The Incredible Escape. The Adventures of Radisson 3 Page 4

  “What a relief!” he exclaimed. “I was so worried! Whatever happened to you, for the love of God?”

  “Nothing serious, Father. Ononta was ill and slowed us down. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

  Mahatari, Ononta, and their son were waiting in silence in the canoe on the shore. Radisson went back to them to unload the bags. He carried his trading goods himself, giving the other parcels to the men from the fort. Then he thanked Ononta and Mahatari for their help and asked where they lived so that he could visit them.

  “In the village of Onondaga, less than a day from here,” Mahatari replied. “You’ll always be welcome in our home. It’s your home, too: the home of the Bear clan. Farewell, Orinha.”

  Their canoe moved out to meet Sorense and Tehagonra’s in the middle of the river. They left for their village.

  Father Ragueneau showed Radisson around the impressive fort. The fifty Frenchmen from the first expedition had built an impenetrable fortress in just a few months. A fifteen-foot-high palisade made out of broad tree trunks surrounded the buildings. The huge area inside that separated the enclosure from the homes was for the time being used only to farm pigs, sheltered as it was from thieves and wild animals, but dozens of people would be able to camp there. There would also be lots of room to store furs. Ladders led up to a parapet that ran along the enclosure, allowing the French to keep a watchful eye on the surrounding area and defend the fort if attacked. A projecting bastion reinforced each of the four corners. From there, the French would be able to shoot down at any attackers seeking shelter at the foot of the palisade or trying to set fire to it. Everything had been well thought out.

  At the centre of the fort, two large wooden buildings were used for housing. The largest housed most of the men, and it was there that Radisson slept. The other building was used by the Jesuits and Commander Zacharie Dupuys. The kitchens, refectory, and goods warehouse were also there. In two separate cabins, a carpenter’s workshop and a smithy rounded out the facilities. A small stone powder magazine, half buried in the ground and covered with a double roof, had been built in one corner.

  Around the fort, all trees and shrubbery had been cut to the ground for two hundred paces to rule out the possibility of ambush. A few men had roughly ploughed the ground to sow wheat there. But the harvest was mediocre. The large vegetable garden promised better results. It was also here, outside the fort, that the French kept most of the pigs and all their chickens protected by a sturdy enclosure.

  Of the seven Jesuit missionaries in Iroquois country, only Father Ragueneau and Father Le Moyne were currently living in the fort. The others had left on missions to various Onondaga villages. Most able-bodied men were busy putting the finishing touches to the French settlement; a severe fever epidemic had struck that summer and many were still getting back on their feet. The interpreter Guillaume Couture had decided to return to the colony with the weakest men, who had become a burden on everyone. Father Chaumonot was to go with them. Couture was currently at Onondaga with Commander Dupuys, where they had taken the Huron women.

  Chapter 3

  HARMONY

  Since his arrival, Father Ragueneau had had many a conversation with his friend Simon Le Moyne about the mission. Father Frémin would go from village to village preaching the good news with Father Le Mercier, who had even risked a visit to the neighbouring Cayuga nation. Father Ménard and Father Dablon had managed to settle permanently in two villages where there were chapels. In comparison, Ragueneau was very disappointed with how they had been more or less excluded from Onondaga, the nation’s main village. Father Le Moyne, whose domain it was, had close friends there and regularly went to preach. But he hadn’t wanted to confront his allies when he was refused permission to settle there permanently and build a chapel in the village. Given the poor impression the French had made when they arrived in force the previous year, he had decided it was best to be patient and avoid further offending the Iroquois.

  Ragueneau did not blame his friend. He decided, however, that this conciliatory attitude had had its day. He was sure that the Jesuits had to impose themselves at the very heart of the nation, among the leading chiefs, if results were to match the effort they had put into the mission.

  To finalize their strategy, he called a meeting with Father Le Moyne, Commander Dupuys, and Radisson.

  “Did they fully understand your message?” was the first question he asked Commander Dupuys. “After they massacred the Hurons who came with me, you were better placed than I to make sure they know there will be serious consequences if they mistreat the Huron women.”

