A Woman Caught Between Two Worlds
Marie Olivier Sylvestre — Wendat
“The months of snow and frost are called the Storytelling Moons and it’s the time of year when legends, teaching tales and traditional stories are shared around the fire. Stories were once my people’s university and everyone got to go.” — Richard Wagamese in Storytelling Moons
“Our young men will marry your daughters, and we shall be one people.” — Samuel Champlain to the Wendat (Jesuit Relations by Reuben Thwaits, 5:211, 10:26)
By 1637 the colony of Québec, just 20 years ago a fledgling village of 60 settlers, has now blossomed to a population of around 350, with new recruits continuing to arrive each summer. Most of those who come are single men involved in the fur trade or in establishing the settlements necessary to support it, under contract for 3 years. There are as yet few French women among the settlers, and very few of them are single. Upon completion of their contract, most young men will return to France as there is no future for them in this new world.
With the shortage of women, Champlain’s dream is of the indigenous women marrying the Frenchmen, causing them to stay, and creating his long-desired colony that way. Unfortunately for him, very few indigenous woman cared to do that.
His vision was not yet complete when Champlain died two years previously, in 1635. Charles Huault de Montmagny is now the first Governor of Nouvelle-France.
A Brief and Important History Lesson
Unlike England, France came to North America for its resources more so than for settlement, but Champlain believed you couldn’t have one without the other. He worked tirelessly to establish his colony. Nevertheless, his dream of building the new country was funded by the fur trade, so he invested himself in seeking working relationships with the local Algonkin peoples for that purpose. Through them he met and relentlessly sought to maintain a good relationship with the Wendat Confederacy of the Georgian Bay region of Lake Huron.
The Wendat were the ‘king pins’ of a centuries-old and well developed network of personal and trade relationships with numerous tribes in the north and west, to a lesser extent in the south and east. These peoples came to them to trade. As a result, the Wendat Iroquoian language was the trading lingua-franca and all those who traded in the region were fully bilingual. ii
From the north they received the thickest, most valuable winter furs and meat from the Algonkin, Nipissing and Cree peoples. From the south and west they received primarily tobacco, pipestone and obsidian via their friends, the Neutral. iii
The Wendat Confederacy were a semi-sedentary people, as is true of all the Iroquoian peoples. For trade, they grew hundreds of acres of the “Three Sisters” — maize (corn), beans and squash. They grew hemp to make rope and their sunflowers were prized for seed meats and oil. They were the ‘local’ farmers market, supplying winter foods to all those who lived north of them.
Their stockade-protected towns often consisted of 40 or more longhouses, each with multiple families residing in them, divided by clans that were led by the women. Their fields branched out from there so far that women with their children spent weeks living in temporary huts far from their homes to tend them, while the men were out hunting and fishing.
When the French came, Wendat trading of furs (pelts) with the east, to the trading posts first at Québec, then Trois Rivières, then Montréal, brought back to their partners many coveted trade goods they all soon wanted. Wendat convoys to the annual fur trade meetings were initially up to 400 canoes, paddled by hundreds of Wendat, laden with many thousands of pounds of furs. It was extremely valuable cargo, particularly in these early days of the trade, worth as much as 20 times more to the French than what the Wendat would receive for it.
For each pelt sold in Europe, the French could provide dozens of iron axe heads, however it would cost the Wendat one pelt to receive one in trade. They didn’t know how unequal this trading was. What they knew was that it was much easier to cut wood for their homes with an iron axe than a stone one. It was much easier to boil water in a copper pot than their birchbark or pottery ones. It was much easier to butcher their meat or tan a hide with a metal knife than with their bone tools. Very soon the indigenous were dependant on the tools provided by the fur trade.
Conflict With the Haudenosaunee
There’s a story about the Wendat and another Iroquoian-language speaking people now known as the Haudenosaunee Confederacy (aka the Iroquois) that has been forgotten. No one alive today remembers how it began, but at the time of our story these once aligned peoples no longer got along. v
For at least a century and nearly every year, the young men of both the Wendat and the Seneca went out to prove their fitness not only as warriors but as men by engaging each other in battles. These normally resulted in few deaths and hopefully much glory, particularly if they succeeded in capturing a few of their enemy. They would bring them back to their villages, either to be sacrificed or adopted into their own tribe to replace relatives that had been lost. With the competing French and Dutch / English fur trades, combined with European diseases ravaging their tribes, these battles began to change.
