II B R.AR.Y OF THE UNIVERSITY Of ILLINOIS 917-7 K62w 1932 cop. 3 JlLl, ultras - Wrr ti ftA L HISTORIC A SURVEY Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/waubunearlydayintOOkinz WAU-BUN The "Early Day" in the North-West Zi)t Hafeestbe Clas&ic* WAU-BUN The "Early Day" in the North-West By Mrs. John H. Kinzie of Chicago HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION BY Milo Milton Quaife SECRETARY AND EDITOR OF THE BURTON HISTORICAL COLLECTION CHICAGO R. R. Donnelley & Sons Co, Christmas, 1932 SH/1 -,;.. • 3 ^Publishers' preface IT seems appropriate for the year in which Chicago is to celebrate the one hun- dredth anniversary of its incorporation as a village by "A Century of Progress" that we should choose as the subject of our annual volume Mrs. Kinzie's WAU-BUN. The Lakeside Press cannot go back to the year 1833, DUt lts beginning dates back to 1864, when Mr. Richard Robert Donnelley with his young wife and three-months-old son came to Chicago from Hamilton, Ontario, Canada, to become a partner in the firm of Church, Goodman & Donnelley. Chicago at that date still had many of the earmarks of the frontier town, but it already had a population of 170,000 and was grow- ing by leaps and bounds. Its limits were Fullerton Avenue, Western Avenue and Thirty-Ninth Street, but the street cars ran only to North Avenue, Ashland Avenue and Thirty-First Street. South Water Street was alive with shipping, and Lake Street was the principal shopping district. State Street, south of Madison Street, had re- cently been raised, but part of the residences $ubltstfjer£' preface had been raised to the new level and part had not. The sidewalks followed the levels of the houses and the passers-by were con- tinually ascending and descending the steps from one level to another. Wabash Avenue and Michigan Avenue and the near north side — half suburban, with roomy houses and large grounds — were the fashionable resi- dence quarters. The Illinois Central ran its trains from Twelfth Street to its station at Randolph Street on a breakwater several hundred feet out in the lake from the east side of Michigan Avenue, compelled to do so by the city fathers who could not find funds to protect the street from the ravages of the northeast storms. While business was slowly working to the south, the principal Methodist and Presbyterian churches were still on Washington Street and the Catholic Church was on Madison Street. Church & Goodman represented in their book store the American Baptist Publishing Society and published the Christian Mes- senger^ the organ of the Baptist denomina- tion in the Midwest. Mr. Donnelley entered the partnership to manage the printing office, print the Weekly, and do a general job printing business as "steam printers." In 1870 the partnership was dissolved, Mr. Donnelley retaining the printing plant and vi $ublt£f)er£' preface organizing The Lakeside Printing & Pub- lishing Company, of which he was to be the general manager. Their new building, known as the Lakeside Building, situated at the southwest corner of Clark and Adams streets, was up to the roof when it was destroyed in the Great Fire. At the same time the printing plant at the old location was wiped out. Nothing daunted, the re- building of the Lakeside Building was imme- diately started, and a new printing office was set up in Canal Street as rapidly as new type and new presses could be procured from the East — all on credit. The notorious Jim Fiske aided the enterprise by furnishing transportation for the type and presses over the Erie by accepting a six months' note. The Lakeside Printing & Publishing Com- pany was succeeded by Donnelley, Gazette & Lloyd; later by Donnelley, Lloyd & Com- pany, by R. R. Donnelley & Sons, and finally by the present corporation — R. R. Donnelley & Sons Company. In 1883 the plant was moved from the Lakeside Building to the Taylor Building, built especially for printers and binders, on the site of the present Harris Trust Com- pany. In 1897 the firm erected its own build- ing at Plymouth Court and Polk Street. This building was designed by a young vii $ubltstf)er3' preface architect, Howard Van Doren Shaw, who introduced into manufacturing buildings in Chicago a note of architectural design. The present plant, also designed by Mr. Shaw, was started in 191 1 by the building of a small part of the first unit. After two addi- tions, the final units were completed in 1929 and the Plymouth Court plant was aban- doned. Unfortunately, Mr. Shaw did not live to see his plans finally materialized, and the tower, an after-thought, was de- signed by Charles Z. Klauder. Occupying an entire city block, facing the lake between Twenty-first and Twenty-second streets, the building contains over 1,100,000 square feet of floor space, and both in its exterior architecture and interior adaptation for manufacturing, it stands representing the ideals of The Lakeside Press — a building of dignity, beauty and manufacturing effi- ciency. The Publishers cannot claim that Wau- Bux answers the specifications they have laid down for the subject matter of their annual volumes — that each book should be a reprint of an item of rarity. Several editions of Wau-Bun have appeared since the original edition was printed in 1856. Probably many of our readers who collect items of early western history have copies viii $ubltefjer£' preface of one or more of these editions in their libraries, but Wau-Bun is one of the important books on early Chicago, is the main source of the story of the Fort Dear- born Massacre, and certainly no book treat- ing of that period of our local history has been written with more charm. It has probably never been read by the majority of the recipients of these volumes, and a reading at this time by even those who are already familiar with it would be timely and worth while. It is the hope that as a sort of a prelude to this year of our Centennial Jubilee our friends and patrons will find in it a few pleasant and profitable hours. The Publishers Christmas, 1932. IX Contents! Historical Introduction xix Reproduction of the Original Title Page . . lv Dedication to the Original Edition lvii Preface to the Original Edition lix CHAPTER i Departure from Detroit 3 CHAPTER 2 Michilimackinac — American Fur Company — In- dian Trade — Mission School — Point St. Ignace 9 CHAPTER 3 Arrival at Green Bay — Mrs. Arndt — Gen. Root — Political Despatches — A Summerset — Shanty- town — Mr. Rolette — Indian Morning-Song — Mr. Cadle's Mission — Party at Mrs. Doty's — Miss Grignons — Mrs. Baird's Party — Hamilton A.— Mrs. Beall 24 CHAPTER 4 Arrangements for Travelling — Fox River — Judge Doty — Judge Reaume — M. Boilvin — Canadian Voyageurs; Their Songs — The Kakalin — Wish- tay-yun — Rev. Eleazer Williams — Passage through the Rapids — Grande Chute — Christ- man 41 CHAPTER 5 Beautiful Encampment — Winnebago Lake — Miss Four-Legs — Garlic Island — W'ild Rice .... 63 xi Content* CHAPTER 6 Breakfast at Betty More's — Judge Law — Fastidi- ousness; What came of it 73 CHAPTER 7 Butte des Morts — French Cognomens — Serpen- tine Course of Fox River — Lake Puck-a-way — Lac de Bceuf — Fort Winnebago 80 CHAPTER 8 Major and Mrs. Twiggs — A. Davis — An Indian Funeral — Conjugal Affliction — Indian Chiefs; Talk English— The Wild Cat— The Dandy . . 90 CHAPTER 9 Housekeeping; The First Dinner 104 CHAPTER 10 Indian Payment — Pawnee Blanc — The Washing- ton Woman — Raising Funds 109 CHAPTER 11 Louisa — Garrison Life — Dr. Xewhall — Affliction — Domestic Accommodations — Ephraim — Xew Year's Day — Native Custom — Day-kau-ray's Views of Education — Capt. Harney's Mince-Pie 120 CHAPTER 12 Lizzie Twiggs — Preparations for a Journey — The Regimental Tailor 136 CHAPTER 13 Departure from Fort Winnebago — Duck Creek — Upset in a Canoe — Pillou — Encamping in Win- ter — Four Lakes — Indian Encampment — Blue Mound — Morrison's — A Tennessee Woman . . 143 xii Content* CHAPTER 14 Rev. Mr. Kent — Losing One's Way — A Tent Blown Down — Discovery of a Fence — Hamil- ton's Diggings — Frontier Housekeeping — Wm. S. Hamilton — A Miner — Hard Riding — Kel- logg's Grove 159 CHAPTER 15 Rock River — Dixon's — John Ogie — Missing the Trail — Hours of Trouble — Famine in the Camp —Relief 176 CHAPTER 16 A Potawatamie Lodge — A Tempest — Piche's — Hawley's — The Dupage — Mr. Dougherty — The Desplaines — Mrs. Lawton — Wolf Point — Chi- cago 194 CHAPTER 17 Fort Dearborn — Chicago in 1831 — First Settle- ment of Chicago — John Kinzie, Sen. — Fate of George Forsyth — Trading Posts — Canadian Voyageurs — M. St. Jean — Louis la Liberte . . 208 CHAPTER 18 Massacre at Chicago 233 CHAPTER 19 Massacre continued — Mrs. Helm — Ensign Ronan — Capt. Wells— Mrs. Holt— Mrs. Heald— The Sau-ga-nash — Sergeant Griffith — Mrs. Burns — Black Partridge and Mrs. Lee — Xau-non-gee and Sergeant Hays 257 CHAPTER 20 Treatment of American Prisoners by the British — Captivity of Mr. Kinzie — Battle on Lake Erie — xiii Contents Cruelty of Gen. Proctor's Troops — Gen. Harri- son — Rebuilding of Fort Dearborn — Red Bird — A Humorous Incident — Cession of the Territory around Chicago 288 CHAPTER 21 Severe Spring Weather — Pistol-Firing — Milk Punch — A Sermon — Pre-emption to "Kinzie's Addition" — Liberal Sentiments 303 CHAPTER 22 The Captive 310 CHAPTER 23 Capt. McKillip — Second Sight — Ball at Hickory Creek — Arrival of the "Napoleon" — Troubles of Embarkation 335 CHAPTER 24 Departure for Fort Winnebago — A Frightened In- dian — Encampment at Dunkley's Grove — Horses Lost — Getting Mired — An Ague Cured by a Rattlesnake — Crystal Lake — Story of the Little Rail 350 CHAPTER 25 Return Journey Continued — Soldiers' Encamp- ment — Big Foot Lake — Village of Maunk-suck — A Young Gallant — Climbing Mountain- Passes — Turtle-Creek — Kosh-ko-nong — Cross- ing a Marsh — Twenty-Mile Prairie — Hasting's Woods — Duck Creek — Brunet — Home .... 368 CHAPTER 26 The Agency — The Blacksmith's House — Building a Kitchen — Four-Legs, the Dandy — Indian Views of Civilization — Efforts of M. Mazzu- chelli — Charlotte 389 xiv Contents? CHAPTER 27 The Cut-Nose — The Fawn — Visit of White Crow — Parting with Friends — Christman — Louisa again — The Sunday School 402 CHAPTER 28 Plante — Removal — Domestic Inconveniences — Indian Presents — Grandmother Day-kau-ray — Indian Customs — Indian Dances — The Medi- cine Dance — Indian Graves — Old Boilvin's Wake 412 CHAPTER 29 Indian Tales — Story of the Red Fox 427 CHAPTER 30 Story of Shee-shee-banze 438 CHAPTER 31 Visit to Green Bay — Disappointment — Return Journey — Knaggs' — Blind Indian — Mau-zhee- gaw-gaw Swamp — Bellefontaine 449 CHAPTER 32 Commencement of Sauk War — Winnebago Coun- cil — Crely — Follett — Bravery — The Little Elk — An Alarm — Man-Eater and his Party — An Exciting Dance 466 CHAPTER 33 Fleeing from the Enemy — Mata — Old Smoker — Meeting with Menomonees — Raising the Wind — Garlic Island — Winnebago Rapids — The Wau-be-nau-kees — Thunder-Storm — Vi telle — Guardapie — Fort Howard 484 XV Contents CHAPTER 34 Panic at Green Bay — Tidings of Cholera — Green Bay Flies — Doyle, the Murderer — Death of Lieut. Foster — A Hardened Criminal — Good News from the Seat of War — Departure for Home — Shipwreck at the Grand Chute — A Wet Encampment — An Unexpected Arrival — Re- inforcement of Volunteers — La Grosse Ameri- caine — Arrival at Home 502 CHAPTER 35 Conclusion of The War — Treaty at Rock Island — Cholera among the Troops — Wau-kaun-kaw — Wild-Cat's Frolic at the Mee-kan — Surrender of the Winnebago Prisoners 522 CHAPTER 36 Delay in the Annual Payment — Scalp Dances — Groundless Alarm — Arrival of Gov. Porter — Payment — Escape of the Prisoners — Neighbors Lost — Re-appearance — Robineau — Bellair . . 537 CHAPTER 37 Agathe — "Kinzie's Addition" — Tomah — Indian Acuteness — Indian Simplicity 550 CHAPTER 3$ Famine — Day-kau-ray's Daughter — Xoble Reso- lution of a Chief — Bread for the Hungry — Rev. Mr. Kent — An Escaped Prisoner — The Cut- Xose Again — Leave-taking with our Red Chil- dren — Departure from Fort Winnebago .... 562 Appendix 573 Lvdex 585 XVI Historical Introduction Historical Sntrobuction A CENTURY ago a little fleet of ves- sels comprising the Lake Erie Steam- boat Line plied regularly between the ports of Buffalo and Detroit, the latter the metropolis of the Upper Lakes. Detroit was the western terminus of the line for the excellent reason that beyond this point, around the shores of lakes Huron and Michi- gan, there was neither population nor com- merce sufficient to justify the establishment of any regular shipping service. For the sea- son of 1829, the enterprising proprietors of the Lake Erie line advertised to the world the installation of numerous improvements in their vessels, calculated not only to ''con- tribute greatly to the comfort and conven- ience of Passengers," but "to give the Boats greater speed and force, and enable them to perform their trips with very great cer- tainty." This same advertisement further announced that it was "in contemplation" to send a boat into the Upper Lakes during the summer, "to Green Bay, Mackinac, and Saut de Sainte Marie." Should this project be actually realized, "due notice" would be xix ©tetorical 3fntrobuctton afforded of the departure. A year later the fleet of the Lake Erie Steamboat Line had grown from four tiny vessels to six; and the negotiation by the Government of an Indian treaty at Green Bay caused the sending not merely of one steamboat, but two, to that place — the first, to convey thither the offi- cials and others intent upon attending the negotiation, the second, to bring them back to Detroit and civilization. So it came to pass that on the "dark, rainy evening" of September 6, 1830, the Henry CIay> temporarily withdrawn from her regular Buffalo run, departed from De- troit for the Upper Country. On board were but a handful of passengers, who had gladly improved the rare opportunity presented by the mission of the Henry Clay^ to pursue their journey to the western wilderness by the relatively rapid and luxurious steamer, instead of taking passage in one of the tiny sailing vessels which even then plied — on occasion — the Upper Lakes. "Comfort and convenience" are but relative terms, how- ever; across Thunder Bay the storm came on, "fast and furious." The rain, which fell in torrents, "penetrated every seam and pore of deck and moulding," driving the un- fortunate passengers to seek the protection of umbrellas in their cabins, and when even xx J^tetorical Sntrobuctton this measure proved inadequate, to betake themselves to their berths, where they re- mained ensconced the livelong day. On the steamer's passenger list were the names of two women — and one of the two was a bride. So recently had she attained this happy state, that the boat on which she sailed undoubtedly carried westward one or more copies of the most recent issue of the North-Western Journal, "published weekly at Detroit," containing among other items of news, this announcement: iHarn'eb on the pth inst. at New Hartford, Oneida County, N. Y. by the Rev. Mr. Adams, Mr. John H. Kinzie, Agent of Indian Affairs at Fort Winnebago, to Miss Juliette Augusta Magi//. The bridegroom, who enters our narrative at this point, had attended, a few weeks ear- lier, the Prairie du Chien Treaty negotia- tions of July, 1830, and shortly before their termination had hurried eastward to New Hartford to figure in his own wedding, after which bride and groom had set out for their new home in the western wilderness. On reaching Detroit, where Kinzie had numer- ous relatives and friends, they had passed some time awaiting the departure of the xxi Utetortcal Jfntrotmctton Henry Clay, on which they took passage for Green Bay. For Mrs. Kinzie the journey was one of compelling interest. It marked her first per- sonal contact with the crude and pulsing life of the boundless West, which had possessed a fascination for her since early childhood. Here she was to lay the foundations of her home % in a new and strange environment; at Fort Winnebago she was to usher into the world her first-born child; and from the ex- periences and contacts of her three years' residence there she was to produce our pres- ent narrative, which after a century of time retains its power to charm and instruct the reader. The narrative opens with the departure of the Henry Clay from Detroit. Autobio- graphical in character, it depicts, in chatty, journalistic fashion, the life of the north- western frontier from 1830 to 1833 as it pre- sented itself to our author's observation; for the rest, it relates the lore, more or less his- torical, of the Kinzie family, as it was told to her by her husband's mother, Mrs. Eleanor Kinzie of Chicago. Notwithstanding the intimate character of her theme, no one could be more circum- spect in her revelations than our author, or more firmly silent concerning matters she xxii J^tetortcal Sntrobuctton did not choose to disclose. She stood, in- deed, at the opposite pole from the present- day "confessional" school of writers, and nothing would have been more abhorrent to her than the disclosure of anything unflat- tering to a member of her family. Her out- look was that of the romancer and idealist, who selected from her storehouse of infor- mation such facts as suited her literary pur- pose. Inevitably her work reflects her own personality and outlook upon life, some ac- quaintance with which is essential to the un- derstanding of the volume before the reader. Mrs. Kinzie was born in Middletown, Connecticut, September II, 1806, and on her mother's side possessed a distinguished lineage. One of the English gentlemen who in 1630 joined the Puritan migration to the New World and assisted in the founding of Massachusetts was Henry Wolcott of Tol- land, Somerset County, England. A few years later Wolcott migrated to the Con- necticut Valley, where he became a founder of the town of Windsor, of which he re- mained an influential citizen until his death in 1655. Half a dozen years later, Martha Pitkin, an unusual young woman, came out from England to Connecticut on the errand of finding a brother and persuading him to return to his home and family. Her advent xxiii ^tetortcal Sntrobuctton "put the colony in commotion. If possible she must be detained; the stock was too valuable to be parted with." The leaders of the colony gravely debated what young man was good enough to be put forward as a can- didate for her hand, and the choice fell upon Simon Wolcott of Windsor, a son of Henry YVolcott. His suit was successful, and the voung English woman remained in Con- necticut to become the progenitor of a dis- tinguished line. A historian of the family observes that although the earlier Wolcotts were men of good intellect and ability, the union with Martha Pitkin introduced a more brilliant strain of talent into the fam- ily; and that, ever since, the chief talent of the Wolcott family has appeared in the line of her descendants. One of her sons was Roger Wolcott, Gov- ernor, Judge, and Major General, leader of the Connecticut troops at the siege of Louis- burg. His son, Alexander Wolcott, graduate of Yale in 1731, became a noted surgeon of his day. He was a man of learning, possess- ing a large and well-selected library, consist- ing largely of "ponderous tomes" in Greek and Latin. Like his father before him, he sometimes dabbled in verse. His son, Alex- ander, graduated from Yale in 1776 and fol- lowed the profession of law. He was for xxiv ^fetorical Sntrobuctton many years the acknowledged leader of the Republican party in Connecticut. This al- legiance prevented him from achieving high public station, but he had the confidence of successive Republican presidents, and long held the office of Collector at Middletown. President Madison nominated him to the U. S. Supreme Court, but the Senate re- fused to confirm the nomination. John M. Niles, U. S. Senator, and Postmaster Gen- eral in the Cabinet of President Van Buren, characterized him as "a gigantic stature marked with prominent and intelligent fea- tures, with a mind not less gigantic. . . . He was the Atlas [of his party in Connecticut] against which the shafts of his political op- ponents were continually directed; but amid all the rage of the political storm he remained unmoved, firm in his integrity, unshaken in his purposes, untiring in his efforts, until, their wrath having spent itself, they were constrained to pay homage to his inflexible integrity and stern Republican virtues." Alexander Wolcott was the maternal grandfather of Juliette Magill. Middletown was but a small place in the time of her girlhood, and the possession of such a grand- parent (he died in 1828, only two years be- fore her marriage) must have proved an important factor in molding her early life. He XXV ©tetortcal Sntrobucttott was a man of learning and the owner of an excellent library. He died possessed of prop- erty appraised by his executors in excess of $13,000, which means that he enjoyed sub- stantial prosperity, if not great wealth. His widow was a second wife, who had ample means of her own. His property, therefore, aside from her dower interest, was be- queathed to his four children, but with a significant provision respecting the share of Frances Magill, his eldest child and the mother of Juliette. Her portion was seques- tered in the hands of trustees, who were to pay her the annual income as long as she should live; if, however, they should at any time become convinced that the inheritance could be secured for her sole use, they were instructed to convey the principal to her. The provision for safeguarding Frances Magill's inheritance was occasioned by a serious tragedy in the life of her family. Arthur W. Magill was her second husband (she was not yet twenty at the time of their marriage), and Juliette Augusta was their first-born child. The Magill family was not an old one in Middletown, and but little has been found concerning it. The first United States census of 1790 lists but two Magills as heads of families in all Connecticut, which seems to imply that its establishment in the xxvi SNtftorical Sntrobuction state was an event of recent occurrence. One of the two was Arthur Magill, presum- ably the father of Arthur W., subsequently the husband of Frances Wolcott. In 1817 a branch of the Bank of the United States was established in Middletown, with Arthur W. Magill as cashier. Since his father-in-law, Alexander Wolcott, was the acknowledged head of the Republican party in the state, and high in the confidence of President Madison, the surmise seems reasonable that Wolcott's influence was exerted to procure the cashiership for Magill. Three years later the discovery was made that the funds had been misused, and in November, 1820, Magill was dismissed under the cloud of this situation. He soon left the state, residing for a year or two at Fishkill, New York, and subsequently at New Hartford, where he had lived for several years at the time of his daughter's marriage in the summer of 1830. A few years later he found a final sanctuary on a farm near Utica, Illinois, where he died on or about June 14, 1854. His will, made at Chicago in September, 1 8 5 1 , left his property to his two sons, and to his eldest daughter this significant tribute: " My daughter Juli- ette, the wife of Jno. H. Kinzie, Esqr., being well provided with the good things of this World I can offer her nothing from my xxvii 3£tetortcal Jfntrobuctton limited means but my Blessing. She has always been a kind, dutiful, and affectionate Daughter to me and God Almighty will re- ward her, not only for that, but for the thou- sand good Acts of kindness she has bestowed on the suffering and destitute in this World." Juliette Magill was a child of fourteen at the time financial disaster overtook her fa- ther. Nothing has been learned of her movements during the ten years which in- tervened between this time and her mar- riage in 1830, save the fact that she was living in New Hartford at the latter date. Whether she accompanied her parents in their several removals, or remained in Mid- dletown with her grandparents, remains a matter of speculation. Dr. Thwaites, editor of the Caxton Club reprint of Wau-Bun in 1901, observes that she "appears to have lived much in the national metropolis, and to have enjoyed a wide and intimate ac- quaintance with the 'best families' of the city; her education was certainly not neg- lected." Of the residence in New York City, we have found no evidence; but evidence of her education is ample in her books and in her later life at Chicago; while the grand- daughter of Alexander Wolcott, and the rela- tive, even though distant, of Oliver Wolcott, Secretary of the Treasury, founder of the xxviii ©tetorical Sntrobuctton Bank of North America, and ten times gov- ernor of Connecticut, could hardly be un- familiar with the best society of her time and place. Although the misconduct of her fa- ther must have entailed humiliation and suf- fering upon the members of his family, his daughter retained the outlook upon life of one of assured social station, and this fact her readers are never suffered to forget. One of her mother's brothers was Alexan- der Wolcott, born February 14, 1790. He graduated from Yale in the class of 1809, studied medicine, and from 18 12 to 18 17 was a surgeon's mate and surgeon of the regular army. At the latter date he left the service to begin the practice of medicine at Vin- cennes, Indiana, and in 18 19 he abandoned this to accept the appointment of Indian agent at Chicago. Here he came into inti- mate contact with the family of John Kinzie, who since 1804 (save for the four-year inter- val from 1 812 to 1 8 16) had been living across the river from the fort. John H. Kinzie, the eldest son, a youth of sixteen in 18 19, was already absent from home, in the employ of the American Fur Company at Mackinac. The remaining Kinzie children were Ellen Marion, a girl of fourteen; Maria Indiana, a child of eleven; and Robert Allen, a boy of nine. Marriageable young women were in xxix Utetortcal Sntrobuction great demand on the frontier, and if nor- mally attractive were not suffered long to retain their single estate. In 1823 Dr. Wol- cott led Ellen Marion to the altar. He is the "dear relative" of our author's opening pages, whose letters from the "Indian coun- try" had thrilled her in girlhood. His union with Ellen Kinzie naturally prepared the way for the subsequent acquaintance of John H. Kinzie with his niece, although when they first met, or how their courtship was conducted, must be left to speculation. Quite possibly the love affair was engen- dered by the descriptions which Dr. Wolcott undoubtedly supplied to each of the parties concerning the other. At any rate Mrs. Kin- zie had never seen the West until her wed- ding journey was undertaken; and if her husband had ever been East, prior to his tour to claim his bride, it must have been on some visit of but fleeting duration. The story of the Kinzie family begins with the Seven Years' War, which devastated the world from 1756 to 1763. According to the family tradition, Reverend William Hali- burton came from Ireland to Canada about the year 1757 to serve as chaplain in the Sixtieth, or Royal American, Regiment. As often, tradition proves inaccurate, for prior to Wolfe's conquest of Quebec no English XXX 2£tetortcal Hhttrobuctton officer could have left Ireland with Canada as his destination; nor does the official army list contain the name of Haliburton as chap- lain of the Sixtieth Regiment. Whatever the precise facts respecting his career may be, it is certain that Haliburton died, or otherwise removed himself from the scene, prior to the close of the war, leaving a widow and a young daughter, named Alice, to mourn his loss. The widow soon remarried, the new hus- band being a Scotchman named John Mc- Kenzie, who had been appointed surgeon in the Royal Americans on February 2, 1756. Since this regiment was raised in America in December, 1755, it may reasonably be sup- posed that McKenzie had been a resident here prior to that time. His name disap- pears from the army list after 1762, and since his son, John, was born at Quebec, De- cember 27, 1763, it seems fairly certain that Surgeon McKenzie died some time during this year. Widowed a second time, Mrs. McKenzie presently found a third, and final, protector in the person of still another Scotchman and soldier, William Forsyth. Forsyth is supposed to have served under Wolfe at Quebec, and to have married Mrs. McKenzie there. Although there is no lack of family tradition concerning his further XXXI historical Sutrobuctton movements, the details related are so con- tusing that it seems impossible to determine the precise truth concerning them. The Kinzie tradition represents that he removed from Quebec to New York and from there, apparently after a lapse of some years, to Detroit. Thomas R. Forsyth, a grandson of William, definitely states that his grand- father came to Detroit as an officer in the Eighth Foot Regiment, and leaving the army, remained here permanently; while official records disclose that the Eighth \\ giment was brought to America only in ,. From the mass of conflicting state- ments, two pertinent contemporary records stand out: William Forsyth II, eldest son of William and Ann (McKenzie) Forsyth, was born September ( y> [765, from which it may be inferred that his parents were married some time in 1-04; the other fact is that Alice Haliburton, daughter of Mrs. Forsyth, was married to Sampson Fleming of De- troit on June 17, 1768. Since Fleming had been stationed at Detroit since 1762, and since proximity of the parties concerned com- monly precedes marriage, it seems to follow that the Forsyths had settled at Detroit prior to this date. Here William Forsyth kept an inn which has become noted in local annals, acquired a fine farm in Grosse xxxii Historical Sntrobuctton Pointe, Detroit's present-day Gold Coast section, and prospered generally until his death about the year 1795. In the years from 1765 to 1774 his wife presented him with five sons, aside from the daughter, Alice Haliburton, and the son, John Mc- Kenzie, whom she had brought to him in marriage. The family had come to Detroit as British subjects, of course, and British they remained until after the American oc- cupation in 1796. The Jay Treaty, which prepared the way for this development, per- mitted the residents of Detroit to elect their future allegiance, with the provision that those who did not within one year make pub- lic profession of their desire to remain Brit- ish subjects would be regarded as American citizens. Some of the Forsyth connection now crossed the river, there to continue to live under the British flag; others remained in Detroit and by this election automati- cally became citizens of the new government. Many of them (or their descendants) figure in the pages of Wau-Bun^ and will be identi- fied to the reader as they come upon the scene. Alice Haliburton, elder half-sister of John McKenzie and the Forsyth children, on growing to womanhood, in June, 1768, married Sampson Fleming, who since 1762 had been Deputy Commissary of Stores at xxxiii historical Sntrobuction Detroit. Although for years a British offi- cial, during the Revolution Fleming's loyalty was called in question, quite probably un- justly, tor it is difficult to perceive what pos- sible motive tor disloyalty he could have had. At any rate he removed to New York City and there died. I lis widow subse- quently married Nicholas Low, and her de- viants were long prominent in New York City. We come at length to John Mckenzie, who was brought to Detroit in childhood by bis parent, and here grew to manhood in the stormy years of the American Revolution. The family tradition ot his early years, as erved by his descendants, is in many re- spects sadly inaccurate. Until thirty-three years of his lite had passed, he was, ot course, a British subject. His tormative years were spent at the very center of British military and governmental power in the western country, where the banner of St. George was almost constantly in view, and the sound of drum and fife and the measured tread of the Redcoats filled the ears. The son of one British soldier and the step-son of another, surrounded on every side by Brit- ish associates and British influences, it was as inevitable that John McKenzie should be a loyal subject of England as that, xxxiv ^tetortcal 3fntrotmctton in another place and time, Abraham Lin- coln should be a loyal citizen of the United States. Reinforcing the other influences contribu- ting to this result, was that of economic neces- sity. The Indian trade offered almost the only opportunity to an enterprising youth of De- troit in this period. Kinzie (in early manhood he shortened his name, spelling it indifferently Kenzie or Kinzie) embarked upon it in early life and to it devoted practically his entire career. For several years the scene of his op- erations was the Maumee country, where he dealt with the red allies of Great Britain, among whom no American dared show his "carcass." He was energetic and shrewd, and by 1789 he had a considerable establish- ment at the Maumee-YVabash portage, where now is the city of Fort Wayne. For several years this spot was the goal of suc- cessive American armies, whose operations certainly implanted no love for America in Kinzie's heart. In 1790 General Harmar reached the place, and Indian wigwams and British trading houses were burned impar- tially. Kinzie now located at the mouth of the AuGlaize, farther down the Maumee, where he remained until 1794, when General Wayne again put Indians and traders to flight and erected a fortress which he grimly XXXV historical Kntrobuctton named Defiance. A second time Kinzie's business had been destroyed and himself driven into flight by an American army. For the next two or three vears he found ref- uge and occupation at Detroit, which he probably still looked upon as his home. Fol- lowing the American occupation, in [796, he in the process of evolution into an Ameri- can. About this time (prior to [798 at any rate) he established himself anew in the Indian trade at ancient St. Joseph in southwestern Michigan, where the land trails from Fort Wayne and from Detroit to Chicago, and the water route via the St. Joseph and Kankakee livers all centered, From St. Joseph, he re- moved to Chicago in 1804, but his name is still attached to a small stream in the vicin- itv of his former residence. Much of the contents of IVau-lhm, and indeed the inspiration for the production of the book by Mrs. Kinzie, were supplied to her by her mother-in-law, Eleanor Little Kinzie. The Littles of America are supposed to be descendants of a family of this name which anciently flourished in Normandy, and by successive migrations became estab- lished in England, Scotland, Ireland, and the American colonies. The family found a foothold in Pennsylvania at least two hun- dred years ago, and is now numerously rep- xxxvi J^tetortcal 3tttroimctton resented there. About the year 1770 John Little, of Scotch-Irish origin, migrated from Lancaster County to Plum Creek, a few miles east of Pittsburgh. In the Revolution he actively supported the Royal cause and in consequence became an object of antipa- thy to the Revolutionists, from whose venge- ance he sought refuge at Detroit, leaving his family behind. Promptly upon the receipt at Detroit of news of the signing of the treaty of peace, Little returned to Pittsburgh to re- join his family, having taken the precaution to procure a certificate of safe conduct from the British commandant of Detroit before departing. On his arrival, he was imprisoned by the authorities and menaced with hang- ing for his obnoxious wartime activities. He managed to escape, however, and again found refuge in Detroit, where his family soon followed him, and where he remained until his death in 18 17. One of John Little's daughters was Elea- nor, who was born about the time of his re- moval to Plum Creek in 1770. The story of her long captivity among the Seneca of western New York during the war provides one of JVau-Buns most interesting chapters, although in the telling the sober facts of her experience have been confused beyond the possibility of unraveling. She was about xxxvn 3£tetorical Sntrobuctton fourteen or fifteen years of age when she once more became an inmate of her father's home at Detroit. A year or two later she married Daniel McKillip, who had served as a sergeant in the noted Tory corps known as Butler's Rangers. The close of the war left many disbanded soldiers and destitute Loy- alists at Detroit, who naturally looked to the government for relief. Provision was made for them by setting aside a tract of land extending eastward from the mouth of the Detroit River for many miles along the north shore of Lake Erie, to which the name New Settlement was given. Here scores of Loyalists and ex-soldiers were colonized on grants of two hundred acres each, and the town of Colchester, laid out on an elaborate and comprehensive city plan, was founded to serve as the market and governmental center of the settlement. One of the colonists was McKillip, whose grant lay about a mile east of the town. Here he settled with his young wife, and to- gether they took up the arduous task of transforming their wild land into a culti- vated farm. Several years had passed and three children had been born when a sad disaster overtook the developing family. In 1794 the military power of British Detroit was embodied to march to the Maumee, xxxviii J^tetorical Sntrobuction there to oppose the army of General Wayne. As a captain of local militia, McKillip re- sponded to the summons. Although an open conflict between the British and American armies was averted, many of the Detroit militia fought as volunteers in the ranks of the Indian army which Wayne defeated at Fallen Timbers, and several of them per- ished in the conflict. Among them was Mc- Killip, whose young widow was thus left alone on her frontier farm, with her brood of small children, the youngest an infant in arms. She had numerous relatives, how- ever, to whom she might look for comfort, and for such assistance as they could afford her. Her parents were living in Grosse Pointe, near neighbors of Inn-Keeper For- syth and his bevy of stalwart sons. One of these this same year married Margaret Little, younger sister of Eleanor McKillip, and established his home at Sandwich, across the river from Detroit. It was in their home that John H. Kinzie, our author's husband, was born a few years later. This same year, too, a daughter was born to Mrs. McKillip, on whom the name Margaret, in honor of her sister, was bestowed. She figures in JVau-Bun as the wife of Lieutenant Helm, and as the narrator of most of the story of the Fort Dearborn Massacre of 1812. xxxix Utetorical Sntrobuctton The union of Margaret Little and William Forsyth doubtless helped to prepare the way for the next development in our story. One day in January, 1798, John Kinzie rode down to Colchester, attended by no less than three of his half-brothers, and there before Dr. William Harffy, surgeon of the Fort Maiden garrison, exchanged marriage vows with Eleanor McKillip. The bride, now be- come Eleanor Kinzie, abandoned forever her New Settlement farm and began life anew, as the wife of the St. Joseph trader. That the marriage was a fortunate one for her there can be no doubt. Kinzie prospered at St. Joseph, and, until the War of 18 12 in- volved him in fresh disaster, at Chicago. During the years from 1804 to 18 12 he was in partnership with his half-brother, Thomas Forsyth, who maintained his residence at Peoria, while Kinzie conducted the business of the firm at Chicago, where he maintained, as Jean Baptiste Point Sable had done twenty years earlier, an extensive trading establishment. As a resident of St. Joseph, Kinzie automatically exchanged his British allegiance for that of an American citizen, and in course of time he became American in thought and ideal, as well as in legal status. By careful suppression of any mention of the British and Tory background of her hus- xl J[f tetortcal Sntrobuttion band's parents, Mrs. Kinzie produces upon the reader of Wau-Bun the impression that they were always ardently American in sympathy and deed. This is wholly mis- leading, of course, as our brief recital suffi- ciently shows. It would have been difficult to find in all America in 1795 two people who had better grounded reasons for hating and fearing the United States than John Kinzie and Eleanor McKillip. The Revolu- tion, and in the Detroit area the War of 1812 as well, was in a very real sense a civil war; the adherents of neither side were possessed of any monopoly of morals or virtue, and one will largely misunderstand this portion of our narrative who permits himself to ascribe to the actors of 1775 or 1800 the sentiments of fervid Americanism which animated our author in the middle period of the following century. Upon John Kinzie the War of 1812 im- posed irreparable disaster. Not only were his trading establishments broken up, with heavy losses in goods and in credits, but the northwestern Indians, in whose trade his lifetime activity centered, were broken and ruined by the war. Although he returned to Chicago in 18 16 and strove to reestablish his business and recoup his losses, the effort proved futile. Never again did the prosper- xli Utetottcal Sntrobuctton ity of the pre-war years return to him. By securing government employment, and by other exertions, he managed to support his family, but as late as 1822 he was hopelessly involved with his creditors, and he died six years later with the shadow of financial de- feat still hanging over him. The family "mansion," which is charmingly described in Wau-Bun^ was now abandoned by his widow, who lived until 1834, making her home for several years with John H. Kinzie, who in addition assumed the care, from time to time, of a number of his father's depend- ents. A chapter in John Kinzie's life which is carefully excluded from the pages of Wau- Bun must now receive our attention. Once more our story reverts to the troubled years of the American Revolution. For several decades the Indians of the Northwest con- ducted murderous raids upon the Pennsyl- vania-Virginia border, slaying hundreds of settlers and carrying other hundreds into a captivity which frequently was more dread- ful than death itself. Many of the captives perished miserably under torture, or of ill- treatment and abuse, while many adopted the Indian mode of life, and lost, sooner or later, all desire to return to their former as- sociations. Living in the New River Valley xlii ^tetortcal Sntrobuctton of western Virginia, during the Revolution, was the family of Moredock O. McKenzie, who had migrated thither from Culpeper County a few years earlier. One morning in May, 1778, the settler, accompanied by his oldest son, started out in search of some horses which had strayed away. He returned to find his home in ashes and its inmates dead or vanished. A party of Shawnee from western Ohio had slain Mrs. McKenzie and three of the children, and carried away with them the remaining two, Margaret, ten years of age, and Elizabeth, a child of eight. Years passed, the captives grew to womanhood, and in due time were seen and coveted by two British traders from Detroit, Margaret by John Kinzie and Elizabeth by a man named Clark. Whether any priest or magis- trate celebrated the marriage vows of the two couples is a question which has been much and needlessly disputed. Both law and common sense unite in regarding as valid marriage the estate of those who volun- tarily cooperate in the enterprise of founding a home and rearing a family. Particularly on the frontier, where there might be no magistrate within hundreds of miles, and where priests might be absent for years to- gether, were such unions consummated without the formal assistance of either. Two xliii I^fetorical Jfntrotmctton children had been born to the Clarks and three to the Kinzies, when Wayne's conquest of the northwestern tribes restored peace to the frontier. Thereupon Moredock McKen- zie journeyed to Detroit in search of his long-lost children, and when he returned to Virginia both accompanied him, taking their children with them and abandoning forever their husbands. Contradictory explanations of this domestic tragedy, colored in each case by the partisan pride of the narrator, have been advanced by later descendants of Kinzie. In the absence of contemporary evidence, the historian may reasonably infer that only some serious motive, possibly con- nected with the conduct of the husbands, would have induced the wives to break up their families, or Moredock McKinzie to abet them in such a procedure. Bereft of wife and children, Kinzie, as we have seen, found a new mate in Eleanor Mc- Killip. In Virginia, meanwhile, Margaret Kinzie married Benjamin Hall, while Eliza- beth Clark became the wife of Jonas Cly- bourn. Hall and his wife lived out their lives in Virginia, where some of their descendants have been prominent citizens in recent years. After Kinzie's return to Chicago in 1816, two of his children by Margaret McKenzie, James, who had been born at Detroit in xliv SHatorical Sntrobuctton April, 1793, and Elizabeth, his sister, made their way to Chicago. Here James engaged for a time in the Indian trade, married Leah See, and lived a reputable citizen until about the year 1836, when he removed to Racine County, Wisconsin. Shortly after 1850 he removed to Iowa County, where he con- ducted prosperous farming and milling en- terprises, held numerous local offices, and was regarded as a leading citizen, until his death in 1866. At Chicago he had been a builder of houses and inns, had served as trustee of the school section, as first sheriff of Cook County, and as holder of other local offices. More interesting, perhaps, is the fact that he loyally aided John Kinzie in the days of the latter's adversity, and in a period (the early twenties) when his children by his second marriage were too young to afford him any assistance. Elizabeth Kinzie, meanwhile, was married at Chicago in July, 1826, to Samuel Miller, her father, as magistrate, performing the ceremony. Although specific information on the point is lacking, it seems probable that she had been an inmate of his house during the years since her coming to Chicago. Miller was one of Chicago's earliest inn-keepers. He was also engaged in trade, and was one of the early commissioners of Cook County. In xlv SMsrtortcal Sntrobuctton the summer of 1832 Mrs. Miller died, after which her husband removed with his three motherless children to the vicinity of Michi- gan City, where William Kinzie, eldest child of John and Margaret Kinzie had previously settled. None of the descendants and apologists of John Kinzie have ever suggested that he se- cured a formal divorce from Margaret, his first wife. Such divorce could only have been obtained from the legislature of the North- west Territory, and the records disclose that the first act of this body granting a divorce was passed in December, 1800, almost three years after Kinzie's union with Eleanor Mc- Killip. Yet the Forsyths and Littles were rep- utable families of Detroit and vicinity and Dr. Harffy, as local magistrate, performed the marriage ceremony. Evidently none of the parties concerned in the transaction regarded Kinzie's union with Mrs. McKillip as a biga- mous or sinful one. The frontier has ever paid scant heed to the formalities of legal procedure, and it was quite in keeping with the frontier state of mind to assume that the fact of separation between Kinzie and his first wife constituted a dissolution of the marriage bond. A generation later, how- ever, Juliette Magill, sophisticated product of Puritan New England, was unable to xlvi 3£tetorical Sntrobuction contemplate with like tolerance the presence of a second Kinzie family in Chicago, with its implicit challenge to the legitimacy of the one into which she had married. She could not explain the situation in her book in a manner satisfactory to herself, and she met the dilemma by suppressing all mention of it, even at the cost, in at least one instance, of a clear-cut perversion of the truth. Some of her own children at a later day, with less discretion, attempted to preserve John Kin- zie from any imputation of possible fault by ungenerously attributing the entire re- sponsibility for the dissolution of his first marriage to the supposed misconduct of Margaret Kinzie. Descendants of Kinzie by the latter retorted the accusation with bitterness born of partisan pride, and the dispute thus engendered still remains unde- termined. Until the summer of 1833 Fort Winne- bago remained the home of our author. Meanwhile the tide of western migration had reached Lake Michigan and was now pouring floodlike into the wilderness extending west- ward to the Mississippi. Almost overnight, Chicago woke from its age-long lethargy and launched noisily upon the marvellous development which shortly the Century of Progress Exposition is to celebrate. In 1830, xlvii Historical Sntrotmctton roused by the first faint impact of the ap- proaching boom, Robert A. Kinzie had entered at the land office, on behalf of his mother's family, the 102-acre tract lying north of the river between State Street and the lake, which embraced the Kinzie home- stead. For the Kinzies, no less than for the red men, the end of an era was at hand. In 1833 John H. Kinzie resigned his appoint- ment as Indian agent at Fort Winnebago and returned to Chicago to subdivide the family homestead and market it in the form of lots in the Kinzie Addition. Fur trade and wilderness were for him henceforth but a memory. The Kinzie lots were sold too soon to reap the vast wealth which more patient foresight would have secured, but enough was realized to render the family prosperous beyond the wildest imagination of a few years earlier. John H. Kinzie died in 1865, and Mrs. Kinzie in 1870. For almost a third of a century they were num- bered among the substantial citizens of Chi- cago, their home a center of whatever social and cultural life the period could boast. Between the pulsing, virile, commercial city of the fifties and the somnolent fur trade outpost of three decades earlier a great gulf was fixed. Almost alone among literate Chi- cagoans the Kinzie family spanned it, going xlviii ^tetortcal Sntrobuctton back, as Abraham Lincoln once remarked, to a time beyond which the local memory did not run. For Mrs. Kinzie the Fort Win- nebago years constituted an idyllic period, whose memory she never ceased to cher- ish. In Mark Logan the Bourgeois, written by her near the close of life, and placed in the identical setting in which the author's own wilderness idyl was lived, Grace Lati- mer, an eastern girl en route for the first time to the Wisconsin of 1 827, is made to say, in answer to the question whether she does not expect to become bored with the West: "Certainly not. On the contrary I expect to be continually more and more delighted. I have enjoyed myself a thousandfold more than I had anticipated, although I am but on the very outset of my adventures. I am pre- pared to be in a continuous state of rapture when I get to the wild woods and prairies, beyond the bounds of civilization." Grace Latimer was but the fictional prototype of Mrs. Kinzie herself, and if this statement does not represent with entire precision her own state of mind on coming to Wisconsin in 1830, it at least discloses what as an old woman, dwelling upon the memories of her past, she imagined herself to have felt. Her entrance upon the field of literature came about naturally enough. Eleanor Kin- xlix ^fetortcal Sntrobuctton zie, whose life typifies as well as any that can be named the pioneer American woman, had a prescient realization of the interest future generations would take in her life story, and she urged her talented daughter- in-law to reduce it to literary form for the enjoyment of those who should come after her. The younger woman responded to the appeal, and years before the publication of Wau-Bun in 1856 she had formulated many of the stories which were subsequently in- corporated in the book. Some of them were recited for the entertainment of Fredrika Bremer, the Swedish novelist, who visited Chicago in 1850 and who warmly commended the tales and urged Mrs. Kinzie to preserve them in print for the benefit of a wider au- dience. A beginning to this end had in fact been made in 1844 with the publication (anonymously) in pamphlet form of the nar- rative of the Chicago massacre, which has been discussed, paraphrased, and appropri- ated almost from the moment of its appear- ance until the present time. At length, in 1856 the collection of stories was published by Derby and Jackson of New York and Cincinnati as an octavo volume of 498 pages, with illustrations drawn by the author. In 1857 a second edition, unchanged save for the title page, appeared under the imprint 1 ^tetortcal Sntrobuctton of D. B. Cooke and Company of Chicago. Several reprints have since appeared, the only ones that need be noted here being the one by the Caxton Club of Chicago in 1901, edited and annotated by Dr. R. G. Thwaites, and the one issued at Menasha, Wisconsin, in 1930, edited by Dr. Louise P. Kellogg. The reception accorded Wau-Bun induced Mrs. Kinzie to continue her literary career, and in the closing decade of her life two nov- els, Walter Ogilby and Mark Logan the Bour- geois ', were produced. Both are works of ro- mantic fiction, presenting an outlook upon life strikingly resembling that which finds expression in Wau-Bun. In Mark Logan the author has embodied in fictional guise the life and scenes of her own Wisconsin sojourn from 1830 to 1833. Many of the characters are identical with those encountered in the pages of Wau-Bun y and the language they are made to employ is not more formal, nor the conversations uttered more clearly the author's own invention, than those encoun- tered in Wau-Bun itself. To the latter volume some further at- tention must be devoted. The pamphlet published in 1844 (chapters XVIII to XX of Wau-Bun) seemed to present a detailed and authentic narrative of the Chicago massacre, related by eye-witnesses and participants in li historical Sntrobuctton that tragic event. As such it was indiscrimi- natingly accepted by the public, and was almost immediately incorporated by Henry Brown in his History of Illinois, published in the same year. Brown's example found early and frequent imitation both among writers of fiction and formal historians; so that M . in his Illinois, published in 1889, could say that "without exception" histo- rians had relied upon it for their facts in regard to the massacre, and Dr. Thwaites in 1901 could repeat, substantially, Moses' observation. The interest of the local histo- rians, however, was confined, in the main, to the massacre narrative, which comprises but three of the thirty-eight chapters of Wau- Bun; and the three belong to that portion of the book where the author pretends to no knowledge of her own, but merely records information received at second or third hand, and carried in memory for many years be- fore being related to her. To the present writer it seems clear that Mrs. Kinzie had but the vaguest compre- hension of the historian's calling, and that in appraising JVau-Bun the reader should regard her as a literary artist, whose primary ambition was to produce an entertaining narrative. In large part the volume is auto- biographical, and to this extent it belongs lii SMgtortcal Sntrobuctum to the category which in the shop-talk of historians is denominated source material. As such it has undoubted value, but this value is frequently quite other than that which appears on the face of the narrative. The scenes depicted by her have commonly a certain factual basis, but into the recital of them much imaginative fiction is inter- woven. Accuracy of statement is clearly not her forte, while to the objective detachment of the historian she is a complete stranger. Yet she succeeds well in creating a life-like picture of the current scene of her daily activities and experiences. Her ardent love of nature, and her sympathetic appreciation of her husband's native wards in a day when the terrible motto that the only good Indian was a dead one still held almost universal sway over the minds of her con- temporaries, are both deserving of warmest praise. For Chicago readers, her book has a par- ticular significance not shared by those who are alien to the Windy City. So thoroughly has her narrative of the Kinzie family and of the massacre permeated the local mind, that not all the efforts of all the historians, prob- ably, will ever succeed in replacing it with a more correct and judicial concept. Through her literary exploit, John Kinzie has become liii historical Sntrobuctton the Captain John Smith of Chicago history. The present printing of Wau-Bun repro- duces verbatim, in the main, the text of the first edition of 1856. It has not been deemed desirable, however, to perpetuate certain ob- vious misprints and other typographical errors which are found in the original edition. For the correction of these, as well as for the preparation of the Historical Introduction and Index, and the footnotes which are identified by the signature "Ed.", the Editor assumes responsibility. M. M. Quaife Detroit Public Library April, 1932 liv WAU-BUN, THE "EARLY DAY" IN THE NORTH-WEST. BY MRS. JOHN H. KINZIE, OF CHICAGO. WLify Illustrations. NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY DERBY & JACKSON, 119 NASSAU STREET. CINCINNATI : H. W. DERBY & Co. 1856 TO THE Hon. Lewis Cass, IN THE "EARLY DAY" THE TRIED FRIEND OF THE PIONEER AND THE RED MAN THE FOLLOWING MEMORIALS ARE RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED preface EVERY work partaking of the nature of an autobiography, is supposed to demand an apology to the public. To refuse such a tribute, would be to recognize the justice of the charge, so often brought against our countrymen — of a too great will- ingness to be made acquainted with the do- mestic history and private affairs of their neighbors. It is, doubtless, to refute this calumny that we find travellers, for the most part, modestly offering some such form of explana- tion as this, to the reader: "That the matter laid before him was, in the first place, simply letters to friends, never designed to be sub- mitted to other eyes, and only brought for- ward now at the solicitation of wiser judges than the author himself." No such plea can, in the present instance, be offered. The record of events in which the writer had herself no share, was pre- served in compliance with the suggestion of a revered relative, whose name often appears in the following pages. "My child," she would say, "write these things down, as I lix preface tell them to you. Hereafter our children, and even strangers will feel interested in hearing the story of our early lives and suf- ferings." And it is a matter of no small regret and self-reproach, that much, very much, thus narrated was, through negli- gence, or a spirit of procrastination, suffered to pass unrecorded. With regard to the pictures of domestic life and experience (preserved, as will be seen in journals, letters, and otherwise), it is true their publication might have been deferred until the writer had passed away from the scene of action; and such, it was supposed, would have been their lot — that they would only have been dragged forth hereafter, to show to a succeeding genera- tion, what "The Early Day," of our West- ern homes had been. It never entered the anticipations of the most sanguine that the march of improvement and prosperity would, in less than a quarter of a century, have so obliterated the traces of "the first be- ginning," that a vast and intelligent multi- tude would be crying out for information in regard to the early settlement of this por- tion of our country, which so few are left to furnish. An opinion has been expressed, that a comparison of the present times with those lx preface that are past, would enable our young peo- ple, emigrating from their luxurious homes at "the East," to bear, in a spirit of pa- tience and contentment, the slight priva- tions and hardships they are at this day called to meet with. If, in one instance, this should be the case, the writer may well feel happy to have incurred even the charge of egotism, in giving thus much of her own history. It may be objected that all that is strictly personal, might have been more modestly put forth under the name of a third person; or that the events themselves and the scenes might have been described, while those par- ticipating in them might have been kept more in the back-ground. In the first case, the narrative would have lost its air of truth and reality — in the second, the experiment would merely have been tried of dressing up a theatre for representation, and omitting the actors. Some who read the following sketches, may be inclined to believe that a residence among our native brethren and an attach- ment growing out of our peculiar relation to them, have exaggerated our sympathies, and our sense of the wrongs they have received at the hands of the whites. This is not the place to discuss that point. There is a tribunal at lxi preface which man shall be judged, for that which he has meted out to his fellow-man. May our countrymen take heed that their legislation shall never unfit them to appear ''with joy, and not with grief" before that tribunal! Chicago, July, 1855. lxii WAU-BUN The "Early Day" in the North-West The "Early Day 55 in the North-West Cfjapter I DEPARTURE FROM DETROIT IT was on a dark, rainy evening in the month of September, 1830, that we went on board the steamer "Henry Clay," to take passage for Green Bay. All our friends in Detroit had congratulated us upon our good fortune in being spared the voyage in one of the little schooners, which at this time afforded the ordinary means of communication with the few and distant settlements on Lakes Huron and Michigan. Each one had some experience to relate of his own or of his friends' mischances in these precarious journeys — long detentions on the St. Clair flats — furious head winds off Thun- der Bay, or interminable calms at Mackinac or the Manitous. That which most en- hanced our sense of peculiar good-luck, was the true story of one of our relatives hav- ing left Detroit in the month of June, and QOfje "€arlp ®ap" in fte MovfcWLt&t reached Chicago in the September follow- ing, having been actually three months in performing what is sometimes accomplished by even a sail-vessel in four days. But the certainty of encountering similar misadventures would have weighed little with me. I was now to visit, nay more, to become a resident of that land which had, for long years, been to me a region of romance. Since the time when, as a child, my highest delight had been in the letters of a dear relative, 1 describing to me his home and mode of life in the "Indian country," and still later, in his felicitous narration of a tour with General Cass, in 1820, to the sources of the Missis- sippi — nay, even earlier, in the days when I stood at my teacher's knee, and spelled out the long word Mich-i-li-mack-i-nac, that dis- tant land, with its vast lakes, its boundless prairies, and its mighty forests, had possessed a wonderful charm for my imagination. Now I was to see it! — it was to be my home! Our ride to the quay, through the dark by-ways, in a cart, the only vehicle which at that day could navigate the muddy, un- paved streets of Detroit, was a theme for much merriment, and not less so, our de- scent of the narrow, perpendicular stair-way x The allusion is to the author's uncle, Dr. Alexander Wolcott. — Ed. departure from JBttvoit by which we reached the little apartment called the Ladies' Cabin. We were highly delighted with the accommodations, which, by comparison, seemed the very climax of comfort and convenience; more especially as the occupants of the cabin consisted, beside myself, of but a lady and two little girls. Nothing could exceed the pleasantness of our trip for the first twenty-four hours. There were some officers, old friends, among the passengers. We had plenty of books. The gentlemen read aloud occasionally, admired the solitary magnificence of the scenery around us, the primeval woods, or the vast expanse of water unenlivened by a single sail, and then betook themselves to their cigar, or their game of eucre, to while away the hours. For a time the passage over Thunder Bay was delightful, but alas! it was not destined, in our favor, to belie its name. A storm came on, fast and furious — what was worse, it was of long duration. The pitching and rolling of the little boat, the closeness, and even the sea- sickness, we bore as became us. They were what we had expected, and were prepared for. But a new feature of discomfort appeared, which almost upset our philosophy. The rain, which fell in torrents, soon made its way through every seam and pore of deck or moulding. Down the stair-way, Zi)t "€arlp 2Bap" in !fte J?ortt)=3Iieat through the joints and crevices, it came, saturating first the carpet, then the bedding, until, finally, we were completely driven, "by stress of weather," into the Gentlemen's Cabin. Way was made for us very gallantly, and every provision resorted to for our com- fort, and we were congratulating ourselves on having found a haven in our distress, when lo! the seams above opened, and down upon our devoted heads poured such a flood, that even umbrellas were an insufficient pro- tection. There was nothing left for the ladies and children but to betake ourselves to the berths, which, in this apartment, for- tunately remained dry; and here we con- tinued ensconced the live-long day. Our dinner was served up to us on our pillows. The gentlemen chose the dryest spots, raised their umbrellas, and sat under them, telling amusing anecdotes, and saying funny things to cheer us, until the rain ceased, and at nine o'clock in the evening we were gladdened by the intelligence that we had reached the pier at Mackinac. We were received with the most affection- ate cordiality by Mr. and Mrs. Robert Stuart, at whose hospitable mansion we had been for some days expected. The repose and comfort of an asylum like this, can be best appreciated by those who 6 ©eparture from JBtttoit have reached it after a tossing and drench- ing such as ours had been. A bright, warm fire, and countenances beaming with kind- est interest, dispelled all sensations of fa- tigue or annoyance. After a season of pleasant conversation, the servants were assembled, the chapter of God's word was solemnly read, the hymn chanted, the prayer of praise and thanks- giving offered, and we were conducted to our place of repose. It is not my purpose here to attempt a portrait of those noble friends whom I thus met for the first time. To an abler pen than mine, should be assigned the honor of writ- ing the biography of Robert Stuart. 