  “I was firm,” Dupuys replied. “Monsieur Couture told them we were keeping a close eye on them and that the French would be angry if they didn’t keep their word. Fear not, Father. I made sure we will have their respect. I’m well used to it.”

  Although Dupuys was a military man, Radisson doubted his warning would have the desired effect. The commander spoke only a few words of Iroquois and didn’t seem to have learned their rules of diplomacy. With his broad broad-feathered feathered hat and the sword he always carried around his waist, and his French-style clothes and large boots that were more fashionable than practical in this country, Radisson feared the Iroquois regarded him more as a scarecrow than a real threat.

  “Now that our fort is finished,” the commander added, “the Iroquois will have more respect for us. I will personally put more pressure on them, and leave them in no doubt that our weapons are superior. But you are right: the time has come for us to settle in Onondaga.”

  Radisson agreed with him on this point. It was true that the fort must have been intimidating for the Onondaga. Otherwise, the French would have been allowed to build it from the start.

  “The Hurons’ arrival has provided us with a fine pretext,” added Ragueneau. “They are Christians and require religious guidance. Guidance that we will be able to provide if we are on site. We must seize this opportunity. They wanted the Hurons, and now they have them. Now we must show them what good Christians the women are, with priests to help them every day. What do you think, Simon?”

  Father Le Moyne gave an unenthusiastic nod. Like Radisson, he preferred keeping a conciliatory attitude. But the chapel would have to be built one day, and now seemed like a good opportunity.

  “Very well, Paul. We should try our luck.”

  Radisson let them discuss among themselves how best to present their plan to the Iroquois. Something else was on his mind. Before leaving, Guillaume Couture had told him he was beginning to question the attitude of many of the Iroquois. A great number of them were no more than tolerating the French, he said. They weren’t really behind the alliance. Now that Couture had left with Father Chaumonot and the handful of sick men, Radisson was mulling over the consequences.

  “It’s all well and good having an impenetrable fort,” he said, when everyone seemed to have had their say on the chapel. “But with no food reserves, the Iroquois will wear us down in the end. They can just let us die of hunger. We’ll need to stock up for the winter, otherwise they’ll have the upper hand.”

  Commander Dupuys, who had never before seriously considered the possibility of a long siege, was a little irked by Radisson’s intervention. He had so little experience of the Iroquois’ ambushes—their favourite tactic—that he had never reckoned on not being able to leave the fort to hunt and fish. But the provisions brought from Trois-Rivières, even along with the vegetables from the garden and the animals bred in the fort, wouldn’t see them through the winter, leaving them well and truly vulnerable.

  “Our food reserves are limited,” he admitted.

  “Until now,” explained Father Le Moyne, “the Iroquois have been reluctant to share their best hunting grounds with us. Fishing is all we have. Not to mention the fact that all our energy has gone into building the fort...”

  “Then we must get started right away,” Radisson insisted. Otherwise the Iroquois will be calling the shots, not us.”

  “G
ood point,” said Ragueneau. “Take as many men as you need and make a start. Get everyone organized. We have plenty of time to make up for this. I’m counting on you, Radisson.”

  ***

  Father Le Moyne insisted on coming with Ragueneau and Radisson on their first visit to Onondaga. He was going to introduce them to Grand Chief Awenissera, his best friend and a staunch ally of the French. He would stay out of discussions, however. Ragueneau would lead and Father Le Moyne could intervene if his friend’s requests did not go down well.

  Out on the river that led to Onondaga, Ragueneau and Radisson discovered a magnificent land. Great old oak, elm, and walnut trees shaded the scattered undergrowth. Hazelnut trees were all around. Right by the village, vast, well-tended fields of corn, beans, and squash promised a bountiful harvest. The village itself was sizeable and surrounded by a double palisade. It reminded Radisson of the biggest Erie villages he had seen. From the front of the canoe, Father Le Moyne waved at the Iroquois looking on as they approached the village. Two of them rushed inside the enclosure to let their chiefs know a French canoe was on its way.

