The Crown of the World - WISDOM Home Schooling · The Crown of the World, Page 2 the raft and looked at his paws, they found a little mud in them. When Old Man had dried this mud,

The Crown of the World, Page 1

The Story of Canada

The Crown of the World Canada Dawns

The Blackfoot Creation Myth – A Dragon Ship of the North - An Explorer Without Curiosity – Leif the Fortunate – Wineland the Good – The Skraelings – Where is Vinland? - To Find the Orient – The Northwest Passage – New-Found Land – The Fish Kingdom – The Land Where Stands the Cross – A Letter to King Francis I of France

– Cartier’s Second Voyage

George Bird Grinnell: “The Blackfoot Creation Myth”

From Blackfoot Indian Stories

In the beginning there was water everywhere; nothing else was to be seen. There

was something floating on the water, and on this raft were Old Man and all the animals.

The Sun, [whom we call the Old Man,] wished to make land, and he told the beaver

to dive down to the bottom of the water and to try to bring up a little mud. The beaver dived

and was under water for a long time, but he could not reach the bottom. Then the loon tried,

and after him the otter, but the water was too deep for them. At last the musk-rat was sent

down, and he was gone for a long time; so long that they thought he must be drowned, but

at last he came up and floated almost dead on the water, and when they pulled him up on


the raft and looked at his paws, they found a little mud in them. When Old Man had dried

this mud, he scattered it over the water and land was formed. This is the story told by the

Blackfoot. It is very much like one told by some Eastern Indians, who are related to the

Blackfoot.

After the land had been made, Old Man travelled about on it, making things and

fixing up the earth so as to suit him. First, he marked out places where he wished the rivers

to run, sometimes making them run smoothly, and again, in some places, putting falls on

them. He made the mountains and the prairie, the timber and the small trees and bushes,

and sometimes he carried along with him a lot of rocks, from which he built some of the

mountains—as the Sweet Grass Hills—which stand out on the prairie by themselves.

Old Man caused grass to grow on the plains, so that the animals might have

something to feed on. He marked off certain pieces of land, where he caused different kinds

of roots and berries to grow—a place for camas; and one for wild carrots; one for wild

turnips, sweet root and bitter root; one for service berries, bull-berries, cherries, plums, and

rosebuds.

He made all kinds of animals that travel on the ground. When he made the big-horn

with its great horns, he put it out on the prairie. It did not seem to travel easily there; it was

awkward and could not go fast, so he took it by one of its horns and led it up into the rough

hills and among the rocks, and let it go there, and it skipped about among the cliffs and

easily went up fearful places. So Old Man said to the big-horn, "This is the place for you;

this is what you are fitted for; the rough country and the mountains." While he was in the

mountains he made the antelope, and turned it loose to see how it travelled. The antelope

ran so fast that it fell over some rocks and hurt itself. He saw that this would not do, and

took the antelope down on the prairie and set it free there, and it ran away fast and

gracefully, and he said to it, "This is the place that suits you."

At last, one day, Old Man decided that he would make a woman and a child, and

he modelled some clay in human shape, and after he had made these shapes and put them

on the ground, he said to the clay, "You shall be people." He spread his robe over the clay

figures and went away. The next morning he went back to the place and lifted up the robe,

and saw that the clay shapes had changed a little. When he looked at them the next morning,

they had changed still more; and when on the fourth day he went to the place and took off

the covering, he said to the images, "Stand up and walk," and they did so. They walked

down to the river with him who had made them, and he told them his name.

As they were standing there looking at the water as it flowed by, the woman asked

Old Man, saying, "How is it; shall we live always? Will there be no end to us?"

Old Man said, "I have not thought of that. We must decide it. I will take this buffalo

chip and throw it in the river. If it floats, people will become alive again four days after

they have died; they will die for four days only. But if it sinks, there will be an end to

them." He threw the chip into the river, and it floated.

The woman turned and picked up a stone and said, "No, I will throw this stone in

the river. If it floats, we shall live always; if it sinks, people must die, so that their friends

who are left alive may always remember them." The woman threw the stone in the water,

and it sank.

"Well," said Old Man, "you have chosen; there will be an end to them."

Not many nights after that the woman's child died, and she cried a great deal for it.

She said to Old Man, "Let us change this. The law that you first made, let that be the law."


He said, "Not so; what is made law must be law. We will undo nothing that we have

done. The child is dead, but it cannot be changed. People will have to die."

These first people did not have hands like a person; they had hands like a bear with

long claws. They were poor and naked and did not know how to get a living. Old Man

showed them the roots and the berries, and showed them how to gather these, and told them

how at certain times of the year they should peel the bark off some trees and eat it; that the

little animals that live in the ground—rats, squirrels, skunks, and beavers—were good to

eat. He also taught them something about the roots that were good for medicine to cure

sickness.

In those days there were buffalo, and these black animals were armed, for they had

long horns. Once, as the people were moving about, the buffalo saw them and rushed upon

them and hooked them and killed them, and then ate them. One day, as the creator was

travelling about, he came upon some of his children that he had made lying there dead, torn

to pieces and partly eaten by the buffalo. When he saw this, he felt badly. He said, "I have

not made these people right. I will change this; from now on the people shall eat the

buffalo."

He went to some of the people who were still alive, and said to them, "How is it

that you people do nothing to these animals that are killing you?" The people replied, "What

can we do? These animals are armed and can kill us, and we have no way to kill them."

The creator said, "That is not hard. I will make you something that will kill these

animals."

He went out and cut some straight service-berry shoots, and brought them in, and

peeled the bark from them. He took a larger piece of wood and flattened it, and tied a string

to it, and made a bow. Now he was the master of all birds and he went out and caught one,

and took feathers from its wings and tied them to the shaft of wood. He tied four feathers

along the shaft and tried the arrow at a mark and found that it did not fly well. He took off

these feathers and put on three, and when he again tried it at the mark he found that it went


straight. He picked up some hard stones, and broke sharp pieces from them. When he tried

them he found that the black flint stones made the best arrow points. He showed them how

to use these things.

Then he spoke to the people, and said, "The next time you go out, take these things

with you, and use them as I tell you. Do not run from these animals. When they rush at

you, and have come pretty close, shoot the arrows at them as I have taught you, and you

will see that they will run from you or will run around you in a circle."

He also broke off pieces of stone, and fixed them in a handle, and told them that

when they killed the buffalo they should cut up the flesh with these stone knives.

One day after this, some people went on a little hill to look about, and the buffalo

saw them and called out to each other, "Ah, there is some more of our food," and rushed

upon them. The people did not run. They began to shoot at the buffalo with the bows and

arrows that had been given them, and the buffalo began to fall. They say that when the first

buffalo hit with an arrow felt it prick him, he called out to his fellows, "Oh, my friends, a

great fly is biting me."

With the flint knives that had been given them they cut up the bodies of the dead

buffalo. About this time Old Man came up and said to them, "It is not healthful to eat raw

flesh. I will show you something better than that." He gathered soft, dry rotten wood and

made punk of it, and took a piece of wood and drilled a hole in it with an arrow point, and

gave them a pointed piece of hard wood, and showed them how to make a fire with fire

sticks, and to cook the flesh of animals.

After this the people found a certain sort of stone in the land, and took another

harder stone, and worked one upon the other and hollowed out the softer one, so as to make

of it a kettle.

It is told also that the creator made people and animals at another place, and in

another way. At the Porcupine Mountains he made other earthen images of people, and

blew breath on the images, and they became people. They were men and women. After a

time they asked him, "What are we to eat?" Then he took more earth and made many

images in the form of buffalo, and when he had blown on them they stood up, and he made

signs to them and they started to run. He said to the people, "There is your food."

"Well, now," they replied; "we have those animals, how are we to kill them?"

"I will show you," he said.

He took them to the edge of a cliff and showed them how to heap up piles of stone…

with the point of the V toward the cliff. He said to the people, "Now, do you hide behind

these piles of stones, and when I lead the buffalo this way, as they get opposite to you,

stand up."

Then he went on toward a herd of buffalo and began to call them, and the buffalo

started toward him and followed him, until they were inside the arms of the V. Then he ran

to one side and hid, and as the people rose up the buffalo ran on in a straight line and

jumped over the cliff and some of them were killed by the fall.

"There," he said, "go and take the flesh of those animals." Then the people tried to

do so. They tried to tear the limbs apart, but they could not. They tried to bite pieces out of

the bodies, but they could not do that. Old Man went to the edge of the cliff and broke some

pieces of stone with sharp edges, and showed them how to cut the flesh with these. Of the

buffalo that went over the cliff, some were not dead, but were hurt, so they could not run


away. The people cut strips of green hide and tied stones in the middle, and with these

hammers broke in the skulls of the buffalo and killed them.

When they had taken the skins from these animals, they set up poles and put the

hides over them, and so made a shelter to sleep under.

In later times the creator marked off a piece of land for the five tribes, Blackfoot, Bloods,

Piegans, Gros Ventres, and Sarsis, and said to these tribes, "When people come to cross this

line at the border of your land, take your bows and arrows, your lances and your war clubs

and give them battle, and keep them out. If they gain a footing here, trouble for you will

follow."

Charles Morris: “A Dragon Ship of the North”

From Historical Tales, Volume 1 - AmErikan

THE year 1000 A.D. was one of strange history. Its advent threw the people of

Europe into a state of mortal terror. Ten centuries had passed since the birth of Christ. The

world was about to come to an end. Such was the general beLeif. How it was to reach its

end,—whether by fire, water, or some other agent of ruin,—the prophets of disaster did not

say, nor did people trouble themselves to learn. Destruction was coming upon them, that

was enough to know; how to provide against it was the one thing to be considered.

Some hastened to the churches; others to the taverns. Here prayers went up; there

wine went down. The petitions of the pious were matched by the ribaldry of the profligate.

Some made their wills; others wasted their wealth in revelry, eager to get all the pleasure

out of life that remained for them. Many freely gave away their property, hoping, by ridding

themselves of the goods of this earth, to establish a claim to the goods of Heaven, with

little regard to the fate of those whom they loaded with their discarded wealth.

