Taking advantage of the profound peace which now blessed New
France,[387] M. Talon, the intendant, dispatched an experienced
traveler, named Nicholas Perrot, to the distant northern and western
tribes, for the purpose of inducing them to fix a meeting at some
convenient place with a view of discussing the rights of the French
crown. This bold adventurer penetrated among the nations dwelling by the
great lakes, and with admirable address induced them all to send
deputies to the Falls of St. Mary, where the waters of Lake Superior
pour into Lake Huron. The Sieur de St. Lusson met the assembled Indian
chiefs at this place in May, 1671; he persuaded them to acknowledge the
sovereignty of his king, and erected a cross bearing the arms of France.
M. de Courcelles was succeeded by the able and chivalrous Louis de
Buade, comte de Frontenac. The new governor was a soldier of high rank,
and a trusty follower of the great Henry of Navarre; his many high
qualities were, however, obscured by a capricious and despotic temper.
His plans for the advancement of the colony were bold and judicious, his
representations to the government of France fearless and effectual, his
personal conduct and piety unimpeachable, but he exhibited a bitterness
and asperity to those who did not enter into his views little suited to
the better points of his character, and it is said that ambition and the
love of authority at times overcame his zeal for the public good.[388]
M. Talon, the intendant, was at this time recalled by his own wish, but
before he departed from the scenes of his useful labors he planned a
scheme of exploration more extensive than any that had yet been
accomplished in New France. From the rumors and traditions among the
savages of the far West, with which the meeting at St. Mary's had made
the French acquainted, it was believed that to the southwest of New
France there flowed a vast river, called by the natives Mechasepe, whose
course was neither toward the great lakes to the north, nor the Atlantic
to the east. It was therefore surmised that this unknown flood must pour
its waters either into the Gulf of Mexico or the Pacific Ocean. The wise
intendant was impressed with the importance of possessing a channel of
navigation to the waters of the south and west, and before his departure
from America made arrangements to have the course of the mysterious
stream[389] explored. He intrusted the arduous duty to Father Marquette,
a pious priest, who was experienced in Indian travel, and an adventurous
and able merchant of Quebec, named Jolyet. (1673.) The Comte de
Frontenac gave hearty aid to this expedition, and in the mean time he
himself extended the line of French settlement to the shores of Lake
Ontario,[390] built there the fort that still bears his name, and opened
communication with the numerous tribes westward of the Allegany
Mountains.
The exploring party, led by Marquette[391] and Jolyet, consisted of
only six men, in two little bark canoes: at the very outset the Indians
of the lakes told them that great and terrible dangers would beset their
path, and recounted strange tales of supernatural difficulties and
perils for those who had ventured to explore the mysterious regions of
the West. Hearkening carefully to whatever useful information the
natives could bestow, but despising their timid warnings, these
adventurous men hastened on over the great lakes to the northwestern
extremity of the deep and stormy Michigan, now called Green Bay.
Numerous Indian tribes wandered over the surrounding country; among
others, the Miamis, the most civilized and intelligent of the native
race that they had yet seen. Two hunters of this nation undertook to
guide the expedition to one of the tributaries of the great river of
which they were in search. The French were struck with wonder at the
vast prairies that lay around their route on every side, monotonous, and
apparently boundless as the ocean.
The Fox River was the stream to which the Miamis first led them.
Although it was broad at its entrance into the lake the upper portion
was divided by marshes into a labyrinth of narrow channels; as they
passed up the river, the wild oats grew so thickly in the water that the
adventurers appeared to row through fields of corn. After a portage of a
mile and a half, they launched their canoes in the Wisconsin River, a
tributary of the Mississippi, and the guides left them to find their way
into the unknown solitudes of the West. Their voyage down the tributary
was easy and prosperous, and at length, to their great joy, they reached
the magnificent stream of the Mississippi. The banks were rich and
beautiful, the trees the loftiest they had yet seen, and wild bulls and
other animals roamed in vast herds over the flowery meadows.[393]
For more than 200 miles Marquette and his companions continued their
course through verdant and majestic solitudes, where no sign of human
life appeared. At length the foot-prints of men rejoiced their sight,
and, by following up the track, they arrived at a cluster of inhabited
villages, where they were kindly and hospitably received. Their hosts
called themselves Illinois, which means "men" in the native tongue, and
is designed to express their supposed superiority over their neighbors.
