THE FRENCH COLONIES IN NORTH AMERICA
"The French empire in the New World has vanished, leaving behind it
ineffaceable monuments of the grand political conception of which it
formed part."[239] Frenchmen were amongst the earliest to be roused by
the discoveries of Columbus, Cabot, and Vasco da Gama; but it was not
until the sixth year of the sixteenth century that any real attempt at
discovery was made. In that year, 1506, Denys of Harfleur sailed across
the Atlantic, hoping to reach the East, but finding instead the great
Gulf of St Lawrence. He was not the only adventurer, for Aubert of
Dieppe followed two years later and astonished his countrymen by
bringing to France some natives of North America. Baron de Léry was the
first to see the advantages of colonisation, and long before Sir Walter
Raleigh was born the quick-witted Frenchman had planned within his
fertile brain a new France beyond the sea. He attempted to carry out his
purpose in 1518, but it was bound to fail, for the time was not yet ripe
for a French colony, since France itself was still unsettled and
imperfectly concentrated. Francis I., realising the advantages gained by
his rival Charles V. from the rich mines of Peru, employed Verrazano, a
Venetian, to "discover new lands by the ocean." He sailed in January
1524, and first reached that part of America now known as the Carolinas,
and then coasted as far north as Newfoundland. "Sayling northeast for
the space of 150 leagues," Verrazano writes, "we approached to the land
that in times past was discovered by the Britons, which is in fiftie
degrees. Having now spent all our provision and victuals, and having
discovered about 700 leagues and more of new countries, and being
furnished with water and wood, we concluded to return into France."[240]
[Illustration: QUEBEC FROM POINT LEVY IN 1761 _From an
engraving by R. Short._]
The year 1534 is the most memorable of all concerning those early French
voyages; it is a year of the very greatest importance in the history of
both France and North America; from this time may be dated the beginning
of New France, for now Jacques Cartier made his first voyage to the St
Lawrence. He found that the people had "great store of Mushe-milions,
Pompions, Gourds, Cucumbers, Peasen and Beanes of every colour.... There
groweth also a certaine kind of herbe, whereof in Sommer they make great
provision for all the yeere, ... and onely men use it, and first they
cause it to be dried in the sunne, then weare it about their neckes
wrapped in a little beast's skinne made like a little bagge, with a
hollow peece of stone or wood like a pipe: then when they please they
make pouder of it, and then put it in one of the ends of the said Cornet
or pipe, and laying a cole of fire upon it, at the other ende sucke so
long, that they fill their bodies full of Smoke, till that it commeth
out of their mouth and nostrils, even as out of the Tonnell of a
chimney.... We our selves have tryed the same smoke and having put it in
our mouthes, it seemed almost as hot as Pepper."[241] On his return to
St Malo, Cartier brought with him some Indian children as a proof of the
success of his enterprise. He was not content with this voyage, and in
the following year sailed again to this land of promise. On this
occasion he penetrated still further up the St Lawrence, bringing his
ship to anchor beneath the cliffs where now stands the city of Quebec.
"It is called," he writes, "Stadacona, ... & beyond, is as faire and
plaine as ever was seen."[242] This second voyage was marked by the
naming of his discoveries, and it is recorded that the new found lands
were by him called New France. Six years later Cartier sailed again to
the West, associated with a royal officer of the name of De Roberval.
Cartier started first and was met by his superior when returning in
disgust. De Roberval, with the title of Lord of Norumbega, proceeded as
he was bound to establish a colony, but by 1542 he proved unsuccessful
owing to the insufficiency of supplies and his own brutal despotism.
There can be little doubt that all concerned in De Roberval's venture
were deeply disappointed with its disastrous failure; its chief interest
lies in the fact that it marks the end of the prologue of this drama of
discovery, and the curtain was rung down not to rise again for half a
century.
