250 Years Ago* ... St. Louis was only a twinkle in the eye...

Happy Birthday St. Louis.  Today, February 15, 2013, is your 249th birthday (or maybe it was yesterday, it depends who you ask.  The group arrived on the 14th but they didn't "break ground" until the 15th?).  One more year to go until the Big Birthday.

250 years ago St. Louis was still only a twinkle in the eyes of Maxent and Laclede.  The final copy of the Treaty of Paris, signed only a few weeks previously, would not yet have arrived in New Orleans.  In November, Paris had sent a letter to Governor Kerlerec notifying him of the proposed terms of the treaty but that letter would not arrive in New Orleans until April of 1763.  But Canada and Detroit had been under British occupation since the end of 1760.  If there were not rumors of the treaty 's proposed terms coming from the east, down the Wabash River to the Ohio and then the Mississippi, there certainly would have been speculation.  The transfer of the west side of the Mississippi from France to Spain, however, remained a secret.

In any event, Laclede was scheduled to leave with the summer convoys up the Mississippi to establish a post on the west side of the Mississippi near the confluence of the Missouri and Mississippi rivers.  Laclede would need men and merchandise to take with him. Presumably, by February of 1763 he and Maxent were in the midst of their planning for the new post and the journey up the Mississippi.  

In the meantime, the people of the Illinois Country were hearing rumors of continued war against the British by the allied Indian tribes.  It appears that the French garrison at Fort de Chartres held themselves aloof from the entreaties of the Indian allies to act against the British, but messages were traveling between the tribes in the Illinois and Ohio Countries.  In his excellent book, The Middle Ground, Richard White examines the rapidly deteriorating attitudes of the tribes to the conquering British.  "By the fall of 1762", he writes, "the most experienced Indian traders on the Ohio River expected war."  France could make peace only for itself, not for its Indian allies.

But the people of the little village of Nouvelle Chartres had other things on their mind.  Just the day before, the village had buried a ten year old boy.

In the year one thousand seven hundred sixty-three, the fourteenth of January was buried the body of the son of Sanschagrin, otherwise called Joseph Henet, who died at ten years of age, without the Sacraments.+

The boy is a member of the Hennet dit Sanschagrin family, one of the older families in Nouvelle Chartres.  He seems to be the son of Joseph Hennet dit Sanchagrin (although the clumsy wording makes it possible that the boy's name was also Joseph).  The fact that the mother is not named and no sacraments were administered might mean that the child was illegitimate, but it isn't clear.

Joseph Hennet dit Sanschagrin was the son of Francois Hennet dit Sanschagrin, who had emigrated to the Illinois country from Switzerland, and Marianne Charpain.  Marianne seems to have died in 1734.  Francois, the father, died in December, 1746 at age 50 leaving children who were not yet of age, including his son Joseph.  The oldest son, Francois the younger, was named guardian of his younger siblings.  Francois the younger was a master roofer and in June of 1746 he had married Marguerite Becquet, the daughter of my ancestors Jean Baptiste Nicolas Becquet and Catherine Barreau.  So, depending on the circumstances, it is possible that the entire Becquet family had attended the burial.

+See Brown and Dean's The Village of Chartres in Colonial Illinois 1720-1765;  See also, Natalia Maree Belting's Kaskaskia under the French Regime .

*Part of my continuing blog series leading up to the 250^th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014.

250 Years Ago ... The Treaty of Paris*

On February 10, 1763 the Mississippi River became, in the eyes of the world, an international boundary line. On that date the Treaty of Paris, which formalized the peace between France and Great Britain, was signed.  The Seven Years War (known in the British North American colonies as the French and Indian War) was over.  Britain had won.

Under the terms of the treaty, France formally ceded to Britain all of its possession east of the Mississippi River, except for New Orleans.  Although France had previously ceded to Spain all of its land west of the Mississippi, as well as New Orleans, under the Treaty of Fontainbleau, that fact had not yet been made public and Spain had made no move to take control of her new possession. 

Article VII of the treaty (a full copy of which is here) makes the middle of the Mississippi River the boundary line and ensures free navigation of the river to those on both sides:

VII. In order to re-establish peace on solid and durable foundations, and to remove for ever all subject of dispute with regard to the limits of the British and French territories on the continent of America; it is agreed, that, for the future, the confines between the dominions of his Britannick Majesty and those of his Most Christian Majesty, in that part of the world, shall be fixed irrevocably by a line drawn along the middle of the River Mississippi, from its source to the river Iberville, and from thence, by a line drawn along the middle of this river, and the lakes Maurepas and Pontchartrain to the sea; and for this purpose, the Most Christian King cedes in full right, and guaranties to his Britannick Majesty the river and port of the Mobile, and every thing which he possesses, or ought to possess, on the left side of the river Mississippi, except the town of New Orleans and the island in which it is situated, which shall remain to France, provided that the navigation of the river Mississippi shall be equally free, as well to the subjects of Great Britain as to those of France, in its whole breadth and length, from its source to the sea, and expressly that part which is between the said island of New Orleans and the right bank of that river, as well as the passage both in and out of its mouth: It is farther stipulated, that the vessels belonging to the subjects of either nation shall not be stopped, visited, or subjected to the payment of any duty whatsoever. The stipulations inserted in the IVth article, in favour of the inhabitants of Canada shall also take place with regard to the inhabitants of the countries ceded by this article. 

Imagine yourself as a third generation French North American, suddenly finding yourself abandoned by your monarch and country and now under the jurisdiction of the enemy.  Think of the trauma.  And the uncertainty.  Britain was a Protestant country with a significant anti-Catholic faction - Catholics were seen as threats to the stability of Britain after the Jacobite rebellions.  France was a Catholic country and the French subjects in North America were (to greater and lesser degrees) practicing Catholics.  If they stayed on, would they be persecuted?  And if they wanted to leave - how are a defeated people to effect an orderly evacuation?   The French army was leaving but it would be more difficult for other French to just pick up and move in an orderly fashion.  

Note the last sentence of Article VII, which was intended by the French monarch to assure his former subjects in the Illinois Country that the rules that would apply to the cession of Canada would apply to them too.  Article IV provides in part:

IV.  .... His Britannick Majesty, on his side, agrees to grant the liberty of the Catholick religion to the inhabitants of Canada: he will, in consequence, give the most precise and most effectual orders, that his new Roman Catholic subjects may profess the worship of their religion according to the rites of the Romish church, as far as the laws of Great Britain permit. His Britannick Majesty farther agrees, that the French inhabitants, or others who had been subjects of the Most Christian King in Canada, may retire with all safety and freedom wherever they shall think proper, and may sell their estates, provided it be to the subjects of his Britannick Majesty, and bring away their effects as well as their persons, without being restrained in their emigration, under any pretence whatsoever, except that of debts or of criminal prosecutions: The term limited for this emigration shall be fixed to the space of eighteen months, to be computed from the day of the exchange of the ratification of the present treaty.

