← Table of ContentsFrance and England in North America, Part III: La Salle, Discovery of The Great West

CHAPTER XXIV.

1684, 1685.

THE VOYAGE.

Disputes with Beaujeu.--St. Domingo.--La Salle Attacked with Fever:

his Desperate Condition.--The Gulf Of Mexico.--A Vain Search and a

Fatal Error.

The four ships sailed from Rochelle on the twenty-fourth of July. Four

days after, the "Joly" broke her bowsprit, by design as La Salle

fancied. They all put back to Rochefort, where the mischief was quickly

repaired; and they put to sea again. La Salle, and the chief persons of

the expedition, with a crowd of soldiers, artisans, and women, the

destined mothers of Louisiana, were all on board the "Joly." Beaujeu

wished to touch at Madeira, to replenish his water-casks. La Salle

refused, lest by doing so the secret of the enterprise might reach the

Spaniards. One Paget, a Huguenot, took up the word in support of

Beaujeu. La Salle told him that the affair was none of his; and as Paget

persisted with increased warmth and freedom, he demanded of Beaujeu if

it was with his consent that a man of no rank spoke to him in that

manner. Beaujeu sustained the Huguenot. "That is enough," returned La

Salle, and withdrew into his cabin.[278]

This was not the first misunderstanding; nor was it the last. There was

incessant chafing between the two commanders; and the sailors of the

"Joly" were soon of one mind with their captain. When the ship crossed

the tropic, they made ready a tub on deck to baptize the passengers,

after the villanous practice of the time; but La Salle refused to permit

it, at which they were highly exasperated, having promised themselves a

bountiful ransom, in money or liquor, from their victims. "Assuredly,"

says Joutel, "they would gladly have killed us all."

[Sidenote: ST. DOMINGO.]

When, after a wretched voyage of two months the ships reached St.

Domingo, a fresh dispute occurred. It had been resolved at a council of

officers to stop at Port de Paix; but Beaujeu, on pretext of a fair

wind, ran by that place in the night, and cast anchor at Petit Goave, on

the other side of the island. La Salle was extremely vexed; for he

expected to meet at Port de Paix the Marquis de Saint-Laurent,

lieutenant-general of the islands, Bégon the intendant, and De Cussy,

governor of La Tortue, who had orders to supply him with provisions and

give him all possible aid.

The "Joly" was alone: the other vessels had lagged behind. She had more

than fifty sick men on board, and La Salle was of the number. He sent a

messenger to Saint-Laurent, Bégon, and Cussy, begging them to come to

him; ordered Joutel to get the sick ashore, suffocating as they were in

the hot and crowded ship; and caused the soldiers to be landed on a

small island in the harbor. Scarcely had the voyagers sung _Te Deum_ for

their safe arrival, when two of the lagging vessels appeared, bringing

tidings that the third, the ketch "St. François," had been taken by

Spanish buccaneers. She was laden with provisions, tools, and other

necessaries for the colony; and the loss was irreparable. Beaujeu was

answerable for it; for had he anchored at Port de Paix, it would not

have occurred. The lieutenant-general, with Bégon and Cussy, who

presently arrived, plainly spoke their minds to him.[279]

[Sidenote: ILLNESS OF LA SALLE.]

La Salle's illness increased. "I was walking with him one day," writes

Joutel, "when he was seized of a sudden with such a weakness that he

could not stand, and was obliged to lie down on the ground. When he was

a little better, I led him to a chamber of a house that the brothers

Duhaut had hired. Here we put him to bed, and in the morning he was

attacked by a violent fever."[280] "It was so violent that," says

another of his shipmates, "his imagination pictured to him things

equally terrible and amazing."[281] He lay delirious in the wretched

garret, attended by his brother, and one or two others who stood

faithful to him. A goldsmith of the neighborhood, moved at his

deplorable condition, offered the use of his house; and Abbé Cavelier

had him removed thither. But there was a tavern hard by, and the patient

was tormented with daily and nightly riot. At the height of the fever, a

party of Beaujeu's sailors spent a night in singing and dancing before

the house; and, says Cavelier, "The more we begged them to be quiet, the

more noise they made." La Salle lost reason and well-nigh life; but at

length his mind resumed its balance, and the violence of the disease

abated. A friendly Capucin friar offered him the shelter of his roof;

and two of his men supported him thither on foot, giddy with exhaustion

and hot with fever. Here he found repose, and was slowly recovering,

when some of his attendants rashly told him the loss of the ketch "St.

