Note 125 — AN Historical Journal OF THE Late Monsieur de la Sale’s LAST VOYAGE INTO North America To Discover the River MISSISIPI. (continued 4)

The concealment of the fact of La Salle’s death, which was maintained by this party of survivors, until, and for some time after, their return to France, gave rise to an heroic manifestation of courage and friendship, by the Chevalier Tonti, who had been left in charge of Fort Louis on the Illinois.

Although they had been, on their journey northward, to Canada, the guests of that officer at Fort St. Louis, from September, 1687, till the end of February, 1688, they had made no disclosure of that fact. And, it was not until some months later, that Tonti heard of it, from the lips of one of his own men, Couture by name, who had been left at the Arkansas, and who had been told of it by the Abbe Cavelier himself. Meanwhile Tonti had received from and paid over to his reverend guest an order from La Salle for over 2,500 livres in beaver and supplies, on which money the party had made their further journey homeward.

Learning now, for the first time, with what grief and indignation we may well imagine, of the death of his beloved friend and chief; and also that the Arkansas Indians were anxious to join with the French in an invasion of Mexico—which information was also followed by an official notification from the Governor of Canada, that war had again been declared against Spain, Tonti decided to rescue, if possible, the remaining members of La Salle’s party on the Gulf coast; and, by making them the nucleus of a small army, to cross the Rio Grande, and thus win a new province for France.

Leaving the fort early in December, in a canoe, with five Frenchmen, an Indian warrior and two other Indians, he reached the home of the Caddoes in Red River, by the last of March, 1688, and was preparing to push on to a village eighty miles distant in search of Hiens and his companions, when he was left almost helpless by the refusal of all his men, except one Frenchman and the Indian warrior, to longer pursue the tiresome journey they had thus far made. But, with the two faithful ones, he pushed on, losing nearly all their ammunition in crossing a river, and finding, upon reaching the village where he had expected to find them, that they had been killed. As his ammunition was lost, and the Indians refused to furnish him guides, he could only return to the Arkansas country which he only reached by the end of July, after traversing a flooded country, in a ceaseless rain, sometimes by wading, sometimes by rafts, breaking their way with hatchets through the inundated cane brakes, and finally having to kill and eat their dogs. Even Tonti, the hero of many such emergencies of travel, confessed, “I never in my life suffered so much.” Then followed an attack of fever, after the abatement of which he arrived at his fort, in September, 1689. This heroic attempt marks, more distinctly than any other, the character of Tonti, who, in the language of the missionary, St. Cosmo, who traveled under his escort in 1699, was “beloved by all voyageurs—the man who best knows the country—he is loved and feared everywhere.” Tonti was a robust man in appearance, and had (as has been already said) but one hand, but he truly had a great soul within him—Courageous, generous and loyal. Though holding a captain’s commission, he had, as late as 1690, never received any pay; but in that year the proprietorship of the Fort St. Louis of the Illinois was granted to him jointly with La Forest, La Salle’s then lieutenant—and there they carried on a fur trade; and in 1699, they were granted further privileges of trade, by a royal proclamation. In 1702, a royal order assigned La Forest to Canada, and Tonti to residence on the Mississippi. Tonti, in that year, joined D’Iberville in Lower Louisiana, and was by him sent to secure the alliance of the Chickasaws. His after career or the time of his death are unknown.

Never were mutiny, conspiracy and assassination more signally and justly followed by retribution than in the fate of these miscreants who had murdered La Salle—as graphically portrayed by Parkman (La Salle & the Discovery of the Great West, ii, pp. 212–216. Champlain edition.) Exiled, by their own deeds, from Canada; in fear of their Spanish neighbors, whose dominion they had invaded, they were finally overwhelmed by an Indian attack, many of them butchered and the fort laid waste. Compulsory domestication among their savage captors was the fate of the rest; and when, in 1689 the Spanish general Alonzo de Leon visited the ruined fort of St. Louis in Texas, they were handed over to him, and expiated their sins in the naval service or prisons of Spain.