Tuesday, November 20, 2018

Fort Miami (Le Fort des Miamis) on the Illinois River, near Starved Rock.

On the northside of Illinois River bank, near the center of the Village of La Vantum ("the washed"), was the Illinois tribe village on what was called Buffalo Rock. About a mile west of Buffalo Rock, on the south side of the Illinois River, was Fort St. Louis du Rocher, rising from the water's edge like a castle wall to the height of one hundred and fifty feet, that could be ascended at only one point.
In the year 1686, La Barre, Governor of Canada, being jealous of René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle (Sieur de La Salle is a title only: translating to "Lord of the manor") power and influence, concocted a plan to defeat his enterprise, and thereby appropriate to himself and friends the great wealth to be derived from the fur trade. Under a plea that La Salle had forfeited his charter by granting other parties permits to trade with the Indians, sent an army officer, Captain De Bougis, to Illinois with authority to take command of Fort St. Louis du Rocher. Henri de Tonti being in command of the fort surrendered it to the usurper, who also took possession of all the goods and furs at the trading post. A few months after Captain De Bougis assumed command, he became convinced that he was holding the fort without authority, consequently, he gave it up to Tonti and returned to Canada.

On the following year after De Bougis had relinquished his command of Fort St. Louis du Rocher, a tall, spare man, calling himself Captain Richard Pilette, made his appearance at the garrison service, and in order to retrieve his fortune came west. Pilette remained at the fort a number of days without letting his business be known, but when the proper time came he drew from his pocket a commission, under the governor's seal, authorizing him to take command. Tonti denied the power of the governor to appoint a commander, as the fort was private property-having been built and maintained by La Salle at his own expense, in accordance with a charter from the King of France. In a pompous manner, Pilette proclaimed himself commander of Fort St. Louis du Rocher by virtue of his commission, and addressing the soldiers in a tone of authority, ordered them to take hold of Tonti and place him under guard.

Without making any reply Tonti, with his iron hand, knocked down the would-be commander, and at the same time relieving him of three of his front teeth. Before the usurper could regain his feet, the soldiers carried him outside of the gateway, setting him on the rock, and gave him a start downwards. The rock is covered with sleet, Pilette could not recover his footing or stop his descent, but in that position slid to the bottom, tearing his pantaloons into fragments, and bruising himself on the sharp crags of rocks.

Captain Pilette, bruised and bleeding, his clothing torn almost off him while sliding down the rock, made his way to La Vantum, where he found sympathy among his countrymen and their Indian friends. While here he concocted a plan to gain power over the Indians, and secure their trade, in defiance of La Salle's charter and Fort St. Louis. With eighteen Frenchmen and about fifty warriors he went to Buffalo Rock, and on its summit commenced building a fort. Here they built a block-house, a store-house, and surrounded them with earthworks and palisades. Pilette promised the Indians to supply them with goods, war implements, etc., in exchange for furs, and protect them from the Iroquois. Acting upon this promise, a large number of Indians came here and built lodges within the stockades, as well as around it, and in a short time, it became a large town. The place took the name of Le Fort des Miamis and was occupied by the Indians long after the French left the country. The remains of this fort were plain to be seen in the early settlement of the country and were mistaken for the relics of Fort St. Louis.

Next year after the fort was built, Captain Pilette collected from the Indians two canoes loads of pelts and furs, which he contemplated shipping to Canada and paying for them in goods on his return. The captain, with three companions, was about to start on this journey when both French and Indians were collected on the river bank to bid them adieu. But as their canoes were about to leave the shore, Tonti, with a file of armed soldiers, made his appearance and forbid them going until the duty authorized by La Salle's charter was paid. Pilette protested against being robbed in this way, as he termed it, but knowing that Tonti with his armed soldiers would enforce his demand, consented to pay the tribute. Accordingly, the required number of buffalo, beaver and otter skins was counted out, after which the canoes departed on their way.

