JOUTEL’S JOURNAL OF
LA SALLE’S LAST VOYAGE.
Edition limited to five hundred copies printed from type
of which this is No.____
[Illustration: GUDEBROD’S STATUE OF LA SALLE
AT THE LOUISIANA PURCHASE EXPOSITION, ST. LOUIS, 1904.]
Joutel’s Journal of
La Salle’s Last Voyage
1684–7
WITH A FRONTISPIECE OF GUDEBROD’S
STATUE OF LA SALLE AND THE MAP OF
THE ORIGINAL FRENCH EDITION, PARIS
1713, IN FACSIMILE.
[Illustration]
NEW EDITION WITH HISTORICAL AND
BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION, ANNOTATIONS
AND INDEX BY _HENRY REED STILES,
A. M., M. D._
TO WHICH IS ADDED A BIBLIOGRAPHY
OF THE DISCOVERY OF THE MISSISSIPPI
BY _APPLETON P. C. GRIFFIN_, OF THE LIBRARY
OF CONGRESS.
ALBANY, N. Y.
JOSEPH McDONOUGH
1906
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1906
BY JOSEPH McDONOUGH,
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington.
TO THE MEMORY OF
JOHN GILMARY SHEA, LL. D.,
THE INDEFATIGABLE HISTORIAN
OF THE
MISSIONS, LITERATURE AND HISTORY
OF THE
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH IN NORTH AMERICA,
AND A
MAN OF MODEST, PIOUS AND BLAMELESS LIFE
THIS,
THE FINAL VOLUME OF A SERIES PROJECTED
BY HIMSELF, OVER FORTY YEARS AGO,
IS
SINCERELY DEDICATED
BY
THE PUBLISHER AND EDITOR.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE.
This volume is the concluding one of a series projected by the late
JOHN GILMARY SHEA, LL. D., on the “Discovery and Explorations of the
Mississippi Valley.” The initial volume, issued in 1852, comprises the
Narratives of Marquette, Allouez, Membré, Hennepin and Anastase Douay.
The second, issued in 1861, contains those of Cavelier, St. Cosme, Le
Seuer, Gravier and Guignas.
The present volume, giving Joutel’s Journal of La Salle’s third and
last voyage, is reprinted from the first English translation of 1714,
of the original French edition of 1713.
A _facsimile_ reprint of the above English edition was issued
(privately) by the Caxton Club of Chicago, in 1896, in an edition
of 203 copies, and enriched by textual notes by Prof. MELVILLE B.
ANDERSON, now of Menlo Park, California,—the result of his careful
collation of the English with the French original. These notes, by
the special permission of Mr. Anderson, have been incorporated in the
present volume and indicated by his initials.
With a view, also, to render this edition as compendious a source of
reference as possible for the student of this subject, we have added,
by the courtesy of the author, the exceedingly full and valuable
“Bibliography of the Discovery and Explorations in the Mississippi
Valley,” by Mr. APPLETON P. C. GRIFFIN, formerly of the Boston
Public Library, now Chief Bibliographer of the Library of Congress,
Washington, D. C.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PAGE
Dedication v
Publisher’s Note vi
Historical Introduction 1
Biographical Notice of Joutel 27
Original Title Page in facsimile 31
The French Bookseller to the reader 33
The Preface written by Sieur de Mitchell 47
Joutel’s Journal with notes and annotations 53
Remainder of Letter by he who revis’d this Journal, being
sequel to same 203
Letters Patent granted by the King of France to M. Crozat 212
Bibliography of “The Discovery of the Mississippi,” by Appleton
P. C. Griffin 221
Index 241
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Heliotype reproduction of Gudebrod’s Statue of La Salle
produced for the Louisiana Purchase Exposition at
Saint Louis, 1904 _Frontispiece_
Reproduction in facsimile of Joutel’s Map originally
published in the Paris edition of 1713 _End of volume_
_Historical Introduction._
LA SALLE’S TWO PREVIOUS VOYAGES.
The earliest French explorers of the seventeenth century, among the
great lakes and rivers of the North American continent,—Champlain,
Nicolet, Marquette, Hennepin, Joliet and La Salle—were men of no
common mould. Whether clerics, imbued with the enthusiasm of their
holy faith, or laymen, dominated by the love of adventure and the
prospect of adding to the wealth and glory of their beloved France,
their ideals were sublime, their labors prodigious, their sufferings
heroic, their perseverance indomitable. They possessed “the courage of
their convictions;” and despite the difficulties, dangers, and reverses
which befell them, their successive explorations all contributed to the
result finally achieved by La Salle,—the discovery of the “Father of
Waters”—the Mississippi.
“Second only to Champlain, among the heroes of Canadian history,” says
John Fiske,[1] “stands Robert Cavelier de la Salle—a man of iron, if
ever there was one—a man austere and cold in manner, and endowed with
such indomitable pluck and perseverance as have never been surpassed
in the world. He did more than any other man to extend the dominion
of France in the New World. As Champlain had founded the colony of
Canada, and opened the way to the great lakes, so La Salle completed
the discovery of the Mississippi, and added to the French possessions
the vast province of Louisiana.”