In the year celebrated for the Edict of Nantes, the Treaty of Vervins
and the death of Philip II., the French once again started their
attempts to colonise Canada. In that year, 1598, the Marquis de la Roche
established a small settlement of convicts on Sable Island, which lies
off the coast of Nova Scotia. The settlers, however, were incapable,
the callous nobleman sailed away to sunny France, and the unhappy
survivors were left to quarrel among themselves, till eleven only of the
original forty remained alive to be rescued after five long years of
misery and starvation. The spirit of adventure was not crushed, and in
1599 Chauvin, a sea captain, and Pontgravé, a St Malo merchant, obtained
a patent to colonise Canada, and so established a settlement at
Tadoussac. Their object was to monopolise the lucrative fur trade,
rather than to establish any permanent colony. Four years later De
Chastes, a grey-haired veteran of the civil wars, associated himself
with Pontgravé, and they were fortunate in obtaining the services of
Samuel Champlain, whose name is the greatest in the history of French
colonisation. Almost immediately the small association of Chastes was
amalgamated with another under De Monts, a Huguenot nobleman of the
King's household, and together in 1604 they entered the Bay of Fundy. In
the next year Port Royal was established in Nova Scotia on Annapolis
Basin, and the fur traders passed the winter there under the leadership
of Champlain. Supplies were brought out in 1606 by an expedition, which
was accompanied by Lescarbot the historian, but, as De Monts' patent was
cancelled in 1607, Port Royal was abandoned.
The French colonies differed in many respects from the British, but in
one particular most essentially. The story of the British settlements
which has already been told is the story of the progress of communities;
in the case of the French colonies the history is really composed of a
long series of entrancing biographies. The record of Canada from 1608 to
1635 is in fact the biography of Samuel Champlain. His first exploit
was the erection of a _habitation_ at Quebec in 1608, his two main
objects being to support exploration and encourage missionary work. He
thus established the French nation in Canada less than twelve months
after the settlement of the British in Virginia; the two rival nations,
therefore, started their great work of colonisation at practically the
same moment. The progress and results of their settlements resembled
each other in no single item. Not content with founding Quebec, the
adventurous Frenchmen left Pontgravé to encourage commerce and pushed up
the St Lawrence. In 1609 he discovered the Lake that still bears his
name; and for the first time came into direct hostile contact with the
warriors of the Five Nations, whom he defeated at Ticonderoga. In the
same year he returned to France, but re-sailed to Canada in 1610,
leaving a few months afterwards for his native country. On landing in
France he was dismayed to find that his patron, Henry of Navarre, had
been assassinated by the fanatic Ravaillac in the streets of Paris. The
year 1611 found the intrepid voyager once again in Canada preparing the
way for a French settlement at Montreal.
The great change in France, and indeed throughout Europe, caused by
Henry IV.'s untimely end, was felt with almost equal intensity in the
far-distant region of Canada. A new system was immediately inaugurated,
and that most unsatisfactory Regent, Marie de Medici, appointed the
Count de Soissons as supreme Governor of New France. Before the Count
could take over his unaccustomed duties, he died, and the Prince de
Condé was nominated in his place. Champlain was at once created his
deputy, with the main work of regulating the fur-trade and keeping some
semblance of order amongst the turbulent French backwoodsmen.
Champlain's objects, however, were neither commercial nor pecuniary. His
ambition soared above the merely lucrative, and he looked to the
increase of French possessions, and if possible by means of the great
waterways to the discovery of a short route to China and the East. It
was for this latter reason that he was persuaded by Nicholas Vignau, one
of his companions who had passed the previous winter among the northern
Indians, to explore toilfully the waters of the upper Ottawa in 1613;
Vignau having concocted a story about an outlet to the east, a
fabrication which, when discovered after many hardships, nearly cost him
his life.
It is an interesting fact that behind all these adventurous expeditions
undertaken by either the English or the French, there was always
something of the missionary spirit. The first French attempt to convert
the Indians was in 1615, when the Recollet branch of the Franciscan
Order sent out a few brethren to undertake the hazardous task of
instructing the savages in the doctrines of the Christian faith. The
chief of this worthy band was Le Caron, who, taking his life in his
hands, penetrated far into the dangerous Huron country. Ten years had
still to elapse before the Jesuits embarked on a duty which, though in
many ways erroneously carried out, has rightly received the admiration
of the world. It so happened, in 1625, that the Viceroy of Canada, the
Duc de Ventadour, was closely connected with the Jesuit order; and he
celebrated the beginning of his term of office by introducing Jesuit
priests and supporting them from his private purse. The difference
between the newcomers and the Franciscans, who had already bought their
experience, was very marked. The Franciscans, although devoted
missionaries, were not bigots, and they claimed no religious monopoly;
the Jesuits, on the contrary, imported religious despotism. The coming
of the Jesuit fathers had two effects which may perhaps seem
contradictory. They stimulated in many ways the progress of Canada and
did much for her advance; but equally they retarded the true evolution
of the young nation. They were brave men who were ready to sacrifice
themselves for the cause; no body of men have ever shown to the savages
such tactfulness and diplomacy as these members of the Society of Jesus.
