Chapter 17 –
Talk of Claude
Jean Pierre’s wife joined us about this time. She had been in the midst of something or other and so was late and very apologetic about it. She pulled up a chair, and Jean brought out a pitcher of the local apple wine. I like him. The conversation turned from history and houses to civic events. There would be races on the river this weekend, a concert in the park Monday evening, Tuesday there would be… You get the idea. Theirs was a bustling city and the fun never stopped. You have to love civic pride.
Eventually, we got back to history. Here I was watching Jean Pierre’s wife, Yvette. It would be odd if couples shared every interest. We are, after all, individuals, and while we share some interests with our spouses, there are bound to be some differences. Not a problem, unless… And here is what I was watching for. As Jean Pierre started back on history, would Yvette signal impatience? Boredom? Or would she be a good sport about it? Thankfully, she at least feigned interest. So, I gained confidence in our evening. We could have dinner together and relax in each other’s company.
And that is what we did. Wine glasses in hand, we walked back into the house, Jean Pierre leading the way.
“Every room has artifacts in it,” he said, pointing vaguely around him as we walked through the house. “But the best room is the dining room. Once the decision was made to panel it in wood, it just seemed natural to put most of the wooden artifacts there.” He led us straight to the room. Gabrielle was there setting the table when we entered, and she seemed a bit uncertain about what to do. Elise asked her to keep setting the table, but to set seven places, since she hoped Jean and Gabrielle and Gustav would join us. That having been settled, Jean Pierre went back to his lecture, motioning for us to all stand on the far side of the room.
“The wall on this side is decking from one of the first boats the Huguenots built. You notice it is pretty gouged out in places where equipment was screwed on to the deck, and there are polished areas from years of bare feet walking across the deck. They used the boat for several years, and then it was smashed against a dock here in Kaskaskia during a storm. Claude salvaged the wood and used it for flooring in a house he built. It then got reused several times before ending up on this wall.”
“So these boards are three hundred years old, and were made by Huguenots?” Leave it to me, the math whiz, to subtract 1700 from 2000.
“The Huguenots had lots of problems. Louisiana is just an awful place to farm. If malaria doesn’t kill you, and floods don’t take your crops, you still have to clear the land of huge trees before you can plant anything. The colony was never going to be self-sufficient in food.”
“So Claude brought them food, and they shot him.” That was probably not the most politically sensitive thing I have ever said.
“What I find interesting is not so much that they shot him, but that he kept going back anyway.” I liked Jean Pierre. He was going to take the high road. Good for him. “The first time he took corn down the river he practically saved them from starvation. By the time he came back the next year, they had some farms struggling to produce a crop, with the farmers hoping to make a few francs from months of backbreaking work, only to find this guy from Kaskaskia could undersell them. They were pretty unhappy. I don’t think they are the first people to dislike foreign competition.”
“And this leads to boat building?”
“The one thing they have an endless supply of is trees. And it is all hardwood. Northern woods are largely pine, easy to work with but quick to rot. Louisiana had hardwoods. Cutting lumber and then working with the boards was back breaking, but what they built would last.” As he said the last, he pointed to the wall.
“And that became the basis of trade? Food for boats?”
“That became the basis for trade because Claude Jolliet made it the basis for trade. He could have traded muskets for beaver pelts like lots of other men were doing in those days. But instead of trading with the tribes to the west, he traded with the Huguenots. His choice – and his legacy.”
“That was the clearest description of his actions that I have ever heard or seen in print.”
“It’s a talk I give at the local historical society. I think I have given the talk about a thousand times.”
“Well, thanks for making it one thousand and one.” I had no wish to keep the man performing all evening, so I suggested we move to the library while dinner was being prepared (I now knew where the library was and could lead the way). I was pleased to see that Jean had predicted the move and already had apple wine and some harder drinks waiting for us.
How did the rest of the evening go? It was mostly get-to-know-you stuff. I talked a little bit about the university. Elise talked about the Ministry. It turned out she had a new title that I had somehow missed. How many promotions had she gotten in the last year? Jean Pierre described the hospital. They had their challenges. It appeared dock-side injuries were almost never minor. If they happened on the job, they involved big machines that crushed arms or legs. If they happened off the job, they involved knives or guns. The trauma unit was big and always busy. Yvette had the most interesting job. She was an event planner for the city, and had been responsible for bringing some major acts to town. Once we got her started, she talked through dinner and well into the cognac about celebrities and their outrageous behavior. Drugs, drink, fast cars, demolished hotel rooms, public nudity, she had seen it all and had to deal with it all. And it turned out she was a great story teller. The evening flew by. It was already past midnight when we found ourselves on the front porch saying good bye and dodging mosquitoes.
We had waved our final goodbyes as they walked down the sidewalk, when I noticed Gustav dart off across the lawn. He got halfway to the street when a car I hadn’t seen in the dark started up and drove away. What was that about? We had no idea, but it gave us one more reason to get back in the house.