…. When the year ended, and the world rolled on, none the worse for conflagration

or deluge, green with the spring leafage and ripe with the works of man, dismay gave way

to hope, mirth took the place of prayer, man regained their flown wits, and those who had

so recklessly given away their wealth bethought themselves of taking legal measures for

its recovery.

Such was one of the events that made that year memorable. There was another of a

highly different character. Instead of a world being lost, a world was found. The Old World

not only remained unharmed, but a New World was added to it, a world beyond the seas,

for this was the year in which the foot of the European was first set upon the shores of the

trans-Atlantic continent. It is the story of this first discovery of [Canada] that we have now

to tell.

In the autumn of the year 1000, in a region far away from fear-haunted Europe, a

scene was being enacted of a very different character from that just described. Over the

waters of unknown seas a small, strange craft boldly made its way, manned by a crew of

the hardiest and most vigorous men, driven by a single square sail, whose coarse woollen

texture bellied deeply before the fierce ocean winds, which seemed at times as if they would

drive that deckless vessel bodily beneath the waves.

This crew was of men to whom fear was almost unknown, the stalwart Vikings of the

North, whose oar-and sail-driven barks now set out from the coasts of Norway and Denmark

to ravage the shores of southern Europe, now turned their prows boldly to the west in search

of unknown lands afar.


Shall we describe this craft? It was a tiny one in which to venture upon an

untravelled ocean in search of an unknown continent,—a vessel shaped somewhat like a

strung bow, scarcely fifty feet in length, low amidships and curving upwards to high peaks

at stem and stern, both of which converged to sharp edges. It resembled an enormous canoe

rather than aught else to which we can compare it. On the stem was a carved and gilt

dragon, the figurehead of the ship, which glittered in the bright rays of the sun. Along the

bulwarks of the ship, fore and aft, hung rows of large painted wooden shields, which gave

an Argus-eyed aspect to the craft. Between them was a double row of thole-pins for the

great oars, which now lay at rest in the bottom of the boat, but by which, in calm weather,

this "walker of the seas" could be forced swiftly through the yielding element.

Near the stern, on an elevated platform, stood the commander, a man of large and

powerful frame and imposing aspect, one whose commands not the fiercest of his crew

would lightly venture to disobey. A coat of ring-mail encircled his stalwart frame; by his

side, in a richly-embossed scabbard, hung a long sword, with hilt of gilded bronze; on his

head was a helmet that shone like pure gold, shaped like a wolf's head, with gaping jaws

and threatening teeth. Land was in sight, an unknown coast, peopled perhaps by warlike

men. The cautious Viking leader deemed it wise to be prepared for danger, and was armed

for possible combat.

Below him, on the rowing-benches, sat his hardy crew, their arms—spears, axes,

bows, and slings—beside them, ready for any deed of daring they might be called upon to

perform. Their dress consisted of trousers of coarse stuff, belted at the waist; thick woollen

shirts, blue, red, or brown in color; iron helmets, beneath which their long hair streamed

down to their shoulders; and a shoulder belt descending to the waist and supporting their

leather-covered sword-scabbards. Heavy whiskers and moustaches added to the fierceness

of their stern faces, and many of them wore as ornament on the forehead a band of gold.

They numbered thirty-five in all, this crew who had set out to brave the terrors and

solve the mysteries of the great Atlantic. Their leader, Leif by name, was the son of Erik

the Red, the discoverer of Greenland, and a Viking as fierce as ever breathed the air of the


north land. Outlawed in Norway, where in hot blood he had killed more men than the law

could condone, Erik had made his way to Iceland. Here his fierce temper led him again to

murder, and flight once more became necessary. Manning a ship, he set sail boldly to the

west, and in the year 982 reached a land on which the eye of European had never before

gazed. To this he gave the name of Greenland, with the hope, perhaps, that this inviting

name would induce others to follow him.

Such proved to be the case. Eirek returned to Iceland, told the story of his discovery, and

in 985 set sail again for his new realm with twenty-five ships and many colonists. Others

came afterwards, among them one Biarni, a bold and enterprising youth, for whom a great

adventure was reserved.

Anonymous 13th Century Viking Chronicler - “An Explorer Without Curiosity”

From The Saga of Erik the Red

Then the wind dropped and [Bjarni and his crew] were beset by winds from the north and

fog; for many days they did not know where they were sailing.

After that they saw the sun and could take their bearings. Hoisting the sail, they sailed for

the rest of the day before sighting land. They speculated among themselves as to what land this

would be, for Bjarni said he suspected this was not Greenland.

They asked whether he wished to sail up close into the shore of this country or not. 'My

advice is that we sail in close to the land.'

They did so, and soon saw that the land was not mountainous but did have small hills,

and was covered with forests. Keeping it on their port side, they turned their sail-end landwards

and angled away from the shore.

They sailed for another two days before sighting land once again. They asked Bjarni

whether he now thought this to be Greenland. He said he thought this no more likely to be

Greenland than the previous land — 'since there are said to be very large glaciers in Greenland'.

They soon approached the land and saw that it was flat and wooded. The wind died and the crew

members said they thought it advisable to put ashore, but Bjarni was against it. They claimed

they needed both timber and water.

'You've no shortage of those provisions,' Bjarni said, but he was criticized somewhat by

his crew for this.

He told them to hoist the sail and they did so, turning the stern towards shore and sailing

seawards. For three days they sailed with the wind from the south-west until they saw a third

land. This land had high mountains, capped by a glacier.

They asked whether Bjarni wished to make land here, but he said he did not wish to do so

— 'as this land seems to me to offer nothing of use'.

This time they did not lower the sail, but followed the shoreline until they saw that the

land was an island. Once more they turned their stern landwards and sailed out to sea with the

same breeze. But the wind soon grew and Bjarni told them to lower the sail and not to proceed

faster than both their ship and rigging could safely withstand. They sailed for four days.

Upon seeing a fourth land they asked Bjarni whether he thought this was Greenland or

not. Bjarni answered, 'This land is most like what I have been told of Greenland, and we'll head

for shore here.'

This they did and made land along a headland in the evening of the day, finding a boat

there. On this point Herjolf, Bjarni's father, lived, and it was named for him and has since been


called Herjolfsnes (Herjolf's point). Bjarni now joined his father and ceased his merchant

voyages. He remained on his father's farm as long as Herjolf lived and took over the farm after

his death. Following this, Bjarni Herjolfsson sailed from Greenland to Earl Eirik, who received

him well. Bjarni told of his voyage, during which he had sighted various lands, and many people

thought him short on curiosity, since he had nothing to tell of these lands, and he was criticized

somewhat for this.

H. E. Marshall – “Leif the Fortunate”

From Our Empire Story

MANY hundred years ago, Leif, the son of Erik the Red, stood upon the shores of

Norway. His hair was fair and long, and his eyes as blue as the sea upon which he looked.

And as he watched the sea-horses tossing their foam-manes, his heart longed to be out

upon the wild waves.

For Bjarne the Traveller had come home. He had come from sailing far seas, and

had brought back with him news of a strange, new land which lay far over the waves

towards the setting of the sun. It was a land, he said, full of leafy woods and great tall

trees such as had never been seen in Norway. Above a shore of white sand waved golden

fields of corn. Beneath the summer breeze vast seas of shimmering grass bowed

themselves, and all the air was scented with spice, and joyous with the song of birds.

"I will find this land," cried Leif Erikson, "I will find this land and call it mine."

All day long he paced the shore, thinking and longing, and when the shadows of

evening fell he strode into his father's hall.

Erik the Red sat in his great chair, and Leif, his son, stood before him. The

firelight gleamed upon the gold bands round his arms and was flashed back from his

glittering armour. "Father," he cried, "give me a ship. I would sail beyond the seas to the

goodly lands of which Bjarne the Traveller tells."

Then Erik the Red poured shining yellow gold into the hands of Leif, his son.

"Go," he cried, "buy the ship of Bjarne and sail to the goodly lands of which he tells."

So Leif bought the ship of Bjarne the Traveller, and to him came four-and-thirty

men, tall and strong and eager as he, to sail the seas to the new lands towards the setting

sun.

Then Leif bent his knee before his father. "Come, you, O my father," he cried,

"and be our leader."

But Erik the Red shook his head. "I am too old," he said. Yet his blue eyes looked

wistfully out to sea. His old heart leaped at the thought that once again before he died he

might feel his good ship bound beneath him, that once again it would answer to the helm

under his hand as his horse to the rein.

"Nay, but come, my father," pleaded Leif, "you will bring good luck to our

sailing."

"Ay, I will come," cried Erik the Red. Then rising, the old sea-king threw off his

robe of state. Once again, as in days gone by, he clad himself in armour of steel and gold,

and mounting upon his horse he rode to the shore. As Erik neared the ship the warriors

set up a shout of welcome. But even as they did so his horse stumbled and fell. The king

was thrown to the ground. In vain he tried to rise. He had hurt his foot so badly that he


could neither stand nor walk. "Go, my son," said Erik sadly, "the gods will have it thus. It

is not for me to discover new lands. You are young. Go, and bring me tidings of them."

So Leif and his men mounted into his ship and sailed out toward the West. Three

weeks they sailed. All around them the blue waves tossed and foamed but no land did

they see. At last, one morning, a thin grey line far to the west appeared like a pencil-

streak across the blue. Hurrah, land was near! On they sailed… until at length they came

to a place where a great river flowed into the sea.

Jenny Hall – “Wineland the Good”

From Viking Tales As they came near, the men said: "See the great trees and the soft, green shore.

Surely this is a better country than Greenland or than Iceland either." …

They stayed many days in this country and walked about to see what was there. A

German, named Tyrker, was with Leif. He was a little man with a high forehead and a short

nose… Now one day they had been wandering about and all came back to camp at night

except Tyrker. When Leif looked around on his comrades, he said: "Where is Tyrker?" No

one knew. Then Leif was angry…

Then he turned and started out to hunt for him…. They had not gone far when they

saw Tyrker running toward them. He was laughing and talking to himself. Leif ran to him…

"Why are you so late?" he asked. "Where have you been?"

Then Tyrker answered, "I have not been so very far, but I have found something

wonderful."

"What is it?" cried the men.

"I have found grapes growing wild," answered Tyrker, and he laughed, and his eyes

shone.

