CHAPTER V

THE BUILDING OF THE _GRIFFON_

The next noteworthy event in the story of the Great Lakes is the building and the launching of the _Griffon_, and the voyage of La Salle from the Niagara River to the southern end of Lake Michigan. Robert Cavelier, Sieur de la Salle, or La Salle as he is usually called, came to Canada in 1666, when he was three or four and thirty years of age. Outwardly cold and reserved, he was inwardly consumed with a burning desire for adventure. After his arrival, he set to work to study the Indian languages, in which he soon became proficient; and it was his delight to invite Indians to his cabin, and to draw from them tales of the far-off regions in which they dwelt, and especially of those wonderful rivers, the Ohio and the Mississippi, by the exploration of which he hoped to provide a new passage to China and Japan. An exploring trip which he took in 1669 gave him the practical experience which was later to be of value. La Salle was a man of strong prejudices and personal dislikes, who took little pains to overcome the jealousy of those who were envious of him; but he gained one strong friend and patron, Count Frontenac, the governor of New France, who recognized a kindred spirit in this bold, enterprising young man.

To a person of La Salle’s disposition, the lands to the south of the Great Lakes offered alluring prospects of immediate gain. Instead of the barren soil, gloomy forests, and harsh climate of the lower St. Lawrence Valley, this new country was largely open and abundantly supplied with meadows, brooks, and rivers. The soil was so fertile that everything which could be produced in France could be easily raised, and there was an abundance of fish, game, and venison. Colonists would find it easy to supply their own needs, and could engage in profitable cattle raising, for flocks and herds could be left out all winter. La Salle also reported that there was a species of native wild cattle, called the buffalo, whose wool was better than that of any sheep in France. He sought Louis XIV, king of France, and asked permission to found colonies and to conduct the fur trade and explorations on the regions bordering on the Great Lakes. The French king did not wish to found new colonies, for those already in existence had proved very expensive, but he was willing that La Salle should “labor at the discovery of the western parts of New France,” provided that he pay all the expenses of the enterprise himself, and bring the matter to a conclusion within five years. With this permission and such money as he could raise, La Salle returned to New France, and in the autumn of 1678 set out to put his plans into execution. Detailed and interesting reports of his voyage on the waters of the Great Lakes have been preserved in the entertaining account of the journey which was written by Father Louis Hennepin, an adventurous missionary who delighted in telling stories about himself and his doings. He was also something of a prophet in foreseeing the time when there would be an “inconceivable commerce” on the Great Lakes, and their shores would be lined with the shops and dwellings of the whites.

Up to this time the French missionaries and the fur traders had gained the interior by way of the Ottawa River, or the Toronto, and Georgian Bay. La Salle decided to build a sailing-vessel on the shore of Lake Erie, in which he could transport his men to the stations he intended to establish, and also carry his trading goods to the Indians, and bring back the furs which he obtained in exchange for them. He already had a fortified post at Fort Frontenac on the northeastern shore of Lake Ontario; but he could not build his ship at this point, because the natives told him that formidable cataracts interrupted the navigation between Lakes Ontario and Erie. He sent an advance company to establish a station at the head of Lake Ontario, and to seek a convenient site on Lake Erie for the construction of the ship. With this expedition went Father Hennepin, whose graphic account of what he saw and of what he experienced is one of the most interesting in the annals of American exploration. The voyagers reached the mouth of the Niagara River in safety. When the current became too strong for them to go farther in their canoe, they landed and pushed forward through the snow. As they made their way along the edge of the river, they heard more and more clearly the roar of falling waters; and, at length, there burst upon their sight the falls of Niagara, or the “Thunder of Waters,” as the Indians called it,--that “vast and prodigious cadence of water which falls down after a surprising and astonishing manner, insomuch that the universe does not afford its parallel, those of Italy and Switzerland being but sorry patterns.” Hennepin describes this wonderful cataract as made up of two great cross-streams of water and two falls with an island between, and declares that when this “prodigious quantity” of water comes to fall, there is a din and a noise more deafening than the loudest thunder; the rebound of the waters was so great that a cloud arose from the foam and hung over the abyss, even when the sun was at its height. He could not say enough of this “most beautiful, and at the same time most frightful cascade” which he saw for the first time on this December day in 1678.[1]

