Notes to the next group

II.

THE BUILDING OP THE GRIFFON.

On the voyage from Rochelle, whence they sailed July 14, 1678, to Quebec, where they arrived two months later, La Salle learned to appreciate the many good qualities of which his lieutenant was later to give him such signal proof. Here La Salle formed the only intimate friendship of his life, and was rewarded by attaching to himself a man whose loyalty and disinterested devotion ceased only with death.

It was the purpose of La Salle to follow up the discoveries of Joliet and Marquette in their Mississippi voyage, and to ascertain by descending to the mouth whether <hat stream disembogued into the Vermilion Sea (Gulf of California), the Gulf of Mexico, or was indeed the long-sought medium of communication with Japan and China — the Cipango and Cathay of Marco Polo. In the ship that bore the adventurers to New France were the materials for building a vessel to navigate the lakes. Artisans skilled in such construction had also been brought along.

Without loss of time, the companions set about in making preparations for their journey into an unknown country. The marvelous energy and fertility of resource displayed by Tonty astonished and delighted La Salle.

"His honorable character and his amiable disposition were well-known to you," he wrote to Prince Conti with enthusiasm unusual in this cold man, "but perhaps you would not have thought him capable of doing things for which a strong constitution, an acquaintance with the country and the use of both hands seemed absolutely necessary. Nevertheless, his energy and address make him equal to anything; and now, at a season when everybody is in fear of the ice, he is setting out to begin a new fort, two hundred leagues from this place."

In making the trip to Niagara from Ft. Frontenac, on Lake Ontario where the modern city of Kingston now is, Tonty experienced the first evidence of the secret treachery directed against La Salle. The boat in which they came was wrecked through the obstinacy of the pilot, who had doubtless been tampered with by the enemies of La Salle. Niagara was selected as the site of the shipyard. It was win-

ter, but the work of building the boat was begun with great energy, the distrustful Seneca Indians having been first placated in a measure by liberal presents. They had brought up the St. Lawrence and along the twelve-mile portage trail of the Niagara gorge the anchors, cordage, sails and other material needful for equipment of the vessel they were to build. La Salle remained long enough to drive the first bolt, and returned to Ft. Frontenac, at the other end of the lake. He left Tonty in command with instructions to complete the vessel.

It was a task of some magnitude that devolved upon this man. If he had an iron hand, he had a will of steel. The Senecas of the vicinity, doubtless inspired to hostility not only by the enemies of La Salle at Montreal, but also suspicious that the ribbed structure growing before their eyes meant menace to the western fur trade which they had heretofore monopolized, threatend to make a bonfire of the vessel. Provisions were scant, the boat wrecked by the treacherous pilot having contained a needed supply. But for the prowess of two New England Indians whom La Salle had attached to his service and who became his devoted followers, the thirty men and the Father Recollect (Hennepin) with Tonty would have starved. The Senecas would furnish no corn, and even the Mohegan hunters could not supply enough game to fill the stomachs of the hungry, cold and dispirited men. These men grumbled and were with difficulty prevented from resorting to mutiny or desertion. To add to the trials of this stranger in a strange land, Father Hennepin, the Recollect accompanying the party, did not spare his peevish complaints — doubtless prompted by envy, because La Salle had not placed him in commanS. It was here that Tonty made an enemy of the Franciscan by bluntly advising him to confine his efforts to the spiritual affairs of the party.

Under these trying conditions was constructed the first vessel that ever plowed the waters of Lakes Erie, Huron and Michigan. As it progressed towards completion, the Iroquois braves grew more menacing. One of them attempted to kill the blacksmith, but the latter kept the Indian at bay with a bar of red-hot iron, till assistance arrived. The feverish energy of Tonty spurred the men to similai exertion, despite their sullen discontent bred by privation, cold and danger of attack.

In May the vessel was ready to launch. Amid the roar of her cannon and the chorus of the Te Deum from thirty bearded throats, the vessel slid from her stocks into the Niagara river — safe at last from the threatened molestation of the Indians. As a further precaution, the vessel was towed into mid-stream. Five cannon ominously glowered from her portholes upon the Indians on the bank and gave warning of the danger that lay in wait for hostile visitors.

The testimony of the hardships and trials that beset Tonty during this winter’s work of boat-building is furnished by others than himself. In his own memoir he assumes no credit for himself. The

building of a vessel in the midst of hostile Indians, several hundred miles from the nearest settlement of Frenchmen, with a half-starved and half-frozen crew inspired to mutiny by agents of the Montreal merchants, is a long story, but he tells it in a line. It is worth while to quote what he says about it in his memoir, as characteristic of this man:

"The boat was completed in the spring of 1679" is his laconic description of the winter’s eventful experiences.

