1813 
 D29250 
 COp. 2 
 
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"1 I B R.AFLY 
 
 OF THE 
 UNIVERSITY 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 Cla 
 
 IUIMIS HISTORICAL SURVEY 
 
INV 73 
 
Antoinette 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/antoinetteofilliOOdavi 
 
ANTOINETTE 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 
 A $tovy of 
 E«rl»ji America 
 
 by ♦ ♦ 
 colonel edward davis 
 
 Utljr ^uttHlftnp |lrpH0 
 
 «t 
 
 %\)t J()ou«e of £>un«f)ine 
 
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 Copyright, 1950, by The Sunshine Press, The House 
 
 of Sunshine, Litchfield, Illinois, U.S.A. Copyright in 
 
 Great Britain, the British Dominion and possessions. 
 
 Copyright in the Republic of Philippines. 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 
g/3 
 
 J& 
 
 , Z 
 
 The Author 
 
 Dedicates This Book 
 
 to 
 
 ILLINOIS 
 
 His Native State 
 
 r 
 
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR TO THE PUBLISHER 
 
 (Extract) 
 
 I have just completed a new novel, which has the early 
 history of Illinois as its factual background. By early his- 
 tory, I mean the period of the very first white settlers, who, 
 as you know, were French people and not English. 
 
 The title of the novel is "Antoinette of Illinois," the 
 heroine being a young French girl who comes from a village 
 in France, not far from Paris. The story opens, in some- 
 what humorous vein, with a scene in the Court of King 
 Louis the Fourteenth, in the magnificent Palace of Versailles 
 where Louis receives La Salle, the great explorer, and prom- 
 ises the latter to send colonists to "the Illinois country." 
 
 The action then shifts to the small French village, La 
 Candide, where Antoinette's parents live. After great ex- 
 citement, many of the villagers decide to go to Illinois 
 "where there are many mines of gold and silver." Then 
 follows the story of their many hardships and dangers in 
 crossing the Atlantic in one of the small sailing ships of the 
 period; their temporary stay in Quebec and Montreal; the 
 journey over Lakes Erie and Ontario, and then the long 
 march over-land to their new home in the Kaskaskia-Cahokia 
 country, in the southern part of Illinois, where they join 
 some other French people who had started the town of 
 Prairie du Rocher, a town that has existed continuously 
 since those days. I was there a few years ago. 
 
 Around the romantic career of Antoinette the story sets 
 forth how these French people carried on in Illinois; the 
 simplicity and gaiety of their village life ; their crude farm- 
 ing and business methods, and their sincere, patriotic effort 
 to establish a new France here in the wilderness of the heart 
 of the continent, an effort which failed after about a hun- 
 dred years, when the French went away, never to return. 
 
 I wrote the story because, being an Illinoisan myself, I 
 know that comparatively few people of the present popula- 
 tion are aware of this period in our history; its charm, 
 interest, quaintness, pathos and romance. Antoinette is the 
 girl who put the romance into the story. 
 
 EDWARD DAVIS. 
 
Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 i. 
 
 OUIS THE FOURTEENTH, King of France, 
 yawned lustily, rubbed his eyes and, with 
 delightful satisfaction, stretched at full 
 length in his luxurious bed. A sigh of com- 
 v*.llTii7^l fort escaped him as he felt the smoothness 
 of the silken sheets and the rare old lace that edged 
 his pillow. The great blue silk canopy over the bed 
 filled his eye. Yes, he was sated with sweet content, 
 for he was The Grand Monarch, The King of all Kings 
 in Europe, and some people even called him " God's 
 Viceroy on Earth." 
 
 Then, too, the ceremony of his going to bed the night 
 before had proceeded with a smoothness that pleased 
 him. In Louis' magnificent Court at Versailles, this 
 matter of retirement was called the " Grand Couchee" 
 (Grahnd Coushay) or "The-Grand-Going-to-Bed," a 
 strict and elaborate ceremony. As the King removed 
 his garments, each was handed by some great noble to 
 the principal valet-de-chambre. Then the heir to the 
 throne, the Dauphin, handed the King the royal night- 
 shirt and assisted in placing it on the royal body. As 
 Louis got into bed, a favorite lord held the candle, 
 an act which was rated the superior honor of the day. 
 But Louis was now concerned with the " Grand 
 Lever " (Grahnd Levay) or the "Grand-Getting-Up- 
 in-the-Morning." Yet, for the moment, Louis could 
 
not actually get out of bed because it was not eight 
 o'clock, the hour set by his own edict for the beginning 
 of the " Grand Lever. 1 ' But, Hark! What was that 
 noise? Ah! Good! It was the principal valet-de- 
 chambre drawing the shutters and letting in the light. 
 
 Then there was another step, and Louis, quickly 
 shutting his eyes, pretended that he was asleep. It 
 was his old nurse who, ever since he was a little boy, 
 had always kissed him on the cheek to waken him in 
 the morning. Opening his eyes, the King patted her 
 old gray head as she smiled at him, and withdrew. 
 
 Quickly there followed the successive steps of the 
 " Grand Lever,' ' that is to say, "The Grand-Getting- 
 Up-in-the-Morning. ,, First entered the bed-chamber 
 all the members of the Royal Family, official and in- 
 terested witnesses. It was important to make sure that 
 the man who got out of bed was actually the King 
 himself. Then, too, it was pertinent to make sure that 
 there was no one else in the bed, the King being un- 
 married at the time. 
 
 After their Highnesses had greeted the King, one of 
 the greatest nobles of France handed him his stock- 
 ings, another his shoes, and yet another his shirt. All 
 of these were donned by Louis with commendable 
 deftness and precision. In fact, with regard to such 
 matters, Louis was something of a perfectionist. Two 
 noble lords with a silver pitcher full of water and a 
 basin, washed his face and hands. Then, with much 
 assistance, the royal legs were thrust into the royal 
 breeches. A less important noble smoothed the royal 
 cravat, and yet another put in place the great six-inch 
 
 8 
 
wig. As the heels of his shoes measured some three 
 inches in height, the King, a modest five feet three in 
 bed, now stood up, an imposing six-footer. 
 
 There was some discussion as to the coat that he 
 ought to wear. Frequently he wore a sumptuous velvet 
 coat of cinnamon color. Today someone suggested 
 that he put on the gorgeous red coat, encrusted with 
 diamonds, a garment that had cost more than a million 
 francs, but, strictly speaking, that coat was "de ri- 
 gueur" solely for wear when receiving visiting mon- 
 archs. Louis finally selected the golden coat, stiff with 
 silver fleurs-de-lis. All of this was important because, 
 on this day, the King was to receive the Great La Salle, 
 the Pride of France, just arrived from New France 
 (Canada) and Louisiana, Louis' great domain in North 
 America d£ D£ 
 
 During the hour preceding noon, La Salle, escorted 
 by the younger Colbert, son of the late great prime- 
 minister, had marvelled at the groves of transplanted 
 trees, the vast lawns, the artificial lakes, and the great 
 fountains; incredibly beautiful setting of the Palace of 
 Versailles, a work that had cost untold millions of 
 francs, twenty years of toil, and the lives of thousands 
 of workers. In eloquent silence and a feeling of deep 
 regret, La Salle wondered why all this extravagance 
 had been permitted when New France was crying for 
 financial support, and for colonists to make France 
 secure in the New World. 
 
 Promptly at twelve o'clock the doors of the throne 
 room opened. La Salle and Colbert entered. Opposite 
 them, on his great silver throne, sat Louis Quatorze, 
 
 9 
 
as the French called him, the very picture of regal 
 dignity and magnificence. La Salle, accomplished 
 courtier as well as fearless, tireless explorer, bowed 
 low at the door, advanced to the halfway point, 
 bowed again, and then, immediately in front of the 
 King, made the third bow. Tall, athletic, handsome, 
 his bronzed face scarred by the wounds of war and 
 seamed with the lines of weather and hardship, the 
 great La Salle stood like a statue, his right hand closed 
 over his plumed hat, his left resting on the hilt of his 
 sword [>£ d£ 
 
 On this striking figure, so immaculately uniformed, 
 the King beamed with approval. How appropriate, he 
 thought, that such a man, tirelessly traversing the 
 wilderness of America time and time again, had finally 
 planted the flag of France on the sandy soil of New 
 Orleans, and taken possession of half a continent in 
 the King's name — "Louisiana"! 
 
 Motioning La Salle to a chair immediately to the 
 left of the throne, Louis stepped down and took a chair 
 by the side of the visitor. Then, speaking in tones 
 strangely relaxed for him, he addressed La Salle by his 
 family name: "Cavalier," he said, "we welcome you 
 back to France. We thank you for your glorious serv- 
 ices. Now tell us all about the situation in America — 
 and your plans" d£ d£ 
 
 La Salle, after making felicitous response to the 
 King's gracious address, continued: "Sire, our great- 
 est need in America is to strengthen the center of our 
 position. As your Majesty knows so well, we are in 
 fair strength in New France [Canada], and steps are 
 
 10 
 
being taken that will make New Orleans secure. Half- 
 way between New Orleans and New France there is a 
 vast prairie region, rich in minerals, lavishly watered 
 by great rivers, and, moreover, well endowed with 
 forests. It would be a paradise for colonists. It is 
 called the Illinois country. Sire, it is my ambition to 
 plant colonies of Frenchmen in Illinois. These colonies, 
 rapidly growing, would give us strength in the center 
 of our position and we would have the English hemmed 
 in, helpless, against the coast of the Atlantic Ocean." 
 
 " Those English,' ' interrupted the King, "Scum of 
 the earth. That's what they are! Yes, let's hem them 
 in, annihilate them! What a Godless crew they are!" 
 
 "Ah, Sire," resumed La Salle, "they are worse than 
 that! They even think that their government exists 
 for them. Not like our good people who know that 
 they exist for their government, and look to it for guid- 
 ance in all their affairs. Such English nonsense can 
 never make an impression on a vast continent like 
 America. It is doomed to failure. ' ' 
 
 And so the conversation continued. Before the audi- 
 ence terminated, Louis XIV had promised La Salle full 
 support in his project of colonizing Illinois. 
 
 When they parted, it was forever. Louis reigned 
 tempestuously for another thirty years. La Salle, con- 
 tinuing his prodigious, tireless explorations, met his 
 death some years later by treachery, somewhere in 
 eastern Texas or western Louisiana — the exact spot is 
 unknown. But the colonies of which he had dreamed 
 were planted, to some extent, in Illinois; little groups 
 of French people, deep in the heart of the continent. 
 
 11 
 
Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 ii. 
 
 i Hii i i i i i iiii ii n i Kiiininii 
 
 XCITEMENT, anxiety, grief, noise; all these 
 were strangers to the tiny village of La Can- 
 dide, some leagues west of Paris, and quite 
 near the coast of Normandy. In fact, for 
 generations, La Candide had been the home- 
 town of Tranquillity. 
 
 Each day, in the dim light of dawn, flickering can- 
 dles appeared in all the windows; shadowy figures 
 moved about making ready for the daily chores. The 
 baker stoked his oven, the butcher chopped his chops, 
 and the miller, with moistened finger, measured the 
 wind to see whether he should start the sails of his 
 little mill. Generally, while it was yet dark, the peas- 
 ants, in merry mood, went forth to plow and hoe and 
 sow their fields, or to gather in the crops. 
 
 And, at the end of day, slumber came early to the 
 village, in sweet silence, mysteriously attuned to the 
 deep, rhythmic rumble of the ocean waves breaking 
 on the distant shore. 
 
 On Sunday, one was awakened by the sharp clatter 
 of wooden shoes on the cobblestones, "clopin-clopant, 
 clopin-clopant, clopin-clopant,' ' as the entire popula- 
 tion turned out for Early Mass. 
 
 But, on a certain market day in midsummer, about 
 a month after the King had received La Salle in audi- 
 ence, all this serenity was abruptly broken. In the 
 middle of the morning, the town crier, his drum beat- 
 
 12 
 
ing loudly, strode with imposing step to the prefecture 
 and then to the market place. The town crier, a round, 
 red-faced man, who took his important duties most 
 seriously, cleared his throat impressively, adjusted his 
 spectacles with stately gesture, took a deep breath and 
 began to read a proclamation from Paris. 
 
 Louis Fourteenth, King of France, the document 
 said, wishing to further the greatness and the glory of 
 France, had arranged for ships to carry across the sea 
 all those who wished to take up life in New France. 
 The travel would be free, and so would animals and 
 seed and land over there in America. The soil was rich, 
 the climate was wonderful and, moreover, there were 
 many mines of gold and silver in the country called 
 Illinois. Here, so said the proclamation, was an oppor- 
 tunity to gain riches, and to enhance the glory of 
 France. His Majesty hoped that many would take 
 advantage of this opportunity. All one had to do was 
 to register at the prefecture. 
 
 Because so few of the people could read, they lis- 
 tened attentively to the words of the crier who, always 
 well satisfied with his attainments, maintained his lofty 
 attitude, and withdrew to the cadence of his drum. 
 
 A buzz of excitement pervaded the market place, 
 the center of all shopping and social activities for the 
 day. Animated conversation, accompanied by many 
 gestures in true French fashion, enlivened La Candide 
 during the remainder of the day and far into the night, 
 that is to say, as late as nine o'clock, perhaps. 
 
 Some of the older people recalled the departure of 
 their grandparents for New France some seventy 
 
 13 
 
years previously. They had settled, it was understood, 
 in a place called Quebec, and in the village Montreal. 
 
 Since those days, not much had been heard about 
 their riches, but it was clearly understood that much 
 had been done for the glory of France. And what, after 
 all, could be more important than "la gloire de la belle 
 France"? d* d* 
 
 The day's excitement caused many of the good peo- 
 ple of La Candide to lie awake much of the night, 
 discussing the merits of the proposed migration. Among 
 those thus affected were Michel, the miller, and his 
 good wife, Gertrude. 
 
 "Perhaps it would be a good idea for us to go to 
 Illinois," said Michel after they had discussed the 
 proposal over and over again. "Each year the har- 
 vest here is smaller and smaller, so there is always less 
 for my mill to grind. And, each year the taxes are 
 higher and higher." 
 
 "I don't understand," sighed Gertrude. "They say 
 the King is so wonderful and yet each year everything 
 seems worse" oj &£ 
 
 "I'm sure it's not the King's fault," rejoined 
 Michel. "They say he is so brilliant that he gives off 
 a blinding light: so much so, that if you are near him, 
 you have to shade your eyes with your hand. I was 
 told that by a man who once saw him. ' ' 
 
 "How long does it take to cross the sea, Michel?" 
 
 "I have heard that it takes sixty days, but it is not 
 an easy journey, I'm sure." 
 
 * 'You and I are old and tough, Michel, but how about 
 our little one?" 
 
 14 
 
"Oh, I'm sure she is strong enough," replied Michel. 
 
 " Besides," he continued, " there would be other lit- 
 tle girls on board. They would want us to go by fami- 
 lies, of course." 
 
 Among the people in the village who became enthu- 
 siastic over the proposed journey was Bossu, a town 
 character, well known to everyone. Bossu worked for 
 Michel, the miller, and lived in a small room on the 
 ground floor of the mill. Although he was a hunch- 
 back, his arms and legs were of prodigious strength, 
 possibly as a result of his deformity. 
 