"It cannot be," Leif said. Grapes do not grow in Greenland nor in Iceland nor even

in Norway. So it seemed a wonderful thing to these Norsemen.

"Can I not tell grapes when I see them?" cried Tyrker. "Did I not grow up in

Germany, where every hillside is covered with grapevines? Ah! it seems like my old

home."

"It is wonderful," Leif said. "I have heard travelers tell of seeing grapes growing,

but I myself never saw it. You shall take us to them early in the morning, Tyrker."

So in the morning they went back into the woods and saw the grapes. They ate of

them. …That day Leif said:

"We spent most of the summer on the ocean. Winter will soon be coming on and

the sea about Greenland will be frozen. We must start back. I mean to take some of the

things of this land to show to our people at home. We will fill the rowboat with grapes and

tow it behind us. The ship we will load with logs from these great trees. That will be a

welcome shipload in Greenland, where we have neither trees nor vines. Now [170] half of

you shall gather grapes for the next few days, and the other half shall cut timber."

So they did, and after a week sailed off…. As they looked back at the shore, Leif

said: "I will call this country Wineland for the grapes that grow there."

One of the men leaped upon the gunwale and leaned out, clinging to the sail, and

sang:

"Wineland the good, Wineland the warm,

Wineland the green, the great.”…


Then all the men waved their hands to the shore and gave a great shout for that

good land. For all that voyage they had fair weather and sailed into Erik's harbor before the

winter came. Erik saw the ship and ran down to the shore. He took Leif into his arms and

said:

"Oh, my son, my old eyes ached to see you. I hunger to hear of all that you have

seen and done."

"Luck has followed me all the way," said Leif. "See what I have brought home."...

Then they saw the grapes and tasted them.

"Surely you must have plundered Asgard," they said, smacking their lips.

At the feast that night… Leif sat in the high seat opposite Erik… He told them of

the storm and of Wineland. "No man would ever need a cloak there. The soil is richer than

the soil of Norway. Grain grows wild, and you yourselves saw the grapes that we got from

there. The forests are without end. The sea is full of fish."

The Greenlanders listened with open mouths to all this.

The Greenlander Chronicler (13th Century): “The Skraelings”

From The Saga of the Greenlanders

It is said, that Thorhall wished to sail to the northward beyond Wonder-strands,

in search of Wineland, while Karlsefni desired to proceed to the southward, off the

coast. Thorhall prepared for his voyage out below the island, having only nine men

in his party, for all of the remainder of the company went with Karlsefni. And one

day when Thorhall was carrying water aboard his ship, and was drinking, he recited


this ditty:

When I came, these brave men told me,

Here the best of drink I 'd get,

Now with water-pail behold me, —

Wine and I are strangers yet.

Stooping at the spring, I 've tested

All the wine this land affords;

Of its vaunted charms divested,

Poor indeed are its rewards.

Then they sailed away to the northward past Wonder-strands and Keelness,

intending to cruise to the westward around the cape. They encountered westerly

gales, and were driven ashore in Ireland, where they were grievously maltreated

and thrown into slavery. There Thorhall lost his life, according to that which

traders have related.

It is now to be told of Karlsefni, that he cruised southward off the coast, with

Snorri and Biarni, and their people. They sailed for a long time, and until they came

at last to a river, which flowed down from the land into a lake, and so into the sea.

There were great bars at the mouth of the river, so that it could only be entered at

the height of the flood-tide. Karlsefni and his men sailed into the mouth of the river,

and called it there Hop [a small land-locked bay]. They found self-sown wheat-fields

on the land there, wherever there were hollows, and wherever there was hilly ground,

there were vines. Every brook there was full of fish. They dug pits, on the

shore where the tide rose highest, and when the tide fell, there were halibut

in the pits. There were great numbers of wild animals of all kinds in the woods.

They remained there half a month, and enjoyed themselves, and kept no watch.

They had their live-stock with them.

Now one morning early, when they looked

about them, they saw a great number of skin-canoes, and staves were brand-

ished from the boats, with a noise like flails, and they were revolved in the same

direction in which the sun moves.

Then said Karlsefni : ' What may this betoken ? '

Snorri, Thorb rand's son, answers him : 'It may be, that this is a signal of peace,

wherefore let us take a white shield and display it.' And thus they did.

There- upon the strangers rowed toward them, and went upon the land, marvelling at

those whom they saw before them. They were swarthy men, and ill-looking, and

the hair of their heads was ugly. They had great eyes, and were broad of

cheek. They tarried there for a time looking curiously at the people they saw

before them, and then rowed away, and to the southward around the point.

Karlsefni and his followers had built their huts above the lake, some of their

dwellings being near the lake, and others farther away. Now they remained there

that winter. No snow came there, and all of their live-stock lived by grazing.

And when spring opened, they discovered, early one morning, a great number of

skin-canoes, rowing from the south past the cape, so numerous, that it looked as if

coals had been scattered broadcast out before the bay ; and on every boat staves were


waved. Thereupon Karlsefni and his people displayed their shields, and when they

came together, they began to barter with each other. Especially did the strangers

wish to buy red cloth, for which they offered in exchange peltries and quite

grey skins. They also desired to buy swords and spears, but Karlsefni and Snorri

forbade this. In exchange for perfect unsullied skins, the Skraelings would take

red stuff a span in length, which they would bind around their heads. So their

trade went on for a time, until Karlsefni and his people began to grow short of

cloth, when they divided it into such narrow pieces, that it was not more than a

finger's breadth wide, but the Skraelings still continued to give just as much for

this as before, or more.

It so happened, that a bull, which belonged to Karlsefni and his people, ran out

from the woods, bellowing loudly. This so terrified the Skraelings, that they sped

out to their canoes, and then rowed away to the southward along the coast. For

three entire weeks nothing more was seen of them. At the end of this time, however,

a great multitude of Skraeling boats was discovered approaching from the south,

as if a stream were pouring down, and all of their staves were waved in a direction

contrary to the course of the sun, and the Skraelings were all uttering loud cries.

Thereupon Karlsefni and his men took red shields (53) and displayed them. The

Skraelings sprang from their boats, and they met then, and fought together. There

was a fierce shower of missiles, for the Skraelings had war-slings. Karlsefni and

Snorri observed, that the Skraelings raised up on a pole a great ball-shaped body,

almost the size of a sheep's belly, and nearly black in colour, and this they hurled from

the pole up on the land above Karlsefni's followers, and it made a frightful noise,

where it fell.

Whereat a great fear seized upon Karlsefni, and all his men, so that

they could think of nought but flight, and of making their escape up along the river

bank, for it seemed to them, that the troop of the Skraelings was rushing towards

them from every side, and they did not pause, until they came to certain jutting crags,

where they offered a stout resistance.

Freydis came out, and seeing that Karlsefni and his men were fleeing, she cried : ' Why

do ye flee from these wretches, such worthy men as ye, when, meseems, ye might slaughter them

like cattle. Had I but a weapon, methinks, I would fight better than any one of you ! ' They gave

no heed to her words. Freydis sought to join them, but lagged behind, for she was not hale ;

she followed them, however, into the forest, while the Skraelings pursued her ; she

found a dead man in front of her ; this was Thorbrand, Snorri's son, his skull cleft by

a flat stone ; his naked sword lay beside him ; she took it up, and prepared to defend

herself with it. The Skraelings then approached her, whereupon she…wielded her sword. At this

the Skraelings were terrified and ran down to their boats, and rowed away. Karlsefni and his com

panions, however, joined her and praised her valour. Two of Karlsefni's men had fallen, and a

great number of the Skraelings.


Karlsefni's party had been overpowered by dint of

superior numbers. They now returned to their dwellings, and bound up their

wounds, and weighed carefully what throng of men that could have been, which had

seemed to descend upon them from the land; it now seemed to them, that there

could have been but the one party, that which came from the boats, and that the other

troop must have been an ocular delusion l . The Skraelings, moreover, found a dead

man, and an axe lay beside him. One of their number picked up the axe, and struck

at a tree with it, and one after another [they tested it], and it seemed to them to

be a treasure, and to cut well ; then one of their number seized it, and hewed at

a stone with it, so that the axe broke, whereat they concluded that it could be of no

use, since it would not withstand stone, and they cast it away.

It now seemed clear to Karlsefni and his people, that although the country

thereabouts was attractive, their life would be one of constant dread and turmoil by

reason of the [hostility of the] inhabitants of the country, so they forthwith prepared

to leave, and determined to return to their own country.

Great Canadian Mysteries: Where is Vinland?

At this point, stop and explore this website. It present lots of information and pictures

devoted to the question of where Wineland, also known as Vinland, really was located,

using information from archeology, geography, the sagas, and more. You do not have to

read everything – look at what you are interested in, and get an idea of the debate,

especially in relation to L’Anse Aux Meadows, which many scientists believe is Leif or

Karlsefni’s settlement.

http://www.canadianmysteries.ca/sites/vinland/home/indexen.html


H. E. Marshall: “To Find the Orient”


MANY hundreds of years passed. Amid strife and warfare the wild Northmen forgot about

the strange country far in the West which their forefathers had discovered. They heard of

it only in the old, half-forgotten tales which the minstrels sometimes sang. They thought

of it only as a fairy country—a land of nowhere.

Then there came a time when all the earth was filled with unrest. If the world was

round, India might be reached by sailing west as easily as by sailing east. So brave and

daring men stepped into their ships and sailed away toward the setting sun. They steered

out into wide, unknown waters in search of a new way to lands of gold and spice.

Columbus, the great sailor of Genoa, sailed into the west, and returned with many

a strange story of the countries which he had seen and claimed for the King of Spain. Then

there came to England a sailor of Venice, called John Cabot. If the King of Spain might

find and claim new lands, he asked, why not the King of England too?

English trade the last fifteenth century was in its earliest and humble stages. English

ships did little more than ferry goods across the narrow seas between this island and the

Continent…. But even much of this trade, and all the trade with distant parts, was in the

hands of foreign shippers, except that the men of Bristol carried on some business with

Iceland.

But now a time of stir and adventure was beginning. In all directions the English

merchants found foreigners to oppose them and they had to struggle hard to get a footing.

