_Sea Voyage to the Gulf of Mexico._
La Salle returns to Quebec. Sails for France. Assailed by Calumny. The
Naval Expedition. Its Object. Its Equipment. Disagreement between La
Salle and Beaujeu. The Voyage to the West Indies. Adventures in the
Caribbean Sea. They Enter the Gulf. Storms and Calms. The Voyagers
Lost.
Father Membré's journal abruptly terminates with the arrival of the
party at Fort Miami. We have no detailed account of the adventures of
La Salle during the next eight or ten months. We learn incidentally,
that Father Membré was sent to Quebec, and thence to France, to convey
to the court the tidings of the great discovery, and of the annexation
of truly imperial realms to the kingdom of Louis XIV. On the 8th of
October, Father Membré left Fort Miami for Quebec. Thence he sailed
with Governor Frontenac for France, where he arrived before the close
of the year. La Salle remained with the Miami and the Illinois Indians,
probably retrieving his fallen fortunes by extensive traffic in furs,
of which he had, at the time, a monopoly conferred upon him by the
king.
At length, in the autumn of 1683, he also returned to Quebec, and
sailed for France, landing at Rochelle on the 13th of December. No man
can, in this world, accomplish great results without exposing himself
to malignant attacks. Bitter enemies assailed La Salle with venomous
hostility. Their hostility was excited by the monopoly of the fur
trade, which he enjoyed over all the vast regions he had explored. They
despatched atrocious charges against him to the government, denouncing
him as a robber, and denying the discoveries which he professed to have
made. But Governor Frontenac and Father Membré were both at Versailles,
and La Salle's cause was not seriously injured by these malignant
charges.
It was the chevalier's object, in this his return to France, to
organize a colony to form a settlement in the earthly paradise which he
thought that he had discovered on the banks of the Mississippi. He
designed to arrange an expedition of such magnitude as would enable him
to establish several permanent settlements, and also to explore more
extensively the newly discovered country.
The king and the court entered eagerly into plans, which promised to
redound greatly to the glory of France. The reputation of La Salle, the
grandeur of the undertaking, and a natural curiosity to visit scenes so
full of novelty and wonders, induced several gentlemen of distinction
and intelligence to embark in the enterprise. Among them was a younger
brother of La Salle, with an ecclesiastic called M. Cavalier, and also
a nephew. The king conferred a new commission upon La Salle, investing
him with the powers almost of viceroyalty. The whole valley of the
Mississippi, from Lake Michigan to the Gulf, was called Louisiana, in
honor of the then reigning king. The sway of La Salle embraced the
whole of this almost limitless region. Seven missionaries accompanied
the expedition, under the general supervision of Father Membré, whose
virtues and eminent qualification for the station all alike recognized.
Four vessels were equipped for the expedition. The first, called the
Joli, was a man-of-war armed with thirty-six guns. The second was a
frigate called the Belle. The king made a present of this vessel to La
Salle. He had furnished it with a very complete outfit, and with an
armament of six guns. The third, called the Aimable, was a
merchant-ship of about three hundred tons. It was heavily laden with
all those implements and goods which it was deemed would be most useful
in the establishment of a colony. The fourth was a light, swift-sailing
yacht, called the St. Francis, of but thirty tons. This vessel was also
laden with munitions, supplies, and goods for traffic with the Indians.
The whole number who embarked, including one hundred soldiers and seven
or eight families of women and children, amounted to two hundred and
eighty. Care was taken to select good mechanics for the various trades.
But, unfortunately, soldiers and seamen were engaged without apparently
any reference to character. Thus some of the worst vagabonds of earth
were gathered from the seaports of France to colonize the New World.
Nothing with the quarrelsome race of man ever goes smoothly for any
considerable length of time. Captain Beaujeu, a Norman seaman of great
valor and extensive experience, was commander of the man-of-war, and,
as such, was intrusted with the general direction and supervision of
the vessels. He was a proud man, accustomed to authority, and he
regarded La Salle and his party as passengers, whom he was conveying to
their destination, and who, while on board his vessels, were to be
subservient to his will.