In short, if the inhabitants of the Illinois Country decided to stay put, they could still practice their religion within the laws of Great Britain (which at the time prohibited Catholics from holding governmental or judicial appointments).   

According to Wikipedia:

Article IV has also been cited as the basis for Quebec often having its unique set of laws that are different from the rest of Canada. There was a general constitutional principle in the United Kingdom to allow colonies taken through conquest to continue their own laws. This was limited by royal perogative, and the monarch could still choose to change the accepted laws in a conquered colony. However, the treaty eliminated this power because by a different constitutional principle, terms of a treaty were considered paramount. In practice, Roman Catholics could become jurors in inferior courts in Quebec and argue based on principles of French law. However, the judge was British and his opinion on French law could be limited or hostile. If the case was appealed to a superior court, neither French law nor Roman Catholic jurors were allowed.

The Illinois Country inhabitants were also free to liquidate their possessions and leave, as long as they sold their estates to British subjects.  And for an eighteen month period they were guaranteed that no one would restrain them from leaving. 

The clock was running for the people of the Illinois Country. 



*Part of my continuing blog series leading up to the 250^th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014. 

Remember the stance and the swing ...

They buried Stan Musial today.  Opening Day in St. Louis ( a civic holiday in every respect except legally) will never be the same.   No more Stan riding around the infield, ushering in the new baseball season.  That makes me profoundly sad.

Stan's last at-bat was in 1963.  I was three years old and I don't remember it.  But I have memories of Stan because Stan didn't leave.  He stayed with the organization and he stayed in St. Louis.  He was around.  You might see him at a restaurant.  Some people saw him at Mass.  In the 1980's when I first started working downtown I would occasionally catch glimpses of him on the street.  I saw him in the airport one time when I was returning from a business trip and he was on his way to Kansas City for the World Series, and I was struck by the fact that EVERYONE in the airport was walking past him as he rode the people-mover, telling him to "bring home a winner" just like they were talking to one of their friends. It wasn't at all like they were talking to a celebrity.

I have an autographed picture of Stan.  So does probably half of St. Louis.  He'd give out autographs to anyone who asked for them.  He was that kind of guy.

Stan was one of the greats of baseball but most of the country didn't seem to know it. From Wikipedia:

Nicknamed "Stan the Man", Musial was a record 24-time All-Star selection (tied with Willie Mays), and is widely considered to be one of the greatest hitters in baseball history.^[1] He compiled 3,630 hits (ranking fourth all-time and most in a career spent with only one team). With 1,815 hits at home and 1,815 on the road, he also is considered to be the most consistent hitter of his era.^[1] He also compiled 475 home runs during his career, was named the National League's (NL) Most Valuable Player (MVP) three times, and won three World Series championship titles. Musial was a first-ballot inductee to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1969.

         *****

Nearly two decades after Musial retired, baseball statistician Bill James and the sabermetrics movement began providing new ways of comparing players across baseball history.^[160] In 2001, James ranked Musial the tenth-greatest baseball player in history, and the second-best left fielder of all time.^[161] According to Baseball-Reference.com, he ranks fifth all-time among hitters on the Black Ink Test, and third all-time on the Gray Ink Test—measures designed to compare players of different eras.^[43][162] He ranks first on Baseball-Reference's Hall of Fame Monitor Test, and is tied for second in the Hall of Fame Career Standards Test.^[43] Despite his statistical accomplishments, he is sometimes referred to as the most underrated or overlooked athlete in modern American sports history.^[163][164] For instance, in his analysis of baseball's under- and overrated players in 2007, sportswriter Jayson Stark said, "I can't think of any all-time great in any sport who gets left out of more who's-the-greatest conversations than Stan Musial."^[163]

Well, we appreciated him.  Stan played 22 years, all with the St. Louis Cardinals.  That never happens anymore.  Players don't stay with one team anymore.  But almost as important as all those years was the fact that he stuck around after his retirement.  He was St. Louis.

The flags have been flying at half-mast this week.  Tributes have been left at the stadium next to his statue.  Today he was buried and his funeral was televised.  St. Louis will not be the same now that Stan is gone.

Goodbye Stan.  We'll miss you. 

Here's his last at-bat in 1963.  Harry Carey calls it:

Winter Garden

I spent most of November and December eating lunch at my desk at work.  Now that things have slowed up, and the weather is not so bad, I have an urge to spend as much time as possible outside.  So one sunny day this week I headed over to the Missouri Botanical Garden at lunch time to take a walk.  Although I get irritated that the Garden has seemingly chosen to develop every square inch of space that it has and leave no open green space, (not to mention plastering donors' names everywhere in incredibly tacky ways) it is still generally a nice place to visit.

The Garden was originally the country estate of Henry Shaw. Here's his country home, Tower Grove House, today.

It must have taken Henry quite a while to get from his town house, located at 7th and Locust (only a few blocks from where my office is today), out to his country house.  But today it is a short drive from downtown. It takes me about ten minutes to get there, which leaves time for a nice walk.
 
Even on a winter's day there are things going on at the Garden.

On this particular day it was sunny but a little chilly so I decided to go into the Climatron, the big greenhouse shaped like a geodesic dome.

On a sunny day it is quite cheerful inside, walking through all that humidity that I would be complaining about if it were summer.

Since it is a tropical greenhouse most of the vegetation is just ... green.  But there were little glimpses of color here and there that were nice to see on a winter's day.

And there are still some Chihuly's left over from the big exhibition they had there a few years ago.

It was a nice winter break.  Thank you Henry Shaw.  Leaving your home to all of us was a lovely thing to do.

St. Louis Central Library

In my last post I said that I needed to branch out to new branches of my local public library system.  On Saturday I visited the St. Louis Central Library in downtown St. Louis.  Designed by Cass Gilbert (who was also the architect for the United States Supreme Court) and made possible by a generous grant from Andrew Carnegie, Central Library was built in 1912.   During most of my life it was one of those libraries that was not meant to be used for browsing.  You looked up books in the voluminous card catalogs and put in requests at the central desk and waited for them to be retrieved from the stacks.   When you put in requests from your local branch, this was generally where they came from.

As a Girl Scout we went on a tour of Central Library.  The stacks had glass floors.  That sounds somewhat cooler than it was; they were heavy glass block floors not plate glass.  But still, it was unexpected.  Books were retrieved and sent to the main desk via a pneumatic tube system.

Of course glass floors aren't earthquake proof so when the Public Library system decided to do a $70 million renovation of Central Library the glass floors had to go.  As did all the central stacks.  It is now a "regular" library where you can browse the collection, which makes it much more user friendly.

I forgot to take a photo of the outside so here is a wikipedia photo taken before Central Library was shut down two years ago for the renovation:




Although the building looks like a standard building it actually is an oval shaped central hall that is connected to four surrounding rectangular galleries via "bridges", thus letting in lots of light to the interior of the building.

