France and England in North America, Part III: La Salle, Discovery of The Great West
qualities been counterbalanced by a haughtiness of manner which often
made him insupportable, and by a harshness towards those under his
command which drew upon him an implacable hatred, and was at last the
cause of his death."[330]
[Sidenote: HIS CHARACTER.]
The enthusiasm of the disinterested and chivalrous Champlain was not
the enthusiasm of La Salle; nor had he any part in the self-devoted zeal
of the early Jesuit explorers. He belonged not to the age of the
knight-errant and the saint, but to the modern world of practical study
and practical action. He was the hero not of a principle nor of a faith,
but simply of a fixed idea and a determined purpose. As often happens
with concentred and energetic natures, his purpose was to him a passion
and an inspiration; and he clung to it with a certain fanaticism of
devotion. It was the offspring of an ambition vast and comprehensive,
yet acting in the interest both of France and of civilization.
Serious in all things, incapable of the lighter pleasures, incapable of
repose, finding no joy but in the pursuit of great designs, too shy for
society and too reserved for popularity, often unsympathetic and always
seeming so, smothering emotions which he could not utter, schooled to
universal distrust, stern to his followers and pitiless to himself,
bearing the brunt of every hardship and every danger, demanding of
others an equal constancy joined to an implicit deference, heeding no
counsel but his own, attempting the impossible and grasping at what was
too vast to hold,--he contained in his own complex and painful nature
the chief springs of his triumphs, his failures, and his death.
It is easy to reckon up his defects, but it is not easy to hide from
sight the Roman virtues that redeemed them. Beset by a throng of
enemies, he stands, like the King of Israel, head and shoulders above
them all. He was a tower of adamant, against whose impregnable front
hardship and danger, the rage of man and of the elements, the southern
sun, the northern blast, fatigue, famine, disease, delay,
disappointment, and deferred hope emptied their quivers in vain. That
very pride which, Coriolanus-like, declared itself most sternly in the
thickest press of foes, has in it something to challenge admiration.
Never, under the impenetrable mail of paladin or crusader, beat a heart
of more intrepid mettle than within the stoic panoply that armed the
breast of La Salle. To estimate aright the marvels of his patient
fortitude, one must follow on his track through the vast scene of his
interminable journeyings,--those thousands of weary miles of forest,
marsh, and river, where, again and again, in the bitterness of baffled
striving, the untiring pilgrim pushed onward towards the goal which he
was never to attain. America owes him an enduring memory; for in this
masculine figure she sees the pioneer who guided her to the possession
of her richest heritage.[331]
[Sidenote: DOCUMENTARY EVIDENCE.]
FOOTNOTES:
[325] Tonty also speaks of him as "un flibustier anglois." In another
document, he is called "James."
[326] Of the three narratives of this journey, those of Joutel,
Cavelier, and Anastase Douay, the first is by far the best. That of
Cavelier seems the work of a man of confused brain and indifferent
memory. Some of his statements are irreconcilable with those of Joutel
and Douay; and known facts of his history justify the suspicion of a
wilful inaccuracy. Joutel's account is of a very different character,
and seems to be the work of an honest and intelligent man. Douay's
account if brief; but it agrees with that of Joutel, in most essential
points.
[327] Cavelier, _Relation_.
[328] Called Lanquetot by Tonty.
[329] "Te voilà, grand Bacha, te voilà!"--Joutel, _Journal Historique_,
203.
[330] _Ibid._
[331] On the assassination of La Salle, the evidence is fourfold: 1. The
narrative of Douay, who was with him at the time. 2. That of Joutel, who
learned the facts, immediately after they took place, from Douay and
others, and who parted from La Salle an hour or more before his death.
3. A document preserved in the Archives de la Marine, entitled _Relation
de la Mort du Sr. de la Salle, suivant le rapport d'un nommé Couture à
qui M. Cavelier l'apprit en passant au pays des Akansa, avec toutes les
circonstances que le dit Couture a apprises d'un François que M.
Cavelier avoit laissé aux dits pays des Akansa, crainte qu'il ne gardât
pas le secret_. 4. The authentic memoir of Tonty, of which a copy from
the original is before me, and which has recently been printed by
Margry.
The narrative of Cavelier unfortunately fails us several weeks before
the death of his brother, the remainder being lost. On a study of these
various documents, it is impossible to resist the conclusion that
neither Cavelier nor Douay always wrote honestly. Joutel, on the
contrary, gives the impression of sense, intelligence, and candor
throughout. Charlevoix, who knew him long after, says that he was "un
fort honnête homme, et le seul de la troupe de M. de la Salle, sur qui
ce célèbre voyageur pût compter." Tonty derived his information from the
survivors of La Salle's party. Couture, whose statements are embodied in
the _Relation de la Mort de M. de la Salle_, was one of Tonty's men,
who, as will be seen hereafter, were left by him at the mouth of the
Arkansas, and to whom Cavelier told the story of his brother's death.