On the other hand, La Salle regarded Beaujeu as one of his officers,
who was to be implicitly obedient to his directions. The idea never
occurred to him that Beaujeu was to be taken into partnership, or
consulted even, in regard to any of his measures, any farther than La
Salle might deem it expedient to consult him or any other of his
subordinates. With views so different, a speedy quarrel was inevitable.
Beaujeu is represented as a man full of conceit, of narrow mind, and
very irritable. La Salle was reserved, self-reliant, keeping his own
counsel. Scarcely had the two men met, before they found themselves in
antagonism. Before the vessels sailed, Beaujeu wrote to the king's
minister as follows:
"You have ordered me, sir, to afford this enterprise every facility
in my power. I shall do so. But permit me to say that I take great
credit to myself for consenting to obey the orders of La Salle. I
believe him to be a worthy man, but he has never served in war
except against savages, and has no military rank. I, on the
contrary, have been thirteen years captain of a vessel, and have
served thirty years by sea and land.
"He tells me that, in case of his death, the command devolves on
Chevalier de Tonti. This is certainly hard for me to bear. Though I
am not now acquainted with the country, I must be a dull scholar
not to obtain an adequate knowledge of it in a month after my
arrival. I beg you therefore to give me a share in the command, so
that no military operation may be undertaken without consulting me.
Should we be attacked by the Spaniards, I am persuaded that men who
have never commanded in war could not resist them, as another could
do, who had been taught by experience."
Three weeks later, he wrote: "The Joli is prepared for sea. I hope
to sail down the river to-morrow. It remains for M. La Salle to
sail when he is ready. He has said nothing to me of his designs.
As he is constantly changing his plans, I know not whether the
provisions will be enough for the enterprise. He is so jealous,
and so fearful that some one may penetrate his secrets, that I
have refrained from asking him any questions.
"I have already informed you how disagreeable it was for me to be
under the orders of M. de la Salle, who has no military rank. I
shall however obey him, without repugnance, if you send me orders
to that effect. But I beg that they may be such that he can impute
no fault to me should he fail to execute what he has undertaken. I
am induced to say this because he has intimated that it was my
design to thwart his plans. I wish you would inform me what is to
be done in regard to the soldiers. He pretends that, on our
arrival, they are to be put under his charge. My instructions do
not authorize this pretence. I am to afford all the aid in my
power, without endangering the safety of the vessels."
The ministry paid no attention to these complaints. They probably
decided to leave the commanders to settle such questions among
themselves. The four vessels sailed from Rochelle on the 24th of July,
1684. They had advanced but about one hundred and fifty miles when a
violent tempest overtook them. The Joli lost her bowsprit. Consequently
the little squadron returned to Rochefort. Having repaired damages, the
fleet again set sail, on the 1st of August.
La Salle and his _suite_, if we may so speak of his chosen companions,
were on board the Joli, which Captain Beaujeu commanded. On the 8th of
August the fleet passed Cape Finisterre, the extreme northwestern point
of Spain. On the 20th they reached the island of Madeira. Captain
Beaujeu wished to land here, to take in a fresh supply of provisions.
La Salle said, emphatically, "No!"
"We have," he said, "an ample supply of both food and water. To anchor
there will cause us a delay of six or eight days. It will reveal our
enterprise to the Spaniards. It was not the intention of the king that
we should touch at that point."
Beaujeu was compelled to submit. But he was very angry and sullen. His
sub-officers and sailors were also angry. Time was nothing to them, and
they were anticipating grand carousals in port. Sharp words were
interchanged, and the quarrel became more bitter. On the 24th they
reached the influence of the trade winds, which blow continually from
east to west. On the 6th of September they reached the Tropic of
Cancer. In crossing this line a custom had long prevailed of performing
a rite called baptism upon all on shipboard who then crossed for the
first time. The indignity was inflicted upon all alike, without any
regard to character or rank. But, by giving the sailors a rich treat,
one could secure for himself a little more moderation in the
performance of the revolting ceremony.
