1672-1675.
THE DISCOVERY OF THE MISSISSIPPI.
Joliet sent to find the Mississippi.--Jacques
Marquette.--Departure.--Green Bay.--The Wisconsin.--The
Mississippi.--Indians.--Manitous.--The Arkansas.--The
Illinois.--Joliet's Misfortune.--Marquette at Chicago: his Illness;
his Death.
If Talon had remained in the colony, Frontenac would infallibly have
quarrelled with him; but he was too clear-sighted not to approve his
plans for the discovery and occupation of the interior. Before sailing
for France, Talon recommended Joliet as a suitable agent for the
discovery of the Mississippi, and the governor accepted his counsel.[46]
Louis Joliet was the son of a wagon-maker in the service of the Company
of the Hundred Associates,[47] then owners of Canada. He was born at
Quebec in 1645, and was educated by the Jesuits. When still very young,
he resolved to be a priest. He received the tonsure and the minor orders
at the age of seventeen. Four years after, he is mentioned with
especial honor for the part he bore in the disputes in philosophy, at
which the dignitaries of the colony were present, and in which the
intendant himself took part.[48] Not long after, he renounced his
clerical vocation, and turned fur-trader. Talon sent him, with one Péré,
to explore the copper-mines of Lake Superior; and it was on his return
from this expedition that he met La Salle and the Sulpitians near the
head of Lake Ontario.[49]
In what we know of Joliet, there is nothing that reveals any salient or
distinctive trait of character, any especial breadth of view or boldness
of design. He appears to have been simply a merchant, intelligent, well
educated, courageous, hardy, and enterprising. Though he had renounced
the priesthood, he retained his partiality for the Jesuits; and it is
more than probable that their influence had aided not a little to
determine Talon's choice. One of their number, Jacques Marquette, was
chosen to accompany him.
[Sidenote: MARQUETTE.]
He passed up the lakes to Michilimackinac, and found his destined
companion at Point St. Ignace, on the north side of the strait, where,
in his palisaded mission-house and chapel, he had labored for two years
past to instruct the Huron refugees from St. Esprit, and a band of
Ottawas who had joined them. Marquette was born in 1637, of an old and
honorable family at Laon, in the north of France, and was now
thirty-five years of age. When about seventeen, he had joined the
Jesuits, evidently from motives purely religious; and in 1666 he was
sent to the missions of Canada. At first, he was destined to the station
of Tadoussac; and to prepare himself for it, he studied the Montagnais
language under Gabriel Druilletes. But his destination was changed, and
he was sent to the Upper Lakes in 1668, where he had since remained. His
talents as a linguist must have been great; for within a few years he
learned to speak with ease six Indian languages. The traits of his
character are unmistakable. He was of the brotherhood of the early
Canadian missionaries, and the true counterpart of Garnier or Jogues. He
was a devout votary of the Virgin Mary, who, imaged to his mind in
shapes of the most transcendent loveliness with which the pencil of
human genius has ever informed the canvas, was to him the object of an
adoration not unmingled with a sentiment of chivalrous devotion. The
longings of a sensitive heart, divorced from earth, sought solace in
the skies. A subtile element of romance was blended with the fervor of
his worship, and hung like an illumined cloud over the harsh and hard
realities of his daily lot. Kindled by the smile of his celestial
mistress, his gentle and noble nature knew no fear. For her he burned to
dare and to suffer, discover new lands and conquer new realms to her
sway.
He begins the journal of his voyage thus: "The day of the Immaculate
Conception of the Holy Virgin; whom I had continually invoked since I
came to this country of the Ottawas to obtain from God the favor of
being enabled to visit the nations on the river Mississippi,--this very
day was precisely that on which M. Joliet arrived with orders from Count
Frontenac, our governor, and from M. Talon, our intendant, to go with me
on this discovery. I was all the more delighted at this good news,
because I saw my plans about to be accomplished, and found myself in the
happy necessity of exposing my life for the salvation of all these
tribes,--and especially of the Illinois, who, when I was at Point St.
Esprit, had begged me very earnestly to bring the word of God among
them."
[Sidenote: DEPARTURE.]
The outfit of the travellers was very simple. They provided themselves
with two birch canoes, and a supply of smoked meat and Indian corn;
embarked with five men, and began their voyage on the seventeenth of
May. They had obtained all possible information from the Indians, and
had made, by means of it, a species of map of their intended route.
