The Magnificent Adventure

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The Magnificent Adventure Page 14

by Emerson Hough


  CHAPTER XIII

  UNDER THREE FLAGS

  The day was but beginning for the young American republic. All the airwas vibrant with the passion of youth and romance. Yonder in the Westthere might be fame and fortune for any man with courage to adventure.The world had not yet settled down to inexorable grooves of life, fromwhich no human soul might fight its way out save at cost of sweetnessand content and hope. The chance of one man might still equal that ofanother--yonder, in that vast new world along the Mississippi, beyondthe Mississippi, more than a hundred years ago.

  Into that world there now pressed a flowing, seething, restless mass,a new population seeking new avenues of hope and life, of adventureand opportunity. Riflemen, axmen, fighting men, riding men, boatmen,plowmen--they made ever out and on, laughing the Cossack laugh at themere thought of any man or thing withstanding them.

  Over this new world, alert, restless, full of Homeric youth, full ofthe lust of life and adventure, floated three flags. The old war ofFrance and Spain still smoldered along the great waterway into theSouth. The flag of Great Britain had withdrawn itself to the North.The flag of our republic had not yet advanced.

  Those who made the Western population at that time cared little enoughabout flags or treaty rights. They concerned themselves rather withpossession. Let any who liked observe the laws. The strong made theirown laws from day to day, and wrote them in one general codex ofadventure and full-blooded, roistering life. The world was young. Buyland? No, why buy it, when taking it was so much more simple anddelightful?

  Based on this general lust of conquest, this Saxon zeal for newterritories, must have been that inspiration of Thomas Jefferson inhis venture of the far Northwest. He saw there the splendid vision ofhis ideal republic. He saw there a citizenry no longer riotous androistering, not yet frenzied or hysterical, but strong, sober, andconstant. His was a glorious vision. Would God we had fully realizedhis dream!

  There were three flags afloat here or there in the Western countrythen, and none knew what land rightly belonged under any of the three.Indeed, over the heart of that region now floated all the threebanners at the same time--that of Spain, passing but still proud, fora generation actual governor if not actual owner of all the countrybeyond the Mississippi, so far as it had any government at all; thatof France, owner of the one great seaport, New Orleans, settler of thevalley for a generation; and that of the new republic only justarriving into the respect of men either of the East or the West--arepublic which had till recently exacted respect chiefly through thestark deadliness of its fighting and marching men.

  It was a splendid game in which these two boys, Meriwether Lewis andWilliam Clark--they scarcely were more than boys--now were entering.And with the superb unconsciousness and self-trust of youth, theyplayed it with dash and confidence, never doubting their success.

  The prediction of William Clark none the less came true. In thismatter of flags, autocratic Spain was not disposed to yield. DeLassus, Spanish commandant for so many years, would not let the youngtravelers go beyond St. Louis, even so far as Charette. He must besure that his country--which, by right or not, he had ruled solong--had not only been sold by Spain to France, but that the cessionhad been duly confirmed; and, furthermore, he must be sure that thecession by France to the United States had also been concludedformally.

  Traders and trappers had been passing through from the plains country,yes--but this was a different matter. Here was a flotilla under athird flag--it must not pass. Spanish official dignity was not thus tobe shaken, not to be hurried. All must wait until the formalities hadbeen concluded.

  This delay meant the loss of the entire winter. The two young leadersof the expedition were obliged to make the best of it they could.

  Clark formed an encampment in the timbered country across theMississippi from St. Louis, and soon had his men comfortably ensconcedin cabins of their own building. Meanwhile he picked up more menaround the adjacent military posts--Ordway and Howard and Frazer ofthe New England regiment; Cruzatte, Labiche, Lajeunesse, Drouillardand other voyageurs for watermen. They made a hardy and efficient band.

  Upon Captain Lewis devolved most of the scientific work of theexpedition. It was necessary for him to spend much time in St. Louis,to complete his store of instruments, to extend his own studies inscientific matters. Perhaps, after all, the success of the expeditionwas furthered by this delay upon the border.

