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already conciliated the good will of remoter nations;
and from the Taensas and the Yazoos, Davion—whose name belonged of old to the rock now called
Fort Adams—and Montigny floated down the
Mississippi to visit their countrymen.
Already a line of communication existed between
Quebec and the
Gulf of Mexico.
The boundless southern region—made a part of the
French empire by lilies carved on forest trees, or crosses erected on bluffs, and occupied by French missionaries and forest rangers—was annexed to the command of the governor of
Biloxi.
During the absence of D'Iberville, it became apparent that
England was jealous of his enterprise.
Already
Hennepin had been taken into the pay of William III., and had published his new work, in
which, to bar the
French claim of discovery, he had, with impudent falsehood, claimed to have himself first descended the
Mississippi, and had interpolated into his former narrative a journal of his pretended voyage down the river.
This had been published in
London at the very moment when the fort at
Biloxi was in progress; and, at once, an exploring expedition,
under the auspices of
Coxe, a proprietor of
New Jersey, sought also for the mouths of the
Mississippi.
When
Bienville, who passed the summer in exploring the forks below the site of New Orleans, descended the river, he met an English ship of sixteen guns, com-
manded by
Barr,—one of two vessels which had been sent to sound the passes of the majestic stream.
Giving heed to the assertion of
Bienville of French supremacy, as proved by French establishments, the
English captain turned back; and the bend in the river which was the scene of the interview was named and is still called, English Turn.