It was enough to make them wonder if the colony was ready to take on such an ambitious project.
As Radisson met with people to get everything he needed from the list, he realized that many locals disapproved of the expedition. The merchants especially were against it and refused to provide the goods they would need to trade. They didn’t trust the Iroquois and thought there were many other matters in the colony that should be seen to first. Starting a building site on the other side of the world made absolutely no sense to them. When Ragueneau returned from Québec with the good news—the governor had agreed to fund part of the project—he had to meet with them to try to bring them around.
The meeting was held at the Jesuits’ residence. Trade had been so slow that three of the four merchants there had now completely turned their attention to farming. The fourth, Michel Langlois, was kept busy transporting goods on his boat between Québec and Trois-Rivières, usually for the Jesuits. Despite the very warm July weather, Ragueneau insisted on keeping all the windows shut so that the conversation would remain private.
“I don’t understand you,” Ragueneau told them. The Jesuits have always paid you cash on the barrelhead! You’ll get your money back as usual, in no more than a year. There is no risk, I can assure you. Why are you being so stubborn? What’s the problem?”
None of the merchants wanted to be the first to answer: the Society of Jesus held too much power in the colony for anyone to go up against it.
“Things are moving too quickly,” Langlois at last decided. “Once your fort is ready and you’re sure the Iroquois want peace, then will come the time to trade with them. But until that time, it’s just too risky.”
“But trade has ground to a halt! Things aren’t looking too good for you these days. Here I am giving you the chance to at last make a little money and you’re telling me you’d rather wait! Wait for what? The Second Coming? You’ll be ruined long before then! And the colony with you!”
“Michel’s right,” Noël Racine chimed in. “The trade goods aren’t going to lose their value. Provided they stay here with us, there’s nothing to fear. After all that’s happened, Father, surely you can understand we have reason to be wary of the Iroquois. They asked you to send missionaries, so go ahead and send them, if that’s what you want. But we’d rather wait a while before we start trading with them.”
“You know very well the Iroquois trade a fortune’s worth of furs with the Dutch. Once we are in their lands, we will try to convert them while others try to turn part of this fur trade to our advantage. If we have nothing to offer them in return, the Iroquois will continue to make the Dutch richer and we’ll keep on getting poorer. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, gentlemen. It’s a well-known fact. The Jesuits are investing a fortune in this enterprise and we expect you to do your part. The whole colony stands to benefit, starting with you.”
The four merchants looked at each other, sweating and uneasy, but standing as one. Radisson had been following the discussion discreetly, preferring to stay in the background, and he knew very well that they hadn’t dared tell the priest what they really thought, opinions they had shared with him on more than one occasion. The merchants dreamed of making the project smaller, reducing it by at least a half, and delaying it as long as possible. In a perfect world, they would have liked to see it cancelled completely.
“Bringing a mission to the Iroquois is the best way to get trade going again,” declared Ragueneau. “We’re going to turn things around in our favour! The more confidence the French have in themselves, the greater the show of strength, the more the Iroquois will respect us. At last we have a chance to prove we can replace the Dutch! All we need to do is sell the right items at the right price. Gentlemen, this opportunity is not to be missed! Unless you have any better ideas?”
“Think about Médard Chouart,” countered René Hunault. “He set off a year ago and no one’s seen hide nor hair of him since. Maybe he’s dead by now, all his wares lost forever. If we wait a little longer, maybe we’ll see that trade is going to pick up on that side.”
“We salute his courage. Let’s hope nothing has happened to him. It’s a big risk he took for the common good. But no one knows what shape our former allies are in. We do not even know where they fled to escape the Iroquois. Médard Chouart had no guarantee he would be able to bring back any furs. My proposal, on the other hand, is a sure thing: we know where the Iroquois are, we know their intentions, and we are sure their trade with the Dutch is substantial. If we bring them a great many goods to be traded, we will bring back many furs. It’s simple mathematics. And so I expect you to take part rather than run away and look for cover.”
