Reprint of chapters xxxiii-xli of Volume II of original edition:
New York, 1838
CONTENTS
XXXIII
Blackness of Darkness--Fall of a Forest-tree--A sublime
Incident--Musings--A Moral--A Wolf--A Meal--A Mistake--A broiling
Sun--The "Heights of Chester"--A noble View--An Island--A
"Bend"--A Steamer--Chester--Site and Anticipations--A romantic
Pathway--The Sycamores--The Undergrowth--The Bluffs--Forest
Quietude--The wild-grape Vines--Size, Tortuosity, and Tenacity--A
Juliet-bower--A Prediction--Kaskaskia Bottom--An elegant Farm and
Mansion--The Outhouses--The Harvest-fields and Grounds--The
Bluffs--The Village 19
XXXIV
Antiqueness--A Proposition and Corollary--"All is New"--Freshness of
Natural Scenery--The immigrant Inhabitants--An Exception--A serious
Duty--A laudable Resolution--A gay Bevy--A Hawser-ferry--A Scene on
the Kaskaskia--"Old Kaskaskia"--Structure of Dwellings--Aspect of
Antiquity--A Contrast--"City of the Pilgrims"--The Scenes of a
Century--Lane-like Streets--Old Customs--"The Parallel ceases"--The
same Fact with the Spaniards--The Cause--The French Villagers--The
Inn-gallery--A civil Landlord--The _Table d'Hôte_--A Moonlight
Ramble--The old Church--The Courthouse--The fresh Laugh--The
Piano--The Brunettes 26
XXXV
The Explorers of the West--The French Jesuits--Cause of the
Undertaking--The Tale of the Hunters--Marquette and Joliet
[viii]--Their Exploration--The Natives--The Illini--A
Village--_Manito_ of the Missouri--The Illinois--Amazed
Delight--Joliet's Narrative--Marquette--Name to the
River--Joliet's Reward--Lapse of Years--M. Robert, Cavalier de la
Salle--His Talent, Ambition, and Enterprise--Visit to
Canada--Success at Paris--Tonti and Hennepin--Exploration--The
Illinois--An Indian Village--The Hoard of Corn--Peoria
Lake--Treatment by the Natives--Loss of the Supply-boat--Fort
"_Creve Cœur_"--Its Site--"Spring Bay"--The Indian War--Danger of
La Salle--The Mutiny--The Poison--Exploration of the
Mississippi--The Falls--Captivity--Hennepin's Travels--Character
of these early Writers--"Fort St. Louis"--Second Expedition of La
Salle--The _Osage_--A Village of Natives--The _Oubachi_--Fort
_Prudhomme_--Formal Possession--_Louisiana_--Ceremonies at the
Gulf--River "St. Louis"--Villages founded--Fate of La
Salle--Retributive Justice--Fate of Marquette--Decease and
Burial--Canadian Colonies--Their Design--Mining Expeditions--M. de
Seur--Disappointment--_Couriers du bois_--_Petits Paysans_--Merry
Mortals--Origin of Kaskaskia--Name--Depôt of Fur-trade--De Soto
and the Tradition--His Death and Burial--Original Extent of
Kaskaskia--The "Common Field"--The Grant--Policy of French and
Spanish Governments--"Common Fields" and
"Commons"--Regulations--Congress-grants--Harmony with the
Savages--The Cause--Exaggeration--Early Peace and
Prosperity--Jesuit College--Law's Scheme--The Design--_Les
Illinois_--The Failure--The "South Sea Bubble"--Prosperity of
Kaskaskia--Luxuriance of Agriculture--A chimerical Design--Cession
and Recession--An unwelcome Change--Removal and the Causes 34
XXXVI
Portraiture of Character--The Difficulty--The French Villager of
the Mississippi--His ordinary Deportment--Hospitality--Laws and
Courts--Scholastic Proficiency--Affairs of the Nation--"A
Burden!"--Their Virtues--The Helpmate--Religious
Faith--Festivals--Their Property--The Change--Their
Avocations--Their Idiom--A Contrast--The
Peculiarities--Costume--Amusements--Slaves--Early Government--An
unwelcome Change--"Improvement!"--A hateful [ix] Term--The
Steam-engine--The old Edifices--The Streets--Advantages of the
Change--The Contrast--The poorer Class--Evils of the
Change--Superior Enterprise 52
XXXVII
Delay on an interesting Subject--Peculiarities of French and
Spanish Villages similar--Social Intercourse--Old Legends--Dreamy
Seclusion--Commercial Advantages of Kaskaskia--The Trade--The
River--The Land-office--Population--Fort Gage--Clarke's
Expedition--The Catholic Church--Erection--Its Exterior--The
Interior--The Altar-lamp--Structure of the Roof--Surprise of the
Villagers--Interdict on the Architect--The Belfry--The Bell--View
from the Tower--The Churchyard--The first Record--Old
Chronicles--The Nunnery--The Seminary--Departure from
Kaskaskia--Farms of the French--A Reminiscence--"Indian Old
Point"--Extermination of the Norridgewocks--Details--The Obelisk
to Father Rasle--Route to _Prairie du
Rocher_--_Aubuchon_--Profusion of wild Fruit--Nuts--Grapes--A Wine
Story--Mode of Manufacture--The Cliffs of _Prairie du
Rocher_--"Common Field"--Productions--The _Bayou_--A Scene of
Blood--A Century Slumber--Peculiarities--View from the
Cliffs--Petrifactions--Simplicity and Ignorance--Characteristics
of the French Villager--The Catholic Church--Unhealthy Site--Cause
of a Phenomenon 59
XXXVIII
The Western Valley--Early Conception of its Extent inadequate--The
French _Cordon_ of Fortification--Origin of the Policy--Stations
of Posts erected--Fort Chartres--Groves of wild Fruit--The
Dark-browed Villager--His direction to the Ruins--Desertion and
Dreariness of the Spot--Solemn Effect of the old Pile in the
Forest--_Coup d'œil_--The Mississippi _Slough_--Erection of Fort
Chartres--The Design--Expense--Material--Rebuilding--Village
Cession, Recession, and the Results--Seat of Power--Form and
Extent--Preservation of the Masonry--French Engineering--Original
Structure of the Fortress--The Pride of its Prime--Its Scenes--The
"Golden Age"--The "old Residenters"--The Pomp of War--A Shelter
for the Night 73
[x] XXXIX
Fort Chartres--A romantic Scene--Legendary Lore--Erection of Fort
Chartres--Enormous Expenditure--Needless Strength--The
Engineer--His Fate--The "Buried Treasure"--The
Money-diggers--Their Success--The "Western Hannibal"--Expedition
against Vincennes--Capture of the French Villages--Siege of Fort
Chartres--A successful _Ruse du Guerre_--A Scrap of History--The
Capture of Fort Vincent--The Stratagem--Fort Du Quesne--Erection
and History--Useless Strength--A Morning Scene--Philippe Francis
Renault--His Mining Operations--The Village St. Philippe--The
Cottonwood Forest--The Mississippi!--A Mistake--A weary Plod--An
Atmosphere of Pestilence--Causes of Disease--Salubrious Site for a
Cabin--Precautions for the Emigrant--Diseases of the
West--Fevers--Sickly Months--"Milk Sickness"--Its Cause and
Effects--Fever and Ague--An Escape--A sick Family--The
Consumptive--Refreshment--An early Settler 85
XL
The "Squatter"--His Character and Person--A View from the
Bluffs--The ancient Indian Village--Reliques--The Squatter's
Reflections--His Wanderings--A Discovery--The Grave of a
Chief--The Ancient Burial-grounds--Human Remains--A Coffin of
Stone--The "Pigmy Race"--An Investigation--Ancient Pottery--The
_Turtle_--The _Sink-holes_--Waterloo--Its Windmill and
Courthouse--Bellefontaine--An evening Ride--"Hail Columbia!"--An
_immortal_ Name--A very poor Pun--A miserable Night--A pleasant
Dawn--The American Bottom--Its
Name--Extent--Boundaries--Bluffs--Lakes, their Cause and
Consequence--Disease an Obstacle to Settlement--The Remedy--The
_Grand Marais_--The Soil--Its Fertility--The appropriate
Production 97
XLI
The American Bottom--Its alluvial Character--An interesting
Query--The Ancient Lake--The Southern Limit--The Parapet of
Stone--Alluvial Action on the Cliffs--A similar Expansion--The
Eastern Limit and the Western--The "Mamelle [xi]
Prairie"--Elevation of Country North--Cause of the Draining--The
Rocks at "Grand Tower"--Abrasion of Waters--Volcanic Action--A
Tide-spring--The "Blockhouse"--Geology of the Region--Volcanic
Convulsions--Impress of Omnipotence--Reflections
suggested--Ignorance and Indifference on the Subject--Remarks of
Dr. Buckland and Cuvier--A very _ancient_ Revolution--Huge
Remains--Theory of Cuvier--Productions of the American Bottom--The
Farms--Prairie-flowers--Mounds--_Prairie du Pont_--Refreshment--A
novel Churn--A disagreeable Village--_Cahokia_--The Indian
Tribe--The Settlement--The Mississippi--The Creek--Harmonious
Intercourse--A Contrast--Early Inhabitants of
Cahokia--Peculiarities of the Village--The "Common Field"--Grant
of Congress--Cahokia at the present Time--Route to St.
Louis--Sunset on the Water--View of the City--Moonlight--Arrival
at St. Louis--A Farewell! 108
THE FAR WEST
[PART II]
XXXIII[1]
"Stranger, if thou hast learn'd a truth which needs
Experience more than reason, that the world
Is full of guilt and misery, and hast known
Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares
To tire thee of it; enter this wild wood,
And view the haunts of Nature."
BRYANT.
The moon had gone down; the last star had burned out in the firmament;
and that deep darkness which precedes the dawn was brooding over the
earth as the traveller turned away from the little inn at the village
of Pinkneyville. Fortunately he had, the previous evening, while
surveying the face of the region from the door of the hostelrie,
gained some general idea of the route to [CXXVII] Kaskaskia; and now,
dropping the reins upon his horse's neck, he began floundering along
through a blackness of darkness perfectly Cimmerian. It was, indeed, a
gloomy night. The early mists were rising, damp and chill, from the
soil saturated with the showers of the preceding day; and the darkness
had become of a density almost palpable to the sense. Crossing a
narrow arm of the prairie in the direction presumed to be correct, my
horse carried me into a dense wood, and, if possible, the darkness
increased. I had penetrated some miles into the heart of the forest,
and was advancing slowly upon my way, when my attention was suddenly
arrested by a low, whispering, rustling sound in the depths of the
wood at my right; this gradually increasing, was almost immediately
succeeded by a crashing, thundering, rushing report, till every echo
far and wide in that dark old wood was wakened, and the whole forest
for miles around resounded with the roar. My horse, terrified at the
noise, leaped and plunged like a mad creature. An enormous forest-tree
had fallen within a dozen rods of the spot on which I stood. As I left
the noble ruin and resumed my lonely way, my mind brooded over the
event, and I thought I could perceive in the occurrence a powerful
feature of the sublime. The fall of an aged tree in the noiseless
lapse of time is ever an event not unworthy of notice; but, at a
moment like this, it was surely so in an eminent degree. Ages
since--long ere the first white man had pressed the soil of this
Western world, and while the untamed denizens of the wilderness
[CXXVIII] roamed in the freedom of primitive creation--ages since had
seen the germe of that mighty tree lifting up its young, green leaf
from the sod, beneath the genial warmth of the sunlight and the summer
wind. An age passed away. The tender stem had reared itself into a
gigantic pillar, and proudly tossed its green head amid the upper
skies: that young leaf, expanded and developed, had spread itself
abroad, until, at length, the beasts of the earth had sought out its
shade, and the tree stood up the monarch of the forest. Another age is
gone, and the hoary moss of time is flaunting to the winds from its
venerable branches. Long ago the thunderbolt had consecrated its lofty
top with the baptismal of fire, and, sere and rifted, the storm-cloud
now sings through its naked limbs. Like an aged man, its head is
bleached with years, while the strength and verdure of ripened
maturity yet girdle its trunk. But the worm is at the root: rottenness
at the heart is doing its work. Its day and its hour are appointed,
and their bounds it may not pass. That hour, that moment is come! and
in the deep, pulseless stillness of the night-time, when slumber
falleth upon man and Nature pauses in her working, the offspring of
centuries is laid low, and bows himself along the earth. Yet another
age is gone; but the traveller comes not to muse over the relics of
the once-glorious ruin. Long ago has each been mouldering away, and
their dust has mingled with the common mother of us all. Ah! there is
a _moral_ in the falling of an aged tree!