René Robert Cavelier, better known as La Salle, from the name of the
family’s estate, was born, in 1643, at Rouen, Normandy, France. The
Caveliers, though not ennobled, were citizens of marked social and some
official distinction in that ancient and wealthy city. His father,
Jean, and his uncle Henri, were rich merchants, and the latter, at
least, was one of the “Hundred Associates” of Cardinal Richelieu, a
syndicate largely interested in trade with the territorial possessions
of France, in America.[2] Being an earnest Catholic, Robert, at an
early age, became connected with the Jesuits, and in their schools
acquired an excellent education, especially in the higher mathematics
and the exact sciences. His nature, however, was one which chafed under
the restrictions of a monastic order; and he subsequently withdrew from
them, though on good terms, and with a reputation as a bright scholar,
and of unimpeachable morals. Free to seek a wider field for his
activities than that offered by an ecclesiastical career, his attention
was drawn to Canada, where an elder brother, John Cavelier, a priest of
the Sulpitian order, was then residing. But, as his connection with and
withdrawal from the Jesuit order had—under a recent French law—deprived
him of any claim upon the estate of his recently deceased father, he
lacked the means needed for the voyage thither. Finally, he obtained an
allowance (probably from his family) of 300 or 400 livres, with which
slender sum he sailed to seek his fortune, in the spring of 1666.
Shortly after his arrival at Montreal, he received from the Superior of
the Sulpitian Seminary, which had recently become the feudal lord of
that city, a large grant of land (a “seigniory”) in that vicinity.[3]
This he immediately proceeded to improve, by the introduction of new
settlers as tenants, the erection of buildings, and the cultivation of
the soil. It is probable, however, that even before coming to Canada
he had outlined to himself a much wider sphere of activity. For, with
the prevision which was a feature of his character, he spent much
of his time during the first two years of his life at La Chine, in
mastering the Indian languages, especially those of the Iroquois and
Algonquin dialects. And in this, he evidently struck upon the initial
point of his future career. For, from a party of Senecas who visited
with him several weeks at his seigniory, he learned of a great river
(which they called the Ohio) “flowing into the sea,” and only to be
reached by a journey of eight or nine months. This, he conceived,
might be the river of which he had already heard as emptying into the
“Vermilion Sea,” or Gulf of California, and, thinking that perchance
it might possibly prove to be a northwest route to China, he projected
a voyage of discovery thither.[4] With this in view he planned a visit
to the Senecas, to learn all that they might know in relation to the
matter. Communicating his plans to the Governor (Courcelle) and the
Intendant (Talon) of Canada, he received from them the necessary
authorization to make the attempt. But first, as it must be made at
his own expense, and as he had already spent all his means upon the
improvement of his seigniory, he was obliged to sell his lands, etc.,
mainly to the Seminary, from which he had obtained them. He, also,
though perhaps rather unfortunately, joined his interests with those of
the Sulpitians, in a voyage of discovery which that order were about to
make for missionary purposes, in the same direction.
THE FIRST VOYAGE OF EXPLORATION, 1669–1675.
This joint expedition, under command of La Salle, started from La
Chine, July 6th, 1669, with the Ohio river as its objective point. It
consisted of 4 canoes, and 15 men of La Salle’s party; 3 canoes and 7
men of the Sulpitian contingent, and 2 canoes of Seneca Indians, acting
as guides—9 canoes and 24 men in all. Thirty-five days travel brought
them to the Seneca village (Irondequoit, on the south side of Lake
Ontario), where they found a cordial welcome, but, also, difficulty
in obtaining guides. While thus delayed, there arrived in camp two
Frenchmen, one of whom was Louis Joliet, fur-trader and voyageur,
himself an honorable figure in the annals of western discovery. Joliet,
who had visited the upper lakes, whither he had been sent by Talon,
the French Intendant at Montreal, to discover and report upon the
copper mines of Lake Superior, showed to the priests of La Salle’s
party a map which he had made of that region, and of which he gave
them a copy; and he told them, moreover, of the heathenish condition
of the Pottawatomies and other tribes dwelling in those parts. This
so inflamed the religious zeal of the priests that they incontinently
lost all their interest in the Ohio project, and determined to deflect
their course toward the lake region, despite all the objections which
La Salle could urge. So that, being firmly set in his own designs,
he urged a recent illness as his excuse for parting with them; and
the Sulpitians started northward, and got back to Montreal in June,
1670, with nothing to show (owing to sundry misfortunes and losses,
especially that of their altar-service, without which they could not
convert the heathen) either in the way of discovery, or of missionary
results. La Salle’s movements, after this “parting of the ways,” and
for two years following, are somewhat involved in obscurity. There is
little doubt, however, that he was busily engaged in explorations and
discoveries of some importance.[5] Certain it is, that he discovered
the Ohio, since his own assertion of the fact, in a memoir addressed to
Count Frontenac, in 1677, is confirmed by the testimony of his rival,
Joliet, upon whose two maps of the Mississippi and the great lakes, the
Ohio is depicted with an inscription stating that it had been explored
by La Salle.
The evidence of his having, on this voyage, reached and descended the
Mississippi is not so clear. What militates most strongly against the
assumption that he did so, is the fact, that, though he kept journals
and made maps of this trip, which were, as late as 1765, in possession
of a niece then living in France, at an advanced age; yet, when, after
La Salle’s death, this niece together with an uncle and a nephew of
the explorer petitioned the King for a certain grant in consideration
of the discoveries made by their distinguished relative, they made no
mention of such discovery, as they would most likely have done if they
had known of it.