A very stout sailor, generally the most gigantic man of the crew,
grotesquely dressed to represent Father Neptune, would come up over the
bows of the vessel and seize his victim. First he would catechize him
very closely respecting his object in crossing the line; then he would
exact an oath that he would never permit any one, when he was present,
to enter the tropics without subjecting him to baptism. Then he would
dash several bucketsful of salt water upon his head. This was the
mildest form of performing the rite. If the subject for the baptism
were, for any reason, obnoxious to the sailors, his treatment was much
more severe. He was greased and tarred and shampooed, and shaved with
an iron hoop, and treated, in all respects, very roughly.
On board this fleet, the passengers, including one hundred well-armed
soldiers, greatly exceeded the number of sailors. La Salle, learning
that the sailors were making great preparations for this baptism,
resolved that he would not submit to such an indignity, and that his
companions and followers should not be subjected to it. He therefore
issued orders prohibiting the ceremony. This exasperated the sailors.
Beaujeu openly advocated their cause. The seamen were compelled to
submit. The antagonism between the two commanders was embittered.
On the 11th of September they reached the latitude of St. Domingo. A
dead calm soon ensued. The ships floated as upon a sea of glass. One of
the soldiers died. After imposing religious rites, his body was
consigned to its ocean sepulchre. The calm was succeeded by a storm. In
the darkness and tumult of this tropical tempest the vessels lost sight
of each other. Gradually the storm abated. The change of climate had
caused much sickness. Fifty were in hospital on board the Joli,
including La Salle and both of the surgeons. On the 20th, the grand
mountains of St. Helena hove in sight, and the majestic bay of Samana
opened before them.
It still required a sail of five days before they reached the Port de
Paix, on the northwestern extremity of the island. Here there was a
very fine harbor, and here the French governor of the neighboring isle
of Tortue had his residence. La Salle had letters to this governor, M.
de Cussy, directing him to supply the fleet with everything it might
need, and which it was in his power to give. For some unexplained
reason Beaujeu silently declined obeying these orders. In the night he
sailed directly by the Port de Paix, and doubling Cape St. Nicholas, a
hundred miles distant at the western extremity of the island, circled
around to the southern shore, and on the 27th cast anchor in a small
harbor called the Petit Guave. The voyage thus far, from Rochelle, had
occupied fifty-eight days.
This unaccountable change of place for the rendezvous of the scattered
vessels caused much embarrassment. We do not know what were the
remonstrances of La Salle, or what was the defence of Beaujeu. The Joli
had scarcely cast anchor in this remote and silent bay, when a large
sail-boat, containing twenty men, who had caught sight of the ship,
entered the port, and informed La Salle that not only Governor Cussy
was at the Port de Paix, but also the Marquis of Laurent, who was
governor-general of all the French West India Islands. This greatly
increased the chagrin of La Salle for an interview with them would have
greatly facilitated his operations.
Religious ceremonies were, in a remarkable degree, blended with all
these explorations. The next day after the Joli cast anchor, all the
ship's company was assembled for divine worship, to return thanks to
God for their prosperous voyage. La Salle, being convalescent, went
ashore with a boat's crew to obtain some refreshments, and to send
intelligence across the island, to the governor, of his arrival at Port
de Paix. In this message he expressed intense regret that he had not
been able to stop at Port de Paix, and entreated the governor, if it
were in his power, to visit his ship at Guave.
In consequence of the number of sick on board, they were all landed,
shelters were reared for them, and they were refreshed with fresh
vegetables, fruit, and exercise in the open air. La Salle was still
very feeble. A slow fever was consuming him. The conduct of Beaujeu
caused him the greatest embarrassment. We should infer from the
narrative of M. Joutel that there was no European settlement at the
spot, and but very few native inhabitants, though all the natives were
friendly.
