The spirit of enterprise and daring which sent Columbus across the pathless ocean, burned still brighter throughout Europe in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and extended to every grade of society. The descriptions of the New World, with its many lakes, mighty rivers, and vast resources, had inflamed still more the public mind, and caused thousands to seek the deep forests of America, in pursuit of wealth and glory. But of all the daring adventurers the Atlantic had wafted to the shores of the western world, none were more eminently fitted for a bold pioneer than Robert Cavalier, known in history as La Salle.

Born at Rouen, of respectable parents, he was placed in a seminary of the Jesuits, and educated for the church.

But his restless spirit longed for fields of greater action and his soul yearned for stirring scenes of toil and conflict, where fame and glory might be won. Prompted by such motives, he cast aside his books, and left with joy the shores of Normandy for a home in the lonely wilds of America. History has at length recorded his noble enterprises and the many trials of his forest life, and justly ranks his name among the first of great discoverers. One of the noblest and boldest of his schemes was the exploration of the Mississippi, whose fame at that time had spread throughout Europe. With a few brave spirits he launched out on the "Father of Waters," and was borne down by its rushing tide over rapid and cataract, though a wilderness in whose forests echoed the war-whoop and the wild songs of the savage. Possessed of a lofty spirit, which triumphed over difficulties, he pursued his cause, and was rewarded for his toil by discovering, on the 7th of April, 1682, the mouths of the Mississippi; and was the first civilized man who watched with rapture its waves, mingling with the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Having taken possession of the vast country he had discovered in the name of the King of France, he sent a dispatch to the French Court with tidings of his discovery, which created great excitement throughout the old world. The designs of the expedition having been fully accomplished, the party ascended the river. La Salle, after many adventures, retraced his steps to Canada, and in the autumn of 1683 set sail for France.

With his heart filled with noble aims and high resolves, he went to lay before the Ministry his plans for colonizing the beautiful country he had discovered, and to petition that he might lead the emigrants to their new homes. His zeal and eloquence crowned him with success; and a fleet of four vessels was fitted out, with men, arms, ammunition, provisions and merchandize, for the expedition. All things being ready, the fleet sailed out of Rochelle on the 24th of July, 1684, with upwards of three hundred on board, consisting of soldiers, missionaries, volunteers and women.

At first, as they glided over the waves of the ocean, all was joyous anticipation; but soon the bright scene was clouded, and a feeling of discontent manifested itself among both officers and crew. Between La Salle and Beaujeu, the commander of the squadron, there was a want of confidence and good feeling, and it soon became evident that the crew, with the exception of the missionaries and volunteers, were a band of outcasts, destitute of principle and utterly regardless of the duties resting upon them. Day after day the good ships bounded slowly over the waves towards the West, bearing with them beings whose hearts were filled alternately with hopes, joys and sorrows. Having been detained-by sickness and separated by a storm, they did not enter the Gulf until the 12th of December. Their being deceived in the course of the Gulf stream, and La Salle having previously made the fatal mistake of two degrees in determining the latitude of the mouth of the Mississippi, they were led to believe they were several hundred miles east of it, and steering steadily westward, they passed its mouth unnoticed, thus causing the defeat of the whole enterprise. Still under the delusion, they sailed on and landed east of the Sabine on the 1st of January, 1685; but not being able to make any new discoveries here or determine their true position, they proceeded still farther westward, and entered Matagorda Bay on the 18th February, and were the first Europeans who ever set foot on Texas soil, or gazed with wonder and admiration on her vast prairies, fair skies and lovely waters. After a short time, they detected their error, and determined on again sailing east, in search of their first destination; but fate had decreed that the name of La Salle should be inseparably connected with the beautiful land he had discovered, consequently his plans for return were frustrated. Beaujeu, whose hostility towards La Salle had increased with time, seized this opportunity for revenge, and would listen to no plans proposed by La Salle. Thus all communication being broken off between them, the voyage was abandoned. Beaujeu prepared to return to France, which he did on the 12th of March, carrying with him the captain and crew of the Aimable; and at last proved himself a traitor to the colony, by taking with him all of the cannon balls, so necessary in their defenceless condition. After Beaujeu's departure, La Salle was left with but a single vessel, one having been captured by the Spaniards on the voyage out, and the Aimable, another, having been wrecked on entering the bay. But La Salle was not cast down, his spirit rose triumphant above his troubles, and his cheerful words gave encouragement to his desponding followers, who were disheartened by the failure to find the mouth of the Mississippi and by the sad fate of Ory and Desloges, two of their companions, who were murdered by the Indians, theirs being the first European blood shed on Texas soil. A camp having been formed on the west side of the bay, the colonists built a temporary fort out of the wreck of the Aimable, as a protection against the Indians. And there for a while they forgot their sorrows amid the beauties of nature that surrounded them, and sometimes felt a home love for the beautiful land in which they dwelt, as they chased the wild deer, angled for the bright fish, or watched with joy the rapid growth of their grain fields beneath its genial clime. La Salle, who was still buoyed up with the hope that Matagorda Bay was one of the Western mouths of the Mississippi, took with him sixty of his men and set out on a tour of observation. Having sailed around the west end of the bay and passed the Aransas, they discovered a river, which La Salle called Les Vaches, on account of the many buffalo that roamed along its banks. Sailing up the river some six miles, La Salle was so charmed with its scenery that he determined to form a settlement upon its banks. Having selected a beautiful spot for his new encampment, near the western side of the river, on an elevation which commanded a view of the vast plains that stretched far away to the west and north, and of the bright waters of the bay towards the south, he sent an order for the colonists to join him, which they did immediately, a few being left to guard the crops, which they had planted. And there on the river which now bears the beautiful Spanish name La Vaca, La Salle planted the first colony in Texas.