The above is the front entrance on Olive Street.  You walk into very formal space, all marble.  On either side of the foyer are stairs to take you up to other levels with beautiful stained glass windows:

Then you walk through a hallway that is really a "bridge" into the oval grand hall, where you used to have to ask for books.  I only took a  photo of the ceiling and the windows along one side:

  If all of this seems very stuffy for a library, you are right.  It is beautiful, but not conducive to browsing.  But that's ok, there's nothing to browse in the grand hall.  They will have special exhibitions and events in there.  From the grand hall you can walk back across another "bridge" to the back of the building into what used to be the stacks.

And here's where the surprise is:  A three story modern glass enclosed atrium that shows you where all the books are:

You can now enter the library from what used to be the back of the building and go right into the "library" part of the library, without having to climb up all those steps on the Olive Street entrance.

Here's the view from the main reading room back into the atrium - see how light it is:

I've read that NY is going to do a similar thing to its central library - replace the old stacks with a light filled atrium.  I've also read that it is very controversial.  All I can say is that I LOVE the way it was done here in St. Louis. The minute I walked into the atrium I started smiling.  In fact there was a smile on my face the entire time I walked through the building and all the people who were working in the building were smiling too.

The exterior of the building has famous quotes carved into the stone.  The ceiling in the new reading room has quotes on the ceiling.  Here it says "All this happened, more or less" (Kurt Vonnegut):

 It is very cool.  When I went down to see it I didn't think that I'd be so enamored of it and it didn't occur to me that I might make it my main library stop in the future.  After all, it isn't really convenient.  But it made me want to go back and browse.
As we were walking through I saw a copy of The Bookseller by Mark Pryor which I had been considering reading.  So I picked it up and checked it out on my way out!

Yes, yes.  I was going to read fewer mysteries in 2013, but I was also going to visit more libraries.

How was the book?  It was ok.  It's the first in a series and it shows.  A little too much explanation and a little too much serendipity.  I'm not sure I'll read the other books in the series but I was glad that I saw something to check out simply as I walked through the room.  Who knows what I'll find when I have time to browse? 

250 Years Ago ... Celebrating the New Year

 *Part of my continuing blog series leading up to the 250^th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014. 
 

It is New Year's Eve and we all have our celebratory traditions.  Back before St. Louis was founded, the French settlements in the Mississippi river valley would have celebrated on this night by observing the tradition of 

La Guiannée or La Guignolèe.

  

Because I'm feeling a little lazy today, I will rely on Wikipedia to describe the background of this custom:

La Guiannée or La Guignolée is a French medieval New Year's Eve tradition that is still practiced in two towns in the United States. The tradition related to poor people being able to ask the more wealthy for food and drink at the celebrations of winter. Customarily a troupe of traveling male singers went from door to door to entertain and ring in the new year. Hosts were expected to give them food and drink. Other sources say the young men were seeking donations for Twelfth Night. Begun as a way for the poor to be given gratuities by the rich, it also became a community social event for young men to visit with the families of young women.
Over time, the practice became an occasion for visiting with relatives and friends, and was more or less, a traveling feast. At first it was carried on only by young men, often in costume; women joined the party in the 20th century. In many years, the people appeared in disguise, as part of the celebration was a kind of overturning of the common order.

  

The two towns in the United States where the custom is still observed are the little village of Prairie du Rocher, Illinois, which is located just south of the location of old Fort de Chartes, and Ste. Genevieve Missouri, located across the river.   

Here's a description of the celebration in Ste. Genevieve:

Ste. Genevieve, Missouri, lays claim to being the first permanent European settlement west of the Mississippi. Founded by French traders, it remained for centuries a French enclave in the midst of an increasingly Anglophone Midwest. Today, the last generation of native French speakers is disappearing, but old traditions still remain. The most visible is La Guignolée, a medieval tradition analagous to the English custom of wassailing. Every New Year's Eve, the descendants of St. Genevieve's French settlers don bizarre and archaic costumes and wander from bar to bar, singing a begging song that harks back to the Middle Ages.

       "The song asks for a piece of meat -- forty feet long, if I remember right," says Duke Blechler, leader of the current Ste. Genevieve Guignolée singers. "And if the people didn't have a piece of meat to give them, they would ask for their eldest daughter. Take her out, wine her and dine her -- which doesn't sound very good, you know."

       In every bar, the singers are welcomed with a drink and, as the night wears on, they begin to sway a bit and the French lyrics become harder and harder to understand. The spirit of the musical tradition keeps coming through loud and clear, though, until the last singer stumbles home to catch a few hours sleep before New Year's morning mas

 Here for your listening pleasure are Dennis and Jennifer Stroughmatt playing the song traditionally sung on La Guianee, so you can hear it (unfortunately they were  not playing it on a New Year's Eve but, rather, in summer):

   And here is one translation of the lyrics of the song:

Good evening master and mistress,
And all who live with you.
For the first day of the year,
You owe us La Guignolée. If you have nothing to give,
A chine of meat or so will do.
A chine of meat is not a big thing,
Only ninety feet long. Again, we don't ask for very much,
Only the oldest daughter of the house.
We will give her lots of good cheer,
And we will surely warm her feet. Now, we greet you,
And beg you to forgive us please.
If we have acted a little crazy,
We meant it in good fun. Another time we'll surely be careful
To know when we must come back here again.
Let us dance La Guenille,
-- La Guenille, La Guenille!

 Whatever your traditions, Bonne année et bonne santé !

250 Years Ago ... 250 in 250

 *Part of my continuing blog series leading up to the 250^th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014.

The Missouri History Museum is a little behind me in announcing how they are going to commemorate the 250th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014. But they did just announce 250 in 250:

St. Louis will turn 250 years old in 2014, and we recently decided to plan an exhibit to commemorate the anniversary. This exhibit gives us the opportunity to tell St. Louis’s history in a number of new ways and to invite our visitors to think broadly and deeply about the city’s past, present, and future. It also gives us the opportunity to take our History Happens Here readers behind the scenes of the exhibit-making process in a way we’ve never done before.

 History Happens Here is the blog of the Missouri History Museum. And it promises to take us along as they plan the exhibition.

What we know so far is this. Our exhibit commemorating St. Louis’s 250^th anniversary will open in February of 2014 in the gallery that is currently being used for the Discover the Real George Washington exhibit.

Also, we have already decided how we want to organize the exhibit (this often doesn’t happen until later in the process). We will tell 250 years of St. Louis history through 50 people, 50 places, 50 moments, 50 images, and 50 objects. That framework provides us with a number of opportunities but also a number of challenges.

 Apparently what they intend is to pack the entire 250 years into one exhibition rather than focus on what happened 250 years ago.  I'm generally OK with that, although I think they are missing a chance to celebrate the old French heritage of the City.   But I'm sure it will be a fun exhibition.  Over the last number of years I've been impressed with most of the history museum's exhibitions.