2 All 2 Robert Stuart was a native of Perthshire, Scotland, who migrated to Canada in early manhood, studied law, and in 1810 joined the Astorian enterprise of John Jacob Astor. Although this terminated in failure, Stuart won the confidence of Astor, and in 18 19 was sent to Mackinac as agent of the American Fur Com- pany. Here he remained until about the year 1834 when he severed his fur-trade connections and became a resident of Detroit. Here he remained a prominent citizen until his death, October 29, 1848. He died sud- denly at Chicago, where he had gone some time before to supervise the construction of the Illinois and Michi- gan Canal. His widow died at her Detroit home, September 28, 1866. The biography of Stuart, here foretold, has not yet been written, although his career well deserves such a tribute. — Ed. Cfte "Carlp ®ap" in tfje j£ortfj=Me$t who have enjoyed the happiness of his ac- quaintance, or still more, a sojourn under his hospitable roof, will carry with them, to their latest hour, the impression of his noble bearing, his genial humor, his untiring be- nevolence, his upright, uncompromising adherence to principle, his ardent philan- thropy, his noble disinterestedness. Irving in his "Astoria," and Franchere in his "Nar- rative," give many striking traits of his early character, together with events of his his- tory of a thrilling and romantic interest, but both have left the most valuable portion unsaid, his after-life, namely, as a Christian gentleman. Of his beloved partner, who still survives him, mourning on her bereaved and solitary pilgrimage, yet cheered by the recollection of her long and useful course as a "Mother in Israel," we will say no more than to offer the incense of loving hearts, and prayers for the best blessings from her Father in Heaven. Chapter 2 MICHILIMACKINAC MICHILIMACKINAC! that gem of the Lakes! How bright and beau- tiful it looked as we walked abroad on the following morning! The rain had passed away, but had left all things glitter- ing in the light of the sun as it rose up over the waters of Lake Huron, far away to the east. Before us was the lovely bay, scarcely yet tranquil after the storm, but dotted with canoes and the boats of the fishermen already getting their nets for the trout and whitefish, those treasures of the deep. Along the beach were scattered the wigwams or lodges of the Ottawas who had come to the island to trade. The inmates came forth to gaze upon us. A shout of welcome was sent forth, as they recognized Shaw-nee-aw-kee* who, from a seven years' residence among them, was well-known to each individual. 3 This was the name which had been bestowed upon John Kinzie by the Indians in recognition of his prac- tice of the art of silversmith. Following his death, apparently, the name was bestowed upon his son, John H. Kinzie. — Ed. tCfte "earlp 2Sap" in tfje i?ortf)=ffl3e*t A shake of the hand, and an emphatic "Bon- jour — bon-jour" is the customary salutation between the Indian and the white man. "Do the Indians speak French?" I in- quired of my husband. "No; this is a fash- ion they have learned of the French traders during many years of intercourse." Not less hearty was the greeting of each Canadian engage, as he trotted forward to pay his respects to "Monsieur John," and to utter a long string of felicitations, in a most incomprehensible patois. I was forced to take for granted all the good wishes show- ered upon " Madame John," of which I could comprehend nothing but the hope that I should be happy and contented in my "vie sauvage." The object of our early walk was to visit the Mission-house and school which had been some few years previously established at this place, by the Presbyterian Board of Missions. It was an object of especial inter- est to Mr. and Mrs. Stuart, and its flourish- ing condition at this period, and the pros- pects of extensive future usefulness it held out, might well gladden their philanthropic hearts. They had lived many years on the island, and had witnessed its transformation, through God's blessing on Christian efforts, from a worldly, dissipated community to 10 jWtdnltmacktnac one of which it might almost be said, "Re- ligion was every man's business." This mis- sion establishment was the beloved child and the common centre of interest of the few Protestant families clustered around it. Through the zeal and good management of Mr. and Mrs. Ferry, 4 and the fostering en- couragement of the congregation, the school was in great repute, and it was pleasant to observe the effect of mental and religious culture in subduing the mischievous, tricky propensities of the half-breed, and rousing the stolid apathy of the genuine Indian. These were the palmy days of Mackinac. 5 As the head-quarters of the American Fur Company, and the entrepot of the whole 4 Reverend David Bacon, father of the noted Congre- gational divine, Reverend Leonard Bacon, had endeav- ored, unsuccessfully, to establish a Protestant mission at Mackinac in 1802. Twenty years later, Rev. William M. Ferry, a graduate of Union College, established the Presbyterian Church at Mackinac, and labored here until 1834. He subsequently founded the town of Grand Haven, Michigan, and in this connection accumulated a fortune. A son, Thomas Ferry, a child of three years at the time of Mrs. Kinzie's visit to Mack- inac, served in the U. S. Senate in the seventies, and for two years was president of that body. — Ed. 5 A vivid picture of the activities of the American Fur Company in this period is contained in the Auto- biography of Gurdon S. Hubbard, published in the Lakeside Classics Series in 191 1. — Ed. II Zf)t "Carlp JSap" in fye i8tortf)=Mes;t North-West, all the trade in supplies and goods on the one hand, and in furs and prod- ucts of the Indian country on the other, was in the hands of the parent establishment or its numerous outposts scattered along Lakes Superior and Michigan, the Mississippi, or through still more distant regions. Probably few are ignorant of the fact, that all the Indian tribes, with the exception of the Miamis and the Wyandots, had, since the transfer of the old French possessions to the British Crown, maintained a firm alli- ance with the latter. The independence achieved by the United States did not alter the policy of the natives, nor did our Gov- ernment succeed in winning or purchasing their friendship. Great Britain, it is true, bid high to retain them. Every year the leading men of the Chippewas, Ottawas, Pottowattamies, Menomonees, Winneba- goes, Sauks and Foxes, and even still more remote tribes, journeyed from their distant homes to Fort Maiden 6 in Upper Canada, to 6 The remains of Fort Maiden may still be seen in the outskirts of Amherstburg, on the eastern bank of the Detroit River just above its entrance into Lake Erie. The fort was established by the British upon the trans- fer of Detroit to American rule in 1796, and for several decades thereafter it continued an important center of British military and governmental power in the North- west. — Ed. 12 iWkfjtltmacfemac receive their annual amount of presents from their Great Father across the water. It was a master-policy thus to keep them in pay, and had enabled those who practised it to do fearful execution through the aid of such allies in the last war between the two countries. The presents they thus received were of considerable value, consisting of blankets, broadcloths or strouding, calicoes, guns, kettles, traps, silver-works (comprising arm-bands, bracelets, brooches, and ear- bobs), looking-glasses, combs, and various other trinkets distributed with no niggardly hand. The magazines and store-houses of the Fur Company were the resort of all the upper tribes for the sale of their commodi- ties, and the purchase of all such articles as they had need of, including those above enumerated, and also ammunition, which, as well as money and liquor, their British friends very commendably omitted to fur- nish them. Besides their furs, various in kind and often of great value — beaver, otter, marten, mink, silver-gray and red fox, wolf, bear, and wild cat, musk-rat, and smoked deer- skins — the Indians brought for trade maple- sugar in abundance, considerable quantities 13 Zf\t "Carlp ©ap" m tfje J?ortf)=J!Se£rt of both Indian corn and petit-ble* beans and the folles avotnes y \ or wild-rice, while the squaws added to their quota of merchan- dize a contribution in the form of mocca- sins, hunting-pouches, mococks, or little boxes of birch-bark embroidered with por- cupine quills and filled with maple-sugar, mats of a neat and durable fabric, and toy- models of Indian cradles, snow shoes, canoes, &c, &c. It was no unusual thing, at this period, to see a hundred or more canoes of Indians at once approaching the island, laden with their articles of traffic; and if to these we add the squadrons of large Mackinac boats constantly arriving from the outposts, with the furs, peltries, and buffalo-robes collected by the distant traders, some idea may be formed of the extensive operations and im- portant position of the American Fur Com- pany, as well as of the vast circle of human beings either immediately or remotely con- nected with it. It is no w r onder that the philanthropic mind, surveying these races of uncultivated heathen, should stretch forward to the time * Corn which has been parboiled, shelled from the cob, and dried in the sun. f Literally, crazy oats. It is the French name for the Menomonees. itttrfnlimacfetnac when, by an unwearied devotion of the white man's energies, and an untiring sacri- fice of self and fortune, his red brethren might rise in the scale of social civilization — when Education and Christianity should go hand in hand, to make "the wilderness blos- som as the rose." Little did the noble souls at this day re- joicing in the success of their labors at Mack- inac, anticipate that in less than a quarter of a century there would remain of all these numerous tribes but a few scattered bands, squalid, degraded, with scarce a vestige re- maining of their former lofty character — their lands cajoled or wrested from them — the graves of their fathers turned up by the ploughshare — themselves chased farther and farther towards the setting sun, until they were literally grudged a resting place on the face of the earth ! Our visit to the Mission school was of short duration, for the "Henry Clay" was to leave at two o'clock, and in the meantime we were to see what we could of the village and its envi- rons, and after that, dine with Mr. Mitchell, an old friend of my husband. As we walked leisurely along over the white gravelly road, many of the residences of the old inhabit- ants were pointed out to me. There was the dwelling of Madame Laframboise, an Ottawa 15 Z\)t "earlp 2Sap" in tfje MovfcWLt&t woman, 7 whose husband had taught her to read and write, and who had ever after con- tinued to use the knowledge she had acquired for the instruction and improvement of the vouth among her own people. It was her cus- tom to receive a class of young pupils dailv at her house, that she might give them lessons in the branches mentioned, and also in the principles of the Roman Catholic religion, to which she was deeply devoted. She was a wom- an of a vast deal of energy and enterprise — of a tall and commanding figure, and most dignified deportment. After the death of her husband, who was killed while away at his trading-post by a Winnebago named White Ox, she was accustomed to visit herself the trading-posts, superintend the clerks and en- gages, and satisfy herself that the business was carried on in a regular and profitable manner. The Agency-house, with its unusual luxu- ries of piazza and gardens, was situated at the 7 Madam Latramboise was born about the year 1780, her father being a French trader and her mother a native woman. The murder of her husband, mentioned by Mrs. Kinzie, occurred in the vicinity of Grand Rapids, Michigan, in the early summer of 1807. She was an aunt of Jean Baptiste Chandonnai, who figured in the Chicago massacre as the rescuer of the wife of Captain Heald. A daughter of Madam Laframboise in 1 8 17 married Captain Benjamin K. Pierce, brother of President Franklin Pierce. — Ed. 16 ifWtcfjtlimacfemac foot of the hill on which the fort was built. It was a lovely spot, notwithstanding the stunted and dwarfish appearance of all cul- tivated vegetation in this cold northern lati- tude. The collection of rickety, primitive-look- ing buildings, occupied by the officials of the Fur Company, reflected no great credit on the architectural skill of my husband, who had superintended their construction, he told me, when little more than a boy. There were, besides these, the residences of the Dousmans, the Abbotts, the Biddies, the Drews, and the Lashleys, 8 stretching 8 The heads of the families enumerated were promi- nent American merchants of Mackinac in this period. Michael Dousman, a native of Pennsylvania, had been in the Northwest as early as 1796. In his later years he was reputed to be the richest citizen of Mackinac. Samuel Abbott was a member of the Abbott family, long prominent in Detroit. He was a younger brother of James Abbott, who in November, 1804, married at Fort Dearborn Sarah, daughter of Captain John Whist- ler. It was the first marriage of white people at Chicago of which any record remains. Edward Biddle was a brother of Nicholas Biddle of Philadelphia, statesman, financier, and scholar. In 18 19 he married at Mackinac a girl of French-Indian blood who was a step-daughter of Joseph Bailly, the Calumet River trader. A daughter of this union, Sophia Biddle, was educated in Philadelphia. Among her many admirers is reputed to have been a young army officer named Pemberton, who in 1863 sur- rendered his army and Vicksburg to General Grant. — Ed. 17 TOje "€arls> 3Sap" m tfje J|ortf)=aie*t away along the base of the beautiful hill, crowned with the white walls and buildings of the fort, the ascent to which was so steep, that on the precipitous face nearest the beach staircases were built by which to mount from below. My head ached intensely, the effect of the motion of the boat on the previous day, but I did not like to give up to it; so after I had been shown all that could be seen of the little settlement in the short time allowed us, we repaired to Mr. Mitchell's. We were received by Mrs. M., an ex- tremely pretty, delicate woman, part French and part Sioux, whose early life had been passed at Prairie du Chien, on the Missis- sippi. She had been a great belle among the young officers at Fort Crawford; so much so, indeed, that the suicide of the post-surgeon was attributed to an unsuccessful attach- ment he had conceived for her. I was greatly struck with her soft and gentle man- ners, and the musical intonation of her voice, which I soon learned was a distinguishing peculiarity of those women in whom are united the French and native blood. A lady, then upon a visit to the Mission, was of the company. She insisted on my lying down upon the sofa, and ministered most kindly to my suffering head. As she 18 jfflicfjthmadunac sat by my side, and expatiated upon the new sphere opening before me, she inquired: "Do you not realize very strongly the entire deprivation of religious privileges you will be obliged to suffer in your distant home?" "The deprivation," said I, "will doubtless be great, but not entire; for I shall have my Prayer-Book, and though destitute of a church, we need not be without a mode of worship." How often afterwards, when cheered by the consolations of this precious book in the midst of the lonely wilderness, did I remem- ber this conversation, and bless God that I could never, while retaining it, be without "religious privileges." We had not yet left the dinner-table, when the bell of the little steamer sounded to sum- mon us on board, and we bade a hurried farewell to all our kind friends, bearing with us their hearty wishes for a safe and pros- perous voyage. A finer sight can scarcely be imagined than Mackinac, from the water. As we steamed away from the shore, the view came full upon us — the sloping beach with the scattered wigwams, and canoes drawn up here and there — the irregular, quaint-looking houses — the white walls of the fort, and beyond one 19 tCfte "Carl? J&a?" m tfje Moxti)=WLt&t eminence still more lofty, crowned with the remains of old Fort Holmes. 9 The whole pic- ture completed, showed the perfect outline that had given the island its original Indian name, Mich-i-li-mack-i-nac , the Big Turtle. Then those pure, living waters, in whose depths the fish might be seen gliding and darting to and fro, whose clearness is such that an object dropped to the bottom may be discerned at the depth of fifty or sixty feet, a dollar lying far down on its green bed, looking no larger than a half dime. I could hardly wonder at the enthusiastic lady who exclaimed: ''Oh! I could wish to be drowned in these pure, beautiful waters!" As we passed the extreme western point of the island, my husband pointed out to me, far away to the north-west, a promon- tory which he told me was Point St. Ignace. 9 The remains of Fort Holmes may still be seen, occupying the highest point in the interior of the island, overlooking Fort Mackinac, which the British captured in July ,1812, by dragging in the night time a couple of cannon to the elevation. Upon perceiving, next morn- ing, the hopelessness of defense, Captain Hanks sur- rendered Fort Mackinac without effort at resistance. The British later fortified the height, and when the Americans recovered Mackinac at the close of the war, they named the fortification Fort Holmes, in honor of Major Andrew H. Holmes of Virginia, who was slain in the battle of Mackinac Island, Aug. 4, 1814. — Ed. 20 jUtcfjtltmackmac It possessed great historic interest, as one of the earliest white settlements on this con- tinent. The Jesuit missionaries had estab- lished here a church and school as early as 1607, the same year in which a white settle- ment was made at St. Augustine, in Florida, and one year before the founding of James- town, Virginia. 10 All that remains of the enterprises of these devoted men, is the remembrance of their labors, perpetuated, in most instances, only by the names of the spots which witnessed their efforts of love in behalf of their savage brethren. The little French church at Sand- wich, opposite Detroit, alone is left, a wit- ness of the zeal and self-sacrifice of these pioneers of Christianity. Passing "Old Mackinac," on the main land, which forms the southern border of the straits, we soon came out into the broad waters of Lake Michigan. Every traveller, and every reader of our history, is familiar with the incidents connected with the taking of the old fort by the Indians, in the days of 10 Here, as frequently throughout the narrative, Mrs. Kinzie is inaccurate in matters of historical detail. The Jesuit mission of St. Ignace was established by Mar- quette in 1670 on the mainland opposite the Island, where the town of St. Ignace has since developed. -Ed. 21 Zf)t "Carlp ©ap" in tfje J?orrt)=JUe£t Pontiac. How, by means of a game of ball, played in an apparently friendly spirit out- side the walls, and of which the officers and soldiers had come forth to be spectators, the ball was dexterously tossed over the wall, and the savages rushing in, under pretext of finding it, soon got possession and massacred the garrison. 11 The little Indian village of I ,'Arbre Croche gleamed tar away south, in the light of the setting sun. With that exception, there was no sign of living habitation along that vast and wooded shore. The gigantic forest- trees, and here and there the little glades of prairie opening to the water, showed a land- scape that would have gladdened the eye of the agriculturist, with its promise of fertil- itv; but it was evidently untrodden by the toot ot man, and we left it, in its solitude, as we took our course westward across the waters. The rainy and gusty weather, so incident to the equinoctial season, overtook us again before we reached the mouth of Green Bay, 11 The site of the fort where the massacre of 1763 occurred is included within the Michigan State Park in the outskirts of present-day Mackinaw City. Our principal knowledge of the massacre is derived from Alexander Henry's narrative of Travels and Adventures^ the Lakeside Classics volume for 1921. — Ed. 22 iWtcfnltmacfeinac and kept us company until the night of our arrival upon the flats, about three miles be- low the settlement. Here the little steamer grounded "fast and hard." As almost every one preferred braving the elements to re- maining cooped up in the quarters we had occupied for the past week, we decided to trust ourselves to the little boat, spite of wind, and rain, and darkness, and in due time we reached the shore. 23 Chapter 3 GREEN BAY OUR arrival at Green Bay was at an unfortunate moment. It was the time of a treaty between the United States Government and the Menomonees and Wau-ba-na-kees. 12 Consequently, not only the commissioners of the treaty, with their clerks and officials, but traders, claim- ants, travellers, and idlers innumerable were upon the ground. Most of these were con- gregated in the only hotel the place afforded. This was a tolerably-sized house near the river-side, and as we entered the long dining- room, cold and dripping from the open boat, we were infinitely amused at the motley assemblage it contained. Various groups were seated around. New comers, like our- selves, stood here and there, for there were 12 This term was applied by the Winnebago and Menominee to the New York Indians who migrated to Wisconsin in the twenties, and over the terms of whose proposed land grant by the adjoining Wisconsin tribes the government was endeavoring to negotiate a treaty. For an account of the issue, see Wis. Hist. Colls., II, 415 ff.— Ed. 24 (green JSap not seats enough to accommodate all who sought entertainment. Judge Arndt, 13 the landlord, sat calm and indifferent, his hands in his pockets, exhibiting all the phlegm of a Pennsylvania Dutchman. His fat, notable spouse was trotting round, now stopping to scold about some one who, "burn his skin!" had fallen short in his duty, now laughing good humoredly until her sides shook, at some witticism addressed to her. She welcomed us very cordially, but to our inquiry, "Can you accommodate us?" her reply was, "Not I. I have got twice as many people now as I know what to do with. I have had to turn my own family out of their quarters, what with the com- missioners and the lot of folks that has come in upon us." "What are we to do then? It is too late and stormy to go up to Shanty-town to seek for lodgings." "Well, sit you down and take your sup- per, and we will see what we can do." 13 John P. Arndt was a Pennsylvanian of German descent who came to Mackinac in 1822 and to Green Bay two years later. He was an energetic and capable business man, who engaged in a variety of activities and was for many years one of the leading citizens of Green Bay. — Ed. 25 W$t "€arlp ®ap" in tfje J&ortfhMest And she actually did contrive to find a little nook, in which we were glad to take refuge from the multitudes around us. A slight board partition separated us from the apartment occupied by General Root, of New York, one of the commissioners of the treaty. The steamer in which we came had brought the mail, at that day a rare blessing to the distant settlements. The opening and reading of all the dispatches, which the General received about bed-time, had, of course, to be gone through with, be- fore he could retire to rest. His eyes being weak, his secretaries were employed to read the communications. He was a little deaf withal, and through the slight division be- tween the two apartments the contents of the letters, and his comments upon them, were unpleasantly audible, as he continually admonished his secretary to raise his voice. "What is that, Walter? Read that over again." In vain we coughed and hemmed, and knocked over sundry pieces of furniture. They were too deeply interested to hear aught that passed around them, and if we had been politicians we should have had all the secrets of the working-men s party at our disposal, out of which to have made capital. 26 <©reen JBap The next morning it was still rain! rain! nothing but rain! In spite of it, however, the gentlemen would take a small boat to row to the steamer, to bring up the luggage, not the least important part of that which appertained to us, being sundry boxes of silver for paying the annuities to the Winne- bagoes at the Portage. I went out with some others of the com- pany upon the piazza, to witness their de- parture. A gentleman pointed out to me Fort Howard, on a projecting point of the opposite shore, about three-quarters of a mile distant — the old barracks, the pick- eted inclosure, the walls, all looking quaint, and, considering their modern erection, really ancient and venerable. 14 Presently we turned our attention to the boat, which had by this time gained the middle of the river. One of the passengers was standing up in the stern, apparently giving some directions. 14 Fort Howard was established in the summer of 1816, the measure being designed, in conjunction with the establishment of Fort Crawford at Prairie du Chien and the restoration of Fort Dearborn at Chicago, to afford the government military control of the region west of Lake Michigan. The French had maintained a garrison at Green Bay during the eighteenth century, and upon the conquest of Canada the British had maintained one for about two years, 1761-63. — Ed. 27 W$z "€arl|> ®ap" in tfje &oxti)=Witxt "That is rather a venturesome fellow," remarked one; "if he is not careful he will lose his balance." And at this moment we saw him actually perform a summerset back- ward, and disappear in the water. "Oh!" cried I, "he will be drowned!" The gentlemen laughed. "No, there he is; they are helping him in again." The course of the boat was immediately changed, and the party returned to the shore. It was not until one disembarked and came dripping and laughing towards me, that I recognized him as my own peculiar property. He was pleased to treat the mat- ter as a joke, but I thought it rather a sad beginning of western experience. He suffered himself to be persuaded to intrust the care of his effects to his friends, and having changed his dress, prepared to remain quietly with me, when just at this moment a vehicle drove up to the door, and we recognized the pleasant, familiar face of our old friend, Judge Doty. 15 15 James Duane Doty was a native of New York who came to Detroit as a young lawyer in 1819. Here he won the favor of Governor Cass, and through his influ- ence was appointed in 1823 U. S. judge of the court established for northern and western Michigan Terri- tory. He later became a leading Wisconsin politician, holding numerous territorial offices. He was the crea- tor of the city of Madison, which single-handed he 28 (green JSap He had received the news of our arrival, and had come to take us at once to his hospitable mansion. We were only too happy to gather together our bags and travelling baskets, and accompany him without farther ceremony. Our drive took us first along the edge of Navarino, next through Shanty-town (the latter a far more appropriate name than the former), amid mud and mire, over bad roads, and up and down hilly, break-neck places, until we reached the little brick dwelling of our friends. Mrs. Doty received us with such true, sisterly kindness, and everything seemed so full of welcome, that we soon felt ourselves at home. We found that, expecting our arrival, in- vitations had already been prepared to as- semble the whole circle of Green Bay society to meet us at an evening party — this, in a new country, being the established mode of doing honor to guests or strangers. We learned, upon inquiry, that Captain Harney, who had kindly offered to come with a boat and crew of soldiers from Fort made the capital of Wisconsin. He died as Governor of Utah, and is buried in Salt Lake City. Mrs. Doty was a daughter of General Oliver Collins of New Hart- ford, New York, the place of Mrs. Kinzie's recent residence. — Ed. 2 9 W$t "earlp ©ap" in tfje J?ortf)=»les;t Winnebago, 16 to convey us to that place, our destined home, had not yet arrived; we there- fore felt at liberty to make arrangements for a few days of social enjoyment at " the Bay." It was pleasant to people, secluded in such a degree from the world at large, to hear all the news we had brought — all the particulars of life and manners — the thousand little items that the newspapers of that day did not dream of furnishing — the fashions, and that general gossip, in short, which a lady is erroneously supposed more aufait of, than a gentleman. I well remember that, in giving and re- ceiving information, the day passed in a pretty uninterrupted stream of communica- tion. All the party except myself had made the journey, or rather voyage, up the Fox River and down the Wisconsin to the Mis- sissippi. There were plenty of anecdotes of a cer- tain trip performed by them in company, 16 Following the Winnebago War of 1 827, the govern- ment established Fort Winnebago at the Fox- Wiscon- sin portage, in the midst of the Winnebago country. This was in 1828, but construction of permanent quar- ters for the garrison was begun only in 1829. Many of the officers stationed here subsequently achieved fame in the Mexican and Civil wars. Captain William S. Harney became a brigadier general in 1863 and brevet major general two years later. — Ed. 30 #reen ?8ap along with a French trader and his two sis- ters, now making their debut as western travellers. The manner in which Mademoi- selle Julie would borrow, without leave, a fine damask napkin or two, to wipe out the ducks in preparation for cooking — the difficulty of persuading either of the sis- ters of the propriety of washing and rinsing their table apparatus nicely, before pack- ing it away in the mess-basket, the con- sequence of which was, that another nice napkin must be stealthily whisked out, to wipe the dishes when the hour for meals arrived — the fun of the young gentleman in hunting up his stray articles, thus mis- appropriated, from the nooks and corners of the boat, tying them with a cord, and hanging them over the stern, to make their way down the Wisconsin to Prairie du Chien. Then there was a capital story of M. Ro- lette 17 himself. At one point on the route (I think in crossing Winnebago Lake), the travellers met one of the Company's boats on its way to Green Bay for supplies. M. R. 17 Joseph Rolette, a native of Canada, who came to Prairie du Chien in early manhood, in 1806, and en- gaged in the Indian trade. For many years he was a prominent trader and resident of the place. He died in December, 1842. — Ed. 31 W$z "Carl? ©ap" in tfje MoxfcWltxt was one of the agents of the Company, and the people in the boat were his employes. Of course, after an absence of some weeks from home, the meeting on these lonely wa- ters and the exchanging of news was an occa- sion of great excitement. The boats were stopped — earnest greet- ings interchanged — question followed ques- tion. "Eh! bien — have they finished the new house?" "Oui, Monsieur." " Et la cheminee, fume-t-elle?" (Does the chimney smoke?) "Non, Monsieur" "And the harvest — how is that?" "Very fine, indeed." "Is the mill at work?" "Yes, plenty of water." "How is Whip?" (his favorite horse.) "Oh! Whip is first-rate." Everything, in short, about the store, the farm, the business of various descriptions being satisfactorily gone over, there was no occasion for farther delay. It was time to proceed. "Eh! bien — adieu! bon voyage!" " Arrachez — mes gens! " (Go ahead, men !) Then suddenly — " Arret ez — arretez!" (Stop, stop!) 32 (green JBap " Comment se portent Madame Rolette et les enfans?" (How are Mrs. Rolette and the children?) This day, with its excitement, was at length over, and we retired to our rest, thankful that we had not General Root and his secretary close to our bed's head, with their budget of political news. My slumbers were not destined, however, to be quite undisturbed. I was awakened, at the first slight peep of dawn by a sound from an apartment beneath our own — a plaintive, monotonous chant, rising and then falling in a sort of mournful cadence. It seemed to me a wail of something unearthly — so wild — so strange — so unaccountable. In terror I awoke my husband, who reassured me by telling me it was the morning salutation of the Indians to the opening day. Some Menomonees had been kindly given shelter for the night in the kitchen below, and having fulfilled their unvarying custom of chanting their morning hymn, they now ceased, and again composed themselves to sleep. But not so their auditor. There was to me something inexpressibly beautiful in this morning song of praise from the un- taught sons of the forest. What a lesson did it preach to the civilized, Christianized 33 tKje "Carl? ®ap" in tfte J|ortf)=Blest world, too many of whom lie down and rise up without an aspiration of thanksgiving to their Almighty Preserver — without even a remembrance of His care, who gives his angels charge concerning them! Never has the impression of that simple act of worship faded from my mind. I have loved to think that, with some, these strains might be the outpouring of a devotion as pure as that of the Christian when he utters the inspiring words of the sainted Ken — "Awake, my soul! and with the sun," &c. Among the visitors who called to offer me a welcome to the West, were Mr. and Miss Cadle, 18 who were earnestly engaged in the first steps of their afterwards flourishing en- terprise for the education of Indian and half- breed children. The school-houses and chapel were not yet erected, but we visited their proposed site, and listened with great interest to bright anticipations of the future 18 Rev. Richard F. Cadle came to Detroit in 1824 as a missionary of the Protestant Episcopal Church. This same year he organized the parish of St. Paul's, whose splendid edifice is now the Cathedral of the denomina- tion in Detroit. Eager for a more difficult field of service, he went in 1828 to Green Bay, where he estab- lished the Indian mission school alluded to by our author. The enterprise met with but a limited measure of success. — Ed. 34 (green JSap good that was to be accomplished — the suc- cess that was to crown their efforts for tam- ing the heathen, and teaching them the knowledge of their Saviour, and the bless- ings of civilized life. The sequel has shown how little the zeal of the few can accomplish, when opposed to the cupidity of the many. Our evening party went off as parties do elsewhere. The most interesting feature to me, because the most novel, was the conver- sation of some young ladies to whom I was introduced, natives of Green Bay, or its vi- cinity. Their mother was a Me-no-mo-nee, but their father was a Frenchman, a de- scendant of a settler some generations back, and who, there is reason to believe, was a branch of the same family of Grignon to which the daughter of Madame de Sevigne belonged. At least, it is said there are in the possession of the family many old papers and records which would give that impres- sion, although the orthography of the name has become slightly changed. Be that as it may, the Miss Grignons 19 were strikingly 19 At the time of which Mrs. Kinzie writes, there were several Grignon brothers at Green Bay, descend- ants of Charles Langlade the noted eighteenth-century French-British-Indian leader of Mackinac and the Northwest. The Grignon brothers were among the oldest and most influential citizens of the place. — Ed. 35 W$t "Carl? ©ap" in tfje J|ortf)=»lesrt dignified, well-bred young ladies, and there was a charm about their soft voices, and original, unsophisticated remarks, very at- tractive to a stranger. They opened to me, however, a new field of apprehension; for, on my expressing my great impatience to see my new home, they exclaimed, with a look of wonder, " Vous n'avez done pas peur des serpens?" "Snakes! was it possible there were snakes at Fort Winnebago?" "At the Portage! oh! yes — one can never walk out for them — rattle-snakes — copper- heads — all sorts!" I am not naturally timid, but I must con- fess that the idea of the serpens sonnettes and the siffieurs was not quite a subject of indif- ference. There was one among these young ladies whose tall, graceful figure, rich, blooming complexion, and dark, glancing eye, would have distinguished her in any drawing-room — and another, whose gentle sweetness and cultivated taste made it a matter of univer- sal regret that she was afterwards led to adopt the seclusion of a convent. Captain Harney and his boat arrived in due time, and active preparations for the comfort of our journey commenced under the kind supervision of Mrs. Doty. The 36 (green JSap mess-basket was stowed with good things of every description — ham and tongue — biscuit and plum-cake — not to mention the sub- stantial of crackers, bread, and boiled pork, the latter of which, however, a lady was sup- posed to be too fastidious to think of touch- ing, even if starving in the woods. We had engaged three Canadian voya- geurs to take charge of our tent, mess-basket, and matters and things in general. Their business it was to be, to cut the wood for our fires, prepare our meals, and give a helping hand to whatever was going forward. A messenger had also been sent to the Kakalin, or rapids, twenty-one miles above, to notify Wish-tay-yun (the blacksmith), the most ac- complished guide through the difficult passes of the river, to be in readiness for our service on a specified day. In the meantime, we had leisure for one more party, and it was to be a "real western hop." Every body will remember that dance at Mrs. Baird's. 20 All the people, young and old, that would be gathered throughout, or, 20 Henry S. Baird settled at Green Bay in 1829 and was perhaps the first lawyer in Wisconsin. He married Elizabeth T. Fisher, whose father had been an early American resident of Prairie du Chien. Her charming, old-age reminiscences are printed in Vol. XIV of the Wis. Hist. Calls.— Ed. 37 W$t "Carlp ®ap" in tfie JlortfhMest as it was the fashion to express it, on Green Bay, were assembled. The young officers were up from Fort Howard, looking so smart in their uniforms. Treasures of finery, long uncalled forth, were now brought to light. Everybody was bound to do honor to the strangers by appearing in their very best. It was to be an entertainment unequalled by any given before. All the house was put in requisition for the occasion. Desks and seats were unceremoniously dismissed from Mr. B.'s office, which formed one wing, to afford more space for the dancers. Not only the front portion of the dwelling, but even the kitchen was made fit for the reception of company, in case any primitive visitor, as was sometimes the case, should prefer sitting down quietly there and smoking his cigar. I do not know that this was actually done, but it was an emergency that, in those days, had always to be provided for, Nothing could exceed the mirth and hi- larity of the company. No restraint, but of good manners — no excess of conventionali- ties — genuine, hearty good-humor and en- joyment, such as pleasant, hospitable people, with just enough of the French element to add zest to anything like amusement, could furnish, to make the entertainment agree- able. In a country so new, and where, in a 38 (green JSap social gathering the number of the company- was, in a slight degree more important than the quality, the circle was not always, strictly speaking, select. For instance, the connexions of each family must be invited, even if there was something "a little pecu- liar" in their appearance, manners, or per- haps vocation, which might make their pres- ence not quite desirable. I was aware of this, and was therefore more amused than surprised when a clumsy little man, with a broad, red, laughing face, waddled across the room to where I had taken my seat after a dance, and thus addressed me: "Miss K , nobody hain't never intro- duced you to me, but I've seen you a good many times, and I know your husband very well, so I thought I might just as well come and speak to you — my name is A — dt." "Ah! Mr. A ,good evening. I hope you are enjoying yourself. How is your sister ?" "Oh! she is a great deal worse — her cold has got into her eye, and it is all shot up." Then turning full upon a lady* who sat near, radiant with youth and beauty, spar- kling with wit and genuine humor: "Oh! Mrs. Beall," he began, "what a beautiful gown you have got on, and how *A niece of James Fenimore Cooper. 39 W$t "earl? ®ap" in ti)t iBtortf)=Megt handsome you do look! I declare you're the prettiest woman in the room, and dance the handsomest." "Indeed, Mr. A ," replied she, sup- pressing her love of fun and assuming a de- mure look, "I am afraid you flatter me." "No, I don't — I'm in earnest. I've just come to ask you to dance." Such was the penalty of being too charm- ing. Poor A , in a cotillion, was not the least enlivening part of this evening's enter- tainment. 40 Chapter 4 VOYAGE UP FOX RIVER IT had been arranged that Judge Doty should accompany us in our boat as far as the Butte des Morts, at which place his attendant would be waiting with horses to convey him to Mineral Point, where he was to hold court. It was a bright and beautiful morning when we left his pleasant home, to com- mence our journey up the Fox River. Capt. Harney was proposing to remain a few days longer at "the Bay," but he called to escort us to the boat, and install us in all its com- forts. As he helped me along over the ploughed ground and other inequalities in our way to the river-bank, where the boat lay, he told me how impatiently Mrs. Twiggs, 21 the wife of the commanding officer, who, since the 21 Major David E. Twiggs was a Georgian who en- tered the army as a captain in 1812. Before he was sent as builder and first commandant of Fort Winnebago he had been stationed at Fort Howard, where he acquired an evil reputation for tyrannical and overbearing con- duct. He became a brigadier general during the Mex- ican War, but was dishonorably dismissed from the 41 W$t "Carl? ®ap" in tfie Jfrortf)=lIe$t past spring had been the only white lady at Fort Winnebago, was now expecting a com- panion and friend. We had met in New York, shortly after her marriage, and were, therefore, not quite unacquainted. I, for my part, felt sure that when there were two of us — when my piano was safely there — when the Post Library which we had pur- chased should be unpacked — when all should be fairly arranged and settled, we should be, although far away in the wilderness, the hap- piest little circle imaginable. All my antici- pations were of the most sanguine and cheer- ful character. It was a moderate-sized Mackinac boat, with a crew of soldiers, and our own three voyageurs in addition, that lay waiting for us — a dark-looking structure of some thirty feet in length. Placed in the centre was a framework of slight posts, supporting a roof of canvas, with curtains of the same, which might be let down at the sides and ends, after the manner of a country stage-coach, or rolled up to admit the light and air. In the midst of this little cabin or saloon was placed the box containing my piano, and army at the opening of the Civil War for misconduct in surrendering his army to the Confederacy. He later served for a short time as major general in the Con- federate army. — Ed. 42 "^opage up Jfox 3Rtber on it a mattress, which was to furnish us a divan through the day and a place of repose at night, should the weather at any time prove too wet or unpleasant for encamping. The boxes of silver were stowed next. Our mess-basket was in a convenient vicinity, and we had purchased a couple of large square covered baskets of the Waubanakees, or New York Indians, to hold our various necessary articles of outward apparel and bedding, and at the same time to answer as very convenient little work or dinner tables. As a true daughter of New England, it is to be taken for granted I had not forgotten to supply myself with knitting-work and em- broidery. Books and pencils were a matter of course. The greater part of our furniture, together with the various articles for housekeeping with which we had supplied ourselves in New York and Detroit, were to follow in another boat, under the charge of people whose business it professed to be to take car- goes safely up the rapids, and on to Fort Winnebago. This was an enterprise requir- ing some three weeks of time and a great amount of labor, so that the owners of the goods transported might think themselves happy to receive them at last, in a wet, 43 Ufa "earlp ©ap" in tfje Bortfj-JSeat broken, and dilapidated condition. It was for this reason that we took our choicest pos- sessions with us, even at the risk of being a little crowded. Until now I had never seen a gentleman attired in a colored shirt, a spotless white collar and bosom being one of those "no- tions" that "Boston," and consequently New England "folks," entertained of the becoming in a gentleman's toilette. Mrs. Cass 22 had laughingly forewarned me, that not only calico shirts, but patchwork pillow- cases were an indispensable part of a travel- ling equipment; and, thanks to the taste and skill of some tidy little Frenchwoman, I found our divan pillows all accommodated in the brightest and most variegated garb. The Judge and my husband were gay with the deepest of blue and pink. Each was pre- pared, besides, with a bright red cap (a bon- net rouge , or tuque ', as the voyageurs call it), which, out of respect for the lady, was to be donned only when a hearty dinner, a dull book, or the want of exercise made an after- noon nap indispensable. 22 Wife of Governor Lewis Cass of Michigan Terri- tory, which included all of present-day Wisconsin within its boundaries. Cass was also superintendent of Indian affairs in the Northwest, and hence the official superior of John H. Kinzie. — Ed. 44 "^Topage up Jfox IRiber The Judge was an admirable travelling companion. He had lived many years in the country, had been with General Cass on his expedition to the head waters of the Missis- sippi, and had a vast fund of anecdote re- garding early times, customs, and inhabit- ants. Some instances of the mode of adminis- tering justice in those days, I happen to recall. There was an old Frenchman at "the Bay," named Reaume, excessively ignorant and grasping, although otherwise tolerably good-natured. This man was appointed justice of the peace. Two men once appeared before him, the one as plaintiff, the other as defendant. The justice listened patiently to the complaint of the one, and the defence of the other; then rising, with dignity, he pro- nounced his decision: "You are both wrong. You, Bois-vert," to the plaintiff, "you bring me one load of hay; and you, Crely," to the defendant, "you bring me one load of wood; and now the matter is settled." It does not appear that any exceptions were taken to this ver- dict. This anecdote led to another, the scene of which was Prairie du Chien, on the Missis- sippi. 45 Z\)t "<£arlp Bap" m tfje i?orrt)=JUe£t There was a Frenchman, a justice of the peace, who was universally known by the name of "Col. Boilvin." 23 His office was just without the walls of the fort, and it was much the fashion among the officers to lounge in there of a morning, to find sport for an idle hour, and to take a glass of brandy-and- water with the old gentleman, which he called "taking a little quclque-chose." A soldier, named Fry, had been accused of stealing and killing a calf belonging to M. Rolette, and the constable, a bricklayer of the name of Bell, had been dispatched to arrest the culprit and bring him to trial. While the gentlemen were making their customary morning visit to the justice, a noise was heard in the entry, and a knock at the door. "Come in," cried the old gentleman, ris- ing and walking toward the door. Bell. Here sir, I have brought Fry to you, as you ordered. Justice. Fry, you great rascal! What for you kill M. Rolette's calf? 23 Nicholas Boilvin was a native of Canada who mi- grated to Spanish Louisiana in early manhood, about the year 1774. He subsequently settled at Prairie du Chien where both before and after the War of 181 2 he was staunchly loyal to the American government. He was drowned in the Mississippi in 1827, while on a voyage to St. Louis. — Ed. 46 ^opage up Jfox &toer Fry. I did not kill M. Rolette's calf. Justice (shaking his fist). You lie, you great rascal ! Bell, take him to jail. Come gentle- men, come, let us take a leetle quelque-chose. The Canadian boatmen always sing while rowing, or paddling, and nothing encourages them so much as to hear the "bourgeois"* take the lead in the music. If the passengers, more especially those of the fair sex, join in the refrain, the compliment is all the greater. Their songs are of a light cheerful charac- ter, generally embodying some little satire or witticism, calculated to produce a spirited, sometimes an uproarious chorus. The song and refrain are carried on some- what in the following style: Bourgeois. Par derriere chez ma tante, Par derriere chez ma tante, Chorus. Par derriere chez ma tante, Par derriere chez ma tante. Bourgeois. Il-y-a un coq qui chante, Des pommes, des poires, des raves, des choux, Des figues nouvelles, des raisins doux. Chorus. Des pommes, des poires, des raves, des choux, Des figues nouvelles, des raisins doux. * Master — or to use the emphatic Yankee term — boss, 47 Zf)t "earip Bap" m fte J?ortf)=JIie*t Bourgeois. Il-y-a un coq qui chante, Il-y-a un coq qui chante, Chorus. Il-y-a un coq qui chante, &c. Bourgeois. Demande une femme a prendre Des pommes, des poires, des raves, des choux, &c. Chorus. Des pommes, des poires, &c. Bourgeois. Demande une femme a prendre, Demande une femme a, &c. And thus it continues until the advice is given successively. Xc prenez pas une noire, Car elles aiment trop a boire, Ne prenez pas une rousse, Car elles sont trop jalouses. And by the time all the different qualifica- tions are rehearsed and objected to, length- ened out by the interminable repetition of the chorus, the shout of the bourgeois is heard — "Whoop la! a terre, a terre — pour la pipe!" It is an invariable custom for the voyageurs to stop every five or six miles to rest and smoke, so that it was formerly the way of measuring distances — "so many pipes," in- stead of "so many miles." The Canadian melodies are sometimes very beautiful, and a more exhilarating mode 4 8 ^Topage up Jfox 3&toer of travel can hardly be imagined than a voy- age over these waters, amid all the wild magnificence of nature, with the measured strokes of the oar keeping time to the strains of " Le Rosier Blanc" "En roulant ma Boule" or " Leve ton pied, ma jolie Bergere" The climax of fun seemed to be in a comic piece, which, however oft-repeated, appeared never to grow stale. It was somewhat after this fashion: Bourgeois. Michaud est monte dans un prunier, Pour treiller des prunes. La branche a casse — Chorus. Michaud a tombe? Bourgeois. Ou est-ce qu-il est? Chorus. II est en bas. Bourgeois. Oh! reveille, reveille, reveille, Oh! reveille, Michaud est en haut!* It was always a point of etiquette to look astonished at the luck of Michaud in re- maining in the tree, spite of the breaking of the branch, and the joke had to be repeated through all the varieties of fruit-trees that Michaud might be supposed able to climb. By evening of the first day we arrived at the Kaka/in, where another branch of the Grignon family resided. We were very * Michaud climbed into a plum-tree, to gather plums. The branch broke. Michaud fell! Where is he? He is down on the ground. No, he is up in the tree. 49 Zi)t "Carl? Bap" m tfje &ovti)=Wit&t pleasantly entertained, although in my anxi- ety to begin my forest life, I would fain have had the tent pitched on the bank of the river, and have laid aside, at once, the indulgences of civilization. This, however, would have been a slight, perhaps an affront, so we did much better, and partook of the good cheer that was offered us in the shape of hot veni- son steaks and crepes, and that excellent cup of coffee which none can prepare like a Frenchwoman, and which is so refreshing after a day in the open air. The Kakalin is a rapid of the Fox River, sufficiently important to make the portage of the heavy lading of a boat necessary; the boat itself being poled or dragged up with cords against the current. It is one of a se- ries of rapids and chutes, or falls, which occur between this point and Lake Winnebago, twenty miles above. The next morning, after breakfast, we took leave of our hosts, and prepared to pur- sue our journey. The bourgeois, from an early hour, had been occupied in superin- tending his men in getting the boat and its loading over the Kakalin. 24 As the late rains had made the paths through the woods and along the banks of the river somewhat 24 The Kakalin Rapid was at the site of present-day Kaukauna, Wisconsin. — Ed. 50 "tTopage up jfox &tber muddy and uncomfortable for walking, I was put into an ox-cart, to be jolted over the unequal road; saluting, impartially, all the stumps and stones that lay in our way, the only means of avoiding which seemed to be, when the little, thick-headed Frenchman, our conductor, bethought him of suddenly guiding his cattle into a projecting tree or thorn-bush, to the great detriment, not only of my straw-bonnet, but of my very eyes. But we got through at last, and arriving at the head of the rapids, I found the boat lying there, all in readiness for our re- embarking. Our Monomonee guide, Wish-tay-yun^ a fine, stalwart Indian, with an open, good- humored, one might almost say roguish countenance, came forward to be presented to me. " Bon-jour ^ bon-jour, mam an" was his laughing salutation. Again I was surprised, not as before at the French, for to that I had become accustomed, but at the respectable title he was pleased to bestow upon me. "Yes," said my husband, "you must make up your mind to receive a very nu- merous and well-grown family, consisting of all the Winnebagoes, Pottowattamies, Chip- pewas, and Ottawas, together with such Sioux, Sacs, and Foxes, and Iowas, as have 5i Cfje "€arlp Bap" in tfje iBtortfj-TOegt any point to gain in applying to me. By the first named tribe, in virtue of my office, and by the others as a matter of courtesy, I am always addressed as 'father 1 — you, of course, will be their ' mother.'" Wish-tay-yun and I were soon good friends, my husband interpreting to me the Chippewa language in which he spoke. We were impatient to be off, the morning being already far advanced, and all things being in readiness, the word was given. " / } usse an large, mes gens!" (Push out, my men I. At this moment a boat was seen leaving the opposite bank of the river and making towards us. It contained white men, and they showed by signs that they wished to detain us until they came up. They drew near, and we found them to be Mr. Marsh, a missionary among the Wau-ba-na-kees, or the New York Indians, lately brought into this country, and the Rev. Eleazar Williams,*- who was at that time living * The supposed Dauphin of France. "Eleazer Williams was a picturesque character over whom much argument has been waged. He was a mixed-blood Iroquois Indian of the Caughnawaga band near Montreal, and a descendant of Eunice Williams, one of the captives taken to Canada by the Indians who destroyed Deerfield, Mass., in the winter of 1704. Eleazer was educated for the Episcopal ministry. He 52 ^Topage up Jfox 3&foer among his red brethren on the left bank of the Fox River. To persons so situated, even more em- phatically than to those of "the settle- ments," the arrival of visitors from the "east countrie" was a godsend indeed. We had to give all the news of various kinds that we had brought — political, ecclesias- tical, and social — as well as a tolerably detailed account of what we proposed to do, or rather what we hoped to be able to do, among our native children at "the Portage." I was obliged, for my part, to confess that, being almost entirely a stranger to the In- dian character and habits, I was going among them with no settled plans of any kind — general good-will, and a hope of mak- ing them my friends, being the only princi- ples I could lay claim to at present. I must leave it for time and a better acquaintance to show me in what way the principle could be carried out for their greatest good. promoted the removal of the New York Indians to Wisconsin in the twenties, and here resided the remain- der of his life. In 1852 he advanced the claim that he was in reality the "Lost Dauphin," son of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, who is supposed to have per- ished as a captive of the Revolutionists. The claim brought much notoriety to Williams, but it has been refuted by competent historians. — Ed. S3 Wbt "Carl? ®ap" in tfte JBtortfhWest Mr. Williams was a dark-complexioned, good-looking man. Having always heard him spoken of, by his relations in Con- necticut, as "our Indian cousin," it never occurred to me to doubt his belonging to that race, although I now think that if I had met him elsewhere, I should have taken him for a Spaniard or a Mexican. His complex- ion had decidedly more of the olive than the copper hue, and his countenance was grave, almost melancholy. He was very silent dur- ing this interview, asking few questions, and offering no observations except in reply to some question addressed to him. It was a hard pull for the men up the rap- ids. Wish-tay-yun, whose clear, sonorous voice was the bugle of the party, shouted and whooped — each one answered with a chorus, and a still more vigorous effort. By- and-by the boat would become firmly set between two huge stones — "Whoop la! whoop! whoop!" Another pull, and another, straining every nerve — in vain. "She will not budge!" "Men, overboard!" and instantly every rower is over the side and into the water. By pulling, pushing, and tugging, the boat is at length released from her position, and the men walk along beside her, helping and 54 "tXopage up jfox Btoer guiding her, until they reach a space of com- paratively smooth water, when they again take their seats and their oars. It will be readily imagined that there were few songs this day, but very frequent pipes, 26 to refresh the poor fellows after such an ar- duous service. It was altogether a new spectacle to me. In fact, I had hardly ever before been called upon to witness severe bodily exertion, and my sympathies and sensibilities were, for this reason, the more enlisted on the occa- sion. It seemed a sufficient hardship to have to labor in this violent manner; but to walk in cold water up to their waists, and then to sit down in their soaking garments without going near a fire! Poor men! this was too much to be borne! What then was my con- sternation to see my husband, who, shortly after our noontide meal, had surprised me by making his appearance in a pair of duck 26 In traversing portages the voyageurs were com- pelled to pause at intervals to recruit their energies for the further prosecution of their laborious task. Such pauses were known as pipes, from the opportunity for smoking which the rest afforded. By a logical transi- tion the term became a unit of measurement, a given portage being described as so many pipes long. The length of a pipe varied, of course, with the physical con- ditions of the different portages. Its more usual length might be one-half to three-fourths of a mile. — Ed. 55 (E&e "Carlp 23ap" to tfje jBtortf^WeSt trowsers and light jacket, at the first cry of "fast, again!" spring over into the water with the men, and "bear a hand" through- out the remainder of the day. When he returned on board, it was to take the oar of a poor, delicate-looking boy, one of the company of soldiers, who from the first had suffered with bleeding at the nose on every unusual exertion. I was not sur- prised, on Inquiring, to find that this lad was a recruit just entered the service. He passed by the name of Gridley, but that was un- doubtedly an assumed name. He had the appearance of having been delicately nur- tured, and had probably enlisted without at all appreciating the hardships and discom- forts of a soldier's life. This is evident from the dissatisfaction he always continued to feel, until at length he deserted from his post. This was some months subsequent to the time of which I am writing. He was once retaken, and kept for a time in con- finement, but immediately on his release de- serted again, and his remains were found the following spring, not many miles from the fort. He had died, either of cold or starva- tion. This is a sad interlude — we will return to our boating. With all our tugging and toiling we had ac- complished but thirteen miles since leaving 56 ^Topage up jfox JXtoer the Kakalin, and it was already late when we arrived in view of the "Grande Chute," near which we were to encamp. We had passed the "Little Chute" (the spot where the town of Appleton now stands) without any farther observation than that it required a vast deal of extra exertion to buffet with the rushing stream, and come off, as we did, victorious. The brilliant light of the setting sun was resting on the high wooded banks through which broke the beautiful, foaming, dashing waters of the Chute. The boat was speedily turned toward a little headland projecting from the right bank, which had the advan- tage of a long strip of level ground, suffi- ciently spacious to afford a good encamping ground. I jumped ashore before the boat was fairly pulled up by the men, and with the Judge's help made my way as rapidly as possible to a point lower down the river, from which, he said, the best view of the Chute could be obtained. I was anxious to make a sketch before the daylight quite faded away. The left bank of the river was to the west, and over a portion less elevated than the rest the sun's parting rays fell upon the boat, the men with their red caps and belts, and the 57 Cfje "<£adp ®ap" m ti)t J2ortf)=ffleat two tents already pitched. The smoke now beginning to ascend from the evening fires, the high wooded hank beyond, up which the steep portage path could just be discerned, and more remote still, the long stretch of waterfall now darkening In the shadow of the overhanging forests, formed a lovely landscape, to which the pencil of an artist could alone do justice. This was my first encampment, and I was quite enchanted with the novelty of every- thing about me. The fires had heen made of small saplings and underbrush, hastily collected, the mild- ness of the weather rendering any thingbeyond what sufficed for the purposes of cooking and drying the men's clothes, superfluous. The soldiers' tent was pitched at some dis- tance from our own, but not too far for us to hear distinctly their laughter and ap- parent enjoyment, after the fatigues of the day. Under the careful superintendence of Cor- poral Kilgour, however, their hilarity never passed the bounds of respectful propriety, and, by the time we had eaten our sup- pers, cooked in the open air with the simple apparatus of a tea-kettle and frying-pan, we were, one and all, ready to retire to our rest. 58 ^opage up Jfox &foer The first sound that saluted our ears in the early dawn of the following morning, was the far-reaching call of the bourgeois: "How! how! how!" uttered at the very top of his voice. All start at that summons, and the men are soon turning out of their tents, or rousing from their slumbers beside the fire, and pre- paring for the duties of the day. The fire is replenished, the kettles set on to boil, the mess-baskets opened, and a por- tion of their contents brought forth to be made ready for breakfast. One Frenchman spreads our mat within the tent, whence the bedding has all been carefully removed and packed up for stowing in the boat. The tin cups and plates are placed around on the new- fashioned table cloth. The heavy dews make it a little too damp for us to breakfast in the open air, otherwise our preparations would be made outside, upon the green grass. In an incredibly short time our smoking coffee and broiled ham are placed before us, to which are added, from time to time, slices of toast brought hot and fresh from the glowing coals. There is, after all, no breakfast like a breakfast in the woods, with a well-trained Frenchman for master of ceremonies. It was a hard day's work to which the men now applied themselves, that of dragging the 59 TOje " Catty ®ap" tn tfje i£ottf)=rae£rt heavy boat up the Chute. It had been thought safest to leave the piano in its place on board, but the rest of the lading had to be carried up the steep bank, and along its summit, a distance of some hundreds of rods, to the smooth water beyond, where all the difficulties of our navigation terminated. The Judge kindly took charge of me, while "the bourgeois" superintended this impor- tant business, and with reading, sketching, and strolling about, the morning glided away. Twelve o'clock came, and still the preparations for starting were not yet com- pleted. In my rambles about to seek out some of the finest of the wild flowers for a bouquet, before my husband's return, I came upon the camp fire of the soldiers. A tall, red- faced, light-haired young man in fatigue dress was attending a kettle of soup, the sa- voury steams of which were very attractive. Seeing that I was observing his occupa- tion, he politely laded out a tin cup full of the liquid and offered it to me. I declined it, saying we should have our dinner immediately. "They left me here to get their dinner," said he, apparently not displeased to have some one to talk to; "and I thought I might as well make some soup. Down on 60 \Xopage up jfox &tber the German Flats, where I come from, they always like soup." "Ah! you are from the German Flats — then your name must be Bellinger or Weber." "No it isn't — it's Christman." "Well, Christman, how do you like the service?" "Very well. I was only recruited last summer. I used to ride horse on the Canawi, and as I can blow a horn first-rate, I expect I will soon be able to play on a bugle, and then, when I get to be musician, you know, I shall have extra pay." I did not know it, but I expressed due pleasure at the information, and wishing Christman all manner of success in his dreams of ambition, or rather I should say, of avarice, for the hopes of "extra pay" evi- dently preponderated over those of fame, I returned to my own quarters. My husband, with his French tastes, was inclined to be somewhat disappointed when I told him of this little incident, and my re- fusal of Christman's soup; but we were soon gratified by seeing his tall, awkward form bearing a kettle of the composition, which he set down before the two gentlemen, by whom, to his infinite satisfaction, it was pro- nounced excellent. 