[1] Lake Ontario is 326 ft. lower than Lake Erie and about 30 miles distant. For 18 miles the Niagara River flows peacefully along, then suddenly the channel narrows and the waters rush down 53 ft. in half a mile, and then drop over a cliff 160 ft. in two separate falls, one 600 and the other 200 ft. wide. Seven thousand tons of water are thus discharged every second into a narrow gorge whose nearly perpendicular walls rise 200 ft. on either side. Down its steep slope the imprisoned waters dash in a succession of boiling rapids, white with foam, forming in one loop of the channel a curious whirlpool. Issuing from this gorge at Lewiston, the river flows tranquilly on to Lake Ontario.

[Illustration: Niagara Falls as sketched by Hennepin. The Falls are seen from the Canadian side of the river, the viewer facing roughly southeast. The American Falls are to the left, the Canadian Falls to the right.]

While Hennepin and his party were exploring the Niagara, La Motte, the leader of the expedition, had selected a site for a fortified house about two leagues above the mouth of the river and not far from the present town of Lewiston. He set his laborers to work, but their task was hard, because the frozen ground had to be thawed with boiling water before it was possible to drive down stakes for a palisade. As the carpenters labored at their tasks, distrustful and jealous Indians from a neighboring Seneca village of the Iroquois loitered about, watching them with sullen looks, and intimated in a way that could not be disregarded their unwillingness to allow the work to go on. And well they might! Niagara was the key to the four upper lakes from which the Iroquois fur trade could be controlled, and this fort was being built expressly to hold in check those vigorous tribes, and put an end to their trade with the English and the Dutch in the furs which they obtained from the Indians of the western territory. La Salle had realized that difficulty would probably arise, and had instructed La Motte to go to the great village of the Senecas and endeavor to gain their consent to the French plans for building the fort and the ship. This La Motte now decided to do. After five days’ journey through the snowy forests, he and his companions reached the town which was beyond the Genesee and southeast of Rochester, not far from the present town of Victor, New York. The weary travellers were conducted to the wigwam of the principal chief, where women and children flocked to gaze upon the whites. An old man, according to custom, went through the village announcing their arrival, and younger savages washed their feet and then rubbed them with bear’s grease.

The next afternoon, La Motte was summoned to confer with forty-two old men who made up the Indian council. These chiefs, clad in robes of beaver, wolf, or black squirrel, squatted upon the ground; but, writes Hennepin, “the senators of Venice do not appear with a graver countenance and perhaps do not speak with more majesty and solidity than these ancient Iroquois.” La Motte’s interpreter harangued the assembly, stating that the French wished to build a great wooden canoe and to erect a fort on the banks of the Niagara River. He endeavored to convince the natives that this enterprise would be for their advantage, as it would enable the French to sell them goods at lower prices than the Dutch and English traders. He enforced every reason with wampum belts, and gifts of axes, knives, coats, and scarlet cloth,--for the best arguments in the world were not listened to by the Indians unless accompanied by presents. The shrewd, savage politicians received the gifts, but were not convinced. Their replies were general and evasive and gave no satisfaction. When the council was over, they proceeded to torture an Indian prisoner, and La Motte with his men left the camp in disgust to go back and await the arrival of La Salle from Fort Frontenac. La Salle and Tonty, his ever faithful friend and follower, with men and supplies for the expedition arrived at the Seneca town not long after the departure of La Motte and his men. La Salle succeeded in “so dexterously gaining their affection” that the Indians consented to permit him to carry arms and ammunition by the Niagara portage, to build a vessel above the cataract, and to establish a fortified warehouse at the mouth of the river. Armed with this permission, he proceeded to the encampment of La Motte. The rejoicing at this success was short lived, for a few days later report came that a vessel which La Salle had left at the mouth of the Genesee River had been ship-wrecked on the southern shore of Lake Ontario. Of all the equipment for his enterprise with which this vessel was laden, only the anchors and cables for the new ship were saved; but La Salle with his unvarying fortitude went on with the work as if nothing had happened.