  Twenty-nine men they had on the expedition rolls by spring--forty-fivein all, counting assistants who were not officially enrolled. Theirequipment for the entire journey out and back, of more than two yearsin duration, was to cost them not more than twenty-five hundreddollars. A tiny army, a meager equipment, for the taking of therichest empire of the world!

  But now this army of a score and a half of men was to witness thelowering before it of two of the greatest flags then known to theworld. It already had seen the retirement of that of Great Britain.The wedge which Burr and Merry and Yrujo had so dreaded was now aboutto be driven home. The country must split apart--Great Britain mustfall back to the North--these other powers, France and Spain, mustmake way to the South and West.

  The army of the new republic, under two loyal boys for leaders,pressed forward, not with drums or banners, not with the roll ofkettledrums, not with the pride and circumstance of glorious war. Thesoldiers of its ranks had not even a uniform--they were clad inbuckskin and linsey, leather and fur. They had no trained fashion ofmarch, yet stood shoulder and shoulder together well enough. They werenot drilled into the perfection of trained soldiers, perhaps, but eachcould use his rifle, and knew how far was one hundred yards.

  The boats were coming down with furs from the great West--from theOmahas, the Kaws, the Osages. Keel boats came up from the lower river,mastering a thousand miles and more of that heavy flood to bring backnews from New Orleans. Broadhorns and keel-boats and sailboats andriver pirogues passed down.

  The strange, colorful life of the little capital of the West went oneagerly. St. Louis was happy; Detroit was glum--the fur trade had beensplit in half. Great Britain had lost--the furs now went out down theMississippi instead of down the St. Lawrence. A world was in themaking and remaking; and over that disturbed and divided world therestill floated the three rival flags.

  Five days before Christmas of 1803, the flag of France fluttered downin the old city of New Orleans. They had dreaded the fleet of GreatBritain at New Orleans--had hoped for the fleet of France. They got afleet of Americans in flatboats--rude men with long rifles andleathern garments, who came under paddle and oar, and not under sail.

  Laussat was the last French commandant in the valley. De Lassus, theSpaniard, holding onto his dignity up the Missouri River beyond St.Louis, still clung to the sovereignty that Spain had deserted. Andacross the river, in a little row of log cabins, lay the new army withthe new flag--an army of twenty-nine men, backed by twenty-fivehundred dollars of a nation's hoarded war gold!

  It was a time for hope or for despair--a time for success orfailure--a time for loyalty or for treason. And that army oftwenty-nine men in buckskin altered the map of the world, the historyof a vast continent.

  While Meriwether Lewis gravely went about his scientific studies, andWilliam Clark merrily went about his dancing with the gay St. Louisbelles, when not engaged in drilling his men beyond the river, thewinter passed. Spring came. The ice ceased to run in the river, thegeese honked northward in millions, the grass showed green betimes.

  The men in Clark's encampment were almost mutinous with lust fortravel. But still the authorities had not completed their formalities;still the flag of Spain floated over the crossbars of the gate of thestone fortress, last stronghold of Spain in the valley of our greatriver.

  March passed, and April. Not until the 9th of May, in the year 1804,were matters concluded to suit the punctilio of France and Spainalike. Now came the assured word that the republic of the UnitedStates intended to stand on the Louisiana purchase, Constitution or noConstitution--that the government
purposed to take over the land whichit had bought. On this point Mr. Jefferson was firm. De Lassus yieldednow.

  On that May morning the soldiers of Spain manning the fortificationsof the old post stood at parade when the drums of the Americans wereheard. One company of troops, under command of Captain Stoddard,represented our army of occupation. Our real army of invasion was thatin buckskin and linsey and leather--twenty-nine men; whose captain,Meriwether Lewis, was to be our official representative at theceremony of transfer.