61 ©fje "(Karl? ©ap" fa tfje j£ortf)=J&e£t Every thing being at length in readiness, the tents were struck and carried around the Portage, and my husband, the Judge, and I followed at our leisure. The woods were brilliant with wild flow- ers, although it was so late in the season that the glory of the summer was well nigh past. But the lupin, the moss-pink, and the yellow wallflower, with all the varieties of the heli- anthus, the astor, and the solidago, spread their gay charms around. The gentlemen gathered clusters of the bitter-sweet (celas- trus scandens) from the overhanging boughs to make a wreath for my hat, as we trod the tangled pathway, which, like that of Christa- belle, was "Now in glimmer and now in gloom," through the alternations of open glade and shady thicket. Soon, like the same lovely heroine, "We reached the place — right glad we were," and without further delay, we were again on board our little boat and skimming over the now placid waters. 62 Chapter 5 WIXNEBAGO LAKE MISS FOUR-LEGS OUR encampment this night was the most charming that can be imag- ined. Owing to the heavy service the men had gone through, in the earlier part of the day, we took but a short stage for the afternoon, and having pulled some seven or eight miles to a spot a short distance below the "little Butte," 27 we drew in at a beautiful opening among the trees. The soldiers now made a regular business of encamping by cutting down a large tree for their fire, and applying themselves to the preparing of a sufficient quantity of food for their next day's journey, a long stretch, namely, of twenty-one miles across Winne- bago Lake. Our Frenchmen did the same. The fire caught in the light dry grass by which we were surrounded, and soon all was blaze and crackle. 27 Petite Butte des Morts was at present-day Men- asha. Legends were long current of a sanguinary battle supposed to have been waged here between the French and the Indians. — Ed. 63 Zi)t "€arlp ©ap" tn tfje MovfaWittit Fortunately the wind was sufficient to take the flames all in one direction, and besides, there was not enough fuel to have made them a subject of any alarm. We hopped upon the fallen logs, and dignified the little circum- scribed affair with the name of "a prairie on fire." The most serious inconvenience was its having consumed all the dry grass, some armfuls of which, spread under the bearskin in my tent, I had found, the night before, a great Improvement to my place of" repose. Our supper was truly delightful, at the pleasant sunset hour, under the tall trees beside the waters that ran murmuring by; and when the bright, broad moon arose, and shed her flood of light over the scene, so wild yet so beautiful in its vast solitude, I felt that I might well be an object of envy to the friends I had left behind. Hut all things have an end, and so must at last my enthusiasm for the beauties around me, and, albeit unwillingly, I closed my tent, and took my place within, so near the fall of canvas that I might raise it occasionally and peep forth upon the night. In time all was quiet. The men had be- come silent, and appeared to have retired to rest, and we were just sinking to our slum- bers, when a heavy tread and presently a bluff voice were heard outside. 6 4 TOmnebago Hake— JJlto jfour=1tegg "Mr. Kinzie— Mr. Kinzie!" "Who is there? What is it?" "I'm Christman; didn't you mean, sir, that the men should have any liquor tonight?" "Of course I did. Has not Kilgour given out your rations?" "No! he says you did not say anything particular about it, and he was not coming to ask you if you forgot it; but I thought I wouldn't be bashful — I'd just come and ask." "That is right. Tell Kilgour I should like to have him serve out a ration apiece." "Thank you, sir," in a most cheerful tone; "I'll tell him." Christman was getting to be quite a char- acter with us. A row of a few miles, on the following morning, brought us to Four-Legs' village,* 28 at the entrance to W 7 innebago Lake, a picturesque cluster of Indian huts, spread around on a pretty green glade, and shaded by fine lofty trees. We were now fairly in the Winnebago country, and I soon learned that the odd- sounding name of the place was derived from *The site of the town of Nee-nah. 28 Four Legs' village was on the island which divides the channel of the Fox at the exit from Lake Winne- bago. The twin cities of Neenah and Menasha lie on either side of the river at this point. The island later became the home of Governor Doty, and has ever since been known as Doty's Island. — Ed. 65 Cfje "Carlp Bap" (n tfje J2ortf)=«le$t the principal chief of the nation, whose resi- dence ir was. The inhabitants were absent, having, in all probability, departed to their wintering grounds. We here took leave of our friend Wish-tay-yun, at the borders of whose country we had now arrived. "Bon-jour, Chon!" (John) "bon-jour y ma- man." \ hearty shake of the hand com- pleted his adieu, as we pushed off into the lake, and left him smoking his kin-nee-kin- nick,* and waiting until the spirit should move him to take up his long Indian trot towards his home in the Menomonee coun- try. With him our sunshine seemed to have de- parted. The skies, hitherto so bright and serene, became overcast, and instead of the charming voyage we had anticipated over the silver waters of the lake, we were obliged to keep ourselves housed under our canvas shelter, only peeping out now and then, to catch a glimpse of the surrounding prospect through the pouring rain. It was what might have been expected on an autumnal day, but we were unreasonable enough to find it tedious; so, to beguile the time and lessen my disappointment, my husband related to me some incidents of *The bark of the red willow, scraped fine, which is preferred by the Indians to tobacco. 66 (2) t I? is i a eg £ Winnebago ILakt — jlWto jfouv=lLtQ& his early history, apropos to the subject of "Four-Legs." While he was living at Prairie du Chien, in the employ of the American Fur Company, the chiefs and other Indians, from the Upper Mississippi, used frequently to come to the place to sell their furs and peltries, and to purchase merchandise, ammunition, trin- kets, &c. As is usual with all who are not yet accli- mated, he was seized with chills and fever. One day, while suffering with an unusually severe access of the latter, a chief of the Four-Legs family, a brother to the one be- fore-mentioned, came in to the Company's warehouse to trade. There is no ceremony or restraint among the Indians, so hearing that Shaw-nee-aw-kee was sick, Four-Legs instantly made his way to him, to offer his sympathy and prescribe the proper rem- edies. Every one who has suffered from ague and the intense fever that succeeds it, knows how insupportable is the protracted conver- sation of an inconsiderate person, and will readily believe that the longer Four-Legs continued his pratings the higher mounted the fever of the patient, and the more intol- erable became the pain of head, back, and limbs. 67 Zi)t "Carlp Sap" in tfje $lovti)=Wit&t At length the old man arrived at the cli- max of what he had to say. "It was not good for a young man, suffering with sick- ness, and away from his family, to be with- out a home and a wife, lie had a nice daughter at home, handsome and healthy, a capital nurse, the best hand in all the tribe at trapping beaver and musk-rats, lie was Coming down again in the spring, and he would bring her with him, and Shaw-nee- aw-kee should see that he had told no false- hood about her. Should he go now, and bring his daughter the next time he earner" Si tinned with his importunate babble, and anxious only tor rest and quiet, poor Shaw- nee-aw-kee eagerly assented, and the chief took his departure. So nearly had his disorder been aggra- vated to delirium, that the young man for- got entirely, tor a time, the interview and the proposal which had been made him. But it was recalled to his memory some months after, when hour-Legs made his appear- ance, bringing with him a squaw of mature age, and a very I lecate for ugliness. She carried on her shoulders an immense pack of furs, which, approaching with her awkward criss-cross gait, she threw at his feet, thus marking, by an Indian custom, her sense of the relation that existed between them. 68 Winnebago Hake — jWfe* jfour=Heg£ The conversation with her father now flashed across his mind, and he began to be sensible that he had got into a position that it would require some skill to extricate him- self from. He bade one of the young clerks take up the pack and carry it into the magazine where the furs were stored, then he coolly went on talking with the chief about indiffer- ent matters. Miss Four-legs sat awhile with a sulky, discontented air, at length she broke out, "Humph! he seems to take no more notice of me than if I was nobody!" He again turned to the clerk — "Give her a calico shirt and half a dozen bread tickets." This did not dissipate the gloom on her countenance. Finding that he must com- mence the subject, the father says, "Well, I have brought you my daughter, according to our agreement. How do you like her?" "Ah! yes, she is a very nice young woman, and would make a first-rate wife, I have no doubt. But do you know a very strange thing has happened since you were here? Our father, Governor Cass,* has sent for me to come to Detroit; that he may send me * General Cass was then Governor of Michigan, and Superintendent of the North-western Indians. 69 tKje "Carl? 2Bap" in tfje MovfcWLtxt among the Wyandots and other nations to learn their customs and manners. Now if I go, as I shall be obliged to do, I shall be absent two or three years — perhaps four. What then? Why, the people will say, Shaw-nee-aw-kee has married Four-Legs' daughter, and then has hated her and run away from her, and so everybody will laugh at her, and she will be ashamed. It will be better to take some good, valuable presents, blankets, guns, &c, and to marry her to one of her own people, who will always stay by her and take care of her." The old man was shrewd enough to see that it was wisest to make the best bargain he could. I have no doubt it cost a round sum to settle the matter to the satisfaction of the injured damsel, though I have never been able to ascertain how much. This, I know, that the young gentleman took care not to make his next bargain while in a fit of the ague. The lady up on the Missis- sippi is called, in derision, by his name to this day. About midway of the lake we passed Gar- lic Island 29 — a lovely spot, deserving of a more attractive name. It belonged, together with the village on the opposite shore to 29 Garlic Island is a short distance north of Oshkosh, opposite the grounds of the State Insane Asylum. — Ed. 70 Uimtefmgo Hake — Mix* Jfour=Heg£ "Wild Cat," a fat, jolly, good-natured fel- low, by no means the formidable animal his name would imply. He and his band were absent, like their neighbors of Four-Legs village, so there was nothing to vary the monotony of our sail. It was too wet to sing, and the men, although wrapped in their overcoats, looked like drowned chickens. They were obliged to ply their oars with unusual vigor to keep them- selves warm and comfortable, and thus prob- ably felt less than we, the dullness and list- lessness of the cold, rainy, October day. Towards evening the sun shone forth. We had passed into the Fox River, and were just entering that beautiful little expanse known as Butte des Morts Lake, at the fur- ther extremity of which we were to encamp for the night. The water along its shores was green with the fields of wild rice, the gathering of which, just at this season, is an important occupa- tion of the Indian women. They push their canoes into the thick masses of the rice, bend it forward over the side with their paddles, and then beat the ripe husks off the stalks into a cloth spread in the canoe. After this, it is rubbed to separate the grain from the husk, and fanned in the open air. It is then put in their cordage bags and packed away 71 8%e "Corlp Sap" tn tfjc ilorft=E[lcat for winter use. The grain is longer and more slender than the Carolina rice —it is of a greenish, olive color, and, although it forms a pleasant article of food, it is far from being particularly nutritive. The Indians are fond <»t it in the form oi soup, with the addition of birds or \ enison. 72 Chapter 6 BREAKFAST AT BETTY MORE's THE earth, the trees, and the shrub- bery were all too much filled with the heavy rain which had fallen to allow us to think of encamping, so we made ar- rangements to bestow ourselves in our little saloon for the night. It was rather a diffi- cult matter to light a fire, but among the un- derbrush, in a wild, undisturbed spot, there will always be found some fragments of dried branches, and tufts of grass which the rain has not reached, and by the assistance of the spunk, or light-wood, with which travellers always go well provided, a comforting fire was at length blazing brightly. After our chilling, tedious day, it was pleasant to gather round it, to sit on the end of the blazing logs, and watch the French- men preparing our supper — the kettle, nes- tling in a little nook of bright glowing coals — the slices of ham browning and crisping on the forked sticks, or "broches," which the voyageurs dexterously cut, and set around the burning brands — the savory messes of "pork and onions" hissing in the frying pan, 73 £fjc "Carl? Sap" in tfjc jlortfj-JIleat always a tempting regale to the hungry Frenchmen. Truly, it needs a wet chilly journey, taken nearly fasting, as ours had been, tO enable one tO enjoy to its full ex- tent that social meal a supper. The bright sun, setting amid brilliant masses of clouds, such as arc seen only in our tern skk promise of a fine day on the morrow, with which comforting assur- ance we were glad to take our leave of him, and soon alter of each other. We had hardly roused up the following morning, in obedience to the call of the hour- hen our eyes were greeted with the it of an addition to our company a tall stalwart, fine-looking, young "mitiff," or accompanied by two or three In- dian. \ and joyous were the salu- tations of the latter to their "father" and their new "mother." They were the first Winnebagoes I had seen, and they were de- cidedly not the finest specimens of their tribe. The mitiff, a scion ot the wide-spread- ing tree of the Grignons, was the bearer of an invitation to us from Judge Law, who, with one or two Green Hay friends, was encamped a few miles above, to come and breakfast with him in his tent. We had not dreamed of finding white neighbors here, but our vicinity could be no secret to them, "4 Jgreafefaatt at $ettp iiflore'* as long as there was an Indian in the neigh- borhood. So, delaying only for the soldiers to finish their breakfast, we pushed on for the "Butte des Morts," or, as old Mrs. Arndt always persisted in calling it, Betty Move's. The white tent of the Judge gleamed in the morning sun as we approached the little rising ground on which it stood. The river was filled with canoes paddled principally by squaws. Many Indians were to be seen on the banks, all with their guns and hunting accoutrements, for the air was filled in every direction with flocks of teal, which at this season are most abundant and delicious. The immense fields of wild rice abounding here and in the little lake below, make this vicinity their favorite place of resort in the autumn months. The effect of this nourish- ing food is, to make the flesh of the birds so fat, so white, and so tender, that a caution is always given to a young sportsman to fire only at such as fly very low, for if shot high in the air they are bruised to pieces, and ren- dered unfit for eating by their fall to the ground. We were hemmed in by a little fleet of canoes which surrounded us, the women chattering, laughing, and eagerly putting forward their little wooden bowls of fresh cranberries as an offering of welcome to me. 75 ®f)t "€arlp Bap" in tfje j£ortf)=21e$t I amused myself with tossing crackers to them, some of which would reach them, others would fall into the water, and then such a scrambling and shouting! Hands and paddles were in requisition, and loud was the triumph of her who was successful in reach- ing a floating one. Among the Indians with whom Shaw-nee- aw-kee was now engaged in shaking hands, and who all seemed old friends, were some fine, straight, well-formed figures, all of them exhibiting frames capable of enduring fa- tigue and the hardships of their mode of life. One was describing with much gesticulation the abundance of the game in the neighbor- hood, and he seemed greatly delighted at receiving a quantity of ammunition, with which he instantly departed to make good his boasts in the matter. After walking a short distance we reached the tent, where I was introduced to Judge Law and a pleasant little gray-haired French gentleman of the name of Porlier. 30 Several voyageurs and half-breeds were near, the 30 The hosts of the party were John Lawe and Jacques Porlier, prominent French residents of Green Bay. Porlier was a native of Montreal, a man of refinement and some education, who settled at Green Bay about the year 1787, and died there in 1839. Lawe came to the Bay, a youth, in 1797, to assist his uncle, Jacob Franks, in trade. — Ed. 76 Jgreafefatft at l&ttty jUlore^ former busily at work, the latter lounging for the most part, and going through with what they had to do with a sort of listless indiffer- ence. The contrast between the "all-alive" air of the one class and the apathetic manner of the other, was quite striking. After a short conversation among the members of the party, breakfast was an- nounced, and we entered the tent and took our seats on the ground around the Indian mat, which supplied the place of a table. The post of honor, namely, the head of the table, was of course given to me, so that I could not only look around upon the circle of the company, but also enjoy a fine view out of the open door of the tent, and take an ob- servation of all that was going on at the side- table outside. Judge Doty sat opposite me, with his back to the opening of the tent, and the other gentlemen on either hand. We had for our waiter the tall "mitiff" who had been the messenger of the morning. He was still in the same garb — calico shirt, bright col- ored scarf around his waist, and on his head a straw hat encircled with a band of black ostrich feathers, the usual dress of his class. The tin cups which were to hold our coffee were duly set around, then breakfast plates of the same metal, with knives and forks, 77 Cfte "€arlp ®ap" in tfje Motti)=Wlt&t then followed the viands, among the most conspicuous of which was a large tin pan of boiled ducks. The Judge, wishing to show, probably, that although we were in the vast wilder- ness, all fastidious nicety had not been left behind, took up the plate which had been set before him, and seeing something adher- ing to it which did not exactly please him, handed it over his shoulder to Grignon, re- questing him to wipe it carefully. Grignon complied by pulling a black silk barcelona handkerchief out of his bosom, where it had been snugly tucked away to answer any oc- casion that might present itself, and giving the tin a furious polishing, handed it back again. The Judge looked at it with a smile of approbation, and giving a glance round the table as much as to say, "You see how I choose to have things done," applied himself to his breakfast. The trail for Fort Winnebago then led from the shore opposite Butte des Morts, through Mau-zhee-gaw-gaw swamp, and past Green Lake, and it was well for the Judge that his horses stood waiting for him to "mount and away" as early as possible after breakfast, or I am afraid the story I should have been tempted to tell, would have made his ride an uncomfortable one throughout the day. 78 JSreafefoft at ffltttp jfflore'* We had hardly finished breakfast when our hunter, who had received the ammuni- tion, returned, bringing with him about fifty fine ducks, which he had shot in little more than an hour. From that time until the close of our journey, our supply of these delicate birds was never wanting. 79 Cfjapter 7 MORTS, — LAKE PUCKA WAY Till. Butte tics MortS, or Hillock of the Dead) was the scene long since* of a most sanguinary battle between the French and the Mis-qua-kees, or Koxes. 31 great was the carnage in this engagement, that the memory ot it has been perpetuated by the gloomy appellation given to the mound where the dead were buried. The Foxes up to this time had inhabited the shores ot" the river to which they had given their name, but being completely over- whelmed and beaten in this conflict, they retired to the neighborhood of the Missis- sippi, and sought an asylum among their allies, the Saukies, or as they are now called, the Sauks, with whom they became gradu- ally incorporated, until the combined tribes came to be known, as at present, by the name of "Sauks and boxes." * In the year i ~ 1 4. 31 The author is here speaking of Grand Butte des Morts above the city of Oshkosh. The historical legend mentioned has been applied indifferently to both Petite and Grand Butte des Morts. — Ed. 80 Putte ties; Jflorte— Hafee $ucfeatoap Among the French inhabitants of the up- per country, each tribe of Indians has a particular appellation, descriptive of some peculiarity of either their habits or their per- sonal appearance. Thus the Chippewas from their agility are denominated "Sauteurs" or Jumpers; theOttawas, the " Courtes-oreilles " or Short-ears. The Menomonees, from the wild rice so abundant in their country, are called the "Folks Avoines" — the Winneba- goes from their custom of wearing the fur of a polecat on their legs when equipped for war, are termed "les Puans" — the Pottowatta- mies, from their uncleanly habits, "les Poux " — the Foxes, are "les Reynards," &c, &c. 32 Hence you will never hear a French or half-breed resident of the country mention 32 The author's historical observations are more or less inaccurate. The Chippewa were dubbed "Salteurs" by the French, not from any personal characteristics, but because the French first encountered them toward the middle of the seventeenth century, at the rapids (or Sault) of St. Mary's River, which conveys the waters of Lake Superior to Lake Huron. The term "Puants" (smellers or stinkers) for the Winnebago probably owes its origin to the erroneous notion of the French at Quebec in Champlain's time that they were dwellers beside the salt water, or western ocean. "Poux," is merely a contraction of the full name of the Potawa- tomi tribe. Since pou chances also to be the French word for "louse," the mistaken association credited by Mrs. Kinzie gained currency. — Ed. 81 tCfte "earlp Bap" m tfje Bortf)4ae*t an Indian in any other style. "Such a per- son is a 'Court-oreille.'" "Is that woman a 'Winnebago:'" "No, she is a 'Folle Avoine."' In this manner a stranger is somewhat puzzled at first to classify the ac- quaintances he forms. All the native friends with whom we were here surrounded were "les Puans," or to use their own euphonious application, the "Ho- tshung-rahs" Having with great regret said adieu to our friend Judge Doty, whose society had con- tributed so much to the pleasure of our trip, and whose example moreover, had given us a valuable lesson to take things as we find them; we bade good-bye at an early hour after breakfast to our kind hosts, and set for- ward on our journey. From Butte des Morts to the Portage, the distance by land is about seventy miles; by water, it is not less than a hundred and thirty, so serpentine is the course of the river through the low swampy prairies which stretch over a great portion of this part of the country. About six miles above the Butte, a toler- ably broad stream called Wolf River joins the Fox, and as it is much the more direct and promising of the two, strangers have sometimes mistaken it for the main stream, 82 Jgutte be£ iilorte — Hake Pucfeatoap and journeyed up it a considerable distance before discovering to their great chagrin that they must retrace their steps. Beyond this place, the river begins to play its pranks with the compass. As I was always looking out for pretty scenery to sketch, I was at one spot much attracted by a picturesque group on a bank quite close to the stream. There were broad overhanging trees, and two or three wigwams nestled un- der their shade. Bright-looking little chil- dren, quite unencumbered with clothing, were sporting about, and their two mothers were sitting on the ground, engaged in the manufacture of a mat for their lodge. It was a pretty scene, and I commenced a sketch. As usual, the whole party on the bank set up a shout when they recognized Shaw-nee-aw- kee — " Ee-awn-chee-wee-rah, Hee-nee-kar- ray-kay-noo."* It was an occasion on which they became demonstrative. After a little time we proceeded, and I went on to com- plete my drawing. The sun kept coming more and more into the wrong place. He had been just behind me, presently he was on my left hand, now he was straight a-head. I moved from time to time; at length the sun was decidedly on my right hand. What could be the matter? I looked up. "Oh, * Father! How do you do? 83 W^t "earl? ®a$>" in fte MovfcWit&t here is a pretty scene, I must have this too! But how surprisingly like the one I have just finished, only in a different direction." Again we were greeted with shouts and laughter; it was the same spot which we had passed not an hour before, and having taken a circuit of nearly four miles, we had returned to find that we had made an actual progress of only the width of the bank on which the trees and wigwams stood. Decidedly not very encour- aging to an impatient traveller. We reached Lake Puck-a-way late in the evening of our second day from Butte des Morts. Here lived a white man named Glea- son, the same of whom, owing to his vast powers of exaggeration, poor Hooe 33 was fond of uttering his little pun, ''All is not gold that Gleasons." We did not seek shel- ter at his house, for late as the season was, we found the shore so infested with musqui- toes that we were glad to choose a spot as far as possible from the bank, and make our- selves comfortable in our boat. This lake has its name from the long flags or rushes which are found in its waters in "Alexander S. Hooe, a graduate from West Point in 1827, who subsequently served in Wisconsin as a lieutenant. He served with distinction in the Mexican War, lost an arm, and died at Baton Rouge, Dec. 9, 1847. 84 I&uttz be£ fflovte — Hake $ucfeatoap great abundance, and of which the squaws manufacture the coarse matting used in cov- ering their wigwams. Their mode of fabri- cating this is very primitive and simple. Seated on the ground, with the rushes laid side by side, and fastened at each extremity, they pass their shuttle, a long flat needle made of bone, to which is attached a piece of cordage, formed of the bark of a tree, through each rush, thus confining it very closely, and making a fine substantial mat. These mats are seldom more than five or six feet in length, as a greater size would be in- convenient in adjusting and preparing their lodges. It is a species of labor usually assigned to the elder women of the family. When they become broken down and worn out with ex- posure and hardship, so that they cannot cut down trees, hoe corn, or carry heavy burdens, they are set to weaving mats, tak- ing care of the children, and disciplining the dogs, with which every Indian lodge abounds. Lac de Bceuf, or Buffalo Lake, into which our course next brought us, is a lovely sheet of water. In some places its banks are ex- ceedingly picturesque, with beautiful head- lands jutting out into the clear depths, where they and the magnificent groups of trees 85 Cfre "Carlp Qap" in tfte iTtortf)=(KIes;t which crown them lie reflected as in a mirror. N a and then we would catch a glimpse of deer darting across the glades, which at intervals opened through the woodlands, or a pair of sand-hill cranes would rise, slowlv flapping their wings, and seek a place of more undisturbed repose. The flocks of teal now skimming the surface of the water, now rising higher towards the shelter of the for- 1 our sportsman sorely; but as there was little prospect of finding his game when it was brought down, he did not give way to the wanton pleasure of shooting merely to destroy lite. In quitting this charming lake, and again entering the narrow, tortuous course of the river, we ba to everything like scen- erv, until we should reach our journey's end. We had now seventy miles to pass through a country perfectly monotonous and unin- _-, the distastefulness of which was avated by the knowledge that we could, had we been provided with horses or a car- riage of any kind, have crossed over to the Portage from Gleason's, through a pleasant countrv, in little more than three hours. Even our great resource, the cheering, ani- mating songs of our voyageurs were out of the question; for the river, though deep, is 86 (5S| o (UJ) 2 J?utte be* J$lort£— ICafee $ucfeatoap so narrow that, in many places, there is no room for the regular play of the oars; and the voices of Frenchmen can never "keep tune" unless their oars can "keep time." Lapierre, one of our men, did his best with a paddle, or, as he called it, the "little row" but it was to no purpose — it would not go. Besides this, the wild rice abounds to that extent in many places, that it almost completely obstructs the progress of even a moderate-sized boat, so that a passage through its tangled masses is with difficulty forced by the oars. Tedi- ous and monotonous as was the whole course of the two following days, the climax of impatience and discouragement was only reached when we arrived in sight of the white walls of Fort Winnebago, looking down from a rising ground upon the vast expanse of low land through which the river winds. The Indians have a tradition that a vast serpent once lived in the waters of the Mis- sissippi, and that taking a freak to visit the Great Lakes, he left his trail through the prairies, which, collecting the waters from the meadows and the rains of heaven as they fell, at length became the Fox River. The little lakes along its course were prob- ably the spots where he flourished about in his uneasy slumbers at night. He must have played all the antics of a kitten in the 87 fcfje "Carl; Sap" in tfje $lQvti)=mt&t neighborhood of the Portage. When the Fort was first pointed out to me, I exclaimed with delight, "Oh, we shall be there in half an hour!" "Not quite so soon," said my husband, smiling. "Wait and see." We sat and watched. We seemed approaching the very spot where we were to disembark. We could distinguish the officers and a lady on the bank waiting to receive us. Now we are turning our backs on them, and shooting out into the prairie again. Anon we approach another bank, on which is a range of com- fortable-looking log-houses. "That is the ncy,— the largest house belongs to Pa- quette,* 4 the interpreter, and the others are the dwellings of our Frenchmen. The little building, just at the foot of the hill, is the blacksmith's shop, kept there by the Gov- ernment, that the Indians may have their guns and traps mended free of expense." M But are we going to stop there?" " No; do vou not see we are going back to the fort?" 34 Pierre Paquette was the son of a Frenchman and a Winnebago woman. He served as interpreter at various treaties, and possessed in high degree the confidence of the Winnebago. He was renowned for his physical strenLjth, concerning which numerous remarkable stories have been handed down. He was slain at Portage by an Indian in 1836. — Ed. JButte be£ ilflorte — Hafee iPucfeatoap And, to be sure, our course was now turned, and we were setting in our first di- rection. In this manner, after tacking to the right and left, and putting backwards and forwards during the greater part of two hours, we at length reached the little land- ing, on which the assembled party stood ready to greet us. 8 9 Chapter 8 FORT WINNEBAGO MAJOR and Mrs. Twiggs, and a few of the younger officers (for nearly all of the older ones were absent), with our brother Robert, 35 or, as he is called throughout all the Indian tribes " Bob," gave us a cordial welcome — how cordial those alone can know who have come, like us, to a remote, isolated home in the wilderness. The Major insisted on our taking possession at once of vacant quarters in the fort, instead of at "the Agency," as had been proposed. "No — we must be under the same roof with them. Mrs. Twiggs had been without a companion of her own sex for more than four months, and would certainly not hear of a separation now. But we must be their guests until the arrival of the boats contain- ing our furniture," which, under the care of 35 Robert Allen Kinzie, younger brother of John H., was born at Chicago, Feb. 8, 1810. He lived practically- all of his life at Chicago, where he died, Dec. 13, 1873. He married Gwinthlean Whistler, a daughter of Colonel William, and a grand-daughter of Captain John Whist- ler, who built the first Fort Dearborn. — Ed. 90 jfovt EHtnnebago our old acquaintance, Hamilton Arndt, was making its way slowly up from Green Bay. A dinner had been prepared for us. This is one of the advantages of the zig-zag ap- proach by the Fox River — travellers never take their friends by surprise — and when the whole circle sat down to the hospitable board, we were indeed a merry company. After dinner Mrs. Twiggs showed me the quarters assigned to us, on the opposite side of the spacious hall. They consisted of two large rooms on each of the three floors or stories of the building. On the ground floor the front room was vacant. The one in the rear was to be the sleeping apartment, as was evident from a huge, unwieldy bedstead, of proportions amply sufficient to have accom- modated Og, the King of Bashan, and Mrs. Og and the children into the bargain. We could not repress our laughter, but the bed- stead was nothing to another structure which occupied a second corner of the apartment. This edifice had been built under the im- mediate superintendence of one of our young lieutenants, and it was plain to be seen that upon it both he and the soldiers who fabri- cated it had exhausted all their architectural skill. The timbers of which it was composed had been grooved and carved; the pillars that supported the front swelled in and out 91 tEfje "earl? ®aj>" in tfce J&ortf)=HJe$t in a most fanciful manner; the doors were not only panelled, but radiated in a way to excite the admiration of all unsophisticated eyes. A similar piece of workmanship had been erected in each set of quarters to supply the deficiency of closets, an inconvenience which had never occurred, until too late, to the bachelors who planned them. The three apartments of which each structure was com- posed, were unquestionably designed for clothes-press, store-room, and china-closet; such, at least, were the uses to which Mrs. Twiggs had appropriated the one assigned to her. There was this slight difficulty, that in the latter the shelves were too close to admit of setting in even a gravy-boat, but they made up in number what was wanting in space. We christened the whole affair, in honor of its projector, a " Davis;" thus plac- ing the first laurel on the brow of one who was afterwards to signalize himself at Buena Vista, and in the Cabinet of his country. 36 The bold promontory on which Fort Win- nebago was built looked down upon the ex- tended prairie and the Fox River on one 36 The allusion is to Jefferson Davis, Secretary of War in President Pierce's cabinet, and President of the south- ern Confederacy. He graduated from West Point in 1 828, and for five years thereafter was stationed at Forts Craw- ford and Winnebago, in present-day Wisconsin. — Ed. 92 Jfort ailtnnebago side, and on the other stretched away into the thickly wooded ridge that led off to Belle- fontaine 37 and Lake Puckaway. In front lay an extent of meadow, across which was the Portage road, of about two miles in length, leading between the Fox and the Wisconsin rivers. Teams of oxen and a driver were kept at the Agency by the Gov- ernment, to transport the canoes of the In- dians across this place, which at many sea- sons was wet, miry, and almost impassable. 38 The woods were now brilliant with the many tints of autumn, and the scene around was further enlivened by groups of Indians, in all directions, and their lodges, which were scattered here and there, in the vicinity of the Agency buildings. On the low grounds might be seen the white tents of the traders, already prepared to furnish winter supplies to the Indians, in exchange for the annuity money they were about to receive. 37 Bellefontaine was the name of a farm maintained by Pierre Paquette on the Green Bay road about twelve miles from Fort Winnebago. — Ed. 38 This was the noted Fox-Wisconsin portage, which Fort Winnebago guarded, first visited by white men by Jolliet and Marquette in 1673. Pierre Paquette main- tained teams and men here to transfer traders over the portage. The red men needed no assistance, since their canoes could be carried easily on the shoulders of the owners. — Ed. 93 Z\)t "Carlp Sap" in Hje J?ortf)=3Ues;t A great concourse had been for many days mbling In anticipation of the payment, which was expected to take place as soon as Shaw-nee-aw-kee should arrive with the sil\ er. Preparatory to this event, the great chief of the nation, Four-Legs, whose village we had passed at the entrance to Winnebago Lake, had thought proper to take a little i apt to he the custom when the savages come into the neighborhood of a sutler's establishment. In the present in- stance, the facilities tor a season of "intoxica- tion had been augmented by the presence on the ground of some traders, too regardless of the very stringent laws prohibiting the sale of liquor to the Indians. Poor hour-Legs could not stand this full tide of prosperity. Unchecked by the pres- ence ot his "father," the agent, he carried his Indulgence to such excess that he fell a victim in the course ot a tew days. His funeral had been celebrated with unusual pomp the day before our arrival, and great was my disappointment at finding myself too late to witness all the ceremonies. I lis body, according to their custom, hav- ing been wrapped in a blanket, and placed in a rude coffin, along with his guns, toma- hawk, pipes, and a quantity of tobacco, had 94 jfort Winnebago been carried to the most elevated point of the hill opposite the fort, followed by an im- mense procession of his people, whooping, beating their drums, howling, and making altogether what is emphatically termed a " pow-wow" After the interment of the body a stake was planted at its head, on which was painted in vermilion a series of hieroglyphics, descriptive of the great deeds and events of his life. The whole was then surrounded with pickets of the trunks of the tamarack trees, and hither the friends would come for many successive days to renew the expres- sion of their grief, and to throw over the grave tobacco and other offerings to the Great Spirit. It was a consolation to find that, although delayed, we were yet in time to furnish a quantity of white cotton for a flag to wave over the grave, and also to pay a consider- able bill at the sutler's, for the different arti- cles that had been found necessary for the funeral parade — it being a duty expected of their father to bury the dead suitably. The funeral observances in honor of the chief had not yet ceased. Throughout the day, and all that night, the sound of instru- ments, mingled with doleful lamentations, and with the discordant whoops and yells of 95 tC&e "earlp ®ap" in tfte MovfcWLt&t those in a partial state of intoxication, filled the air, and disturbed our repose. To these were added occasionally the plaintive sounds of the Indian flute, upon which the young savage plays when he is in love. Grief and whiskey had made their hearts tender, and the woods resounded to their melancholy strains. Early the following morning, before I left my room, I was startled by the sounds of lamentation and woe proceeding from the adjoining apartment. On entering it, I found several squaws seated on the floor, with downcast looks expressive of condo- lence and sympathy, while in their midst sat a little ugly woman, in tattered garments, with blackened face and dishevelled hair, sobbing and wailing bitterly. Not doubting they were the family of the deceased chief, I was quite troubled at my inability to express, otherwise than by ges- tures, my participation in their sorrows. I nacquainted as I was with their customs, I took it for granted from their wretched appearance that poverty and destitution formed one of the sources of their affliction. One of the party, at least, seemed in the very depths of misery. " Can it be possible," said I to myself, "that this poor creature has only these scanty rags to cover her?" 96 jfort IHtmteimgo Stepping back to my own room, I brought out a pretty calico wrapper, which I pre- sented to the little dirty, blackened object. She took it, and commenced a fresh series of sobbing and sighing. I made signs to her to put it on, opening it and explaining to her how it was to be worn, and recommending to her, by gestures, to lose no time in making herself more comfortable. At this, the other women burst into a laugh. "Very mal-a-propos," thought I, "and somewhat unfeeling/' At that moment my husband entering, explained to me that the chief mourner was Madame Four-Legs, the widow; that she had undoubtedly a comfort- able wardrobe at home, but that it was part of the etiquette of mourning to go for a sea- son with neglected persons and blackened faces. All this was told me in the intervals of shaking hands, and offering and receiving condolences in the most uncouth, guttural language I had ever heard. Their "father" at length dismissed them, with a promise of some presents to help dry up their tears. It must not be inferred that the grief of the poor little widow was not sincere. On the contrary, she was greatly attached to her husband, and had had great influence not only with him but with the nation at large. 97 CJje "earlp ©ap" in fte J?ortfj=«Ie£t She was a Fox woman, and spoke the Chip- pewa, which is the court language among all the tribes, so that she was often called upon to act as interpreter, and had, in fact, been in the habit of accompanying her husband, and assisting him by her counsels upon all occasions. She was a person of great shrewd- ness and judgment, and as I afterwards ex- perienced, of strong and tenacious affections. After breakfast I received a visit from the principal chiefs, who had put on their best of apparel and paint, to receive their new "mother." There was Naw-kaw, or Kar-ray-mau- nee, "the Walking Rain," now the principal chief of the nation, a stalwart Indian, with a broad, pleasant countenance, the great pe- culiarity of which was an immense under lip, hanging nearly to his chin. There was the old Day-kau-ray, the most noble, digni- fied, and venerable of his own, or indeed of any other, tribe. His fine Roman counte- nance, rendered still more striking by his bald head, with one solitary tuft of long sil- very hair neatly tied and falling back on his shoulders; his perfectly neat, appropriate dress, almost without ornament and his courteous demeanor, never laid aside, under any circumstances, all combined to give him the highest place in the consideration of all 9 8 Jfort Winnebago who knew him. It will hereafter be seen that his traits of character were not less grand and striking, than were his personal appearance and deportment. There was Black-Wolf, whose lowering, surly face was well described by his name. The fierce expression of his countenance was greatly heightened by the masses of heavy black hair hanging round it, quite contrary to the usual fashion among the Winneba- goes. They, for the most part, remove a portion of their hair, the remainder of which is drawn to the back of the head, clubbed and ornamented with beads, ribbons, cock's feathers, or, if they are so entitled, an eagle's feather for every scalp taken from an enemy. There was Talk-English, a remarkably handsome, powerful young Indian, who re- ceived his name in the following manner. He was one of a party of sixteen Winneba- goes, who had, by invitation accompanied their Agent and Major Forsyth 39 (or the 39 Robert Allen Forsyth, born at Detroit in 1798, was a son of Robert A. Forsyth, half-brother of John Kinzie. The younger man served in the War of 181 2, and for a time as secretary to Governor Cass. He was later for many years a paymaster in the army. He had been employed by John Kinzie at Chicago in early manhood, and has been called (possibly incorrectly) Chicago's first schoolmaster. During most of his life his residence was at Detroit, where he died, Oct. 21, 1849. — Ed. 99 W$t "earl? Bap" m tfje JlortthJUetft Chippewa as he was called), on a visit to the President at Washington, the year pre- vious. On the journey, the question naturally addressed to them by people not familiar with Western Indians was, "Do you talk English ?" The young fellow being very observant, came to his "father." "What do they mean by this? Everybody says to me, talk Eng- lish!" The Agent interpreted the words to him. "Ah, very well." The next place they arrived at was Lock- port, in the State of New York. Jumping off the canal-boat upon the lock, he ran up to the first man he met, and thrusting for- ward his face cried out, "Talk Eengeesh?" "Yes," said the man; "do you talk Eng- lish?" "Ya-as." From that time forward, he always bore the name of Talk-English, and was registered on the pay-rolls by a title of which he was not a little proud. Hoo-wau-nee-kah, "the Little Elk," was another of the distinguished men of the tribe. He had likewise been at Washington. Henry Clay, when he visited them, after looking carefully at the countenances and bearing ioo Jfort Hh'nnebago of all the members of the deputation, had in- dicated him as the one possessing the great- est talent; and he was greatly pleased when informed that he was the principal orator of the nation, and decidedly superior in abili- ties to any other individual of the tribe. Wild-Cat, our Indian FalstarT, in all save the cowardice and falsehood, I have already mentioned. Then there was Kau-ray-kaw-saw-kaw, "the White Crow," or Rock River Indian, who afterwards distinguished himself as the friend of the whites during the Sauk war. He was called by the French "le Borgne," from having lost an eye; and the black silk handkerchief, which he wore drooping over the left side of his face to disguise the blem- ish, taken with his native costume, gave him a very singular appearance. There was a nephew of the defunct chief Four-Legs, to whom was with justice given, by both whites and Indians, the appellation of "the Dandy." When out of mourning his dress was of the most studied and fanci- ful character. A shirt (when he conde- scended to wear any) of the brightest colors, ornamented with innumerable rows of sil- ver brooches, set thickly together; never less than two pairs of silver arm-bands; leg- gings and moccasins of the most elaborate IOI ©fje "€arlp ®ap" in tfje Movtt)=Wit#t embroidery in ribbons and porcupine quills; everything that he could devise in the shape of ornament hanging to his club of hair be- hind; a feather fan in one hand, and a mir- ror in the other, in which he contemplated himself every five minutes; these, with the variety and brilliancy of the colors upon his face, the suitable choice and application of which occupied no small portion of the hours allotted to his toilet; such made up the equipment of young Four-Legs. This devotion to dress and appearance seemed not altogether out of place in a youthful dandy, but we had likewise an old one of the same stamp. Pawnee Blanc, or the White Pawnee, if possible, surpassed his younger competitor in attention to his per- sonal attractions. Upon the present occasion he appeared in all his finery, and went through the custom- ary salutations with an air of solemn dig- nity, then entered, as did the others, into the parlor (for I had received them in the hall), where they all seated themselves upon the floor. Fortunately, the room was now bare of furniture, but "alas!" thought I, "for my pretty carpet, if this is to be the way they pay their respects to me!" I watched the falling of the ashes from their long pipes, and the other inconveniences of 1 02 Jfort iHmnebago the use of tobacco, or "kin-ni-kin-nick," with absolute dismay. The visit of the chiefs was succeeded by one from the interpreter and his wife, with all the Canadian and half-breed women, whose husbands found employment at the Agency, or at the American Fur Company's establishment. By this time my piano had been taken from its case and set up in our quarters. To our great joy, we found it entirely uninjured. Thanks to the skill of Nunns and Clark, not a note was out of tune. The women, to whom it was an entire novelty, were loud in their exclamations of wonder and delight. " Eh-h-h! regardez done! Quelle s inventions! Que lies merveilles!"* One, observing the play of my fingers re- flected in the nameboard, called in great ex- ultation to her companions. She had dis- covered, as she thought, the hidden machin- ery by which the sounds were produced, and was not a little mortified when she was un- deceived. *Only look! what inventions! what wonders! I03 Chapter 9 HOUSEKEEPING AS the boats might be expected in a AA few days, it was thought best to be- -*■ -^ gin at once what preparations were in my power towards housekeeping. These were simply the fitting and sewing of my carpets, in which I was kindly assisted by Mrs. Twiggs; and the wife of one of our Frenchmen having come over from the Agency, and made everything tidy and com- fortable, the carpets were soon tacked down, and ready for the reception of the rest of the furniture. I had made many fruitless attempts, both in Detroit and Green Bay, to procure a servant- woman to accompany me to my new home. Sometimes one would present her- self, but, before we could come to a final agreement, the thoughts of the distance, of the savages, the hardships of the jour- ney, or, perhaps, the objections of friends, would interfere to break off the negotia- tion; so that I had at length been obliged to rest satisfied with the simple hope held out by my husband, that one or the other 104 of his French employes, with his wife, would be contented to take up their abode with us. In this state of things, all difficulties seemed to be obviated by the proposal of Major Twiggs, that we should take into our service a young colored girl, whom he had brought from Buffalo, in the spring, to wait on Mrs. T. until her own servants should arrive from the South. 40 Louisa was accordingly sent for, an un- commonly handsome young negress, with an intelligent but very demure countenance, who called herself fifteen years of age, but who, from the progress in vice and iniquity I afterwards discovered her to have made, must have been at least several years older. Be that as it may, she now seemed to have no fault but carelessness and inexperience, of both of which I had great hopes she would improve, under careful training. 40 Many of the army officers were southern men, who frequently solved the servant problem by bringing their slaves along to serve them. Such slaves were to be found at every army post, and such, no doubt, was the status of Mrs. Twiggs "servants." Jefferson Davis was attended by his slave, Pemberton, throughout his five- year stay in Wisconsin. Dred Scott, whose trial in the fifties shook the nation, was a slave from Missouri who accompanied his master, an army officer, to different posts on the Upper Mississippi. — Ed. I0 5 TObe "€arlj> JBap" in fte J?ortf)=Mest My first week's visit with Mrs. Twiggs had just expired when word was given that the boats were in sight — the boats that con- tained our furniture — and the expected ar- rival of Louis Philippe to visit Queen Vic- toria could scarcely have created a more universal sensation, than did this announce- ment in our little community. Although we knew that some hours must yet elapse be- fore they could reach the spot for disem- barkation, we were constantly on the watch, and at length all the young officers, followed by as many of the soldiers as were off duty, accompanied Mr. Kinzie down the bank to the landing, to witness, and if necessary, to assist in helping everything safe to land. Sad was the plight in which matters were found. The water poured out of the corners of the boxes as they were successively hoisted on shore. Too impatient to wait un- til they could be carried up to the fort, the gentlemen soon furnished themselves with hammers and hatchets, and fell eagerly to work, opening the boxes to explore the ex- tent of the damage. Alas for the mahogany! not a piece from which the edges and veneer- ing were not starting. It had all the appear- ance of having lain under the Grande Chute for days. Poor Hamilton was loud in his protestations and excuses. 1 06 2£ou3ekeeptng It was the fault of the men, of the weather, of the way the things were packed. "Con- found it! he had taken the best care of the things he possibly could — better than he had ever taken before — it would get done!" There was nothing but to be patient and make the best of it. And when the pretty sideboard and worktable had been thor- oughly rubbed and set up, and all the little knickknacks arranged on the mantel-piece — when the white curtains were hung at the windows, and the chairs and dining-table each in its proper place in relation to the piano, our parlor was pronounced "magnifi- cent." At least so seemed to think Hamilton, who came to give one admiring look, and to hear the music of the piano, which was a perfect novelty to him. His description of it to the young officers, after his return to the Bay, was expressive of his admiration and wonder — "There it stood on its four legs! Anybody might go up and touch it!" In due time the dinner and tea sets were carefully bestowed in the "Davis," together with sundry jars of sweetmeats that I had prepared in Detroit; the iron and tin uten- sils were placed in a neat cupboard in the kitchen, of which my piano-box supplied the frame; the barrel of eggs and tubs of butter, brought all the way from Ohio, were ranged 107 W$t "€arl|> ®ap" tn fte J|ortf)=Mle£t in the store-room; a suitable quantity of salt pork and flour, purchased from the Commis- sary; and there being no lack of game of every description, the offering of our red children, we were ready to commence housekeeping. The first dinner in her own home is an era in the life of a young housekeeper. I shall certainly never forget mine. While I was in the lower regions superintending my very inexpert little cook, my husband made his appearance to say that, as the payment (then the all-absorbing topic of interest) would not commence until afternoon, he had invited M. Rolette, Mr. Hempstead, and four other gentlemen to dine with us. "So unexpected — so unprepared for?" "Never mind; give them anything you have. They have been living for some days in tents, and anything will taste well to them." My dinner had been intended to consist chiefly of a venison pasty, and fortunately the only dish among my store was of very large proportions, so that there was already smoking in the oven a pie of a size nearly equal to the famous Norwich pudding; thus, with some trifling additions to the bill of fare, we made out very well, and the master of the house had the satisfaction of hearing the impromptu dinner very much com- mended by his six guests. 1 08 Chapter 10 INDIAN PAYMENT MRS. WASHINGTON THERE were two divisions of the Win- nebago Indians, one of which was paid by the Agent, at the Portage, the other at Prairie du Chien, by Gen. Street. 41 The first, between four and five thousand in number, received, according to treaty stipu- lations, fifteen thousand dollars annually, besides a considerable amount of presents, and a certain number of rations of bread and pork, to be issued in times of emergency throughout the year. The principal villages of this division of the tribe were at Lake Winnebago, Green and Fox Lakes, the Barribault, Mud Lake, the Four Lakes, Kosh-ko-nong, and Turtle Creek. Messengers were dispatched, at or before the arrival of the annuity-money, to all the dif- ferent villages, to notify the heads of families or lodges to assemble at "the Portage." 41 Joseph M. Street was a native of Virginia who upon the death of Nicholas Boilvin in 1827 succeeded him as agent to the Winnebago at Prairie du Chien. In 1839 he removed to Agency City, on the Des Moines River, where he died, May 5, 1840. — Ed. IO9 Wbt "<£arlp Sap" in fte i2ortf)4He£t When arrived, the masters of families, un- der their different chiefs, give in their names, and the number in their lodges, to be regis- tered. As in paying a certain sum of money is apportioned to each individual, it is, of course, an object to make the number regis- tered as great as possible. Each one brings his little bundle of sticks, and presents it to the Agent to register. Sometimes a dialogue like the following occurs: "I Ew many have you in your lodger" The Indian carefully, and with great cere- mony, counts his bundle of sticks — "Fif- > » teen. " 1 low many men :" "Two." The Agent lays aside two sticks. " I low many women r " "Three." Three more sticks are sepa- rated. "How many children?" it." Eight sticks are added to the heap. " What is the meaning of these two sticks that remain:" The culprit, whose arithmetic has not served him to carry out his deception, dis- appears amid the shouts and jeers of his com- panions, who are always well pleased at the detection of any roguery in which they have had no share. no Snbtan $apment — fflvx. IBastfn'ngton The young officers generally assisted in counting out and delivering the money at these payments, and it was no unusual thing, as the last band came up, for the chiefs to take a quantity of silver out of the box, and request their "father" to pay his friends for their trouble, seeming really dis- turbed at his refusal. In this, as in almost every instance, we see the native courtesy and politeness, which are never lost sight of among them. If a party comes to their "fa- ther," to beg for provisions, and food is offered them, however hungry they may be, each waits patiently until one of the company makes an equal distribution of the whole, and then, taking his share, eats it quietly, with the greatest moderation. I never saw this rule violated, save in one instance. Our friend, Pawnee Blanc, the Old Dandy , once came with a party of Indians, request- ing permission to dance for us, in the open space before the door. It was a warm, dusty afternoon, and as our friends grew heated and fatigued with the violent and long- continued exercise, a pitcher of raspberry negus was prepared and sent out to them. Pawnee received the pitcher and tumbler, and pouring the latter about half full, gave it to the first of the circle, then filled the same for the next, and so on, until it suddenly in Z\)t "(garb Bap" tn tfje &ovti)=Wt&t occurred to him to Look into the pitcher. What he saw there determined his course of action, so, 9etting the tumbler upon the ground, he raised the pitcher with both hands to his lips and gave a hearty pull, after which he went on, giving less and less, until he was called to have the pitcher replen- ished. All present agreed it was the only instance they had ever witnessed, of an In- dian's appearing afraid of getting less of a thing than his share. During the payment a good many kegs of whiskey rind their way into the lodges of the Indians, notwithstanding the watchfulness of both officers and Agent. Where there is a demand there will always be a supply, let the legal prohibitions be what they may. The last day of the payment is, too often, one of general carousing. When the men begin their frolic, the women carefully gather all the guns, knives, tomahawks, and weapons of every descrip- tion, and secrete them, that as little mis- chief as possible may be done in the absence of all restraint and reason. I am sorry to re- cord that our little friend, Pawnee Blanc, was greatly addicted to the pleasures of the bottle. Among the presents for the chiefs, which Shaw-nee-aw-kee had brought from the east, 112 Snbtan $apment — Mv#. ©fefjtngton was a trunk of blue cloth coats, trimmed with broad gold lace, and a box of round black hats, ornamented in a similar manner. All who are familiar with Indians, of what- ever tribe, will have observed that their first step towards civilization, whether in man or woman, is mounting a man's hat, decorated with tinsel, ribbons, or feathers. Pawnee was among the happy number remembered in the distribution, so donning at once his new costume, and tying a few additional bunches of gay-colored ribbons to a long spear, that was always his baton of cere- mony, he came at once, followed by an ad- miring train, chiefly of women, to pay me a visit of state. The solemn gravity of his countenance, as he motioned away those who would ap- proach too near, and finger his newly- received finery — the dignity with which he strutted along, edging this way and that to avoid any possible contact from homely, every-day wardrobes, augured well for a con- tinuance of propriety and self-respect, and a due consideration of the good opinion of all around. But, alas, for Pawnee! Late in the day we saw him assisted towards his lodge by two stout young Indians, who had pulled him out of a ditch, his fine coat covered with mud, his hat battered and bruised, his spear ii3 Z%t "Carl? Bap" in tfje i3ortf)=We*t shorn of its gay streamers, and poor Paw- nee, himself, weeping and uttering all the dolehil lamentations of a tipsy Indian. Among the women with whom I early made acquaintance was the wife of Wau- kaun-zee-kah, the Yellow Thunder, She had accompanied her husband, who was one of the deputation to visit the President, and from that time forth she had been known as "the Washington woman." She had a pleas- ant, old-acquaintance sort of air in greeting me, as much as to say, "You and I have seen something of the world." No expres- sion of surprise or admiration escaped her lips, as her companions, with child-like, laughing simplicity, exclaimed and clapped their hands at the different wonderful ob- jects I showed them. Her deportment said plainly, " Yes, yes, my children, I have seen all these things before." It was not until I put to her ear some tropical shells, of which I had a little cabinet, and she heard it roar- ing in her ear, that she laid aside her apathy of manner. She poked her finger into the opening to get at the animal within, shook it violently, then put it to her ear again, and finally burst into a hearty laugh, and laid it down, acknowledging, by her looks, that this was beyond her comprehension. 114 Sutuan $apment — ffixx. IHastfn'ngton I had one shell of peculiar beauty — my favorite in the whole collection — a small conch, covered with rich, dark veins. Each of the visitors successively took up this shell, and by words and gestures expressed her admiration, evidently showing that she had an eye for beauty — this was on the oc- casion of the parting visit of my red daugh- ters. Shortly after the payment had been com- pleted, and the Indians had left, I discov- ered that my valued shell was missing from the collection. Could it be that one of the squaws had stolen it? It was possible — they would occasionally, though rarely, do such things under the influence of strong temp- tation. I tried to recollect which, among the party, looked most likely to have been the culprit. It could not have been the Washington woman — she was partly civil- ized, and knew better. A few weeks afterwards Mrs. Yellow Thun- der again made her appearance, and care- fully unfolding a gay-colored chintz shawl, which she carried rolled up in her hand, she produced the shell, and laid it on the table before me. I did not know whether to show, by my countenance, displeasure at the trick she had played me, or joy at receiving my treasure back again, but at length decided 115 CJje "Carl; Sap" in tfte Borrf)=3Uefi;t that it was the best policy to manifest no emotion whatever. She prolonged her visit until my hus- band's return, and he then questioned her about the matter. "She had taken the shell to her village, to show to some of her people, who did not come to the payment." "Why had she not asked her mother's leave before carrying it away?" "Because she saw that her mother liked the shell, and she was afraid she would sav — \ This was not the first instance in which Madame Washington had displayed the shrewdness which was a predominant trait in her character. During the visit of the In- dians to the eastern cities, they were taken to various exhibitions, museums, menag- eries, the theatre, ccc. It did not escape their observation that some silver was alv. paid before entrance, and they inquired the reason. It was explained to them. The woman brightened up, as if struck with an idea. "How much do you pay for each oner" Her father told her. "How do you say that in English?" "Two shillings." i shinnin — humph" (good). 