In a few days two of the vessels which had been separated from the Joli
by the storm, entered the bay, having probably learned from the
natives, as they coasted along the shore, where the ship was. The whole
of the eastern portion of the island was then held by Spain. As the
three vessels were sailing along, two large boats, filled with armed
Spaniards, pushed out from the shore and seized the smallest of the
vessels--the St. Francis--and carried it off as a prize, with all its
crew. This was a very heavy loss, as it deprived the expedition of
supplies of which it stood greatly in need. The chagrin of La Salle was
increased by the reflection that had Beaujeu obeyed orders and entered
Port de Paix, the fleet would have rendezvoused there in perfect
safety. The governor very loudly expressed his indignation, in view of
the conduct of Captain Beaujeu.
The state of mind of the captain may be inferred from the following
extracts from a letter to the French minister, which he wrote at that
place:
"Were it not the sickness of Chevalier La Salle, I should have no
occasion to write to you, as I am charged only with the navigation
and he with the secret. We have arrived here almost all sick. La
Salle has been attacked by a violent fever, which affects not more
his body than his mind. His brother requested me to take charge of
his affairs. I excused myself because I know that when restored to
health he would not approve of what I had done.
"It is said that the Spaniards have, in these seas, six men-of-war,
each carrying sixty guns. It is true that if the Chevalier de la
Salle should not recover, I shall pursue different measures from
those which he has adopted, which I do not approve. I cannot
comprehend how a man should dream of settling a country surrounded
by Spaniards and Indians, with a company of workmen and women,
without soldiers.
"If you will permit me to express my opinion, the Chevalier de la
Salle should have contented himself with the discovery of his
river, without attempting to conduct three vessels and troops
across the ocean through seas utterly unknown to him. He is a man
of great learning, who has read much, and has some knowledge of
navigation. But there is a great difference between theory and
practice. The ability to transport canoes through lakes and rivers
is very different from that which is required to conduct vessels
and troops over remote seas."
After a short delay in this lonely harbor, the fleet, now consisting of
but three vessels, again spread its sails. It was agreed to direct
their course to Cape St. Antoine, about nine hundred miles distant, at
the extreme western point of the island of Cuba. Should the vessels be
separated by a storm, they were to rendevous at that place.
As the Aimable, a heavily laden merchantman, was the slowest sailer, it
was decided that she should take the lead, the other two following. La
Salle, with his brother, Father Membré, and some others, transferred
their quarters from the Joli to the Aimable. This movement was also
probably influenced by La Salle's desire to escape from the uncongenial
companionship of Captain Beaujeu. It was on the 25th of November, 1684,
that the voyage was resumed.
Two days' sail brought the fleet within sight of the magnificent island
of Cuba. They ran along its southern shore, generally in sight of its
towering mountains and its luxuriant foliage, but having the enchanting
scenery occasionally veiled from their view by dense fogs. On the 1st
of December they caught sight, far away in the south, of the grand
island of Cayman. On the 4th of December, they cast anchor in a
sheltered bay of the beautiful Island of Pines, but a few miles south
of the Cuban coast.
La Salle, with his companions, took a boat and went on shore. Several
of the ship's crew rowed the boat. As they approached the sandy beach,
they saw an immense crocodile, apparently asleep, enjoying the blaze of
a tropical sun. The boatmen drew near as noiselessly as they could. La
Salle took deliberate aim and fired. Fortunately the bullet struck a
vulnerable point. The monster, after a few convulsive struggles, was
dead. The sailors, eager for a taste of fresh meat, kindled a fire and
roasted the flesh, which they found tender and palatable. There were no
inhabitants at that point. The party separated in small groups, and
wandered in all directions, lured by the beauty of the region, and
feasting upon the rich tropical fruits which grew in spontaneous
abundance.