"Above all," writes Marquette, "I placed our voyage under the protection
of the Holy Virgin Immaculate, promising that if she granted us the
favor of discovering the great river, I would give it the name of the
Conception."[50] Their course was westward; and, plying their paddles,
they passed the Straits of Michilimackinac, and coasted the northern
shores of Lake Michigan, landing at evening to build their camp-fire at
the edge of the forest, and draw up their canoes on the strand. They
soon reached the river Menomonie, and ascended it to the village of the
Menomonies, or Wild-rice Indians.[51] When they told them the object of
their voyage, they were filled with astonishment, and used their best
ingenuity to dissuade them. The banks of the Mississippi, they said,
were inhabited by ferocious tribes, who put every stranger to death,
tomahawking all new-comers without cause or provocation. They added that
there was a demon in a certain part of the river, whose roar could be
heard at a great distance, and who would engulf them in the abyss where
he dwelt; that its waters were full of frightful monsters, who would
devour them and their canoe; and, finally, that the heat was so great
that they would perish inevitably. Marquette set their counsel at
naught, gave them a few words of instruction in the mysteries of the
Faith, taught them a prayer, and bade them farewell.
The travellers next reached the mission at the head of Green Bay;
entered Fox River; with difficulty and labor dragged their canoes up the
long and tumultuous rapids; crossed Lake Winnebago; and followed the
quiet windings of the river beyond, where they glided through an endless
growth of wild rice, and scared the innumerable birds that fed upon it.
On either hand rolled the prairie, dotted with groves and trees,
browsing elk and deer.[52] On the seventh of June, they reached the
Mascoutins and Miamis, who, since the visit of Dablon and Allouez, had
been joined by the Kickapoos. Marquette, who had an eye for natural
beauty, was delighted with the situation of the town, which he describes
as standing on the crown of a hill; while, all around, the prairie
stretched beyond the sight, interspersed with groves and belts of tall
forest. But he was still more delighted when he saw a cross planted in
the midst of the place. The Indians had decorated it with a number of
dressed deer-skins, red girdles, and bows and arrows, which they had
hung upon it as an offering to the Great Manitou of the French; a sight
by which Marquette says he was "extremely consoled."
[Sidenote: THE WISCONSIN RIVER.]
The travellers had no sooner reached the town than they called the
chiefs and elders to a council. Joliet told them that the governor of
Canada had sent him to discover new countries, and that God had sent his
companion to teach the true faith to the inhabitants; and he prayed for
guides to show them the way to the waters of the Wisconsin. The council
readily consented; and on the tenth of June the Frenchmen embarked
again, with two Indians to conduct them. All the town came down to the
shore to see their departure. Here were the Miamis, with long locks of
hair dangling over each ear, after a fashion which Marquette thought
very becoming; and here, too, the Mascoutins and the Kickapoos, whom he
describes as mere boors in comparison with their Miami townsmen. All
stared alike at the seven adventurers, marvelling that men could be
found to risk an enterprise so hazardous.
The river twisted among lakes and marshes choked with wild rice; and,
but for their guides, they could scarcely have followed the perplexed
and narrow channel. It brought them at last to the portage, where, after
carrying their canoes a mile and a half over the prairie and through the
marsh, they launched them on the Wisconsin, bade farewell to the waters
that flowed to the St. Lawrence, and committed themselves to the current
that was to bear them they knew not whither,--perhaps to the Gulf of
Mexico, perhaps to the South Sea or the Gulf of California. They glided
calmly down the tranquil stream, by islands choked with trees and
matted with entangling grape-vines; by forests, groves, and prairies,
the parks and pleasure-grounds of a prodigal Nature; by thickets and
marshes and broad bare sand-bars; under the shadowing trees, between
whose tops looked down from afar the bold brow of some woody bluff. At
night, the bivouac,--the canoes inverted on the bank, the flickering
fire, the meal of bison-flesh or venison, the evening pipes, and slumber
beneath the stars; and when in the morning they embarked again, the mist
hung on the river like a bridal veil, then melted before the sun, till
the glassy water and the languid woods basked breathless in the sultry
glare.[53]
[Sidenote: THE MISSISSIPPI.]
On the seventeenth of June they saw on their right the broad meadows,
bounded in the distance by rugged hills, where now stand the town and
fort of Prairie du Chien. Before them a wide and rapid current coursed
athwart their way, by the foot of lofty heights wrapped thick in
forests. They had found what they sought, and "with a joy," writes
Marquette, "which I cannot express," they steered forth their canoes on
the eddies of the Mississippi.
Turning southward, they paddled down the stream, through a solitude
unrelieved by the faintest trace of man. A large fish, apparently one of
the huge cat-fish of the Mississippi, blundered against Marquette's
canoe, with a force which seems to have startled him; and once, as they
drew in their net, they caught a "spade-fish," whose eccentric
appearance greatly astonished them. At length the buffalo began to
appear, grazing in herds on the great prairies which then bordered the
river; and Marquette describes the fierce and stupid look of the old
bulls, as they stared at the intruders through the tangled mane which
nearly blinded them.
