Stories of Later American History

by Wilbur F. Gordy

It was well that they did not know what awaited them, for they had yet a bitter experience to pass through. Almost all the way was under water, and as they went slowly on they often stepped into hollows where the water came up to their chins. But, guided by their bold leader, they pressed forward until they reached a hillock, where they spent the night.

During the long hours of this trying day Clark had kept up the spirits of his men in every way he could. In telling about it later, he said: “I received much help from a little antic drummer, a boy with such a fun-loving spirit that he made the men laugh, in spite of their weariness, at his pranks and jokes.”

On starting out again the next morning some were so weak and famished that they had to be taken in the canoes. Those who were strong enough to wade came to water too deep to walk through, and, painfully struggling, began to huddle together as if all hope had fled.

Then Clark had to do something to rouse them. Suddenly he blackened his face with gunpowder and, sounding the war-whoop like an Indian brave, fearlessly sprang forward. His men plunged in after him without a word.

By dusk they were still six miles from Vincennes. Their clothing was drenched, their muscles ached with weariness, and they were well-nigh exhausted from lack of food. To make matters worse, the weather that day was bitterly cold. Yet the worst experience of the whole trying march was to come.

For before them stretched a shallow lake, four miles in extent. With something like a score of the strongest men just behind him, Clark plunged into the ice-cold water, breast-deep. When they had gone about half-way across some of them were so cold and weak that they could not take another step. So the canoes were kept busy rescuing them and getting them to land.

Those who, though weak, were still able to keep their feet, clung to the strong and plodded forward. When they had finally reached the woods bordering the farther side of the lake, they had not strength enough to pull themselves out, but clung desperately to the bushes and logs on the shore until the canoes could pick them up.

On reaching land some were so exhausted that they fell upon the ground with their faces half buried in the water. But the stronger ones built fires and fed them broth made from some venison they had taken from squaws in an Indian canoe which happened along. With food and warmth courage returned.

In the afternoon they set out again. After crossing a narrow lake in the canoes and marching a short distance, they reached a tree-covered spot from which they could see the town and the fort. There they made a stop and, hidden by the trees, made ready for the attack.

There was some fighting that night, and it was continued the next day. Then Clark demanded the surrender of the fort. Hamilton at first refused, but, as he had only a small number of men, he had to give up both fort and garrison. He himself was sent a prisoner to Virginia.