 Carrying sacks of wheat from the farmers' carts up 
 to the hopper, and carrying the flour out to the carts, 
 was all child's play to him. And when the sails of the 
 mill needed repair, Bossu, with his strong hands and 
 arms, would swing aloft with the agility of a monkey. 
 Even if the sails were moving in the breeze, Bossu 
 could scamper over their surfaces with the greatest of 
 ease d* d$ 
 
 Like so many deformed people, Bossu's experiences 
 in life had developed in him a soul of great courage, 
 brightened and sharpened by a lively wit, and guided 
 by a definite feeling of compassion for others. His 
 was a most admirable philosophy. 
 
 Despite his handicap, some of the parents in the vil- 
 lage viewed Bossu favorably as a possible son-in-law. 
 He was a good worker and was thought to have saved a 
 tidy sum. But, more than that, he was known to be the 
 only heir of his old uncle Francois who lived over in 
 the Rhine country. 
 
 Francois was a successful farmer and wine grower. 
 
 15 
 
His Rhine wine was considered to be of fine quality. 
 In fact, many of his German neighbors preferred his 
 wine to their own. It was perhaps this district, in 
 general, that the famous American humorist, Mark 
 Twain, wrote about, some two hundred years later, 
 when he said, in effect, "The German people are very 
 fond of Rhine wine. It comes in long, thin bottles. 
 You can tell it from vinegar by the label on the bottle. ' ' 
 
 But old Francois had another source of wealth, and 
 that was manure. He had always kept a number of 
 animals and thus, during the years, he always had 
 plenty of manure. By shrewd trading, he was always 
 acquiring more. His manure piles were the biggest 
 for miles around. In fact, he was known far and wide 
 as the "Manure King." Small wonder that many of 
 the French peasants looked upon Bossu with approval, 
 or perhaps, with envy. They, too, like the people of 
 the Rhine valley, held both wine and manure in high 
 esteem. It was apparent that Bossu, in due course, 
 would be wealthy. 
 
 So the news that Bossu expected to go to America, 
 definitely popularized the project. Everybody knew 
 that his shafts of wit, and his constant good humor, 
 would brighten the voyage, and would also bring good 
 cheer into the shadows of the wilderness. 
 
 Thus it came about that in the course of a few weeks, 
 the village La Candide reported a list of seventeen per- 
 sons who would accept the King's offer of a voyage to 
 New France; quite a group for so small a community. 
 In fact, it was just enough to complete the entire pas- 
 senger list of the average brig. 
 
 16 
 
Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 in. 
 
 ^|HE PEOPLE of La Candide who signed up 
 \jS for the voyage were: Michel, the miller, his 
 
 |j01 wife and little daughter; Claude Cordon- 
 ^|/| nier, the shoemaker, his wife and small 
 ^rijj£% daughter; Edouard Cordier, the ropemaker, 
 his wife and small son; Jacques Charron, a farmer, 
 his wife and small daughter; Henri Molaire, another 
 farmer, his wife and little boy. Then there was Achille 
 Forgeron, the blacksmith, and Bossu, both bachelors. 
 
 There were five families, and each family had but 
 one child. Under the law of France, land had to be 
 divided equally among the children when the parents 
 died. It was better, so the French thought, to have few 
 children, preferably one, because then the family land 
 would not have to be divided, and each generation was 
 thus sure of a living from the land on which the preced- 
 ing generation had lived. 
 
 The seventeen adventurers of La Candide made the 
 most careful preparation for their voyage. They were 
 assigned to the French Brig, "La Gloire," a stout ship, 
 so they thought, then lying in the harbor of Le Havre. 
 Forgeron and Bossu went to the port, and measured 
 her cargo and deck space, to see just how all the be- 
 longings of the voyagers could be stored. Space was 
 necessary, too, for the food which they would have to 
 take, in addition to the supplies granted by the ship. 
 
 It was supposed that the trip would require seventy 
 
 17 
 
days. Alas! Stormy weather, counter currents and 
 fitful breezes combined to greatly prolong the voyage. 
 
 After careful calculation they decided that they 
 would take with them 200 chickens or 40 per family; 
 5 pigs or 1 per family; 10 turkeys or 2 per family, and 
 15 demijohns of wine or 3 per family. They would 
 also take a quantity of onions and dried vegetables, 
 because a Frenchman just must have his soup, espe- 
 cially onion soup. Bread they could get from the ships ' 
 stores, but, to be on the safe side, they would take 
 along some of their own wheat and barley. 
 
 Busy were the days in La Candide; what with build- 
 ing cages or coops for the chickens, the turkeys and 
 the pigs, to say nothing of a box for each of the demi- 
 johns. One week before the day set for sailing, an 
 entire day was spent in catching and securing the fowls 
 and the pigs [>i d£ 
 
 Pandemonium reigned supreme in the village, Al- 
 though the turkeys ran around in a dignified and silent 
 manner, the chickens and the pigs set up a great vocal 
 protest. Such clucking and squawking, such squealing 
 and grunting had not been heard in La Candide for 
 many years. Bossu, being close to the ground, used 
 his long arms to advantage. Forgeron, the blacksmith, 
 was an expert turkey catcher, with his strong, sinewy 
 hands. Cordonnier, the shoemaker, and Cordier, the 
 ropemaker, were very awkward except with pigs. 
 These they quickly made fast. The children, scamper- 
 ing here and there with great agility, were very useful, 
 and the wives, with their vast practical experience, 
 were the best of all. 
 
 18 
 
In the midst of all the uproar, old Father Bonte, the 
 village cure, or priest, came upon the scene, to give this 
 necessary enterprise his blessing. Sticking his fingers 
 in his ears and feigning alarm, he exclaimed: "Ma 
 foi, quelle manifestation extraordinaire ! n 
 
 Finally all the livestock was made secure. The next 
 day Bossu, in charge of a long string of carts, and ac- 
 companied by all the other men, took the fowls and 
 pigs and most of the household effects to Le Havre, 
 and loaded everything on the good ship "La Gloire." 
 Bossu remained on board as guard, and to feed the live- 
 stock [>$ D£ 
 
 Three days later the entire party left La Candide 
 for Le Havre, accompanied by most of the people of 
 the village; their friends who wished to say good-by 
 when they sailed. As this was a parting of lifelong 
 friends, probably never to see one another again, it 
 was a solemn occasion. In fact, on the day of sailing, 
 they all assembled for prayer, and joined in a "Te 
 Deum" as the brig was being warped out of the basin. 
 
 Just at that time, France and England happened to 
 be at peace; an unusual and happy circumstance. So 
 the brig "La Gloire" sailed boldly out into the channel 
 and set her course for the Atlantic. Unfortunately, 
 strong winds from the west and southwest were en- 
 countered, so it took them four days to get out of the 
 Channel d£ Di 
 
 As they passed down the Channel, they all crowded 
 to the rail, to take a last look at their beloved France. 
 Many of them wept, as well they might have, because 
 few of them were destined to see their native land 
 
 19 
 
again. Happily, they could not know this, owing to 
 Nature's wise provision against a knowledge of the 
 Future d* [>£ 
 
 They were somewhat awed by the great expanse of 
 water, and the brusqueness and liveliness of the waves, 
 as they entered the Atlantic and felt the impact of the 
 great ocean swell. On the gigantic waves, up went the 
 little ship. Up, up, higher and higher, until they feared 
 it would stand on end and topple over. Then down 
 and down, until the crest of the wave, slipping from 
 under them, let the ship down with a terrific thud, as it 
 hit the actual level of the sea. Each time they feared 
 the impact would split the ship in two. 
 
 Worse than that, perhaps, was the roll of the vessel, 
 when in the trough of the waves. Over, over, it would 
 roll, until it seemed certain that it would never right 
 itself. But then it would pause, seem to shake itself, 
 and start to roll the other way. This time they were 
 sure that it would roll clear over. But no, it levelled 
 off again, and catastrophe was averted, but the sense 
 of fear remained. 
 
 So, day by day, the miserable hours passed. Many 
 of the passengers, confined to their berths by seasick- 
 ness, lapsed into a state of mind so resigned that, final- 
 ly, they did not care whether the ship sank or not. 
 Then came intervals of smooth seas, and some were 
 able to sit on deck, and enjoy the freshness of the ocean 
 air d* DJ 
 
 But, in fair weather and foul, Bossu and Forgeron 
 were able to stay on deck, the former being busy telling 
 the members of the crew that he was "going to Illinois 
 
 20 
 
where there are only French people." He found one 
 member of the crew who had lived in Montreal, and 
 had heard much about Illinois from trappers who had 
 been there. As Bossu could not read, he had had few 
 sources of information about Illinois, so this crew man 
 was a God-send to him. He cross-examined the man 
 thoroughly d£ d£ 
 
 As Bossu was a master of French slang, and enjoyed 
 using it, he was a constant source of amusement to the 
 crew. For instance, if one of them told him a tale that 
 was manifestly in the realm of the impossible, Bossu 
 would cock his head on one side and jauntily reply: 
 "Et ta soeur! ,, ("And your sister"), which, in slang, 
 is equivalent to saying: "You can't fool me with that 
 stuff." Or, if one of the crew asked him how he felt, 
 he would reply, nonchalantly: "Ja'i le cafard" ("I 
 have the cockroach"), but meaning actually: "I am 
 homesick." French slang, like English slang, is utter- 
 ly irreconcilable with plain language. 
 
 Owing to seasickness and poor facilities for cook- 
 ing, the food supplies of the voyageurs held out very 
 well; a fortunate circumstance, because the ship was 
 proving much slower than had been expected. Heavy 
 weather in mid- Atlantic made it necessary to keep the 
 portholes closed much of the time and, as a result, the 
 cabins were filled with smoke whenever cooking was 
 attempted. And, as the ship's cook was not inclined 
 to cooperate, the passengers had to use the heating 
 stove in what was called the Grand Cabin, instead of 
 the better facilities in the cook's galley. 
 
 21 
 
Jostling one another around the stove, their eyes 
 filled with smoke, the passengers acquired short tem- 
 pers, and much food was ruined in these attempts at 
 cooking. To make matters worse, the supply of wine 
 dwindled much faster than had been expected. What, 
 I ask you, would cause discontent and irritability 
 among Frenchmen more than a prospect of wine short- 
 age? As the ship appeared to be about 20 days be- 
 hind hen schedule, it was finally decided to ration the 
 wine vi d£ 
 
 In the western Atlantic, strong winds from the west 
 and southwest, and the powerful thrust of the Gulf 
 Stream combined to hold the ship back. Apparently 
 she was gaining no longitude at all. Just at this time, 
 when strong hope of completing the voyage prevailed, 
 they narrowly escaped catastrophe — the foundering of 
 the ship d£ c* 
 
 Proceeding one day under full sail, they were struck 
 by a squall, which came upon them so suddenly, that 
 the crew could not take in sail fast enough. Two mem- 
 bers of the crew were knocked out of the rigging by the 
 violent plunging of the ship, and badly hurt. Without 
 them the mainsail could not be furled. The ship rolled 
 so violently and the wind heeled her over so far 
 that she seemed certain, at any moment, to capsize on 
 her beam ends, and that would have meant the loss of 
 all on board. 
 
 As the captain called out in despair, Bossu and For- 
 geron volunteered to cut away the sail that was caus- 
 ing the trouble. Bossu ran up the ratlines like a great 
 spider, knife in his belt, closely followed by Forgeron 
 
 22 
 
as a "safety-man." Up, up, they went to the topmost 
 part of the mast. Slashing the lines, right and left, 
 Bossu cut away the sail, and it was swept into the sea 
 by the wind. Relieved of the pressure, the ship right- 
 ed herself, and was out of danger. 
 
 At that instant, to the horror of all those on deck, 
 Bossu was knocked out of the rigging by the flying 
 sail, and fell like a plummet toward the deck far below. 
 But, owing to the violent plunging of the ship, he was 
 hit by the swaying rigging, bounced up like a rubber 
 ball, and came down again into the shrouds where 
 clung Achille Forgeron. Quick as a flash, the power- 
 ful blacksmith shot out a brawny arm, closed his sin- 
 ewy fist on Bossu' s arm, clutching it like a vise, and 
 pulled Bossu into the rigging alongside him. The im- 
 perturbable hunchback, with the breath half knocked 
 out of him, but still game, snapped "Never touched 
 me!" Excellent slang, but scarcely a factual descrip- 
 tion of the gigantic game of battledore and shuttle- 
 cock, in which he had been the latter. 
 
 In their uneasiness and perplexity, the crew began 
 sounding, and on the third day of that activity, the 
 lead struck bottom, to the joy of all on board. They 
 had struck the submerged edge of the North American 
 continent! Two days later land was sighted. As they 
 entered the Gulf of Saint Lawrence, with islands and 
 points of land all around them, Bossu hurried about, 
 demanding of the crew: "Is that Illinois?" One of 
 them, the man from Montreal, replied, with a laugh: 
 "Illinois? I should say not! That's a thousand leagues 
 from here!" 
 
 23 
 
Great was the relief of all on board! Great was 
 their happiness! All gathered on the main deck to 
 chant a solemn n Te Deum, M and to offer a prayer of 
 gratitude. Day after day the river narrowed, and 
 little white houses could be seen here and there along 
 the shore. They were thrilled when they saw canoes, 
 filled with Indians, moving close to the shore. 
 
Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 IV. 
 
 OWARD THE CLOSE of a bright, clear 
 afternoon, with all sails set, the brig "La 
 Gloire" swept smoothly around a headland, 
 and there in the distance loomed a great 
 grey rock, towering high above the smooth 
 waters of the Saint Lawrence. The famous French ex- 
 plorer, Jacques Cartier, had been the first white man 
 to see this great natural fortress, Quebec, almost one 
 hundred and fifty years before the arrival of the little 
 group from La Candide. 
 
 All crowded to the forward part of the deck, and 
 cheered loudly. Bossu was grinning with excitement, 
 even though he knew now that this could not be Illi- 
 nois. Cheers again resounded, as the ship dropped her 
 anchor in the shadow of the great rock. When Cartier, 
 so long before, had first anchored here, the top of the 
 rock was occupied by a great Indian village. Now, a 
 stockade crowned the summit, and behind it could be 
 seen the tops of stone buildings — the beginning of the 
 present city d£ d£ 
 
 It was too late in the day to go ashore, but their cup 
 of happiness was overflowing. How blissful it was to 
 feel their ship riding at anchor in this quiet basin, after 
 all their stormy days at sea! All along the shore, and 
 high up on the rock, as night came on, lights twinkled 
 in the windows of homes — French homes! That night, 
 they were lulled to sleep by that most delightful of 
 
 25 
 
sounds, the gentle lapping of small waves, little harm- 
 less waves, against the side of the ship, at anchor. 
 
 As their ship was not going further up the river, 
 they spent all the next day disembarking, and unload- 
 ing their household effects. A row of log cabins, a 
 short distance from the shore, at the foot of the bluff, 
 had been set aside for their occupancy. These cabins 
 stood just north of a point now known as "le saute de 
 matelot" (the sailor's leap), where comes down the 
 crooked street from the Upper City to the Lower City. 
 
 As cold weather was approaching, the plan was for 
 the new arrivals to make themselves comfortable at 
 Quebec for the winter. Then, very early in the spring, 
 they would move on to Montreal and, from there, enter 
 the great western wilderness, en route to their final 
 destination — Illinois. 
 
 In the years that followed, they all looked back to 
 Quebec days with great satisfaction, for here they were 
 very happy. First of all, there was the relief at having 
 the long ocean voyage behind them. Here, in Quebec, 
 they relaxed, and those whose health had been impaired 
 by the rigors of the voyage, were able to re-establish 
 their normal physical condition. 
 