“I don’t trust them Iroquois,” René Huault replied. “It’s too risky.”
“They’re our allies now!” Ragueneau exclaimed, his face red with the heat and the strain. “Are you afraid? Is that it? You’d rather hide away like our nuns shut up in a cloister? God bless their souls… What I’m saying is there’s no point waiting around, or even praying—we have to act! As our founding saint taught us: pray as though everything depended on God, but act as though everything depended on you! What sort of businessmen are you anyway? You ought to be ashamed of yourselves! Even the governor is behind our project. He’s giving us a great deal of money to move ahead with it. You’ll be left behind, and too bad for you! We’ll just have to find other partners.”
“Wait, Father,” intervened Claude Volant, who had not yet spoken. “Stay calm. Only fools vent their anger. We’re ready to do our share… It’s just that we’re as poor as Job since the fur money dried up. All we have left is the merchandise you’re asking us to put up with no guarantee. The Iroquois killed our brothers just last year, Father. Perhaps you’ve forgotten that. Well, we haven’t. Why not meet halfway? Why not pay us for half the goods up front with the governor’s money? The other half you have can have on credit. That way, the risk will be shared. That’s only fair, isn’t it?”
Ragueneau bit his tongue. Claude Volant was a God-fearing man, a man he had a lot of time for and a responsible, level-headed officer of the militia. The priest was also aware he should try to keep his temper in check; his anger had already landed him in enough hot water as it was. He took the time to calm down and realized that Volant’s proposal was full of common sense.
“You can’t let us down, Father,” Volant added. “It wouldn’t be fair to freeze us out. Think of the people of Trois-Rivières who have given their lives. The money we are asking for is going to be spent here, right here in a village very much in need of it.”
Volant had cut in at just the right time, with solid arguments. Radisson thought Ragueneau should accept the compromise on offer. If his new master was a man of sound judgment, as he believed him to be, he would agree.
“You’re right, Claude,” the Jesuit conceded. “What you are suggesting is entirely reasonable. If you get paid for some of your goods now, you’ll be less concerned. And all of Trois-Rivières will benefit. I am prepared to compromise. I’ll see to it that you get half the money for your wares before we leave, provided that you lend us the other half.”
Radisson was pleased. But the merchants, who had not entirely gotten what they had come for, had to make the best of the situation.
* * *
Radisson admired the daring behind the project, which was built on the say-so of two Jesuits who lived among the Iroquois. Even though he sometimes defended the project to its opponents, he preferred to keep in mind that he was only an employee and was there to serve the Jesuits. The thought helped him get through the drawn-out negotiations.
The project took up all of his time. He planned, discussed, worked, and ate with Ragueneau, Brother Leboeme, and Françoise. And, when he wasn’t doing that, he was running from one end of the village to the other to fetch this or that. Together with Claude Volant, who spoke Algonquin fluently, he asked the fifteen or so Indians who had chosen to live close by the village to build them the four birch-bark canoes they still nee
ded. They agreed. Along with the fourteen canoes Radisson had used his powers of persuasion to mobilize in Trois-Rivières, that would be enough to transport the fifty men along with all the goods.
So that they wouldn’t be entirely dependent on hunting and fishing, Ragueneau insisted they bring along plenty of food supplies. They would be spending many months there before a first harvest of vegetables and cereals. Thirty sacks of wheat from France soon arrived from Québec. Françoise had already reserved the pig and chicken couples they would bring with them to reproduce. She also salted vast amounts of pork and beef, sealing them in small barrels.
The smith who would be going with them arrived from Québec on Michel Langlois’ boat, along with all his equipment: tools, anvil, fire tray, and bellows. He also brought with him the extra iron they had requested. Radisson had a double layer of bark cover the bottom of some of the canoes to protect them when carrying all the heavy materials. He divided the goods carefully between the canoes, making sure not to overload them.
Ragueneau was pleased with Radisson’s work, but demanded the pace of preparations be stepped up. He wanted to be completely ready by the time the Iroquois arrived.