After much toil and trouble a fort was erected, which they named St. Louis. There in that rude and humble home of the colonists, scenes of joy and sorrow, love and care, daily transpired; there morn and night the holy beads were told, and prayers sent up to Heaven; there bright eyes were closed in death and new graves made in the tall grass; while sometimes was heard the gay songs of the Frenchmen, as they bounded over the waters in their light canoe. Some there loved the wild sports of their new home, and admired its glad sunshine and starry nights, while others pined for the old homesteads in their native land, and for the far off chime of its village bells. There, once, the monotonous life of the emigrants was broken by preparations for a wedding, and within the walls of their forest home was celebrated the first civilized marriage on Texas soil. After the colony was secure from the molestations of the Indians, La Salle, whose soul still thirsted for new discoveries, set out, about the last of October, to explore the country, taking with him his last vessel and about twenty men. This tour proved most disastrous to the colony. He lost his vessel and had five of his men murdered by the Indians, and after wandering as far as the Colorado, returned to the fort in the spring, to cast a deeper gloom over the colony by reporting the loss of the vessel. It was then hope died within each heart, and the country, which lay like a picture of beauty before them, ceased to charm them, while the longings for the far off homes drowned the music of nature. When the last hope the colony had clung to had vanished, then the valor and courage of La Salle rose above the gloom that surrounded him. No perils, no trials, seemed great enough to subdue his heroism or crush his hopes. Calmly and resolutely he looked into the future, and matured his plans for action. Being satisfied that they were far beyond the Mississippi, he knew there remained but one resource for the colony to obtain aid, and that was to cross the vast country to the settlements in Illinois, and from there send messengers to France for assistance. La Salle resolved to go, and after placing the fort in command of Jontel, the historian, he departed on his perilous journey, at the head of twenty men. Their course lay across the Colorado, Brazos and Trinity rivers, and with untiring energy and heroic endurance, they crossed over swamp and plain, and extended their journey as far as the head-waters of the Sabine. There, worn out with fatigue, and exhausted by sickness, with a thousand of weary miles still before them, the mournful resolution was taken to return to the fort, which they reached on the 17th of October, having only eight men left. Since landing on Matagorda Bay, the colony had been sadly reduced, and of nearly two hundred only forty remained. La Salle determined again to seek aid for this sad remnant or perish in the attempt. The preparations for his journey being completed, he left twenty persons in the fort, and after bidding them an affectionate farewell, he departed with twenty men. They had traveled nearly two months in the forest, when three of the company proved traitors, and formed a conspiracy against La Salle and his most intimate friends. Envious and jealous of the authority of others, they determined to possess it themselves, even at the cost of human life. Their scheme was well planned, and proved fatal to the victims. La Salle sent out a party to obtain provisions; this was a favorable opportunity for the desperadoes; they succeeded in their fiendish plot, and murdered in cold blood several of La Salle's warmest friends. Fearing the just wrath and vengeance of La Salle, they determined to kill him also. La Salle, who had remained at the camp, growing auxious at the long delay of the party, oppressed with evil foreboding, went in search of them. On coming up to the place where the dead bodies of his friends were lying, Duhaut, one of the conspirators, concealed himself in the tall grass and shot him through the head.

Thus ended the eventful life of Robert Cavalier de la Salle on the 20th day of March, 1687. He fell by the hands of his own men for whose welfare he had toiled and striven for years. His dying groans were breathed out on the beautiful prairies of Texas, and he found a grave in the land he had discovered. Near the banks of the Neches, Father Anastasie laid him to rest, and with love and reverence planted the cross above his grave. Sad and mournful as was the destiny of La Salle, not less tragic was the fate of his little colony. The Indians hearing of his death attacked the fort and took it, and put to death a portion of its inmates, and carried the remainder into captivity. Thus ended the first attempt to plant a colony in Texas, and out of the whole number who landed on its shores, only five ever lived to return to their native land.

E.P.T.