Chapter X

CAPTURE OF VINCENNES

From their camp the men could see the hundred cabins making up the town of Vincennes, and Fort Sackville over which the Union Jack was flying. If settlers in Vincennes turned toward Warrior’s Island, they could see American soldiers; so George Rogers Clark employed a trick of war to make them think he commanded a large army.

While the men were resting after their taste of buffalo stew, two more of Clark’s scouts came into camp bringing a very frightened Frenchman from Vincennes. They said they had found him lurking near the camp. Willie and Jim had been sitting near the colonel and could hear everything he said to the Frenchman.

Clark spoke sternly to the man cowering in front of him. “I will permit you to go into town under certain conditions. First you are to alert all French inhabitants and tell them we will take Vincennes tonight. They are to stay in their houses, keep quiet and not to let any one at Fort Sackville know of our presence. Oh, yes, and tell them to have a fine supper ready for us.”

“Yes, sir,” the man replied. “And to think you’ve marched all the way from Kentucky!”

Clark did not correct the man’s guess about Kentucky. He merely said, “Now you may go, but do not go near the fort.” As the Frenchman hurried to Vincennes to deliver his message, Colonel Clark watched through his field glass to see that he did not go to the fort.

About sunset Clark ordered his army to assemble. When they were in their respective companies, with Jim and Willie in front, Colonel Clark said, “I ask just one thing of all of you—OBEDIENCE. Absolute OBEDIENCE.”

“Yes, sir,” every man replied.

Clark turned to Jim and Willie. “You boys bring out the flags which we brought from Kaskaskia. We have good use for them now.”

The boys went over to the small stock of supplies they had succeeded in bringing through the water, and took out the flags. These had been so well packed they were not even damp. There were twenty-four in all.

“Each officer is to have a pair of flags mounted on poles,” Clark said.

The officers mounted several flags as Clark had directed. Willie and Jim wondered what they would do with the rest.

“See that small hill between us and the town?” Clark pointed to a hill about halfway to Vincennes. “You are to march your men around and around that hill, every sixth man carrying a flag so far as possible. Thus you will give the effect of many divisions, each carrying its flag, to anyone watching from Vincennes. When I give the order, you march around that hill until dark. Then I will issue your orders for the night.”

Colonel Clark led the line of march, followed by Willie Watson with the drum, Jim Hudson, Captain McCarty and the first of the color bearers. They marched around and around the hill in plain view of the townspeople. Should anyone be watching, he might easily assume that George Rogers Clark had at least a thousand men at his command.

Finally night fell. Tension was mounting among the men. Now, now was the time for attack. How many men did Hamilton have? Had this army come all through the drowned lands to suffer defeat? Never, while they drew breath.

Such thoughts were in the mind of every man when Colonel Clark suddenly snapped them to attention.

“Lieutenant Baily,” he ordered, “take fourteen of your best men and begin firing on the fort as soon as we have reached Vincennes. Then cease firing for a few minutes and laugh loudly as though you were firing for amusement.”

The lieutenant stepped forward and called out fourteen men.

Colonel Clark went on. “I will lead the rest of this army to the heights behind Vincennes and enter the upper part of town. The sentinels on the stockade walls won’t be able to see us, because part of the town lies between our line of march and their garrison.”

Then he set out with the main army toward Vincennes, while Lieutenant Baily marched his fourteen men toward the stockade.

Jim and Willie, marching with the main army, became so excited they could scarcely set one foot after the other. In no time at all Clark’s army took possession of the main street and posted guards. Scarcely anyone was in sight because of Clark’s order for the people to remain in their houses. Jim was assigned to guard duty; Willie went with Colonel Clark on his rounds through the town.

In a little while Willie came hurrying back to Jim. “Jim,” he cried. “The people have supper ready for us. We’re going to take turns eating. Colonel Clark said he’d send a man to relieve you shortly, and you’re to come with me.”

