France and England in North America, Part III: The Discovery of the Great West (1870)

In Short

This historical account chronicles the arduous exploration of the American interior during the seventeenth century, focusing primarily on the French presence in the Great Lakes and Mississippi River regions. It details the daring, often disastrous, expeditions of the explorer La Salle and his contemporaries as they navigate hostile wilderness, complex indigenous politics, and the shifting rivalries between Jesuits and colonial administrators. By drawing on previously unused archival documents and personal journals, the book provides a precise, vivid examination of how a vast, unknown frontier was claimed, settled, and ultimately lost to the ambitions of men.

The Story

The narrative begins with the obscurity of the "Great West," a region known only through rumor and the sporadic efforts of early French agents. The central arc tracks the rise and fall of Robert Cavelier de La Salle, a man driven by a singular, obsessive vision to discover a westward passage and establish a dominant French presence in the Mississippi Valley. His journey is not a straight line of triumph but a series of grueling cycles: he initiates bold expeditions, encounters catastrophic setbacks—such as the loss of his ships, the desertion of his men, and the persistent interference of Jesuit rivals—and inevitably finds himself forced to return to the drawing board.

As the story unfolds, the focus shifts from the initial efforts of French officials like Talon to the more singular, driven career of La Salle. He navigates the treacherous politics of the Canadian frontier, where the civil authorities and the Jesuit missions frequently clash over whether Canada should remain a purely religious outpost or evolve into a commercial colony. La Salle’s ambition to fortify and settle the interior puts him directly in the path of the Jesuits, who view his presence as a threat to their spiritual and temporal influence.

Through the eyes of men like Tonty, the loyal lieutenant, and the mendacious Father Hennepin, the narrative captures the visceral reality of exploration: the biting cold, the starvation, the navigation of unknown rivers, and the unpredictable encounters with various indigenous nations. The reader follows La Salle through the vast, empty prairies and dense forests as he desperately seeks the mouth of the Mississippi.

The ending of the journey is marked by tragedy. Despite his immense fortitude, La Salle’s final attempt to colonize the Gulf of Mexico collapses under the weight of his own rigid temperament, his inability to maintain a unified command, and the hostility of his subordinates. The culmination of his life’s work is not a stable empire, but his own assassination in the wilderness. The narrative concludes with the remnants of his party—his brother Cavelier and the priest Joutel—secretly returning to France, concealing the news of his death to protect their own interests, while the myth of the "Great West" persists in the form of tall tales and gold-laden fables like that of Sâgean. The book paints the history of this region as a testament to the iron will of the pioneer and the indifferent, brutal reality of the frontier.

How It Unfolds

The quest begins The narrative establishes the immense gaps in the historical record and introduces the primary researchers whose archival work makes the reconstruction of these events possible. It sets the scene in an era where the interior of the continent was a "vague domain" known only through the accounts of Jesuit missionaries and the frustrated reports of early governors.

The struggle for control The tension between the French colonial government and the Jesuits drives the early exploration, as both parties compete for influence over the western missions. La Salle emerges as a controversial, powerful figure who defies the status quo, aiming for trade and permanent settlement rather than mere conversion.

The discovery of the Mississippi The narrative follows the physical movement of the explorers, from the freezing reality of Niagara and the Great Lakes to the "voiceless, lifeless solitude" of the Mississippi basin. It details the mechanical and survival challenges, such as building canoes from elm bark and tracking buffalo across the plains.

Betrayals and illusions The account examines the internal collapse of La Salle’s missions, highlighting how individuals like Father Hennepin used their travels to craft self-serving, often false, narratives for European audiences. The tension culminates in the desperate survival of Tonty among the Illinois and the eventual betrayal of La Salle by his own men.

The final failure The book closes with the final, doomed expedition to the Gulf, characterizing La Salle’s end as a collision between his indomitable spirit and his fatal inability to compromise. It juxtaposes this historical reality with the bizarre, late-century myths of golden kingdoms that sprang up in the wake of the failed colony.

The People

Robert Cavelier de La Salle stands at the center of the narrative as a figure of "Roman virtues" and intractable pride. He is a man of immense vision who views the continent as a prize to be won, yet his inability to inspire loyalty or soften his reserved, authoritative nature leads to his undoing.

Henry de Tonty, his lieutenant, serves as the counterpoint to La Salle’s icy isolation. He possesses the intelligence, courage, and human connection that La Salle lacks, remaining a steadfast, if often exploited, ally throughout the most harrowing episodes of the journey.

Father Hennepin is the book’s most unreliable figure. A priest who claims to be driven by a desire for discovery, he is portrayed as a braggart who exaggerates his own importance and seeks to defame La Salle for personal gain. His eventual descent into obscurity serves as a sharp critique of those who sought to profit from the myths of the American frontier.

The Jesuit missionaries represent the collective resistance to La Salle’s secular ambitions. Driven by a desire to keep the western missions free from the influence of traders and settlers, they act as both the pioneers of the geography and the primary antagonists to its political development.

Finally, the colonial officials like Talon and Frontenac represent the institutional forces at play, whose shifting support and internal rivalries create the chaotic environment in which these explorers operate.

In Its Own Voice

"The chief actor in them wrote much, but printed nothing; and the published writings of his associates stand wofully in need of interpretation from the unpublished documents which exist, but which have not heretofore been used as material for history."

The author explains the primary difficulty in reconstructing the life of La Salle: the lack of reliable, first-hand accounts.

"Never, under the impenetrable mail of paladin or crusader, beat a heart of more intrepid mettle than within the stoic panoply that armed the breast of La Salle."

The author reflects on the paradoxical character of the explorer, whose cold exterior masked an extraordinary capacity for endurance.

"He is known to have kept journals and made maps; and these were in existence, and in possession of his niece, Madeleine Cavelier, then in advanced age, as late as the year 1756; beyond which time the most diligent inquiry has failed to trace them."

This note illustrates the frustrating, detective-like nature of the author's historical research into missing primary sources.

What It's Really About

The central theme is the conflict between the "spirit of religion" and the "spirit of this world." The book argues that the colonization of North America was not merely a territorial expansion but a clash of ideologies: the Jesuits' desire for an isolated, missionary-led society versus the French state’s desire for a commercial, fortified empire. Beneath the plot lies the question of what constitutes a "hero." The author is preoccupied with the nature of greatness in the face of inevitable failure, questioning how much of La Salle’s disaster was due to the external environment and how much was the self-inflicted result of his own rigid character. It is a meditation on how history is written, shaped by the tension between fact, myth, and archival silence.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy meticulously researched history that does not shy away from the moral complexity of its subjects will find this work rewarding. It reads like an adventure story, yet it maintains the rigor of a scholarly investigation, inviting the reader to sift through evidence alongside the author. You will feel the physical weight of the journey—the hunger, the cold, and the isolation of the frontier—presented with a prose style that is both Victorian in its elegance and remarkably sharp in its character assessments.

It is, however, a product of its time. The writing is dense, often pausing to address specific scholarly disputes in the footnotes, which can be an obstacle for those seeking a light narrative. Furthermore, the period attitudes toward indigenous peoples and the "civilizing" mission of European powers are starkly present. The reader must be prepared for the author’s tendency to view these events through the lens of nineteenth-century European exceptionalism. Nonetheless, for anyone interested in how the map of North America was actually drawn—not by legends, but by flawed, desperate, and remarkably stubborn men—the book remains an essential, haunting piece of literature that refuses to let the ghosts of the Great West fade into total silence.