Chapter 29

The firing immediately commenced on both sides with double vigor; and I believe that more noise could not have been made by the same number of men. Their shouts could not be heard for the fire-arms; but a continual blaze was kept around the garrison, without much being done, until about daybreak, when our troops were drawn off to posts prepared for them, about sixty or seventy yards from the fort. A loophole then could scarcely be darkened but a rifle-ball would pass through it. To have stood to their cannon would have destroyed their men, without a probability of doing much service. Our situation was nearly similar. It would have been imprudent in either party to have wasted their men, without some decisive stroke required it.

Thus the attack continued until about nine o'clock on the morning of the 24th. Learning that the two prisoners they had brought in the day before had a considerable number of letters with them, I supposed it an express that we expected about this time, which I knew to be of the greatest moment to us, as we had not received one since our arrival in the country; and, not being fully acquainted with the character of our enemy, we were doubtful that those papers might be destroyed, to prevent which I sent a flag [with a letter] demanding the garrison.[446-5]

* * * * *

The firing then commenced warmly for a considerable time; and we were obliged to be careful in preventing our men from exposing themselves too much, as they were now much animated, having been refreshed during the flag. They frequently mentioned their wishes to storm the place, and put an end to the business at once. The firing was heavy through every crack that could be discovered in any part of the fort. Several of the garrison got wounded, and no possibility of standing near the embrasures. Toward the evening a flag appeared with the following proposals:--

"Lieutenant-governor Hamilton proposes to Colonel Clark a truce for three days, during which time he promises there shall be no defensive works carried on in the garrison, on condition that Colonel Clark shall observe, on his part, a like cessation of any defensive work,--that is, he wishes to confer with Colonel Clark as soon as can be, and promises that whatever may pass between them two and another person mutually agreed upon to be present shall remain secret till matters be finished, as he wishes that, whatever the result of the conference may be, it may tend to the honor and credit of each party. If Colonel Clark makes a difficulty of coming into the fort, Lieutenant-governor Hamilton will speak to him by the gate.

"(Signed) HENRY HAMILTON. "24th February, 1779."

I was at a great loss to conceive what reason Lieutenant-governor Hamilton could have for wishing a truce of three days on such terms as he proposed. Numbers said it was a scheme to get me into their possession. I had a different opinion and no idea of his possessing such sentiments, as an act of that kind would infallibly ruin him. Although we had the greatest reason to expect a reënforcement in less than three days, that would at once put an end to the siege, I yet did not think it prudent to agree to the proposals, and sent the following answer:--

"Colonel Clark's compliments to Lieutenant-governor Hamilton, and begs leave to inform him that he will not agree to any terms other than Mr. Hamilton's surrendering himself and garrison prisoners at discretion. If Mr. Hamilton is desirous of a conference with Colonel Clark, he will meet him at the church with Captain Helm.

"(Signed) G. R. C. "February 24th, 1779."

We met at the church, about eighty yards from the fort, Lieutenant-governor Hamilton, Major Hay, superintendent of Indian affairs, Captain Helm, their prisoner, Major Bowman, and myself. The conference began. Hamilton produced terms of capitulation, signed, that contained various articles, one of which was that the garrison should be surrendered on their being permitted to go to Pensacola on parole. After deliberating on every article, I rejected the whole.

He then wished that I would make some proposition. I told him that I had no other to make than what I had already made,--that of his surrendering as prisoners at discretion. I said that his troops had behaved with spirit; that they could not suppose that they would be worse treated in consequence of it; that, if he chose to comply with the demand, though hard, perhaps the sooner the better; that it was in vain to make any proposition to me; that he, by this time, must be sensible that the garrison would fall; that both of us must [view?] all blood spilt for the future by the garrison as murder; that my troops were already impatient, and called aloud for permission to tear down and storm the fort. If such a step was taken, many, of course, would be cut down; and the result of an enraged body of woodsmen breaking in must be obvious to him. It would be out of the power of an American officer to save a single man.

