Great Epochs in American History, Volume I. by Various

V >> Various >> Great Epochs in American History, Volume I.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

The eve of his death, which was a Friday, he told them, all radiant
with joy, that it would take place on the morrow. During the whole day
he conversed with them about the manner of his burial, the way in
which he should be laid out, the place to be selected for his
interment; he told them how to arrange his hands, feet, and face, and
directed them to raise a cross over his grave. He even went so far as
to enjoin them, only three hours before he expired, to take his
chapel-bell, as soon as he was dead, and ring it while they carried
him to the grave. Of all this he spoke so calmly and collectedly that
you would have thought that he spoke of the death and burial of
another, and not of his own.

Thus did he speak with them as they sailed along the lake, till,
perceiving the mouth of a river with an eminence on the bank which he
thought suited for his burial, he told them that it was the place of
his last repose. They wished, however, to pass on, as the weather
permitted it and the day was not far advanced; but God raised a
contrary wind which obliged them to return and enter the river pointed
out by Father Marquette. They then carried him ashore, kindled a
little fire, and raised for him a wretched bark cabin, where they laid
him as little uncomfortably as they could; but they were so overcome
by sadness that, as they afterward said, they did not know what they
were doing.

The father being thus stretched on the shore, like Saint Francis
Xavier, as he had always so ardently desired, and left alone amid
those forests,--for his companions were engaged in unloading,--he had
leisure to repeat all the acts in which he had been employed during
the preceding days....

He had prayed his companions to remind him, when they saw him about to
expire, to pronounce frequently the names of Jesus and Mary. When he
could not do it himself, they did it for him; and, when they thought
him about to pass, one cried aloud, Jesus Maria, which he several
times repeated distinctly, and then, as if at those sacred names
something had appeared to him, he suddenly raised his eyes above his
crucifix, fixing them apparently on some object which he seemed to
regard with pleasure, and thus with a countenance all radiant with
smiles, he expired without a struggle, as gently as if he had sunk
into a quiet sleep.

His two poor companions, after shedding many tears over his body, and
having laid it out as he had directed, carried it devoutly to the
grave, ringing the bell according to his injunction, and raised a
large cross near it to serve as a mark for passers-by.

[1] From Dablon's "Relation." Dablon was the Superior General of
the Jesuit Missions in America.

DISCOVERY OF NIAGARA FALLS

(1678)

BY FATHER LOUIS HENNEPIN[1]

Betwixt the Lake Ontario and Erie, there is a vast and prodigious
cadence of water which falls down after a surprizing and astonishing
manner, insomuch that the universe does not afford its parallel. 'Tis
true, Italy and Suedeland boast of some such things; but we may well
say they are but sorry patterns, when compared to this of which we now
speak. At the foot of this horrible precipice, we meet with the river
Niagara, which is not above half a quarter of a league broad, but is
wonderfully deep in some places. It is so rapid above this descent,
that it violently hurries down the wild beasts while endeavoring to
pass it to feed on the other side, they not being able to withstand
the force of its current, which inevitably casts them down headlong
above six hundred foot.

This wonderful downfall is compounded of two great cross-streams of
water, and two falls, with an isle sloping along the middle of it. The
waters which fall from this vast height, do foam and boil after the
most hideous manner imaginable, making an outrageous noise, more
terrible than that of thunder; for when the wind blows from off the
south, their dismal roaring may be heard above fifteen leagues off.

The river Niagara having thrown itself down this incredible precipice,
continues its impetuous course for two leagues together, to the great
rock above mentioned, with an inexpressible rapidity: But having
passed that, its impetuosity relents, gliding along more gently for
two leagues, till it arrives at the Lake Ontario, or Frontenac.

Any bark or greater vessel may pass from the fort to the foot of this
huge rock above mentioned. This rock lies to the westward, and is cut
off from the land by the river Niagara, about two leagues farther down
than the great fall; for which two leagues the people are obliged to
carry their goods over-land; but the way is very good, and the trees
are but few, and they chiefly firs and oaks.

