dumbfounded, took time to reflect on what was happening to him. Barely freed from his military obligations, he was being asked to cross the Atlantic for the first time, on behalf of a country he had come to appreciate during the last weeks. The setting would be the Caribbean: he had always hoped to see such places of conquest for himself, the most intoxicating imaginable. He pictured himself over there. He would keep a journal to inform the King of each expedition and its outcome. He would discuss in detail the geographical particularities of the coasts and draw precise navigational maps. Decidedly, for Champlain, who dreamed of something other than planting cabbage in his native land, the offer was enticing.
Reining in his emotion before the start of such an adventure, he kept his expression solemn, befitting the man he had become, the officer he had been, and the experienced navigator he promised he soon would be.
“It seems a reasonable prospect,” he conceded.
Soon after this conversation, it was discovered that Puerto Rico had indeed fallen into English hands. From then on, mobilization of troops was halted. The fleet remained in port and the St. Julien went nowhere. With regret, Champlain saw the string of Caribbean islands disappear.
Not long after, a Spanish admiral named Francisco Coloma took note of the uncle's ship: the vessel seemed rapid, trustworthy, and likely to join the fleet that cast off every year and headed for the West Indies. Don Coloma called upon Captain Provençal, who said he would be happy to accompany the mission. In the days before setting sail, a new difficulty arose: the uncle was called away on an urgent matter. How would that affect his nephew's role in the venture? Without his sailmaster, Samuel was not sure he would be allowed to leave.
“Providence seems to be holding me back!” Champlain bemoaned, nervously pacing up and down Guillaume Hallène's garden.
“Let me convince Don Coloma that you'd be an asset to me!” the captain reassured him.
His powers of persuasion were successful. In February 1599, Champlain departed with the admiral's fleet. Two months later, the islands were in sight. Passing one island after another, they reached San Juan, the gateway to Puerto Rico. The conquering English were no longer there; yellow fever, spreading wildly, had forced them to flee. Beforehand, they had burned houses and made off with a precious booty of leather, sugar, ginger, and silver. Pleased nonetheless by this outcome, the Spanish remained in Puerto Rico for a month.
Champlain, already at work on reporting his mission, drew geographical maps and sketched tropical plants and fruit trees. He made observations on the earth's fertility and the appearance of the ports. As befitting a Frenchman, he also took inventory of what he ate: unusually large lemons, delicious papayas, heart-shaped fruit that tasted like sweet cream. In Puerto Rico he drew one of the local reptiles, labelled the drawing a chameleon, and addéd it to his thorough explanations. These creatures disconcerted him. He had been told that they lived simply off the air they breathed, which he doubted.
Later, Champlain stopped off at other islands, such as Santo Domingo, today the territory of the Dominican Republic and Haiti, and the Cayman Islands. From time to time, they had to defend themselves against pirates. The voyage continued on to Mexico.
Mexico… This country of apparently inexhaustible riches had long fascinated Champlain. However, his stay in the Aztec homeland showed him both the best and worst of it.
First the marvel of discovery! He wrote in his journal that no one could imagine a country more beautiful than this kingdom of New Spain. The forests there were the most majestic imaginable and featured a remarkable variety of birds. The uniformly gentle and green countryside was dotted with flocks of animals that fed year round on cool grass in this Eden-like climate, watered just enough by nighttime dew. The fruit was beautiful, luscious, abundant.
All this filled Champlain with a deep sense of contentment. The experience culminated with the sight of Mexico City. He raved that it was superbly filled with beautiful temples, palaces, and magnificent houses! The main roads were well planned and bordered with luxurious shops. As for the population of Mexico City, Champlain estimated that about fifteen thousand Spaniards and almost a hundred thousand native people lived there, along with numerous black slaves brought over from Africa.
However, his fascination was mingled with shame: here he was associated with a colonial power that, following the conquest, had ruled as a cruel invader. Becoming more familiar with Mexico, he realized that behind the facade of great homes and gardens of the rich lay the fear that consumed the indigenous communities. For them, Spain's intrusion into their land and mountains had ushered in death and slavery.
“The stories of the people who survived such barbarity is pitiful. Some of the methods used fill me with disgust,” Samuel de Champlain declared angrily while discussing the subject with one of the high-ranking officers of the Spanish squadron. “I have seen them of late, harshly forced to adopt a religion not their own.”
“They will grow accustomed to it, Master Champlain,” the other replied haughtily. “Spain is at home in this country.”
“They are converting, you're right. And it saddens them. I see it in their eyes. Is that the will of the Church?”
Native people reduced to this condition had told him that they never missed mass. Not even once. For if they did, they would be beaten or killed. Fervent Catholic that he was, Champlain was convinced, like all the missionaries working in this country, that only one faith existed. But the French visitor could not help but think that there existed more humane methods of illuminating the way for ignorant souls.
The stay in Mexico drew to a close. Champlain remained there a month. On one of the last nights, when he couldn't sleep, he strolled through a forest. From time to time, the moon emerged from a cover of cloud and he discerned what he thought were palms, cedars, laurels, and wild guava trees. Suddenly, in total darkness, he stared in fascination at a mysterious phenomenon.
Was the sailor hallucinating or was he truly seeing hundreds of tiny, flickering lights? Surprised, he watched. The sight continued, silently.
Thoroughly intrigued, the nocturnal stroller was treated, for the first time, to a dance of fireflies.
There is a kind of little animal, as large as a beetle; they fly at night, and light up the air so brightly that they resemble small candles. If a man had three or four of these little creatures, no bigger than hazelnuts, he could read at night just as well as with a candle.
3 Ethnographer and Cartographer in the Land of the Great Sagamo
They have a form of marriage: when a girl reaches the age of fourteen or fifteen, she has several suitors and friends, and keeps company with whom she pleases. After about five or six years, she takes the one she fancies for her husband, and they will live together until the end of their lives, unless, after having been together for a time, they still have no children. Then the man can be released from the marriage and take another wife, saying that his was worthless.
After Mexico, Champlain lingered for four months in Cuba, before returning to France. His trip had lasted two years in all. Meanwhile, the proud Captain Provençal, to whom Samuel was so attached, had suddenly become a sick, old man, now bedridden, with only a few days left to live. Saddened, Champlain, more of a son than a nephew, kept vigil at his bedside.
Pierre de Chauvin de Thonnetuit, to whom Henri IV granted the fur trade monopoly, settled in Tadoussac in 1604. Illustration by Samuel de Champlain published in The Voyages of the Sieur de Champlain of Saintonge, Captain