Pilette married a squaw, raised a large family of half-breed children, to whom he left a large fortune, which he had made in the fur trade. When he died they buried him on Buffalo Rock and raised a mound over his remains.

In August of 1689, the peaceful Illinois tribe was massacred by the Iroquois at the Village of La Vantum. {read more at The 1689 La Vantum Village Massacre of the Illinois Indians by the Iroquois.}

A short distance from the site of the old fort and town, are a number of small artificial mounds, raised over the remains of distinguished persons. For years these mounds have been plowed over by A. Betger, the owner of the land, but still, their outlines are plain to be seen. The largest one of the group, and standing some distance from the others, is, in all probability, the one raised over the tomb of Captain Pilette.

After Pilette's death, his family moved to Peoria Lake, and one of his grandsons, Louis Pilette was a claimant for the land on which Peoria is built. Many of the descendants of this old fur trader are now living on the American Bottom, all of whom show strong marks of Indian origin. One of these descendants, Hypolite Pilette, a great-grandson of the Captain, has in his possession a number of articles that once belonged to his distinguished grandson. 

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D. 

The Night Hanukkah Harry Saved Christmas.

Hanukkah Harry's first appearance on SNL was on Season 15: Episode 9, a show first broadcast on December 16, 1989, with guest host Andie MacDowell, in a sketch titled "The Night Hanukkah Harry Saved Christmas," viewers are told is sponsored by Hallmark Cards in association with the Jewish Anti-Defamation League. 

Unable to deliver toys to children due to a stomach virus, Santa calls Hanukkah Harry (Jon Lovitz) at his workshop on Mount Sinai, asking if he could fill in. Hanukkah Harry agrees and flies in a cart pulled by three donkeys, Moische, Herschel, and Schlomo.

Hanukkah Harry lands on a roof and climbs down the chimney of the home of Scott (Mike Myers) and Christine (Victoria Jackson), offering gifts of slacks and socks, respectively, as well as chocolate coins and a dreidel. While the children are initially disappointed with their gifts, their realization that Hanukkah Harry had helped Santa makes them recognize that "Christians and Jews, deep down, are pretty much the same. Maybe that's the true meaning of Christmas!" With that statement, Santa's flu is cured, and Santa comes down the chimney bearing gifts of Barbie make-me-pretty for Christine and a pellet gun for Scott.
The Night Hanukkah Harry Saved Christmas, Season 15 of SNL - Dec. 16, 1989. [Runtime: 8:33]
Many times, Jon Lovitz performed stand-up comedy at the Improv in Woodfield Mall, Schaumburg, Illinois. One of his favorite venues in 2009 and 2010. 
Lovitz, throughout the first pitch for the
Cubs at Wrigley Field on September 6, 2016.

Monday, November 19, 2018

The National Road, including the Illinois portion.

The National Road (aka The Cumberland Road) was the first major improved highway in the United States to be built by the federal government. The approximately 620-mile long the National Road provided a connection between the Potomac and Ohio Rivers and was the gateway to the West for thousands of settlers.

Construction began heading west in 1811 at Cumberland, Maryland, on the Potomac River. It crossed the Allegheny Mountains and southwestern Pennsylvania, reaching Wheeling, Virginia (now West Virginia), on the Ohio River in 1818. Plans were made to continue through St. Louis, at the confluence of the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers, and then to Jefferson City upstream on the Missouri River.

The original route of the National Road would have taken it near Columbus, Indiana, however, Indiana Congressman Oliver H. Smith successfully lobbied to change its path through Indianapolis. The road first moved into Indiana through Wayne County in 1827 and in 1831 there was an appropriation of $75,000 for work that included the bridge over the White River in Indianapolis making this quite possibly the location for the first ancestor of Indiana's beloved covered bridges. In early Indiana history, while the road was winding its way across the state and country, much of Indiana had not been divided into counties.
Beyond the National Road's eastern terminus at Cumberland and toward the Atlantic coast, a series of private turnpikes (toll roads) was completed in 1824, connecting the National Road (Pike) with Baltimore, Maryland and its port on the Chesapeake Bay; these feeder routes formed what is referred to as an eastern extension of the National Road.

