_The Great Enterprise Accomplished._
Scenes in the Arkansas Villages. Indian Hospitality. Barbarian
Splendor. Attractive Scenery. The Alarm. Its Joyful Issue. Genial
Character of La Salle. Erecting the Cross. Pleasant Visit to the
Koroas. The Two Channels. Perilous Attack. Humanity of La Salle. The
Sea Reached. Ceremonies of Annexation.
For several days La Salle and his party remained with their hospitable
friends the Arkansas Indians. On the 14th of March, 1682, La Salle took
possession of the country in the name of the king of France. He
invested the ceremony with all the pomp he could command. An immense
cross was raised in the centre of the village; and the Christian's God
was recognized with anthems, prayers and imposing religious rites.
Thousands of savages gathered around, gazing with delight upon the
scene so novel to them. They had no conception of its significance.
They supposed it a festival got up for their entertainment, as they
would got up a war-dance to please their guests. As the cross was
raised, Father Membré made some attempt to teach them the significance
of this emblem of the way of salvation through faith in an atoning
Saviour. He writes:
"During this time they showed that they relished what I said by
raising their eyes to heaven, and kneeling as if to adore. We also
saw them rubbing their hands over their bodies, after rubbing them
over the cross. In fine, on our return from the sea, we found that
they had surrounded the cross with a palisade."
On the 17th of the month, the explorers reëmbarked, and continued
their voyage down the river about eighteen miles, when they came to two
other villages of the Arkansas tribe. Here they were again received
with the utmost hospitality. Continuing their sunny voyage beneath
cloudless skies and upon a glassy stream for four days, they came to
quite a large lake formed by an expansion of the river. This sheet of
water seemed to be fringed with villages. There were forty on the east
side of the lake, and thirty-four on the west side, upon its banks. All
were picturesquely situated and, in the distance, presented an aspect
of much beauty.
The houses were well built, of clay mixed with straw baked in the sun.
The roofs were constructed of canes quite gracefully bent in the form
of a dome. Their beds or mats were raised on wooden bedsteads, and they
had many convenient articles of household furniture. The bark of a tree
furnished very fine white fibres, which they braided into blankets and
other articles of dress. The head chief was an absolute sovereign,
having the property and the lives of his subjects entirely at his
disposal. A retinue of slaves attended him. He was luxuriously clothed,
fed, and housed.
The village of the chief was at a little distance from the banks of the
lake. La Salle was quite sick, and unable to go up to the palace to pay
his respects to the monarch. He encamped upon the borders of the
expanded stream, and beneath the shade of his roof sought repose upon
his mat. He, however, sent Lieutenant Tonti and Father Membré with
presents to the chief. In return, several men were sent to La Salle,
munificently laden with provisions and other gifts. Soon after, the
king himself appeared in regal state. First came a master of
ceremonies, with six pioneers, to remove every obstruction from the
way, and to make the path level for the feet of royalty. They selected
a spot upon which the monarch was to give audience to his guests. The
ground was carefully smoothed, and carpeted with beautiful mats.
The monarch soon made his appearance. He was richly dressed in white
robes. Two officers preceded him, bearing plumes of gorgeously colored
feathers. He was followed by another official, bearing two large plates
of copper, highly polished. The king had the bearing of a gentleman. He
was grave, dignified, and courteous. Having ever been accustomed to
absolute command, he had that peculiar air of self-possession and
authority which seems to be the inheritance of those who can boast a
long line of illustrious ancestry.
It was the 22d day of March, 1682. The scene presented was in the
highest degree picturesque and beautiful. The widely expanded lake
glittered in the sunlight as placid as a mirror. The villages of the
Indians, clustered so thickly along the shores, were composed of
substantial dwellings, whose roofs of curved canes, thatched with thick
mats, were rounded into graceful domes. The barbarian splendor assumed
by the monarch, the group of French adventurers, with their Indian
companions, gathered near by, the thousands of the Taensa tribe, men,
women, and children, standing at a respectful distance, silently gazing
upon the scene, the little fleet of canoes upon the beach, and the
encampment hastily thrown up--these combined to open to the eye a
picture of peace and loveliness, which the pencil of the most skilful
artist might in vain attempt to rival.
It did indeed seem then and there, as though God had intended this for
a happy world--for a world where his children might live together in
paternal love, and with the interchange of the kindliest sympathies.
Though in the early spring, the foliage beneath those sunny skies was
in full leaf, and the flowers in full bloom.