The products of South Europe and the riches of India and China in the East were brought

to England each year in the fleets of the merchants of Venice. The Mediterranean trade was

in the hands of the large ports of the South of Europe—Barcelona and Marseilles, Pisa and

Genoa, Florence and Venice. The Baltic trade was jealously guarded by the German

merchants, who had their factories or stations all over North Europe—even so far north as

at Bergen in Norway and at Novgorod in Russia.

The huge Continent of Asia was still unknown except by hearsay and by the reports

of the famous travellers of the Middle Ages, the brothers Polo of Venice. Their accounts

of the strange lands they visited in the thirteenth century we can still read. The Atlantic had

been "a sea of darkness," and nobody knew what lay beyond it, but the discovery of

AmErika soon made it a highway between the Old and the New World. …. Portugal and


Spain, who had for many centuries been crusading against enemies in their own lands, now

became eager to discover new lands, and to make Christians of the heathen peoples. The

sailors of Portugal ventured eastwards over the sea round the west coast of Africa towards

India, While Spain made for the west in the opposite direction….

[England dearly wished to have a share in gold and land, as well as to make its

name in the adventure of the west. The key to glory and gold was to find a Northwest

Passage to the Orient. The quest conjured magic in the minds of the young men of Europe,

each of whom longed to be the hero who could brave his way through the perils of the

unknown edges of the world, navigating through every danger to find the route that lay

beyond shore, mountain, and icy sea. But the voyage was not for the faint of heart. That

there was no assurance of success was the least of a man’s worries – hundreds were dashed

to their deaths upon rocks, drowned in the deeps, or lost forever leagues and leagues from

all who loved them.]

Stanley Rogers: “The Northwest Passage”

Ah, for just one time I would take the Northwest Passage

To find the hand of Franklin reaching for the Beaufort Sea;

Tracing one warm line through a land so wide and savage

And make a Northwest Passage to the sea.

Westward from the Davis Strait 'tis there 'twas said to lie

The sea route to the Orient for which so many died;

Seeking gold and glory, leaving weathered, broken bones

And a long-forgotten lonely cairn of stones.

…. How then am I so different from the first men through this way?

Like them, I left a settled life, I threw it all away.

To seek a Northwest Passage at the call of many men

To find there but the road back home again.

Ah, for just one time I would take the Northwest Passage

To find the hand of Franklin reaching for the Beaufort Sea;

Tracing one warm line through a land so wide and savage

And make a Northwest Passage to the sea.

H. E. Marshall: “New-Found Land”


So one fair May morning the little ship named the Matthew, [captained by John

Cabot at the command of Henry VII of England,] sailed out from Bristol harbour. Crowds

of people came to see it as it spread its white wings and sped away and away into the

unknown. Followed by [6] the wishes and the prayers of many an anxious heart it glided

on and on until it was but a speck in the distance, and the sailors turning their eyes

backward, saw the land dwindle and fade to a thin grey streak and then vanish away. They

were alone on the wide blue waters, steering they knew not whither.


To the West they sped, week by week. A month passed. Still there was no sign of

land. Six weeks, seven weeks passed, still no land. Master John Cabot walked apart on the

deck, his sailors looked askance at him. Would their faith hold out? he asked himself. How

much longer would they sail thus into the unknown? These were days of danger and dread.

For Master John well knew that the passion of man's heart and the madness of famine and

despair, were more to be feared than the howl of the winds and the anger of the waves.

But at length one bright June morning there came a cry from the sailor on the

outlook, "Land a-hoy." Master John Cabot was saved. He had reached at last the port of

his golden hopes. They still sailed, the tide running gently and bearing them onward, and

so on the 24th of June 1497 A.D., John Cabot landed on "New-found-land."

Where he landed he planted a cross with the arms of England carved upon it. The

flag of England fluttered out to the sound of an English cheer as the brave sailor claimed

the land for Henry VII., King of England and France, and lord of Ireland.

Cabot called the country St. John's Land, because he first came there on St. John's

Day. The exact spot is not known, but it is thought to have been either at Cape Breton or

at some point on the coast of Labrador.

After staying a little time, Cabot and his men set sail again, and turned their vessel

homeward. The country that they had found seemed fertile and fruitful. But [7] it was not

the land of gold and spice, of gems and silken riches which they had hoped to find. So they

returned with empty hands, and but little guessing upon what a vast continent they had

planted the flag of England. They returned, little knowing that the people of England would

carry that flag across the continent to the sea beyond…

But although Cabot returned with empty hands, the King of England received him kindly.

He was, however, "a king wise but not lavish." Indeed, he liked but little to spend his gold.

So as a reward he gave Cabot £10. It does not seem much, even when we remember that £10

then was worth as much as £120 now. Still, Cabot had a good time with it. He dressed

himself in silk and grandeur, and walked about the streets, followed by crowds who came to

stare and wonder at the man who had found "a new isle." Later, the king gave Cabot £20 a


year. Not much more is known about his life, but it is thought that he, with his son Sebastian,

sailed again—perhaps more than once—to the "Isle beyond the Seas."

Soncino, a Spanish spy posted in England, kept his superiors abreast of the new discovery thus:

Raimondo di Soncino: “The Fish Kingdom”

From the Dispatches of Raimondo di Soncino to the Duke of Milan

18th December, 1497.

My most illustrious and most excellent Lord,

Perhaps amidst so many occupations of your Excellency it will not be unwelcome to

learn how this Majesty has acquired a part of Asia without drawing his sword. In this kingdom

there is a certain Venetian named Zoanne Caboto, of gentle disposition, very expert in

navigation, who, seeing that the most serene Kings of Portugal and Spain had occupied unknown

islands, meditated the achievement of a similar acquisition for the said Majesty. Having obtained

royal privileges securing to himself the use of the dominions he might discover, the sovereignty

being reserved to the Crown, he entrusted his fortune to a small vessel with a crew of 18 persons,

and set out from Bristol, a port in the western part of this kingdom. Having passed Ibernia, which

is still further to the west, and then shaped a northerly course, he began to navigate to the eastern

part, leaving (during several days) the North Star on the right hand; and having wandered thus

for a long time, at length he hit upon land, where he hoisted the royal standard, and took

possession for his Highness, and, having obtained various proofs of his discovery, he returned.

The said Messer Zoanne, being a foreigner and poor, would not have been believed if the

crew, who are nearly all English, and belonging to Bristol, had not testified that what he said was

the truth. This Messer Zoanne has the description of the world on a chart, and also on a solid

sphere which he has constructed, and on which he shows where he has been; and, proceeding

towards the east, he has passed as far as the country of the Tanais. And they say that there the

land is excellent and (the climate?) temperate, suggesting that brasil and silk grow there. They

affirm that the sea is full of fish, which are not only taken with a net, but also with a basket, a

stone being fastened to it in order to keep it in the water; and this I have heard stated by the said

Messer Zoanne.

The said Englishmen, his companions, say that they took so many fish that this kingdom

will no longer have need of Iceland, from which country there is an immense trade in the fish

they call stock-fish. But Messer Zoanne has set his mind on higher things, for he thinks that,

when that place has been occupied, he will keep on still further towards the east, where he will

be opposite to an island called Cipango, situated in the equinoctial region, where he believes that

all the spices of the world, as well as the jewels, are found…

Your Excellency's most humble servant,

Raimundus.

[note: Annuario Scientifico, Milan, 1866, p. 700; Archiv d'Etat Milan, reprinted by Harrisse in

his John Cabot, p. 324, from the Intorno of Desimoni, and translated from his text for the

Hakluyt Society, with his permission.]


But though Cabot had discovered the tip of Newfoundland, he had no notion that more

lay in those far off reaches of the Atlantic than one more tiny island. No, the first explorer to

recognize the full extent of the crown of the world was no Englishman, but a Frenchman, the

daring Captain Jacques Cartier.

Stephen Leacock: “The Discoverer of Canada”

From The Mariner of St. Malo

IN the town hall of the seaport of St. Malo there hangs a portrait of Jacques Cartier, the

great sea-captain of that place, whose name is associated for all time with the proud title of

'Discoverer of Canada.' The picture is that of a bearded man in the prime of life, standing on the

deck of a ship, his bent elbow resting upon the gunwale, his chin supported by his hand, while

his eyes gaze outward upon the western ocean as if seeking to penetrate its mysteries. The face is

firm and strong, with tight-set jaw, prominent brow, and the full, inquiring eye of the man

accustomed both to think and to act. The costume marks the sea-captain of four centuries ago. A

thick cloak, gathered by a belt at the waist, enwraps the stalwart figure. On his head is the tufted

Breton cap familiar in the pictures of the days of the great navigators. At the waist, on the left

side, hangs a sword, and, on the right, close to the belt, the dirk or poniard of the period….

What voyages Cartier actually made before he suddenly appears in history as a pilot of the

king of France and the protégé of the high admiral of France we do not know. This position in

itself, and the fact that at the time of his marriage in 1519 he had already the rank of master-

pilot, would show that he had made the Atlantic voyage.


Out of this background, then, of uncertainty and conjecture emerges, in 1534, Jacques

Cartier, a master-pilot in the prime of life, now sworn to the service of His Most Christian

Majesty Francis I of France, and about to undertake on behalf of his illustrious master a voyage

to the New Land.

IT was on April 20, 1534, that Jacques Cartier sailed out of the port of St Malo on his first

voyage in the service of Francis I. Before leaving their anchorage the commander, the sailing-

masters, and the men took an oath, administered by Charles de Mouy, vice-admiral of France,

that they would behave themselves truly and faithfully in the service of the Most Christian

King. The company were borne in two ships, each of about sixty tons burden, and numbered

in all sixty-one souls….

At this time, it must be remembered, the coast of Newfoundland was, in some degree,

already known. Ships had frequently passed through the narrow passage of Belle Isle that

separates Newfoundland from the coast of Labrador. Of the waters, however, that seemed to

open up beyond, or of the exact relation of the Newfoundland coastline to the rest of the great

continent nothing accurate was known. It might well be that the inner waters behind the

inhospitable headlands of Belle Isle would prove the gateway to the great empires of the East.

