Father Paul Le Jeune: “Brief Relation of the Journey to New France”

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My Reverend Father [Barthelamy Jacquinot]:

Having been notified by you on the last day of March that I should embark as early as possible at Havre de grace, to sail directly for New France, the joy and happiness that I felt in my soul was so great that I believe I have experienced nothing like it for twenty years, nor has any letter been so welcome to me. I left Dieppe the next day, and, going to Roüen, Father de Nouë, our Brother Gilbert, and I united in one company. Being in Havre, we went to pay our respects to monsieur du Pont, nephew of Monseigneur the Cardinal, who gave us a passport signed by his own hand, in which he said that it was the wish of the Cardinal that we should go to New France. We are under peculiar obligations to the benevolence of monsieur the Curé of Havre, and of the Ursuline Mothers; for, as we had not foreseen our departure, if Father Charles Lallemant, of Roüen, and these good people in Havre, had not assisted us in the hasty preparations we were obliged to make, we should, without doubt, have been very badly off. From Havre we went to Honfleur, and on Low Sunday, April 18th, we set sail.

We had fine weather at first, and made about six hundred leagues in ten days; but we could hardly cover two hundred on the following thirty-three days. After this fine weather we had little but storms and contrary winds, except a few pleasant hours which were vouchsafed us from time to time. I had sometimes seen the angry sea from the windows of our little house at Dieppe; but watching the fury of the Ocean from the shore is quite different from tossing upon its waves. During three or four days we were close-reefed, as sailors say, our helm fastened down. The vessel was left to the will of the billows and the waves, which bore it at times upon mountains of water, then suddenly down into the depths of the sea. You would have said that the winds were unchained against us. Every moment we feared lest they should snap our masts, or that the ship would spring a leak; and, in fact, there was a leak, which would, as I heard reported, have sunk us if it had been lower down. It is one thing to reflect upon death in one’s cell, before the image on the Crucifix; but quite another to think of it in the midst of a tempest and in the presence of death itself. But I say to you honestly, that, although nature longs for its preservation, nevertheless, in the depths of my soul, I felt quite as much inclination to death as to life; I kept constantly before my eyes, that he who had brought me upon the sea had some good purpose, and that he must be allowed to do as he pleases. I dared not ask of him anything for myself, unless it were to offer up my life for all on the ship. When I realized that in a few hours I might see myself in the midst of the waves, and perhaps in the depths of the blackest night, I found some consolation in the thought that there, where there would be less of the creature, there would be more of the Creator, and that it would be really dying by his hand. But my weakness makes me fear that perhaps, if that had really happened, my thoughts and inclinations might have been greatly changed.

But, to speak of other things, we found winter in summer; that is to say, in the month of May and a part of June, the winds and the fogs chilled us; Father de Nouë’s feet and hands were frozen; and, besides this, I had pains in my head or heart, which scarcely left me at all during the first month; and a keen thirst, because we ate nothing but salted food, and there was no fresh water upon our vessel. The size of our cabins was such that we could not stand upright, kneel, or sit down; and, what is worse, during the rain, the water fell at times upon my face. All these discomforts were shared by the others; but the poor sailors suffered many more. All that is past; thank God, I would not have wished to be in France. All these little afflictions have not as yet, I believe, caused us the least sadness over our departure. God never suffers himself to be vanquished; if you give him mites, he gives mines of gold. Still, it seems to me that I get along better than Father de Nouë, who, for a long time, was hardly able to eat; as to our Brother, he is like the Amphibious animals; he is just as much at home on the sea as on the land.

On Pentecost day, just as I was ready to preach, as I usually did on Sundays and great Fete days, one of our sailors began to cry out, “codfish! codfish!” He had thrown in his line and had brought out a large one. We had already been on the banks several days, but had caught very little. On that day we drew in as many as we liked. It was a pleasure to see so great a slaughter, and so much of this blood shed upon the deck of our ship. These fresh supplies were very welcome to us after such continuous storms.