 Here, too, the children ran and played to their 
 hearts' content, a fine tonic after the restrictions of 
 the days at sea. The little boys and girls, who lived in 
 Quebec, were friendly to the new arrivals, never 
 dreaming that one of the little girls from La Candide 
 was destined to achieve fame and startling leadership 
 among the French in the great wilderness. 
 
 Bossu pursued assiduously his interest in Illinois. 
 
 26 
 
By dint of much inquiry among the inhabitants of the 
 town, and by piecing together all his bits of informa- 
 tion, he began to take on airs as an authority. He also 
 laid aside the old, flour-stained conical hat, with its 
 little feather which he had worn until now, and ap- 
 peared in a coon-skin cap, which he understood was the 
 customary winter headgear in Illinois. He acquired a 
 pair of deer-skin moccasins, gayly ornamented with 
 bright colored beads. Everybody smiled at Bossu's 
 eagerness to be one of the Illinii. 
 
 The group suffered two serious losses while at Que- 
 bec. Among the local industries, was a flourishing 
 rope-walk, and also a small ship-repair shop. Ships 
 arriving at Quebec almost always needed quite a bit of 
 new cordage, and some repairs to ship's tools and 
 equipment, as a result of the long ocean voyage. So 
 Edouard Cordier, the ropemaker, decided to remain in 
 Quebec d£ d£ 
 
 A good job there, he thought, would be safer for him- 
 self, his wife and his little boy, than the uncertain 
 prospects of a village in Illinois. Achille Forgeron, the 
 doughty blacksmith, an old bachelor, came to the same 
 conclusion. Although he did not mention it, Achille 
 reasoned that matrimonial prospects were better here 
 than in the West. At least, he could look the maidens 
 over as they arrived fresh from France. 
 
 The winter at Quebec was far more severe than any- 
 thing they had ever experienced in France. Fortu- 
 nately, this had been foreseen, and great quantities of 
 firewood had been brought in from the outlying set- 
 tlements, where such supplies were practically inex- 
 
 27 
 
haustible. As each cabin had a large fireplace, and 
 as fur garments were readily obtainable, the new- 
 comers were able to pass the winter in reasonable com- 
 fort d* oi 
 
 But they found themselves confronted by a new 
 danger, and a real one, the Indians. Off to the south 
 and east, the Mohawks and the Iroquois seemed chroni- 
 cally hostile to the French. In time, better relations 
 were established with the Mohawks, but the Iroquois 
 remained hostile to the very end of the French regime. 
 The French blamed the English for this, and their con- 
 clusion was probably correct, because the English at 
 Albany, and other posts, were always in closer contact 
 with the Iroquois, economically and politically. 
 
 Impressed by the blood-curdling tales they heard, 
 the group from La Candide remained close to the pro- 
 tecting fortress, and took no chances. Even so, they 
 were not entirely safe, because that very winter the 
 Iroquois ventured to attack Quebec itself, and were 
 only driven off by hard fighting on the part of the 
 soldiers of the garrison. 
 
 With the advent of spring, the group prepared to 
 move up the river to Montreal. One fine day, early in 
 April, they loaded all their household effects on a small 
 sailing vessel. How different was this trip from their 
 anxious ocean voyage, with all its tempestuousness, its 
 difficulties as to food, its many lonely weeks, its fear! 
 The voyage to Montreal required only two days, the 
 water was smooth, the banks so near and so beautiful. 
 It was joyous, or would have been, but for their fear of 
 the Indians — the Iroquois. However, as to this, they 
 
 28 
 
were safely escorted by another vessel carrying French 
 soldiers, many of them veterans of Indian warfare. 
 
 At Montreal, as at Quebec, they were following by 
 many years that intrepid French explorer, Jacques 
 Cartier, who had visited this spot in 1535 but, at that 
 time, had established no settlement. More than a hun- 
 dred years after Cartier, a group of Jesuit priests and 
 other zealots established a colony here; the interim 
 having been due to France's continuous wars in Eu- 
 rope [>$ o* 
 
 The Jesuits, two years after their arrival, founded 
 the present-day great hospital, Hotel Dieu, then but a 
 primitive wooden structure. This was one of the few 
 larger buildings standing, when our voyageurs of La 
 Candide arrived. The remainder of the village was 
 merely a cluster of log cabins. 
 
 Montreal, in those days, maintained a desperate 
 struggle for existence, being habitually neglected by 
 the French Government. Gradually, it became the 
 center of the two activities which seemed to consume 
 the attention of the French, namely, the trade in beaver 
 skins, and the saving of the souls or, at least, the bap- 
 tism of the Indians who, in their abysmal ignorance, 
 probably had not the slightest conception of the nature 
 of the soul oi Di 
 
 During the entire French regime in North America, 
 the energy and intelligence, if it may be called that, of 
 the government in Paris, was irretrievably split be- 
 tween the competition of the priests and the fur 
 traders. Their colonization project suffered accord- 
 ingly D* [>* 
 
 29 
 
til 
 
 Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 v. 
 
 Y THE MIDDLE of April they were ready to 
 " plunge into the western wilderness." Yet 
 "plunge" seems hardly the correct word, 
 ^J/|^^| because they were deliberately facing a 
 )T^ M ,i.lC^^ journey of more than a thousand miles; five 
 hundred by water and five hundred by land, and it was 
 going to take them about seventy days to make the 
 journey. Today, it would require about four hours by 
 plane, and possibly twenty-four hours by rail, includ- 
 ing changes. So, let us say that they were ready to 
 "move on into the wilderness." 
 
 They were not discouraged by the distance, nor by 
 the time, because their long journey by sea had inured 
 them to that sort of thing. Besides, by now, they knew 
 all about the earlier experiences of Joliet, Marquette, 
 La Salle, Tonti, and a score or more of Jesuit priests, 
 who had made journeys of far greater length, and 
 under conditions of hardship, with which their own 
 could not compare. 
 
 Furthermore, they were, after all, only pawns on the 
 chessboard of their King— the great Louis Quatorze. 
 They were merely an importation, each stage of which 
 was controlled by their government. Then, too, they 
 looked forward to great riches. Although they were 
 mostly farmers, and expected to till the vast acreages 
 which they had been told would be theirs for the tak- 
 ing, they remembered that almost every account of 
 
 30 
 
America, especially of Illinois, that had appeared in 
 France in those days, had announced that there were 
 "many mines of silver and of gold in Illinois." 
 
 Then too, the group from La Candide, reinforced by 
 a few families from Quebec and Montreal, had unity of 
 purpose, cohesion, respectability. Their personnel in- 
 cluded no jailbirds and other dregs, as did some of 
 the French colonist groups. The Frenchman has, in 
 general, never liked to be transplanted. So when 
 France found difficulty in recruiting colonists in those 
 days, the quota was sometimes filled by taking men out 
 of jails, or, in some instances, by arresting men on the 
 streets and dragging them on board ship. 
 
 The Englishman was different. Initiative impelled 
 him. Seeing no chance for land at home, he was per- 
 fectly willing to quit "the old sod," and go where he 
 could own land. Or, if his religious views were too 
 much restricted by government, he would go where he 
 could be free as to religion. He was law-abiding, but 
 he reserved the right to remark: "To Hell with the 
 King," if he felt that way about it. He made an ideal 
 colonist, because of his belief in individual enterprise 
 and freedom of opportunity. 
 
 But, to return to our people from La Candide. They 
 first had to go on foot to a point some miles above the 
 rapids called La Chine, a feature of the St. Lawrence 
 River, which made it impossible to embark at Mont- 
 real. At this point, they went on board two small sail- 
 ing vessels, of a type then on the Lakes, which fol- 
 lowed the pattern established earlier by La Salle him- 
 self, when he built his 50-ton galley, the ill-fated "Grif- 
 
 31 
 
fon," on Lake Erie just above Niagara Falls d£ d£ 
 Favorable winds carried them rapidly up the river, 
 but not rapidly enough to avoid an attack by the 
 Indians. At last, the settlers found themselves face to 
 face with this danger. At a point where the stream 
 was narrower than usual, and made a sharp bend, some 
 thirty canoes and pirogues filled with warriors, came 
 dashing out from the thick, overhanging bushes of the 
 south bank where they had lain in ambush. Discharg- 
 ing showers of arrows and firing muskets, they seemed 
 bent on overwhelming the leading ship. The situation 
 was critical, but the commander of the escort was equal 
 to the occasion [>£ d^ 
 
 He had armed the colonists in the leading vessel, and 
 had left a few soldiers with them, but he had most of 
 the soldiers on the second ship. He was also towing 
 four large pirogues alongside this vessel on the side 
 opposite the bank from which he felt the attack would 
 come, and where they were out of sight from that bank. 
 The instant the Indians came into view, he led his force 
 into the pirogues and dashed, not toward the Indians, 
 but toward the shore from whence they had come. 
 
 Landing here, he directed his attack against the few 
 Indians left on shore, drove them away and then opened 
 fire on the Indians in the canoes. Always supersensi- 
 tive to an attack from the rear or a flank, the Indians 
 on the river became panic-stricken. Caught between 
 the French fire coming from the shore, and that from 
 the defenders of the leading ship, many of their canoes 
 riddled and sinking, the Iroquois — for such they were 
 — fled from the scene, or jumped into the water, hoping 
 
 32 
 
to escape by swimming. The French who have a def- 
 inite lust for killing, did not hesitate to shoot the 
 Indians in the water. It was all over in fifteen minutes, 
 thanks to the alertness and the tactical skill of the 
 commander of the escort. 
 
 The women and children, who had been kept below 
 in the tiny cabin, came on deck thrilled by the excite- 
 ment and the success of the conflict. The soldiers, who 
 had fought on shore, were re-embarked, much puffed 
 up, loud with exclamations of bravado, and displaying 
 various trophies they had picked up. 
 
 Favorable winds continuing, they crossed the length 
 of Lake Ontario in good time, and then found them- 
 selves confronted by the arduous task of carrying all 
 their goods up the steep bank, to make the portage 
 around Niagara Falls and over to Lake Erie. An old 
 Jesuit priest who lived in the Indian village at this 
 point, helped them greatly by persuading some of his 
 converts to assist in this difficult portage. 
 
 After a week of hard work, they loaded their prop- 
 erty on two small sailing vessels of the galley type, 
 that lay in the very basin where La Salle had built the 
 11 Griff on." In these, they set sail for the western end 
 of Lake Erie. This voyage of about 250 miles was 
 disappointingly slow, but comfortable, despite crowded 
 quarters \>i d£ 
 
 At the end of two weeks, they came to anchor off the 
 mouth of the Maumee River, where there was a small 
 guard of soldiers from the Detroit garrison. It had 
 been decided to stop here, because to go on to the vil- 
 lage of Detroit would only have increased the distance 
 
 33 
 
of their march overland to Illinois. Nor were they at 
 all interested in Detroit. Bossu had learned in Mont- 
 real, that the Detroit locality, and its advantageous 
 features, had first been discovered by Joliet; that La 
 Salle had visited the place a few years later, and that 
 the village had finally been established by Antoine de 
 Lamothe Cadillac. 
 
 The commandant came down to the Maumee anchor- 
 age from Detroit, and explained that the trail to Kas- 
 kaskia, starting from Detroit, and from where they 
 were at Maumee, traced to the southwest along or 
 near the north bank of the Maumee River, to a point 
 where Fort Wayne now stands. From thence, the trail 
 led over high ground into the water-shed of a river 
 which we now call the Wabash, continuing along or 
 near the north bank of that river, always going south- 
 west, and generally following a buffalo trail, until it 
 crossed a river which the French called the Vermillion 
 Jaune. Then they would be in Illinois, said the com- 
 mandant; the soldiers would show them the crossing 
 place, and would point out the new trail to the Kaskas- 
 kia country oi d£ 
 
Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 VI. 
 
 ORTUNATELY there was no great danger 
 from the Indians at that time, in this region. 
 I n tfisOfc France and England had just concluded a 
 J / | temporary peace, so there was no one to in- 
 cite the red men to war. Nevertheless, the 
 Governor of New France [Canada] had provided for 
 the little column an escort of thirty French soldiers 
 and thirty friendly Indians. 
 
 The road, or trail, was better than the settlers had 
 expected. During the preceding year, it had been 
 travelled by three large parties. Besides, it had been 
 selected and traveled originally by America's great- 
 est road finders, the buffalo. What we now call the 
 Middle West was at that time, and had been for count- 
 less years, a grazing ground for hundreds of thousands 
 of these animals. In travelling from one grazing 
 ground to another, in herds of many thousands, in- 
 stinct enabled them to select the shortest line which, at 
 the same time, included the fewest serious obstacles. 
 
 For example, they followed the ridges that consti- 
 tuted the summits of the watersheds, and thus they 
 crossed large streams near their sources, which made it 
 unnecessary to ford them or swim them where they 
 were wide. At the same time, they kept reasonably 
 near water, for drinking purposes. Thus it came about, 
 that the early military expeditions, and the groups of 
 settlers for whom they blazed the way, found it of ad- 
 
 35 
 
vantage to follow the buffalo trails, if one could be 
 found. As a rule, these trails were so wide that they 
 could be followed easily. 
 
 The Indians marched well in front and on each side; 
 the soldiers were in one body at the head of the column. 
 Then came our friends from La Candide, with such 
 pack-animals and ox-drawn carts as they had been able 
 to obtain. Last came five families from Quebec and 
 Montreal; people who had lived in those villages for 
 some years, and had finally decided to go to Illinois. 
 Last came more oxcarts and pack animals, escorted by 
 some of the bachelors and a few of the older boys who 
 were big enough to bear arms. As a rule, families tried 
 to keep together on the march, but after several days 
 when their anxiety as to hostile Indians diminished, 
 the children began to look upon the march as a great 
 romp, and ran here and there alongside the column. 
 
 Their march program was to rise very early, a little 
 before daylight, have a substantial breakfast, take 
 time to pack carefully and then move out along the 
 road. They would march until about mid-afternoon, 
 have a light lunch, and get ready for a heavy meal at 
 night. All of this was somewhat contrary to their usual 
 eating habits, but it saved time, and was better suited 
 to the fatigue of the journey. 
 
 Making camp early not only enabled them to pre- 
 pare carefully for the night, but gave time to hunt game 
 for the evening and morning meals. They discovered 
 early on the journey, that vast numbers of carrier pi- 
 geons came early to roost in the forest. These birds 
 then frequented the Middle West literally by the mil- 
 
 36 
 
lions, and it was easy to shoot as many of them as were 
 needed [>£ oi 
 
 They limited the slaughter to their actual needs, 
 differing, in this respect, from their successors, the 
 American settlers, who came along later and who, 
 market conscious, literally decimated the flocks, final- 
 ly rendering the species extinct. The French would 
 have done the same, but there was then no market for 
 the birds. Venison was plentiful, and so were many 
 edible smaller animals, so they did not lack for meat. 
 
 All along the trail they found hazelnuts, hickory 
 nuts, walnuts and butternuts, though some of these 
 were not yet mature enough to eat. It was not at all 
 unusual to find great supplies of mushrooms. As the 
 French are probably the world's greatest mushroom 
 experts, they were not at a loss to distinguish between 
 the poisonous and the nonpoisonous varieties. Black- 
 berries, raspberries and strawberries were found fre- 
 quently d* d* 
 
 At almost every camp, some of the children, per- 
 haps Helene or Marie or Beatrice, would come running 
 to their mothers, shouting: " Dents de lion, dents de 
 lion" ("Lions' teeth, lions' teeth"), in other words 
 "dandelions, dandelions; now we can have salad." 
 
