CHAPTER IX.
Changes produced in the navigation of the Mississippi since the introduction of Steam—Arrival at Kaskaskia—The Canadians and Indians—Singular meeting with a young Indian educated among the Whites, and returned to savage life—Indian Ballad—State of Illinois—Departure from Kaskaskia—Separation of General Lafayette and the Louisiana deputation.
Governor Coles, who had embarked with us, requested of General Lafayette and obtained his consent, that he would not leave the river Mississippi without visiting the state of Illinois, along which we were to pass in descending the river. It was decided that we should stop at Kaskaskia, a large village of that state, and, although nearly eighty miles distant, we arrived there a little while before noon, so fortunate and rapid was our navigation. Since the application of steam to navigation, the changes produced in the relations of the towns on the Mississippi is prodigious. Formerly the voyage from New Orleans to St. Louis required three or four months of the most painful toil that can be imagined; the action of the oar was not always sufficient to overcome the resistance of the current. They were often obliged to warp the boat by hand, advancing from time to time with a small boat to tie a rope to a tree or stone on the shore.[14]This slow and painful operation, the consequent privations and bad diet, caused diseases among the boatmen, which ordinarily destroyed one third of the crew. At present the same passage which is nearly fifteen hundred miles, is made in ten days, without fatigue, without privations, between a good bed and a good table, and often in very good company; the return is commonly made in five days; so thatNew Orleans and St. Louis, separated by so great a distance, are now considered as neighbouring cities, whose inhabitants are better acquainted and visit each other oftener than those of Paris and Bordeaux can do.
General Lafayette was not expected at Kaskaskia, and nothing had been prepared for this unforeseen visit. While we were landing some one ran to the village, which stands a quarter of a mile from the shore, and quickly returned with a carriage for the general, who, an instant after, was surrounded by many citizens, who ran before to receive him. In the escort which formed itself to accompany him, we saw neither military apparel nor the splendid triumphs we had perceived in the rich cities; but the accents of joy and republican gratitude which broke upon his ear, was grateful to his heart, since it proved to him that wherever American liberty had penetrated, there also the love and veneration of the people for its founders were perpetuated.
We followed the general on foot, and arrived almost at the same time at the house of General Edgar, a venerable soldier of the revolution, who received him with affectionate warmth, and ordered all the doors to be kept open, that his fellow citizens might enjoy, as well as himself, the pleasure of shaking hands with the adopted son of America. After a few minutes had been accorded to the rather tumultuous expression of the sentiments which the presence of the general inspired, Governor Coles requested silence, which was accorded with a readiness and deference that proved to me that his authority rested not only on the law, but still more on popular affection. He advanced towards Lafayette, about whom the crowd had increased, and addressed him with emotion in a discourse in which he depicted the transports his presence excited in the population of the state of Illinois, and the happy influence which the remembrance of his visit would produce hereafter on the youthful witnesses of the enthusiasm of their fathers, for one of the most valiant founders of their liberty.
During an instant of profound silence, I cast a glance at the assembly, in the midst of which I found myself, and was struck with astonishment in remarking their variety and fantastic appearance. Beside men whose dignity of countenance,the patriotic exaltation of expression, readily indicated them to be Americans, were others whose coarse dresses, vivacity, petulance of movement, and the expansive joy of their visages, strongly recalled to me the peasantry of my own country; behind these, near to the door, and on the piazza which surrounded the house, stood some immovable, impassable, large, red, half naked figures, leaning on a bow or a long rifle: these were the Indians of the neighbourhood.
After a pause of some seconds, the governor resumed his address, which he concluded by presenting, with great eloquence, a faithful picture of the benefits which America had derived from its liberty, and the happy influence which republican institutions would one day exercise on the rest of the world. When the orator had finished, a slight murmur of approbation passed through the assembly, and was prolonged until it was perceived that General Lafayette was about to reply, when an attentive silence was restored.