[CXXIX] I was dwelling with rather melancholy reflections upon this
casual occurrence, when a quick panting close at my side attracted my
attention; a large, gaunt-looking prairie-wolf had just turned on his
_heel_ and was trotting off into the shade. The gray dawn had now
begun to flicker along the sky, and, crossing a beautiful prairie and
grove, I found myself at the pleasant farmhouse of a settler of some
twenty or thirty years' standing; and dismounting, after a ride of
eighteen miles, I partook, with little reluctance or ceremony, of an
early breakfast. Thus much for the _night adventures of a traveller_
in the woods and wilds of Illinois! My host, the old gentleman to whom
I have referred, very sagely mistook his guest for a physician, owing
to a peculiarly convenient structure of those indispensables ycleped
saddle-bags; and was just about consulting his fancied man of
medicines respecting the ailings of his "woman," who was reclining on
a bed, when, to his admiration, he was undeceived.
Passing through an inconsiderable village on the north side of the
Little Vermillion called Georgetown, my route lay through an extended
range of hills and _barrens_.[2] Among the former were some most
intolerably tedious, especially to a horseman beneath a broiling sun,
who had passed a sleepless night: but the sweep of scenery from their
summits was beautiful and extensive. At length the traveller stood
upon the "heights of Chester," and the broad Mississippi was rolling
on its turbid floods a hundred yards beneath. The view is here a noble
[CXXX] one, not unlike that from the Alton or Grafton bluffs at the
other extremity of the "American Bottom," though less extensive.
Directly at the feet of the spectator, scattered along a low, narrow
interval, lies the village of Chester. Upon the opposite bank the
forest rolls away to the horizon in unbroken magnificence, excepting
that here and there along the bottom the hand of cultivation is
betrayed by the dark luxuriance of waving maize-fields. A beautiful
island, with lofty trees and green smiling meadows, stretches itself
along in the middle of the stream before the town, adding not a little
to the picturesqueness of the scene, and, in all probability, destined
to add something more to the future importance of the place. To the
right, at a short distance, come in the soft-flowing waters of the
Kaskaskia through deeply-wooded banks; and nearly in the same
direction winds away the mirror-surface of the Mississippi for twenty
miles, to accomplish a direct passage of but four, an occurrence by
no means unusual in its course. As I stood gazing upon the scene, a
steamer appeared sweeping around the bend, and, puffing lazily along
with the current past the town, soon disappeared in the distance. From
the heights an exceedingly precipitous pathway leads down to the
village. Chester is one of the new places of Illinois, and, of course,
can boast but little to interest the stranger apart from the highly
scenic beauty of its situation.[3] It has been mostly erected within
the few years past; and, for its extent, is a flourishing business
place. Its landing is excellent, location healthy, [CXXXI] adjacent
region fertile, and, for aught I know to the contrary, may, in course
of years, rival even the far-famed Alton. Its landing, I was informed,
is the only one for many miles upon the river, above or below,
suitable for a place of extensive commerce.
From Chester, in a direction not far from north, a narrow pathway winds
along beneath the bluffs, among the tall cane-brakes of the bottom.
Leaving the Mississippi at the mouth of the Kaskaskia, it runs along the
low banks of the latter stream, and begins to assume an aspect truly
delightful. Upon either side rise the shafts of enormous sycamores to
the altitude of an hundred feet, and then, flinging abroad and
interlacing their long branches, form a living arch of exquisite beauty,
stretching away in unbroken luxuriance for miles. Beneath springs from
the rich loam a dense undergrowth of canes; a profusion of wild vines
and bushes clustering with fruit serving effectually to exclude the
sunbeams, except a few checkered spots here and there playing upon the
foliage, while at intervals through the dark verdure is caught the
flashing sheen of the moving waters. Upon the right, at the distance of
only a few yards, go up the bluffs to the sheer height of some hundred
feet, densely clothed with woods. The path, though exceedingly narrow
and serpentine, is for the most part a hard-trodden, smooth, and
excellent one when dry. The coolness and fragrance of these deep, old,
shadowy woodlands has always for me a resistless charm. There is so much
of quiet seclusion from the feverish turmoil of ordinary life within
[CXXXII] their peaceful avenues, that, to one not wedded to the world,
they are ever inexpressibly grateful.
"The calm shade
Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze,
That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm
To thy sick heart. Thou wilt find nothing here
Of all that pain'd thee in the haunts of men,
And made thee loathe thy life."
In the wild, fierce glaring of a summer noontide, when amid "the
haunts of men" all is parched up, and dusty, and scathed, how
refreshingly cool are the still depths of the forest! The clear
crystal streamlet gushes forth with perennial laughter from the rock,
seeming to exult in its happy existence; the bright enamelled mosses
of a century creep along the gnarled old roots, and life in all its
fairy forms trips forth to greet the eremite heart and charm it from
the world. But there was one feature of the scene through which I was
passing that struck me as peculiarly imposing, and to which I have not
yet referred. I allude to the enormous, almost preternatural magnitude
of the wild-grape vine, and its tortuosity. I have more than once, in
the course of my wanderings, remarked the peculiarities of these vast
parasites; but such is the unrivalled fertility, and the depth of soil
of the Kaskaskia bottom, that vegetation of every kind there attains a
size and proportion elsewhere almost unknown. Six or seven of these
vast vegetable serpents are usually beheld leaping forth with a broad
whirl from the mould at the root of a tree, and then, writhing, and
twining, and twisting [CXXXIII] among themselves into all imaginable
forms, at length away they start, all at once and together, in
different directions for the summit, around which they immediately
clasp their bodies, one over the other, and swing depending in
festoons on every side. Some of these vines, when old and dried up by
the elements, are amazingly strong; more so, perhaps, than a hempen
hawser of the same diameter.
Having but a short ride before me the evening I left Chester, I
alighted from my horse, and leisurely strolled along through this
beautiful bower I have been attempting to describe. What a charming
spot, thought I, for a Romeo and Juliet!--pardon my roving fancy,
sober reader--but really, with all my own sobriety, I could not but
imagine this a delightful scene for a "Meet me by moonlight alone," or
any other _improper_ thing of the kind, whether or not a trip to
Gretna Green subsequently ensued. And if, in coming years, when the
little city of Chester shall have become all that it now seems to
promise, and the venerable Kaskaskia, having cast her slough, having
rejuvenated her withered energies, and recalled the days of her
pristine _traditionary_ glory; if then, I say, the young men and
maidens make not this the consecrated spot of the long summer-evening
ramble and the trysting-place of the heart, reader, believe us not; in
the dignified _parlance_ of the _corps editorial_, believe _us_ not.
Some portions of the Kaskaskia bottom have formerly, at different
times, been cleared and cultivated; but nothing now remains but the
ruins of [CXXXIV] tenements to acquaint one with the circumstance. The
spot must have been exceedingly unhealthy in its wild state. There is,
however, one beautiful and extensive farm under high cultivation
nearly opposite Kaskaskia, which no traveller can fail to observe and
admire. It is the residence of Colonel M----, a French gentleman of
wealth, who has done everything a cultivated taste could dictate to
render it a delightful spot.[4] A fine, airy farmhouse stands beneath
the bluffs, built after the French style, with heavy roof, broad
balconies, and with a rare luxury in this region--green Venetian
blinds. The outhouses, most of them substantially constructed of
stone, are surpassed in beauty and extent only by the residence
itself. Fields yellow with golden harvest, orchards loaded with fruit,
and groves, and parks, and pastures sprinkled with grazing cattle,
spread out themselves on every side. In the back-ground rise the
wooded bluffs, gracefully rounded to their summits, while in front
roams the gentle Kaskaskia, beyond which, peacefully reposing in the
sunlight, lay the place of my destination.
_Kaskaskia, Ill._
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Volume xxvii of our series begins with chapter xxxiii of the
original New York edition (1838) of Flagg's _The Far West_. The author
is here describing the part of his journey made in the late summer or
early autumn of 1836.--ED.
[2] The Vermilion River (which Flagg incorrectly wrote Little
Vermilion) rises, with several branches, in the western and southern
portions of La Salle County, and flows north and west, entering
Illinois River at Rock Island, in Livingston County.
Steelesville (formerly Georgetown) is about fifteen miles east of
Kaskaskia, on the road between Pinkneyville and Chester; the site was
settled on by George Steele in 1810. A block-house fort erected there
in 1812 protected the settlers against attacks from the Kickapoo
Indians. In 1825 a tread-mill was built, and two years later a store
and post-office were erected. The latter was named Steele's Mills. The
settlement was originally called Georgetown and later changed by an
act of state legislature to Steelesville, being surveyed in 1832.--ED.
[3] Chester is on the Mississippi River, in Randolph County, just
below the mouth of Kaskaskia River. In the summer of 1829, Samuel
Smith built the first house there, and two years later he, together
with Mather, Lamb and Company, platted the town site. It was named by
Jane Smith from her native town, Chester, England, and was made the
seat of justice for Randolph in 1848.--ED.
[4] Flagg is probably referring to Colonel Pierre Menard. See our
volume xxvi, p. 165, note 116.--ED.
XXXIV
"Protected by the divinity they adored, supported by the earth
which they cultivated, and at peace with themselves, they enjoyed
the sweets of life without dreading or desiring
dissolution."--NUMA POMPILIUS.
"A pleasing land of drowsy head it was,
Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye."
_Castle of Indolence._
In a country like our own, where everything is fresh and recent, and
where nothing has yet been swept by the mellowing touch of departed
time, any object which can lay but the most indifferent claim to
antiquity fails not to be hailed with delighted attention. "You have,"
say they of the other hemisphere, "no ivy-mantled towers; no
moss-grown, castellated ruins; no donjon-keeps rearing in dark sublimity
their massive walls and age-bleached battlements; nothing to span the
mighty chasm of bygone years, and to lead down the fancy into the
shadowy realms of the past; and, _therefore_, your country is steril in
moral interest." Now, though this _corollary_ is undoubtedly false, I
yet believe the proposition in the main to be _true_: especially is this
the case with regard to that region which lies west of the Alleghany
range. Little as there may be in the elder sections of our Atlantic
states to demand veneration for the past, no sooner does the traveller
find himself gliding along the silvery wave [CXXXVI] of the "beautiful
river," than at the same moment he finds himself forsaking all that the
fairy creations of genius have ever consecrated, or the roll of the
historian chronicled for coming time. All is NEW. The very soil on which
he treads, fertile beyond comparison, and festering beneath the
undisturbed vegetation of centuries; the rolling forests, bright,
luxuriant, gorgeous as on the dawn of creation; the endless streams
pouring onward in their fresh magnificence to the ocean, all seem new.
The inhabitants are emigrants late from other lands, and every operation
of human skill on which the eye may rest betrays a recent origin. There
is but a single exception to these remarks--those mysterious monuments
of a race whom we know not of!
