 | MICHEL DE COUCY, A TALE OF FORT
CHARTRES. Legends of the West |  |
MICHEL DE COUCY, A TALE OF FORT
CHARTRES.
On a pleasant day in September 1750, two horsemen
were seen slowly winding their way along the
road leading by the margin of the Mississippi river,
from the French village of Notre Dame de Kaskaskia,
to Fort Chartres. One of them, who appeared
to be about forty years of age, was a man of
gay and martial appearance. He wore an elegant
military undress, and rode gracefully on a fine and
high mettled horse. He was the commandant of
Fort Chartres, and in virtue of that office, governor
of the French settlements in Illinois, which he ruled
with a power little less than despotic, but with a
mildness that savoured more of parental than of
sovereign authority. His companion was the superior
of the convent of Jesuits at Kaskaskia, of whose
personal appearance we have no accurate account;
but we suppose that he was a tall, lank, homely man,
with a cunning, mysterious, austere look, such as
monks and superiors of convents usually wear on
public occasions; and who, while he ruled his own
little community with a high hand, acquired considerable
his deferential deportment towards the commander
of his majesty's forces. The riders were followed
by a small train, which seemed to be paraded rather
for show than for protection, consisting of half a
dozen gaudily dressed hussars, mounted on the small
fiery horses of the country, which having run wild
in their early years, retained ever after their original
impatience of restraint.
Their way led through that beautiful plain which
is now called the American bottom, an extensive
tract of rich, flat, alluvial soil, which lies along the
eastern shore of the Mississippi, in Illinois, and
reaches from the river to the bluffs, and which is
justly regarded as containing the greatest body of
fertile land in this country, or perhaps in the universe.
Part of this plain is covered with timber,
the remainder is open prairie, and the whole interspersed
with groves of vine and native fruit. Here
are to be seen the indigenous productions of this
climate, in the greatest variety and highest perfection.
The tallest cotton wood and sycamore trees,
which rear their enormous shafts to an amazing
height, are covered with vines equally aspiring;
while the thickets are matted together with smaller
vines, and loaded with innumerable clusters of fine
grapes. Our travellers beheld groves of the wild
apple, whose blossoms in the spring season fill the
air of this region with a delightful fragrance, and
whose limbs were now bending under loads of useless
fruit. They saw hundreds of acres covered
deepening in colour from a light yellow to
a deep crimson; and the ripe fruit of which now
hung in amazing quantities, and in appearance rich
and beautiful beyond description. The walnut, the
peccan, and other fine nuts, abounded; the whole
combining with the remarkable beauty of the autumn
sky in this country, and the serenity and mildness
of the atmosphere, to fill the mind with ideas
of luxury and plenty.
The plain, which at some places spreads out to
the breadth of twelve miles, was confined to a narrow
strip, at the point now travelled by the riders whom
we have described; and their path, which sometimes
approached the river, at others wound along the
foot of the bluffs, a ridge of abrupt hills, rising perpendicularly
to the height of more than a hundred
feet, and supposed to have been anciently washed
by the Mississippi. Advancing into the Prairie
de Rocher, they beheld an open plain, bounded on
one side by the river, and on the other by a tall
barrier of solid rock, whose summit projects over
its base, and whose highest points, which are beautifully
rounded, are covered with rich soil and prairie
grass, and here and there ornamented with a single
tree. At the foot of this rock, and extending thence
to the river, was a large village, called, in reference
to its situation, the village of Prairie de Rocher.
Adjoining this was a large enclosure called the
“Common Field,” which was held in severalty by
the inhabitants, each of whom owned a greater or
the whole of which was surrounded by a common
fence, without partitions. Each person cultivated
his own part, and had a right to pasturage at proper
seasons, in proportion to the quantity of his land;
and the whole business of fencing, tilling, and pasturing,
was regulated by village ordinances, and
conducted with a harmony which is not known to
have existed in any other community similarly situated.