The National Road became "Main Street" for many small Illinois towns built along its unpaved path during the early 1800s. The route from the Indiana line to Vandalia, approximately 89 miles long was surveyed in 1827. In 1830 Congress appropriated $40,000 for opening and grading the Illinois section. Additional money was granted each year thereafter but was limited to clearing, grading, and bridging. Construction problems and corrupt practices resulted in the project's being placed under the Army Corps of Engineers in 1834.
Following the panic of 1837[1], however, funding ran dry and construction was stopped at Vandalia, Illinois, after crossing the states of Ohio and Indiana. The road was opened to Vandalia in 1839; however, the Illinois section remained an unfinished dirt surface with only 31 miles of grading and macadam[2] paving was completed. The road had been surveyed to Jefferson City, Missouri but in 1840 Congress terminated construction at Vandalia. On May 9, 1856, Congress transferred the 'Rights and Privileges’' connected with the road in Illinois to the state.
National Road construction through Marshall Illinois.
The older, unpaved, wagon road stops at Vandalia. Located along that segment, Marshall, Casey, Greenup, Teutopolis, Effingham, Vandalia, and Livingston are just a few examples of towns that were built on the National Road. The oldest settlement along this stretch of the National Road was the town of Vandalia, which was platted in 1819. The newest settlement was Casey which was founded in 1854.
While the National Road was popular, these cities flourished. Small-town shops thrived because of travelers and business people on the National Road. They stopped, stayed the night, and went on the road again. A new surge of people arrived each day, and this was the cycle that followed for some time. Plans to turn them into great business towns and economically sound communities were created. These plans, however, never came to fruition.
For a number of obvious reasons, the unpaved National Road in Illinois was only traveled during the summer and did not bring the predicted prosperity to many of the towns and communities. Once the National Road was paved, which made the road a lot smoother and faster, carriages and stagecoaches were able to travel on it even in the winter, which would take 5 to 7 hours to cover 10-miles.
History Museum in Vandalia, Illinois.
By the 1840s and 1850s, the railroads were the National Road's main competitors. This competition eventually took its toll on the bustling National Road and many business travelers stopped using it because of the road's high cost of shipping goods and long travel times. Instead of using the road, farmers and businessmen used railroads and water passageways for transportation and shipping. In the early twentieth century, the National Road made a comeback because of the growing popularity and affordability of the automobile. The use of the National Road brought business back again to small towns, but this did not last, and the use of the National Road declined once again.

People often used the National Road for vacations and for a brief time families would camp alongside the road just for fun or if they could not afford to lodge. The new road did benefit St. Louis, Missouri, which became known as the Gateway to the West.

Although it was still being used, the National Road was not as prominent as it might have been because around 1960 a wider interstate highway system was being built to provide a more direct route. Activity began to slow down and the individual cities dropped into a small-town lifestyle.

The National Road influenced the culture of many small towns and encouraged the building of towns along with it. It helped revolutionize the interstate highway system and established a more sophisticated way of constructing major roads and highways. Even though small towns along the National Road were not transformed into bustling urban cities, they are home to many people. The National Road will always have an important place and a significant role in the history of Illinois transportation.

The National Road was also known the National Old Trails Road. Today, much of the alignment is followed by U.S. 40 (I-64). The full road, including extensions east to Baltimore and west to St. Louis, was designated "The Historic National Road, an All-American Road" in 2002.

Compiled by Neil Gale, Ph.D.


[1] The Panic of 1837 was a financial crisis or market correction in the United States built on a speculative fever. The end of the Second Bank of the United States had produced a period of runaway inflation, but on May 10, 1837, in New York City, every bank began to accept payment only in specie (gold and silver coinage), forcing a dramatic, deflationary backlash. This was based on the assumption by the former president, Andrew Jackson, that the government was selling land for state banknotes of questionable value. The Panic was followed by a seven-year depression, with the failure of banks and then-record-high unemployment levels.