116 Snbtan $apment— iittr*. Marfjmgton The next day, when as usual, visitors be- gan to flock to the rooms where the Indians were sojourning, the woman and a young Indian, her confederate, took their station by the door, which they kept closed. When any one knocked, the door was cautiously opened, and the woman extending her hand, exclaimed — "Two shinnin." This was readily paid in each instance, and the game went on, until she had accu- mulated a considerable sum. But this did not satisfy her. At the first attempt of a visitor to leave the room, the door was held close, as before, the hand was extended, and "Two shinnin' y again met his ear. He tried to explain that, having paid for his entrance, he must now go out free. With an inexorable shake of the head, "Two shinnin" was all the English she could understand. The Agent who had entered a short time before, and who, overhearing the dialogue, sat laughing behind his newspaper, waiting to see how it would all end, now came forward and interfered, and the guests were permitted to go forth without a further contribution. The good woman was moreover admon- ished that it was far from the custom of white people to tax their friends and visitors in this manner, and that the practice must be laid aside in future. 117 0$e "Carl? SBap" in fte Bortt=5Ues;t -.other instance of the disposition of the Indians to avail themselves of all the goods that fortune throws in their wav, was the following: Upon the same trip, while passing through ( >hio, one of the party inquired of the Agent, "Do you pay tor all those provisions that et before us at the hotel " Jfes, why do you ask : I thought you perhaps paid for lUSt what we ate of them." At the next Stopping place a tine break- I upon the table, of which, as usual, they partook plentifully. Just as they had finished, the horn sounded for all to take their places in the Btage-coaches. Each sprang to his feet. One seized the plates of iits and poured them into the corner of his blanket; another the remains of a pair of chickens; a third emptied the sugar-bowls; each laid hold of what was nearest him, and in a trice nothir. ft upon the table hut the empty plates and dishes. The landlord and waiters, meanwhile, Stood laughing and enjoying the trick as much as any of the -ators. I pon another occasion, their "father" had endeavored to impress upon them the unseemliness of throwing their refuse pieces, bones, and fragments of food about on the 118 Stttuan Payment— fflt*. IBafitfjmgton table-cloth, pointing out to them the orderly manner of the whites at table, and the pro- priety of keeping everything neat and nice around them. At their next meal, they were served first with a chicken-pie, of which they ate very heartily, and the accumulation of bones on their plates was very abundant. Presently another and more favorite dish appeared. A fine large roasted turkey. A gentleman sat near, and was evidently preparing to carve it. No time was to be lost. What was to be done with the bones? They looked around in some perplexity. A large apple-pie was standing near. The most eager drew it to- wards him, and quick as thought all the bones were deposited upon it, while with a triumphant laugh at the happy idea, he coolly transferred the bird to his own dish, and proceeded to distribute it among his companions. The amazed stranger soon joined in the laugh at the unceremonious manner in which his share of the dinner had vanished. 119 Cfjapter 1 1 LOUISA — DAY-KAU-RAY ON EDUCATION Tl IK payment was now over, and the Indians had dispersed and gone to their wintering grounds. The traders too, had departed, laden with a good share of the silver, in exchange tor which each family had provided itself, as far as possible, with clothing, guns, traps, ammunition, and the other necessaries for their winter use. The Indians are good at a bargain. They are not easily overreached. On the contrary, they understand at once when a charge is ex- orbitant; and a trader who tries his shrewd- ness upon them is sure to receive an expres- sive sobriquet^ which ever after clings to him. For instance, M. Rolette was called by them " Ah-kay-'/aup-ee-tah," five more — be- cause, as they said, let them offer what num- ber of skins they might, in bartering for an article, his terms were invariably "five more." Upon one occasion a lady remarked to him, "Oh, M. Rolette, I would not be en- gaged in the Indian trade; it seems to me a system of cheating the poor Indians." 1 20 Houfea — 3Bap=feau=rap on €bucatton "Let me tell you, madame," replied he with great naivete^ "it is not so easy a thing to cheat the Indians as you imagine. I have tried it these twenty years, and have never succeeded!" We were now settled down to a quiet, domestic life. The military system under which everything was conducted — the bugle- call, followed by the music of a very good band, at "reveille;" the light, animated strains for "sick-call," and soon after for "breakfast;" the longer ceremony of guard- mounting; the "Old English Roast-beef," to announce the dinner hour; the sweet, plain- tive strains of "Lochaber no more," fol- lowed most incongruously by "the Little Cock-Sparrow," at "retreat;" and finally, the long, rolling tattoo, late in the evening, made pleasant divisions of our time, which, by the aid of books, music, and drawing, in addition to household occupations, seemed to fly more swiftly than ever before. It was on Sunday that I most missed my eastern home. I had planned beforehand what we should do on the first recurrence of this sa- cred day, under our own roof. "We shall have, at least," said I to myself, "the Sab- bath's quiet and repose; and I can, among other things, benefit poor Louisa by giving 121 Zi)t "<£arlp ©ap" m tfje Moxti)=Wlt&t her some additional lessons of a serious char- acter." So, while she was removing the breakfast things, I said to her, "Now, Louisa, get your work all finished, and everything put neatly aside, and then come here to me again." 11 Yes, ma'am." We sat down to our books, and read and waited; we waited and read another hour — no Lou- There was music and the sound of voices on the parade in front of our windows, but that did not disturb us; it was what we were daily accustomed to. I must go at length, and see what could be keeping my damsel so. I descended to the kitchen. The breakfast things stood upon the table — the kettles and spider upon the hearth — the fire was out — the kitchen empty. Passing back into the hall, which extended the whole length of the house, and opened in front upon the parade, I perceived a group collected in the area, of all shades and colors, and in the midst, one round, woolly head which I could not mistake, bobbing up and down, now on this side, now on that, while peals of laughter were issuing from the whole group. 122 Houfea — 23ap=feau=rap on (Education " Louisa, " I called, "come here; what are you doing there?" "Looking at inspection." "But why are not your breakfast things washed, and your kitchen swept? Did I not tell you I wished you to come up and learn your lessons?" "Yes, ma'am; but I had to see inspection first. Everybody looks at 'inspection' on Sunday." I found it was in vain to expect to do more for Louisa than give her an afternoon's les- son, and with that I was obliged to content myself. I felt that it would be very pleasant, and perhaps profitable, for all the inmates of the garrison to assemble on this day; one of our number might be found who would read a portion of the church-service, and a sermon from one of our different selections. I approached the subject cautiously, with an inquiry to this effect: "Are there none among the officers who are religiously disposed?" "Oh, yes," replied the one whom I ad- dressed, "there is S ; when he is half- tipsy, he takes his Bible and 'Newton's Works,' and goes to bed and cries over them; he thinks in this way he is excessively pious." 123 QTfje "earlp ®ap" m tfje BorrthWestt S was among the officers who had never called upon us; it was fair to infer that if his religious principles did not correct his own evil habits, they would not aid much in improving others; therefore, it seemed use- less to call in his co-operation in any scheme for a better observance of the Lord's Day. We had to content ourselves with writing to our friends at the east to interest them- selves in getting a missionary sent to us, who should officiate as chaplain in the gar- rison, a plan that seemed to find favor with the officers. The hope of any united reli- gious services was, for the present, laid aside. The post-surgeon having obtained a fur- lough, his place was supplied by Dr. New- hall, 42 of Galena, and thus, by the addition of his gentle, quiet wife, our circle of ladies was now enlarged to three. Here we were, in a wilderness, but yet how contented and happy! A gloom was soon to replace this envied tranquillity in our home. A Frenchman, 42 Dr. Horatio Newhall migrated from St. Louis to Galena in 1827. In the autumn of 1830 he assumed the duties of post surgeon at Fort Winnebago. In 1832 he returned to Galena, where during the Black Hawk War he conducted a military hospital. In addition to his medical work he engaged in journalism, editing the Miners' Journal and (subsequently) the Galena Adver- tiser. — Ed. I2 4 lloutea — Bap=kau=rap on dCbucation named Letendre, one day suddenly pre- sented himself. He had come from Chicago, with the distressing intelligence of the ex- treme, indeed hopeless illness of our dear relative, Dr. Wolcott. My husband imme- diately commenced his preparations for in- stant departure. I begged to be permitted to accompany him, but the rapidity with which he proposed to journey obliged him to refuse my entreaties. In a few hours his pro- visions, horses, and all other things neces- sary for the journey were in readiness, and he set off with Petaille Grignon, his usual attendant on such expeditions, leaving Le- tendre to follow as soon as recruited from his fatigue. Sad and dreary were the hours of his ab- sence, notwithstanding the kind efforts of our friends to cheer me. In a few days I re- ceived the news of the fatal termination of Dr. W.'s illness, brought by another messen- ger. That noble heart, so full of warm and kindly affections had ceased to beat, and sad and desolate, indeed, were those who had so loved and honored him. As soon as he could possibly leave his family, my husband returned, and it was fortunate that he had delayed no longer, for the winter now began to set in, and with severity. 125 Zf)t "earlp Sap" in Hjc &ovti)=mz$t Our quarters were spacious, but having been constructed of the green trees of the forest, cut down and sawed into boards by the hands ol the soldiers, they were consid- erably given to shrinking and warping, thus leaving many a yawning crevice. Stuffing the cracks with cotton batting, and pasting strips of paper over them, formed the em- ployment of many a leisure hour. Then the chimneys, spite of all the cur- rents of air, which might have been expected to create a draught, had a sad habit of smoking. To remedy this, a couple of gun- barrels had been sawed off and inserted in the hearth, one on each side of the fire place, in the hope that the air from the room below might help to carry the smoke into its proper place, the chimney. The next morning after this had been done, Louisa was washing the hearth. " Pray, ma'am," said she, " what are these things put in here for:" I explained their use. "Oh, I am so glad it is only that. Uncle Ephraim (Major Twiggs' servant) said they were to be filled with powder and fired off Christmas Day, and he was terribly afraid they would blow the house up, and we in it." Ephraim, who was a most faithful and valuable servant, often amused himself with 126 Houfea — ®ap=feau=rap on Cbucatton playing upon the credulity of the younger portions of the colored fraternity. "Is it true," asked Louisa, one day, "that Pillon and Plante were once prairie-wolves ? " "Prairie- wolves! what an idea! Why do you ask such a foolish question?" "Because uncle Ephraim says they, and all the Frenchmen about here, were once prairie-wolves, and that, living so near the white people, they grow, after a time, to be like them, and learn to talk and dress like them. And then, when they get to be old, they turn back into prairie-wolves again, and that all the wolves that the officers bait with their dogs used to be Frenchmen, once." After a time, however, I ceased to straight- en out these stories of uncle Ephraim, for I was gradually arriving at the conviction that my little colored damsel was by no means so simple and unsophisticated as she would have me believe, and that I was, after all, the one who was imposed upon. The snow this winter was prodigious, and the cold intense. The water would freeze in our parlors at a very short distance from the fire, for, although the "fatigue parties" kept the hall filled with wood, almost up to the ceiling, that did not counterbalance the in- convenience of having the wide doors thrown open to the outer air for a great portion of 127 W$t "€arlp ©ap" in fte j£ortfj=llIe*t the day, to allow of their bringing it in. We Northerners should have had wood-houses specially for the purpose, and not only have kept our great hall-doors closed, but have likewise protected them with a "hurricane house." But the Florida frontier was not a station for our southern bachelors to have acquired the knowledge that would have been available when the thermometer was twenty-five degrees below zero — at a point that brandy congealed in the sideboard. The arrival of Christmas and New Year's brought us our Indian friends again. They had learned something of the observation of these holidays from their French neighbors, and I had been forewarned that I should see the squaws kissing every white man they met. Although not crediting this to its full extent, I could readily believe that they would each expect a present, as a "compli- ment of the season," so I duly prepared my- self with a supply of beads, ribbons, combs, and other trinkets. Knowing them to be fond of dainties, I had also a quantity of crullers and doughnuts made ready the day before, as a treat to them. To my great surprise and annoyance, only a moderate share of the cakes, the frying of which had been entrusted to Louisa, were brought up to be placed in the "Davis." 128 Houtea — ®ap=feau=rap on €tmcatton "Where are the rest of the cakes, Louisa ? " "That great fellow, Hancock, came in with the fatigue party to fill the water- barrels, and while I had just stepped into the store-room to get some more flour, he carried off all I had got cooked." And Louisa made a face and whined, as if she had not herself treated every soldier who had set his foot in the premises. At an early hour the next morning I had quite a levee of the Ho-tshung-rah matrons. They seated themselves in a circle on the floor, and I was sorry to observe that the ap- plication of a little soap and water to their blankets had formed no part of their holiday preparations. There being no one to inter- pret, I thought I would begin the conversa- tion in a way intelligible to themselves, so I brought out of the sideboard a china dish, filled with the nice brown crullers, over which I had grated, according to custom, a goodly quantity of white sugar. I handed it to the first of the circle. She took the dish from my hand, and deliberately pouring all the cakes into the corner of her blanket, re- turned it to me empty. "She must be a most voracious person," thought I, "but I will manage better the next time." I refilled the dish, and approached the next one, tak- ing care to keep a fast hold of it as I offered 129 Cfte "€arlp Bap" in tfje jSorrtj^Hetft the contents, of which I supposed she would modestly take one. Not so, however. She scooped out the whole with her two hands, and, like the former, bestowed them in her blanket. My sense of politeness revolted at banding them out one by one, as we do to children, so I sat down to deliberate what was to be done, for evidently the supply would not long answer such an ample de- mand, and there would be more visitors anon. While I was thus perplexed those who had received the cakes commenced a distribu- tion, and the whole number was equitably divided among the company. But I ob- served they did not eat them. They passed their fingers over the grated sugar, looked in each other's faces, and muttered in low tones — there was evidently something they did not understand. Presently one more adven- turous than the rest wet her fingers, and tak- ing up a few grains of the sugar put it cau- tiously to her mouth. "Tah-nee-zhoo-rah!" (Sugar!) was her de- lighted exclamation, and they all broke out into a hearty laugh; it is needless to say that the cakes disappeared with all the celerity they deemed compatible with good-breeding. Never having seen any sugar but the brown or yellow maple, they had supposed the 130 Eouitfa — Bap=feau=rap on €bucatton white substance to be salt, and for that rea- son had hesitated to taste it. Their visit was prolonged until Shaw-nee- aw-kee made his appearance, and then, hav- ing been made happy by their various gifts, they all took their departure. About this time, Mr. Kinzie received a letter from Col. Richard M. Johnson, of Kentucky. This gentleman had interested himself greatly in a school established in that State, for the education of Indian youths and children. The purport of his let- ter was to request the Agent to use every endeavor to induce the Winnebagoes not only to send their children to this institution for their education, but also (what was still more important) to set apart a portion of their annuity money, to assist in sustain- ing it. There happened to be, at this holiday sea- son, a number of the chiefs in the neighbor- hood of the Portage, and a messenger was sent to convene them all at the house of Pa- quette, the interpreter, that their "father" might hold a talk with them. On the day appointed they all assembled. The subject matter of the letter was laid be- fore them, and all the advantages of civiliza- tion and education duly set forth — the bene- fits which would arise to their nation, if even 131 Z\)t "earlp Bap" m tfte Moxti)=mt&t a small portion of the younger members could be well-taught by the whites, and then return to their tribe, to instruct them in the learning, the arts, manufactures, and habits of civilized lite. To each paragraph, as it was uttered to them, they gave a unanimous 11 1 lumph!" (Good.) When their "father's" address was ended, Day-kau-ray, the oldest and most venerable among the chiefs, rose and spoke as follows: — " Father, — The Great Spirit made the white man and the Indian. He did not make them alike. lie gave the white man a heart to love peace, and the arts of a quiet life. He taught him to live in towns, to build houses, to make books, to learn all things that would make him happy and prosperous in the way of lite appointed him. To the red man the Great Spirit gave a different char- acter. He gave him a love of the woods, of a free life, of hunting and fishing, of making war with his enemies and taking scalps. The white man does not live like the Indian — it is not his nature. Neither does the In- dian love to live like the white man — the Great Spirit did not make him so. " Father, — We do not wish to do anything contrary to the will of the Great Spirit. If he had made us with white skins, and char- acters like the white men, then we would 132 Xoutea — ®ap=feau=rap on €irucatton send our children to this school to be taught like the white children. ''Father, — We think that if the Great Spirit had wished us to be like the whites, he would have made us so. As he has not seen fit to do so, we believe he would be dis- pleased with us, to try and make ourselves different from what he thought good. "Father, — I have nothing more to say. This is what we think. If we change our minds, we will let you know." It will be seen from these remarks of Day- kau-ray, that the Indians entertain a con- viction that the Great Spirit himself teaches the white man the arts and sciences, and since he has given the red man no instruc- tion in these branches, it would be unbecom- ing in him to attempt to acquire them in an irregular manner. With little incidents of this kind, and with an occasional dinner or tea-party to the young officers, sometimes given at the Ma- jor's quarters, sometimes at our own, our course of life passed pleasantly on. At times I would amuse myself by making "some- thing very nice" in the form of a fruit cake or pie, to send to the quarters of the young officers as a present, it being supposed that possibly, without a lady to preside over their mess, it might be sometimes deficient in *33 Zi)t "<£arlp Bap" in fte J|orrf)=We£t these delicacies. Mrs. Twiggs was so fortu- nate as to have well-trained servants to do for her that which, thanks to my little dark handmaid, always tell to my share. ( me day I had made some mince pies, which the major and my husband greatly ap- proved, and I thought I would send one to each of the young officers. It happened that my husband, that day, in returning from superintending his men on the other side of the river, had occasion to call on some errand at Captain Harney's quarters. Dinner had just been placed upon the table, and the Captain insisted on his visitor's sit- ting down and partaking with him, and an- other gentleman who was present. The pork and beans were pronounced excellent, and being removed there followed a mince pie. The Captain cut it, and helped his guests, then taking a piece himself, he commenced tasting it. Pushing back his plate with an exclamation and a sudden jerk, he called to his servant, a little thick-set mulatto who waited — "David, you yellow rascal, how dare you put such a pie on my table?" And turning to the company apologetically, he said — "If there is anything on earth David does understand, it is how to make a mince pie, 134 Houtea — 2@ap=feau=rap on Cbutatton and here he has filled this with brandy, so we cannot eat a morsel of it!" "Please, sir," said David, modestly, "I did not make the pie — it is one Mrs. Kinzie sent as a present." The poor Captain was now in a predica- ment. He raved at himself, at the same time conjuring my husband most earnestly not to tell me what a mistake he had made — an in- junction that was lost sight of as soon as he returned to his home. As for the unlucky Captain, he did not venture to call on me again until he felt sure I had forgotten the circumstance. 135 Cfjapter 12 PREPARATIONS FOR A JOURNEY EARLY in January the snow fell in great abundance. We had an unusual quantity at the Portage, but in "the diggings," as the lead-mining country was called, it was of an unheard-of depth — five or six feet upon a level. 43 An express had been dispatched to Chi- cago by the officers to take our letters, and bring back the mail from that place. A tough, hardy soldier, named Sulky, acted as messenger, and he had hitherto made light of his burden or the length of the way, not- withstanding that his task was performed on foot with his pack upon his shoulders. But now Sulky had been absent some weeks, and we had given him up entirely, persuaded that he must have perished with cold and starvation. 43 The winter of 1830-31 was always remembered by the pioneers for its unusual severity, and numerous stories of individual hardships suffered, and meteor- ological wonders observed, have been preserved. The observations of Mrs. Kinzie find confirmation in almost every local history which deals with the pioneer period in the Northwest. — Ed. 136 preparations for a Journep At length he appeared, nearly blind from travelling in the snow. He had lain by three weeks in an Indian lodge, the snow being too deep to permit him to journey. The account he gave put an end to the hopes I had begun to entertain of being able to visit our friends at Chicago in the course of this winter. We had, before the last heavy fall of snow, been forming plans to that effect. Captain Harney had kindly commenced preparing some trains, or boxes placed on sledges, which it was thought would, when lined with buffalo skins, furnish a very comfort- able kind of vehicle for the journey; and I was still inclined to think a good, deep bed of snow over the whole country no great ob- stacle to a sleigh-ride. The whole matter was, however, cut short by the commanding officer, who from the first had violently op- posed the scheme, declaring that he would order the sentinels to fire on us if we at- tempted to leave the fort. So, finding the majority against us, we were obliged to yield. The arrival of sweet, lovely, little Lizzie Twiggs, before January was quite past, was an event that shed light and joy in at least two dwellings. It seemed as if she belonged to all of us, and as she increased in size and beauty, it was hard to say who, among us all, was most proud of her. If we had ever felt 137 Wfje "€arlp ©ap" m tfce MovfcWlt&t any languid hours before, we could have none now — she was the pet, the darling, the joint-property of both households. Whatever regret I might have had previ- ous to this event, at the idea of leaving my friend for the three weeks to which we pro- posed to limit our visit to Chicago, I felt now that she would scarcely miss me, and that we might hold ourselves in readiness to take advantage of the first improvement in the weather, to put this favorite project in execution. During the latter part of February the cold became less severe. The snows melted away, and by the beginning of March the weather was so warm and genial, that we were quite confident of being able to make the journey on horseback without any seri- ous difficulty. Our plans once settled upon, the first thing to be provided was warm and comfortable apparel. A riding-habit of stout broadcloth was pronounced indispensable to my equip- ment. But of such an article I was destitute. Nothing among my wedding travelling gear seemed in any way to offer a substitute. What was to be done! The requisite mate- rial was to be found in abundance at the sut- ler's store {the shantee as it was technically 138 preparations for a SFournep termed), but how to get it manufactured into a suitable garment was the question. The regimental tailor was summoned. He was cook to one of the companies, and there were at first some doubts whether he could be permitted to forsake the spit for the nee- dle, during the time I should require his serv- ices. All his tailoring-work had, heretofore, been done at odd times on a bench in the company kitchen, and thither he now pro- posed to carry the riding-habit. I suggested that, in order to superintend the work, I should thus be driven to take up my abode for the time being in the barracks, which would be a decided inconvenience. To remedy the difficulty, he was finally so happy as to find a soldier in "Company D," who consented to officiate in his place as cook until his term of service to me should expire. Behold, then, a little, solemn-looking man in his stocking feet, seated cross-legged on an Indian mat by my parlor window. He had made all his arrangements himself, and I deemed it wisest not to interfere with him. The cutting-out was the most difficult part, and as he had never made a lady's riding- habit, that task fell to my share. I was as great a novice as himself, and I must ad- mit that this, my first effort, was open to 139 Cfje "€arlp Sap" tn tfje 3^ortf)=2He6t criticism. But the little tailor was of a dif- ferent opinion. He was in an ecstasy with our joint performance. "Upon my word, madam," he would ex- claim, surveying it with admiring eyes, "we shall have a very respectable garment!" I do not know how many times he repeated this during the three days that the work was in progress. I believe he had not perfect confidence in the culinary powers of his comrade of " Com- pany I)," for regularly a half-hour before beat of drum, his work was folded and laid aside, his snips gathered up, and all things being restored to order, he would slip out, resume his shoes, which, Turk-like, he had left outside the door, and speed over to the barrack-kitchen to see how matters were go- ing on. In the meantime, great preparations were making below, under the supervision of our tidy, active, little French servant, Mrs. Pil- lon, the wife of one of the engages, by whom the irregular and unmanageable Louisa had been replaced. Biscuits were baked, a ham, some tongues, and sundry pieces of salt-pork were boiled, coffee roasted and ground, sugar cracked, isinglass cut in pieces of the size requisite for a pot of coffee. For the reception of all these 140 preparations for a 3fournep different articles cotton bags of different sizes had been previously prepared. Large sacks of skin, called by the Canadians pouches, were also provided to hold the more bulky provisions, for our journey was to be a long one. The distance from Fort Winnebago to Chicago was not very formidable, it is true, if the direct route were taken, but that we knew to be impossible at this season of the year. The route by Kosh-ko-nong was out of the question; all the Indians being absent from their villages in the winter, and the ice being now gone, we could have no means of crossing the Rock River at that place. There remained therefore no alternative but to proceed south to Dixon, or, as it was then called, Ogie's Ferry, the only certain means of crossing this broad and rapid stream. This route being so much out of our direct course that we could not hope to ac- complish it in less than six days, it was nec- essary to prepare accordingly. While the wardrobe and provisions were thus in preparation, arrangements were also to be made as to our retinue and mode of conveyance. Mr. Kinzie decided to take with him but two men: Plante and Pierre Roy. The for- mer to act as guide, on the assurance that he 141 tEbe "earlp ®ap" in fte M*vti)=Wlt$t knew every mile of the way, from the Por- tage to Ogie's Ferry, and from Ogie's Ferry to Chicago. The claims of the different saddle-horses were discussed, and the most eligible one se- lected for my use. We hesitated for a time between " Le Gris " and " Souris," two much- vaunted animals, belonging to Paquette, the interpreter. At length being determined, like most of my sex, by a regard for exterior, I chose "Le Gris," and "Souris" was as- signed to young Roy; my own little stumpy pony, "Brunet," being pronounced just the thing for a pack-saddle. My husband rode his own bay horse "Tom," while Plante, the gayest and proudest of the party, bestrode a fine, large animal called "Jerry," which had lately been purchased for my use, and thus was our cortege complete. 142 Chapter 13 DEPARTURE FROM FORT WINNEBAGO HAVING taken a tender leave of our friends, the morning of the 8th of March saw us mounted and equipped for our journey. The weather was fine — the streams, already fringed with green, were sparkling in the sun — everything gave prom- ise of an early and genial season. In vain, when we reached the ferry at the foot of the hill on which the fort stood, did Major Twiggs repeat his endeavors to dissuade us from commencing a journey which he as- sured me would be perilous beyond what I could anticipate. I was resolute. Our party was augmented by an escort of all the young officers, who politely insisted on accompanying us as far as Duck Creek, four miles distant. Indeed, there were some who would gladly have prosecuted the whole journey with us, and escaped the monot- ony of their solitary, uneventful life. In our rear followed an ox-cart, on which was perched a canoe, destined to transport us over the creek, and also an extensive marsh beyond it, which was invariably, at this 143 W&t "€arlp ©ap" in tfje MovfcWltxt season, overflowed with water to a consid- erable depth. We had much amusement in watching the progress of this vehicle as it bumped and thumped over the road, uncon- scious hitherto of the dignity of a wheeled carriage. Our little shock-headed, sun-burnt, thick- lipped Canadian (who happened most mirac- ulously to be the husband of my pretty serv- ant, Mrs. Pillon), shouted vociferously as the animals lagged in their pace, or jolted against a stump, " Marchez, don-g" "re- gardez" " prenez-garde" to our infinite di- version. I was in high spirits, foreseeing no hardships or dangers, but rather imagining myself embarked on a pleasure excursion across the prairies. It had not even sug- gested itself to me that a straw bonnet and kid gloves were no suitable equipment for such an expedition. Never having travelled at so inclement a season, I was heedlessly ignorant of the mode of preparing against it, and had resisted or laughed at my husband's suggestions to provide myself with blanket socks, and a woollen capuchon for my head and shoulders. And now, although the wind occasionally lifted my headgear with a rude puff, and my hands ere long became swollen and stiffened with the cold, I persuaded my- self that these were trifling evils, to which I 144 departure from Jfort iSHmnebago should soon get accustomed. I was too well pleased with the novelty of my outfit, with my hunting-knife in a gay scabbard hanging from my neck, and my tin cup at my saddle- bow, to regard minor inconveniences. On reaching Duck Creek, we took leave of our young friends, who remained on the bank long enough to witness our passage across — ourselves in the canoe, and the poor horses swimming the stream, now filled with cakes of floating ice. Beyond the rising ground which formed the opposite bank of the stream, extended a marsh of perhaps three hundred yards across. To this the men carried the canoe which was to bear us over. The water was not deep, so our attendants merely took off the pack from Brunet and my side-saddle from Le Gris, for fear of accidents, and then mounted their own steeds, leading the two extra ones. My husband placed the furni- ture of the pack-horse and my saddle in the centre of the canoe, which he was to paddle across. "Now, wifie," said he, "jump in, and seat yourself flat in the bottom of the canoe." "Oh, no," said I; "I will sit on the little trunk in the centre; I shall be so much more comfortable, and I can balance the canoe exactly." H5 Wbz "<£arlp ®ap" in tfje J|ortf)=Meat "As you please, but I think you will find it is not the best way." A vigorous push sent us a few feet from the bank. At that instant two favorite grey- hounds whom we had brought with us, and who had stood whining upon the bank, re- luctant to take to the water as they were ordered, gave a sudden bound, and alighted full upon me. The canoe balanced a mo- ment — then yielded — and, quick as thought, dogs, furniture, and lady were in the deepest of the water. My husband, who was just preparing to spring into the canoe when the dogs thus un- ceremoniously took precedence of him, was at my side in a moment, and seizing me by the collar of my cloak, begged me not to be frightened. I was not, in the least, and only laughed as he raised and placed me again upon the bank. The unfortunate saddle and little trunk were then rescued, but not until they had received a pretty thorough wetting. Our merriment was still further increased by the sight of the maladroit Pillon, who was attempting to ride my spirited Jerry across the marsh. He was clinging to the neck of the animal, with a countenance distorted with terror, as he shouted forth all man- ner of French objurgations. Jerry pranced 146 departure from Jfort {OimtebagQ and curvetted, and finally shot forward his rider, or rather his burden, headfore- most, a distance of several feet into the water. A general outcry of mirth saluted the un- fortunate Frenchman, which was redoubled as he raised himself purring and snorting from his watery bed, and waddled back to his starting-place, the horse, meanwhile, very sensibly making his way to join his companions, who had already reached the further bank. "Well, wifie," said Mr. Kinzie, "I cannot trust you in the canoe again. There is no way but to carry you across the marsh like a papoose. Will you take a ride on my shoulders?" "With all my heart, if you will promise to take me safely" — and I was soon mounted. I must confess that the gentleman stag- gered now and then under his burden, which was no slight one, and I was sadly afraid, more than once, that I should meet a similar fate to old Pillon, but happily we reached the other side in safety. There my husband insisted on my putting on dry shoes and stockings, and (must I con- fess it) drinking a little brandy, to obviate the effects of my icy bath. He would fain have made a halt to kindle a fire and dry my H7 B%e "Carl? 3Bap" in rtje jlortfj-HIcst apparel and wardrobe properly, but this I would not listen to. I endeavored to prove to him that the delay would expose me to more cold than riding in my wet habit and cloak, and so indeed it might have been, but along with my convictions upon the subject there was mingled a spice of reluctance that our friends at the fort should have an oppor- tunity, as they certainly would have done, ot laughing at our inauspicious commence- ment. Soon our horses were put in order, and our march recommenced. The day was fine for the season. I felt no inconvenience from my wet garments, the exercise of riding taking away all feeling of chilliness. It was to me a new mode ot travelling, and I enjoyed it the more from having been secluded tor more than five months within the walls of the fort, rcely varying the tenor of our lives by an occasional walk of half a mile into the sur- rounding woods. We had still another detention upon the road, from meeting Lapierre, the blacksmith, from Sugar Creek, who with one of his asso- ciates was going into the Portage for sup- plies, so that we had not travelled more than twenty-three miles when we came to our proposed encamping ground. It was upon a beautiful stream, a tributary ot one of the 148 departure from Jfort ®Htntte6ago Four Lakes,* that chain whose banks are un- rivalled for romantic loveliness. I could not but admire the sagacity of the horses, who seemed, with human intelli- gence, to divine our approach to the spot where their toils were to cease. While still remote from the " point of woods" which foretold a halt, they pricked up their ears, accelerated their pace, and finally arrived at the spot on a full gallop. We alighted at an open space, just within the verge of the wood, or, as it is called by western travellers, "the timber." My hus- band recommended to me to walk about un- til a fire should be made, which was soon accomplished by our active and experienced woodsmen, to whom the felling of a large tree was the work of a very few minutes. The dry grass around furnished an excellent tinder, which soon ignited by the sparks from the flint (there were no loco-jocos^ *Between two of these lakes is now situated the town of Madison — the capital of the State of Wisconsin. ^Loco/ocos, as here used, means matches. About the year 1836 the term gained widespread currency as the nickname for one branch of the Democratic party in the United States, which for a quarter of a century thereafter was familiarly known as the Locofoco party. Friction matches were invented in England in 1827; several years elapsed, however, before their manufac- ture was begun in the United States. — Ed. I49 QPbe "Carl? 5Sap" in tfje j£ortf)=£iHe$t in those days), and aided by the broken branches and bits of light-wood, soon pro- duced a cheering flame. "The bourgeois," in the meantime, busied himself in setting up the tent, taking care to place it opposite the tire, but in such a direction that the wind would carry the smoke and flame away from the opening or door. Within upon the ground were spread, first a bearskin, then two or three blankets (of which each equestrian had carried two, one under the saddle and one above it), after which, the remainder of the luggage being brought in, I was able to divest myself of all my wet clothing and re- place it with dry. Some idea of the state of the thermometer may be formed from the fact that my riding-habit, being placed over the end of the huge log against which our fire was made, was, in a vcrv few minutes, fro/en so stiff as to stand upright, giving the appearance of a dress out of which a lady had vanished in some unaccountable manner. It would be but a repetition of our experi- ence upon the box River to describe the ham broiled upon the "broches," the toasted bread, the steaming coffee — the primitive table furniture. There is, however, this dif- ference, that of the latter we carry with us in our journeys on horseback only a coffeepot, 150 Beparture from Jfort HHmnebago a teakettle, and each rider his tin cup and hunting-knife. The deportment at table is marked by an absence of ceremony. The knife is drawn from the scabbard — those who remember to do so, vouchsafe it a wipe upon the napkin. Its first office is to stir the cup of coffee — next, to divide the piece of ham which is placed on the half of a travel- ling biscuit, which is held in the left hand, and fulfils the office of a plate. It is an art only to be acquired by long practice, to cut the meat so skilfully as not at the same time to destroy the dish. We take our places around the mat to en- joy what, after our fatiguing ride, we find delicious food. The Frenchmen are seated at a little distance, receiving their supplies of coffee, meat, and bread, and occasionally passing jokes with "the bourgeois," who is their demigod, and for whom their respect and devotion are never lessened by any affa- bility or condescension. The meal being finished, the table furni- ture is rinsed in hot water and set aside until morning. A wisp of dry prairie-grass is sup- posed, in most cases, to render the knife fit to be restored to the scabbard, and there being, at this season of the year, no amuse- ment but that of watching the awkward movements of the spancelled horses, in their I5i Q$e "earlp Bap" m tfje MovfcWicXt progress from spot to spot in search of pas- turage, we are usually soon disposed to arrange our blankets and retire to rest. At break of day we are aroused by the shout of "the bourgeois," " I low! how! how!" All start from their slumbers. The fire which has been occasionally replenished through the night, is soon kindled into a flame. The horses are caught and saddled, while a breakfast, similar in kind to the meal of the preceding evening is preparing — the tent is struck -the pack-horse loaded — "/Oft/ dimanchi" as the Canadian says. The breakfast finished, we rinse our kettles and cups, tie them to our saddle bows, and then mount and away, leaving our rire, or rather our smoke, to tell of our visit. March oth. Our journey this day led us past the first of the Four Lakes. 45 Scat- tered along its banks was an encampment of Winnebagoes. They greeted their "fa- ther" with vociferous joy — "Bon-jour, bo)i- jour^S/uizi'-fire-azi'-kt'c.'" " Hee-nee-karray-kay- ?" (how do you do?) To this succeeded the usual announcement, " ' IVys-kap-rah tsli- oonsh-koo-}iee-no!" [(I have no bread.) 45 First Lake is today called Lake Kegonsa. For many years it has been a favorite resort of vacationists from Chicago and other cities. — Ed. 152 departure from Jfort Wimte&ago This is their form of begging, but we could not afford to be generous, for the uncertainty of obtaining a supply, should our own be ex- hausted, obliged us to observe the strictest economy. How beautiful the encampment looked in the morning sun! The matted lodges, with the blue smoke curling from their tops — the trees and bushes powdered with a light snow which had fallen through the night — the lake, shining and sparkling, almost at our feet — even the Indians, in their peculiar cos- tume, adding to the picturesque! I was sorry to leave it, as we were com- pelled to do, in all haste, Souris, the pack- horse, having taken it into his head to de- camp while we were in conversation with our red friends. As he had, very sensibly, con- cluded to pursue his journey in the right direction, we had the good fortune to over- take him after a short race, and having re- ceived much scolding and some blows from young Roy, whose charge he specially was, he was placed in the middle of the caval- cade, as a mark of disgrace for his breach of duty. Our road, after leaving the lake, lay over a "rolling prairie," now bare and desolate enough. The hollows were filled with snow, which, being partly thawed, furnished an 153 Zi)t "earip Bap" tn tfjc &ovti)=Wit&t uncertain footing tor the horses, and I could not but join in the ringing laughter of our Frenchmen, as occasionally Brun&t and SouriSj the two ponies, would flounder, almost imbedded, through the yielding mass. Even the vain-glorious PI ante, who piqued himself ()n his equestrian skill, was once or twice nearly unhorsed, from having chosen his road badly. Sometimes the elevations were covered with a thicket or copse, in which our dogs would generally rouse up one or more deer. Their first hound, or "lope," was the signal for a chase. The horses seemed to enter into the spirit of it, as "hal- loo" answered "halloo;" hut we were never so fortunate as to get a shot at one, for although the dogs once or twice caught, they were not strong enough to hold them. It was about the middle of the afternoon when we reached the "Blue Mound." 1 '' I rejoiced much to have got so tar, for I was sadly fatigued, and every mile now seemed two to me. In fact, the miles are unconscion- ably long in this country. When I was told that we had still seven miles to go, to ** Blue Mound is a miniature mountain at the west- ern border ot Dane County, the highest elevation in southern Wisconsin. It is on the border ot the lead mine region, and hence the early scene of white settlement. -Ed. 154 Beparture from Jfort HSimtefmgo "Morrison's," 47 where we proposed stopping for the night, I was almost in despair. It was my first journey on horseback, and I had not yet become inured to the exercise. When we reached Morrison's I was so much exhausted that, as my husband at- tempted to lift me from the saddle, I fell into his arms. "This will never do," said he. "To-mor- row we must turn our faces towards Fort Winnebago again." The door opened hospitably to receive us. We were welcomed by a lady with a most sweet, benignant countenance, and by her companion, some years younger. The first was Mrs. Morrison — the other, Miss Eliza- beth Dodge, daughter of General Dodge. 48 47 William Morrison was born at Kaskaskia, 111., in 1799, the son of a prominent merchant and politician of that place. In early manhood he engaged with his father in the Rocky Mountain fur trade. In 1827 he migrated to the lead mine region of southwestern Wis- consin. Upon the founding ol Madison, he removed to that place, where he was the contractor for building the first Capitol, one of the early innkeepers, and long an influential citizen. He died Dec. 23, i860. — Ed. 48 General Henry Dodge, born at Vincennes in 1782, grew to manhood at Ste. Genevieve, Mo. He was a man of dominant character, and perhaps the foremost citizen of Wisconsin in the territorial and early state- hood periods. He served as territorial governor, U. S. senator, and as a valiant and successful soldier. — Ed. 155 ^fje "€arlp Bap" in tfje J&orrtj=«Je$t My husband laid me upon a small bed, in the room where the ladies had been sitting at work. They took off my bonnet and rid- ing-dress, chafed my hands, and prepared me some warm wine and water, by which I was soon revived. A half hour's repose so re- freshed me that I was able to converse with the ladies, and to relieve my husband's mind of all anxiety on my account. Tea was an- nounced soon after, and we repaired to an adjoining building, for Morrison's, like the establishments of all settlers of that period, consisted of a group of detached log-houses or cabins, each containing one or at most two apartments. The table groaned with good cheer, and brought to mind some that I had seen among the old-fashioned Dutch residents on the banks of the Hudson. I had recovered my spirits, and we were quite a cheerful party. Mrs. Morrison told us that during the first eighteen months she passed in this country she did not speak with a white woman, the only society she had be- ing that of her husband and two black serv- ant-women. A Tennessee woman had called in with her little son just before tea, and we amused Mr. Kinzie with a description of the pair. The mother's visit was simply one of courtesy. i 5 6 departure from Jfort liltnnebago She was a little dumpy woman, with a com- plexion burned perfectly red by the sun — hair of an exact tow-color, braided up from her forehead in front and from her neck be- hind, then meeting on the top of her head, was fastened with a small tin comb. Her dress was of checkered homespun, a "very tight fit," and as she wore no ruff or hand- kerchief around her neck, she looked as if just prepared for execution. She was evi- dently awe-struck at the sight of visitors, and seemed inclined to take her departure at once; but the boy, not so easily intimi- dated, would not understand her signs and pinches until he had sidled up to Mrs. Morrison, and drawing his old hat still far- ther over his eyes, begged for a whang, meaning a narrow strip of deer-skin. The lady very obligingly cut one from a large smoked skin, which she produced from its receptacle, and mother and son took their leave, with a smiling but rather a scared look. After tea we returned to Mrs. Morrison's parlor, where she kindly insisted on my again reposing myself on the little bed, to recruit me, as she said, for the ensuing day's journey. My husband, in the meantime, went to look after the accommodation of his men and horses. 157 Z\)t "Carlp Bap" tn fyc flovti)=1[Bt&t During the conversation that ensued, I learned that Mrs. Morrison had passed much time in the neighborhood of my recent home in Oneida county — that many of the friends I had loved and valued were likewise her friends, and that she had even proposed to visit me at Fort Winnebago on hearing of my arrival there, in order to commence an acquaintance which had thus been brought about by other and unexpected means. Long and pleasant was the discourse we held together until a late hour, and mutual u as the satisfaction with which we passed old friends and by-gone events in review, much to the edification of Miss Dodge, and of the gentlemen when they once more joined us. i 5 8 Chapter 14 WILLIAM S. HAMILTON KELLOGG S GROVE THE next morning, after a cheerful breakfast, at which we were joined by the Rev. Mr. Kent, 49 of Galena, we pre- pared for our journey. I had reconciled my husband to continuing our route towards Chicago, by assuring him that I felt as fresh and bright as when I first set out from home. There seemed some apprehension, how- ever, that we might have difficulty in "strik- ing the trail" to Hamilton's diggings™ our next point of destination. 49 Aratus Kent was a native of Connecticut who graduated from Yale in 1816, studied for the ministry in New York and at Princeton, and after several years of service in various missionary fields was sent to Galena in the spring of 1829. Here he organized the first Presbyterian Church in the mining region, and here continued until 1848. He died Nov. 8, 1869. — Ed. 50 Hamilton's Diggings was the establishment of William S. Hamilton on the site of present-day Wiota, Wis. Hamilton was a son of Alexander Hamilton, financier, and confidant of Washington. He came west in early manhood, settling at Wiota in 1827. He re- moved to California, following the discovery of gold in 1849, an d died of cholera at Sacramento prior to Oct. 18, 1850— Ed. 159 TOje "(Earlp ®ap" m tfte Movti)=Wit&t The directions we received were certainly obscure. We were to pursue a given trail for a certain number of miles, when we should come to a crossing into which we were to turn, taking an easterly direction — after a time, this would bring us to a deep trail lead- ing straight to ''Hamilton's." In this open country there are no landmarks. One eleva- tion is so exactly like another, that if you lose your trail there is almost as little hope of regaining it as of finding a pathway in the midst of the ocean.* The trail, it must be remembered, is not a broad highway, but a narrow path, deeply indented by the hoofs of the horses on which the Indians travel in single hie. So deeply is it sunk in the sod which covers the prairies, that it is difficult, sometimes, to distinguish it at a distance of a few rods. It was new ground to Mr. Kinzie, whose journeys from the Portage to Chicago had "hitherto been made in the direct route by Kosh-ko-nong. He therefore obliged Mr. Morrison to repeat the directions again and again, though Plante, our guide, swaggered and talked big, averring that "he knew every hill and stream, and point of woods from that spot to Chicago." *I speak, it will be understood, of things as they existed a quarter of a century ago. 1 60 mm. &. Hamilton— HellosB^ (©robe We had not proceeded many miles on our journey, however, before we discovered that Monsieur Plante was profoundly ignorant of the country, so that Mr. Kinzie was obliged to take the lead himself, and make his way as he was best able, according to the direc- tions he had received. Nothing, however, like the "cross trails" we had been prom- ised met our view, and the path on which we had set out diverged so much from what we knew to be the right direction, that we were at length compelled to abandon it alto- gether. We travelled the live-long day, barely making a halt at noon to bait our horses, and refresh ourselves with a luncheon. The ride was as gloomy and desolate as could well be imagined. A rolling prairie, unvaried by forest or stream — hillock rising after hillock, at every ascent of which we vainly hoped to see a distant fringe of "timber" But the same cheerless, unbounded prospect every- where met the eye, diversified only here and there by the oblong openings, like gigantic graves, which marked an unsuccessful search for indications of a lead mine. So great was our anxiety to recover our trail, for the weather was growing more cold, and the wind more sharp and piercing, that we were not tempted to turn from our course 161 {Kfje "earlp Bap" in tfje J?ortf)=ffleat even by the appearance, more than once, of a gaunt prairie-wolf, peering over the near- est rising-ground, and seeming to dare us to an encounter. The Frenchmen, it is true, would instinctively give a shout and spur on their horses, while the hounds, Kelda and Cora would rush to the chase, but the "bour- geois" soon called them back, with a warn- ing that we must attend strictly to the prose- cution of our journey. Just before sunset we crossed, with some difficulty, a muddy stream, which was bordered by a scanty belt of trees, making a tolerable encamping- ground; and of this we gladly availed our- selves, although we knew not whether it was near or remote from the place we were in search of. We had ridden at least fifty miles since leaving "Morrison's," yet I was sensible of very little fatigue; but there was a vague feeling of discomfort at the idea of being lost in this wild, cold region, altogether different from anything I had ever before experienced. The encouraging tones of my husband's voice, however, "Cheer up, wifie — we will find the trail to-morrow," served to dissipate all uneasiness. The exertions of the men soon made our "camp" comfortable, notwithstanding the difficulty of driving the tent-pins into the 162 * »,. :>- Mm. £>. Hamilton— Eelloss^ . Hamilton— &ellogg'£ (Strobe night's accommodation. As our pale, melan- choly-looking landlady and her fat baby were evidently the only specimens of the femi- nine gender about the establishment, it was hardly reasonable to suppose that any of the other cabins contained wherewithal to fur- nish us a comfortable lodging, and the one in which we were offered nothing of the sort to view, but two beds, uncurtained, extended against the farther wall. My doubts were after a time resolved, by observing the host- ess stretch a cord between the two, on which she hung some petticoats and extra gar- ments, by way of a partition, after which she invited us to occupy one of them. My only preparation was, to wrap my cloak around me and lie down with my face to the wall; but the good people were less ceremo- nious, for at the distance of scarcely two feet, we could not be mistaken in the sound of their garments being, not "laid aside," but whipped over the partition wall between us. Our waking thoughts, however, were only those of thankfulness for so comfortable a lodging after the trials and fatigues we had undergone; and even these were of short du- ration, for our eyes were soon closed in slumber. The next day's sun rose clear and bright. Refreshed and invigorated, we looked for- 169 tCfte "Carlp Sap" in tfje &Qxti)=Wit&t ward with pleasure to a recommencement of our journey, confident of meeting no more mishaps by the way. Mr. Hamilton kindly offered to accompany us to his next neigh- bor's, the trifling distance of twenty-five miles. From Kellogg's to Ogie's Ferry, on the Rock River, the road being much trav- elled, we should be in no danger, Mr. H. said, of again losing our way. The miner who owned the wife and baby, and who, consequently, was somewhat more humanized than his comrades, in taking leave of us "wished us well out of the coun- trv, and that we might never have occasion to return to it!" "I pity a body," said he, "when I see them making such an awful mistake as to come out this way, tor comfort never touched this western country." We found Mr. Hamilton as agreeable a companion as on the preceding day, but a most desperate rider. He galloped on at such a rate that had I not exchanged my pony for the fine, noble Jerry, I should have been in danger of being left behind. Well mounted as we all were, he some- times nearly distanced us. We were now among the branches of the Pickatonick, 52 52 The Pecatonica River, a tributary of Rock River. -Ed. I70 Him. £>. Hamilton— Eellogs^ (Srobe and the country had lost its prairie charac- ter, and become more rough and broken. We went dashing on, sometimes down ra- vines, sometimes through narrow passes, where, as I followed, I left fragments of my veil upon the projecting and interwoven branches. Once my hat became entangled, and had not my husband sprung to my res- cue, I must have shared the fate of Absalom, Jerry's ambition to keep his place in the race making it probable he would do as did the mule who was under the unfortunate prince. There was no halting upon the route, and as we kept the same pace until three o'clock in the afternoon, it was beyond a question that when we reached " Kellogg's," 53 we had travelled at least thirty miles. One of my greatest annoyances during the ride had been the behavior of the little beast Brunet. He had been hitherto used as a saddle-horse, 53 In 1825 Oliver W. Kellogg opened a trail from Peoria to Galena which shortly became noted as Kel- logg's Trail, the principal route of overland travel to and from the lead mines. Kellogg himself settled on the Trail at a burr oak grove in Kent Township, Stephen- son County, Illinois, and the place was subsequently known as Kellogg's Grove. In the spring of 1831 he removed from this location to Buffalo Grove, twelve miles north of Dixon, and one mile west of present-day Polo. Much of the fighting in the Black Hawk War of 1832 centered around Kellogg's Grove. — Ed. 171 {Wfje "earlp 3Bap" tn tfte Movtt)=Wiz&t and had been accustomed to a station in the file near the guide or leader. He did not relish being put in the background as a pack-horse, and accordingly, whenever we approached a stream, where the file broke up to permit each horseman to choose his own place of fording, it was invariably the case that just as I was reining Jerry into the wa- ter, Brun&t would come rushing past and throw himself into our very footsteps. Plunging, snorting, and splashing me with water, and sometimes even startling Jerry into a leap aside, he more than once brought me into imminent danger of being tossed into the stream. It was in vain that, after one or two such adventures, I learned to hold back and give the vexatious little ani- mal the precedence. His passion seemed to be to go into the water precisely at the mo- ment Jerry did, and I was obliged at last to make a bargain with young Roy to dismount and hold him at every stream until I had got safely across. "Kellogg's"* was a comfortable mansion, just within the verge of a pleasant "grove of timber," as a small forest is called by west- ern travellers. We found Mrs. Kellogg a very respectable-looking matron, who soon *It was at this spot that the unfortunate St. Vrain lost his life, during the Sauk war, in 1832. 172 JUm, d>. Hamilton— Kellogg'* (grobe informed us she was from the city of New York. She appeared proud and delighted to entertain Mr. Hamilton, for whose family, she took occasion to tell us, she had, in for- mer days, been in the habit of doing needle- work. The worthy woman provided us an excel- lent dinner, and afterwards installed me in a rocking-chair beside a large fire, with the "Life of Mrs. Fletcher" to entertain me, while the gentlemen explored the premises, visited Mr. Kellogg's "stock," and took a careful look at their own. We had intended to go to Dixon's the same afternoon, but the snow beginning again to fall, obliged us to content ourselves where we were. In the meantime, finding we were journey- ing to Chicago, Mr. Kellogg came to the de- termination to accompany us, having, as he said, some business to accomplish at that place, so Mrs. Kellogg busied herself in pre- paring him to set off with us the following morning. I pleaded hard to remain yet another day, as the following was Sunday, on which I objected to travel; but in view of the necessities of the case, the uncertainty of the weather, and the importance of getting as quickly as possible through this wild country, my objections were overruled, and I could only obtain a delay in starting until 173 Zf)t "Carlp ®ap" in fte J&ortf>Ble£rt so late in the afternoon, as would give us just time to ride the sixteen miles to "Dix- on's" before sunset. 54 No great time was required for Mr. Kel- logg's preparations. He would take, he said, only two days' provisions, for at his brother- in-law Dixon's we should get our supper and breakfast, and the route from there to Chi- cago could, he well knew, be accomplished in a day and a half. Although, according to this calculation, we had sufficient remaining of our stores to carry us to the end of our journey, yet Mr. Kinzie took the precaution of begging Mrs. Kellogg to bake us another bag of biscuits, in case of accidents, and he likewise sug- gested to Mr. K. the prudence of furnishing himself with something more than his lim- ited allowance; but the good man objected that he was unwilling to burden his horse more than was absolutely necessary, seeing that, at this season of the year, we were u Mrs. Kinzie's memory has evidently slipped at this point. From Kellogg's Grove to Dixon was about forty miles, instead of sixteen, and the journey could not possibly have been made in one late afternoon ride. Buffalo Grove, at which the travelers stopped, was twelve miles north of Dixon, and instead of being but four miles from Kellogg's, as Mrs. Kinzie's figures would imply, it was nearly thirty miles from that place. — Ed. 174 Mm. £>. ^amtltou— lleUogg'S orrt)4ies;t and grasped both bridle and mane with the utmost tenacity. After this we travelled on as rapidly as possible, in order to reach our place of destination before dark. Mr. Doghertv, a tall, bolt upright man, half Quaker, half Methodist, did his best to entertain me, by giving me a thorough sched- ule of his religious opinions, with the reasons from Scripture upon which they were based. He was a good deal of a perfectionist, and evidently looked upon himself with no small satisfaction, as a Living illustration of his favorite doctrine. 44 St. John says," this was the style of his discourse, "St. John says, 'He that is born of God, doth not commit sin.' Now, if I am born of God, I do not commit sin." I was too cold and too weary to argue the point, so I let him have it all his own way. I believe he must have thought me rather a dull companion; but at least, he gave me the credit of being a good listener. It was almost dark when we reached Law- ton's. 61 The Aux Plaines* was frozen, and 61 Lawton's was twelve miles southwest of Chicago on the Des Plaines at modern Riverside, where Bernard and David Laughton established themselves about the year 1828.— Ed. * Riviere Aux Plaines was the original French desig- nation, now changed to Desplaines, pronounced as in English. 