III.

INTO THE WILDERNESS OF THE WEST.

It was not until summer was well advanced that La Salle joined the party aboard the Griffon, as the vessel of 45 tons burden was christened. The heraldic emblem of Count Frontenac, governor of New France, was a representation of this fabulous monster, half eagle and half lion. In his honor had the name been given, and a griffin had been rudely carved in wood at the prow.

"I will yet make the griffin fly above the crows," were the savage words of La Salle in emphasizing his regard for Count Frontenac and his cordial dislike of the black-gowned Jesuits.

It was thus with moody satisfaction that he named his vessel the "Griffon" and sailed in quest of the means that should bring confusion upon his enemies. Upon his return to Ft. Frontenac he had learned that their machinations had resulted in the seizure of his fort and all his possessions on some specious pretexts.

Tonty did not sail in the first trip that the Griffon made. He went ahead in a bark canoe in quest of some men whom La Salle had dispatched into the Illinois country some months before to secure supplies and to barter for beaver skins. Arrived at the Straits (Detroit), Tonty sent up three columns of smoke, and on the tenth of August his signal greeted the party on the vessel. Tonty here embarked with his men, and the Griffon passed up the straits. On the 23d, Lake Huron first felt upon its surface the cutting keel of a sailing vessel. It was not long before one of the terrible fall gales which sweep over that broad sheet of water sent the little craft trembling between the engulfing waves.

"Our people lost all hope of escape," says the account of Father Membre, one of the Recollets of the party, "but a vow which they made to St. Anthony of Padua, the patron of mariners, delivered them by a kind of miracle, so that, after long making head against the wind, the vessel on the 27th reached Missilimakinak."

The good father does not give minute details as to the nature of the vow offered to St. Anthony of Padua. When their terror had abat-

ed with the storm, the crew doubtless forgot all about it. The vessel was destined to meet with sad mishap later on.^

At this time Michilimackinac was the Jesuit stronghold in the western country. Here were gathered also the lawless rangers of the woods, wko set at defiance the inhibition of the authorities at Montreal relative to the trade in beaver furs. The Ottawas and Hurons gathered here were also inimical to La Salle. Four of La Salle’s men who had been sent ahead to barter .were found here and were arrested. They had dissipated the goods entrusted to them and bred hostility to their chief. Tonty went to the Sault Ste. Marie and captured two other deserters; the others of the fifteen men escaped.

Early in September the Griffon sailed into Green Bay, mooring at one of the islands (probably Washington Island) whose astonished inhabitants gazed with wonder at this "house that walked on 'he water." Nearly half a century before Jean Nicolet had skirted the same island, the first white man to step upon Wisconsin soil. The Pottawattamies who then inhabited the cluster of islands at the entrance of the Bay proved friendly. La Salle loaded his vessel with beaver skins and dispatched it back to Niagara in order to appease his creditors with the valuable cargo. He directed that this done, the Grififon should immediately return to Lake Michigan with additional supplies.

The Griffon was never seen again. Whether she foundered in a storm or whether the crew — ripe for mutiny before their departure, — scuttled the vessel after rifling the cargo and then escaped to the Indians of the North, forever remained a mystery.^

3. Hennepin gives a highly-colored picture of the storm. He remarks that even La Salle’s courage disappeared before the storm’s fury.

4. "They sailed the 18th, with a westerly wind, and fired a gun on taking leave. It was never known what course they steered, nor how they perished; but it is supposed that the ship struck upon a sand, and was there hurried. This was a great loss, for that ship with its cargo cost above 60,000 livres." — Hennepin’s Description de la Louis-lane," Paris, 1683.

IV.

THE COUNTRY OP THE ILLINOIS.

It had been agreed by La Salle and Tonty to rendezvous at the mouth of the Aliamis river (St. Joseph) and to proceed thence to the Illinois river. La Salle, journeying down the western shore of Lake Michigan, passed the future sites of Milwaukee and Chicago. He arrived at the appointed place first, Tonty’s search for the deserters at the Sault Ste. Marie having delayed him. Tonty made his way along the eastern shore of the lake. When within 90 miles of the Miamis, provisions gave out, and the party landed to hunt. Tonty pushed on to La Salle’s camp. There he found a stockade partly constructed. La Salle was in an irritable frame of mind over the prolonged absence of the men, and Tonty’s inability to give him news concerning the vessel which had left Green Bay freighted with furs, did not tend to soothe him. Tonty records in his narrative:

"He told me he wished all the men had come with me, in order that he might proceed to the Illinois. I therefore retraced my way to find them, but the violence of the wind forced me to land, and our canoe was upset by the violence of the waves. It was, however, saved, but everything that was in it was lost. For want of provisions we lived for three days on acorns."