After these reciprocal felicitations, another scene not less interesting commenced. Some old revolutionary soldiers advanced from the crowd, and came to shake hands with their old general; while he conversed with them, and heard them, with softened feelings, cite the names of those of their ancient companions in arms, who also fought at Brandywine and Yorktown, but for whom it was not ordained to enjoy the fruits of their toils, nor to unite their voices with that of their grateful country. The persons whom I had remarked as having some likeness in dress and manners to our French peasants, went and came with vivacity in all parts of the hall, or sometimes formed little groups, from the midst of which could be heard, in the French language, the most open and animated expressions of joy. Having been introduced to one of these groups by a member of the committee of Kaskaskia, I was received at first with great kindness, and was quickly overwhelmed with a volley of questions, as soon as they found I was a Frenchman, and accompanied general Lafayette. “What! are you also come from France? Give us then some news from that fine, that dear country. Are people happy there? Are they free as they are here? Ah! what pleasure to see our good Frenchmen fromgrand France!” and the questionsfollowed with such rapidity, that I knew not which to understand. I was not long in perceiving that these good men were as ignorant of the things which concerned their mother country, as they were enthusiastic. They are acquainted with France only by tradition from the reign of Louis XIV. and they have no idea of the convulsions which, during the last forty years, have torn the country of their fathers. “Have you not had,” said one of them to me, who had just asked me many questions about General Lafayette, which would not have been asked by an American child ten years of age, “have you not had another famous general, called Napoleon, who has made many glorious wars?” I think if Napoleon had heard such a question asked, his vanity would have been somewhat shocked by it. He, who believed he filled the universe with his name, because he had overturned some old thrones of Europe, and destroyed the liberty of France, was yet hardly known on the banks of the Mississippi; not more than two thousand leagues from the theatre of his glory, his name is pronounced with an expression of doubt! Indeed, there is in this something to damp the most ardent passion for celebrity: I did my best to reply to the question of my Canadian, to make him comprehend, as well as those who surrounded him, who was thisfamous General Napoleon. At the recital of his exploits, they at first clapped their hands, and assumed an air of superiority, in saying, “These are our brave Frenchmen. It is only among them that men like these are to be found!” But when I came to tell them how this famous general caused himself to be made consul; how he made himself emperor; how he had successively destroyed our liberty, and paralyzed the exercise of our rights; how, finally, he had himself fallen, leaving us, after twenty years of war, nearly at the same point whence we had started at the commencement of our revolution, they all became sad as if about to weep, and exclaimed: “And you have suffered all that! How, in beautiful France, and grand France, are they not free as in the state of Illinois? Good heavens! is it possible? What, can you not write whatever you please? Cannot you go every where without passports? Is it not you who nominate the mayors of your towns and villages? Is it not you who choose your governors, or your prefects of departments or provinces? Haveyou not the right to elect your representatives to the national assembly? Are none of you called to the election of the chief of the government, although you pay the whole of such heavy taxes? Alas! our good Frenchmen of grand France are then more to be pitied than the negro slaves of Louisiana, who are, indeed, miserable enough! for if these exercise none of the rights which we all exercise here, they at least pay no money, and have masters that support them.” During these exclamations, I did not know what to say. The colour mounted to my cheeks, and I confess that my national vanity suffered singularly to hear ignorant Canadians express sentiments of pity for my countrymen, and draw a parallel to their disadvantage between them and miserable slaves; but these sentiments were too well founded to admit of my complaining, and I was silent. I only made a promise to myself to be more discreet for the future, and not to speak with so much freedom of the political situation of my country before freemen.
While I was occupied with the Canadians, the crowd, influenced by a feeling of delicacy and kind attention, insensibly withdrew, to leave General Lafayette time to take a few moments’ repose while waiting for the banquet which the citizens had hastily prepared. Wishing to profit by the short time we had to remain at Kaskaskia, Mr. George Lafayette and myself went out to view the environs of the village, in company with some of the inhabitants, and left the general with our other travelling companions and some old revolutionary soldiers, at Colonel Edgar’s. At the public square we found nearly all the citizens walking about, and joyously conversing upon the event of the day. We found in their groups the same variety of physiognomy that had struck me in the hall. While Mr. George gathered from an American, the details of the origin and present situation of Kaskaskia, I approached a small circle of Indians, in the centre of which was a man of high stature and singular aspect. His face, without being coppery like that of the Indians, was still very swarthy. His short dress, his long belt, to which hung a powder-horn, his long leather leggings, extending above his knees, and all his equipage, announced a hunter of the forest. He was leaning on a long rifle, and appeared to inspire by his discourse a lively interest in his hearers. When he observed me, hecame to me without forwardness, but with marked kindness. He extended his hand, and I gave him mine, which he shook cordially. I had a moment’s hesitation in addressing him, not knowing whether he understood English or French; but he spoke to me first in French, and I soon found myself quite at ease with him. He informed me that he was of mixed blood, that his mother was of the Kickapoos tribe, and that his father was a Canadian. He lives among the Indians of the neighbourhood, who have a great friendship and respect for him, because, notwithstanding fifty years and fatigue have begun to whiten his head, he yet equals them in hunting and all the exercises of the body, and because he often serves them as a mediator between them and the whites, whose language he perfectly understands, although