DEPARTURE.—QUARRELS WITH BEAUJEU.—ST. DOMINGO.—LA SALLE ATTACKED WITH FEVER.—HIS DESPERATE CONDITION.—THE GULF OF MEXICO.—A FATAL ERROR.—LANDING.—WRECK OF THE "AIMABLE."—INDIAN ATTACK.—TREACHERY OF BEAUJEU.—OMENS OF DISASTER.
The four ships sailed on the twenty-fourth of July; but the "Joly" soon broke her bowsprit, and they were forced to put back. [Footnote: La Salle believed that this mishap, which took place in good weather, was intentional.—Mémoire autographe de l'Abbé Jean Cavelier sur la Voyage de 1684, MS. Compare Joutel, 15.] On the first of August, they again set sail. La Salle, with the principal persons of the expedition, and a crowd of soldiers, artisans, and women, the destined mothers of Louisiana, were all on board the "Joly." Beaujeu wished to touch at Madeira: La Salle, for excellent reasons, refused; and hence there was great indignation among passengers and crew. The surgeon of the ship spoke with insolence to La Salle, who rebuked him, whereupon Beaujeu took up the word in behalf of the offender, saying that the surgeon was, like himself, an officer of the king. [Footnote: "Le capitaine du batiment, qui avait en deux autres occasions assez fait connoitre qu'il étoit mécontent de ce que son autorité étoit partagée, prit la parole, disant au dit Sr. de la Salle que le chirurgien étoit officier du roi comme lui."—Memoire autographe de l'Abbé Jean Cavelier, MS.] When they crossed the tropic, the sailors made ready a tub on deck to baptize the passengers, after the villanous practice of the time; but La Salle refused to permit it, to the disappointment and wrath of all the crew, who had expected to extort a bountiful ransom, in money and liquor, from their victims. There was an incessant chafing between the two commanders; and when at length, after a long and wretched voyage, they reached St. Domingo, Beaujeu showed clearly that he was, to say the least, utterly indifferent to the interests of the expedition. La Salle wished to stop at Port de Paix, where he was to meet the Marquis de St. Laurent, Lieutenant-General of the Islands; Begon, the Intendant; and De Cussy, Governor of the Island of La Tortue,—who had orders from the king to supply him with provisions, and give him all possible assistance. Beaujeu had consented to stop here; [Footnote: "C'est la (au Port de Paix) ou Mr. de Beaujeu était convenu de s'arreter."— Memoire autographe de l'Abbé Jean Cavelier, Joutel says that this was resolved on at a council held on board the "Joly," and that a Procès Verbal to that effect was drawn up.—Journal Historique, 22.] but he nevertheless ran by the place in the night, and, to the extreme vexation of La Salle, cast anchor on the twenty-seventh of September, at Petit Goave, on the other side of the island.
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 despatched a messenger to St. Laurent, Begon, and Cussy, begging them to join him, commissioned 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 the disastrous tidings that the third, the ketch "St. François," had been taken by the Spaniards. She was laden with munitions, tools, and other necessaries for the colony; and the loss was irreparable. Beaujeu was answerable for it; for, had he followed his instructions, and anchored at Port de Paix, it would not have occurred. The Lieutenant-General, with Begon and Cussy, who had arrived, on La Salle's request, plainly spoke their minds to him. [Footnote: Joutel, Journal Historique, 28.]
Meanwhile, La Salle's illness rose to a violent fever. He lay delirious in a wretched garret in the town, 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 the 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 of the loss of the ketch "St. François;" and the consequence was a critical return of the disease. [Footnote: The above particulars are from the unpublished memoir of La Salle's brother, the Abbé Cavelier, already cited.]
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.
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 hoard; 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 any thing 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 his plans are not good."
"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." [Footnote: "Si vous me permettez de dire mon sentiment, M. de la Salle devait se contenter d'avoir découvert sa riviére, sans se charger de conduire trois vaisseaux et des troupes à deux mille lieues au travers de tant de climats différents et par des mers qui lui étaient tout à fait inconnues. Je demeure d'accord qu'il est savant, qu'il a de la lecture, et même quelque teinture de la navigation. Mais il y a tant de différence entre la théorie et la pratique, qu'un homme qui n'aura que celle-là s'y trompera toujours. Il y a aussi bien de la difference entre conduire des canots sur des lacs et le long d'une rivière et mener des vaisseaux et des troupes dans des mers si éloignées."—Lettre de Beaujeu au Ministre, 20 Oct. 1684, MS.]
It was near the end of November before La Salle could resume the voyage. Beaujeu had been heard to say, that he would wait no longer for the storeship "Amiable," and that she might follow as she could. [Footnote: Mémoire autographe de l'Abbé Jean Cavelier, MS.] La Salle feared that he would abandon her; and he therefore embarked in her himself, with his friend Joutel, 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 hunters 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, seeking sympathy from none. The feud of the two commanders still rankled beneath the veil of formal courtesy with which men of the world hide their dislikes and enmities.