The George Rogers Clark National Historical Park in Vincennes, Indiana, operated on Eastern Daylight Time. It was 10 a.m., and we were Ranger Pamela's first customers of the day.
"Will you stay for the 30-minute film?" she asked. "You will learn about the Virginia militia who fought for about an acre of land and in doing so actually gained 270,000 square miles for the United States. That was five full states and part of another--Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin and Minnesota east of the Mississippi River."
Ranger Pamela's contagious enthusiasm spread. "Sure," we agreed.
Patiently, she explained how the ingenious surprise attack on British Lieutenant Governor Henry Hamilton at Vincennes reduced British influence, suppressed killing of settlers by Indian raiders sympathetic to the British, and ultimately secured the land between the Appalachian Mountains and the Mississippi River for the U.S.
"After you watch the movie, I'll take you into the monument," she promised.
From the movie, Andy and I learned that Commander George Rogers Clark, the older brother of William from the Lewis and Clark Expedition, received little recognition or recompense for his incredible military accomplishments in 1777-1779, when he led the campaign in the West against the British. A magnetic leader, persuasive orator and master of psychological warfare, he convinced about 170 Virginia volunteers to follow him to Corn Island, Pennsylvania, in the spring of 1778, where he trained them in Indian warfare.
The movie was based on Clark's philosophy that the best defense was a strong offense. Clark had persuaded Virginia Governor Patrick Henry to let him carry the war into the Ohio Territory. Legislative orders called it "protect the Kentucky frontier." Top secret instructions said, "Control posts with French inhabitants at Kaskaskia and Cahokia in the Illinois country and Vincennes on the Wabash River, and ultimately capture British Fort Detroit."
On July 4 Clark's tiny army took Fort Kaskaskia, in what is now Illinois, without firing a shot. He told residents about the U.S. alliance with France and promised them religious freedom. They capitulated.
Fort Cahokia "fell" the same way, only here Clark won the allegiance of Father Pierre Gibault, vicar-general of the Illinois country and head of Kaskaskia's Roman Catholic mission. Gibault convinced the people of Vincennes to join the Patriots and turn over Fort Sackville. They did temporarily, until Hamilton marched in with hundreds of Indians on December 17, 1778.
Italian merchant and trader Francis Vigo informed Clark on February 5, 1779, that Hamilton had allowed all his Indian and French allies to go home for the winter. That was Clark's psychological edge. He and 170 Virginians and Illinois French volunteers crossed 180 miles of "drowned country," sometimes neck deep in icy water, to reach Vincennes on February 23. They quietly infiltrated Vincennes, surrounded Fort Sackville and took aim at all the British gunners. Then with lots of noise, they opened fire. In the meantime Clark's men captured a returning Indian raiding party. Scalping four or five warriors in plain sight of the British soldiers, Clark demanded Hamilton's surrender or else he would "storm the fort and give no quarter." The bluff worked. Ranger Pamela told us, "At about that second cement bench, Clark and Hamilton met, and Hamilton relinquished his sword."
The movie was based on Clark's philosophy that the best defense was a strong offense. Clark had persuaded Virginia Governor Patrick Henry to let him carry the war into the Ohio Territory. Legislative orders called it "protect the Kentucky frontier." Top secret instructions said, "Control posts with French inhabitants at Kaskaskia and Cahokia in the Illinois country and Vincennes on the Wabash River, and ultimately capture British Fort Detroit."
On July 4 Clark's tiny army took Fort Kaskaskia, in what is now Illinois, without firing a shot. He told residents about the U.S. alliance with France and promised them religious freedom. They capitulated.
Fort Cahokia "fell" the same way, only here Clark won the allegiance of Father Pierre Gibault, vicar-general of the Illinois country and head of Kaskaskia's Roman Catholic mission. Gibault convinced the people of Vincennes to join the Patriots and turn over Fort Sackville. They did temporarily, until Hamilton marched in with hundreds of Indians on December 17, 1778.