Cartier's business at any rate was to explore, to see all that could be seen, and to bring news of

it to his royal master. This he set himself to do, with the persevering thoroughness that was the

secret of his final success. He coasted along the shore from cape to cape and from island to

island, sounding and charting as he went, noting the shelter for ships that might be found, and

laying down the bearing of the compass from point to point. It was his intent, good pilot as he

was, that those who sailed after him should find it easy to sail on these coasts.

Jacques Cartier: “The Land Where Stands the Cross”

From A Memoir of Jacques Cartier: His Voyages

And the fourth day of the said month, the day of St. Martin, we ranged the said north land

in order to find a harbor, and entered into a little bay and land berth all open to the south, where

there is no shelter from the said wind, and we named the berth St. Martin…. and we being a half-

league from said point perceived two bands of savages in boats, which crossed from their shore

to the other, where they were more than forty or fifty boats, and of which one of the said

companies of boats arrived at the said point, from which a great number of people leaped and

landed on shore, who made a great noise, and made many signs that we should go ashore,

showing us skins upon sticks. And because we had but a single boat we would not go there, and

rowed toward the other band, which was on the sea. And they, seeing that we fled, equipped two

of their largest boats for to come after us, with which were banded five others of those who came

from the sea, and they came until near our said boat, dancing and making many signs of wanting

our friendship, saying to us in their language: "Napou tou daman asurtar," and other words which

we did not understand.

Because we had, as was said, only one of our boats, we would not trust to their signs, and

we made signs to them that they should withdraw, which they would not do, but rowed with such

great fury that they surrounded our said boat with their seven boats. And because for the sign that

we made them they would not retire, we fired two volleys over them, and then they fell to return

to the said point, and made a marvellously great noise, after which they began to return toward

us as before; and they being very near our said boat, we let go at them two fuses, which passed


among them, which astonished them greatly, so much so that they betook themselves to flight in

very great haste and came after us no more.

The next day a part of the said savages came with nine boats to the point and entrance of

the berth where we were lying with our ships, and we, being advertised of their coming, went

with our two boats to the said point and entrance where they were, and directly that they

perceived us they set out to fly, making us signs that they would come to traffic with us, and

showing us some skins of little value wherewith they rig themselves out. We likewise made them

a sign that we did not wish them any ill, and set two men to land for to go to them to carry them

knives and other iron wares, and a red hat to give to their captain. And they seeing this, a part of

them went to land with the said skins and trafficked together, and displayed a great and

marvelous joy to get and secure the said iron wares and other things, dancing and performing

many ceremonies, by throwing sea-water upon their heads with their hands, and giving us all that

they had, insomuch that they returned home wholly naked, without having anything on them, and

made us signs that the next day they would return with some other skins.

Thursday, the 8th of the said month, because the wind was not good to go out with our

ships, we fitted out our said boats in order to go and explore the said bay, and ran that day within

it about twenty-five leagues. And the next day, in the morning, we had fair weather and carried

sail until about ten o'clock in the morning, in which time we had knowledge of the depth of the

said bay, for which we were disappointed and grieved, at the end of which bay there were over

the low lands very high mountainous lands. And seeing that there was no thoroughfare we began

to return, and making our way along the coast we saw the said savages on the shore of a pond

and low lands where they were making many fires and smokes.

We went to the said place and found that it had a sea entrance, which entered into said

pond, and we put our said boats to one side of the said entrance. The said savages passed over

with one of their boats and fetched us some pieces of seals all cooked, which they put upon

pieces of wood and then withdrew, making us a sign that they gave them to us. We sent two men

ashore with hatchets and knives, paternosters, and other goods, for which they showed great joy,

and forthwith passed in a crowd with their boats to the side where we were, with skins and

whatever they had in order to get of our goods. And they were in number, of men, women, and

children as well, more than three hundred, of which part of their women, who did not pass over,

danced and sung, standing in the sea up to their knees. The other women, who had passed to the

other side where we were, came freely to us and stroked our arms with their hands, and then

raised their joined hands to the sky, making many signs of joy; and so much did they trust

themselves with us that at last we traded hand to hand with them for all that they had, which

were things of little value….

I judge more than otherwise that these people would be easy to convert to our holy

faith…

[Sailing further up another bay, we found more people.] We gave them knives,

paternosters of glass, combs, and other articles of little worth, for which they made many signs

of joy, raising their hands to the sky while singing and dancing in their boats. These people can

well be called savages, because they are the poorest folks that there may be in the world, for

altogether they have not the value of five sous, their boats and their fishing-nets excepted. They

are wholly naked, except for... some old skins of beasts which they throw over them… They are

not by nature nor tongue like the first we found. They have their heads shorn close all about,

except a tuft on the top of the head, which they leave long like a horse's tail, which they tie and

bind upon their heads in a lump with thongs of leather. They have no other lodgings but under


their said boats, which they turn over before lying down on the ground. Under these they eat

their flesh almost raw after being a little warmed on coals, and likewise their fish… They never

eat a thing wherein there may be a taste of salt. They are to a marvelous degree thieves of all that

they can steal.

The 24th day of the said month we caused a cross to be made thirty feet in height, which

was made before a number of them on the point at the entrance of the said harbor, on the cross-

bar of which we put a shield embossed with three fleurs-de-lis, and above where it was an

inscription graven in wood in letters of large form, "VIVE LE ROI DE FRANCE." And this

cross we planted on the said point before them, the which they beheld us make and plant; and

after it was raised in the air we all fell on our knees, with hands joined, while adoring it before

them, and made them signs, looking up and showing them the sky, that by it was our redemption,

for which they showed much admiration, turning and beholding the cross.

We, being returned to our ships, saw the captain clothed with an old black bear's skin, in

a boat with three of his sons and his brother, who approached not so close alongside as was

customary, and made to us a long harangue, showing us the said cross and making the sign of the

cross with two fingers, and then showed us the country all about us, as if he had wished to say

that all the country was his, and that we should not plant the said cross without his leave. And

after he had ended his said harangue, we showed him a hatchet, feigning to deliver it to him for

his skin, to which he harkened, and little by little drew near the side of our ship, thinking to have

the said hatchet. And one of our crew, being in our boat, put his hand on his said boat, and

suddenly he with two or three of them leaped into their boat, and made them come into our ship,

at which they were greatly astonished. And they, having entered, were assured by the captain that

they should not have any harm, by showing them great signs of love, and he made them drink

and eat and make great cheer, and then showed them by signs that the said cross had been

planted for to make a mark and beacon in order to enter into the harbor, and that we would return

very soon and would bring them iron wares and other things, and that we wished to carry two of

his sons with us, and then they should return again to the said harbor. And we rigged his said two


sons with two shirts, and with liveries and red caps, and to each one his chain of copper for the

neck, with which they were greatly contented and delivered their old duds to those who were

returning. And then we gave to the three that we sent back, to each one his hatchet and two

knives, for which they showed great joy; and they, being returned to the land, told the news to

the others.

Jacques Cartier: A Letter to King Francis I of France

From A Memoir of Jacques Cartier: His Voyages

TO THE MOST CHRISTIAN KING

…The simple sailors, at present not having had so much fear of putting themselves to the

adventure of these perils & dangers which they have had & desiring to do you most humble

service to the increase of the very holy Christian faith, have known the contrary of the said

opinions of the philosophers by true experience…. With the example of which I think, with my

simple understanding & without other reason to declare it, that it may please God, by his divine

bounty, that all human creatures, living & dwelling upon the globe of the earth, as they have

sight & knowledge of this sun, may have had & have for the time to come knowledge & beLeif

in our most holy faith; because at first this our holy faith was sowed & planted in the holy land,

which is in Asia to the east of our Europe, & since in the progress of time brought & divulged

even to us, & finally to the west of our said Europe, after the example of the said sun bearing its

warmth & light from the east into the west as already said.

And we have likewise also seen our most holy faith at several times, by occasion of

wicked heretics & false lawmakers, eclipsed in some places & then suddenly shine forth & show

its clearness more plainly than before. And now at present we again see how the wicked… from

day to day strive to obscure it, &, finally, to totally extinguish it, if God & the truth suffer it, or

may not give order through mortal justice, such as is seen done each day in your country & realm

by the good order & police that you have established therein. In like manner is also seen how,

contrary to these children of Satan, the christian princes & true pillars of the Church Catholic


strive to augment & increase it, even as the Catholic King of Spain has done in the lands which

by his command have been discovered to the west of his country & realms, the which were

formerly to us unknown, strangers & beyond our faith ; as New Spain, Lisabelle, terra firma, &

other islands where have been found innumerable people, who have been

baptised & subdued to our most holy faith.

And now in the present voyage made by your royal command in the discovery of

Western lands, being under the climate & parallel of your country & realm, not before known to

you nor to us, you can behold & understand the goodness & fertility of it, the innumerable

quantity of people dwelling there, the kindness & gentleness of them : And likewise the

fruitfulness of the great river which flows & waters the midst of these your lands, which is the

greatest without comparison that is known to have ever been seen; which things give to those

who have seen them sure hope of the future increase of our said most holy faith & of your

seigniories & most christian name, as it may please you to see by this present little book: In

which are fully contained all the things worthy of remembrance, which we have seen &c which

have happened to us, as well in making the said voyage as being & sojourning in your said

country & lands, the routes, dangers, & bearing of the said lands.

Stephen Leacock: “Cartier’s Second Voyage”

From The Mariner of St. Malo

The second voyage of Jacques Cartier, undertaken in the years 1535 and 1536, is the exploit

on which his title to fame chiefly rests…. The report of Cartier's first voyage, written by himself,

brought to him the immediate favour of the king… He was entitled to engage at the king's charge

three ships, equipped and provisioned for fifteen months, so that he might be able to spend, at least,

an entire year in actual exploration. Cartier spent the winter in making his preparations, and in the

springtime of the next year (1535) all was ready for the voyage.

… Before sailing, every man of the company repaired to the Cathedral Church of St Malo,

where all confessed their sins and received the benediction of the good bishop of the town. This

was on the day and feast of Pentecost in 1535, and three days later, on May 19, the ships sailed out

from the little harbour and were borne with a fair wind beyond the horizon of the west. But the

voyage was by no means as prosperous as that of the year before. The ships kept happily together

until May 26. Then they were assailed in mid-Atlantic by furious gales from the west, and were

enveloped in dense banks of fog. During a month of buffeting against adverse seas, they were

driven apart and lost sight of one another.