In consideration, therefore, of the circumstance that antiquities in
this blessed land of ours are, indeed, very few and far between, I deem
it the serious duty of every traveller, be he virtuoso or be he not,
whenever once so happy as to lay his grasp upon an antique "in any form,
in any shape," just to hold fast to the best of his ability! Such,
reader, be it known, was my own praiseworthy determination when drawing
nigh to the eastern shore of the stream opposite the ancient French
village Kaskaskia. The sun was going down, and as I approached the sandy
edge of the sea-green water, a gay bevy of young folks were whirling the
long, narrow, skiff-like ferry-boat like a bird across the stream, by
means of a hawser to which it was attached, and which extended from
shore to shore. In my own turn I stepped into the boat, and in a few
moments the old French [CXXXVII] negro had forced it half across the
river, at this spot about three or four hundred yards in width. For one
who has ever visited Kaskaskia in the last beautiful days of summer, a
pen like my own need hardly be employed to delineate the loveliness of
the scene which now opened upon the view. For miles the gleamy surface
of the gentle Kaskaskia might be seen retreating from the eye, till lost
at length in its windings through the forests of its banks, resting
their deep shadows on the stream in all the calm magnificence of
inanimate nature. The shore I was leaving swelled gracefully up from the
water's edge, clothed in forests until it reached the bluffs, which
towered abrupt and loftily; while here and there along the landscape the
low roof of a log cabin could be caught peeping forth from the dark
shrubbery. The bank of the stream I was approaching presented an aspect
entirely the reverse; less lovely, but more picturesque. A low sandy
beach stretched itself more than a mile along the river, destitute of
trees, and rounding itself gently away into a broad green plain. Upon
this plain--a portion of the American Bottom--at the distance of a few
hundred yards from the water, is situated all that now remains of "old
Kaskaskia." From the centre rises a tall Gothic spire, hoary with time,
surmounted by an iron cross; and around this nucleus are clustered
irregularly, at various intervals, the heavy-roofed, time-stained
cottages of the French inhabitants. These houses are usually like those
of the West India planters--but a single story in height--and the
surface which they occupy is, [CXXXVIII] of course, in the larger class,
proportionably increased. They are constructed, some of rough limestone,
some of timber, framed in every variety of position--horizontal,
perpendicular, oblique, or all united--thus retaining their shape till
they rot to the ground, with the interstices stuffed with the fragments
of stone, and the external surface stuccoed with mortar; others--a few
only--are framed, boarded, etc., in modern style. Nearly all have
galleries in front, some of them spacious, running around the whole
building, and all have garden-plats enclosed by stone walls or
stoccades. Some of these curious-looking structures are old, having
bided the storm-winds of more than a century. It is this circumstance
which throws over the place that antiquated, venerable aspect to which I
have alluded, and which equally applies to all the other villages of
this peculiar people I have yet spoken of. The city of Philadelphia and
this neglected village of Kaskaskia are, as regards age, the same to a
year;[5] but while every object which, in the one, meets the eye, looks
fresh as if but yesterday touched by the last chiselling of the
architect, in the latter the thoughts are carried back at least to
Noah's ark! Two centuries have rolled by since the "city of the
Pilgrims" ceased to be a "cornfield;" but where will you now look for a
solitary relic of that olden time? "State-street," the scene where
American blood was first poured out by British soldiery; "Old
Cornhill;" the site of the "Liberty-tree;" and the wharf from which the
tea was poured into the dock, are indeed pointed out to you as spots
memorable [CXXXIX] in the history of the "Leaguer of Boston;" and yonder
frowns the proud height of Bunker's Hill; _there_ lay the British
battle-ships, and _there_ was "burning Charlestown:" but, with almost
the solitary exception of the "Old South" Church, with the cannon-ball
imbedded in its tower, where shall we look for an _object_ around which
our associations may cluster? This is not the case with these old
villages. A century has looked down upon the same objects, in the same
situations and under the same relations, with a change scarcely
appreciable. Yon aged church-tower has thrown its venerable shadow alike
over the Indian _corn-dance_, the rude _cotillon_ of the French
villager, the Spanish _fandango_, the Virginia _reel_, and the Yankee
_frolic_. Thus, then, when I speak of these places with reference to
antiquity, I refer not so much to the actual lapse of years as to the
present aspect and age of the individual objects. In this view there are
few spots in our country which may lay more undisputed claim to
antiquity than these early French settlements in the Western Valley.
There is one feature of these little villages to which I have not at
this time alluded, but which is equally amusing and characteristic,
and which never fails to arrest the stranger's observation. I refer to
the narrowness of those avenues _intended_ for streets. It is no very
strange thing that in aged Paris structure should be piled upon
structure on either side even to the clouds, while hardly a footpath
exists between; but that in this vast Western world a custom, in all
respects the same, should have prevailed, [CXL] surpasseth
understanding. This must have resulted not surely from lack of
_elbow-room_, but from the marvellous sociality of the race, or from
that attachment to the customs of their own fatherland which the
Frenchman ever betrays. In agriculture and the mechanic arts they are
now about as well skilled, notwithstanding the improvements which they
must perceive have been going on around them, as on the day their
fathers first planted foot on this broad land. The same implements of
husbandry and the arts which a century since were seen in France, are
now seen here; the very vehicle they drive is the vineyard-car, which
is presented us in representations of rustic life in the older
provinces of the same land. The same characteristics of feeling and
action are here displayed as there, and the Gallic tongue is sacredly
transmitted from father to son. But here the parallel ceases. We can
trace but little resemblance between the staid, simple-hearted French
villager of the Mississippi Valley, and the gay, frivolous, dissolute
cotemporary of the fifteenth Louis; still less to the countryman of a
Marat or a Robespierre, rocked upon the bloody billow of the "Reign of
Terror;" and less than either to the high-minded, polished Frenchman
of the nineteenth century. The same fact has been remarked of the
Spanish population of Florida and Mexico; their resemblance to their
ancestors, who have been slumbering for more than three centuries in
their graves, is far more striking than to their present brethren of
"Old Castile." The cause of this is not difficult to detect. The
customs, the [CXLI] manners, the very idioms of nations never remain
for any considerable period of time invariably the same: other men,
other times, other circumstances, when assisted by civil or religious
revolutions, produce surprising changes in the parent land, while the
scanty colony, separated by mountains and seas, not more from the roar
and commotion than from the influenced sphere of these events,
slumbers quietly on from century to century, handing down from father
to son those peculiarities, unaltered, which migrated with them.
Climate, soil, location, though far from exclusive, are by no means
inconsiderable agents in affecting character in all its relations of
intellect, temperament, and physical feature. And thus has it chanced
that we now look upon a race of men separated but a few centuries from
the parent stock, yet exhibiting characteristics in which there are
few traits common to both.
It was through one of those long, narrow, lane-like streets to which I
have alluded, and, withal, a most unconscionably filthy one, that I
rode from the landing of the ferry to the inn. The low-roofed,
broad-galleried cottages on either side seemed well stocked with a
race of dark-eyed, dark-haired, swarthy-looking people, all, from the
least unto the tallest, luxuriating in the mellow atmosphere of
evening; all, as if by the same right, staring most unceremoniously at
the stranger; and all apparently summing up, but in the uncouthest
style imaginable, their divers surmises respecting his country,
lineage, occupation, etc., etc. The forms and features of these French
villagers are perfectly unique, at least in our [CXLII] country, and
one can hardly fail distinguishing them at first sight, even among a
crowd, once having seen them. Their peculiarities are far more
striking than those of our German or Irish population. A few
well-dressed, _genteel_ gentlemen were lounging about the piazza of
the inn as I drew nigh, and a polite landlord, courteously pressing
forward, held the stirrup of the traveller and requested him to
alight. Something of a contrast, this, to the attention a stranger
usually is blessed with from not more than nine tenths of the worthy
publicans of Illinois. Alas! for the aristocracy of the nineteenth
century! But _n'importe_. With the easy air of gentility and taste
which seemed to pervade the inn at Kaskaskia in all its departments,
few could have failed to be pleased. For myself, I was also
surprised. Everything about the establishment was in the French style,
and here was spread the handsomest _table d'hôte_ it has been my
fortune to witness in Illinois.
The moon was pouring gloriously down in misty mellowness upon the
low-roofed tenements of this antiquated village, when, leaving my
chamber, I stepped from the inn for a leisure stroll through its streets
and lanes. Passing the gray old church,[6] bathed in the dim, melting
moonlight of a summer night, such as for more than a century had smiled
upon its consecrated walls as one year had chased away another, the next
considerable structure which arrested my attention was a huge, ungainly
edifice of brick, like Joseph's coat, _of many colours_, forsooth, and,
withal, sadly ruinous as regards the item of windows. This latter
circumstance, aside from [CXLIII] every other, agreeable to all observed
precedent, would have notified me of the fact that this was neither more
nor less than a western courthouse. Continuing my careless ramble among
the cottages, I passed several whose piazzas were thronged with young
people; and at intervals from the midst rang out, on the mild evening
air, the gay fresh laugh, and the sweet, soft tones of woman. A stately
structure of stone, buried in foliage, next stood beside me, and from
its open doors and windows issued the tumultuous melody of the piano. A
few steps, and the innocent merriment of two young girls hanging upon a
gentleman's arms struck my ear. They passed me. Both were young; and
one, a gazelle-eyed brunette, in the pale moonlight, was beautiful. The
blithe creatures were full of frolic and fun, and the light Gallic
tongue seemed strangely musical from those bright lips. But
enough--enough of my evening's ramble--nay, more than enough: I am
waxing sentimental. It was at a late hour, after encountering divers
untold adventures, that I found myself once more at my hotel. The
gallery was thronged with French gentlemen, and it was some hours before
the laugh and chatter had died away, and the old village was buried in
slumber.
_Kaskaskia, Ill._
FOOTNOTES:
[5] Philadelphia was founded in 1682. There has been much discussion
about the exact date of the founding of Kaskaskia. E. G. Mason was of
the opinion that this uncertainty had arisen in the confounding of
Kaskaskia with an earlier Indian settlement of the same name on the
Illinois River. It seems probable that Kaskaskia on the Mississippi
was started in 1699. Consult E. G. Mason, "Kaskaskia and its Parish
Records," in _Magazine of American History_ (New York, 1881), vi, pp.
161-182, and _Chapters from Illinois History_ (Chicago, 1901); also C.
W. Alvord, _The Old Kaskaskia Records_ (Chicago Historical Society,
1906). See also A. Michaux's _Travels_, in our volume iii, p. 69, note
132.--ED.
[6] The church of the Immaculate Conception, the first permanent
structure of its kind west of the Alleghany Mountains, was built in
1720. It was torn down in 1838 and a large brick church built. For a
more detailed description of the former, see _post_, pp. 62-64.--ED.
XXXV
"Glanced many a light caïque along the foam,
Danced on the shore the daughters of the land."
BYRON.
"How changed the scene since merry Jean Baptiste
Paddled his pirouge on La Belle Rivière,
And from its banks some lone Loyola priest
Echoed the night song of the voyageur."
It is now more than a century and a half since the sturdy Canadian
voyageurs, treading in the footsteps of the adventurous Sieur la
Salle, forsaking the bleak shores and wintry skies of the St.
Lawrence, first planted themselves upon the beautiful hunting-grounds
of the peaceful Illini. Long before the Pilgrim Fathers of
New-England, or the distressed exiles of Jamestown, scattered along
the steril shores of the Atlantic, had formed even a conception of the
beautiful valley beyond the mountains--while this vast North American
continent was yet but a wilderness, and the nations of Christendom,
ignorant of its character or of its extent, knew not by whom of right
it should be appropriated--a few French Jesuit priests had ascended in
their bark canoes a distance of three thousand miles from the mouth of
the "endless river," and had explored its tributaries to their
fountains. It is with admiration almost bordering on astonishment
that we view the bold adventures of these daring men.[7] [CXLV] The
cause of their fearless undertaking was, we are told, to investigate
the truth of an idea which at that era was prevalent among the
Canadian French, that a western passage through the American continent
existed to the Pacific Ocean. The Indian hunters had spoken of a vast
stream far away to the west, which on their long excursions they had
seen, but of whose source, course, or termination they could tell
nothing. This river was supposed to disgorge itself into the Pacific
Seas; and, to prosecute the inquiry, Father Marquette, a recollet
monk, and Sieur Joliet, an Indian trader of Quebec, by authority of M.
Talon, Intendant of New France, a man of singular enterprise, entered
upon the expedition. Thridding the great chain of the Northern Lakes
in their slender skiffs, and pursuing the Ouisconsin River, on the
17th of June, 1673, the first Europeans descended the "Father of
Waters."[8] By the natives whom they met they were kindly received,
and entertained with a deference due only to superior beings. Among
these Indians, the Illini, then residing on both sides of the
Mississippi, were chief, and their nation was made up of seven
distinct tribes: the Miamies, Michigamies, Mascotins, Kaskaskias,
Kahokias, Peorias, and Taumarwaus, a peaceful, benevolent, unwarlike
race.[9] A village was found at the mouth of the Illinois. Descending
the Mississippi, the French voyageurs were dissuaded from their design
of exploring the Missouri by a tradition of the natives that near its
mouth dwelt a _Manito_, whose residence no human being could pass with
life: nor did the Indians fail to tell the legend of [CXLVI] the
_Piasa_ cliff above. Turning up the Illinois, therefore, they glided
with amazement through the green woodlands and over the silvery wave
of that beautiful stream. It is, perhaps, at this distant day, and in
the present era of "speculators and economists," hardly possible to
conceive the delighted emotions which must then have swelled the
bosoms of those simple-hearted men. Sieur Joliet, on his return to
Canada, published an account of his adventures, in which narrative
language seems almost too meager for description of the golden land he
had seen.[10] Father Marquette remained a missionary among the
peaceful Indians. To the river partially explored was given the name
of the celebrated Colbert, Minister of Marine, by Count de Frontenac;
and to the trader Joliet, as a reward, was granted the island of
Anticosti in the Gulf of St. Lawrence.[11]
Years passed away, and no enterprising spirit rose up to prosecute the
discoveries already made. The missionary Marquette died among the
Indians two years after, and Joliet took possession of his island. At
length appears M. Robert, Cavalier de la Salle, a native of Rouen in
Normandy, celebrated as the birthplace of Fontenelle and the two
Corneilles, and for the martyrdom of the heroic Maid of Orleans more
than two centuries before. La Salle was a man of bold talents and
dauntless enterprise. Ambitious of fame and wealth, he emigrated to
Canada; listened to the wonderful tales of the _endless river_;
conceived the idea of a Northwest Passage to the East Indies;
communicated his views to the commandant of Fort Frontenac on Lake
Ontario, [CXLVII] and was advised to lay his plan before the Court of
St. Cloud. On his arrival at Paris, under the patronage of the Prince
de Conti, La Salle received letters of nobility and extensive grants
of land in America. Associating with himself the Chevalier de Tonti,
an Italian officer, who had the peculiarity of a copper hand as
substitute to one lost in the wars of Sicily, and Father Lewis
Hennepin, a Franciscan friar, as historian and missionary, together
with about thirty others, the enterprise was immediately entered upon,
under special sanction of Louis XIV., king of France. After a variety
of fortune, prosperous and adverse, they reached the Illinois, and
having descended that beautiful river some distance, discovered an
Indian village consisting of five hundred cabins completely deserted.