Still, it would be nice if the City or one of its major cultural institutions would sponsor a French Fête for the event.  After all, February ... that's mardi gras time isn't it?  And we do have the second biggest Mardi Gras celebration in the country.  Hmmm. 

 

250 Years Ago ... Why the Big Secret?

 *Part of my continuing blog series leading up to the 250^th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014.

 On November 23, 1762 France and Spain signed the Treaty of Fontainebleau whereby France ceded control of Louisiana to Spain.  This fact, however, remained secret for a few years; news didn't make its way up the Mississippi until 1764.  Spain, in fact, would not take over governance of Louisiana until 1766.  

As I was researching the history of the Treaty, I kept looking for a simple explanation for why the treaty was secret.  I assumed that in any given history book, there would be a quick explanation of the strategy that France and Spain were pursuing in keeping the treaty secret.

Surprisingly, there is little discussion of this. Most historians simply referred to the treaty as the "secret" Treaty of Fontainebleau if they referred to the secret at all.  Perhaps looking at it through the eyes of Anglo-centric history, as we often do, it was just one of those things that France and Spain did.  France was the historic enemy, it couldn't be trusted, so OF COURSE it secretly gave the land west of the Mississippi to Spain.  Or, another way to look at it, was that Louisiana was the price that France had to pay to Spain in order to make peace; keeping it a secret saved everybody's face.  Other historians imply that, after the war, Spain was in a better financial position to maintain the barrier between Britain and its own silver mines in Mexico, which might have been true but doesn't explain why it had to be secret.  

Another theory is that maintaining and strengthening the "Family Compact"between the Bourbon King of France and the Bourbon King of Spain was part of France's long term strategy for rebuilding after the war and eventually waging war, again, on Britain.  The cession of Louisiana to Spain helped strengthen that tie. Perhaps that is why it had to be kept secret.  If France's strategy was to simply rebuild, strengthen its alliances and come back against Britain as soon as possible, it is reasonable that they wouldn't want to let Britain in on any part of that strategy too soon.

W.J. Eccles, the noted Canadian historian, buys into the Family Compact theory.  He believes that France's main goal in ending the Seven Years war was to make peace in such a way that they could rebuild their army and navy in as fast a time as possible, consolidate their alliance with Spain, and eventually become strong enough to wage war again in the hope of restoring the balance of power in the world and stop the growth of the ever mightier British Empire. 

Eccles is one of the few historians I've read who is specific about France's view of the role of Britain's North American colonies in their plans. (See his essays, The Role of the American Colonies in Eighteenth -Century French Foreign Policy, and The Social, Economic, and Political Significance of the Military Establishment in New France.)   In his view, by as early as 1710 the French saw the Anglo Americans, and their independent way of thinking, as a source of trouble for the British.  The chief minister for the French North American colonies, hearing a rumor that the people of New England had established "a sort of Republic" in which they were "unwilling to accept the absolute governors of the Kings of England" wrote to the Governor of Canada to tell him of Louis XIV's approval of this state of affairs and his encouragement for Canada to join with the "Council of Boston" to aid it in this endeavor.  Of course this plan came to naught, but it is interesting that the despot, Louis XIV, was willing to encourage a republic in North America if it meant a thorn in the side of Britain.  

By mid-century, according to Eccles, observers were saying that the only thing keeping the Anglo American colonies tied to Britain was a fear of the French and Indians along the inland borders.  He quotes a 1748 letter by the Swedish botanist Peter Kalm:

The English colonies in North America, in the space of thirty or fifty years, would be able to form a state by themselves entirely independent of Old England.  But as the whole country which lies along the seashore is unguarded, and on the land side harassed by the French, these dangerous neighbours in time of war are sufficient to prevent the connection of the colonies with their mother country from being quite broken off. 

The French never saw their own North American colonies as profitable and constantly questioned whether they should continue with them.  However, the French did not want to see the British spread out across the entire North American continent, as far west as New Spain and the silver mines of Mexico.   In France's view, imperial Britain already had too much power.  Control of the entire North American continent by the British would be intolerable.  Hence, French policy in the 1700's was to use its North American colonies to keep the British hemmed in along the Atlantic seaboard. 

The fall of Canada in the Seven Years War shattered this policy.  By war's end the British were poised to keep Canada and all the land east of the Mississippi River.  What was the reaction of France to the fall of Canada itself?  They simply switched to Plan B.  After all, the concern wasn't Canada, the concern was defeating that old enemy Britain.

The reaction in France to these events is revealing.  The King's only concern was over the fact that his troops had been obliged to lay down their arms without receiving the honours of war. That concerned him greatly; the loss of half a continent and the fate of his Canadian subjects concerned him not at all.  Nor did his chief minister, the single-minded duc de Choiseul, appear dismayed at the unexpected turn of events.  Even before Quebec fell a senior official in the ministry of marine, the marquis de Capellis, had advised the abandonment of Canada when the time came to negotiate for peace, since to do so would lead to the ruin of Britain by bringing on the defection of her American colonies. With the acquisition of Canada, he argued, those colonies would soon surpass old England in wealth, and indubitably they would then throw off the yoke of the metropolis ...

As the war came to a close, and the duc de Choiseul prepared to negotiate a peace treaty with Britain, according to Eccles, he informed the French ambassador to Spain that he was going to "insist on the abandonment of Canada in order to drive a rift between England and her colonies."

The British were not unaware of the danger.  According to Eccles, in 1761 Lord Bedford, a British diplomat in Paris, had written home:

I don't know whether the neighbourhood of the French to our North American colonies was not the greatest security for their dependence on the mother country, which I feel will be slighted by them when their apprehension of the French is removed.

 But the Anglo Americans wanted Canada to be retained; they had fought hard for victory and they wanted their spoils. They put pressure on Britain and, in the end, Canada was not returned to France. 

The French clearly recognized at an early point that if they removed themselves from North America entirely, there might be adverse consequences to Britain as her own colonies became too independent.  As part of its own plan to rebuild itself and Spain, while at the same time doing what it could to weaken Britain, France decided to give up all of its colonies in North America.   Giving up Louisiana may, therefore, have had two purposes:  to strengthen the Family Compact with Spain and to remove France completely from the New World so that the Anglo Americans could focus exclusively on the issues they had with their mother country. 

Nineteen years later, in 1781, a combined army consisting of the Continental Army troops led by George Washington and French troops led by the Comte de Rochambeau, with aid from the rebuilt French fleet from the West Indies commanded by the Comte de Grasse, and troops from the Continental Army led by the Marquis de Lafayette,  defeated the British Army of General Cornwallis at Yorktown.  The French had achieved their goal; North America would not be British. 

Across the international boundary line that was the Mississippi River, the French residents of St. Louis living under Spanish rule cheered the victory.

