The Brothers Robidoux and the Opening of the American West
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Angelique either showed no interest in moving the family to the wilderness of western Missouri, or Joseph convinced her of the dangerous nature of the frontier and that it was better to keep the brood in St. Louis, while he returned to the wilds to make a living and continue producing his métis progeny. Did Angelique know? Did Joseph ever tell her? His brothers continued to use the area around the Blacksnake Hills, particularly the landing spots on the riverbank at Roy's Branch (a creek that flowed into the Missouri River named for Baptiste Roy) or Blacksnake Creek, as trading bases with the neighboring Indian tribes. A government Indian agency had been established just a few miles southeast of the Blacksnake Hills in 1825, which increased the number of Indians passing through the area. A potentially viable Indian trade there contributed to Robidoux's decision to leave St. Louis and make the Blacksnake Hills his home. His enjoyment of the wilderness lifestyle, the challenge of barter and conversing with the Indians in their dialects, which he spoke fluently, and the inability to adjust to the civility of the city also factored in.
When exactly Joseph Robidoux returned to permanently stay in the area had been a matter of contention among some local historians. Many articles of early St. Joseph history put him at the Blacksnake Hills in the year 1826, including the first published history of the area, dated 1881.5 The problem with that date is that it is in conflict with events taking place at Council Bluffs, and the resulting bribe to stay out of the trade for two years. That a trading post existed at Blacksnake Hills in 1826 is not in contention, and it may have been built by or belonged to one of Joseph's brothers, most likely Michel, who had returned from his close encounter with death in New Mexico. Cabanné identified him as trading there, using some of the goods Joseph had already sent up the Missouri, “two skiffs were ready to go to Serpent Noir, conducted by the brother Michel,” and the fact he had license to trade in that area leaves little doubt. Joseph Robidoux reported he had seen some kind of building there in 1828, which he described as not fit for pigs.6
In 1829, a Palin Mitchell operated at Blacksnake Hills, for he wrote to Cabanné from there. “We received your letter by Mr. Robidoux and shall attend to the contents, so far as respects your fears of our trading with your Indians. Either Ottoes or Ioways, I hope you will give yourself no uneasiness. We recall the arrangements we made with you on that subject and we have always been determined that they should neither directly or indirectly be violated on our parts. As for selling whiskey to the Indians, I assure you that we have never sold one bottle to any Indian of any nations. Even if disposed to do so we have none on hand, except a few gallons for our own use. We have made an arrangement with Mr. Robidoux to give him a list of our credits with the Ioways and he on his part will furnish a list of yours, and we will collect them mutually for each other.”7
From the Blacksnake Hills site, Robidoux believed he could quickly reestablish a lucrative Indian trade and continue operations in the West with his brothers and sons, who traveled far afield. A ready transportation highway in the form of the Missouri River provided relatively easy access to markets. Keelboats and the early steamers brought trade goods upriver, while barges, or mackinaws, wide, flat-bottomed trading boats propelled by oars, or rafts could be used to float the furs and hides down to St. Louis. The United States Government through its agents, continued to negotiate and renegotiate treaties with the various Indian tribes, each time taking more land for the advance of white settlers, and always promising the Indians land a bit further west and annuities of cash or goods. The Indian annuities represented a major source of profits for men like Robidoux, equal to or surpassing the free trade of furs and skins. How much did the government offer the Indian tribes? In an 1830 treaty with tribes either living or moving in along the lower Missouri the following amounts were offered for up to ten years, or until the next treaty replaced it: “To the Sacs $3000, Foxes 3000, Omahas 2500, Ioways 2500, Ottoes and Missourias, 2500, Sacs of Missouri River 500.” If Robidoux could corner the Indian market by extending credits and offering what the Indians wanted, a substantial fortune for that time could be made.8