"The whole country," writes Father Membré, "is covered with palm trees,
laurels of two kinds, plums, peaches, mulberry, apple, and pear trees
of every variety. There are also five or six kinds of nut trees, some
of which bear nuts of extraordinary size. They also gave us several
kinds of dried fruit to taste. We found them large and good. They have
also many varieties of fruit trees which I never saw in Europe. The
season was however too early to allow us to see the fruit. We observed
vines already out of blossom."
The interview between the monarch and La Salle passed off very
pleasantly. It was conducted mainly by signs. Smiles and presents were
interchanged. For four days the voyagers remained the guests of these
friendly people. They rambled through their villages, entered their
dwellings, and were abundantly feasted. The natives seemed very
amiable, quite intelligent, and were far in advance, in civilization,
of the nations or tribes farther north. Father Membré was much pleased
with their candor, and with the clearness with which he thought they
comprehended his instructions. They readily accepted his teaching of
God; and apparently comprehended, without any difficulty, the plan of
salvation through an atoning Saviour.
In truth, this doctrine is apparently the most simple and the most
powerful which can be presented to the savage. All over the world, the
necessity of an atonement for sin seems to be implanted in the human
breast. And when the missionary teaches the savage that God, our
Heavenly Father, in the person of His Son has borne our sins in His own
body on the tree, the most ignorant can comprehend it, and the most
wicked can be moved by it.
On the 26th of March, La Salle and his companions, greatly refreshed by
their delightful visit, resumed their voyage down the river. They
descended very rapidly, by the aid of the current and the paddle.
Having sailed about forty miles, they saw in the distance below them, a
large wooden boat containing a number of Indians. The savages seemed
alarmed as they caught sight of the fleet of canoes coming down so
rapidly upon them. They plied their paddles with all diligence, and run
into the eastern shore.
La Salle, with his usual caution, landed upon the opposite bank. The
two parties gazed at each other across the rolling flood, a mile in
width. La Salle sent Lieutenant Tonti, in a canoe with several Indians,
to carry to the boatmen the calumet of peace. While the Indians plied
their paddles, he stood up in the canoe, waving toward the boatmen the
plumed badge of fraternity. As Lieutenant Tonti was crossing the river,
a large number of Indians were seen running in, from various
directions, and crowding the banks. When within arrow-shot of the
shore, he stopped, still presenting the calumet, which all the tribes
seemed to recognize and respect.
All suspicion was allayed. The savages, unapprehensive of any
treachery, crowded their periagua, and the boat and the canoe, with the
inmates on terms of the kindest fellowship, passed over to the French
on the western bank. The two parties blended as brothers. The Indians
were fishermen of the Natches tribe. They had a large village about
nine miles inland, east of the river. Without any hesitancy La Salle,
Father Membré, and a few others, accepted an invitation to accompany
them to their village.
There are some men so frank, genial, kind-hearted that they win
affection at sight. La Salle was such a man. With no special effort to
make friends, his nature was such that the savage and the civilized man
alike were immediately won by the fascination of his presence. Father
Membré gives frequent testimony to these peculiar attractions of the
chivalric pioneer. On this occasion he writes:
"We slept in the wigwams of these savages. They gave us as kindly a
welcome as we could desire. The Chevalier La Salle, whose very air,
engaging manners, and captivating mind, everywhere commanded
respect and love, so impressed the hearts of these Indians that
they did not know how to treat us well enough. They would gladly
have kept us with them permanently."
For three days La Salle and his companions enjoyed the hospitality of
these friendly natives. About thirty miles below the Natches Indians,
there was another powerful tribe called the Koroas. They were friends
and allies of the Natches. A courier was despatched to inform the chief
of the Koroas of the arrival of the distinguished strangers, and to
invite him to come and share in giving them a suitable welcome. He
hastened to Natches with an imposing retinue of his head men. They also
paid prompt homage to the dignity and the attractions of La Salle.
Again a cross was erected, while admiring multitudes gazed admiringly
upon the religious and civil pomp with which the ceremony was invested.
A plate was attached to the cross, upon which was engraved the arms of
Louis XIV. The Indians were delighted with the show, and with the
memorial thus left of the visit; though they could not comprehend the
significance of the rite as taking possession of their country in the
name of the King of France.
La Salle and his companions returned to their canoes. The Chickasaw
Indian who had accompanied them from their encampment near the mouth of
the Ohio, and which they had named Camp Prudhomme, from the man who had
been lost and found there, remained at the village of the Natches
Indians. The journey of a few days would take him to his own tribe.