On the following Tuesday, the first day of June, we saw land. It was still covered with snow, for the winter, always severe in this country, was extremely so this year. Some days before, to wit, the 15th and 18th of May, being still distant from land about two hundred leagues, we had encountered two icebergs of enormous size, floating upon the sea. They were longer than our ship and higher than our masts, and as the Sunlight fell upon them you would have said they were Churches, or rather, mountains of crystal. I would hardly have believed it if I had not seen it. When a great number of them are encountered, and the ship finds itself caught among them, it is very soon broken into pieces.

On Thursday, June 3rd, we passed into the country through one of the most beautiful rivers in the world. The great Island of newfoundland intercepts it at its mouth, leaving two openings whereby it can empty into the sea, one to the North and the other to the South. We sailed in through the latter, which is about 13 or 14 leagues wide. Upon entering, you discover a gulf 150 leagues wide; going farther up, where this grand river begins to narrow, it is even there 37 leagues wide. Where we are, in Quebec, distant over 200 leagues from its mouth, it is still half a league wide.

At the entrance of this gulf we saw two rocks, one appearing to be round, the other square. You would say that God had thrown them into the midst of the waters, like two dovecotes, as a retreat for the birds that withdraw there in such multitudes that you would almost tread upon them; and if you do not obtain a good foothold, they rise up in such numbers that they may knock you over. Boats, or little skiffs, full of them are brought back to the ships, when the weather permits approach to these islands, which the French have named the Isles of birds. Ships come into this Gulf on whaling expeditions. We have seen a great many fishing also for cod. I saw here a number of seals, and our people killed some of them. In this great river, which is called the St. Lawrence, white porpoises are found, and nowhere else. The English call them white whales, because they are very large compared with the other porpoises; they go up as far as Quebec.

On the day of Holy Trinity, we were compelled to stop at Gaspay, a large body of water extending into this country. It was here that we trod land for the first time since our departure. Never did man, after a long voyage, return to his country with more joy than we entered ours; it is thus we call these wretched lands. We found here two ships, one from Honneur and the other from Biscaye, which had come to fish for cod. We begged the people from Honneur to raise an altar for us, that we might celebrate the Holy Mass in their cabin; and there was a strife among them as to who should work upon it, so greatly were they pleased. So I said to them, laughingly, that in building their cabin they did not think they were building a Chapel. When I came to the Gospel appointed for that day in the Mass, and which was the first that I had read in these lands, I was very much astonished in hearing these words of the Son of God to his Disciples, Data est mihi omnis potestas in coelo & in terra, euntes ergo docete omnes gentes baptisantes eos in nomine Patris, etc. Ecce ego vobiscum, etc. I took these words as a good omen, although I clearly saw that they were not addressed to so poor a person as I. But it is my opinion that I come here like the pioneers, who go ahead to dig the trenches; after them come brave soldiers, who besiege and take the place.

After Mass we went into the woods; the snow was still very deep, and so strong that it bore our weight. In the morning there was a hard frost; and, when I went to wash my hands in the torrent of water which flowed down from the mountains, I found the edges of it completely frozen. Here our people killed a number of large gray partridges, as large as our chickens in France. They also killed some hares, larger-footed than ours, and still a little white; for in this country the hares are all white, while the snow lasts, and during the summer they resume their color like that of the European hares.

