Post 1 - Donnacona
(Rennes, March 1540)
Donnacona was dying. He was in a strange land, surrounded by strange pale-skinned people, and he was dying. From what he understood of the local language the disease that he had come down with was fairly common in this land, and that usually only children contracted it. The nurses, unaware that Donnacona could understand what they were saying, spoke to each other about Donnacona's case. One of them thought that Donnacona was being punished by God for his refusal to convert to the local religion – Christianity they called it – and that if he would only agree to be “baptised”, Donnacona would soon get better. At least that's what Donnacona had thought she was saying.
When Donnacona had first arrived in this land, he had known very few words of the local language. While he had picked up a few aboard Cartier's ship as they had crossed the great ocean, he had relied mostly on his son Domagaya to translate for him. When Cartier had brought him to see the King in 1537, Domagaya had again acted as his translator to tell the King of the Land of the Saguenay and the riches that lay there. However, even then he had understood a good many of the words that his translator used, and recognized that the tale of the Saguenay that Domagaya told the King was more extravagent than the one that Donnacona had told his son.
And, then, soon after the visit to the King, Donnacona had become sick. He had survived the first illness, and the second, but since he had become sick the third time, he hadn't recovered. His two sons who had accompanied him across the ocean were already dead. For the past six months, he had been interned in this hospital in Rennes, and every time he showed a sign of recovering, he came down with a new, more serious illness. Now, Donnacona was so sick that he couldn't keep down food, and spent most of the day sleeping. And while he was sleeping he dreamed.
There was one dream that haunted him most. He dreamed that Cartier, the man who had brought him across the ocean, returned to Donnacona's home town of Stadacona [1], where he was chief. When Cartier arrived and disembarked in Stadacona, carrying a wooden box that was presumably filled with trade goods, the Stadaconans reacted with hostility. At first, the hostility was just an exchange of strong words between the Stadaconans and the pale-skins, but soon a battle broke out that left dozens dead. At first, Donnacona had no idea what had caused this fight. Certainly, there had been tension between the Stadaconans and the pale-skins when Cartier had visited last, but no blood had been shed then. After repeating this dream a dozen times, Donnacona finally caught a glimpse of the contents of the box that Cartier had unloaded from his ship. Donnacona finally understood the cause of the conflict when he saw, lying below him, his own dead body....
Sometimes the dream would continue past the initial conflict. After some time, the pale-skins would leave and return to their land across their water. And even as the pale-skins were leaving, the Stadaconans were already becoming sick. Donnacona saw his people come down with every single one of the illnesses he'd contracted since crossing the ocean, and saw his people die one by one until only one in ten survived. He saw the crippled remains of his tribe overrun by warriors from the South until every last one of them had either been taken prisoner or fled. He saw the doom and destruction of his people, all stemming from his own death. If only his death could be prevented.....
Today, Donnacona woke to see the hosptial priest – Père Jerome – standing over him. Jerome had come many times before, each time trying to convince Donnacona to convert to Christianity and be baptised. This time, as before, Donnacona refused, but today, Père Jerome wouldn't take no for an answer.
“I have been told by the nurses that you speak French now,” Père Jerome said, “they've heard you crying out in French in your sleep. Well, if you can understand what I'm saying, maybe I can talk with you a little. Will you listen?”
Donnacona was too weak to speak, but nodded his approval. He didn't have the willpower to say no to a conversation.
“The nurses say that you don't have long to live,” Père Jerome went on, “and we're all worried about what will happen to you after you die. We know that you don't believe in heaven, but we here at the hospital do, and we know that to get into heaven, you will need to be baptised. We have tried to convince you of the truth of God's word, and we understand that you're still unconvinced, but really, what do you have to lose? If you're right and we're wrong, a few drops of water can't hurt you. And if we're right and you're wrong, then those same few drops of water can save you from an eternity of suffering.”
And if the nurses are right, those few drops of water could save my life and the lives of my people. “I'll do it,” Donnacona croaked. [2]
* * *
(Rennes, July 1540)
Donnacona returned from his walk around the hospital courtyard. His legs were still weak, and he was still rather light-headed, but he was able to walk again after almost a year of being confined to his bed. He returned to his place in the ward to find Père Jerome waiting for him.
“We think that you're well enough to travel now,” Jerome announced, “we've sent a letter to Cartier in St.-Malo, and he'll be sending someone to bring you back there soon. Are you looking forward to seeing him again?”
Donnacona thought for a moment. “Since I'm a Christian now, and since you're a priest, if I tell you things, you're not allowed to tell anyone else, right?”
“Well, usually we apply that rule of confidentiality specifically to confessions, but if you do want to tell me something, it is about time for you to make your first confession. You have been a Chrsitian for a number of months now.”
“Ever since your God saved me from my illness.”
“He's not just our God, he's yours too now, but, go on, say what you wanted to say.”
“Well, I think Cartier's been taking advantage of me. When he told me he wanted to bring me across the ocean so I could tell his King the legend of the Saguenay, I didn't realize that he was going to profit from my story. Well, you probably know the story that I told the King: that there is a land filled with gold and riches to the North and West of my homeland.”