Cartier in the Grande Hermine reached the coast of Newfoundland safely on July coming

again to the Island of Birds... From this point the ships sailed again to Anticosti and reached the

extreme western cape of that island. Their two Indian guides were now in a familiar country. The

land in sight, they told Cartier, was a great island; south of it was Gaspe, from which country

Cartier had taken them in the preceding summer; two days' journey beyond the island towards the

west lay the kingdom of Saguenay, a part of the northern coast that stretches westwards towards

the land of Canada.

The use of this name, destined to mean so much to later generations, here appears for the first

time in Cartier's narrative. The word was evidently taken from the lips of the savages, but its exact

significance has remained a matter of dispute. The most fantastic derivations have been suggested.

Charlevoix, writing two hundred years later, even tells us that the name originated from the fact

that the Spaniards had been upon the coast before Cartier, looking for mines. Their search proving


fruitless, they kept repeating 'aca nada' (that is 'nothing here') in the hearing of the savages, who

repeated the words to the French, thus causing them to suppose this to be the name of the country.

There seems no doubt, however, that the word is Indian, though whether it is from the Iroquois

Kannata, a settlement, or from some term meaning a narrow strait or passage, it is impossible to

say….

The announcement that the waters in which he was sailing led inward to a fresh-water river

brought to Cartier not the sense of elation that should have accompanied so great a discovery, but

a feeling of disappointment. A fresh-water river could not be the westward passage to Asia that he

had hoped to find, and, interested though he might be in the rumoured kingdom of Saguenay, it

was with reluctance that he turned from the waters of the Gulf to the ascent of the great river.

Indeed, he decided not to do this until he had tried by every means to find the wished-for opening

on the coast of the Gulf. Accordingly, he sailed to the northern shore and came to the land among

the Seven Islands, which lie near the mouth of the Ste Marguerite river, about eighty-five miles

west of Anticosti,—the Round Islands, Cartier called them. Here, having brought the ships to a

safe anchorage, riding in twenty fathoms of water, he sent the boats eastward to explore the portion

of the coast towards Anticosti which he had not yet seen. He cherished a last hope that here,

perhaps, the westward passage might open before him. But the boats returned from the expedition

with no news other than that of a river flowing into the Gulf, in such volume that its water was still

fresh three miles from the shore. The men declared, too, that they had seen 'fishes shaped like

horses,' which, so the Indians said, retired to shore at night, and spent the day in the sea. The

creatures, no doubt, were walruses….

The expedition moved westward up the St Lawrence…. On September 7 the vessels sailed

about thirty miles beyond Isle-aux-Coudres, and came to a group of islands, one of which,

extending for about twenty miles up the river, appeared so fertile and so densely covered with wild

grapes hanging to the river's edge, that Cartier named it the Isle of Bacchus. He himself, however,

afterwards altered the name to the Island of Orleans. These islands, so the savages said, marked

the beginning of the country known as Canada.

At the time when Cartier ascended the St Lawrence, a great settlement of the Huron-Iroquois

Indians existed at Quebec. Their village was situated below the heights, close to the banks of the

St Charles, a small tributary of the St Lawrence. Here the lodges of the tribe gave shelter to many

hundred people. Beautiful trees—elm and ash and maple and birch, as fair as the trees of France—

adorned the banks of the river, and the open spaces of the woods waved with the luxuriant growth

of Indian corn. Here were the winter home of the tribe and the wigwam of the chief. From this spot

hunting and fishing parties of the savages descended the great river and wandered as far as the

pleasant country of Chaleur Bay. Sixty-four years later, when Champlain ascended the St

Lawrence, the settlement and the tribe that formerly occupied the spot had vanished. But in the

time of Cartier the Quebec village, under its native name of Stadacona, seems to have been, next

to Hochelaga, the most important lodgment of the Huron-Iroquois Indians of the St Lawrence

valley….

The news of the arrival of the strangers spread at once through the settlement. To see the

ships, canoe after canoe came floating down the river. They were filled with men and women eager

to welcome their returned kinsmen and to share in the trinkets which Cartier distributed with a

liberal hand. On the next day the chief of the tribe, the lord of Canada, as Cartier calls him,

Donnacona by name, visited the French ships. The ceremonial was appropriate to his rank. Twelve

canoes filled with Indian warriors appeared upon the stream. As they neared the ships, at a

command from Donnacona, all fell back except two, which came close alongside the Emerillon.


Donnacona then delivered a powerful and lengthy harangue, accompanied by wondrous

gesticulations of body and limbs. The canoes then moved down to the side of the Grande Hermine,

where Donnacona spoke with Cartier's guides. As these savages told him of the wonders they had

seen in France, he was apparently moved to very transports of joy. Nothing would satisfy him but

that Cartier should step down into the canoe, that the chief might put his arms about his neck in

sign of welcome. Cartier, unable to rival Donnacona's oratory, made up for it by causing the sailors

hand down food and wine, to the keen delight of the Indians….

The Indians were most friendly. When, on September 14, the French had sailed into the St

Charles, Donnacona had again met them, accompanied by twenty-five canoes filled with his

followers. The savages, by their noisy conduct and strange antics, gave every sign of joy over the

arrival of the French. But from the first Cartier seems to have had his misgivings as to their good

faith. He was struck by the fact that his two Indian interpreters, who had rejoined the ranks of their

countrymen, seemed now to receive him with a sullen distrust, and refused his repeated invitations

to re-enter his ships. He asked them whether they were still willing to go on with him to Hochelaga,

of which they had told him, and which it was his purpose to visit. The two Indians assented, but

their manner was equivocal and inspired Cartier with distrust.

The day after this a great concourse of Indians came again to the river bank to see the

strangers, but Donnacona and his immediate followers, including Taignoagny and Domagaya,

stood apart under a point of land on the river bank sullenly watching the movements of the French,

who were busied in setting out buoys and harbour-marks for their anchorage. Cartier, noticing this,

took a few of his sailors, fully armed, and marched straight to where the chief stood. Taignoagny,

the interpreter, came forward and entered upon a voluble harangue, telling the French captain that

Donnacona was grieved to see him and his men so fully armed, while he and his people bore no

weapons in their hands. Cartier told Taignoagny, who had been in France, that to carry arms was

the custom of his country, and that he knew it. Indeed, since Donnacona continued to make

gestures of pleasure and friendship, the explorer concluded that the interpreter only and not the


Indian chief was the cause of the distrust. Yet he narrates that before Donnacona left them, 'all his

people at once with a loud voice cast out three great cries, a horrible thing to hear.' The Indian war-

whoop, if such it was, is certainly not a reassuring sound, but Cartier and Donnacona took leave

of one another with repeated assurances of good-will.

The following day, September 16, the Indians came again. About five hundred of them, so

Cartier tells us, gathered about the ships. Donnacona, with 'ten or twelve of the chiefest men of the

country,' came on board the ships, where Cartier held a great feast for them and gave them presents

in accordance with their rank. Taignoagny explained to Cartier that Donnacona was grieved that

he was going up to Hochelaga. The river, said the guide, was of no importance, and the journey

was not worth while. Cartier's reply to this protest was that he had been commanded by his king

to go as far as he could go, but that, after seeing Hochelaga, he would come back again. On this

Taignoagny flatly refused to act as guide, and the Indians abruptly left the ship and went ashore.

Cartier must, indeed, have been perplexed, and perhaps alarmed, at the conduct of the

Stadacona natives. It was his policy throughout his voyages to deal with the Indians fairly and

generously, to avoid all violence towards them, and to content himself with bringing to them the

news of the Gospel and the visible signs of the greatness of the king of France. The cruelties of the

Spanish conquerors of the south were foreign to his nature. The few acts of injustice with which

his memory has been charged may easily be excused in the light of the circumstances of his age.

But he could not have failed to realize the possibilities of a sudden and murderous onslaught on

the part of savages who thus combined a greedy readiness for feasting and presents with a sullen

and brooding distrust.

Donnacona and his people were back again on the morrow, still vainly endeavouring to

dissuade the French from their enterprise. They brought with them a great quantity of eels and fish

as presents, and danced and sang upon the shore opposite the ships in token of their friendship.

When Cartier and his men came ashore, Donnacona made all his people stand back from the beach.

He drew in the sand a huge ring, and into this he led the French. Then, selecting from the ranks of

his followers, who stood in a great circle watching the ceremony, a little girl of ten years old, he

led her into the ring and presented her to Cartier. After her, two little boys were handed over in the

same fashion, the assembled Indians rending the air with shouts of exultation. Donnacona, in true

Indian fashion, improved the occasion with a long harangue, which Taignoagny interpreted to

mean that the little girl was the niece of the chief and one of the boys the brother of the interpreter

himself, and that the explorer might keep all these children as a gift if he would promise not to go

to Hochelaga.

Cartier at once, by signs and speech, offered the children back again, whereupon the other

interpreter, Domagaya, broke in and said that the children were given in good-will, and that

Donnacona was well content that Cartier should go to Hochelaga. The three poor little savages

were carried to the boats, the two interpreters wrangling and fighting the while as to what had

really been said. But Cartier felt assured that the treachery, if any were contemplated, came only

from one of them, Taignoagny. As a great mark of trust he gave to Donnacona two swords, a basin

of plain brass and a ewer—gifts which called forth renewed shouts of joy. Before the assemblage

broke up, the chief asked Cartier to cause the ships' cannons to be fired, as he had learned from the

two guides that they made such a marvellous noise as was never heard before.

'Our captain answered,' writes Cartier in his narrative, 'that he was content: and by and by he

commanded his men to shoot off twelve cannons into the wood that was hard by the people and

the ships, at which noise they were greatly astonished and amazed, for they thought the heaven


had fallen upon them, and put themselves to flight, howling, crying and shrieking, so that it seemed

hell was broken loose.'

Next day the Indians made one more attempt to dissuade Cartier from his journey. Finding

that persuasion and oratory were of no avail, they decided to fall back upon the supernatural and

to frighten the French from their design. Their artifice was transparent enough, but to the minds of

the simple savages was calculated to strike awe into the hearts of their visitors. Instead of coming

near the ships, as they had done on each preceding day, the Indians secreted themselves in the

woods along the shore. There they lay hid for many hours, while the French were busied with their

preparations for departure. But later in the day, when the tide was running swiftly outward, the

Indians in their canoes came paddling down the stream towards the ships, not, however, trying to

approach them, but keeping some little distance away as if in expectation of something unusual.