The next day we again set sail, and on the 18th of June we cast anchor at Tadoussac. This is another bay or very small cove, near which there is a river named Sagué [Saguenay], which empties into the great river St. Lawrence. This river is as beautiful as the Seine, about as rapid as the Rosne [Rhone], and deeper than many places in the sea, for it is said to be 80 fathoms deep in its shallowest places. As we were on our way to say the Holy Mass on the shore, one of our soldiers killed a great eagle near its eyrie. Its head and neck were entirely white, the beak and feet yellow, the rest of the body blackish; it was as large as a Turkey-cock. We sojourned here from the 14th of June to the 3rd of July; that is to say, 19 days. It was still very cold when we arrived, but before leaving we felt excessive heat and yet it was only the spring, since the trees had only just begun to put forth their foliage. In a very short time the leaves, the buds, the flowers, and the fruit appear here and ripen; I mean the wild fruit, as there is no other. It was here that I saw Savages for the first time. As soon as they saw our vessel, they lighted fires, and two of them came on board in a little canoe very neatly made of bark. The next day a Sagamore, with ten or twelve Savages, came to see us. When I saw them enter our Captain’s room, where I happened to be, it seemed to me that I was looking at those maskers who run about in France in Carnival time. There were some whose noses were painted blue, the eyes, eyebrows, and cheeks painted black, and the rest of the face red; and these colors are bright and shining like those of our masks; others had black, red, and blue stripes drawn from the ears to the mouth. Still others were entirely black, except the upper part of the brow and around the ears, and the end of the chin; so that it might have been truly said of them that they were masquerading. There were some who had only one black stripe, like a wide ribbon, drawn from one ear to the other, across the eyes, and three little stripes on the cheeks. Their natural color is like that of those French beggars who are half-roasted in the Sun, and I have no doubt that the Savages would be very white if they were well covered. To describe how they were dressed would be difficult indeed. All the men, when it is a little warm, go naked, with the exception of a piece of skin which falls from just below the navel to the thighs. When it is cold, or probably in imitation of the Europeans, they cover themselves with furs of the Beaver, Bear, Fox, and other animals of the same kind, but so awkwardly, that it does not prevent the greater part of their bodies from being seen. I have seen some of them dressed in Bear skin, just as St. John the Baptist is painted. This fur, with the hair outside, was worn under one arm and over the other, hanging down to the knees. They were girdled around the body with a cord made of a dried intestine. Some are entirely dressed. They are like the Grecian Philosopher who would wear nothing that he had not made. It would not take a great many years to learn all their crafts. All go bareheaded, men and women; their hair, which is uniformly black, is long, greasy, and shiny, and is tied behind, except when they wear mourning. The women are decently covered; they wear skins fastened together on their shoulders with cords; these hang from the neck to the knees. They girdle themselves also with a cord, the rest of the body, the head, the arms and the legs being uncovered. Yet there are some who wear sleeves, stockings, and shoes, but in no other fashion than that which necessity has taught them. Now that they trade with the French for capes, blankets, cloths, and shirts, there are many who use them; but their shirts are as white and as greasy as dishcloths, for they never wash them. Furthermore, they have good figures, their bodies are well made, their limbs very well proportioned, and they are not so clumsy as I supposed them to be. They are fairly intelligent. They do not all talk at once, but one after the other, listening patiently. A Sagamore, or Captain, dining in our room one day, wished to say something; and, not finding an opportunity, because they were all talking at the same time, at last prayed the company to give him a little time to talk in his turn, and all alone, as he did.

Now, as in the wide stretches of territory in this country there are a great many wholly barbarous tribes, so they very often make war upon each other. When we arrived at Tadoussac the Savages were coming back from a war against the Hiroquois, and had taken nine of them; those of Quebec took six, and those of Tadoussac three. Monsieur Emery de Caen went to see the captives, hoping to save the life of the youngest one. I pleaded very earnestly for all three, but was told that great presents were necessary, and I had none. Having arrived at the cabins of the Savages, which are made of poles, clumsily covered with bark, the top left uncovered for the purpose of letting in light and of leaving an opening for the smoke to go out, we entered that of the war Captain, which was long and narrow. There were three fires in the middle, distant from each other five or six feet. Having entered, we sat down here and there on the ground, which was covered with little branches of fir, for they have no other seats. This done, they brought in the prisoners, who sat down beside each other. The eldest was over 60, the second about 30, and the third was a young boy from 15 to 16 years old. They all began to sing, in order to show that they were not at all afraid of death, however cruel it might be. Their singing seemed to me very disagreeable; the cadence always ended with reiterated aspirations, “oh! oh! oh! ah! ah! ah! hem! hem! hem!” etc. After singing for some time, they were made to dance, one after the other. The eldest one rose first, and began to walk through the room, entirely naked, except, as I have said, for a piece of fur which covered what nature has hidden. He stamped his feet upon the ground while marching, and sang continuously. This was all the dance. …  Monsieur de Caen asked when they would be killed. “To-morrow,” they answered. I went to see them again, and I found three wooden stakes erected where they were to be executed; but news came from Quebec that a treaty of peace was being negotiated with the Hiroquois, and it would perhaps be necessary to surrender the prisoners, and thus their death was delayed. There is no cruelty comparable to that which they practice on their enemies. …