As map-makers and discoverers they were pre-eminent. On the other hand
they were the upholders of exclusiveness and the bitterest enemies of
freedom; they formulated a rigid system which was necessarily inimical
to the expansion of a youthful community. Above all, deeming the
Huguenots to be heretics, they excluded from Canada the very people who
might have made the French in Canada a great nation. In supporting the
Jesuits in this action the French Government did itself a double injury,
for by debarring the best artizans of France from French colonies, it
turned them in after years to the British settlements, and they thus
helped to advance those very colonies which were the inveterate foes of
their native land.
Between the years 1620 and 1627 the government of Canada passed through
numerous hands, including those of the Duc de Montmorenci and the
already mentioned Duc de Ventadour; but had it not been for the striking
qualities of Champlain, all must have failed. These years were troubled
by continuous squabbles, and it was only Champlain's steadfastness that
saved the colony. At last in 1627 affairs began to improve. Richelieu
had now become a power in France, and for the better regulation of
Canada he formed the "Company of the One Hundred Associates." Even now
the difficulties of Champlain appeared overwhelming, not the least being
the war between England and France. Richelieu had successfully defeated
the Huguenots and their English allies, and the "weathercock fancy" of
Buckingham had been incapable of devising any further scheme for the
protection of La Rochelle. The war, however, lingered on, and although
it was extremely languid in Europe, it was waged with more smartness in
the New World. David Kirke, nominally a captain in the British service,
but really little more than a pirate, with his three sons entered the St
Lawrence in July 1628; they attacked the French trading station of
Tadoussac, and in the following year starved Champlain into surrender at
Quebec. The victory proved a barren one, for before it had actually been
accomplished, Richelieu had brought about a treaty with Charles I. at St
Germain-en-Laye, by which the newly conquered Canada was restored to the
French in 1632.
Champlain returned to his adopted country in May 1633, and for the next
two years he controlled the affairs of the French Company until his
death on Christmas Day, 1635. New France then lost the man to whom she
owed her all, and the French nation was deprived of one who has been
fitly called "the Father of French Colonisation." From thirty-six years
of age to the time of his death, Champlain had given up the whole of
his energies to increase the power of his native country and to
encourage the welfare and prosperity of New France. He was a hardy
explorer, an excellent administrator, and one of the most trustworthy
writers of his time. His ambitions were lofty, his foresight keen and
intelligent, while the whole of his life was pure and resolute. His
biography is one of the most interesting among the many entrancing
stories of colonial founders, and his memory receives the lasting
respect and honour which his great works naturally demand, not only from
the Frenchman or French Canadian, but from posterity throughout the
civilised world.
Champlain was succeeded by Monsieur de Montmagny, who arrived at Quebec
in 1636. Six years later the first permanent settlement was established
at Montreal, which was at first entirely of a religious character; this
was soon to be followed by another at Fort Richelieu at the point where
the Richelieu River joins the St Lawrence. These new settlements may be
taken as an indication of the progress and general advance of the French
Empire in the West. But as a matter of fact up to the year 1663 the
government of Canada was far from being satisfactory, for the "Company
of One Hundred Associates" had been continually checked by Indian wars,
and was by no means capable of creating a great nation. Colbert, the
successor of Mazarin, and chief minister of Louis XIV., realised the
incapacity of the Company, and in 1663 deprived it of all rights. It is
not surprising that the minister should take this action if a colony's
prosperity is to be judged by its population. It has already been shown
how remarkably the English settlements increased in number; but the
French colony starting at practically the same time had in 1663 a meagre
population of 2500. Father Christian le Clercq, writing at that time,
says, "The colony far from increasing began to diminish. Some returned
to France, others were taken and killed by the Indians. Many died of
misery; the clearing and cultivation of lands advanced but little, and
they were obliged to expect all from France."[243] The Jesuits were to a
certain extent to be blamed for this lack of population; they had for
some years been expending their energies upon the spiritual needs of
Canada, but what Canada wanted, as a new colony, was what the English
settlements had got, married men and women who willingly found new
homes, whose children grew up around them, and whose aims were to create
no temporary but permanent abiding-places. The Jesuits supplied rather
both by teaching and example martyrs and virgins, whose history is
filled with heroic records, but whose actual value to a new colony was
extremely slight. The mission of Le Moyne to the Iroquois in 1653 and
the establishment of those from St Sulpice under Maisonneuve at
Montreal, are both fine examples of reckless devotion and
self-sacrifice, but the outlook on life of these religious enthusiasts
was an erroneous one.