[2] Macadam (John Loudon McAdam) is a type of road construction pioneered by Scottish engineer John Loudon McAdam in around 1820. The method simplified what had been considered state of the art at that point. Single-sized aggregate layers of small stones, with a coating of the binder as a cementing agent, are mixed in an open-structured roadway. With the advent of motor vehicles, dust became a serious problem on macadam roads. The area of low air pressure created under fast-moving vehicles sucks dust from the road surface, creating dust clouds and a gradual unraveling of the road material. This problem was approached by spraying tar on the surface to create tar-bound macadam. A more durable road surface, modern mixed asphalt pavement, sometimes referred to in the US as blacktop, was introduced in the 1920s.

Two Million Readers in the First Two Years.

TODAY WE TOOT OUR OWN HORN!

Sunday, November 18, 2018

The La Vantum Village Massacre of The Illinois (Illiniwek) by the Iroquois Indians and its aftermath in 1691.


In historical writing and analysis, PRESENTISM introduces present-day ideas and perspectives into depictions or interpretations of the past. Presentism is a form of cultural bias that creates a distorted understanding of the subject matter. Reading modern notions of morality into the past is committing the error of presentism. Historical accounts are written by people and can be slanted, so I try my hardest to present fact-based and well-researched articles.

Facts don't require one's approval or acceptance.

I present [PG-13] articles without regard to race, color, political party, or religious beliefs, including Atheism, national origin, citizenship status, gender, LGBTQ+ status, disability, military status, or educational level. What I present are facts — NOT Alternative Facts — about the subject. You won't find articles or readers' comments that spread rumors, lies, hateful statements, and people instigating arguments or fights.

FOR HISTORICAL CLARITY
When I write about the INDIGENOUS PEOPLE, I follow this historical terminology:
  • The use of old commonly used terms, disrespectful today, i.e., REDMAN or REDMEN, SAVAGES, and HALF-BREED are explained in this article.
Writing about AFRICAN-AMERICAN history, I follow these race terms:
  • "NEGRO" was the term used until the mid-1960s.
  • "BLACK" started being used in the mid-1960s.
  • "AFRICAN-AMERICAN" [Afro-American] began usage in the late 1980s.

— PLEASE PRACTICE HISTORICISM 
THE INTERPRETATION OF THE PAST IN ITS OWN CONTEXT.
 


After most of the soldiers had deserted from Fort de CrévecoeurHenri de Tonti, with those remaining, consisting of Father Gabriel, Father Zenobe, and three soldiers, abandoned the place. All the valuables in the fort were put into two canoes, and the party ascended the Illinois River as far as the Village of La Vantum
The Village of La Vantum was located on the north bank of the Illinois River east of today's North Utica, Illinois.
Here they found quarters among the Indians while waiting for René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle's return from Canada. Tonti applied himself to learning the Indian language. The two priests were engaged in preaching to the natives—while the soldiers were spending the honeymoon with their squaws, whom they had recently married.

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René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle: "Sieur de La Salle" is a title translating to "Lord of the Manor."

About three miles from the town, Father Gabriel and Zenobe erected a temporary altar amid a thick grove of timber. Every third day they repaired thither for prayer and meditation. Here in this lonely spot, far away from the noise and bustle of the Village, the two holy Friars would spend long summer days, from early morning until late at night, communing with Virgin Mary, saints, and angels.

Notwithstanding, these priests preached and prayed with these Indians almost daily, promising them success in war, hunting, etc., if they would embrace Christianity, but few converts were made. Chassagoac, the chief, having embraced the Christian religion seven years before under the preaching of Father Pére Jacques Marquette, still continued in the faith. The chief, his household, and a few of his friends had taken the sacrament from the bands of the priests. Still, all the other chiefs and principal warriors denounced Christianity, adhering to the religion of their fathers.

