LA SALLE.
Many stories had been brought by the Indians to the French settlers in
Canada, of the great country that lay west of the St. Lawrence and the
lakes; and now and then an adventurous trapper had visited the shores of
Lake Michigan, and had heard these stories repeated by the tribes living
there; and then French priests found their way thither, and by and by it
came to be believed that the country in the west was as well worth
exploring as the shores of the Atlantic and St. Lawrence; and travellers
began to visit the new territory and to trade more extensively with its
natives, and to listen with believing ears to their tales of a great
river that flowed from the north away and away, hundreds of miles, to
the sea.
At that time France was very desirous of discovering a passage from the
St. Lawrence to the Pacific Ocean, and when this new river began to be
so much talked about, it was wondered whether it might not flow into the
Pacific. But some people thought differently; they said that they had no
doubt the great river flowed directly south and emptied into the Gulf of
Mexico; and, after a great deal of talk, it was decided to send an
expedition from Canada to find this great river, and to see where it
rose and into what it flowed. The principal men in the party were Louis
Joliet, who had been sent from France to discover the passage to the
Pacific, and Father Marquette, a French priest, whose long residence
among the Indians, and the love and respect with which he had inspired
them, made him a very suitable companion for Joliet.
They left Canada by the way of the St. Lawrence, and, passing through
the Great Lakes, entered Lake Michigan, and sailed through its waters in
Green Bay. At the head of this bay they came to the last French station
near Canada. Hereafter their journey would be entirely among tribes of
strange Indians. But at the little settlement on Green Bay they saw a
cross that had been erected by some French priest, and which the natives
had adorned with flowers; and, encouraged by the thought that even on
the farthest limit of French territory they were leaving friends, they
started bravely for the undiscovered country, taking with them two
Indian lads to show them the way to the Wisconsin River. Their canoes
sailed up the beautiful waters of the Fox, whose fresh green banks and
bordering trees gave promise of leading into a fair land beyond, and in
a short time they had reached its head, and pushed out into the narrow
channel, almost choked with wild rice, that led to the Wisconsin. The
guides left them as soon as their canoes floated into the current of the
larger river, and then their voyage began in earnest.
They drifted down the Wisconsin for a week, examining the country
carefully on both sides, and always looking out for the great river they
had come to find; and at the end of this time they saw, to their great
joy, the shining waters of the Mississippi spreading out before them.
And now they were obliged to go more carefully for fear of hostile
Indians; they no longer spent their nights on the banks of the river,
sleeping comfortably around a blazing camp-fire, but anchored their
canoes out from shore, and stationed a sentinel to warn them of any
danger that might come while they slept. Day after day they scanned the
river-banks for sight of lurking foes, and night after night they rolled
themselves in their blankets and went to sleep, expecting to be awakened
by the war-whoop of the Indians; but, search as they might, they could
find no trace of human beings along the river, and eight days passed
before they saw a sign of friend or foe. On the ninth day they saw a
well-worn path leading up from the river into the forest beyond. Joliet
and Marquette sprang from their canoes and started up the path, while
the rest of the party remained on the river to guard against surprise.
A short walk brought the leaders to the Indian village, which they were
glad to find occupied by the friendly tribe of the Illinois. The chief
welcomed them with uplifted hands, in token of friendly greeting, while
his warriors gathered around him and waved the pipe of peace. And hardly
had the Frenchmen responded to these greetings, when there came an
invitation from the head chief of the whole tribe for the strangers to
come to his village. They found him standing in front of his wigwam,
with his calumet, or pipe of peace, raised toward the sun. He saluted
them with a kiss, and invited them into his dwelling, where a banquet
had been prepared. After partaking of this, the Frenchmen were escorted
through the village by the entire population, who accompanied them to
their canoes and stood on the banks while they embarked. Then, as they
pushed out from shore, they waved them pleasant farewells, and the
visitors went away delighted with their kind welcome. The chief had
given Marquette his calumet, which was carefully preserved, as he knew
it would be of value in dealing with other tribes.