In short, they make them suffer all that cruelty and the Devil can suggest. At last, as a final horror, they eat and devour them almost raw. If we were captured by the Hiroquois, perhaps we would be obliged to suffer this ordeal, inasmuch as we live with the Montagnards, their enemies. So enraged are they against every one who does them an injury, that they eat the lice and other vermin that they find upon themselves,—not because they like them, but only, they say, to avenge themselves and to eat those that eat them. …

But let no one be astonished at these acts of barbarism. Before the faith was received in Germany, Spain, or England, those nations were not more civilized. Mind is not lacking among the Savages of Canada, but education and instruction. They are already tired of their miseries, and stretch out their hands to us for help. It seems to me that the tribes which have stationary homes could be easily converted. … As to the strange and wandering tribes like those near Kebec, where we live, there will be more difficulty. The means of assisting them, in my opinion, is to build seminaries, and to take their children, who are very bright and amiable. The fathers will be taught through the children. Even now there are some among them who have begun to cultivate the soil and sow Indian corn, having become weary of their difficult and miserable way of living. … In truth, any one who knew their language could manage them as he pleased. Therefore I will apply myself, but I shall make very little progress this year, for reasons which I shall write in detail to your Reverence. But let us come back to the continuation of our voyage. …

The 3rd of July we left Tadoussac and went to cast anchor at the Basque scaffold, a place so called because the Basques go there to catch whales. As it was very calm and we were awaiting the tide, I went ashore. I thought I would be eaten up by the mosquitoes, which are little flies, troublesome in the extreme. The great forests here engender several species of them; there are common flies, gnats, fireflies, mosquitoes, large flies, and a number of others; the large flies sting furiously, and the pain from their sting, which is very piercing, lasts for a long time; there are but few of these large flies. The gnats are very small, hardly visible, but very perceptibly felt; the fireflies do no harm; at night they look like sparks of fire, casting a greater light than the glowworms that I have seen in France; taking one of these flies and holding it near a book, I could read very easily. As to the mosquitoes, they are disagreeable beyond description. No one could work, especially in the open air, during their reign, unless there were smoke near by to drive them away. Some people are compelled to go to bed after coming from the woods, they are so badly stung. I have seen men whose neck, cheeks, and whole face were so swollen that you could not see their eyes. They cover a man completely with blood when they attack him; they war upon some people more than others. Thus far they have treated me kindly enough; I do not swell when they sting me, which is the case with very few people unless they are accustomed to them. If the country were cleared and inhabited, these little beasts would not be found here, for already there are but few of them at the fort of Kebec, on account of the cutting down of the neighboring woods. …