Here, having found a large quantity of corn concealed in the earth
under each of the wigwams, the party remained six days. Descending
ninety miles, they came to Peoria Lake, where they found two
encampments of the natives. At first hostility was manifested, but
soon they were on most amicable terms with the voyageurs, and a
feasting, and dancing, and rejoicing was kept up for three days. Not
long after this the boat containing supplies was lost upon "_Le Baie
des Puants_," or Green Bay; and La Salle was forced to erect a fort,
which received the appropriate name of "_Creve Cœur_"--broken heart.
The site of this fortification is supposed to have been a spot now
called "Spring Bay," not far from Peoria, on the Illinois. This is a
singular place. It is a broad sand basin, some hundred feet [CXLVIII]
in diameter, opening upon the river, the waters of which, in the
higher stages, fill it to the brim, but when low they retire, and a
number of large springs gush copiously forth from three sides of the
ridge, and form a stream. "Blue Creek" empties itself just below,
crossed by a bridge of earth, while yet farther down is seen a large
mound, which has been opened, and found to contain human remains
twenty feet from the summit.[12]
At the time of the erection of Fort _Creve Cœur_ the Illini were at
war with the warlike Iroquois Indians; and the former, anticipating
assistance from their friends the French, and receiving none, resolved
to destroy La Salle. His boldness and eloquence alone saved him and
restored amity. No sooner was this disturbance quelled than a mutiny
arose among his own men. On Christmas-day his dinner was poisoned, and
powerful medicine alone saved his life.
Preparations were now made to explore the Mississippi. Father
Hennepin, with four Frenchmen, two Indians, and M. Dacan, commander,
ascended the river to the falls, and named them, in honour of their
patron saint, _St. Anthony_. They were here taken prisoners by a party
of Sioux, carried one hundred and sixty miles into the interior to
their villages, and detained several months, when they regained their
liberty. Father Hennepin returned to Canada, and subsequently to
France, where he published his travels in splendid style, dedicating
the book to the celebrated Colbert. These early writings, though
deeply imbued with a spirit of superstition [CXLIX] and exaggeration,
are yet valuable as the _only_ records of the time.[13] The chief of
these historians were Hennepin, Tonti, and Charlevoix.[14]
Difficulties arising with the Indians, La Salle resolved to erect
another fort, which, after infinite difficulty, was completed. The
site is described as "a rock, very high, the top of which was even and
of convenient space, so that it commanded the river and country round
about." This description applies to no place on the Illinois so well
as to the "Starved Rock." The fort was called "St. Louis."
La Salle visited Canada, and a crowd of adventurers returned with him.
Descending the Illinois and Mississippi, the company stopped for some
time at the mouth of the Missouri, then the _Osage_ River, and found a
village of the Taumarwaus, which was deserted, the natives being on a
hunting expedition. In three days they were at the _Oubachi_ or Ohio. At
the Chicasaw Bluffs a fort called _Prudhomme_ was erected, and formal
possession of the country first taken, and, in honour of the reigning
monarch, named _Louisiana_. Several other forts were erected, and one
of them, the ruins of which yet remain, is supposed to have stood
between St. Louis and Carondelet. Descending the river on the 7th of
April, 1683, La Salle reached the Gulf of Mexico, where a _Te Deum_ was
sung; a cross, with the arms of France, was suspended from the summit of
a lofty tree; and the river, which had occupied three months in its
exploration of about one thousand miles, was named "St. [CL] Louis." On
his return, the associates of La Salle founded the villages of Kaskaskia
and Cahokia on the American Bottom, while he hastened on to Canada and
thence to France, to obtain a colony for the country at the mouth of the
Mississippi. Losing his route on returning with this expedition, he
commenced a journey over land to Illinois; but, while on his way, was
treacherously assassinated by two of his followers.[15] It is a
remarkable fact in the history of retributive justice, that these men
soon after dealt death to each other; and two priests of the mutineers
became penitent, and confessed all the circumstances of the crime. The
burial spot of the noble La Salle is unknown to this day. Marquette,
"the apostle of the wilderness," died under circumstances of touching
interest on the lonely shores of Lake Michigan while upon his mission.
Charlevoix, the historian, throws an interest of melancholy romance over
the fate of this venerable man. According to this writer, Father Joseph
Marquette was a native of Laon, in Picardy, and of distinguished family.
About two years after his discovery of the Mississippi, while engaged in
his missionary labours among the savages, he was journeying from Chicago
to Michillimackinac, and on the 8th of May, 1675, entered the mouth of a
small river emptying into Lake Michigan upon its eastern side, which now
bears his name. Here he landed, erected an altar, and said mass. After
this ceremony he retired a short distance, and requested the two
voyageurs who conducted his canoe to leave him alone for half an hour,
while in private [CLI] he returned thanks. The period having expired,
they went to seek him, and found him dead in the attitude of
devotion:[16] the circumstance then recurred to them, that, on entering
the river, he had dropped an intimation that he should there end his
days. The distance was too great to Michillimackinac to convey there his
remains, and the voyageurs accordingly buried them near the bank of the
stream, which they called by his name. From that time the river, as if
from reverence for the missionary's relics, has continued to retire, and
his grave is yet pointed out to the traveller. Thus did the venerable
Marquette, at an advanced age, alone with his God, yield up his
blameless life to its giver, while engaged in his holy errand of peace
to the savage, and amid the magnificent solitudes of the land of his
discovery.
Subsequent to these explorations, colonies from Lower Canada rapidly
settled the recent villages of Kaskaskia, Cahokia, and Peoria.[17] But
their designs seem not to have been those of the speculators of our own
day. Their sole anticipation was to amass opulence by mining in a
country then supposed incalculably rich in the precious metals, from its
resemblance to the silver region of South America; and we find exclusive
grants of extensive tracts bearing this date to Cruzat, Renault, and
other individuals.[18] In pursuit of this golden chimera, many
expeditions were fitted out at vast expense. In 1699 M. de Seur, an
enterprising traveller, with ninety men, descended the Mississippi to a
spot six hundred miles above the Illinois, and erected a fort [CLII]
upon the present site of Fort Armstrong for the purpose of exploring a
mine of _terre verte_, said to have been discovered in that beautiful
region.[19] It need hardly be said that all these adventurers were
disappointed: but the buoyant hilarity of the race did not forsake them,
and as boatmen, hunters, _couriers du bois_, Indian traders, and small
farmers,[20] they gained a comfortable subsistence, and merrily did they
enjoy it. Most of their lives were passed upon the broad prairies, and
in penetrating every section of this vast valley in their birch pirogues
wherever a stream presented to them its bosom; and yet with the violin,
the grape-juice, and a short pipe, they seemed the blithest mortals on
the face of the earth. It was by men such as these that the village of
Kaskaskia, in old French chronicles styled "_Notre dame de
Cascasquias_," originating in the name and residence of an Indian tribe,
first was settled; and in a few years it had become an extensive depôt
for the trade in furs. It was probably by the same Indian tribe which
originally possessed the site of Kaskaskia that a party of the
unfortunate expedition of Ferdinand de Soto, by whom Florida was
partially conquered, was almost destroyed about the year 1539. Indeed,
there was a tradition still extant upon the arrival of the French, of
their having exterminated the first _white faces_ they had ever seen.
For three years did the chivalrous De Soto, with his nine hundred
steel-clad warriors, scour the land in search of the reality of his
golden dreams: at length he died; he was an object of hatred and terror
to the Indians; and to conceal his death, or to [CLIII] preserve from
violation his remains, his followers enclosed them in a coffin
constructed from the section of a hollow tree, and sunk them beneath the
floods of the _eternal river_. His followers, reduced to only two
hundred and fifty, returned to Spain. And so the burial-places of the
first explorers of the Mississippi are unknown.[21]
The extent of the territory of Kaskaskia was originally very great,
stretching from the Kaskaskia River to the Mississippi, a breadth of
about two miles, and comprising the area from the confluence of the
streams, seven miles below, to the present site of the place. The
tract below the town is incalculably fertile, abounding in the plum,
the persimmon, the cherry, the delicate _pecan_, the hickory, and the
hazel-nut; and for the most part was comprised in one vast "common
field," over which herds of wild horses, introduced by the emigrants,
long roamed in undisturbed possession. This _common_, consisting of
seven thousand acres, was granted "to Kaskaskia and inhabitants for
ever" by Vaudreuil, governor of the Province of Louisiana, as early as
1743.[22] In this arrangement we observe a striking feature in the
policy both of the French and Spanish governments, in their early
settlements on the Mississippi. The items of door-yards, gardens,
stable-yards, etc., and of settling colonies in the compact form of
towns and villages, as a protection from the savages and to promote
social intercourse, were all matters of special requisition and
enactment; while to each [CLIV] settlement was granted two tracts of
land for "_common fields_" and "_commons_." This distinction was not,
however, invariably observed. The former consisted of several hundred
acres, conveniently divided among the individual families, and the
whole enclosed by the labour of all the villagers in common. If the
enclosure opposite any plat was suffered to become ruinous, the right
to the common was forfeited by the offending individual. The seasons,
also, for ploughing, sowing, reaping, etc., were by public ordinance
simultaneous: yet with these restrictions, each individual, so long as
he complied with the necessary regulations, possessed his lot in
_franc allieu_--fee simple, subject to sale and transfer. The
"_common_" was a far more extended tract, embracing in some instances
several thousand acres without enclosure, and reserved for the purpose
of wood and pasturage. Here there was no grant of severalty, and no
individual portion could be appropriated without the special and
unanimous consent of the whole village. To the indigent who came to
settle among them, and to young married pairs, donations from this
tract were often made by the villagers, and, if conveniently situated,
might subsequently become a portion of the "_common field_."[23] That
such an arrangement, under all the circumstances of the period when
instituted, and with such a people as the early French settlers, was
the best that could have been made, no one can doubt. But how such a
regulation would suit a race of _enterprising_ Yankees, fidgeting
eternally for _improvements_, or a squad of long-sided Kentuckians,
grumbling about elbow-room, is problematical.
[CLV] The proceedings of our national government towards these ancient
villages have been characterized by generosity, whatever may be said
of the conduct of individuals. In 1788, an extensive tract lying along
the Mississippi was by act of Congress granted to the French
inhabitants east of that river; and to those of Kaskaskia was secured
for a common field twenty thousand acres. It is under direction of the
trustees of the town by provision of the state legislature.[24]
Unlike the policy of all other Europeans who have planted themselves
upon the Western continent, that of the French emigrants towards the
aborigines, with the single exception of the extermination of the
Natchez in the South, has invariably been conciliatory, peaceable, and
friendly.[25] This has been the effect rather of debasing themselves
than of elevating the natives. Surrounded by everything which could
fascinate the eye or delight the fancy, we find these inoffensive
foreigners, therefore, unlike the English settlers along the Atlantic
and in the elder Western states, at peace with all their savage
neighbours; unambitious, contented, and happy, increasing and
flourishing; and in a few years, they tell us, Kaskaskia, "the
terrestrial paradise," numbered a population of eight thousand
souls![26] Blessed with a soil of boundless fertility, and prolific in
all Nature's luxurious stores to a degree of which less-favoured climes
can form no conception: subsisting solely by culture of the little
homesteads around their own thresholds, by hunting [CLVI] the wild
denizens of their noble forests, or angling upon the calm bosom of their
beautiful stream: simple-hearted and peaceful, almost without the
_terms_ of law, gently ruled by the restraints of a religion they
venerated and a priesthood they loved: without commerce, the arts, or
the elegances of life; a thousand miles from a community of civilized
men; from year to year they went on, and from generation to generation
they flourished, until, in that of our own age and our own day, they are
found still treading in the steps in which their fathers trod! So long
as the peaceful French villager retained the beautiful land of his
adoption in undisputed possession, all was flourishing and prosperous. A
little more than half a century from its origin, Kaskaskia was capital
of Illinois; and on the visit of Charlevoix in 1721, a monastery and
Jesuit college was in successful operation, the ruins of the edifice
remaining extant even at the present day.[27] This institution was
successful in converting a number of the aborigines to its peculiar
tenets, and at one period _is said_ to have "embraced twenty-five
hundred catechumens!!" A most preposterous assertion, most assuredly.