204 belief the house was on the other side. By loud shouting, we brought out a man from the building, and he succeeded in cutting the ice, and bringing a canoe over to us; but not until it had become difficult to distinguish objects in the darkness. A very comfortable house was Lawton's, after we did reach it — carpeted, and with a warm stove — in fact, quite in civilized style. Mr. Weeks, the man who brought us across, was the major-domo, during the temporary absence of Mr. Lawton. Mrs. Lawton was a young woman, and not ill-looking. She complained bitterly of the loneliness of her condition, and having been " brought out there into the woods; which was a thing she had not expected, when she came from the East." We did not ask her with what expectations she had come to a wild, unsettled country; but we tried to com- fort her with the assurance that things would grow better in a few years. She said, ''she did not mean to wait for that. She should go back to her family in the East, if Mr. Lawton did not invite some of her young friends to come and stay with her, and make it agreeable." We could hardly realize, on rising the fol- lowing morning, that only twelve miles of prairie intervened between us and Chicago le Desire, as I could not but name it. 205 Zi)c "<£avlv Bap" in tije &ovtt)=l&t$t We could look across the extended plain, and on its farthest verge were visible two tall trees, which my husband pointed out to me as the planting of his own hand, when a boy. Already they had become so lottv as to serve as landmarks, and they were con- stantly in view as we travelled the beaten road. I was continually repeating to my- self, "There live the friends I am so longing to see! There will terminate all our trials and hardships!" A Mr. Wentworth joined us on the road, and of him we Inquired after the welfare of the family, from whom we had, for a long time, received no intelligence. When we reached Chicago, he took us to a little tav- ern at the forks of the river. This portion of the place was then called Wolf Point, from its having been the residence of an Indian named " Moa-way" or "the Wolf." 62 "Dear me," said the old landlady, at the little tavern, "what dreadful cold weather you must have had to travel in! Why, two days ago the river was all open here, and 62 Elijah Wentworth opened what was probably Chicago's second tavern in 1830. It stood at the junc- tion of the North and South Forks of the river, and from the circumstance that its signboard bore the representation of a wolf the locality acquired its name of Wolf Point.— Ed. 206 fteltef now it's frozen hard enough for folks to cross a-horseback!" Notwithstanding this assurance, my hus- band did not like to venture, so he deter- mined to leave his horses and proceed on foot, to the residence of his mother and sis- ter, a distance of about half a mile. We set out on our walk, which was first across the ice, then down the northern bank of the river. As we approached the house we were espied by Genevieve, a half-breed serv- ant of the family. She did not wait to salute us, but flew into the house crying, "Oh! Madame Kinzie, who do you think has come? Monsieur John and Madame John, all the way from Fort Winnebago on foot!" Soon we were in the arms of our dear, kind friends. A messenger was dispatched to "the garrison" for the remaining members of the family, and for that day at least^ I was the wonder and admiration of the whole circle, "for the dangers I had seen." 207 Cfjapter 17 CHICAGO IN' 183I FORT DEARBORN at that day con- sisted of the same buildings as at pres- ent. They were, of course, in a better state of preservation, though still consider- ably dilapidated. They had been erected in l8l6, under the supervision of Captain 1 [ezekiah Bradley, and there was a story current that, such was his patriotic regard tor the interests of the government, he obliged the soldiers to fashion wooden pins, instead of spikes and nails, to fasten the timbers of the buildings, and that he even called on the junior officers to aid in their construetion along with the soldiers, whose business it was. If this were true, the cap- tain must have labored under the delusion (excusable in one who had lived long on the frontier) that the government would thank its servants for any excess of economi- cal zeal. The fort was inclosed by high pickets, with bastions at the alternate angles. Large gates opened to the north and south, and there were small posterns here and there for 208 Cfjtcago in 1831 the accommodation of the inmates. The bank of the river which stretches to the west, now covered by the light-house build- ings, and inclosed by docks, was then occu- pied by the root-houses of the garrison. Be- yond the parade-ground which extended south of the pickets, were the company gar- dens, well filled with currant-bushes and young fruit-trees. The fort stood at what might naturally be supposed to be the mouth of the river, yet it was not so, for in those days the latter took a turn, sweeping round the promontory on which the fort was built, towards the south, and joined the lake about half a mile below; so that these buildings, in fact, stood on the right bank of the river, the left being formed by a long spit of land extending from the northern shore, of which it formed a part. After the cutting through of this por- tion of the left bank in 1833 by the United States Engineers employed to construct a harbor at this point, and the throwing out of the piers, the water overflowed this long tongue of land, and continually encroaching on the southern bank, robbed it of many valuable acres; while, by the same action of the vast body of the lake, an accretion was constantly taking place on the north of the harbor. 209 Wf)t "Catty 2@ap" in tfje j£ortf)=»Ie*t The residence of Jean Baptiste Beaubien 63 stood at this period between the gardens and the river-bank, and still further south was a rickety tenement, built many years before by Mr. John Dean, the sutler of the post. A short time after the commencement of the growth of Chicago, the foundations of this building were undermined by the gradual encroachment of the lake, and it tumbled backward down the bank, where it long lay, a melancholy spectacle. On the northern bank of the river, directly facing the fort, was the family mansion of my husband. It was a long, low building, with a piazza extending along its front, a range of four or five rooms. A broad green space was inclosed between it and the river, and shaded by a row of Lombardy poplars. Two immense cotton-wood trees stood in the rear of the building, one of which still 63 Jean Baptiste Beaubien, prominent at Chicago for a generation following the War of 1812, belonged to the ancient Beaubien family of Detroit. He early engaged in the Indian trade, and lived with a native woman, by whom he had at least two sons. He subsequently married Josette Laframboise, who had been an inmate of John Kinzie's household at the time of the massacre in 1 81 2. Beaubien's efforts in later years to homestead the Fort Dearborn reservation produced a legal conflict which is famous in the annals of early Chicago. He died at Naperville in January, 1863, leaving a numerous family of descendants. — Ed. 2IO Cfjtcago in 1831 remains as an ancient landmark. A fine, well-cultivated garden extended to the north of the dwelling, and surrounding it were various buildings appertaining to the estab- lishment — dairy, bake-house, lodging-house for the Frenchmen, and stables. A vast range of sand-hills, covered with stunted cedars, pines, and dwarf-willow trees, intervened between the house and the lake, which was, at this time, not more than thirty rods distant. Proceeding from this point, along the northern bank of the river, we came first to the Agency House, "Cobweb Castle," as it had been denominated while long the resi- dence of a bachelor, and the sobriquet ad- hered to it ever after. It stood at what is now the south-west corner of Wolcott 64 and N. Water streets. Many will still remember it, a substantial, compact little building of logs hewed and squared, with a centre, two wings, and, strictly speaking, two tails, since, when there was found no more room for ad- ditions at the sides, they were placed in the rear, whereon a vacant spot could be found. These appendages did not mar the sym- metry of the whole, as viewed from the front, but when, in the process of the town's improvement, a street was maliciously ei Modern State Street. — Ed. 211 ©fje "Carl? JSap" in fte i^ortf)=ffle*t opened directly in the rear of the building, the whole establishment, with its comical little adjuncts, was a constant source of amusement to the passers-by. No matter. There were pleasant, happy hours passed under its odd-shaped roof, as many of Chi- cago's early settlers can testify. Around the Agency House were grouped a collection of log-buildings, the residences of the different persons in the employ of Govern- ment, appertaining to that establishment — blacksmith, striker, and laborers. These were for the most part Canadians or half-breeds, with occasionally a stray Yankee, to set all things going by his activity and enterprise. There was still another house on the north side of the river, built by a former resident of the name of Miller, but he had removed to "Riviere du Chemin," or Trail Creek, which about this time began to be called "Michi- gan City."* This house, which stood near the forks of the river, was at this time vacant. 65 *I can now recall a petition that was circulated at the garrison about this period, for "building a brigg over Michigan City." By altering the orthography, it was found to mean, not the stupendous undertaking it would seem to imply, but simply "building a bridge over at Michigan City." An accommodation much needed by travellers at that day. 65 Samuel Miller was the husband of Elizabeth Kinzie, half-sister of Mrs. Kinzie's husband. The Millers had 212 Cfu'cago in 1831 There was no house on the southern bank of the river, between the fort and "The Point," as the forks of the river were then called. The land was a low wet prairie, scarcely affording good walking in the dry- est summer weather, while at other seasons it was absolutely impassable. A muddy streamlet, or as it is called in this country, a slew* after winding around from about the present site of the Tremont House, 66 fell into the river at the foot of State street, f At the point, on the south side, stood a house just completed by Mark Beaubien, not removed to Michigan City, but were living in Chi- cago, where Mrs. Miller died in July, 1832. Miller was a reputable citizen, an inn-keeper, and an early com- missioner of Cook County. — Ed. * The proper orthography of this word is undoubtedly slough, as it invariably indicates something like that which Christian fell into in flying from the City of Destruction. I spell it, however, as it is pronounced. 66 The first Tremont House was built about the year 1833 at the northwest corner of Lake and Dearborn streets. In 1840 its successor was erected on the south- east corner of the same streets. Two more Tremont houses followed on the same site, one of brick in 1850 and another of stone following the Chicago Fire of 1871. —Ed. f A gentleman who visited Chicago at that day, thus speaks of it: "I passed over the ground from the fort to the point, on horseback. I was up to my stirrups in water the whole distance. I would not have given six- pence an acre for the whole of it." 213 ®J)e "earl? Bap" in tfje J|orrt)=»Je£t sen. 67 It was a pretentious white two-story building, with bright blue wooden shutters, the admiration of all the little circle at Wolf Point. Here a canoe ferry was kept to trans- port people across the south branch of the river. Facing down the river from the west was, first a small tavern kept by Mr. Went- worth, familiarly known as "Old Geese," not from any want of shrewdness on his part, but in compliment to one of his own cant expressions. Near him were two or three log-cabins occupied by Robinson, 68 the Pottowattamie chief, and some of his wife's 67 Mark Beaubien was a younger brother of Jean Baptiste Beaubien. He was born at Detroit about the year 1794. He married at Monroe, in 18 17, Monica Nadeau, and in 1826 removed to Chicago. Here he opened one of the earliest taverns, reared an enor- mous family, and acquired great popularity among the pioneer generation of Chicagoans for his genial tem- perament. He died at Kankakee, Illinois, April 16, 1881. His daughter, Emily, who was born at Monroe, July 28, 1825, and brought to Chicago by her parents a year later, died here about the year 1917. She was a refined and charming woman, and possessed a remarkable store of memories of the scenes of her early years. — Ed. 68 Alexander Robinson, who long figured as a chief of the Chicago Potawatomi, was a half-breed, who pre- sumably took the name of his father. He died at his home on the Des Plaines April 22, 1872, at the reputed age of 1 10 years. It was Robinson who in 1 8 1 2 conveyed Captain Nathan Heald and Mrs. Heald from St. Joseph 214 Cfjtcago in 1831 connexions. Billy Caldwell, 69 the Sau-ga- nash, too, resided here occasionally, with his wife, who was a daughter of Nee-scot-nee- meg, one of the most famous chiefs of the nation. A little remote from these residences was a small square log building, originally designed for a school-house, but occasionally to Mackinac, thereby making possible their escape from Indian captivity. In September, 1826, he married Catherine Chevalier. Although his tribe went west a few years later, Robinson remained at his home near Chi- cago, where he reared a large family of children. — Ed. 69 Billy Caldwell, chief of the Chicago Potawatomi, was the son of Capt. William Caldwell of the British Indian Department at Detroit and Amherstburg, who was the son of Sir James Caldwell of Castle Caldwell, Fermangh County, Ireland. Caldwell was one of the ablest British leaders in the West during the Revolu- tion, victor over Colonel Crawford's army, and over the Kentuckians at the Blue Licks. He married Susanne Baby of Detroit, and became a founder of Amherst- burg, where his descendants are still numerous and prominent. Billy was born in the Indian country of a native mother, but was reared and educated by his father. He was a staunch adherent of the British cause in the War of 1812, and for several years thereafter an officer of the Indian Department at Amherstburg. He then joined his mother's people at Chicago, assumed the role of chief, and was identified with them to the end of his life. He died near Council Bluffs, Iowa, in September, 1841. He was a man of real ability, the un- fortunate victim of the circumstances of his birth and environment. He deserves a more adequate biography than any that has yet been written. — Ed. 215 tSfje "earl? ©ap" in tfje J|ortf)=JHesrt used as a place of worship whenever any itinerant minister presented himself. The family of Clybourn had, previous to this time, established themselves near their present residence on the North Branch — they called their place New Virginia. Four miles up the South Branch was an old build- ing which was at that time an object of great interest as having been the theatre of some stirring events during the troubles of 1812.* It was denominated Lee's Place, or Hard- scrabble. Here lived, at this time, a settler named Heacock. 70 Owing to the badness of the roads a greater part of the year, the usual mode of communication between the fort and "The Point" was by a boat rowed up the river, or by a canoe paddled by some skilful hand. By the latter means, too, an intercourse was kept up between the residents of the fort and the Agency House. There were, at this time, two companies of soldiers in the garrison, but of the officers one, Lieutenant Furman, had died the au- tumn previous, and several of the others *See Narrative of the Massacre, p. 233. 70 Russell E. Heacock was a native of Litchfield, Conn., who came west to Illinois and acquired the distinction of being Chicago's first lawyer. He died of cholera in 1849. — Ed. 2l6 Cfwago m 1831 were away on furlough. In the absence of Major Fowle and Capt. Scott, the command devolved on Lieut. Hunter. 71 Besides him, there were Lieuts. Engle and Foster — the latter unmarried. Dr. Finley, the post sur- geon, was also absent, and his place was supplied by Dr. Harmon, 72 a gentleman from Vermont. My husband's mother, two sisters, and brother resided at the Agency House — the family residence near the lake being occupied by J. N. Bailey, the postmaster. In the Dean House lived a Mr. and Mrs. Forbes, 73 who kept a school. Gholson Kerch- eval had a small trading establishment in one of the log buildings at "Wolf Point," and 71 Lieutenant David Hunter graduated from West Point in 1822. He spent his entire life in the army rising to the rank of major general in the Civil War. In 1829 he married at Chicago Maria Indiana, younger daughter of John and Eleanor Kinzie. — Ed. 72 Dr. Elijah Harmon came to Chicago in the spring of 1830, and ranks as the first civilian physician of the city. In 1834 he migrated to Texas, but he retained property in Chicago and frequently visited here, until his death in 1869. — Ed. 73 Stephen Forbes was a Vermonter, who came to Chicago in 1829. He conducted one of the city's early schools, and in 1832 became the first sheriff of Cook County. He died Feb. 11, 1879. Mrs. Forbes was a sister of the wife of Bernard Laughton, the Indian trader at Riverside. — Ed. 217 QCfje "€arlp 3Bap" in tfje MavfcWLt&t John S. C. Hogan 74 superintended the sut- ler's store in the garrison. There was also a Mr. See lately come into the country, living at the Point, who some- times held forth in the little school-house on a Sunday, less to the edification of his hear- ers than to the unmerciful slaughter of the "King's English." I think this enumeration comprises all the white inhabitants of Chicago, at a period less than a quarter of a century ago. To many who may read these pages the fore- going particulars will, doubtless, appear un- interesting. But to those who visit Chicago, and still more, to those who come to make it their home, it may be not without interest to look back to its first beginnings; to con- template the almost magical change which a few years have wrought; and from the past to augur the marvellous prosperity of the future. 74 John S. C. Hogan was born in New York City about the year 1804. His father having died, he was adopted by Mrs. Coates, of Detroit, who gave him the name of her deceased son and raised him to manhood. He was sent to Chicago as local agent and clerk of Oliver New- berry of Detroit, about 1829. He married the daughter of Jonathan Bailey, Chicago's first postmaster, and him- self became the second postmaster of the city. Some years later he removed to Boonville, Mo., and later to St. Louis. He died at Boonville, Dec. 2, 1868. — Ed. 218 Chicago in 1831 The origin of the name Chicago is a sub- ject of discussion, some of the Indians de- riving it from the fitch or polecat, others from the wild onion with which the woods formerly abounded; but all agree that the place received its name from an old chief, who was drowned in the stream in former times. That this event, although so care- fully preserved by tradition, must have oc- curred in a very remote period, is evident from an old French manuscript brought by Gen. Cass from France. In this paper, which purports to be a letter from M. de Ligney, at Green Bay, to M. de Siette, among the Illinois, dated as early as 1726, the place is designated as " Chicagoux." This orthography is also found in old family letters of the beginning of the present cen- tury. 75 In giving the early history of Chicago, the Indians say, with great simplicity, "the 75 As early as 1687 Joutel, companion of La Salle, re- corded the observation that Chicago took its name from the wild onion which grew in the vicinity. The present writer believes that the real meaning of the word was something great or powerful. Chief Chicagou was an historical figure in Missouri in the first half of the eight- eenth century, who on one occasion was taken to France and became a temporary sensation at the royal court. There is no reason for supposing any connection between him and the place name of the modern city. — Ed. 219 tEfje "<£arlp Bap" in tfje J?ortf)=We£t first white man who settled here was a negro." This was Jean Baptiste Point-au-Sable, 76 a native of St. Domingo, who, about the year 1796, found his way to this remote re- gion, and commenced a life among the In- dians. There is usually a strong affection between these two races, and Jean Baptiste imposed upon his new friends by making them believe that he had been a "great chief" among the whites. Perhaps he was disgusted at not being elected to a similar dignity by the Pottowattamies, for he quit- ted this vicinity, and finally terminated his days at Peoria, under the roof of his friend "Glamorgan," another St. Domingo negro, who had obtained large Spanish grants in St. Louis and its environs, and who, at one 76 Jean Baptiste Point Sable was a mixed-blood (probably a mulatto), who described himself as a "free negro." Although his parentage is not known, there is considerable reason for believing that he belonged, on his father's side, to the family of Dandonneau dit du Sable, one of the most noted in the annals of New France. He was engaged in trade for many years in the region around Lake Michigan, from about 1784 to 1800 at Chicago, where he developed a considerable estate. His realty eventually became the property of John Kinzie. Point Sable had an Indian wife and at least two children at Chicago. His later years were passed in the vicinity of St. Louis. He died about the year 18 15. — Ed. 220 Cfjttago in 1831 time, was in the enjoyment of an extensive landed estate. 77 Point-au-Sable had made some improve- ments at Chicago, which were taken posses- sion of by a Frenchman named Le Mai, who commenced trading with the Indians. After a few years Le Mai's establishment was pur- chased by John Kinzie, Esq., who at that time resided at Bertrand,or Pare aux V aches > as it was then called, near Niles, in Michi- gan. As this gentleman was, for nearly twenty years, with the exception of the mili- tary, the only white inhabitant of Northern Illinois, some particulars of his early life may not be uninteresting. He was born in Quebec (L. C.) in 1763. His mother had been previously married to a gentleman of the name of Haliburton. The only daughter of this marriage was the mother of Gen. Fleming and Nicholas Low, Esq., of New York. She is described as a 77 Jacques Clamorgan of St. Louis, far from being a San Domingo negro, was one of the most enterprising merchants of Spanish Louisiana. He stood high in the favor of the government, and years before the exploring expedition of Lewis and Clark he had taken a leading part in exploring the upper Missouri and in combating the British traders in that region. Upon the transfer of Louisiana to American rule, he became one of the first judges of the Court of Common Pleas at St. Louis. -Ed. 221 GDfje "€arlp ®ap" in tfje J?orrt)=Slle£t lady of remarkable beauty and accomplish- ments. Mr. Kinzie was the only child of the second marriage. His father died in his in- fancy, and his mother married a third time a Mr. Forsyth, after which they removed to the city of New York. At the age of ten or eleven years he was placed at school with two of his half-brothers at Williamsburg, L. I. A negro servant was sent from the city every Saturday, to bring the children home, to remain until the fol- lowing Monday morning. Upon one occa- sion, when the messenger arrived at the school he found all things in commotion. Johnny Kinzie was missing! Search was made in all directions; every place was ran- sacked. It was all in vain; no Johnny Kinzie could be found. The heavy tidings were carried home to his mother. By some it was supposed the lad was drowned; by others that he had strayed away, and would return. Weeks passed by, and months, and he was at length given up and mourned as lost. In the mean- time the boy was fulfilling a determination he had long formed, to visit his native city of Quebec, and make his way in life for himself. He had by some means succeeded in cross- ing from Williamsburg to the city of New York, and finding at one of the docks on the 222 Cfjtcago in 1831 North River a sloop bound for Albany, he took passage on board of her. While on his way up the river, he was noticed by a gentle- man, who, taking an interest in the little lonely passenger, questioned him about his business. "He was going to Quebec, where he had some friends." "Had he the means to carry him there?" "Not much, but he thought he could get along." It happened, fortunately, that the gentle- man himself was going to Quebec. He took the boy under his care, paid his expenses the whole distance, and finally parted with him in the streets of the city, where he was, in truth, a stranger. He wandered about for a time, looking into various "stores" and workshops. At length, on entering the shop of a silversmith, he was satisfied with the expression he read in the countenance of the master, and he in- quired if he wanted an apprentice. "What, you, my little fellow! What can you do?" "Anything you can teach me." "Well, we will make a trial and see." The trial was satisfactory. He remained in the family of his kind friend for more than three years, when his parents, who, in 223 W$t "<£arlp ®ap" in tfte &ovtf)=Wlt&t removing to Detroit, had necessarily re- turned to Canada, discovered his place of abode, and he was restored to them. There were five younger half-brothers of the name of Forsyth. In the old family Bi- ble, we find the following touching record of an event that occurred after the family had removed to Detroit. "George Forsyth was lost in the woods 6th August, 1775, when Henry Hays and Mark Stirling ran away and left him. The remains of George Forsyth were found by an Indian the 2d of October, 1776, close by the Prairie Ronde." It seems a singular fatality that the un- happy mother should have been twice called to suffer a similar affliction — the loss of a child in a manner worse than death, inas- much as it left room for all the horrors that imagination can suggest. The particulars of the loss of this little brother were these. As he came from school one evening, he met the colored servant boy on horseback, going to the common for the cows. The school-house stood quite near the old fort, and all beyond that, all that now lies west of Fort street, was a wild, uncultivated tract called "The Common." The child begged of the servant to take him up and give him a ride, but the other refused, bidding him return home at 224 Cfjtcago fa 1831 once. He was accompanied by two other boys, somewhat older, and together they fol- lowed the negro for some distance, hoping to prevail upon him to give them a ride. As it grew dark, the two older boys turned back, but the other kept on. When the negro re- turned he had not again seen the child, nor were any tidings ever received of him, not- withstanding the diligent search made by the whole little community, until, as related in the record, his remains were found the following year by an Indian. There was nothing to identify them, except the auburn curls of his hair, and the little boots he had worn. He must have perished very shortly after having lost his way, for the Prairie Ronde was too near the settlement to have prevented his hearing the calls and sounding horns of those in search of him. Mr. Kinzie's enterprising and adventurous disposition led him, as he grew older, to live much on the frontier. He early entered into the Indian trade, and had establishments at Sandusky and Maumee, and afterwards pushed further west, about the year 1800, to St. Joseph's. In this year he married Mrs. McKillip, the widow of a British officer, and in 1804 came to make his home at Chicago. It was in this year that the first fort was built. 225 ®fje "€arlj> ®ap" in ti)t Moxti)=Wlt&t By degrees more remote trading-posts were established by him, all contributing to the parent one at Chicago; at Milwaukee with the Meenomonees; at Rock River with the Winnebagoes and the Pottowattamies; on the Illinois River and Kankakee with the Pottowattamies of the Prairies, and with the Kickapoos in what was called "Le Large," being the widely extended district after- wards erected into Sangamon County. Each trading-post had its superintendent, and its complement of engages — its train of pack-horses and its equipment of boats and canoes. From most of the stations the " furs and peltries" were brought to Chicago on pack-horses, and the goods necessary for the trade were transported in return by the same method. The vessels which came in the spring and fall (seldom more than two or three annu- ally), to bring the supplies and goods for the trade, took the furs that were already col- lected to Mackinac, the depot of the South- West and American Fur Companies. At other seasons they were sent to that place in boats, coasting around the lake. Of the Canadian voyageurs or engages, a race that has now so nearly passed away, some notice may very properly here be given. 226 Cfjtcago in 1831 They were unlike any other class of men. Like the poet, they seemed born to their vo- cation. Sturdy, enduring, ingenious and light-hearted, they possessed a spirit capable of adapting itself to any emergency. No difficulties baffled, no hardships discouraged them; while their affectionate nature led them to form attachments of the warmest character to their "bourgeois," or master, as well as to the native inhabitants, among whom their engagements carried them. Montreal, or according to their own pro- nunciation, Marrialle, was their depot. It was at that place that the agents commis- sioned to make up the quota for the different companies and traders found the material for their selections. The terms of engagement were usually from four to six hundred livres (ancient Quebec currency) per annum as wages, with rations of one quart of lyed corn, and two ounces of tallow per diem, or " its equivalent in whatever sort of food is to be found in the Indian country." Instances have been known of their submitting cheerfully to fare upon fresh fish and maple sugar for a whole winter, when cut off from other supplies. It was a common saying, "Keep an en- gage to his corn and tallow, he will serve you well — give him pork and bread, and he soon 227 Cfje "€adp ©aj>" in tfje Mox&WLz&t gets beyond your management." They re- gard the terms of their engagement as bind- ing to the letter. An old trader, M. Berthe- let, engaged a crew at Montreal. The terms of agreement were, that they should eat when their bourgeois did, and what he did. It was a piece of fun on the part of the old gentleman, but the simple Canadians be- lieved it to be a signal instance of good luck that had provided them such luxurious pros- pects. The bourgeois stuffed his pockets with crackers, and when sure of being quite unobserved, would slily eat one. Pipe after pipe passed — the men grew hungry, but ob- serving that there were no preparations of a meal for the bourgeois, they bore their fast without complaining. At length the matter became too serious — they could stand it no longer. In their dis- tress they begged off from the bargain, and gladly compounded to take the customary rations, instead of the dainty fare they had been promising themselves with their master. On arriving at Mackinac, which was the entrepot of the Fur Trade, a small propor- tion of the voyageur's wages was advanced him, to furnish his winter's outfit, his pipes and tobacco, his needles and thread, some pieces of bright-colored ribbons, and red and yellow gartering (quality binding), with 228 Cfjtcago tn 1831 which to purchase their little necessaries from the Indians. To these, if his destina- tion were Lake Superior, or a post far to the north, where such articles could not be read- ily obtained, were added one or two smoked deer-skins for moccasins. Thus equipped, he entered upon his three years' service, to toil by day, and laugh, joke, sing, and tell stories when the evening hour brought rest and liberty. There was not wanting here and there an instance of obstinate adherence to the ex- act letter of the agreement in regard to the nature of employment, although, as a general thing, the engage held himself ready to fulfil the behests of his bourgeois, as faithfully as ever did vassal those of his chief. A story is told of M. St. Jean, a trader on the Upper Mississippi, who upon a certain occasion ordered one of his Frenchmen to accompany a party to the forest to chop wood. The man refused. "He was not hired," he said, "to chop wood." "Ah! for what then were you hired?" "To steer a boat." "Very well; steer a boat, then, since you prefer it." It was mid-winter. The recusant was marched to the river-side, and placed in 229 fcfje "<£arlp Bap" in ttje Movti)=Wlt&t the stern of the boat, which lay fastened in the ice. After serving a couple of hours at his legit- imate employment, with the thermometer below zero, he was quite content to take his place with the chopping-party, and never again thought it good policy to choose work for himselt. 1 here is an aristocracy in the vovagcur service which is quite amusing. The engage- ment is usually made for three years. The engage of the first year, who is called a tl mangeur-de-lard" or pork-eater, is looked down upon with the most sovereign con- tempt by an "hivernant" or one who has already passed a winter in the country. He will not only not associate with him, hut if invited by him to join him in a friendly glass, he will make some excuse tor declin- ing. The most inveterate drunkard, while tortured by a longing to partake his favor- ite indulgence, will yet never suffer himself to be enticed into an infringement of this custom. After the first winter, the mangcur-de-lard rises from his freshman class, and takes his place where he can in turn lord it over all new-comers. Another peculiarity of the class is their fancy for transforming the names of their 230 Cfttcago tn 1831 bourgeois into something funny, which re- sembles it in sound. Thus Kinzie would be called by one li Quinze nez" (fifteen noses), by another "Singe" (monkeyfied). Mr. Ker- cheval was denominated Mons. Courtcheval (short horse), the Judge of Probate, " le Juge Trop-bete" (too foolish), &c. &c. The fol- lowing is an instance in point. Mr. Shaw, one of the agents of the North- west Fur Company, had passed many years on the frontier, and was by the voyageurs called Monsieur Le Chat.* On quitting the Indian country he married a Canadian lady and became the father of several children. Some years after his return to Canada, his old foreman, named Louis la Liberte, went to Montreal to spend the winter. He had heard of his old bourgeois* marriage, and was anxious to see him. Mr. Shaw was walking in the Champ de Mars with a couple of officers when La Li- berte espied him. He immediately ran up, and seizing him by both hands, accosted him — "Ah! mon cher Mons. le Chat; comment vous portez vous?" " Tres bien, Louizon." " Et comment se porte Madame la Chatte?" (How is the mother cat?) * Mr. Cat. 231 ®fje "earl? ®ap" in tfje Moxti)=Witxt " Bien, bien, Louizon; elle est tres bien." (She is very well.) " ' Et tous les petits ChatonsV (And all the kittens.) This was too much for Mr. Shaw. He an- swered shortly that the kittens were all well, and bidding him call at his house, turned away with his military friends, leaving poor Louizon quite astonished at the abruptness of his departure. Cut off, in the manner described, from the world at large, with no society but the mili- tary, thus lived the family of Mr. Kinzie, in great contentment, and in the enjoyment of all the comforts, together with most of the luxuries of life. The Indians reciprocated the friendship that was shown them, and formed for them an attachment of no ordinary strength, as was manifested during the scenes of the year 1812, eight years after Mr. Kinzie came to live among them. Some of the most prominent events of that year are recorded in the following Narrative. 232 Chapter 18 MASSACRE AT CHICAGO* IT was the evening of the yth April, 1812. The children of Mr. Kinzie were dancing before the fire to the music of their fa- ther's violin. The tea-table was spread, and they were awaiting the return of their mother, who had gone to visit a sick neigh- bor about a quarter of a mile up the river. Suddenly their sports were interrupted. The door was thrown open, and Mrs. Kinzie rushed in, pale with terror and scarcely able to articulate, "The Indians! the Indians!" "The Indians? What? Where?" eagerly demanded they all. "Up at Lee's Place, killing and scalping!" With difficulty Mrs. Kinzie composed herself sufficiently to give the information, *This Narrative is substantially the same as that published in pamphlet form, in 1836. 78 It was trans- ferred with little variation to Brown's "History of Illinois," and to a work called "Western Annals." It was likewise made, by Major Richardson, the basis of his two tales, "Hardscrabble," and "Wau-nan-gee." 78 The pamphlet was published in 1844, instead of 1836. The killings here described occurred on the evening of April 6. — Ed. 133 W$t "Carlp Bap" in tfje MQxth-Wlt&t ''That while she was up at Burns', a man and a boy were seen running down with all speed on the opposite side of the river; that they had called across to give notice to Burns' family to save themselves, for the Indians were at Lee's Place, from which they had just made their escape. Having given this terrifying news, they had made all speed for the fort, which was on the same side of the river that they then were. All was now consternation and dismay. The family were hurried into two old pi- rogues, that were moored near the house, and paddled with all possible haste across the river to take refuge in the fort. All that the man and boy who had made their escape were able to tell, was soon known; but in order to render their story more intelligible, it is necessary to describe the scene of action. Lee's Place, since known by the name of Hardscrabble, was a farm intersected by the Chicago River, about four miles from its mouth. The farm-house stood on the west- ern bank of the south branch of this river. On the same side of the main stream, but quite near its junction with Lake Michigan, stood (as has already been described) the dwelling-house and trading establishment of Mr. Kinzie. 234 iWas&acre at Cfncago The fort was situated on the southern bank, directly opposite this mansion — the river, and a few rods of sloping green turf on either side, being all that intervened be- tween them. The fort was differently constructed from the one erected on the same site in 1816. It had two block-houses on the southern side, and on the northern a sally-port, or subter- ranean passage from the parade ground to the river. This was designed either to facili- tate escape, in case of an emergency, or as a means of supplying the garrison with water during a siege. The officers in the fort at this period were Capt. Heald, the commanding officer, Lieut. Helm, the son-in-law of Mr. Kinzie, and Ensign Ronan — the two last were very young men — and the surgeon, Dr. Van Voorhees. 79 79 Captain Xathan Heald was the second, and last, commandant of the first Fort Dearborn, having suc- ceeded Captain John Whistler in 1 8 10. Lieutenant Linai T. Helm was transferred from Detroit to Fort Dearborn in the spring of 181 1. His wife was Margaret McKillip, the daughter of Mrs. Kinzie by her first marriage. George Ronan came direct from West Point to Fort Dearborn in the spring of 181 1; Dr. Isaac Van Voorhis came from Fishkifi, New York, about the same time to assume the duty of post surgeon. For fuller accounts of all these men see M. M. Quaife, Chicago and the Old Northwest, 16J3-1835, passim, — Ed. 235 W$t "Carl? ®ap" in fte i£ortt)=MJeat The command numbered about seventy- five men; very few of whom were effective. A constant and friendly intercourse had been maintained between these troops and the Indians. It is true that the principal men of the Pottowattamie nation, like those of most other tribes, went yearly to Fort Maiden, in Canada, to receive a large amount of presents, with which the British Govern- ment had, for many years, been in the habit of purchasing their alliance; and it was well known that many of the Pottowattamies, as well as YYinnebagoes, had been engaged with the Ottawas and Shawnees at the battle of Tippecanoe, the preceding autumn; yet, as the principal chiefs of all the bands in the neighborhood appeared to be on the most amicable terms with the Americans, no in- terruption of their harmony was at any time anticipated. After the 15th August, however, many circumstances were recollected that might have opened the eyes of the whites, had they not been lulled in a fatal security. One instance in particular may be men- tioned. In the spring preceding the destruction of the fort, two Indians of the Calumet band came to the fort on a visit to the Command- ing Officer. As they passed through the 236 jftlasteacre at Cfjtcago quarters, they saw Mrs. Heald and Mrs. Helm playing at battledoor. Turning to the interpreter, one of them, Nau-non-gee, remarked: "The white chiefs' wives are amusing themselves very much; it will not be long before they are hoeing in our cornfields!" This was considered at the time an idle threat, or at most, an ebullition of jealous feeling at the contrast between the situation of their own women and that of the "white chiefs' wives." Some months after, how bit- terly was it remembered! The farm at Lee's Place was occupied by a Mr. White, and three persons employed by him in the care of the farm. 80 In the afternoon of the day on which our narrative commences, a party of ten or twelve Indians, dressed and painted, arrived 80 At the moment of the killings the occupants of the farm were Liberty White, a native of New Hampshire who had come west to Detroit with Aaron Greeley in 1806, and some time thereafter had found his way to Chicago; John Kelso, a soldier of the garrison; Jean B. Cardin, a Canadian who had but recently come to Chicago; and a boy, whom Mrs. Kinzie identifies as the son of Lee. Kelso and the boy, as related by our author, escaped to the fort. White and Cardin were slain by the marauders. Kelso and the boy were slain in the battle of Aug. 15. — Ed. 237 W$t "€arlp ®ap" in tfje Jlorrtj-Mest at the house, and according to the custom among savages, entered and seated them- selves without ceremony. Something in their appearance and man- ner excited the suspicions of one of the fam- ily, a Frenchman, who remarked, "I do not like the appearance of these Indians — they are none of our folks. I know by their dress and paint that they are not Pottowatta- mies." Another of the family, a discharged sol- dier, then said to the boy who was present, "If that is the case, we had better get away from them if we can. Say nothing; but do as you see me do." As the afternoon was far advanced, the soldier walked leisurely towards the canoes, of which there were two tied near the bank. Some of the Indians inquired where he was going. He pointed to the cattle which were standing among the haystacks on the oppo- site bank; and made signs that they must go and fodder them, and then they should return and get their supper. He got into one canoe, and the boy into the other. The stream was narrow, and they were soon across. When they had gained the opposite side, they pulled some hay for the cattle — made a show of collecting them — and when they had gradually made a circuit, 238 illas&acre at Cfjtcago so that their movements were concealed by the haystacks, they took to the woods, which were close at hand, and made for the fort. They had run about a quarter of a mile, when they heard the discharge of two guns successively, which they supposed to have been levelled at the companions they had left behind. They stopped not nor stayed until they arrived opposite Burn's,* where, as before related, they called across to advertise the family of their danger, and then hastened on to the fort. It now occurred to those who had se- cured their own safety, that the family of Burns was at this moment exposed to the most imminent peril. The question was, who would hazard his own life to bring them to a place of safety? A gallant young officer, Ensign Ronan, volunteered, with a party of five or six soldiers, to go to their rescue. They ascended the river in a scow, took the mother, with her infant of scarcely a day old, upon her bed to the boat, in which they carefully conveyed her and the other mem- bers of the family to the fort. * Burns' house stood near the spot where the Agency building, or "Cobweb Castle," was afterwards erected. 239 Wi)t "earl? Bap" in tfje MoxfaWlz&t A party of soldiers, consisting of a corporal and six men, had that afternoon obtained leave to go up the river to fish. They had not returned when the fugi- tives from Lee's Place arrived at the fort, and fearing that they might encounter the Indians, the commanding officer ordered a cannon to be fired, to warn them of danger. They were at the time about two miles above Lee's Place. Hearing the signal, they took the hint, put out their torches (for it was now night), and dropped down the river toward the garrison, as silently as possible. It will be remembered that the unsettled state of the country since the battle of Tip- pecanoe, the preceding November, had ren- dered every man vigilant, and the slightest alarm was an admonition to beware of "the Indians." When the fishing-party reached Lee's Place, it was proposed to stop and warn the inmates to be upon their guard, as the signal from the fort indicated danger of some kind. All was still as death around the house. They groped their way along, and as the corporal jumped over the small enclosure, he placed his hand upon the dead body of a man. By the sense of touch he soon ascer- tained that the head was without a scalp, 240 jfttasteacre at Cfjtcago and otherwise mutilated. The faithful dog of the murdered man stood guarding the lifeless remains of his master. The tale was now told. They retreated to their canoes and reached the fort unmolested about eleven o'clock at night. The next morning a party of the citizens and soldiers volunteered to go to Lee's Place, to learn further the fate of its occupants. The body of Mr. White was found pierced by two balls, and with eleven stabs in the breast. The Frenchman, as already described, lay dead, with his dog still beside him. Their bodies were brought to the fort and buried in its immediate vicinity. It was subsequently ascertained, from traders out in the Indian country, that the perpetrators of this bloody deed were a party of Winnebagoes, who had come into this neighbourhood to "take some white scalps." Their plan had been, to proceed down the river from Lee's Place, and kill every white man without the walls of the fort. Hearing, however, the report of the cannon, and not knowing what it portended, they thought it best to remain satisfied with this one exploit, and forthwith retreated to their homes on Rock River. The inhabitants outside the fort, consist- ing of a few discharged soldiers and some 241 Cfte "(Earip Bap" in tfje jSortf)=We*t families of half-breeds, now entrenched them- selves in the Agency House. This stood on the esplanade west of the fort, between the pickets and the river, and distant about twenty rods from the former.* It was an old-fashioned log-building, with a hall running through the centre, and one large room on each side. Piazzas extended the whole length of the building in front and rear. These were planked up, for greater se- curity, port-holes were cut, and sentinels posted at night. 81 As the enemy were believed to be lurking still in the neighborhood, or, emboldened by former success, likely to return at any mo- ment, an order was issued prohibiting any soldier or citizen from leaving the vicinity of the garrison without a guard. One night a sergeant and private, who were out on a patrol, came suddenly upon a party of Indians in the pasture adjoining the *The present site of the lighthouse. 81 Following the murders of April 6, Captain Heald enrolled the male civilians of Chicago in a company under the command of Thomas Burns, which he called the Chicago militia. It heads the roll of all Chicago's volunteer military organizations, and its tragic history is unequalled by that of any of its successors. There were fifteen members at first, three of whom presently left Chicago for the Indian country. The twelve remain- ing were slain to a man in the battle of August 15. — Ed. 242 JNauetfacre at Cfjtcago esplanade. The sergeant fired his piece, and both retreated toward the fort. Before they could reach it, an Indian threw his toma- hawk, which missed the sergeant and struck a wagon standing near. The sentinel from the block-house immediately fired, and with effect, while the men got safely in. The next morning it was ascertained, from traces of blood to a considerable distance into the prairie, and from the appearance of a body having been laid among the long grass, that some execution had been done. On another occasion the enemy entered the esplanade to steal horses. Not finding them in the stable, as they had expected, they made themselves amends for their dis- appointment by stabbing all the sheep in the stable, and then letting them loose. The poor animals flocked towards the fort. This gave the alarm — the garrison was aroused — parties were sent out, but the marauders es- caped unmolested. The inmates of the fort experienced no further alarm for many weeks. On the afternoon of the 7th August, YVin- nemeg, or Catfish, a Pottowattamie chief, arrived at the post, bringing despatches from Gen. Hull. These announced the declara- tion of war between the United States and 243 {Efje "€arl|> ©ap" m tfje ilorrtj=M3est Great Britain, and that Gen. Hull, at the head of the North-Western army, had ar- rived at Detroit; also, that the island of Mackinac had fallen into the hands of the British. The orders to Captain Heald were, "to evacuate the fort, if practicable, and in that event, to distribute all the United States' property contained in the fort, and in the United States' factory or agency, among the Indians in the neighborhood." After having delivered his despatches, Winnemeg requested a private interview with Mr. Kinzie, who had taken up his resi- dence in the fort. He stated to Mr. K. that he was acquainted with the purport of the communications he had brought, and begged him to ascertain if it were the intention of Captain Heald to evacuate the post. He advised strongly against such a step, inas- much as the garrison was well supplied with ammunition, and with provisions for six months. It would, therefore, be far better, he thought, to remain until a reinforcement could be sent to their assistance. If, how- ever, Captain Heald should decide upon leaving the post, it should by all means be done immediately. The Pottowattamies, through whose country they must pass, be- ing ignorant of the object of Winnemeg's 244 Jffla&sfacre at Chicago mission, a forced march might be made, be- fore those who were hostile in their feelings were prepared to interrupt them. Of this advice, so earnestly given, Captain Heald was immediately informed. He re- plied that it was his intention to evacuate the post, but that, inasmuch as he had re- ceived orders to distribute the United States' property, he should not feel justified in leav- ing it until he had collected the Indians of the neighborhood, and made an equitable division among them. Winnemeg then suggested the expediency of marching out, and leaving all things standing — possibly while the Indians were engaged in the partition of the spoils, the troops might effect their retreat unmolested. This advice was strongly seconded by Mr. Kinzie, but did not meet the approbation of the Commanding Officer. The order for evacuating the post was read next morning upon parade. It is diffi- cult to understand why Captain Heald, in such an emergency, omitted the usual form of calling a council of war with his officers. It can only be accounted for by the fact of a want of harmonious feeling between himself and one of his junior officers — Ensign Ro- nan, a high-spirited and somewhat over- bearing, but brave and generous young man. ®fje "Carl? ®ap" m tfje J|ortf)=13e£rt In the course of the day, finding that no council was called, the officers waited on Captain Heald to be informed what course he intended to pursue. When they learned his intentions, they remonstrated with him, on the following grounds: First — It was highly improbable that the command would be permitted to pass through the country in safety to Fort Wayne. For although it had been said that some of the chiefs had opposed an attack upon the fort, planned the preceding au- tumn, yet it was well known that they had been actuated in that matter by motives of private regard to one family, and not to any general friendly feeling toward the Ameri- cans; and that, at any rate, it was hardly to be expected that these few individuals would be able to control the whole tribe, who were thirsting for blood. In the next place — their march must nec- essarily be slow, as their movements must be accommodated to the helplessness of the women and children, of whom there were a number with the detachment. That of their small force, some of the soldiers were super- annuated, others invalid; therefore, since the course to be pursued was left discre- tional, their unanimous advice was, to remain where they were, and fortify themselves as 246 jfflaaaacre at Cfncago strongly as possible. Succors from the other side of the peninsula might arrive before they could be attacked by the British from Mackinac, and even should there not, it were far better to fall into the hands of the latter than to become the victims of the savages. Captain Heald argued in reply, ''that a special order had been issued by the war department, that no post should be surren- dered without battle having been given, and his force was totally inadequate to an en- gagement with the Indians. That he should unquestionably be censured for remaining, when there appeared a prospect of a safe march through; and that, upon the whole, he deemed it expedient to assemble the In- dians, distribute the property among them, and then ask of them an escort to Fort Wayne, with the promise of a considerable reward upon their safe arrival — adding, that he had full confidence in the friendly profes- sions of the Indians, from whom, as well as from the soldiers, the capture of Mackinac had been kept a profound secret. From this time the officers held them- selves aloof, and spoke but little upon the subject, though they considered the project of Captain Heald little short of madness. The dissatisfaction among the soldiers hourly 247 Hfyt "<£arlp ®ap" in tfje J|orrt)=ja3e£t increased, until it reached a high pitch of in- subordination. Upon one occasion, as Captain Heald was conversing with Mr. Kinzie upon the parade, he remarked, "I could not remain, even if I thought it best, for I have but a small store of provisions." "Why, captain," said a soldier who stood near, forgetting all etiquette in the excite- ment of the moment, "you have cattle enough to last the troops six months." "But," replied Captain Heald, "I have no salt to preserve it with." "Then jerk* it," said the man, "as the In- dians do their venison." 82 The Indians now became daily more un- ruly. Entering the fort in defiance of the sentinels, they made their way without cere- mony into the officer's quarters. On one oc- casion, an Indian took up a rifle and fired it in the parlor of the Commanding Officer, as an expression of defiance. Some were of *This is done by cutting the meat in thin slices, placing it upon a scaffold, and making a fire under it, which dries it and smokes it at the same time. 82 The contemporary official certificate of Captain Heald shows that he had seventeen barrels of salt in the fort at the time of the evacuation. Captain Heald had seen eleven years of service as an officer in the Northwest, and could scarcely have been ignorant of the familiar process here described. — Ed. 2 4 8 Jfflasteacre at Cfjtcago opinion that this was intended among the young men as a signal for an attack. The old chiefs passed backwards and forward among the assembled groups, with the appearance of the most lively agitation, while the squaws rushed to and fro, in great excitement, and evidently prepared for some fearful scene. Any further manifestation of ill-feeling was, however, suppressed for the present, and Captain Heald, strange as it may seem, con- tinued to entertain a conviction of having created so amicable a disposition among the Indians, as would insure the safety of the command on their march to Fort Wayne. Thus passed the time until the 12th Au- gust. The feelings of the inmates of the fort during this time may be better imagined than described. Each morning that dawned seemed to bring them nearer that most ap- palling fate — butchery by a savage foe — and at night they scarcely dared yield to slum- ber, lest they should be aroused by the war- whoop and tomahawk. Gloom and mistrust prevailed, and the want of unanimity among the officers, debarred them the consolation they might have found in mutual sympathy and encouragement. The Indians being assembled from the neighbouring villages, a council was held with them on the afternoon of the 12th. 249 ©ije "Carty 20ap" in fte J|orrtj=»est Captain Heald only, attended on the part of the military. He requested his officers to accompany him, but 'they declined. They had been secretly informed that it was the intention of the young chiefs to fall upon the officers and massacre them while in council, but they could not persuade Captain Heald of the truth of their information. They waited therefore only until he had left the garrison, accompanied by Mr. Kinzie, when they took command of the blockhouses which overlooked the esplanade on which the council was held, opened the port-holes, and pointed the cannon so as to command the whole assembly. By this means, prob- ably, the lives of the whites who were pres- ent in council were preserved. In council, the Commanding Officer in- formed the Indians that it was his intention to distribute among them the next day, not only the goods lodged in the United States' Factory, but also the ammunition and provi- sions, with which the garrison was well sup- plied. He then requested of the Pottowat- tamies an escort to Fort Wayne, promising them a liberal reward on arriving there, in addition to the presents they were now about to receive. With many professions of friend- ship and good-will, the savages assented to all he proposed, and promised all he required. 250 ifflasteacre at Cfjtcago After the council, Mr. Kinzie, who under- stood well, not only the Indian character, but the present tone of feeling among them, had a long interview with Captain Heald, in hopes of opening his eyes to the present pos- ture of affairs. He reminded him that since the troubles with the Indians upon the Wabash and its vicinity, there had appeared a settled plan of hostilities toward the whites, in conse- quence of which it had been the policy of the Americans to withhold from them whatever would enable them to carry on their war- fare upon the defenceless inhabitants of the frontier. Mr. Kinzie recalled to Captain Heald how that he had himself left home for Detroit the preceding autumn, but, receiving when he had proceeded as far as De Charme's* the intelligence of the battle of Tippecanoe, he had immediately returned to Chicago, that he might dispatch orders to his traders to furnish no ammunition to the Indians; in con- sequence of which all they had on hand was secreted, and such of the traders as had not already started for their wintering-grounds took neither powder nor shot with them. Captain Heald was struck with the im- policy of furnishing the enemy (for such *A trading establishment — now Ypsilanti. 251 (Efje "Carlp Sap" in tije Bort^fiHefirt thev must now consider their old neighbors) with arms against himself, and determined to destroy all the ammunition except what should be necessary for the use of his own troo] 1 . the 13th the goods, consisting of blan- , broadcloths, calicoes, paints, etc., were distributed, as stipulated. The same eve- ning the ammunition and liquor were carried, part into the sally-port, and thrown into a well which had been dug there to supply the garrison with water in case of emergency; the remainder was transported as secretly as possible through the northern gate, the heads of the barrels knocked in, and the contents poured into the river. The same fate was shared by a large quan- tity of alcohol belonging to Mr. Kinzie, which had been deposited in a warehouse near his residence opposite the fort. The Indians suspected what was going on, and crept, serpent-like, as near the scene of action as possible, but a vigilant watch was kept up, and no one was suffered to approach but those engaged in the affair. All the mus- kets not necessary for the command on the march were broken up and thrown into the well, together with the bags of shot, flints, gunscrews, and, in short, everything relating to weapons of offence. 2C2 jWa&Sacre at Cfncago Some relief to the general feeling of de- spondency was afforded by the arrival, on the 14th of August, of Captain Wells* with fifteen friendly Miamis. 83 Of this brave man, who forms so conspicu- ous a figure in our frontier annals, it is un- necessary here to say more than that he had been residing from his boyhood among the Indians, and consequently possessed a per- fect knowledge of their character and habits. He had heard, at Fort Wayne, of the or- der for evacuating the fort at Chicago, and knowing the hostile determination of the Pottowattamies, he had made a rapid march across the country, to prevent the exposure * Captain Wells when a boy was stolen from his friends, the family of Hon. Nathaniel Pope, in Kentucky. Although recovered by them, he preferred to return and live among his new friends. He married a Miami woman, and became a chief of the nation. He was the father of the late Mrs. Judge Wolcott, of Maumee, O. 83 Captain William W T ells of Fort Wayne, famous as a scout and Indian fighter, was an uncle of Mrs. Rebekah Heald; on learning of the impending evacuation he led a party of thirty Miami warriors to Chicago to assist in the withdrawal. He grew to manhood among the Miami, and married a daughter of Little Turtle, the noted Miami chief. Following St. Clair's defeat in 1 791, however, W'ells resumed his white allegiance and served as chief of scouts under General W T ayne. He perished at Chicago, Aug. 15, 181 2. Wells Street pre- serves the memory of his sacrifice. — Ed. 253 tCfjc "Carlp Bap" in tije i£orrt)=Megt of his relative, Captain Heald, and his troops to certain destruction. But he came "all too late." When he reached the post he found that the ammuni- tion had been destroyed, and the provisions given to the Indians. There was, therefore, now no alternative, and every preparation was made for the march of the troops on the following morning. < )n the afternoon of the same day, a sec- ond council was held with the Indians. They expressed great indignation at the destruc- tion of the ammunition and liquor. \ • a Ithstanding the precautions that bad been taken to preserve secrecv, the noise of knocking in the heads of the barrels had be- trayed the operations of the preceding night; and, so great was the quantity of liquor thrown into the river, that the taste of the water the next morning was, as one expressed Murmurs and threats were everywhere heard among the savages. It was evident that the first moment of exposure would subject the troops to some manifestation of their disappointment and resentment. Among the chiefs were several who, al- though they shared the general hostile feel- ing of their tribe toward the Americans, yet retained a personal regard for the troops at 254 Jttas&acre at Cfjicago this post, and for the few white citizens of the place. These chiefs exerted their utmost influence to allay the revengeful feelings of the young men, and to avert their sangui- nary designs, but without effect. On the evening succeeding the council, Black Partridge, a conspicuous chief, entered the quarters of the Commanding Officer. " Father," said he, "I come to deliver up to you the medal I wear. It was given me by the Americans, and I have long worn it, in token of our mutual friendship. But our young men are resolved to imbrue their hands in the blood of the whites. I cannot restrain them, and I will not wear a token of peace while I am compelled to act as an enemy." Had further evidence been wanting, this circumstance would sufficiently have proved to the devoted band, the justice of their melancholy anticipations. Nevertheless, they went steadily on with the necessary prepa- rations; and amid the horrors of their sit- uation, there were not wanting one or two gallant hearts, who strove to encourage, in their desponding companions, the hopes of escape they were far from indulging them- selves. Of the ammunition there had been re- served but twenty-five rounds, beside one 255 GCfje "earlp 2Sap" in tfje MovfaWlt&t box of cartridges, contained in the baggage- wagons. This must, under any circum- stances of danger, have proved an inade- quate supply, but the prospect of a fatiguing march, in their present ineffective state, for- bade the troops embarrassing themselves with a larger quantity. 256 Chapter 19 NARRATIVE OF THE MASSACRE CONTINUED THE morning of the 15th arrived. All things were in readiness, and nine o'clock was the hour named for starting. Mr. Kinzie had volunteered to accompany the troops in their march, and had entrusted his family to the care of some friendly In- dians, who had promised to convey them in a boat around the head of Lake Michigan to a point* on the St. Joseph's river; there to be joined by the troops, should the prosecu- tion of their march be permitted them. Early in the morning Mr. Kinzie received a message from To-pee-nee-bee, a chief of the St. Joseph's band, informing him that mischief was intended by the Pottowatta- mies who had engaged to escort the detach- ment; and urging him to relinquish his de- sign of accompanying the troops by land, promising him that the boat containing him- self and family should be permitted to pass in safety to St. Joseph's. * The spot now called Bertrand, then known as Pare aux Vaches, from its having been a pasture ground to an old French fort in the neighborhood. 