[Sidenote: THE ILLINOIS INDIANS.]
They advanced with extreme caution, landed at night, and made a fire to
cook their evening meal; then extinguished it, embarked again, paddled
some way farther, and anchored in the stream, keeping a man on the watch
till morning. They had journeyed more than a fortnight without meeting a
human being, when, on the twenty-fifth, they discovered footprints of
men in the mud of the western bank, and a well-trodden path that led to
the adjacent prairie. Joliet and Marquette resolved to follow it; and
leaving the canoes in charge of their men, they set out on their
hazardous adventure. The day was fair, and they walked two leagues in
silence, following the path through the forest and across the sunny
prairie, till they discovered an Indian village on the banks of a river,
and two others on a hill half a league distant.[54] Now, with beating
hearts, they invoked the aid of Heaven, and, again advancing, came so
near, without being seen, that they could hear the voices of the
Indians among the wigwams. Then they stood forth in full view, and
shouted to attract attention. There was great commotion in the village.
The inmates swarmed out of their huts, and four of their chief men
presently came forward to meet the strangers, advancing very
deliberately, and holding up toward the sun two calumets, or
peace-pipes, decorated with feathers. They stopped abruptly before the
two Frenchmen, and stood gazing at them without speaking a word.
Marquette was much relieved on seeing that they wore French cloth,
whence he judged that they must be friends and allies. He broke the
silence, and asked them who they were; whereupon they answered that they
were Illinois, and offered the pipe; which having been duly smoked, they
all went together to the village. Here the chief received the travellers
after a singular fashion, meant to do them honor. He stood stark naked
at the door of a large wigwam, holding up both hands as if to shield his
eyes. "Frenchmen, how bright the sun shines when you come to visit us!
All our village awaits you; and you shall enter our wigwams in peace."
So saying, he led them into his own, which was crowded to suffocation
with savages, staring at their guests in silence. Having smoked with the
chiefs and old men, they were invited to visit the great chief of all
the Illinois, at one of the villages they had seen in the distance; and
thither they proceeded, followed by a throng of warriors, squaws, and
children. On arriving, they were forced to smoke again, and listen to a
speech of welcome from the great chief, who delivered it standing
between two old men, naked like himself. His lodge was crowded with the
dignitaries of the tribe, whom Marquette addressed in Algonquin,
announcing himself as a messenger sent by the God who had made them, and
whom it behooves them to recognize and obey. He added a few words
touching the power and glory of Count Frontenac, and concluded by asking
information concerning the Mississippi, and the tribes along its banks,
whom he was on his way to visit. The chief replied with a speech of
compliment; assuring his guests that their presence added flavor to his
tobacco, made the river more calm, the sky more serene, and the earth
more beautiful. In conclusion, he gave them a young slave and a calumet,
begging them at the same time to abandon their purpose of descending the
Mississippi.
A feast of four courses now followed. First, a wooden bowl full of a
porridge of Indian meal boiled with grease was set before the guests;
and the master of ceremonies fed them in turn, like infants, with a
large spoon. Then appeared a platter of fish; and the same functionary,
carefully removing the bones with his fingers, and blowing on the
morsels to cool them, placed them in the mouths of the two Frenchmen. A
large dog, killed and cooked for the occasion, was next placed before
them; but, failing to tempt their fastidious appetites, was supplanted
by a dish of fat buffalo-meat, which concluded the entertainment. The
crowd having dispersed, buffalo-robes were spread on the ground, and
Marquette and Joliet spent the night on the scene of the late festivity.
In the morning, the chief, with some six hundred of his tribesmen,
escorted them to their canoes, and bade them, after their stolid
fashion, a friendly farewell.
[Sidenote: A REAL DANGER.]
Again they were on their way, slowly drifting down the great river. They
passed the mouth of the Illinois, and glided beneath that line of rocks
on the eastern side, cut into fantastic forms by the elements, and
marked as "The Ruined Castles" on some of the early French maps.