 And the mothers were happy when some child would 
 shout excitedly: "Moulines, moulines!" because that 
 meant mullen. So, from the broad, fuzzy leaves they 
 made mullen tea, a useful concoction under the circum- 
 stances D£ [>£ 
 
 Shouts of "Violettes, violettes" were always wel- 
 come, because there they were; little white and blue 
 
 37 
 
violets nestling under bushes, just like those that grew 
 back in La Candide, cheerful reminders of the homes 
 they had left d$ d£ 
 
 And so the days passed rapidly and cheerfully, ex- 
 cept when they encountered rain. On rainy days, they 
 did not march, but remained huddled together under 
 shelters of leafy boughs. On such occasion, the irre- 
 pressible Bossu made it a point to go from shelter to 
 shelter, pretending that there was nothing quite so 
 jolly as a wet camp. 
 
 As a rule they were glad to camp near some old 
 camp, made by Frenchmen who had been that way be- 
 fore them. Here they might find unused firewood, 
 and water would be near. They never actually used 
 an old camp site, because as every Frenchman knows, 
 and so does almost everyone else, a French camp is 
 seldom a model of sanitation. 
 
 They were accompanied, of course, by many dogs. 
 These contributed definitely to the factor of compan- 
 ionship, were useful in hunting, and also served as aids 
 to sentinels. The busiest dogs were the terriers, for- 
 ever digging for truffles, a great French delicacy that 
 grows underground. That's where the terrier got his 
 name; because he dug in the ground, or "la terre." 
 But no terrier, however industrious, was ever able to 
 find these subterranean edible fungi. Apparently there 
 were none in this region. 
 
 38 
 
Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 VII. 
 lllllllMlllll l MUMlllllllll l l h 
 
 )^WlI ATE IN THE apternoon of tne twentieth 
 day, the column was thrown into great ex- 
 citement by the appearance of some twenty 
 Jj^|_Ft|men on a hillside, less than a mile away. 
 l&^£^£i They were white men, and seemed to be 
 marching directly across the line of march of the group 
 from La Candide. When one of the soldiers signalled 
 to them, they came over, and proved to be Frenchmen 
 from Vincennes, a French post and village which lay 
 about 50 miles to the south, in the present state of 
 Indiana d£ [>i 
 
 These men stated that they were returning from an 
 expedition to Fort Creve Coeur, a French settlement, 
 first established by La Salle, near the present site of 
 Peoria, about a hundred miles to the west. There was 
 much shouting and hand shaking all along the line, as 
 these two groups of French people met, so unexpect- 
 edly in this midcontinent forest. It was decided by 
 all to camp for the night right where they were, so as 
 to make the most of the meeting. That night, around 
 campfires, the conversation fairly sizzled with ex- 
 change of news and stories of France, Quebec, Mont- 
 real and the Illinois country. In the morning, each 
 group continued its separate way, cheered on by the 
 other i>i [>$ 
 
 Two days later, when they came to a small stream 
 not far south of the present city of Danville, Illinois, 
 
 39 
 
the commander of the escort announced: "That's 
 Illinois on the other side of this little river.' ' As this 
 word went along the column, everybody cheered 
 loudly, and there was much hilarity as they forded the 
 shallow stream. 
 
 The miller and his wife, trudging up the sandy slope 
 on the Illinois side, were passed by a group of five or 
 six children who were shouting excitedly. A long- 
 legged, dark-eyed girl of about fifteen led the pack. 
 "At last we are in Illinois !" she shouted as she ran 
 along. "Yes, yes; how wonderful! We are in Ill- 
 inois ! M the others chimed in. 
 
 "Antoinette! Antoinette!" called out the miller's 
 wife. "Do not run so. My child ! You will wear your- 
 self out!" D$ D£ 
 
 "No! No! Maman!" replied the girl, her black eyes 
 sparkling. "We have only just started to run!" 
 
 "Better let her go," intervened the miller. "It 
 will do her good. She's been so silent and moody since 
 we left Quebec. I don't know what has come over the 
 girl" d* [* 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so." replied his wife. "It will be 
 good for her. I, too, have noticed the change in her. 
 Perhaps it's just because she is nearing maturity. I 
 wish she would be more light-hearted like the other 
 children" o$ d£ 
 
 But there was a special reason for their daughter's 
 moodiness, a reason which Antoinette was careful to 
 keep to herself. Perhaps she thought that her parents 
 would look with disfavor on the matter with which 
 she was so much concerned. Perhaps she was so ab- 
 
 40 
 
sorbed in it that she was not aware of the change in 
 her attitude d* d£ 
 
 Being of the younger generation in France, she had 
 learned to read. There had been but few books in 
 La Candide, and similar villages, just as there are few 
 now, but she had come across stories of Joan of Arc 
 and, in one way and another, had learned much about 
 the Maid of Orleans who had become her ideal, her 
 heroine. The pathos of the story had appealed to her, 
 as well as the heroics. Time and again, she had day- 
 dreamed stories and pictures of Joan's unflinching 
 courage and fearless leadership. Sometimes she imag- 
 ined she could hear the "voices" that had inspired 
 Joan to undertake her tragic mission. 
 
 In connection with all this, there grew in her child's 
 heart a bitter hatred of the English, they who had 
 caused her heroine to be burned at the stake. How 
 merciless! How barbaric they had been! How cruel! 
 How un-Christian! Also, in her reading, she had 
 learned that the English had occupied and ruled the 
 better part of her dear France for over two hundred 
 years [>£ d£ 
 
 True, they had been driven out of France long be- 
 fore she was born, but Antoinette resented the very 
 thought of their having ruled her country. "The Eng- 
 lish,' ' she would say to herself, "what right had they 
 to occupy my country!" The fact that the presence 
 of the English in France had resulted from the quarrels 
 of the French among themselves, had not been revealed 
 to her in her superficial reading nor, in fact, would 
 that have been pointed out in any French book. 
 
 41 
 
So, the little girl of La Candide had carried this 
 detestation of the English in her breast on the long 
 voyage across the Atlantic. And during the long 
 winter in Quebec, all this hatred was fanned to white 
 heat by the stories she heard there. ' 'Here, too,' ' they 
 told her, "the English are our arch-enemies. ,, It was 
 the English, so they told her, who had bribed the 
 Iroquois to make war on the French settlements. 
 
 And, worst of all, so she understood, the English 
 had aroused the Iroquois to the greatest atrocities by 
 giving them brandy. Sitting around the fireplace on 
 long, cold winter nights in Quebec, she had heard all 
 these stories from elderly Frenchwomen who had lived 
 there many years. And the very next day, on occa- 
 sions, she herself had seen the cabins of French set- 
 tlers along the shores of the Saint Lawrence, going up 
 in flames; set afire by the Indian allies of the English. 
 
 "Yes," she said to herself, "the English are wicked 
 and should be punished. ' ' She wondered what Jeanne 
 d'Arc would have done here in America. But the Maid 
 of Orleans had done her part, and gone to a glorious 
 death long ago. Ah! Was it possible that she, An- 
 toinette, could do something? Could she avenge the 
 wrongs that had been done, and were being done, to 
 her people by the English? That, indeed, was some- 
 thing to think about. And, in fact, she was thinking 
 about it! That was the cause of the outward mani- 
 festations that her parents had noticed, with some 
 concern d£ d£ 
 
 As the marching column moved forward into the 
 Illinois country, there happened to be no great buffalo 
 
 42 
 
trail to follow. However, because of occasional travel 
 between Detroit and the French settlements on the 
 Mississippi River, the going was not too bad. The 
 newcomers were fascinated by the great prairies over 
 which they were passing. 
 
 Some days the prairie extended as far as they could 
 see ; a vast rolling expanse of green. Again they would 
 find heavily forested regions, into which the prairie 
 would extend in sweeping indentations; coves, they 
 were called, ideal places for farms, so they thought. 
 But, unfortunately, the prevailing technical idea at 
 that time was that crops would not grow well in 
 prairie soil; it was better to clear forest land and plant 
 there. It is painful to think of the unnecessary toil 
 that was caused by this mistaken idea. 
 
 But they could only contemplate these promising 
 areas through which they were passing. Their destina- 
 tion had already been determined; the Kaskaskia- 
 Cahokia region, a small area on the Illinois side of the 
 Great Bend of the Mississippi River, below a point 
 where now stands the city of Saint Louis. Day by 
 day they pressed on toward this objective. 
 
tmJi 
 
 Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 VIII. 
 
 JfT^^Sv UBING THE PINAL WEEK of their march, 
 vs i^\they crossed the hilly country of southern 
 Illinois, now known as the eastern extension 
 of the Ozarks. It was very definitely up- 
 hill and down-dale, and led through deep 
 forests especially where there were streams. While 
 all of this caused the settlers to admire the beauty of 
 the region, it also slowed down their rate of march. 
 
 Early in the morning of their last day, the trail 
 swept out of a thick forest, and they found themselves 
 standing at the top of a high bluff from whence they 
 could look out over the country for miles. Spread out 
 before them like a great panorama was the Kaskaskia- 
 Cahokia valley in a bend of the river, the region which 
 was to be their home. How utterly different from the 
 rolling, green-carpeted, trim-hedged, and well-kept 
 countryside of Normandy, with all its ancient towns 
 and villages, where they and their ancestors had dwelt 
 since time immemorial! 
 
 Far off to the west, they caught glimpses of the great 
 river itself, rolling along silently between heavily for- 
 ested banks. To their left, or south, they could see the 
 village of Kaskaskia, a cluster of little white houses 
 and the one big building and mill in a large cultivated 
 area, the property of the Jesuits. About three leagues 
 straight ahead to the west lay another group of houses, 
 the village of Prairie du Rocher, their future home. 
 
 44 
 
A short distance to the south of that village, they 
 saw a whitish blur among the trees along the river 
 bank. This was Fort de Chartres, the largest stone 
 fort on the American continent at that time, and the 
 headquarters of the French Government in all the 
 Illinois, Indiana and Ohio country. There were other 
 villages to the northwest, very small ones, but they 
 could not be seen from the point where the new arrivals 
 stood. They decided at once that they would march 
 directly on Prairie du Rocher, because to go by way 
 of Kaskaskia would have added another day to their 
 march d$ d£ 
 
 As they neared Prairie du Rocher, two Frenchmen 
 came galloping down the road on small ponies to meet 
 them, gesticulating wildly, in a mood of typical French 
 excitement. One of them turned around immediately 
 and galloped back to the village, to confirm the news 
 of their arrival. Antoinette and the others noted that 
 these men wore no hats, but had gay colored handker- 
 chiefs wound around their heads, turban fashion. Each 
 had on long buckskin trousers, a cotton shirt, a belt 
 or sash of bright colored material, and moccasins cov- 
 ered with beads. Later, they learned that this was 
 the standard dress for men in the colony. 
 
 Just outside the village, they were met by an escort 
 of honor, and were formally conducted to a wide open 
 space called the village common, in front of the church. 
 First marched at the head of the column, the syndic, or 
 mayor, and the priest; followed by five men playing 
 fiddles. Then came a company of soldiers from the 
 fort, commanded by the commandant in person. 
 
 45 
 
They were followed by a deputation of prominent citi- 
 zens, each carrying a small French flag. Last came 
 the new settlers. 
 
 Great hilarity prevailed, the fiddlers playing as 
 though their lives depended upon it, the people in the 
 parade singing and waving their flags, while the on- 
 lookers, including many Indians, cheered with great 
 enthusiasm. Arrived in front of the church, the syn- 
 dic, a short, round red-faced man, stepped to the front 
 and, in a high-pitched voice, addressed the crowd as 
 follows: 
 
 Messieurs et mesdames: 
 
 How wonderful it is to see you here after your 
 long voyage from our dear France! What hard- 
 ships you have suffered in making so long a jour- 
 ney amidst so many dangers both on land and on 
 sea! But then, it is to think also how happy you 
 will be here in our pretty village! And we, yes, 
 how happy are we, too! 
 
 So now, I, as syndic of Prairie du Rocher (Rocky 
 Prairie), do make you a great and warm welcome. 
 You see now what pretty and comfortable homes 
 we have; all built close together so we can easily 
 chat from house to house. You can see that we 
 have with each house, a garden for vegetables and 
 an orchard for fruits. Each family has a farm for 
 raising grain and we have mills. For our horses, 
 oxen, cows and pigs we have, right in the middle 
 of the village, a great common pasture where they, 
 too, can all live happily together. 
 
 Over there, you see our great Fort de Chartres, 
 the largest fort on this continent. It is strongly 
 built of stone, and has in it 300 French soldiers 
 under our great commandant, who is here with 
 us today. There we are sure of safe refuge in case 
 of danger. 
 
 46 
 
And here you see our church and our great cure, 
 Father Rozet. With him to lead us, we can pray to 
 God to give us always happiness and comfort, and 
 to open the eyes of the Indians so that they, too, 
 may become Christians. 
 
 Your lands are already marked out for you. To- 
 morrow, Sunday, following mass, we shall all meet 
 together here and decide when we shall begin to 
 build the houses for you. We do everything to- 
 gether as much as possible. 
 
 Our laws, as you probably know, are the same as 
 where you came from in France, namely the laws 
 which are called "The customs of Paris." And, 
 when anything unusual is to be done, our Great 
 King Louis Fourteenth always issues an edict tell- 
 ing us what to do and how it is to be done. 
 
 I wish you all well ! Long live the King ! Long 
 live France! May God bless you all! 
 
 Following this speech of welcome, each newly ar- 
 rived family was taken to the house of one of the vil- 
 lagers, there to reside pending the building of new 
 homes d£ d£ 
 
 On the following morning right after mass, the meet- 
 ing was held which the syndic had mentioned in his 
 speech. All the people assembled in front of the little 
 church. They were first addressed by Major Castel- 
 nau, the commander of Fort de Chartres and of all the 
 French territory in Illinois, which then included Fort 
 Vincennes in what we now call Indiana. The major 
 was resplendent in the blue and white uniform of the 
 French army of those days. 
 
 He informed them that all the men would be enrolled 
 in the local militia company and supplied with arms; 
 that this was the local law which provided for defense, 
 
 47 
 
if and when necessary, against attacks by Indians, not 
 so much the local Indians as Indians from other 
 regions [>£ d£ 
 
 At this announcement, Antoinette nudged her fa- 
 ther, remarking: "Mon pere, that is good; is it not? 
 I only wish that I were a man so I could join that 
 company." Her father, not yet fully aware of the 
 girl's great secret, was somewhat surprised. "Yes, 
 my daughter, it is a wise plan, but there will be men 
 enough for that." 
 
 The syndic, who had charge of all civil affairs, some- 
 what like the present duties of a mayor, next took the 
 floor, and the meeting decided that the next eommon 
 task would be the erection of houses for the newly 
 arrived settlers, and they would start the following 
 morning. They had already planted their wheat and 
 barley, or that activity would have been discussed. 
 Later, they would have a similar meeting at which 
 they would decide on the date when all the crops 
 would be harvested, everybody turning out for the com- 
 mon task. Thus, in the little French community, all 
 matters of common interest were decided at meetings 
 which all attended. There was never any thought of 
 individual enterprise or initiative, such as character- 
 ized the English colonies over on the Atlantic Coast. 
 