Marquette considered them the most civilized of the native American
nations.
Neither fear for the future nor the enjoyment of present comfort could
damp the ardor of the French adventurers; they soon again launched their
little canoes on the Father of Waters, and followed the course of the
stream. They passed a number of bold rocks that rose straight up from
the water's edge; on one of these, strange monsters were curiously
painted in brilliant colors. Soon after they came to the place where the
great Missouri pours its turbid and noisy flood into the Mississippi;
and next they reached a lofty range of cliffs, that stretched nearly
across from bank to bank, breasting the mighty stream. With great
difficulty and danger they guided their little canoes through these
turbulent waters. They passed the entrance of the Ohio,[394] and were
again astonished at the vast size of the tributaries which fed the flood
of the mysterious river. The inhabitants of the villages on the banks
accepted the calumet of peace, and held friendly intercourse with the
adventurers; and although, after passing the mouth of the Arkansas
River, a proposition was made in the council of one tribe to slay and
rob them, the chief indignantly overruled the cruel suggestion, and
presented them with the sacred pipe.
At the village where they were threatened with this great danger they
were inaccurately informed that the sea was only distant five days'
voyage. From this the travelers concluded that the waters of the
Mississippi poured into the Gulf of Mexico, and not, as they had fondly
hoped, into the Pacific Ocean. Fearing, therefore, that by venturing
further they might fall into the hands of the Spaniards, and lose all
the fruits of their toils and dangers, they determined to re-ascend the
stream and return to Canada. After a long and dreary voyage, they
reached Chicago, on Lake Michigan, where the adventurers separated.
Father Marquette remained among the friendly Miamis, and Jolyet hastened
to Quebec to announce their discoveries. Unfortunately, their
enlightened patron, M. Talon, had already departed for France.
There chanced, however, to be at Quebec at that time a young Frenchman,
of some birth and fortune, named Robert Cavalier, sieur de la Salle,
ambitious, brave, and energetic. He had emigrated to America with a hope
of gaining fame and wealth in the untrodden paths of a new world. The
first project that occupied his active mind was the discovery of a route
to China[395] and Japan, by the unexplored regions of the west of
Canada. The information brought by Jolyet to Quebec excited his sanguine
expectations. Impressed with the strange idea that the Missouri would
lead to the Northern Ocean, he determined to explore its course, and
having gained the sanction of the governor, sailed for France to seek
the means of fitting out an expedition. In this he succeeded by the
favor of the Prince of Conti. The Chevalier de Tonti, a brave officer,
who had lost an arm in the Sicilian wars, was associated with him in the
enterprise.
On the 14th of July, 1678, La Salle and Tonti embarked at Rochelle with
thirty men, and in two months arrived at Quebec. They took Father
Hennepin with them, and hastened on to the great lakes,[396] where they
spent two years in raising forts and building vessels of forty or fifty
tons burden, and carrying on the fur trade with the natives. The party
then pushed forward to the extremity of Michigan. Their friendly
relations with the Indians were here interrupted by a party of the
Outagamis having robbed them of a coat. The French held a council to
devise means of deterring the savages from such depredations, and it was
somewhat hastily determined to demand restitution of the coat under the
threat of putting the offending chief to death. The Outagamis, having
divided the stolen garment into a number of small pieces for general
distribution, found it impossible to comply with this requisition, and
thinking that no resource remained, presented themselves to the French
in battle array. However, through the wise mediation of Father Hennepin,
the quarrel was arranged, and a good understanding restored.
La Salle now set out with a party of forty-four men and three Recollets,
to pursue his cherished object of exploring the course of the
Mississippi. He descended the stream of the Illinois, and was charmed
with the beauty and fertility of the banks: large villages rose on each
side; the first, containing 500 wooden huts, they found deserted, but in
descending the river they suddenly perceived that two large bodies of
Indians were assembled on opposite banks, in order of battle. After a
parley, however, the Indians presented the calumet of peace, and
entertained the strangers at a great feast.