Just at this moment there was a burst of rifle fire, then the sound of raucous laughter.

“Our men have begun the attack, Willie,” Jim cried, peering into the black night. “We’ll soon take Vincennes and the fort.”

There was, however, no answering fire from the fort. In a few minutes another volley of shots rent the air.

“Let’s go nearer to the fort, Jim, and see what’s going on.”

Jim shook his head. “I can’t, Willie. I’m on guard here, remember.”

After another burst of fire by the Americans, there was a sudden, answering roar from the guns inside the fort.

Just at this moment Colonel Clark appeared with a man to relieve Jim. “You boys eat your supper. Report back here when you’ve finished, Jim,” Clark said, and went on to direct the firing which was now continuous.

“Come on, Jim. I know where we’re supposed to go.” Willie led the way to one of the villagers’ homes, where seven or eight soldiers were just finishing their meal.

“Come in, boys,” called a rosy-cheeked woman. “There is plenty of food for all of you.”

The boys sat down to a bountiful dinner of roast duck, the best meal they had eaten since their buffalo feast many days ago. While they were eating, the woman kept staring at Jim. Finally she said, “Soldier, have I seen you before? There’s something very familiar about your face.”

Jim looked blankly at her. “I don’t know, ma’am. I don’t recall ever having seen you.”

Still she looked at him. “It’s sure queer. You remind me of someone. I can’t quite figure—say, what’s your name? Mine’s Jeanne Duval.”

Jim smiled. “Sometimes I’m called Jim Long-Knife. The Indians gave me that name. But my real name’s Jim Hudson.”

“Hudson!” Jeanne exclaimed, her voice shrill with excitement. “And where’s your home?”

Jim shook his head. “I haven’t any home now except with Colonel Clark. I used to live in Kentucky.”

“Kentucky, you say. I wonder if you—”

The roar of cannon from Fort Sackville cut off her words. Jim and Willie jumped up. “Thank you, ma’am, for the good dinner. We can fight better now,” Jim said, as they started out the door.

“When the fighting’s over, come back here, Jim. Come back for sure.”

“All right,” Jim replied, “if I’m alive.”

The boys made their way back to Jim’s post and found it in the thick of the fighting. American soldiers were pouring the hottest fire possible into the fort.

“Look, Willie,” Jim said as he got his rifle ready, “look at those gaps in the stockade.”

Just then the British poked an artillery piece out of a porthole, while the Americans sent a shower of well-directed balls into it.

“Hurrah!” cried Willie, “got some British that time.”

The intense firing from both sides went on until about four o’clock in the morning. Then Colonel Clark withdrew all his troops save a few observation parties, and the firing ceased.

About nine o’clock George Rogers Clark sent a flag of truce into the fort with a message to Hamilton asking him to surrender immediately. This Hamilton refused to do and the firing began anew. But three hours later Hamilton sent out a flag asking for a three-days’ truce. Clark refused, but offered to have a conference with Hamilton in the church at once.

While Clark waited for his answer, everyone outside the fort, French and Americans alike, watched the fort gate to see what would happen. Willie and Jim were in the front row, waiting as impatiently as the rest.

“Jim!” Willie cried. “Look! The gate is opening.”

And indeed it was. Out came a dignified man in the striking red uniform of a British colonel of regulars, a handsome Indian and a grinning American.

“That man in red must be Hamilton himself,” Willie whispered.

“And there’s Captain Helm!” exclaimed Jim. “You know he’s been Hamilton’s prisoner since last December.”

The three men walked on to the church. There they were met by George Rogers Clark and Captain Bowman. All of them went into the church to hold their conference.

The villagers all began talking at once, wondering what would happen next. The American soldiers relaxed a little, but still held their rifles.

As Willie and Jim started to walk up the street, a woman ran out from the crowd calling to them. “Boys! Jim Hudson.”

Jim turned and recognized Jeanne Duval. She was calling and beckoning to him. “Come with me, Jim. To my house.” She nodded toward Willie. “You may come too, lad.”

