pg 15

The destiny of nations is often affected by incidents which at the time appear to be of little significance. That were a rash prophet who, in advance, would have predicted the changes that have been made in the world's map and in its history following the trip of the two frail canoes, which, in the summer of 1673, carried Louis Joliet, "an envoy of France to discover new countries," and Jacques Marquette, "an ambassador from God to enlighten them with the gospel," down the "Ouisconsin" in search of the great water whose magnificence had long been heralded by the natives of the north and west.

And yet, with the beginning of this little expedition really began the history of the Mississippi valley, now one of the most magnificent empires in the world. Professor Weld in his admirable address "On the Way to Iowa," referring to the Mississippi valley, says:

"Toward this region the tide of world empire has been setting for three-quarters of a century and is not yet even at its height. The financier may* turn his eyes toward Wall street or Threadneedle street. The student may plan his pilgrimage to Cambridge or Leipsig. The artist may long for the inspiration afforded by the Louvre, or the galleries of Florence, but the teeming millions of the over crowded places of the world with hands restless to do and hearts ready to dare, turn eager faces toward this 'great central basin of North America.'"

Of course there is a sense in which it may be said that the voyages and explorations of Cartier and Champlain, of Jean Nicollet and Father Brebeuf, of Radisson and Grosseilliers, all have a necessary historic connection with the Mississippi valley, but nevertheless, for all practical purposes the history of this great valley begins on the 10th of June, 1673, when the Jesuit missionary and his companions came to the portage between the Fox and the Wisconsin rivers. Here, in the words of Marquette, these pioneers of the west "left the waters flowing to Quebec to float upon those which would conduct us thenceforward to strange lands."

It is evident from Marquette's narrative that at this time, if not before, they recognized the gravity, if not the importance, of their undertaking, for he says:

"The guides returned, leaving us alone in this unknown land in the hands of Providence." Shortly before this. Marquette had been warned that the distant nations, to whom he was endeavoring to go, were savage and warlike and "never spared the strangers," and that the Great River abounded in monsters...

pg 16

... which would devour both men and their canoes. But the gentle Marquette had no fear. His only answer was: "I shall gladly lay down my life for the salvation of souls."

After seven days they reached the mouth of the Wisconsin and "entered happily the Great River with a joy that could not be expressed." They proceeded down this new and unknown water without any important adventure until near June 25th. At that time Marquette says:

"Proceeding south and southwest, we find ourselves at 41 degrees north; then at 40 degrees and some minutes, partly by southeast and partly by southwest, after having advanced more than sixty leagues since entering the river, without discovering anything. At last, on the 25th of June, 1673, we perceived the footprints of men by the water's edge, and a beaten path entering a beautiful prairie. We stopped to examine it, and concluding that it was a path leading to some Indian village, we resolved to go and reconnoitre; we accordingly left our two canoes in charge of our people, cautioning them strictly to beware of a surprise. Then M. Jollyet and I undertook this rather hazardous discovery, for two single men, who thus put themselves at the discretion of an unknown and barbarous people."

The narrative of Marquette proceeds as follows: "We followed the little path in silence, and, having advanced about two leagues, we discovered a village on the banks of the river, and two others on a hill a half league from the former." Then, recommending themselves to God, they continued on without being discovered until they got so near that they could hear the Indians talking. Deeming it time to announce themselves they did so with a loud cry, and halted. At this cry the Indians rushed from their cabins and seeing the "Blackgovvn" (Indian name for a Jesuit), they deputed four of their old men to speak with the strangers. The narrative then proceeds: "Two carried tobacco pipes, well adorned and trimmed with many kinds of feathers. They marched slowly, lifting their pipes toward the sun, as if offering them to him to smoke, but yet without uttering a single word. They were a long time coming the little way from the village to us. Having reached us at last, they stopped to consider us attentively. I now took courage, seeing these ceremonies which were used by them only with friends. ... I therefore spoke to them first, and asked them who they were; they answered that they were Illinois, and in token of peace they presented their pipes to smoke."