The discontents among his own followers proved far more dangerous to La
Salle than the caprice or hostility of the savages. They murmured at
being led into unknown regions, among barbarous tribes, to gratify the
ambition of an adventurer, and determined to destroy him and return to
France. They were base enough to tell the natives that La Salle was a
spy of the Iroquois, their ancient enemies, and it required all his
genius and courage to remove this idea from the minds of the ignorant
savages. Failing in this scheme, they endeavored to poison him and all
his faithful adherents at a Christmas dinner; by the use of timely
remedies, however, the intended victims recovered, and the villains,
having fled, were in vain pursued over the trackless deserts.
La Salle was obliged to return to the forts for aid, on account of the
desertion of so many of his followers; but he sent Father Hennepin, with
Dacan and three other Frenchmen, to explore the sources of the
Mississippi, and left Tonti in the command of a small fort, erected on
the Illinois, which he, however, was soon obliged to desert, in
consequence of the hostility of the Iroquois. La Salle collected twenty
men, with the necessary arms and provisions, and, unshaken by
accumulated disasters, determined at once to make his way to the Gulf of
Mexico down the course of the Mississippi. He passed the entrance of the
swollen and muddy Missouri, and the beautiful Ohio, and, still
descending, traversed countries where dwelt the numerous and friendly
Chickasaw and Arkansaw Indians. Next he came to the Taencas, a people
far advanced beyond their savage neighbors in civilization, and obeying
an absolute prince. Farther on, the Natchez received him with
hospitality; but the Quinipissas, who inhabited the shores more to the
south, assailed him with showers of arrows. He wisely pursued his
important journey without seeking to avenge the insult. Tangibao, still
lower down the stream, had just been desolated by one of the terrible
irruptions of savage war: the bodies of the dead lay piled in heaps
among the ruins of their former habitations. For leagues beyond, the
channel began to widen, and at length became so vast that one shore was
no longer visible from the other. The water was now brackish, and
beautiful sea-shells were seen strewn along the shore. They had reached
the mouth of the Mississippi, the Father of Rivers.
La Salle celebrated the successful end of his adventurous voyage with
great rejoicings. Te Deum was sung, a cross was suspended from the top
of a lofty tree, and a shield, bearing the arms of France, was erected
close at hand. They attempted to determine the latitude by an
observation of the sun, but the result was altogether erroneous.
The country immediately around the outlet of this vast stream was
desolate and uninteresting. Far as the eye could teach, swampy flats and
inundated morasses filled the dreary prospect. Under the ardent rays of
the tropical sun, noisome vapors exhaled from the rank soil and
sluggish waters, poisoning the breezes from the southern seas, and
corrupting them into the breath of pestilence. Masses of floating trees,
whose large branches were scathed by months of alternate immersion and
exposure, during hundreds of leagues of travel, choked up many of the
numerous outlets of the river, and, cemented together by the alluvial
deposits of the muddy stream, gradually became fixed and solid, throwing
up a rank vegetation.[397] Above this dreary delta, however, the country
was rich and beautiful, and graceful undulations succeeded to the
monotonous level of the lower banks.
After a brief repose, La Salle proceeded to re-ascend the river toward
Canada, eager to carry the important tidings of his success to France.
His journey was beset with difficulties and dangers. The course of the
stream, though not rapid, perpetually impeded his progress. Provisions
began to fail, and dire necessity drove him to perilous measures for
obtaining supplies. Having met with four women of the hostile tribe of
the Quinipissas, he treated them with great kindness, loading them with
such gifts as might most win their favor. The chief of the savages then
came forward and invited the French to his village, offering them the
much-needed refreshments which they sought. But a cruel treachery lurked
under this friendly seeming, and the adventurers were only saved from
destruction by the careful vigilance of their leader. At daybreak the
following morning, the Indians made a sudden attack upon their guests;
the French, however, being thoroughly on the alert, repulsed the
assailants, and slew several of the bravest warriors. Infuriated by the
treachery of the savages, the victors followed the customs of Indian
warfare, and scalped those of the enemy who fell into their power.
As they ascended the river they were again endangered by the secret
hostility of the Natchez,[398] from the effects of which a constant
front of preparation alone preserved them. After several months of
unceasing toil and watchfulness, with many strange and romantic
adventures, but no other serious obstruction, the hardy travelers at
length joyfully beheld the headland of Quebec.