From the great fall unto this rock, which is to the west of the river,
the two brinks of it are so prodigious high, that it would make one
tremble to look steadily upon the water, rolling along with a rapidity
not to be imagined. Were it not for this vast cataract, which
interrupts navigation, they might sail with barks or greater vessels,
above four hundred and fifty leagues further, cross the Lake of
Hurons, and up to the farther end of the Lake Illinois (Michigan);
which two lakes we may well say are little seas of fresh water.

[1] Louis Hennepin, born in Belgium in 1640, was a friar of the
Recollect order, an offshoot of the Franciscans. Mr. Thwaites, who
has edited Hennepin's "New Discovery of a Vast Country," from
which the account of Niagara Falls here given is taken, describes
him as "an uneasy soul, uncontent to remain cloistered and
fretting to engage in travel and wild adventure." After the
pioneer voyage down the Mississippi, made by Joliet and Marquette,
had become known in Europe, it intensified an already active
spirit of discovery. In the summer of 1678 Hennepin joined La
Salle and Laval Montmorency in the famous expedition of La Salle
undertaken from Quebec to explore the interior, with a view to
uniting Canada with the Gulf of Mexico by a chain of forts. On
arrival in Quebec Father Hennepin was sent forward by La Salle to
Fort Frontenac, on Lake Ontario. Thence, with La Monte and sixteen
men, he went on to Niagara in order to smooth the way with the
Indians for La Salle's later coming. It was at this time that
Hennepin first saw Niagara Falls. White men had probably seen the
cataract before, but he is the first who wrote a description of it
that has come down to us. Hennepin's character has been severely
criticized. He was much given to exaggeration, and he magnified
his own importance. Mr. Thwaites describes him as "hardy, brave
and enterprising," but "lacking in spiritual qualities."

Hennepin's estimate of the height of the falls (about 600 feet)
may be cited as an example of his faculty in exaggeration. The
actual height is 167 feet. The descent from Lake Erie to Ontario,
including that of the rapids above and below the falls, is only
330 feet.

LA SALLE'S VOYAGE TO THE MOUTH OF THE MISSISSIPPI

(1682)

BY FRANCIS PARKMAN[1]

La Salle chose eighteen of his Indian allies, whom he added to the
twenty-three Frenchmen who remained with him, some of the rest having
deserted, and others lagged behind. The Indians insisted on taking
their squaws with them. These were ten in number, besides three
children; and thus the expedition included fifty-four persons, of whom
some were useless, and others a burden.

On the 21st of December, Tonty and Membre set out from Fort Miami with
some of the party in six canoes, and crossed to the little river
Chicago. La Salle, with the rest of the men, joined them a few days
later. It was the dead of winter, and the streams were frozen. They
made sledges, placed on them the canoes, the baggage, and a disabled
Frenchman; crossed from the Chicago to the northern branch of the
Illinois, and filed in a long procession down its frozen course. They
reached the site of the great Illinois village, found it tenantless,
and continued their journey, still dragging their canoes, till at
length they reached open water below Lake Peoria.

La Salle had abandoned for a time his original plan of building a
vessel for the navigation of the Mississippi. Bitter experience[2] had
taught him the difficulty of the attempt, and he resolved to trust to
his canoes alone. They embarked again, floating prosperously down
between the leafless forests that flanked the tranquil river; till, on
the sixth of February, they issued upon the majestic bosom of the
Mississippi. Here, for the time, their progress was stopt; for the
river was full of floating ice. La Salle's Indians, too, had lagged
behind; but, within a week, all had arrived, the navigation was once
more free, and they resumed their course. Toward evening, they saw on
their right the mouth of a great river; and the clear current was
invaded by the headlong torrent of the Missouri, opaque with mud. They
built their camp-fires in the neighboring forests; and at daylight,
embarking anew on the dark and mighty stream, drifted swiftly down
toward unknown destinies. They passed a deserted town of the Tamaroas;
saw, three days after, the mouth of the Ohio; and, gliding by the
wastes of bordering swamp, landed on the twenty-fourth of February
near the Third Chickasaw Bluffs. They encamped, and the hunters went
out for game. All returned, excepting Pierre Prudhomme; and, as the
others had seen fresh tracks of Indians, La Salle feared that he was
killed. While some of his followers built a small stockade fort on a
high bluff by the river, others ranged the woods in pursuit of the
missing hunter. After six days of ceaseless and fruitless search, they
met two Chickasaw Indians in the forest; and, through them, La Salle
sent presents and peace-messages to that warlike people, whose
villages were a few days' journey distant. Several days later,
Prudhomme was found, and brought in to the camp, half-dead. He had
lost his way while hunting; and, to console him for his woes, La Salle
christened the newly-built fort with his name, and left him, with a
few others, in charge of it.