Lots in the “Common Field,” were held
by purchase, or grant, from the French crown; the
rest of the ground in and around the village, was
held by the inhabitants in common, and portions of it
were reduced to private property by a simple procedure:
when a young man married, or a person wished
to settle in the village, an instrument of writing
was drawn and signed by all the inhabitants, vesting
in him the fee simple of a lot for building, and equal
rights with the others in their common property.
But we detain the reader too long from the gay and
gentle company who were about to honour the rustic
villagers with their august presence.
They had passed the Common Field, now covered
with a ripening crop of Indian corn, and were
entering the village, when their attention was
attracted by a crowd of persons, assembled in
front of the cottage of Michel de Coucy. Honest
Michel himself, who, when at home, usually sat
under a spreading catalpa, before his own door,
with a red cap on his head, and a short black pipe
in his mouth, the very emblem of content and
concourse, weeping, raving, and threatening, with
the most vehement gestures. He was a small, thin,
dark man, with black hair, and an eye that he
might have been suspected of inheriting from the
aborigines, had not his character been so genuinely
French, as fully to redeem the purity of descent.
He was as honest, as gay, and as contented a soul as
ever breathed; famed for the simplicity and benevolence
of his character, as well as for a vein of humour,
which rendered him at all times an agreeable
companion. In fact, to smoke his pipe, to do kind
actions, and to tell pleasant tales and sly jests,
seemed to be the business of his life, his other occupations
being of secondary importance. Born in
the wilds of Canada, and reared in the woods and
upon the water, he was equally at home, whether
paddling his canoe to the sources of our largest
rivers, or wandering alone through the trackless
forest. After his emigration to the borders of the
Mississippi, his chief occupation became that of a
boatman, and none pulled a better oar, or sung with
truer cadence the animating notes of the boat song,
than Michel de Coucy. The Canadian boatmen are
the hardiest and merriest of men; if their boat
is stranded, they plunge into the water, in all
weathers, diving and swimming about as if in their
native element; if it storms, they sleep or revel,
under the protection of a high bank; and when
pulling down the stream, or pushing laboriously
against it, the shores ring with their voices. One
the Indian yell, the roar of the alligator, the hissing
of the snake, or the chattering of the paroquet; and
anon the whole will chant their rude ditties concerning
the dangers of rapids, snags, and sawyers,
or the pleasures of home, the vintage, and the
dance. Michel was an adept at all these things,
and he loved them, as a Cossack loves plunder, or
a Dutchman hard work and money. He was the
darling of the crew; for he could skin a deer, cook
a fish, scrape a chin or a fiddle, with equal adroitness;
and always performed such offices so good humouredly,
that his companions, in compliment to his universal
genius, kept it in continual employment.
When the boat was in motion he was always tugging
at the oar, or the fiddle-bow; when it landed,
and the crew sat round their camp fire, he cooked,
sung, and told merry stories; on Sunday he shaved
the whole company, even at the risk of neglecting
his own visage, and was after all the merriest and
most respectable man in the boat. With all this,
Michel was temperate, and careful of his earnings,
which he shrewdly husbanded in a leathern purse
during every voyage, and handed over, on his return,
to his wife, who hid them under the floor of
their cabin. Such talents could not fail to bring
honour and promotion to their possessor; Michel
became popular among his comrades, and having
acquired experience in his craft, in a few years rose
to the charge of a boat, and the title of captain.
Having acquired a decent competency, by the
thought it expedient, and his wife thought so too,
that he should consult his own comfort for the rest
of his days. He therefore abandoned his frail
cabin, which in truth was beginning to tumble about
his ears, and built a goodly house, with substantial
mud walls, surrounded on all sides by cool piazzas,
and planted his yard full of catalpas and black
locusts. He purchased a large lot in the common
field, and took unto himself herds of black cattle,
and droves of French ponies.