his common language is Indian. Those who surrounded him were not all similarly clothed, nor similarly painted. It was easy to distinguish some differences in their features and manners. I concluded that they were not all of the same tribe. The hunter confirmed me in this opinion by telling me that at this moment, there were about Kaskaskia three or four camps of Indians, come to sell the furs obtained by their great hunting during the winter. He named the different tribes who occupied the camps; but their names were so barbarous, or so badly pronounced, that I could not comprehend them; I understood distinctly only that ofMiami, which, repeated three or four times, roused from his apathy a little man, who until then stood motionless before me, wrapped in a blanket; his face, bloated by intemperance, was painted red, blue, and yellow. At the name of Miami, he raised his head, assumed an air of ridiculous dignity, and said, “I should be the chief of the Miami nation. My grandfather was chief, my father was chief; but the Miami have unjustly decided that I should not succeed my father, and now, instead of having a great quantity of furs to sell, I have none; I shall quit Kaskaskia without being able to buy arms, powder, or tobacco.” While he thus spoke, a man painted in the same way, but of a very lofty stature and athletic form, regarded him with a disdainful air, and said, after tapping him on the shoulder, “Dare you to complain of the justice of the Miami? Thy grandfather was our chief, sayest thou? thy father was also? But hast thouthen forgotten that thy grandfather was the bravest of our warriors, and that the wisdom of thy father was heard in our councils as the voice of the Great Spirit? But, by what title wouldst thou command among men? Feeble as an old woman, thou hast not even the courage to hunt to satisfy thy wants, and thou wouldst sell us to the whites for a bottle of whiskey.” A contemptuous gesture terminated this rude apostrophe, which was translated into French for me at the time by the stout hunter; and the fallen prince, sadly leaning on a small bow, similar to those with which the Indian boys exercise, kept silence. His fate seemed to me truly deserving of pity; I could not, however, avoid feeling a sentiment of esteem for the Miami nation, who do not believe that legitimacy in a prince can supply the place of all the virtues.
I was still among the Indians, questioning the hunter as to the situation and force of their tribes, which civilization is rapidly diminishing, when I saw the secretary of the governor of Louisiana, Mr. Caire, approach, who came to propose that I should go with him to visit an Indian encampment, at a very short distance from the village. I consented, and we set off immediately, in order to return by the dinner hour. Leaving Kaskaskia, we crossed a river of the same name, on a wooden bridge solidly built and firmly connected. We then marched about twenty minutes on the plain, to the entrance of a forest, which we penetrated by a straight path traced along a rivulet. As we advanced, the ground suddenly elevated itself to the right and left, and we quickly found ourselves in a kind of pass, formed by a succession of small hills, covered with thickets. After about a quarter of an hour’s walk, we arrived at a fence, which we climbed, and behind which two horses attracted our attention by the noise of the bells hung round their necks. A little further on, the pass enlarging, formed a delightful little valley, in the middle of which some huts of bark were raised in a half circle; this was the Indian camp we sought. The openings of these huts were all towards the centre of the circle, and the planks elevated about three feet from the ground, were slightly inclined, like the cover of a field bed. With the exception of a very old woman cooking at a fire in the open air, we found no person in the camp. Either fromspite, or because she neither comprehended French nor English, this woman would reply to none of our questions, and saw us with the greatest indifference, look at, and even handle, all the objects which attracted our curiosity in the huts. All was arranged with sufficient order, and it was easy to recognize the places occupied by the women, by the little utensils of the toilet, such as looking-glasses, pins, bags of paint, &c. which we remarked there. After a minute examination of this little camp, we were about to leave it, when I was arrested on the border of the streamlet which ran through it, by the sight of a small mill-wheel, which appeared to have been thrown on the bank by the rapidity of the current. I took it up and placed it where I thought it had originally been put by the children, on two stones elevated a little above the water; and the current striking the wings, made it turn rapidly. This puerility, (which probably would have passed from my memory, if, on the same evening, it had not placed me before the Indians, in a situation sufficiently extraordinary,) greatly excited the attention of the old woman, who, by her gestures, expressed to us a lively satisfaction.
On returning to Kaskaskia, we found Mr. de Syon, an amiable young Frenchman of much intelligence, who, on the invitation of General Lafayette, left Washington city with us to visit the southern and western states. Like us he had just made an excursion into the neighbourhood, and appeared quite joyous at the discovery he had made; he had met, in the midst of the forest, at the head of a troop of Indians, a pretty young woman, who spoke French very well, and expressed herself with a grace at which he appeared as much astonished as we were. She had asked him if it was true, that Lafayette was at Kaskaskia, and on his replying affirmatively, she manifested a great desire to see him. “I always carry with me,” said she to Mr. de Syon, “a relique, that is very dear to me; I would wish to show it to him; it will prove to him that his name is not less venerated in the midst of our tribes, than among the white Americans, for whom he fought.” And in speaking thus, she drew from her bosom a little pouch which enclosed a letter carefully wrapped in several pieces of paper. “It is from Lafayette,” said she, “he wrote it to my father a long time since, and my father, when he died, left it to meas the most precious thing he possessed.” At the sight of this letter, Mr. de Syon proposed to the Indian girl to go with him to Kaskaskia, assuring her that General Lafayette would be very much pleased to see her; but this proposition seemed to embarrass her, and under various pretexts, she refused to come. “However,” she added, “if you have any thing to say to me this evening, you will find me in my camp, which is close by the village; any one can direct you the way, for I am well known at Kaskaskia. My name is Mary.”