 48 
 
Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 IX. 
 
 FTER MASS, the newcomers had an op- 
 portunity to look at the village. An- 
 toinette was shown around by four of 
 the younger married women of the 
 town. Like most of the inhabitants 
 of Prairie du Rocher, they had come from Montreal, 
 or Quebec &$ d£ 
 
 "Our parents came from France, but we were all 
 born in Quebec/ ' one of them explained to Antoinette. 
 "That's why we talk a little different from you who 
 have come straight from France." 
 
 As they walked along the one street of the town, 
 Antoinette counted the houses, all of wood except 
 three, which were of stone and were somewhat larger 
 than the others. 
 
 "The people who live in those stone houses are quite 
 rich," remarked one of the young women. "They 
 have silver candlesticks and little silver boxes on 
 their mantelpieces, and silver framed pictures on the 
 walls. Some of them have silk dresses, too.' ' 
 
 "How did they become richer than the others?" in- 
 quired Antoinette. 
 
 "My father says they worked harder, and did not 
 waste any of their property. So of course they had 
 more. Some of them are merchants, and ship quite 
 a lot of wheat and hides and things like that to New 
 Orleans" t>£ [>£ 
 
 49 
 
"But, tell me," said the curious Antoinette, "with 
 all this empty land around here, why did they build 
 their houses so close together?* ' 
 
 "Oh, we like to talk and gossip from house to house, 
 so it is convenient to have the houses close together,* ■ 
 explained one of their companions. "It's quite lively 
 here in the evening. You'll see the men sitting on the 
 porches, playing cards and dominoes and drinking 
 wine, while the women sew and talk." 
 
 Just then they passed a middle-aged man who 
 walked rather unsteadily, but did not forget his good 
 French manners. He almost fell down as he tried to 
 bow and lift his cap. The young women all giggled 
 after he had passed. One of them explained: "That's 
 old Pierre Hobain. My father says he is no good be- 
 cause he drinks too much, but he is always pleasant 
 and polite to us.' ■ 
 
 Then they went into one of the wooden houses, the 
 home of one of the young women. A porch ran the 
 entire length of the house in front, and this was fitted 
 with a railing. As the porch was 2 or 3 feet above the 
 ground, there were steps leading up to it, about op- 
 posite the front door. The thatched roof of the house 
 was of moderate slope, and extended clear out over 
 the porch. In front, and clear around the house, was 
 a picket fence, exactly like a modern picket fence, ex- 
 cept that the pickets were not pointed but were cut off 
 square at the end. 
 
 The front door opened into a hall which ran right 
 through the house, so as to provide a through draft. 
 There were four windows in front, and the same num- 
 
 50 
 
ber behind. Rooms opened into the hall from each 
 side and, at one end of the house, there was a big fire- 
 place, with a large chimney built outside. 
 
 "Most of the wooden houses are just like this," ex- 
 plained the young woman in whose home they were. 
 "Some are built with each room opening on the porch, 
 instead of into the hall." 
 
 Antoinette thought that the furnishings of the house 
 indicated quite a degree of comfort. In each bedroom 
 there was a large bed about six feet square, with a 
 straw mattress and a feather mattress, the whole be- 
 ing shut off by curtains of green cloth. Apparently 
 there were no sheets. For children there were several 
 little cots [>£ o$ 
 
 "There seem to be many children in the village," 
 remarked Antoinette. 
 
 "Oh, yes," replied Gabrielle. "Here, each family 
 has many children, because we can have all the land 
 we want It is different from France, where the law 
 about the descent of land makes people want only one 
 or two children, as you probably know." 
 
 Against the wall were many chests, large and small, 
 plain and decorated; most of them were of walnut. 
 Here they kept their finer clothes and household dra- 
 peries, valuable documents and probably, in some cases, 
 money. There were also "armoires" or wardrobes, 
 where they kept the clothing used daily, and other 
 odds and ends. These chests and armoires were what 
 they had been used to in France. 
 
 "You didn't bring all these things with you?" ex- 
 claimed Antoinette. 
 
 51 
 
"Of course not/' explained her hostess. "We have 
 here in the village a very good cabinetmaker, Mr. 
 Beaudreau. He is kept quite busy making furniture. 
 Of course, now and then a few pieces made in France 
 come up from New Orleans." 
 
 But the kitchen was the center of all family life just 
 as it had been, and still is, in France. Around and in 
 the large fireplace, hung all the usual pots and pans 
 and kettles, spits, boilers, pokers, scrapers and other 
 utensils and equipment. 
 
 In the middle of the kitchen stood a long oaken 
 table, with several straight backed chairs of the same 
 material, for grown-ups. For the children, at meal- 
 time, some of the chests around the walls were drawn 
 up to the table. 
 
 Then, they showed Antoinette the little orchard and 
 garden back of the house. There were peach and plum 
 trees, a flower garden and a vegetable garden, where 
 all the usual vegetables grew. These exiled French 
 had brought with them all the knack for real cooking 
 that is found in France, so they had to have all the 
 necessary vegetables. 
 
 There was a well for drinking water. For washing 
 clothes, they used the great Mississippi. 
 
 "Why," exclaimed Antoinette, after looking again 
 at the exterior of the house, "this is very much like 
 the houses they have out in the country around Que- 
 bec, especially your sloping roofs that come out over 
 the porch, and your picket fences around the houses.' ' 
 
 Antoinette's remark could be made today. The 
 whole effect is seen today in the villages out east of 
 
 52 
 
Quebec, where the houses are so much like those they 
 had in Prairie du Rocher, that you can easily imagine 
 yourself back in the Illinois of the eighteenth century. 
 There is one definite difference: in the Prairie du 
 Rocher of the French days, farms were not separated 
 by fences but only by two furrows, while in the Que- 
 bec farming country of today, the French are so jeal- 
 ous as to their property rights, that every bit of land, 
 however small, is carefully fenced. In places you can 
 scarcely see the farms for the fences. 
 
 Antoinette noticed that most of the women wore 
 short overskirts about knee length, below which was 
 a long petticoat. On their feet they wore moccasins, 
 and on their heads wide brimmed straw hats which 
 they wove themselves. In the winter, so they told 
 her, they wore fur caps. Fur was plentiful and cheap. 
 
 They used for their dresses cloth which they bought 
 from traders, because the French Government pro- 
 hibited them from weaving cloth. This, in the interest 
 of French industry. It was a typical example of the 
 paternal government then existing in France. 
 
 "What are those little log cabins over there?' ' asked 
 Antoinette d£ d£ 
 
 "Oh, those are the homes of the Frenchmen who 
 have Indian wives/ ' replied Gabrielle. "We don't 
 like to have them too near us," she added. 
 
 "You don't like the red people?" said Antoinette. 
 
 "Oh, no! It isn't that. It is not their color that we 
 find fault with. It's because they are dirty and lazy 
 and absolutely undependable. They let their homes 
 get into very bad condition. If they live next door to 
 
 53 
 
you, and let their house and yard get dirty and all run 
 down, then your own property suffers. We find the 
 only sensible way is to have them live separately, 
 where they can be just as dirty as they please.' ' 
 
 "I understand that they like to go to church," said 
 Antoinette d$ d£ 
 
 "Oh, yes; it's something new, so they are interested 
 without having any understanding of it. The priests, 
 too, like to report that they have made new converts.' ' 
 
 "By the way," asked the newcomer, "how many 
 people are there here in Prairie du Rocher?" 
 
 "We have just about 125," replied Gabrielle, with 
 evident satisfaction. "There are about 200 French 
 over at Kaskaskia and a few more at Saint Philippe, 
 so here in the valley we number about 350, not count- 
 ing the garrison. Of course, we do not count the half- 
 breed children because they are not a credit to the 
 French race." She added: "We have found out that 
 the half-breed children show all the worst character- 
 istics of both parents. Apparently, it is difficult to 
 "breed up" a race. The more they intermarry, the 
 more inferior the stock becomes. But our government 
 has found that out, too, so they have prohibited any 
 further intermarriage. ,, 
 
 When Antoinette and her companions came back to 
 the village square or common, they could see the 
 farms of the settlers stretching out in long thin strips, 
 each one running down to the river. 
 
 "You see," remarked Alice, "we try to be exact and 
 just about everything, so our farms are laid out so that 
 every farmer has a little frontage on the river." 
 
 54 
 
"Yes, I know," replied Antoinette. "It's exactly 
 the same way around Quebec; all farms run to the 
 river. But what is going to happen when the village 
 becomes a large city and many more people live here, 
 I wonder?' ' d£ d£ 
 
 "It won't be so easy," chimed in Elisabeth, the 
 fourth member of the party. "My father says that 
 some day Prairie du Rocher is sure to be an immense 
 city, because of its location; that there will be many 
 great cities in the Illinois country, inhabited by mil- 
 lions of French people, just like France. He says there 
 will be many fine cobblestone roads around the great 
 cities, and thousands of carts on those roads. 
 
 "There will be great colleges and museums and 
 palaces, just like Paris. He and his friends all think 
 that Illinois will be another France, some day. How I 
 wish I could live to see all that, with the whole Illi- 
 nois country inhabited by millions of Frenchmen! 
 How wonderful it will be!" 
 
 How little they realized that, while millions of peo- 
 ple would actually inhabit Illinois in less than two 
 centuries, they would all be English speaking people, 
 and not one in a thousand of them would even know 
 that French people had been the only white inhabi- 
 tants of Illinois in the beginning. 
 
 As the French settlers built almost entirely of wood, 
 almost all of their structures have disappeared. There 
 is so little to show that they once lived, worked, loved, 
 and played happily here, just as we do now. The for- 
 tunes of war, the misfortunes of inept government, and 
 the general trend of progress have eliminated the evi- 
 
 55 
 
dences of their residence almost as thoroughly as the 
 sun so quickly removes all signs of the morning dew. 
 
 But, happily, there is just a trace of the old civiliza- 
 tion left in Prairie du Rocher. As Antoinette and her 
 friends strolled down the street that day so long, long 
 ago, they gazed unwittingly at two houses that were 
 destined to stand for many generations; in fact they 
 are still standing there, and may be seen today, though 
 they are now greatly changed in appearance. An- 
 toinette, if she could return, would not be able to rec- 
 ognize them d£ Di 
 
 One of those houses is now the home of Mrs. Adele 
 Melliere. The other is known as the "Old Louvier 
 Home" and belongs to Mr. Joseph Brewer of Prairie 
 du Rocher. It is located near the cemetery where Jean 
 St. Therese Langlois staked out the town in 1722. 
 
 Although the wide-extending roof, jutting out to 
 form the porch, identifies both these houses, the orig- 
 inal log siding has been covered with weather-board- 
 ing, the windows are of glass, and the roofs are of 
 modern materials. The old picket fences have been 
 replaced by iron fences, resting on stone foundations. 
 Gutters and downspouts complete the modern touch. 
 
 Nevertheless, those who are capable of responding 
 to the tranquillizing effect of a bit of the supernatural, 
 may easily imagine on a quiet evening that they can 
 hear along these porches the faint clink of wine glasses 
 and the low murmur of French songs; the voices of 
 happy people, who, caught here by adverse circum- 
 stances, abandoned their homes and went away, never 
 to return d$ d£ 
 
 56 
 
Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 x. 
 
 4TTT\,<fTTiyfl£K/rtTrv<rnvfr^^ 
 
 N MONDAY MORNING, everybody turned 
 out to build the new houses. Those who 
 knew something about carpentry super- 
 vised the building of the walls, which 
 were made by sinking logs upright into 
 the ground, very close to each other. The logs had 
 first been squared, and then hollowed out on two sides, 
 so that where they fitted together, there was a hollow 
 place, and into this space they poured mud and stones 
 or gravel, thus making the wall as airtight as possible. 
 
 The men who knew something about masonry, went 
 ahead with building a fireplace at one end or at both 
 ends of the house, using roughly quarried stone for 
 this purpose. They also built a large chimney for each 
 fireplace, erecting the chimney on the outside of the 
 house. Another group prepared the thatch roof for 
 each house, and the timbers to support it. The women 
 joined in all this work, and also busied themselves pre- 
 paring a big noonday meal for everybody. Some of 
 the Indians were used in lifting the heavier timbers, 
 and in doing similar work that required no special 
 intelligence c* [>$ 
 
 At first Antoinette joined in this work with some 
 interest and curiosity, but soon tired of it. She took 
 all that activity for granted, as an obvious immediate 
 necessity. Her foremost desire was to look at Fort de 
 Chartres. There, with the military, in her opinion, 
 
 57 
 
rested France's only hope of success, her only reliance 
 against the English, whom she so cordially hated. 
 
 Fortunately for the restlessness of her mind, she 
 was able the very next day to join a group of new 
 settlers, who had been invited to visit the fort. As she 
 had never before been inside a fort, she was immensely 
 impressed. The great stone gateway gave her her 
 first thrill [>$ d* 
 
 The walls, all of stone, seemed to her to be impreg- 
 nable. She saw the barracks for the soldiers, the quar- 
 ters for the officers, the chapel, the storehouses, the 
 magazine for ammunition, and several other buildings; 
 also a small parade ground. Today, only the maga- 
 zine still stands somewhat in its original condition, 
 although many of the other buildings have been very 
 well restored by the State of Illinois. After the days 
 of Antoinette, the Mississippi River, during its many 
 great floods, swept into the fort and all but obliterated 
 it entirely d£ d$ 
 
 Although Antoinette observed very keenly, she was 
 not yet so practical-minded as to realize that the walls 
 were almost five hundred feet in circumference. Nor 
 did she know that this was the largest stone fort on 
 the North American continent, and that it had cost, 
 in terms of present-day money, just about one million 
 dollars. She knew that the officers were of the French 
 nobility and were, therefore, able to buy their own 
 uniforms, in keeping with an ages-old military tradi- 
 tion. She was pleased that they appeared so well and 
 so creditably, for France. 
 
 She was greatly disappointed at the appearance of 
 
 58 
 
the soldiers, as many of their uniforms were shabby 
 and ragged. She probably did not realize that this 
 was due to the neglect and carelessness of the French 
 government, nor would she have admitted it even if 
 she had known. But there were so many soldiers that 
 Antoinette was happy. Here, she thought, was good 
 support for the ambitious project that was already 
 forming in her child's mind. She decided that she 
 would learn more and more about this garrison. 
 
 At that time, there was an Indian village near each 
 French village. As the Illinois Indians were not as 
 war-like as some of the other tribes, in what we now 
 call the Middle West, they had got the worst of it in 
 several inter-tribal wars. Their numbers had been 
 greatly reduced, and their spirit broken. For this 
 reason, and because the priests wished to convert as 
 many of them to Christianity as possible, the French 
 had moved many of the Illinii, as they were called, 
 from the northern part of the state, and settled them 
 here in the Kaskaskia region where they could be pro- 
 tected [>£ oi 
 
 Antoinette, in a vague sort of way, believed the time 
 might come, when all the Indians in the entire region 
 could be made useful to France on a large scale. So 
 she decided to become better acquainted with them, 
 and to learn their language and their customs. 
 
 There was no lack of opportunity to learn the lan- 
 guage of the Indians. Many of their women were 
 employed by the French families and, besides, there 
 were the Indian wives of some of the French. 
 