257 {Ejje "<£arl|> 2Sap" tn tije Jlortft-ffiest Mr. Kinzie declined acceding to this pro- posal, as he believed that his presence might operate as a restraint upon the fury of the savages, so warmly were the greater part of them attached to himself and his family. The party in the boat consisted of Mrs. Kinzie and her four younger children, their nurse Grutte,* a clerk of Mr. kinzie's, two servants and the boatmen, besides the two Indians who acted as their protectors. The boat .started, but had scarcely reached the mouth of the river, which, it will be recol- lected was here half a mile below the fort, when another messenger from To-pec-ncc-bcc arrived to detain them where they were. In breathless expectation sat the wife and mother. She was a woman of uncommon en- ergy and strength of character, yet her heart died within her as she folded her arms around her helpless infants, and gazed upon the march of her husband and eldest child to certain destruction. As the troops left the fort, the band struck up the Dead March. On they came in mili- tary array, but with solemn mien. Captain Wells took the lead at the head of his little * Afterwards Mrs. Jean Baptiste Beaubien.* 4 84 The maiden name of Mrs. Beaubien was Josette Laframboise. Apparently Gruette is a misprint for Josette, her real name. — Ed. 258 J^tarrattoe of tfje JWasteacre band of Miamis. He had blackened his face before leaving the garrison, in token of his impending fate. They took their route along the lake shore. When they reached the point where commenced a range of sand hills inter- vening between the prairie and the beach, the escort of Pottowattamies, in number about five hundred, kept the level of the prairie, instead of continuing along the beach with the Americans and Miamis. They had marched perhaps a mile and a half, when Captain Wells, who had kept somewhat in advance with his Miamis, came riding furiously back. "They are about to attack us," shouted he; " form, instantly, and charge upon them." Scarcely were the words uttered, when a volley was showered from among the sand hills. The troops were hastily brought into line, and charged up the bank. One man, a veteran of seventy winters, fell as they as- cended. The remainder of the scene is best described in the words of an eye-witness and participator in the tragedy, Mrs. Helm, 85 the 85 Margaret McKillip was born near Colchester, Ont., in 1794. The circumstances of her early life are sketched in our historical introduction. On June 10, 18 10, she married Lieutenant Linai T. Helm of the Detroit gar- rison, and in 181 1 came with him to Fort Dearborn. Although Mrs. Kinzie attributes the massacre narrative directly to her, it is evident that she could have been 259 wife of Captain (then Lieutenant) Helm, and step-daughter of Mr. Kinzie. "After we had left the bank the firing be- came general. The Miamis fled at the out- set. Their chief rode up to the Pottowatta- mies and said: "' You have deceived the Americans and us. You have done a bad action, and (bran- dishing his tomahawk) I will be the first to head a party of Americans to return and punish your treachery.' So saying, he gal- loped after his companions, who were now scouring across the prairies. "The troops behaved most gallantly. They were but a handful, but they seemed resolved to sell their lives as dearly as possi- ble. Our horses pranced and bounded, and could hardly be restrained as the balls whis- tled among them. I drew off a little, and gazed upon my husband and father, who were yet unharmed. I felt that my hour was come, and endeavored to forget those I responsible for only a portion of the recital, and im- probable that the literary form of any of it originated with her. In 1829 she divorced her husband at Peoria, at which time he seems to have been living in Clay County, Illinois. Mrs. Helm lived some years with her relatives at Chicago and Fort Winnebago. In January, 1836, she married Dr. Lucius Abbott of Detroit, where she lived until her death in October, 1844. — Ed. 260 iHarrattbe of tfje iUlas&acre loved, and prepare myself for my approach- ing fate. "While I was thus engaged, the surgeon, Dr. Van Voorhees, came up. He was badly wounded. His horse had been shot under him, and he had received a ball in his leg. Every muscle of his face was quivering with the agony of terror. He said to me — 'Do you think they will take our lives? I am badly wounded, but I think not mortally. Perhaps we might purchase our lives by promising them a large reward. Do you think there is any chance?' "'Dr. Van Voorhees,' said I, 'do not let us waste the few moments that yet remain to us in such vain hopes. Our fate is inevi- table. In a few moments we must appear before the bar of God. Let us make what preparation is yet in our power.' "'Oh! I cannot die,' exclaimed he, 'I am not fit to die — if I had but a short time to prepare — death is awful ! ' "I pointed to Ensign Ronan, who though mortally wounded and nearly down, was still fighting with desperation on one knee. "'Look at that man,' said I, 'at least he dies like a soldier.' "'Yes,' replied the unfortunate man, with a convulsive gasp, ' but he has no terrors of the future — he is an unbeliever!' 261 Zt)t "Carl? Sap" in ti)t &ovtt)=mzgt "At this moment a young Indian raised his tomahawk at me. By springing aside, I avoided the blow which was intended for my skull, but which alighted on mv shoulder. I seized him around the neck, and while exert- ing my utmost efforts to get possession of his scalping-knife, which hung in a scabbard over his breast, I was dragged from his grasp by another and an older Indian. "The latter bore me struggling and resist- ing towards the lake. Notwithstanding the rapidity with which I was hurried along, I recognized as I passed them the lifeless re- mains of the unfortunate surgeon. Some murderous tomahawk had stretched him upon the very spot where I had last seen him. "I was immediately plunged into the water and held there with a forcible hand, notwithstanding mv resistance. I soon per- ceived, however, that the object of my cap- tor was not to drown me, for he held me firmly in such a position as to place my head above water. This reassured me, and regard- ing him attentively, I soon recognized, in spite of the paint with which he was dis- guised, The Black Partridge. "When the firing had nearly subsided, my preserver bore me from the water and con- ducted me up the sand-banks. It was a burn- ing August morning, and walking through 262 Jlarrattoe of rtje iffflas&acre the sand in my drenched condition was in- expressibly painful and fatiguing. I stooped and took off my shoes to free them from the sand with which they were nearly filled, when a squaw seized and carried them off, and I was obliged to proceed without them. "When we had gained the prairie, I was met by my father, who told me that my hus- band was safe and but slightly wounded. They led me gently back towards the Chi- cago River, along the southern bank of which was the Pottowattamie encampment. At one time I was placed upon a horse with- out a saddle, but finding the motion insup- portable, I sprang off. Supported partly by my kind conductor, Black Partridge, and partly by another Indian, Pee-so-tum, who held dangling in his hand a scalp, which by the black ribbon around the queue I recog- nized as that of Capt. Wells, I dragged my fainting steps to one of the wigwams. "The wife of W T au-bee-nee-mah, a chief from the Illinois River was standing near, and seeing my exhausted condition she seized a kettle, dipped up some water from a stream that flowed near,* threw into it some maple sugar, and stirring it up with her hand gave it to me to drink. This act of kindness, in the midst of so many horrors, touched me most *Just by the present State street Market. 263 Cfte "earlp ©ap" in tfte MovfcWlt&t sensibly, but my attention was soon diverted to other objects. "1 he fort had become a scene of plunder to such as remained after the troops marched out. The cattle had been shot down as they ran at large, and lay dead or dying around. This work of butchery had commenced just .'. e were leaving the fort. I well remem- bered a remark of Ensign Ronan, as the fir- ing went on. 'Such,' turning to me, 'is to be our fate— to be shot down like brutes!' "Well sir,' said the Commanding Officer who overheard him, 'are you afraid?' "'NO,' replied the high spirited young mar., ' I can march up to the enemy where you dare not show your face;' and his sub- sequent gallant behaviour showed this to be no idle boast. "As the noise of the firing grew gradually less and the stragglers from the victorious party came dropping in, I received confirma- tion of what my father had hurriedly com- municated in our rencontre on the lake shore; namely, that the whites had surrendered after the loss of about two-thirds of their number. They had stipulated, through the interpreter, Peresh Leclerc, for the preserva- tion of their lives, and those of the remain- ing women and children, and for their de- livery at some of the British posts, unless 264 Jlarrattoe of tfje jfflaateacre ransomed by traders in the Indian country. It appears that the wounded prisoners were not considered as included in the stipula- tion, and a horrible scene ensued upon their being brought into camp. "An old squaw infuriated by the loss of friends, or excited by the sanguinary scenes around her, seemed possessed by a demoniac ferocity. She seized a stable-fork and as- saulted one miserable victim, 86 who lay groaning and writhing in the agony of his wounds, aggravated by the scorching beams of the sun. With a delicacy of feeling scarcely to have been expected under such circum- stances, Wau-bee-nee-mah stretched a mat across two poles, between me and this dread- ful scene. I was thus spared in some degree a view of its horrors, although I could not entirely close my ears to the cries of the suf- ferer. The following night five more of the wounded prisoners were tomahawked. "The Americans after their first attack by the Indians charged upon those who had concealed themselves in a sort of ravine, in- tervening between the sand banks and the prairie. The latter gathered themselves into a body, and after some hard fighting, in which the number of whites had become 86 Thomas Burns, leader of the ill-fated militia com- pany. — Ed. 265 W$z "Carl? Bap" in tfje MovfcWlzxt reduced to twenty-eight, this little band suc- ceeded in breaking through the enemy, and gaining a rising ground, not far from the Oak Woods. The contest now seemed hopeless, and Lt. Helm sent Peresh Leclerc, a half- breed boy in the service of Mr. Kinzie, who had accompanied the detachment and fought manfully on their side, to propose terms of capitulation. It was stipulated that the lives of all the survivors should be spared, and a ransom permitted as soon as practicable. ''But, in the mean time, a horrible scene had been enacted. One young savage, climb- ing into the baggage-wagon containing the children of the white families, twelve in num- ber, tomahawked the children of the entire group. This was during the engagement near the Sand-hills. When Captain Wells, who was fighting near, beheld it, he exclaimed: "Ts that their game, butchering the women and children? Then I will kill too!' "So saying, he turned his horse's head, and started for the Indian camp, near the fort, where had been left their squaws and children. "Several Indians pursued him as he gal- loped along. He laid himself flat on the neck of his horse, loading and firing in that posi- tion, as he would occasionally turn on his pursuers. At length their balls took effect, 266 iHarrattbe of tfje Jtlasteacre killing his horse, and severely wounding him- self. At this moment he was met by Winne- rneg and Wau-ban-see^ who endeavored to save him from the savages who had now overtaken him. As they supported him along, after having disengaged him from his horse, he received his death-blow from an- other Indian, Pee-so-tum^ who stabbed him in the back. "The heroic resolution of one of the sol- dier's wives deserves to be recorded. She was a Mrs. Corbin, and had, from the first, expressed the determination never to fall into the hands of the savages, believing that their prisoners were always subjected to tor- tures worse than death. " When, therefore, a party came upon her, to make her a prisoner, she fought with desperation, refusing to surrender, although assured, by signs, of safety and kind treat- ment, and literally suffered herself to be cut to pieces, rather than become their captive. "There was a Sergeant Holt, who, early in the engagement, received a ball in the neck. Finding himself badly wounded, he gave his sword to his wife, who was on horse- back near him, telling her to defend herself — he then made for the lake, to keep out of the way of the balls. Mrs. Holt rode a very fine horse, which the Indians were desirous 267 Zi)t "£arlp ©ap" m fte J^ortf)=5He£rt of possessing, and they therefore attacked her, in hopes of dismounting her. "They fought only with the butt-ends of their guns, for their object was not to kill her. She hacked and hewed at their pieces as they were thrust against her, now on this side, now on that. Finally, she broke loose from them, and dashed out into the prairie. The Indians pursued her, shouting and laughing, and now and then calling out: "'The brave woman! do not hurt her!' "At length they overtook her again, and while she was engaged with two or three in front, one succeeded in seizing her by the neck behind, and dragging her, although a large and powerful woman, from her horse. Notwithstanding that their guns had been so hacked and injured, and even themselves cut severely, they seemed to regard her only with admiration. They took her to a trader on the Illinois River, by whom she was re- stored to her friends, after having received every kindness during her captivity.* "Those of the family of Air. Kinzie, who had remained in the boat, near the mouth of the river, were carefully guarded by Kee-po- tah and another Indian. They had seen the smoke — then the blaze — and immediately *Mrs. Holt is believed to be still living in the State of Ohio. 268 J^tarrattoe of tfte jllas&acre after the report of the first tremendous dis- charge sounded in their ears. Then all was confusion. They realized nothing until they saw an Indian come towards them from the battle-ground, leading a horse on which sat a lady, apparently wounded. "That is Mrs. Heald,' cried Mrs. Kinzie. 'That Indian will kill her. Run, Chandon- nai,' to one of Mr. Kinzie's clerks, 'take the mule that is tied there, and offer it to him to release her.' "Her captor, by this time, was in the act of disingaging her bonnet from her head, in order to scalp her. Chandonnai ran up, offered the mule as a ransom, with the prom- ise of ten bottles of whiskey, as soon as they should reach his village. The latter was a strong temptation. "'But,' said the Indian, 'she is badly wounded — she will die. Will you give me the whiskey, at all events?' "Chandonnai promised that he would, and the bargain was concluded. The savage placed the lady's bonnet on his own head, and after an ineffectual effort on the part of some squaws to rob her of her shoes and stockings, she was brought on board the boat, where she lay moaning with pain from the many bullet wounds she had received in both arms. 269 tCftc "earlp 3Bap" in tije j£orrt)=JUe£t "The horse she had ridden was a fine spir- ited animal, and, being desirous of possessing themselves of it uninjured, the Indians had aimed their shots so as to disable the rider, without injuring her steed. "She had not lain long in the boat, when a young Indian of savage aspect was seen approaching. A buffalo robe was hastily drawn over Mrs. Heald, and she was admon- ished to suppress all sound of complaint, as she valued her life. "The heroic woman remained perfectly silent, while the savage drew near. He had a pistol in his hand, which he rested on the side of the boat, while, with a fearful scowl, he looked pryingly around. Black Jim, one of the servants who stood in the bow of the boat, seized an axe that lay near, and signed to him that if he shot, he would cleave his skull; telling him that the boat contained only the family of Shaw-nee-azv- kee. Upon this, the Indian retired. It afterward appeared that the object of his search was Mr. Burnett, a trader from St. Joseph's, with whom he had some account to settle. "When the boat was at length permitted to return to the mansion of Mr. Kinzie, and Mrs. Heald was removed to the house, it be- came necessary to dress her wounds. 270 Jlarrattoe of tfje jfWasteacre ''Mr. K. applied to an old chief who stood by, and who, like most of his tribe, possessed some skill in surgery, to extract a ball from the arm of the sufferer. '"No, father,' replied he. 'I cannot do it — it makes me sick here' — (placing his hand on his heart). "Mr. Kinzie then performed the opera- tion himself with his penknife. "At their own mansion the family of Mr. Kinzie were closely guarded by their Indian friends, whose intention it was to carry them to Detroit for security. The rest of the prisoners remained at the wigwams of their captors. "The following morning, the work of plun- der being completed, the Indians set fire to the fort. A very equitable distribution of the finery appeared to have been made, and shawls, ribbons, and feathers fluttered about in all directions. The ludicrous appearance of one young fellow who had arrayed him- self in a muslin gown, and the bonnet of one of the ladies, would, under other circum- stances, have afforded matter of amusement. "Black Partridge, Wau-ban-see, and Kee- po-tah, with two other Indians, having es- tablished themselves in the porch of the building as sentinels, to protect the family from any evil that the young men might be 271 Zi)t "6arlp Bap" m tfje ftovtb-Mttit excited to commit, all remained tranquil for a short space after the conflagration. "Very soon, however, a party of Indians from the Wabash made their appearance. These were, decidedly, the most hostile and implacable of all the tribes of the Pottowat- t amies. " Being more remote, they had shared less than some of their brethren in the kindness of Mr. Kinzie and his family, and conse- quently their sentiments of regard for them were less powerful. " Runners had been sent to the villages to apprize them of the intended evacuation of the post, as well as of the plan of the Indians assembled to attack the troops. "Thirsting to participate in such a scene they hurried on, and great was their morti- fication on arriving at the river Aux Plaines, to meet with a partv of their friends hav- ing with them their chief Xee-scot-nee-meg, badly wounded, and to learn that the battle was over, the spoils divided, and the scalps all taken. "On arriving at Chicago they blackened their faces, and proceeded towards the dwell- ing of Mr. Kinzie. "From his station on the piazza Black Partridge had watched their approach, and his fears were particularly awakened for the Jlarrattoe of rtje jWasteacre safety of Mrs. Helm (Mr. Kinzie's step- daughter), who had recently come to the post, and was personally unknown to the more remote Indians. By his advice she was made to assume the ordinary dress of a French woman of the country; namely, a short gown and petticoat, with a blue cotton handkerchief wrapped around her head. In this disguise she was conducted by Black Partridge himself to the house of Ouil- mette, 87 a Frenchman with a half-breed wife, who formed a part of the establishment of Mr. Kinzie, and whose dwelling was close at hand. "It so happened that the Indians came first to this house, in their search for pris- oners. As they approached, the inmates, 87 Antoine Ouilmette was living at Chicago when the garrison came in the summer of 1803, and in his old age he claimed to have come here in 1790. If so, it was probably in the capacity of employee of Point Sable. A variety of contemporary references indicate that he continued to live here until the end of his life. In 1825 his name appears on Chicago's first tax list and the following year on the first Chicago poll list. He was a Catholic, and he signed the petition for the establish- ment of the first Catholic church in Chicago. Ouilmette had a Potawatomi wife, to whom (and her children) a reservation of two sections of land near Chicago was conveyed by the Prairie du Chien treaty of 1829. Ouilmette was living near Chicago as late as the sum- mer of 1839. — Ed. 273 tKfje "<£arlp ®ap" tn tfje J?ortf)=fflleat fearful that the fair complexion and general appearance of Mrs. Helm might betray her for an American, raised a large feather-bed and placed her under the edge of it, upon the bedstead, with her face to the wall. Mrs. Bisson, the sister of Ouilmette's wife, then seated herself with her sewing upon the front of the bed. "It was a hot day in August, and the feverish excitement of fear and agitation, together with her position, which was nearly suffocating, became so intolerable, that Mrs. Helm at length entreated to be released and given up to the Indians. "I can but die,' said she; 'let them put an end to my misery at once.' "Mrs. Bisson replied, 'Your death would be the destruction of us all, for Black Part- ridge has resolved that if one drop of the blood of your family is spilled, he will take the lives of all concerned in it, even his near- est friends, and if once the work of murder commences, there will be no end of it, so long as there remains one white person, or half-breed, in the country.' "This expostulation nerved Mrs. Helm with fresh resolution. "The Indians entered, and she could occa- sionally see them from her hiding-place, glid- ing about, and stealthily inspecting every 274 Jlarrattbe of tfje ilWas&acre part of the room, though without making any ostensible search, until apparently satis- fled that there was no one concealed, they left the house. "All this time Mrs. Bisson had kept her seat upon the side of the bed, calmly sorting and arranging the patchwork of the quilt on which she was engaged, and preserving an appearance of the utmost tranquillity, although she knew not but that the next moment she might receive a tomahawk in her brain. Her self-command unquestion- ably saved the lives of all present. "From Ouilmette's house the party of In- dians proceeded to the dwelling of Mr. Kin- zie. They entered the parlor in which the family were assembled with their faithful protectors, and seated themselves upon the floor in silence. "Black Partridge perceived from their moody and revengeful looks what was pass- ing in their minds, but he dared not remon- strate with them. He only observed in a low tone to Wau-ban-see — " 'We have endeavored to save our friends, but it is in vain — nothing will save them now/ "At this moment a friendly whoop was heard from a party of new comers on the op- posite bank of the river. Black Partridge 275 ftfje "<£arlp ©ap" in ttje J2orrt)=Wes;t sprang to meet their leader, as the canoes in which they had hastily embarked touched the bank near the house. ''Who are you?' demanded he. '"A man — who are you?* " 'A man like yourself, but tell me who you arc' — meaning, tell me your disposition, and which side you are tor. "' 1 am the Sau-ga-nashV 'Then make all speed to the house — your friend is in danger, and you alone can save him.' " Billy Caldwell* for it was he, entered the parlor with a calm step, and without a trace ot agitation in his manner. He deliberately took orF his accoutrements and placed them with his rifle behind the door; then saluted the hostile savages. "How now, my friends! A good day to you. I was told there were enemies here, but I am glad to find only friends. Why have you blackened your faces? Is it that you are mourning for the friends you have lost in battle?' (purposely misunderstanding * Billy Caldwell was a half-breed, and a chief of the nation. In his reply, "I am a Sau-ga-nash," or English- man, he designed to convey, "I am a white man." Had he said, "I am a Pottowattamie" it would have been interpreted to mean, "I belong to my nation, and am prepared to go all lengths with them." 276 iBtarrattoe of tfie JWaa&acre this token of evil designs). ' Or is it that you are fasting? If so, ask our friend here, and he will give you to eat. He is the Indian's friend, and never yet refused them what they had need of.' "Thus taken by surprise, the savages were ashamed to acknowledge their bloody pur- pose. They, therefore, said modestly that they came to beg of their friends some white cotton in which to wrap their dead, before interring them. This was given to them with some other presents, and they took their de- parture peaceably from the premises. " Along with Mr. Kinzie's party was a non-commissioned officer who had made his escape in a singular manner. As the troops were about leaving the fort it was found that the baggage-horses of the surgeon had strayed off. The quarter-master-sergeant, Griffith, 88 was sent to collect them and bring them on, it being absolutely necessary to 88 William Griffith was a sergeant in Captain Heald's company. He survived the massacre, accompanied Captain and Mrs. Heald on their long journey from Chicago to St. Joseph and thence around the Lakes, and later in the war served in Colonel Richard M. Johnson's Kentucky mounted regiment. His own account of his part in the massacre, as reported by Robert B. McAfee {History of the Late War in the West- ern Country , Lexington, 1816) does not harmonize with the narrative our author here presents. — Ed. 277 ftfje "<£arlp ®ap" in tfte Mavfy-Wiztit recover them, since their packs contained part of the surgeon's apparatus, and the medicines for the march. "This man had been for a long time on the sick report, and for this reason was given the charge ot the baggage, instead of being placed with the troops. His efforts to re- cover the horses being unsuccessful, he was hastening to rejoin his party, alarmed at some appearances of disorder and hostile in- dications among the Indians, when he was met and made prisoner by To-pee-nee-bee. " I laving taken from him his arms and ac- coutrements, the chief put him into a canoe and paddled him across the river, bidding him make for the woods and secrete himself. This he did, and the following day, in the afternoon, seeing from his lurking-place that all appeared quiet, he ventured to steal cau- tiously into the garden of Ouilmette, where he concealed himself for a time behind some currant-bushes. "At length he determined to enter the house, and accordingly climbed up through a small back window, into the room where the family were. This was just as the Wa- bash Indians left the house of Ouilmette for that of Mr. Kinzie. The danger of the sergeant was now imminent. The family stripped him of his uniform and arrayed him 278 J^arratibe of tfje iftlas&acre in a suit of deer-skin, with belt, moccasins, and pipe, like a French engage. His dark complexion and large black whiskers favored the disguise. The family were all ordered to address him in French, and although utterly ignorant of the language he continued to pass for a JVeem-tee-gosh* and as such to ac- company Mr. Kinzie and his family, unde- tected by his enemies until they reached a place of safety. "On the third day after the battle, the family of Mr. Kinzie, with the clerks of the establishment, were put into a boat, under the care of Francois, a half-breed interpre- ter, and conveyed to St. Joseph's where they remained until the following November, un- der the protection of To-pee-nee-bee s band. They were then conducted to Detroit, under the escort of Chandonnai and their trusty Indian friend, Ke-po-tah> and delivered up as prisoners of war, to Col. McKee the Brit- ish Indian Agent. "Mr. Kinzie was not allowed to leave St. Joseph's with his family, his Indian friends insisting on his remaining and endeavoring to secure some remnant of his scattered property. During his excursions with them for that purpose, he wore the costume and paint of the tribe, in order to escape capture * Frenchman. 279 W$t "<£arlp Bap" in ttje J?ortfc=MJe£t and perhaps death at the hands of those who were still thirsting for blood. In time, how- ever, his anxiety for his family induced him to follow them to Detroit, where, in the month of January, he was received and pa- roled by Gen. Proctor. "Capt. and Mrs. Heald had been sent across the lake to St. Joseph's the day after the battle. The former had received two wounds, the latter seven in the engage- ment. "Lieut. Helm, who was likewise wounded, was carried by some friendly Indians to their village on the Au Sable, and thence to Peoria, where he was liberated by the inter- vention of Mr. Thomas Forsyth, the half- brother of Mr. Kinzie. Mrs. Helm had ac- companied her parents to St. Joseph, where they resided in the family of Alexander Rob- inson,* receiving from them all possible kind- ness and hospitality for several months. "After their arrival in Detroit, Mrs. Helm was joined by her husband, when they were both arrested by order of the British com- mander, and sent on horseback, in the dead of winter, through Canada to Fort George on the Niagara frontier. When they arrived *The Pottowattamie chief, so well known to many of the citizens of Chicago, now residing at the Aux Plaines. 280 Jfrarrattbe of tfje Jllasteacre at that post, there seemed no official ap- pointed to receive them, and notwithstand- ing their long and fatiguing journey, in weather the most cold and inclement, Mrs. H., a delicate woman of seventeen years, was permitted to sit waiting in her saddle with- out the gate for more than an hour, before the refreshment of fire or food, or even the shelter of a roof, was offered her. When Col. Sheaffe, who had been absent at the time, was informed of this brutal inhospi- tality, he expressed the greatest indignation. He waited on Mrs. Helm immediately, apol- ogized in the most courteous manner, and treated both her and Lieut. H. with the most considerate kindness, until, by an exchange of prisoners, they were liberated, and found means to reach their friends in Steuben County, N. Y. "Capt. Heald had been taken prisoner by an Indian from the Kankakee, who had a strong personal regard for him, and who, when he saw the wounded and enfeebled state of Mrs. H. released her husband that he might accompany his wife to St. Joseph's. To the latter place they were accordingly carried, as has been related, by Chandonnai and his party. In the mean time, the Indian who had so nobly released his prisoner re- turned to his village on the Kankakee, where 281 £fje "€arlp ©ap" tn ttje i£ortf)=«Iest he had the mortification of finding that his conduct had excited great dissatisfaction among his band. So great was the displeas- ure manifested, that he resolved to make a journey to St. Joseph's and reclaim his prisoner. "News of his intention being brought to To-pee-nee-bee and Kee-po-tah under whose care the prisoners were, they held a private council with Chandonnai, Mr. Kinzie, and the principal men of the village, the result of which was, a determination to send Capt. and Mrs. Heald to the island of Mackinac, and deliver them up to the British. "They were accordingly put in a bark ca- noe, and paddled by Robinson and his wife a distance of three hundred miles along the coast of Michigan, and surrendered as pris- oners of war to the Commanding Officer at Mackinac. "As an instance of the procrastinating spirit of Capt. Heald it may be mentioned that even after he had received certain intel- ligence that his Indian captor was on his way from the Kankakee to St. Joseph's to retake him, he would still have delayed another day at that place, to make preparation for a more comfortable journey to Mackinac. "The soldiers, with their wives and sur- viving children, were dispersed among the 282 Jlarrattoe of tfje Jfflas&acre different villages of the Pottowattamies upon the Illinois, Wabash, Rock River, and at Milwaukee, until the following spring, when they were, for the most part, carried to De- troit, and ransomed. 89 "Mrs. Burns, with her infant, became the prisoner of a chief, who carried her to his village and treated her with great kindness. His wife, from jealousy of the favor shown to 'the white woman' and her child, always treated them with great hostility. On one occasion she struck the infant with a toma- hawk, and narrowly missed her aim of put- ting an end to it altogether.* They were not left long in the power of the old hag, after this demonstration, but on the first oppor- tunity were carried to a place of safety. 89 Twenty-nine members of the Fort Dearborn gar- rison remained alive at the close of the brief battle on the lake shore, August 15, 18 12. Several of the captives were tortured on the night succeeding the massacre. Several were slain later, or perished from the hardships of their captivity. In all, eleven died or were slain in captivity; eighteen returned to civilization. A graphic picture of the experiences of one of the captive soldiers is afforded by James Corbin's narrative in Miss. Valley Hist. Review, III, 219 H. — Ed. * Twenty-two years after this, as I was on a journey to Chicago in the steamer Uncle Sam, a young woman, hearing my name, introduced herself to me, and raising the hair from her forehead, showed me the mark of the tomahawk which had so nearly been fatal to her. 283 GTfte "€arlp Bap" tn tije Movti)=WLt&t "The family of Mr. Lee had resided in a house on the Lake shore, not far from the fort. Mr. Lee was the owner of Lee's Place, which he cultivated as a farm. It was his son who ran down with the discharged soldier to give the alarm of "Indians" at the fort on the afternoon of the yth of April. The fa- ther, the son, and all the other members of the family had fallen victims on the 15th of August, except Mrs. Lee and her young in- fant. These were claimed by Black Part- ridge, and carried to his village on the Au Sable. \ le had been particularly attached to a little girl of Mrs. Lee's, about twelve years of age. This child had been placed on horse- back for the march, and as she was unaccus- tomed to the exercise, she was tied fast to the saddle, lest by any accident she should slip off or be thrown. "She was within reach of the balls at the commencement of the engagement, and was severely wounded. The horse set off on a full gallop, which partly threw her, but she was held fast by the bands which confined her, and hung dangling as the animal ran violently about. In this state she was met by Black Partridge, who caught the horse and disengaged her from the saddle. Find- ing her so much wounded that she could not recover, and that she was suffering great 284 Jlarrattoe of tfje Jfflasteacre agony, he put the finishing stroke to her at once with his tomahawk. He afterward said that this was the hardest thing he ever tried to do, but he did it because he could not bear to see her suffer. "He took the mother and her infant to his village, where he became warmly attached to the former — so much so, that he wished to marry her, but, as she very naturally ob- jected, he treated her with the greatest re- spect and consideration. He was in no hurry to release her, for he was in hopes of prevail- ing on her to become his wife. In the course of the winter her child fell ill. Finding that none of the remedies within their reach were effectual, Black Partridge proposed to take the little one to Chicago, where there was now a French trader living in the mansion of Mr. Kinzie, and procure some medical aid from him. Wrapping up his charge with the greatest care, he set out on his journey. "When he arrived at the residence of M. Du Pin, he entered the room where he was, and carefully placed his burthen on the floor. "'What have you there?' asked M. Du Pin. "'A young racoon, which I have brought you as a present,' was the reply, and opening the pack, he showed the little sick infant. 285 OTje "<£arlp Bap" in tfte J&ortf^Kieat "When the trader had prescribed for its complaint, and Black Partridge was about to return to his home, he told his friend his proposal to Mrs. Lee to become his wife and the manner in which it had been received. "M. I)u Pin entertained some fears that the chiefs honorable resolution might not hold out, to leave it to the lady herself whether to accept his addresses or not, so he entered at once into a negociation for her ransom, and so effectually wrought upon the good feelings of Black Partridge that he con- sented to bring his fair prisoner at once to Chicago, that she might be restored to her friends. " Whether the kind trader had at the out- set, any other feeling in the matter than sympathy and brotherly kindness we can- not say — we only know that, in process of time Mrs. Lee became Madame Du Pin, and that they lived together in great happiness for many years after. "The fate of Nau-non-gee, one of the chiefs of the Calumet village, and who is mentioned in the early part of the narrative, deserves to be recorded. " During the battle of the 1 5th of August, the chief object of his attack was one Ser- geant Hays, a man from whom he had re- ceived many acts of kindness. 286 J^arrattoe of tfte jWas&acre "After Hays had received a ball through the body, this Indian ran up to him to toma- hawk him, when the Sergeant, collecting his remaining strength, pierced him through the body with his bayonet. They fell together. Other Indians running up soon dispatched Hays, and it was not until then, that his bayonet was extracted from the body of his adversary. "The wounded chief was carried after the battle to his village on the Calumet, where he survived for several days. Finding his end approaching, he called together his young men, and enjoined them in the most solemn manner, to regard the safety of their prisoners after his death, and to take the lives of none of them from respect to his memory, as he deserved his fate from the hands of those whose kindness he had so ill— requited." 90 90 The improbability of this story of death-bed re- pentance of Naunongee will be apparent to the reader. Henry R. Schoolcraft, who visited Chicago in 1820 and was for some days the guest of John Kinzie, describes the duel between Hayes and the Indian, saying that Hayes bayonetted the red man and the latter toma- hawked his opponent, and both fell dead together. — Ed. 287 Chapter 20 CAPTIVITY OF J. KINZIE, SEN. AN AMUSING MISTAKE IT had been a stipulation of Gen. Hull at the surrender of Detroit that the inhab- itants of that place should be permitted to remain undisturbed in their homes. Ac- cordingly the family of Mr. Kinzie took up their quarters with their friends in the old mansion, which many will still recollect as standing on the north-east corner of Jeffer- son avenue and Wayne street. The feelings of indignation and sympathy were constantly aroused in the hearts of the citizens during the winter that ensued. They were almost daily called upon to witness the cruelties practised upon the American prison- ers brought in by their Indian captors. Those who could scarcely drag their wounded, bleeding feet over the frozen ground, were compelled to dance for the amusement of the savages, and these exhibitions sometimes took place before the Government House, the residence of Col. McKee. 91 Some of the 91 Apparently the allusion is to Captain Thomas Mc- Kee of the British Indian Department, who served 288 Capttottp of 3L Itfnjie, Mentor British officers looked on from their win- dows at these heart-rending performances; for the honor of humanity we will hope such instances were rare. Every thing that could be made available among the effects of the citizens were offered, to ransom their countrymen from the hands of these inhuman beings. The prisoners brought in from the River Raisin 92 — those unfortunate men who were permitted after their surrender to Gen. Proctor, to be tor- tured and murdered by inches by his savage allies, excited the sympathies and called for the action of the whole community. Private houses were turned into hospitals, and every one was forward to get possession of as many as possible of the survivors. To effect this, even the articles of their apparel were bar- tered by the ladies of Detroit, as they watched from their doors or windows the miserable victims carried about for sale. In the dwelling of Mr. Kinzie one large room was devoted to the reception of the sufferers. Few of them survived. Among throughout the war on the western front. Colonel Alexander McKee, his father, noted foeman of the Americans in the Revolution, and for many years Superintendent of the British Indian Department at Detroit and Amherstburg, died Jan. 13, 1799. — Ed. 92 The battle and massacre of the River Raisin (at mod- ern Monroe, Mich.) occurred January 22, 18 13. — Ed. 289 TO)e "Carl? ®ap" in fte MovfcWlttit those spoken of as objects of the deepest in- terest were two young gentlemen of Ken- tucky, brothers, both severely wounded, and their wounds aggravated to a mortal degree by subsequent ill-usage and hardships. Their solicitude for each other, and their exhibi- tion in various ways of the most tender fra- ternal affection, created an impression never to be forgotten. The last bargain made was by black Jim, and one of the children, who had permission to redeem a negro servant of the gallant Col. Allen, 93 with an old white horse, the only available article that remained among their possessions. A brother of Col. Allen afterwards came to Detroit, and the negro preferred returning to servitude rather than remaining a stranger in a strange land. Mr. Kinzie, as has been related, joined his family at Detroit in the month of January. A short time after suspicions arose in the mind of Gen. Proctor that he was in corre- spondence with Gen. Harrison, who was now at Fort Meigs, and who was believed to be meditating an advance upon Detroit. 93 Colonel John Allen was a Kentucky attorney who in 1812 raised a regiment of riflemen which served under Harrison on the Maumee. He was slain in the River Raisin battle, Jan. 22, 18 13. — Ed. 290 Capttottp of 3F. &m?te, Mentor Lieut. Watson of the British army waited upon Mr. Kinzie one day with an invitation to the quarters of Gen. Proctor on the oppo- site side of the river, saying he wished to speak with him, on business. Quite unsus- picious, he complied with the invitation, when to his surprise he was ordered into con- finement, and strictly guarded in the house of his former partner, Mr. Patterson of Sand- wich. Finding that he did not return to his home, Mrs. Kinzie informed some of the In- dian chiefs, his particular friends, who im- mediately repaired to the head-quarters of the Commanding Officer, demanded their "friend's" release, and brought him back to his home. After waiting a time until a favor- able opportunity presented itself, the Gen- eral sent a detachment of dragoons to arrest him. They had succeeded in carrying him away, and crossing the river with him. Just at this moment a party of friendly Indians made their appearance. "Where is the Shaw-nee-aw-kee ? " was the first question. "There," replied his wife, pointing across the river, " in the hands of the red-coats, who are taking him away again." The Indians ran to the river, seized some canoes that they found there, and crossing over to Sandwich, compelled Gen. Proctor a second time to forego his intentions. 291 ^fje "earl? ®ap" m ti)t J?ortf)=?!!eat A third time this officer was more success- ful, and succeeded in arresting Mr. Kinzie and conveying him heavily ironed to Fort Maiden, in Canada, at the mouth of the De- troit River. Here he was at first treated with great severity, but after a time the rigor of his confinement was somewhat relaxed, and he was permitted to walk on the bank of the river for air and exercise. On the ioth of September, as he was tak- ing his promenade under the close supervi- sion of a guard of soldiers, the whole party were startled by the sound of guns upon Lake Erie, at no great distance below. What could it mean? It must be Commodore Bar- clay firing into some of the Yankees. The firing continued. The time allotted the pris- oner for his daily walk expired, but neither he nor his guard observed the lapse of time, so anxiously were they listening to what they now felt sure was an engagement between ships of war. At length Mr. Kinzie was re- minded that the hour for his return to con- finement had arrived. He petitioned for another half-hour. "Let me stay," said he, "till we can learn how the battle has gone." Very soon a sloop appeared under press of sail, rounding the point, and presently two gun-boats in chase of her. 292 Capttottp of 3L Itfnjie, Mentor "She is running — she bears the British colors," cried he — ''yes, yes, they are lower- ing — she is striking her flag! Now," turning to the soldiers, "I will go back to prison con- tented — I know how the battle has gone." The sloop was the Little Belt, the last of the squadron captured by the gallant Perry on that memorable occasion which he an- nounced in the immortal words; "We have met the enemy, and they are ours!" Matters were growing critical, and it was necessary to transfer all prisoners to a place of greater security than the frontier was now likely to be. It was resolved therefore to send Mr. Kinzie to the mother country. Nothing has ever appeared, which would ex- plain this course of Gen. Proctor, in regard to this gentleman. He had been taken from the bosom of his family, where he was living quietly under the parole which he had re- ceived, and protected by the stipulations of the surrender. He was kept for months in confinement. Now he was placed on horse- back under a strong guard, who announced that they had orders to shoot him through the head, if he offered to speak to a person upon the road. He was tied upon the sad- dle in a way to prevent his escape, and thus they set out for Quebec. A little incident 293 tEJje "Carip ©ap" in tfje ^ovfaWizzt occurred, which will help to illustrate the course invariably pursued towards our citi- zens at this period, by the British army on the North-western frontier. The saddle on which Mr. Kinzie rode had not been properly fastened, and owing to the rough motion of the animal on which it was, it turned, so as to bring the rider into a most awkward and painful position. His limbs being fastened, he could not disengage him- self, and in this manner he was compelled by those who had charge of him to ride until he was nearly exhausted, before they had the humanity to release him. Arrived at Quebec, he was put on board a small vessel to be sent to England. The ves- sel when a few days out at sea was chased by an American frigate and driven into Halifax. A second time she set sail, when she sprung a leak and was compelled to put back. The attempt to send him across the ocean was now abandoned, and he was returned to Quebec. Another step, equally inexplicable with his arrest, was now taken. This was his release and that of Mr. Macomb, of De- troit, who was also in confinement in Quebec, and the permission given them to return to their friends and families, although the war was not yet ended. It may possibly be imag- ined that in the treatment these gentlemen 294 Captibttp of 3f. &m?te, Mentor received, the British Commander-in-chief sheltered himself under the plea of their being "native born British subjects," and perhaps when it was ascertained that Mr. Kinzie was indeed a citizen of the United States, it was thought safest to release him. In the meantime, General Harrison at the head of his troops had reached Detroit. He landed on the 29th September. All the citi- zens went forth to meet him — Mrs. Kinzie, leading her children by the hand, was of the number. The General accompanied her to her home, and took up his abode there. On his arrival he was introduced to Kee-po-tah, who happened to be on a visit to the family at that time. The General had seen the chief the preceding year, at the Council at Vin- cennes, and the meeting was one of great cordiality and interest. 94 In 18 16, Mr. Kinzie and his family again returned to Chicago. The fort was rebuilt on a somewhat larger scale than the former 94 It General Harrison stayed with the Kinzie family at all, it was not at this time. He occupied Amherst- burg on Sept. 27 and Sandwich two days later, on which day General McArthur was sent across the river to resume American possession of Detroit. Harrison promptly pressed on in pursuit of General Procter, and destroyed his army at the River Thames on Oct. 5. Returning from this victory, he remained at Detroit 295 Wi)t "€arl|> ©ap" m tfje j£orrt)«e£t one. It was not until the return of the troops that the bones of the unfortunate Americans who had been massacred four years before, were collected and buried. An Indian Agency, under the charge of Charles Jewett, 95 Esq., of Kentucky was es- tablished. He was succeeded in 1820 by Dr. Alexander Wolcott, of Connecticut, who oc- cupied that position until his death in 1830. The troops were removed from the garri- son in 1823, but restored in 1828, after the from about Oct. 10 to Oct. 20. It is improbable that Harrison had ever seen Mrs. Kinzie, or that he felt any special friendship for her husband, as the narrative seems to imply. There was later a long legal controversy between Kinzie and the heirs of his half-brother, Robert A. Forsyth, over the ownership of the house which Kinzie occupied from 18 12 to 18 16; the heirs asserted that after the death of their father Kinzie had fraudulently claimed ownership of the property, which he in fact held in trust for his half-brother. In 1822 the Land Board upheld this contention, and awarded the prop- erty to Forsyth's heirs. It also declared void the deed to a lot in Detroit which it had awarded to Kinzie on grounds which were now declared to have been fraud- ulent. — Ed. w Charles Jouett, a native of Louisa County, Va., was U. S. Indian agent at Detroit from 1802 to 1805. From 1805 to 181 1 he was Indian agent at Chicago. Resign- ing, he took up the practice of law in Mercer County, Kentucky. He was agent at Chicago a second time from 1 8 16 to 181 8. He died in Trigg County, Ken- tucky, May 28, 1834.— Ed. 296 Capttbitp of 3f. Hmjte, Senior Winnebago war. This was a disturbance be- tween the Winnebagoes and white settlers on and near the Mississippi. After some murders had been committed, the young chief, Red Bird, was taken and imprisoned at Prairie du Chien to await his trial, where he died of chagrin and the irksomeness of confinement. It was feared that the Potto- wattamies would make common cause with the Winnebagoes, and commence a general system of havoc and bloodshed on the fron- tier. They were deterred from such a step, probably, by the exertions of Billy Caldwell, Robinson, and Shau-bee-nay, 96 who made an expedition among the Rock River bands, to argue and persuade them into remaining tranquil. The few citizens of Chicago in these days, lived for the most part a very quiet un- varied life. The great abundance of game, and the immense fertility of the lands they 96 Shabbona (Shaubena, etc.) was an Ottawa of the Kankakee region who married a Potawatomi woman and became a chief of that tribe. He was an active lieutenant of Tecumseh until the death of that leader in the Battle of the Thames, after which he became and ever remained a firm friend of the Americans. His ride in 1832 to save the settlers from impending massacre is famous in the history of Illinois in this period. Shab- bona died July 17, 1859, and was buried in the cemetery at Morris, Illinois. — Ed. 297 Zi)t "€arlp ©ap" in tfje &ovti)=Wt&t cultivated, furnished them with a super- abundance of all the luxuries of garden, corn-field, and dairy. The question was once asked by a friend in the "east countrie:" "How do you dispose of all the good things you raiser You have no market?" "No." "And you cannot consume it all yourselves?" "No." "What then do you do with it ? " "Why, we manage, when a vessel arrives to persuade the Captain to accept a few kegs of butter, and stores of corn and vegetables, as a present, and that helps us to get rid of some of it." The mails arrived, as may be supposed, at very rare intervals. They were brought oc- casionally from Fort Clark (Peoria), but more frequently from Fort Wayne, or across the peninsula of Michigan which was still a wilderness peopled with savages. The hardy adventurer who acted as express was, not unfrequently, obliged to imitate the birds of heaven and "lodge among the branches," in order to ensure the safety of himself and his charge. Visitors were very rare, unless it was a friend who came to sojourn some time, and share a life in the wilderness. A traveller, however, occasionally found his way to the spot, in passing to or from "parts unknown," 298 Captftutp of 3T. Hm?ie, Mentor and such a one was sure of a hospitable and hearty welcome. A gentleman journeying from the south- ern settlements once arrived late in the eve- ning at Wolf Point, where was then the small establishment of George Hunt and a Mr. Wallace. He stopped and inquired if he could have accommodation for the night for himself and his horse. The answer was, that they were ill provided to entertain a stranger — the house was small, and they were keep- ing "bachelor's hall." "Is there no place," inquired the traveller, "where I can obtain a lodging?" "Oh! yes — you will find a very comfort- able house, Mr. Kinzie's, about half a mile below, near the mouth of the river." The stranger turned his horse's head and took the road indicated. Arrived at the spot, his first inquiry was: "Is this the residence of Mr. Kinzie?" "Yes, sir." "I should be glad to get accommodation for myself and horse." "Certainly, sir — walk in." The horse was taken to the stable, while the gentleman was ushered into a parlor where were two ladies. The usual prelimi- nary questions and answers were gone through, for in a new country people soon 299 ftfje "(Karl? 2Sap" in tfje Motfy-Mttit become acquainted, and the gentleman ere long found himself seated at a comfortable hot supper — we will venture to say a fine supper — since the table in this domestic establishment has always been somewhat famous. Apparently, the gentleman enjoyed it, for he made himself quite at home. He even called for a boot-jack after tea, and drew off his boots. The ladies were a little surprised, but they had lived a good while out of the world, and they did not know what changes in etiquette might have taken place during their retirement. Before taking his leave for the night, the traveller signified what it would please him to have for breakfast, which was duly prepared. The next day proved stormy. The gentleman was satisfied with his quar- ters, and having taken care to ascertain that there was no neglect, or deficiency of accommodation so far as his horse was con- cerned, he got through the day very com- fortably. Now and then, when he was tired of read- ing, he would converse with the family, and seemed, upon the whole, by no means dis- posed to hold himself aloof, but to indulge in a little becoming sociability, seeing they were all there away in the woods. 300 Captftutp of 3f. &tn?te, Mentor The second day the weather brightened. The traveller signified his intention to de- part. He ordered his horse to the door — then he called for his bill. "My house is not a tavern, sir," was the astounding reply. "Not a tavern! Good heavens! have I been making myself at home in this manner in a private family?" The gentleman was profuse in his apolo- gies, which, however, were quite unneces- sary, for the family had perceived from the first, the mistake he had fallen into, and they had amused themselves during his whole visit in anticipating the consternation of their guest when he should be undeceived. It was in the year 1816 (the same year of the rebuilding of the fort, after its de- struction by the Indians), that the tract of land on which Chicago stands, together with the surrounding country, was ceded to the United States, by the Pottowattamies. 97 97 In 1795 General Wayne had compelled the Indians to cede a tract of land six miles square at Chicago, and similar tracts at Peoria and the mouth of the Illinois, on which forts might be built to control the Chicago- Illinois River route from Lake Michigan to the Missis- sippi. Although the six-mile-square tract (on which Fort Dearborn was established in 1803) was never formally surveyed, it included approximately the area 301 GTfje "<£adp ©ap" in tfje MovfaWlt&t They remained the peaceful occupants of it, however, for twenty years longer. It was not until 1836 that they were removed by Gov- ernment to lands appropriated for their use on the I'pper Missouri. In the year 1830 the town of Chicago was laid out into lots by commissioners appointed by the State. At this time the prices of these lots ranged from ten to sixty dollars. Mr. Kinzie, who from the geographical position of this place, and the vast fertility of the surrounding country, had always fore- told its eventual prosperity and importance, was not permitted to witness the realization of his predictions. He closed his useful and energetic life on the 6th of January, 1828, having just completed his sixty-fifth year. between Fullerton Ave. and Thirty-first Street, extend- ing westward from the Lake to Forty-eighth Avenue. By a treaty concluded at Portage des Sioux, Aug. 24, 1 8 16, with the Potawatomi and allied tribes, title was secured to a wide strip of land from Lake Michigan to the Illinois, to permit the construction of the future canal. It is this latter treaty to which Mrs. Kinzie alludes. — Ed. 302 Chapter 21 A SERMON CHICAGO was not, at the period of my first visit, the cheerful, happy place it had once been. The death of Dr. Wol- cott, of Lieut. Furman, and of a promising young son of Mr. Beaubien, all within a few weeks of each other, had thrown a gloom over all the different branches of the social circle. The weather, too, was inclement and stormy, beyond anything that had been known before. Only twice, during a period of two months, did the sun shine out through the entire day. So late as the second week in April, when my husband had left to return to Fort Winnebago, the storms were so se- vere, that he and his men were obliged to lie by two or three days in an Indian lodge. Robert Kinzie, Medard Beaubien, 98 and Billy Caldwell had gone at the same time 98 Medard Beaubien was born about 1809, the son of Jean Baptiste Beaubien and a Potawatomi woman. When the Potawatomi were removed to the West in the thirties, he elected to share the fortunes of his mother's people. He was living at Silver Lake, Kansas, in Jan- uary, 1878, when he signed a long affidavit pertaining to his father's claim to the Fort Dearborn reservation. — Ed. 303 Wb* "Carlp ©ap" tn tfje &otfy=Wit&t to the Calumet to hunt, and as they did not make their appearance for many days, we were persuaded they had perished with cold. They returned at length, however, to our in- finite joy, having only escaped freezing by the forethought of Robert and Caldwell, in carrying each two blankets instead of one. Our only recreation was an occasional ride on horseback when the weather would per- mit, through the woods on the north side of the river, or across the prairie, along the lake shore on the south. When we went in the former direction, a little bridle-path took us along what is now Rush street. The thick boughs of the trees arched over our heads, and we were often compelled, as we rode, to break away the projecting branches of the shrubs which im- peded our path. The little prairie west of Wright's Woods, was the usual termination of our ride in this direction. When we chose the path across the prairie towards the south, we generally passed Dr. Harmon, superintending the construction of a sod fence, at a spot he had chosen, near the shore of the lake. In this inclosure he occupied himself, as the season advanced, in planting fruit stones of all descriptions, to make ready a garden and orchard for future enjoyment. 