This recital of Mr. de Syon excited my curiosity keenly, and I would have willingly returned with him immediately to search for Mary; but, at this moment, a member of the committee of Kaskaskia came to inform me that they were about to sit down to dinner, and we saw General Lafayette going out of Colonel Edgar’s, escorted by many citizens and crossing to Colonel Sweet’s house where we were to dine. We joined the procession and took our places at table, where the general was seated under a canopy of flowers prepared by the ladies of Kaskaskia, with much skill and taste; and which produced, by the blending of the richest and most lively colours, the effect of a rainbow.
I spoke to General Lafayette of the meeting with the young Indian girl; and from the desire he manifested to see her, I left the table with Mr. de Syon, at the moment when the company began to exchange patriotic toasts, and we sought a guide to Mary’s camp. Chance assisted us wonderfully, in directing us to an Indian of the same tribe that we wished to visit. Conducted by him, we crossed the bridge of Kaskaskia, and notwithstanding the darkness, soon recognized the path and rivulet I had seen in the morning with Mr. Caire. When we were about to enter the enclosure, we were arrested by the fierce barking of two stout dogs which sprang at, and would probably have bitten us, but for the timely interference of our guide. We arrived at the middle of the camp, which was lighted by a large fire, around which a dozen Indians were squatted, preparing their supper; they received us with cordiality, and, as soon as they were informed of the object of our visit, one of them conducted us to Mary’s hut, whom we found sleeping on a bison skin. At the voice of Mr. de Syon,which she recognized, she arose, and listened attentively to the invitation from General Lafayette to come to Kaskaskia; she seemed quite flattered by it, but said before deciding to accompany us she wished to mention it to her husband. While she was consulting with him, I heard a piercing cry; and turning round I saw near me the old woman I had found alone in the camp in the morning: she had just recognized me by the light of the fire, and designated me to her companions, who, quitting immediately their occupations, rushed round me in a circle, and began to dance with demonstrations of great joy and gratitude. Their tawny and nearly naked bodies, their faces fantastically painted, their expressive gesticulations, the reflection of the fire, which gave a red tinge to all the surrounding objects, every thing gave to this scene something of an infernal aspect, and I fancied myself for an instant in the midst of demons. Mary, witnessing my embarrassment, put an end to it, by ordering the dance to cease, and then explained to me thehonourswhich they had just rendered me. “When we wish to know if an enterprize we meditate will be happy, we place in a rivulet a small wheel slightly supported on two stones; if the wheel turns during three suns, without being thrown down, the augury is favourable: but if the current carry it away, and throws it upon the bank, it is a certain proof that our project is not approved by the Great Spirit, unless however a stranger comes to replace the little wheel before the end of the third day. You are this stranger who have restored ourmanitouand our hopes, and this is your title to be thus celebrated among us.” In pronouncing these last words, an ironical smile played on her lips, which caused me to doubt her faith in themanitou. “You do not appear to be very much convinced,” said I to her, “of the efficacy of the service which I have rendered you in raising themanitou?” She silently shook her head; then raising her eyes, “I have been taught,” said she, “to place my confidence higher;—all my hopes are in the God I have been taught to believe in; the God of the Christians.”