 Then too, there were the priests, most of whom had 
 
 59 
 
had to learn the Indian language, in order to carry 
 on their religious work. Most of the priests in the 
 valley were Recollets, or Quebec Seminary priests, 
 though there were a few Jesuits. But all of them were 
 willing to help Antoinette in her linguistic efforts. Her 
 mother and father wondered at her enthusiasm, espe- 
 cially as they looked upon the Indians as a dirty, 
 worthless lot, whose language, in their opinion, could 
 not possibly be worth learning. 
 
 But, despite their objection, Antoinette persisted 
 and, according to the priests, made wonderful prog- 
 ress. When she learned that the priests frequently 
 went with the Indians on their annual summer hunt for 
 game, she made it a point to ask the reverend fathers 
 many questions about the nature of the surrounding 
 regions, and the kinds of Indians they came in contact 
 with. Both the " Black Robes,' ' as the Indians called 
 the Jesuits, and the "Grey Robes/ ' their name for the 
 Recollets, gave her a great deal of useful information. 
 Secretly, she decided that when she was older she 
 would go herself on some of these expeditions. 
 
Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 XI. 
 
 ilME WORE ON. The newly arrived fami- 
 lies settled gradually into the routine of 
 Prairie du Rocher. They found their new 
 houses comfortable, even as summer 
 * fci£.$ merged into autumn, and the air grew 
 crisper and cooler. 
 
 The village, in fact, all the villages of the valley 
 were thrown into a state of great excitement one day 
 by the arrival of the royal convoy from New Orleans. 
 There were two convoys each year. On the average, 
 each convoy consisted of six or eight bateaux, or small 
 galleys, made of oak, and of 15 to 20 tons burden. 
 They were about 40 feet long and 10 feet wide, with a 
 wooden cover to protect the cargo. They were pro- 
 pelled by sails and oars. Apparently the French never 
 tried the warping and poling method, which the Amer- 
 ican settlers used so successfully at a later period, and 
 in which we know that Abraham Lincoln once took 
 part. It generally required about 90 days to come up 
 from New Orleans. Sometimes they would make the 
 return journey down stream in from 12 to 14 days. 
 The royal convoys always carried a guard of soldiers, 
 as a much needed protection against marauding In- 
 dians. The danger was greatest when they tied up to 
 the bank for the night, which they always did, because 
 navigation was difficult even in the daytime. 
 The French villagers always knew of the convoy's 
 
 61 
 
prospective arrival several days in advance, because 
 the convoy commander would send messages ahead by 
 runners, or by canoe. So everybody would plan to be 
 in Kaskaskia on the big day. The actual arrival was 
 signalled by the ringing of church bells throughout the 
 valley c* d* 
 
 Kaskaskia was the principal port for unloading, be- 
 cause there the boats found quiet water at the mouth 
 of the Kaskaskia River. Once made fast to the shore, 
 the crews began to discharge the cargoes of bales, 
 boxes and barrels under the curious and approving 
 gaze of the settlers. 
 
 Mens* clothing, cloth for women's dresses and for 
 household purposes, iron stoves, chairs, tables and 
 other furniture of French manufacture, tools, plows; 
 these were the general merchandise cargo. Then there 
 might be special supplies for Fort de Chartres, such as 
 arms, ammunition and uniform clothing. Another ar- 
 ticle that sometimes came was money, that is to say, 
 metal money for small transactions, because there was 
 always a shortage along this line. It was difficult to 
 keep in circulation, because the people would hide it 
 away against a rainy day. The French have always 
 been expert at this, both at home and abroad. So 
 scarce was money in the valley, that beaver skins and 
 other furs were generally used as money in ordinary 
 transactions. For large deals, a man might use ware- 
 house receipts, which represented goods which he had 
 placed in the government warehouse in New Orleans, 
 these being recognized as legal tender. 
 
 For the return trip to New Orleans, the bateaux 
 
 62 
 
were loaded with wheat and other grain, hides, certain 
 types of lumber and other products of the farm and 
 forest. In other words, the settlement exported prod- 
 ucts of the soil, and imported manufactured articles. 
 A few passengers might also board the bateaux for 
 New Orleans; perhaps some of the military personnel 
 from the fort, or some venturesome trader who hoped 
 to find attractive bargains in the "big city." 
 
 So the arrival of the royal convoy was a gala occa- 
 sion; one of the biggest of the year. Occasionally there 
 were private convoys, too, though merchants always 
 tried to have their private boats attached to royal 
 convoys, because it was much safer. 
 
J 
 
 ? 
 
 Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 XII. 
 
 11<HMMH)I1IIIMIM1HI1I| . 
 InrS^^^HESE FRENCH PEOPLE in Prairie du 
 Rocher and the other villages, these first 
 white Illinoisans, had plenty of social life. 
 The French are naturally a gay people, and 
 ' B there is nothing in the record to show that 
 isolation here in the heart of the continent made any 
 marked change in their natures. In fact, it is safe to 
 say that the inhabitants of a French settlement got 
 more out of life by way of pleasure, than did a corre- 
 sponding English-American village. 
 
 Every Sunday night there was a dance in one of the 
 larger houses, attended by almost everyone, includ- 
 ing the priest. To these affairs, the younger officers 
 and their wives from Fort de Chartres brought some 
 of the social graces and frills of the nobility of France, 
 to say nothing of the brilliancy of their uniforms and 
 the elegance of some of the gowns, modeled after the 
 latest Paris fashions brought up the river from New 
 Orleans, probably two years out of date, but still "the 
 latest/ ' Then, too, some of the older inhabitants had 
 accumulated wealth and, on social occasions, they too 
 would venture a certain elegance and richness of dress. 
 When Antoinette attained her sixteenth birthday, 
 she was allowed to attend these dances. Although she 
 enjoyed herself, she could not have been described as 
 an outstanding social success. She was probably a bit 
 too serious minded, and besides, she was at an awk- 
 
 64 
 
ward age; an awkwardness that had a touch of reality, 
 because she was so unusually tall for her years. Boys 
 of her own age, or anywhere near it, seemed embar- 
 rassed by her superior height, and older men tended 
 to cluster around the more frivolous women of more 
 experience m d$ 
 
 As the French are naturally democratic in their at- 
 titude, these parties were probably attended by all 
 three social classes of the village. There was the of- 
 ficial class, the wealthy class and the * 'habitants,' ' as 
 all the remainder of the people were called. Of course, 
 there was much conversation. Necessarily so, because 
 they were all French. They talked about the same 
 things that we do today, except railroads, steamships, 
 airplanes, electricity, radio, television, because of these 
 things they had not even dreamed. Nor did they talk 
 about divorce, because they were all Catholics and the 
 church attended to that interesting subject. 
 
 It is safe to say that at these large gatherings, the 
 most common remarks were, for example: "Fin glad 
 to see you out and around again.' ' "Sorry you 
 couldn't come to my card party." "Are you going to 
 Madame X's party on Saturday night," "Too bad 
 about the little Rivard boy breaking his leg. Parents 
 should watch their children more closely." "By the 
 way, has Mercier let you sample that new wine he 
 got by the last convoy? It's magnificent. Better drop 
 over and see him. ' ' ' 'M-m-m, take a look at that young 
 Mrs. Blank over there. Cute, isn't she?" "I think 
 it's a shame the way our village authorities let the 
 fence around the village commons get out of repair. 
 
 65 
 
I'm going to write a letter about that." "They tell 
 me that Martin is going to take a trip to New Orleans, 
 again. I wonder where he gets the money." 
 
 Such was their line of conversation; such was the 
 type of remarks made when the socialites of Babylon 
 flocked to one of Nebucadnezzar's big parties in the 
 Hanging Gardens; in such vein chattered the Athe- 
 nians when they went up on the Acropolis to the big 
 party that Phidias threw, when he opened the Par- 
 thenon, and so do we talk today. 
 
 Antoinette and her father made it a point to visit 
 the other villages, taking advantage of Sundays and 
 holidays, there being so many of the latter, that it was 
 said to have been an interference with the prosperity 
 of the settlement. Kaskaskia, to the east, was much 
 like Prairie du Rocher, only somewhat larger. Saint 
 Philippe, to the west, was much smaller. 
 
 These villages have all disappeared or been moved 
 to another site, since those days, except Prairie du 
 Rocher, where there are still two houses that are said 
 to be of the original community. Some of the towns- 
 people of today are said to be descendants of the 
 French of Antoinette's time. But the people there no 
 longer speak French. In fact they do not call their 
 town by its pretty French name, pronounced "Pray- 
 ree du Rochay." They now call it "Roacher!" 
 
 Life at Prairie du Rocher would have been insuf- 
 ferably dull for an enterprising people, full of thoughts 
 of individual freedom, and ambitious to improve their 
 standard of living. But most of these settlers were 
 French peasants, accustomed through countless gen- 
 
 66 
 
erations to a fixed mode of life. Nor were they allowed 
 much choice, governed as they were by so much direc- 
 tion from Paris. So one year was very much like an- 
 other in this quiet, remote but happy valley. 
 
 But with Antoinette it was a little different; she was 
 so continuously occupied in planning for the mission 
 in life which she had selected for herself, though for 
 two years she said very little about it. She visited the 
 Indian villages in the neighborhood, talked with the 
 priests and with the officers and soldiers of the garri- 
 son, until she had literally exhausted all local sources 
 of information. 
 
 Naturally, a young woman of her unusual appear- 
 ance attracted men, and there were several who at- 
 tempted to pay her serious attention. All in vain. She 
 was not interested. This was shocking to her father 
 and mother, who were firm believers in early marriage, 
 and who were prepared to contribute a substantial dot. 
 
 By the time she had attained her eighteenth birth- 
 day, Antoinette was a striking, almost Amazon-like 
 creature. She stood just six feet in her moccasins; her 
 shoulders were fairly broad, her hips of the narrow 
 rather than the bulging type; her torso well developed. 
 By natural inclination and, perhaps through observing 
 the Indians, she carried herself very erect, and walked 
 with a lithe stride. Her dark complexion, with just 
 a glow of red, and her jet black hair, caused the In- 
 dians to believe in a dull, vague sort of way that she 
 must have come originally from the same stock as 
 themselves d£ d$ 
 
 As a matter of fact, she inherited some of these char- 
 
 67 
 
acteristics through her mother, who came originally 
 from the south of France, down where the Eastern 
 Pyrennes terminate on the shores of the Mediterra- 
 nean. When the Arabs, or Moors, crossed over from 
 Africa, and conquered the southern part of Spain in 
 the year A.D. 705, they established themselves so se- 
 curely that they remained there for seven hundred 
 years. During that long period of time, some of their 
 blood naturally intermingled, not only with the Span- 
 iards', but with that of the French, who lived right 
 across the border. Traces of Moorish blood can be 
 seen there today, very definitely. 
 
 Antoinette's thick, black hair; her dark complexion; 
 her black, deep-set eyes and their penetrating glance, 
 with a definite touch of command; her unusual height 
 and her graceful carriage; all these were her Arab 
 inheritance, however remote it may have been, while 
 her strong body, her poise and her apparent aloofness 
 came from her father's side of the house, descendants 
 of the hardy Norman invaders of the northern shores 
 of France. The fire that burned so secretly in her 
 soul would have come from the Arab blood; her cour- 
 age and her persistence were Norman traits. 
 
 Antoinette's parents were not happy about her un- 
 usual obsessions and her strong tendency toward ad- 
 venture, though they secretly admired her fearless 
 super-patriotism. Her father had prospered. He was 
 a hard worker, and had made money out of his farm. 
 With these earnings, and the money he had brought 
 from France, he built a small windmill for grinding 
 grain, and this increased his income. 
 
 68 
 
Thus, Antoinette's home life was comfortable, but 
 not even this caused her to swerve in the slightest de- 
 gree from her chosen mission. In the meantime, her 
 influence over the Indians grew apace. 
 
 They were deeply impressed, not only by her 
 physique, but by her dignity and her aloofness, traits 
 which appealed to them. So much so that, among 
 themselves, they always referred to her as "Daughter 
 of the Great Spirit." 
 
 After she felt certain that she had thoroughly indoc- 
 trinated her local Indians with anti-English propa- 
 ganda, Antoinette visited the Spanish-French settle- 
 ment of St. Louis, talked with the Indians there, and 
 sent some of the young bucks with inflammatory mes- 
 sages to the Dacotahs, the Sioux, the Pawnees and other 
 western tribes [>$ d$ 
 
 She accompanied one group of Indians into Ken- 
 tucky, where she talked with the Shawnees and Chero- 
 kees, but withdrew quickly when she sensed great 
 danger, because those tribes had already been success- 
 fully contacted by English colonists from the South 
 Atlantic colonies. 
 
Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 xm. 
 
 HROUGH HER OWN local Indian followers, 
 Antoinette had sent messages to some of 
 the Illinois Indians, who still remained 
 along the lower stretches of the Illinois 
 River. But there was one region where 
 some of them lived, which she wished to visit, and that 
 was the country around the upper Kaskaskia and the 
 upper Sangamon. She believed it would be practicable 
 to go up the Kaskaskia by canoe, then portage to the 
 Sangamon, going down that stream to the Illinois. 
 
 Some people still call the Kaskaskia the Okaw 
 River. That is because the French considered the let- 
 ter "s M a silent letter in their own language, and so 
 their pronunciation was "kaw kaw kia. M And, as 
 they generally spoke in the sense of "at M or "on" the 
 river, they said "aux kawkawkia," pronouncing it 
 * ' Oh kawkawkia' ' ; so the short form became ' * Okaw. ' ' 
 With five Indians selected from among her most 
 trusted followers, and with three good-sized canoes, 
 Antoinette started up the Kaskaskia. They progressed 
 rapidly, two to a canoe. As Antoinette plied a strong 
 oar herself, she was not merely a passenger. Her bag- 
 gage required considerable space, because she always 
 carried many presents for the Indians, and also her 
 own ceremonial garments. On journeys she went bare- 
 legged, like the Indians, but once in camp she always 
 put on her ceremonial clothes. 
 
 70 
 
The river, at that time, carried far more water than 
 it does now, so the going was good; fallen trees and 
 caved-in banks being about the only obstacles to their 
 steady advance. The valley was heavily wooded, and 
 enough game and fish were easily obtained for so small 
 a party [>$ d* 
 
 When they came to what is now Clinton County, 
 they entered a tributary, which is now called Shoal 
 Creek. In what is now Bond County, they ascended 
 the West Fork of Shoal Creek, because it seemed to 
 have deeper water. 
 
 In the present Montgomery County, at a point not 
 many miles from where now stand the cities of Litch- 
 field and Hillsboro, they found they had reached the 
 limit of progress by water, so they hid their canoes 
 and started northwest on foot, distributing the bag- 
 gage among the six individuals, who arranged it in 
 packs which they carried on their backs — nothing un- 
 usual for any of them. Then they followed a stream 
 now known as "The Branch.' ' 
 
 Early that afternoon, Antoinette and her party made 
 camp on the bank of The Branch at a point about one 
 mile east of the center of the present city of Litchfield. 
 Fortunately, the place where she camped is easily 
 identified, even at this late date. At this point, there 
 stood at that time on the east bank of the stream a great 
 elm tree, towering very straight to a height of perhaps 
 a hundred feet. Opposite the elm tree, on the other 
 side of the stream, a bank of red clay rose almost sheer 
 to a height of about twenty feet. In this bank swal- 
 lows, in great numbers, had drilled holes for their 
 
 71 
 
nests. Off to the north and west, the rolling prairie 
 trended to the horizon. About a mile to the north, in 
 a straight line, there could be seen another elm tree 
 growing by the side of The Branch, just where an- 
 other stream entered it from the west. Both the elm 
 trees have disappeared during the past fifty years, and 
 the bank of red clay has been somewhat graded down, 
 but their exact locations can still be pointed out by 
 people who know the country well. 
 