By 1637, Haudenosaunee raids on Algonquian tribes had increased, as the (primarily) Mohawk tried to capture the richer northern furs for their own trade. They prowled the Kitchesipi (Ottawa River), the ‘highway’ controlled by Algonkin bands that was the only route between the Wendat’s Georgian Bay homeland and the St. Lawrence River. The French wouldn’t trade with the Haudenosaunee due to these raids against their allies, but the Dutch at Fort Orange, New Amsterdam (now Albany, New York), as well as the English in Pennsylvania were happy to receive their stolen furs.
There was one notable advantage to this: the Dutch and English had no qualms about offering a gun in trade, unlike the French who insisted that anyone receiving a gun had to be baptized a Catholic.
Priests were quick to baptize an indigenous person if they were dying. All it took was their consent, and not always even that. However, they required extensive education to do so otherwise. It took from 1–3 years to satisfy the priests and many Wendat were loath to do so, not only because of the difficulty of pleasing the Black Robes, but most often as a general refusal to disavow their own beliefs and ceremonies. As a consequence, few Wendat were baptized and few had guns, while the Mohawk arsenal was growing. They had no problem using their guns to acquire the furs and the Algonkin and Wendat were dying, but not just from Mohawk guns. vii
Various European diseases wreaked havoc, particularly among those indigenous who had more contact with the settlers. Champlain was a very religious man, and along with focusing on the Wendat for the fur trade, he also succeeded in sending out the priests. Following some brief earlier attempts, Jesuit missionary Jean de Brébeuf and his companions along with numerous helpers were sent to live in the far-flung Wendat villages beginning in 1634, with the intent of staying. They had very little success with their conversions for over 10 years, however as a result of their constant presence and annual contact in French settlements, many Wendat began to die, primarily of smallpox but also other diseases.
It’s estimated 50% of their population was decimated by 1640. This trend culminated in 1649, when approximately 95% of the Wendat Confederacy had been destroyed. What was a population of 30,000 people, from Lake Simcoe to the Georgian Bay prior to the colonist’s arrival, were reduced to less than 2,000 in 40 years. viii
Wendat land was covered in their blood, the soil comprised of their decomposing bodies. Longhouses were emptied, many relatives now gone. The Wendat were in a perpetual state of mourning.
Our Ancestor’s Family
All tribes maintained a strict social taboo preventing intimate relations among relatives, therefore inter-marriage with another tribe was normal. It was also considered good business, creating alliances between tribes. If your relative married a Wendat it was a proud moment, cementing your relationship with them and helping to insure your people’s survival.
Such was the relationship between a baptized Algonkin man the priests named Roch Manitouabewich, and his wife, a Wendat woman for whom the Jesuits recorded her name as Outchibahabanoukoueou. Her name does not appear to be Wendat, however it’s possible she had been renamed when she married an Algonkin man, or perhaps it’s simply that was the best the French could do with it. The fact that priests don’t use a Christian name for her as they do for her husband is the strongest evidence we have that she was not baptized herself. The only reason we know which tribe she was from is because the priests, in one of their documents, stated her daughter’s nation as “Huron”, which was also her own identifier.
We will never know of which clan her mother was born, but we do know that was her life-long clan and her children shared it with her. The Wendat, as with all Iroquoian speaking people, are a matrilineal and matrilocal people. A woman’s children are considered to be hers; they are born into the same clan as she and will remain with her in her clan’s longhouse. At that time, if a couple no longer wished to be together, either could ‘divorce’ easily, but the house and children remained with the woman. Her ex-mate took his personal belongings and left. iv
Due to Mohawk raids, and probably for his work as well, Roch and his family lived in Sillery, just outside the protective walls of la Ville du Québec. Sillery was established as a refuge by the French in 1637 for their indigenous allies, in response to the Iroquoian raids. It was the first “reserve” — a location intended to be reserved for the indigenous — placed at a cove where the Algonquian peoples had traditionally fished for eels.