Various altercation took place for a considerable time. Captain Helm attempted to moderate our fixed determination. I told him he was a British prisoner; and it was doubtful whether or not he could, with propriety, speak on the subject. Hamilton then said that Captain Helm was from that moment liberated, and might use his pleasure. I informed the Captain that I would not receive him on such terms; that he must return to the garrison, and await his fate. I then told Lieutenant-governor Hamilton that hostilities should not commence until five minutes after the drums gave the alarm.

We took our leave, and parted but a few steps, when Hamilton stopped, and politely asked me if I would be so kind as to give him my reasons for refusing the garrison any other terms than those I had offered. I told him I had no objections in giving him my real reasons, which were simply these: that I knew the greater part of the principal Indian partisans of Detroit were with him; that I wanted an excuse to put them to death or otherwise treat them as I thought proper; that the cries of the widows and the fatherless on the frontiers, which they had occasioned, now required their blood from my hand; and that I did not choose to be so timorous as to disobey the absolute commands of their authority, which I looked upon to be next to divine; that I would rather lose fifty men than not to empower myself to execute this piece of business with propriety; that, if he chose to risk the massacre of his garrison for their sakes, it was his own pleasure; and that I might, perhaps, take it into my head to send for some of those widows to see it executed.

Major Hay paying great attention, I had observed a kind of distrust in his countenance, which in a great measure influenced my conversation during this time. On my concluding, "Pray, sir," said he, "who is it that you call Indian partisans?" "Sir," I replied, "I take Major Hay to be one of the principal." I never saw a man in the moment of execution so struck as he appeared to be,--pale and trembling, scarcely able to stand. Hamilton blushed, and, I observed, was much affected at his behavior. Major Bowman's countenance sufficiently explained his disdain for the one and his sorrow for the other.

Some moments elapsed without a word passing on either side. From that moment my resolutions changed respecting Hamilton's situation. I told him that we would return to our respective posts; that I would reconsider the matter, and let him know the result. No offensive measures should be taken in the meantime. Agreed to; and we parted. What had passed being made known to our officers, it was agreed that we should moderate our resolutions.

That afternoon the following articles were signed and the garrison surrendered:

I. Lieutenant-governor Hamilton engages to deliver up to Colonel Clark, Fort Sackville, as it is at present, with all the stores, etc.

II. The garrison are to deliver themselves as prisoners of war, and march out with their arms and accoutrements, etc.

III. The garrison to be delivered up at ten o'clock tomorrow.

IV. Three days time to be allowed the garrison to settle their accounts with the inhabitants and traders of this place.

V. The officers of the garrison to be allowed their necessary baggage, etc.

Signed at Post St. Vincent (Vincennes), 24th of February, 1779.

Agreed for the following reasons: the remoteness from succor; the state and quantity of provisions, etc.; unanimity of officers and men in its expediency; the honorable terms allowed; and, lastly, the confidence in a generous enemy.

(Signed) HENRY HAMILTON, _Lieut.-Gov. and Superintendent._

* * * * *

The business being now nearly at an end, troops were posted in several strong houses around the garrison and patrolled during the night to prevent any deception that might be attempted. The remainder on duty lay on their arms, and for the first time for many days past got some rest.

During the siege, I got only one man wounded. Not being able to lose many, I made them secure themselves well. Seven were badly wounded in the fort through ports.

Almost every man had conceived a favorable opinion of Lieutenant-governor Hamilton,--I believe what affected myself made some impression on the whole; and I was happy to find that he never deviated, while he stayed with us, from that dignity of conduct that became an officer in his situation. The morning of the 25th approaching, arrangements were made for receiving the garrison [which consisted of seventy-nine men], and about ten o'clock it was delivered in form; and everything was immediately arranged to the best advantage.[452-7]

FOOTNOTES:

[428-1] The first permanent settlement in Indiana was made on the Wabash River 117 miles southwest of the present city of Indianapolis. On what was originally the location of a prominent Indian village, the French established a fort in 1702, and it was generally known as _The Post_. In 1736 the name of Vinsenne, an early commandant of the post, was applied to the little settlement, and this name later came to be written _Vincennes_, in its present form.