Brother Leboeme took care of the packing. One after another, he made little bark or wood boxes, filling them with knives, axes, and pots to be traded, as well as iron tools, pots, and kitchen utensils for the fort, lead for the muskets, and a metal supply. He took great care when packing the precious portable altar, liturgical vases, holy books, and the pious images the Indians enjoyed. The Jesuits would have all they needed for their apostolate.
Radisson and Brother Leboeme devised a packaging they considered to be entirely watertight for carrying the gunpowder in. They covered the powder barrels with waxed cloth and a double layer of bark. As for the sacks of wheat and peas, since there was no more waxed cloth, they dipped some strong cloth in the liquefied spruce gum the Indians used to seal the seams of their canoes. Now, even if it rained, even if the canoes took on water, not a single seed would sprout. It was vital their food supplies reach their destination intact.
Other items were less fragile. Radisson and Leboeme tied up rolls of cloth to be traded and placed glass pearls and little bells in jute bags without further ado; coils of rope went at the bottom of the canoes.
The toughest task of all had been finding new muskets. Ragueneau was determined to offer them as gifts to impress the Iroquois. Radisson had found only two in Trois-Rivières and none at all in Montréal—the colony’s poorest French settlement—while merchants in Québec insisted on holding on to theirs. Ragueneau was first helped by Pierre Boucher—Boucher was always keen to support the Jesuits of Trois-Rivières and happened to be in the good graces of the governor in Québec—then he wrote personally to the governor, asking him to lean on the merchants.
And so twelve more new muskets at last arrived from Québec, along with twenty or so soldiers from the garrison, who were to protect the fort. Missionaries Ménard, Dablon, and Frimin arrived by boat two days later, accompanied by Father Brouet and Father Boursier, a mason, and three carpenters. Hot on their heels came the Jesuits’ superior, François Le Mercier, the expedition commander, Zacharie Dupuys, and the interpreter, Guillaume Couture, who had already spent four years with the Iroquois.
The village of Trois-Rivières had never seen the like of it; people and goods spilled out of the Jesuits’ residence and into the courtyard. Radisson gave up his room to Superior Le Mercier and slept outside, more comfortable there than in the house, as long as it didn’t rain. Those in Trois-Rivières who still doubted the expedition’s success were won over by the excitement in the air. Nobody dared criticize a thing. Although exhausted by so much going back and forth, the tension, and a sleepless night or two, Radisson managed to do everything Father Ragueneau expected of him. He and the merchandise were ready for adventure. The Iroquois could come.
* * *
On the morning of July 30, thirty emissaries beached their canoes in front of the fort in Trois-Rivières. Seeing the almost naked Iroquois land, their powerful bodies painted bright colours, Radisson was almost overcome with fright. Trying to make himself see reason, he thought back to the day he had fled his village. Back then, he had been terrorized by the thought of meeting an Iroquois, who would have killed him on the spot. This same nightmare was slowly resurfacing.
Commander Dupuys, Ragueneau, Pierre Boucher, and Pierre Godefroy, captain of the militia, came out immediately to greet them, followed by a handful of locals who milled around the foot of the palisade to take a closer look at their former enemies. As soon as Radisson regained his composure, he went out to stand with Marguerite, who was having a hard time containing her rage before the men who had killed her husband.
Once the emissaries had gathered around a large fire in the middle of the village, discussions commenced. The Iroquois were very surprised to see so many Frenchman ready to return with them; they had come only to discuss when and where their new allies should join them on their lands. They had no mandate from their chiefs to bring the French back with them, they said. The Jesuits insisted. The Iroquois resisted. The tension mounted.
It took two days for Guillaume Couture, who had perfect command of their language and a sound grasp of their customs, to appease them. Father Le Mercier had come to doubt their sincerity, even though, since Ragueneau had already organized everything, he was keen to leave immediately. Surprised he could still understand the Iroquois language so well, Radisson sat in on all the negotiations. From time to time, scenes of his torture would come back to haunt him. Whenever that happened, he would walk away for a time, returning to make up his own mind about the Iroquois’ real motives.