Presently they beheld a sight which reminded them that the Devil was
still lord paramount of this wilderness. On the flat face of a high rock
were painted, in red, black, and green, a pair of monsters, each "as
large as a calf, with horns like a deer, red eyes, a beard like a tiger,
and a frightful expression of countenance. The face is something like
that of a man, the body covered with scales; and the tail so long that
it passes entirely round the body, over the head and between the legs,
ending like that of a fish." Such is the account which the worthy Jesuit
gives of these manitous, or Indian gods.[55] He confesses that at first
they frightened him; and his imagination and that of his credulous
companions was so wrought upon by these unhallowed efforts of Indian
art, that they continued for a long time to talk of them as they plied
their paddles. They were thus engaged, when they were suddenly aroused
by a real danger. A torrent of yellow mud rushed furiously athwart the
calm blue current of the Mississippi, boiling and surging, and sweeping
in its course logs, branches, and uprooted trees. They had reached the
mouth of the Missouri, where that savage river, descending from its mad
career through a vast unknown of barbarism, poured its turbid floods
into the bosom of its gentler sister. Their light canoes whirled on the
miry vortex like dry leaves on an angry brook. "I never," writes
Marquette, "saw anything more terrific;" but they escaped with their
fright, and held their way down the turbulent and swollen current of the
now united rivers.[56] They passed the lonely forest that covered the
site of the destined city of St. Louis, and, a few days later, saw on
their left the mouth of the stream to which the Iroquois had given the
well-merited name of Ohio, or the "Beautiful River."[57] Soon they began
to see the marshy shores buried in a dense growth of the cane, with its
tall straight stems and feathery light-green foliage. The sun glowed
through the hazy air with a languid stifling heat, and by day and night
mosquitoes in myriads left them no peace. They floated slowly down the
current, crouched in the shade of the sails which they had spread as
awnings, when suddenly they saw Indians on the east bank. The surprise
was mutual, and each party was as much frightened as the other.
Marquette hastened to display the calumet which the Illinois had given
him by way of passport; and the Indians, recognizing the pacific symbol,
replied with an invitation to land. Evidently, they were in
communication with Europeans, for they were armed with guns, knives, and
hatchets, wore garments of cloth, and carried their gunpowder in small
bottles of thick glass. They feasted the Frenchmen with buffalo-meat,
bear's oil, and white plums; and gave them a variety of doubtful
information, including the agreeable but delusive assurance that they
would reach the mouth of the river in ten days. It was, in fact, more
than a thousand miles distant.
[Sidenote: THE LOWER MISSISSIPPI.]
They resumed their course, and again floated down the interminable
monotony of river, marsh, and forest. Day after day passed on in
solitude, and they had paddled some three hundred miles since their
meeting with the Indians, when, as they neared the mouth of the
Arkansas, they saw a cluster of wigwams on the west bank. Their inmates
were all astir, yelling the war-whoop, snatching their weapons, and
running to the shore to meet the strangers, who, on their part, called
for succor to the Virgin. In truth, they had need of her aid; for
several large wooden canoes, filled with savages, were putting out from
the shore, above and below them, to cut off their retreat, while a swarm
of headlong young warriors waded into the water to attack them. The
current proved too strong; and, failing to reach the canoes of the
Frenchmen, one of them threw his war-club, which flew over the heads of
the startled travellers. Meanwhile, Marquette had not ceased to hold up
his calumet, to which the excited crowd gave no heed, but strung their
bows and notched their arrows for immediate action; when at length the
elders of the village arrived, saw the peace-pipe, restrained the ardor
of the youth, and urged the Frenchmen to come ashore. Marquette and his
companions complied, trembling, and found a better reception than they
had reason to expect. One of the Indians spoke a little Illinois, and
served as interpreter; a friendly conference was followed by a feast of
sagamite and fish; and the travellers, not without sore misgivings,
spent the night in the lodges of their entertainers.[58]
[Sidenote: THE ARKANSAS.]
Early in the morning, they embarked again, and proceeded to a village of
the Arkansas tribe, about eight leagues below. Notice of their coming
was sent before them by their late hosts; and as they drew near they
were met by a canoe, in the prow of which stood a naked personage,
holding a calumet, singing, and making gestures of friendship. On
reaching the village, which was on the east side,[59] opposite the mouth
of the river Arkansas, they were conducted to a sort of scaffold, before
the lodge of the war-chief. The space beneath had been prepared for
their reception, the ground being neatly covered with rush mats. On
these they were seated; the warriors sat around them in a semi-circle;
then the elders of the tribe; and then the promiscuous crowd of
villagers, standing, and staring over the heads of the more dignified
members of the assembly. All the men were naked; but, to compensate for
the lack of clothing, they wore strings of beads in their noses and
ears. The women were clothed in shabby skins, and wore their hair
clumped in a mass behind each ear. By good luck, there was a young
Indian in the village, who had an excellent knowledge of Illinois; and
through him Marquette endeavored to explain the mysteries of
Christianity, and to gain information concerning the river below. To
this end he gave his auditors the presents indispensable on such
occasions, but received very little in return. They told him that the
Mississippi was infested by hostile Indians, armed with guns procured
from white men; and that they, the Arkansas, stood in such fear of them
that they dared not hunt the buffalo, but were forced to live on Indian
corn, of which they raised three crops a year.