250 Years Ago ... 11/23/1762 The Treaty of Fontainebleau

 *Part of my continuing blog series leading up to the 250^th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014.

On November 23, 1762, King Carlos of Spain finally got around to accepting the gift of Louisiana from France.    The Treaty of Fontainebleau made it official.

But shhhhhh.  Don't tell anyone.  It's still a secret from most of the world, including Louisiana.

Definite Act of Cession of Louisiana by the King of France to the King of Spain

Louis, by the grace of God, King of France and Navarre, to all to whom these presents shall come, greeting:  Whereas our very dear and well beloved cousin, the Duke de Choiseul, peer of our realm, knight of our orders and of the golden fleece, lieutenant-general of our armies, governor of Tourraine, colonel-general of the Swiss and Grisons, grandmaster and super-intendant general of the posts and relays of France, our minister and secretary of state for the departments of war and marine and the correspondence with the courts of Madrid and Lisbon, did sign, in our name, with the Marquis de Grimaldi, knight of our orders, gentleman of the chamber, in exercise of our very dear and well beloved brother and cousin, the Catholic king, and his ambassador extraordinary near us, a preliminary convention, whereby, in order to give our said brother and cousin a new testimonial of our tender friendship, of the strong interest which we take in satisfying him and promoting the welfare of his crown, and of our sincere desire to strengthen and render indissoluble the bonds which unite the French and Spanish nations, we ceded to him entire and perpetual possession of all the country known under the name of Louisiana, together with New-Orleans and the island in which that city stands, which convention had only been signed conditionally and sub sperati by the Marquis de Grimaldi: and whereas our said brother and cousin, the Catholic king, animated with the same sentiments toward us which we have evinced on this occasion, has agreed to the said cession, and ratified the conditional acceptation made by his said ambassador extraordinary, which convention and ratification are here inserted word for word, as follows:

Don Carlos, by the grace of God King of Castile, of Leon, of Arragon, of the two Sicilies, of Jerusalem, of Navarre, of Granada, of Toledo, of Valencia, of Gallicia, of Majorca, of Seville, of Sardinia, of Algesiras, of Gibralter, of the Canary Islands, of the East and West Indies, and the islands and main land of the ocean, Archduke of Austria, Duke of Burgundy, of Brabant and Milan, Count of Hapsburg, of Flanders, of Tyrol, and of Barcelona, lord of Biscay, and of Molina, etc.

Whereas, on the third day of the present month, the preliminaries of a peace, were signed between the crowns of Spain and France, on the one part, and those of England and Portugal on the other, and the most Christian king, my very dear and well beloved cousin, purely from the nobleness of his heart, and the love and friendship in which we live, thought proper to dispose that the Marquis de Grimaldi, my ambassador extraordinary near his royal person, and the Duke de Choiseul, his minister of state, should on the same day sign a convention by which the crown of France ceded immediately to that of Spain, the country known by the name of Louisiana, together with New-Orleans and the island in which that city stands, and by which, said ambassador agrees to the cession only conditionally sub sperati, as he is not furnished with orders to execute it absolutely; the tenor of which convention is the following:

The most Christian king being firmly resolved to strengthen and perpetuate the bonds of tender amity which unite him to his cousin, the Catholic king, proposes in consequence to act with his Catholic majesty at all times  and in all circumstances, in a perfect uniformity of principles, for the common glory of their house and the reciprocal interests of their kingdoms.

With this view, his most Christian majesty, being fully sensible of the sacrifices made by the Catholic king in generously uniting with him for the restoration of peace, desires, on this occasion, to give him a proof of the strong interest which he takes in satisfying him and affording advantages to his crown.

The most Christian king has accordingly authorized his minister, the Duke de Choiseul, to deliver up to the Marquis de Grimaldi, the ambassador of the Catholic king, in the most authentic form, an act whereby his most Christian majesty cedes in entire possession, purely and simply, without exception, to his Catholic majesty and his successors, in perpetuity, all the country known under the name Louisiana, as well as New-Orleans and the island in which that place stands.

But as the Marquis de Grimaldi is not informed with sufficient precision of the intentions of his Catholic majesty, he has thought proper only to accept the said cession conditionally, and sub sperati  until he receives the orders expected by him from the king, his master, which, if conformable with the desires of his most Christian majesty, as he hopes they will be, will be followed by the authentic act of cession of the said country; stipulating also the measures and the time, to be fixed by common accord, for the evacuation of Louisiana and New-Orleans, by the subjects of his most Christian majesty, and for the possession of the same by those of his Catholic majesty.

In testimony whereof, we, the respective ministers, have signed the present preliminary convention, and have affixed to it the seals of our arms.

Done at Fontainebleu, on the third of November, one thousand seven hundred and sixty two.

THE DUKE DE CHOUISEUL
THE MARQUIS DE GRIMALDI

Therefore in order to establish between the Spanish and French nations the spirit of union and friendship which should subsist as they do in the hearts of their sovereigns, I, therefore, take pleasure, in accepting, as I do accept, in proper form, the said act of cession, promising to accept those which hereafter may be judged necessary for carrying it into entire and formal execution, and authorizing the said Marquis de Grimaldi to treat, conclude and sign them.

In testimony whereof, I have ordered these presents to be drawn up, signed by my hand, sealed with my privy seal, and countersigned by my counselor of state and chief secretary of state and war.  Given at San Lorenzo et Real on the thirteenth of November, seventeen hundred and sixty-two.

I, the King

(countersigned) Ricardo Wall.

The said acceptance and ratification having been approved by us, and regarded as a strong evidence of the friendship and goodwill of our very dear and well-beloved cousin, the Catholic king, we renew and confirm by these presents, the cession of Louisiana and New-Orleans, with the island in which that city stands, promising immediately to conclude with our said brother and cousin a convention, in which the measures to be taken in concert for executing and consummating this session to our mutual satisfaction will be fixed by common accord. In faith whereof, we have caused these presents to be drawn up, which we have signed with our hands, and have affixed to them our secret seal.

Given at Versailles, on the twenty-third day of the month of November, in the year of grace one thousand seven hundred and sixty-two, and of our reign the forty-eighth.

Louis

(by the King)

Choiseul, Duke de Praslin

250 Years Ago ... November 3, 1762

 *Part of my continuing blog series leading up to the 250^th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014.

On November 3, 1762 the representative of Louis, the most Christian king, finally managed to convince the representative of Carlos, the most Catholic king, that they could work a deal to put Spain and France in a position to end the war with Britain.  The most Christian king, understanding completely the sacrifices that his dear relative, the most Catholic king, was going to make in giving up Florida to the British in order to get back Havana, was willing to do something really nice for him.

And, thus, the most Christian king betrayed his subjects then living in Louisiana.

