In 1832 a fallen warrior chief of the Sac and Fox Nations decided to dictate his memoir. The Autobiography of Black Hawk is still in print. According to the Pulitzer Prize winning historian David Hackett Fischer (Washington's Crossing)  “it was a warning to leaders of all nations against the folly of false pride and blind prejudice."

But Black Hawk also wanted to share his knowledge of good leaders, so he began his book with a story about two of them.

One was an ancestor and war chief who, according Black Hawk, lived “in the vicinity of Montreal” during the 17th century. The other was a Frenchman who appeared in the St. Lawrence Valley at the same time. “The son of the King of France,” or so says Indian legend. The two men became great allies, trade partners who respected each other for many years. The memory of this Frenchman traveled over a thousand miles, and was preserved orally for close to a hundred years.

Black Hawk didn’t remember the Frenchman’s name, but according to Hackett Fischer, only one historical figure matches his description: Samuel de Champlain. “Many stories have been told about first encounters between American Indians and Europeans” Hackett Fischer writes in his latest book Champlain’s Dream. “Few of them are about harmony and peace. The more one reads of these accounts, the more one learns that something extraordinary happened in New France during the early seventeenth century—something different from what took place in New Spain, New England, and New Netherlands.”

This isn’t to say that all the French explorers treated Indians well. Jacques Cartier, the first Frenchman to land on American soil repaid the friendly Indians he met by kidnapping their children and bringing them back to France as curiosities.  On his second visit he kidnapped five Indians, including a chief. Their families never saw them again.

But Champlain was different. “His ideal of humanity was very large” even when it was “limited in strange, ironic ways…. He had deep flaws and made many enemies, responded badly to criticism, and could be very petty to rivals.  But other men who knew this man wrote of him with respect and affection.  Even his enemies did so.”

For many reasons historians have been working recently  to give Champlain a greater place in world history.  Between 2004 and 2007, five volumes of collected essays have appeared in France, Canada and the U.S.  Together these books have prompted more than a 100 new studies.

In part this is because of a renewed interest among historians in the subject of leadership. But it's also something of a reaction to the political correctness of the 20th Century.  There was a time once when official history viewed  New World explorers as saints.  And then there was the time, often with good reason, when they were viewed as villains. Champlain is the rare one who emerges from scrutiny as a human being we can recognize.

Unfortunately, the most popular story about Champlain  emerged from the trend to vilify.  Check out Wikipedia and you’ll read that Champlain is responsible for a longstanding war with the Iroquois. As the story goes, he taught the Iroquois  about guns by shooting their chief. 

According  to Hackett Fischer, however, the story is much more complicated.

Before that fateful meeting with the Iroquois, Champlain had formed alliances with three tribes, the Algonquin, The Montaignais and The Huron.  Like most of the tribes in the north east, they were at war with the Iroquois League, in particular The Mohawks. 

Since his first arrival in North America, Champlain had a vision of Indians and Europeans living in peace. For that to happen, there needed also to be peace between the Indians. As he wrote in his journals “They were sick and tired of the wars they have had with one another for more than fifty years….They have spoken to me about it many times, and have often asked my advice, which was that they should make peace with one another, and we would assist them.”

  But making peace with the Mohawks proved to be an insurmountable challenge.  According to Hackett Fischer “They had a reputation for skill in war, among many warrior nations.  And they were also known for cruelty, in a very cruel world."  Champlain, however, knew that they were also victims. He sent peace feelers to them though a Mohawk woman prisoner who he had protected in Quebec City. But these overtures went nowhere.

Champlain was an explorer, but he was also, foremost, a soldier.  He decided the best course of action would be seventeenth century version of shock and awe. He set out from Quebec City gathering a fairly large Indian war party along the way.  On July 14, 1609 he reached the lake which now bears his name. The voyage Champlain narrates in his journals is  a riveting account of two military traditions, four Frenchmen and sixty Indians,  doing their best to synchronize their skills.

When they arrived at the Mohawk barricade they were met by 200 warriors in tight ranks, dressed in wooden armor. “They advanced slowly to meet us with a gravity and assurance that I greatly admired” Champlain wrote.

He remained hidden until the Mohawk were about fifty yards from their enemy.  Finally he emerged alone in his burnished steel cuirass and helmet. The Mohawks stared at him in amazement. As a Mohawk leader raised his bow, Champlain fired his gun, killing two  chiefs in quick succession.  His enemies were stunned, but they fought back.  When a third chief was shot by one of Champlain’s soldiers, the Mohawk warriors retreated, shattered.

 As we've so often seen through history, shock and awe did not result in peace.  It changed the way that Indians waged war, forever: from army formations that had kept casualty rates low,  to the skulking surprise attacks closer to modern terrorism. 

The battles between Champlain and the Iroquois did not end.  In a second battle, a year later, as he fired his first shot, Champlain was hit by a Mohawk arrow that split the tip of his ear and entered his neck.  For twenty five years after  the Indians of the St. Lawrence Valley recognized the scar on his ear and touched it as if it were a talisman.

The Mohawks did make peace overtures toward the French right after these two battles.  But from the horrific torture of Mohawk prisoners, which Champlain describes in graphic detail his journals, it’s clear the bitter history between the Indians ran deep.  Champlain was never able to figure out a way to co-operate  with the Iroquois without alienating his other Indian allies.

Contrary to Wikipedia, it is generally accepted by most ethnohistorians that  the war between the Iroquois and the French was inevitable, and probably would have been worse.  What's clear, if nothing else, is that Champlain always thought of his enemies as equals.  
 
As it turns out  the Indian legend about him may not have been far off.  There have always been rumours through history that Champlain was the illegitimate son of Henri IV, one of the most progressive, humanist monarchs in European history. There may never be any actual proof, but Hackett Fischer makes a strong case for the strong possibility that these rumours were true.

It's a fascinating tale, Quebec’s founding father, a philosopher-king’s bastard.  So many of the places Champlain discovered in northern Quebec are  still relatively unpopulated, and still surrounded in overwhelming natural beauty. Who knows whether Hackett Fischer’s new book will get the same attention as his last.  But if I were him, I wouldn't  sell the film option for cheap.