The mystery soon revealed itself. From beneath the foliage of the river bank a canoe shot into

the stream, the hideous appearance of its occupants contrasting with the bright autumn tints that

were lending their glory to the Canadian woods. The three Indians in the canoe had been carefully

made up by their fellows as 'stage devils' to strike horror into Cartier and his companions. They

were 'dressed like devils, being wrapped in dog skins, white and black, their faces besmeared as

black as any coals, with horns on their heads more than a yard long.' The canoe came rushing

swiftly down the stream, and floated past the ships, the 'devils' who occupied the craft making no

attempt to stop, not even turning towards the ships, but counterfeiting, as it were, the sacred frenzy

of angry deities. The devil in the centre shouted a fierce harangue into the air. No sooner did the

canoe pass the ships than Donnacona and his braves in their light barques set after it, paddling so

swiftly as to overtake the canoe of the 'devils' and seize the gunwale of it in their hands.

The whole thing was a piece of characteristic Indian acting, viewed by the French with

interest, but apparently without the faintest alarm. The 'devils,' as soon as their boat was seized by

the profane touch of the savages, fell back as if lifeless in their canoe. The assembled flotilla was

directed to the shore. The 'devils' were lifted out rigid and lifeless and carried solemnly into the

forest. The leaves of the underbrush closed behind them and they were concealed from sight, but

from the deck of the ship the French could still hear the noise of cries and incantations that broke

the stillness of the woods. After half an hour Taignoagny and Domagaya issued from among the

trees. Their walk and their actions were solemnity itself, while their faces simulated the religious

ecstasy of men who have spoken with the gods. The caps that they had worn were now placed

beneath the folds of their Indian blankets, and their clasped hands were uplifted to the autumn sky.

Taignoagny cried out three times upon the name of Jesus….

Cartier very naturally called to them to know what was the matter; whereupon Taignoagny

in doleful tones called out, 'Ill news!' Cartier urged the Indian to explain, and the guide, still acting

the part of one who bears tidings from heaven, said that the great god, Cudragny, had spoken at

Hochelaga and had sent down three 'spirits' in the canoe to warn Cartier that he must not try to

come to Hochelaga, because there was so much ice and snow in that country that whoever went

there should die.

In the face of this awful revelation, Cartier showed a cheerful and contemptuous scepticism.

'Their god, Cudragny,' he said, must be 'a fool and a noodle,' and that, as for the cold, Christ would

protect his followers from that, if they would but believe in Him…

The strange conduct of Donnacona and his Indians is not easy to explain. It is quite possible

that they meditated some treachery towards the French: indeed, Cartier from first to last was

suspicious of their intentions, and, as we shall see, was careful after his return to Stadacona never

to put himself within their power. To the very end of his voyage he seems to have been of the


opinion that if he and his men were caught off their guard, Donnacona and his braves would destroy

the whole of them for the sake of their coveted possessions. The stories that he heard now and later

from his guides of the horrors of Indian war and of a great massacre at the Bic Islands certainly

gave him just grounds for suspicion and counselled prudence. Some writers are agreed, however,

that the Indians had no hostile intentions whatever. The new-comers seemed to them wondrous

beings, floating on the surface of the water in great winged houses, causing the thunder to roll forth

from their abode at will and, more than all, feasting their friends and giving to them such gifts as

could only come from heaven. Such guests were too valuable to lose. The Indians knew well of

the settlement at Hochelaga, and of the fair country where it lay. They feared that if Cartier once

sailed to it, he and his presents—the red caps and the brass bowls sent direct from heaven—would

be lost to them for ever.

Nine days of prosperous sailing carried Cartier in his pinnace from Stadacona to the broad

expansion of the St Lawrence, afterwards named Lake St Peter. The autumn scene as the little

vessel ascended the stream was one of extreme beauty. The banks of the river were covered with

glorious forests resplendent now with the red and gold of the turning leaves. Grape-vines grew

thickly on every hand, laden with their clustered fruit….

Three days of easy and prosperous navigation was sufficient for the journey, and on October

2, Cartier's boats, having rowed along the shores of Montreal island, landed in full sight of Mount

Royal, at some point about three or four miles from the heart of the present city. The precise

location of the landing has been lost to history… What is certain is that the French brought their

boats to shore among a great crowd of assembled savages,—a thousand persons, Cartier says,—

and that they were received with tumultuous joy. The Indians leaped and sang, their familiar mode

of celebrating welcome. They offered to the explorers great quantities of fish and of the bread

which they baked from the ripened corn. They brought little children in their arms, making signs

for Cartier and his companions to touch them.

As the twilight gathered, the French withdrew to their boats, while the savages, who were

loath to leave the spot, lighted huge bonfires on the shore. A striking and weird picture it conjures

up before our eyes,—the French sailors with their bronzed and bearded faces, their strange dress


and accoutrements, the glare of the great bonfires on the edge of the dark waters, the wild dances

of the exultant Indians. The romance and inspiration of the history of Canada are suggested by this

riotous welcome of the Old World by the New. It meant that mighty changes were pending; the

eye of imagination may see in the background the shadowed outline of the spires and steeples of

the great city of to-day.

On the next day, October 3, the French were astir with the first light of the morning. A few

of their number were left to guard the boats; the others, accompanied by some of the Indians, set

out on foot for Hochelaga. Their way lay over a beaten path through the woods. It brought them

presently to the tall palisades that surrounded the group of long wooden houses forming the Indian

settlement…. But the visit of Cartier is an event of such historic interest that it can best be narrated

in the words of his own narrative…

In the midst of those fields is the city of Hochelaga, placed near and, as

it were, joined to a very great mountain, that is tilled round about, very

fertile, on the top of which you may see very far. We named it Mount

Royal. The city of Hochelaga is round compassed about with timber,

with three courses of rampires [stockades], one within another, framed

like a sharp spire, but laid across above. The middlemost of them is made

and built as a direct line but perpendicular. The rampires are framed

and fashioned with pieces of timber laid along on the ground, very well

and cunningly joined together after their fashion. This enclosure is in

height about two rods. It hath but one gate of entry thereat, which is shut

with piles, stakes, and bars. Over it and also in many places of the wall

there be places to run along and ladders to get up, all full of stones, for

the defence of it. There are in the town about fifty houses, about fifty

paces long, and twelve or fifteen broad, built all of wood, covered over

with the bark of the wood as broad as any board, very finely and

cunningly joined together. Within the said houses there are many rooms,

lodgings and chambers. In the midst of every one there is a great court

in the middle whereof they make their fire.

Such is the picture of Hochelaga as Cartier has drawn it for us. Arrived at the palisade, the

savages conducted Cartier and his followers within. In the central space of the stockade was a large

square, bordered by the lodges of the Indians. In this the French were halted, and the natives

gathered about them, the women, many of whom bore children in their, arms, pressing close up to

the visitors, stroking their faces and arms, and making entreaties by signs that the French should

touch their children.

Then presently [writes Cartier] came the women again, every one

bringing a four-square mat in the manner of carpets, and spreading them

abroad in that place, they caused us to sit upon them. This done the lord

and king of the country was brought upon nine or ten men's shoulders

(whom in their tongue they call Agouhanna), sitting upon a great stag's

skin, and they laid him down upon the foresaid mats near to the captain,

every one beckoning unto us that he was their lord and king. This

Agouhanna was a man about fifty pears old. He was no whit better


apparelled than any of the rest, only excepted that he had a certain thing

made of hedgehogs [porcupines], like a red wreath, and that was instead

of his crown. He was full of the palsy, and his members shrunk together.

After he had with certain signs saluted our captain and all his company,

and by manifest tokens bid all welcome, he showed his legs and arms to

our captain, and with signs desired him to touch them, and so we did,

rubbing them with his own hands; then did Agouhanna take the wreath

or crown he had about his head, and gave it unto our captain That done,

they brought before him divers diseased men, some blind, some crippled,

some lame, and some so old that the hair of their eyelids came down and

covered their cheeks, and laid them all along before our captain to the

end that they might of him be touched. For it seemed unto them that God

was descended and come down from heaven to heal them.

Our captain, seeing the misery and devotion of this poor people, recited

the Gospel of St John, that is to say, 'IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE

WORD,' touching every one that were [sic] diseased, praying to God

that it would please Him to open the hearts of the poor people and to

make them know His Holy Word, and that they might receive baptism

and Christendom. That done, he took a service-book in his hand, and

with a loud voice read all the passion of Christ, word by word, that all

the standers-by might hear him; all which while this poor people kept

silence and were marvellously attentive, looking up to heaven and

imitating us in gestures. Then he caused the men all orderly to be set on

one side, the women on another, and likewise the children on another,

and to the chiefest of them he gave hatchets, to the others knives, and to

the women beads and such other small trifles. Then where the children

were he cast rings, counters and brooches made of tin, whereat they

seemed to be very glad.

Before Cartier and his men returned to their boats, some of the Indians took them up to the

top of Mount Royal. Here a magnificent prospect offered itself, then, as now, to the eye. The broad

level of the island swept towards the west, luxuriant with yellow corn and autumn foliage. In the

distance the eye discerned the foaming waters of Lachine, and the silver bosom of the Lake of the

Two Mountains: 'as fair and level a country,' said Cartier, 'as possibly can be seen, being level,

smooth, and very plain, fit to be husbanded and tilled.'

The Indians, pointing to the west, explained by signs that beyond the rapids were three other

great falls of water, and that when these were passed a man might travel for three months up the

waters of the great river. Such at least Cartier understood to be the meaning of the Indians. They

showed him a second stream, the Ottawa, as great, they said, as the St Lawrence, whose north-

westward course Cartier supposed must run through the kingdom of Saguenay. As the savages

pointed to the Ottawa, they took hold of a silver chain on which hung the whistle that Cartier

carried, and then touched the dagger of one of the sailors, which had a handle of copper, yellow as

gold, as if to show that these metals, or rather silver and gold, came from the country beyond that

river. This, at least, was the way that Cartier interpreted the simple and evident signs that the

Indians made. The commentators on Cartier's voyages have ever since sought some other


explanation, supposing that no such metals existed in the country. The discovery of the gold and

silver deposits of the basin of the Ottawa in the district of New Ontario shows that Cartier had

truly understood the signs of the Indians. If they had ever seen silver before, it is precisely from

this country that it would have come. Cartier was given to understand, also, that in this same region

there dwelt another race of savages, very fierce, and continually at war.

