Early Canadian History

As much as I enjoy US history, I think early Canadian history is much more fun. We Americans ignore our neighbors to the north, but any history buff or bookworm willing to dive into Canada's origins will be richly rewarded. Early Canadian history - the story of New France - has a romantic/fantastical feel to it . Certain historical episodes have a Tolkienish or Game of Thrones vibe. Here are a few of my favorite stories.

Marguerite and The Isle of Demons

It wasn't long after Columbus's voyages that European fishermen discovered the Grand Banks off Newfoundland. Rumors soon began circulating among sailors about a haunted island near the Strait of Belle Isle called the Isle of Demons. In 1542, Jean Francois de la Roque, Sieur de Roberval, Lieutenant General of Canada, sailed for the Gulf of St. Lawrence for exploration and settlement. On board was Roberval's niece Marguerite. When Roberval discovered a young lad aboard was in love with his niece, the scandalized Roberval marooned her and her nurse on the Isle of Demons. Marguerite's lover threw himself overboard and swam to shore to join them. The story goes that the three outcasts were beset day and night by demons. They persevered through prayer and Marguerite even bore a child. Eventually, Marguerite's lover, baby and nurse died, leaving Marguerite to battle the demons and shoot the occasional polar bear alone. After 2.5 years, Marguerite was spotted by a fishing vessel and she made her way back to France where her story was preserved.

"A Bitch Named Pilot"

When the island of Montreal (did you know it was an island?) was founded as a mission in 1642, it was the most dangerous place in Canada due to its close proximity to the Iroquois, who were hell-bent on destroying the French and their Native Allies. Montreal colonists took their lives into their hands every time they ventured outside the walls. Iroquois warriors would sometimes lie in wait for days in order to pick off a straggler. But the colonists' danger lessened when they started receiving dogs from France. One dog in particular, "a bitch named Pilot," became a proficient scout. Upon smelling Iroquois intruders, she would bark furiously and run to the fort, giving settlers a chance to get to safety. Pilot had a litter of puppies with whom she would patrol the woods.

Side note: A few years ago, we adopted a pit-bull/lab mix and named her Pilot. Instead of protecting us from Iroquois warriors, our Pilot started biting everything that moved, including our son's friends doing somersaults on our living room carpet. Unfortunately we had to get rid of our Pilot. May she rest in peace.

Jesuit Martyrs

The most inspirational stories from New France are the Jesuit Martyrs. The Jesuits aspired to convert the Native tribes to Christianity. Not having much luck with the wandering tribes of lower Quebec, they eventually decided to live among the stationary tribes of the West. So they established multiple missions in Huronia between Lake Huron and Lake Simcoe. This region is one of my favorite spots on earth. Every couple years I try to make a pilgrimage of sorts to Sainte Marie Among the Hurons near Midland, Ontario. (Anyone up for a 4 hour drive up there this summer?)

Many of the Jesuits died for their faith and love of the Huron. One story will suffice here. Father Isaac Jogues and his companions were waylaid on the St. Lawrence River by a band of Mohawks in 1642. Jogues was taken captive to the Mohawk towns where he was forced to witness the torture of his friends. He himself was tortured in a variety of ways, including having his thumb cut off with a clamshell. Despite expecting a tomahawk to the head everyday, Jogues wandered around, attempting to convert and baptize his persecutors. Eventually, the Dutch at what is now Albany offered to help Jogues escape. His response: "Let me pray about it." Jogues acquiesced, hiding for six weeks in Albany before being smuggled down the Hudson to New York. He made his way back to France. Since priests with deformities were barred from saying Mass, the Pope granted Jogues a dispensation. Jogues went back to Canada where he was chosen to establish a mission among his former captors. The Mohawks killed him in 1646.

Charles La Tour and Madame D'Aunay

One of the strangest stories in New France took place during the 1650s in Acadia, what is now Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. A bitter feud existed between Charles La Tour and Charles D'Aulnay, both of whom had competing claims to the region. La Tour ensconced himself at Saint John, New Brunswick while his adversary settled down across the Bay of Fundy in the beautiful Annapolis Basin. While La Tour was away seeking aid in Boston, D'Aulnay attacked Fort Saint John. La Tour's wife led the admirable defense but succumbed to D'Aulnay's forces. Madame La Tour was forced to watch the execution of her men and she herself was kept a prisoner until she died. Five years later, D'Aulnay drowned when his canoe upset in Annapolis Basin. His desperate widow, Madame D'Aunlay, beset with enemies, ended up marrying Charles La Tour, the foe of her late husband.

