Hamilton raises a strong force and regains Vincennes—He prepares to move upon the other posts but Clark forestalls him—A desperate march through the “drowned” lands—The band struggle along day after day through icy water—The food gives out and starvation stares them in the face—“No provisions yet, Lord help us!”—The bold march upon Vincennes and the attack on the fort—The backwoodsmen give the British a lesson in marksmanship—The fort is surrendered and the garrison made prisoners—Governor Hamilton is sent to Virginia.

At the close of the year 1778, Clark found himself in possession of three British posts commanding a territory of many hundreds of square miles, in which dwelt an undependable population of creoles, and large bands of Indians who might become active enemies at any moment. His force had become diminished by the return to their homes of a number of men whose terms of enlistment had expired. He had barely one hundred Americans with him, and the French with whom he filled the vacancies in his ranks were sorry substitutes for his sturdy backwoodsmen.

Henry Hamilton, the Governor of Canada, had been on the point of making an aggressive movement against the American settlements in the West when knowledge of Clark’s invasion of British territory came to him. Hamilton was brave and energetic. He immediately turned his attention to the task of ousting the Americans from Canada. At Detroit, the headquarters of the dominion, preparations were made for a formidable expedition.

Early in October, Hamilton started for Vincennes at the head of a force of about one hundred and eighty whites and sixty Indians. The latter contingent was joined by many bands on the way, until the total strength of the command was brought up to five hundred. Many difficulties were encountered on the journey, which involved the crossing of Lake Erie and the passage of several rivers under highly unfavorable conditions. At length, however, after seventy days of toilsome progress, the mixed force reached its destination.

At the first appearance of the British commandant the creole population of the town rushed to tender their allegiance. The garrison of the fort promptly abandoned its arms and followed suit. There were but three Americans in the place, and of course nothing remained for them but to surrender. They were placed under parole and treated with consideration. Thus by the middle of December the British had without any difficulty regained the principal of the captured posts.

Hamilton was now justified in the conclusion that he had complete command of the situation. Clark could not possibly stand against the overwhelming force that the British commander could bring against him. The latter decided to defer further operations until after the passage of the cold weather, during which, in fact, it was almost impossible to traverse the country. Meanwhile, he made his plans not only for the comparatively easy task of subduing Clark but also for an expedition of a thousand Indians, supported by artillery, into Kentucky.

Had the opening of spring found the British Governor in a position to prosecute his designs the most momentous consequences must have ensued. Without doubt he would have cleared the invaders from Canada, when that large section of country below the Lakes which accrued to us from the treaty of 1783 would have been lost. But he must also have swept the settlers from Kentucky, and would probably have worked incalculable damage all along the colonial frontier.

Clark, who had timely news of Hamilton’s movements, fully appreciated the dangers of his situation and knew that he could not hope to hold out against the regular soldiers, trained militia, and hordes of Indian warriors that Hamilton would bring to the attack. He did not despair, however, but calmly determined to make the most of circumstances, and the good fortune which ever attended Clark in his early career here afforded an opportunity for the exercise of his peculiar genius. In reviewing the incidents of this important campaign, it will not do to overlook the fact that only one man in a million would have found an opening for action in the circumstances that afforded Clark an avenue to victory.

In January, 1779, a Spanish trader named Vigo came to Kaskaskia. He had recently been in Vincennes, and he imparted to Clark the news that the Indians, according to their custom, had repaired to their villages for the winter, and that Hamilton had but eighty men in the garrison. Vigo also informed the American leader of the plans made by the British commandant for the spring advance upon Kentucky. Clark instantly decided to forestall his opponent by attacking him without delay.

During all this time,—nearly a year,—since his departure, Clark had received no aid, nor any word, from Governor Henry, or any of the officials of Virginia. Perhaps his wonderful success was in large measure due to the freedom from interference that enabled him to exercise his judgment and daring without trammel. The adventure which he now entered upon was one that only the stoutest heart could have contemplated without quailing. If Hamilton, with his greatly superior resources, deemed the passage of the country between Vincennes and Kaskaskia impracticable in winter, how much more formidable an undertaking was it to the ill-provided force of Clark!