  As Father Le Moyne and his companions stepped out of the canoe, Awenissera came to greet them with a few men and women dressed in leather and cloth. The old chief was still steady on his feet, although he moved slowly. The French waited for him to reach them and greeted him respectfully.

  “Welcome home,” Awenissera answered in Iroquois.

  His wrinkled face was aglow with heartfelt joy. Father Le Moyne introduced the newcomers.

  “My friend Father Ragueneau, who has come to lend a hand, and Radisson, who has lived with the Mohawks.”

  “I hope our brothers treated you well,” Awenissera said, knowing the hatred the Mohawks had for the French.

  “They adopted me,” Radisson replied. “I lived among them as a brother.”

  “I am glad of it.”

  In the clear blue sky, the September sun was still welcome. Awenissera led the visitors to the longhouse he lived in at the centre of the village. The thirty or so Iroquois who surrounded them all seemed happy to see them.

  Radisson was struck by just how dense the village was. Twenty-odd longhouses stood side by side, taking up all available space inside the perimeter. If these longhouses held as many people as those in the Mohawk village where Radisson had lived, he reckoned, Onondaga’s population was well over one thousand, maybe even two thousand. Trois-Rivières, Québec, and Montréal didn’t have as many inhabitants. Sheaves of corn hung from the birch-bark walls, drying in the sun, but the bulk of the crop was still out in the fields.

  Walking into the longhouse belonging to the Wolf clan, Radisson felt a wave of emotion wash over him. It was almost identical to the longhouse he had lived in. It was dark, quiet, and well equipped. The high roof got lost in the darkness, cluttered with goods and supplies. Triple bunk beds ran along the inclined walls on each side of the house. Ten fires were arranged in the middle of the central area, equal distance from each other and well aligned. Memories flooded Radisson’s mind. He was happy and unhappy at once. Awenissera invited them to sit on the ground, around a fire in a stone circle.

  Ragueneau began to speak. He announced that he wished to settle permanently in the village to take care of the Christian Hurons. The French also wanted a large amount of corn; they would trade French goods in return. Awenissera took a long while to react. He called on two men and an old woman to join them. Ragueneau repeated his request to them. The four Iroquois quickly agreed that this was too important an issue for the Wolf clan to deal with alone. Such decisions concerned the whole community. Awenissera told the Jesuit he would have to put his petitions before the village grand council, which he would convene the following day. In the meantime, he invited the guests to stay in his home.

  The house was so quiet and Awenissera’s welcome so warm that it reminded Radisson of the best days of his life in Iroquois country. After eating from a wooden bowl with no eating utensils, he was happy to lie down on the fur-covered bed he had been given for the night, lulled to sleep by murmured conversations from around the neighbouring fires. Everything was so peaceful here. Radisson slept as soundly as he did with his family in Trois-Rivières.

  The next day, the village grand council met in a longhouse set aside for this very purpose. The central fire that burned there permanently symbolized the ties that had bound all Iroquois for generations. The councils of the Confederacy of the Five Nations, as well as councils involving all representatives of the Onondaga nation and those concerning the entire Onondaga village, were held here. It was an honour for the Frenchmen to be heard in such sacred surroundings.

  Fifty men and women were gathered opposite Awenissera, Father Le Moyne, Ragueneau, and Radisson. Vincent Prudhomme, the young Frenchman who had arrived the previous year and had come with them, joined the Iroquois. He had quickly adapted to the customs of the country and already spoke fluent Iroquois. The elderly women taking part in the council were the clan mothers. The men were experienced war and peace chiefs. Radisson recognized Andoura among them, who had come to Trois-Rivières the previous winter. He was sitting in the front row, but never looked in Radisson’s direction and Radisson had no way of indicating he wanted to talk to him. Radisson could see that he had lost a lot of weight.

  The night before, the French had agreed that Ragueneau would first speak about religion, without an interpreter. Radisson would then talk about food supplies.

  Awenissera began the discussions in his booming voice.