Immediately after his arrival, La Salle hastened to France to announce
his great discovery,[399] and reap the distinction justly due to his
eminent merits. (1682.) He was received with every honor, and all his
plans and suggestions were approved by the court. Under his direction
and command, an expedition was fitted out, consisting of four vessels
and 280 men, for the purpose of forming a settlement at the mouth of the
Mississippi, and thence establishing a regular communication with
Canada, along the course of the Great River. At the same time, he
received the commission of governor over the whole of the vast country
extending between the lakes and the Gulf of Mexico. The little squadron
sailed from La Rochelle on the 24th of July, 1684, along with the West
India fleet, and having touched at St. Domingo and Cuba by the way,
arrived in safety on the coast of Florida.
La Salle was involved in great perplexity by ignorance of the longitude
of the river's mouth. Not having descended so far in his former
expedition as to be able to judge of its appearance from the sea, he
passed the main entrance of the Mississippi unawares, and proceeded 200
miles to the westward, where he found himself in a bay, since called St.
Bernard's. Attracted by the favorable appearance of the surrounding
country, La Salle here founded the fort which was to be the basis of his
future establishment. But difficulties and misfortunes crowded upon him;
the vessel containing his stores and utensils was sunk through the
negligence or treachery of her commander, and a great portion of the
cargo lost or seized by the Indians. The violent measures he adopted to
compel restitution of the plundered goods kindled a deep resentment in
the minds of this fierce and haughty tribe, the Clamcoets by name. They
made a sudden midnight attack upon the settlement, slew two of the
French, and wounded several, and whenever opportunity offered afterward,
repeated their assaults. The tropical climate, however, proved a far
deadlier foe than even the savage, and at length the spirit of the
colonists gave way under accumulated difficulties.
Meanwhile Tonti, who had descended the Mississippi to join La Salle,
sought him in vain at the mouth of the river, and along the coast for
twenty leagues at either side. Having found no trace or tidings of the
expedition, he relinquished the search in despair, and sailed upward
again to the Canadian Lakes.
La Salle bore up with noble courage and energy against the difficulties
that surrounded him. His subordinates thwarted him on every occasion,
and at length broke out into a violent mutiny, which he, however,
vigorously suppressed. But when he discovered that the settlement
founded and sustained by his unceasing labors was not, as he had fondly
supposed, at the mouth of the Great River, he experienced the bitterest
disappointment. The surrounding country, though fertile, offered no
brilliant prospect of sudden wealth or hopes of future commerce. He
determined, therefore, once again to explore the vast streams of the
Mississippi and Illinois, and to endeavor to gain a greater knowledge of
the interior of the continent. He took with him on this expedition his
nephew, a worthy but impetuous youth, named Moranger, and about twenty
men. This young man's haughty spirit excited a savage thirst of
vengeance in the minds of his uncle's lawless followers; they watched
their opportunity, and in a remote and dreary solitude in the depths of
the new continent, La Salle and Moranger were both slain by their
murderous hands. Thus sadly perished, in a nameless wilderness, one of
the most daring and gifted among those wonderful men to whom the
discovery of the New World had opened a field of glory. His temper was,
doubtless, at times, violent and overbearing,[400] but he was dearly
loved by his friends, respected by his dependents, and fondly revered by
those among the Indians who came within his influence. His greatest
difficulties arose from those who were placed under his command,
abandoned and ungovernable men, the very refuse of society, and amenable
to no laws, human or divine.
It has been already mentioned that La Salle had sent Dacan and Father
Hennepin to explore the Mississippi, on his first return from the
Illinois to Lake Michigan. They descended that great river almost to the
sea; but their followers, becoming alarmed at the idea of falling into
the hands of the Spaniards, compelled them to return without having
perfected their expedition. They re-ascended the stream, and passed the
mouths of the Illinois and Wisconsin, and even reached beyond those
magnificent falls to which the adventurous priest has given the name of
St. Anthony. Continual danger threatened these travelers, from the
caprice or hostility of the Indians; they were held for a long time in a
cruel captivity, forced to accompany their captors through the most
difficult countries, at a pace of almost incredible rapidity, till, with
their feet and limbs cut and bleeding, they were well-nigh incapable of
moving any further. After some time Hennepin was adopted by a chief as
his son, and treated with much kindness; when winter came on, however,
and a great scarcity of provisions arose, the Indians, being unable any
longer to support their captives, allowed them to depart. The father and
his companions used this liberty to continue their explorations down the
Mississippi. After many other perils and adventures, they at length met
the Sieur de Luth, who commanded a party sent in search of them, and
with further instructions to form a settlement on the Great River.