It was in the early part of this century that the scheme of that
celebrated projector, John Law, of Edinburgh, on the strength of which
he elevated himself to the dignity of Comptroller-general of the
Finance of France, was first set on foot with reference to the Valley
of the Mississippi. The design, so far as it is now known, was to
establish a bank, an East India, and a Mississippi Company, from
[CLVII] the anticipated enormous revenue of which was to be liquidated
the national debt of France.[28] The territory of Louisiana had
already acquired a reputation abroad for the boundlessness of the
wealth and fertility of its soil; and, to foster the delusion of Law's
scheme, descriptions of this beautiful region, tinted with all the
rainbow hues of romance, were scattered throughout Europe, until the
distant wilderness of _les Illinois_ became the paradise of the
slumberer's vision. "The Illinois" was the fairyland of fancy
realized. A few years, the vast fabric of fictitious credit crumbled,
almost annihilating the finance of France, and burying thousands of
families in its ruins. Law was exiled and retired to Venice, where in
poverty he soon died. It is a coincidence not a little remarkable,
that the same year, 1720, witnessed the same desperate game enacted by
the South Sea directors in England. But the attention of France was
now directed towards her remote colony in North America; and
notwithstanding the failure of Law's scheme, old Kaskaskia continued
to flourish beyond all compare. Other villages sprang into existence
around; a lucrative fur-trade was carried on by the Canadian
voyageurs, and agriculture became the peculiar province of the French
villager. The extent and luxuriance of the agriculture at this period
may be [CLVIII] gathered from the fact, that in the single year 1746,
eight hundred thousand weight of flour was sent to New Orleans from
these settlements.[29] At this period there was not a solitary village
west of the Mississippi, though the lead-mines then known and worked
were resorted to by traders.[30] Twenty years after the failure of
Law's scheme, the French government formed the design, almost as
chimerical, of securing her immense possessions in the Mississippi
Valley by a continuous line of military posts, connecting them with
Canada; and vast were the sums of money expended in the undertaking.
A century, and the whole region was ceded to England, thence to our
own government in 1783, and now old Kaskaskia is but the wreck of its
former prosperity. It makes one almost sad to wander about among these
ruinous, deserted habitations, venerable with departed years, and
reflect that once they were thronged with population, the seat of
hospitality, and the home of kindly feeling. The quiet villagers have
been not a little annoyed by the steady and rapid influx of
immigration on every side of them, dissimilar in customs, language,
religion, and temperament, while the bustling enterprise has fretted
and displeased them. Long accustomed, also, to the arbitrary but
parental authority of their military commandants and priesthood, they
deemed the introduction of the common law among them exceedingly
burdensome, and the duties of a citizen of a republic, of which we are
so [CLIX] proud, intolerable drudgery. Many, therefore, of the wealthy
and respectable, on cession of their territory to our government,
removed to Louisiana, where civil law yet bears sway; others crossed
the river and established Ste. Genevieve and St. Louis;[31] while the
foreigners returning to the lands from which they had emigrated, few
but natives of the country remained behind. The ordinance of 1787,[32]
prohibiting involuntary servitude in the region then called the
Northwestern Territory, induced many who were desirous of preserving
their blacks to remove to the new villages west of the Mississippi,
then under Spanish rule. From these and a variety of similar causes,
this peaceful, kind-hearted people have within the last thirty years
been more than once disturbed in the dwellings of their fathers.
_Kaskaskia, Ill._
FOOTNOTES:
[7] Hall.--FLAGG.
[8] Jacques Marquette was a Jesuit missionary, not a Recollect.
Consult R. G. Thwaites, _Father Marquette_ (New York, 1902). On
Jolliet see Francis Parkman, _La Salle_ (Boston, 1869); and the latest
authority, Ernest Gagnon, _Louis Jolliet_ (Quebec, 1902).--ED.
[9] For a short note on the Illinois Indians, consult our volume xxvi,
p. 123, note 86.--ED.
[10] Flagg errs in saying that Jolliet published an account of his
adventures. His journal was lost in the St. Lawrence River on the
return journey. Father Marquette, however, wrote a journal of his
travels. See Thwaites, _Jesuit Relations_, lix, which also contains
Jolliet's map of North America (1674).--ED.
[11] The Island of Anticosti, in the estuary of St. Lawrence River,
contains about 3,900 square miles, and is not only of importance as a
centre of hunting and fishing interests, but is rich in undeveloped
mineral resources. The population of a few hundred souls is chiefly
concerned in fishing. The island is now the property of M. Henri
Menier, a Parisian chocolate manufacturer, who personally rules his
seigniory with benevolent despotism.--ED.
[12] Concerning La Salle's discoveries, see Ogden's _Letters from the
West_, in our volume xix, pp. 44-53, and accompanying notes.--ED.
[13] Concerning Hennepin's expedition from Crêvecœur to the Falls of St.
Anthony, Flagg is in error. Hennepin was accompanied by two Frenchmen,
Michel Accault and Antoine Auguel, and probably went merely as their
spiritual companion. His publications were: _Description de la
Louisiane_ (Paris, 1683); _Nouvelle Découverte d'un tres grand Pays
Situé dans l'Amérique_ (Utrecht, 1697); _Nouveau Voyage d'un Pais plus
grand que l'Europe_ (Utrecht, 1698). The first was dedicated to Louis
XIV, the last two to William III, king of England. For bibliography of
Hennepin, see Victor Hugo Paltsits, "Bibliographical Data," in Thwaites,
_Hennepin's New Discovery_ (Chicago, 1903), pp. xlv-lxiv.--ED.
[14] M. Tonti, among other writers, speaking of the country, according
to Mr. Peck's translation, says:
"The soil is, generally speaking, so fertile, that it produces
naturally, without culture, those fruits that nature and art together
have much ado to bring forth in Europe. They have two crops every year
without any great fatigue. The vines bring extraordinary grapes,
without the care of the husbandman, and the fruit-trees need no
gardeners to look after them. The air is everywhere temperate. The
country is watered with navigable rivers, and delicious brooks and
rivulets. It is stocked with all sorts of beasts, as bulls,
_orignacs_, wolves, lions, wild asses, stags, goats, sheep, foxes,
hares, beavers, otters, dogs, and all sorts of fowl, which afford a
plentiful game for the inhabitants."
In another place, this writer gives an amusing account of hunting "wild
bulls," which "go always by droves of three or four hundred each." This
description answers well for the buffalo, but it is not so easy to
determine what animals they mistook for "wild asses, goats, and sheep."
Passing down the Mississippi, Tonti mentions the same animals, and
describes the forest-trees with tolerable accuracy, had he not added,
"one sees there whole plains covered with pomegranate-trees,
orange-trees, and lemon-trees; and, in one word, with all kinds of
fruit-trees." Goats are frequently mentioned by different writers.
Hennepin, while narrating the account of an embassy from Fort
Frontenac to the Iroquois nation, and the reception the party met
with, says: "The younger savages washed our feet, and rubbed them with
grease of deer, _wild goats_, and oil of bears." When upset in their
boat and cast on the western shore of Lake Michigan, an Indian of
their company "killed several stags and wild goats."
Wild goats are named so frequently, and in so many connexions, as
hardly to admit of an intentional misrepresentation.--FLAGG.
_Comment by Ed._ For sketches of Charlevoix and Tonty, see Nuttall's
_Journal_, in our volume xiii, pp. 116 and 117, notes 81 and 85
respectively.
[15] For a recent work on La Salle, consult P. Chesnel, _Histoire de
Cavelier de La Salle_ (Paris, 1901). With the exception of Crêvecœur,
Prudhomme, and St. Louis, we have no definite proof that La Salle
established any other forts in the Mississippi Valley. He erected a
monument at the mouth of the Mississippi on April 9, 1682, on taking
possession of the country in the name of Louis XIV. Kaskaskia and
Cahokia were not founded by the associates of La Salle on the latter's
return. For historical sketches of these towns, see A. Michaux's
_Travels_, in our volume iii, p. 69, note 132, and p. 70, note 135,
respectively. La Salle was assassinated March 19, 1687, on a branch of
the Trinity River, in the present state of Texas.--ED.
[16] Father Marquette died May 18, 1675, on the present site of
Ludington, Michigan.--ED.
[17] For the settlement of Peoria, see our volume xxvi, p. 133, note
93.--ED.
[18] Owing to the exhaustion of France following the War of the Spanish
Succession, Louis XIV, determined to develop the resources of the vast
Louisiana territory, granted (September 14, 1712) to Antoine Crozat, a
wealthy merchant, the exclusive right of trade in Louisiana for a term
of fifteen years. Among other privileges, Crozat was permitted to send
one ship a year to Africa for a cargo of negroes; to possess and operate
all mines of precious metals in the territory, on the condition that a
fourth of the metal be turned over to the king; and to possess in
perpetuity all buildings and manufactories erected by him in the colony.
On the other hand, Crozat was obliged to import two shiploads of
colonists each year, and after nine years to assume all the expenses of
the government. In the meantime the king was to furnish fifty thousand
livres annually. Crozat did all in his power to develop the resources of
the country; but owing to discord among the subordinate officials, in
despair he surrendered the charter to the prince regent (August 13,
1717). See Charles Gayarré, _History of Louisiana_ (New Orleans, 1903).
After Crozat's surrender, Louisiana territory was turned over to the
Mississippi (or Western) Company, directed by John Law; see _post_, p.
49, note 28. Philip François Renault was made the principal agent for a
French company, whose purpose was the development of the mines of the
territory. In 1719 he sailed from France with more than two hundred
mechanics, stopped at the West Indies, and secured a cargo of five
hundred negro slaves, and in due course arrived at Fort Chartres in the
Illinois (1721). Large grants of land for mining purposes were made to
Renault--an extensive tract west of the Mississippi River; another,
fifteen leagues square, near the site of Peoria; and still another above
Fort Chartres, one league along the river and two leagues deep. He
founded St. Philippe, near the fort, and built what was probably the
first smelting furnace in the Mississippi Valley. In 1743 he returned to
France, where he died.--ED.
[19] Pierre Charles le Sueur went to Canada when a young man, and
engaged in the fur-trade. In 1693, while commandant at Chequamegon, he
erected two forts--one on Madelaine Island, in Chequamegon Bay (Lake
Superior), and another on an island in the Mississippi, near Red Wing,
Minnesota. Later he discovered lead mines along the upper Mississippi.
In 1699 he returned from a visit to France, and under Iberville's
directions searched for copper mines in the Sioux country, where Le
Sueur had earlier found green earth. Le Sueur reached the mouth of
Missouri River (July 13, 1700) with nineteen men, according to Bénard
de la Harpe's manuscript, compiled from Le Sueur's Journal--with
twenty-nine men, as related by Pénicaut, a member of the expedition.
The company was later increased to perhaps thirty or forty, but not
ninety, as Flagg says. Le Sueur ascended the Mississippi, and its
tributary the Minnesota, and erected a fort in August, 1700, one
league above the point where the Blue Earth River (St. Peter's River,
until 1852) empties into the Minnesota. This fort he named l'Huillier,
in honor of his patron in France. Flagg has confused this site with
that of Fort Armstrong at Rock Island, Illinois. In May, 1701, Le
Sueur left the fort in care of d'Eraque, who remained in charge until
1703, when he abandoned the place. For extracts from original
documents relating to Le Sueur's activities, consult: "Le Sueur's
Mines on the Mississippi," "Le Sueur's Voyage up the Mississippi," and
"Le Sueur's Fort on the Mississippi," in _Wisconsin Historical
Collections_, xvi, pp. 173, 174, 177-200.--ED.