 After putting her people in camp, Antoinette donned 
 her ceremonial garments, and paced up and down 
 across a sunny slope that led up to the east; a gentle 
 slope covered with a curious kind of short grass, with 
 here and there a tall mullen stalk, and bunches of 
 white flowered dog-fennel, or the bulging blue blos- 
 soms of the thistle. 
 
 This slope may be seen today in almost the same 
 condition as it was at that time. It leads from The 
 Branch up to the level area where now stands the old 
 Davis mansion, occupied by a family of that name for 
 the past seventy-five years. 
 
 On this gentle green slope Antoinette appeared to 
 startling advantage. Her long, deerskin trousers, 
 mustard yellow in color, the seams heavily fringed, 
 accentuated her unusual height. Her moccasins were 
 gay with beads of many colors. Her long, loose fitting 
 coat of deerskin was heavily fringed along the front, 
 and at the cuffs and pockets. 
 
 Down over her breast, there cascaded a thick sheet 
 of beads, red, yellow, blue, green and white, with many 
 tufts of brilliant hued feathers of hummingbirds, red 
 
 72 
 
birds, canaries and bluebirds. The same device cov- 
 ered her shoulders and back, being fastened under the 
 arms to the sheet of beads in front. Thus, the whole 
 covering resembled a brilliantly colored cuirass. 
 
 Her hair was parted in the middle, the wavy black 
 masses on each side of the part being held in place by 
 a broad bandeau, made of small red shells fastened to 
 cloth. Two long braids fell down her back, Indian 
 fashion d£ Di 
 
 As she walked back and forth, she stopped now and 
 then to gaze intently toward the north. Apparently 
 she was expecting someone. But, as the afternoon 
 wore on, no one appeared. Once a red fox appeared 
 in a near-by gulley, stopped when he saw her, and 
 quickly disappeared. Three wolves loped across the 
 prairie some distance to the north, stopped to drink 
 from The Branch, and then passed out of sight to the 
 east d£ Di 
 
 As the late afternoon light faded, the sun poised for 
 a moment on the horizon directly behind the tall elm 
 tree, and slowly submerged in a sea of shining crimson. 
 Antoinette rejoined her party at the campfire, dark- 
 ness came down, and the little valley began to sparkle 
 with the lights of thousands of fireflies. 
 
 Before going to sleep, the Indians smeared their 
 faces and bodies with the juice of a white berry they 
 called "wishwish"— a sure protection against mos- 
 quitoes. Antoinette used the same preventive on her 
 face and hands. The little stream, which, in those days 
 carried almost a foot of water at that point throughout 
 the year, purled and gurgled and tinkled in the silence 
 
 73 
 
of the night. From the topmost branch of the elm 
 tree, a nighthawk, rising occasionally, dived and dived 
 again, with his miniature airplane zoom, feasting 
 busily on bugs that rose unwarily from the security 
 of the grass. 
 
 The next morning two of the Indians went out to 
 search for game in a great wooded tract that began 
 immediately to the south.* Two others went out over 
 the prairies to the west. By noon both parties had 
 returned with plenty of food: six prairie-chickens, two 
 pigeons, a possum and an eel. Near the camp, black- 
 berries grew in profusion. In fact, game and berries 
 were so plentiful in those days, that Antoinette and 
 her companions lived easily off the country. All they 
 carried with them was a little salt. 
 
 •A part of this wooded tract exists today in the form of a park-like 
 area, fronting on one of the principal avenues of the city of Litchfield, 
 and owned by the Henrichs family. Its identification is complete. 
 
Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 XIV. 
 s& AAAAAAAAAAAAAMA 
 BOUT THE MIDDLE of the morning 
 Antoinette returned to her observation 
 post near the top of the slope. Early 
 in the afternoon her gaze to the north 
 was rewarded. A few specks in the 
 distance gradually developed into the shapes of men 
 and, as they approached, she made out a party of fif- 
 teen Indians, marching in characteristic single file. 
 Soon they were fording The Branch at her camp site 
 and their leader, apparently recognizing her, saluted 
 Antoinette Indian fashion. 
 
 She led them to the campfire, around which they 
 seated themselves silently and solemnly. Their chief, 
 a man probably a little more than middle age, looked 
 much older. From his features and manner of talk, 
 Antoinette saw that he belonged to the Illinois tribe. 
 From him she learned that his name was "Face-like- 
 Horse," a member of the Sangamo group. His long 
 nose, with large nostrils, his heavy cheek bones, and 
 his big ears, indicated that he was well named. 
 
 As a preliminary to conversation, the chief produced 
 a long pipe, filled it with tobacco, and lighted it with 
 an ember from the fire. Antoinette quickly produced 
 her own pipe and joined the chief in smoking, an art 
 which she had been careful to learn during her contact 
 with the Indians at Prairie du Rocher. 
 First, old "Face-like-Horse" looked about the little 
 
 75 
 
valley with a satisfied air and remarked: * * When I was 
 a little boy, my people had a village right here on this 
 spot. I remember this elm tree. And you see those 
 three crab-apple trees over there, standing around that 
 little depression? That is where we children played. 
 Those bank swallows were here then, too. They were 
 very clever, because they dug the holes for their nests 
 so far below the top of the bank, that we could not 
 reach them from above, and so far up from the bot- 
 tom, that we could not climb up to them on account of 
 the crumbling earth. 
 
 "It was a good place for a village. We had plenty 
 of game and, because we were not on a large stream, 
 we were never discovered by our enemies. We raised 
 four crops of maize and beans here, but finally moved 
 because this valley is flooded every spring." 
 
 A pleasant smile broke over the old chief's face as 
 memory brought back his happy childhood. And his 
 statements seem to be verified by the fact that, within 
 the memory of men now living, many Indian arrow- 
 heads of flint have been found along the stream-bed 
 very near this point. 
 
 1 'And where will you go from here, Oh Chief V ' asked 
 Antoinette d£ d£ 
 
 "After hearing that you might be in this region," 
 he replied, "I decided that I would try to meet you, 
 and then go on to Piasa to make my devotions to my 
 Manitou, the great painting on the bluff. See, this 
 one I carry with me." 
 
 With that he produced a small wood carving, which 
 was a crude reproduction or representation of the mys- 
 
 76 
 
terious painting which, until recent years, was visible 
 on the bluffs near Piasa. It was the custom of every 
 Indian to have a manitou or Deity or good-luck token, 
 which he worshiped assiduously in order that his 
 earthly affairs might be blessed with good fortune or, 
 conversely, that he might be protected against the 
 many evil spirits which he believed were all about him. 
 
 After an appropriate silence, Antoinette revealed 
 her mission. She warned the chief that the English- 
 Americans were gradually moving to the west; that 
 they were already building forts, and making settle- 
 ments in the Ohio country. 
 
 Many more were moving from their lands along the 
 Atlantic Coast, and up over the Allegheny Mountains, 
 then hurrying down along the watercourses that led to 
 "La Belle Riviere/ ' as the Ohio River was then called 
 by the French. They were bringing their women, chil- 
 dren and household effects with them; a bad sign, she 
 thought [>£ ui 
 
 "These English- Americans are a cruel, avaricious 
 people/ ' she continued. "And they are the allies of 
 our worst enemies, the Iroquois. You know how badly 
 the Iroquois have treated us French and Indians.' ' 
 
 1 ' Yes, ' ' interrupted the chief. ' ' I know the Iroquois 
 only too well. Even in the days of my grandfather 
 they came upon us from the East, like a great storm. 
 They burned our villages and crops and killed our 
 people. In fact, they drove my people completely out 
 of the Chicagou country and from the upper reaches 
 of the Illinois River. The Iroquois are cruel and selfish. 
 What makes it worse is that they are strong and well 
 
 77 
 
organized. Still worse, they are well supplied with 
 arms by the English- Americans." A look of resent- 
 ment passed over the old chief's face. 
 
 "Well then," exclaimed Antoinette, "we must unite 
 and destroy these enemies; we French and Indians! 
 Surely you must know how kind the French have been 
 to the Indians. Our "Black Robes' ' and our "Grey 
 Robes" have been among the Indians since before the 
 time of your great grandfather. They are the agents 
 of the Great Spirit, himself. Their only thought is to 
 care for the children of God, whether they be Indians 
 or French. To do this, they have suffered every con- 
 ceivable hardship. 
 
 "Unlike the English- Americans, we do not try to 
 take your lands and and hunting grounds away from 
 you." [She probably did not know that the French 
 government had granted millions of acres to French 
 companies and French individuals, for development as 
 they pleased.] 
 
 "We are asking the strong tribes on the other side 
 of the Great Water [the Mississippi River] to join us,' ' 
 continued Antoinette, "the Sioux, the Dacotahs, the 
 Pawnees and the Osage. Already we know that the 
 tribes to the north, the Foxes, the Winnebagoes, the 
 Potawatomies, and the Kickapoos, will join us if only 
 to avenge themselves on the Iroquois. Many more 
 French soldiers are coming. Do you not know, Oh 
 Chief, that the French King is King of all the kings 
 in the great land beyond the sea! He has riches far 
 greater than all the riches in this land, and his sol- 
 diers are more numerous than all the leaves on all the 
 
 78 
 
trees that you can see here! As you know, he has 
 built near here the greatest fort in all the world! 
 
 "Come, join us! Have all your people join us! 
 Let us destroy the Iroquois! Let us drive the English 
 out of the Ohio country, burn the Pennsylvania settle- 
 ments, where the people have been so cruel to the In- 
 dians. Let us move on into the country called Vir- 
 ginia and Maryland! We must capture their young 
 leader, Georges Watchtingtone, and finally drive them 
 all into the sea! Only in this way can we live in peace 
 here in the country of the Illinii! 
 
 "Wake up, Oh Chief, prepare your people for the 
 warpath. I will give the signal! Yes, before the sec- 
 ond snow from now; before we have eaten the maize of 
 next summer's harvest!' ' 
 
 The old chief listened intently as she spoke in ex- 
 cited tones, her black eyes flashing with every word. 
 After a long silence, he nodded his head slowly: "It 
 shall be so, Oh Daughter of the Great Spirit! 1 ' Then, 
 after another moment of silence, he added: "I go now 
 to Piasa to beseech the blessing of my manitou." 
 
 As he spoke, a red-headed woodpecker, high up in 
 the elm tree, drummed and drummed repeatedly; his 
 preview of the drums of war. As the light of the 
 afternoon sun began to fade the old chief and his four- 
 teen warriors disappeared in the wooded area to the 
 south, on their way to Piasa. 
 
 During the next few days, Antoinette conducted her 
 party north until she came to the upper waters of the 
 Sangamo. Here she traded with the Indians, and ha- 
 rangued them on the subject of war. Finally, she ob- 
 
 79 
 
tained three new canoes, and embarked in them for 
 the trip over to the Illinois River. During the next 
 few months she visited Indians along the upper Illi- 
 nois, finally coming to Lake Michigan, where stood a 
 tiny village which they called Chicagou. 
 
 As there were only a few Indians at this place, and 
 as it was swept by rains and fog much of the time, she 
 tarried there only a few days, and then started on her 
 return journey, going all the way down the Illinois 
 to the Mississippi, making another visit to the village 
 called Saint Louis, and finally arriving back at Prairie 
 du Rocher oi d^ 
 
 On the second night after her return, a dinner was 
 given in her honor; a great dinner in one of the larg- 
 est houses. The menu included all kinds of game and 
 fish, imported wines, wines of the country, and the 
 vegetables that the villagers had raised in their own 
 gardens with seeds brought from France. 
 
 The wealthier citizens and the commandant of Fort 
 de Chartres contributed enough silver to make the 
 table sparkle. Each of the women had a knife and 
 fork, but the men were given only a fork as it was 
 their custom to use their hunting knives at the table. 
 In true French fashion, there was at each plate a small 
 metal or glass device, on which each guest placed his 
 knife and fork between courses, and then used them 
 for the next course. This saved washing them or sup- 
 plying fresh cutlery for each course. 
 
 By this time, almost everyone was aware of An- 
 toinette's ambition and many felicitous speeches were 
 made, though in guarded phrases. 
 
 80 
 
Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 xv. 
 
 ;T WAS ABOUT THIS TIME that a young man 
 came into Antoinette's life. She found him 
 attractive, despite the fact, maybe on account 
 of the fact, that he was a "coureur de bois." 
 He had the good looks, the physique, the air 
 of romance, the dash and the mystery associated with 
 that unusual group of men. 
 
 The "coureurs de bois," literally "runners of the 
 forest/ ' liberally "rangers of the forest/ ' were actu- 
 ally trappers. In all the history of the white man's 
 conquest of distant lands, there seems to be no case 
 parallel to that of the "coureurs de bois, ,, individual 
 adventurers who as individuals, advanced far ahead 
 of the settlers, far ahead even of the army, carrying 
 on their affairs supported solely by their own courage 
 and their own wits. 
 
 It came about in this way. No sooner had the 
 French established their first small settlements in 
 Canada back in 1603, than they became obsessed with 
 the possibilities of the trade in furs. They found that 
 they could buy the pelts of beavers from the Indians 
 for almost nothing, and sell them in Europe for very 
 high prices. And the supply seemed inexhaustible. 
 
 Thus, many young Frenchmen from the villages of 
 Quebec and Montreal became trappers or "coureurs 
 de bois," as the French called them. They worked 
 along both shores of all the Great Lakes; far north 
 
 81 
 
in Canada; all through the northern part of the Illi- 
 nois country before any settlers came there; and far, 
 far to the west, following the Missouri River and the 
 River Platte clear up to Montana in the north, and into 
 southern Colorado to the south. No one knows just 
 how far they did go. 
 
 Enterprising, courageous and tireless as the Jesuit 
 priests were in the pursuit of the Indians' souls, they 
 were far surpassed by the "coureurs de bois" in the 
 latters* pursuit of beaver skins. These trappers not 
 only caught beavers and other fur-bearing animals 
 in their own traps, but they traded with Indians for 
 any pelts that the latter had obtained. After a year 
 or so in the far wilderness, leading the life of Indians, 
 these trappers would return to some trading post on 
 the Great Lakes or on the Mississippi River, there to 
 sell their large loads of furs. 
 
 Then, with pockets fairly bulging with money, they 
 would go on a tremendous spree in some settlement, as 
 Prairie du Rocher, for example. The average "cou- 
 reur" would remain drunk as long as his money lasted, 
 making a general nuisance of himself, lurching along 
 the streets, singing and cursing at the top of his voice. 
 At the end of his spree, quite worn out with gaiety, 
 and with money all gone, he seldom failed to visit the 
 local priest to have his sins washed away. After his 
 wash, duly penitent, but full of renewed energy and 
 thirsting for further adventure, he would return to 
 his beloved but distant wilderness. 
 
 The Jesuit priests heartily disapproved of the 
 "coureurs," not only on account of the wild, dissolute 
 
 82 
 
lives that most of them lived, but because they gen- 
 erally had Indian wives or at least lived with Indian 
 women, thus acquiring much influence among the 
 tribesmen; a very bad influence, it was thought. 
 
 Unfortunately for history, few, if any, of these 
 "coureurs de bois" could write, so their remarkable 
 adventures and discoveries went unrecorded. How- 
 ever, some of the priests obtained accounts from them, 
 and reduced these to writing. 
 