But the discovery of the Illinois river must, undoubtedly, be credited
to him.
Returning to Canada, from his long wanderings, he found great changes
going on in that country. It was no longer simply a missionary field,
but was fast assuming the form and character of a colony. A royal
Viceroy, or Governor-General, had taken the place of the former
Governor and Intendant; and the controlling interests of the Sulpitian
order were now largely overshadowed by those of the Jesuits. Both Count
Frontenac, the Governor, and the Intendant Talon, were men of similar
character and held like views with La Salle. Like him, they entertained
plans of wider scope than those of any previous Canadian officials. And
when he broached his plan of finding and opening up of the Mississippi,
and the rich southern country through which it ran, and of fortifying
along its course, and especially at its outlet, against the incursions
of the Spanish and English, he enlisted their ready sympathy. Thus,
leaving to the Jesuits, with a dislike of whom they all three seemed
to have been imbued, the frozen Canadian country; and to the English,
that portion of the continent east of the Alleghanies, they proposed to
themselves to conquer the remainder of this vast territory for the King
of France.
The generally accepted French policy of that day, in regard to the
acquisition of new territory in North America, was that the discovery
of a great river gave to all the territory drained by such river an
inchoate (or inceptive) title, which later could be completed by
occupation. It was the attempt to carry out this policy which cost
(and lost) France the Seven Years War, in which the politics and
history of America and Europe became inextricably mixed. And of this
policy, Count Frontenac, the Governor, Talon, the Intendant, and La
Salle, the explorer, now became the leading exponents in Canada. They
were all exceptionally strong men, full of ambitions and untiring
energy, and their scheme combined not only military occupation, but
the reclamation of the Indian tribes and their concentration around
the proposed chain of French forts, together with colonies of French
immigrants of an agricultural and industrial character, the extension
of the buffalo fur-trade, etc.—in fact a most enchanting _mirage_
of future civilization and Christianity in the vast central area of
this continent. In itself, the scheme was too vast to be more than
a sketch of future possibilities; and, moreover, it ignored certain
needs and facts which were most important to its success. For instance,
the French immigration to this country, at that time, was totally
inadequate to furnish settlers enough, and with sufficient rapidity
to ensure the successful colonization of the new territory. Again,
the pacification among themselves, of the numerous and warring Indian
tribes which occupied this western continent, and the securing of their
peaceful and friendly co-operation with the whites, was a work almost
impossible within the limits of a generation or more—and, until it was
done, colonization would be slow, and its difficulties and dangers
deterrent to such emigration. Another inherent point of weakness in
the plan was the difficulty of keeping in touch with and depending
upon a home government thousands of miles away, as well as the
uncertain nature of such dependence in the political, commercial, and
ecclesiastical conflicts which would be apt to arise, and necessarily
would have to be adjusted, more or less, through the medium of Colonial
officials—whose motives would not always be free from the imputation of
self-interest.
The jealousy of the Jesuits, now conscious of their waning power in
the affairs of the new Colonial _régime_, had always been felt by La
Salle—and probably with good reason—to be inimical to his plans; and
the future held out no hope of its being less persistent or bitter.
The personality of the explorer, also, weighed fully as much against,
as for, the success of his undertaking. By nature cold, reserved,
and reticent, he was not a genial man; and possessed little or none
of that magnetism which wins men’s hearts. Absorbed, as he was, with
the details of his great plans, and the responsibilities which they
imposed upon him, he was ever self-contained and self-repressed. Even
the few most faithful and trusted companions of his labors could hardly
be considered as on terms of intimacy with him. And the necessity of
maintaining the strictest discipline among the class of men by whose
following and aid he had to carry on his work—voyageurs, courriers
des bois, traders, canoeists, and Indians—who comprehended him not,
but were simply compelled by the force of his will, certainly did not
tend to establish that community of interest which should have existed
between them. It was, in fact, this lacking quality in an otherwise
magnificent character, which was ever thwarting his plans and which
rendered his brief career of eight years in exploration work an almost
uninterrupted record of disaster—leading—though with one momentary
triumph—to a tragic end.
Omniscience is denied to Man. It belongs only to the Creator, who has
given to men, in its place, the limited faculty of foresight. And, with
such foresight as they had, the three promoters of the fortunes of New
France—Count Frontenac, Talon, and La Salle—formulated their plans, and
in the autumn of 1674 the latter sailed for France, to obtain the royal
sanction and the moneyed help which were needed. Whatever the strength
or the weaknesses of their project, money was their _sine qua non_.
_La Salle’s first return to France._ Bearing strong letters of
recommendation from Frontenac to the French Minister of State,
Colbert,[6] he met with a cordial reception at home. In response to
his petitions to the King, he was, in consideration of his services
as an explorer, raised to the ranks of the untitled nobility[7] and
was granted the seigniory of the new post on Lake Ontario, which, in
honor to his patron, was named Fort Frontenac. He was also invested
with the command of the same, together with that of the settlement
around it, subject to the authority of his friend the Governor-General.