At length, on the 5th of July, which was Monday,—two months and 18 days since the 18th of April, when we sailed,—we reached the much desired port. We cast anchor in front of the fort which the English held; we saw at the foot of this fort the poor settlement of Kebec all in ashes. The English, who came to this country to plunder and not to build up, not only burned a greater part of the detached buildings which Father Charles Lallement had had erected, but also all of that poor settlement of which nothing now is to be seen but the ruins of its stone walls. …  We celebrated the holy Mass in the oldest house in this country, the home of madame Hebert,13 who had settled near the fort during the lifetime of her husband. She has a fine family, and her daughter is married here to an honest Frenchman. God is blessing them every day; he has given them very beautiful children, their cattle are in fine condition, and their land produces good grain. This is the only French family settled in Canada. They were seeking some way of returning to France; but, having learned that the French were coming back to Kebec, they began to regain courage. When they saw our ships coming in with the white flags upon the masts, they knew not how to express their joy. But when they saw us in their home, to celebrate the holy Mass, which they had not heard for three years, good God! what joy! Tears fell from the eyes of nearly all, so great was their happiness. … The Englishman, having seen the Patents signed by the hand of his King, promised that he would go away within a week, and in fact, he began preparations for going, although with regret; but his people were all very glad of the return of the French, for they had been given only six pounds of bread, French weight, for an entire week. They told us that the Savages had helped them to live during the greater part of the time. On the following Tuesday, the 13th of July, they restored the fort to the hands of monsieur Emery de Caën, and monsieur du Plessis Bochart, his Lieutenant; and on the same day set sail in the two ships that they had anchored here. God knows if our French People were happy, seeing the dislodgment of these Anglicized Frenchmen, who have done so much injury to these poor countries, and who have prevented many Savages from being baptized, especially among the Hurons, where the Faith would now produce fruits worthy of the table of God, if these enemies of the truth, of real virtue and of their country, had not thrown themselves in the way. God be blessed for all; it is the duty of our French people to think of their preservation, and to put this country, in a short time, in such a condition that they will not have to depend upon supplies from France, which will be easy enough to do if they will only work. The English dislodged, we again entered our little home. …  Let us go back to the Savages, and say a few words more about them.

On the eve of our departure from Tadoussac, news came that the Hiroquois prisoners had been put to death at Kebec, and that those at Tadoussac must share the same fate the next day. I undertook to plead their cause, and promised to give what would be necessary to feed them during their passage to France, even to find some one to receive them as soon as they would reach there. I trusted to the charity of many good people who would not withhold alms to rescue the bodies of these poor creatures from the sufferings they endured, and their souls from eternal damnation. So I approached monsieur du Plessis, our Lieutenant, and explained the situation to him. Alms are given in France to restore men to liberty who are imprisoned for debt, and why should not something be done for these poor slaves of Satan? I promised him that we would give all that we could. He took up the subject, and in the evening presented it to those who ate at our Captain’s table. They answered that it would require large gifts to save their lives. Monsieur du Plessis said that they [the French] would give what they could, and that, besides, large gifts were unnecessary, as the three Hiroquois prisoners could be demanded in exchange for one Frenchman who had been killed a few years ago, or at least two could be demanded, and they would be surely given up. The interpreter who had talked to them assured me that it was an easy matter. Thereupon a thousand objections were urged, and one of the company cried out that the captives ought to die; that he would rather strangle them, that they were rascals, and that in talking to a Savage in Kebec, he [the Savage] had advised him to have them killed. If the death of these poor wretches brought profits to the fur trade which people come here to carry on, there would be some reason for this eagerness for their death; but neither their life nor their death could affect it. Oh, how important it is that those sent to this country should be carefully chosen! It is true that monsieur Emery de Ca&eauml;n did not approve of this cruelty. However, the wind being favorable to us on the following day, we spread our sails, and left these poor abandoned creatures there in the hands of their enemies, who disposed of two of them in a horrible manner, for, as we were told, they did not kill the youngest. …

Here is something that has consoled me: A certain Savage named la Nasse, who lived near our Fathers and cultivated the land, seeing that the English molested him, withdrew to the Islands, where he continued to cultivate the land; hearing that we had returned, he came to see us and has promised that he will come back and build his cabin near us, and that he will give us his little boy. This will be our first pupil; we shall teach him to read and write. This good man told us that the Savages do not act right; that he wished to be our brother, and live as we do. Madame Hebert told us that he has wished for our return for a long time. …