Upon Tonty’s return, the reunited party descended the Miamis, portaged to the desolate marshes that give birth to the Kankakee, and finally glided into the Illinois river. Near the site of the present town of Utica, they came upon a village of the Illinois Indians. The wigwams were vacant, for it was the season of the great winter hunt. The Frenchmen had consumed all their provisions, and in their necessity they did not scruple to open the village caches and to help themselves to corn stored therein.^

5. "The term cache, meaning a place of concealment, was originally used by the French Canadian trappers and traders. It is made by digging a hole in the ground, eomewhat In the shape of a jug, which Is lined with dry sticlis, grass, or anything else that will protect Its contents from the dampness of the earth. In this place th« goods to be concealed are carefully stowed away." — Gregg’s (Commerce of the Prairies, vol. I, p. 68.

Dispirited by the fatigues of the journey, and the certainty of hardships and dangers yet to come, some of the men had planned to desert. Fortunately — or rather unfortunately as the sequel proved — it turned so bitterly cold that they did not venture to do so.

Continuing their river route, the entire party floated into Lake Peoria — an expansion of the stream, and at its lower end were made aware of the proximity of Indians by curling columns of smoke. Uncertain as to the reception that would be accorded them by Indians whose underground granaries they had pillaged, and who had been represented to them long before as hostile, the Frenchmen at once placed themselves oji the defensive. The boats were ranged in line, La Salle on the left and Tonty on the right, and they boldly headed for the Indian encampment.

There the unexpected appearance of the little fleet had created the utmost consternation. The squaws and their children ran screaming into the woods, and some of the valiant red men deemed it prudent to follow. Others, however, as the white men landed and gave no evidence of hostile intentions, advanced with that universally recognized emblem of good will — the calumet. The Frenchmen responded by holding aloft the same token of peace. The calumet was thereupon danced to La Salle and Tonty, who hastened to cement the friendship by compensating the Illinois for the fifty bushels of corn taken from their caches. This alliance with the Illinois, which was to ))lay such a large part in the career of Tonty, occurred Jan. 3. 1680.

V.

THE PORT OF THE BROKEN HEART.

It was not long before troubles accumulated. No word came to-the anxious voyageurs concerning the Griffon. Letters had been suspended conspicuously from the branches of trees along the route to guide expected messengers upon the return of the vessel.

But no messengers came.

Instead, the altered demeanor of the Indians gave ground for the belief that the emissaries of La Salle’s enemies had followed him even to these remote regions.

So it proved.

Under cover of night a Wisconsin Indian entered the village and in a secret council of the chiefs poisoned their good will by declaring that the strangers enjoying their hospitality were agents come to betray them to their dreaded foes — the Iroquois. He then returned to his Wisconsin wilderness as silently as he had come.

When La Salle and Tonty sought to enlist the Illinois chiefs in their Mississippi exploration, the Indians responded by describing, with the picturesque exaggeration appertaining to their phraseology, the terrible dangers that would have to be encountered. Alarmed by these tales, the insubordination of the miserable crew accompanying La Salle and Tonty came to the surface. An attempt was made to poison La Salle. Some of the men deserted, and their departure redoubled the suspicions of the Illinois that treachery was meditated.

Amid such discouragements a fort was built, and the construction begun of a vessel designed for sailing down the Mississippi. Yielding to an impulse of despondency unusual in this man of unbending will. La Salle called the fort Crevecoeur — Broken Heart.

Early in March La Salle’s impatience concerning the long expected tidings of his vessel prompted him to the sudden resolution to go back to Ft. Frontenac. Two days before he had sent Father Hennepin and two companions down the Illinois with instructions to explore the upper Mississippi. He departed on his own perilous trip of 1,200 miles overland with a faithful Indian hunter and three Frenchmen. He left Tonty in command of the fort.

Tonty had but eighteen men, including two Recollet fathers, Gab-

riel de la Ribourde and Zenobe ]\Icmbre. The latter later became the historian of the party.