After two years in exile from the trade, Pierre Chouteau, as the chief representative of the American Fur Company in St. Louis, paid Joseph a salary, at a substantial $1,800 per annum, and Joseph agreed not to interfere with the trade at Council Bluffs nor further torment old Cabanné. The initial site of Joseph's post at Roy's Branch did not prove suitable and he moved to the mouth of Blacksnake Creek, two miles to the south. There, he chose a site near the base of the bluffs that rose two or three hundred feet above the floodplain. Clean, fresh water flowed in Blacksnake Creek and he built a cabin close to the river embankment. Joseph clearly stated the relationship, writing as he neared his assignment at the Blacksnake Hills, “I am awaiting your orders and instructions—they will be executed to the letter. Write me often and I will not be negligent in telling you what is happening here.”9
By the beginning of September 1831, Robidoux left St. Louis to settle in at Blacksnake Hills, the site of the future city of St. Joseph, Missouri. Technically, he operated under the license of the American Fur Company, granted by William Clark the previous year on August 20, 1831, giving rights at “Bellevue, Roy's grave, Mahas dirt village, the Papillion, the two Pawnee dirt villages on the Loup fork of the Platte, their dirt village on the Republican fork of the Kansas, and Blacksnake hills.” He would not be alone, as James M. Hughes had also been granted a license to trade at the “Blacksnake hills,” good for one year from the date July 16, 1831.10 He had some misgivings and on September 10 wrote to Pierre Chouteau from Liberty, a growing trade center on the Missouri River, forty miles south and east of the Blacksnake Hills by the crow's flight.
I arrived yesterday at the same time as the wagons that brought the merchandise of Mr. [Lucian] Fontenelle. He will not leave until the 13th and I assure you that he is having much trouble with those drunkards: I believe that Sarpy chose them on purpose—what bad men! Tomorrow morning I will leave for my cellar or cave: I have learned that a part of it has standing water and in the other it rains like outside and that the merchandise are all damaged by the rain and rats.
I see that, from a bishop, I have become a joiner, and if I had foreseen that I had to combat competition here, I would never have undertaken it. I would have done much, much, better to have, myself, been your competitor. But on the contrary I believe I would be alone at Council Bluffs, and my ambition was to let you see how one should carry on the business without a salary. But there is now no remedy and I must conform to circumstances, as you say, and you may be sure that that will not lessen my seal for your interests.
According to what they say, I will have the agent's nephew for a competitor. He is going to build their house on the Grande Riviere within the line in order to have the advantage of having whiskey, I suppose; and that is a big one because these poor Indians exist only for that. I am asking Mr. Cabanne for Martin, who knows the hunting places and I will try to have the trading at these same places, because in letting them come I lose this advantage. I have not yet formed an opinion how to begin as for credits; I cannot do it until I see their dispositions.
I need men and I have none. Mr. Cabanne will send me some, I suppose. I have asked him for them and also a house—surely I am not difficult on this point—but this one is not fit for pigs—I say it three years ago, and I can judge what it may be now. If among the men Mr. Cabanne is to send me there is not one who is skilled in building, one is necessary—and I know Louis and John Roy at Independence; perhaps I could have them, one of them; give me your opinion on that.11
By September 15, Robidoux reached his new home at the Blacksnake Hills and dashed off a letter to Pierre Chouteau reiterating the sad state of affairs there, which he had earlier predicted.
Judge by the paper on which this letter is written of the state in which I found the house—you complain of my lack of order, but this surpasses mine. The barge has not yet arrived and I do not know where to lodge the merchandise. I
will be obliged to leave them out of doors. I believe that in building a house it must be made big and convenient; I have never known exactly your idea. I have lost my bill and the list of the merchandise that remains here; I gave my great coat to Robidoux [probably Joseph E.]—I think they were in the pocket—I have sent to Camp Leavenworth to find out—in case they are not found please send me a copy.
I have not found a blanket—he says they were eaten by the rats and that he sold them—I took an inventory—it seems to me that there must be a great deficit. I have found 450 deer-skins, 3 beaver and 2 otter; tell me what price I should pay for deer-skins?
The reference to “he” is probably either Palin Mitchell or a Mr. Farnham identified in a later letter.
