On the last day of June, the party, with its commander at their head, sharing in every respect the condition of his men, started in a northwest direction for Kaskaskia. Its distance was one hundred and thirty miles, and the intervening country being low and flat, intersected by numerous streams, and covered with luxuriant vegetation, and being also without roads or bridges and in a state of nature, was, except to backwoodsmen, almost impassable. Through this region the intrepid leader of this gallant band marched on foot, with "his rifle upon his shoulder and his provisions upon his back;" sustaining two days' march, after his provisions were exhausted, till on the evening of the 4th of July, he arrived within a few miles of Kaskaskia. Their march, though arduous, was attended with no peculiar difficulties, other than what were common in those days of privation; perhaps none beyond the ordinary sufferings which accompany military expeditions through forests, where game and water are scarce. A circumstance, however, happened on the third day of his march, which excited for the time some considerable emotion, and led almost to a disastrous issue. John Saunders, the principal guide, lost his way, and got so bewildered that he was unable to direct their course. Suspicion was at once excited in relation to his fidelity, and a cry immediately arose among the men to "put the traitor to death." He sought, however, and obtained permission of the colonel to go into the prairie and try to recover himself. The application was granted, and a guard appointed to accompany him thither, by whom he was told, that if he did not conduct the detachment into the hunters' road to Kaskaskia, which he had frequently described and trayelled, and which led through a country that no woodsman could well forget, he should be hanged. After searching a considerable time, the poor fellow discovered a spot that he recollected, and his innocence was at once established. On arriving near Kaskaskia, they waited till dark, when they continued their march. There stood at that time on the west side of the river, and about three-quarters of a mile above the village, a small house, into which the Americans first entered, and there learned that the "militia had been called out the day before; but as no cause of alarm existed, they had been dismissed, and that everything was quiet-that there was a great number of men in the town, and but few Indians; the greater part having recently gone." Some boats were immediately procured, and two divisions of the party crossed the river, with orders to repair to different parts of the village, while Colonel Clarke himself, with the third division, was to take possession of the fort on the east side of the river, commanding the town. Orders were given, that in case Clarke's division should succeed, and the fort should be taken without resistance, the two divisions on the west bank of the river, on a signal given for that purpose, should possess with a shout certain quarters of the town; and that persons who could speak French should be sent in every direction, and give notice 235 to the inhabitants, "that every man who should appear in the streets would be shot down." These dispositions were attended with complete success the fort was taken-Clarke entered it by a postern gate on the river side left open, "directed thither by a soldier he had taken prisoner the evening before." The town was at once surrounded and every avenue guarded, so as to prevent the transmission of intelligence from thence, and in about "two hours, the inhabitants were disarmed without blood. shed." Troops had been enlisted, officered, and equipped, transported one thousand three hundred miles by land and water, through a wilderness country, inhabited by the allies of England; and marched into a garrisoned town, without the slightest resistance, and without suspicion that such a movement was in contemplation. The difficulty of making such a journey now, from Virginia to Kaskaskia, aided by all the improvements which modern times have suggested, is considerable; but, when we consider what it must have been sixty-five years ago, without roads, without bridges, and almost without boats to navigate the rivers; and when we consider, also, the difficulty of transporting provisions and ammunition through a wild, uninhabited, and hostile region, we cannot but admire the conduct of its leader, and pronounce his exploit, "a brilliant military achievement." Colonel Clarke was a man of few words-his merit consisted principally in deeds. The speech, however, he made to his troops on arriving at Kaskaskia, was "brief and pointed;" and we should do him great injustice were we to omit it here. The speeches which Livy puts into the mouths of his heroes, no matter whether genuine or not, are frequently admired; why not follow his example? McDonald, who commanded a regiment of Highlanders in the English army, under Sir Ralph Abercombie in Egypt, at the battle of the Pyramids, when the French troops were approaching, addressed his gallant followers in a speech, which has often, and we think very