During the speeches on either side, food was brought in without
ceasing,--sometimes a platter of sagamite or mush; sometimes of corn
boiled whole; sometimes a roasted dog. The villagers had large earthen
pots and platters, made by themselves with tolerable skill, as well as
hatchets, knives, and beads, gained by traffic with the Illinois and
other tribes in contact with the French or Spaniards. All day there was
feasting without respite, after the merciless practice of Indian
hospitality; but at night some of their entertainers proposed to kill
and plunder them,--a scheme which was defeated by the vigilance of the
chief, who visited their quarters, and danced the calumet dance to
reassure his guests.
The travellers now held counsel as to what course they should take. They
had gone far enough, as they thought, to establish one important
point,--that the Mississippi discharged its waters, not into the
Atlantic or sea of Virginia, nor into the Gulf of California or
Vermilion Sea, but into the Gulf of Mexico. They thought themselves
nearer to its mouth than they actually were, the distance being still
about seven hundred miles; and they feared that if they went farther
they might be killed by Indians or captured by Spaniards, whereby the
results of their discovery would be lost. Therefore they resolved to
return to Canada, and report what they had seen.
They left the Arkansas village, and began their homeward voyage on the
seventeenth of July. It was no easy task to urge their way upward, in
the heat of midsummer, against the current of the dark and gloomy
stream, toiling all day under the parching sun, and sleeping at night in
the exhalations of the unwholesome shore, or in the narrow confines of
their birchen vessels, anchored on the river. Marquette was attacked
with dysentery. Languid and well-nigh spent, he invoked his celestial
mistress, as day after day, and week after week, they won their slow way
northward. At length, they reached the Illinois, and, entering its
mouth, followed its course, charmed, as they went, with its placid
waters, its shady forests, and its rich plains, grazed by the bison and
the deer. They stopped at a spot soon to be made famous in the annals of
western discovery. This was a village of the Illinois, then called
"Kaskaskia;" a name afterwards transferred to another locality.[60] A
chief, with a band of young warriors, offered to guide them to the Lake
of the Illinois; that is to say, Lake Michigan. Thither they repaired;
and, coasting its shores, reached Green Bay at the end of September,
after an absence of about four months, during which they had paddled
their canoes somewhat more than two thousand five hundred miles.[61]
[Sidenote: RETURN TO CANADA.]
Marquette remained to recruit his exhausted strength; but Joliet
descended to Quebec, to bear the report of his discovery to Count
Frontenac. Fortune had wonderfully favored him on his long and perilous
journey; but now she abandoned him on the very threshold of home. At the
foot of the rapids of La Chine, and immediately above Montreal, his
canoe was overset, two of his men and an Indian boy were drowned, all
his papers were lost, and he himself narrowly escaped.[62] In a letter
to Frontenac, he speaks of the accident as follows: "I had escaped every
peril from the Indians; I had passed forty-two rapids; and was on the
point of disembarking, full of joy at the success of so long and
difficult an enterprise, when my canoe capsized, after all the danger
seemed over. I lost two men and my box of papers, within sight of the
first French settlements, which I had left almost two years before.
Nothing remains to me but my life, and the ardent desire to employ it on
any service which you may please to direct."[63]
[Sidenote: MARQUETTE'S MISSION.]
Marquette spent the winter and the following summer at the mission of
Green Bay, still suffering from his malady. In the autumn, however, it
abated; and he was permitted by his Superior to attempt the execution of
a plan to which he was devotedly attached,--the founding, at the
principal town of the Illinois, of a mission to be called the
"Immaculate Conception," a name which he had already given to the river
Mississippi. He set out on this errand on the twenty-fifth of October,
accompanied by two men, named Pierre and Jacques, one of whom had been
with him on his great journey of discovery. A band of Pottawattamies and
another band of Illinois also joined him. The united parties--ten canoes
in all--followed the east shore of Green Bay as far as the inlet then
called "Sturgeon Cove," from the head of which they crossed by a
difficult portage through the forest to the shore of Lake Michigan.
November had come. The bright hues of the autumn foliage were changed to
rusty brown. The shore was desolate, and the lake was stormy. They were
more than a month in coasting its western border, when at length they
reached the river Chicago, entered it, and ascended about two leagues.
Marquette's disease had lately returned, and hemorrhage now ensued. He
told his two companions that this journey would be his last. In the
condition in which he was, it was impossible to go farther. The two men
built a log hut by the river, and here they prepared to spend the
winter; while Marquette, feeble as he was, began the spiritual exercises
of Saint Ignatius, and confessed his two companions twice a week.
Meadow, marsh, and forest were sheeted with snow, but game was abundant.