An American asked me for money—that is to say, for part in merchandise. The Indian gentlemen hoped impatiently for credit—and I don't even know them. If they were my Ottos and Mahas I would know very well what to do. They say I will have competition and, I fear, for credits—well, I will do my best—you can only give me your opinion.
Give me your instructions in case the competition vexes me—if I knew roughly what these Indians generally make—get when hunting—I could guide myself—I have no idea—you gave me no information—some say that Kambeck made $4,000 last winter, La Conf $6,000. Is this true? I do not believe it.
It is eight days since I passed the Riviere des Kans. I am going to start building a house right away—I still do not know in what place—I am going to look today at the entrance of the Petite Riviere.12
Joseph Robidoux saw the Blacksnake Hills region many times in his coming and going up and down the Missouri River from his base at the Bluffs. His brothers traded there along with a number of his contemporaries and competitors, but he indicated he did not have the firsthand knowledge of the area, as many local historians assumed, nor did he find the place that endearing. Writing to Chouteau ten days after arriving he opened sarcastically,
I remember that Mme Rigauche always told me that when you deserve to go to Purgatory you were there for a certain time and then you returned to Paradise. But in the one you sent me to I have no such hope; I would be patiently resigned if I had some hope of doing some business there. But I see that these Indians just have the itch—since I arrived they have come with three and four red skins to demand a 3 point blanket saying that is what they are always paid.
I am really surprised how to do business here when there are only deer skins to be hoped for. I assure you that in 15 years with my Ottos I don't think I traded 10 blankets for deer skins. But one must not despair, it is permitted for them to bargain—it is natural. The Indians tell me that there will be trading firms, that they are on the Grande Riviere and the Platte, right at the hunting grounds. They demand, on credit, these carabines and guns. What shall we do? If we keep them, we get fewer skins. I think we should take the risk that they will kill some skins for our competitors. One blanket costs you 4.25 at St. Louis and certainly it cost to deliver it here—it must be sold at nearly 7, the price of putting the two ends together, as they say—and I ask you if 7 or 8 deer skins will pay for this blanket; about the same with other merchandise.13
Least it be forgotten, Robidoux's post at the Blacksnake Hills sat beyond the edge of settlement, the frontier line, and in Indian country. “You have heard that the Mahas have killed the son of an Ayois chief—they want vengeance. At the moment they are tranquil because Mr. D'haugherty [John Dougherty, the Indian agent for the region based at Fort Leavenworth] has promised them that he will bring in the murderers—but he could sooner take the moon with his teeth at this moment. Day before yesterday some Ayois horses were stolen; they are in pursuit of them, thinking they are some Sioux. All these little troubles do us no harm, for it is not the hunting season. At this moment the Ayois who were pursuing the Sioux are arriving; Chief Le Grand Cou had been killed and two others mortally wounded—they think they have killed two Sioux—but this is not certain; it is on the edge of a prairie and the latter fled into the brush. So you see it is nothing to laugh about.”14
Having lived in relative comfort in St. Louis for two years, Joseph Robidoux must have found the conditions at Blacksnake Hills abominable, and he told Chouteau about it.
What a difference from the situation at St. Louis—I had a seraglio, I was like a small sultan. Nothing here of all that, for good reasons—one must expiate his sins in this purgatory. I do not sleep well, as I fear that any moment the cabin will fall down. I need a house, and I am without men, without tools and absolutely without a screw; only 5 pounds of nails that you reminded me not to forget; a minot [bushel] of corn, for which the Indians demand much. Because I have no tools and since the house must be finished before the beginning of trading, for you can believe that it is impossible for me to say in this one, I have contracted with an American for 4,000 shingles and 2,000 feet of board at $2 a hundred, also hired a pair of oxen for the wagon; I think you will not blame me. Perhaps I will need money to pay this contract and also to pay for some furs if any turn up to be sold—tell me if I can get some from Guesso or elsewhere. I am not waiting for the men Cabanne was to send me; they would be too late; I have three men and I hope by the first or tenth of November it will be finished.