Preliminary Convention between the Kings of France and Spain for the Session of Louisiana to the Latter

The most Christian king being firmly resolved to strengthen and perpetuate the bonds of tender amity which unite him to his cousin, the Catholic king, proposes in consequence to act with his Catholic majesty at all times and in all circumstances, in a perfect uniformity of principles, for the common glory of their house and the reciprocal interests of their kingdoms.

With this view, his most Christian majesty, being fully sensible of the sacrifices made by the Catholic king, in generously uniting with him for the restoration of peace, desires, on this occasion, to give him a proof of the strong interest which he takes in satisfying him and affording advantages to his crown.

The most Christian king has accordingly authorized his minister, the Duke de Choiseul, to deliver to the Marquius de Grimaldi, the ambassador of the Catholic king, in the most authentic form, an act, whereby his most Christian majesty cedes in entire possession, purely and simply, without exception, to his Catholic majesty and his successors, in perpetuity, all the country known as Louisiana, as well as New-Orleans and the island in which that place stands.

But as the Marquis de Grimaldi is not informed with sufficient precision of the intentions of his Catholic majesty, he has thought proper only to accept the said cession conditionally, and sub spe rati [under expectation that it will be ratified] until he receives the orders expected by him from the king, his master, which, if conformable with the desires of his most Christian majesty, as he hopes they will be, will be followed by the authentic act of cession of the said country; stipulating also the measures and the time, to be fixed by common accord, for the evacuation of Louisiana and New-Orleans, by the subjects of his most Christian majesty, and for the possession of the same by those of his Catholic majesty.

In testimony whereof, we, the respective ministers, have signed the present preliminary convention, and have affixed to it the seals of our arms.

Done at Fontainebleu, on the third of November, one thousand seven hundred and sixty two.

THE DUKE DE CHOUISEUL
THE MARQUIS DE GRIMALDI

(a true copy from the original)

THE DUKE DE CHOUISEUL

____________
Notes:

French, Benjamin Franklin. Historical Memoirs of Louisiana, from the first settlement of the colony to the departure of Governor O'Reilly in 1770 (1853, Lamport Blakeman and Law) ebook version

250 Years Ago ... Meanwhile, Back in France ...

 *Part of my continuing blog series leading up to the 250^th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014.
 
As October turned into November in 1762, France, Britain and Spain were almost ready to agree on preliminary articles of peace to bring the war to an end.

Britain had undoubtedly won the war and France and Spain had lost.  In North America Britain had taken Canada, St. Lucia and the valuable sugar islands of Martinique and Guadeloupe.  In India the British had taken Chandalore and Pondicherry and, in Africa, trading posts in Senegal, the island of Goree and on the Gambia.  In Europe the French army was defeated in its bid to defeat Prussia and the French navy was decimated.  A bankrupt France was ready to come to terms with a war-weary Britain.

Although Spain had managed to stay neutral through much of the war, it had eventually grown alarmed by Britain's conquests and entered the war in 1762 allied with its relative, France, against Britain.  In June Britain landed forces in Cuba and laid seige to Havana.  By August Havana belonged to Britain as well as all the Mexican bullion stored there.  Likewise, in July the British began the invasion of Manila and by October were in control.  Despite these losses, Spain was not yet ready to concede defeat.

Prior to Spain entering the war, Britain had been engaged in behind-the-scenes negotiations with France to end the war.  By late fall of 1762 the duc de Choiseul, France's principal negotiator, had worked out the outlines of a treaty that would be incredibly generous to France and, incredibly, would allow for a relatively quick post-war recovery of naval power.  France had every incentive to take these terms as quickly as possible before William Pitt, former prime minister and hawk, could negotiate a return to power in Britain.  Although France would be forced to give up Canada as well as its East Indies and African trading posts, it would keep its profitable sugar islands and Louisiana.

Spain was not pleased that France was ready to capitulate.

Havana was Spain's most important port in the Caribbean, the "Key to the New World".  Spain was not going to agree to give up Havana permanently.  On the other hand, Britain was not going to give up a prize as great as  Havana without gaining something.

As historian Fred Anderson sees it, the solution came through French diplomacy.   France needed to make a deal with Spain that would allow Spain to come to terms with Britain.

Choiseul's ingenious answer to this puzzle had three parts. France would give Spain its last remaining territory in North America, Louisiana; Spain would surrender Florida (that is, the territory from the Mississippi to Georgia) to Britain; Britain would return Havana to Spain. In this way Spain would lose its claim to a sparsely inhabited, commercially unprofitable coastal plain and recover the Key to the New World and its trade. As a reward for its cooperation Spain would gain title to the western half of North America, access to the continent's interior via the Mississippi River, and possession of the valuable port of New Orleans.  True, France would bid adieu to the rest of its North American holdings; but, as Choiseul understood, the colony of Louisiana had little population and no conceivable value to France if its destiny were to become a buffer between the demographically vital British colonies and the North American holdings of a disgruntled Spain. And Britain would gain undisputed control of the eastern half of North America -- a prize glittering enough to satisfy even the most rabid imperialists in the House of Commons.

In the early days of November, 1762, Britain was signaling that it was ready to make a deal.  France was working both sides behind the scenes.  Pens were poised to put the various parts of the deal on to paper.  It was just a matter of a little more time for French diplomacy to work.

_________
Notes:

Anderson, Fred.  Crucible of War: The Seven Years War and the Fate of Empire in British North America 1754-1766.

Fowler, William M.  Empires at War:  The French and Indian War and the Struggle for North America, 1754-1763

Taylor, Alan.  American Colonies: The Settling of North America.

250 Years Ago ... Introducing Pierre Laclede

 *Part of my continuing blog series leading up to the 250^th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014.

In 1762 the only news that was reaching New Orleans was bad news.  Canada had surrendered to Britain two years previously and since then Louisiana had been braced for an attack that never came. In September of 1762 the fishing fleet would have brought in the news that Havana had fallen to the British in August.  Havana was the most important Spanish harbor in the Spanish West Indies.  And although Louisiana would not know it for many months, by October of 1762 Britain had also taken Manila from Spain.  Britain now controlled the most important Spanish port in both the West Indies and the East Indies.  It looked as if Britain was on track to conquer the known world.

The Governor of Louisiana in 1762 was Louis Billouart, Chevalier de Kerlerec.  Appointed ten years earlier in 1752, Kerlerec had one of the most thankless jobs in the French Empire.  Although every Governor before him had dealt with seemingly insurmountable problems, within two years of his arrival in Louisiana war broke out with the English and Kerlerec's problems reached epic scale.  As historian Frederick Fausz has written:

Versailles considered [Louisiana] to be a financial sinkhole with few prospects for economic solvency or social stability.  France's neglect was symbolized by the failure to conduct a census for twenty-six years and the lack of responses to 162 urgent messages sent by Kerlerec in an 18-month period.  The Ministry of Marine only dispatched ships to Louisiana in even numbered years during the French and Indian War, so Kerlerec received a mere seven official dispatches from 1760 to 1762.

