One evening in May, after a visit to this man, where Cutler had been alone, he came home in great haste, and suddenly announced to Margaret his intention to “sell out,” and move further westward! His unhappy victim supposed she knew but too well the meaning of this new movement: she asked no questions, but, with a sigh of weariness, assented. On the following day, he commenced hastily disposing of his “store,” his stock, his cabin—everything, in fact, save a few farming utensils, his furniture, and a pair of horses. It was observed—for there were many eyes upon him—that he never ventured out after twilight, and, even in the broad sunshine, would not travel far, alone or unarmed. In such haste did he seem, that he sold many of his goods at, what his friends considered, a ruinous sacrifice. The fame of great bargains brought many people to his counter, so that, within ten days, his arrangements were complete; and, much to the satisfaction of his neighbors, he set out toward the river.
Two of his associates accompanied him on his journey—a precaution for which he would give no reason, except that he wished to converse with them on the way. He crossed the Illinois near the mouth of the Mauvaisterre, and, turning northward, in the evening reached a cabin on the banks of M'Kee's creek, not more than ten miles from his late residence. This house had been abandoned by its former occupant, on account of the forays of the Indians; but was now partially refitted, as for a temporary abode. Here, the people about “the grove” were surprised to learn, a few days after Cutler's departure, that he had halted with the apparent intention to remain, at least for some time.
Their surprise was dissipated, however, within a very few weeks. The old gentleman, spoken of above, had left home upon a visit to Saint Louis; and during his absence, his house had been entered, and robbed of a chest containing a large amount of money—while the family were intimidated by the threats of men disguised as savages.
This was the culmination of villany. The settlement was now thoroughly aroused; and, when one of these little communities was once in earnest, it might safely be predicted that something would be done!
The first step was to call “a meeting of the friends of law and order;” but no proclamation was issued, no handbills were circulated, no notices posted: not the least noise was made about the matter, lest those against whom it was to act, might hear of and prepare for it. They came together quietly but speedily—each man, as he heard of the appointment, going forthwith to his neighbor with the news. They assembled at a central point, where none need be late in coming, and immediately proceeded to business. The meeting was not altogether a formal one—for purposes prescribed by law—but it was a characteristic of those men, to do everything “decently and in order”—to give all their proceedings the sanction and solemnity of mature deliberation. They organized the assemblage regularly—calling one of the oldest and most respectable of their number “to the chair” (which, on this occasion, happened to be the root of a large oak), and appointing a younger man secretary (though they gave him no desk on which to write). There was no man there who did not fully understand what had brought them together; but one who lived in the “bottom,” and had been the mover of the organization, was still called upon to “explain the object of the meeting.” This he did in a few pointed sentences, concluding with these significant words: “My friends, it is time that these rascals were punished, and it is our duty to punish them.”
He sat down, and a silence of some moments ensued, when another arose, and, without any preliminary remarks, moved that “a company of regulators be now organized, and that they be charged with the duty of seeing the law administered.” The motion was seconded by half a dozen voices—the question was put in due form by the chairman, and decided unanimously in the affirmative.
A piece of paper was produced, and the presiding officer called on the meeting for volunteers. Ten young men stepped forward, and gave their names as rapidly as the secretary could enrol them. In less than five minutes, the company was complete—the chairman and four of the meeting, as a committee, were directed to retire with the volunteers, and see that they were fully organized—and the meeting adjourned. All, except the volunteers and the committee, went directly home—satisfied that the matter needed no further attention. Those who remained entered the house and proceeded to organize in the usual manner.
A “compact” was drawn up, by the terms of which the regulators bound themselves to each other, and to their neighbors, to ferret out and punish the perpetrators of the offences, which had recently disturbed the peace of the settlement, and to rid the country of such villains as were obnoxious to the friends of law and order. This was then signed by the volunteers as principals, and by the committee, as witnesses; and was placed in the hands of the chairman of the meeting for safekeeping. It is said to be still in existence, though I have never seen it, and do not know where it is to be found.
When this arrangement was completed, the committee retired, and the company repaired to the woods, to choose a leader. They were not long in selecting a certain Major B——, who had, for some weeks, made himself conspicuous, by his loud denunciations of Cutler and his associates, and his zealous advocacy of “strong measures.” They had—one or two of them, at least—some misgivings about this appointment; for the major was inclined to be a blusterer, and the courage of these men was eminently silent. But after a few minutes' discussion, the matter was decided, and the leader was chosen without opposition. They at once dispersed, to make arrangements for the performance of their duties—having first appointed an hour and a place of meeting. They were to assemble at sunset on the same day, at the point where the state road now crosses the “bluff;” and were to proceed thence, without delay, to Cutler's house on M'Kee's creek, a distance of little more than eight miles. There they were to search for the stolen property, and whether they found it or not, were resolved to notify Cutler to leave the country. But under no circumstances were they to take his life, unless it became necessary in self-defence.
The hour came, and with it, to the bluff, came all the regulators—save one. But that one was a very important personage—none other, indeed, than the redoubtable major, who was to head the party. The nine were there a considerable time before sunset, and waited patiently for their captain's arrival; though, already, there were whisperings from those who had been doubtful of him in the outset, that he would not keep his appointment. And these were right—for, though they waited long beyond the time, the absentee did not make his appearance. It was afterward ascertained that he excused himself upon the plea of sudden illness; but he was very well again on the following day, and his excuse was not received. The ridicule growing out of the affair, and his reduction from the rank of major to that of captain, in derision, finally drove him in disgrace from the country.