Samuel de Champlain. Francine LegaréЧитать онлайн книгу.
His father before him had also been a seagoing captain. Antoine de Champlain, husband of Marguerite Le Roy, had only one son, Samuel, born around 1567. The family lived in Brouage, on the west coast of France, in Saintonge. The small, walled city was then renowned for its salt marshes, among the largest in Europe, and for its prosperous seaport. All year long, French and foreign ships would stop off to pick up a cargo of salt. More than a simple seasoning, salt then played a key role in conserving food. These were heady times for Brouage, and Samuel's youth was filled with the constant coming and going of sailors addressing each other in foreign languages and setting off for distant lands. In port, other ships were leaving for America: local fishermen frequented the cod banks off the coast of Newfoundland and brought back, along with their heavy catch, boastful tales of the islands and unexplored territories. Their nets, filled to the brim, spilled a little of the New World over onto the docks of Brouage. All this was in full sight of the young Champlain.
The sea's presence permeated the city. It ruled the lives of his father and his family, and Samuel, from a very young age, believed that what counted most in life was linked to tides and currents, to setting sail, long absences and exotic new surroundings. His future would be spent sailing the open seas and discovering distant shores. That much was certain.
Among those close to him, an uncle named Guillaume Hallène personified an attainable ideal. An experienced seaman from Marseilles, he had sailed down the coasts of Africa and South America, besides having encountered high adventure as a ship's captain.
“You too, nephew, will experience the swell of tropical waters and the sweet scent of the Brazilian coast. When you're a little more grown up, I'll take you on board.”
The child protested.
“But I'm already big enough to travel with you…”
“When you're a little older. The sea will wait. In a few years it will be your oyster. As far as I'm concerned, there's no other life quite like it.”
Between his trips, the heroic uncle, also called “Captain Provençal,” transported Champlain into a future that couldn't come quickly enough. All the while, he forged links with the boy, links as solid as a ship's moorings.
At this time France was the scene of the Wars of Religion. Catholics and Protestants killed each other relentlessly. Some of the bloodiest confrontations took place in Brouage. In 1585, Champlain was fifteen years old in a city reduced to famine by the Prince de Condé, a fervent Protestant. The struggle intensified: salt was then in great demand, and the victors would control the famous marshes. Epidemics added to the misery. Bombardments spread the terror. Peace seemed a thing of the past.
Given these circumstances, the lure of the sea became even stronger for Champlain. Even the worst storm seemed less cruel than repeated persecution and massacre. For a few years, Samuel worked as a sailor aboard various ships.
In 1593 he enlisted in the army of Henri IV. The League representing Catholic interests fiercely opposed Henri's accession to the throne as a Protestant monarch. Henri benefited from England's help in this new battle, while Phillip II of Spain supported the Catholics because he coveted the French crown for his own daughter. When Champlain joined the army, the French king had just converted to Catholicism, sealing France's unanimity in confronting Spain.
Champlain first served under Maréchal d'Aumont, an authoritarian determined to impose ironclad discipline in the chaos of battle. One day he had thirty of his own men executed for disobedience. The scene left the young soldier with an image of authority of which he only half approved! Certainly being firm-handed was indispensable for imposing order, but firmness could be exercised in other ways than by killing insub-ordinates!
Later he became a billet master, in charge of supplies and barracks for the troops. Obliged to see to daily necessities in the midst of the horror of war, Champlain developed skills that subsequently proved useful when, in the middle of nowhere, he would have to use his ingenuity to find ways to house and feed the colony's first inhabitants.
In 1598, the royal armies won the final victory. Throughout the five previous years, Champlain had had the opportunity to demonstrate his aptitudes and loyalty to his superiors. Influential military chiefs thus introduced him to Henri IV. Samuel was awarded not only a pension in recognition of his services, but more important, the respect and ear of the King.
The war was over. Champlain had been a man of action. Now approaching thirty, how would he use his seafaring and soldiering skills?
Like any mother who loved her son, Marguerite tried to keep Samuel close to her by mapping out a more peaceful future for him than the one he had known until then.
“You could live in Brouage, and farm the land,” she suggested to him innocently.
“I don't think the land would appreciate being mistreated by me,” Champlain retorted, laughing – he who had never shown the slightest interest in how things grew.
“Where will you head off to, then?”
He didn't know exactly. But Marguerite would have been even more worried had she known what was going on in her son's mind. For Champlain's goals were lofty and encompassed discovering the world.
After this war in which Champlain distinguished himself, peace accords allowed Spain to repatriate its numerous soldiers taken prisoner. Waiting to return to their country, the men were detained at Port Blavet, in Brittany. Who should be found there, pacing the docks of the port, but the famous uncle? Captain Provençal was not only a well-known navigator in his own country, but had also made his mark abroad. The King of Spain entrusted him with the mission of bringing back the prisoners aboard his ship, the St. Julien. The uncle informed his nephew he was welcome to come along, and Samuel accepted with alacrity.
On July 15, 1598, the St. Julien, an imposing vessel that had already sailed to Newfoundland, lifted anchor. Champlain learned the ropes during the voyage, which included several perilous episodes: they struck some rocks in the fog and were completely immobilized for several days. After six weeks, the ship arrived at the Spanish port of Cadiz.
“Finally!” proclaimed Captain Provençal on deck, opening his arms wide, glad to be back in this city where he had his second residence. “Stay as long as you like, Samuel. Here you are at home!” The offer came at just the right time. After the harshness of army life, the vineyards, olive trees, and flower banks of Spain were entrancing in the autumn sunshine.
The nephew spent four months in Cadiz and in Seville, to the north. He toured the area, made contacts, drew maps of the cities he was discovering. He went where he pleased and sometimes would join his uncle. One day, they were meandering together down a small, bustling street in Cadiz, where the fish market gave off its smell of the sea in the morning air.
“Would you be willing to go back on board?” Guillaume Hallène suddenly asked in a mysterious tone.
Samuel looked at him inquiringly.
“Say… to the West Indies?”
“Are you really asking me?” Samuel replied, picturing himself there that very minute.
The name “West Indies” had been given to the islands explored one hundred years earlier by Italian navigator Christopher Columbus and other discoverers searching for a passage to India; at this time, the islands were under Spanish rule. Reportedly, they were laden with gold, silver, rare varieties of trees and exotic fruit. Yet these reports were more than just stories: by the shipload, Spain was stripping its colonies of riches. The European powers fiercely disputed Spain's right to these possessions. The ships' cargoes were frequently plundered by pirates from England, France, and Holland.
As for the two men making their plans, they were now discussing the island of Puerto Rico, then besieged by an English fleet. In response to the attack, the King of Spain was preparing to send over two thousand men and twenty ships. The St. Julien would be among them.
“Will you come with me?” asked the