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Page 61
[2] The Mississippi.
[3] The arm of Lake Michigan, now called Green Bay.
[4] The town of Prairie du Chien lies just north of the confluence
of the Wisconsin and Mississippi rivers.
THE DEATH OF MARQUETTE
(1675)
BY FATHER CLAUDE DABLON[1]
Father James Marquette, having promised the Illinois, called
Kaskaskia, to return among them to teach them our mysteries, had great
difficulty in keeping his word. The great hardships of his first
voyage had brought on a dysentery, and had so enfeebled him that he
lost all hope of undertaking a second voyage. Yet, his malady having
given way and almost ceased toward the close of summer in the
following year, he obtained permission of his superiors to return to
the Illinois to found that noble mission....
After the Illinois had taken leave of the father, filled with a great
idea of the gospel, he continued his voyage, and soon after reached
the Illinois Lake, on which he had nearly a hundred leagues to make by
an unknown route, because he was obliged to take the southern
[eastern] side of the lake, having gone thither by the northern
[western]. His strength, however, failed so much that his men
despaired of being able to carry him alive to their journey's end;
for, in fact, he became so weak and exhausted that he could no longer
help himself, nor even stir, and had to be handled and carried like a
child....
The eve of his death, which was a Friday, he told them, all radiant
with joy, that it would take place on the morrow. During the whole day
he conversed with them about the manner of his burial, the way in
which he should be laid out, the place to be selected for his
interment; he told them how to arrange his hands, feet, and face, and
directed them to raise a cross over his grave. He even went so far as
to enjoin them, only three hours before he expired, to take his
chapel-bell, as soon as he was dead, and ring it while they carried
him to the grave. Of all this he spoke so calmly and collectedly that
you would have thought that he spoke of the death and burial of
another, and not of his own.
Thus did he speak with them as they sailed along the lake, till,
perceiving the mouth of a river with an eminence on the bank which he
thought suited for his burial, he told them that it was the place of
his last repose. They wished, however, to pass on, as the weather
permitted it and the day was not far advanced; but God raised a
contrary wind which obliged them to return and enter the river pointed
out by Father Marquette. They then carried him ashore, kindled a
little fire, and raised for him a wretched bark cabin, where they laid
him as little uncomfortably as they could; but they were so overcome
by sadness that, as they afterward said, they did not know what they
were doing.
The father being thus stretched on the shore, like Saint Francis
Xavier, as he had always so ardently desired, and left alone amid
those forests,--for his companions were engaged in unloading,--he had
leisure to repeat all the acts in which he had been employed during
the preceding days....
He had prayed his companions to remind him, when they saw him about to
expire, to pronounce frequently the names of Jesus and Mary. When he
could not do it himself, they did it for him; and, when they thought
him about to pass, one cried aloud, Jesus Maria, which he several
times repeated distinctly, and then, as if at those sacred names
something had appeared to him, he suddenly raised his eyes above his
crucifix, fixing them apparently on some object which he seemed to
regard with pleasure, and thus with a countenance all radiant with
smiles, he expired without a struggle, as gently as if he had sunk
into a quiet sleep.
His two poor companions, after shedding many tears over his body, and
having laid it out as he had directed, carried it devoutly to the
grave, ringing the bell according to his injunction, and raised a
large cross near it to serve as a mark for passers-by.
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