On his part he undertook to repay to the King the cost of the fort,
to maintain it, at his own charge, with a garrison equal to that of
Montreal, besides laborers; to form a French colony around it, as well
as one of domesticated Indians near by; to build a church and support
one or more Récollet friars.
He had but little trouble, now that he was in the sunshine of royal
favor, in obtaining from his gratified family and friends the needed
funds; and on his return to Canada (1675), proceeded to comply with
the terms of his seigniorial grant. Within two years, the original
wooden fort was replaced by a much larger one of cut stone, on the
land side, and on the outer side by palisades, and its walls manned by
nine small cannon. On the inside it contained barracks, a guard-house,
officers’ quarters, a forge, a well, a mill, and a bakery—all of
substantial build. Its garrison consisted of two officers, a surgeon,
and ten or twelve soldiers, with a large number of masons, laborers,
and canoe-men. Near the two villages which stretched along the shore
south of the fort (one of French farm-tenants, the other of friendly
Iroquois) were the chapel and residence of two Récollet friars. Over
a hundred (French) acres of cleared and cultivated land, and cattle,
fowl, and swine, brought from Montreal, gave ample evidence of
permanent occupation; and four vessels for lake and river navigation,
as well as a fleet of canoes, hinted strongly at the seignior’s
predilection for travel and exploration. Feudal lord of the entire
region around him (for the nearest settlement was a week’s journey
distant), commander of a garrison paid by himself, founder and patron
of a church, he was now literally “master of all which he surveyed;”
and had he been content so to remain, would soon have become a
merchant-prince, for, ere long, as estimated by a friend, he was
“making more than 25,000 livres a year.”
His cup of success, however, was not without its infusion of
bitterness. He found himself in a very maelstrom of opposition and
detraction, arising from the jealousy of those interested in the
Montreal fur-trade, (especially among the Jesuits), who saw in the
royal favors conferred on La Salle the ultimate downfall of their own
interests. In this violent imbroglio of commercial, political and
priestly rivalry, envy, malice, contemptible, and persistent espionage,
and even poison, played their respective parts.
Meanwhile, the free life of Nature was wooing his spirit, the fever
of exploration was still strong upon him; and he valued the position
he had attained only as a stepping-stone to the realization of his
life-long dream.
_La Salle’s second return visit to France._ So, in the autumn of 1677,
leaving his fort and seigniory in charge of a trusted lieutenant, La
Forest, who was also one of his partners in the proposed fur-trade,
La Salle sailed again for France. There, lodged modestly in a rather
obscure quarter of Paris, he renewed the friendships and associations
which he had formed during his previous visit; and added to them by
making new and valuable friends. Among these were the Marquis de
Seignelay, the Prince de Conti, La Motte de Sussière, and last but
not least, Henri de Tonti, thenceforth his foremost companion in his
Western labors.[8] La Salle also received from the King a royal patent
authorizing him to explore and occupy the Mississippi country, “through
which, to all appearances, a way may be found to Mexico.” This patent,
confirmatory of that granted him in 1675, imposed upon him the erection
and maintenance of such forts as he might deem necessary, and gave him
a monopoly for five years of the trade in buffalo hides. The whole
expense was to be borne (as was the custom of the monarchs of that day,
in granting lands which they did not own, and the privileges which such
grants carried with them) by the grantee. The fur-trade of the Montreal
colony was not to be interfered with; nor did the patent include any
provision or encouragement of the industrial or colonization scheme
which had fully taken possession of La Salle’s mind. Content, however,
with what he could get in the way of kingly favor—on the principle,
perhaps, that “half a loaf is better than no loaf,” the adventurer
turned his attention to securing the needed funds, and soon, by loans
from friends and family, and by mortgages upon his Fort Frontenac
property, had raised sufficient to carry out his purpose.
On the 14th July, 1678, Le Sieur La Salle, as he must thenceforth be
called, with Tonti, La Motte, and 30 men, mostly ship carpenters, with
a cargo of iron, cordage, anchors, etc., sufficient for the equipment
of two vessels, set sail for Quebec, where they arrived after a two
months’ voyage. Here they met with Father Hennepin, a Récollet friar,
who had come to Canada three years before, and whose name from this
point is prominently connected with American Western exploration.[9]
THE SECOND VOYAGE OF EXPLORATION (1678–1679) was virtually commenced,
under the orders of La Salle (who was with Tonti) detained at Quebec
by his own affairs, and the difficulties arising from the machinations
of his enemies,[10] by La Motte and Hennepin. They set sail, from Fort
Frontenac, November 18th, 1678, in a small vessel of ten tons; but it
was not until the 6th of December that they reached the mouth of the
Niagara river and saw the grand cataract of which Hennepin’s pencil has
preserved the first known picture and description. Two leagues above
the mouth of the Niagara river La Motte began the erection of a fort,
where he was joined later by La Salle and Tonti. Here, under almost
unsurmountable obstacles, due to the excessive cold, and hunger, as
well as jealousies among the men, and the distrust of the Indians, a
ship-yard was improvised, and a vessel of about 45 tons was builded and
equipped with five small cannon. She was named the _Griffin_, in honor
of the Governor-General, and her prow was ornamented with a grotesque
figure of that somewhat apocryphal animal, in compliment to his family
arms.[11]
The building of this fort and of the _Griffin_ was a masterstroke of La
Salle’s, for Niagara was the key to the four great upper lakes (Erie,
Huron, Superior, and Michigan), and by its position would control the
fur-trade of the whole northern country. In time of peace it would
intercept the trade between the Iroquois and the Dutch and English at
Albany; in time of war it would be a menace to both.