justly, been admired: "Ye are," said he, "the muckle lads of Scotland, and I am Donald McDonald, your chief-yonder are Bonaparte's invincibles; but ye are to convince them, this day, that they are vincible-so out with your muckle whangers." "Yonder," said General Starke, at the battle of Bennington, "are the red-coats; ere the sun goes down they must be ours, or Molly Starke sleeps a widow to-night." Colonel Clarke's speech at Kaskaskia was not only more brief, but more pithy than either. It consisted of but one sentence, so condensed as to convey, without circumlocution, the precise idea he intended. "The town," said he, "is to be taken at all events.” * And it was taken. * Hall's Sketches of the West. The dread and horror which the name of Virginians had created, now came to his aid. It was, perhaps, one of the most innocent stratagems of war that could have been devised; and although painful and alarming to the inhabitants for the time being, the occasion unquestionably justified its use, and the effect was astonishing. During the night Clarke ordered his troops, in small parties, to patrol the town in every possible direction, making the utmost tumult, and whooping after the Indian fashion-while the inhabitants, shut up in their houses, preserved the most perfect silence. The British governor, Mr. Rocheblave, was taken in his chamber during the night. The public papers, however, had been destroyed or secreted by his wife; and it was thought "ten thousand times better" to forego the advantages arising from their possession, than that "a gallant son of Virginia" should "tarnish the ancient fame of his State," by offering an insult to a female. Although many important papers were supposed to be concealed in her trunks, they were "honorable respected, and not even examined." It is, we believe, the first instance on record, where gallantry has been carried so far. Efforts were made during the night to obtain intelligence of the situation and force of the British and their allies in the vicinity, but with little success. A considerable body, however, of Indians, it was early ascertained were encamped at Cahokia, about fifty miles from thence, up the river; and that Monsieur Cere, the principal merchant at Kaskasia, an inveterate enemy of the American cause, was then at St. Louis, on his way to Quebec, from whence he had lately returned, to prosecute extensive operations. The family of Monsieur Cere were in Kaskaskia, and a large stock of his merchandise; and Colonel Clarke, deeming his influence important in the (then) state of affairs, thought, by means of these pledges in his power, to obtain the good opinion of this opulent and respectable merchant. A guard was thereupon stationed about his house, and seals were put upon his property, as well as upon the whole merchandise of the place. On the day after the surrender, the troops were all withdrawn, and stationed in different positions about the town. All intercourse with the soldiers was strictly forbidden, and those sent for by Clarke were forbidden to converse even with each other. The whole town was at once overspread with terror. In presence of an enemy, of whom the inhabitants entertained the most horrid apprehensions, all intercourse with each other and their conquerors strictly forbidden, the most gloomy forebodings filled every bosom. After the troops had been removed, the inhabitants were permitted to walk about as before. Congregating, however, together, and being seen by their conquerors apparently in earnest conversation, some of their number, and among them the principal militia officers, were arrested by Colonel Clarke, and put in irons, without assigning any reason for so doing, and without permitting them to speak in their own defence. The consternation which had hitherto prevailed, was now increased; and neither mercy nor compassion any longer expected. At last, when hope had nearly vanished, Monsieur Gibault, the priest of the village, and five or six elderly gentlemen, obtained permission to wait on Colonel Clarke. Surprised, as they had been, by the sudden capture of their town, and by such an enemy as their imagination had painted, they were still more so when admitted to his presence. Their clothes were dirty, and torn by the briers, and their whole appearance was frightful and savage. Those acquainted with the delicacy and refinement of the ancient French, can alone appreciate their embarrassed condition. It was some time after they were admitted into the room where Clarke and his officers were seated, before they could speak; and not even then till their business was demanded. They first asked which was the commander; so effectually had the expedition confounded all ranks and distinction. Colonel Clarke being pointed out, the priest, in a subdued tone, which indicated what he felt, said: "That the inhabitants expected to be separated, never to meet again on earth, and they begged for permission, through him, to assemble once more in the church, to take a final leave of each other." Clarke, aware that they suspected him of hostility to their religion, carelessly