The Cahokians readily followed the lead of the Kaskaskians in submitting to Clark's rule; so, too, did the inhabitants of Vincennes, to whom Father Gibault went as an emissary of Clark. Thus far Clark's success had been unchecked; as far as the French settlers were concerned, the British power had crumbled. But the Indians were still to be reckoned with, and the British at Detroit to be heard from, and Clark's resources were pitifully inadequate for the task in hand. Even a large part of his Virginia troops abandoned him on the expiration of their term of enlistment. With such as consented to remain, augmented by enlistments on the part of the French whom he had come to conquer, Clark maintained his position throughout the winter. None knew better than he how to combine in the right proportions terrible energy, braggadocio, tact, and cajolery. Friendly relations were established with De Leyba, the Spanish commander at St. Louis. The Indians were handled so adroitly that an "Amazeing number" flocked in from five hundred miles around to treat for peace and learn the will of the Big Knife Chief.
Meanwhile on August 6, 1778, the news had come to Hamilton at Detroit of the capture of Kaskaskia, and he promptly began preparations for the recovery of the posts that had been lost.[187] On October 7 he set out from Detroit by boat with nearly two hundred whites, chiefly volunteers, and three hundred Indians. The destination was Vincennes, and the route followed led up the Maumee and down the Wabash River. Although expedition was all-important, the progress made was tedious and slow. Not until December 17 was Vincennes reached. On the news of Hamilton's approach the French militia of Captain Helm, Clark's representative, deserted him. Again, as in the case of the capture of Kaskaskia by Clark, a melodramatic tale is told of the capture of the fort. Helm, with his garrison dwindled to a single man, is represented as standing, lighted match in hand, by a well-charged cannon which he has placed in the fort gate, halting the British force, and surrendering with the honors of war. The story is without adequate historical foundation and may properly be dismissed as a pleasing bit of fiction.
[187] For Hamilton's own narrative of his course see Michigan Pioneer Collections, IX, 489 ff. His correspondence is printed in Illinois Historical Collections, I, 330 ff.
Although Vincennes surrendered without resistance, the delays which had been encountered proved fatal to Hamilton's project. If he had pushed on to Kaskaskia at once it seems certain that Clark must have succumbed. But winter having now arrived, Hamilton decided to remain at Vincennes until spring, when he would not only retake the Illinois settlements but turn the tables on the invaders by sweeping the Americans from Kentucky.
Pending the arrival of spring, the greater part of Hamilton's force was dispersed. Not until the last of January did full news of the situation at Vincennes and the projected vernal attack upon Kaskaskia come to Clark. As soon as he had quelled the panic which the tidings caused among the Kaskaskians, he projected a counter-assault upon Vincennes. An armed galley was sent around by water, down the Mississippi and up the Ohio and the Wabash to a point ten leagues below Vincennes, where it was to await the arrival of Clark, who, meanwhile, would lead a force overland across Illinois. The story of the difficulties encountered and vanquished on the march of this little force across the Illinois swamps and prairies surpasses many a flight of fiction. It was February and a thaw that had set in had flooded the lowlands and driven away the game. To the fatigues and discomforts of wading swollen rivers and marching through boggy and oftentimes "drowned" land in midwinter were added the pangs of hunger. The last stage necessitated the crossing of miles of bottom land overflowed to the depth of three feet and upward by the swollen waters of the rivers. Here the sufferings of the party were such that Clark avers that the bare recital of them would be "too incredible for any Person to believe except those that are well acquainted with me."
It had been Clark's purpose to take the garrison by surprise but on learning from some villagers whom he captured that the force of British and French largely outnumbered his own, and that the villagers were not ill-disposed toward the Americans, he changed his plan. Fearing that in the fight that would doubtless ensue some of the French and Indians would be slain and that this would embitter the rest, he determined to bluff the garrison and the town into a surrender. Halting his little army in sight of the town, but concealed from the view of the garrison, he sent a menacing letter ahead, designed to awe the townsmen into submission. At nightfall, with the garrison still ignorant of his approach, Clark's men moved into the village. The Creoles greeted them with enthusiasm, and the fickle Indians, who made up the larger portion of Hamilton's force, either offered to join Clark or drew aside to await the issue of the contest between the palefaces.
The British had been attracted by the commotion and the discharge of guns, but not until a sergeant received a bullet in the breast did they know whether to attribute the cause to some jollification or to the arrival of the "Virginians." Throughout the night and early morning Clark's riflemen harassed the garrison. About eight o'clock, while his men stopped for breakfast, a summons to surrender was dispatched to Hamilton. It was received by the garrison with mingled feelings of defiance and despair. According to Hamilton, the British assured him they would stick to him "as the shirt to my back," while the French "hung their heads." The firing was resumed, but later in the day Hamilton agreed to surrender. The next morning, February 25, 1779, the fort changed hands and name as well, for the Americans now christened it Fort Patrick Henry, in honor of the governor of Virginia.
Clark's ultimate goal was the capture of Detroit, but with his small force and scanty supplies he could not at once move forward. While waiting for reinforcements he applied himself vigorously to the work of governing his newly won territory, establishing satisfactory relations with the Indians, and preparing the way for the greater exploit which he was destined never to perform. To this work the ensuing spring and summer were devoted.
Meanwhile certain events were taking place in the region west of Lake Michigan and the vicinity of Chicago which now demand our attention. When Hamilton began preparations for his expedition in the autumn of 1778, he sent word to De Peyster, who commanded at Mackinac, to raise the Indians tributary to that post and co-operate with him by an expedition down the Illinois River.[188] Many of the Indians who frequented Mackinac had dispersed, however, and the lateness of the season rendered those who could be reached indisposed to engage in such an enterprise. Nevertheless De Peyster, whom Winsor describes as "a somewhat rattle-brained person, given to writing illiterate letters, but in some ways an enterprising and prudent commander,"[189] did what he could. He sent Langlade, the man who had destroyed Pickawillany in 1752, to the Ottawas and Chippewas in Michigan, and Gautier to the Pottawatomies of St. Joseph, to lead them to Hamilton's assistance. At the same time he suggested to Haldimand the project of sending an Indian party from Green Bay by way of the Fox-Wisconsin route and the Mississippi, directly against the Illinois posts. The Grand River Indians declined to start until spring, and Gautier did not reach St. Joseph until December. What few Pottawatomies could then be raised were taken on by Louis Chevalier, a trader who resided among them; Langlade returned to Green Bay and Gautier to his station on the Mississippi, carrying speeches and belts to exhort the Indians to be ready for an expedition in the spring.[190]
[188] Illinois Historical Collections, I, 364.