Old Mackinaw; Or, The Fortress of the Lakes and its Surroundings

by W. P. Strickland

"Old Mackinaw," the Indian name of which is Pe-quod-e-non-ge, an Indian town on the south side of the Straits, became the place of the first French settlement northwest of Fort Frontenac, or Cadaraeque on Lake Ontario. The settlement was made by father Marquette, in 1671. Pe-quod-e-non-ge, as we have seen in a previous Chapter, with its coasts and islands before it, has been the theatre of some of the most exciting and interesting events in Indian history, previous to the arrival of the "white man." It was the Metropolis of a portion of the Ojibwa, and Ottawa nations. It was there that their Congresses met, to adopt a policy which terminated in the conquest of the country south of it—it was there that the tramping feet of thousands of plumed and painted warriors shook Pe-quod-e-non-ge, while dancing their war dances—it was from there that the startling sound of the war yell of these thousands was wafted to the adjacent coast and islands, making the peaceful welkin ring with their unearthly shouts of victory or death. In process of time a Chapel and Fort were erected, and it became a strong-hold and trading post of the greatest importance to the entire region of the northwest, being the gateway of commerce between the St. Lawrence and the Mississippi, and also the grand avenue to the Upper Lakes of the north, and the rendezvous of the traders, merchants, trappers, soldiers, missionaries and Indians of the whole northwest. Villages of Hurons and Ottawas were located in the vicinity of the Fort and Chapel. The Fort inclosed an area of about several acres, and was surrounded with cedar pickets. The remains of the fort and buildings can still be seen. On an eminence not far from the fort, the Ottawas erected a fortification. Within the inclosure of the Fort and adjoining the Chapel, the Jesuits erected a College, the first institution of the kind in the Western country. It was also the great depot for the Courriers des Bois, or rangers of the woods, who, from their distant excursions, would congregate here. The goods which they had brought from Canada, for the purpose of exchanging for furs with the Indians of Green Bay and Illinois, and along the shores of Lake Superior, and the region lying between that and the banks of the Mississippi, had to be deposited here, and they were usually on hand a long time before they could be disposed of and transferred to the distant marts of trade.

In the year 1672, while Marquette was engaged in his duties as priest at the Chapel, the site of which now bears the name of St. Ignatius, and also employed in instructing the Indian youth of the villages, he was visited by Joliet, a member of the same order who bore a commission from Frontenac, then Governor of Canada, empowering him to select Marquette as a companion and enter upon a voyage of discovery. The winter was spent by these men in making preparations to carry out the commands of their superiors. The specific object of their mission was to explore the Mississippi, which was supposed to empty into the Gulf of California. That all possible information might be gained in regard to this unknown river, Marquette held conversations with all the noted Indian explorers and trappers, as well as the rangers of the woods within his reach. From the information thus gained he made out a map of the river, including its source and direction, and all the streams known to empty into it.

Spring at length came, and on a bright, beautiful morning in the month of May, having bid adieu to his charge at his mission, and commended his flock to God, Marquette and his companion, with five others selected for the purpose, entered their bark canoes with paddles in hand, and St. Ignatius was soon lost to the sight of the devoted missionary forever. After sailing along the Straits they entered Lake Michigan, and continued their voyage until they arrived at Green Bay, passed the mouth of the Menominee River, finally reaching that of the Fox River. On the 7th of June, having sailed upwards of two hundred miles, the voyagers reached the mission of St. Francis Xavier. They had now reached the limit of all former French or English discoveries. The new and unknown West spread out before them, and the thousand dangers and hardships by river and land, heightened by tales of horror related to them by the Indians, were presented to their imagination. Resolutely determined to prosecute the enterprise committed to their charge, they knelt upon the shore of Fox River to renew their devotions and obtain the divine guidance and protection. Encouraged by past success, and urged on by a strong faith, they launched their canoes upon the bosom of the Fox River, and breaking the silence of its shores by the dip of their paddles, they sailed up its current. When they reached the rapids of that river, it was with difficulty they were enabled to proceed. There was not power enough in the paddles of the two canoes to stem the current, and they were obliged to wade up the rapids on the jagged rocks, and thus tow them along. Having made the voyage of the Fox they arrived at the portage, and taking their canoes containing their provision and clothes upon their shoulders, they reached the Wisconsin and launched them upon that stream. They had no longer to breast a rapid current, as the waters of the Wisconsin flowed west. With renewed courage they prosecuted their voyage, and after ten days their hearts were made glad at the sight of the broad and beautiful river which they were entering, and which they supposed would bear them to the far-off western sea. They had reached the "father of waters." No sight could be more charming than that which presented itself to their vision as they beheld on either side, alternately stretching away to a vast distance, immense forests of mountain and plain.

At length, on the 25th of June, as they were sailing along near the eastern shore, they discovered foot-prints in the sand. At sight of these they landed and fastening their canoes, that they might again look upon the face of human beings, they followed an Indian path which led up the bank. They were not long in finding two Indian villages, which proved to be those of the "Pewa-rias" and "Moing-wenas." In answer to a question proposed by Marquette, who addressed them in Indian, and inquired who they were; they answered, "We are Illinois." After an exchange of friendly greetings with these peaceable Indians, the voyagers re-embarked and passed on down the river. They continued on their downward passage until they reached the mouth of the Missouri, which poured its turbid flood into the Mississippi; and still further until they passed the mouth of the Ohio, and then on down until they passed the Arkansas, and arrived within thirty miles of the mouth of the Mississippi. It was not necessary to proceed any further to satisfy the explorers that the river entered into the Gulf of Mexico, instead of that of California.