François;" and the consequence was a critical return of the

disease.[282]

There was no one to fill his place. Beaujeu would not; Cavelier could

not. Joutel, the gardener's son, was apparently the most trusty man of

the company; but the expedition was virtually without a head. The men

roamed on shore, and plunged into every excess of debauchery,

contracting diseases which eventually killed them.

[Sidenote: COMPLAINTS OF BEAUJEU.]

Beaujeu, in the extremity of ill-humor, resumed his correspondence with

Seignelay. "But for the illness of the Sieur de la Salle," he writes, "I

could not venture to report to you the progress of our voyage, as I am

charged only with the navigation, and he with the secrets; but as his

malady has deprived him of the use of his faculties, both of body and

mind, I have thought myself obliged to acquaint you with what is

passing, and of the condition in which we are."

He then declares that the ships freighted by La Salle were so slow that

the "Joly" had continually been forced to wait for them, thus doubling

the length of the voyage; that he had not had water enough for the

passengers, as La Salle had not told him that there were to be any such

till the day they came on board; that great numbers were sick, and that

he had told La Salle there would be trouble if he filled all the space

between decks with his goods, and forced the soldiers and sailors to

sleep on deck; that he had told him he would get no provisions at St.

Domingo, but that he insisted on stopping; that it had always been

so,--that whatever he proposed La Salle would refuse, alleging orders

from the King; "and now," pursues the ruffled commander, "everybody is

ill; and he himself has a violent fever, as dangerous, the surgeon tells

me, to the mind as to the body."

The rest of the letter is in the same strain. He says that a day or two

after La Salle's illness began, his brother Cavelier came to ask him to

take charge of his affairs; but that he did not wish to meddle with

them, especially as nobody knows anything about them, and as La Salle

has sold some of the ammunition and provisions; that Cavelier tells him

that he thinks his brother keeps no accounts, wishing to hide his

affairs from everybody; that he learns from buccaneers that the entrance

of the Mississippi is very shallow and difficult, and that this is the

worst season for navigating the Gulf; that the Spaniards have in these

seas six vessels of from thirty to sixty guns each, besides row-galleys;

but that he is not afraid, and will perish, or bring back an account of

the Mississippi. "Nevertheless," he adds, "if the Sieur de la Salle

dies, I shall pursue a course different from that which he has marked

out; for I do not approve his plans."

"If," he continues, "you permit me to speak my mind, M. de la Salle

ought to have been satisfied with discovering his river, without

undertaking to conduct three vessels with troops two thousand leagues

through so many different climates, and across seas entirely unknown to

him. I grant that he is a man of knowledge, that he has reading, and

even some tincture of navigation; but there is so much difference

between theory and practice, that a man who has only the former will

always be at fault. There is also a great difference between conducting

canoes on lakes and along a river, and navigating ships with troops on

distant oceans."[283]

While Beaujeu was complaining of La Salle, his followers were deserting

him. It was necessary to send them on board ship, and keep them there;

for there were French buccaneers at Petit Goave, who painted the

promised land in such dismal colors that many of the adventurers

completely lost heart. Some, too, were dying. "The air of this place is

bad," says Joutel; "so are the fruits; and there are plenty of women

worse than either."[284]

It was near the end of November before La Salle could resume the voyage.

He was told that Beaujeu had said that he would not wait longer for the

store-ship "Aimable," and that she might follow as she could.[285]

Moreover, La Salle was on ill terms with Aigron, her captain, who had

declared that he would have nothing more to do with him.[286] Fearing,

therefore, that some mishap might befall her, he resolved to embark in

her himself, with his brother Cavelier, Membré, Douay, and others, the

trustiest of his followers. On the twenty-fifth they set sail; the

"Joly" and the little frigate "Belle" following. They coasted the shore

of Cuba, and landed at the Isle of Pines, where La Salle shot an

alligator, which the soldiers ate; and the hunter brought in a wild pig,

half of which he sent to Beaujeu. Then they advanced to Cape St.