Michel, however, still loved the water, and like
a sprightly spaniel, could be induced to leap into it
upon the slightest invitation. He continued to
make a voyage of three or four months annually,
and spent the remainder of his time in cultivating
his crop, smoking his pipe, attending the kingballs,
and playing the fiddle. He had his crosses
like other men: his chimney often smoked, and
Madam Felicite his wife, sometimes got out of
temper; his cattle occasionally had the murrain, the
frost nipped his corn, and more than once he lost
both boat and cargo by running on the snags and
sawyers of the Mississippi. But none of these
things ever disturbed the placid spirit of Michel; a
single shrug, and a “Sacre!” were the strongest
symptoms of emotion which ever were elicited
from him by such disasters, and he would most
frequently smile, and exclaim in the moment of
misfortune, “C'est toute le meme chose.” It is
said that he could even bear the breaking of a fiddle
from the priest for not going to confession,
with the same composure which he preserved on
less provoking occasions. He had his joys, too, and
these greatly predominated. His wife was an excellent
manager, made charming gumbo soup, and
could interpret dreams; his daughter Genevieve,
was as fair as the swans that sailed on the Mississippi;
and his neighbours loved him. He was
head man at the balls; for as they had no hireling
fiddlers in those days, the honourable office of
musician was filled in turn by such heads of families
as were blessed with musical ears and limber elbows;
and none touched the violin so cleverly as Michel,
who continually cheered the dancers with his voice,
as he kept time with head and feet. Happy days
of equality and glee! when every man who owned
a cabin, a car, and a pony, was a French gentleman,
when the evening gun of the fort, and the
matin bell of the chapel, were daily heard; and the
song and dance prevailed, wherever a plank floor, a
French girl, and a fiddle could be paraded!
Such being the character and standing of worthy
Michel de Coucy, it is not surprising that the whole
village of Prairie de Rocher should have been
astonished at beholding him in the attitudes of rage
and grief, swearing and wailing, and beating the air
with his clenched fists; nor that even such august
personages, as the commandant of Fort Chartres,
and the superior of the Jesuits at Notre Dame de
Kaskaskia, should marvel thereat. Nor was
viewed by his neighbours; he had as large a house,
as much land, and as many horned brutes and
ponies, as the best of them; and a man in easy circumstances
is always sure of sympathy when in
trouble. Michel, moreover, was popular; and
when the voice of distress issued from his cottage,
every one ran to condole with him; even the commandant,
and the superior of the Jesuits felt it incumbent
on them to rein up their steeds, and inquire
the cause of this usual disturbance.
It seems, that Michel having been many years
employed as a carrier of merchandise for others,
began at last to think that he might as well freight
his boat upon his own account; and had for the last
two or three years dabbled pretty extensively in the
ticklish business of buying and selling. The long
cherished hoard of Spanish dollars, which his wife
had buried under the cabin floor, had been transferred,
when he removed to his new house, to a
similar place of deposit, a plank having been left
unfastened for that express purpose. But when he
embarked in traffic, those silver coins were exchanged
for furs, the furs for goods, wares and
merchandise, and the latter for notes of hand and
fair promises. Still Michel and his wife were content;
for the nominal sum secured by fair words
and due-bills, trebled the actual amount that had
been disbursed in hard money, and they doubted
not that it would all come in, in due time. But in
the mean while he had entered into some pecuniary
cash, and found himself in an embarrassing situation.
He had never before owed money, and had
now to face a creditor for the first time! In this
dilemma, being unwilling to publish his situation to
his own neighbours, he bethought himself of a
certain Pedro Garcia, a Spaniard, who lived on the
opposite side of the river, where the Spanish
government at that time had jurisdiction. This
Pedro was a black whiskered, ill-looking fellow,
who had amassed a large fortune, nobody knew
how. He had a farm, and a good many slaves; he
traded with the Indians, who hated him, and went
often to New Orleans, where he lost and won large
sums by gambling, and was more than once in the
hands of the police. Nobody liked Pedro; the
French had little to say to him, and the Indians
looked with distrust at the long dirk which he
carried rather ostentatiously in his bosom. But
Michel wanted money, and Pedro had it, and without
more ado, the distressed Frenchman applied to
the Spaniard for a loan. Pedro, who knew that
Michel was abundantly able to repay him, and saw
that he was only hard pressed at the moment, in consequence
of his reluctance to call upon those who
owed him, readily advanced the sum required,
taking Michel's bond for the amount, payable at the
end of six months, with usury.