“I can only stay a minute, ma’am,” Jim replied, glancing back at the church. “Colonel Clark might want me.”

“All right. Just come on.” She hurried on ahead and rushed into her house. When the boys appeared she said, “Sit down a minute. I’ll be right back.” Then she disappeared out the back door.

Willie shook his head. “What kind of business is this, Jim? Do you suppose it’s a trap?”

Jim laughed. “I don’t think so, Willie. After all we aren’t such important people in Clark’s army. She’s probably going to feed us again.”

In a few moments she returned with a thin, tired-looking blond woman. Jim stared at her for an instant, then rushed over and swept her into his arms. “Ma! Ma!” he cried. “At last! I’d almost given up hope of finding you.”

Ma Hudson was laughing and crying at the same time. “Jim, how you’ve grown! Why, you’re a man! Jim dear, we knew you were alive and well in Kaskaskia. Captain Helm told Pa.”

“Captain Helm? But he’s a prisoner of Hamilton. And where is Pa?”

Ma looked worried. “I hope he’s still alive in the fort. Pa and I are also Hamilton’s prisoners. Pa’s probably had to man the guns against the Americans.”

“Against his own countrymen!” Jim gasped. “How do you happen to be outside the fort?”

Ma shrugged her thin shoulders. “Since there wasn’t any place for women in the fort, the British put me in one of the French homes here. And the people have been good to me.” She smiled at Jeanne Duval.

“She’s been staying right next door,” Jeanne explained. “That’s why I was so excited last night when I saw you. You look so much like your ma, and when you told me your name, I was sure you were her boy.”

“How did you get away from the Shawnees and reach Vincennes, Ma?”

Ma Hudson sighed. “We didn’t get away from them, Jim. I think they intended to take us up north to Hamilton, but the snows came and they weren’t able to get through to Detroit. It was a rugged winter, with not much to eat.”

Jim frowned. “How did you and Pa get down here?”

“Last autumn the Shawnees heard Hamilton was marching south, so they rode to meet him and traded us for some guns and blankets. Hamilton brought us down here with other prisoners. I’ve been mending for Hamilton’s soldiers and sewing some for the people here. Your pa has been helping repair the fort.”

Jim had forgotten all about Willie while talking with his mother. Suddenly he remembered him and said, “Ma, this is my best friend, Willie Watson. He’s from Kaskaskia.”

Ma smiled at Willie. “I’m glad to know you, Willie. You must have wonderful people in Kaskaskia, because Jim looks so well.”

“The same to you, ma’am,” stammered Willie, bobbing his head.

“We’d better be getting back now, Ma,” Jim said. “I’ll see you when Hamilton surrenders. Don’t worry about Pa. I’m sure he’s all right and will be free as soon as Colonel Clark takes over here.” Jim turned to Jeanne Duval. “Thank you, ma’am, for all you’ve done for Ma and me.”

When the boys returned to the American lines, the conference was over. No one was certain, however, that Hamilton would agree to the surrender terms. Colonel Clark took no chances of deception by the British; he posted guards in houses near the fort and patrols in town. The rest of his army slept on their rifles and got their first real rest in many days.

The next day, February 25, 1779, Hamilton sent Captain Helm to Colonel Clark with the signed articles of surrender. George Rogers Clark then drew up his army in two lines facing each other in front of Fort Sackville to await Hamilton. All of Vincennes gathered behind the American army to see the surrender.

Promptly at ten o’clock the wooden fort gate opened, and Lieutenant-Governor Hamilton led his well-drilled, scarlet-clad regulars of the King’s regiment between the lines of the ragged American soldiers. Captain Helm, amidst loud hurrahs from the crowd, hoisted the American flag above Fort Sackville. Fort Sackville and Vincennes were now in American hands, never to be surrendered again.