The wine brought from Canada for sacramental purposes having been drunk by La Forge, as previously stated, it became necessary to procure a substitute, as the administration of the sacred rights could not be dispensed with. During the winter, the priests gathered wild grapes, pressed out the juice, and put it away in the sacramental cask for future use. This wine answered the purpose very well so long as the weather remained cool, but it soured and became unfit for use during the summer.

The time came to administer the sacrament. Tonti, the three soldiers with their wives, Chassagoac, and family, with a few friends, were assembled in the council-house on the Sabbath day to receive the sacred emblems. Father Gabriel, wrapped in his long black robe with a gold cross suspended from his neck, preached to them, speaking of Christ, of the apostles, of saints, and of the kingdom to come after preaching, all knelt around the altar engaged in prayer, while Father Gabriel made preparations to administer the sacrament. He was horrified to find the wine sour, and the transubstantiation miracle (converting it into the blood of Christ) could not be performed. Consequently, the sacramental service was postponed until another day.

Time hung heavy with the French; days and weeks passed away. Spring was gone, the summer had almost ended, and no news from La Salle. It has a dull, monotonous appearance in an Indian village, where there are neither hunting war parties nor national dances to keep up the excitement. Warriors lay under the shade of trees, sleeping or amusing themselves in games of chance, while squaws were working in cornfields or preparing food for their families. Naked children were playing on the green or rolling in the dirt, while young maidens, with their lovers, were gathering flowers in the grove, fishing on the banks of the Illinois River, or rowing their canoes across its waters, unconscious of the great calamity that was about to befall them.

It was near the close of a warm day in the latter part of August of 1680; when a scout arrived with his horse in a foam of sweat and shouting at the top of his voice that the Iroquois were marching against the Village. All was now excitement and confusion; squaws screamed, children quit their plays on the green and ran away to their homes; warriors caught their weapons and made preparations to defend their Village and protect their squaws and little ones. During the night, fires were kept burning along the Illinois Riverbank, and every preparation was made to defend the Village in case it should be attacked. The warriors greased their bodies, painted their faces red, and ornamented their beads with turkey feathers; war songs were sung, drums beat; warriors danced, yelled, and brandished their war clubs to keep up their courage. At last, morning came, and with it, the savage Iroquois.
Iroquois Indians
When news came of the approaching Iroquois, a crowd of excited savages collected around Tonti and his companions, whom they had previously suspected of treachery, and charged them with being in league with their enemies. A report had reached them that many Jesuit priests and La Salle himself were with the Iroquois, leading them to the Village. The enraged warriors seized the blacksmith forge, tools, and all the goods that belonged to the French and threw them into the Illinois River. One of the warriors caught Tonti by the hair of his head and raised his tomahawk to split his skull, but a friendly chief grabbed the savage by the arm, and his life was spared. With that boldness and self-possession which was characteristic of him, Tonti defended himself against these charges and, to convince them of his good faith, offered to accompany them to battle.

Father Gabriel and Zenobe were away at their altar, spending the day praying and meditating and had no warning of the danger that awaited them. On their return home late at night, they were surprised to find the Village in a whirlpool of excitement; squaws were crying and bewailing their fate while the warriors were dancing, yelling, and offering up sacrifices to the Manito of battle.

On the arrival of the two priests, the savages collected around them, charging them with treachery and being the cause of the Iroquois invading their country. The priests, with uplifted hands, called God to witness their innocence of the charge, but their statement did not change the minds of the excited Indians. A loud clamor was raised for their blood, and several warriors sprang forward with uplifted tomahawks to put an end to their existence. Still, as they drew near and were about to tomahawk them, Father Gabriel drew a small gold image of the Holy Virgin from his bosom and held it up before their would-be executioners. On seeing this sacred talisman, the Indians paused a moment and returned their tomahawks to their belts. Father Zenobe afterward said this was another proof of the Virgin Mary protecting the Jesuits in North America.