Antoine, where bad weather and contrary winds long detained them. A load

of cares oppressed the mind of La Salle, pale and haggard with recent

illness, wrapped within his own thoughts, and seeking sympathy from

none.

[Sidenote: A VAIN SEARCH.]

At length they entered the Gulf of Mexico, that forbidden sea whence by

a Spanish decree, dating from the reign of Philip II., all foreigners

were excluded on pain of extermination.[287] Not a man on board knew the

secrets of its perilous navigation. Cautiously feeling their way, they

held a north-westerly course, till on the twenty-eighth of December a

sailor at the mast-head of the "Aimable" saw land. La Salle and all the

pilots had been led to form an exaggerated idea of the force of the

easterly currents; and they therefore supposed themselves near the Bay

of Appalache, when, in fact, they were much farther westward.

On New Year's Day they anchored three leagues from the shore. La Salle,

with the engineer Minet, went to explore it, and found nothing but a

vast marshy plain, studded with clumps of rushes. Two days after there

was a thick fog, and when at length it cleared, the "Joly" was nowhere

to be seen. La Salle in the "Aimable," followed closely by the little

frigate "Belle," stood westward along the coast. When at the mouth of

the Mississippi in 1682, he had taken its latitude, but unhappily could

not determine its longitude; and now every eye on board was strained to

detect in the monotonous lines of the low shore some tokens of the

great river. In fact, they had already passed it. On the sixth of

January, a wide opening was descried between two low points of land; and

the adjacent sea was discolored with mud. "La Salle," writes his brother

Cavelier, "has always thought that this was the Mississippi." To all

appearance, it was the entrance of Galveston Bay.[288] But why did he

not examine it? Joutel says that his attempts to do so were frustrated

by the objections of the pilot of the "Aimable," to which, with a

facility very unusual with him, he suffered himself to yield. Cavelier

declares, on the other hand, that he would not enter the opening because

he was afraid of missing the "Joly." But he might have entered with one

of his two vessels, while the other watched outside for the absent ship.

From whatever cause, he lay here five or six days, waiting in vain for

Beaujeu;[289] till, at last, thinking that he must have passed westward,

he resolved to follow. The "Aimable" and the "Belle" again spread their

sails, and coasted the shores of Texas. Joutel, with a boat's crew,

tried to land; but the sand-bars and breakers repelled him. A party of

Indians swam out through the surf, and were taken on board; but La Salle

could learn nothing from them, as their language was unknown to him.

Again Joutel tried to land, and again the breakers repelled him. He

approached as near as he dared, and saw vast plains and a dim expanse of

forest, buffalo running with their heavy gallop along the shore, and

deer grazing on the marshy meadows.

[Sidenote: THE SHORES OF TEXAS.]

Soon after, he succeeded in landing at a point somewhere between

Matagorda Island and Corpus Christi Bay. The aspect of the country was

not cheering, with its barren plains, its reedy marshes, its

interminable oyster-beds, and broad flats of mud bare at low tide.

Joutel and his men sought in vain for fresh water, and after shooting

some geese and ducks returned to the "Aimable." Nothing had been seen of

Beaujeu and the "Joly;" the coast was trending southward; and La Salle,

convinced that he must have passed the missing ship, turned to retrace

his course. He had sailed but a few miles when the wind failed, a fog

covered the sea, and he was forced to anchor opposite one of the

openings into the lagoons north of Mustang Island. At length, on the

nineteenth, there came a faint breeze; the mists rolled away before it,

and to his great joy he saw the "Joly" approaching.

"His joy," says Joutel, "was short." Beaujeu's lieutenant, Aire, came on

board to charge him with having caused the separation, and La Salle

retorted by throwing the blame on Beaujeu. Then came a debate as to

their position. The priest Esmanville was present, and reports that La

Salle seemed greatly perplexed. He had more cause for perplexity than

he knew; for in his ignorance of the longitude of the Mississippi, he

had sailed more than four hundred miles beyond it.