The clear-sighted judgment and the financial genius of Colbert was
needed to remedy the mistakes in the work which had been started so
rashly by Richelieu. As Le Clercq recorded, the progress of New France
required "a more powerful arm than that of the gentlemen of the
Company."[244] Colbert, in 1663, supplied the "more powerful arm" by
making Canada a royal province, and in the following year creating the
"Company of the West." The members of the Company claimed to be the
Seigniors of New France, with the right of nominating the Council for
the government of Canada. The Crown, however, insisted on retaining the
privileges of appointing the Governor and the Intendant. As soon as
Canada became a Crown Colony with such a splendid guide as Colbert the
progress and prosperity of the settlers were assured.
The government of Canada was purely despotic under the all-powerful
Governor, Intendant, and Supreme Council, and the settlers were never
allowed the political freedom exercised by the English colonists in New
England or the Southern States. The law was the customary law of Paris,
added to which were certain ordinances and, on occasions, royal edicts
which received the ratification of the Council. This body had both
legislative and judicial functions, and for the better maintenance of
peace and order minor law-courts were established at Quebec, Three
Rivers, and Montreal. In addition to these courts the seigniors had in
some cases the right to try crimes that were committed on their estates,
and nominally to pass the extreme penalty of death upon their vassals.
The Governor controlled the armed forces, and was in continual conflict
with the Intendant, for each was jealous of the other. The latter was
the King's steward, a civilian, and usually a member of the legal
profession; he was President of the Council, and by controlling the
sinews of war was often more powerful than the Governor. The Bishop sat
in Council with these two, and was spiritually supreme in name and fact.
The great defects of Canada's political system were over-centralisation
and lack of popular representation. The feudal system had been
transferred to Canadian territory, and by its means the seigniors
attempted to tie the peasant to the soil. The whole scheme was that of a
benevolent despot exercising power over a closely restricted people; and
yet the system itself, which was purely artificial, proved the skill of
its originators, for under it the peasants of Canada lived happy and
contented lives for almost a hundred years after they had passed under
British rule.
This scheme of government as devised by Colbert and Louis XIV. was put
into execution by the Marquis de Tracy, who arrived at Quebec in 1665 as
Lieutenant-General of all the French forces in America. His coadjutors
were Courcelles, the Governor, and Talon, the Intendant. These men made
numerous expeditions against the Indians, and in particular against the
Iroquois; but their work was completely overshadowed by that of the next
Governor. The name of Count Frontenac has been ever dear to the French
Canadian from the moment that he came to administer New France in 1672.
He is one of those great figures in history who are perhaps particularly
human; he was not a cold image, but composed of warm flesh and blood; he
was neither a villain nor a saint. His great merits are to a certain
extent balanced by his great defects; his temper was most violent, his
manner haughty, pretentious, and arrogant. It is said with some truth
that he was not altogether clean-handed in the methods he employed in
repairing his fortunes; but grave as his faults were, they were weighed
down on the other side not so much by his kindness, his firm alliance
with those he regarded as his friends, but because his heart warmed to
the land and the people of the land to whom he had been sent as a guide
and governor. Frontenac's memory remains a happy one, because, like
Champlain, he believed in the great future of the Daughter of the Snows.