Having accomplished the end of the expedition, the company started out upon their return trip on the 17th of July. When they reached the mouth of the Illinois river, they determined on returning by that route to Mackinaw. Arriving at the portage of that river they fell in with a tribe of Indians who called themselves the Kaskaskias, who kindly volunteered to conduct them to Lake Michigan, where in due time they arrived. After sailing along the western shore of the lake they again found themselves at Green Bay, and were heartily welcomed by the brethren at the mission of St. Francis Xavier. Worn down with fatigue, Marquette determined to remain here to recruit his health before returning to his missionary labors. He spent his time at this mission post in copying his journal of the voyage down the Mississippi and back, which he accompanied by a map of the river and country, and sent by the Ottawa flotilla to his superiors at Montreal. The return of this flotilla brought him orders for the establishment of a mission among the Illinois, with whom he had so friendly an interview on his exploring voyage. Having passed the winter and succeeding summer at the St. Xavier mission, he started out in the fall for Kaskaskia. The difficulties of the journey were such, it having to be accomplished by land and water, that his health, which had been greatly enfeebled by his former voyage, was not sufficient to enable him to endure the cold winds of winter which had set in before the completion of the journey. On reaching the Chicago River it was found closed, and he did not consider it prudent to undertake an over-land journey. He therefore resolved to winter at that point, and giving his Indian companions who accompanied him the proper instructions and pious counsel, he sent them back to Green Bay. Two Frenchmen made an arrangement to remain with him during the winter. The nearest persons to their lodge were fifty miles distant. They were French trappers and traders, one of whom bore the title of a doctor. This latter person being informed of Marquette's ill-health paid him a visit, and did what he could for his relief. He also received friendly offices from the Indians in the neighborhood, a party of whom proposed to carry him and all his baggage to the contemplated mission at Kaskaskia. His health, however, was such that it did not allow him to accept their kind offer, and he was obliged to remain in his camp during the winter.

Spring at length returned after a long and dreary winter, and Marquette, with some Indian companions, started out for the upper waters of the Illinois River. In about two weeks he reached Kaskaskia, and at once entered upon the duties of his mission. After having instructed the Indians, so as to enable them to understand the objects of his mission to them, he called them all together in the open prairie, where he had erected a rude altar surmounted by the cross, and adorned with pictures of the Virgin Mary. The chiefs and warriors, and the whole tribe, were addressed by him in their native tongue. He made a number of presents to them, the more effectually to gain their affections and confidence, and then related to them the simple story of the cross, after which he celebrated mass. The scene was truly impressive, and the effect upon the sons of the forest was all that the missionary could desire. Bright and cheering were the prospects of converting the Kaskaskias to Christianity, but the devoted missionary was doomed to disappointment. His former malady returned, and assumed a type of so alarming a nature, that he was satisfied his labors on earth would soon come to an end.

Thoughts of his beloved mission at Mackinaw, where he had spent so many days in preaching to Ottawas and Hurons, and in teaching their youth Christian science, filled his mind; and the Christian, not to say natural, desire of his heart, was again to bow in the Chapel of St. Ignatius, and again behold the parents and children of his former charge. Having received the last rites of the church he set out to the lake, accompanied by the Kaskaskias who sorrowed much at his departure, but who were comforted by the dying missionary, who assured them that another would soon be sent to take his place. When they reached the shore of Lake Michigan the Indians returned, and with his two French companions Marquette embarked in a canoe upon its waters. As they coasted along the eastern shore of the lake the health of Marquette continued to fail, and he at last became so weak that when they landed to encamp for the night they had to lift him out of the canoe. Much further they could not proceed, as the journey of life with the missionary was rapidly drawing to a close.

Conscious of his approaching dissolution, as they were gently gliding along the shore, he directed his companions to paddle into the mouth of a small river which they were nearing, and pointing to an eminence not far from the bank, he languidly said, "Bury me there." That river, to this day, bears the name of the lamented Marquette. On landing they erected a bark cabin, and stretched the dying missionary as comfortably as they could beneath its humble roof. Having blessed some water with the usual ceremonies of the Catholic Church, he gave his companions directions how to proceed in his last moments. He instructed them also in regard to the manner in which they were to arrange his body when dead, and the ceremonies to be performed when it was committed to the earth. He then, for the last time, heard the confessions of his companions, encouraging them to rely on the mercy and protection of God, and then sent them away to take the repose they so much needed. After a few hours he felt that he was about taking his last sleep, and calling them, he took his crucifix and placing it in their hands, pronounced in a clear voice his profession of faith, thanking the Almighty for the favor of permitting him to die a Jesuit Missionary. Then calmly folding his arms upon his breast with the name of Jesus on his lips, and his eyes raised to heaven, while over his face beamed the radiance of immortality, he passed away to the land of the blest.

In conformity with the directions of the deceased, in due time his companions prepared the body for burial, and to the sound of his Chapel bell bore it slowly and solemnly to the place designated, where they committed it to the dust, and erected a rude cross to point out to the passing traveler the place of his grave.

James Marquette was of a most ancient and honorable family of the city of Laon, France. Born at the ancient seat of his family, in the year 1637, he was, through his pious mother, Rose de la Salle, allied to the venerable John Baptist de la Salle, the founder of the institute known as the Brothers of the Christian Schools. At the age of seventeen he entered the Society of Jesus, and after two years of study and self-examination had passed away, he was, as is usual with the young Jesuits, employed in teaching, which position he held for twelve years. No sooner had he been invested with the priesthood, than his desire to become in all things an imitator of his chosen patron, St. Francis Xavier, induced him to seek a mission in some land that knew not God, that he might labor there to his latest breath, and die unaided and alone. His desire was gratified. For nine years he labored among the Indians, and was able to preach to them in ten different languages; but he rests from his labors, and his works follow him. He died, May 18, 1675.