Again they embarked; and, with every stage of their adventurous
progress, the mystery of this vast New World was more and more
unveiled. More and more they entered the realms of spring. The hazy
sunlight, the warm and drowsy air, the tender foliage, the opening
flowers, betokened the reviving life of Nature. For several days more
they followed the writhings of the great river, on its tortuous course
through wastes of swamp and canebrake, till on the thirteenth of March
they found themselves wrapt in a thick fog. Neither shore was visible;
but they heard on the right the booming of an Indian drum and the
shrill outcries of the war-dance. La Salle at once crossed to the
opposite side, where, in less than an hour, his men threw up a rude
fort of felled trees. Meanwhile, the fog cleared; and, from the
farther bank, the astonished Indians saw the strange visitors at their
work. Some of the French advanced to the edge of the water, and
beckoned them to come over. Several of them approached, in a wooden
canoe, to within the distance of a gun-shot. La Salle displayed the
calumet, and sent a Frenchman to meet them. He was well received; and,
the friendly mood of the Indians being now apparent, the whole party
crossed the river.

On landing, they found themselves at a town of the Kappa band of the
Arkansas, a people dwelling near the mouth of the river which bears
their name. "The whole village," writes Membre to his superior, "came
down to the shore to meet us, except the women, who had run off. I
cannot tell you the civility and kindness we received from these
barbarians, who brought us poles to make huts, supplied us with
firewood during the three days we were among them, and took turns in
feasting us. We did not lose the value of a pin while we were among
them." ...

After touching at several other towns of this people, the voyagers
resumed their course, guided by two of the Arkansas; passed the sites,
since become historic, of Vicksburg and Grand Gulf; and, about three
hundred miles below the Arkansas, stopt by the edge of a swamp on the
western side of the river. Here, as their two guides told them, was
the path to the great town of the Taensas. Tonty and Membre were sent
to visit it. They and their men shouldered their birch canoe through
the swamp, and launched it on a lake which had once formed a portion
of the channel of the river.

In two hours they reached the town; and Tonty gazed at it with
astonishment. He had seen nothing like it in America: large square
dwellings, built of sun-baked mud mixed with straw, arched over with a
dome-shaped roof of canes, and placed in regular order around an open
area. Two of them were larger and better than the rest. One was the
lodge of the chief; the other was the temple, or house of the sun.
They entered the former, and found a single room, forty feet square,
where, in the dim light,--for there was no opening but the door,--the
chief sat awaiting them on a sort of bedstead, three of his wives at
his side, while sixty old men, wrapt in white cloaks woven of
mulberry-bark, formed his divan. When he spoke, his wives howled to do
him honor; and the assembled councilors listened with the reverence
due to a potentate for whom, at his death, a hundred victims were to
be sacrificed. He received the visitors graciously, and joyfully
accepted the gifts which Tonty laid before him. This interview over,
the Frenchmen repaired to the temple, wherein were kept the bones of
the departed chiefs. In construction, it was much like the royal
dwelling. Over it were rude wooden figures, representing three eagles
turned toward the east. A strong mud wall surrounded it, planted with
stakes, on which were stuck the skulls of enemies sacrificed to the
Sun; while before the door was a block of wood, on which lay a large
shell surrounded with the braided hair of the victims. The interior
was rude as a barn, dimly lighted from the doorway, and full of smoke.
There was a structure in the middle which Membre thinks was a kind of
altar; and before it burned a perpetual fire, fed with three logs laid
end to end, and watched by two old men devoted to this sacred office.
There was a mysterious recess, too, which the strangers were forbidden
to explore, but which, as Tonty was told, contained the riches of the
nation, consisting of pearls from the Gulf, and trinkets obtained,
probably through other tribes, from the Spaniards and other
Europeans....