All the squaws and children, with the old Indians unable to bear arms, were placed in canoes and taken on the Illinois River to a large marshy island during the night.

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Thls island ls situated between the Illinois River and Depue Lake which is 19 miles due west, of several hundred acres of marshland, a part of which is covered during the summer with reeds and bulrushes. Formerly it was surrounded by water, but from the washings of the Illinois River the upper end is filled up so that in an ordinary stage of water It connects with the mainland.

About sixty warriors were left for their protection, and they all secreted themselves in the reeds and high grass, so they could not be seen by the Iroquois. But the sequel shows that they did not escape the enemy's vigilance, and this island of supposed safety became their tomb.

At the time of the Iroquois invasion, there were only about five hundred warriors at La Vantum, Chief Chassagoac, and a large portion of his braves had gone to Cahokia to attend a religious feast. But this band, small as it was, boldly crossed the Illinois River at daylight and met the enemy, whose number was five times as large as their own. While they were ascending the bluff, a scout met them, saying that the enemy was crossing the prairie between the Vermillion River and Illinois timber. As the invaders approached the Illinois River timber, they were surprised to meet The Illinois, lying in ambush, and received them with a deadly fire. At this unexpected attack, the Iroquois were stricken with panic and fled from the field, leaving the ground covered with the dead and wounded. But they soon rallied, and the fight became bloody, arrows and rifle balls flying thick and fast, while the woods far and near resounded with the wild whoops of contending savages.

Tonti undertook the perilous task of mediating between the contending parties during the fight. Laying aside his gun and taking a wampum belt in his hand, he held it over his head like a flag of truce amid showers of arrows and bullets. He walked boldly forward to meet the enemy. As he approached, the Iroquois warriors collected around him threateningly, one of whom attempted to stab him in the heart, but the knife striking a rib inflicted only a long, shallow gash. As the savage was about to repeat the blow, a chief came up and, seeing he was a white man, protected him from further assault and applied a bandage to the wound to stop its bleeding. The fighting has ceased. A warrior took Tonti's hat and, placing it on the muzzle of his gun, started toward The Illinois, who, on seeing it, supposed he was killed and again renewed the fight. While the battle was in progress, a warrior reported that three armed Frenchmen were with The Illinois forces and firing on them. When this announcement was made, the Iroquois became enraged at Tonti and again gathered around him, some for killing and others for his protection. One of the warriors caught him by the hair of his head, raising it up, and with his long knife was about to take off his scalp when Tonti, with his iron baud, knocked down his assailant others attacked Tonti with knives and tomahawks, but he was again rescued from death by the head-chief.
For a long time, the battle raged. Many of the combatants on both sides were slain, and the yells of the warriors could be heard far away. But at last, The Illinois, whose force was inferior to their adversary, were overpowered and driven from the field. The vanquished fled to their Village to defend it or perish in the attempt.

Near the center of the Village, on the Illinois River's bank, was their great council-house, surrounded by stockades, forming a kind of fortification called Le Fort des Miamis by the French (Fort Miami). To this, the remnant of the warriors fled and hastily tore down the lodges and used the material to strengthen their works.

The Illinois had crossed the Illinois River in canoes, but their pursuers having no means of crossing at this point, were obliged to go up to the rapids where they forded it. In a short time, the Iroquois attacked the Village, setting fire to the lodges and Fort Miami, which was soon a mass of flames. Many of the besieged were burned in their strongholds. Others were slain or taken prisoners as they escaped from the flames; a few only succeeded in preserving their lives by fleeing down the Illinois River. The Village, with Fort Miami and the great council-house and fortifications, was destroyed by fire, and nothing was left of them except the blackened poles of which the lodges were constructed.

When the victory was completed, they bound the prisoner's hands and feet and commenced torturing them to make them reveal the hiding place of their squaws and children.