We may properly pause in the narrative here to locate the historic spot upon which these two white men first set their foot on Iowa soil, and where they first encountered the savages, and saw their villages. Until a comparatively recent date historians, with some misgivings, have fixed this spot as being near Montrose, in Lee county. But Professor Laenas Gifford Weld, in a very scholarly article, entitled "Joliet and Marquette in Iowa," published in the Iowa Journal of History and Politics, in January, 1903, has practically settled the question in favor of this county. Professor Weld's article is accompanied by a copy of a portion of Dr. Shea's fac simile of Marquette's original map, and his observations and conclusions will be much better understood of course by consulting the map. Therefore we have had the map copied. Professor Weld, after giving a brief outline of Marquette's story of his voyage, says: "Marquette's narrative, just cited, is so vague with reference to topographical details and so inconsistent with respect to geographical positions that little dependence can...

MAP ...

pg 17

... be placed upon it, except when taken in connection with the accompanying map. This last will be made the subject of somewhat careful examination, its genuineness being assumed as thoroughly established. We have to note in the first instance that the latitudes as given upon Marquette's map are in error, all being about one degree too far south, except Akansea, the southermost part reached, which is correctly placed at 33 degrees 40 minutes. Herewith is presented a carefully prepared copy of a portion of Dr. Shea's fax simile of the original, much reduced. The parallels of latitude are as indicated by the marginal figures in the original, while the meridians of longitude are separated by intervals obtained by multiplying the average latitude interval of one degree by the cosine of 40 degrees, the 'middle latitude'— in accordance with a well known mathematical principle. The meridian of 91 degrees has been placed near to the mouth of the Wisconsin, its true position. On the right hand margin of the map Marquette's latitudes are indicated. On the left these latitudes have been increased by one degree; so that, if read from this margin, Marquette's map has been lifted bodily one degree in latitude. The dotted sketch on the left of the map represents the true course of the Mississippi and, presumably, those tributaries which are noted by Marquette. The longitudes along the lower margin, to the left, refer to this dotted sketch only. A comparison of Marquette's river with the true course of the Mississippi shows that his plot is a marvelously accurate one, as far down as the mouth of the Ohio. Inasmuch as means of determining longitude by portable instruments were not available in Marquette's day, we can only explain the accuracy with which his longitudes are plotted by supposing that careful note was taken, at least until the latter part of the voyage down stream, of distances and courses sailed. Otherwise, it is impossible to explain the close conformity exhibited by the accompanying illustration.

"This discrepancy of one degree in Marquette's latitudes would seem to demand explanation. Let it be noted that the complete map includes a large portion of Lake Superior, St. Mary's river and the straits of Mackinac, regions well known to Marquette and the other Jesuit missionaries of the time. Accompanying the Jesuit Relation of 1670-1, prepared by Dablon, is a map of this upper lake region entitled, Lac Supirieur et autres lieux ou sout les Missions des Peres de la Compagnie de Jesus comprises sous le nom d'Outaouacs. Without doubt Marquette was familiar with this map, which was probably the work of some of his own associates. It is even conceivable that he sketched the upper portion of his own map directly from it. The fact that it includes, among others, the altogether irrelevant entry, Chemin au Assinipoualak a 120 lieus vers le Nordouest, which also appears upon the map of 1670-1, seems to confirm this theory. Now upon this map of 1670-1 the latitudes of Mission du St. Esprit of Mission de Ste. Marie, of St. Ignace and of the Pottawattomie village at the head of Green Bay, near to the Mission of St. Francois Xavier, are exactly as recorded upon Marquette's map. Whether the mistake is due to the defective astrolabe of some Jesuit geographer, or to some other cause, does not concern us. The error is evidently reproduced in the upper portions of Marquette's map and, supposing that his map was plotted by 'dead reckoning,' would naturally be propagated far down the Mississippi.