Hennepin at first turned back with the sieur, but found so many
obstacles and difficulties that he determined for the present to return
to Canada.
The disasters attending the expeditions of La Salle and Hennepin for
some time deterred others from venturing to explore the dangerous
regions of the West, and the government totally neglected to occupy the
splendid field which the adventure of those men had opened to French
enterprise. It was left to the love of gain or glory, or the religious
zeal of individuals, to continue the explorations of this savage but
magnificent country. The Baron la Hontan was one of the first and most
conspicuous of these dauntless travelers.[401] He had gone to Canada in
early life with a view of retrieving the broken fortunes of his ancient
family, and had obtained employment upon the lakes under the French
government. While thus occupied, he became intimately acquainted with
the life and customs of the savages, and, from his intercourse with
them, formed the idea of penetrating into the interior of their country,
where the white man's foot had never before trodden. His actual
discoveries were probably not very important, and his record of them is
confused and imperfect; but he was the first to learn the existence of
the Rocky Mountains, and of that vast ocean which separates the western
coast of North America from the continent of Asia.[402]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 387: "On esperoit beaucoup de la Compagnie des Indes
Occidentales, mais elle ne prit guere plus a coeur les interets de la
Nouvelle France, que n'avoit fait la precedente, ainsi que M. Talon
avoit prevu. Cependant comme les secours que le Canada avait recus les
dernieres annees, l'avoient mis sur un assez bon pied, il s'y conserva
quelque tems, et il n'est pas meme retombe depuis dans l'etat de
foiblesse et d'epuisement dont le roi venoit de le tirer."--Charlevoix,
tom. ii., p. 161.]
[Footnote 388: "Le peuple adoroit Frontenac a cause de sa bonte."--La
Potherie, tom. iv., p. 110; Charlevoix, tom ii., p. 246.]
[Footnote 389: The Mississippi.]
[Footnote 390: "Ce lac a porte quelque tems le nom de St. Louis, on lui
donna ensuite celui de Frontenac, aussi bien qu'au fort de Catarocoui
dont le Comte de Frontenac fut le fondateur, mais insensiblement le lac
a repris son ancien nom, qui est Huron ou Iroquois, et le fort celui du
lieu ou il est bati (1721)."--Charlevoix, tom. v., p. 287.]
[Footnote 391: "Le Pere J. Marquette, natif de Laon en Picardie, a ete
un des plus illustres missionnaires du la Nouvelle France; il en a
parcouru presque toutes les contrees, et il y a fait plusieurs
decouvertes dont la derniere est celle du Micissipi. Deux ans apres
cette decouverte, comme il alloit a Michillimackinack, il entra le 18me
de May, 1675, dans la riviere dont il s'agit; il dressa son autel sur le
terrein bas, qu'on lassia a droite en y entrant, et il y dit la messe.
Il s'eloigna, ensuite un peu pour faire son action de graces, et pria
les hommes qui conduisoient son canot, de le laisser seul pendant une
demie heure. Ce tems passe, ils allerent le chercher, et furent tres
surpris de le trouver mort, ils se souvinrent neanmoins qu'en entrant
dans la riviere, il lui etoit echappe de dire qu'il finiroit la son
voyage. Aujourd'hui les sauvages n'appellent cette riviere autrement que
la riviere de la robe noire;[392] les Francois lui ont donne le nom du
Pere Marquette, et ne manquent jamais de l'invoquer, quand ils se
trouvent en quelque danger sur le Lac Michigan. Plusieurs ont assure
qu'ils se croyoient redevables a son intercession, d'avoir echappe a de
tres grands perils."--Charlevoix, tom. vi., p. 21.]