The English took the place in 1763; in 1778 the weak English garrison was driven out by the forerunners of George Rogers Clark, who from Kaskaskia sent Captain Helm to take charge. The same winter Captain Helm and the one soldier who constituted his garrison were compelled to surrender to the British General, Hamilton, who had come from Detroit to recapture the fort. It was in the following February that Clark made the final capture as told in these memoirs. Thereafter Vincennes belonged to Virginia, who ceded it to the United States in 1783. Vincennes was the capital of Indiana territory from 1801 to 1816.

[428-2] The selection is taken from General Clark's Memoirs.

[431-3] These were men from Vincennes whom Clark had taken from canoes and from whom he obtained much information, although it was not given with perfect willingness.

[437-4] It was said with some show of justice that General Hamilton had paid the Indians a bounty on the scalps of American settlers. His course in many ways had aroused the bitterest hatred among the colonists, and especially among the "Big Knives."

[446-5] The letter addressed to Lieutenant-governor Hamilton read as follows:

"SIR:--In order to save yourself from the impending storm that now threatens you, I order you immediately to surrender yourself, with all your garrison, stores, etc. For, if I am obliged to storm, you may depend on such treatment as is justly due to a murderer. Beware of destroying stores of any kind or any papers or letters that are in your possession, or hurting one house in town: for, by heavens! if you do, there shall be no mercy shown you.

(Signed) G. R. CLARK."

In reply the British officer sent the following:

"Lieutenant-governor Hamilton begs leave to acquaint Colonel Clark that he and his garrison are not disposed to be awed into any action unworthy British subjects."

[452-7] Clark was a man of action, not a scholar; and the errors of which his writings are full may well be overlooked, so full of interest is what he says. The selections above have been slightly changed, principally, however, in spelling and the use of capital letters.

Hamilton was sent in irons to Virginia and was kept in close confinement, at Williamsburg, till nearly the end of the Revolution. Washington wrote, as a reason for not exchanging the British prisoner, that he "had issued proclamations and approved of practices, which were marked with cruelty towards the people that fell into his hands, such as inciting the Indians to bring in scalps, putting prisoners in irons, and giving men up to be the victims of savage barbarity."

THREE SUNDAYS IN A WEEK

_Adapted from_ EDGAR A. POE

NOTE.--The ingeniousness of the idea in this story marks it as Poe's, though it lacks some of the characteristics which we expect to find in everything that came from the brain of that most unusual writer. Many of his poems and many of his most famous stories, such as _Ligeia_, _The Fall of the House of Usher_, _Eleanora_ and _The Masque of the Red Death_, have a fantastic horror about them which is scarcely to be found in the writings of any other man. _The Gold Bug_, which is included in Volume IX of this series is a characteristic example of another type of Poe's stories; it shows at its best his marvelous inventive power.

_Three Sundays in a Week_, as given here, has been abridged somewhat, though nothing that is essential to the story has been omitted.

"You hard-hearted, dunder-headed, obstinate, rusty, crusty, musty, fusty, old savage!" said I, in fancy, one afternoon, to my granduncle, Rumgudgeon, shaking my fist at him in imagination. Only in imagination. The fact is, some trivial difference did exist, just then, between what I said and what I had not the courage to say--between what I did and what I had half a mind to do.

The old porpoise, as I opened the drawing-room door, was sitting with his feet upon the mantelpiece, making strenuous efforts to accomplish a ditty.

"My _dear_ uncle," said I, closing the door gently and approaching him with the blandest of smiles, "you are always so very kind and considerate, and have evinced your benevolence in so many--so very many ways--that--that I feel I have only to suggest this little point to you once more to make sure of your full acquiescence."

"Hem!" said he, "good boy! go on!"

"I am sure, my dearest uncle (you confounded old rascal!) that you have no design really and seriously to oppose my union with Kate. This is merely a joke of yours, I know--ha! ha! ha!--how very pleasant you are at times."

"Ha! ha! ha!" said he, "curse you! yes!"