Any forward movement, however, was delayed from February until August,
1679, by the absence of La Salle, who had been obliged to return, with
Tonti, to Fort Frontenac for needed supplies, and to attend to some of
his private affairs. For his creditors, excited by false reports of his
insolvency, had seized upon all his available property, outside of his
seigniory.
Despite these embarrassments, however, he pushed forward his
enterprise, and by the 7th of August the _Griffin_ was sailing upon
the waters of Lake Erie, never before ploughed by the keel of a white
man’s ship. Passing through the Straits of Detroit and into Lake
Huron, they stayed not their course, although nearly wrecked by a
fierce gale, until, early in September, they dropped anchor at the
entrance of Green Bay, within the waters of Lake Michigan. Here, at
Michilimackinac, was a Jesuit mission and centre of Indian trade, where
they were received with show of welcome by the holy fathers, and with
evident distrust by their Indian _protegés_. Here La Salle found that
a party of his men whom he had sent on in advance to the Illinois, to
trade for him and make preparations for his coming, had been tampered
with, had appropriated the goods in their charge to their own uses,
and that many of them were missing. Six of these rascals were found at
Michilimackinac, and with two found by Tonti at the Sault Ste. Marie,
were captured with their plunder and the remainder had taken to the
woods. It had been La Salle’s intention to leave his party at this
point to proceed on their way to the Illinois, under Tonti, while he
himself should return to Canada, to look after and protect his own
concerns there. But Tonti was just then absent, and there was great
need of his remaining with his men, lest they should again be enticed
away from their duty. Besides, he was desirous to frustrate a plan of
his enemies, which he thought he had discovered, to set the Iroquois
“by the ears” with the Illinois, with a view to draw him into the war,
and thus interrupt his plans.
Finally sailing westward into Lake Michigan he found near Green
Bay[12] several faithful men of the advance party whom he had sent
out, who had collected there and on the way thither, a considerable
store of furs; which he determined to send back to Niagara, on the
_Griffin_, to satisfy his exacting creditors, with orders to return
to the head of Lake Michigan as soon as possible.[13] She set sail on
this return voyage on the 18th of September, in the face of a storm,
which prevailed for several days. In the same storm, also, La Salle
and the fourteen men left to him, by numerous desertions _en route_,
resumed their journey, in four canoes, heavily laden with a forge,
tools, merchandise, and arms. It was no pleasure trip; twice they
were swamped, and nearly lost the contents of their canoes, as well
as their lives: drenched, cold, and without provisions, they suffered
much, and distrust of the Indians with whom they met on shore increased
their sufferings. But steadily he pushed on along the western coast of
Lake Michigan, and circled around its southern end until he reached the
mouth of the St. Joseph, called by him the Miami. Here he had expected
to meet Tonti with twenty men, coming along the eastern shore of the
lake from Michilimackinac. But no Tonti was there. It was the 1st of
November, the streams were freezing over, and their provisions were
failing. Unless they could reach the villages of the Illinois before
the Indians left for their winter hunt, starvation might be their
fate. The dissatisfaction of his men presaged mutiny and desertion,
but La Salle firmly refused to remove from the place where they were,
and affirmed his intention, if they should desert, to remain with his
Mohegan hunter and the three friars of his party until the arrival of
Tonti. Then, the better to occupy their thoughts, he set them to work
on the building of a timber fort. Twenty days later, and when this work
was well under way, Tonti appeared, but with only half of his men.
Provisions having failed, he had left the remainder thirty leagues
behind, to get their living as best they might, by hunting. But La
Salle sent him back, with two men, to find and bring them forward. On
this return trip, their canoe was swamped in a violent gale, and guns,
baggage, and provisions were lost and they returned to the fort on the
Miami, subsisting on acorns by the way. The balance of Tonti’s party,
except a couple of deserters, came into camp a few days after.