I had at first been much astonished to hear an Indian woman speak French so well, and I was not less so in learning that she was a Christian; Mary perceived it, and to put an end to my surprise, she related to me her history, whileher husband, and those who were to accompany her to Kaskaskia, hastily took their supper, of maize cooked in milk. She informed me that her father, who was a chief of one of the nations who inhabited the shores of the great lakes of the north, had formerly fought with a hundred of his followers under the orders of Lafayette, when the latter commanded an army on the frontiers. That he had acquired much glory, and gained the friendship of the Americans. A long time after, that is, about twenty years ago, he left the shores of the great lakes with some of his warriors, his wife and daughter; and after having marched a long time, he established himself on the shores of the river Illinois. “I was very young, then, but have not yet, however, forgotten the horrible sufferings we endured during this long journey, made in a rigorous winter, across a country peopled by nations with whom we were unacquainted; they were such, that my poor mother, who nearly always carried me on her shoulders, already well loaded with baggage, died under them some days after our arrival; my father placed me under the care of another woman, who also emigrated with us, and occupied himself in securing the tranquil possession of the lands on which we had come to establish ourselves, by forming alliances with our new neighbours. The Kickapoos were those who received us best, and we soon considered ourselves as forming a part of their nation. The year following my father was chosen by them, with some from among themselves, to go and regulate some affairs of the nation with the agent of the United States, residing here at Kaskaskia; he wished that I should be of the company; for, although the Kickapoos had shown themselves very generous and hospitable towards him, he feared that some war might break out in his absence, as he well knew the intrigues of the English to excite the Indians against the Americans. This same apprehension induced him to accede to the request made by the American agent, to leave me in his family, to be educated with his infant daughter. My father had much esteem for the whites of that great nation for whom he had formerly fought; he never had cause to complain of them, and he who offered to take charge of me inspired him with great confidence by the frankness of his manners, and above all, by the fidelity with which he treated the affairs of the Indians; he, therefore,left me, promising to return to see me every year after the great winter’s hunt; he came, in fact, several times afterwards; and I, notwithstanding the disagreeableness of a sedentary life, grew up, answering the expectations of my careful benefactor and his wife. I became attached to their daughter, who grew up with me, and the truths of the Christian religion easily supplanted in my mind the superstition of my fathers, whom I had scarcely known; yet, I confess to you, notwithstanding the influence of religion and civilization on my youthful heart, the impressions of infancy were not entirely effaced. If the pleasure of wandering conducted me into the shady forest, I breathed more freely, and it was with reluctance that I returned home; when, in the cool of the evening, seated in the door of my adopted father’s habitation, I heard in the distance, through the silence of the night, the piercing voice of the Indians, rallying to return to camp, I started with a thrill of joy, and my feeble voice imitated the voice of the savage with a facility that affrighted my young companion; and when occasionally some warriors came to consult my benefactor in regard to their treaties, or hunters to offer him a part of the produce of their chase, I was always the first to run to meet and welcome them; I testified my joy to them by every imaginable means, and I could not avoid admiring and wishing for their simple ornaments, which appeared to me far preferable to the brilliant decorations of the whites.
“In the meanwhile, for five years my father had not appeared at the period of the return from the winter’s hunting; but a warrior, whom I had often seen with him, came and found me one evening at the entrance of the forest, and said to me: ‘Mary, thy father is old and feeble, he has been unable to follow us here; but he wishes to see thee once more before he dies, and he has charged me to conduct thee to him.’ In saying these words he forcibly took my hand, and dragged me with him. I had not even time to reply to him, nor even to take any resolution, before we were at a great distance, and I saw well that there was no part left for me, but to follow him. We marched nearly all night, and at the dawn of day, we arrived at a bark hut, built in the middle of a little valley. Here I saw my father, his eyes turned towards the just rising sun. His face was painted as for battle. His tomahawk ornamented withmany scalps, was beside him; he was calm and silent as an Indian who awaited death. As soon as he saw me he drew out of a pouch a paper wrapped with care in a very dry skin, and gave it me, requesting that I should preserve it as a most precious thing. ‘I wished to see thee once more before dying,’ said he, ‘and to give thee this paper, which is the most powerful charm (manitou) which thou canst employ with the whites to interest them in thy favour; for all those to whom I have shown it have manifested towards me a particular attachment. I received it from a great French warrior, whom the English dreaded as much as the Americans loved, and with whom I fought in my youth.’ After these words my father was silent, next morning he expired. Sciakape, the name of the warrior who came for me, covered the body of my father with the branches of trees, and took me back to my guardian.”
Here Mary suspended her narrative, and presented to me a letter a little darkened by time, but in good preservation. “Stay,” said she to me, smiling, “you see that I have faithfully complied with the charge of my father; I have taken great care of hismanitou.” I opened the letter and recognized the signature and handwriting of General Lafayette. It was dated at head quarters, Albany, June, 1778, after the northern campaign, and addressed to Panisciowa, an Indian chief of one of the Six Nations, to thank him for the courageous manner in which he had served the American cause.