When about to reëmbark, two of the sailors were missing. Several guns
were fired as signals for the lost men, but in vain. The boat returned
to the ship. The next morning, at sunrise, a boat's crew of thirty men
was sent to search for the wanderers. At length they were found,
thoroughly frightened, having passed a very uncomfortable night. The
beauty of this island charmed all who beheld it. They were lavish in
their praises of its luxuriance, its fruits, its game, and its birds of
brilliant plumage.
Again the fleet weighed anchor and, on the 11th, reached Cape
Corrientes, one of the most prominent southwestern points of Cuba. Here
again they ran into a solitary bay, which, in clustering fruits and
vine-draped bowers, and birds on the wing, presented an aspect of
almost Eden loveliness. They tarried but a day. Then, taking advantage
of a breeze fresh and fair, they passed from the Caribbean Sea into the
Gulf of Mexico They had proceeded but about fifteen miles when the wind
changed, and became adverse. For two days, by beating, they worked
their way slowly against it.
Captain Beaujeu took a boat, and came on board the Aimable, and
insisted that the vessels should put back to Cape Antoine, and ride at
anchor there until the wind should prove favorable. La Salle could not
consider this measure judicious. But, weary of contention and anxious
to agree with Beaujeu whenever he could, he reluctantly gave his
consent. They ran back to the land, cast anchor, remained two days in a
dead calm, when suddenly a tropical tempest arose, which was almost a
tornado. The Belle dragged her anchor, and was driven violently against
the Aimable, carrying away her bowsprit, and greatly injuring much of
her rigging. The Aimable would have been sunk had she not cut her cable
and escaped. The anchor was lost.
On the 18th, the wind became fair. Having repaired damages as far as
was in their power, the fleet again set sail. It was ten o'clock in the
morning of a very delightful day. Directing their course northwesterly,
they sailed, with a gentle breeze and occasional calms, nine days'
without seeing land or encountering any event of importance. On the
28th, land was discovered. It was but a few miles distant. It was
evidently the continent of North America, and consisted of a long reach
of low land, fringed with a dense forest, and elevated but a few feet
above the level of the Gulf.
A shallop was speedily equipped, and La Salle, with a few of his chosen
companions and a boat's crew, all well-armed, repaired to the shore to
reconnoitre. Another boat, also similarly equipped, was ordered soon to
follow. The Belle was directed to keep up careful soundings, and to
range along the coast as near the shore as was safe.
La Salle's party soon reached the shore, and landed upon a very
beautiful meadow. But they had no time for exploration. The freshening
wind rolled in such a surf that there was great danger that their boat
would be swamped. They were compelled hastily to reëmbark, and return
to the ship. Slowly the vessels coasted along the uninviting shore,
looking in vain for any inlet or any river's mouth.
On the 2d of January, 1685, a dense fog settled down over the sea and
the land, so enveloping the ships that no object could be seen at the
distance of a few yards.
La Salle ordered cannon occasionally to be fired on board the Aimable,
to let the other two vessels know where he was. As there was scarcely a
breath of wind, there was no necessity that the fleet should be
scattered. When the fog the next day was dissipated, the Joli was not
in sight. Toward evening, however, the ship was again seen. In a few
days they discovered an inlet, which La Salle carefully examined from
the mast-head. He judged it to be the Bay of Appalachicola, then called
Espiritu Santo, on the Florida coast. They therefore pressed on
westerly, hoping soon to reach the Mississippi.
To make it sure that he should not pass the mouth of the river, which,
flowing through very low and marshy soil, was designated by no
landmark, La Salle desired to send a party of thirty men ashore to
follow along the coast. But the wind rose, and the surf dashed so
violently upon the muddy banks, that a landing could not be effected.
Slowly the fleet moved along until the 13th, when it was found
necessary to land to take in water. A shallop was sent ashore, with
five or six seamen, well-armed. There was no inlet, and no creek to
afford any protection, and the surf still rolled in heavily.