[20] "_Petits paysans._"--FLAGG.
[21] The battle of Mauilla, to which Flagg is referring, was fought in
October, 1540, between De Soto's men and the Mobilian Indians, near
the present site of Mobile. Our author is mistaken in supposing that
these Indians were the Kaskaskia. De Soto reached the Mississippi in
May, 1541, and died May 21, 1542. He started on the expedition with
less than seven hundred men, instead of one thousand. According to
Herrera, his body was laid in a hollow live-oak log, and lowered into
the Mississippi; but it seems more probable that the corpse was
wrapped in mantles made heavy by a ballast of sand, and thus lowered
into the water. See John G. Shea, "Ancient Florida," in Justin Winsor,
_Narrative and Critical History of America_ (Boston and New York,
1886), ii, pp. 231-283; also E. G. Bourne (ed.) _Narratives of the
Career of Hernando de Soto_ (New York, 1904).--ED.
[22] Annexed is a copy of the grant of the celebrated _commons_
attached to the village of Kaskaskia. It is the earliest title the
citizens hold to seven thousand acres of the most fertile land in the
West--perhaps in the world.
"PIERRE DE RIGAULT DE VAUDREUIL, Governor and EDME GATIEN SALMON
Commissary orderer of the Province of Louisiana, seen the petition to
us presented on the sixteenth day of June of this present year by the
Inhabitants of the Parish of the Immaculate Conception of Kaskaskia
dependence of the Illinois, tending to be confirmed in the possession
of a common which they have had a long time for the pasturage of their
cattle in the Point called _La point de bois_, which runs to the
entrance of the River Kaskaskia. We, by virtue of the power to us
granted by his Majesty have confirmed and do confirm to the said
Inhabitants the possession of the said common on the following
conditions--
"First, That the concessions heretofore granted either by the India
Company either by our predecessors or by us in the prairie of
Kaskaskia on the side of the point which runs to the entrance of the
river, shall terminate at the land granted to a man named _Cavalier_,
and in consequence, that all concessions that may have been made on
the said point from the land of the said Cavalier forward, on the side
of the entrance of the said river shall be null and void and of no
effect. In consequence of which, the said Point, as it is above
designated, shall remain in common without altering its nature,
nevertheless, reserving to us the power whenever the case may require
it, of granting the said commons to the inhabitants established and
who may establish, and this, on the representations which may be made
to us by the commandants and sub-delegates in the said places.
"Secondly, on the road vulgarly called the _Square Line_ between the
large and small line shall be rendered practicable and maintained for
the passage of the Carts and Cattle going into the Common, and this by
lack of the proprietors as well of the great as of the small line
whose lands border on the roads of the _Square line_. And as to the
places which ought to run along the side of the village from the said
road of the Square line unto the river, as also the one on the side of
the point running to the Mississippi and to the Kaskaskia river, they
shall be made and maintained at the expense of the community, to the
end that the cultivated lands be not injured by the cattle.
"Thirdly, To facilitate to the inhabitants the means of making their
autumnal harvest, and prevent its being damaged by the cattle, we
forbid all persons to leave their cattle range upon cultivated
lands--they are, notwithstanding, permitted to graze upon their own
proper lands on having them diligently watched.
"Fourthly, Willing that the wood which is on the land granted belong
to the proprietors of the said lands, we forbid all persons to cut
down any elsewhere than on their own lands, and as to the wood which
may be found in the commons to cut down for their own use, either for
building or for fire wood, and this shall be the present regulation.
"Read, published and affixed to the end that no person may be ignorant
thereof. Given at New-Orleans the fourteenth day of August, 1743.
VAUDREUIL.
"SALMON."--FLAGG.
[23] "Under the old management all the inhabitants had equal access to
the commons for pasturage and fuel. By an act of the legislature
passed in 1854, the citizens were authorized to elect five trustees
every two years, who should exercise the charge of the commons, lease
portions thereof, and apply the proceeds to church and school purposes
only. The common fields were also originally owned jointly by the
villagers, though each resident was assigned an individual portion.
The United States commissioners, in 1809, determined the rights of
each citizen, and the lots have since been held in fee simple." See
_Combined History of Randolph, Monroe, and Perry Counties, Illinois_
(Philadelphia, 1883), p. 308.--ED.
[24] For the memorial of George Morgan, upon these lands along the
Mississippi River, the report of the committee to which the above had
been referred, and the resolutions of Congress thereon (August 28, 29,
1788), see _Laws of the United States, etc._ (Bioren edition,
Philadelphia, 1815), i, pp. 580-585.--ED.
[25] For an account of the extermination of the Natchez, see F. A.
Michaux's _Travels_, in our volume iii, p. 254, note 53.--ED.
[26] Doubtless an exaggeration.--FLAGG.
_Comment by Ed._ "From 1810 to 1820 the town (Kaskaskia) probably
contained more people than at any other period of its history. A
census taken at that time showed a population of seven thousand." See
_History of Randolph, Monroe, and Perry Counties_, p. 307.
[27] A monastery and accompanying college, liberally endowed from
Europe, was founded at Kaskaskia by Jesuit missionaries in the first
quarter of the eighteenth century.--ED.
[28] "The idea," says Adam Smith, "of the possibility of multiplying
paper money to almost any extent, was the real foundation of what is
called the _Mississippi scheme_, the most extravagant project, both of
banking and stock-jobbing, that perhaps the world ever saw."--FLAGG.
_Comment by Ed._ John Law died at Venice, March 21, 1729. Concerning
his financial methods, see Émile Levasseur, _Recherches historique sur
le system de Law_ (Paris, 1854). Ample and accurate is Andrew M.
Davis's _A Historical Study of Law's System_ (Boston, 1887), reprinted
from _Quarterly Journal of Economics_ (Boston, 1887), i, pp. 289-318,
420-452.
[29] Breckenridge.--FLAGG.
[30] For an account of the early lead-mines, see Flagg's _Far West_,
in our volume xxvi, p. 95, note 60.--ED.
[31] For an historical sketch of Ste. Genevieve, see Cuming's _Tour_,
in our volume iv, p. 266, note 174.--ED.
[32] The French civil law still prevails in Louisiana.
For a good monograph on the Ordinance of 1787, and the text of the
same, see Jay Amos Barrett, _Evolution of the Ordinance of 1787, with
an Account of the earlie Plans for the Government of the Northwest
Territory_ (New York, 1891).--ED.
XXXVI
"If my readers should at any time remark that I am particularly
dull, they may rest assured there is a design under it."--_British
Essayist._
"Let not ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;
Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the poor."
GRAY'S _Elegy_.
Few things are more difficult, and, consequently, more rarely met,
than correct portraiture of character, whether of the individual or of
a community. It is easy enough, indeed, to trace out the prominent
outlines in the picture; and with a degree of accuracy which shall
render it easily recognised, while yet the more delicate shading and
lighting is false; just as the artist may have transferred every
feature in exact form, size, and proportion to his canvass, while the
expression thrown over the whole may be incorrect. This has more than
once been the case in descriptions hastily drawn of that singular
being, _the French villager of the Mississippi_. One distinguished
writer has given an absolute caricature of the race. My own design has
been, therefore, merely to throw before the reader those
characteristic traits which not even the most careless observer could
have failed to detect.
[CLXI] Though betraying but little of that fiery restlessness which
distinguishes the Parisian, these men are yet Frenchmen in more respects
than mere origin. In their ordinary deportment we view, indeed, rather
the calm gravity, the saturnine severity of the Spaniard; and yet in
their _fêtes_ and amusements, which were formerly far more frequent than
at present, they exhibit all the gayety of the native of La Belle
France. The calm, quiet tenour of their lives presenting but few objects
for enterprise, none for the strivings of ambition, and but little
occasion of any kind to elicit the loftier energies of our nature, has
imparted to their character, their feelings, their manners, to the very
language they speak, a languid softness strongly contrasted by the
unquiet restlessness of the emigrant who is succeeding them. Hospitality
was formerly, with them, hardly a virtue: it was a matter of course,
arising from their peculiarity of situation; and the swinging sign of
the tavern is a recent usurpation. The statute-book, the judiciary,
courts of law, and the penitentiary, were things little recognised among
these simple-hearted people; for where the inequalities of life were
unknown, what was the inducement to crime demanding this enginery of
punishment? Learning and science, too, were terms scarcely comprehended,
their technicalities not at all; for schools were few, and _learned men_
still more so; and thus reading, writing, and ciphering are, and ever
have been, the acme of scholastic proficiency with the French villager.
How many of the honest fellows can do even this, [CLXII] is not for me
to estimate. As to politics and the _affairs of the nation_, which their
countrymen on the other side of the water ever seem to think no
inconsiderable object of their being, they are too tame, and too lazy,
and too quiet to think of the subject. Indeed, the worthy villagers very
wisely look upon "earthly dignities" and the like much with the stoicism
of Cardinal Wolsey in disgrace,
"Oh, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden,
Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven."
The virtues of these people are said to be many: punctuality and
honesty in their dealings; politeness and hospitality to strangers;
though, it must be confessed, the manifold impositions practised upon
their simplicity of late years has tended to substitute for the latter
virtue not a little of coolness and distrust. There is much
friendship and warmth of feeling between neighbours and kindred, and
the women make affectionate wives, though by no means prone to
consider themselves in the light of goods and chattels of their
liege-lords, as is not unfrequently the case in more enlightened
communities. Indeed, as touching this matter, the Mississippi French
villager invariably reverses the sage maxim of the poet,
"In things of moment on _yourself_ depend;"
for he never presumes to depend upon any one but his faithful helpmate,
whether things are of moment or not. As to religious faith, all are
Catholics; and formerly, more than of late years, were punctilious in
observance of the ceremony and discipline [CLXIII] of their church,
permitting but few festivals of the calendar to pass unobserved. Their
wealth consisted chiefly of personal property, slaves, merchandise,
etc.; land being deemed an item of secondary consideration, while lead
and peltry constituted the ordinary circulating medium. Rent for houses
was a thing hardly known. All this changed long ago, of course; and
while real estate has augmented in value many hundred per cent.,
personal property has somewhat proportionally depreciated.
In the ordinary avocations of the villagers, there is but little
variety or distinction even at the present day, and formerly this
uniformity of pursuit was yet more observable. The wealthier and more
enterprising _habitans_ were traders, often with peculiar and
exclusive privileges; and they kept a heterogeneous stock of goods in
the largest room of their dwelling-houses, by way of being merchants.
There are but few who practice the mechanic arts for a livelihood:
carpenters, smiths, tailors, shoemakers, etc., as _artisans_, were
formerly almost unknown, and there is now in this respect but little
change. Now, as then, the mass of the population are agriculturists,
while many of the young and enterprising men embrace with pride, as
offering a broad field for generous emulation, the occupations of
boatmen, traders to the Rocky Mountains--in the vicinity of which most
of their lives are passed--_engagés_ of the American Fur Company, or
hunters and trappers upon the prairies. The bold recklessness of this
class has long been notorious.
[CLXIV] The _idiom_ of these villages, though by no means as pure as
it might be, is yet much more so, all things considered, than could be
expected. It requires no very close observation or proficiency in the
language to detect a difference, especially in pronunciation, from the
European French. There is not that nervous, animated _brilliancy_ of
dialect which distinguishes the latter; and the nasal, lengthened,
drawling sound of words, gives their conversation a languid, though by
no means a disagreeable movement. It is said to be more soft and
euphonious than the vernacular, though very different from the Creole
dialect of the West India Islands. There are some provincialisms, and
some words which a century ago might have been recognized in some
provinces of France, though not now.
As to the item of _costume_, it is still somewhat unique, though
formerly, we are told, much more so: that of the men was a course
blanket-coat, with a cap attached behind in lieu of a cape; and which,
from the circumstance of drawing over the head, gave the garment the
name of _capote_. Around the head was wreathed a blue handkerchief in
place of a hat, and on the feet moccasins instead of shoes and
stockings. All this, however, has pretty generally given place to the
American garb, though some of the very aged villagers may still be seen
in their ancient habiliments, the _capote_, moccasins, blue handkerchief
on the head, and an endless queue lengthened out behind. Their chief
_amusement_ ever has been, and, probably, ever will be, the DANCE, in
which all, even from the least to the greatest, [CLXV] bond and free,
unite. Their _slaves_ are treated well, if we may judge from
appearances; for nowhere in the West have I seen a sleeker, fleshier,
happier-looking set of mortals than the blacks of these old villages.