But the _Griffin_ came not back to the waiting party. Nor was her fate
ever known; whether she was lost by stress of storm, by Indian attack,
or (as La Salle always thought) by treachery of her pilot. Longer
delay, however, was impossible: and so, after sending back two of his
men to Michilimackinac, and to pilot her, if she still existed, to
the Miami fort, his party, numbering 33 in all, was re-embarked, 3rd
December, 1679, on the St. Joseph, keeping a sharp lookout along the
right-hand shore for the path or portage leading to the headwaters of
the Illinois river. This, owing to the absence of the Mohegan hunter,
they missed, and La Salle went on shore to look it up, lost his way,
and passed a dismal night in a thick snowstorm. Meantime Tonti and
Hennepin, growing uneasy, also landed, ordered guns to be fired, and
sent out men to find their lost commander, if possible. He was found
near morning, and, with the aid of the Mohegan, who had returned, the
portage was also found and La Salle, excessively fatigued, turned in,
with Hennepin, for a little rest in a wigwam which was covered with
mats made of reeds. During the night the cold forced them to kindle a
fire, from which the mats caught ablaze, so that before daybreak they
were turned out into the cold again, having barely escaped being burned
with their shelter. In the morning, shouldering their canoes, they
started across the portage to the headwaters of the Illinois—distant
some five miles. As the party filed along on their way, a disgruntled
man, who walked behind La Salle, raised his gun to shoot him in the
back, but was prevented by a companion. Reaching the Kankakee, one of
the sources of the Illinois, they floated their canoes on its thin
and sluggish stream; and passing through wide areas of swamps, and
prairies, glided along at the base of “Starved Rock” near the great
town of the Illinois, and on New Year’s Day, 1680, reached the head of
the Illinois river, where they landed, and Father Hennepin celebrated
the Mass. Four days later they had reached the long expansion—the river
now called Peoria Lake, and near its southern end they came upon a
large camp of Indians, who received them at first with surprise and
enmity. But La Salle and his men leaped ashore, and by his bravery and
knowledge of Indian character quelled their fears, so that Frenchmen
and Indians were soon seated together at a feast such as the former
had not for some time seen. The calumet of peace was exchanged and La
Salle explained to his hosts his object and his wish for peace, so that
they all retired to sleep in amity. In the morning, however, La Salle
found that he was regarded with distrust, and soon learned that Indian
emissaries from another tribe had been tampering, over-night, with his
hosts—who now appeared quite indisposed to friendship. He saw, in this
sudden change of front, the hand of the Jesuits, and when, at a second
feast, tendered by one of the chiefs, he was urged to desist from
his plan of descending the Mississippi, by arguments of the number,
valor, and ferocity of the tribes inhabiting its valley, the terrors
of alligators, serpents, and unnatural monsters, and the fearful
nature of the river itself, he was fully confirmed in his opinion. In
a strong, but temperate address, La Salle declared his disbelief in
those marvelous tales, and affirmed that they were lies, inspired by
French jealousy of his project, and sent them through Iroquois sources.
A few days later, a band of Mississippi Indians visited the camp, from
whom he learned the utter falsity of these stories and also had the
assurance that the tribes along that river would receive the white men
with favor. On this he took the first opportunity, at another feast, of
confronting the Illinois chiefs with so full a description of the river
(which he said had been communicated to him by “the Great Spirit”) its
course and its final meeting with the sea, that his savage hearers
“clapped their hands to their mouths,” in astonishment, and conceiving
him to be a sorcerer, confessed that what they had said was false and
inspired only by their desire to retain him amongst them.
Meanwhile, he had determined to fortify himself for the winter (it
was now the middle of January) in a position where he could face an
Illinois outbreak, or an Iroquois invasion, better than he could do in
the Indian camp where he was then a guest. Taking advantage of a thaw,
which temporarily reopened the frozen river, he with Hennepin, in a
canoe, sought and soon found the site he had chosen. on a low hill,
or knoll, half a league from the camp and about 200 yards from the
southern bank. In front of this knoll was a marsh, overflowed at high
tide, and on either side a ravine. A ditch was dug behind this knoll,
connecting these two ravines, and thus isolating it from the mainland.
On each side of the hill, which was nearly square, an embankment was
thrown up and its sloping sides were guarded by _chevaux-de-frise_,
and a 25-foot palisade surrounded the whole. The buildings within this
area were of musket-proof timber. This fort, the first civilized act of
occupation in the present State of Illinois, he named Fort Crèvecœur.
“La Salle’s men,” says Parkman, “were for the most part raw hands,
knowing nothing of the wilderness, and easily alarmed at its dangers,
* * * it was to the last degree difficult to hold men to their duty.
Once fairly in the wilderness, completely freed from the sharp
restraints of authority in which they had passed their lives, a spirit
of lawlessness broke out among them with a violence proportioned to the
pressure which had hitherto suppressed it. Discipline had no resources
and no guarantee; while these outlaws of the forest, the _courriers des
bois_, were always before their eyes, a standing example of unbridled
license.” Desertions and disaffections among his followers were, at
this time, a heavy burden to La Salle; and he even barely escaped from
another attempt to poison him. Finally, however, having apparently
placated the Indians of the vicinity, and checked, as he hoped, the
disposition to mutiny and desertion among his men, which had been a
constant menace to his plans,[14] he built, in an incredibly short
time, a vessel of 40 tons’ burden with which to descend the river to
the Mississippi. He also sent Hennepin and two others in a canoe to
explore the Illinois to its junction with the larger river. He himself,
having now given up all hopes of the _Griffin_, began a return to
Canada, for needed supplies, in canoes, with four Frenchmen and an
Indian hunter, leaving the faithful Tonti, with a dozen or so men to
hold the fort and guard the half-finished ship. It was a desperate
journey, but he felt that unless the articles lost in the _Griffin_
were replaced without delay, the expedition would be retarded for a
full year, and probably utterly foiled by the additional expense which
would be incurred for the support of his men. On the way he met the
two men whom he had sent back to Michilimackinac in search of the
_Griffin_, but they brought him no tidings of her fate, and ordering
them to join Tonti at Fort Crèvecœur, he pressed firmly on. He also
took occasion to examine the capabilities of the “Starved Rock” upon
the Illinois, and sent back word to Tonti to make it a stronghold of
defense in case of necessity. His journey occupied sixty-five days
of incessant toil, danger, and accidents that rendered it “the most
adventurous one ever made by a Frenchman in America;” he himself was
the only one of the party who did not break down, either from fatigue
or illness, and when Lake Erie was reached, it was his arm alone which
ferried their canoe over to the blockhouse at Niagara. They reached
Fort Frontenac on the 6th of May, and he pushed on directly to Montreal.