Canada was unknown to him when he was fifty years of age; when he was
appointed Governor for the second time he was twenty years older; but
this long roll of years did not prevent him from adapting himself to his
surroundings, and with such excellent effect that at the time of his
death in 1698 he left Canada on the highroad to prosperity and
greatness. In particular he must be praised for ridding Canada of
murdering savages, as a means towards which he established, in 1673, an
outpost at Fort Frontenac.[245] His return to France, however,
emboldened the Seneca Indians, the most numerous of the Five Nations, to
make frequent raids until his restoration to office in 1689. Five years
later Frontenac began his great work of suppression, which was marked by
an act of ferocious brutality in 1695, which has deeply stained the old
man's reputation. In the same year he retook Fort Frontenac, which had
been lost, and twelve months later was so successful against the
Iroquois that he not only humbled their pride but actually won their
respect. Ruthless he may have been; brutal in a time when brutality was
common; but whatever his faults, he came to Canada when Canada cried
aloud for such a man, and had the future governors been of the
character and possessed the daring spirit of Frontenac, the Great
Dominion might still have been the New France in the West.
Meantime, brave, devoted adventurers and Jesuits had been endeavouring
to extend the French dominions west and south-west. It has already been
mentioned that Champlain, in 1613, had been tempted to make an arduous
journey to discover by means of the numerous waterways some route to
China. The Great Lakes were first explored; but it was found that none
of these vast sheets of water contained the tantalising secret that was
interesting and engaging the attention of so many European seamen. From
Lake Michigan, then called the Lake of Illinois, the discoverers moved
to the narrows of Lake Huron and onward to the Fox River, following the
course of which they came to Lake Winnebago. Moving still farther south,
they found that a narrow strip of land divided them from another
waterway, the Wisconsin, and that in turn they were destined to discover
was a tributary of the mighty Mississippi. But some adventurers were
more daring than their brethren, and instead of clinging to their canoes
and following the course of streams, boldly skirted the territory of the
dreaded Five Nations and found the "Beautiful" River, or Ohio.
As early as 1635 Jean Nicollet had reached Lake Michigan, and so
successful was he in his explorations of the rivers and lakes that it
has been supposed that he was the original white discoverer of the
Mississippi. Plausible as this would seem, historians have conclusively
disproved his claims; and that honour must be divided between the two
famous explorers Joliet and Marquette.[246] Louis Joliet was a layman,
though connected by early training with the Jesuits; he was a Canadian
born, and had been employed by the Intendant Talon to discover copper in
the neighbourhood of Lake Superior. His companion, Jacques Marquette,
was a Jesuit in priest's orders; he was a man of pure and saintly life,
and within his delicate body there burnt a fiery spirit of endeavour to
convert, a spirit which consumed him, as it were, so that his life was
but a brief one in labouring for his faith. He landed in Canada in 1666;
two years later he was sent forward into the almost unknown wilds and
established himself on Lake Superior, teaching both the Hurons and the
Illinois. It was indeed from the latter that he first heard of the
Mississippi. Being forced by the savages to retire from this outpost, he
and his little following took refuge in 1670 at the mission station of
St Ignace, now known as Mackinaw. It was here that Marquette determined
to make an expedition for the discovery of the great river of which he
had heard. He has left an account of his journeyings written from
memory, as unfortunately he lost his papers on his return. "I embarked
with M. Joliet, who had been chosen to conduct this enterprise, on the
13th May 1673, with five other Frenchmen, in two bark canoes. We laid in
some Indian corn and smoked beef for our voyage. We first took care,
however, to draw from the Indians all the information we could
concerning the countries through which we had designed to travel, and
drew up a map, on which we marked down the rivers, nations, and points
of the compass to guide us in our journey."[247] The discoverers
followed the route laid down by others as far as Lake Winnebago, but no
white man had up to that time crossed over to the river Wisconsin.