On obtaining the necessary information, a large war party took the canoes left by vanquished Illinois and descended the Illinois River searching for the squaws and children. While these defenseless beings were secreted among the reeds and high grass of the island, they were discovered by the savage Iroquois, and all of them slain. The sixty warriors left to guard them fled on the enemy's approach, crossing the lake and secreting themselves in the thick Illinois River timber.

On the following day after the battle, the victors made preparations to torture the prisoners; their barbaric acts probably never have been equaled by any of the savages of the West. The warriors were formed into a large circle, and the prisoners, bound hand and foot, were conveyed thither when the work of torture commenced.
Jesuit Missionaries Tortured by the Iroquois.
The doomed prisoners were seated on the ground awaiting their fate, some weeping or praying while others were singing their death song. A warrior with a long knife cut off the nose and ears of the prisoners and threw them to their hungry dogs. Pieces of flesh were cut out of their arms and breasts while the prisoners sat writhing with agony, and the ground around them was red with human gore. The work of torture went on-the executioners continued to cut off limbs and pieces of flesh-and in some cases, the bowels were taken out and trailed on the ground, while the groans and screams of the victims in their death agonies were terrible to witness.

Tonti and his companions looked at these barbarous acts of the Iroquois with horror and astonishment. Still, they dared not remonstrate as prisoners and did not know that a similar fate awaited them.

While the torture was going on, the two priests were engaged in baptizing the victims to absolve them from past sins. As each one was about to expire, they would hold the crucifix before his eyes, so he might look on it, and through its divine efficacy, his soul would be saved from perdition.

When the prisoners were all dead, the warriors cut out their hearts, roasted them, and ate them to make them brave.

For several days, the Iroquois continued to rejoice over their victory, spending the time singing and dancing around the scalps and causing the timber and Illinois River bluffs to re-echo with their yells and wild whoops.

Two days after the Iroquois victory, the French were set at liberty and departed in an old leaky canoe. After going about six leagues, they stopped at the mouth of a large creek to repair the canoe and dry their clothing. While thus engaged, Father Gabriel, who was always fond of solitude, wandered off into the thick Illinois River timber for the purpose of prayer and meditation. When the canoe was repaired, clothes dried, and the time of departure came, Father Gabriel was missing, and they searched for him among the thick timber, but he could not be found. During the night, fires were burning along the Illinois Riverbank, and guns were discharged to direct him to camp, but all in vain. During the following day, they searched the woods far and near for the missing priest, and Father Zenobe prayed to the Holy Virgin for his safe return, but all to no purpose, so they gave him up for lost and continued their journey. For many days they mourned the loss of the Holy Father, as he was an old man of nearly three score years and devoted to the church's work.

Afterward, it was ascertained that Father Gabriel was taken prisoner by the Indians and carried to their camp some miles off, where he was executed. While his friends searched for him, those savages danced around his scalp.

While Father Gabriel was at prayer in the thick timber, some distance from his companions, he was approached by two Indians in a threatening manner. With his head uncovered, he arose to meet them, with one hand pointing heavenward and the other to the gold cross on his breast, making them understand that he was a priest. In vain, he told them that he was their friend and had come from afar across the big waters to teach them the ways of truth and happiness. Regardless of his entreaties, they bound his hands behind his back and led him off a prisoner to their camp. A council was held over the captives, and it was decided that he should die. With his hands and feet pinioned, a stake was driven into the ground, and Father Gabriel tied to it. He sat on the ground, bound to the stake, with his long hair and flowing beard white with the snows of seventy winters, waving to and fro in the wind. The Indians formed a circle around their victim, singing and dancing while flourishing their war clubs over his head and occasionally yelling at the top of their voices. This performance continued for some time while the victim sat with his head bowed down, his eyes fixed on the gold cross which hung on his breast, and in silence, awaited his doom.

Under repeated blows from war clubs, Father Gabriel fell to the ground and soon expired. His clothing and scalp were taken off by the savages, and his remains were left to be devoured by wolves.