Italian merchant and trader Francis Vigo informed Clark on February 5, 1779, that Hamilton had allowed all his Indian and French allies to go home for the winter. That was Clark's psychological edge. He and 170 Virginians and Illinois French volunteers crossed 180 miles of "drowned country," sometimes neck deep in icy water, to reach Vincennes on February 23. They quietly infiltrated Vincennes, surrounded Fort Sackville and took aim at all the British gunners. Then with lots of noise, they opened fire. In the meantime Clark's men captured a returning Indian raiding party. Scalping four or five warriors in plain sight of the British soldiers, Clark demanded Hamilton's surrender or else he would "storm the fort and give no quarter." The bluff worked. Ranger Pamela told us, "At about that second cement bench, Clark and Hamilton met, and Hamilton relinquished his sword."
Even though Fort Detroit never fell, Clark's victory at Vincennes weakened British control west of the Appalachians and somewhat curbed Indian raids on settlers.
Ranger Pamela walked us to the granite memorial, dedicated in 1933 by President Franklin D. Roosevelt. "Too bad Clark never got much credit for what he did," she said. "He died at age 65, unmarried, in a little cabin on the Ohio River across from Louisville. His exploits were pretty much forgotten." The 16-column memorial with its massive round Greek dome towered over the river. Inside, seven gigantic murals surrounded the larger-than-life bronze of Clark. We listened to the audio descriptions of each.
Ranger Pamela walked us to the granite memorial, dedicated in 1933 by President Franklin D. Roosevelt. "Too bad Clark never got much credit for what he did," she said. "He died at age 65, unmarried, in a little cabin on the Ohio River across from Louisville. His exploits were pretty much forgotten." The 16-column memorial with its massive round Greek dome towered over the river. Inside, seven gigantic murals surrounded the larger-than-life bronze of Clark. We listened to the audio descriptions of each.
"At least now he's not forgotten," said Andy.
Back at the visitor center, four other tourists waited for the movie. "Wow!" said Ranger Pamela. "It's a busy day."
Then she thanked us for letting her show the story of a great American whom history had overlooked.
It was totally by accident that we ended up spending the afternoon at Cahokia. Stuck in a double lane of traffic on Route #64 in East St. Louis, approaching the MLK Bridge over the Mississippi River, we stopped dead, crawled for half an hour at 2 m.p.h., and stopped again. Andy took Exit 4. A few other cars had done the same. Little did we know it took us to the war zone of East St. Louis, probably one of the most dangerous spots in the country--almost no people, burned out houses, boarded up stores and lot after vacant lot of grasses and garbage. Little Red bumped along the rutted pavement, past burned out cars and the shells of incinerated houses, but we kept driving north.
Then she thanked us for letting her show the story of a great American whom history had overlooked.It was totally by accident that we ended up spending the afternoon at Cahokia. Stuck in a double lane of traffic on Route #64 in East St. Louis, approaching the MLK Bridge over the Mississippi River, we stopped dead, crawled for half an hour at 2 m.p.h., and stopped again. Andy took Exit 4. A few other cars had done the same. Little did we know it took us to the war zone of East St. Louis, probably one of the most dangerous spots in the country--almost no people, burned out houses, boarded up stores and lot after vacant lot of grasses and garbage. Little Red bumped along the rutted pavement, past burned out cars and the shells of incinerated houses, but we kept driving north.
Later at Cahokia, the ranger said, "You are lucky to have come out alive. Seriously. No one goes to East St. Louis. It is truly taking your life in your hands." He gave us directions to Route #255 North and safe passage to our motel.
It was also by accident that our misdirection took us past Cahokia Mounds, a State Historic Site, National Historic Landmark and World Heritage Site.
It was also by accident that our misdirection took us past Cahokia Mounds, a State Historic Site, National Historic Landmark and World Heritage Site.
"I was planning to come here on Monday anyway," said Andy. "Since we are here, we'll explore it now."