La Salle selected a spot on the banks of the Niagara River above the falls at the mouth of what is now called Cayuga Creek, where the water was quiet, being sheltered by an island from the current of the river--a little village near that spot still bears his name. Hither the little company of thirty men, heavily laden with tools and provisions, journeyed laboriously through the snow on one of the last days of January, 1679. Two Mohegan hunters, who were with the party, set about making bark wigwams for the men and a chapel for Father Hennepin, who had travelled the twelve miles with his portable altar lashed to his back. The ship carpenters went to work at once, and in four days the keel of the vessel was ready. La Salle invited Father Hennepin to drive the first bolt, “but the modesty of my religious profession,” he says, “compelled me to decline this honor.” So La Salle himself drove the first nail in the ship.

Fortunately the majority of the Iroquois warriors had gone on the war-path beyond Lake Erie; but although those who had remained at home were less insolent because of the absence of the rest, yet they did not fail to visit the shipyard frequently, loitering sullenly about and exhibiting their displeasure. One of them, pretending to be drunk, attacked the blacksmith, and tried to kill him; but the blacksmith vigorously defended himself with a red-hot bar of iron. This, together with the severity of the reprimand administered by Father Hennepin, who always represents himself as indispensable on every occasion, induced the savages to depart for the moment. The work went rapidly on, and as the great “wooden canoe” began to show its proportions the Indians became more and more alarmed. A few days later a squaw told the French that they meant to burn the vessel on the stocks, and had not a very close watch been kept they would undoubtedly have done so.

These frequent alarms, the steady cold, and the shortage of supplies owing to the loss of La Salle’s vessel and the enmity of the Iroquois, who refused to sell them food, discouraged the shipbuilders. They would certainly have deserted had not La Salle and Hennepin taken great pains to reassure and cheer them on. Toward spring La Salle set out on foot for Fort Frontenac to procure food and supplies and to attend to his personal affairs. His presence was needed there because his enemies had persuaded his creditors that the undertaking was a rash one, and had instigated them to seize all his goods, although Fort Frontenac alone was more than sufficient to pay his debts. During La Salle’s absence from Niagara one of the workmen endeavored to stir up the others to desert. “This bad man,” announces Hennepin, “would infallibly have perverted our carpenters, had not I confirmed them in their good resolution by the exhortations I made them after divine service.”

The Mohegan hunters brought in deer and other game, warmer weather arrived, and cheerfulness once more prevailed. The shipbuilders went on with their work more briskly, and in the early spring of 1679, before La Salle returned, the vessel was ready to be launched. Father Hennepin blessed the ship and christened it the _Griffon_, for on the prow La Salle had placed a roughly carved figure of this mythical monster, taken from the coat of arms of Count Frontenac. The assembled company sang a hymn of praise; three cannon were fired; and amid loud acclamations from both French and Indians, the _Griffon_ glided into the Niagara River. All haste had been made to get her afloat, even before she was entirely completed, to save her from the plots of the Indians, who were determined to burn her. But the men did not wait for her to be finished to put her to use. They immediately quitted their bark wigwams, swung their hammocks under her decks, and that very night, rejoicing in their security from the Indians, all slept soundly on board the ship.

The Iroquois warriors, returning from a hunting trip, were mightily surprised to see the vessel afloat, and shouted, “Otkon! Otkon!” which means “most penetrating wits,” to the triumphant Frenchmen. For they could not understand how in so short a time the white men could build so large a canoe,--although the craft was of only about forty-five tons. With her five cannon she was to the savages a wonderful moving fortress, and inspired in them a wholesome fear and admiration for the French.