Canoeing down that stream, hardly realising where fortune was leading
them, the plucky Jesuit and his companions were carried out on the face
of the broad waters of the Mississippi on 17th June 1673. "We met from
time to time monstrous fish, which struck so violently against our
canoes that at first we took them to be large trees, which threatened to
upset us. We saw also a hideous monster; his head was like that of a
tiger, his nose was sharp and somewhat resembled a wild cat; his beard
was long; his ears stood upright; the colour of his head was grey, and
his neck black."[248] But even this terrible apparition did not
discourage them, and they still pushed on, hoping at first that the
great river would bear them into the Gulf of California. They passed the
mouths of the Illinois, the Missouri, and the Ohio, and came to the
Arkansas; here they learnt their mistake. "We judged by the compass that
the Mississippi discharged itself into the Gulf of Mexico. It would,
however, have been more agreeable if it had discharged into the South
Sea or Gulf of California."[249] They turned back, therefore, having
found out what they wanted to know, and "we considered that the
advantage of our travels would be altogether lost to our nation if we
fell into the hands of the Spaniards, from whom we could expect no other
treatment than death or slavery."[250] Neither Marquette nor Joliet
reaped any great advantage during their lifetime for their plucky
endeavour, but they have had and will have the respect of those who
come after them. Marquette made one more voyage on the stream that was
his own. His burning zeal for the faith made him set out in the winter
of 1674-5 to carry the Christian religion to the Indians of the Illinois
River. He returned to Lake Michigan in the May of 1675, but he was a
dying man. Death came suddenly, and his companions rapidly interred him
far away from his friends; but so great was the love inspired by this
faithful priest amongst the savages that they fetched his bones and laid
them, with every sign of affection, respect, and grief, in the little
mission-chapel where he had laboured for the faith.
Marquette was followed by a man whose name is even better known, but who
was cast in a different mould. Réné Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle,
was born at Rouen and had landed in Canada in the same year as
Marquette. His object was to discover a route to the East, and the name
that he gave to his seignory, La Chine, testifies to this desire. He
began his work of discovery in 1669, and in the next two years he passed
from Lakes Ontario and Erie right through the Illinois country, finally
discovering the Ohio. In 1675 he took up his seignory on the Cataraqui
River at Fort Frontenac. He was only thirty-two years of age, but he had
already made himself famous. He was a man of strong character, and as
such had many enemies amongst his fellow French Canadians; his want of
sympathy turned men against him, and his want of tact wounded their
feelings. To the Jesuits he was most unwelcome, for they recognised in
him a rival discoverer; with the merchants and traders he was no less
unpopular, a fact which was possibly intensified by his seignory being
one of the best positions in New France for pecuniary gain. He was in
every way an austere man, solitary and self-communing; and as his mind
was filled with ambitions and even statesmanlike conceptions for New
France, it is not surprising that the trading element and even his own
followers failed to understand him. From 1675 to 1677 this man of
extraordinary energy employed himself in commerce with the Indians by
means of vessels of his own construction on Lake Ontario; but such work
was too petty for La Salle. He therefore, in 1678, obtained from Louis
XIV. permission "to labour at the discovery of the Western parts of New
France through which to all appearance a way may be found to
Mexico,"[251] in addition to which La Salle was strengthened in his
possession of Fort Frontenac and was granted the privilege of
constructing forts if necessary on his expeditions. On his enterprises
he was accompanied by Henri de Tonty, an Italian officer and ever
faithful to La Salle, and by Father Hennepin, a brave Flemish friar,
whose overwhelming vanity tempted him in later years to try to rob his
leader of the honour of first reaching the sea by the Mississippi River.
The early efforts of La Salle were unsatisfactory. He built a fort at
Niagara and constructed a vessel called the _Griffin_, which foundered
on Lake Michigan and left him in a hostile country swarming with
savages, without supplies, and with mutinous followers. Nevertheless he
kept on and descended the Illinois River, determined to reach the Gulf
of Mexico. In 1680 his men began to desert, but Tonty and a faithful few
assisted him to construct Fort Crèvecoeur on the Illinois. Here the
discoverer left his lieutenant for a time while he returned to Canada
for supplies. The men mutinied, abandoned the fort, and followed La
Salle with the intention of murdering him. Meantime he had sent out an
expedition under Father Hennepin which had been captured by the Sioux
Indians on the Upper Mississippi in what is now Minnesota. The Flemish
friar and his followers were rescued by a Canadian backwoodsman, Du
Luth, and Hennepin returned to France to write his account of the
Mississippi.