Pierre and Jacques killed buffalo and deer, and shot wild turkeys close
to their hut. There was an encampment of Illinois within two days'
journey; and other Indians, passing by this well-known thoroughfare,
occasionally visited them, treating the exiles kindly, and sometimes
bringing them game and Indian corn. Eighteen leagues distant was the
camp of two adventurous French traders,--one of them, a noted _coureur
de bois_, nicknamed La Taupine;[64] and the other, a self-styled
surgeon. They also visited Marquette, and befriended him to the best of
their power.
[Sidenote: THE MISSION AT KASKASKIA.]
Urged by a burning desire to lay, before he died, the foundation of his
new mission of the Immaculate Conception, Marquette begged his two
followers to join him in a _novena_, or nine days' devotion to the
Virgin. In consequence of this, as he believed, his disease relented; he
began to regain strength, and in March was able to resume the journey.
On the thirtieth of the month, they left their hut, which had been
inundated by a sudden rise of the river, and carried their canoe through
mud and water over the portage which led to the Des Plaines. Marquette
knew the way, for he had passed by this route on his return from the
Mississippi. Amid the rains of opening spring, they floated down the
swollen current of the Des Plaines, by naked woods and spongy, saturated
prairies, till they reached its junction with the main stream of the
Illinois, which they descended to their destination, the Indian town
which Marquette calls "Kaskaskia." Here, as we are told, he was received
"like an angel from Heaven." He passed from wigwam to wigwam, telling
the listening crowds of God and the Virgin, Paradise and Hell, angels
and demons; and, when he thought their minds prepared, he summoned them
all to a grand council.
It took place near the town, on the great meadow which lies between the
river and the modern village of Utica. Here five hundred chiefs and old
men were seated in a ring; behind stood fifteen hundred youths and
warriors, and behind these again all the women and children of the
village. Marquette, standing in the midst, displayed four large pictures
of the Virgin; harangued the assembly on the mysteries of the Faith, and
exhorted them to adopt it. The temper of his auditory met his utmost
wishes. They begged him to stay among them and continue his
instructions; but his life was fast ebbing away, and it behooved him to
depart.
[Sidenote: BURIAL OF MARQUETTE.]
A few days after Easter he left the village, escorted by a crowd of
Indians, who followed him as far as Lake Michigan. Here he embarked with
his two companions. Their destination was Michilimackinac, and their
course lay along the eastern borders of the lake. As, in the freshness
of advancing spring, Pierre and Jacques urged their canoe along that
lonely and savage shore, the priest lay with dimmed sight and prostrated
strength, communing with the Virgin and the angels. On the nineteenth of
May, he felt that his hour was near; and, as they passed the mouth of a
small river, he requested his companions to land. They complied, built a
shed of bark on a rising ground near the bank, and carried thither the
dying Jesuit. With perfect cheerfulness and composure, he gave
directions for his burial, asked their forgiveness for the trouble he
had caused them, administered to them the sacrament of penitence, and
thanked God that he was permitted to die in the wilderness, a missionary
of the Faith and a member of the Jesuit brotherhood. At night, seeing
that they were fatigued, he told them to take rest, saying that he would
call them when he felt his time approaching. Two or three hours after,
they heard a feeble voice, and, hastening to his side, found him at the
point of death. He expired calmly, murmuring the names of Jesus and
Mary, with his eyes fixed on the crucifix which one of his followers
held before him. They dug a grave beside the hut, and here they buried
him according to the directions which he had given them; then,
re-embarking, they made their way to Michilimackinac, to bear the
tidings to the priests at the mission of St. Ignace.[65]
In the winter of 1676, a party of Kiskakon Ottawas were hunting on Lake
Michigan; and when, in the following spring, they prepared to return
home, they bethought them, in accordance with an Indian custom, of
taking with them the bones of Marquette, who had been their instructor
at the mission of St. Esprit. They repaired to the spot, found the
grave, opened it, washed and dried the bones and placed them carefully
in a box of birch-bark. Then, in a procession of thirty canoes, they
bore it, singing their funeral songs, to St. Ignace of Michilimackinac.
As they approached, priests, Indians, and traders all thronged to the
shore. The relics of Marquette were received with solemn ceremony, and
buried beneath the floor of the little chapel of the mission.[66]
FOOTNOTES:
[46] _Lettre de Frontenac au Ministre, 2 Nov., 1672; Ibid., 14 Nov.,
1674_.
[47] See "The Jesuits in North America."
[48] "Le 2 Juillet (1666) les premières disputes de philosophie se font
dans la congrégation avec succès. Toutes les puissances s'y trouvent; M.
l'Intendant entr'autres y a argumenté très-bien. M. Jolliet et Pierre
Francheville y ont très-bien répondu de toute la logique."--_Journal des
Jésuites._
[49] Nothing was known of Joliet till Shea investigated his history.