Lacking support from Versailles and expecting an attack any day, Kerlerec was forced to seek other means to finance the protection of the colony, working through the merchants of the City of New Orleans who had profited throughout the war from smuggling operations.  Kerlerec, like every Governor before him, knew that the viability of the colony depended on the goodwill of the Indian allies along the Mississippi and the Gulf coast.   The Indian culture required that expensive "gifts" be exchanged between allies.  In vain would every Governor of Louisiana write to Versailles pleading for the necessary goods to keep the Indians attached to the French.  When Versailles did not come through, and with war on his doorstep, Kerlerec turned to the merchants for assistance.

But Kerlerec was also thinking about the future.  He looked to trade as a way to put Louisiana on an independent footing after the war so that it would not be so dependent on convoys from France, which arrived late if they arrived at all.

The most prominent  merchant in New Orleans in the 1760's was Gilbert Antoine de St. Maxent (known simply as Maxent) who had made a fortune as a successful Indian trader.  Maxent seems to have been the type of successful businessman who, in modern corporate-speak, looked on problems as "challenges" and "opportunities".  Although it could not be known what would happen to Canada after the war, Kerlerec and Maxent chose to look on the fall of Canada as an "opportunity" for Louisiana and her merchants.  Until this time, the most lucrative part of the French fur trade had always flowed north, through Montreal.  Even the furs of the Illinois Country were mostly sent north.  But now, if France was to have a fur trade at all, it would need to flow south through New Orleans, at least temporarily while the war continued.  And if Britain kept Canada, the key to the entire trade would lay in Louisiana which encompassed a vast area both east and west of the Mississippi River, particularly along the Missouri River.

Kerlerec was fairly knowledgeable about trade along the Missouri River because his brother-in-law, Pierre-Joseph Neyon de Villiers, was the commander at Fort de Chartres in the Illinois Country (and, unlike today, "Illinois" in 1762 meant everything north of the Ohio and south of the Illinois River both east and west of the Mississippi).  Kerlerec knew that the Osage Indians were the principal power south of the Missouri River and further west.  The Osage visited Fort de Chartres; they had fought on the French side at Fort Duquesne in 1755.  But not enough attention had been paid to them so far.  The French had established two forts along the Missouri River in the 1700's, north of the principal lands of the Osage, but neither had been successful as trading enterprises.   Maxent and Kerlerec decided that they now had the "opportunity" to remedy that.

In 1762, Kerlerec took a bold step without asking for royal authority.  He granted a newly established enterprise called Maxent, Laclede et Compagnie the exclusive trade with all Indian nations lying west of the Mississippi River.  The grant would last for six years and would extend all the way to the source of the Mississippi in Minnesota, but the real goal was to develop trade along the Missouri River with the Osage.  Although in the past, the French crown had granted trade monopolies, the current policy in Louisiana was one of free trade. The grant of the monopoly was in violation of this policy but when Fort de Cavagnial on the Missouri had been established in 1744, a similar 6 month monopoly had been issued in violation of the policy, so there was precedent.  As the reason for granting this monopoly, Kerlerec said that only Maxent had the capital necessary to undertake and finance such an endeavor, which would bring great profit to the colony.

But who was the Laclede of Maxent, Laclede et Compagnie?

Pierre Laclede was born on November 22, 1729 in Bearn, France, the son of a lawyer, Pierre de Laclede Sr., and his wife Magdeleine D'Espoey D'Arance.   Pierre was one of seven children. Although he was from the landed class, there were merchants in his family background.

In accordance with his family's tradition, as the second son he added the word Liquest to his name.  Always signing his name "Laclede Liquest" he would confuse future non-French historians of St. Louis.  J. Frederick Fausz, in his Founding of St. Louis:  First City of the New West writes:

By family tradition, the second son appended the word Liguest to the surname, signifying his rights to revenues from the Lacledes' grove of willow trees (ligus or saligues in Bearnais) near the village of Athas, just south of [his village of] Bedous on the opposite side of the Gave d'Aspe.  Liguest was similar to the word cadet (second son) in identifying birth order in families, and all cadets in Bearn were "promised a portion [of property or money] in return for renouncing their rights' of inheritance, according to the principle of The House.

Laclede was well educated  He was a student for a time at the Jesuit college in Pau and then later at the military college in Toulouse.  In his twenties Pierre served with the "home guard".  Then, in 1755, he suddenly emigrated to Louisiana.  According to Fausz, he sailed on the ship La Concorde from the port of La Rochelle.

No one seems able to explain what caused Pierre Laclede to emigrate to Louisiana.  He was a second son and, hence, not in line to inherit.  He didn't seem interested in his father's profession of law.  It would not have been unusual for him to set out to make his way in the world. But Fausz points out that Laclede's decision was unusual as very few people from Bearn emigrated to North America and even fewer went to Louisiana.  Fausz speculates that Laclede might have been recruited to go to Louisiana by a New Orleans merchant firm. There is no evidence, though, that he knew Maxent before he arrived in Louisiana.

Laclede left home just at the start of the Seven Years War and when he arrived in Nouvelle Orleans he became a part of the local militia.  His regimental commander was Maxent.  Maxent was also born in France and was also very well educated.  Perhaps that was why they became friends.

By 1759 Laclede seems to have been acting as an independent merchant.  Perhaps, as a merchant, he left New Orleans and went on trading expeditions to the Indians.  If so, that part of his life seems to have escaped his biographers.  I have seen no one claim that Laclede had any direct Indian experience before his experience with the Osage in Missouri.

According to a United States Supreme Court Case, it has been alleged that, in 1760, Pierre Laclede and Pierre Songy had some kind of right to a piece of coastal property in present day Deer Island Mississippi.   (US v.Power's Heirs, 52 US 570 (1850))

Fausz, in his history of St. Louis, does a good job of looking into the kind of life Laclede would have lived in France and analyzing why that background would serve him so well in the newly founded St. Louis.  But neither he, nor any other historian I've read, can explain why Maxent would choose to partner with Laclede on this venture when there were certainly many men with years of experience in the Illinois Country, on both sides of the Mississippi, who would have been pleased to have had this opportunity.

In Maxent, Laclede et Compagnie,  Maxent would finance the expedition and provide the necessary trade goods and presents for the Indians; Laclede would be the man on the ground who would actually travel to Upper Louisiana and begin to trade in that part of the Illinois Country that lay west of the Mississippi.  Although the expedition would not be ready to leave New Orleans until the summer convoy left in August, 1763, Maxent would have started in 1762 to begin the process of procuring the necessary goods.  

I imagine Pierre Laclede, 250 years ago, was beginning to think about the long journey he was to take up the Mississippi with anticipation and maybe even a little dread.

250 Years Ago ... Introducing the Becquets of Nouvelle Chartres

*Part of my continuing blog series leading up to the 250^th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014.