I have become teacher in Canada: the other day I had a little Savage on one side of me, and a little Negro or Moor on the other, to whom I taught their letters. After so many years of teaching, behold me at last returned to the А, В, C, with so great content and satisfaction that I would not exchange my two pupils for the finest audience in France. This little Savage is the one who will soon be left entirely with us. The little Negro was left by the English with this French family which is here. We have taken him to teach and baptize, but he does not yet understand the language well; therefore we shall wait some time yet. …

I calculated the other day how much earlier the Sun rises on your horizon than it does on ours, and I found that you have daylight a little over six hours earlier than we do. Our Sailors usually count 17 leagues and a half for a degree of the equinoctial and all other great circles, and otherwise reach the conclusion that there are from here to you 1000 leagues and over, which will consequently make 57 degrees 12 minutes of a great circle upon which we ought to calculate a direct route from here to you. Suppose then our latitude to be 46 and two-thirds degrees and that of Dieppe 49 and two-thirds; the computation made exactly by the solution of a triangle which might be made on the earth, between our two places and the pole, will give us 91 degrees and 38 minutes for the angle which is made at the pole by our two meridians, and consequently for the part of the equinoctial which is the measure of the said angle, and this is just the difference in our longitudes. Now, this number of degrees being reduced to time, counting one hour for every 15 degrees, we shall have six hours and six minutes earlier, for the time that the Sun rises with you than it does here; so that on Sunday when you count three o’clock in the morning, it is here still only nine o’clock on Saturday night. I am writing this about eight in the morning, and it is two in the afternoon where you are. …

All considered, this country here is very fine. As soon as we had entered into our little home, the 13th of July, we began to work and dig the earth, to sow purslane and turnips, and to plant lentils, and everything grew very well; a very short time afterwards we gathered our salad. But the misfortune was that our seeds were spoiled, I mean a part of them; namely, those sent to monsieur du Plessis: for those our Brother brought us grew very well. You would be astonished to see the great number of ears of rye which were found among our peas; they are longer and more grainy than the most beautiful I have ever seen in France. …

To-morrow, on the 25th of August, I am to baptize a little Hiroquois child who is to be taken to France, never to return to this country; he was given to a Frenchman, who made a present of him to monsieur de la Rade. Enough of this, we are in such a hurry that I have not observed any order in this narrative; Your Reverence will excuse me, if you please. I beseech you to give succor to these poor people who are in goodly numbers, the Canadians, Montagnards, Hurons and Algonquains, the Nation of the Bear,17 the Tobacco Nation,18 The Nation of the Sorcerers,19 and many others. I saw the Hurons arrive; in their 50 canoes and more, they made a very fine sight upon the river. They are large, well-made men, and are to be pitied because they do not know the Author of the life they enjoy, and have never heard of him who gave his life and shed his blood for them.

I expected to end this little narrative on the 24th of August, but it will not be until after the baptism of this little child. I have just baptized him. Monsieur Emery de Caën is his Godfather; madame Coullart, daughter of madame Hebert, his Godmother.

His name is Louys and he was baptized on saint Louys’s day. This poor little one, who is only about four years old, cried all the time before his baptism, and ran away from us; I could not hold him. As soon as I began the ceremony, he did not say a word; he looked at me attentively and did everything that I would have him do. I believed that he was an Hiroquois, but I have learned that he belongs to the fire Nation; his Father and his Mother and he were taken in war by the Algonquains, who burned the parents and gave the child to the French. Louys, formerly Amantacha, came to see us and promised that he would come back next year, to re- turn with Father Brebeuf to his country; he is rather intelligent, and showed me that he had a correct conception of God. I could not tell you how cunning this Nation is. I recommend myself a thousand times to the holy sacrifices of your Reverence and to the prayers of your whole Province.

Of Your Reverence,

The very humble and obedient servant in God,

Paul Le Jeune.

 

 

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Source: Reuben Gold Thwaites, ed. Travels and Explorations of the Jesuit Missionaries in New France: 1610–1791, vol. 5. Cleveland: Burrows Brothers, 1897.