304 JS Sermon We usually stopped to have a little chat. The two favorite themes of the Doctor were horticulture, and the certain future impor- tance of Chicago. That it was destined to be a great city, was his unalterable conviction; and indeed, by this time, all forest and prai- rie as it was, we half began to believe it our- selves. On the pleasant afternoons which we oc- casionally enjoyed as the season advanced, we found no small amusement in practising pistol-firing. The place appropriated to this sport was outside the pickets, the mark be- ing placed on a panel in one of the bastions. The gentlemen must not be offended if I record that, in process of time, the ladies ac- quired a degree of skill that enabled them, as a general thing, to come off triumphant. One of the ladies was a great shot, having brought down her grouse on the wing, to the no small delight of Captain Scott — with re- gard to the others I am afraid it was more politeness than want of skill, which induced the gentlemen to yield the palm to them. Now and then there was a little excitement within the fort, aroused by the discovery that a settler had been engaged in selling milk-punch, instead of milk, to the soldiers, thereby interfering in no small degree with the regularity and perfect discipline of the 305 {E&e "€arlp ©ap" tn fte J?ortf)=f®e$t service. The first step was to "drum out" the offender with all the honors of war — that is, with a party-colored dress, and the Rogue's March played behind him. The next, to place all the victims of this piece of deception in the guard-house, where the Commanding Officer's lady supplied them bountifully with coffee and hot cakes, by way of opening their eyes to the enormity of their offence. It is not to be wondered at that the officers sometimes complained of its being more of a strife with the soldiers who should get into the guard-house, than who should keep out of it. The poor fellows knew when they were well off. Once, upon a Sunday, we were rowed up to "the point" to attend a religious service, conducted by Father S — ," as he was called. We saw a tall, slender man, dressed in a green frock coat, from the sleeves of which dangled a pair of hands giving abundant evidence, together with the rest of his dress, "William See was a blacksmith, who on occasion served as a Methodist exhorter, or lay preacher. Mrs. Kinzie's unsympathetic characterization represents the reaction of an Eastern woman of Episcopalian allegiance toward an exhibition of frontier Methodist preaching. The fact that Leah, daughter of William See, was the wife of James Kinzie, son of John Kinzie by his first wife, may have contributed something of zest to her description. — Ed. 306 9 Sermon that he placed small faith in the axiom — " cleanliness is a part of holiness." He stepped briskly upon a little platform behind a table, and commenced his discourse. His subject was, "The fear of God." ''There was a kind of fear," he told us, " that was very nearly a/ Jlap" in tf)e J^ortf)=Me*t We will not attempt to depict the grief of parents compelled thus to give up a darling child, and to leave her in the hands of sav- ages, whom until now they had too much reason to regard as merciless. But there was no alternative. Commending her to the care of their Heavenly Father, and cheered by the manifest tenderness with which she had thus far been treated, they sat out on their mel- ancholy journey homeward, trusting that some future effort would be more effectual for the recovery of their little girl. Having placed his family in safety at Pittsburg, Mr. Lytle, still assisted by the Commandant and the Indian Agent, under- took an expedition to the frontier to the residence of the British agent, Col. Johnson. His representation of the case warmly inter- ested the feelings of that benevolent officer, who promised him to spare no exertions in his behalf. This promise he religiously per- formed. He went in person to the village of the Big-White-Man, as soon as the opening of the spring permitted, and offered him many splendid presents of guns and horses, but the chief was inexorable. Time rolled on, and every year the hope of recovering the little captive became more faint. She, in the meantime, continued to wind herself more and more closely around 324 W&t Capttoe* the heart of her Indian brother. Nothing could exceed the consideration and affection with which she was treated, not only by him- self, but by his mother, the Old Queen. All their stock of brooches and wampum was employed in the decoration of her person. The principal seat and the most delicate vi- ands were invariably reserved for her, and no efforts were spared to promote her happi- ness, and to render her forgetful of her for- mer home and kindred. Thus, though she had beheld, with a feel- ing almost amounting to despair, the depar- ture of her parents and dear little brother, and had for a long time resisted every at- tempt at consolation, preferring even death to a life of separation from all she loved, yet time, as it ever does, brought its soothing balm, and she at length grew contented and happy. From her activity and the energy of her character, qualities for which she was remark- able to the latest period of her life, the name was given her of The Ship under full sail. The only drawback to the happiness of the little prisoner, aside from her longings after her own dear home, was the enmity she encountered from the wife of the Big-White- Man. This woman, from the day of her 315 Cfje "€atlp ®aj>" m tfje Moxti)=Wlz&t arrival at the village, and adoption into the family as a sister, had conceived for her the greatest animosity, which, at first, she had the prudence to conceal from the observation of her husband. It was perhaps natural that a wife should give way to some feelings of jealousy at see- ing her own place in the heart of her husband usurped, as she imagined, by the child of their enemy, the American. But these feel- ings were aggravated by a bad and vindic- tive temper, and by the indifference with which her husband listened to her complaints and murmurings. As she had no children of her own to en- gage her attention, her mind was the more engrossed and inflamed with her fancied wrongs, and with devising means for their redress. An opportunity of attempting the latter was not long wanting. During the absence of the Big-White-Man upon some war-party, or hunting excursion, his little sister was taken ill with fever and ague. She was nursed with the utmost ten- derness by the Old Queen, and the wife of the chief, to lull suspicion, and thereby ac- complish her purpose, was likewise unwea- ried in her assiduities to the little favorite. One afternoon, during the temporary ab- sence of the old Queen, her daughter-in-law 326 TOje Capttoes; entered the lodge with a bowl of something she had prepared, and stooping down to the mat on which the child lay, said, in an affec- tionate accent, "Drink, my sister, I have brought you that which will drive this fever far from you." On raising her head to reply, the little girl perceived a pair of eyes peeping through a crevice in the lodge, and fixed upon her with a very peculiar and significant expression. With the quick perception acquired partly from nature, and partly from her intercourse with this people, she replied faintly, "Set it down, my sister. When this fit of the fever has passed, I will drink your medi- cine. The squaw, too cautious to use importu- nity, busied herself about in the lodge for a short time, then withdrew to another, near at hand. Meantime, the bright eyes contin- ued peering through the opening, until they had watched their object fairly out of sight, then a low voice, the voice of a young friend and play-fellow spoke, "Do not drink that, which your brother's wife has brought you. She hates you, and is only waiting an opportunity to rid herself of you. I have watched her all the morning, and have seen her gathering the most deadly 3V {Kfje "earlp ®ap" in tfje Jlorrtj-Weat herbs. I knew for whom they were intended, and came hither to warn you." "Take the bowl," said the little invalid, "and carry it to my mother's lodge." This was accordingly done. The contents of the bowl were found to consist principally of a decoction of the root of the May-apple, the most deadly poison known among the Indians. It is not in the power of language to de- scribe the indignation that pervaded the little community when this discovery was made known. The squaws ran to and fro, as is their custom when excited, each vying with the other in heaping invectives upon the culprit. No further punishment was, however, for the present inflicted upon her, but the first burst of rage over, she was treated with silent abhorrence. The little patient was removed to the lodge of the Old Queen, and strictly guarded, while her enemy was left to wander in silence and solitude about the fields and woods, until the return of her husband should determine her punishment. In a few days, the excursion being over, the Big-White-Man and his party returned to the village. Contrary to the usual cus- tom of savages, he did not, in his first trans- port at learning the attempt on the life of his 328 ®fje Capttoe* little sister, take summary vengeance on the offender. He contented himself with banish- ing her from his lodge, never to return, and condemning her to hoe corn in a distant part of the large field or enclosure which served the whole community for a garden. Although she would still show her vindic- tive disposition whenever, by chance, the little girl with her companions wandered into that vicinity by striking at her with her hoe, or by some other spiteful manifestation, yet she was either too well watched, or stood too much in awe of her former husband to repeat the attempt upon his sister's life. Four years had now elapsed since the cap- ture of little Nelly. Her heart was by na- ture warm and affectionate, so that the un- bounded tenderness of those she dwelt among had called forth a corresponding feel- ing of affection in her heart. She regarded the Chief and his mother with love and rev- erence, and had so completely learned their language and customs as almost to have for- gotten her own. So identified had she become with the tribe, that the remembrance of her home and family had nearly faded from her memory; all but her mother — her mother whom she had loved with a strength of affection natural 329 0%e "earlp Bap" in rtje J?ortf)=$Ee£rt to her warm and ardent character, and to whom her heart still clung with a fondness that no time or change could destroy. The peace of 1783 between Great Britain and the United States now took place. A general pacification of the Indian tribes was the consequence, and fresh hopes were re- newed in the bosoms of Mr. and Mrs. Lytic They removed with their family to Fort \ agara, near which, on the American side, was the great Council Fire of the Senecas. Col. Johnson readily undertook a fresh ne- gociation with the Chief, but in order to ensure every chance of success, he again pro- ceeded in person to the village of the Big- White- Man. His visit was most opportune. It was the " least of the Green Corn," when he arrived among them. This observance which corre- sponds 90 strikingly with the Jewish feast of Tabernacles that, together with other cus- toms, it has led many to believe the Indian nations the descendants of the lost ten tribes of Israel, made it a season of general joy and festivity. All other occupations were suspended to give place to social enjoy- ment in the open air, or in arbors formed of the green branches of the trees. Every one appeared in his gala dress. That of the little adopted child consisted of a petticoat of 33° W$t Capttoe* blue broadcloth, bordered with gay-colored ribbons; a sack or upper garment of black silk, ornamented with three rows of silver brooches, the centre ones from the throat to the hem being of large size, and those from the shoulders down being no larger than a shilling-piece, and set as closely as possible. Around her neck were innumerable strings of white and purple wampum, an Indian or- nament manufactured from the inner surface of the muscle-shell. Her hair was clubbed behind, and loaded with beads of various colors. Leggings of scarlet cloth, and mocca- sins of deer-skin embroidered with porcupine quills, completed her costume. Col. Johnson was received with all the consideration due to his position, and to the long friendship that had subsisted between him and the tribe. Observing that the hilarity of the festival had warmed and opened all hearts, he took occasion in an interview with the chief to ex- patiate upon the parental affection which had led the father and mother of his little sister to give up their friends and home, and come hundreds of miles away, in the single hope of sometimes looking upon and em- bracing her. The heart of the chief softened as he listened to this representation, and he was induced to promise that at the Grand 331 Council soon to be held at Fort Niagara he would attend, bringing his little sister with him. He exacted a promise, however, from Col. Johnson, that not only no effort should be made to reclaim the child, but that even no proposition to part with her should be offered him. The time at length arrived when, her heart bounding with joy, little Nelly was placed on horseback to accompany her Indian brother to the great Council of the Senecas. She had promised him that she would never leave him without his permission, and he relied confidently on her word thus given. the chiefs and warriors arrived in suc- cessive bands to meet their father, the agent, at the council-fire, how did the anxious hearts of the parents beat with alternate hope and fear! The officers of the fort had kindly given them quarters for the time being, and the ladies, whose sympathies were strongly excited, had accompanied the mother to the place of council, and joined in her longing watch for the first appearance of the band from the Alleghany river. At length they were discerned, emerging from the forest on the opposite or American side. Boats were sent across by the Com- manding Officer, to bring the chief and his 33 2 %\>t Capttoe* party. The father and mother, attended by all the officers and ladies, stood upon the grassy bank awaiting their approach. They had seen at a glance that the little captive was with them. When about to enter the boat, the chief said to some of his young men, "stand here with the horses, and wait until I return." He was told that the horses should be fer- ried across and taken care of. "No," said he, "let them wait." He held his darling by the hand until the river was passed — until the boat touched the bank — until the child sprang forward into the arms of the mother from whom she had been so long separated. When the Chief witnessed that outburst of affection he could withstand no longer. "She shall go," said he. "The mother must have her child again. I will go back alone." With one silent gesture of farewell he turned and stepped on board the boat. No arguments or entreaties could induce him to remain at the council, but having gained the other side of the Niagara, he mounted his horse, and with his young men was soon lost in the depths of the forest. After a sojourn of a few weeks at Niagara, Mr. Lytle, dreading lest the resolution of the 333 TOje "Carl? ©ap" in fte j£ottf)=fflle£t Big-White-Man should give way, and meas- ures be taken to deprive him once more of his child, came to the determination of again changing his place of abode. He therefore took the first opportunity of crossing Lake Erie with his family, and settled himself in the neighbourhood of Detroit, where he con- tinued afterward to reside. Little Nelly saw her friend the Chief no more, but she never forgot him. To the day of her death she remembered with tender- ness and gratitude her brother the Big- White-Man, and her friends and playfellows among the Senecas. 334 CJmpter 23 SECOND SIGHT HICKORY CREEK AT the age of fourteen the heroine of AA the foregoing story married Captain -*• -*- McKillip, a British officer. This gentleman was killed near Fort Defiance, as it was afterward called, at the Miami Rap- ids, in 1794. A detachment of British troops had been sent down from Detroit, to take possession of this post. Gen. Wayne was then on a campaign against the Indians, and the British Government thought proper to make a few demonstrations in behalf of their allies. Having gone out with a party to reconnoitre, Captain McKillip was return- ing to his post after dark, when he was fired upon and killed by one of his own senti- nels. Mrs. Helm was the daughter of this marriage. During the widowhood of Mrs. McKillip she resided with her parents at Grosse Pointe, eight miles above Detroit, and it was during this period that an event occurred, which, from the melancholy and mysteri- ous circumstances attending it, was always dwelt upon by her with peculiar interest. 335 TOje "(Karlp ©ap" tn fye iBtortfj-fflest Her second brother, Thomas Lytle, was, from his amiable and affectionate character, the most dearly beloved by her of all the nu- merous family circle. He was paying his addresses to a young lady who resided at the river Trench,* as it was then called, now the river Thames, a stream emptying into Lake St. Clair, about twenty miles above Detroit. In visiting this young lady, it was his custom to cross the Detroit river by the ferry with his horse, and then proceed by land to the river Trench, which was, at some seasons of the year, a fordable stream. On a fine forenoon, late in the spring, he had taken leave of his mother and sister for one of these periodical visits, which were usu- ally of two or three days' duration. After dinner, as his sister was sitting at work by an open window which looked upon a little side enclosure filled with fruit-trees, she was startled by observing some object opposite the window, between her and the light. She raised her eyes and saw her brother Thomas. He was without his horse, and carried his saddle upon his shoulders. Surprised that she had not heard the gate opening for his entrance, and also at his singular appearance, laden in that manner, she addressed him, and inquired what had * From the French — Tranche^ a deep cut. 336 g>econb Hbtufrt — T&ickovp Creefe happened, and why he had returned so soon. He made her no reply, but looked earnestly in her face, as he moved slowly along the paved walk that led to the stables. She waited a few moments expecting he would reappear to give an account of him- self and his adventures, but at length, grow- ing impatient at his delay, she put down her work and went towards the rear of the house to find him. The first person she met was her mother. "Have you seen Thomas?" she inquired. "Thomas! He has gone to the River Trench." "No, he has returned — I saw him pass the window not fifteen minutes since." "Then he will be in presently." His sister, however, could not wait. She proceeded to the stables, she searched in all directions. No Thomas — no horse — no sad- dle. She made inquiry of the domestics. No one had seen him. She then returned and told her mother what had happened. "You must have fallen asleep and dreamed it," said her mother. "No, indeed! I was wide awake — I spoke to him, and he gave me no answer, but such a look!" All the afternoon she felt an uneasiness she could not reason herself out of. 337 Zi)t "earlp ©ap" in fte i£ortf)=We$t The next morning came a messenger from the River Trench with dismal tidings. The bodies of the young man and his horse had been found drowned a short distance be- low the ford of the river. It appeared that on arriving at the bank of the river, he found it swollen beyond its usual depth by the recent rains. It being neces- sary to swim the stream with his horse, he had taken off his clothes and made them into a packet which he fastened upon his shoul- ders. It was supposed that the strength of the rapid torrent displaced the bundle which thus served to draw his head under water and keep it there, without the power of raising it. All this was gathered from the position and appearance of the bodies when found. From the time at which he had been seen passing a house which stood near the stream, on his way to the ford, it was evident that he must have met his fate at the very mo- ment his sister saw, or thought she saw him, passing before her. I could not but suggest the inquiry, when these sad particulars were narrated to me. "Mother, is it not possible this might have been a dream?" "A dream? No, indeed my child. I was perfectly wide awake — as much so, as I am at this moment. I am not superstitious. I 33% g>econfci Hsngfjt — ©tcfeorp Creek have never believed in ghosts or witches, but nothing can ever persuade me that this was not a warning sent from God, to prepare me for my brother's death." And those who knew her rational good sense — her freedom from fancies or fears, and the calm self-possession that never de- serted her under the most trying circum- stances, would almost be won to view the matter in the light she did. The order for the evacuation of the post, and the removal of the troops to Fort How- ard (Green Bay), had now been received. The family circle was to be broken up. Our mother, our sister Mrs. Helm, and her little son, were to return with us to Fort Win- nebago — the other members of the family, except Robert, were to move with the com- mand to Green Bay. 100 Before the time for our departure, how- ever, Colonel Owen, 101 the new Indian x^gent, 100 The allusion to "other members" of the family refers to Mrs. Wolcott, and to Lieutenant David Hunter of the Fort Dearborn garrison (acting commandant since December, 1830, when Major Fowle entered upon a six-months' leave of absence) and his wife, Maria Indiana Kinzie. — Ed. 101 Thomas J. V. Owen was born in Kentucky, April 5,1801. Removing in early life to Randolph County, Illinois, he was elected to the state legislature in 1830, 339 ©fje "€arlp 2@ap" in tfje JBtortf)=We*t arrived to take up his residence at the place. Col. R. J. Hamilton, 102 also, on a visit of business, expressed his determination to make Chicago his future home. This may be considered the first impulse given to the place — the first step towards its subsequent unexampled growth and prosperity. The schooner Napoleon was to be sent from Detroit to convey the troops with their goods and chattels to their destined post. Our immediate party was to make the jour- ney by land — we were to choose, however, a shorter and pleasanter route than the one we had taken in coming hither. My hus- band with his Frenchmen, Petaille Grignon and Simon Lecuyer, had arrived, and all hands were now busily occupied with the and in 1 83 1 was appointed U. S. Indian agent at Chi- cago in succession to Dr. Alexander Wolcott. He was a member of the first board of trustees of the town, and one of the U. S. Commissioners who negotiated the Chicago Treaty of 1833. He died Oct. 15, 1835. —Ed. 102 Richard J. Hamilton, pioneer Chicago lawyer, was born near Danville, Ky., Aug. 21, 1799. He studied law, migrated to Jackson County, Illinois, in 1821 and to Chicago ten years later, having received the appoint- ment of first Probate Judge of Cook County. He also held several other offices, among them that of Com- missioner of School Lands, which devolved upon him the sale of the Chicago school section. He died Dec. 26, i860.— Ed. 340 g>econb gugftt — SMcfeorp Creefe necessary preparations for breaking up and removal. I should be doing injustice to the hospita- ble settlers of Hickory Creek were I to pass by, without notice, an entertainment with which they honored our Chicago beaux about this time. The merry-making was to be a ball, and the five single gentlemen of Chicago were invited. Mr. Dole, 103 who was a new- comer, declined — Lieut. Foster was on duty, but he did what was still better than accept- ing the invitation, he loaned his beautiful horse to Medard Beaubien, and he, with Robert Kinzie and Gholson Kercheval, promised themselves much fun in eclipsing the beaux and creating a sensation among the belles of Hickory Creek. 104 103 George W. Dole, pioneer merchant, came to Chicago in the spring of 1 83 1 . He was a member of the first Board of Trustees of the town, elected in August, 1833. — Ed. 104 Hickory Creek is a tributary of the Des Plaines in northwestern Will County. The settlement here was begun in 1829 by Aaron Friend and Joseph Brown. The ball which our author describes was at Friend's house. Following the organization of Cook County, in March, 1831, three voting precincts were established, one at Chicago, one at Hickory Creek, and one at the Du Page settlement. A month later, the first two highways out of Chicago were established by the new County Board of Supervisors, one to run by way of State Street and Archer Avenue to the house of Widow Brown on Hickory Creek. — Ed. 341 Cfje "Carl? ®ap" in fyt iBtorrt)=Mes;t Chicago was then, as now, looked upon as the City par excellence. Its few inhabitants were supposed to have seen something of the world, and it is to be inferred that the ar- rival of the smart and dashing young men was an event looked forward to with more satisfaction by the fair of the little settle- ment than by the swains whose rivals they might become. The day arrived and the gentlemen set off in high spirits. They took care to be in good season, for the dancing was to commence at two o'clock in the afternoon. They were well mounted, each priding himself upon the ani- mal he rode, and they wore their best suits, as became city gallants who were bent on cutting out their less fashionable neighbors, and breaking the hearts of the admiring country damsels. When they arrived at the place appointed, they were received with great politeness — their steeds were taken care of — a dinner provided them, after which they were ush- ered into the dancing-hall. All the beauty of the neighboring precincts was assembled. The ladies were for the most part white, or what passed for such, with an occasional dash of copper color. There was no lack of bombazet gowns and large white pocket-handkerchiefs, perfumed 342 gbeconb &igfyt — ?|tcfeorp Creefe with oil of cinnamon; and as they took their places in long rows on the puncheon floor, they were a merry and a happy company. But the city gentlemen grew more and more gallant — the girls more and more de- lighted with their attentions — the country swains, alas! more and more scowling and jealous. In vain they pigeon-winged and double-shuffled — in vain they nearly dislo- cated hips and shoulders at "hoe corn and dig potatoes" — they had the mortification to perceive that the smart young sprigs from Chicago had their pick and choose among their very sweethearts, and that they them- selves were fairly danced off the ground. The revelry lasted until daylight, and it was now time to think of returning. There was no one ready with obliging politeness to bring them their horses from the stable. "Poor fellows!" said one of the party, with a compassionate sort of laugh, "they could not stand it. They have gone home to bed!" " Serves them right," said another, " they'd better not ask us down among their girls again!" They groped their way to the stable and went in. There were some animals standing at the manger, but evidently not their horses. What could they be? Had the rogues been 343 fcfje "€arlp Bap" in tfje ilortft-JUeSt trying to cheat them, by putting these strange nondescripts into their placer They led them forth into the gray of the morning, and then, such a trio as met their gaze! There were the original bodies, it is true, but where were their manes, and tails? A scrubby, picketty ridge along the neck, and a bare stump projecting behind were all that remained of the flowing honors with which they had come gallivanting down to "bear away the bell" at Hickory Creek, or, in the emphatic language of the country, "to take the rag off the bush." Gholson sat down on a log and cried out- right. Medard took the matter more philo- sophically — the horse was none of his — it was Lieut. Foster's. Robert characteristically looked around to see whom he could knock down on the occa- sion, but there was no one visible on whom to wreak their vengeance. The bumpkins had stolen away, and in some safe, quiet nook, were snugly enjoying their triumph, and doubtless the deceitful fair ones were, by this time, sharing their mirth and exultation. The unlucky gallants mounted their steeds, and set their faces homeward. Never was there a more crestfallen and sorry-looking 344 cavalcade. The poor horses seemed to real- ize that they had met the same treatment as the messengers of King David at the hands of the evil-disposed Hanun. They hung their heads, and evidently wished that they could have " tarried at Jericho" for a season. Unfortunately there was in those days, no back way by which they could steal in, unobserved. Across the prairie, in view of the whole community must their approach be made, and to add to their con- fusion, in the rarity of stirring events, it was the custom of the whole settlement to turn out and welcome the arrival of any new-comer. As hasty a retreat as possible was beaten, amid the shouts, the jeers, and the condo- lences of their acquaintances, and it is on record that these three young gentlemen were in no hurry to accept, at any future time, an invitation to partake of the festivi- ties of Hickory Creek. In due time the Napoleon made her ap- pearance. (Alas ! that this great name should be used in the feminine gender!) As there was at this period no harbor, vessels an- chored outside the bar, or tongue of land which formed the left bank of the river, and the lading and unlading were carried on by 345 tKbe "Carty Jlap" in tfje J^orti)=Wetft boats, pulling in and out, through the mouth of the river, some distance below. Of course it always was a matter of great importance to get a vessel loaded as quickly as possible that she might be ready to take advantage of the first fair wind, and be off from such an exposed and hazardous anchor- ing ground. For this reason we had lived packed up for many days, intending only to see our friends safe on board, and then commence our own journey. Our heavy articles of furniture, trunks, &c, had been sent on board the Napoleon to be brought round to us by way of Fox River. We had retained only such few nec- essaries as could be conveniently carried on a pack-horse, and in a light dearborn wagon 106 lately brought by Mr. Kercheval from Detroit (the first luxury of the kind ever seen on the prairies), and which my husband had purchased as an agreeable mode of conveyance for his mother and lit- tle nephew. 1C5 A dearborn wagon (so named for its designer) was a vehicle with top and side curtains, designed for pas- senger travel. Although in practically universal use for a generation or more toward the middle of the nine- teenth century, it is now extremely difficult to procure a more precise description of the vehicle than the one here set forth. — Ed. 346 g>econb gugfjt — ^tcfeorp Creek It was a matter requiring no small amount of time and labor to transport, in the slow method described, the effects of so many families of officers and soldiers — the company's stores, and all the various et ceteras incident to a total change and removal. It was all, however, happily ac- complished — everything, even the last arti- cle sent on board — nothing remaining on shore but the passengers, whose turn it was next. It was a moment of great relief, for Capt. Hinckley had been in a fever and a fuss many hours, predicting a change of weather, and murmuring at what he thought the un- necessary amount of boat-loads to be taken on board. Those who had leisure to be looking out toward the schooner which had continued anchored about half a mile out in the lake, had, at this crisis, the satisfaction to see her hoist sail and leave her station for the open lake — those who were a little later could just discern her bearing away to a distance, as if she had got all on board that she had any idea of taking. Here we were, and here we might remain a week or more, if it pleased Capt. Hinckley and the schooner Napoleon, and the good east wind which was blowing with all its might. 347 Zi)t "Carl? JBap" in tfje J3torrt)=aSe£t There was plenty of provisions to be ob- tained, so the fear of starvation was not the trouble, but how were the cooking and the table to be provided for? Various expedients were resorted to. Mrs. Engle, in her quar- ters above stairs, ate her breakfast off a shingle with her husband's jack-knife, and when she had finished, sent them down to Lieut. Foster for his accommodation. We were at the old mansion on the north side, and the news soon flew up the river that the Napoleon had gone off with "the plun- der," and left the people behind. It was not long before we were supplied by Mrs. Por- tier (our kind Victoire), 106 with dishes, knives, forks, and all the other conveniences which our mess-basket failed to supply. This state of things lasted a couple of days, and then, early one fine morning the gratify- ing intelligence spread like wild-fire that the Napoleon was at anchor out beyond the bar. 106 Mrs. Victoire Porthier was the mixed-blood daughter of Jean Baptiste Mirandeau, early Milwau- kee trader, and his Indian wife. In 1828 she married Joseph Porthier whom she later described as "a French- man, and a kind of blacksmith." She lived to an ad- vanced age, her later years being spent at Milwaukee, her childhood home. She and several of her brothers and sisters were long intimately associated with the Kinzie family in the capacity of employees and house- hold servants. — Ed. 348 g>econb gugftt — ^icfeorp Creefe There was no unnecessary delay this time, and at an early hour in the afternoon we had taken leave of our dear friends, and they were sailing away from Chicago.* * It is a singular fact that all the martins, of which there were great numbers occupying the little houses constructed for them by the soldiers, were observed to have disappeared from their homes on the morning fol- lowing the embarkation of the troops. After an absence of five days they returned. They had perhaps taken a fancy to accompany their old friends, but, finding they were not Mother Carey's chickens, deemed it most prudent to return and re-occupy their old dwellings. 349 Chapter 24 RETURN TO FORT WINNEBAGO A GREAT part of the command, with the cattle belonging to the officers ■ and soldiers, had a day or two previ- ous to the time of our departure, set out on their march by land to Green Bay, via Fort Winnebago. Lieut. Foster, under whose charge they were, had lingered behind that he might have the pleasure of joining our party, and we, in turn, had delayed in order to see the other members of our family safely on board the Napoleon. But now, all things being ready, we set our faces once more homeward. We took with us a little bound-girl, Josette (a daughter of Ouilmette, a Frenchman who had lived here at the time of the Massacre, and of a Pottowattamie mother), a bright, pretty child of ten years of age. She had been at the St. Joseph's mission-school, un- der Mr. McCoy, 107 and she was now full of delight at the prospect of a journey all the 107 The allusion is to the Baptist Indian school and mission established near Xiles, Michigan, by Rev. Isaac McCoy in 1822, known as the Carey Mission. 350 Return to Jfort Jlmnetmgo way to the Portage with Monsieur and Ma- dame John. We had also a negro boy, Harry, brought a year before from Kentucky, by Mr. Kerche- val. In the transfer at that time from a slave State to a free one, Harry's position be- came somewhat changed — he could be no more than an indentured servant. He was about to become a member of Dr. Wolcott's household, and it was necessary for him to choose a guardian. All this was explained to him on his being brought into the parlor, where the family were assembled. My hus- band was then a young man, on a visit to his home. "Now, Harry," it was said to him, "you must choose your guardian;" and the natural expectation was that Harry would select the person of his acquaintance of the greatest age and dignity. But, rolling round his great eyes, and hanging his head on one side, he said, "I'll have Master John for my guardian." From that day forward Harry felt as if he belonged, in a measure, to Master John, and at the breaking up of the family in Chicago he was, naturally, transferred to our estab- lishment. The advance of white settlement into southern Michi- gan caused the abandonment of the enterprise about the year 1829. — Ed. 351 Zi)t "€arlp ®ap" m tfje Movti)=W}t*t There were three ladies of our travelling party — our mother, our sister Mrs. Helm, and myself. To guard against the burning effect of the sun and the prairie winds upon our faces, I had, during some of the last days of my visit, prepared for each of us a mask of brown linen, with the eyes, nose, and mouth fitted to accommodate our features; and to enhance the hideousness of each, I had worked eye-brows, lashes, and a circle around the opening for the mouth in black silk. Gathered in plaits under the chin, and with strings to confine them above and be- low, they furnished a complete protection against the sun and wind, though nothing can be imagined more frightful than the ap- pearance we presented when fully equipped. It was who should be called the ugliest. We left amid the good wishes and laugh- ter of our few remaining acquaintances, of whom we now took leave. Our wagon had been provided with a pair of excellent trav- elling horses, and sister Margaret and my- self accommodated with the best pacers the country could afford, and we set off in high spirits toward the Aux Plaines — our old friend, Billy Caldwell (the Sau-ga-nash), with our brother Robert and Gholson Ker- cheval accompanying us to that point of our journey. 3S* Return to jfovt (Umnebago There was no one at Barney Lawton's when we reached there, but a Frenchman and a small number of Indians. The latter in their eagerness to say "bonjour," and shake hands with Shaw-nee-aw-kee, passed us by, apparently without observation, so my sister and I dismounted and entered the dwelling, the door of which stood open. Two Indians were seated on the floor smoking. They raised their eyes as we appeared, and never shall I forget the expression of wonder and horror depicted on the countenances of both. Their lips relaxed until the pipe of one fell upon the floor. Their eyes seemed starting from their heads, and raising their outspread hands, as if to wave us from them, they slowly ejaculated, " Manitou!" (a spirit). As we raised our masks, and, smiling, came forward to shake hands with them, they sprang to their feet and fairly uttered a cry of delight at the sight of our familiar faces. "Bonjour, bonjour, Maman!" was their salutation, and they instantly plunged out of doors to relate to their companions what had happened. Our afternoon's ride was over a prairie stretching away to the north-east. No liv- ing creature was to be seen upon its broad 353 GTlje "€arlp Bap" in tfje j£orrt)=M3e£t expanse, but flying and circling over our heads were innumerable flocks of curlews, "Screaming their wild notes to the listening waste." Their peculiar shrill cry of "crack, crack, crack — rackety, rackety, rackety," repeated from the throats of dozens as they some- times stooped quite close to our ears, became at length almost unbearable. It seemed as if they had lost their senses in the excitement of so unusual and splendid a cortege in their hitherto desolate domain. The accelerated pace of our horses as we ap- proached a beautiful, wooded knoll, warned us that this was to be our place of repose for the night. These animals seem to know by instinct a favorable encamping-ground, and this was one of the most lovely imaginable. The trees which near the lake had, owing to the coldness and tardiness of the season, presented the pale-yellow appearance of un- fledged goslings, were here bursting into full leaf. The ground around was carpeted with flowers — we could not bear to have them crushed by the felling of a tree and the pitch- ing of our tent among them. The birds sent forth their sweetest notes in the warm, lin- gering sunshine, and the opening buds of the young hickory and sassafras filled the air with perfume. 354 Return to Jfort Winnebago Nothing could be more perfect than our enjoyment of this sylvan and beautiful re- treat* after our ride in the glowing sun. 108 The children were in ecstacies. They de- lighted to find ways of making themselves useful — to pile up the saddles — to break boughs for the fire — to fill the little ket- tles with water for Petaille and Lecuyer, the Frenchmen who were preparing our supper. Their amusement at the awkward move- ments of the horses after they were span- celled knew no bounds. To Edwin 109 every- thing was knew, and Josette, who had already made more than one horseback journey to St. Joseph's, manifested all the pride of an old traveller in explaining to him whatever was novel or unaccountable. *It is now known as Dunkley's Grove. 108 Duncklee's Grove was at Bloomingdale, where Hezekiah Duncklee, a native of New Hampshire, established his home in the summer of 1833. In 1836 this was made the starting-point of the State Road to Galena. — Ed. 109 William Edwin Helm, only son of Lieutenant Linai T. Helm and Margaret McKillip, was born Oct. 18, 1 821, apparently at Chicago. At the time of this journey he was not yet ten years of age. He lived in Detroit for a time, following his mother's marriage to Dr. Lucius Abbott in 1836, and still later in Chicago. He served in the Civil War, and afterwards lived in St. Louis. — Ed. 3SS GTfje "€arlp 2Sap" in tfje MoxfaWltXt They were not the last to spring up at the call "how! how!" on the following morning. The fire was replenished, the preparations for breakfast commenced, and the French- men dispatched to bring up the horses in readiness for an early start. Harry and Josette played their parts, under our direction, in preparing the simple meal, and we soon seated ourselves, each with cup and knife, around the table-mat. The meal was over, but no men, no horses appeared. When another half hour had passed, my husband took Harry and commenced explor- ing in search of the missing ones. The day wore on, and first one and then another would make his appearance to re- port progress. Petaille and Lecuyer at length brought two of the horses, but the others could nowhere be found. In time, Mr. Kin- zie and Harry returned, wet to their knees by the dew upon the long prairie-grass, but with no tidings. Again the men were dis- patched after having broken their fast, but returned as unsuccessful as before. The morning had been occupied by our party at the encampment in speculating upon the missing animals. Could they have been stolen by the Indians? Hardly — these people seldom committed robberies in time of peace — never upon our family, whom they 356 Return to Jfort Winnebago regarded as their best friends. The horses would doubtless be found. They had prob- ably been carelessly fastened the preceding evening, and therefore been able to stray fur- ther than was their wont. A council was held, at which it was de- cided to send Grignon back to Chicago to get some fresh horses from Gholson Kerche- val, and return as speedily as possible. If on his return our encampment were deserted, he might conclude we had found the horses and proceeded to Fox River, where he would doubtless overtake us. Upon reflection, it was thought best to send him once more in the direction of Salt Creek, when, if still unsuccessful, the former alternative could be adopted. He had not been gone more than an hour, before, slowly hopping out of a point of woods to the north of us (a spot which each of the seekers averred he had explored over and over again), and making directly for the place where we were, appeared the vexatious animals. They came up as demurely as if nothing had happened, and seemed rather surprised to be received with a hearty scold- ing, instead of being patted and caressed as usual. It was the work of a very short half-hour to strike and pack the tent, stow away the 357 Q$e "<£arlp ©ap" tn tfje J|ortf)=3He$t mats and kettles, saddle the horses and mount for our journey. 11 Whoever pleases may take my place in the carriage," said our mother. " I have travelled so many years on horseback, that I find any other mode of conveyance too fatiguing." So, spite of her sixty years, she mounted sister Margaret's pacer with the activity of a girl of sixteen. Lieut. Foster had left us early in the morn- ing, feeling it necessary to rejoin his com- mand, and now, having seen us ready to set off, with a serene sky above us, and all things 11 right and tight " tor the journev, our friend, the Sau-ga-nash took leave of us, and re- traced his steps towards Chicago. We pursued our way through a lovely country of alternate glade and forest, until we reached the Fox river. The current ran clear and rippling along, and as we de- scended the steep bank to the water, the question, so natural to a traveller in an un- known region, presented itself, "Is it ford- abler" Petaille, to whom the ground was familiar, had not yet made his appearance. Lecuyer was quite ignorant upon the subject. The troops had evidently preceded us by this very trail. True, but they were on horse- back — the difficulty was, could we get the 358 Return to Jfort Winnebago carriage through? It must be remembered, that the doubt was not about the depth of the water, but about the hardness of the bot- tom of the stream. It was agreed that two or three of the equestrians should make the trial first. My mother, Lecuyer and myself, advanced cau- tiously across to the opposite bank, each choosing a different point for leaving the wa- ter, in order to find the firmest spot. The bot- tom was hard and firm until we came near the shore, then it yielded a little. With one step however, we were each on dry ground. "Est-il beau?" called my husband, who was driving. "Oui, Monsieur." " Yes, John, come just here, it is perfectly good." "No, no — go a little further down. See the white gravel just there — it will be firmer still, there." Such were the contradictory directions given. He chose the latter, and when it wanted but one step more to the bank, down sunk both horses, until little more than their backs were visible. The white gravel proved to be a bed of treacherous yellow clay, which gleaming through the water, had caused so unfortu- nate a deception. 359 Wqt "Carlp ©ap" in ti)t J&ortft=ffle£t With frantic struggles, for they were nearly suffocated with mud and water, the horses made desperate efforts to free themselves from the harness. My husband sprang out upon the pole. "Some one give me a knife," he cried. I was back in the water, in a mo- ment, and approaching as near as I dared, handed him mine from the scabbard around my neck. " Whatever you do, do not cut the traces," cried his mother. He severed some of the side-straps, when just as he had reached the extremity of the pole, and was stretching forward to separate the head-couplings, one of the horses gave a furious plunge, which caused his fellow to rear, and throw himself nearly backwards. My husband was between them. For a mo- ment we thought he was gone — trampled down by the excited animals, but he pres- ently showed himself nearly obscured by the mud and water. With the agility of a cat, Harry, who was near him, now sprung for- ward on the pole, and in an instant, with his sharp jack-knife which he had ready, di- vided the straps that confined their heads. The horses were at this moment lying floating on the water — one apparently dead, the other as if gasping out his last breath. But hardly did they become sensible of the 360 Return to jfovt Mtnnefaago release of their heads from bondage than they made simultaneously, another furious effort to free themselves from the pole to which they were still attached by the neck- strap. Failing in this, they tried another expedi- ent, and by a few judicious twists and turns, succeeded in wrenching the pole asunder, and finally carried it off in triumph across the river again, and up the bank, where they stood waiting to decide what were the next steps to be taken. Here was a predicament ! A few hours be- fore we had thought ourselves uncomfort- able enough, because some of our horses were missing. Now, a greater evil had befallen us. The wagon was in the river, the harness cut to pieces, and, what was worse, carried off in the most independent manner, by Tom and his companion; the pole was twisted to pieces, and there was not so much as a stick on that side of the river with which to re- place it. At this moment, a whoop from the oppo- site bank, echoed by two or three hearty ones from our party, announced the re-appearance of Petaille Grignon. He dismounted and took charge of the horses, who were resting themselves after their fatigues under a shady tree, and by this time Lecuyer had crossed 361 H\)t "€arlp 2Sap" m tfje jBLortfcMefirt the river and now joined him in bringing back the delinquents. In the meantime we had been doing our best to minister to our sister Margaret. Both she and her little son Edwin had been in the wagon at the time of the accident, and it had been a work of some difficulty to get them out and bring them on horseback to shore. The effect of the agitation and excitement was to throw her into a fit of the ague, and she now lay blue and trembling among the long grass of the little prairie, which ex- tended along the bank. The tent which had been packed in the rear of the wagon, was too much saturated with mud and water to admit of its being used as a shelter; it could only be stretched in the sun to dry. We opened an umbrella over our poor sister's head, and now began a discussion of ways and means to repair damages. The first thing was to cut a new pole for the wagon, and for this, the master and men must re- cross the river and choose an iron-tree out of the forest. Then, for the harness. With provident care, a little box had been placed under the seat of the wagon, containing an awl, waxed- ends, and various other little conveniences exactly suited to an emergency like the present. 362 JXetum to Jfort Mmnebago It was a question and answer, like Cock Robin: "Who can mend the harness?" "I can, for I learned when I was a young girl to make shoes as an accomplishment, and I can surely now, as a matter of usefulness and duty, put all those wet, dirty pieces of leather together." So, w r e all seated ourselves on the grass, under the shade of the only two umbrellas we could muster. I stitched away diligently, blistering my hands, I must own, in no small degree. A suitable young tree had been brought, and the hatchets, without which one never travels in the woods, were all busy, fashion- ing it into shape, when a peculiar hissing noise was heard, and instantly the cry, " Un serpent sonnette! A rattlesnake!" All sprang to their feet, even the poor shaking invalid, just in time to see the reptile glide past within three inches of my mother's feet, while the men assailed the spot it had left with whips, missives, and whatever would help along the commotion. This little incident proved an excellent remedy for the ague. One excitement drives away another, and by means of this, (upon the homcepathic principle), sister Margaret was so much improved that by the time all the mischiefs were repaired, she was ready to 3(>3 {Efje "earlp Sap" in tfje jBtortf)=JHe$t take her place in the cavalcade, as bright and cheerful as the rest of us. So great had been the delay occasioned by all these untoward circumstances, that our afternoon's ride was but a short one, bring- ing us no further than the shores of a beauti- ful sheet ot water, now known as Crystal Lake. Its clear surface was covered with Loons, and Pouies e(e Crow," "the Little Priest," and several others of the principal chiefs of the Rock River Indians. They seemed greatly disap- pointed at learning that their father was from home, even though his errand was to get " the silver." We sent for Paquette, who interpreted for us the object of their visit. They had come to inform us that the Sac Chief, Black Hawk and his band, who, in compliance with a former treaty, had re- moved sometime previous to the west of the Mississippi, had now returned to their old homes and hunting grounds, and expressed a determination not to relinquish them, but to drive off the white settlers who had begun to occupy them. The latter, in fact, he had already done, and having, as it was said, induced some of the Pottowattamies to join him, there was reason to fear that he might persuade some of the Winnebagoes to follow their example. These chiefs had come to counsel with their father, and to assure him that they should do all in their power to keep their young men quiet. They had heard that troops were being raised down among the whites in Illinois, and they had hopes that their people would be wise enough to keep out of difficulty. Furthermore, they begged that their father, on his return, would see 407 £f)e "<£arlp Bap" fa tfte Bortf)=£He£t that the soldiers did not meddle with them, so long as they remained quiet and behaved in a friendly manner. White Crow seemed particularly anxious to impress it upon me, that if any danger should arise in Shaw-nee-aw-kee's absence, he should come with his people to protect me and my family. I relied upon his assurances, for he had ever shown himself an upright and honorable Indian. Notwithstanding this, the thoughts of "In- dian troubles" so near us, in the absence of our guardian and protector, occasioned us many an anxious moment, and it was not un- til we learned of the peaceable retreat of the Sacs and Foxes, west of the Mississippi, that we were able wholly to lay aside our fears. We were now called to part with our friends, Major Twiggs and his family, which we did with heartfelt regret. He gave me a few parting words about our old acquaint- ance, Christman. "When I went into the barracks the other day," said he, "about the time the men were taking their dinner, I noticed a great six-foot soldier standing against the window-frame, crying and blubbering. 'Halloo,' said I, 'what on earth does this mean?' "'Why, that fellow there,' said Christman (for it was he), 'has scrowged me out of my 408 place!' A pretty soldier your protege will make, madam!" I never heard any more of my hero. Whether he went to exhibit his prowess against the Seminoles and Mexicans, or whether he returned to till the fertile soil of his native German Flats, and blow his fa- vorite boatman's horn, must be left for some future historian to tell. There is one more character to be disposed of — Louisa. An opportunity offering in the Spring, the Major had placed her under the charge of a person going to Buffalo, that she might be returned to her parents. In compli- ment to the new acquaintances she had formed, she shortened her skirts, mounted a pair of scarlet leggins, embroidered with por- cupine quills, and took her leave of military life, having deposited with the gentleman who took charge of her, sixty dollars, for safe keeping, which she remarked ''she had saved up, out of her wages at a dollar a week through the winter." A very short time after we were settled in our new home at the Agency, we attempted the commencement of a little Sunday School. Edwin, Harry and Josette, were our most re- liable scholars, but besides them, there were the two little Manaigres, Therese Paquette, 409 Gtye "earlp ©ap" in fte J?orrt)=ffle*t and her mother's half sister, Florence Cour- ville, a pretty young girl of fifteen. None of these girls had even learned their letters. They spoke only French, or rather, the Ca- nadian patois, and it was exceedingly diffi- cult to give them at once the sound of the words, and their signification, which they were careful to inquire. Besides this, there was the task of correcting the false ideas, and remedying the ignorance and superstition which presented so formidable an obstacle to rational improvement. We did our best, however, and had the satisfaction of seeing them, after a time, making really respectable progress with their spelling-book, and what was still more encouraging, acquiring a de- gree of light and knowledge in regard to bet- ter things. In process of time, however, Florence was often absent from her class. "Her sister," she said, "could not always spare her. She wanted her to keep house while she, herself, went over on Sunday to visit her friends, the Roys, who lived on the Wisconsin." We reasoned with Madame Paquette on the subject. "Could she not spare Florence on some hour of the day? We would gladly teach her on a week day, for she seemed anx- ious to learn, but we had always been told that for that there was no time." 410 Zi)t Cut=J?o*e ''Well — she would see. Madame Allum (Helm) and Madame John, were so kind!" There was no improvement, however, in regularity. After a time Manaigre was in- duced to send his children to Mr. Cadle's mission-school at Green Bay. Therese ac- companied them, and very soon Florence dis- continued her attendance altogether. We were obliged, from that time forward, to confine our instructions to our own domes- tic circle. 411 Chapter 28 INDIAN CUSTOMS AND DANCES BEFORE we had any right to look for my husband's return, I one day re- ceived a message inviting me to come up to the new house. We all went in a body, for we had purposely staid away a few days, expecting this summons, of which we antici- pated the meaning. Plante, in full glee, was seated astride of a small keg on the roof, close beside the kitchen chimney, on the very summit of which he had planted a green bough. To this he held fast with one hand, while he exultingly waved the other and called out, "EM bien, Madame John! a cette heure, pour le rigalV "Yes, Plante, you are entitled to a treat, and I hope you will not enjoy it the less that Pillon and Manaigre are to share it with >> you. A suitable gratification made them quite contented with their " bourgeoise" against whom Plante had sometimes been inclined to grumble, "because," as he said, "she had him called up too early in the morning." He 412 3fobian Custom* anb ©ante* might have added, because, too, she could not understand the philosophy of his coming in to work in his own garden, under the plea that it was too wet and rainy to work in Monsieur John's. It was with no ordinary feelings of satis- faction, that we quitted the old log tenement for our new dwelling, small and insignificant though it was. I was only too happy to enjoy the luxury of a real bed-chamber, in place of the parlor floor which I had occupied as such for more than two months. It is true that our culi- nary arrangements were still upon no im- proved plan. The clay chimney was not of sufficient strength to hold the trammel and pot-hooks, which, at that day had not been quite superseded by the cooking-stove and kitchen-range. Our fire was made as in the olden time, with vast logs behind, and smaller sticks in front, laid across upon the andirons or dogs. Upon the sticks were placed such of the cooking-utensils as could not be accom- modated on the hearth, but woe to the din- ner or the supper, if through a little want of care or scrutiny one treacherous piece was suffered to burn away. Down would come the whole arrangement — kettles, saucepans, burning brands and cinders, in one almost inextricable mass. How often this happened 413 Cfie "<£arlp ©ap" in tfte Bortf)=iiHest under the supervision of Harry or little Jo- sette, while the mistress was playing lady to some visitor in the parlor, "'twere vain to tell." Then, spite of Mons. Plante's palisades round the chimney, in a hard shower the rain would come pelting down, and, the hearth unfortunately sloping a little the wrong way, the fire would become extinguished; while the bark on the roof, failing to do its dutv, we were now and then so completely deluged, that there was no resource but to catch up the breakfast or dinner and tuck it under the table until better times — that is, till fair weather came again. In spite of all these little adverse occurrences, however, we en- joyed our new quarters exceedingly. Our garden was well furnished with vege- tables, and even the currant bushes which we had brought from Chicago with us, tied in a bundle at the back of the carriage, had pro- duced us some fruit. The Indian women were very constant in their visits and their presents. Sometimes it was venison — sometimes ducks or pigeons — whortleberries, wild plums, or cranberries, according to the season — neat pretty mats for the floor or the table — wooden bowls or ladles, fancy work of deer-skin or porcupine quills. These they would bring in and throw 414 Sntuan Custfomg anb 29ance£ at my feet. If through inattention I failed to look pleased, to raise the articles from the floor and lay them carefully aside, a look of mortification and the observation, "Our mother hates our gifts," showed how much their feelings were wounded. It was always expected that a present would be received graciously, and returned with something twice its value. Meantime, week after week wore on, and still was the return of "the master" de- layed. The rare arrival of a schooner at Green Bay, in which to take passage for Detroit, made it always a matter of uncertainty what length of time would be necessary for a jour- ney there and back again — so that it was not until the last of August that he again reached his home. Great was his surprise to find us so nicely "moved and settled," and under his active supervision, the evils of which we had to complain were soon remedied. My husband had met at Fort Gratiot, and brought with him, my young brother, Julian, whom my parents were sending, at our re- quest, to reside with us. Edwin was over- joyed to have a companion once more, for he had hitherto been very solitary. They soon had enough to occupy their attention, for, in obedience to a summons sent to the different 415 Cfje "Carlp 3Bap" in tfje MovfyMtetit villages, the Indians very shortly came flock- ing in to the payment. There was among their number this year, one whom I had never seen before — the mother of the elder Day-kau-ray. No one could tell her age, but all agreed that she must have seen upwards of a hundred win- ters. Her eyes dimmed, and almost white with age — her face dark and withered, like a baked apple — her voice tremulous and fee- ble, except when raised in fury to reprove her graceless grandsons, who were fond of playing her all sorts of mischievous tricks, indicated the very great age she must have attained. She usually went upon all fours, not hav- ing strength to hold herself erect. On the day of the payment, having received her por- tion, which she carefully hid in the corner of her blanket, she came crawling along and seated herself on the door-step, to count her treasure. My sister and I were watching her move- ments from the open window. Presently, just as she had, unobserved as she thought, spread out her silver before her, two of her descendants came suddenly upon her. At first they seemed begging for a share, but she repulsed them with angry gestures, when one of them made a sudden swoop, and possessed himself of a tolerable handful. 416 Sntuan Custfomtf anb Banted She tried to rise, to pursue him, but was unable to do more than clutch the remain- der, and utter the most unearthly screams of rage. At this instant the boys raised their eyes and perceived us regarding them. They burst into a laugh, and with a sort of mock- ing gesture they threw her the half-dollars, and ran back to the pay-ground. I think there was but little earnest in their vexatious tricks, for she seemed very fond of them, and never failed to beg something of "her father," that she could bestow upon them. She crept into the parlor one morning, when straightening herself up, and support- ing herself by the frame of the door, she cried in a most piteous tone — " Shaw-nee-aw-kee ! Wau-tshob-ee-rah Thsoonsh-koo-nee-noh ! " (Silver-man, I have no looking-glass.) Her "father" smiling and taking up the same little tone, cried in return, " Do you wish to look at yourself, Mother ?" The idea seemed to her so irresistibly comic, that she laughed until she was fairly obliged to seat herself upon the floor and give way to her enjoyment. She then owned that it was for one of the boys that she wanted the little mirror. When her father had given it to her, she found that she had "no comb," then that she had "no knife," then that she 417 GPfje "€arlp ©ap" in tfje J|ortf)=ffleat had "no calico shawl," until it ended, as it generally did, by Shaw-nee-aw-kee paying pretty dearly for his joke. When the Indians arrived and when they departed, my sense of " woman's rights " was often greatly outraged. The master of the family, as a general thing, came leisurely bearing his gun and perhaps a lance in his hand. The woman, with the mats and poles of her lodge upon her shoulders, her pap- poose, if she had one, her kettles, sacks of corn, and wild rice, and not unfrequently, the household dog perched on the top of all. If there is a horse or pony in the list of family possessions, the man rides, the squaw trudges after. This unequal division of labor is the result of no want of kind, affectionate feeling on the part of the husband. It is rather the in- stinct of the sex to assert their superiority of position and importance, when a proper oc- casion offers. When out of the reach of ob- servation, and in no danger of compromising his own dignity, the husband is willing enough to relieve his spouse from the burden that custom imposes on her, by sharing her labors and hardships. The payment had not passed without its appropriate number of complimentary and 418 Subtan Custom* anb ©ante* medicine dances. The latter take place only at rare intervals — the former whenever an occasion presents itself — demanding a mani- festation of respect and courtesy. It is the custom to ask permission of the person to be complimented, to dance for him. This granted, preparation is made by paint- ing the face elaborately, and marking the person, which is usually bare about the chest and shoulders, after the most approved pat- tern. All the ornaments that can be mus- tered, are added to the hair, or head dress. Happy is he, who, in virtue of having taken one or more scalps, is entitled to proclaim it by a corresponding number of eagle's feath- ers. The less fortunate make a substitute of the feathers of the wild turkey, or, better still, of the first unlucky "rooster" that falls in their way. My poor fowls, during the time of payment, were always thoroughly plucked. When their preparations are completed, the dancers assemble at some convenient place, and then come marching to the spot appointed, accompanied by the music of the Indian drum and shee-shee-qua or rattle. They range themselves in a circle and dance with violent contortions and gesticulations, some of them graceful, others only energetic, the squaws, who stand a little apart, and 419 Cfje "earlp Bap" in fte J?orrt)=WeSt mingle their discordant voices with the music of the instruments, rarely participating in the dance. Occasionally, however, when ex- cited by the general gaiety, a few of them will form a circle outside and perform a sort of ungraceful, up and down movement, which has no merit, save the perfect time which is kept, and for which, the Indians seem, with- out exception, to possess a natural ear. The dance finished, which is only when the strength of the dancers is quite exhausted, a quantity of presents are brought and placed in the middle of the circle, by order of the partv complimented. An equitable distribu- tion is made, by one of their number; and the object of all this display having been accom- plished, they retire. The medicine-dance is carried on chiefly to celebrate the skill of the " Medicine-man " in curing diseases. This functionary belongs to a fraternity who are supposed to add to their other powers some skill in interpreting the will of the Great Spirit in regard to the con- duct of his people. He occasionally makes offerings and sacrifices which are regarded as propitiatory. In this sense, the term "priest " may be deemed applicable to him. He is also a "prophet" in so far as he is, in a lim- ited degree, an instructor, but does not claim to possess the gift of foretelling future events. 420 Sntnan Custom* anb ®anceg A person is selected to join the fraternity of the " Medicine-man " by those already ini- tiated, chiefly on account of some skill or sagacity that has been observed in him. Sometimes it happens that a person who has had a severe illness which has yielded to the prescriptions of one of the members, is con- sidered a proper object of choice from a sort of claim thus established. When he is about to be initiated, a great feast is made, of course at the expense of the candidate, for in the most simple, as in the most civilized life, the same principle of poli- tics holds good, "honors must be paid for." An animal is killed and dressed, of which the people at large partake — there are dances and songs and speeches in abundance. Then the chief Medicine-man takes the candidate and privately instructs him in all the ceremonies and knowledge necessary to make him an ac- complished member of the fraternity. Some- times the new member selected is still a child. In that case he is taken by the Medicine-man so soon as he reaches a proper age, and quali- fied by instruction and example to become a creditable member of the fraternity. Among the Winnebagoes, there seems a considerable belief in magic. Each Medicine- man has a bag or sack, in which is supposed to be enclosed some animal, to whom in the 421 Cfje "(Earl? ©ap" in tfje &Qttt)=WitXt course of their pow-wows, he addresses him- self, crying to him in the note common to his imagined species. And the people seem to be persuaded that the answers which are an- nounced are really communications in this form, from the Great Spirit. 