"Certain it is that the latitudes upon the map do not agree with those given in the narrative. Moreover, those paragraphs describing the voyage from the Vol. I-2 ...

pg 18

... time at which the explorers entered the Mississippi up to the time of landing near Peouarea are utterly irreconcilable, so far as the latitudes and directions are concerned, with the true course of the Mississippi. Neither is it possible to interpret them at all satisfactorily upon the assumption that some of the latitudes were correctly given by Joliet while others are of Marquette's own determination.

"While the journal does not specifically state that the latitude vaguely given as '40 degrees and some minutes' is that of Peouarea, it is evident from the map that this is to be understood. The estimated distance traversed since entering the Mississippi— over sixty leagues—is as indefinite as the estimate itself is uncertain: If twenty leagues be counted to the degree, in nautical fashion, the distance is above 207 statute miles. This would indicate as the place of landing some point on the river near Port Louisa in Louisa county. The latitude of this point is about 41 degrees 12 minutes, which is something over a degree greater than that of Peouarea as given by Marquette's map and nearly the same amount greater than that inferred from the narrative. The stream entering here from the west, as shown in the sketch of the true course of the Mississippi, is the Iowa river."

Further on in his article Professor Weld points out that this error of one degree of latitude appears in the location of the curve of the Mississippi between Keokuk and Quincy, and in the location of the mouths of the Illinois, Missouri and Ohio rivers. He then gives a diagram comparing Marquette's latitude with the true latitude of all stations shown on his map, which have been identified. This is referred to in his article as Figure 2, and it is so necessary to a proper understanding of the situation that we have also made a copy of it.

Professor Weld then proceeds,

"Whatever may be the true explanation of the latitude errors of Marquette's chart, nothing can more clearly prove that it is an actual plot, made during the course of the voyage, than the manner in which he abridges the last stretch of the river and ends its course abruptly at latitude 33 degrees 40 minutes. There is no speculation as to its course either below that point, or above the point at which the stream was first entered. Whatever discrepancies may have found their way into his narrative as a result, it may be. of 'comparing notes' with Joliet. Marquette's chart is genuine, consistent, and honest. In the accompanying diagram the comparison of the latitudes of all identifiable stations, as given on Marquette's map, with their true latitudes, as taken from a modern chart, is rendered simple and easy. It is evident at a glance that the river at whose mouth Marquette locates Peouarea can correspond with no other considerable stream than the Iowa. Attention should also be called, perhaps, to the southern 'dip' of the Iowa, on the one hand, and of the stream indicated by Marquette on the other."

We may add also that Dr. John Gilmore Shea in his work on "The Discovery and Exploration of the Mississippi Valley" (1903), which is our authority for such quotations as we make from Marquette's narrative, says in a note on Page 22, in referring to the Indian villages mentioned by Marquette, "These villages are laid down on the map on the westerly side of the Mississippi, and the only two given are Peouarea and Moingwena, whence it is generally supposed that the river on which they lay is that now called Des Moines. The upper part of the river still bears the name of Moingonan, while the latitude of the mouth seems to establish the identity. It must, however, be admitted that the latitude given at that day differs from ours generally from 30 degrees to a degree, as we see …
MAP t— 33° part of Map

Fig. 2. A diagramatic comparison of Marquette's latitudes with the true latitudes of all identifiable stations shown upon his map. The dotted lines refer to stations other than those along the Mississippi, some of which do not appear in Fig. 1. The interrupted line is drawn from Peouarea upon the assumption that the stream indicated at this point upon Marquette's map is the Iowa river.

pg 19

... in the case of the Wisconsin and Ohio. This would throw Moingwena somewhat higher up."