Previous to the cession of Louisiana to our government, the _Laws_ of
Spain were pretty generally in force throughout the province, so far
as related to municipal arrangement and real estate, while the common
law of France--_Coutume de Paris_--governed all contracts of a social
nature, modified by and interwoven with the customs of the people.[33]
Each district had its commandant, and each village its syndic, besides
judges in civil affairs for the province, and officers of the
_militia_, a small body of which was stationed in every district,
though too inconsiderable to afford much protection to the
inhabitants. These rulers were appointed by the governor at
New-Orleans, to whom there was an appeal; and the lieutenant-governor,
who resided at St. Louis, was commander of the troops. Thus the
government was a mixture of civil and military; and, though arbitrary
to the last degree, yet we are told the rod of domination was so
slight as scarcely to be felt.[34] However this may be, it is pretty
certain they did not well relish at first the change in the
administration of justice when they came under the jurisdiction of our
laws. The delay and uncertainty attendant on trial by jury, and the
multifarious technicalities of our jurisprudence, they [CLXVI] could
not well comprehend, either as to import, importance, or utility; and
it is not strange they should have preferred the prompt despatch of
arbitrary power. Nor is the modern administration of justice the
_only_ change with which the simple-hearted villager is dissatisfied.
On every side of him _improvement_, the watchword of the age, is
incessantly ringing in his ears; and if there be one term in all our
vocabulary he abhors more than all others, it is this same: and,
reader, there is much wisdom in his folly. In 1811 the invention of
Fulton's mighty genius was first beheld walking upon the Western
waters; and from that hour "the occupation" of the daring, reckless,
chivalrous French voyageur "was gone." Again the spirit of improvement
declared that the venerable old cottage, gray with a century's years,
must give place to the style and material of a more modern date; and
lo! the aged dwelling where his fathers lived, and where his eyes
opened on the light, is swept away, and its very site is known no
more. And then the streets and thoroughfares where his boyhood has
frolicked, as the village increases to a city, must be widened, and
straightened, and paved, and all for no earthly reason, to his
comprehension, but to prevent familiar chat with his opposite
neighbour, when sitting on his balcony of a long summer night, and to
wear out his poor pony's unshodden hoofs! It is very true that their
landed property, where they have managed to retain it from the iron
grasp of speculation, has increased in value almost beyond calculation
by the change; but they now refuse to [CLXVII] profit by selling.
Merchandise, the comforts and luxuries of life, have become cheaper
and more easily obtained, and the reward of industrious enterprise is
greater. But what is all this to men of their peculiar habits and
feelings? Once they were far better contented, even in comparative
poverty. There was then a harmony, and cordiality, and unanimity of
feeling pervading their society which it never can know again. They
were as one family in every village; nearly all were connected either
by ties of affinity, consanguinity, propinquity, or friendship:
distinction of rank or wealth was little known, and individuals of
every class were dressed alike, and met upon equal and familiar
footing in the same ballroom. It is needless to say, that now "_Nous
avons changé tout cela._"[35]
As to the poorer class of these villagers, it is more than doubtful
whether they have _at all_ been benefited by the change of the past
twenty years. We must not forget that, as a race, they are peculiar in
character, habits, and feeling; and so utterly distinct from ourselves,
that they can with hardly more facility associate in customs with us
than can our red brother of the prairie. Formerly the poorest, and the
laziest, and the most reckless class was fearless of want or beggary;
but now a more enterprising race has seized upon the lands with which
they have imprudently parted, perhaps with little remuneration, and they
find themselves abridged in many of their former immunities. Their
cattle may no longer range at will, nor have they the liberty [CLXVIII]
of appropriating wood for fuel wherever it seemeth good. It cannot be
denied, that many a one gains now a precarious subsistence, where
formerly he would have lived in comfort. Nearly every one possesses a
little cart, two or three diminutive ponies, a few cattle, a cottage,
and garden. But in agriculture, the superior industry of the new
immigrant can afford them for lease-rent double the result of their
toil, while as draymen, labourers, or workmen of any kind, it is not
difficult for foreigners to surpass them. In a few years the steamer
will have driven the keel-boat from the Western waters, and with it the
_voyageur_, the _patron_, and the _courier du bois_; but the occupation
of the hunter, trapper, and _engagé_, in which the French villager can
never be excelled, must continue so long as the American Fur Company
find it profitable to deal in buffalo robes, or enterprising men think
proper to go to Santa Fé for gold dust. Nor will the farmer, however
lazy, lose the reward of his labour so long as the market of St. Louis
is as little _over_stocked as at present. Nathless, it is pretty certain
"_times ain't now as they used to was_" to the French villager, all this
to the contrary notwithstanding.
_Kaskaskia, Ill._
FOOTNOTES:
[33] Under the feudal régime in France, the local or customary laws of
the more important centres of population came gradually to extend
their sway over larger and larger districts. With the rising
importance of Paris, the _coutume de Paris_ (common law of Paris),
reformed in 1580 by order of the parliament, in time displaced all
others; it breathed the national spirit. Codified, it was in a sense
the forerunner of the Code Napoleon.--ED.
[34] Breckenridge--to whom the author is indebted for other facts
relative to these early settlements.--FLAGG.
_Comment by Ed._ Henry Marie Brackenridge (not Breckenridge), _Views
of Louisiana_ (Pittsburgh, 1814).
[35] Sganarelle.--FLAGG.
_Comment by Ed._ Sganarelle is a character in Molière's plays, notably
in "Le Médicin malgré lui."
XXXVII
"All things have an end.
Churches and cities, that have diseases like to man,
Must have like death that we have."
"Birth has gladden'd it: Death has sanctified it."
"The roof-tree sinks, but moulders on the wall
In massy hoariness."
_Childe Harold._
In remarking upon the history of the French in the West, and the
peculiarities which still continue to characterize them, I am aware I
have lingered longer than could have been anticipated; much longer,
certainly, than was my original intention. The circumstances which have
induced this delay have been somewhat various. The subject _itself_ is
an interesting one. Apart from the delight we all experience in musing
upon the events of bygone time, and that gratification, so singularly
exquisite, of treading amid the scenes of "things departed," there is an
interest which every individual who has cast his lot in the great Valley
cannot fail to feel in every item, even the most minute, which may
pertain to its history. In dwelling, too, upon the features of "old
Kaskaskia," my design has been to exemplify the distinguishing
characteristics of all these early settlements, both French and Spanish,
in the Valley of the Mississippi. The peculiarities of all are the same,
as were the circumstances [CLXX] which first conduced to them. The same
customs, the same religion, the same amusements, and the same form of
government prevailed among all; and though dissimilar in dialect, and
separated by the broad Mississippi, yet, cut off from all the rest of
mankind, both the French and the Spanish villagers were glad to smother
differences, and to bind themselves to each other in their dependant
situation by the tendrils of mutually kind offices and social
intercourse. Thus, several of the villages stand opposite each other
upon the banks of the Mississippi. Ste. Genevieve is only across the
stream from Kaskaskia, and many fine old traditionary legends of these
early times are yet extant, and should be treasured up before too late.
But another circumstance which has been not unfavourable to that
prolixity into which I have suffered my pen to glide, and without which
other inducements might have proved ineffectual, has been the quiet,
dreamy seclusion of this old hamlet, so congenial to the workings of the
brain. Yesterday was like to-day, and to-morrow will be the transcript
of yesterday; and so time's current slips lazily along, like
"The liquid lapse of a murmuring stream."
As to objects of interest, one could hardly have lingered so long as
I have within the precincts of this "sleepy hollow" without having met
with some incidents worthy of regard for their _novelty_, if for
naught else.
There are few situations in Illinois which can [CLXXI] boast
advantages for mercantile transaction superior to Kaskaskia. But the
villagers are not a commercial, enterprising, money-making people, and
the trade of the place is, therefore, very small. The river is said to
be navigable for fifty miles from its mouth; the current is gentle,
and an inconsiderable expense in clearing the channel of fallen timber
would enable small boats to penetrate nearly two hundred miles higher,
by the meanderings of the stream, to Vandalia. Measures for this
purpose have been entered upon. A land-office for the district is here
established.[36] The number of families is seventy or eighty, nearly
all French and all Catholics, besides considerable transient
population--boatmen, hunters, trappers, who traverse the great rivers
and broad prairies of the valley.
Opposite Kaskaskia, on the summit of a lofty crag overlooking the
river, once stood a large fortress of massive timber, named Fort Gage.
Its form was an oblong quadrangle, the exterior polygon being several
hundred yards in circumference. It was burnt to the ground in 1766.
About twelve years subsequent to this event, the place was taken by
the American troops under Colonel George Rogers Clarke, "Hannibal of
the West." After most incredible exertions in the march from Virginia,
he arrived before Kaskaskia in the night; and, though fortified, so
bewildering was the surprise of the villagers, that not a blow was
struck, and the town was taken.[37]
The aged Catholic church at Kaskaskia, among [CLXXII] other relics of
the olden time, is well worthy a stranger's visit. It was erected more
than a century since upon the ruins of a former structure of similar
character, but is still in decent condition, and the only church in
the place. It is a huge old pile, extremely awkward and ungainly, with
its projecting eaves, its walls of hewn timber perpendicularly
planted, and the interstices stuffed with mortar, with its quaint,
old-fashioned spire, and its dark, storm-beaten casements. The
interior of the edifice is somewhat imposing, notwithstanding the
sombre hue of its walls; these are rudely plastered with lime, and
decorated with a few dingy paintings. The floor is of loose, rough
boards, and the ceiling arched with oaken panels. The altar and the
lamp suspended above are very antique, I was informed by the
officiating priest, having been used in the former church. The lamp is
a singular specimen of superstition illustrated by the arts. But the
structure of the _roof_ is the most remarkable feature of this
venerable edifice. This I discovered in a visit to the belfry of the
tower, accomplished at no little expenditure of sinew and muscle, for
stairs are an appliance quite unknown to this primitive building.
There are frames of two distinct roofs, of massive workmanship, neatly
united, comprising a vast number of rafters, buttresses, and braces,
crossing each other at every angle, and so ingeniously and accurately
arranged by the architect, that it is mathematically impossible that
any portion of the structure shall sink until time with a single blow
shall level the entire [CLXXIII] edifice.[38] It is related, that when
this church was about being erected, the simple villagers, astonished
at the immense quantities of timber required for the frame, called a
meeting of the citizens, and for a time laid an interdict upon
operations, until inquiry respecting the matter should be made. It was
with difficulty the architect at length obtained permission to
proceed; but, when all was completed, and the material had
disappeared, they knew not where, their astonishment surpassed all
bounds. The belfry reminded me of one of those ancient monuments of
the Druids called _Rocking-stones_; for though it tottered to and fro
beneath my weight, and always swings with the bell when it is struck,
perhaps the united force of an hundred men could hardly hurl it from
its seat. The bell is consecrated by the crucifix cast in its surface,
and bears the inscription "_Pour Leglise des Illinois. Normand A.
Parachelle_, 1741." The view from this elevation was extremely
beautiful: the settlement scattered for miles around, with the quaint
little cottages and farms all smiling in the merry sunlight, could
hardly fail of the lovely and picturesque. [CLXXIV] The churchyard
attached to the building is not extensive, but crowded with tenants.
It is into this receptacle that for four generations Kaskaskia has
poured her entire population. I saw but a few monuments and a pile of
stones. The first record on the register belonging to this church is,
I was informed by the priest, to the following effect, in French:
"1741, _June_ 7. _This morning were brought to the fort three bodies
from without, killed by the Renards, to whom we gave sepulture._"
There is here also a baptismal record, embracing the genealogies of
the French settlers since 1690, and other choice old chronicles.[39]
Some land deeds still remain extant, bearing date as early as 1712,
and a memorial also from the villagers to Louis XV., dated 1725,
petitioning a grant of "_commons_," etc., in consequence of disasters
from the flood of the preceding year, in which their all had been
swept away, and they had been forced themselves to flee for life to
the bluffs opposite the village.