The six months soon rolled round, and Michel was
not prepared to pay his bond. He had waited from
day to day, in the vain hope that his debtors would
did not come forward voluntarily, he deferred from
hour to hour the disagreeable task of dunning them,
because it was so abhorrent to his feelings, that he
could not muster sufficient resolution to undertake
it. The day of payment came, and with it came
Pedro Garcia, and Michel was constrained to
acknowledge that he could not fulfil his engagement.
Garcia knit his black brows, and swore like a
trooper, and although his debtor spoke fairly and
humbly, and made liberal propositions, the relentless
creditor, would take nothing but his money,
and forthwith hied to the civil magistrate of the
village. The minister of the law heard the application
with surprise, and expressed in emphatic
language his astonishment that a subject of Spain
should think of suing a subject of the Grand Monarque,
within the territory of France, and above all
that he should have the assurance to propose to
employ an officer of the French crown, in so flagrant
an act of contumacy. “The laws of France,”
said this worthy functionary, “are made for the
benefit of the French people, and the honour of
their king, and not for Spaniards, and my duty is
to administer those laws to my fellow subjects, not
to foreigners. Go, you are not under my jurisdiction—I
know nothing of you,—and am only in
doubt whether your attempt to employ the laws of
my country against a Frenchman, is not a high
misdemeanour.”
Pedro, finding that he could obtain no satisfaction
military, and as the commandant was absent, laid the
matter before his lieutenant. This gentleman called
to his assistance the chaplain, a very worthy priest,
who having been long attached to the army, was
experienced in questions of meum and tuum, and
being thus fortified, proceeded to hear the complaint,
and examine the papers of Pedro Garcia.
“Ma foi! what is this?” exclaimed Captain De
la Val, as he glanced his eye over the unlucky
instrument of writing, laid before him by the
Spaniard.
“It is Michel de Coucy's bond, for the sum I
loaned him,” replied the plaintiff.
“Diable! how shall I know this to be a bond,
seeing that it is written in an unknown tongue?”
“It is Spanish, a language which your excellency
no doubt speaks, with the elegance and propriety of
a native Castilian.”
“You do my excellency unmerited honour, and
must permit me to inform you, that officially I am
not to be presumed to know any other language but
my own.”
“The purport of the instrument,” said Garcia,
“may readily be ascertained by means of an interpreter.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed the officer, “and can you
not also provide a deputy commanding officer, to
perform the rest of my duty? If I must read your
papers by proxy, I may as well decide in the same
way.”
“Captain De la Val,” said the priest, “takes a
very proper and nice distinction. The first step in
the adjustment of a controversy, is to ascertain the
true intent and meaning of the contract between the
parties litigant, and it would ill become the dignity
of any high tribunal, to entrust the decision of that
important point to an irresponsible agent.”
“What shall I do?” inquired the alarmed money
lender.
“That I cannot tell,” replied the officer; “of this,
however, I am clear, that a paper written in
Spanish can be of no validity in a French court, for
there would be an obvious absurdity in requiring
the ministers of justice, whether civil or military, to
decide on that which they cannot read.”
“Besides,” said the priest, who began to envy
the wisdom of the captain, “his most Christian
Majesty has appointed notaries, whose business it
is to draw such writings between parties, and as this
paper was not drawn by a proper notarial scribe,
we cannot know whether it is in due form of law.”
“What matters it about form,” said the Spaniard,
“if the writing contain a substantial promise?”