[Footnote 392: "Les sauvages appellent ainsi les Jesuites. Ils nomment
les Pretres, les Collets blancs, et les Recollets, les Robes grises."]
[Footnote 393: Relation de Marquette: Recueil de Thevenot, tom. i.]
[Footnote 394: The signification of the word Ohio is "Beautiful River."
According to Bancroft, it was called the Wabash in La Salle's time, and
long afterward.]
[Footnote 395: "La Chine is a fine village three French miles to the
southeast of Montreal, but on the same side, close to the River St.
Lawrence. Here is a church of stone, with a small steeple, and the whole
place has a very agreeable situation. Its name is said to have had the
following origin: As the unfortunate M. de Sales was here, who was
afterward murdered by his own countrymen further up the country, he was
very intent on discovering a shorter road to China by means of the River
St. Lawrence. He talked of nothing at that time but his now short way to
China; but, as his project of undertaking this journey in order to make
this discovery was stopped by an accident which happened to him here,
and he did not at that time come any nearer China, this place got its
name, as it were, by way of joke."--Kalm, in Pinkerton, vol. xiii., p.
699.]
[Footnote 396: See Appendix. No. LXIV. (see Vol II)]
[Footnote 397: "This is the site of New Orleans. New Orleans, holding,
from its position, the command of all the immense navigable
river-courses of interior America, is making the most rapid progress of
any American city, and will doubtless one day become the greatest in
that continent--perhaps even in the world. A formidable evil, however,
exists in the insalubrity of the air, arising from the extensive marshes
and inundated grounds which border the lower part of the Mississippi.
The terrible malady that bears the name of the yellow fever, makes its
first appearance in the early days of August, and continues till
October. During that era New Orleans appears like a deserted city; all
who possibly can, fly to the north or the upper country; most of the
shops are shut; and the silence of the streets is only interrupted by
the sound of the hearse passing through them. In one year two thousand
died of this fever. Since the morasses have been partially cleared, its
ravages have been less destructive; and, as this work is going on, the
city may hope, in time, to be almost free from this terrible
scourge."--Murray's _America_, vol. ii., p. 428.]
[Footnote 398: "Garcilasso de la Vega parle de cette nation comme d'un
peuple puissant, et il n'y a pas six ans qu'on y comptoit quatre mille
guerriers. Aujourd'hui les Natchez ne pourroient pas mettre sur pied
deux mille combattans (1714)."--Charlevoix, tom. vi., p. 177.]
[Footnote 399: "La Louisiane est le nom que M. de la Sale a donne au
pays qu'arrose le Mississippi audessous de la Riviere des Illinois et
qu'il a conserve jusqu'a present. C'etoit en l'honneur de Louis XIV.,
qui regnoit alors en France."--Charlevoix, tom. ii., p. 436.]
[Footnote 400: Charlevoix thus speaks of the selection of M. de la Salle
by M. de Seignelay: "Il n'est point de vertu qui ne soit melee de
quelque defaut: c'est le sort ordinaire de l'humanite. Ce qui met le
comble a notre humiliation, c'est que les plus grands defauts
accompagnent souvent les plus eminentes qualites, et que la jalousie que
celles-ci inspirent trouve presque toujours dans ceux-la un specieux
pretexte pour couvrir ce que cette passion a de bas et d'injuste. C'est
a ceux qui sont etablis pour gouverner les hommes a se faire jour pour
sortir de cette labyrinthe, a degager le vrai des tenebres dont la
passion veut l'offusquer, et a connoitre si bien ceux dont ils veulent
se servir, qu'en leur donnent lieu de faire usage de ce qu'ils ont de
bon, ils se precautionnent sur ce qu'ils ont de mauvais."--Charlevoix,
tom. ii., p. 2.]
[Footnote 401: _Memoires de l'Amerique Septentrionale par M. le Baron de
la Hontan_: a Amsterdam, 1705. For the character of these memoirs, see
Charlevoix, tom. vi., p. 408. They are translated in Pinkerton, vol.
xiii.]
[Footnote 402: The North Pacific Ocean. The South Pacific Ocean had been
discovered by the Spaniard Balboa in 1513.]