“The settlement became the home of up to 40 Algonquian Christian families, who lived there most of the year, excluding the hunting season. Missionaries to New France studied with the indigenous residents of Sillery to learn their languages before going to more distant settlements.” It was filling up quickly as Mohawk raids made living in their home territories hazardous. In Sillery they lived in wigiwams and longhouses much as they would have at home, that they built for themselves. ix
Roch developed a personal and profitable relationship with the French. He assisted Champlain for years as a guide and became a trusted advisor. It’s likely that he learned French as a third language, as it’s stated he is an interpreter as well. He probably assisted Olivier LeTardif to learn the indigenous languages and we do know they had become good friends by 1634. Roch regularly accompanied Olivier on his many visits to French trading posts, as part of Olivier’s duty as the Compagnie Clerk. x
Marie and her Godfather, Olivier LeTardif
Olivier LeTardif de Honnefleur was a prominent bourgeoisie who first came to Canada aboard La Catherine, captained by Raymond De Laralde. The ship left Dieppe, France on 15 May 1621 and arrived on June 15 at the trading post of Tadoussac, a short while later at Québec. It was he who, in July of 1629, handed over the keys of Champlain’s Habitation to the Kirke brothers when Champlain surrendered the village to the English. He then promptly left for France with Champlain. xi
The English / French treaty was finalized in 1632, and upon his return the following year, Olivier was promoted to the role of Head Clerk of the Compagnie des Cent-Associés. This position required him to travel to other settlements as well as tribes and Roch traveled with him. “It was at this period that LeTardif collaborated in the missionary effort: he supported the Jesuits and acted as godfather to indigenous people. Following Champlain’s example he adopted three young indigenous individuals.” Among them was Roch’s young daughter, born about 1624, who was baptized Marie Olivier Sylvestre. xii xiii
We will never know Marie’s birth name. The additional last name given to her by the French, Sylvestre, is Latin for ‘woodland’ from whence she came. As Marie’s änen’enh (mother) was a Wendat woman raised in a matrilocal society, I have chosen to align her daughter with her mother, as all children were.
It was customary among indigenous to exchange children for a period of time in order to further good relations among their trading alliances, and I believe it was in this spirit that Roch offered young Marie to her godfather Olivier LeTardif, to be raised by him, in 1636.
“… in our Chapel at Kebec, with the holy ceremonies of the Church, a little child a few months old; its parents had named it Ouasibiskounesout, and Monsieur Gand called it François. This poor little one was very sick, but God soon afterwards restored it to health. Its father’s name was Mantoueabeouichit, and its mother’s, Outchibahabanoukoueou. They have given one of their children, a little girl, to sieur Olivier, who cherishes her tenderly; he provides for her, and is having her brought up in the French way.” xiv
This little girl is our ancestor, Marie Olivier. It’s believed LeTardif gave her to Marie Rollet to be raised until the Ursuline nuns arrived. As he was a single man it would have been improper for her to live with him.
In 1639 Sister Marie de l’Incarnation arrived in Québec with members of her teaching order of nuns called the Ursulines. They were initially given a barn to work in as their home was being constructed and they immediately set out to instruct native girls in order to evangelize them. When the Ursulines had established themselves, LeTardif sent her to live in their boarding school. By this time Marie was probably about 14 or 15 years old. xv
What was it like for a young woman who was born a free person, raised with her parents until she was at least 10 years old, living in her indigenous, ceremonial and matriarchal culture, to be sent to live with the French in their post-feudal society? Yes, she, her father and brother had been baptized. They all probably wore at least some part of the linen and wool clothing of the French. As they were living in Sillery I suspect they were required to attend church on Sundays. However they were still a sovereign people who maintained their culture and recognized themselves as separate from the French. They considered themselves to be sharing their land with them — they considered the French to be their guests.
The indigenous culture impacted the French as well. It didn’t take them long to realize how much more practical the indigenous hide clothing is in the thick mosquito-infested bush and waterways of Nouvelle-France. The French adopted indigenous foods and other practices as well, and a number of French men preferred the indigenous life ways to their own. It was a pattern that would grow over time.
There were no poor people among the indigenous, no downtrodden or impoverished, no ‘classes’. Each person was valued and equal and they shared nearly everything. They had no need for prisons. They did not punish their children as they are considered a gift and their well developed culture was sufficient alone to raise them to become productive adults. xvi
Particularly among the Wendat, a woman carried her own agency from birth, but with any of the indigenous tribes no woman was considered weak or inferior, as they were in the French system to which Marie was transferred at such a young age.
The Jesuit Relations quoted above continues:
“If this child occasionally goes back to the Cabins of the Savages, her father, very happy to see his daughter well clothed and in very good condition, does not allow her to remain there long, sending her back to the house where she belongs.”
Why did a priest not mention her mother with the exception of that one time, ever again? The answer is easy: as a woman, particularly an unbaptized woman, the priests would have found no reason to take note of her. In the French system women had few rights of their own; in Nouvelle-France the unbaptised had none. xvii
What was it like for Outchibahabanoukoueou and her daughter Marie living among the French?