And then they went on down the river, past the curious Painted Rocks and
the mighty forests and rolling prairies, and saw one day another large
river flowing from the west--a rushing, mighty river, with turbid,
yellow waves that would not mix with the clear waters of the
Mississippi; Marquette thought that perhaps this new stream might lead
him to the western ocean, if he would trust his frail canoe to its
guidance, and the Indians whom he found there said that it was quite
true that the yellow river would take him into the distant prairies,
which he could easily cross, carrying his canoe on his shoulders, and
that a short journey would bring him to another little stream which led
into a small lake, from which started a deep river that flowed westward
into the sea.
But, although this sounded like very pleasant travelling, Marquette
could not leave his companions just then, and they continued their
voyage down the Mississippi, passing the Ohio and Arkansas; at which
latter point, discouraged by the reports of the hostile tribes who lived
farther down, and afraid of falling into the hands of the Spaniards if
they reached the Gulf, they turned back and began a leisurely ascent of
the Mississippi.
They turned into the Illinois when they reached that river, and
journeyed up its winding course, delighted with its fertile basin, rich
with fine forests, cattle, deer, goats, and beaver, and beautiful with
clear streams and lovely lakes, on which floated great numbers of swans.
When they reached the head of the river, an Indian chief guided them
through the forests to Green Bay, which they reached in September, well
satisfied with their journey, and convinced that the Mississippi led to
the Gulf of Mexico.
Joliet no sooner told the story of his expedition than a gentleman of
Normandy living in Canada resolved to undertake a journey to the mouth
of the Mississippi, and to the Pacific. This man was Robert Cavalier de
la Salle, and in August, 1679, he left Canada equipped for a voyage down
the Mississippi; but, being detained by the loss of his vessel and an
attack of the Iroquois upon the Illinois, who were the friends of the
French, it was two years after that date, 1681, before he found himself
actually on his way.
They left by the way of the Chicago River, which they travelled down in
sledges, the river being frozen over, and even when they reached the
Mississippi they were detained some days by the ice; but at last they
were able to begin the descent, and, like the former expedition, passed
many days before they came to an Indian village that was inhabited.
The first notice they had of their approach to a settlement came from
the drums and war-cries of the people who had assembled on the bank. La
Salle immediately landed on the other side of the river; and, setting
his men to work, they soon had a fort built, and were prepared to defend
themselves. The Indians, seeing this, changed their tactics, and sent
some messengers across the river in a canoe. La Salle went down to the
shore carrying the calumet, which was received by the savages with
respect, and friendly feeling was at once established.
The Frenchmen were very glad of this, as during the three days they
spent there they learned many things about the Indians farther down the
river, and were also well supplied with food for their journey; for this
village was situated in the midst of orchards and fields, and the
people were very intelligent and courteous, having pleasant manners, and
being liberal and hospitable. La Salle planted a cross bearing the arms
of France, and parted from his new friends with many expressions of
gratitude. The Indians sent with him some interpreters, who introduced
him to a friendly tribe some distance farther down, and La Salle found
these Indians also very intelligent and hospitable. He describes their
houses as being built of mud and straw, with cane roofs, and furnished
with bedsteads, tables, etc. They also had temples where their chiefs
were buried, and wore white clothing spun from the bark of a tree. These
were very different habits from those that La Salle had seen among the
Indians in the north, and he concluded that he must be nearing the end
of his journey.
This proved to be true, for two weeks after he found the river dividing
into three branches; he took one branch and two of his men the others,
and in a short time they found that the water was salt, and knew that
they had reached the mouth of the river; a little farther on they saw
the sea, and found that they had reached the Gulf of Mexico by the way
of the Mississippi.
On April 9, 1682, a cross was raised, upon which were inscribed the arms
of France; then, after a religious ceremony, La Salle took possession of
the Mississippi and all its branches, together with all the lands
bordering them, in the name of the king of France. A few days after he
turned his face homeward; but, being detained by sickness, did not reach
Quebec until the next year. However, he had sent the accounts of his
voyage on before him, and these had been forwarded to France; and, after
some delay, a new expedition left France, whither La Salle had gone; the
object of this expedition was to found a colony at the mouth of the
Mississippi.