His sudden reappearance there caused the greatest astonishment; and
he was met on every hand with news of disaster. Both Man and Nature
seemed in arms against him; his agents had plundered him, creditors
had seized upon his property, a vessel from France, laden with stores
valued at over 10,000 crowns, had been lost at the mouth of the St.
Lawrence, and of twenty men hired in Europe, some had been detained by
the Intendant Duchesneau, and all but four of the remainder had been
told that he was dead, and had returned home. Yet, undaunted by these
staggering blows of Fortune, he went vigorously to work; and, within
a week, succeeded in gaining the supplies he so much needed for the
forlorn band he had left behind him on the Illinois. Finally, on the
very eve of his embarkation from Fort Frontenac, a letter from Tonti
informed him that most of the men left at Fort Crèvecœur had deserted,
plundered the fort, and destroyed all the arms, goods, etc., which they
could not carry away with them; and this was followed by a letter from
two friendly lake traders which told him that the deserters had also
destroyed his fort at St. Joseph, seizing a quantity of furs belonging
to him at Michilimackinac,[15] and plundered the magazine at Niagara;
and that, largely reinforced by others, they were seeking him along
the northern shore of Lake Ontario, with the design of killing him, if
they met, in order to escape punishment for their misdeeds. La Salle’s
courage rose promptly to the occasion. Choosing nine of his trustiest
men, he started out, in canoes, to face them, met and captured four of
them in one canoe and killed two and captured three others in another
canoe. His prisoners he placed in custody at Fort Frontenac, to await
the coming of Governor-General Frontenac; and immediately put out on
his return to the Illinois, and the relief of his gallant lieutenant
Tonti. He took with him a new lieutenant, one La Forest, a surgeon,
ship-carpenter, joiners, masons, soldiers, voyageurs and laborers, 25
men in all, with full outfits of all needed tools for the building of
the vessel and a new fort. By a shorter route than that of the previous
year, they arrived at Michilimackinac, pushed on with 12 men to the
ruined fort at St. Joseph, where he left the heavy stores, under a
small guard, to await the arrival of La Forest. His anxiety to reach
Tonti, of whom, thus far, he had heard nothing, was greatly increased
by a rumor of an impending invasion of the Illinois country, by the
Iroquois, which foreboded a new disaster to his enterprise. And as the
party passed down the Illinois, it met with evidences everywhere that
the two savage tribes had indeed met in combat, to the utter rout of
the Illinois; but their anxiety in regard to Tonti was not relieved by
any word or sign. The vessel, however, which he had left unfinished
at Fort Crèvecœur was still entire, and but slightly damaged. Once
more taking to their canoes, they descended the river (250 miles) to
its junction with the Mississippi, which they first saw about the 7th
of December, 1681.[16] There was now nothing left for him, except to
retrace his way up the Illinois to relieve the men whom he had left at
the fort on the St. Joseph.[17] And, though to his surprise he learned
no tidings of Tonti, he found that his men under La Forest’s orders
had restored the fort, cleared a place for planting, and prepared the
timber and plank for a new vessel.
Tonti, meanwhile, finding himself caught in the very midst of the
terrible war between the Iroquois and the Illinois—from which he
extricated himself and his party only by the supreme exercise of his
wisdom and courage, against odds almost unsurmountable, had reached
Lake Michigan, near Chicago, and following its borders northward had
reached Green Bay, in a starved and half-frozen condition, from which
they were relieved by a friendly tribe of Pottawatomies. In March, La
Salle heard of the safety of Tonti, and in May, to their great joy,
these two brave men were reunited.[18]
La Salle passed the winter at his fort on the Miami, on the St.
Joseph, by the border of Lake Michigan, planning how to meet the old
disappointments and difficulties which still surrounded him, as well
as the new contingencies which he foresaw would soon arise. Of these
latter, the most formidable was the enmity of the ferocious Iroquois
nation, which had already terrorized the Illinois, and shown a
disposition to interfere with his own plans. To this end, he conceived
the idea of a confederation of the Illinois with some of the Western
tribes, and some from the New England, and Atlantic borders of the
East, which, under his leadership and the protection of France, would
be a mutual defense against the incursions of the Iroquois. This bold
project he speedily carried into effect, by his tact, personal address,
and superb oratory—for he was a natural-born diplomat, especially in
all his dealings with Indians. This done he returned to Canada, to
compose his own disturbed affairs, collect his scattered resources,
and placate his creditors. By the beginning of autumn he was again on
his way to complete the task—already twice defeated—of discovering the
mouth of the Mississippi. For, though he had satisfied himself that it
really existed, he had still to determine its course, and navigability,
and the nature of its exit into the ocean[19] as well as to acquaint
himself with its resources, and its savage inhabitants. When he reached
his fort at the Miami in October, he found there some of his new Indian
allies from the East, and with 18 of them and 23 of his own Frenchmen,
started for the headwaters of the Illinois—dragging their canoes and
baggage on sledges, as the streams were frozen. They reached the
Mississippi on the 6th of February, launched their little fleet of
canoes, and—delayed a few days by floating ice—resumed their course,
passing successively the mouths of the Missouri, the Ohio, and the
Arkansas rivers, and making visits to many tribes along their course,
by whom they were well received. As they reached the end of their
journey, on the 6th of April, sixty-two days from the time of entering
the river, they saw that the river divided into three broad channels,
or mouths, of which La Salle followed the western one, Dautray the
eastern, and Tonti the middle one.