told them, that he had nothing to say against their church; that religion was a matter, which the Americans left every one for himself to settle with his God; that the people might assemble in the church, if they wished, but they must not leave the town. Some further conversation was attempted; but Clarke, in order that the alarm might be raised to its utmost height, repelled it with sternness, and told them at once that he had not leisure for further intercourse. The whole town immediately assembled at the church; the old and the young, the women and the children, and the houses were all deserted. Strict orders in the meantime were given, that no dwelling, upon any pretence whatever, should be entered by the soldiers. The people remained in church for a long time-after which the priest, accompanied by several gentlemen, waited upon Colonel Clarke, and expressed, in the name of the village, "their thanks for the indulgence they had received." The deputation then desired, at the request of the inhabitants, to address their conqueror on a subject which was dearer to them than any other. "They were sensible," they said, "that their present situation was the fate of war; and they could submit to the loss of property, but solicited that they might not be separated from their wives and children, and that some clothes and provisions might be allowed for their future support." They assured Colonel Clarke, that their conduct had been influenced by the British commandants, whom they supposed they were bound to obey-that they were not certain that they understood the nature of the contest between Great Britain and the colonies that their remote situation was unfavorable to accurate information that some of their number had expressed themselves in favor of the Americans, and others would have done so had they durst. Clarke, having wound up their terror to the highest pitch, resolved now to try the effect of that lenity, which he had all along intended to grant. He therefore abruptly addressed them: "Do you," said he, " mistake us for savages? I am almost certain you do from your language. Do you think that Americans intend to strip women and children, or take the bread out of their mouths? My countrymen disdain to make war upon helpless innocence. It was to prevent the horrors of Indian butchery upon our own wives and children, that we have taken up arins, and penetrated into this stronghold of British and Indian barbarity, and not the despicable prospect of plunder. That since the King of France had united his arms with those of America, the war, in all probability, would shortly cease. That the inhabitants of Kaskaskia, however, were at liberty to take which side they pleased, without danger to themselves, their property, or their families. That all religions were regarded by the Americans with equal respect; and that insult offered to theirs, would be immediately punished. And now," continued he, "to prove my sincerity, you will please inform your fellow-citizens, that they are at liberty to go wherever they please, without any apprehension. That he was now convinced they had been misinformed, and prejudiced against the Americans, by British officers; and that their friends in confinement should immediately be released." The joy of the village seniors, on hearing the speech of Colonel Clarke, may be imagined; we will not, however, attempt to describe it. They stammered out some apology for their suspicions, and were about to remark that the property of a captured town belonged to the conquerors. Colonel Clarke, however, dispensed with any explanations, and desired them to relieve the anxiety of their friends, and comply strictly with the terms of a proclamation he was about to issue. The contrast of feeling among the people, on learning these generous and magnanimous intentions of Colonel Clarke, verified his anticipations. The gloom which had overspread the town was immediately dispersed. The bells rung a merry peal; the church was at once filled, and thanks offered up to God for deliverance from the terrors they had feared. Freedom to come and go, as they pleased, was immediately given; knowing that their reports would advance the success and glory of his arms. Some uneasiness, however, was yet felt respecting Cahokia, the capture of which Colonel Clarke resolved to attempt, and gain in the same way, if possible. For that purpose, Major Bowman and his company were ordered thither. Some gentlemen, however, of Kaskaskia, apprised of his intentions, offered their services to effect what Colonel Clarke had desired. They assured him that the people of Cahokia were their relations and friends, and they had no doubt of their acting in unison with them, when the circumstances in which they were placed should be explained. Major Bowman departed for this new conquest, if conquest it could be called, in high spirits, with French militia officers at the head of his new allies. They reached Cahokia on the 6th, before the surrender of Kaskaskia was known. The cry of "the Big Knife," at first spread alarm, but it was allayed by the French gentlernen of Kaskaskia |