Canada at that time extended to the Ohio river on the south and to the Mississippi on the west. There was not yet any map bearing the name of the Empire state of the West. There was only a tribe of Indians inhabiting a portion of the immense Northwest named the “Illini,” that had its name given to the territory at the dividing up. Beyond the Mississippi was Spanish territory.
Under the French and Spanish systems of colonization at that date, Indian missions, military posts and towns went together. Old Kaskaskia, in what is now Randolph county, was the first seat of civilization in the great Mississippi basin, and was for a time the capital of the territory. Here many stirring events took place for many eventful years. In addition to a mission and a fort near by, it was made of greater importance with a legislature.
Pere Marquette, the apostle of several states, laid its foundation in the year 1675, one hundred years before the breaking out of the war for American independence. Here savages and whites commingled. Also, the soldiers of France, Great Britain and America. And wherever there are soldiers there is to be found the ubiquitous Irishman. There was to be found French contentment, savage resentment and pioneer endurance. Vincennes, Pittsburg and Detroit were its nearest neighbors on the great Western expanse. But, like the sites of Tyre and Sidon, famous in ancient history, it exists no more, the encroaching waters of the Mississippi having washed it away and made it a memory.
After the capitulation of Quebec in 1763 the British claimed ownership of the whole of the French territory known as Canada, and prepared to garrison all the forts the French had erected, including Detroit, Peoria, Vincennes, Chartres, Cahokia, Kaskaskia, etc. The last-named three were situated on the Mississippi river, and somewhat contiguous.
On the 27th day of February, 1764, a Major Loftus of the British army, then on duty in Florida, was ordered to proceed to Fort Chartres and take possession of it. His name indicates his Irish origin, but if there be any mistake in this, there certainly was not in his soldiers. They were of the Twenty-second British regiment, and were mostly Irishmen. Here, then, was presented the peculiar spectacle of one Irish commander in the service of a country not his own being required to evacuate his command to another Irishman in the service of a different country not his own. It reminds the writer somewhat of the siege of Quebec by Richard Montgomery, an Irishman in the service of the United States, when he asked its British commander, Sir Guy Carleton, another Irishman, and an old schoolmate, to surrender to the Continental Congress. But Major Loftus was not fortunate any more than General Montgomery. On the way he and his command were attacked by the Indians, who killed many of the soldiers, the remainder escaping down the Mississippi. Thus was the first Irish blood spilled in the Mississippi valley.
Then another Irish officer, also in the British service, named George Croghan, was ordered by Governor Murray to go forward and secure the desired possession. Croghan had been quite a conspicuous figure in the British interest in those days in America. He ranked as major, and had been for many years a trader among the Western Indians. Hardly another white man was in the prairie country before him. In describing the country afterwards, he said it looked like an ocean. The ground was exceedingly rich and full of all kinds of game, and at any time, in half an hour, he could kill all he wanted. He was commanded to go from Fort Pitt to make the way clear for the British advance to Forts Cahokia and Chartres. It was not the French alone that were to be considered, but the Indian chieftains as well. He first sent forward a Lieutenant Fraser to see the way clear, but the latter received rough treatment at Kaskaskia and returned unsuccessful.
It was said that Chief Pontiac was egged on to kill him, but he escaped without serious injury. Then Colonel Croghan, who was also a British deputy superintendent of Indian affairs, went forward himself. He left Fort Pitt (now Pittsburg) on May 15, 1765, accompanied by a party of friendly Indians. His progress was uninterrupted until he arrived at a small promontory on the Wabash, where he disembarked. On June 8, six miles below the stream he was suddenly attacked by a band of Kickapoos, eighty in number. In the fight which followed Croghan lost two white men and three Indians, while most of his party, including himself, were wounded. A surrender was unavoidable, and the victorious Kickapoos plundered the entire party. Subsequently the Indians confessed they had made a great mistake, and expressed sorrow for what had happened. They supposed, they said, that the friendly Indians accompanying Croghan were their deadly enemies, the Cherokees. They brought their prisoners in safety to Vincennes on the Wabash, where the Indians, many of whom had friendly acquaintance with Croghan, strongly condemned the Kickapoos, and the latter in turn expressed deep sorrow for what they persisted in calling a blunder.
Further on the way he received a message from St. Ange, the late French commander, cordially inviting him to advance to Fort Chartres. He had proceeded but a short distance on his way, however, when he was met by a delegation of chiefs, representing various tribes of Indians, among whom was the hitherto implacable Pontiac, the great warrior, at the head of a large band of Ottawa braves, offering their services as an escort. At this juncture, and under this condition of things, Croghan did not deem it necessary to proceed further in person, the British claim to the territory being acknowledged by both French and Indians. This happy result showed that the Irishman must have used his diplomatic powers to excellent advantage. He then betook himself to Detroit to attend to other important business in the interest of his royal master, leaving his command in charge of another officer.
Accompanied by Pontiac, Croghan crossed to Fort Miami and, descending the Miami, held conferences with the different tribes dwelling in the immense forests which sheltered the banks of the stream. Passing thence up the Detroit, he arrived at the fort on the 17th of August, where he found a vast concourse of neighboring tribes. The fear of punishment and the long privations they had suffered from the suspension of their trade had banished every thought of hostility, and all were anxious for peace and its attendant blessings. After numerous interviews with the different tribes in the old town hall where Pontiac first essayed the execution of his treachery, Croghan called a final meeting on the 27th of August. Imitating the forest eloquence with which he had long been familiar, he thus addressed the convention:
“Children, we are very glad to see so many of you present at your ancient council fire, which has been neglected for some time past. Since then high winds have blown and raised heavy clouds over your country. I now by this belt rekindle your ancient fires and throw dry wood upon them that the blaze may ascend to heaven, so that all nations may see it and know that you live in peace with your fathers, the English. By this belt I disperse all the black clouds from over your heads that the sun may shine clear on your women and children, and that those unborn may enjoy the blessings of this general peace, now so happily settled between your fathers, the English, and you and all your younger brethren toward the sunsetting.”