“My son,” replied the chaplain, “you do not
understand these matters. If a man makes a verbal
engagement, the form thereof is not material, because
in that case the creditor trusts to the honour
and honesty of the debtor, and the latter is bound
in conscience not to abuse that confidence; but if the
parties reduce their contract to writing, the creditor
reposes his trust, not in the virtue of the other
if the work of the law is not made secure, the creditor
must lose thereby, for he looked to that only for his
payment.”
“My bond is sufficient in law,” contended Pedro,
“it was attested before a Spanish notary.”
“Worse and worse,” exclaimed the priest; “if
his excellency, the commanding officer, should undertake
to decide upon the validity of a writing
authenticated by a Spanish functionary, it would
doubtless be considered by his most Catholic Majesty,
as a very indelicate interference, inasmuch as
he would be enforced not only to weigh the language
and construe the laws of Spain, but to look
into the acts of a civil magistrate of that nation; and
the consequence might be a war between two Christian
princes.”
Pedro Garcia, though he could not comprehend
how the settling of a dispute between himself and
Michel de Coucy, could become the cause of war
between two European kings, began to think that
possibly he had mistaken his remedy, and making
a sulky bow, was about to retire, when Captain De
la Val called him back, and said,
“Senor Garcia, it is well known that Michel is
no scholar, how then could he execute that bond?”
“He has made his mark,” replied the other,
showing the cross at the foot of the bond.
“Aha! but that same cross might stand with equal
propriety for the name of any Catholic in Christendom.”
“But I can prove by the notary, that Michel
made it.”
“Like enough, but Michel does not understand
Spanish, how then could he know the contents of
that paper?”
“It was interpreted to him.”
“But how can I know that it was interpreted
correctly? In short,” continued the officer, “I am
induced to believe that this document is a forgery,
and that it is my duty to lodge you in the guard
chamber, until the return of the commandant.”
“And if it be a forgery,” added the priest,
“there is little doubt in my mind, that the counterfeiting
the sign of the cross, is an offence against
our holy church, and of much higher grade than a
common forgery.”
Pedro finding that the aspect of his case grew
darker every moment, and fearing that he might be,
in the end, handed over to the inquisition, began
to supplicate for mercy, and being permitted to retire,
hastily made good his retreat, marvelling at
the strange turn in his affairs, which, from a simple
creditor of Michel de Coucy, had converted him
into an enemy of his Holiness the Pope, and his
most Christian Majesty, the king of France.
Michel, who, when he saw Pedro take the road to
Fort Chartres, had suspected his business, and hastily
followed him, entered the quarters of Captain
De la Val, during the conference above described;
and standing respectfully with his cap in his right
wide open, listened in mute admiration of the wisdom
and nice sense of justice displayed by the priest
and officer. As Pedro retired, he slipped after him,
and tapping him on the shoulder as he passed out of
the main gate, said triumphantly, “Bon jour,
Senor Garcia! your bond is too small, it will not cover
the sore place! it is not worth a sous! Now
come to my house when you get in a good humour,
and I will make a new bargain, to pay you all I
owe, and give you the word of honour of a French
gentleman, which Father Felix says is better than
a Spanish bond.” Pedro paused a moment, and
laid his hand on his dirk—then turned on his heel,
and retired, without deigning to reply.
When he reached home, he was half inclined to
turn back, and embrace Michel's offer, but still believing
that a bond, good or bad, was better than
any parol engagement, he hastened to his friend
the notary, and having informed him of all that had
passed, requested him, when Michel should next
cross into the Spanish territory, to have him arrested
for his debt. To his surprise, the notary declined
interfering in the business, highly extolling the good
sense and courtesy displayed by the French functionaries,
and declaring that he knew no law under
which a Spaniard could sue a Frenchman, and that
at all events, it was extremely proper and decorous,
that the officers of Spain and France, respectively,
should abstain from meddling in matters of such
high import, which ought to be left to ministers
“Then the long and short of the matter is,” said
Pedro, as he retired, “that I am to be cheated out of
my money,” and he forth with prayed to all the saints
of whom he had any knowledge, to visit with special
malefactions, the heads of Michel de Coucy,
Chevalier Jean Philippe De la Val, Father Felix the
priest, and all others directly or indirectly concerned
in preventing him from recovering the
amount nominated in his bond, with interest
thereon, at the rate of ten per cent per annum until
paid.