Shortly after La Salle’s departure messengers arrived from Ft. Miamis. They told Tonty that La Salle had been there and had dispatched them hither to tell him to erect a fort on a commanding eminence facing the Illinois river some distance further up. While Tonty, with four men, was making a preliminary survey of this place, the messengers from the Miamis completed the defection of the men at Crevecoeur by telling them that La Salle’s ambitious projects had crumbled; that the Grififon had foundered in a gale; that his effects at Frontenac had been seized by the Montreal creditors and that there remained no hope of recompense from him for services that had remained unpaid since the beginning of the disastrous trip. The men seized the opportunity afforded by Tonty’s absence. They pillaged the fort and wantonly destroyed what they could not carry away. On a plank of the unfinished vessel one of the deserters scrawled this message with charcoal: "Nous sommes tous sauvages." ("We are all savages.")

The Recollect fathers, the Sieur de Boisrondet, and three other men, the remnant of the party, hastened to Tonty to apprise him of the serious events occurring in his absence. On the way two of these men also deserted, after destroying the firearms of the Sieur de Boisrondet and the only other man who proved loyal. In this extremity Tonty at once dispatched the four men who had been with him in quest of the Sieur de La Salle with an account of the unfortunate sacking of the fort. With his four remaining companions, he resigned himself to the dreary prospect of awaiting the return of their chief with re-enforcements. To maintain Fort Crevecoeur or to fortify the rock designated by La Salle as a site for a fort was out of the question. The two Recollects thereupon became domiciled in the Indian community in an earnest endeavor at conversion of the savages and the acquirement of their language. Tonty and the other two men took up their habitation in a cabin near the Indians.

.VI.

RAID OF THE IROQUOIS.

So the summer wore away in impatient inactivity. But for the dependence placed upon him by La Salle to hold in close alliance the tribes of the Illinois country, (a most important factor in his plans) Tonty would have been tempted to retrace his steps out of this region of prairie and wood, delightful as it was after the melting of the snows had been succeeded by the swelling of buds and deepening verdure of the fertile prairie lands.

Tonty had succeeded in winning the friendship of the chiefs and in allaying suspicions aroused by the Mascoutin Indian from Wisconsin in their early coming, but untoward events again aroused them. In mid-September, while most of the young warriors were absent on a hunt, there came breathless into camp an Indian runner with the news that the dreaded Iroquois were on the war-path; that with them was La Salle and that they were then but a day’s march away.

It was a critical moment for Tonty. Surrounded by the yelling braves, who were almost in a frenzy between fear of the fierce Iroquois and eagerness for revenge upon the supposed treacherous confederate in their midst, the life of Tonty seemed forfeit to their fury. His vehement denials of the accusation of treachery had less effect than his expressed willingness to lead them against the Iroquois — to fight if need be, to act as a messenger with peace proposals, if possible.

But the Illinois lacked the bravery that characterized their foes from the East, and but for Tonty’s inspiring counsel they would doubtless have sought safety in flight, as they had done before. The Iroquois, who had expected to surprise the Illinois, were greatly chagrined to find that their plans had miscarried, and no less so to observe the unwonted courage of the Illinois in coming to meet them. Seeing their hesitation and likewise noting the greater strength of the opposing force, Tonty concluded that he would attempt to bring about peace. Bearing a necklace in his hand as an offering, he approached tmarmed the hostile columns, accompanied by the Recollect fathers and the Sieur de Boisrondet. As the Iroquois greeted their advance with musket shots, Tonty sent back all his companions and continued alone on his mission.

He received no friendly greeting.

Immediately surrounded by the young braves, whom the older chiefs could not restrain, Tonty received a knife thrust over the heart. The blade glanced off a rib, or his career would have ended here. An Indian contemptuously seized the necklace he had carried and threw it on the ground. Another grasped Tonty’s hair and was about to add that trophy to his belt when the older chiefs interfered. An angry altercation ensued. Some wanted to make a living torch of Tonty; others wanted to set him at liberty, so as not to engage the French in their battle with the Illinois. Though suffering from • his wound and surrounded by captors thirsting for his blood, Tonty assumed a bold attitude. He told the assembled braves that the Illinois warriors numbered 1,200 fighting men; that with them were 60 Frenchmen who would aid them in the fight; that the Iroquois, in making war upon the Illinois, were fighting the children of the king of France, and would incur his displeasure. He counseled them to peace.