“Yes, there's a Kingdom of gold and Cartier wants to lead an expedition across the sea to conquer it in the name of France, right?”
“Well, the story the King heard is not entirely true. My son, when translating my story for King Francis, referred to me as a `King'. I'm not a King in the same way that Francis is your King. Francis rules a land so big that this city of Nantes is only one amongst many cities filled with thousands of people. I rule a town of 500 people.”
“But isn't your town just the capital of a much larger realm?”
“Well, Stadacona is the largest town in the region you French call 'Kanata'. It is the place where the people of the surrounding villages come to trade, and we are often in charge of coordinating the defense of the smaller villages against raiders from other nations. However, I do not rule those smaller villages the way that Francis rules this big land. And even so, there is a larger town upriver from Stadacona called Hochelaga which is much more powerful and much more influential. If I am a King than the chief of Hochelaga is an Emperor.”
“Ok, so you're saying that you lied to King Francis.”
“Well, my son was translating for me. I told my son that I was a chief of Stadacona, and he used the word 'King'. I told the my son the story of the Saguenay, where our copper comes from and my son described the Saguenay as a land of gold. I think that Cartier convinced my son to exaggerate the riches of the Saguenay so that the King would finance another voyage, although I'll never know now that Domagaya is dead. I'm worried that if Cartier's been misleading the King that he might be misleading me as well. I'm worried that Cartier's more interested in conquering my own town of Stadacona than he is in conquering the Saguenay.”
“So you're worried that if Cartier receives a commission for another expedition that it will mean destruction for your people”
“Exactly. I think I may have to find some way to tell King Francis that the Kingdom of the Saguenay isn't as rich as he thinks it is so that he'll refuse to support the expedition. That way at least my people will be able to live in peace.”
“But if King Francis cancels the expedition, then you'll have no way of getting home.”
“That may be the price I have to pay.”
A few minutes of silence passed as Pére Jerome thought. After some time, he spoke: “There may be one way to both protect your people from the likes of Cartier while still returning home to them…”
* * *
(Paris, October 1540)
After months of waiting, it was finally time. As Donnacona entered the King's audience chamber, he rehearsed the speech he had prepared with Père Jerome's help. He wasn't as convinced as Jerome was that this plan would be successful, but, then again, he didn't have the same understanding of French culture and politics as Jerome. And, if worst came to worst, he still could probably tell the King the truth about the Saguenay, and make sure to get the expedition called off. But, first he would try the more ambitious plan.
“Jean-Paul, King of Stadacona, that is your new name, correct?”
“Yes, Jean-Paul is the name they gave me when I was baptised,” Donnacona replied.
“Well, what brings you here today?” asked the King.
“Your Most Christian Majesty, it is an honour to be able to speak to you.” Donnacona tried to imitate the courtiers with his flattering manner while still maintaining his own dignity. He wouldn't want the King to think he was a lowly chief of a small town.
“I have never seen a Kingdom as glorious as your Kingdom of France,” Donnacona continued, “The Kingdom of Saguenay, to the Northwest of my home, while it is rich in gold and diamonds, is decadent and corrupt. France on the other hand is a model nation, a Kingdom for all Kingdoms to emulate with a ruler who inspires envy in all his rivals. My own Kingdom of Stadacona, as strong as it is, will never compare to the glories of France. I have come to see the superiority of your religion and have converted to Christianity. I have come to the realization that Stadacona is best served, not by remaining a Kingdom of its own, but by becoming part of the glorious nation that is France. I hereby swear fealty to you my glorious King, and offer to add my lands and my people to your Kingdom. I wish to serve you as your loyal vassal, and wish to have you as my leige.” [3]
“What use will your Kingdom of savages be to France?” the King challenged, “what use is it for me to acquire a vassal who can't provide me with knights or musketeers?”
“It is true that we in Stadacona have never held a musket nor rode a horse, but we can still be of use to France. If Cartier intends to conquer the Kingdom of the Saguenay, they will need our help. They will need guides to show them to that glorious Kingdom. They will need porters to carry their supplies along trails that are too rough for horses. They will need local allies to provide them with food, clothing, and shelter in the distant land of Kanata [4]. I offer my people's services as those allies. We will ensure that your expedition is able to successfully conquer the Saguenay in the name of France if you will defend my own rule over the land of Kanata as your humble and loyal vassal.”
The King was silent, and began whispering to his advisors. After some time, he spoke again. “Jean-Paul Donnacona, Lord of Stadacona, I accept your fealty, and make you my vassal. You and your descendants will bear the title Compte du Canada, and your lands will be protected as long as you remain loyal servants of the French crown. Rise, Compte du Canda.”
“There is one more thing I wish to ask, my leige,” Donnacona continued.
“Yes.”