Robidoux even complained about not having enough cooking utensils at the wilderness post, and gave a telling remark about his diet. “As I am a great eater of gumbo, I thank Sarpy immensely for the good rice he gave me—he could have told me to take as much as you pleased—it was the provisions I was permitted to ask for.”15
The situation at the Blacksnake Hills did not improve for Joseph Robidoux over the short run. A month after arriving, he complained the situation was even worse than when he arrived.
I have come out of Purgatory to enter into Hell, this spoiled wilderness where you have nested me. For the last 15 days I have been besieged in a cellar by these rascals asking for credits; the carabines and guns are all gone—now they demand cloth and blankets. It is easy for me to refuse them. Also I would not like to displease—they have always been use to receiving these things—I see it in the credit books and I also believe that it is the fault of the persons who were here if they lost the credits. The worst thing is that I cannot sell them nearly (the highest price) enough; the price is $25 for carabines, 15 for guns, 6 for 3 point blankets, $5 for cloth, etc. And you see that at this price there is no profit.
It is not like it was with my Otos & Panis—where I sold at double the prices. It is so dark in my cellar that I did not notice when I received the merchandise that the woolen goods were all eaten up—the coats—the axes I think the Sacs have had them for the last ten years; those I received from St. Louis are all unsound or of bad iron—the kettles especially, not one that is good for anything—2 chests of guns were wet and the guns all rusted—5 carabines, half of them broken in the chest—American—Sarpy should know that the small traps for rats or opossums almost all have no springs and are all old; for lack of some things I do not believe I shall make much. I need sheet iron kettles positively and others of tin—but not small ones of a quarter of a gallon—such as you gave me. The Indians show me their blankets, which are thread bare—saying that they are going to hunt for me—how can they pass the winter thus? Actually they are rather right—but they are rascals—and I do not think them honest fellows—nor do you, I suppose.16
In the same letter Joseph makes some rare references to his family, first mentioning Antoine, his brother, coming to the post, apparently on his way to St. Louis. “Antoine will tell you in what situation he found me, swimming, not a place to sit down.” In a separate postscript he writes of some of his children. “I omitted telling you that my son Robidoux [Joseph E.] did not continue at the Sioux because Messrs. Papin and Cerre [Pascal] said you had told them you did not want him to return to the Sioux. I did not believe them—I know you did not say that about him. He is here; he is assisting me, as my other sons will do—all my men I keep them at work 2 miles from here—I have here with me two chil
dren whom I brought from St. Louis—to follow a good example—now you see the situation, I must not begin to give them a bad one—and I am going to make them work for you only.”17 Who were the children? In 1831 the eldest sons from his marriage to Angelique, Jules, would have been seventeen years old, and Antoine fifteen years old, being the best assumption.
Robidoux, operating as a federally licensed trader, even though issued to the American Fur Company, jealously guarded his territory. He worried about traders operating out of Fort Leavenworth, traders coming south from the Bluffs region, and freelance traders operating out of Liberty or Independence, downstream on the Missouri River. In his letters to Chouteau, Robidoux constantly wrote about ways to disarm the competition, usually by offering to buy them out, or complain to the federal officials. By the early 1830s, new tribes from the East moved into the area, such as the Sac and Fox, and eastern Iowa Indians. They had been displaced from the Mississippi Valley by warfare and the Treaty of Prairie du Chien in 1830. The move brought them into land conflict with other tribes, like the Otoes and Missouri bands who already lived there. However, more Indians in the region meant potentially more trade for Robidoux. The Indian tribes received annuities from the government as part of their treaty settlements. The payments might be in cash, or as supposed, an equal value in trade goods. Military officers had some discretion in the payment of the annuities, deciding how and where they were distributed and by whom. Joseph Robidoux knew the officers and sometimes served as the intermediary, keeping the trade goods at his post until such time as they were to be released to the Indians. In the interim, he allowed the Indians to run accounts, taking goods, which could be paid for later, either with furs and skins or cash from the government annuities.18