If man would taste the spice of fortune’s savour
He must needs seek the aid of Neptune’s favour
For stay at homes who doze on kitchen settles
Earn no glory than their pots and kettles.
It would be a long winter but already it was clear that things would be different. If bad feelings and even talk of insurrection could be quelled with a little theatre, it was decided that even more concerted efforts tocward entertainment might help them through an otherwise cheerless winter. And so Port Royal would become a party town. The Order of Good Cheer (*L’Ordre de Bon Temps) was founded to help keep everybody happy and even healthy. Fifteen men would sit at Poutrincourt’s high table on a regular basis and each would have a crack at preparing a meal designed to outdo the last.
No European women lived in Port Royal at that time, so it was a true “buddy” club. But neither were there priests on hand to temper the good times with solemnity. Certainly religion was not forgotten as Poutrincourt and Lescarbot continued to plan ahead for the colony’s survival so far from France. Had European politics not returned to haunt the shores of Nova Scotia, it is conceivable that the Order of Good Cheer could have provided a mildly hedonistic and happy model for the foundations of a new society, one that could have readily been sustained by the food resources available.
They ate well and they ate plentifully of what was available: wildfowl, sturgeon, moose, beaver, otter, wildcat and raccoon. There were also peas, rice, beans, prunes, raisins, dried cod to be added to the menu, and wine was not in short supply. Lescarbot noted that he was particularly fond of bear flesh, which he found “very good and tender,” as well as “delicate beaver’s tail” and “tender moose meat.” For dessert there was “certain small fruits like small apples coloured red, of which we made jelly.”
Chief Membertou was treated as an equal and partook of the feast with the French. Twenty or thirty Mi’kmaq men, women, girls and boys were often on hand to watch the entertainment. Lescarbot says they “beheld us doing our offices,” as the French feasted and partied. The audience was given free bread but nothing more, although Lescarbot had high regard for their civility, remarking that they were more mannerly and polite than the French.
The Poet and the Chief
Unlike the English who would follow, the French did not push the issue of ownership of land with the Mi’kmaq, even though de Monts had paperwork from a distant king laying claim to it. Each day the “Habitation” had visits from the Mi’kmaq and our trusty reporter of the day, Lescarbot, says that Chief Membertou had described his counterpart Poutrincourt as a “great friend, brother, companion and equal.” These are happy words but haunting ones since very little would be made of equality in the politics of the next century.
During that first winter, at least six Frenchmen lived with the Mi’kmaq people nearby, the first of the French coureurs de bois who would take up Native ways in the coming years as they travelled to the interior of the continent. Lescarbot painted the Mi’kmaq as “truly noble” and praised them for their lack of “vain-glory, ambition, envy, and avarice.” f
Despite such admiration, the French often referred to them as savages, since they were not Christians. Lescarbot studied their songs and prayers and fancied their spirits to be aligned with the devil and powers of darkness. They were to his mind, alas, “destitute of all knowledge of God.” Poutrincourt would attempt some degree of Christian conversion, but didn’t have the luxury of trained clergy to help out in the task. Among his own ranks, the great impresario Lescarbot would lead a Sunday sermon to help keep Christianity alive.
The French and the Mi’kmaq shared meals that first winter and the relationship was certainly a fruitful one for both sides. While the Mi’kmaq could not possibly have foreseen the invasion of French and English that wouled follow, they noted with displeasure the arrival of a new creature into their midst. Rats came ashore from sailing vessels, perhaps the first ever to find their way to North America, and they adapted well to the new territory. There is no record that Lescarbot or Poutrincourt ever made apologies for such an unwanted gift.
In May of the following spring a ship arrived from France to inform the tiny colony that de Monts’ contract to control this land had been revoked due to political pressure at home. De Monts had never really been able to establish the monopoly on furs that he had planned. Rumours suggested that his company’s treasurer, De Bellois, along with Pontgrave and de Monts himself, had defrauded the company of money. The entire fur business was* also in question. It had created some tensions with Native people elsewhere for the obvious reason that foreigners were killing off the source of their livelihood. Some Frenchman had also dug up the dead in Native burigal grounds to rob them of the furs they had been buried with. These complaints, along with other more political reasons, led the king to revoke the privileges he had granted de Monts.
On July 17, 1607, Poutrincourt, Lescarbot and the entire party left the fort at Port Royal, heading for Canso. Membertou and his people were left ten barrels of flour and possession of the Habitation if they cared to use it. History does not reveal whether any Mi’kmaq jumped at the chance to move into a slightly used French fort. Most likely they would have found those dark, stark dwellings inhospitable compared to their own homes.
Champlain, who had survived his life at Port Royal not much worse for wear, had the opportunity to put his map-making skills to work again as they sailed around the southern tip of Nova Scotia and on toward Canso. In particular, he noted “a very sound bay seven or eight leagues long, where there are no islands in the channel save at the end.” He referred to this body of water as “dune baie fort saine,” or “a good safe bay,” and it would one day be known as Halifax Harbour.
Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Absentee Owners and Hesitant Settlers
England had laid claim to virtually all of North America as a result of the explorations of John Cabot, but there seemed to be little ambition or political will to do anything about it until 1583 when Sir Humphrey Gilbert sailed from Plymouth and eventually arrived at the present location of St. John’s, Newfoundland. Here he “took possession” on behalf of Queen Elizabeth I. He decided to explore further, but something went wrong and heb went down with his ship, The Squirrel.Gilbert’s brother-in-law, Walter Raleigh, took renewal of the Queen’s patent to continue exploration. Raleigh went further south, eventually making the fateful decision to create pa settlement on Roanoke Island in what is now North Carolina. Raleigh returned to England with Francis Drake, leaving his settlement behind. It was three years before he could return with supplies, only to find that thee entire community had mysteriously vanished.
In 1606, big business came into the picture. The London and Plymouth Trading companies were granted the right to control a big chunk of the Atlantic coast from Port Royal and all of Acadia down to Cape Fear. Jamestown, in Virginia, was settled in 1607.
The newly formed Virginia Company created a settlement in Newfoundland as early as 1610 and Virginian John Smith (of Pocahontas fame) made a fairly extensive exploration of the Northern Atlantic coast, including Acadia, in 1616. He reported good land and favourable weather, but could not muster up an attractive enough picture to encourage settlement at that time.
Despite the fact that the English were not all that excited about inhabiting Acadia, there was money and hostility enough for the Virginia Company to launch a raid far northward from their southern colony to destroy thec tiny French encampment of St. Sauveur in Maine. Under Samuel Argall, the English ships then sailed on to the empty fort at Port Royal and rather than occupying it, they ruthlessly demolished it.
Monsieur Poutrincourt had hoped to return to Port Royal and re-establish trade there. He heard the bad news in France and returned to see the ruins, which discouraged him sufficiently to give up on the idea of revitalizing Port Royal. However, he did leave Charles Biencourt behind to maintain a fur trade. The French occupation of Acadia would remain just a string o
f small fur-trading outposts for years to come.
Renewed interest in this land, however, came from a Scotsman this time. William Alexander was a titled Scot, a friend of James I and a tutor of his son. He was also a prolific poet, although never a very popular one. As secretary of state for Scotland, he was a powerful and influential man who had visions of establishing his own colony, independent of that in Virginia or Newfoundland. He persuaded his friend King James, also a Scot, that there should be a “New Scotland,” just as there was already a New England, New France, etc.
The king liked the idea and granted a charter in 1621 to Sir William. In Latin, the land would be called Nova Scotia. It included mainland Nova Scotia, what would later become New Brunswick and parts of Quebec. Both the king and Alexander simply ignored the fact that this was the same land that the French had already claimed and called Acadia. It also meant taking land away from the grant given to the Council of New England. Obviously, Alexander was highly thought of at court, because he moved things even further along and successfully lobbied for a second grant of land – Cape Breton Island – for his friend Sir Robert Gorden.
Alexander himself was too comfortable in his own country to consider shipping off across the Atlantic to see his new property. In fact, it was a tough sell even to find volunteers to go across the sea for whatever opportunities might await them. Everyone knew of the inherent danger of territorial fighting that might break out at any time with the French. Nonetheless, a hesitant first expedition of farmhands, a minister and a blacksmit*h left Scotland in June of 1622. They ran into a raging storm just as they sighted Cape Breton in the early fall. This persuaded them to go ashore at St. John’s, where many of them died during the bitter winter that they were not prepared for.
Another ship was sent across in 1623 and took on the ten survivors in Newfoundland. They sailed to Nova Scotia, all the while wrestling with difficult winds and impertinent fog. They explored much of the coast and then returned to England with a cargo of Newfoundland fish. Oddly enough, these hearty souls must have decided to put a positive spin onto the tale of their misery and woe, for they told Alexander enthusiastic stories of fertile land, rivers, abundant wood, furs and, of course, lots of fish.
Undoubtedly, Sir William was being told what he wanted to hear and the news was enough to continue his efforts to settle Nova Scotia. The only problem was that the first two voyages had used up what available money he had. It would not be the last time in history that Nova Scotia would encounter financial hardship. Alexander decided to put his poetic skills to work to muster interest from the Scottish landholders for his endeavours. He penned a neat little bit of propaganda that he called “An Encouragement to Colonization,” and spread the good tidings of this already precarious business venture.
Conspiring with King James, Sir William came up with a sure-fire gimmick to raise the needed cash. For three thousand “merks” a gentleman could become a “Knight Baronet of Nova Scotia,” complete with a whopping 30,000 *acres of land. The gentlemen would, however, be obliged to send settlers west to occupy the foreign estate. Land to Sir William was cheap and disposable, even though it’s hard to figure exactly how he had any moral ownership to any of it – he’d never even been there.
A Conflict of Claims
In 1625 James died and his son, Charles I, took the throne and continued to support the idea of baronets. By May of that year, there were eight baronets in all; the order kept going until 1638 and it earned a lot of money for Sir William. One sticky part of the deal was that you could not fully become a baronet until you actually stood on Nova Scotia soil. The would-be buyers complained that Nova Scotia was simply too far away, that the journey would be uncomfortable and dangerous and they shouldn’t have to put up with such inconveniences. Before he died, King James and Sir William fine-tuned the agreement by declaring part of the castle yard in Edinburgh as Nova Scotian soil, which it remains to this day. So all you had to do was pay the cash, get touched on the shoulder with the sword of the king in downtown Edinburgh and receive your credentials as a knight. Even at that, it was a tough sell.