“I imagine that when they hear the story of Jesus Christ our Saviour, my people will wish to convert to Christianity as I have done. Stadacona will need a priest to perform their basptisms. There is one priest who I feel would be a good fit for the job, as I have already taught him a few words of our language. His name is Pere Jerome, and he works at the hospital in Rennes…” [5]
* * *
(St-Malo, July 1541)
Cartier's third expedition was finally ready to depart. Donnacona and Père Jerome were aboard Cartier's ship waiting for the last of the cargo to be loaded aboard. While Cartier's ship was departing from St-Malo, the main fleet would have already left Rouen the day before under the command of Jean-François de la Rocque de Roberval. In a surprising twist, Roberval had been appointed commander of the expedition instead of Cartier, although Cariter was still the chief navigator. Cartier's ship would rendezvous with Roberval before the fleet would beginning their crossing of the great ocean.
On board the fleet were 300 expedition members, cattle and chickens, grain, dried meat, and beer, muskets and ammunitions, metal tools, bolts of cloth, and much more. Donnacona had never seen so many supplies. “So this is all just enough to supply an initial scouting party?” Donnacona asked Père Jerome.
“Yes, when it comes time for Roberval and Cartier to actual conquer the Kingdom of the Saguenay, they will for sure bring more men,” replied Père Jerome, “the current commission from the King only asks Roberval to establish an outpost in your lands, from which further exploration efforts and attempts at conquest can be based. Cartier knows as well as we do that your tales of the Kingdom of the Saguenay were exaggerated, and I'm pretty sure his plan is to continue exploring in the hopes of finding a route to China, while telling Roberval and the King of the gold and diamonds that are just waiting for them if they continue to support his expedition. I doubt that you'll have to worry about surrendering any more territory to Roberval than you already have in granting him the lands needed to build his outpost.”
“I'm uneasy enough at the prospect of having 300 of Roberval's men walking around my town carrying muskets. I don't think we could handle 1000.”
“Yes, but we both know that you don't have a choice. At least if Roberval and his men see you as a loyal vassal of the French Crown, they will think twice before picking a fight. And being a loyal vassal meant that you had to give Roberval position to set up his outpost. You're not thinking of changing your mind are you.”
“No I'm not,” Donnacona replied, “I know that my people have no hope of survival if we become enemies of the French. I'm just worried that the French won't accept us as equal partners in an alliance.”
“Well, as long as your people remain heathens, then Roberval and his followers will treat them as heathens. But, if they accept the teachings of Christ and the Church, then, and only then, will they be deserving of equal treatment.”
“Are you sure? I've converted to Christianity and I've been baptised, but I still get a lot of strange looks from Frenchmen.”
“That's just because they're not used to seeing people like you. Let them get used to it. Besides, you've noticed a difference in the way people treat you since you've started wearing civilized clothing, right?”
“Right.”
“Once the French get used to seeing civilized Christian Canadians like yourself, they'll treat your better. Our task now is to spread the Word of God and teach your people the ways of civilization and Christendom…”
The conversation was interrupted by shouts up on deck as the crew pulled up the gangplank and made the ship ready to set sail. As the ship pulled away from the dock Donnacona thought more about the future of his people. While he had seen for himself the good that God had done for him, and wanted to share his new religion with his people, he wondered if Père Jerome really had the interests of his people at heart. While it was clear that the French had a lot that his people lacked, Donnacona wondered if the 'civilized' ways that Père Jerome spoke of were really superior to his own people's ways.
When he thought more about it, he didn't really want to become a Frenchman. He didn't want to wear French clothing; he found it uncomfortable and restrictive. While he would be happy to share the stories of Jesus Christ with his people, he didn't want his grandchildren to grow up without knowing the stories that Donnacona had heard in his own childhood. And while he wouldn't mind spending the winter in a nice warm French-style house with solid walls, he wouldn't want Stadacona to become a dirty, noisy city like Paris, Rennes, or even St-Malo.
But at the same time Donnacona recognized that his people had a lot to learn from the French. While he didn't want to blindly adopt French ways, he also didn't want to stubbornly cling to tradition. He hoped to find a third way; a way of adopting the good parts of France without the ills. He hoped to be able to build a society that would take the best parts of France and Kanata, and bring them together. Creating a new way of living for his people, that was Donnacona's dream…
****
Footnotes:
[1] Stadacona is located in the site of OTL Québec City
[2] The POD is NOT the fact that Donnacona converted to Christianity. According to at least one source, Donnacona died a Christian IOTL. The POD is Donnacona's survival. While Donnacona believes that he survived due to intervention of the Christian God, this is an effect of the POD.
[3] The fact that King Francis is falling for the `land of gold and diamonds' story seems doubtful from our current knowledge of what the pre-contact interior of North America was like, but it is OTL. In OTL, even when courtiers tried to suggest that Donnacona's story of the Saguenay might be exaggerated, King Francis continued to believe in it.
[4] While Canada was in OTL and is in TTL the “official” spelling of the name of the OTL St. Lawrence Valley, Donnacona knows that this word is derived from the word `Kanata' meaning village, and so uses the word `Kanata' instead of 'Canada'. Eventually, all Europeans who have learned at least a little of the local language will use `Kanata' to refer to the St. Lawrence Valley, and `Kanatian' to refer to the people we know as the St. Lawrence Iroquoians.
[5] This is part of Père Jerome's plan. He is ambitious and thinks that if he establishes himself as the first priest in New France that he might be made Bishop of New France someday.