Having established the great probability, if not the practical certainty, that this notable event is a part of our county history, we return to the quaint and interesting narrative of Father Marquette:

"At the door of the cabin in which we were to be received was an old man awaiting us in a very remarkable posture; which is their usual ceremony in receiving strangers. This man was standing, perfectly naked, with his hands stretched out and raised toward the sun, as if he wished to screen himself from its rays, which nevertheless passed through his fingers to his face. When we came near him, he paid us this compliment: 'How beautiful is the sun, O Frenchman, when thou comest to visit us! All our towns await thee, and thou shalt enter all our cabms in peace.' Marquette and Joliet were then taken into this Indian's cabin, where they were presented with the calumet, or pipe of peace. They then went, by special invitation, to the town 'of the great sachem of all the Illinois,' but the narrative does not tell just where this was, unless it is the one referred to as being 'on the hill about a half a league away.'"

He continues: "Having arrived at the great sachem's town, we espied him at his cabin door, between two old men, all three standing naked, with their calumet turned to the sun. He harangued us in a few words, to congratulate us on our arrival, and then presented us his calumet and made us smoke."

Marquette then gave the sachem some presents, and made a speech, telling of the peaceful and religious nature of his visit. His story proceeds: "When I had finished my speech, the sachem rose, and laying his hand on the head of a little slave, whom he was about to give us, spoke thus: 'I thank thee, Blackgown, and thee, Frenchman,' addressing Jollyet, 'for taking so much pains to come and visit us; never has the earth been so beautiful, nor the sun so bright, as today: never has our river been so calm, nor so free from rocks, which your canoes have removed as they passed; never has our tobacco had so fine a flavor, nor our corn appeared so beautiful as we behold it today. Here is my son, that I give thee, that thou mayest know my heart. I pray thee to take pity on me and all my nation. Thou knowest the Great Spirit who has made us all; thou speakest to him and hearest his word; ask him to give me health and life, and come and dwell with us, that we may know him.'"

The sachem then gave Marquette "an all-mysterious calumet," and begged him not to, go further on account of the great danger to which he would be exposed. The first Iowa banquet is thus described: "The council was followed by a great feast which consisted of four courses, which we had to take with all their ways; the first course was a great wooden dish full of sagamity, that is to say, of Indian meal boiled in water and seasoned with grease. The master of ceremonies, with a spoonful of sagamity, presented it three or four times to my mouth, as we would do with a little child; he did the same to M. Jollyet. For the second course he brought on a second dish, containing three fish; he took some pains to remove the bones, and having blown upon it to cool it, put it in my mouth, as he would food to a bird. For the third course they produced a large dog, which they had just killed, but learning that we did not eat it, it was withdrawn. Finally, the fourth course was a piece of wild ox (buffalo) the fattest portions of which were put into our mouths. ...

pg 20

... "After this feast we had to visit the whole village, which consists of full three hundred cabins. While we marched through the streets an orator was constantly haranguing, to oblige all to see us, without being troublesome. . . . We slept in the sachem's cabin, and the next day took leave of him, promising to pass back through his town in four moons. He escorted us to our canoes with nearly six hundred persons, who saw us embark, evincing in every possible way the pleasure our visit had given them."

In these simple and earnest words is recorded the "opening incident" in the great drama which has resulted in the partial extinction and permanent banishment from this great valley, of its former savage masters, and which has transformed its unexplored and sparsely settled forests and prairies into powerful and populous commonwealths.

And we of this county may at least take satisfaction, if not pride, in the reasonable belief that Iowa history had its beginning here; that it was within the present limits of Louisa county that the first white man set foot upon Iowa soil, and that the first conference or council, held in the Mississippi valley between civilized man and his savage brother, took place near our present county seat, between the Iowa river and Muscatine slough.

It was here that the envoy of France, and the self-styled, but sincere, "ambassador of God" first sought to impress the temporal power of an earthly King, and the spiritual glory of a Heavenly Father, upon those "wild republicans" of the middle west, whose tribal name, Illinois, signified that they were men.

As noted by Dr. Salter, in his "Iowa," this incident has been immortalized by one of our best loved poets in the closing scene of Hiawatha, and we append a few lines, borrowed from that charming poem: (found on pgs 20-21)