The party descended from the mountain and pursued their way towards the boats. Their Indian

friends hung upon their footsteps, showing evidences of admiration and affection, and even carried

in their arms any of the French who showed indications of weariness. They stood about with every

sign of grief and regret as the sails were hoisted and the boats bearing the wonderful beings

dropped swiftly down the river…

The French now settled down into their winter quarters. They seem for some time to have

mingled freely with the Indians of the Stadacona settlement, especially during the month which

yet remained before the rigour of winter locked their ships in snow and ice. Cartier, being of an

observing and accurate turn of mind, has left in his narrative some interesting notes upon the life

and ideas of the savages. They had, he said, no beLeif in a true God. Their deity, Cudragny, was

supposed to tell them the weather, and, if angry, to throw dust into their eyes. They thought that,

when they died, they would go to the stars, and after that, little by little, sink with the stars to earth

again, to where the happy hunting grounds lie on the far horizon of the world. To correct their

ignorance, Cartier told them of the true God and of the verities of the Christian faith. In the end

the savages begged that he would baptize them, and on at least one occasion a great flock of them

came to him, hoping to be received into the faith. But Cartier, as he says, having nobody with him

'who could teach them our beLeif and religion,' and doubting, also, the sincerity of their sudden

conversion, put them off with the promise that at his next coming he would bring priests and holy

oil and cause them to be baptized.

….One peculiar custom of the natives especially attracted the attention of their visitors, and

for the oddity of the thing may best be recorded in Cartier's manner. It is an early account of the

use of tobacco. 'There groweth also,' he wrote, 'a certain kind of herb, whereof in summer they

make a great provision for all the year, making great account of it, and only men use it, and first

they cause it to be dried in the sun, then wear it about their necks, wrapped in a little beast's skin

made like a little bag, with a hollow piece of wood or stone like a pipe. Then when they please

they make powder of it, and then put it in one of the ends of the said cornet or pipe, and laying a

coal of fire upon it, at the other end suck so long that they fill their bodies full of smoke till that it

cometh out of their mouth and nostrils, even as out of the funnel of a chimney. They say that it

doth keep them warm and in health: they never go without some of it about them. We ourselves

have tried the same smoke, and, having put it in our mouths, it seemed almost as hot as pepper.'

… Meanwhile a visiting chief, from the country farther inland, gave the French captain to

understand that Donnacona and his braves were waiting only an opportunity to overwhelm the

ships' company. Cartier kept on his guard. He strengthened the fort with a great moat that ran all

round the stockade. The only entry was now by a lifting bridge; and pointed stakes were driven in

beside the upright palisade. Fifty men, divided into watches, were kept on guard all night, and, at

every change of the watch, the Indians, across the river in their lodges of the Stadacona settlement,

could hear the loud sounds of the trumpets break the clear silence of the winter night.

We have no record of the life of Cartier and his followers during the winter of their isolation

among the snows and the savages of Quebec. It must, indeed, have been a season of dread. The

northern cold was soon upon them in all its rigour. The ships were frozen in at their moorings from

the middle of November till April 15. The ice lay two fathoms thick in the river, and the driving


snows and great drifts blotted out under the frozen mantle of winter all sight of land and water.

The French could scarcely stir from their quarters. Their fear of Indian treachery and their

ignorance of the trackless country about them held them imprisoned in their ships. A worse peril

was soon added. The scourge of scurvy was laid upon them—an awful disease, hideous in its form

and deadly in its effect. Originating in the Indian camp, it spread to the ships. In December fifty

of the Stadacona Indians died, and by the middle of February, of the hundred and ten men that

made up Cartier's expedition, only three or four remained in health. Eight were already dead, and

their bodies, for want of burial, lay frozen stark beneath the snowdrifts of the river, hidden from

the prying eyes of the savages. Fifty more lay at the point of death, and the others, crippled and

staggering with the onslaught of disease, moved to and fro at their tasks, their fingers numbed with

cold, their hearts frozen with despair.

The plague that had fallen upon them was such as none of them had ever before seen. The

legs of the sufferers swelled to huge, unsightly, and livid masses of flesh. Their sinews shrivelled

to blackened strings, pimpled with purple clots of blood. The awful disease worked its way

upwards. The arms hung hideous and useless at the side, the mouth rotted till the teeth fell from

the putrid flesh. Chilled with the cold, huddled in the narrow holds of the little ships fast frozen in

the endless desolation of the snow, the agonized sufferers breathed their last, remote from aid, far

from the love of women, and deprived of the consolations of the Church. Let those who realize the

full horror of the picture think well upon what stout deeds the commonwealth of Canada has been

founded.

Without the courage and resource of their leader, whose iron constitution kept him in full

health, all would have been lost. Cartier spared no efforts. The knowledge of his situation was

concealed from the Indians. None were allowed aboard the ships, and, as far as might be, a great

clatter of hammering was kept up whenever the Indians appeared in sight, so that they might

suppose that Cartier's men were forced by the urgency of their tasks to remain on the ships. Nor

was spiritual aid neglected. An image of the Virgin Mary was placed against a tree about a bow-

shot from the fort, and to this all who could walk betook themselves in procession on the Sunday

when the sickness was at its height. They moved in solemn order, singing as they went the

penitential psalms and the Litany, and imploring the intercession of the Virgin. Thus passed the

days until twenty-five of the French had been laid beneath the snow. For the others there seemed

only the prospect of death from disease or of destruction at the hands of the savages.

It happened one day that Cartier was walking up and down by himself upon the ice when he

saw a band of Indians coming over to him from Stadacona. Among them was the interpreter

Domagaya, whom Cartier had known to be stricken by the illness only ten days before, but who

now appeared in abundant health. On being asked the manner of his cure, the interpreter told

Cartier that he had been healed by a beverage made from the leaves and bark of a tree. Cartier, as

we have seen, had kept from the Indians the knowledge of his troubles, for he dared not disclose

the real weakness of the French. Now, feigning that only a servant was ill, he asked for details of

the remedy, and, when he did so, the Indians sent their women to fetch branches of the tree in

question. The bark and leaves were to be boiled, and the drink thus made was to be taken twice a

day. The potion was duly administered, and the cure that it effected was so rapid and so complete

that the pious Cartier declared it a real and evident miracle. 'If all the doctors of Lorraine and

Montpellier had been there with all the drugs of Alexandria,' he wrote, 'they could not have done

as much in a year as the said tree did in six days.' An entire tree—probably a white spruce—was

used up in less than eight days. The scourge passed and the sailors, now restored to health, eagerly

awaited the coming of the spring.


Meanwhile the cold lessened; the ice about the ships relaxed its hold, and by the middle of

April they once more floated free. But a new anxiety had been added. About the time when the

fortunes of Cartier's company were at their lowest, Donnacona had left his camp with certain of

his followers, ostensibly to spend a fortnight in hunting deer in the forest. For two months he did

not return. When he came back, he was accompanied not only by Taignoagny and his own braves,

but by a great number of savages, fierce and strong, whom the French had never before seen.

Cartier was assured that treachery was brewing, and he determined to forestall it. He took care that

his men should keep away from the settlement of Stadacona, but he sent over his servant, Charles

Guyot, who had endeared himself to the Indians during the winter. Guyot reported that the lodges

were filled with strange faces, that Donnacona had pretended to be sick and would not show

himself, and that he himself had been received with suspicion, Taignoagny having forbidden him

to enter into some of the houses.

Cartier's plan was soon made. The river was now open and all was ready for departure. Rather

than allow himself and his men to be overwhelmed by an attack of the great concourse of warriors

who surrounded the settlement of Stadacona, he determined to take his leave in his own way and

at his own time, and to carry off with him the leaders of the savages themselves. Following the

custom of his age, he did not wish to return without the visible signs of his achievements.

Donnacona had freely boasted to him of the wonders of the great country far up beyond Hochelaga,

of lands where gold and silver existed in abundance, where the people dressed like the French in

woollen clothes, and of even greater wonders still,—of men with no stomachs, and of a race of

beings with only one leg. These things were of such import, Cartier thought, that they merited

narration to the king of France himself. If Donnacona had actually seen them, it was fitting that he

should describe them in the august presence of Francis I.

The result was a plot which succeeded. The two ships, the Grande Hermine and the Emerillon,

lay at anchor ready to sail. Owing to the diminished numbers of his company, Cartier had decided

to abandon the third ship. He announced a final ceremony to signalize the approaching departure.

On May 3, 1536, a tall cross, thirty-five feet high was planted on the river bank. Beneath the cross-


bar it carried the arms of France, and on the upper part a scroll in ancient lettering that read,

'FRANCISCUS PRIMUS DEI GRATIA FRANCORUM REX REGNAT' Which means, freely

translated, 'Francis I, by the grace of God King of the French, is sovereign.' Donnacona,

Taignoagny, Domagaya and a few others, who had been invited to come on board the ships, found

themselves the prisoners of the French. At first rage and consternation seized upon the savages,

deprived by this stratagem of their chief. They gathered in great numbers on the bank, and their

terrifying howls and war-cries resounded throughout the night. But Donnacona, whether from

simplicity or craft, let himself be pacified with new presents and with the promise of a speedy

return in the year following. He showed himself on the deck of the captain's ship, and his delighted

followers gathered about in their canoes and swore renewed friendship with the white men, whom

they had, in all likelihood, plotted to betray. Gifts were exchanged, and the French bestowed a last

shower of presents on the assembled Indians. Finally, on May 6, the caravels dropped down the

river, and the homeward voyage began.

Documents

The Crown of the World - WISDOM Home Schooling · The Crown of the World, Page 2 the raft and looked at his paws, they found a little mud in them. When Old Man had dried this mud,