Though the dense forest spread its gloom far and wide around, there
opened before them a small meadow of but a few acres, green, treeless
and smooth as a floor. The boat was directed toward that spot. When
within a gun-shot of the land, a troop of about a dozen savages, tall,
stalwart men, entirely naked, emerged from the forest, and came down to
the water's edge. The surf was so high that there was much danger that
the boat would be swamped in an attempt to land. The seamen therefore
cast anchor, to consider what was to be done.
When the savages saw that they were at a standstill, they made friendly
signs, inviting the strangers to land. They waded out into the surf and
beckoned to them. Apparently the boat could not pass safely through the
surf. There was a large amount of drift-wood lining the shore. Several
of the savages selected a large smooth log. This they pushed through
the surf. Ranging themselves on each side, they clung to the log with
one arm, while, with the other, they paddled. Without any hesitancy,
unarmed and helpless, they clambered into the boat.
When five were in, the seamen motioned to the others to go to another
boat which was then approaching, and which conveyed La Salle. The
savages seemed not to entertain the slightest suspicion of danger. La
Salle was very glad to receive them. He hoped that they could give him
some information respecting the river he sought. But all his efforts
were in vain. Though he spoke several Indian languages, he could not
make them understand him. They were all taken on board the vessel. With
much curiosity they examined its wonders. They were feasted, and seemed
quite at home in smoking the pipe of fragrant tobacco. The sheep, the
swine, and the poultry, they had evidently never seen before. But when
they were shown the skin of a cow, which had recently been killed, they
seemed much delighted, and indicated that they had seen such animals
before, doubtless referring to the buffaloes.
Having received many presents, a boat was sent to carry them as near
the shore as it was safe to go. The savages bound their presents upon
their heads, and letting themselves gently down into the water, swam to
the land. Marvellous must have been the stories which they narrated
that night, in their wigwams, to admiring crowds. Quite a large group
of Indians was seen gathered upon the shore to greet them, as they came
back.
La Salle had found it impossible to understand their signs. But his
apprehensions were somewhat excited by the thought that they might have
endeavored to indicate to him that he had already passed the mouth of
the Mississippi.
That evening the wind rose fresh and fair. Raising their anchors, and
keeping near the shore, with frequent soundings, they pressed on toward
the southwest. The next day came a dead calm. Each vessel floated on
the glassy sea, "like a painted ship on a painted ocean." Thus they
moved along, day after day, encountering calms, when not a ripple was
to be seen on the mirrored expanse, and fresh breezes, which tossed the
ocean in billowy foam, and storms which threatened to tear the masts
from the hulls.
On the 14th of January they attempted again to effect a landing in the
boats. But the surf prevented. They saw, however, upon a beautiful
prairie, extending with its waving grass and gorgeous flowers as far as
the eye could reach, vast herds of wild horses and buffaloes. All on
board the vessels were greatly excited by this spectacle. They were
eager to land, that they might enjoy the pleasure of an encampment and
the excitement of hunting and the chase.
The land was now found trending more and more to the south. They had
reached a latitude considerably below that of the mouth of the
Mississippi, as ascertained by La Salle, upon his first visit. The
whole aspect of the country seemed changed. There were immense treeless
prairies continually opening before them, crowded with game, and
especially with immense herds of horses and buffaloes.
At length they came to apparently the mouth of a small river. A boat
was sent on shore, with orders to kindle a fire, as a signal, should
they find a good place for landing. La Salle stood upon the deck of the
Aimable, eagerly watching. Soon he saw the smoke curling up through the
clear air of the prairie. Just as La Salle was entering his boat for
the shore, the wind freshened and tumbled in such billows from the open
sea that the boat, which had already landed, was compelled
precipitately to return. The next morning the wind abated La Salle felt
himself lost. He resolved to land, with a strong party, and make a
thorough exploration of the region, that he might, by observation or by
communication with such inhabitants as he might discover, find out
where he was. He had many apprehensions that he had passed the mouth of
the Mississippi, and that he was far in the west, skirting the coast of
Mexico.