"To be sure--of course! I knew you were jesting. Now, uncle, all that Kate and myself wish at present, is that you would oblige us--as regards the _time_--you know, uncle--in short, when will it be most convenient for yourself that the wedding shall--shall come off, you know?"

"Come off, you scoundrel! what do you mean by that?--Better wait till it goes on."

"Ha! ha! ha!--he! he! he!--oh, that's good--oh, that's capital--such a wit! But all we want, just now, you know, uncle, is that you should indicate the time precisely."

"Ah!--precisely?"

"Yes, uncle--that is, if it would be quite agreeable to yourself."

"Wouldn't it answer, Bobby, if I were to leave it at random--sometime within a year or so, for example?--_must_ I say precisely?"

"_If_ you please, uncle--precisely."

"Well, then, Bobby, my boy--you're a fine fellow, aren't you?--since you _will_ have the exact time, I'll--why, I'll oblige you for once."

"Dear uncle!"

"Hush, sir!" (drowning my voice)--"I'll oblige you for once. You shall have my consent--and the _plum_, we mustn't forget the plum--let me see! When shall it be? To-day's Sunday--isn't it! Well, then, you shall be married precisely--_precisely_, now mind!--_when three Sundays come together in a week_! Do you hear me, sir! What are you gaping at? I say, you shall have Kate and her plum when three Sundays come together in a week--but not _till_ then--you young scapegrace--not _till_ then, if I die for it. You know me--_I'm a man of my word_--_now be off_!" Here he grinned at me viciously, and I rushed from the room in despair.

A very "fine old English gentleman" was my granduncle, Rumgudgeon, but, unlike him of the song, he had his weak points. He was a little, pursy, pompous, passionate, semi-circular somebody, with a red nose, a thick skull, a long purse, and a strong sense of his own consequence. With the best heart in the world, he contrived, through a predominate whim of contradiction, to earn for himself, among those who only knew him superficially, the character of a curmudgeon. Like many excellent people, he seemed possessed with a spirit of tantalization, which might easily, at a casual glance, be mistaken for malevolence. To every request, a positive "No!" was his immediate answer; but in the end--in the long, long end--there were exceedingly few requests which he refused. Against all attacks upon his purse he made the most sturdy defence; but the amount extorted from him at last, was generally in direct ratio with the length of the siege and the stubbornness of the resistance. In charity, no one gave more liberally, or with a worse grace.

For the fine arts, especially for the belles-lettres, he entertained a profound contempt. Thus my own inkling for the Muses had excited his entire displeasure. He assured me one day, when I asked him for a new copy of Horace, that the translation of "_Poeta nascitur, non fit_"[456-1] was "a nasty poet for nothing fit"--a remark which I took in high dudgeon. His repugnance to the "humanities" had, also, much increased of late, by an accidental bias in favor of what he supposed to be natural science. Somebody had accosted him in the street, mistaking him for a no less personage than Doctor Dubble L. Dee, the lecturer upon quack physics. This set him off at a tangent; and just at the epoch of this story, my granduncle, Rumgudgeon, was accessible and pacific only upon the points which happened to chime in with the hobby he was riding.

I had lived with the old gentleman all my life. My parents in dying had bequeathed me to him as a rich legacy. I believe the old villain loved me as his own child--nearly if not quite as well as he loved Kate--but it was a dog's existence that he led me after all. From my first year until my fifth, he obliged me with very regular floggings. From five to fifteen, he threatened me, hourly, with the House of Correction. From fifteen to twenty not a day passed in which he did not promise to cut me off with a shilling. I was a sad dog it is true, but then it was a part of my nature--a point of my faith.

In Kate, however, I had a firm friend, and I knew it. She was a good girl, and told me very sweetly that I might have her (plum and all) whenever I could badger my granduncle, Rumgudgeon, into the necessary consent. Poor girl! she was barely fifteen, and without this consent her little amount in the funds was not come-at-able until five immeasurable summers had "dragged their slow length along." What then to do? In vain we besieged the old gentleman with importunities. It would have stirred the indignation of Job himself to see how much like an old mouser he behaved to us two little mice. In his heart he wished for nothing more ardently than our union. He had made up his mind to this all along. In fact he would have given ten thousand pounds from his own pocket (Kate's plum was _her own_) if he could have invented anything like an excuse for complying with our very natural wishes. But then we had been so imprudent as to broach the matter ourselves. Not to oppose it under the circumstances, I sincerely believe, was not in his power.