The crafty Iroquois, who were masters of the art of forest diplomacy, as they were of savage warfare, pretending acquiescence, engaged Tonty to carry proposals of peace. Bleeding from his wound and weakened by the loss of blood, Tonty undertook this mission.

In the meantime there had been some harmless skirmishing. When Tonty had been stabbed, an Indian brave had seized the Italian’s hat and poising it upon the muzzle of his gun had waved it ex-ultingly in the sight of the Illinois. Supposing Tonty to have been killed, the French fathers were overcome with joy when they saw Tonty coming towards them. He staggered into their welcoming arms, and they gave him such attention as their skill would allow.

The proposals of peace delighted the Illinois, who were on the verge of flight when Tonty came back to them. Many of them had already departed with the squaws and children to a place of refuge on an island near the mouth of the river. They told Tonty they would gladly make a peace. Tonty therefore returned to the Iroquois to further negotiate the terms. A young Illinois Indian, who had been sent as a hostage, nearly upset his plans by telling the Iroquois chieftains that his tribe was very glad to make the peace; that most of the men were away on a hunt; that if the Iroquois really wished for peace the Illinois were ready to give up the beaver skins they had stored and some slaves they had.

"I had much difficulty in getting out of the scrape," quaintly remarks Tonty in his memoir. "The Iroquois called me to them and loaded me with reproaches; they told me that I was a liar to have said that the Illinois had 1.200 warriors, besides the allies who had given them assistance. Where were the 60 Frenchmen who I ha(i told them had been left at the village?"

Meantime the Illinois had burned the huts of their village and retreated to their island refuge. The Iroquois occupied the site and

built a fort. Tonty and his companions remained in their cabin near by. The crafty Iroquois, though pretending peace, began building elm-bark canoes. Observing this Tonty sent word to the Illinois that their foes meant to follow them to their island; he counseled them to retire to some distant nation while they yet had time.

On the eighth day after the arrival of the Iroquois, their chiefs called Tonty and Father Z.enoble to council. Upon conclusion of the usual ceremonials, six packets of beaver skins were set before Tonty. Addressing him in the figurative speech which none knew how to employ to better advantage than the orators of the Five Nations, one of the chiefs explained their meaning:

The first two packets were "to inform M. de Frontenac that they would not eat his children and that he should not be angry at what they had done.

The third was a plaster for Tonty’s wound.

The fourth was some oil to rub on his and Father Zenoble’s limbs, on account of the long journeys they had taken.

The fifth that the sun was bright.

The sixth that the Frenchmen should profit by it and depart the next day for the French settlements.

Tonty received this polite invitation to depart with ill-concealed impatience. To leave the Iroquois to carry out their hostile intentions towards the Illinois meant the serious marring of the plan to establish a fortified chain of communication from Frontenac to the mouth of the great river, with the Indians of the country enroute as allies to maintain "French supremacy. Undaunted by his apparent helplessness, he boldly faced the chiefs and inquired when they, too, would go away.

"We will eat some of the Illinois first," said one of them, whose diplomacy evaporated before the heat of his fierce eagerness for battle.

Upon this Tonty rose from his place in the council ring.

"Since you desire to eat the children of the Governor," he said sternly, "I will have none of your presents," and with a vigorous kick he sent the packets of beaver skins tumbling in all directions.

In a rage at this contemptuous treatment, the chiefs drove Tonty f»om the council. In their cabin near the Indian fort, the Frenchmen barricaded themselves, determined to sell their lives as dearly as possible, for none of them expected to live out the night. Here they remained till daybreak, when, realizing the uselessness of further endangering the lives of himself and companions, Tonty directed the party to a canoe and they hastily departed — which they were enabled to do unmolested. The sufferings which they underwent and the fortitude they displayed in their Journey in search of relief at Green Bay scarcely finds a parallel in the history of the Northwest.

Historic Places in Tonty’s Career.

Niagara — -The Shipyard of the Griffon,'as Cyrus K Remington terms the spot where

Tonty built the pioneer vessel. Ft. Miarais — Base rf operations for La Salle

and Tonty’s two Mississippi expeditions. Washington Island. — The Island in Green

Bay whence thu Griffon sailed on her

disastrous voyage. Ft Crevecoeur. — The Fort of the Broken

Heart. Starved Rock. — Site of Tonty’s stronghold,

the For* of St. Louis on the Illinois. Michihraackinac. — French Post, where Ton*

ty and La Salle met after the great Iroquois raid. Old Biloxi — Where Tonty lies buried.