Crusaders of New France | Page 6

Cipango or
Cathay. Yet the spirit of exploration had been awakened. Carrier's
recital of his voyage had aroused the interest of both the King and his
people, so that the navigator's request for better equipment to make
another voyage was readily granted. On May 19, 1535, Cartier once
more set forth from St. Malo, this time with three vessels and with a
royal patent, empowering him to take possession of new lands in his
sovereign's name. With Cartier on this voyage there were over one
hundred men, of whom the majority were hardened Malouins, veterans
of the sea. How he found accommodation for all of them, with supplies
and provisions, in three small vessels whose total burden was only two
hundred and twenty tons, is not least among the mysteries of this
remarkable voyage.[1]
[Footnote 1: The shipbuilders old measure for determining tonnage was
to multiply the length of a vessel minus three-quarters of the beam by
the beam, then to multiply the product by one-half the beam, then to
divide this final product by 94. The resulting quotient was the tonnage.
On this basis Cartier's three ships were 67 feet length by 23 feet beam,
57 feet length by 17 feet beam, and 48 feet length by 17 feet beam,
respectively.]
The trip across the ocean was boisterous, and the clumsy caravels had a
hard time breasting the waves. The ships were soon separated by
alternate storms and fog so that all three did not meet at their appointed
rendezvous in the Straits of Belle Isle until the last week in July. Then
moving westward along the north, shore of the Gulf, they passed
Anticosti, crossed to the Gaspé shore, circled back as far as the Mingan
islands, and then resumed a westward course up the great river. As the
vessels stemmed the current but slowly, it was well into September
when they cast anchor before the Indian village of Stadacona which
occupied the present site of Lower Quebec.
Since it was now too late in the season to think of returning at once to

France, Cartier decided to spend the winter at this point. Two of the
ships were therefore drawn into the mouth of a brook which entered the
river just below the village, while the Frenchmen established
acquaintance with the savages and made preparations for a trip farther
up the river in the smallest vessel. Using as interpreters two young
Indians whom he had captured in the Gaspé region during his first
voyage in the preceding year, Cartier was able to learn from the Indians
at Stadacona that there was another settlement of importance at
Hochelaga, now Montreal. The navigator decided to use the remaining
days of autumn in a visit to this settlement, although the Stadacona
Indians strenuously objected, declaring that there were all manner of
dangers and difficulties in the way. With his smallest vessel and about
half of his men, Cartier, however, made his way up the river during the
last fortnight in September.
Near the point where the largest of the St. Lawrence rapids bars the
river gateway to the west the Frenchman found Hochelaga nestling
between the mountain and the shore, in the midst of "goodly and large
fields full of corn such as the country yieldeth." The Indian village,
which consisted of about fifty houses, was encircled by three courses of
palisades, one within the other. The natives received their visitors with
great cordiality, and after a liberal distribution of trinkets the French
learned from them some vague snatches of information about the rivers
and great lakes which lay to the westward "where a man might travel
on the face of the waters for many moons in the same direction." But as
winter was near Cartier found it necessary to hurry back to Stadacona,
where the remaining members of his expedition had built a small fort or
habitation during his absence.
Everything was made ready for the long season of cold and snow, but
the winter came on with unusual severity. The neighboring Indians
grew so hostile that the French hardly dared to venture from their
narrow quarters. Supplies ran low, and to make matters worse the
pestilence of scurvy came upon the camp. In February almost the entire
company was stricken down and nearly one quarter of them had died
before the emaciated survivors learned from the Indians that the bark of
a white spruce tree boiled in water would afford a cure. The Frenchmen

dosed themselves with the Indian remedy, using a whole tree in less
than a week, but with such revivifying results that Cartier hailed the
discovery as a genuine miracle. When spring appeared, the remnant of
the company, now restored to health and vigor, gladly began their
preparations for a return to France. There was no ardor