My granduncle was, after his own fashion, a man of his word, no doubt. The spirit of his vows he made no scruple of setting at naught, but the letter was a bond inviolable. Now it was this peculiarity in his disposition of which Kate's ingenuity enabled us one fine day, not long after our interview in the drawing-room, to take a very unexpected advantage.

It happened then--so the Fates ordered it--that among the naval acquaintances of my betrothed were two gentlemen who had just set foot upon the shores of England, after a year's absence, each, in foreign travel. In company with these gentlemen, Kate and I, preconcertedly, paid uncle Rumgudgeon a visit on the afternoon of Sunday, October the tenth--just three weeks after the memorable decision which had so cruelly defeated our hopes. For about half an hour the conversation ran upon ordinary topics; but at last we contrived, quite naturally, to give it the following turn:

_Capt. Pratt._ "Well, I have been absent just one year. Just one year to-day, as I live--let me see! yes!--this is October the tenth. You remember, Mr. Rumgudgeon, I called this day year, to bid you good-bye. And by the way, it does seem something like a coincidence, does it not--that our friend, Captain Smitherton, has been absent exactly a year also, a year to-day?"

_Smitherton._ "Yes! just one year to a fraction. You will remember, Mr. Rumgudgeon, that I called with Captain Pratt on this very day last year, to pay my parting respects."

_Uncle._ "Yes, yes, yes--I remember it very well--very queer indeed! Both of you gone just one year. A very strange coincidence indeed! Just what Doctor Dubble L. Dee would denominate an extraordinary concurrence of events. Doctor Dub--"

_Kate_ (_interrupting_). "To be sure papa, it _is_ something strange; but then Captain Pratt and Captain Smitherton didn't go altogether the same route, and that makes a difference you know."

_Uncle._ "I don't know any such thing, you hussy! How should I? I think it only makes the matter more remarkable. Doctor Dubble L. Dee--"

_Kate._ "Why, papa, Captain Pratt went round Cape Horn, and Captain Smitherton doubled the Cape of Good Hope."

_Uncle._ "Precisely! the one went east and the other went west, you jade, and they have both gone quite round the world. By the bye, Doctor Dub--"

_Myself_ (_hurriedly_). "Captain Pratt, you must come and spend the evening with us to-morrow--you and Smitherton--you can tell us all about your voyage, and we'll have a game of whist, and--"

_Pratt._ "Whist, my dear fellow--you forget. To-morrow will be Sunday. Some other evening--"

_Kate._ "Oh, no, fie!--Robert's not _quite_ so bad as that. _To-day's_ Sunday."

_Uncle._ "To be sure--to be sure."

_Pratt._ "I beg both your pardons--but I can't be so much mistaken. I know to-morrow's Sunday, because--"

_Smitherton_ (_much surprised_). "What _are_ you all thinking about? Wasn't _yesterday_ Sunday, I should like to know?"

_All._ "Yesterday, indeed! you _are_ out!"

_Uncle._ "To-day's Sunday, I say--don't I know?"

_Pratt._ "Oh, no!--to-morrow's Sunday."

_Smitherton._ "You are _all_ mad--every one of you. I am as positive that yesterday was Sunday as I am that I sit upon this chair."

_Kate_ (_jumping up eagerly_). "I see it--I see it all. Papa, this is a judgment upon you, about--about you know what. Let me alone, and I'll explain it all in a minute. It's a very simple thing, indeed. Captain Smitherton says that yesterday was Sunday: so it was; he is right. Cousin Bobby, and papa and I, say that to-day is Sunday: so it is, we are right. Captain Pratt maintains that to-morrow will be Sunday: so it will, he is right, too. The fact is, we are all right, and thus _three Sundays have come together in a week_."