Marie’s Personal Conflict
“Bonjour Maman!” (Hi Mom!)
Marie had come rushing in the door of her parent’s home in Sillery. When she saw her father wasn’t there she removed her cap, setting it on a pile of firewood by the door. She’d be able to stay awhile.
Marie was proud she was learning so much. Particularly with her mother, she liked to show off her grasp of the settler’s language. She had been learning French for several years and became fluent quickly in the ‘immersion course’ in which she had been placed, however her mother knew less of the settler’s language, so Marie always kept it simple and brief.
Now at about 14 years old she had lived away from her folks since she was 10 and she continued to miss them dearly. She tried to visit every week when it wasn’t her turn for cooking duty. The Ursulines gave the students Sunday afternoons off from their lessons in sewing and embroidery and cooking and planting vegetables and French this and that, particularly their history. She didn’t care so much about their history — she wanted to learn her own.
“Kwe, anyenhah. Hateh achiateienst deʼka tsutareˀ iyentaye?” (“Hello, my child. What have you learned this seven days?”) xviii
Outchibahabanoukoueou knew the French were here to stay and was happy her daughter was learning the settler’s ways, even though it was nearly daily when she needed her girl to help her with all that had to happen to prepare the family for winter. Particularly when drying meat and fish, or tanning the hides that would carry the family through the cold months with food, moccasins and clothing, she found she missed her daughter dearly.
Most of the other women at Sillery could not understand why her daughter wasn’t with her, why she had been sent away to the settler’s school and was not returning home. She found herself growing tired of explaining it.
Today she was making several new pair of moccasins for her husband, who was beginning to wear through the soles of his last good pair. Marie sat on the floor of the lodge by her mother, relishing this opportunity to speak with her in their own language, and to help her.
“Warie, eonnraha senkwarawan!” (“Marie, it will get dirty, your clothes!”) Her mother rebuked her. xix
“Änen’enh, chienterih atehonyenkwarawa. Aweti iwayien de yacharo d‘askannent. Ayasehtih de yacharo yenkwaroyennen de yenkwaratsentsi.” (“Mother, you know that my clothes have been taken away from me. All I have is the necklace you gave me.”)
“Sanniannit eyonkwaronnia echiatorey. Teyeienhwi eyondiaras iyenkwaruten de hatinyǫʼmąhaʼ.” (“If you could stay a long time I will make you clothes to wear. I do not know how to help with the clothing of the French.”)
As Marie stood back up her mother looked at this beautiful nearly-grown daughter of hers. Now that Marie was coming of age she was wearing full colonial dress. In addition to the cap, she wore a linen chemise that dropped below her knees, and a wool waistcoat over that laced in front. Finally she placed a shawl draped across her shoulders, the ends tucked into the bodice of her waistcoat. She wore a thick gathered wool skirt that dropped to just above her ankles. A bibbed apron covered it all, buttoned at the top and tied around her waist to try to keep her dress clean as she went about her day.
Marie was taller than most French women, having taken after her mother. Indeed, many French men were shorter than her, and she quickly learned how to make her clothing to continue to fit as she grew. It had become a tiresome chore. She was originally excited to learn how to make her skirt in the bright colored cloth they had given her and she liked all the colors the cloth came in. It wasn’t long however before she missed the loose comfort and washability of the hide clothing she had been forced to leave behind. At least she was allowed to wear her comfortable native moccasins, as many of the colonists did. xx
Her mother put her hides aside and stood up next to her daughter, putting her arms around her and giving her the kind of hug only a mother can give. Then she turned Marie around as she did every time her girl visited, to make sure the voluminous clothing was hiding nothing she needed to see. This style of clothing was very cumbersome to her and she had no idea what the point of most of it might be, but more, she was concerned it was hiding the sign of smallpox — picotte, or le petite vérole.
“Taot eyatier deka endendisthate?” (“What will I do with this button?”) Outchibahabanoukoueou reached out to touch one of the buttons holding up Marie’s apron.
She received buttons in trade and puzzled over what to do with them. She used a number of them around the bottom in a design she made on a robe fashioned from a warm wool blanket her husband had given her. She placed another button at the neck, wrapping a thin strap of soft hide around it to hold the robe closed. However it didn’t stay closed as well as her traditional ties did. She hadn’t used buttons in the manner the French did and she wasn’t inclined to as it appeared much more difficult.