Hamilton’s prisoners of war were also turned over to Colonel Clark, among them Pa Hudson. When Jim spied him in the group, he forgot all about his duty as a soldier and rushed over to throw his arms around his father.

“Pa,” he cried, “I knew I’d find you sometime.”

His father hugged him hard. “Ma and I knew from Captain Helm that you were safe in Kaskaskia, but we didn’t know when we could get to you.”

When the celebrations and ceremonies of surrender were over, George Rogers Clark dispatched a detail to Virginia with Hamilton, his prisoner of war, and sent home the French who had accompanied the British leader from Detroit.

Then Clark looked over the stores and supplies in the fort. In them he found much clothing which had been sent from Detroit for the British troops. From this supply every man in Clark’s army received new shirts, caps, vests and trousers. These were most welcome gifts because the men wanted to be presentable when they returned in triumph to Kaskaskia.

The Indians near Vincennes must have heard about Clark’s gifts, because early one morning several of them came to the fort to receive presents from Chief Long-Knife. Jim was helping to distribute these when he recognized Wahbunou in the group.

“Here’s Wahbunou, Colonel Clark,” he said as the Indian boy approached them.

Colonel Clark smiled and extended his hand to Wahbunou. “You’ve come to be paid for that buffalo meat and corn, I suppose. Well, boy, I’m glad to pay you. They saved our lives and made it possible for us to take Vincennes.” The colonel himself looked through the supplies and brought out two magnificent blankets. “Can you use these blankets, Wahbunou?”

Wahbunou’s eyes shone as he took the blankets. “These are very good, Chief Long-Knife. I have been paid plenty. I am glad my people could help Jim’s people. Jim is my friend.”

Jim took Wahbunou to one side. “My parents are here, Wahbunou,” he said. “They were Hamilton’s prisoners, but now they are free. Won’t you stop and see them?”

Wahbunou beamed. “I’m glad you are with them. I can’t stop now, but Wahbunou will see your mother when he comes to Vincennes again soon. Your mother was very kind to me.” Then he turned and went back to the other Indians.

Before Colonel Clark led his men back to Kaskaskia, he took Willie Watson to make a call on the Hudsons. Pa Hudson wanted to return to his farm in Kentucky and asked Colonel Clark if he would advise going.

Clark was silent for a few minutes, then shook his head. “Not yet, Hudson. Why don’t you stay here until summer? If everything is favorable then, you and your family can return to Kentucky. I’ll be back in June as we intend to march on Detroit.” Then he turned to shake hands with Jim.

“You’ve been a good soldier, Jim Long-Knife. They don’t come any better than you. I’ll say good-bye now and expect to see you when I return.”

Jim’s eyes misted as he said, “Thanks for everything, Colonel. I’ve learned a lot from you.”

Willie had been unusually silent during the call. Now he said, “Good-bye, Jim. Take care of yourself. I’ll miss you more——” his voice broke and he could not finish what he wanted to say.

Jim clapped Willie’s shoulder affectionately. “Good-bye, Willie. You stay with Colonel Clark and the Long-Knives and you’ll be all right. See you in June.”

_Jim Long-Knife_

_By_ FLORANCE WALTON TAYLOR

_Illustrated by_ DIRK GRINGHUIS

Boys and girls living at the time of our War of Independence, took an active part in that struggle. Out West, they not only fought the British, but the Indians as well. Kaskaskia and Vincennes were not just towns, but stood for hard battle and hard won victory.

Jim Hudson, named Jim Long-Knife by Chief Minnemung is a pioneer boy living in Kentucky. How he is separated from his parents, how he lives with the Indians, and how he fights alongside George Rogers Clark, is a story filled with suspense and courage. Jim has good friends, including the Indian boy Wahbunou, but it is his drum that, many times, keeps him from danger.

_Shemolsea_—Long-Knife is an important part of early western history—and Jim helped make it so.

Transcriber’s Notes

--Silently corrected a few typos.

--Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook is public-domain in the country of publication.

--In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by _underscores_.