Thus perished Father Gabriel, the only heir of a wealthy Burgundian house, who had given up a life of ease and comfort, with all the enjoyment of riches and society in the old world, to preach the gospel to the heathens of the West, whom at last became his murderers.

Four years after this affair, a trader at Fort St. Louis bought from an Indian a small gold image of the Virgin Mary, with Father Gabriel's name and that of the owner engraved thereon. This image was presented to Father Gabriel the day he sailed for America by the cardinal-bishop of Normandy, and he carried it in his bosom near his heart until his death. Some years afterward, this golden image was taken back to France and is now seen in the museum at Rouen.

It was mid-winter, three months after the massacre of The Illinois Indians, when La Salle, with twelve companions, returned from Canada to look after his little colony on the Illinois River. As the travelers urged their canoes down the swollen stream, their eyes were directed to Starved Rock, where they expected to find Tonti within his Fort St. Louis. But no palisades were there-no smoke ascended from its summit, nor could signs of human habitation be seen. Passing down the rapid current for about two miles, they were surprised to find that the great town of the west had disappeared. The large meadow, covered with lodges and swarming with human beings only a few months before, was now a lonely waste, a representative of death and desolation. On the charred poles, which had formed the framework of lodges, were many human heads, partly robbed of flesh by birds of prey. Gangs of wolves fled at their approach, and flocks of buzzards raised from their hideous repast and flew away to distant trees.

Even the burying ground showed marks of the vindictive malice of the conquerors. They have made war on the dead as well as the living. Graves had been opened, bones taken out and piled up in heaps or broken into fragments and scattered over the prairie. The scaffolds which contained dead bodies had been torn down, and their contents were thrown hither and thither on the prairie. The blackened ground was strewn everywhere with mangled bodies and broken bones of unfortunate Illinois. The caches had been broken open, the contents taken out and burned by the victors.

Amid these ruins, the conquerors had erected an altar to the God of war, and the poles surrounding it were capped with heads of victims whose long hair and ghastly features were sickening to look upon. The stench from putrefaction was so offensive, and the scene so horrifying, that La Salle and his party turned away from it and encamped for the night on the opposite side of the Illinois River. During the long winter night, the loneliness was increased by the howling of wolves and buzzards winging their flight back and forth through the dark domain.

On the following morning, La Salle returned to the ruined town and examined the skulls of many of the victims to see if he could find among them the remains of Tonti and his party, but they all proved to have been the heads of Indians.

On the bank of the Illinois River were planted six posts painted red, and on each of these was a figure of a man drawn in white. La Salle believed these figures represented six white men, prisoners in the hands of Indians; it is the number of Tonti's party.

La Salle and his companions again boarded their canoes. They started down the Illinois River, hoping to learn something about the fate of their comrades, but nothing was discovered.

As the travelers passed down the Illinois River, they saw many human figures standing erect but motionless on the island where the squaws and children had taken refuge. They landed from their canoes with great caution to examine these figures and found them to be partly consumed bodies of squaws, who had been bound to stakes and then burned. Fires had been made at their feet, consuming the flesh off their legs and crisping their bodies but leaving the remains bound to the stakes, standing erect as though in life; poles were stuck into the marsh and children placed thereon, while others were hanging by the neck from limbs of trees, with the flesh partly eaten off their bodies by birds of prey. Among these remains, no warriors were found, as they had fled at the enemy's approach, leaving the squaws and children to their fate. The sight of these dead bodies was so revolting to look upon that the French turned away from them, not knowing at what moment they would fall victim to the savage Iroquois.

A few years after this event, according to tradition, Father Zenobe, with others of his countrymen, visited this island and found a large piece of ground strewn with human bones.

In 1829, a black man named Adams built a cabin opposite the island's upper end at the mouth of Negro Creek. The following spring, Mr. Adams discovered many human bones sticking out of the bank on the island, where the floods had washed away the dirt. The same thing was noticed by John Clark, Amos Leonard, and other early settlers. It appears the bones were covered up by the overflowing of the island and afterward brought to light by washing away the bank.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.