On the third day, Guillaume Couture withdrew with the Jesuits, Commander Dupuys, and the experienced Pierre Boucher to tell them he was running out of arguments. He suggested they give the emissaries an ultimatum; he sensed they were close to giving in. The Jesuits approved of his strategy. Back with the Iroquois, Couture spoke in no uncertain terms:
“Enough talk. Either you take us to your lands now, as the people from your nation who came to Trois-Rivières before you promised us, or the Iroquois are liars and the French will never settle among them. The French have only one word, but the Iroquois have several, it seems. It’s up to you. That’s all we have to say on the matter.”
The chief leading the negotiations asked for a little time for the Iroquois to discuss the matter among themselves. When they all returned to sit with each other, their spokesperson declared that they agreed to meet the French demands.
“Prepare your canoes and your bags, bid farewell to your women and children, for we will guide you to our country as soon as you are ready. The Iroquois also have only one word. The French are our allies and we wish to be at peace with them. You have prepared carefully in response to our invitation and we do not want to disappoint you. The responsibility of satisfying your desires rests with us.”
The sun had set some time ago when Radisson, still not entirely reassured, raced back to inspect the bags one last time by torchlight. He was surprised to find himself shaking again, as though an evil spirit had crept inside him and taken hold of his courage.
During this time, François Le Mercier asked Father Ragueneau to follow him into one of the residence’s closed rooms. The two men shut themselves away in the attic, with only a candle for light.
The two men could barely stand each other. Because of his intransigent, quarrelsome nature, Le Mercier feared that Father Ragueneau might try to rally everyone against the Jesuits. Two years earlier, he had written about the matter to the Society in Rome. The decision came down one year later, by return mail. Ragueneau had been removed from his position as superior, with Le Mercier taking his place. Le Mercier had sent him to Trois-Rivières immediately, wanting to sideline him and give him cause to consider his behaviour. Ragueneau had reluctantly obeyed, all the while continuing to come up with initiatives such as this expedition. He now feared this little tête-à-tête was
going to mean more trouble for him.
“I don’t like the Iroquois’ attitude,” Le Mercier told him. “Even though they have agreed to lead us back to their lands, it worries me they were so reluctant.”
Something wasn’t right about their attitude. But Ragueneau was quite certain his superior hadn’t pulled him aside to state the obvious. He waited for more.
“That’s why I think it would be wiser if one of us stayed behind. I mean a man of experience who will be able to act quickly, and make the right decisions, if things turn sour over there. I think that man should be you, Father Ragueneau.”
The Jesuit gritted his teeth.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Le Mercier went on, “but you’re wrong. It’s not another punishment. On the contrary. Given the level of risk, we must be able to count on a man such as yourself. Father Le Moyne and Father Chaumonot are both over there and well positioned to advise us how to act. You will be most useful here. It’s for the good of the Society, Paul. We’ll be safer if you stay in Trois-Rivières.”
“My experience would be more useful with the Iroquois, I’m sure of it…”
“Well, I need you here,” Le Mercier concluded bluntly. “I order you to stay here. And you have no choice but to do what I say.”
Despite the anger that flooded over him to the point that it made him dizzy, Ragueneau fought to keep a cool head. If he answered back, his fate would be sealed and Le Mercier would send him packing to France. Perhaps that was even what he secretly hoped for, but Ragueneau had no intention of giving him the satisfaction.
“Very well,” he said in a voice devoid of all emotion. “But if I stay behind, I want Radisson to stay too. You have Guillaume Couture. I want to keep Radisson. I need someone who knows their language and customs. Otherwise I will be of no use to you at all. At least give me that.”
“I agree,” Le Mercier replied, happy to soften the blow he had just dealt his colleague. “It’s a wise precaution on your part. It was very clever of you to think of it so quickly. Ask him to teach you the Iroquois language over the winter and, all being well, you can come join us next summer.”
The Adventures of Radisson. Back to the New World Page 10