We have already mentioned the names of the Frenchmen who betrayed Champlain, particularly Etienne Brule, Le Baillif, Pierre Reye and Marsolet.  Let us examine their conduct.  Etienne Brule, in his capacity of interpreter, had rendered many good services to his compatriots.  Unfortunately, his private actions while dwelling with the Hurons were not above reproach, and he would certainly have been compelled to expiate his offences had he not been adopted as one of their family.  Brule worked for the benefit of the Hurons, and their gratitude towards a good officer perhaps outweighed their memory of an injury.  On retiring from the Huron country in 1629, Brule went to Tadousac, where he entered the service of Kirke, and some years after he was killed by a savage.

Marsolet’s case is nearly identical with that of Brule, although it is not proved that he was as licentious during the time that he lived with the Algonquins.  He and Brule asserted that they were compelled by Kirke to serve under the British flag.  Champlain severely blamed their conduct, saying:  “Remember that God will punish you if you do not amend your lives.  You have lost your honour.  Wherever you will go, men will point at you, saying:  ’These are the men who have threatened their king and sold their country.’  It would be preferable to die than to live on in this manner, as you will suffer the remorse of a bad conscience.”  To this they replied:  “We well know that in France we should be hanged.  We are sorry for what has happened, but it is done and we must drain the cup to the bottom, and resolve never to return to France.”  Champlain answered them:  “If you are captured anywhere, you will run the risk of being chastised as you deserve.”

Nicholas Marsolet became a good citizen, and his family alliances were the most honourable.  Pierre Reye, a carriage maker, was a bad character, “One of the worst traitors, and wicked.”  His treason did not surprise any one, and nothing better was expected of him.  Le Baillif was not only vicious, but a thief.  On the night after the seizure by Kirke of the goods in store, he took from the room of Corneille de Vendremur, a clerk, one hundred livres in gold and money, a silver cup and some silk stockings.  He was suspected of having stolen from the chapel of the Lower Town, a silver chalice, the gift of Anne of Austria.  Though he was a Catholic, Le Baillif ate food on days of abstinence, in order to please the Protestants.  He treated the French as if they were dogs.  “I shall abandon him,” says Champlain, “to his fate, awaiting the day of his punishment for his swearings, cursings and impieties.”

The treachery of these four men greatly affected Champlain, who was at a loss to understand how those to whom he had given food and shelter could be so ungrateful; but their conduct, however reprehensible, played no part in the loss of the colony.  Kirke employed them to further his purposes without giving them any substantial reward.