On the seventh of February the American leader started at the head of one hundred and seventy men, nearly half of whom were creoles, for Vincennes. The distance was two hundred and forty miles, and the way lay through what was in summer time a beautiful region of woodland and prairie, but now much of it was what the Indians called “drowned,” that is, flooded. Fortunately, the weather was unusually mild, or the troops must have suffered intensely from cold, for they carried little baggage of any kind and had no tents. During the earlier stages of the march they secured a sufficient supply of game and made enormous fires at night, round which they slept in comparative comfort.

For a week the experiences of the party were only such as backwoodsmen and trappers were commonly accustomed to, but at the end of this time they reached the branches of the Wabash and the rigors of the journey began. Their road lay first across the two forks of the Little Wabash. These were three miles apart and hidden beneath a great lake five miles in breadth and nowhere less than three feet in depth.

Clark immediately constructed a pirogue, with which he crossed the first channel and erected a platform on the other side. He then ferried his men across, and next brought the baggage over and placed it upon the platform. Last of all, he swam the pack-horses through the stream, reloaded them beside his temporary landing, and marched the entire party over the flooded land to the farther fork. This was passed in a similar manner. The passage of a little more than three miles occupied as many days.

They had now approached within twenty miles of Vincennes, but every step of the way hereafter was fraught with dangers and difficulties, and progress was painfully slow. All day long they labored through ooze, or water, which was sometimes breast-high. The floods had cleared the country of game and the pangs of hunger were soon added to the other privations of the desperate adventurers. Clark and his officers directed their utmost efforts towards keeping up the spirits of the men, for they knew that only thus could they hope to tide them over the terrible last stages of the journey.

On the seventeenth, they reached the Embarrass River, but could find nothing in which to cross nor a dry spot to camp upon. They passed that night huddled together, wet and hungry, upon a small hillock that was just clear of the water. In the morning they were cheered by the sound of the sunrise gun at the fort, but had they known the weary way that still lay between them and their objective, some of them must have abandoned the struggle there and then.

Three days were now spent in building canoes. On the twentieth the men had been two days without food, and the control that Clark maintained of these rude levies may be inferred from the fact that they still had the horses, which he did not propose to eat except in the last extremity. In the course of the day, they captured a boat containing five Frenchmen from Vincennes, and were cheered to learn that conditions in the town remained in the state described by the trader Vigo. In the evening a deer was caught, and the situation of the party was thereby materially improved.

The following morning Clark ferried his troops across the river, but found it impossible to bring his horses any farther. The captive French were carried along, protesting that it was impossible for human beings to reach the town by way of the intervening submerged lands. But Clark was determined to go forward, and he led his men through the chill waters that often came up to their necks. Thus they advanced slowly and painfully for three miles, and at night camped upon a little knob of wet ground.

The following morning the march was resumed, but some of the men had become too weak to walk and these were conveyed in the canoes. They now came to a stretch of land where the difficulties of wading were enhanced by the presence of thick bushes. This was passed after wearisome effort, but nightfall of the twenty-second found them still six miles from the fort. Most of the men had clearly approached the limits of their endurance, and it required all the encouragement of the leader to keep them up. In this he was materially aided by “a little antic drummer,” as he calls him in his memoir of the expedition. This youngster seemed to have the most buoyant spirits and with his merry quips and pranks made the men laugh in the midst of their misery. One of the officers closes the entry in his diary for this day with the words: “No provisions yet. Lord help us!”

This night was bitterly cold. Half an inch of ice formed on the stagnant water. The miserable adventurers, with empty stomachs and drenched clothing, who cowered in the open, or moved about to keep their blood in circulation, suffered intensely. But the morning broke with a bright sun overhead, and with their leader’s assurance that the evening would see them at the goal for which they had striven so valiantly, the almost exhausted men steeled themselves to a final effort. And, indeed, they needed all the fortitude and determination that they could summon, for the final stage of the march proved to be the most trying of all.