“Änen’enh, yienteri. Deka endendisthate yaste yonannonhwe chiendendisthararha. Dinde deka endendisthate yaste de yenkwaraweyi. Teyannrenskawash iohti yannrenskawash ondiowate kannrensh. Iyerhe aakwaerat de yatsinnonhiahtah aakwandiyi. Yachira teworawan. D’Atirihwiostih atirehwatih. Ayeyenhon okwistoniatha endendisthoyennen d’ onnionsara. Yatsinnonhiahtah aaorawan.” (“Mother, I know. This button is useful for closing clothing. It does not come loose like hide comes loose when it ties. I wish sinew would be used when we would sew. Thread is not good. Those female Christians they oppose it. I have seen a number of buttons made out of metal, with a hook that is underneath the button. Sinew would be good.”)
“Kwiohti achiaye d’ayendushonnia? Thora ayonannentenharon de endendistha. Skat ayerat ayendushannentat yengyaʼsaʼye. Teworawan. Tayatsaten chieratha. Eyerent handushawen de hiayisten. Tiohskenyen ayierik” (“Have you seen it, the robe that I made? Several gave me some buttons. One I used for a purpose. I attached the robe at my neck. It is not good. Show me how you use it. I will use it for his robe, he who is your father. I am close to having completed it.”)
Her mother went over to a wooden box her husband had brought home and removed the lid to bring out her robe and show it to Marie. She dusted off the lid when she closed it then gave it a pat, indicating Marie should sit there. As her daughter sat down, her mother handed her the robe.
As Marie gently held her mother’s excellent workmanship and looked at its construction, she longed to sit and sew with her, to show her the things she had been taught and to learn more from her mother.
“Änen’enh, iyerhe d‘eyondiaras. Onnianni onnen ahonnien.” (“Mother, I wish it, that I will help you. It is a long time ago when I made something for him.”)
These conversations were always difficult for her mother. Her voice was somber.
“Chienterih aontahiatsaren d’atatriwaienstandi hiayisten onhwa tehaate, Warie.” (“You know he would push you to the place of learning, your father, if he were here now, Marie.”)
“Iyerhe yaro aaontaayet entontiehti onnen Iesus ahatonnia. Onne skiatat. Wa yatihtsinonha eskwendetha tho ennondaon onditioye tsutareˀ iyentaye?” (“I wish it, I would come here in the day of quitting, fasting, when Jesus he is born. Then, I am alone. The other girls, they return where the home of their family is. I wish that you would ask of him that we be together for seven days?”)
Marie continued to push. She knew the other indigenous girls at the school were allowed to return home, and in fact were often only allowed to attend for a brief period of time. She had been there 4 long years now. She longed to come home.
Her mother looked at her daughter’s pleading eyes as she fought the tears threatening to come into her own. Then she simply shook her head ‘no’.
She used sign language while she spoke, showing that Marie and herself are one, then gestured their separation for Olivier LeTardif, as if both of their hearts were split in two.
“Kwiohti chienteri? Tetiwetande. Hondatsi tehndi hiayisten dinde LeTardif. Eyarihwatehkwi de tiatatena. Onhwa LeTardif hiayisten.” (“Do you understand? We will not be together. They two are associates, allies, your father and LeTardif. It will be forever, we two are parent and child (but) now LeTardif is your father.”)
Marie understood and had for a long time. Her father and mother’s relationship was an interesting one. Marie knew both of their peoples well and while she hadn’t questioned their relationship when she was younger, now that she was maturing she could easily see the bridge on which they walked. She now well understood those many times they had clashed.
She already knew of the devastation from illness happening to her mother’s people in their homeland, and that of her father’s as well. It was a difficult time for all their peoples no matter where they lived. She also knew it was probably good to be here in Québec, where their defense was strong, food was readily found and a doctor was available.
Raised as a Wendat woman in her mother’s clan, yet needing to listen to her father’s admonitions, having his say be ‘the last word’ had proved difficult for her, and she was now starting to realize how difficult it must be for her mother. xxi
Outchibahabanoukoueou had openly shared her stories and history with Marie since she was very small, not only the history of her own people and clan but that of her marriage to her father as well. Winter was storytelling time and the long nights had been spent telling these stories. It was one of the things Marie missed most when she was sent to live with the French.
Her mother had made certain Marie knew she was wanted and loved and as Marie grew up her mother was quick to tell her she would always have a home with them. That had been a mistake.
Marie’s Future
Marie was not to return to her family as the other exchanged children had. Her father was eager to please his guests and when she returned home he was welcoming but always kept the conversation on what she was learning and praising her for her accomplishments in French. His manner with her was formal and he never let her stay very long, always sending her back to the school after a short visit.