“Well,” said Mary, “now that you know me well enough to introduce me to General Lafayette, shall we go to him that I may also greet him whom my father revered as the courageous warrior and the friend of our nations?” “Willingly,” I replied, “but it seems to me that you have promised to inform us in what manner, after having tasted for some time the sweets of civilization, you came to return to the rude and savage life of the Indians?” At this question, Mary looked downwards and seemed troubled. However, after a slight hesitation, she resumed in a lower tone: “After the death of my father, Sciakape often returned to see me. We soon became attached to each other; he did not find it difficult to determine me to follow him into the forest, where I became his wife. This resolution at first very much afflicted my benefactors; butwhen they saw that I found myself happy, they pardoned me; and each year, during all the time that our encampment is established near Kaskaskia, I rarely pass a day without going to see them; if you wish, we can visit them, for their house is close by our way, and you will see by the reception they will give me, that they retain their esteem and friendship.” Mary pronounced these last words with a degree of pride, which proved to us that she feared that we might have formed a bad opinion of her, on account of her flight from the home of her benefactors with Sciakape. We accepted her proposition, and she gave the signal for departure. At her call, her husband and eight warriors presented themselves to escort us. M. de Syon offered her his arm, and we began our march. We were all very well received by the family of Mr. Mesnard; but Mary above all received the most tender marks of affection from the persons of the household. Mr. Mesnard, Mary’s adopted father, was at Kaskaskia, as one of the committee charged with the reception of Lafayette, and Mrs. Mesnard asked us if we would undertake to conduct her daughter to the ball which she herself was prevented from attending by indisposition. We assented with pleasure; and, while Mary assisted Miss Mesnard to complete her toilet, we seated ourselves round a great fire in the kitchen. Scarcely were we seated, when I saw moving in the corner, a black mass, of which I had at first a difficulty in recognising the nature and form; but, after an attentive examination, I found it was an old negro doubled by age. His face was so much wrinkled and deformed by time, that it was impossible to distinguish in it a single feature, and I guessed the place of his mouth by the little cloud of tobacco-smoke which escaped thence, from time to time. This man appeared to give great attention to the conversation which took place between us and a young man of Mr. Mesnard’s family; when he understood that we travelled with General Lafayette, and that we came from St. Louis, he asked if we had found many Frenchmen there. I replied that we had seen some, and, among others, Mr. Choteau, the founder of the town. “What!” cried he with a loud voice, which seemed not to belong to so decrepid a body—“What! you found thelittle Choteau? Oh! I know him well, so I do, that littleChoteau; we have travelled a great deal together on the Mississippi, and that at a time when very few of the whites had come this far.” “But do you know,” said I, “that he whom you call the little Choteau is very old, that he is certainly more than ninety years of age?” “Oh! I believe that well! but what of that? that does not prevent that I should know him well, when a child.” “Of what age are you, then?” “Of that I know nothing, as they never taught me to count. All that I know is, that I left New Orleans with my master, who made part of the expedition sent by the Navigation Company of the Mississippi, under the orders of the young Choteau, to go and build a fort high up the river. Young Choteau was hardly seventeen, but he was commander of the expedition, because his father was, they said, one of the richest proprietors of the company. After having rowed a long time against the current and suffered great fatigue, we arrived at last not far from here, where we set about building Fort Chartres. It seems as if I was now there; I see from here the great stones which bore the great arches we built. Every one of us said, ‘Here is a fort will last longer than us all, and longer than our children.’ I also believed it well, and yet I have seen the last of it; for it is now in ruins, and I am yet living. Do you know, sir, how many years it is since we built Fort Chartres?” “At least eighty years, if I am not deceived.” “Well, count, and you will know very nearly my age. I was then at least thirty years old, for the little Choteau appeared to me a child; I have already served three masters, and I have suffered a great deal.” “According to that account, you are a hundred and ten years old, Daddy Francis.” “Yes, indeed, I believe I am at the least that, for it is a long time that I have laboured and suffered.” “How!” said the young man who was seated near him, “do you suffer now, Francis?” “Oh! pardon me, sir, I speak not of the time I have lived in this house. Since I belonged to Mr. Mesnard it is very different; I am now happy. Instead of serving others, they all serve me. Mr. Mesnard will not even allow me to go and bring in a little wood for the fire; he says I am too old for that. But I must tell the truth, Mr. Mesnard is not a master to me; he is a man—he is a friend.”
This homage of the old slave, rendered to the humanityof his master, gave us a high idea of the character of Mr. Mesnard. While we were yet listening to old Francis, Mary and Miss Mesnard came to inform us that they were ready, and asked us if we would be on our way, as it began to grow late. We took leave of Mrs. Mesnard, and found our Indian escort who had waited patiently for us at the door, and who resumed their position near us at some distance in front, to guide and protect our march, as if we had been crossing an enemy’s country. The night was quite dark, but the temperature was mild, and the fire-flies illuminated the atmosphere around us. M. de Syon conducted Miss Mesnard, and I gave my arm to Mary, who, notwithstanding the darkness, walked with a confidence and lightness which only a forest life could produce. The fire-flies attracted and interested me much; for, although this was not the first time I had observed them, I had never before seen them in such numbers. I asked Mary if these insects, which from their appearance seem so likely to astonish the imagination, had never given place among the Indians to popular beliefs or tales. “Not among the nations of these countries, where every year we are familiarised with their great numbers,” said she to me, “but I have heard that among the tribes of the north, they commonly believe that they are the souls of departed friends, who return to console them or demand the performance of some promise. I even know several ballads on this subject. One of them appears to have been made a long time since, in a nation which lives farther north and no longer exists. It is by songs that great events and popular traditions are ordinarily preserved among us, and this ballad, which I have often heard sung by the young girls of our tribe, leaves no doubt as to the belief of some Indians concerning the fire-fly.” I asked her to sing me this song, which she did with much grace. Although I did not comprehend the words, which were Indian, I observed a great harmony in their arrangement, and, in the very simple music in which they were sung, an expression of deep melancholy.