People who live on the frontier imbibe very accurate
notions of justice, and adopt summary modes
of obtaining it; and Senor Pedro Garcia, not being
a man to sit down quietly under a loss, and finding
the door of the law closed against him, began to
cast about for some other remedy. After brooding
over the matter for several days, he at length devised
a plan; and getting into his canoe in the night,
paddled secretly over to the Illinois shore, where
he remained concealed in a thicket, until Genevieve,
the daughter of Michel, passing that way alone, he
sallied out, and making her his prisoner, carried her
to the Spanish territory, leaving a placard in these
words, “Meshell Coosy! French rascal! pay me my
money, and you shall have your daughter!” Genevieve
was a beautiful child, of twelve years of
age, the pride of the village, and the darling of her
parents. She had seen Pedro before, and always
rudely seized by him, sued piteously for mercy, believing
that he would sell her to the Sioux, the English,
or the Long Knives, “of whom by parcels she
had something heard,”—or to some other outlandish
people, to be eaten at a great war feast. Pedro,
without regarding her cries, bore her to a secluded
place, among the broken hills, and summoning a
score of his associates and dependents, prepared to
make a stout resistance is case of pursuit.
When Michel discovered the outrage committed
against him, in the person of his child, on whom
he doated, he was inconsolable; not only were his
parental feelings awakened, but his sense of honour
was touched to the quick. He wept, raved, swore
strange oaths, and vowed bitter vengeance. All
who were acquainted with him, knew that, gentle as
he was, he was brave; he had been accustomed to
face danger from his childhood; and when they
heard the deep imprecations which he now poured
forth, they were satisfied that Pedro would pay
dearly for the cruel insult he had perpetrated. The
whole male population of the village immediately
volunteered to accompany him to the rescue; and
the distressed father, after thanking them with tears
of gratitude, urged them to arm themselves without
delay. It was at this juncture that the commandant,
and the superior of the Jesuits, opportunely
arrived, and having heard all the circumstances,
Michel was enjoined to proceed no further in his
plan of revenge, the commandant promising to take
daughter.
Michel, who believed that in wisdom, power, and
goodness, the commandant was second only to the
king, was greatly composed by this assurance, and
although his fellow villagers continued to be ripe
for an immediate inroad into the Spanish territory,
he restrained their ardour, and passed the night in
more tranquillity than could have been expected.
Early on the following morning he received a
summons to attend the commandant at Fort Chartres,
which was distant two miles from the village;
and set out, with Madame Felicité, in one of those
commodious vehicles, half chaise, and half cart,
which were fashionable among the Canadian French
of those days, and are still to be seen in daily use,
among their descendants, at the famous village of
Vuide Poche, otherwise called Carondelet, in Missouri.
Fort Chartres was at this time the largest and
most extensive fortification owned by the French in
America, and was the seat of government for all
their settlements in Illinois. Its shape was an irregular
quadrangle, with bastions at the angles, the
sides of the exterior polygon being four hundred and
ninety feet in extent; and the walls, which were too
feet and two inches thick, and twelve feet high,
were built of stone, and plastered over. It was
pierced all round, at regular distances, with loop
holes for musketry, and had two port holes for cannon
in each face, and two in the flanks of each bastion.
to know the exact description of this celebrated
fortress, should be desirous to ascertain what is
meant, by “an irregular quadrangle with bastions
at the angles,” I am happy to inform them that they
may obtain an exact idea of the figure intended to
be described, by laying on the table before them, an
old fashioned square pincushion, of which one side
is a little longer than either of the other three, with
large tassels at the corners. Such was precisely
the shape of Fort Chartres. Within the walls were
extensive buildings of stone, for the accommodation
of the garrison;—a fine house for the commandant,
quarters for the officers, and barracks for the soldiers,
together with a great magazine, a chapel, and
a snug cell for the priest, who officiated here and at
the village of Fort Chartres, adjacent. This was the
strong hold of power, and the seat of festivity; here,
on all suitable occasions, were assembled the rank,
beauty, and fashion of the colony; and here could
be paraded as many handsome French girls, as one
could wish to behold.