 It was the Jesuits, probably, who recorded the story 
 of a few "coureurs de bois" who, far up the south 
 branch of the River Platte, in what is now Colorado, 
 encountered a small detachment of Spanish soldiers 
 who had come up from Mexico. In that remote coun- 
 try, out among the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, 
 these few Frenchmen and few Spaniards, together with 
 some of their respective Indian allies, fought a pitched 
 battle on a small scale, on behalf of their respective 
 countries then at war in Europe. 
 
 But, to get back to the individual "coureur de bois" 
 who had taken a fancy to Antoinette. His name was 
 Edouard TSmeraire. He had probably been attracted 
 to the girl in the first place because of the fact that she 
 was so tall, he himself being six feet three. 
 
 But fidouard also felt Antoinette's personality to 
 be challenging in the extreme. Up to that time, he had 
 been accustomed to bowling over any opposition that 
 he met. He had fought white men; he had fought 
 Indians and, on one occasion, armed only with a hunt- 
 ing knife, he had conquered a wildcat, single handed. 
 
 Now, for the first time in his life, he feared that he 
 
 83 
 
had met his match. His storms of bravado and boast- 
 ing, and his assertions of self-aggrandizement did not 
 seem to register with this quiet, self-possessed girl. 
 Her amiable aloofness was baffling and when she 
 turned on her slow, inscrutable smile, fidouard felt 
 that he was not getting anywhere — nor was he. It was 
 the same elusive, mysterious smile that Leonardo da 
 Vinci had captured, two centuries before, when he 
 painted the famous Mona Lisa. 
 
 It could be said that Antoinette belonged to the nat- 
 uralist school in her appreciation of men. To her, 
 fidouard was merely a specimen, an interesting one, 
 yet merely a specimen, to be examined and appraised. 
 Love played very little part in her life. It was not that 
 Nature had failed to endow her with this basic emo- 
 tion; it had simply been crowded out of her life by 
 her great overpowering obsession: her conviction that 
 the English must be held back, forced to retire beyond 
 the Alleghenies, crowded against the Atlantic coast 
 and there be destroyed; all for the security, the honor 
 and the glory of her beloved France. And all of this 
 was her personal mission, she thought, if her life could 
 be spared to that end. The spirit of Joan of Arc was 
 always by her side. 
 
 Edouard, she thought, might be useful for her pur- 
 pose, if he had enough influence with other "coureurs 
 de bois" and with the Indians west of the Mississippi. 
 If he could mobilize all these, he certainly would be 
 an ideal leader for these hosts from beyond "The 
 Great Water.' ' So she held Edouard in the mesh of 
 her fascination for possible future employment. 
 
 84 
 
Antoinette of Illinois 
 
 XVI. 
 
 S THE DAY APPROACHED for the cele- 
 J/(aS\ ^ration of Antoinette's "Saint's Day," 
 the village decided to make it a great 
 occasion. Edouard Temeraire, the 
 "coureur," decided to swear off the 
 drinking of liquor as his contribution to the anni- 
 versary, a real sacrifice, indeed. Inwardly, Edouard 
 felt that this might only be a temporary measure, but 
 he was sure it would please Antoinette. Bossu, the 
 devoted fellow townsman from La Candide, offered his 
 services as general manager of the celebration. 
 
 On the day before the great event, Antoinette was 
 greatly depressed by the news that the English had 
 won a great victory over the French in the region 
 between New England and the Saint Lawrence River. 
 They were advancing on Quebec and Montreal. She 
 slept very little that night because of her anxiety over 
 this reversal to French arms. 
 
 She dreamed of Joan of Arc, her great services, and 
 her sad fate. Actually, Antoinette had never known 
 that Joan had met her fate because the French them- 
 selves, or at least the Burgundians, had really sold 
 Joan to the English, who had then burned her at the 
 stake. They called it a ransom, but no one ever ex- 
 plained by what theory the English had a right to 
 ransom the Maid of Orleans. At any rate, Antoinette 
 spent a sleepless and tearful night. 
 
 85 
 
Early next morning, she went over to Fort de 
 Chartres to gain renewed courage by talking with the 
 soldiers, and looking at their stores of ammunition 
 and other military supplies. She was consoled by the 
 officers ' good cheer, and their optimistic view of the 
 approaching hostilities. 
 
 Before leaving the fort, she entered the little chapel 
 there and prayed at length for the success of her plans, 
 now that the great crisis seemed imminent. She added 
 to her prayer a message to the soul of Joan of Arc: 
 
 "Oh, Jeanne," she prayed, "may God give me 
 courage equal to yours. Last night, in my dreams, 
 I saw you as you burned at the stake. You were 
 enveloped in a sheet of white flame, a martyr's 
 shroud, but there was a look of great peace on your 
 face. If my plans are destined to fail, may I too 
 die in the same way for my people! Amen!" 
 
 Just before noon, all the people of the village as- 
 sembled in front of the church. The old priest, Father 
 Rozet, whisked busily about, talking with his parish- 
 ioners. It was not a promising day so far as the 
 weather was concerned. An immense inky black cloud 
 hovered threateningly low overhead. 
 
 As the hour neared, Antoinette was seen approach- 
 ing from the direction of the fort. As she came nearer, 
 she stopped in the middle of the village common about 
 200 yards from the church, and prepared to draw the 
 sword which she always wore when she went to the fort. 
 She wished to salute the congregation who were there 
 to do her honor. 
 
 86 
 
Grasping the hilt of the sword, she swiftly drew out 
 the blade. It seemed to quiver in the air for a moment 
 as she held it high above her head in prolongation of 
 her extended arm. Just at that instant, in the midst 
 of a terrific crash of thunder, a great bolt of lightning 
 leaped from the black, low hanging cloud. It struck 
 squarely on the tip of her sword. Enshrouded in a 
 sheet of white flame, Antoinette crashed lifeless on the 
 greensward of the common! The great black cloud 
 seemed to burst open releasing a torrent of water on 
 the assembled crowd. 
 
 With a deep cry of anguish, the congregation rushed 
 to the poor burned body and carried it into the church. 
 Though her body was burned to a crisp, her face was 
 untouched and it bore a look of great peace. The old 
 priest, with arms uplifted from his ashen face, fol- 
 lowed the body, intoning repeatedly: 
 
 "Requiescat in pace! 
 Requiescat in pace!" 
 
 Thus perished Antoinette of Illinois, and, with her, 
 all the hopes and aspirations of her people! 
 
 •»» s|s H* V •»» H* 
 
 Because of conditions imposed by the climate and 
 in keeping with local custom, the funeral of Antoinette 
 was held on the following day. The sorrowful news 
 had spread throughout the valley with unbelievable 
 speed, and the entire population, both French and 
 Indian, attended the last rites. 
 
 The cortege, as it wound its way along the prairie 
 road from the village to the fort, was a long, living 
 
 87 
 
symbol of sorrow. Men and women walked with bowed 
 heads and heavy, listless steps behind the bier, on 
 which rested the open coffin covered with wild flowers. 
 Little children trudged along, not quite sure what it 
 was all about. The entire group chanted as they 
 walked along. A long plume of thick, brown dust 
 hung close to the ground, after the column passed, 
 almost motionless in the still, sultry air. 
 
 As they entered the fort, the flag of France was 
 lowered in silent salute. The men of the garrison, 
 formed on the parade-ground, presented arms as the 
 body was carried into the little chapel where Antoinette 
 had so frequently sought spiritual solace. After 
 the service, the body was interred just outside the 
 chapel on the side toward the wall. 
 
 Certainly her last resting place here within these 
 strong walls would be secure, so they thought. But 
 they had not reckoned with the irresistible power of 
 the mighty Mississippi. Year after year, the uncon- 
 trolled Giant stream, never a respecter of man-made 
 structures, threw its great strength against the walls 
 of the fort and gradually obliterated them. Even the 
 buildings inside the fort, with one exception, were 
 destroyed. One spring, many years after the fort had 
 been abandoned and completely neglected, there was 
 a series of unusually heavy floods, during which the 
 whole side of the fort where Antoinette was buried was 
 undermined and completely swept away. Thus the 
 last resting place of Antoinette of Illinois passed into 
 oblivion d£ d$ 
 
 Throughout the valley, gloom long prevailed after 
 
 88 
 
the death of Antoinette. Edouard Temeraire, the bois- 
 terous but gallant "coureur de bois," disappeared into 
 the mysterious spaces of the vast country west of the 
 Mississippi, never to be seen again. Bossu, deeply 
 affected, returned to France the following year to look 
 after the estate which his rich uncle had left him. He 
 took with him, down the river to New Orleans, Antoi- 
 nette's grief -stricken parents. Their only remaining 
 desire was to resume the old life in France. 
 
 When the English came to the valley and took pos- 
 session, most of the French departed either to New 
 Orleans or to Saint Louis. Within a very few years 
 the victorious Americans came, to displace the English. 
 Upon this, all the remaining French departed, save a 
 few whose descendants still live in Prairie du Rocher, 
 survivors of life under three flags. 
 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 Centennial History of Illinois, Vol. I, Chapters I to II incl. 
 
 The Bibliography of the Centennial History of Illinois, See 
 Vol. I, pages 465 to 494, incl. 
 
 Kaskaskia under the French Regime, Natalie Maree Belting, 
 University of Illinois Press, 1948. 
 
 French History; Leading facts of, D. H. Montgomery, Oinn 
 & Co., 1895. 
 
 Louis XIV and the Court of France, Pardoe, Bently & Co., 
 1849. 
 
 Versailles and the Court of Louis XIV, J. E. Farmer, Century, 
 1905. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 1. The average number of French people in Illinois dur- 
 ing the period of their occupancy was about 2,000, not count- 
 ing the garrison of Fort de Chartres, which varied from 
 time to time. They were here from about 1700 to about 
 1790. Many of them went over to Saint Louis or down to 
 New Orleans when the English took over the Elinois coun- 
 try at the end of the French and Indian War in 1763, and 
 almost all the remainder followed when the Americans took 
 over the country from the English after our Revolutionary 
 War, viz, during the period 1783 to 1790. They found it 
 very difficult to adjust their way of life to the rough and 
 ready methods of the English and the Americans. So they 
 left the valley, never to return. 
 
 2. The Illinois colony was the dream of La Salle whose 
 vision as to the welfare of France in America was correct, 
 but whose project was not adequately supported by the 
 French Government. 
 
 3. The French failure resulted, to a great extent, from 
 their faulty political and economic system, as compared with 
 that of the English colonists along the Atlantic Coast. The 
 French colonists were hampered by a patriarchal govern- 
 ment in France, which supervised too closely the local af- 
 fairs of the colonists, intruding even into the affairs of their 
 family lives, while the English colonists had individual free- 
 dom and private enterprise. The clash of the two systems 
 led to the downfall of the French in America. 
 
 4. Antoinette personified the attitude of that type of 
 French person who has always resented the intrusion of the 
 English — as they are called historically— in the affairs of 
 France; who were, and still are, quite inconsolable over 
 English successes at the expense of France, and who have 
 always longed for revenge. 
 
 91 
 
5. The French in Illinois were essentially farmers who, 
 however, liked to do a certain amount of trading in furs, 
 on the side. Despite their poor implements, their farming 
 was on such a scale that, on the average, they sold 100,000 
 pounds of flour annually to New Orleans. One year, 1748, 
 they sent 800,000 pounds to New Orleans. Their valley was 
 looked upon as the granary of the French in Louisiana, and 
 it also supplied the various military expeditions that the 
 French sent up the Ohio River in their effort to halt the 
 English advance. For plowing, they used a very primi- 
 tive wooden plow which was drawn, in tandem, by two 
 oxen, an ox and a horse, or two horses. 
 
 6. In 1753, a census for the entire valley showed 519 
 horses, 757 oxen, 714 cows, 757 calves, and 1582 pigs. 
 
 7. The region where the French lived and where Antoi- 
 nette spent the short years of her hectic, anxious and pa- 
 triotic youth, corresponded, in general, to the area now 
 called the Great American Bottom, that region now en- 
 compassed by Randolph, Monroe and Saint Clair Counties, 
 in the great bend of the Mississippi River, below Saint 
 Louis. The deterioration that goes with the lapse of time, 
 and the destruction wrought by the floods of the Mississippi, 
 have so largely eliminated the frail wooden structures of the 
 French that it is not easy, today, for the mind's eye to 
 visualize this valley as it was, with villages filled with 
 French men, women and children, whose labor, gaiety and 
 tears were once the life of what they called Illinois. 
 
 8. Why " Rocky Prairie"? A few years ago, the author 
 walked across the plowed fields around Prairie du Rocher 
 and, in his opinion, the soil was not what we would call 
 "rocky." But these French people were accustomed to 
 the soil of Normandy which, like most European agricul- 
 tural land, had been carefully worked, cultivated, fertilized 
 and cared for, down to the last clod, over hundreds of 
 years. European farmers are small farmers, and look upon 
 the soil as something precious. So, to the French who came 
 to Illinois, this raw, unworked soil that had never before 
 felt the plow, may very well have seemed rocky. 
 
 92 
 
SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR 
 
 (From Who's Who in the Midwest, A. N. Marquis Company, Publishers.) 
 
 Colonel Edward Davis, retired army officer, was born in 
 Litchfield, Illinois, September 7, 1874. Holds LL.B. degree 
 from Cornell University. 
 
 Began army career in 1896 as 2nd Lieutenant. Served 
 with 1st Illinois Infantry in Santiago, Cuba, in 1898. Ap- 
 pointed Captain in 33rd U. S. Volunteers Infantry, partici- 
 pating in suppression of Philippine insurrection. Appointed 
 1st Lieutenant U. S. Cavalry, and served with the army in 
 the Philippines 1902 to 1906. Aide-de-camp to commanding 
 general in Cuba 1906 to 1909, and Captain of Cavalry 1909 
 to 1915. 
 
 Appointed military attache to Greece, and military ob- 
 server with the British, French, Russian, Serbian, Italian, 
 and Greek armies in the Saloniki front, and with the British 
 army on the Suez Canal defense front. Served with Gen. 
 Allenby's army in the Palestine campaign, and with the 
 British and Indian armies in the Bagdad campaign. 
 
 Appointed military attache to Holland, directing U. S. 
 military intelligence penetration of Germany. (Reported 
 plan of German Kaiser to abdicate and flee to Holland two 
 weeks before the event.) Appointed military attache to 
 Berlin in 1919, and to the same office to Mexico in 1926, and 
 to Yugoslavia in 1928. He commanded Fort Sheridan in 
 1931, and was placed on the eligible list for promotion to 
 brigadier general. 
 
 Retired at own request in 1936. Was awarded Distin- 
 guished Service medal, seven campaign medals, and Dis- 
 tinguished Service Order of Great Britain, Legion of Honor 
 of France, Order of White Eagle of Yugoslavia, and Order 
 of George the First and Order of the Redeemer of Greece. 
 
 Holds membership in American Legion, Society Army of 
 
 93 
 
Santiago de Cuba (past president), Beta Theta Pi, and a 
 number of local clubs. Was honorary consul of Honduras at 
 Chicago in 1938. Author: "Peter Strutt" published in 1949. 
 
 The author is a member of the Illinois Historical Society, 
 and has long been a student of the early settlements by the 
 French. Hence : ' ' Antoinette of Illinois. ' ' 
 
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