St. Louis - The Fourth City, Volume 1. Walter Barlow Stevens

disputes as were brought to his attention, but in a great emergency he failed utterly. The memorial of protest and repudiation by the people of St. Louis was carried to New Orleans by the first citizen, Auguste Chouteau. Of the six Spanish governors of St. Louis, De Leyba was the only one not well remembered.

      O'Hanlon, the Irish historian came to St. Louis while some who were here in 1780, "the year of the blow" — L'Anne du Coup, — were still living. He obtained from eye witnesses and from the family traditions, then fresh, the details for the most definite and graphic recital of that affair which has been written. Father O'Hanlon was for some time stationed at the cathedral about 1848. He saw the records. He sought the recollections from those best qualified to speak. And this is what he wrote:

       A few days before the attack was made an old man named Quenelle, who was a resident of St. Louis, had gone over to the mouth of Cahokia creek, on a fishing excursion. While watching his lines on the south side of the creek, he heard a slight noise at the opposite side. On looking up ho beheld an acquaintance, who had formerly resided in St. Louis. The man had absconded on account of some crime he had committed. His name was Ducharme. Afterwards it was ascertained that he was one of the chief leaders in the attack. The sudden and strange appearance of Ducharme, the circumstances under which he had left and the rumor of a meditated attack, induced Quenelle to refuse Ducharme 's invitation to cross the creek. The wary fisherman was confirmed the more in his refusal by observing the bright eyes of several Indians glaring upon him from out of the bushes.

       " Come over, " Ducharme said, " I have something very particular to tell you. "

       "No," said Quenelle, "your request is not intended for my benefit, nor for the gratification of your friendly feelings. Though I am an old man and bald, yet I value my scalp too highly to trust myself with you and your friends."

       So saying, the fisherman promptly re-embarked in his canoe. He crossed over to St. Louis, and without delay he informed the commandant of what he had seen and heard. The people became alarmed when such tidings reached them. Instead of commending, De Leyba called his informant an old dotard and ordered him to be put in prison. This strange proceeding had the effect of calming people's minds and banishing apprehension.

       The 25th of May that year brought the festival of Corpus Christi. This was a day highly venerated by the inhabitants. Had the assault occurred then, in all probability it must have proved fatal to them; for after Divine worship and procession, all of the townspeople, as they had been accustomed, went to gather strawberries which grew wild on the prairies near. The town could have been taken with ease, while the unsuspecting inhabitants, who were roaming about in search of fruit, could have been massacred. Fortunately few only of the enemy had crossed the river and ambushed themselves on the prairie. The villagers frequently came so near them that, from their places of concealment, the Indians could have reached these strollers with their hands. But they knew not how many whites were still remaining in the town. On the 26th the main body crossed and marched directly toward the fields, expecting to find the greater part of the village there. They were disappointed, few only among the tillers baring gone out to view their crops. These perceived the approach of their savage foes and immediately commenced to retreat toward the town.

       One man, named Chancellor, had gone out that day before the attack to get strawberries. His wife, two daughters and an American, — the first that had ever lived in St. Louis, — accompanied him in a cart which was drawn by two horses. When they perceived the Indians, these excursionists fled towards the town. Chancellor was seated in front and driving, while the American was posted behind in order to protect the women. During the flight the American was mortally wounded and as he was falling out of the cart, Chancellor seized him and threw him in the midst of the women, exclaiming:

       "Those Indians shall not get the scalp of my American."

       At the same time, Chancellor was struck by two balls which broke his arm in as many places, above the elbow. His wife received a bullet through the middle of her hand. The elder daughter was shot through the shoulder. The younger was struck on the forehead, the ball glancing and only stunning her. The family had a most providential escape, for the moment Chancellor arrived at the town gate, his horses dropped dead, having been pierced with wounds while galloping homewards, impelled by the owner's shouts and whip.

       Had those who discovered their foes in the prairie fled to the lower gate, they could have escaped. The greater part of them took that road which led to the upper gate through the very midst of their enemies. About twenty persons, it was computed, met death while endeavoring to get within the entrenchments. A Mr. Belhomme had his thigh broken by a ball fired from an Indian 's gun. He managed to crawl toward the great bend of a pond opposite to a mill. In the evening when the Indians had disappeared, he began to call aloud for help. Finding this unavailing, Belhomme fired his gun. He continued this until all of his ammunition was expended. The people in the town heard the report but fearing the Indians were still lurking about, they dared not obey the signal of distress. The unfortunate man was found dead a few days after, having perished through loss of blood and through hunger.

       Julian Boy was pursued by an Indian who wished to take him prisoner. Finding that his enemy gained on him at every step, the Creole determined to give him battle. He turned, and, taking aim, fired at the Indian's head and shattered his jawbone. The Indian fell. Boy ran up to him and tearing his shirt, bound up the wound. The Indian was grateful and guarded Boy through the ranks into St. Louis.

       This rencontre greatly alarmed those who remained in the town and immediately the cry was raised, "To arms! To arms!" From every direction the townsmen rushed towards the works, and threw open the gates to save their brethren. The Indians advanced slowly but steadily towards the ramparts. Taken by surprise, and almost deprived of hope, owing to the superiority of numbers of their assailants, the courageous inhabitants determined to defend themselves to the last extremity. About fifteen men were posted at each gate. The rest were scattered along the line of defense. The Indians began an irregular fire. This was answered with grape shot from the cannon. For a while the contest was very warm. On account of the intrenchments and deterred by the cannon, the Indians deliberately retired.

       The inhabitants proceeded to gather the slain and bury their bodies that lay scattered in all parts of the prairie. Seven were at first found and buried in one grave. Ten or twelve others were discovered in the course of a fortnight in the long grass. The acts of the Indians were accompanied by their characteristic ferocity. Some of the victims were horribly mangled. In the cathedral register of St. Louis Father Bernard, the Capuchin missionary, records as a fact that on the 26th day of May, 1780, he interred in the cemetery of the parish the bodies of Charles Bizet, Amable Guion, Calve and a negro. These men were massacred by the Indians. Their corpses seem to have been the first recovered.

      The conduct of the Spanish governor, De Leyba in connection with the British-Indian attack on St. Louis has been one of the subjects of controversy among historians of St. Louis. Father O'Hanlon's researches prompted him to conclusions very discreditable to the Spanish governor. He said that De Leyba did not make his appearance until the Indians had begun to retire from the attack:

       Being an invalid he was rolled in a barrow to the scene of action. It is traditionally stated that immediately be ordered several pieces of cannon, which were posted in front of the government house to be spiked, and to be filled with sand. In a very peremptory tone De Leyba commanded the inhabitants to cease firing and to regain their homes. Those posted at the lower gate did not hear the order and consequently kept their stations. The commandant perceived this and ordered a cannon to be fired at them. They had barely time to throw themselves on the ground when the volley passed over them. The shot struck against the wall and tore down a portion of it. The tenor of De Leyba 's conduct gave rise to suspicions of treachery on the part of the governor. Under the pretext of proving that there was no danger of an attack, only a few days before it actually occurred, De Leyba sold the government ammunition to the traders. The townspeople would have been left defenseless had they not found in a private