The chief of the Koroas, having invited La Salle to visit his village,
embarked with his suite, in their wooden boats, and descended the river
in company with the French in their birch canoes. A sail of about four
hours swept them down to the village, which was called Akoroa. It was
beautifully situated on an eminence, commanding a view of a wide-spread
and exceedingly fertile prairie, with large fields of corn, whose
spear-like leaves were already waving in the gentle breeze.
The Indians were fond of ceremony. They held a council, presented the
calumet, smoked the pipe of fraternity, made speeches which were but
poorly understood, and exchanged presents. After a short tarry, the
voyage was again resumed. The chief furnished them with a pilot,
telling them that it would still require a voyage of ten days to reach
the sea, and that the river broke into several channels or independent
streams as it approached the Gulf. As the Indians considered thirty or
forty miles a good day's voyage in descending the river, it was
estimated that there was a journey of between three and four hundred
miles still before them. They were also informed that there were
numerous tribes upon the lower river, but that they were generally
well-disposed.
On the 2d of April, when the canoes had descended the river about
eighteen miles below Akoroa, the river branched into two arms or
channels, with an island between, which they estimated to be one
hundred and eighty miles in length. They had been directed to take the
channel on the left. But it so chanced that there was a heavy river
fog, and they did not see it. La Salle's canoe was in the advance, and
the canoe which held the guide happened to be far in the rear. Though
the keen eyes of the Indian pierced the fog, and he did all in his
power by signs to show them that they were wrong, the whole fleet
followed its leader, and were swept along in the channel on the right.
The reason why they were cautioned to take the left branch, was that
the eight or ten tribes on the western banks were friendly, and would
make them no trouble, while those upon the eastern branch were
ferocious, and would be likely to attack them. They soon experienced
the wisdom of the advice which had been given them.
On the 2d of April, when they had descended the river about one hundred
and twenty miles, they saw a number of Indians on the bank of the
river, fishing. The moment the savages caught sight of the fleet of
canoes they fled. Immediately the forest seemed filled with the clamor
of hideous war-whoops the beating of drums, and all other sounds of
hostility. The branch of the river which they were descending, was here
compressed into a narrow channel. A dense forest fringed both banks. It
was evident that there were populous villages near by, for the warriors
were seen rapidly gathering, as they ran from tree to tree to get good
positions to overwhelm the canoes with their arrows.
The bows were very strong. The muscular arms of the Indians would throw
an arrow with almost the velocity and precision of a rifle bullet.
These barbed weapons would tear their way through the birch bark of the
canoes as if they were but sheets of brown paper. With appalling
suddenness this cloud of war was marshalling its forces. It was
sufficiently menacing to alarm the bravest heart.
La Salle ordered all the boats to stop. He then sent one canoe forward,
with four Frenchmen, to present the calumet of peace. They received
orders not to fire upon the savages under any emergence. As soon as the
canoe came within arrow-shot, the savages, regardless of the calumet,
let fly a shower of arrows upon them. Fortunately, they nearly all fell
a little short, and no one was hit. With the utmost precipitation, the
Frenchmen paddled back to their companions. La Salle then sent another
canoe, with four Indians, bearing the calumet. They advanced with great
caution, and met with the same hostile reception.
He then directed the canoes to press as near the opposite bank as
possible, to ply their paddles with all energy, and thus hurry by the
point of peril. Humanely he ordered not a gun to be fired. He had no
wish to engage in a battle in which nothing was to be gained. Very
easily his sharp-shooters could cause many of those savage warriors to
bite the dust, and thus lamentation and woe would be sent to many of
those wigwams. But this would do no good. It would not subdue the
savages; it would only exasperate them. He also remembered that he was
to return, and that if the savages had received no harm at his hands,
their spirit of revenge would not be aroused, and it would be much less
difficult to establish friendly relations with them.
Though the savages yelled, and ran franticly along the shore, and threw
their arrows with their utmost strength, the canoes, swept along by the
rapid current, and the sinewy strength of the paddles, all passed in
safety. The kind-hearted La Salle must have congratulated himself that
none were left behind to mourn. He afterwards learned that this
inhospitable tribe was called the Quinnipissa.
They had paddled down the stream but about six miles, when they came to
other and still more deplorable evidences of man's inhumanity to man.