Ferland, in his _Notes sur les Registres de Notre-Dame de Québec_;
Faillon, in his _Colonie Française en Canada_; and Margry, in a series
of papers in the _Journal Général de l'Instruction Publique_,--have
thrown much new light on his life. From journals of a voyage made by him
at a later period to the coast of Labrador, given in substance by
Margry, he seems to have been a man of close and intelligent
observation. His mathematical acquirements appear to have been very
considerable.
[50] The doctrine of the Immaculate Conception, sanctioned in our own
time by the Pope, was always a favorite tenet of the Jesuits; and
Marquette was especially devoted to it.
[51] The Malhoumines, Malouminek, Oumalouminek, or Nation des
Folles-Avoines, of early French writers. The _folle-avoine_, wild oats
or "wild rice" (_Zizania aquatica_), was their ordinary food, as also of
other tribes of this region.
[52] Dablon, on his journey with Allouez in 1670, was delighted with the
aspect of the country and the abundance of game along this river.
Carver, a century later, speaks to the same effect, saying that the
birds rose up in clouds from the wild-rice marshes.
[53] The above traits of the scenery of the Wisconsin are taken from
personal observation of the river during midsummer.
[54] The Indian villages, under the names of Peouaria (_Peoria_) and
Moingouena, are represented in Marquette's map upon a river
corresponding in position with the Des Moines; though the distance from
the Wisconsin, as given by him, would indicate a river farther north.
[55] The rock where these figures were painted is immediately above the
city of Alton. The tradition of their existence remains, though they are
entirely effaced by time. In 1867, when I passed the place, a part of
the rock had been quarried away, and, instead of Marquette's monsters,
it bore a huge advertisement of "Plantation Bitters." Some years ago,
certain persons, with more zeal than knowledge, proposed to restore the
figures, after conceptions of their own; but the idea was abandoned.
Marquette made a drawing of the two monsters, but it is lost. I have,
however, a fac-simile of a map made a few years later, by order of the
Intendant Duchesneau, which is decorated with the portrait of one of
them, answering to Marquette's description, and probably copied from his
drawing. St. Cosme, who saw them in 1699, says that they were even then
almost effaced. Douay and Joutel also speak of them,--the former,
bitterly hostile to his Jesuit contemporaries, charging Marquette with
exaggeration in his account of them. Joutel could see nothing terrifying
in their appearance; but he says that his Indians made sacrifices to
them as they passed.
[56] The Missouri is called "Pekitanouï" by Marquette. It also bears, on
early French maps, the names of "Rivière des Osages," and "Rivière des
Emissourites," or "Oumessourits." On Marquette's map, a tribe of this
name is placed near its banks, just above the Osages. Judging by the
course of the Mississippi that it discharged into the Gulf of Mexico, he
conceived the hope of one day reaching the South Sea by way of the
Missouri.
[57] Called, on Marquette's map, "Ouabouskiaou." On some of the earliest
maps, it is called "Ouabache" (Wabash).
[58] This village, called "Mitchigamea," is represented on several
contemporary maps.
[59] A few years later, the Arkansas were all on the west side.
[60] Marquette says that it consisted at this time of seventy-four
lodges. These, like the Huron and Iroquois lodges, contained each
several fires and several families. This village was about seven miles
below the site of the present town of Ottawa.
[61] The journal of Marquette, first published in an imperfect form by
Thevenot, in 1681, has been reprinted by Mr. Lenox, under the direction
of Mr. Shea, from the manuscript preserved in the archives of the
Canadian Jesuits. It will also be found in Shea's _Discovery and
Exploration of the Mississippi Valley_, and the _Relations Inédites_ of
Martin. The true map of Marquette accompanies all these publications.
The map published by Thevenot and reproduced by Bancroft is not
Marquette's. The original of this, of which I have a fac-simile, bears
the title _Carte de la Nouvelle Découverte que les Pères Jésuites ont
faite en l'année 1672, et continuée par le Père Jacques Marquette, etc._
The return route of the expedition is incorrectly laid down on it. A
manuscript map of the Jesuit Raffeix, preserved in the Bibliothèque
Impériale, is more accurate in this particular. I have also another
contemporary manuscript map, indicating the various Jesuit stations in
the West at this time, and representing the Mississippi, as discovered
by Marquette. For these and other maps, see Appendix.
[62] _Lettre de Frontenac au Ministre, Québec, 14 Nov., 1674._
[63] This letter is appended to Joliet's smaller map of his discoveries.