The Nunnery at Kaskaskia is a large wooden structure, black with age,
and formerly a public house. With this institution is connected a
female seminary, in high repute throughout this region, and under
superintendence of ten of the sisters. A new nunnery of stone is about
being erected.[40]
It was a glorious morning, and, with many a lingering step, I left
behind me the village of old Kaskaskia. As I rode leisurely along the
banks of that placid stream, and among the beautiful farms of the
French settlers, I was more than once reminded forcibly of similar
scenery high up the Kennebeck, [CLXXV] in a distant section of Maine,
known by the name of "_Indian Old Point_," where I once took a ramble
with a college classmate during an autumn vacation. The landscape is
one of singular beauty; yet, were it otherwise, there is a charm
thrown around this distant and lonely spot by its association with an
interesting passage in the earliest history of the country. In the
expressive language of an eloquent writer, who has made the place the
scene of an Indian tale, _the soil is fertilized by the blood of a
murdered tribe_. Here, one hundred years ago, stood the village of the
Norridgewocks, a tribe of the powerful Abnaquis, who then held
undisputed domination over the extensive wilds of the far East. Though
possessing not the fierce valour of the Pequods, the sinewy vigour of
the Delawares, the serpent-like subtlety of the Penobscots, the
bell-toned idiom of the Iroquois, we are yet told they were a powerful
tribe for their intelligence and their numbers. The Jesuit
missionaries of Canada, while at this era they were gliding upon the
beautiful rivers of the distant West, had not neglected the steril
rocks of the equally remote East: and the hamlet of the Norridgewocks
had early been subjected to the influences of the fascinating ceremony
and the lofty ritual of the Catholic faith. Under the guidance of the
devoted Sebastian Rasle, a rude church was erected by the natives, and
its gray, cross-crowned spire reared up itself among the low-roofed
wigwams. Beloved by his savage flock, the venerable Father Rasle lived
on in peacefulness and quietude for thirty years in the home of his
adoption. During [CLXXVI] the troubled period of the "French and
Indian War" which ensued, suspicions arose that the Norridgewocks
were influenced by their missionary to many of their acts of lawless
violence upon a village of English settlers but a few miles distant.
In the autumn of 1724 this distrust had augmented to a conviction that
the Abnaquis had resolved on the extermination of the white race, and
a detachment of soldiers ascended the Kennebeck. It was a bright,
beautiful morning of the Sabbath when they approached the Indian
hamlet. The sweet-toned bell of the little chapel awoke the echoes
with its clear peal, and announced the hour of mass just as the early
sunlight was tinting the far-off hill-tops. A few moments, and every
living soul in the village was within the church, and had bowed in
humbleness before the "Great Spirit." The deep tones of the venerable
Rasle were supplicating, "_Ora, ora pro nobis_," when the soldiers
rushed in. Terrible and indiscriminate was the massacre that ensued.
Not one was spared; not _one_! The pious Rasle poured out his heart's
blood upon the altar of his devotion. Those of the natives who escaped
from the chapel were either shot down or perished miserably in the
river, their bark canoes having been previously perforated by the
treachery of their foes.[41] The drowsy beams of that day's setting
sun dreamed beautifully as ever among the fragrant pine-tops and the
feathery hemlocks of the river-bank; but his slanting rays smiled upon
the ancient hamlet beneath [CLXXVII] whose ashes its exterminated
dwellers were slumbering the last sleep!
The grave of Father Rasle, a green mound overlooking the stream, was
pointed out to us. A granite obelisk to his memory was erected by
Bishop Fenwick, of Boston, a few years since, but was demolished by a
party of miscreants soon after its completion. My object in this
lengthened episode upon the Norridgewocks, so casually introduced, has
been twofold: to illustrate the peaceful policy of the French towards
the Indian all over the continent, and to contrast it with that of
other Europeans.
The ride from Kaskaskia to Prairie du Rocher in early autumn is truly
delightful. Crossing _Aubuchon_, formerly called St. Philippe--a
passage from the Mississippi to the Kaskaskia, about four miles above
the town, and through which, in high floods, a rapid current passes
from one river to the other--the path lay through a tract of
astonishing fertility, where the wild fruit flourishes with a
luxuriance known to no other soil. Endless thickets of the wild
plum[42] and the blackberry, interlaced and matted together by the
young grape-vines streaming with gorgeous clusters, were to be seen
stretching for miles along the plain. Such boundless profusion of wild
fruit I had never seen before. Vast groves of the ruby crab-apple, the
golden persimmon,[43] the black and white mulberry,[44] and the wild
cherry,[45] were [CLXXVIII] sprinkled with their rainbow hues in
isolated masses over the prairie, or extended themselves in long
luxurious streaks glowing in the sun. The pawpaw,[46] too, with its
luscious, pulpy fruit; the peach, the pear, and the quince, all thrive
in wild luxuriance here; while of the nuts, the pecan or Choctaw nut,
the hickory, and the black walnut, are chief. As for grapes, the
indigenous vines are prolific; and the fruit is _said_ to be so
excellent, that wine might be, and even has been, made from them, and
has been exported by the early French in such quantities to France,
that the trade was prohibited lest the sale of a staple of that
kingdom should be injured! But all this is undoubtedly exaggeration,
if no more. Although the grape and the wine of southern Illinois have
long been the theme of the traveller through that delightful region,
from the worthy Father Hennepin, who tells us of the purple clusters
lending their rich hues to the gliding wave, to the tourist of the
present day, yet from personal observation I am confident they are
_now_ by no means of much importance, and from good authority am
inclined to think they _never_ were so. As to the manufacture of wine
becoming a matter interesting to commerce, there is no probability of
that. A kind of liquor was formerly made in some quantities from what
is called the _winter grape_, common to the same latitude in many
portions of the United States, but it is said to have been a very
indifferent beverage. It was made in the following simple manner: the
clusters were heaped in broad, shallow [CLXXIX] vessels of wood, and,
after being crushed, the juice was expressed through perforations for
the purpose in the sides and bottom, by the application of heavy
weights, into vessels prepared for its reception. Slight fermentation
then completed the process.[47]
A ride of some hours through this delightful region brought me to the
bluffs, which, at this point extending into the plain, confine the
bottom to a narrow strip, bounded on the one side by the Mississippi,
and on the other by the battlement of the cliffs, upward of an hundred
feet in height. Beneath lies the French village of _Prairie du Rocher_,
so called from its situation.[48] It is thirteen miles from Kaskaskia,
and its low cottages scattered along, like the tents of a nomadic tribe,
for miles, are completely overhung by the huge, beetling crags above.
From the deep alluvion along the river's verge rises an enormous growth
of cottonwood-trees and sycamores, concealing the stream from the view.
From the bluffs to this belt of forest stretches away the vast _common
field_, rustling with maize. The castor-bean and tobacco-plant are also
often seen carpeting the ground with emerald. Around each tenement, as
usual, is a plat of cultivated land, and the luxuriance of vegetation is
unrivalled. Passing these outskirts, I at length arrived at the body of
the village, lying upon a creek or _bayou_ of the same name, which winds
through its centre, and empties into the Mississippi. This quiet stream
was once the scene of a very bloody tragedy. When Illinois first came
under territorial government, and courts of civil judicature [CLXXX]
were established, the functionaries of the law, in passing one day from
Cahokia to Kaskaskia, to hold at the latter place a session, stopped a
few moments at this creek to water their horses. The animals had
scarcely begun to drink, when a shower of balls from an adjoining
thicket laid three of the party weltering in their blood.[49] They had
neglected the usual precaution to disguise themselves in the garb of the
French villagers; and such was the hostility of the Indian tribes,
especially that of the Kickapoos, to our countrymen at the time, that to
travel in American costume was almost inevitable death. The Indians at
that day had the ascendency in point of population, and the Kaskaskia
tribe, as well as others, was powerful.
At Prairie du Rocher, as everywhere else where these ancient villages
remain as yet undisturbed in their century slumbers, the peculiarities
to which I have so frequently alluded stand forth to the traveller's
eye. The narrow lanes, the steep-roofed houses, the picketed
enclosures, the piazza, the peculiar dress, manners, and amusements
of the villagers, all point back to a former age. At this place I
tarried for dinner, and while my olive-browed hostess, a trim, buxom
little matron, was "making ready," I strolled forth to the bluffs,
having first received most positive injunctions to make my
reappearance when the _horn sounded_; and, scrambling up a ravine,
soon stood upon the smooth round summit. The whole tract of country
over which my route had led was spread out like a map before me; and
the little village lay so directly at my feet [CLXXXI] I could almost
look down its chimneys. Among the crags I obtained some fine
petrifactions, which I exhibited to my simple host, much to his
astonishment, on my return. Forty years had this man dwelt upon the
very spot he then inhabited, the scene of his birth; and almost every
day of his life had he ascended the cliffs among which I had been
clambering; and yet, though the seashells were standing out in every
direction from the surface of the ledge, not the slightest peculiarity
of structure had he ever dreamed of. That the great ocean had rolled
among these rocks, he could have formed no conception. Experience had
told him that when burned they were lime, and he neither knew nor
cared to know anything farther of their character or history. This
slight incident well exemplifies the simplicity of this singular
people. Content to live where his father lived; content to cultivate
the spot he tilled; to tread in the steps which he trod; to speak the
language he spake, and revere the faith he observed, the French
villager is a stranger to the restless cravings of ambition, and
acknowledges no inclination to change. At Prairie du Rocher is a
little, dark-looking, ancient Catholic church, dedicated to St.
Sulpice, formerly "Chapel of Ease" to Fort Chartres, but at present it
has no resident priest. The population of the village is about two
hundred. Its site is low, and, buried as it is in such enormous
vegetation, the spot must be unhealthy: yet, year after year, and
generation after generation, have its present inhabitants continued to
dwell where death almost inevitable must have awaited an [CLXXXII]
American. But where will you search for a fleshier, sleeker,
swarthier-looking race than these French villagers? Some attribute
this phenomenon to diet; some to natural idiosyncrasy; and other some
do not attribute at all, but merely stand amazed. The truth of the
matter is--and the fact is one well ascertained--that, give a
Frenchman a fiddle, a pipe, a glass of claret, and room enough to
shake his heels, and, like a mushroom, he'll vegetate on any soil!
_La Prairie du Rocher, Ill._
FOOTNOTES:
[36] A land-office was established at Kaskaskia by act of Congress
approved March 26, 1804, "for so much of the lands included within the
boundaries fixed by the treaty of the thirteenth of August, one
thousand eight hundred and three, with the Kaskaskia tribe of Indians,
as is not claimed by any other Indian tribe;" this was discontinued by
order of the president, November 12, 1855. The records were
transferred to Springfield the following February.--ED.
[37] During the Indian troubles a fort was erected in 1736 on an
eminence, later known as Garrison Hill, opposite Kaskaskia. It was
repaired and occupied by a French garrison at the opening of the French
and Indian War. In 1766 the fort was burned, but another soon afterward
built, was occupied by the English (1772) and named Fort Gage, in honor
of the British commander-in-chief. On the night of July 4, 1778, Colonel
George Rogers Clark captured the fort and made it his headquarters while
in Illinois. It was abandoned at the close of the Revolution, but was
re-occupied for a short time by American troops in 1801. Colonel Pike's
regiment was stationed there for a short period. See R. G. Thwaites,
_How George Rogers Clark Won the Northwest_ (Chicago, 1903).--ED.
[38] The reader will recollect that these notes were sketched two
years ago. Since that time some changes in this old edifice have taken
place; the whole southwest angle has fallen to the ground, and,
agreeable to the text, the entire roof would have followed but for the
extraordinary strength of one solitary piece of timber. High mass was
in celebration at the time, and the church was crowded, but no
accident occurred. The old building has been since dismantled,
however; its bell removed from the tower, and the whole structure will
soon, probably, be prostrated by "decay's effacing finger."--FLAGG.
[39] The earliest "extract from the baptismal records of the mission
among the Illinois, under the title of the Immaculate conception of Our
Lady," bears date March 20, 1692. The first ceremony recorded after the
removal of the mission to Kaskaskia, was performed April 17, 1701. See
"Kaskaskia Church Records," in Illinois State Historical Library
_Publications_ (Springfield, 1904), pp. 394-413; Edward G. Mason,
"Kaskaskia and its Parish Records," in _Fergus Historical Series_, No.
12 (Chicago, 1881), pp. 1-22; C. W. Alvord, _The Old Kaskaskia Records_
(Chicago Historical Society, 1906); _Magazine of American History_, vi,
pp. 161-182; _Michigan Pioneer Collections_, v, pp. 94-109.--ED.
[40] A convent of the Visitation was established at Kaskaskia in May,
1833, by a colony from the parent house at Georgetown, District of
Columbia. It was patronized by Pierre Menard, and connected with the
academy named in his honor. A large building was erected and opened
for pupils in 1836. The institution enjoyed a high reputation until
the flood of 1844 forced its abandonment. See _History of Randolph,
Monroe, and Perry Counties_, p. 308.--ED.
[41] I give the tradition of the farmers now resident upon the spot.
History differs somewhat.