Voyages of Samuel de Champlain, vol 1 | Page 4

up into salt basins, generally in
the form of parallelograms, excavated at different depths, the earth and
rubbish scooped out and thrown on the sides, forming a platform or
path leading from basin to basin, the whole presenting to the eye the
appearance of a vast chess-board. The argillaceous earth at the bottom
of the pans was made hard to prevent the escape of the water by
percolation. This was done in the larger ones by leading horses over the
surface, until, says an old chronicler, the basins "would hold water as if
they were brass." The water was introduced from the sea, through
sluices and sieves of pierced planks, passing over broad surfaces in
shallow currents, furnishing an opportunity for evaporation from the
moment it left the ocean until it found its way into the numerous
salt-basins covering the whole expanse of the marshy plains. The water
once in the basins, the process of evaporation was carried on by the sun
and the wind, assisted by the workmen, who agitated the water to

hasten the process. The first formation of salt was on the surface,
having a white, creamy appearance, exhaling an agreeable perfume,
resembling that of violets. This was the finest and most delicate salt,
while that precipitated, or falling to the bottom of the basin, was of a
darker hue.
When the crystallization was completed, the salt was gathered up,
drained, and piled in conical heaps on the platforms or paths along the
sides of the basins. At the height of the season, which began in May
and ended in September, when the whole marsh region was covered
with countless white cones of salt, it presented an interesting picture,
not unlike the tented camp of a vast army.
The salt was carried from the marshes on pack-horses, equipped each
with a white canvas bag, led by boys either to the quay, where large
vessels were lying, or to small barques which could be brought at high
tide, by natural or artificial inlets, into the very heart of the
marsh-fields.
When the period for removing the salt came, no time was to be lost, as
a sudden fall of rain might destroy in an hour the products of a month.
A small quantity only could be transported at a time, and consequently
great numbers of animals were employed, which were made to hasten
over the sinuous and angulated paths at their highest speed. On
reaching the ships, the burden was taken by men stationed for the
purpose, the boys mounted in haste, and galloped back for another.
The scene presented in the labyrinth of an extensive salt-marsh was
lively and entertaining. The picturesque dress of the workmen, with
their clean white frocks and linen tights; the horses in great numbers
mantled in their showy salt-bags, winding their way on the narrow
platforms, moving in all directions, turning now to the right hand and
now to the left, doubling almost numberless angles, here advancing and
again retreating, often going two leagues to make the distance of one,
maintaining order in apparent confusion, altogether presented to the
distant observer the aspect of a grand equestrian masquerade.
The extent of the works and the labor and capital invested in them were

doubtless large for that period. A contemporary of Champlain informs
us that the wood employed in the construction of the works, in the form
of gigantic sluices, bridges, beam-partitions, and sieves, was so vast in
quantity that, if it were destroyed, the forests of Guienne would not
suffice to replace it. He also adds that no one who had seen the salt
works of Saintonge would estimate the expense of forming them less
than that of building the city of Paris itself.
The port of Brouage was the busy mart from which the salt of
Saintonge was distributed not only along the coast of France, but in
London and Antwerp, and we know not what other markets on the
continent of Europe. [9]
The early years of Champlain were of necessity intimately associated
with the stirring scenes thus presented in this prosperous little seaport.
As we know that he was a careful observer, endowed by nature with an
active temperament and an unusual degree of practical sense we are
sure that no event escaped his attention, and that no mystery was
permitted to go unsolved. The military and commercial enterprise of
the place brought him into daily contact with men of the highest
character in their departments. The salt-factors of Brouage were
persons of experience and activity, who knew their business, its
methods, and the markets at home and abroad. The fortress was
commanded by distinguished officers of the French army, and was a
rendezvous of the young nobility; like other similar places, a
training-school for military command. In this association, whether