Michel entered the main gate of the fort, with a
countenance of sorrow, far different from his usual
gayety, when he came to head quarters, an invited
guest; and his feelings could be with difficulty restrained,
when he beheld the dark visage of Pedro
Garcia. The latter had been induced to give his attendance
by a missive from the commandant, assuring
him of a safe conduct to and from the fort, and
that all amicable means would be used to settle the
Being naturally bold and imprudent, and finding,
too, that the delicate little Genevieve was withering
like a plucked flower, and was at best a troublesome
guest—he came at the summons, and stood confronted
with the incensed Frenchman. There too
came all the relations of Michel and Felicité, and
divers other of the villagers, burning with indignation—there
stood Captain De la Val, Father Felix,
the magistrate, and the notary, as dignified and
complacent as if nothing had happened—and there
sat several aged chiefs of the Kaskaskia tribe, in
grave and solemn expectation, wondering at the
levity of the whites, who could hold a council on a
matter of such high import, without making presents,
tendering the wampum, and smoking the
great pipe.
The commandant examined the bond, heard the
evidence, and the decisions of his lieutenant, and
the civil officers on both sides of the river. He
pronounced the conduct of all the functionaries, civil
and military, to have been highly decorous and
proper, and hoped that in future, no Spaniard would
presume to sue a Frenchman, without his leave,
first had and obtained. He censured Pedro for the
violent capture of the innocent Genevieve, and
finally decreed, that the latter should be safely returned
to her parents, that Michel should pay to
Pedro the principal borrowed, without interest, the
latter being withheld as a fine for the violence committed
in the French territory, and that both the
sentence should be fully complied with. Pedro
remonstrated against the latter part of the decree, as
a breach of his safe conduct, but the commandant
decided that he had guarantied his safety in going
and coming, but had not precluded himself from
fixing the length of time during which he should
have the pleasure of Senior Garcia's company. The
latter, finding himself entrapped, made a merit of
necessity, and despatched an order for the little
Genevieve, who was soon given to her parents'
arms. We cannot describe their joy, nor the spontaneous
burst of sympathy, which ran through the
assembly, when the lost child was restored. The
Indians, who had sat motionless as statues throughout
the whole scene, preserving an inflexibility of
muscle which nothing could change, rose when
they beheld this affecting meeting, and said to each
other, “Very good.” One of them then stepped
forward, and addressing the commandant, said,
“Father, we came to see you do justice; we opened
our ears, and our hearts are satisfied. The cunning
black serpent crawled into the nest of the turtle,
and stole away the young dove; but our father is an
eagle, very strong and brave; he is wiser than the
serpent; he has brought back the young dove, and
the old turtles sing with joy. Father, we are satisfied;
it is all very good. We bid you farewell.”
Then advancing to the commandant, each of the
chiefs gave his right hand, and stalked out of the
other person.
As for Michel, he had now no difficulty in paying
his debt; for those who owed him, when they found
that his misfortune had grown out of their own delinquency,
immediately raised among them the sum
required; and Michel retired well satisfied, but convinced
of three truths, which he continued to maintain
through life; first, that French laws surpass all
others in wisdom and justice; second, that Spaniards
with black whiskers are not to be trusted; and
third, that it is safer to bury money under the floor
than to embark it in traffic; and he thereupon made
a vow to his patron saint, that whenever the
leathern bag should be replenished, it should be
restored to the place of deposit, there to remain as a
talisman against the like misfortune in future.
| MICHEL DE COUCY, A TALE OF FORT
CHARTRES. Legends of the West | |