Marie longed to hear again the stories her mom and dad told during lazy gatherings around the winter fires they kept burning under the soup pot. She no longer heard the stories of their creation, about Ataensic when she fell from the hole in the sky, nor the funny stories of her father about Nanabozho. xxii
Now all she heard about was Moses and Abraham and Jesus and their travels. Christian laws and regulations. She always had to sit in a chair ‘just so’, and was admonished if she slumped or tucked her legs underneath her. She missed her mother’s cooking. She hardly knew her brother any longer. She bristled at being hit when she didn’t follow the nuns exactly. She quietly vowed she would come during the winter and sit around the fire with them to listen to their stories, but it was not to be.
Education as taught by the Ursulines in Nouvelle-France, much as in le vieux pays, was established along ‘class’ lines. The higher classes were taught reading and writing, as well as the finer points of sewing and home management. Despite her “adoption” by Olivier LeTardif, a man who could read and write well, and with friends in high places, Marie was never taught those things. She was taught lower class work, as all indigenous women were, the drudgery of taking care of their home and children, period.
She was taught how the French sow crops and maintain a vegetable garden, to butcher a pig, to make pastry and a tortière, as well as speak French while she lived with Mme. Rollet. When she was sent to the Ursulines we know her education in cleaning a house, washing clothing, diapering a baby and basic mending and sewing continued, and as all young French women were, she was taught to obey the men. xxiii
It must have taken Marie awhile to adjust because at 20 years of age she was quite a bit older than many French women were when she was married on the 3rd of November 1644 to Martin Prevost, a friend of Olivier LeTardif. It is reported that they were married in the home of Marie Rollet and her husband, Guillaume Hubou. Olivier and Guillaume Couillard, the husband of Marie Rollet’s granddaughter Françoise Hébert (and Olivier’s father-in-law) were witnesses. Their marriage is the first recorded between a French man and an indigenous woman in Nouvelle-France.
Martin is one of the pioneers of Beaupré, just outside of Québec. He was a habitant who not only had a farm in Beaupre, on the Seigneurie of Beauport, but who would one day also own land and a house in Québec city. He must have done well for himself and his family. xxiv
Marie‘s Married Life
We can imagine Marie’s life as difficult or not, but most certainly her childhood was wrenching. Not only was she removed from her parents at a young age, but the culture clash must have been repeatedly horrendous for Marie as the Ursulines continued in their desire to assimilate her. xxv
We don’t know anything further about her parents, if her mother remained alive or possibly had succumbed to the smallpox epidemics that were now intermittently raging. It’s possible her parents were no longer together at the time Marie was married. We do know her dad was among the living, as he is mentioned in her marriage record, however he wasn’t present at her marriage. Did no one invite him? Did he refuse to come? xxvi
Priests consistently noted the married couple’s parent names even if they were deceased, as they did for her husband Martin’s late mother. That Marie’s mother isn’t mentioned is more evidence that she never consented to be baptized.
We also don’t know if Marie’s parents ever met their grandchildren. Did she teach her children all three of her languages? She knew how to make snowshoes, to tan hides, to dry meat and fruit and vegetables — did she pass her indigenous skills on to her children? Finally, did she remain properly submissive in her life among the French?
In 1642 she is recorded as having become a Godmother to at least one other indigenous child. That is the document in which she told the priest she was “Huron”, and that her name was Ouchistaouichkoue. Was that her birth name? Regardless, it’s apparent she never forgot who she was and she carried it with pride.
I believe she made the best of it, and probably with a smile on her face for the eight brown-skinned children she bore in her marriage of 21 years. She had four sons and four daughters, of which three of her children died within four months of each other, ages 12, 7 and 4, in 1661–62. It must have been an excruciating loss. I can’t find a record of any particular disease moving through the colony at that time, but it was undoubtedly due to one. Marie had no antibodies to pass to her children from her breast milk, leaving them as susceptible to the rampant diseases passing through the colony as the fully indigenous were.
Four of her children grew to bear their own children, among them our ancestor Louis, who was about 15 years old when his mother died. Marie passed on 10 September 1665, following the June birth of her last daughter Thérèse, at age 41. xxviii
Each of her children married a colonist.