Father Membré has left a record of La Salle's great expedition. "M. La
Salle having arrived safely at Miamies on the 3rd of November 1681,
began with his ordinary activity and vast mind to make all preparations
for his departure.... The whole party consisted of about fifty-four
persons, including the Sieur de Tonty and the Sieur Dautray, the son of
the late Sieur Bourdon."[252] The expedition safely passed the mouths of
the Missouri and Ohio; after building a fort, the adventurers reached
the Arkansas, where they were welcomed by the Indians, who knew nothing
of white men. "The Sieur de la Salle took possession of this country
with great ceremony. He planted a cross and set up the king's arms, at
which the Indians showed a great joy.... On our return from the sea we
found that they had surrounded the cross with a palisade."[253] Passing
still farther south, "we arrived on the 6th of April at a point where
the river divides into three channels. The Sieur de la Salle divided his
party the next day into three bands, to go and explore them. He took the
western, the Sieur Dautray the southern, the Sieur Tonty ... the middle
one."[254] On the 9th of April the three parties met on the shores of
the Gulf of Mexico. This success was marked by the ceremony of planting
the cross and raising the arms of France. La Salle took possession of
the river and all the country round in the name of the king, and amidst
a volley of muskets a leaden plate inscribed with the action and the
names of the discoverers was deposited in the ground. Such was the
foundation of the French in Louisiana. La Salle and his party returned
to the North, but he was not the man to rest upon his laurels, for in
the autumn of 1682 and the spring of 1683 he is to be found busily
establishing a French colony on the Illinois. Fort Louis was built on a
rocky summit and promised to be a most important station in the future,
always on the one condition that the connection with Canada was in no
way broken, or even threatened.
Perpetual envy and jealousy tended to keep Canada weak and the French in
the West powerless. When La Salle returned he found himself surrounded
by enemies, and without his friend and supporter, Count Frontenac, who
had retired to France. Seeing no chance of accomplishing anything in
Canada, La Salle sailed to Europe to put his version of the story before
King Louis. He reached Versailles at exactly the right moment for his
fortunes. France and Spain in 1683 were again on the verge of war; and
even before La Salle's arrival, Seignelay, the son of the late grim
Colbert, had proposed to Louis a scheme for the seizure of some port on
the Gulf of Mexico so as to discomfit Spain. La Salle was heard with
respect and attention, and was, in fact, welcomed as the very man
required to carry out the prearranged plans of the king and his
minister. All La Salle's possessions in Canada were restored, and he was
commissioned to conduct a party for the purpose of colonising some strip
of territory upon the Mexican Gulf. The scheme was from the outset
hopeless. La Salle may have seen that it was the last toss of the dice,
fortune or ruin. He may have been blinded by his successful discovery;
but it is impossible to imagine that a man who had always kept his ends
clearly in view, and who had accurately measured the means to attain
them, should now have embarked blindly upon so hazardous a task.
Whatever his private opinions were, he readily undertook the leadership
in conjunction with Admiral Beaujeu. The party embarked in four vessels,
and sailed from La Rochelle on July 24, 1684. At the very outset their
troubles began. One of the most important of the vessels carrying their
supplies was captured by a Spanish buccaneer. The other three ships
managed to reach San Domingo, where the little band of soldiers,
artizans, and women were kept in idleness for two months owing to their
leaders being stricken with fever. At last on January 1, 1685, La Salle
brought the expedition to the shores of Texas, where the colony was
settled within a palisade at a point called Fort St Louis. The distress
of the settlement was terrible, and still further intensified by the
realisation of their distance from Canada. In October, La Salle, driven
to despair, set out to discover a way to the outposts of the northern
colony. In March 1686 he was back again, but unsuccessful. Having rested
for a month, he once more started for Canada, but after wandering until
October he returned to the settlement utterly baffled. What was worse
still was that he found a heavy mortality amongst the colonists; out of
one hundred and eighty who had originally started he now had but
forty-five followers, and very few of these he could really trust. All
his ships were lost, escape to France was impossible, starvation stared
them in the face. The only thing to do was to try to cut a way through
to Canada. On January 7, 1687, La Salle, his brother, two of his
nephews, and half his party set out; mutiny was evident from the
beginning, and on March 19th, ambushed by his own men, the daring
explorer was murdered. His brother, one of his nephews, and Jontel, who
told the tale, escaped, and succeeded after terrible suffering in
reaching Canada.