All might have gone well, had it not been for the jealousy of Beaujeu,
the captain of the fleet, who refused to follow La Salle's advice about
landing. As they coasted along the Gulf, from their ignorance of the
coast, they passed the mouth of the Mississippi, and went farther
westward than they had meant to. La Salle wished to turn back and
search for the mouth of the river, but Beaujeu refused to do this, and
insisted upon entering Matagorda Bay in Texas. Here La Salle was obliged
to have his stores landed; and, as soon as this was done, Beaujeu sailed
back to France again, caring little what became of his fellow-voyagers.
But La Salle was not to be disheartened by such a mishap as this. He
cheered the hearts of his men by his hopeful words, and they set about
establishing the colony at once. They found the climate agreeable, and
the natives friendly and willing to trade; they belonged to the same
race as those on the Mississippi, and, like them, lived in large
villages, and had comfortably furnished houses. La Salle had no fear in
leaving his colony among these well-disposed natives; and, as soon as it
was possible, he left his company and went in search of the Mississippi,
which he had hopes of finding without difficulty.
But the river was farther off than he knew, and he was an utter stranger
to the country; and, although he turned again and again, two years
passed and he had not yet seen its shining waters. At last he determined
to take half the colony and find his way to Canada, where he might
obtain supplies, as they had received nothing from France since their
arrival, owing to the bad report of La Salle that Beaujeu had taken
back.
Canada was two thousand miles away, but there were friends there, and
the brave leader could not bear to see his countrymen suffering when it
might be possible to bring them help. The little party of twenty was not
very well equipped for a long journey through a strange country. They
had to make clothing of the sails of one of the vessels; their shoes
were of buffalo-hide and deer-skin; they had to make boats of skin to
cross the swollen rivers, and they depended for food upon the game they
could find. And so their progress was very slow, and it took them two
months to reach Trinity River.
But hardship was not the only thing that La Salle had to bear on this
wearying march. Part of the men became dissatisfied with him, and
rebelled against his authority. They killed his nephew and a faithful
Indian servant while they were absent from the camp on a hunting
expedition, and when La Salle appeared and asked where his nephew was,
one of the murderers raised his gun and shot their leader dead.
La Salle was one of the bravest and noblest of the French explorers. If
he had been allowed to carry out his plans, France would have been
stronger and richer in America than it was ever her fortune to become.
It was ten years after his death before any other attempt was made to
settle the Mississippi Valley.
To La Salle belongs the honor of being the first European to sail from
the upper part of the Mississippi down to the Gulf of Mexico, and it was
he who started that spirit of adventure which led to so many Frenchmen
devoting their lives to the exploration of the great river and its many
branches, thus making the western part of the country familiar to the
Europeans, and laying the foundations of the French power in the valley
of the Mississippi; and laying, at the same time, the foundations of
that firm and lasting friendship with the Indians which was the
strongest safeguard of the French in America; for all the tribes along
the great river and on the shores of the northern lakes grew to love and
reverence the French name.
They looked upon them as brothers, for they came to their humble
villages and led the same simple lives that they themselves led. They
hunted and fished with them, wore the same kind of clothing, and slept
contentedly in their rude wigwams. They talked with them in their own
language, and called their lakes and streams by their poetical Indian
names. They even married the daughters of their race, and the kindly
French priests knew no difference between white man and red man, but
ministered to all alike. The Indians freely entered the little chapels
that were scattered up and down along the river, and lovingly hung the
cross with flowers; and little Indian children were brought there to be
baptized, just as the little French children were, and all was peace and
harmony. And the calumet never passed from chief to chief but as a sign
of peace, and of the abiding friendship which began when Marquette was
greeted by the Illinois chief with hands raised toward heaven, as if
calling down the blessing of the Great Spirit upon the meeting.