When she had finished the ballad, I asked her if she could not translate it for me into French, so that I might comprehend the sense. “With difficulty,” she said, “for I have always found great obstacles to translating exactlythe expressions of our Indians into French, when I have served them as interpreter with the whites; but I will try.” And she translated nearly as follows:
“The rude season of the chase was over. Antakaya, the handsomest, the most skilful, and bravest of the Cherokee warriors, came to the banks of the Avolachy, where he was expected by Manahella, the young virgin promised to his love and bravery.
“The first day of the moon of flowers was to witness their union. Already had the two families, assembled round the same fire, given their assent; already had the young men and women prepared and ornamented the new cabin, which was to receive the happy couple, when, at the rising of the sun, a terrible cry, the cry of war, sent forth by the scout who always watches at the summit of the hill, called the old men to the council, and the warriors to arms.
“The whites appeared on the frontier. Murder and robbery accompanied them. The star of fertility had not reached its noontide height, and already Antakaya had departed at the head of his warriors to repel robbery, murder, and the whites.
“Go, said Manahella to him, endeavouring to stifle her grief, go fight the cruel whites, and I will pray to the Great Spirit to wrap thee with a cloud, proof against their blows. I will pray him to bring thee back to the banks of the Avolachy, there to be loved by Manahella.
“I will return to thee, replied Antakaya, I will return to thee. My arrows have never disappointed my aim, my tomahawk shall be bathed in the blood of the whites; I will bring back their scalps to ornament the door of thy cabin; then I shall be worthy of Manahella; then shall we love in peace, then shall we be happy.
“The first day of the moon of flowers had brightly dawned, and many more had passed away, and none had heard from Antakaya and his warriors. Stooping on the shores of the Avolachy, the mournful Manahella every evening raised to the evil spirits little pyramids of polished pebbles, to appease their anger and avert their resistance to her well beloved; but the evil spirits were inflexible, and their violent blasts overthrew the little pyramids.
“One evening of the last moon of flowers, Manahella met on the banks of the river a pale and bloody warrior. ‘Die,poor ivy,’ said he to Manahella; ‘die! the noblest oak of the forest, that proud oak under whose shade thou hoped to enjoy repose and happiness, is fallen! It has fallen under the redoubled strokes of the whites. In its fall it has crushed those who felled it, but it is fallen! Die, poor ivy, die! for the oak which was to give thee support is fallen!’—Two days after, Manahella was no more.
“Antakaya, whose courage had been deceived by fate, had fallen covered with wounds into the hands of the whites, who carried him far away. But he escaped; and after wandering long through the forest, he returned to mourn his defeat and meditate vengeance with Manahella. When he arrived, she was no more. Agitated by the most violent despair, he ran in the evening to the banks of the Avolachy, calling Manahella, but the echo alone replied to the accents of his grief.
“O Manahella! he exclaimed, if my arrows have disappointed my skill, if my tomahawk has not spilt the blood of the whites, if I have not brought thee their scalps to ornament the door of thy cabin, forgive me! It is not the fault of my courage, the evil spirits have fought against me. And yet I have suffered no complaint to escape me, not a sigh, when the iron of my enemies tore my breast; I have not abased myself by asking my life! They preserved it against my will, and I am only consoled by the hope of one day avenging myself, and offering thee many of their scalps. O Manahella! come, if but to tell me that thou pardonest me, and that thou permittest me to follow thee into the world of the Great Spirit.
“At the same instant a vivid light, pure and lambent, appeared to the eyes of the unfortunate Antakaya. He saw in it the soul of his beloved, and followed it through the valley during all the night, supplicating it to stay and to pardon him. At the dawn of the day he found himself on the border of a great lake; the light had disappeared, and he believed that it had passed over the water. Immediately, although feeble and fatigued, he made a canoe of the trunk of a tree which he hollowed, and with a branch he made a paddle. At the end of the day his work was achieved. With the darkness the deceptive light returned; and during all the night Antakaya pursued the delusion on the face of the unsteady waters. But it again disappearedbefore the light of the sun, and with it vanished the slight breath of hope and the life of Antakaya.”