Of this he had not the faintest suspicion. In full sight from his ship

lay a reach of those vast lagoons which, separated from the sea by

narrow strips of land, line this coast with little interruption from

Galveston Bay to the Rio Grande. The idea took possession of him that

the Mississippi discharged itself into these lagoons, and thence made

its way to the sea through the various openings he had seen along the

coast, chief among which was that he had discovered on the sixth, about

fifty leagues from the place where he now was.[290]

[Sidenote: PERPLEXITY OF LA SALLE.]

Yet he was full of doubt as to what he should do. Four days after

rejoining Beaujeu, he wrote him the strange request to land the troops,

that he "might fulfil his commission;" that is, that he might set out

against the Spaniards.[291] More than a week passed, a gale had set in,

and nothing was done. Then La Salle wrote again, intimating some doubt

as to whether he was really at one of the mouths of the Mississippi, and

saying that, being sure that he had passed the principal mouth, he was

determined to go back to look for it.[292] Meanwhile, Beaujeu was in a

state of great irritation. The weather was stormy, and the coast was

dangerous. Supplies were scanty; and La Salle's soldiers, still crowded

in the "Joly," were consuming the provisions of the ship. Beaujeu gave

vent to his annoyance, and La Salle retorted in the same strain.

According to Joutel, he urged the naval commander to sail back in search

of the river; and Beaujeu refused, unless La Salle should give the

soldiers provisions. La Salle, he adds, offered to supply them with

rations for fifteen days; and Beaujeu declared this insufficient. There

is reason, however, to believe that the request was neither made by the

one nor refused by the other so positively as here appears.

FOOTNOTES:

[278] _Lettre (sans nom d'auteur) écrite de St. Domingue, 14 Nov., 1684_

(Margry, ii. 492); _Mémoire autographe de l'Abbé Jean Cavelier sur le

Voyage de 1684_. Compare Joutel.

[279] _Mémoire de MM. de Saint-Laurens et Bégon_ (Margry, ii. 499);

Joutel, _Journal Historique_, 28.

[280] _Relation de Henri Joutel_ (Margry, iii. 98).

[281] _Lettre (sans nom d'auteur), 14 Nov., 1684_ (Margry, ii. 496).

[282] The above particulars are from the memoir of La Salle's brother,

Abbé Cavelier, already cited.

[283] _Lettre de Beaujeu au Ministre, 20 Oct., 1684._

[284] _Relation de Henri Joutel_ (Margry, iii. 105).

[285] _Mémoire autographe de l'Abbé Jean Cavelier._

[286] _Lettre de Beaujeu au Ministre, 20 Oct., 1684._

[287] _Letter of Don Luis de Onis to the Secretary of State_ (American

State Papers, xii, 27-31).

[288] "La hauteur nous a fait remarquer ... que ce que nous avions vu le

sixième janvier estoit en effet la principale entrée de la rivière que

nous cherchions."--_Lettre de La Salle au Ministre, 4 Mars, 1687._

[289] _Mémoire autographe de l'Abbé Cavelier._

[290] "Depuis que nous avions quitté cette rivière qu'il croyoit

infailliblement estre le fleuve Colbert _[Mississippi]_ nous avions fait

environ 45 lieues ou 50 au plus." (Cavelier, _Mémoire_.) This, taken in

connection with the statement of La Salle that this "principale entrée

de la rivière que nous cherchions" was twenty-five or thirty leagues

northeast from the entrance of the Bay of St. Louis (Matagorda Bay),

shows that it can have been no other than the entrance of Galveston Bay,

mistaken by him for the chief outlet of the Mississippi. It is evident

that he imagined Galveston Bay to form a part of the chain of lagoons

from which it is in fact separated. He speaks of these lagoons as "une

espèce de baye fort longue et fort large, _dans laquelle le fleuve

Colbert se décharge_." He adds that on his descent to the mouth of the

river in 1682 he had been deceived in supposing that this expanse of

salt water, where no shore was in sight, was the open sea. _Lettre de La

Salle au Ministre, 4 Mars, 1685._ Galveston Bay and the mouth of the

Mississippi differ little in latitude, though separated by about five

and a half degrees of longitude.

[291] _Lettre de La Salle à Beaujeu, 23 Jan., 1685_ (Margry, ii. 526).

[292] This letter is dated, "De l'emboucheure d'une rivière que _je

crois estre_ une des descharges du Mississipy" (Margry, ii. 528).