Martin and Marie’s land on the coast of Beaupré
The Seigneurie de Beauport
(Noël Langlois, another of our ancestors, is also shown on this map)
EndNotes:
ii Better known as the Huron, they called themselves Wendat and that is the name I use for them as well.
iii Wendat archaeological sites in the central and western regions of Ontario have yielded turquoise from the American Southwest, obsidian from the Rocky Mountains, copper from Michigan, red pipestone (catlinite) from Minnesota, seashells from the New England coast (wampum) and a metal Viking axe that made its way west in trade relationships from the peoples of the north Atlantic Ocean, probably Newfoundland. Trade networks were vast and thriving. A very recent finding (published 6 June 2024) states: “Archaeologists Heather Walder, UWL assistant teaching professor, and Alicia L. Hawkins, University of Toronto Mississauga associate professor, have uncovered evidence that glass beads reached the Western Great Lakes region before European settlers arrived around 1670.
By analyzing the chemical composition of 1,000, European-made glass beads from the 17th century, the researchers were able to trace their origins. Glass from different European glassmaking centers is distinguishable by its unique trace elements, allowing the team to pinpoint where the beads were produced.
Their findings revealed that glass beads in the pre-1650 Western Great Lakes region shared sources with those from Wendat villages in Ontario, hundreds of kilometers away. This suggests that the Wendat, a confederation of four First Nations bands, were trading beads with the region’s inhabitants, the Anishinaabe and other Nations, long before European settlers arrived.
The study, recently published in the journal “Antiquity,” provides compelling evidence of Indigenous influence and control in early trans-Atlantic exchange networks. This demonstrates that Indigenous Americans were not passive recipients of European goods but were actively shaping trade dynamics and maintaining extensive social networks. (https://www.uwlax.edu/news/posts/ancient-beads/ )
iv “The Children of Aataentsic: A History of the Huron People to 1660” by Bruce G. Trigger, McGill-Queen’s University Press is a highly recommended read.
v Studying archaeological sites, it seems the Wendat split from other Iroquoians (Haudenosaunee) probably occurred at around 1475 (using current dating methods), however this is just a guess.
Whenever it was, at the time of our story the Haudenosaunee Confederacy consisted of 5 tribes: the Seneca, Onondaga, Mohawk, Cayuga and Oneida. The Wendat (Ouendat) Confederacy consisted of 4 tribes now called Bear, Rock, Cord and Deer and the Tionontate (Petun or Tobacco) peoples. http://www.saintemarieamongthehurons.on.ca/sm/en/HistoricalInformation/TheLifeoftheWendat/index.htm
vi The Algonkin people are a specific tribe who controlled not only the Ottawa River but also the interior into the mid- Québec and Ontario valleys on both sides of the river. Algonquian is the language group used by most of the Eastern Woodland peoples (Montagnais, Algonkin, Cree, Mi’kmaq, Abenaki, etc.) This accounts for the spelling differences.
vii Jesuit Relations of 1637, page 1. “Many do not wish to go to the white men’s Paradise because their unbaptized relatives will not be there. A characteristic excuse is this, “I have no desire to go to heaven; I have no acquaintances there, and the French who are there would not give me anything to eat.” The contagious epidemics afflicting the Indians continues to increase, causing many deaths; and even the coming of winter fails to check it. The town of Ossossané is ravaged by the disease, and Brébeuf and his assistants journey there several times during the winter, to give both material and spiritual aid to their wretched parishioners. They also go about among other neighboring villages, serving the sick and dying as best they may.” The Jesuits, through ignorance of how disease worked, are directly responsible for spreading much of the illness prevalent in Huronia at the time. http://moses.creighton.edu/kripke/jesuitrelations/relations_13.html
viii “A Population History of the Huron-Petun, AD 500–1650” by Gary A. Warrick; Cambridge University Press, 2008 “1639–40 census (Thwaites 1896–1901, 17: 223; 19: 127). The devastation of the period 1634–1640 was the worst period. “For the Wendat-Tionontate (Huron-Petun), the epidemics of European disease ended in the spring of 1640, leaving an estimated 12,000 scarred and battered survivors. In a period of six years, European infectious disease and depopulation the Wendat-Tionontate were reduced from 30,000 to 12,000 — a depopulation rate of 60 per cent. Catastrophic depopulation of the Wendat-Tionontate evoked this reaction from Jerome Lalemant in 1642: where eight years ago one could see eighty or a hundred cabins, barely five or six can now be seen; a Captain, who then had eight hundred warriors under his command, now has not more than thirty or forty; instead of fleets of three or four hundred canoes, we see now but twenty or thirty. (Thwaites 1896–1901, 23: 109)
ix https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sillery,_Québec_City
x Olivier LeTardif married Louise Couillard in 1637, the daughter of our Auntie Guillaumette Hebert and Uncle, and her husband Guillaume Couillard. Refer to the story of Marie Rollet and Louis Hebert.