Mary ended her ballad, and I expressed to her my thanks as we arrived at the bridge of Kaskaskia. There, Sciakape collected his escort, said a few words to his wife, and left us to enter the village alone. We approached the house of Mr. Morrison, at which the ball was given to General Lafayette. I then felt that Mary trembled; her trouble was so great that she could not conceal it from me. I asked her the cause. If you would spare me a great mortification, she said, you will not conduct me among the ladies of Kaskaskia. They are now without doubt in their most brilliant dresses, and the coarseness of my clothes will inspire them with contempt and pity, two sentiments which will equally affect me. Besides I know that they blame me for having renounced the life of the whites, and I feel little at ease in their presence. I promised what she desired, and she became reassured. Arrived at Mr. Morrison’s, I conducted her into a lower chamber, and went to the hall to inform General Lafayette that the young Indian girl awaited him below. He hastened down, and several of the committee with him. He saw and heard Mary with pleasure, and could not conceal his emotion on recognizing his letter, and observing with what holy veneration it had been preserved during nearly half a century in a savage nation, among whom he had not even supposed his name had ever penetrated. On her part, the daughter of Panisciowa expressed with vivacity the happiness she enjoyed in seeing him, along with whom her father had the honour to fight for thegood American cause.
After a half hour’s conversation, in which General Lafayette was pleased to relate the evidences of the fidelity and courageous conduct of some Indian nations towards the Americans, during the revolutionary war, Mary manifested a wish to retire, and I accompanied her to the bridge, where I replaced her under the care of Sciakape and his escort, and bade them farewell.
At midnight, the general received the farewell of the ladies and citizens of Kaskaskia, who were assembled at Mr. Morrison’s, and we returned on board our boat, to continue immediately our navigation towards the mouth of the Ohio. Governor Coles greatly wished that weshould cross that part of the state of Illinois comprised in the angle formed by the two great rivers, and meet the boat again at Shawneetown, where we should have been able to visit the salt mines, which are said to be very fine; but besides that this would have taken more time than he could devote to this visit, this route did not accord with the plan of ascending the Cumberland river to Nashville, where the envoys from Tennessee were charged to conduct him. Mr. Coles embarked with us to accompany the general to the state of Tennessee, and we felt a real pleasure on account of it, for he is a man of agreeable conversation and extraordinary merit. All persons agree in saying that he fulfils his duties as governor with as much philanthropy as justice. He owes his elevation to the office of governor, to his opinions on the abolition of the slavery of the blacks. He was originally a proprietor in Virginia, where, according to the custom of the country, he cultivated his lands by negro slaves. After having for a long time strongly expressed his aversion for this kind of culture, he thought it his duty to put in practice the principles he had professed, and he decided to give liberty to all his slaves; but knowing that their emancipation in Virginia would be more injurious than useful to them, he took them all with him into the state of Illinois, where he not only gave them their liberty, but also established them at his own expense, in such a manner that they should be able to procure for themselves a happy existence by their labour. This act of justice and humanity considerably diminished his fortune, but occasioned him no regrets. At this period, some men, led astray by ancient prejudices, endeavoured to amend that article of the constitution of the state of Illinois, which prohibits slavery: Mr. Coles opposed these men with all the ardour of his philanthropic soul, and with all the superiority of his enlightened mind. In this honourable struggle, he was sustained by the people of Illinois; justice and humanity triumphed, and soon after Mr. Coles was elected governor, by an immense majority. This was an honourable recompense, and to this there is now joined another which must be very grateful to him; his liberated negroes are perfectly successful, and afford a conclusive argument against the adversaries of emancipation.
Some hours after our departure from Kaskaskia, wewere at the mouth of the Ohio, which we ascended to the mouth of Cumberland river, where we arrived before night. There we awaited the steam-boat Artizan, to take us to Nashville. When it was necessary for us to quit the Natchez, and our travelling companions from Louisiana, we experienced an oppression of feeling as if we were quitting our family and home. This feeling will be easily comprehended, when it is understood that we had passed nearly a month and travelled nearly eighteen hundred miles on board this boat, in the midst of a society, amiable, intelligent, and obliging, and of which each individual had become for us an amiable friend. On their side, Messieurs Morse, Ducros, Prieur, and Caire, manifested to us regrets not less sincere. Notwithstanding their long absence from New Orleans, they would have voluntarily prolonged their mission, to pass a longer time with their dear Lafayette; and our excellent Captain Davis warmly expressed his regrets at seeing another vessel than his own about to receive the nation’s guest; but on the other hand, the envoys from Tennessee were not disposed to cede to others the right of doing the honours of their state; and even if they had chosen to accept the services of Captain Davis, they were forced to renounce them, because the Natchez was unfit to navigate the shallow waters of the Cumberland. We were, therefore, obliged to take leave of the Louisianian committee, and that of the state of Mississippi, with great regret, and go on board of the Artizan, where we were received and treated in a manner that foretold we would soon experience a renewal of our sorrow in separating from our new companions.