Between the advancing force and Vincennes lay a broad sheet of water without as much as a hand’s-breadth of land visible. It was four miles across, and on the farther side of it lay dense woods. Clark once more exhorted his men in fiery words to exert their energies to the utmost. He then ordered one of the officers to the rear with a guard and instructions to shoot anyone who should refuse to go forward. Having provided this sinister rearguard, he assumed the lead and dashed into the water, which came up to the middle of his breast.

By the time they had reached the middle of the flooded plain, cold and exhaustion caused the weakest to faint. Their more hardy comrades held them in their arms until the canoes could take them on board and carry them to dry land. As long as they were able, men on the verge of collapse struggled on, those with a little superfluous strength lending a supporting hand or shoulder where it was sorely needed. Clark was unceasing in his efforts to animate the poor fellows. Constantly his voice came to them in cheery tones, joking, exhorting and praising. Not once by word or sign did he evince the least discouragement or the slightest thought of turning from his purpose.

When at length they reached the margin of this icy lake, the strongest had approached the limits of their powers of endurance. Many threw themselves down with their faces in the water, and but for the interference of their comrades would have allowed themselves to drown. Fires were immediately built and had hardly been started when a providential supply of meat was secured. A party of Indian squaws was captured in a canoe that proved to contain a large portion of the carcass of a buffalo. Cheered by this good fortune and revived by the food, the troops set out again in excellent spirits.

A short march brought them to a grove of trees, in which they halted. Before them, at a distance of two miles, stood the town and fort of Vincennes, the prize for which they had endured as much as mortal men might. In the middle ground lay a plain over which in different directions rode a number of creole hunters shooting ducks. Clark despatched a party which succeeded in capturing one of the sportsmen. From the prisoner Clark learned with some annoyance that a party of two hundred Indians were then in the town. This would make the armed force at the command of the British commandant four times the number of his own men. Still he determined to proceed without delay. He was particularly anxious to avoid killing any of the inhabitants or Indians, whose good-will he hoped to gain. He decided, therefore, not to rely upon the uncertain chance of a surprise but to make his advance openly and give notice of his intended attack. The creole was despatched to the town with a message to the inhabitants stating that if they observed strict neutrality and remained in their houses during the fighting, no harm would befall them.

At sundown Clark marched his men in regular ranks against Vincennes. As he had anticipated, the creole population offered no resistance and the town was occupied without any opposition. The proclamation had not only induced the inhabitants to passivity but had also caused the Indians, who were not in a fighting temper, to take their departure. One of the chiefs offered to support Clark with his band but the American leader declined the aid, saying that if the Indians would refrain from any interference he would ask no more of them.

During the night Clark took advantage of the darkness to throw up intrenchments against the fort, and at sunrise the garrison found the Americans in a strong position. Firing was at once commenced and maintained during the next few hours, with the result that six or seven of the defenders were killed, or wounded, while the attacking party suffered no loss. Before midday Clark sent forward a flag of truce with a demand upon the fort to surrender. His troops took advantage of the short lull in hostilities to eat a hearty breakfast, which was the first sufficient meal any of them had enjoyed in six days.

Hamilton refused to capitulate but proposed a truce for three days. This proposition Clark, of course, instantly rejected and hostilities were resumed. After further losses on the side of the British it became apparent that the Detroit militia were weakening, although the regulars held firm. At the approach of evening Hamilton proposed a meeting of the respective commanders, and they accordingly repaired to an old French church in the vicinity. After considerable discussion, Hamilton agreed that his garrison of seventy-nine men should surrender as prisoners of war.

This was a most notable achievement. Clark had without the loss of a man taken a strong fort defended by trained soldiers and protected by cannon. It was also highly important in its results, for it assured to the infant republic a large territory and saved the Kentuckians from an attack which would surely have overwhelmed them. In the contemplation of the exploits of the Revolutionary heroes this splendid performance of the “Hannibal of the West” is too frequently overlooked or not properly appreciated.

Clark sent Hamilton and a score or more of the prisoners to Virginia. The remainder he paroled. Reinforcements soon arrived and strong garrisons were placed in the captured posts. The Indians were placated and in many cases friendly relations were established with them. They soon learned to have the greatest confidence in Clark, and up to the time of his death he exercised an influence over them to which few other white men attained.