The fame of the beauty of General Clark's American
bride spread like wild-fire. For months wherever she
rode or walked admiring crowds followed, eager to catch
a glimpse of her face. Thickly swathed in veils, Julia
concealed her features from the public gaze, but that only
increased the interest.
"She shall haf a party, une grande réception," said Pierre Chouteau, and the demi-fortress was opened to a greater banquet than even at the return of Lewis and Clark.
Social St. Louis abandoned itself to gaiety. Dancing slippers were at a premium, and all the gay silks that ever came up from New Orleans were refurbished with lace and jewels.
"They are beautiful women," said Julia that night. "I thought you told me there were only Indians here."
Clark laughed. "Wait until you walk in the streets."
And sure enough, with the arrival of the beautiful Julia came also certain Sacs and Iowas who had been scalping settlers within their borders. With bolted handcuffs and leg shackles they were shut up in the old Spanish martello tower. From the Chouteau house Julia could see their cell windows covered with iron gratings and the guard pacing to and fro.
At the trial in the old Spanish garrison house on the hill the streets swarmed with red warriors.
"How far away St. Louis is from civilisation," remarked Julia. "We seem in the very heart of the Indian country."
"The Governor has organised the militia, and our good friend Auguste Chouteau is their colonel," answered her husband, reassuringly.
"Why these fortifications, these bastions and stone towers?" inquired Julia, as they walked along the Rue.
"They were built a long time ago for defences against the Indians. In fact my brother defended St. Louis once against an Indian raid."
"Tell me the story," cried Julia. And walking along the narrow streets under the honey-scented locusts, Clark told Julia of the fight and fright of 1780.