After La Salle had located, in his canoe, the nearby borders of the
great sea, or gulf (of Mexico) which spread before them, the three
parties reassembled (April 9th, 1682) at a spot where a column was
erected and near it a plate was buried bearing the arms inscribed
with the words of France, and “_Louis Le Grande, Roy de France et de
Navarre, Règne, Le Neuvième, Avril, 1682_.” Then while the _Te Deum_,
the _Exaudéat_ and the _Domine Salvum fac Regem_ were chanted, the
volleys of musketry discharged by the men under arms, with cries of
“Vive le Roi;” a cross was planted beside the column and Le Sieur
de Salle, sword in hand, proclaimed the new-found territory as
_Louisiana_, and Louis XIV as its King and rightful Lord.
The vast domain thus secured, after the manner of those times, to the
French Crown, extended from the Alleghanies to the Rocky Mountains, and
from the Rio Grande and the Gulf of Mexico to the farthest springs of
the Missouri; but the name—Louisiana—which he gave it is now confined
to a single commonwealth in the great sisterhood of states forming the
United States of America.
Now, in the culmination of his triumph he was seized by an illness so
severe as to threaten his life; and was unable to reach Fort Miami,
even by slow stages, before August, and to rejoin Tonti, whom he had
dispatched with news of his success to Canada. It seems to have been
about this time that he began to abandon the difficult access which he
had hitherto found, through Canada, with all its dangers and enemies,
both whites and Indians; and to reach the region of his hopes and
toils more directly by way of the Gulf of Mexico and the mouth of the
Mississippi. His plans of descending that river by means of a vessel
had twice been thwarted by disasters which proved its futility; and to
attempt his purpose with canoes would be fraught with much difficulty
and an enormous expense. He purposed now, in view of all his past
experiences, to form on the banks of the Illinois a colony of French
and Indians, as a place of storage of the furs which could be gathered
by the various Western tribes; and as a defense against the Iroquois,
who were alike inimical to the French and their Illinois allies. And
rumors of an impending renewal of attack upon these allies urged him
to greater speed; so he and Tonti repaired at once to “Starved Rock,”
before mentioned.[20] This was a cliff, rising to a height of 125 feet,
on the southern bank of the Illinois, presenting on three sides a sheer
perpendicular wall, and on its other side a deep ravine; and it was
accessible only by a difficult climb from behind. Its area was about an
acre. This rock, in December, 1662, they cleared of the forest which
crowned it, dragged timber up the ragged pathway, built storehouses and
dwellings, and surrounded the summit with palisades. In this eyrie,
which he christened Fort St. Louis of the Illinois, the winter was
passed by La Salle’s company, and by tactful management he secured the
friendship of the neighboring tribes.[21]
Around and under the protection of this fortification was soon gathered
a motley gathering of the Illinois, and fragments of other tribes, all
looking to him as their feudal lord; and to these followers, by virtue
of his seigniorial rights, he began to grant parcels of land, and soon
had the _nucleus_ of a colony of some 20,000 souls, numbering about
4,000 warriors.
But, while thus engaged in the wilderness, matters in Canada were
looming up adversely to his interests. His friend and patron, Count
Frontenac, had been recalled to France, and the man who succeeded
him as Governor-General, one de La Barre, was prejudiced against the
explorer and constantly misrepresenting him to the home government
in France. Furthermore, emboldened by the tone of the King’s letter,
who had been led to condemn La Salle’s doings and plans, La Barre,
with other associates, seized Fort Frontenac (which was La Salle’s
property), despite the remonstrances of the creditors and mortgagees;
sold his stores for their own benefit, and turned his cattle to
pasture on the growing crops. The position of La Salle became
intolerable, cut off from his supplies, for which he entreated Governor
La Barre in vain, threatened with an onslaught of the Iroquois, and
unable to afford his own Indian allies the help which he had promised
them, he had no other resource than to leave his wilderness colony in
faithful Tonti’s care, and cross the ocean again to face his enemies
before the Court and King.
_La Salle’s third return visit to France._ So, early in the autumn of
1683, he again turned his face homeward. Quite to his surprise, as
we may well imagine, La Salle found that the time of his return was
fortuitous. His old friends rallied around him; his enemies seemed, for
the moment, to have lost their influence against him. Best of all, both
the King and his Ministers were in better humor with him than, from
the tone of recent home correspondence, he had reason to expect. The
country was now at war with Spain, and the trend of official opinion
chimed in very happily with the proposals which he had to offer for the
consideration of King and Ministry.