xi See the previous story of Helene Desportes
xii The Company of 100 Associates was now responsible to run the fur trade and settlement in Nouvelle-France, of which Cardinal Richelieu was Associate #1 and Champlain was #52, each paying 3000 livres for the opportunity. https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/compagnie-des-cent-associes
xiii http://www.biographi.ca/en/bio/letardif_olivier_1E.html
xiv Jesuit Relations, Volume XI, 1636–1637, page 90–91 http://moses.creighton.edu/kripke/jesuitrelations/relations_11.html
xv Les Mémoires de la SGCF, Vol. XII No 1, January 1961, A.Emile Ducharme
xvi This is just one of the recurring objections of all indigenous to adopting the French culture and religion, who believed as the English that ‘to spare the rod is to spoil the child’. Children carried the same status in their person as adults among First Nations. To hit a child is violence.
xvii Women are not often mentioned in Le Coutume de Paris, the French civil code of laws. Among the few times women are mentioned it is stated the code did not allow a women to speak in any business matter without her husband’s written permission. Though not all provisions of the code were so strictly followed in Nouvelle-France, this one was.
xviii Wendat translations provided by Ethnolinguist Professor John Steckley, Hechon of the Wendat people.
xix Note that the Wendat language does not use the letters ‘M’ and ‘F’.
xx Most of the indigenous in Nouvelle-France were taller than the French, and the Wendat were tall among the indigenous. Until whiskey and disease began to take their toll, they were noted as being very healthy and handsomely fit, male and female.
xxi The Algonkin people did not have the matrilineal and matrilocal ways of the Wendat. The woman went to live with the man, who was the primary decision-maker in the family. In Sillery this was how life was lived among them.
xxii “Sky Woman”, the Iroquoian story of creation. Nanabozho is the trickster of creation in many Algonquian stories.
xxiii By 1668 Marie de l’Incarnation, who brought the Ursuline order to Canada, acknowledged that their attempts to assimilate indigenous girls were a failure. They only taught French girls thereafter. https://cha-shc.ca/_uploads/5c38af9fb775e.pdf (page 7). It is not known how long the Ursulines kept Marie, particularly during the smallpox epidemic of 1639, when the Augustinian hospital, Hôtel-dieu became known as ‘la maison de la mort’ (the house of death) and additional sick persons were transferred to the Ursulines. She may have been returned to Marie Rollet’s home, at least for a time. It is known she never lived at Olivier LeTardif’s home.
xxiv http://www.biographi.ca/en/bio/prevost_martin_1E.html
xxv Hitting a child to correct them was never done among any indigenous culture: children were considered a gift and were treated as such. The indigenous were appalled at this practice among the Europeans.
xxvi By 1639 smallpox was now visiting Nouvelle-France regularly. The Sillery reserve was subject to a number of epidemics that would leave it completely abandoned by the late 1680’s.
xxviii Two children died within a month of each other in 1662, undoubtedly due to an epidemic.
DISCLAIMER
If you look online you will find many very confused and non-corroborated statements. I’ve found numerous writings of people claiming Roch was Wendat. Where they got that I have no idea, as it is not listed in any primary source record and his name is distinctly Algonkin. Sillery was also reserved primarily for the Algonquin tribes and is listed as such in primary documents.
Marie is the only member of her family where her tribe is officially noted and this ‘from the horses mouth’: she stated herself to be Wendat in a baptism record where she is the Godmother of an indigenous child. For me that is sufficient proof. It is apparently the only time she herself was ever asked.
I have been unable to find the baptism record noted above, which renowned researcher Suzanne Sommerville found and cannot find again, however at the American-Canadian Genealogical Society Marie Olivier Sylvestre is also acknowledged as a Huron. The original record has been found twice — you’d think I could find it eh? ~(:-)
Finally, for numbers on the trade value of pelts (Brief History), the only reference I could find is from a document relating to the English. Though the numbers would not be precisely the same, and though the starting date of the graphs are 30 years off or so, the price and value of pelts were comparable between the two nations, due to their intense competition. In other words, my numbers are something of a guess but probably close. https://eh.net/encyclopedia/the-economic-history-of-the-fur-trade-1670-to-1870/