On the next morning, as they descended the river, they saw a wooden
canoe full of Indians; and Tonty gave chase. He had nearly overtaken
it, when more than a hundred men appeared suddenly on the shore, with
bows bent to defend their countrymen. La Salle called out to Tonty to
withdraw. He obeyed; and the whole party encamped on the opposite
bank. Tonty offered to cross the river with a peace-pipe, and set out
accordingly with a small party of men. When he landed, the Indians
made signs of friendship by joining their hands,--a proceeding by
which Tonty, having but one hand, was somewhat embarrassed[3]; but he
directed his men to respond in his stead.

The Indians of this village were the Natchez; and their chief was
brother of the great chief, or Sun, of the whole nation. His town was
several leagues distant, near the site of the city of Natchez; and
thither the French repaired to visit him. They saw what they had
already seen among the Taensas,--a religious and political despotism,
a privileged caste descended from the sun, a temple, and a sacred
fire. La Salle planted a large cross, with the arms of France
attached, in the midst of the town; while the inhabitants looked on
with a satisfaction which they would hardly have displayed, had they
understood the meaning of the act....

And now they neared their journey's end. On the sixth of April, the
river divided itself into three broad channels. La Salle followed that
of the west, and D'Autray that of the east; while Tonty took the
middle passage. As he drifted down the turbid current, between the low
and marshy shores, the brackish water changed to brine, and the breeze
grew fresh with the salt breath of the sea. Then the broad bosom of
the great Gulf opened on his sight, tossing its restless billows,
limitless, voiceless, lonely as when born of chaos, without a sail,
without a sign of life.

La Salle, in a canoe, coasted the marshy borders of the sea; and then
the reunited parties assembled on a spot of dry ground, a short
distance above the mouth of the river. Here a column was made ready,
bearing the arms of France, and inscribed with the words,--"LOUIS LE
GRAND, ROY DE FRANCE ET DE NAVARRE, REGNE; LE NEUVIEME 1682." ...

On that day, the realm of France received on parchment a stupendous
accession. The fertile plains of Texas; the vast basin of the
Mississippi, from its frozen northern springs to the sultry borders of
the Gulf; from the woody ridges of the Alleghanies to the bare peaks
of the Rocky Mountains,--a region of savannas and forests, sun-cracked
deserts, and grassy prairies, watered by a thousand rivers, ranged by
a thousand warlike tribes, passed beneath the scepter of the Sultan of
Versailles; and all by virtue of a feeble human voice, inaudible at
half a mile.

[1] From "La Salle and the Discovery of the Great West." By
permission of the publishers, Little, Brown & Co. Robert Cavelier,
Sieur de La Salle, was born in Rouen, in France, in 1643, and
assassinated in Texas in 1687. He was of burgher descent, had been
educated by the Jesuits, with whom for a time he was connected,
and first went to Canada in 1666, discovering the Ohio River in
1669, and the upper waters of the Illinois in 1671. In 1679 he
established a fort on the Illinois River, near the present Peoria,
intending it as a starting-point for an expedition down the
Mississippi. The expedition here described, organized in 1681,
comprized, beside La Salle and Tonti, thirty Frenchmen and a band
of Indians. It reached the Mississippi by way of the Chicago
portage and the Illinois River, and arrived at the mouth in 1682.
In 1684 La Salle attempted to found a settlement at the mouth of
the Mississippi. Starting from France, he made a landing in
Matagorda Bay, Texas, and near a branch of the Trinity River, in
Texas, was assassinated by some of his disaffected followers. His
patent of nobility dates from 1673.

[2] A reference to the loss of the _Griffin_, which he had built
at the mouth of Cayuga Creek, near Buffalo, the first vessel ever
built on the Great Lakes, and which was lost on Lake Michigan soon
afterward.

[3] Tony tells us he lost his hand in Sicily, where it was "shot
off by a grenade."

END OF VOL. I

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13