  “I am happy to welcome among us a new Blackrobe who has come to help my friend Simon teach us more about the Great Spirit of the French. Those who have come with him are also welcome. You say this Great Spirit is all powerful, and it is our sincere desire to please him in order that we might benefit from his power. Our hearts and ears are open to your teaching. And we are gathered here today to listen to your request on this matter.

  “Before it is your turn to speak, I want you to know that we share your pain and wish to help you heal your wound. The Hurons travelling with you were dear to your heart, we know. We are sorry they had to be killed, but I remind you that this decision is none of your concern. The conflict between the Huron and Iroquois nations existed long before the French settled on our shores. It is not for you to judge our actions. We did what was right in order to calm our spirits, who were angry with the Hurons. You must accept that. Just as we accepted that your people build a fort we consider to serve no purpose. Each to his customs.

  “Now we must look to the future. The spirits of our ancestors are presently at peace and you have now settled among us to your satisfaction. The alliance between the Onondaga and the French will now be without clouds. It is up to us to make it more fruitful. I would like to reassure you that the Hurons we are welcoming among us are being treated like sisters we had lost and have now found. May your heart soon be at peace. Now speak, for we are listening.”

  Ragueneau stood to deliver his message. He had not understood everything, but had been touched by Awenissera’s words about the death of the Hurons. With a discreet nod, Father Le Moyne indicated that he should not deviate from what they had agreed would be said. Ragueneau noted, however, that he would be able to use Awenissera’s words to make his own even more convincing.

  “I am glad to have arrived in your country,” the Jesuit said in a firm, serious voice. “I have been waiting for this moment for a long time. As you said, I experienced great sadness on my way here, for I loved those Hurons as brothers. Your chiefs had already explained to me that their deaths will compensate the loss of those of you who were drowned when coming to fetch us. I will follow your advice and will not judge you for taking their lives. I respect your customs and am glad your spirits are now calm, despite the sorrow that I feel. Because even greater torment occupies my thoughts. Since I arrived in your country, I have felt the wrath of my God. I knew not why, until the answer came to me in a dream last night.

  “Father Le Moyne told me that, d
espite your desire to open your hearts to the words of our Great Spirit and to please him, you have still not let him enter this village, the centre of your nation. No chapel has as yet been built here in Onondaga, and no missionaries are permitted to live here permanently. I now know that our Great Spirit is very angry because of your refusal to welcome him here and I fear he will seek revenge. He is very powerful, and I am fearful for you.

  “To avoid a great misfortune befalling the Onondaga, I ask that you help me pacify our God. In my dream, I saw a wonderful chapel built in the midst of a bustling village, which I now recognize as your own. I lived permanently behind this chapel. I celebrated mass there every day before many Huron women and some Iroquois, too. Our God was pleased, and he smiled down on me. His anger was gone. Help me realize this dream and protect you from the wrath of our Great Spirit. I ask from the bottom of my heart that you grant me this favour, for the good of the Iroquois and the French, both of whom will profit from it. This is what I have to say to you.”

  Total silence fell on the assembly. No one had moved since Ragueneau had begun to speak. A mixture of surprise and fear was evident on the faces of the chiefs and the old women. Such a veiled threat had never been made by Father Le Moyne. Some Iroquois had been pleased with themselves for limiting the French influence in Onondaga, but this newcomer had sown serious doubt in their minds. They now knew that any reply to the Jesuit’s requests would have grave consequences.

  “As an act of our goodwill…” Ragueneau added, motioning for Radisson to open the large canvas sack he had brought with him, “...to show you that I seek only to spare you the wrath of our Great Spirit, I offer this gift to our friend Awenissera, who can share it among you at his convenience.”

  Radisson took six gleaming long-barrelled muskets from the bag, stacking them in a pyramid.

  “These are the finest muskets the French have ever made. They have just arrived from the other side of the great salty sea. We have brought others with us to exchange with you later in return for furs. It is now time for Radisson to speak. He knows you well for he spent a long time among the Mohawks.”