They found upon the banks the smouldering remains of a large village,
which had recently been sacked and burned. It was evident that the
inhabitants had been given up to indiscriminate massacre, with the
exception of those who had been carried away into slavery, or to add to
the revelry of a gala day, in the endurance of demoniac torture. The
ground was covered with the bodies of men, women, and children, in all
the loathsome stages of decay. Sadly the voyagers rambled through these
awful scenes for an hour, meeting with no living being, and then
hurried on their way. This village, it was subsequently ascertained,
was called Tangibao.
Still they continued descending the river four days longer, without
meeting any incident of importance. Their day's sail averaged about
thirty miles. It was always necessary to land for the night's
encampment. They had made, as they estimated, about one hundred and
twenty miles from Quinnipissa when they came to the delta of the
Mississippi. Here the majestic river divided into four branches. At
this point they landed, and encamped in the midst of a dense and almost
tropical forest, upon the bank, but slightly elevated above the surface
of the water.
In the morning La Salle divided his fleet into three bands, one to
descend each of these three branches. He took the one on the extreme
right, or the western branch. Lieutenant Tonti, with Father Membré,
took the middle. The eastern branch, on the left, was assigned to Mr.
Dautray. Upon reaching the sea, the canoes on the right and left were
to turn toward the centre until they should meet the party of
Lieutenant Tonti, whose route to the sea, it was supposed, would be a
little shorter than that of either of the other two.
They all found the water deep and brackish, and the current very slow.
After sailing a few miles they tasted the salt of the ocean. Soon their
eyes were gladdened with the sight of the open sea. It was mild,
serene, beautiful summer weather. The region, as far as the eye could
reach, was low and marshy, with no landmarks. The fleets were, however,
all reunited in safety. La Salle having heard the report respecting the
middle and eastern channels, decided to return to the western, by which
he had descended.
They then ascended this branch before they could find any dry and solid
ground, suitable to afford a permanent foundation for the cross of
Christ and the arms of France. On the ninth of April, they were all
assembled on a ridge slightly elevated, for the celebration of this
all-important ceremony. First, they raised a massive column, at the
foot of which they buried a leaden plate, bearing an inscription in
Latin, to the following purport:
"Louis the Great Reigns. Robert, Cavalier, with Lord Tonti,
Ambassador, Zenobia Membré, Ecclesiastic, and twenty Frenchmen,
first navigated this river from the country of the Illinois, and
passed through this mouth on the ninth of April, sixteen hundred
and eighty-two."
The names of all the Frenchmen of the party were attached to this
plate. La Salle then made a speech, which was carefully worded, and
seems to have been recorded at that time. It was in substance as
follows:
"In the name of Louis the Great, and in virtue of the commission I hold
in my hand, I take possession of this country of Louisiana, its seas,
harbors, ports, bays, and adjacent straits; and also of all the
nations, people, provinces, cities, towns, villages, mines, minerals,
fisheries, streams, and rivers, comprised in the extent of the said
Louisiana, from the mouth of the great river called the Ohio, and this
with the consent of the people dwelling therein, with whom we have made
alliance; and also of the rivers which discharge themselves therein,
from the sources of the Mississippi to its mouth in the sea; upon the
assurance of all these nations that we are the first Europeans who have
descended or ascended the said Mississippi. I hereby protest against
all those who may in future undertake to invade any of these countries,
to the prejudice of the right of his Majesty, acquired by the consent
of all the nations herein named. Of this I take to witness all those
who hear me, and demand an act of the Notary as required by law."
To this the whole assembly responded with shouts of Vive le Roi and
with a salute of fire-arms.
The civic ceremony being thus ended, the transaction was now to be
ratified with religious rites. By the side of the column, a massive
cross had been erected. The devout La Salle, who was earnestly a
religious man, took his position at the foot of the cross, and said:
"His Majesty, Louis the Great, the eldest son of the Church, will annex
no country to his crown without making it his chief care to establish
the Christian religion therein. Its symbol must now be recognized."
Several Christian hymns were then chanted. The sublime strains of the
Te Deum resounded through the arches of the forest; and other
ceremonies of the Catholic Church were performed with all the pomp
which the circumstances would allow.
Thus the great achievement was accomplished. According to the then
existing law of nations, the whole valley of the Mississippi was
annexed to France. It was indeed a magnificent acquisition. It is
estimated that the kingdom of France comprises an extent not quite
three hundred thousand square miles. It is judged that the valley of
the Mississippi drains a region of one million square miles. Thus the
pioneer, La Salle, conferred upon France a territory more than three
times as large as the kingdom of France itself.