Louis XIV. and his ministers were far too busy at home to care about the
death of one who had dared so much for France. The insane idea of Louis'
European policy blinded him to the prospects of an empire in the West,
which La Salle might, had he been properly supported, have made so
great. The people in authority in Canada were equally oblivious to the
loss of one of Canada's greatest sons. They were too envious of this
remarkable man who had done so much. One man, however, remembered his
old master. Henri de Tonty, the faithful friend, had set out in 1686 to
find this man whom he regarded with such affection. When he discovered
that La Salle had been murdered, he did what he knew his great leader
would have done and turned his attention to the rescue of the remnant at
Fort St Louis. His efforts were unavailing, for the Spaniards had
learnt, and from them Tonty heard, that the few who had remained on the
shores of Texas had been annihilated by the Indians. Thus the grandiose
schemes of La Salle appeared to end in failure, mystery, and death; but
like his forerunner Marquette, his name still lives in Canada, where the
names of his detractors have long since been forgotten. La Salle will be
remembered as one of the boldest explorers, as a man who, even above any
Englishman of his day, really grasped the imperial idea of a New France
beyond the sea. He was the first to realise the great conception of
uniting the French settlement from the snow-clad plains of Canada to the
sunny shores of Mexico; and he it was who saw that should this dream be
turned to reality, the Anglo-Saxon people would be confined to the
narrow strip along the coast, and the illimitable expanses of the North
American continent, with the enormous wealth of the West, would be the
inheritance of the Gallic race.
There were, however, a few Frenchmen who had glimmerings of the dream of
La Salle. As early as 1686 a party under Du Luth established a French
outpost between Lakes Huron and Erie. Eight years later La Mothe
Cadillac urged upon the French government the importance of holding this
post, which in fact controlled the outlet of the two lakes. The consent
of those in authority having been obtained, the French began in 1701 the
erection of the city of Detroit. The Iroquois at last realised what was
happening; they saw that, just as Fort Frontenac some years before had
very seriously curtailed their rights of hunting and had indeed
endangered their power, so now that they might again be trapped. To
prevent this, on July 19, 1701, they ceded their hunting grounds to the
King of England, retaining the right of free hunting. They were not
versed in European politics; nor did they know that the magnificent
Louis was gradually being ruined by William III. and Marlborough. The
war of the Spanish Succession, fought for the most part in the
Netherlands and Spain, had a vital effect upon those Iroquois nations of
the Western prairies. The victories of Marlborough brought to England
many possessions, and amongst them those lands which had been so
trustingly conceded in 1701.
The Treaty of Utrecht, although it brought peace after a long and
expensive war, may be said to mark a new epoch in the stories of both
British and French colonial expansion. This epoch is not one of peace in
the true sense; the actual fighting, when it occurred, was not always
sanctioned by the home government; but the period was one of aggression
on the part of the French in Canada and resistance on the part of the
British colonists along the Eastern seaboard.
FOOTNOTES:
[239] Bateson, _Cambridge Modern History_ (1905), vol. vii. p. 70.
[240] _Hakluyt's Voyages_ (1904), viii. 438.
[241] _Hakluyt's Voyages_ (1904), viii. p. 242.
[242] _Ibid._, p. 244.
[243] Le Clercq, _First Establishment of the Faith in New France_
(1881), p. 52.
[244] Le Clercq, _First Establishment of the Faith in New France_
(1881), p. 52.
[245] The modern Kingston.
[246] These men were the first to explore the river, but it was
undoubtedly reached in 1659 by two fur traders, Radisson and Des
Grosseilliers.
[247] _French, Historical Collections of Louisiana_ (1850), Part II.
[248] _Ibid._
[249] _Ibid._
[250] _Ibid._
[251] Parkman, _La Salle_ (edition eleven), p. 112.
[252] French, _Historical Collections of Louisiana_ (1850), Part IV.
[253] _Ibid._
[254] French, _Historical Collections of Louisiana_ (1850), Part IV.