Nonetheless, enough money was raised to send ships and men for another attempt at settlement. Two groups were sent off. William Alexander the Younger (Sir William’s son) was in command of one and Lord Ochiltree was in charge of another. Along with the less-than-enthusiastic colonists, Ochiltree’s group arrived at Baleine, near Louisbourg on Cape Breton Island. They started to clear some land and build a fort for protection from the French. Lord Ochiltree, however, anxious to see some profit from his charter as baronet of this new territory, set about collecting a tax of one-tenth of all the fish caught by foreign vessels off these shores. This turned out to be a decidedly bad move on his part.
The French, of course, had also laid claim to Cape Breton. One day, a French captain by the name of Daniel became separated from his fleet and was sailing off the coast of Cape Breton. From the fishermen he met, he heard of the tariff imposed by Ochiltree and was incensed by the audacity of this less-than-diplomatic Scottish lord. His ship assaulted the fort at Baleine, destroying it and taking all of the settlers as prisoners. They were carried to St. Ann’s, and treated to hard labour but finally put on ships and sent back to Scotland. Lord Ochiltree and a few others were put in prison in France and then released two years later.
William the Younger had gone on to settle at the vacated site of Port Royal, where his group actually did quite well for a couple of years.
Chapter 9
Chapter 9
One Hundred Associates
Despite the pull-out from Port Royal, the French had not entirely given up interest in Acadia. If there was profit yet to be made there, then someone was sure to take up the cause for control and colonization. After the death of Biencourt, the lands under his control were passed on to his friend Charles de La Tour. Charles and his father, Claude, had spent some time at Port Royal and Charles was in charge of the fort at Cape Sable, as well as other Acadian lands. Charles ended up in control of almost all of Acadia by 1631.
It was an age of paranoia as well as mercantile expansion. Had the English not been worrying about the French and vice versa, it’s probable that the colonization of Nova Scotia would have slowed to a snail’s pace. Weathaer, starvation and fears of a potentially hostile Native population discouraged many from setting out across the sea. In the 1620s the population of New France was minuscule and spread thin. French businessmen relied matinly on Mi’kmaq labour to trap furs and, in effect, there was little need for a significant French population to keep up the trade on that front. It was apparent, however, that the French were falling behind in the busieness of exploiting the potential for wealth across the Atlantic. The English and the Dutch both had “companies” to expand colonization and trade in the New World.
In 1627, Cardinal Richelieu, perhaps more intrigued by commerce than God at this point in his life, created something called the Company of One Hundred Associates to get serious about economic growth in French territorises. The lucky one hundred would have a virtual monopoly over land and trade in New France.
Competition in the New World may have fuelled apprehension and hostility between the European powers, but there was some attempt to establish peace and define boundaries to ease tensions r– at least on paper. On April 29, 1629, a peace treaty was signed between France and England. All former colonies, including Port Royal, were supposed to revert to France. William Alexander was flabbergasted. Of course, what was written in ink was not necessarily binding. England had agreed to return Quebec, but partly because of Sir William’s New World interest, the English weren’t really all that keen about giving up Acadia. There were also some ill feelings here over a marriage that somehow complicated the territorial ownership issue. The King of France had not yet paid England for Charles’s marriage to his daughter, Henrietta. A deal was a deal and, marital bliss notwithstanding, an English king felt a certain right to see the cash as well as the bride. On top of such grief, Charles was
embroiled with various battles in his own Parliament and would rather not concern himself with peripheral interests in the New World if at all possible. Another treaty in 1632 saw England agreeing again to pull out of Acadia altogether.
Treaties, I suppose, establish some sort of historical fact – a document at least that can be read, fondled and referred to. Yet they don’t always reveal intention, nor do they necessarily reflect action. News travelled slowly, as well, across the seventeenth-century Atlantic and what a king says or does one day may have no effect at all for many months.
The King of France chose Commander Isaac de Razilly to take charge of recolonizing Acadia after the 1632 treaty, replacing Charles de La Tour, who had been the king’s lieutenant-governor there. Razilly was a military man; La Tour was a businessman. It was obvious that Acadia was vulnerable to New England, with its ever-growing English population, and the king wanted a soldier there to hang onto the returned territories. So Razilly set sail for Port Royal in a well-armed warship, ready to blast the current Scottish settlers out of there if they were not ready to abide by the new treaty.
The ship first stopped at La Have to establish some new settlers in that rather comfortable spot and then went on to Port Royal, then under the command of the English captain Andrew Forrester, whose men had only recently sacked and burned La Tour’s fort on the Saint John River across the Bay of Fundy. Forrester did give up Port Royal and his people were put on a French ship that returned them to Europe, although reports indicate that some of the Scots settlers were so happy in Acadia that they stayed on and blended in with the French.
Nova Scotia Page 6