Couture also repeats the statements of one of La Salle's followers,
undoubtedly a Parisian boy, named Barthelemy, who was violently
prejudiced against his chief, whom he slanders to the utmost of his
skill, saying that he was so enraged at his failures that he did not
approach the sacraments for two years; that he nearly starved his
brother Cavelier, allowing him only a handful of meal a day; that he
killed with his own hand "quantité de personnes," who did not work to
his liking; and that he killed the sick in their beds, without mercy,
under the pretence that they were counterfeiting sickness in order to
escape work. These assertions certainly have no other foundation than
the undeniable rigor of La Salle's command. Douay says that he confessed
and made his devotions on the morning of his death, while Cavelier
always speaks of him as the hope and the staff of the colony.
Douay declares that La Salle lived an hour after the fatal shot; that he
gave him absolution, buried his body, and planted a cross on his grave.
At the time, he told Joutel a different story; and the latter, with the
best means of learning the facts, explicitly denies the friar's printed
statement. Couture, on the authority of Cavelier himself, also says that
neither he nor Douay was permitted to take any step for burying the
body. Tonty says that Cavelier begged leave to do so, but was refused.
Douay, unwilling to place upon record facts from which the inference
might easily be drawn that he had been terrified from discharging his
duty, no doubt invented the story of the burial, as well as that of the
edifying behavior of Moranget, after he had been struck in the head with
an axe.
The locality of La Salle's assassination is sufficiently clear, from a
comparison of the several narratives; and it is also indicated on a
contemporary manuscript map, made on the return of the survivors of the
party to France. The scene of the catastrophe is here placed on a
southern branch of the Trinity.
La Salle's debts, at the time of his death, according to a schedule
presented in 1701 to Champigny, intendant of Canada, amounted to 106,831
livres, without reckoning interest. This cannot be meant to include all,
as items are given which raise the amount much higher. In 1678 and 1679
alone, he contracted debts to the amount of 97,184 livres, of which
46,000 were furnished by Branssac, fiscal attorney of the Seminary of
Montreal. This was to be paid in beaver-skins. Frontenac, at the same
time, became his surety for 13,623 livres. In 1684, he borrowed 34,825
livres from the Sieur Pen, at Paris. These sums do not include the
losses incurred by his family, which, in the memorial presented by them
to the King, are set down at 500,000 livres for the expeditions between
1678 and 1683, and 300,000 livres for the fatal Texan expedition of 1684
These last figures are certainly exaggerated.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
1687, 1688.
THE INNOCENT AND THE GUILTY.
Triumph of the Murderers.--Danger of Joutel.--Joutel among the
Cenis.--White Savages.--Insolence of Duhaut and his
Accomplices.--Murder of Duhaut and Liotot.--Hiens, the
Buccaneer.--Joutel and his Party: their Escape; they reach the
Arkansas.--Bravery and Devotion of Tonty.--The Fugitives reach
the Illinois.--Unworthy Conduct of Cavelier.--He and his Companions
return to France.
Father Anastase Douay returned to the camp, and, aghast with grief and
terror, rushed into the hut of Cavelier. "My poor brother is dead!"
cried the priest, instantly divining the catastrophe from the
horror-stricken face of the messenger. Close behind came the murderers,
Duhaut at their head. Cavelier, his young nephew, and Douay himself, all
fell on their knees, expecting instant death. The priest begged
piteously for half an hour to prepare for his end; but terror and
submission sufficed, and no more blood was shed. The camp yielded
without resistance; and Duhaut was lord of all. In truth, there were
none to oppose him; for, except the assassins themselves, the party was
now reduced to six persons,--Joutel, Douay, the elder Cavelier, his
young nephew, and two other boys, the orphan Talon and a lad called
Barthelemy.
[Sidenote: DOUBT AND ANXIETY.]
Joutel, for the moment, was absent; and L'Archevêque, who had a kindness
for him, went quietly to seek him. He found him on a hillock, making a
fire of dried grass in order that the smoke might guide La Salle on his
return, and watching the horses grazing in the meadow below. "I was very
much surprised," writes Joutel, "when I saw him approaching. When he
came up to me he seemed all in confusion, or, rather, out of his wits.
He began with saying that there was very bad news. I asked what it was.
He answered that the Sieur de la Salle was dead, and also his nephew the
Sieur de Moranget, his Indian hunter, and his servant. I was petrified,
and did not know what to say; for I saw that they had been murdered. The
man added that, at first, the murderers had sworn to kill me too. I
easily believed it, for I had always been in the interest of M. de la
Salle, and had commanded in his place; and it is hard to please
everybody, or prevent some from being dissatisfied. I was greatly
perplexed as to what I ought to do, and whether I had not better escape
to the woods, whithersoever God should guide me; but, by bad or good
luck, I had no gun and only one pistol, without balls or powder except
what was in my powder-horn. To whatever side I turned, my life was in
great peril. It is true that L'Archevêque assured me that they had
changed their minds, and had agreed to murder nobody else, unless they
met with resistance. So, being in no condition, as I just said, to go
far, having neither arms nor powder, I abandoned myself to Providence,
and went back to the camp, where I found that these wretched murderers
had seized everything belonging to M. de la Salle, and even my personal
effects. They had also taken possession of all the arms. The first words
that Duhaut said to me were, that each should command in turn; to which
I made no answer. I saw M. Cavelier praying in a corner, and Father
Anastase in another. He did not dare to speak to me, nor did I dare to
go towards him till I had seen the designs of the assassins. They were
in furious excitement, but, nevertheless, very uneasy and embarrassed. I