See Appendix. Compare _Détails sur le Voyage de Louis Joliet_ and
_Relation de la Descouverte de plusieurs Pays situez au midi de la
Nouvelle France, faite en 1673_ (Margry, i. 259). These are oral
accounts given by Joliet after the loss of his papers. Also, _Lettre de
Joliet, Oct. 10, 1674_ (Harrisse). On the seventh of October, 1675,
Joliet married Claire Bissot, daughter of a wealthy Canadian merchant,
engaged in trade with the northern Indians. This drew Joliet's attention
to Hudson's Bay; and he made a journey thither in 1679, by way of the
Saguenay. He found three English forts on the bay, occupied by about
sixty men, who had also an armed vessel of twelve guns and several small
trading-craft. The English held out great inducements to Joliet to join
them; but he declined, and returned to Quebec, where he reported that
unless these formidable rivals were dispossessed, the trade of Canada
would be ruined. In consequence of this report, some of the principal
merchants of the colony formed a company to compete with the English in
the trade of Hudson's Bay. In the year of this journey, Joliet received
a grant of the islands of Mignan; and in the following year, 1680, he
received another grant, of the great island of Anticosti in the lower
St. Lawrence. In 1681 he was established here, with his wife and six
servants. He was engaged in fisheries; and, being a skilful navigator
and surveyor, he made about this time a chart of the St. Lawrence. In
1690, Sir William Phips, on his way with an English fleet to attack
Quebec, made a descent on Joliet's establishment, burnt his buildings,
and took prisoners his wife and his mother-in-law. In 1694 Joliet
explored the coasts of Labrador, under the auspices of a company formed
for the whale and seal fishery. On his return, Frontenac made him royal
pilot for the St. Lawrence; and at about the same time he received the
appointment of hydrographer at Quebec. He died, apparently poor, in 1699
or 1700, and was buried on one of the islands of Mignan. The discovery
of the above facts is due in great part to the researches of Margry.
[64] Pierre Moreau, _alias_ La Taupine, was afterwards bitterly
complained of by the Intendant Duchesneau, for acting as the governor's
agent in illicit trade with the Indians.
[65] The contemporary _Relation_ tells us that a miracle took place at
the burial of Marquette. One of the two Frenchmen, overcome with grief
and colic, bethought him of applying a little earth from the grave to
the seat of pain. This at once restored him to health and cheerfulness.
[66] For Marquette's death, see the contemporary _Relation_, published
by Shea, Lenox, and Martin, with the accompanying _Lettre et Journal_.
The river where he died is a small stream in the west of Michigan, some
distance south of the promontory called the "Sleeping Bear." It long
bore his name, which is now borne by a larger neighboring stream,
Charlevoix's account of Marquette's death is derived from tradition, and
is not supported by the contemporary narrative. In 1877, human bones,
with fragments of birch-bark, were found buried on the supposed site of
the Jesuit chapel at Point St. Ignace.
In 1847, the missionary of the Algonquins at the Lake of Two Mountains,
above Montreal, wrote down a tradition of the death of Marquette, from
the lips of an old Indian woman, born in 1777, at Michilimackinac. Her
ancestress had been baptized by the subject of the story. The tradition
has a resemblance to that related as fact by Charlevoix. The old squaw
said that the Jesuit was returning, very ill, to Michilimackinac, when a
storm forced him and his two men to land near a little river. Here he
told them that he should die, and directed them to ring a bell over his
grave and plant a cross. They all remained four days at the spot; and,
though without food, the men felt no hunger. On the night of the fourth
day he died, and the men buried him as he had directed. On waking in the
morning, they saw a sack of Indian corn, a quantity of bacon, and some
biscuit, miraculously sent to them, in accordance with the promise of
Marquette, who had told them that they should have food enough for their
journey to Michilimackinac. At the same instant, the stream began to
rise, and in a few moments encircled the grave of the Jesuit, which
formed, thenceforth, an islet in the waters. The tradition adds, that an
Indian battle afterwards took place on the banks of this stream, between
Christians and infidels; and that the former gained the victory, in
consequence of invoking the name of Marquette. This story bears the
attestation of the priest of the Two Mountains that it is a literal
translation of the tradition, as recounted by the old woman.
It has been asserted that the Illinois country was visited by two
priests, some time before the visit of Marquette. This assertion was
first made by M. Noiseux, late Grand Vicar of Quebec, who gives no
authority for it. Not the slightest indication of any such visit appears
in any contemporary document or map, thus far discovered. The
contemporary writers, down to the time of Marquette and La Salle, all
speak of the Illinois as an unknown country. The entire groundlessness
of Noiseux's assertion is shown by Shea, in a paper in the "Weekly
Herald," of New York, April 21,1855.