  De Lassus choked with emotion as he handed over the keys and thearchives which so long had been under his charge.

  "Sir," said he, addressing the commander, "I speak for France as wellas for Spain. I hand over to you the title from France, as I hand overto you the rule from Spain. Henceforth both are for you. I salute you,gentlemen!"

  With the ruffle of the few American drums the transfer was gravelyacknowledged. The flag of Spain slowly dropped from the staff where ithad floated. That of France took its place, and for one day floated bycourtesy over old St. Louis. On the morrow arose a strange newflag--the flag of the United States. It was supported by one companyof regulars and by the little army of joint command--the army of Lewisand Clark--twenty-nine enlisted men in leather!

  "Time now, at last!" said William Clark to his friend. "Time for us tosay farewell! Boats--three of them--are waiting, and my men areitching to see the buffalo plains. What is the latest news in thevillage, Merne?" he added. "I've not been across there for twoweeks."

  "News enough," said Meriwether Lewis gravely. "I just have word of thearrival in town of none other than Colonel Aaron Burr."

  "The Vice-President of the United States! What does he here? Tell me,is he bound down the river? Is there anything in all this talk I haveheard about Colonel Burr? Is he alone?"

  "No. I wish he were alone. Will, she is with him--his daughter, Mrs.Alston!"

  "Well, what of that? Oh, I know--I know, but why should you meet?"

  "How can we help meeting here in the society of this little town,whose people are like one family? They have been invited by Mr.Chouteau to come to his house--I also am a guest there. Will, whatshall I do? It torments me!"

  "Oh, tut, tut!" said light-hearted William Clark. "What shall you do?Why, in the first place, pull the frown from your face, Merne. Now,this young lady forsakes her husband, travels--with her father, to besure, but none the less she travels--along the same trail taken by acertain young man down the Ohio, up the Mississippi, here to St.Louis. Should you call that a torment? Not I! I should flatter myselfover it. A torment? Should you call the flowers that change insweetness as we ride along through the wood a torment? Let them bewareof me! I am no respecter of fortune when it comes to a pretty face, myfriend. It is mine if it is here, and if I may kiss it--don't rebukeme, Merne! I am full of the joy of life. Woman--the nearest woman--tocall her a torment! And you a soldier! I don't blame them. Tormentyou? Yes, they will, so long as you allow it. Then don't allow it!"

  "You preach very well, Will. Of course, I know you don't practise whatyou preach--who does?"

  "Well, perhaps! But, seriously, why take life so hard, Merne? Whydon't you relax--why don't you swim with the current for a time? Welive but once. Tell me, do you think there was but one woman made foreach of us men in all the world? My faith, if that be true, I have hadmore than my share, I fear, as I have passed along! But even when itcomes to marrying and settling down to hoeing an acre of corn-land andraising a shoat or two for the family--tell me, Merne, what woman doesa man marry? Doesn't he marry the one at hand--the one that is readyand waiting? Do you think fortune would always place the one woman inthe world ready for the one man at the one time, just when the hoeingand the shoat-raising was to the fore? It is absurd, man! Nature daresnot take such chances--and does not."

  Lewis did not answer his friend's jesting argument.

  "Listen, Merne," Clark went on. "The memory of a kiss is better thanthe memory of a tear. No, listen, Merne! The print of a kiss is sweetas water of a spring when you are athirst. And the spring shows nonethe worse for the taste of heaven it gave you. Lips and wateralike--they tell no tales. They are goods the gods gave us as part oflife. But the great thirst--the great thirst of a man for power, fordeeds, for danger, for adventure, for accomplishment--ah, that isours, and that is harder to slake, I am thinking! A man's deeds arehis life. They tell the tale."

  "His deeds! Yes, you are right, they do, indeed, tell the tale. Let ushope the reckoning will stand clean at last."

  "Merne, you are a soldier, not a preacher."

  "Will, you are neither--you are only a boy!"

 

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