This coming week we celebrate the birthday of my ancestor Jean Baptiste Becquet.  On October 25, 1725 he was was baptized in the little chapel at Fort de Chartres in what is now southern Illinois.  We don't know the exact date of his birth but in those days children were baptized within days of their birth if possible.  37 years later, in 1762, he was still living in Nouvelle Chartres with his wife and children, supporting his family by working as a blacksmith.

Jean Baptiste Beccquet was born in Nouvelle Chartres but his father, Jean Baptiste Nicolas Becquet, was an immigrant from Paris (the parish of St. Sulpice).  The son of a locksmith, Jean Baptiste Nicolas also become a locksmith.  His wife, Catherine Barreau (or Barreaux), was a seamstress from Poitou.  In 1720 they set off for Louisiana and the New World, traveling on the French ship La Gironde.  It would have been a long (and dangerous) voyage back in the days of sailing ships.

 La Gironde would have set sail from La Rochelle and first made for Cape St. Vincent, off the southern coast of Portugal. From there the captain would hope to pick up a wind that would take the ship south past Madeira and the Canary Islands. The ship would then continue southwest across the Atlantic until it reached the correct latitude for Saint Domingue, where it would head due west.  A stop in Saint Domingue would have been welcome as the passengers would, by now, have been on the small, 75 foot keel length ship for seven to nine weeks, and maybe longer depending on the weather.

After a stop in Saint Domingue,  La Gironde would sail due west past Cuba before heading northwest.  From this point forward the ship would be working against contrary winds and currents. After two to four weeks it would finally reach the sandy coast between Pensacola and Mobile.  Before the port of New Orleans was built, ships put in at islands along the coast.  During this period their ship would have put in at Ile aux Vasseaux (Ship Island, Mississippi).

Cargo and passengers would then be transferred to a smaller boat to be piloted the 160 kilometers up the Mississippi to New Orleans.  This portion of the trip could take an additional one to two weeks because the lower Mississippi delta was so difficult to pass through. Sometimes, if the winds dropped, a ship could be stalled for up to two weeks at the bend known as Detour aux Anglais (English Turn), forty kilometers before New Orleans.

But finally they would glimpse the relatively new settlement of Nouvelle Orleans -  New Orleans.  I’ll let Kenneth Banks describe an arrival:

Only at this point did passengers and crews glimpse the first signs of the French settlement:  two small and incomplete sets of earthworks on either side of the river and the first smattering of thatched slave huts and rough log cabins along the riverbanks. Important and weary passengers, as well as critical dispatches, could be put ashore at this point as well and proceed by horse or on foot to New Orleans.  Although some historians have calculated that it was theoretically possible to sail to New Orleans from France in about twelve weeks, contemporary ships’ logs show that the average crossing approached seventeen weeks, at least a month longer.

 


La Gironde arrived in August 1720 and we don't know how long the Becquets stayed in New Orleans waiting for a convoy to leave for the Illinois Country and the new Fort de Chartres. After the long ocean voyage, the Becquets must have been relieved to arrive back on dry land.


We don't know exactly why Jean Baptiste Nicolas Becquet and Catherine Barreau decided to travel to Louisiana. We don't know if they were recruited to specifically go to the Illinois Country or if that decision was made when they arrived in New Orleans. Since Becquet was a skilled craftsman he was probably recruited as part of a scheme that led to what became known as the Mississippi Bubble. A Scottish financier named John Law formed a company for the exploitation of Louisiana and was given the monopoly by the regent for Louis XV, who was still a minor. As part of the charter, the company was required to recruit settlers. The Becquets were probably recruited as part of this scheme. The scheme is too complicated to go into since it is only a peripheral part of our story, but at the end of this post I've appended a video that explains it.

In any event, the Becquets did not stay in New Orleans.  The most arduous part of their journey was still ahead of them – a trip up the Mississippi River that would take at least three, sometimes four, months. This trip up the Mississippi would have been entirely by water. As historian Kenneth Banks remarks, “roads are barely mentioned in official correspondence relating to Louisiana." But in the days before steam engines, the trip against the fast current of the Mississippi would have been laborious.  The boats would have been rowed, poled and winched (by tying ropes to trees upriver and pulling the boats to them) in a long slow journey north.

Historian Margaret Kimball Brown writes:

  

The trip was hazardous.  The river itself was treacherous enough with snags, sawyers, currents and mosquitoes (a major complaint) but the greatest danger along the route was from hostile Indians, particularly the Chickasaw, who were affiliated with the English.  Many accounts tell of death or capture by the Indians.

Because of danger from the Chickasaw, travelers from New Orleans to the Illinois Country always traveled in convoy.  But at last they arrived in the Illinois country where the new fort and administration was being established.  Jean Baptiste Nicolas Becquet's services as a locksmith would have been invaluable at the fort. Locksmiths were a specialized type of blacksmith; they not only made locks for doors and boxes but also could make weapons.

Historian Margaret Kimball Brown has often referenced Jean Baptiste Nicolas Becquet in her work on the Illinois Country.  She has even created two fictional letters from Becquet back to his family in France to give us a better idea of what a journey up the Mississippi must have been like in those days.   You can read them here (starting on page 3).

In her book about Praire du Rocher Brown writes:

[Becquet] was apparently quite skilled, as a major part of his work in the Illinois was as a gunsmith.  He was not just a specialist though.  He was able to turn his hand to all types of blacksmithing  Becquet made locks, keys, and other items, including the metal work for the early churck of Ste. Anne at Fort de Chartres.  In 1725 a soldier, Francois Derbes, contracted with Becquet as an engage to work at the forge for him.  In the contract Derbes also agreed that he would arrange to have his guard duty done at Fort de Chartres at his own expense.

The trade as a locksmith/ gunsmith was an important one.  Becquet held a contract in 1737 to repair and maintain the guns of the troops and those in the royal storehouse.  He also was to keep up the guns of the Indians, some of whom were hunters employed by the government.  Later he had a partnership with a gunsmith in Kaskaskia to carry out royal contracts in gunsmithing. 

As Brown points out, from documents still existing from the era, we know that he was literate.  And he was successful.  As she said, "if he came to improve his lot in the New World, he apparently succeeded."

As he and his wife, Catherine, baptized their son, Jean Baptiste Becquet, in October of 1725 they could not have known that within that son's lifetime the French Regime in Illinois would end but that he would be a part of the founding of the last great French settlement in North America, St. Louis.

PS:  If you are interested, this video is an entertaining and, from what I can tell, accurate summary of the Mississippi Bubble.

_________________________
NOTES and SOURCES:

Banks, Kennth J.,  Chasing Empire Across the Sea: Communications and the State in the French Atlantic 1613-1673, pp 84-96.

Belting, Natalia Maree, Kaskaskia Under the French Regime.

Brown, Margaret Kimball, History as they Lived It: A Social History of Prairie du Rocher, Ill.