Flight from Onondaga

During a brief interlude of peace, the Iroquois asked the French to establish a mission among them. For a site the Jesuits chose a hill overlooking Onondaga Lake in Central New York. The Jesuits weren't there long before they began to hear whispers that their deaths had been decreed in secret councils. So they concocted "one of the most unusual escapes in history." While they made preparations for a quick getaway, the Jesuits invited the Iroquois to a "Medicine Feast." It was customary at these feasts for the guests to stuff themselves until they could eat no more. The Jesuits laid an extravagant spread and soon the Iroquois entered a tryptophan coma. While the Iroquois "sat helpless as a conventicle of gorged turkey-buzzards," the French silently withdrew all the way to Quebec.

Adam Dollard's Last Stand

New France had its own version of Thermopylae in 1660 when word reached Montreal that a united force of Iroquois were making their way down the Ottawa River to lay waste to the French settlements. Figuring the best defense was a good offense, a young officer named Adam Dollard took 17 Frenchmen up the Ottawa to waylay the Iroquois on their descent. Dollard took possession of an abandoned Algonquin stockade beside some rapids and waited for the onslaught. For 5 days, the 17 Frenchmen and 6 Native allies battled 800 Iroquois. When defeat was inevitable, Dollard tossed a handmade grenade out of the fort, only to have it fall back in. The French and Native allies were defeated but their gamble worked: they had held the gap long enough. The Iroquois returned home after their costly victory and Montreal was saved.

LaSalle and Tonti the "Iron Hand"

I am fascinated by the life and tragedies of Robert Cavelier de LaSalle in part because he started his explorations a mile from us at the head of Irondequoit Bay. A man of immense imagination, LaSalle resolved to claim the West for France and find the Northwest Passage to China. He discovered the Ohio River, established a French presence in Illinois, and in 1682, descended the Mississippi to its mouth, claiming Louisiana for France. No character in the history of New France had as many enemies, misfortunes or plain bad luck. At one point to save all his western accomplishments, LaSalle treked 1,000 miles in 65 days to get supplies. Later when he was tasked with colonizing the mouth of the Mississippi, LaSalle accidentally overshot the River by 400 miles, disembarking his colonists in Texas. On his way to the Mississippi, which he knew he had to ascend for succour, LaSalle was assassinated by disgruntled followers.

LaSalle's partner, Henri de Tonti, was a bad-ass Italian soldier whose hand had been blown off by a grenade in the Sicilian Wars. "Knowing that he could not expect medical aid at once, the gallant young officer cut away the jagged flesh with a knife and kept on fighting." The Native tribes of the Illinois held "the Iron Hand" in reverence, deservedly so since Tonti fought to hold the line against Iroquois encroachment in the West. Tonti took part in Denonville's 1687 attack of Seneca towns - again miles from our house.

Madeleine de Vercheres

As the 18th century dawned, the New England colonies became more of a threat to New France than the Iroquois. But in 1692, the French settlements along the St. Lawrence were still very much in danger. When a band of Iroqouis attacked Fort Vercheres, a 14-year old girl named Madeleine took charge of the defense. "To arms!," she cried as she ran for the gate. Once inside the fort, she prevented a miserable coward from blowing up the place. "Let us fight to the death," she told everyone. Instilling courage to the besieged settlers, she ensured the Iroquois outside had the impression a sizeable garrison held the fort. The Iroquois, reluctant to attack a well-fortified place, gave up the siege. When reinforcements from Montreal arrived, Madeleine greeted the lieutenant, "Monsieur, I surrender to you my arms."


Outside of these particular historical episodes, there are two additional reasons I love French Canadian history. One is that this history is so well written. My favorite author and historian, Francis Parkman, made it his life work to chronicle the story of New France. Parkman, growing up in New England, heard as a child the fireside stories of the Old French War - how his ancestors had battled the French and Indians for control of the Continent. Knowing he couldn't write about these rugged wilderness heroes without knowing wilderness life, he took several rough excursions into the wilds as a young man, stretching his frail constitution. Though these trips permanently weakened his body and eyes, they allowed him to describe the terrain vividly in his narratives. As Mason Wade says in his biography of Parkman, "the reader is translated into an an enthralling new world, whose history is a great drama played out by a heroic company." The result is an unparalleled Tolkien-like American epic which is just as readable today as it was in 1892.

The other reason I admire Canadian history is that the French had a fundamentally different relationship with the Native tribes than the US did. From the very beginning of settlement in Nova Scotia and the St. Lawrence Valley, Samuel Champlain and his associates "did not try to conquer the Indians and compel them to work, as in New Spain. They did not abuse them as in Virginia, or drive them away as in New England." Instead, as David Hackett Fischer states, "they formed a mutual respect for each other's vital interests, and built a relationship of trust that endured for many years...Something of its spirit has endured in Canada between Europeans and Indians even to our own time." Even the name Canada uses today to address its Native tribes - First Nations - speaks volumes about their respect for those that were here before us.