Displays and interactive activities in the museum and a 17-minute film explained what is known about the giant earth mounds in southern Illinois. As the largest prehistoric Indian site north of Mexico, the Cahokia Mounds covered about 4,000 acres with 120 mounds. Illinois now protects 2,200 acres and 70 of the remaining 80 mounds; the area is named a World Heritage Site for its significance in the prehistory of North America. At its peak between 1200 A.D. and 1250 A.D., Cahokia was home to an estimated 20,000 people, a community larger than the city of London in 1250 A.D. and so big it wasn't matched in the U.S. until 1800 in Philadelphia.
From the film we learned about the Mississippian culture (800 A.D. to 1250 A.D.), highly structured community living with a complex ranked society and political system, organized around Monks Mound and the 40-acre Grand Plaza, where public gatherings took place.
From the museum I read that a theocratic chieftain ruled the community and that tattooing with a sharp bone and permanent plant dye was common, particularly among men. I learned about their Woodhenge solar calendars made of timber posts and that it took an estimated 14,666,666 basketfulls of dirt of 50 to 60 pounds each, carried on Indians' backs, to create Monks Mound. The archaeological information fascinated me, but what became of them? By the late 1300's Cahokia was essentially abandoned. A whole display suggested possibilities: depletion of resources like wood and game, weakened leadership so people left, challenges by other tribes so residents fled, social unrest that caused conflict, climate change and disease that weakened society. "What makes the most sense to me," I told Andy, "is soil depletion from growing corn. That would lead to reduced harvests and food shortages, even though the civilization had abundance on these fertile plains."
He agreed.
Displays and interactive activities in the museum and a 17-minute film explained what is known about the giant earth mounds in southern Illinois. As the largest prehistoric Indian site north of Mexico, the Cahokia Mounds covered about 4,000 acres with 120 mounds. Illinois now protects 2,200 acres and 70 of the remaining 80 mounds; the area is named a World Heritage Site for its significance in the prehistory of North America. At its peak between 1200 A.D. and 1250 A.D., Cahokia was home to an estimated 20,000 people, a community larger than the city of London in 1250 A.D. and so big it wasn't matched in the U.S. until 1800 in Philadelphia.
From the film we learned about the Mississippian culture (800 A.D. to 1250 A.D.), highly structured community living with a complex ranked society and political system, organized around Monks Mound and the 40-acre Grand Plaza, where public gatherings took place.
From the museum I read that a theocratic chieftain ruled the community and that tattooing with a sharp bone and permanent plant dye was common, particularly among men. I learned about their Woodhenge solar calendars made of timber posts and that it took an estimated 14,666,666 basketfulls of dirt of 50 to 60 pounds each, carried on Indians' backs, to create Monks Mound. The archaeological information fascinated me, but what became of them? By the late 1300's Cahokia was essentially abandoned. A whole display suggested possibilities: depletion of resources like wood and game, weakened leadership so people left, challenges by other tribes so residents fled, social unrest that caused conflict, climate change and disease that weakened society. "What makes the most sense to me," I told Andy, "is soil depletion from growing corn. That would lead to reduced harvests and food shortages, even though the civilization had abundance on these fertile plains."
Then we climbed Monks Mound to the heights of power, 154 steps with four terraces, built over a period of 300 years. On top of the world, a hundred feet closer to the sun, we read that the mound had been increased in size 10 to 18 times until it reached 1,100 feet in length and measured 14 acres at the base.
The mighty sun chief lived on top in a 5,000-square foot house.
The mighty sun chief lived on top in a 5,000-square foot house.
For a civilization that had it all--art, science, agriculture, engineering, trade, government--the only thing they lacked was written language. I jotted extensive notes in my little composition book.
As we drove west and crossed the Mighty Mississippi, I told Andy I'd make up for it in the blog.
As we drove west and crossed the Mighty Mississippi, I told Andy I'd make up for it in the blog.
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