118 The Indians appear to have no idea of a retribution beyond this life. They have a strong appreciation of the great, fundamen- tal virtues of natural religion — the worship of the Great Spirit, brotherly love, parental affection, honesty, temperance and chastity. Any infringement of the laws of the Great Spirit, by a departure from these virtues, they believe will excite his anger, and draw down punishment. These are their princi- ples. That their practice evinces, more and more, a departure from them, under the debasing influences of a proximity to the whites, is a melancholy truth, which no one will admit with so much sorrow as those who lived among them, and esteemed them, a quarter of a century ago, before this signal change had taken place. One of the first improvements that sug- gested itself about our new dwelling, had m An interesting description of this procedure is given by Alexander Henry in his Travels and Adventures, pp. 161-66, the Lakeside Classics volume for 1921. — Ed. 422 Snbian Custom* anb Bance* been the removal of some very unsightly pickets surrounding two or three Indian graves, on the esplanade in front of the house. Such, however, is the reverence in which these burial-places are held, that we felt we must approach the subject with great deli- cacy and consideration. My husband at length ventured to pro- pose to Mrs. "Pawnee Blanc," the nearest surviving relative of the persons interred, to replace the pickets with a neat wooden plat- form. The idea pleased her much, for through her intimacy in Paquette's family, she had acquired something of a taste for civilization. Accordingly a little structure about a foot in height, properly finished with a moulding around the edge, was substituted for the worn and blackened pickets, and it was touching to witness the mournful satisfac- tion with which two or three old crones would come regularly every evening at sun- set, to sit and gossip over the ashes of their departed relatives. On the fine, moonlight nights too, there might often be seen a group sitting there, and enjoying what is to them a solemn hour, for they entertain the poetic belief that ''the moon was made to give light to the dead." 423 m>t "eatlp Bap" in tije J&ortf)=Jae£t The reverence of the Indians for the mem- ory of their departed friends, and their duti- ful attention in visiting and making offerings to the Great Spirit, over their last resting- places, is an example worthy of imitation among their more enlightened brethren. Not so, however, with some of their customs in relation to the dead. The news of the decease of one of their number is a signal for a general mourning and lamentation — it is also, in some in- stances, I am sorry to say, when the means and appliances can be found, the apology for a general carouse. The relatives weep and howl for grief — the friends and acquaintances bear them com- pany through sympathy. A few of their number are deputed to wait upon their "fa- ther," to inform him of the event, and to beg some presents "to help them," as they ex- press it, "dry up their tears." We received such a visit one morning, not long after the payment was concluded. A little drunken Indian, named by the French people around, "Old Boilvin," from his resemblance to an Indian Agent of that name at Prairie du Chien, was the person on account of whose death the application was made. "He had been fishing," they said, "on the shores of one of the little lakes near the 424 Snbtan Customs anb JBances Portage, and having taken a little too much 'whiskee,' had fallen into the water and been drowned." Nothing of him had been found but his blanket on the bank, so there could be no funeral ceremonies, but they were pre- pared to make a great lamentation about him. Their father presented them with tobacco, knives, calico and looking-glasses, in propor- tion to what he thought might be their rea- sonable grief at the loss of such a worthless vagabond, and they departed. There was no difficulty, notwithstanding the stringent prohibitions on the subject, in procuring a keg of whiskey from some of the traders who yet remained, so armed with that and their other treasures, they assem- bled at an appointed spot, not far from the scene of the catastrophe, and sitting down with the keg in their midst, they commenced their affliction. The more they drank the more clamorous became their grief, and the faster flowed their tears. In the midst of these demonstrations a little figure, bent and staggering, covered with mud and all in disorder, with a coun- tenance full of wonder and sympathy, ap- proached them and began, " Why ? what ? what ? Who's dead ? " "Who! dead?" repeated they, looking up in astonishment, "Why, you're dead! you 425 Wqz "<£arlp ®ap" tn tfje j£ortf)=?Uegt were drowned in Swan Lake! Did not we find your blanket there? Come, sit down and help us mourn." The old man did not wait for a second in- vitation. He took his seat and cried and drank with the rest, weeping and lamenting as bitterly as any of them, and the strange scene was continued as long as they had power to articulate, or any portion of the whiskev was left. 426 Chapter 29 STORY OF THE RED FOX THE Indians, of whatever tribe, are exceedingly fond of narrating or lis- tening to tales and stories, whether historical or fictitious. They have their pro- fessed story-tellers, like the oriental nations, and these go about, from village to village, collecting an admiring and attentive audi- ence, however oft-told and familiar the mat- ter they recite. It is in this way that their traditions are preserved and handed down unimpaired from generation to generation. Their knowledge of the geography of their country is wonder- fully exact. I have seen an Indian sit in his lodge, and draw a map in the ashes, of the North-Western States, not of its statistical but its geographical features, lakes, rivers, and mountains, with the greatest accuracy, giving their relative distances, by day's jour- neys, without hesitation, and even extending his drawings and explanations as far as Ken- tucky and Tennessee. Of biography they preserve not only the leading events in the life of the person, but 427 {Efte "€arlp ®ap" tn tfje J|orrt)=aaeSt his features, appearance and bearing, his manners, and whatever little trait or pecu- liarity characterized him. The women are more fond of fiction, and some of their stories have a strange mingling of humor and pathos. I give the two which follow as specimens. The Indian names con- tained in them are in the Ottawa or "Courte Oreilles " language, but the same tales are cur- rent in all the different tongues and dialects. STORY OF THE RED FOX This is an animal to which many peculiar- ities are attributed. He is said to resemble the jackal in his habit of molesting the graves of the dead, and the Indians have a supersti- tious dread of hearing his bark at night, be- lieving that it forebodes calamity and death. They say, too, that he was originally of one uniform reddish-brown color, but that his legs became black in the manner related in the story. There was a chief of a certain village who had a beautiful daughter. He resolved upon one occasion to make a feast, and invite all the animals. When the invitation was brought to the red fox he inquired, "What are you going to have for supper?" " Mee-dau-mee-nau-bo" was the reply. 428 g>torp of tfte &eb Jfox This is a porridge made of parched corn, slightly cracked. The fox turned up his little sharp nose. "No, I thank you," said he, "I can get plenty of that at home." The messenger returned to the chief, and reported the contemptuous refusal of the fox. "Go back to him," said the chief, "and tell him we are going to have a nice fresh body,* and we will have it cooked in the most delicate manner possible." Pleased with the prospect of such a treat, the fox gave a very hearty assent to the sec- ond invitation. The hour arrived, and he set off for the lodge of the chief to attend the feast. The company were all prepared for him, for they made common cause with their friend who had been insulted. As the fox entered, the guest next the door with great courtesy rose from his place, and begged the new comer to be seated. Immediately the person next him also rose, and insisted that the fox should oc- cupy his place, as it was still nearer the fire — the post of honor. Then the third, with many expressions of civility, pressed him to exchange with him, and thus, with many *The Indians in relating a story like this, apologize for alluding to a revolting subject. "You will think this unpleasant" they say. 429 tTfje "€arlp ®ap" in tfte MovfaWlt&t ceremonious flourishes, he was passed along the circle, always approaching the fire, where a huge cauldron stood, in which the good cheer was still cooking. The fox was by no means unwilling to occupy the highest place in the assembly, and besides, he was anxious to take a peep into the kettle, for he had his suspicions that he might be disappointed of the delicacies he had been expecting. So, by degrees, he was ushered nearer and nearer the great blazing fire, until by a dex- terous push and shove he was hoisted into the seething kettle. His feet were dreadfully scalded, but he leaped out, and ran home to his lodge, howl- ing and crying with pain. His grandmother, with whom, according to the custom of ani- mals, he lived, demanded of him an account of the affair. When he had faithfully related all the circumstances (for, unlike the civilized animals, he did not think of telling his grand- mother a story), she reproved him very strongly. "You have committed two great faults," said she. "In the first place you were very rude to the chief who was so kind as to invite you, and by returning insult for civil- ity, you made yourself enemies who were determined to punish you. In the next place, it was very unbecoming in you to be 430 g>torp of tfje &eb Jfox so forward to take the place of honor. Had you been contented modestly to keep your seat near the door, you would have escaped the misfortune that has befallen you." All this was not very consolatory to the poor fox, who continued to whine and cry most piteously, while his grandmother, hav- ing finished her lecture, proceeded to bind up his wounds. Great virtue is supposed to be added to all medical prescriptions and appli- cations by a little dancing, so, the dressing having been applied, the grandmother fell to dancing with all her might, round and round in the lodge. When she was nearly exhausted, the fox said, " Grandmother, take off the bandages and see if my legs are healed. " She did as he requested, but no — the burns were still fresh. She danced and danced again. Now and then, as he grew impatient, she would remove the coverings to observe the effect of the remedies. At length, to- wards morning, she looked, and, to be sure, the burns were quite healed. "But oh!" cried she, "your legs are as black as a coal! They were so badly burned that they will never return to their color!" The poor fox, who, like many another brave, was vain of his legs, fell into a trans- port of lamentation. 431 ftfje "earl? 2Sap" in tfje JlortfhMletft "Oh! my legs! My pretty red legs! What shall I do? The young girls will all despise me. I shall never dare to show myself among them again!" He cried and sobbed until his grandmother, fatigued with her exercise, fell asleep. By this time he had decided upon his plan of re- venge. He rose and stole softly out of his lodge, and pursuing his way rapidly towards the village of the chief, he turned his face in the direction of the principal lodge and barked. When the inhabitants heard this sound in the stillness of the night, their hearts trem- bled. They knew that it foreboded sorrow and trouble to some one of their number. A very short time elapsed before the beau- tiful daughter of the chief fell sick, and she grew rapidly worse and worse, spite of medi- cines, charms, and dances. At length she died. The fox had not intended to bring mis- fortune on the village in this shape, for he loved the beautiful daughter of the chief, so he kept in his lodge and mourned and fretted for her death. Preparations were made for a magnificent funeral, but the friends of the deceased were in great perplexity. "If we bury her in the earth," said they, "the fox will come and disturb her remains. He has barked her to 432 g>torp of tfje &eb Jfox death, and he will be glad to come and finish his work of revenge." They took counsel together, and deter- mined to hang her body high in a tree as a place of sepulture. They thought the fox would go groping about in the earth, and not lift up his eyes to the branches above his head. But the grandmother had been at the fu- neral, and she returned and told the fox all that had been done. "Now, my son," said she, "listen to me. Do not meddle with the remains of the Chief's daughter. You have done mischief enough already — leave her in peace." As soon as the grandmother was asleep at night, the fox rambled forth. He soon found the place he sought, and came and sat un- der the tree where the young girl had been placed. He gazed and gazed at her, all the live-long night, and she appeared as beautiful as when in life. But when the day dawned, and the light enabled him to see more clearly, then he observed that decay was doing its work — that instead of a beautiful, she presented only a loathsome appearance. He went home sad and afflicted, and passed all the day mourning in his lodge. "Have you disturbed the remains of the Chief's beautiful daughter?" was his par- ent's anxious question. 433 GTJje "Carl? ®ap" in tfje Mov^Mt^t "No, grandmother," — and he uttered not another word. Thus it went on for many days and nights. The fox always took care to quit his watch at the early dawn of day, for he knew that her friends would suspect him, and come be- times to see if all was right. At length he perceived that, gradually, she looked less and less hideous in the morning light, and that she by degrees, resumed the appearance she had presented in life, so that in process of time, her beauty and look of health quite returned to her. One day he said, " Grandmother, give me my pipe, that I may take a smoke." "Ah!" cried she, "you begin to be com- forted. You have never smoked since the death of the chief's beautiful daughter. Have you heard some good news?" "Never you mind," said he, "bring the pipe." He sat down and smoked, and smoked. After a time he said, "Grandmother, sweep your lodge and put it all in order, for this day you will receive a visit from your daughter- in-law. The grandmother did as she was desired. She swept her lodge, and arranged it with all the taste she possessed, and then both sat down to await the visit. 434 H>torp of tfje &eb Jfox "When you hear a sound at the door," said the Fox, "you must give the salutation, and say, Come in." When they had been thus seated for a time, the grandmother heard a faint, rustling sound. She looked towards the door. To her surprise, the mat which usually hung as a curtain was rolled up, and the door was open. " Peen-tee-geen n'dau-nis!"* cried she. Something like a faint, faint shadow ap- peared to glide in. It took gradually a more distinct outline. As she looked and looked, she began to discern the form and features of the Chief's beautiful daughter, but it was long before she appeared like a reality, and took her place in the lodge like a thing of flesh and blood. They kept the matter hid very close, for they would not for the world that the father or friends of the bride should know what had happened. Soon, however, it began to be ru- mored about that the chief's beautiful daugh- ter had returned to life, and was living in the Red Fox's lodge. How it ever became known was a mystery, for, of course, the grandmother never spoke of it. Be that as it may, the news created great excitement in the village. "This must never *Come in, my daughter. 435 be,'* said they all. "He barked her to death once, and who knows what he may do next time." The father took at once a decided part. "The Red Fox is not worthy of my daugh- ter," he said. "I had promised her to the Hart, the finest and most elegant among the animals. Now that she has returned to life, I shall keep my word." So the friends all went in a body to the lodge of the Red Fox. The bridegroom, the bride and the grandmother, made all the re- sistance possible, but they were overpowered by numbers, and the Hart having remained conveniently waiting on the outside where there was no danger, the beautiful daughter of the chief was placed upon his back, and he coursed away through the forest to carry her to his own home. When he arrived at the door of his lodge, however, he turned his head, but no bride was in the place where he expected to see her. He had thought his burden very light from the beginning, but that he supposed was natural to spirits re- turned from the dead. He never imagined she had at the outset glided from her seat, and in the midst of the tumult slipped back, unobserved, to her chosen husband. One or two attempts were made by the friends, after this, to repossess themselves of 436 g>torp of tfje 3&eb jfox the young creature, but all without success. Then they said, "Let her remain where she is. It is true the Red Fox occasioned her death, but by his watchfulness and care he caressed her into life again; therefore she rightfully belongs to him." So the Red Fox and his beautiful bride lived long together in great peace and happiness. 437 Chapter 30 STORY OF SHEE-SHEE-BANZE THERE was a young man named Shee- shee-banze (the Little Duck), paddling his canoe along the shore of the lake. Two girls came down to the edge of the water, and seeing him, the elder said to the younger, "Let us call to him to take us a sail." It must be remarked that in all Indian stories where two or more sisters are the dramatis personam, the elder is invariably represented as silly, ridiculous and disgust- ing — the younger, as wise and beautiful. In the present case the younger remon- strated. "Oh! no," said she, "let us not do such a thing. What will he think of us?" But the other persevered, and called to him, "Ho! come and take us into your canoe." The young man obeyed, and approaching the shore, he took them with him into the canoe. "Who are you?" asked the elder sister. "I am Way -gee -mar-kin" replied he, "the great Chief." This Way-gee-mar-kin was something of a fairy, for when surrounded by his followers, 438 g>torp of g>fjee=g>fjee=28an?e and wishing to confer favors on them, he had a habit of coughing slightly, when there would fly forth from his mouth quantities of silver brooches, ear-bobs and other orna- ments, for which it was the custom of his people to scramble, each striving, as in more civilized life, to get more than his share. Accordingly, the elder sister said, "If you are Way-gee-mar-kin, let us see your cough." Shee-shee-banze had a few of these silver ornaments which he had got by scrambling, and which he kept stowed away in the sides of his mouth in case of emergency. So he gave some spasmodic coughs and brought forth a few, which the girl eagerly seized. After a time, as they paddled along, a fine noble elk came forth from the forest, and ap- proached the water to drink. "What is that?" asked the spokeswoman; for the younger sister sat silent and modest all the time. "It is my dog that I hunt with." "Call him to us, that I may see him." Shee-shee-banze called, but the elk turned and fled into the woods. "He does not seem to obey you, however." "No, it is because you inspire him with disgust, and therefore he flies from you." Soon a bear made his appearance by the water's edge. 439 Cfje "€arlp ®ap" in tfje Moxti)=Wit&t "What is that?" "One of my servants." Again he was requested to call him, and as the call was disregarded, the same reason as before was assigned. Their excursion was at length ended. There had been a little magic in it, for although the young girls had supposed themselves to be in a canoe, there was, in reality, no canoe at all. They only imagined it to have been so. Now Shee-shee-banze lived with his grand- mother, and to her lodge he conducted his young friends. They stood outside while he went in. "Grandmother," said he, "I have brought you two young girls, who will be your daugh- ters-in-law. Invite them into your lodge." Upon this, the old woman called, "Ho! come in," and they entered. They were made welcome and treated to the best of everything. In the meantime, the real Way-gee-mar- kin, the great chief, made preparations for a grand feast. W 7 hen he was sending his mes- senger out with the invitations, he said to him, "Be very particular to bid Shee-shee- banze to the feast, for as he is the smallest and meanest person in the tribe, you must use double ceremony with him, or he will be apt to think himself slighted." 440 g>torp of £s>f)ee=£s>f)ee=28an?e Shee-shee-banze sat in his lodge with his new friends, when the messenger arrived. "Ho! Shee-shee-banze," cried he, "you are invited to a great feast that Way-gee-mar- kin is to give tonight, to all his subjects." But Shee-shee-banze took no notice of the invitation. He only whistled, and pretended not to hear. The messenger repeated his words, and finding that no attention was paid to them, he went his way. The young girls looked at each other, dur- ing this scene, greatly astonished. At length the elder spoke. "What does this mean?" said she. "Why does he call you Shee-shee-banze, and invite you to visit Way-gee-mar-kin?" "Oh!" said Shee-shee-banze, "it is one of my followers that always likes to be a little impudent. I am obliged to put up with it sometimes, but you observed that I treated him with silent contempt." The messenger returned to the chief, and reported the manner in which the invitation had been received. "Oh!" said the good-natured chief, "it is because he feels he is poor and insignificant. Go back again — call him by my name, and make a flourishing speech to him." The messenger fulfilled his mission as he was bid. 441 Zf)t "<£arlp ©ap" tn tfje ilortf)=£&e*t "Way-gee-mar-kin," said he, pompously, "a great feast is to be given to-night, and I am sent most respectfully to solicit the honor of your company!" " Did I not tell you ? " said Shee-shee-banze to the maidens. Then nodding with careless condescension, he added, "Tell them I'll come." At night, Shee-shee-banze dressed himself in his very best paint, feathers and orna- ments — but before his departure he took his grandmother aside. " Be sure," said he, "that you watch these young people closely until I come back. Shut up your lodge tight, tight. Let no one come in or go out, and above all things, do not go to sleep." These orders given, he went his way. The grandmother tried her best to keep awake, but finding herself growing more and more sleepy, as the night wore on, she took a strong cord and laced across the mat which hung before the entrance to the lodge, as the Indians lace up the mouths of their bags, and having seen all things secure and the girls quiet in bed, she laid down and soon fell into a comfortable sleep. The young girls, in the meanwhile, were dying with curiosity to know what had be- come of Shee-shee-banze, and as soon as 442 gbtorp of IH)ee=g>f)ee=JiJan?e they were sure the old lady was asleep, they prepared to follow him, and see what was going on. Fearing, however, that the grand- mother might awake and discover their absence, they took two logs of wood, and putting them under the blanket, so dis- posed them as to present the appearance of persons sleeping quietly. They then cut the cords that fastened the door, and, guided by the sounds of the music, the dancing, and the merry-making, they soon found their way to the dwelling of Way-gee-mar- kin. When they entered, they saw the chief seated on a throne, surrounded by light and splendor. Everything was joy and amuse- ment. Crowds of courtiers were in the apart- ment, all dressed in the most brilliant array. The strangers looked around for their friend Shee-shee-banze, but he was nowhere to be seen. Now and then the chief would cough, when a shower of silver ornaments and pre- cious things would fly in all directions, and in- stantly, a scramble would commence among the company, to gather them up and appro- priate them. As they thus rushed forward, the brides elect saw their poor little friend crowded up into a corner, where nobody took any notice of him, except to push him 443 Cfte "Carl? ®ap" in tfje J^artf)=WlesSt aside, or step on him whenever he was in the way. He uttered piteous little squeaks as one and another would thus maltreat him, but he was too busy taking care of himself to perceive that those whom he had left snug at home in the lodge were witnesses of all that was going on. At length the signal was given for the com- pany to retire, all but the two young dam- sels, upon whom Way-gee-mar-kin had set his eye, and to whom he had sent, by one of his assistants, great offers to induce them to remain with him and become his wives. Poor Shee-shee-banze returned to his lodge, but what was his consternation to find the door open ! "Ho! grandmother," cried he "is this the way you keep watch?" The old woman started up. "There are my daughters-in-law," said she, pointing to the two logs of wood. Shee-shee-banze threw himself on the ground between them. His back was broken by coming so violently in contact with them, but that he did not mind — he thought only of revenge, and the recov- ery of his sweethearts. He waited but to get some powerful poison and prepare it, and then he stole softly back to the wigwam of Way-gee-mar-kin. All was silent, and he crept in without making the g^torp of £^f)ee=iM)ee=J8an?e slightest noise. There lay the chief, with a young girl on each side of him. They were all sound asleep, the chief lying on his back, with his mouth wide open. Before he was aware of it, the poison was down his throat, and Shee-shee-banze had retreated quietly to his own lodge. The next morning the cry went through the village that Way-gee-mar-kin had been found dead in his bed. Of course it was at- tributed to over indulgence at the feast. All was grief and lamentation. "Let us go and tell poor Shee-shee-banze," said one, " he was so fond of Way-gee-mar-kin." They found him sitting on a bank fish- ing. He had been up at peep of day, to make preparation for receiving the intelli- gence. He had caught two or three fish, and, ex- tracting their bladders, had filled them with blood, and tied them under his arm. When the friends of Way-gee-mar-kin saw him, they called out to him, "Oh! Shee-shee-banze, your friend, W 7 ay- gee-mar-kin, is dead!" With a gesture of despair, Shee-shee-banze drew his knife and plunged it, not into his heart, but into the bladders filled with blood that he had pre- pared. As he fell, apparently lifeless to the ground, the messengers began to reproach 445 GDfje "€arlp ©ap" in ttje Moxti)=Wit&t themselves: "Oh! why did we tell him so suddenly? We might have known he would not survive it. Poor Shee-shee-banze! he loved Way-gee-mar-kin so." To their great surprise, the day after the funeral, Shee-shee-banze came walking to- ward the wigwam of the dead chief. As he walked, he sang, or rather chaunted to a mo- notonous strain* the following: Way-gee-mar-kin is dead, is dead, I know who killed him. I guess it was I — I guess it was I. All the village was aroused. Every body flew in pursuit of the murderer, but he evaded them, and escaped to a place of safety. Soon after, he again made his appearance, mincing as he walked, and singing to the same strain as before, If you wish to take and punish me, Let the widows come and catch me. It seemed a good idea, and the young women were recommended to go and entice the culprit into the village, so that the friends of the deceased could lay hold of him. They went forth on their errand. Shee- shee-banze would suffer them to approach, *The Indians sing these words to an air peculiar to themselves. 446 ibtorp of £H)ee=g>f)ee=?8an?e then he would dance off a little — now he would allow them to come quite near; anon he would retreat a little before them, all the time singing, Come, pretty widows, come and catch me. Thus he decoyed them on, occasionally using honied words and flattering speeches, until he had gained their consent to return with him to his lodge, and take up their abode with him. The friends of the murdered chief were scandalized at such inconstancy, and re- solved to punish all three, as soon as they could catch them. They surrounded his lodge with cries and threatenings, but Shee-shee-banze and his two brides had contrived to elude their vigi- lance and gain his canoe, which lay in the river, close at hand. Hardly were they on board, when their escape was discovered. The whole troop flew after them. Some plunged into the stream, and seized the canoe. In the strug- gle it was upset, but immediately on touch- ing the water, whether from the magical properties of the canoe, or the necroman- tic skill of the grandmother, they were transformed into ducks, and flew quacking away. 447 Zi)t "Carlp JBap" in tfte Movti)=lEc&t Since that time, the water-fowl of this spe- cies, are always found In companies of three — two females and a male. The Canard de France, or Mallard, and the Brancheuse, or Wood Duck, arc of differ- ent habits from the foregoing, flying in pairs. Indeed, the constancy of the latter is said to he so great that if he loses his mate he never takes another partner, but goes mourning to the end of his days. 44 8 Chapter 31 A VISIT TO GREEN BAY MAU-ZHEE-GAW- GAW SWAMP THE payment over, and the Indians dispersed, we prepared ourselves to settle down quietly in our little home. But now a new source of disturbance arose. My husband's accounts of disbursements as Agent of the Winnebagoes, which he had forwarded to the Department at Washing- ton, had failed to reach there, of which he received due notice — that is to say, such a notice as could reach us by the circuitous and uncertain mode of conveyance by which intercourse with the eastern world was then kept up. If the vouchers for the former ex- penditures, together with the recent pay- ment of $i 5,000, annuity money, should not be forthcoming, it might place him in a very awkward position, so he decided to go at once to Washington, and be the bearer him- self of his duplicate accounts. " Should you like to go and see your father and mother," said he to me, one morning, "and show them how the west agrees with you?" 449 It was a most joyful suggestion after a year's separation, and in a few days all things were in readiness for our departure. There was visiting us, at that time, Miss Brush, of Detroit, who had come from Green Bay with Mr. and Mrs. Whitney and Miss Frances Henshaw, on an excursion to the Mississippi. 119 Our little india-rubber house had contrived to expand itself for the accom- modation of the whole party during the very pleasant visit they made us. The arrival of two young ladies, was, as may be imagined, quite a godsend to the unmarried lieutenants, and when, tired of the journey, or intimidated by the snow which fell eight inches on the 4th of Octo- ber, Miss Brush determined to give up the remainder of her excursion, and accept our pressing invitation to remain with us, until 119 Daniel Whitney was a native of New Hampshire who settled at Green Bay in 18 17 and became a promi- nent and successful business man of pioneer Wisconsin. Frances Henshaw was his wife's sister. One of his business associates was Charles R. Brush of Green Bay, son of Elijah Brush of Detroit, one of the early and prominent lawyers of that city. On Oct. 15, 1833, Charles R. Brush married Jane Forsyth of Detroit, daughter of Robert A. Forsyth, one of John Kinzie's half-brothers. The "Miss Brush" of our narrative was Archange, a younger sister of Charles R. Brush. She was born at Detroit, March 21, 1813, and was therefore about nineteen years old at this time. — Ed. 450 1-Xtsrit to (Sreen J8ap the return of her friends, we were looked upon as public benefactors. She was now to accompany us to Green Bay, and possibly to Detroit. Our voyage down the river was without incident, and we reached Green Bay just as all the place was astir in the expectation of the arrival of one of Mr. Newberry's schoon- ers. 120 This important event was the subject of interest to the whole community, from Fort Howard to "Dickinson's." To some its arrival would bring friends, to some sup- plies — to the ladies, the fashions, to the gen- tlemen, the news, for it was the happy bearer of the mails, not for that place alone, but for all the "upper country." 120 The Newberry family is notable in the annals of both Detroit and Chicago. Oliver Newberry was a native of East Windsor, Conn., who about the year 1 8 14 engaged in trade at Buffalo. In 1820 he removed to Detroit, where he lived until his death, July 30, 1862. About the year 1825 he became interested in lake shipping, and within a few years was the owner of a fleet of vessels, besides warehouses, docks, and ship- ping establishments at various points around the lakes. He was one of the first to sense the impending growth of Chicago; he opened a store here in 1829 and sent John S. C. Hogan from Detroit to operate it. Four years later, Walter L. Newberry, his younger brother, settled at Chicago, where he became a successful busi- ness man. A portion of his large fortune was used to found the Newberry Library. — Ed. 451 tWje "€arlp ©ap" in tije J|ortf)=ffle£t In a few days the vessel arrived. ' She brought a mail for Fort Winnebago, which in the winter season only was carried by land to that place, via Niks' Settlement and Chicago. In virtue of his office as Post Master, my husband opened the mail-bag, and took pos- session of his own letters. One informed him of the satisfactory appearance of the miss- ing accounts, but oh! sad disappointment, another brought the news that my parents had gone to Kentucky for the winter — not to any city or accessible place, but up "the Sandy," and over among the mountains of Virginia, hunting up old land claims be- longing to my grandfather's estate. It was vain to hope to follow them. We might hardly expect to find them during the short period we could be absent from home — not even were we to receive the lucid di- rections once given my father by an old set- tler during his explorations through that wild region. "You must go up Tug" said the man, "and down Troublesome > and fall over on to Kingdom-come"* We did not think it advisable to undertake such an expedition, so we made up our minds to retrace our steps to Fort W 7 innebago. * Three streams or water-courses of that region. 452 "Wi&it to (green J@ap No boats were in readiness to ascend the river. Hamilton Arndt promised to have one in preparation at once, but time passed by, and no boat was made ready. It was now the beginning of November. We were passing our time very pleasantly with the Irwins and Whitneys, and at the residence of Colonel Stambaugh, 121 the In- dian agent, but still this delay was inconven- ient and vexatious. I suggested undertaking the journey on horseback. ''No, indeed," was the answer I invariably received. "No mortal woman has ever gone that road, unless it was on foot, nor ever could." "But suppose we set out in the boat and get frozen in on the way. We can neither pass the winter there, nor possibly find our way to a human habitation. We have had one similar experience already. Is it not 121 Major Robert Irwin, a native of Ireland who grew to manhood in Pennsylvania, served in the army from 1812 to 1 821. The following year he settled at Green Bay, where he died in 1851. His sons, Alexander and Robert Jr., were long prominent residents of Green Bay. Samuel C. Stambaugh had but recently come to the Bay, having received the appointment of Indian Agent from President Jackson. An unfavorable estimate of his character and abilities is given by Morgan L. Mar- tin in Wis. Hist. Colls., XI, 392.— Ed. 453 Efje "aufe Mat him to make a second journey, and bring it up in sleighs — with so great an expense of time, labor, and exposure, were the necessaries of life conveyed from one point to another, through that wild and desolate region! The arrival of my brother Arthur from Kentucky, by way of the Mississippi, in the latter part of April, brought us the uncom- fortable intelligence of new troubles with the Sauks and Foxes. Black Hawk had, with the flower of his nation, recrossed the Missis- sippi, once more to take possession of their old homes and cornfields.* It was not long before our own Indians came flocking in, to confirm the tidings, and to assure us of their intention to remain, faith- ful friends to the Americans. We soon heard of the arrival of the Illinois Rangers in the Rock River country, also of the progress of the regular force under Gen. Atkinson, in pursuit of the hostile Indians, who, by the reports, were always able to elude their vigi- lance. It not being their custom to stop and give battle, the Sauks soon scattered them- selves through the country, trusting to some lucky accident (and they arrived, alas! only too often), to enable them to fall upon their enemies unexpectedly. * See Appendix. 467 tEfje "Carlp 2Sap" in tfje J^orrt)=JHe*t The experience of the pursuing army was, for the most part, to make their way, by toil- some and fatiguing marches to the spot where they imagined the Sauks would be waiting to receive them, and then to dis- cover that the rogues had scampered off to quite a different part of the country. Wherever these latter went, their course was marked bv the most atrocious barbari- ties, though the worst had not, at this time, reached our ears. We were only assured that they were down in the neighborhood of the Rock river, and Kishwaukee, and that they lost no opportunity of falling upon the de- fenceless inhabitants, and cruelly murdering them. As soon as it became certain that the Sauks and Foxes would not pursue the same course they had in the previous year, that is, retreat peaceably across the Mississippi, Mr. Kinzie resolved to hold a council with all the principal chiefs of the W 7 inneba- goes, who were accessible at this time. He knew that the Sauks would use every effort to induce their neighbors to join them, and that there existed in the breasts of too many of the young savages a desire to dis- tinguish themselves by "taking some white scalps." They did not love the Americans — why should they? By them they had been 468 Commencement of ^>aufe War gradually dispossessed of the broad and beautiful domains of their forefathers, and hunted from place to place, and the only equivalent they had received in exchange had been a few thousands annually in silver and presents, together with the pernicious example, the debasing influence, and the positive ill-treatment of too many of the new settlers upon their lands. With all these facts in view, therefore, their "father" felt that the utmost watchful- ness was necessary, and that the strongest arguments must be brought forward, to pre- serve the young men of the Winnebagoes in their allegiance to the Americans. Of the older members he felt quite sure. About fifty lodges had come at the commencement of the disturbances, and encamped around our dwelling, saying, that if the Sauks at- tacked us, it must be after killing them; and, knowing them well, we had perfect confi- dence in their assurances. But their vicinity, while it gave us a feel- ing of protection, likewise furnished us with a channel of the most exciting and agitating daily communications. As the theatre of op- erations approached nearer and nearer, in- telligence was brought from one of their runners — now, that " Captain Harney's head had been recognized in the Sauk camp, where 469 GTfje "Carl? 20ap" in fye J|ortf)=Jle£tt it had been brought the day previous," next, that "the Sauks were carrying Lieut. Beall's head on a pole in front of them as they marched to meet the whites." Sometimes it was a story which we afterwards found to be true, as that of the murder of their agent, Mr. St. Vrain, at Kellogg's Grove, by the Sauks themselves, who ought to have pro- tected him. 1 - 6 It was after the news of this last occur- rence, that the appointed council with the YVinnebagoes was to be held at the Four Lakes, thirty-five miles distant from Fort Winnebago. 127 In vain we pleaded and remonstrated against such an exposure. "It was his duty to assemble and talk to them," my husband said, "and he must run the risk, if there were any. He had perfect confidence in the Win- nebagoes. The enemy, by all he could learn, m Felix St. Vrain, successor in 1830 of Thomas Forsyth as agent to the Sauk and Foxes at Rock Island, was slain by the hostile Sauk near Buffalo Grove, Illi- nois, toward the end of May, 1832. — Ed. 127 General Dodge's council with the Winnebago at Four Lakes (at the western end of Lake Mendota) was held May 26, 1832. Our author, writing a quarter of a century later, has evidently confused somewhat the order of events, for the murder of St. Vrain could not have been known at Fort Winnebago before her hus- band's departure for the Four Lakes council. — Ed. 470 Commencement of gbaufe Max were now far distant from the Four Lakes — probably at Kosh-ko-nong. He would set off early in the morning with Paquette, hold his council, and return to us the same evening." It were useless to attempt to describe our feelings during that long and dreary day. When night arrived the cry of a drunken In- dian, or even the barking of a dog, would fill our hearts with terror. As we sat, at a late hour, at the open win- dow, listening to every sound, with what joy did we at length distinguish the tramp of horses — we knew it to be Griffin and Jerry ascending the hill, and a cheerful shout soon announced that all was well. They had rid- den seventy miles that day, besides holding a long "talk" with the Indians. The YVinnebagoes in council had promised to use their utmost endeavors to preserve peace and good order among their young men. They informed their father that the bands on the Rock river, with the exception of Win-no-sheek's were all determined to re- main friendly, and keep aloof from the Sauks. To that end, they were all abandoning their villages and corn-fields, and moving north, that their Great Father, the President, might not feel dissatisfied with them. With regard to Win-no-sheek and his people, they pro- fessed themselves unable to answer. 471 W$z "€arlp Bap" in tfje J?ortf)=ffles;t Time went on, and brought with it stories of fresh outrages. Among these were the murders of Auberry, Green, and Force, at Blue Mound, and the attack on Apple Fort. 128 The tidings of the latter were brought by old Crely, the father of Mrs. Paquette, who rode express from Galena, and who averred that he once passed a bush behind which the Sauks were hiding, but that his horse smelt the sweet-scented grass with which they always adorn their persons when on a war-party, and set out on such a gallop that he never stopped until he arrived at the Portage. Another bearer of news was a young gen- tleman named Follett, whose eyes had be- come so protruded, and set, from keeping an anxious lookout for the enemy, that it was many days after his arrival at a place of safety, before they resumed their accus- tomed limits and expression. Among other rumors which at this time reached us, was one that an attack upon the fort was in contemplation among the Sauks. That this was certainly in no state of de- fence, the Indians very well knew. All the 128 William Aubrey was slain at Blue Mounds Fort on June 6; George Force and Emerson Green were killed at the same place, June 20. The attack on Apple River Fort, twelve or fourteen miles southeast of Galena, occurred June 24, 1832. — Ed. 472 Commencement of g>aufe Mar effective men had been withdrawn, upon a requisition from General Atkinson, to join him at his newly-built fort at Kosh-ko- nong. 129 Fort Winnebago was not picketed in — there were no defences to the barracks or officers' quarters, except slight panelled doors and Venetian blinds — nothing that would long re- sist the blows of clubs or hatchets. There was no artillery, and the Commissary's store was without the bounds of the fort, under the hill. Mr. Kinzie had, from the first, called the attention of the officers to the insecurity of their position, in case of danger, but he gen- erally received a scoffing answer. "Never fear," they would say — "the Sauks are not coming here to attack us." One afternoon we had gone over on a visit to some friends in the garrison, and several officers being present, the conversation, as usual, turned upon the present position of affairs. " Do you not think it wiser," inquired I, of a blustering young officer, "to be prepared against possible danger?" "Not against these fellows," replied he, contemptuously — "I do not think I would 129 This fort, hastily erected and occupied but a short time, was on the site of the present-day city of Fort Atkinson, Wisconsin. — Ed. 473 tKfje "€arlp ©ap" in tfje &ovti)=Wlt&t even take the trouble to fasten the blind? to my quarters." "At least," said I, "if you some night find a tomahawk raised to cleave your skull, you will have the consolation of remembering that you have not been one of those foolish fellows who keep on the safe side." He seemed a little nettled at this, and still more so when sister Margaret observed: "For my part, I am of Governor Cass' opinion. He was at Chicago during the Win- nebago war. We were all preparing to move into the fort on the first alarm. Some were for being brave and delaying, like our friends here. 'Come, come,' said the Governor, 'hurry into the fort as fast as possible — there is no merit in being brave with the Indians. It is the height of folly to stay and meet danger which you may by prudence avoid.'" In a few days our friends waked up to the conviction that something must be done at once. The first step was to forbid any Win- nebago coming within the garrison, lest they should find out what they had known as well as ourselves for three months past — namely, the feebleness of the means of resistance. The next was to send "fatigue-parties" into the woods, under the protection of a guard, to cut pickets for enclosing the garrison. 474 Commencement of Hmufe filar There was every reason to believe that the enemy were not very far distant, and that their object in coming north was to break away into the Chippewa country, where they would find a place of security among their friends and allies. The story that our Indian runners brought in most frequently was, that the Sauks were determined to fall upon the whites at the Portage and Fort, and mas- sacre all, except the families of the Agent and Interpreter. Plante and Pillon with their families had departed at the first word of danger. There only remained with us Manaigre, whose wife was a half- Winnebago, Isidore Morrin, and the blacksmiths from Sugar Creek, Mata, and Turcotte. At night we were all regularly armed and our posts assigned us. After every means had been taken to make the house secure, the orders were given. Sister Margaret and I, in case of attack, were to mount with the chil- dren to the rooms above, while my husband and his men were to make good their defence as long as possible against the enemy. Since I had shown my sportsmanship by bringing down accidentally a blackbird on the wing, I felt as if I could do some execution with my little pistols, which were regularly placed beside my pillow at night, and I was fully 475 Cfje "Carlp ©ap" tn tfje 3Btortf)=»Je«Btt resolved to use them, if necessity required it, and I do not remember to have had the slightest compunction at the idea of taking the lives of two Sauks, as I had no doubt I should do, and this explains to me what I had before often wondered at, the indiffer- ence of the soldier on the field of battle to the destruction of human life. Had I been called upon, however, to use my weapons effectu- ally, I should no doubt have looked back upon it with horror. Surrounded as we were by Indian lodges, which seldom became perfectly quiet, and excited as our nerves had become by all that we were daily in the habit of hearing, we sel- dom slept very soundly- One night, after we had as much as possible composed ourselves, we were startled at a late hour by a tap upon the window at the head of our bed, and a call of "Chon! Chon!"* (John! John!) "Tshah-ko-zhah?" (What is it?) It was Hoo-wau-ne-kah, the little Elk. He spoke rapidly, and in a tone of great agi- tation. I could not understand him, and I lay trembling, and dreading to hear his errand interpreted. Now and then I could *The Indians who had "been at Washington," were very fond of calling their father thus. Black Wolf's son would go farther and vociferate "K'hizzie," to show his familiarity. 476 Commencement of feaufe Max distinguish the words Sau-kee (Sauks) and Shoonk-hat-tay-rah (horse), and they were not very reassuring. The subject I soon learned was this: A fresh trail had been observed near the Petit Rocher, on the Wisconsin, and the people at the villages on the Barribault were in a state of great alarm, fearing it might be the Sauks. There was the appearance of a hundred or more horses having passed by this trail. Hoo-wau-ne-kah had been dispatched at once to tell their father, and to ask his ad- vice. After listening to all he had to communi- cate, his father told him the trail was un- doubtedly that of General Henry's troops, who were said to have come North, looking for the enemy. That as the marks of the horses' hoofs showed them, by this report, to have been shod, that was sufficient proof that it was not the trail of the Sauks. He thought that the people at the villages need not feel any uneasiness. "Very well, father," replied Hoo-wau-ne- kah, " I will go back and tell my people what you say. They will believe you, for you always tell them the truth. You are not like us Indians, who sometimes deceive each other." So saying, he returned to his friends, much comforted. 477 Qtfje "earlp 3@ap" m tfje J|ottf)=JHes;t The completion of the picketing and other defences, together with the arrival of a de- tachment of troops from Fort Howard under Lieut. Hunter, at our fort now seemed to ren- der the latter the place of greatest safety. We therefore regularly, every evening before dusk, took up our line of march for the oppo- site side of the river, and repaired to quar- ters that had been assigned us within the garrison, leaving our own house and chattels to the care of the Frenchmen and our friends, the Winnebagoes. It was on one of these days that we were sitting at the windows which looked out on the Portage — indeed, we seldom sat any- where else, our almost constant occupation being to look abroad and see what was com- ing next — when a loud, long, shrill whoop from a distance gave notice of something to be heard. "The news — halloo! what could it portend? What were we about to hear?" By gazing intently towards the farthest ex- tremity of the road, we could perceive a mov- ing body of horsemen, which, as they ap- proached, we saw to be Indians. They were in full costume. Scarlet streamers fluttered at the ends of their lances — their arms glit- tered in the sun. Presently, as they drew nearer, their paint, and feathers and brooches became visible. There were fifty or more 478 Commencement of i§>aufe Mar warriors. What could it denote? They passed the road which turns to the fort, and rode directly up the hill leading to the Agency. Shaw-nee-aw-kee was absent. The Interpreter had been sent for on the first dis- tant appearance of the strangers, but had not yet arrived. The party having ascended the hill, halted near the blacksmith's shop, but did not dismount. Our hearts trembled — it must surely be the enemy. At this moment my husband ap- peared in the direction of the Interpreter's house. We called to entreat him to stop, but he walked along towards the new comers. To our infinite joy we saw the Chief of the party dismount, and all the others following his example, and approaching to shake hands. A space was soon cleared around the leader and my husband, when the former commenced an oration, flourishing his sword and using much violent gesticulation. It was the first time I had seen an Indian armed with that weapon, and I dreaded to perceive it in such hands. Sometimes he appeared as if he were about to take off the head of his auditor at a blow, and our hearts sank as we remembered the stratagems at Mackinac and Detroit in former days. At length the speech was concluded, another shaking of 479 Zl)t "€arlp 3Bap" in tfje Jlortf^Jlestt hands took place, and we saw my husband leading the way to his storehouse, from which some of his men presently brought tobacco and pipes, and laid them at the feet of the Chief. Our suspense was soon relieved by being informed that the strangers were Man- Eater, the principal Chief of the Rock River Indians, who had come with his band to "hold a talk," and bring information. These Indians were under the special care of Mr. Henry Gratiot, and his efforts had been most judicious and unremitting in pre- serving the good feeling of this, the most dangerous portion of the Winnebagoes. The intelligence that Man-Eater, who was a most noble Indian in appearance and char- acter, brought us, confirmed that already re- ceived, namely, that the Sauks were gradu- ally drawing north, towards the Portage, although he evidently did not know exactly their whereabouts. There was, soon after their departure, an arrival of another party of Winnebagoes, and they requested permission to dance for their father. The compliment having been accepted, they assembled, as usual, on the esplanade in front of the house. My sister, the children and myself, stationed ourselves at the open 480 Commencement of gbaufe Wat windows, according to custom, and my hus- band sat on the broad step before the door, which opened from the outer air directly into the parlor where we were. The performance commenced, and as they proceeded, following each other round and round in the progress of the dance, my sister, Mrs. Helm, remarked to me, "Look at that small dark Indian, with the green boughs on his person — that is a Sauk! They always mark themselves in this manner with white clay, and ornament themselves with leaves when they dance!" In truth, I had never seen this costume among our own Indians, and as I gazed at this one, with a green chap- let round his head and his legs, and even his gun wreathed in the same manner, while his body displayed no paint except the white transverse streaks with which it was cov- ered, I saw that he was, indeed, a stranger. Without owing anything to the exaggeration of fear, his countenance was truly ferocious. He held his gun in his hand, and every time the course of the dance brought him directly in front of where we sat, he would turn his gaze full upon us, and club his weapon be- fore him with what we interpreted into an air of defiance. We sat as still as death, for we knew it would not be wise to exhibit any appearance of fear, but my sister remarked 481 QTfje "Carlp 2Sap" tn tfje &ovtb=Wiztit in a low tone, "I have always thought that I was to lose my life by the hands of the Indi- ans — this is the third Indian war I have gone through, and now, I suppose, it will be the last." It was the only time I ever saw her lose her self-possession. She was always remark- ably calm and resolute, but now I could see that she trembled. Still we sat there — there was a sort of fascination as our imaginations became more and more excited. Presently, some rain-drops began to fall. The Indians continued their dance for a few minutes longer, then, with whoopings and shoutings, they rushed simultaneously towards the house. We fled into my apartment and closed the door, which my sister at first held fast, but presently came and seated herself by me on the bed, for she saw that I could not compose myself. Of all forms of death that by the hands of savages, is the most difficult to face calmly, and I fully believed that our hour was come. There was no interruption to the dance, which the Indians carried on in the parlor, leaping and yelling as if they would bring down the roof over our heads. In vain we tried to persuade my husband and the chil- dren, through a crevice of the door, to come and join us. The latter, feeling no danger, 482 Commencement of ibaufe H3ar were too much delighted with the exhibition to leave it, and the former only came for a moment to reassure me, and then judged it wisest to return, and manifest his satisfac- tion at the compliment by his presence. He made light of our fears, and would not admit that the object of our suspicions was in fact a Sauk, but only some young Winnebago, who had, as is sometimes the custom, imitated them in costume and appearance. It may have been "good fun" to him to return to his village and tell how he fright- ened "the white squaws." Such a trick would not be unnatural in a white youth, and perhaps, since human nature is every- where the same, it might not be out of the way in an Indian. 483 Chapter 33 FLEEING FROM THE INDIANS THE danger now appeared to have be- come so imminent that my husband determined to send his family to Fort Howard, a point which was believed to be far out of the range of the enemy. It was in vain that I pleaded to be permitted to re- main — he was firm. "I must not leave my post," said he, "while there is any danger. My departure would perhaps be the signal for an immedi- ate alliance of the Winnebagoes with the Sauks. I am certain that as long as I am here, my presence will act as a restraint upon them. You wish to remain and share my dangers! Your doing so would expose us both to certain destruction in case of attack. By the aid of my friends in both tribes, I could hope to preserve my own life if I were alone, but surrounded by my family, that would be impossible — we should all fall vic- tims together. My duty plainly is to send you to a place of safety. An opportunity for doing this soon oc- curred. Paquette, the interpreter, who was 484 Jfleetng from tfje Sntuana likewise an agent of the American Fur Com- pany, had occasion to send a boat load of furs to Green Bay, on their way to Mackinac. Mr. Kinzie having seen it as comfortably fitted up as an open boat of that descrip- tion could be, with a tent-cloth fastened on a framework of hoop-poles over the centre, and lined with a dark-green blanket; and having placed on board an abundant store of provisions and other comforts, he committed us to the joint care of my brother Arthur and his faithful blacksmith, Mata. This latter was a tall, gaunt Frenchman, with a freckled face, a profusion of crisp, sandy hair, and an inveterate propensity to speak English. His knowledge of the lan- guage was somewhat limited, and he bur- lesqued it by adding an s to almost every word, and giving out each phrase with a jerk. '"Davids," he was wont to say to the little yellow fiddler, after an evening's frolic at the Interpreter's, "Davids, clear away the tables and the glasses, and play Jishes horn spikes."* But he was a kind, affectionate creature, and his devotion to " Monsieur Johns " and " Ma- dame Johns" knew no bounds. Besides these two protectors, three trusty Indians, the chief of whom was called Old Smoker, were engaged to escort our party. * Fisher's Hornpipe. 485 OTje "<£arlp ®ap" in tfje &QXti)=Wlt&t The crew of the boat consisted entirely of French engages in the service of the Fur Company. They were six gay-hearted, merry fellows, lightening their labor with their pipe and their songs, in which they always esteemed it a great compliment to be joined by any gentleman or lady who listened to them — but our hearts, alas! were now too heavy to participate in their enjoyment. The Fourth of July, the day on which we left our home, was a gloomy one indeed to those who departed, and to the one left be- hind. Who knew if we should ever meet again? The experience which some of the circle had had in Indian warfare, was such as to justify the saddest forebodings. There was not even the consolation of a certainty that this step would secure our safety. The Sauks might, possibly, be on the other side of us, and the route we were taking might, per- haps, though not probably, carry us into their very midst. It was no wonder then that our leave-taking was a solemn one — a parting which all felt might be for this world. Not all, however, for the gay, cheerful Frenchmen laughed and sung and cracked their jokes, and "assured Monsieur John that they would take Madame John and Madame Alum safe to l the bay, spite of Sauks or wind or weather." 486 Jfleemg from tfje Snbtan* Thus we set out on our journey. For many miles the fort was in sight, as the course of the river alternately approached and receded from its walls, and it was not un- til nearly mid-day that we caught the last glimpse of our home. At the noon-tide meal, or "pipe," as it is called by the voyageurs, an alarming discov- ery was made — no bread had been put on board for the crew! How this oversight had occurred, no one could tell. One was certain that a large quantity had been brought from the garrison bakery for their use that very morning — another had even seen the sacks of loaves standing in Paquette's kitchen. Be that as it may, here we were, many miles on our journey, and with no provisions for the six Frenchmen, except some salted pork, a few beans, and some onions. A consulta- tion was held in this emergency. Should they return to the Portage for supplies? The same danger that made their departure necessary, still existed, and the utmost dis- patch had been enjoined upon them. We found upon examination that the store of bread and crackers with which our party had been provided, was far beyond what we could possibly require, and we thought it would be sufficient to allow of rations to the Frenchmen until we should reach 487 Wbz "€adp 2Bap" m tfje &ovti)=WitXt Powell's, 130 at the Butte des Morts, the day but one following, where we should un- doubtedly be able to procure a fresh supply. This decided on, we proceeded on our journey, always in profound silence, for a song or a loud laugh was now strictly pro- hibited until we should have passed the ut- most limits of country where the enemy might possibly be. We had been warned be- forehand that a certain point, where the low marshy meadows, through which the river had hitherto run, rises into a more firm and elevated country, was the border of the Me- nomonee territory, and the spot where the Sauks, if they had fled north of the Wiscon- sin towards the Chippewa country, would be most likely to be encountered. As we received intimation on the forenoon of the second day that we were drawing near this spot, I must confess that "we held our breath for awe." The three Winnebagoes were in the bow of the boat. Old Smoker, the chief, squatted upon his feet on the bench of the foremost n ' Peter Powell was an Englishman who came to Wisconsin in 1800 as a clerk in the employ of Jacob Franks of Green Bay. Until his death in 1837 he was engaged in the Indian trade, his home for the last two years of his life being at Lake Butte des Morts. He married Mary Jeffrey, the half-breed daughter of an English trader and a Menominee woman. — Ed. 488 Jfleemg from tfje Jfnbtang rowers. We looked at him. He was gazing intently in the direction of the wooded point we were approaching. Our eyes followed his, and we saw three Indians step forward and stand upon the bank. We said in a low voice to each other, "if they are Sauks, we are lost, for the whole body must be in that thicket." The boat continued to approach — not a word was spoken — the dip of the paddle, and perhaps the beating hearts of some, were the only sounds that broke the stillness. Again we looked at the chief. His nostrils were di- lated — his eyes almost glaring. Suddenly, with a bound, he sprung to his feet and uttered his long shrill whoop. " Hoh ! hoh ! hoh ! neetchee (friend) Mah-no- mo-nee!" All was now joy and gladness. Every one was forward to shake hands with the strang- ers as soon as we could reach them, in token of our satisfaction that they were Menomo- nees and not Sauks, of the latter of whom, by the way, they would give us no intelli- gence. By noon of that day, we considered our- selves to be out of the region of danger. Still caution was deemed necessary, and when at the mid-day pipe the boat was pushed ashore under a beautiful overhanging bank, crowned with a thick wood, the usual vigilance was 489 Cfje "€arlp ®ap" m fte J?ortf)=»lest somewhat relaxed, and the young people, -un- der the escort of Arthur and Mata were per- mitted to roam about a little, in the vicinity of the boat. They soon came back with the report that the woods were "alive with pigeons," 131 — they could almost knock them down with sticks, and earnestly did they plead to be allowed to shoot at least enough for supper. But no — the enemy might be nearer than we imagined, the firing of a gun would betray our whereabouts — it was most prudent to give no notice to friend or foe. So, very re- luctantly, they were compelled to return to the boat without their game. The next morning brought us to Powell's, at the Butte des Morts. Sad were the faces 131 The passenger pigeon of pioneer America, now exterminated, whose flights were wont to darken the midday sun. Simon Pokagon, the St. Joseph River chief, tells of seeing them fly "in unbroken lines from the horizon, one line succeeding another, from morning until night. ... At another time I have seen them in one unbroken column for hours across the sky like some great river, ever varying in hue; and as the mighty stream, sweeping on at sixty miles an hour, reached some deep valley, it would pour its living mass head- long down hundreds of feet, sounding as though a whirl- pool was abroad in the land." The passenger pigeon was common in the Northwest until some time in the seventies. The last living specimen died of old age in the Cincinnati Zoological Garden, September i, 1914. — Ed. 490 Jfleetng from tfje Snbtang of the poor Frenchmen at learning that not a loaf of bread was to be had. Our own store, too, was, by this time, quite exhausted. The only substitute we could obtain, was a bag of dark-looking, bitter flour. With this pro- vision for our whole party, we were forced to be contented, and we left the Hillock of the Dead feeling that it had been indeed the grave of our hopes. By dint of good rowing, our crew soon brought us to the spot where the river en- ters that beautiful sheet of water, Winne- bago Lake. Though there was but little wind when we reached the lake, the French- men hoisted their sail, in hopes to save them- selves the labour of rowing across; but in vain did they whistle, with all the force of their lungs — in vain did they supplicate La Vierge^ with a comical mixture of fun and reverence. As a last resource, it was at length suggested by some one that their only chance lay in propitiating the goddess of the winds with an offering of some cast-off garment. Application was made all round by Guard- apie the chief spokesman of the crew. Alas! not one of the poor voyageurs could boast a spare article. A few old rags were at length rummaged out of the little receptacle of food, clothing, and dirt, in the bow of the boat, and cast into the waves. For a moment all 491 ftfje "Carlp ®ap" in tije J|ortf)=JIle£rt flattered themselves that the experiment had been successful — the sail fluttered, swelled a little, and then flapped idly down against the mast. The party were in despair, until, after a whispered consultation together, Julian and Edwin stepped forward as messengers of mercy. In a trice they divested them- selves of jacket and vest and made a proffer of their next garment to aid in raising the wind. At first there seemed a doubt in the minds of the boatmen whether they ought to ac- cept so magnificent an offer, but finding, on giving them a preparatory shake, that the value of the contribution was less than they had imagined, they, with many shouts, and much laughter, consigned them to the waves. To the great delight and astonishment of the boys, a breeze at this moment sprung up, which carried the little vessel beautifully over the waters for about half the distance to Garlic Island. By this time the charm was exhausted, nor was it found possible to re- new it by a repetition of similar offerings. All expedients were tried without success, and, with sundry rather disrespectful reflec- tions upon the lady whose aid they had invoked, the Frenchmen were compelled to betake themselves to their oars, until they reached the island. 492 Jfleemg from tfje Snbtang Two or three canoes of Winnebagoes had arrived at the same moment, and their own- ers immediately stepped forward with an offering of some sturgeon which they had caught in the lake. As this promised to be an agreeable variety to the noon-tide meal (at least for the Frenchmen), it was decided to stop and kindle a fire for the purpose of cooking it. We took advantage of this inter- val, to recommend to the boys a stroll to the opposite side of the island, where the clear, shallow water and pebbly beach offered temptation to a refreshing bath. While they availed themselves of this, under the super- vision of Harry, the black boy, we amused ourselves with gathering the fine red rasp- berries with which the island abounded. Our enjoyment was cut short, however, by discovering that the whole place, vines, shrubs, and even, apparently, the earth it- self, was infested with myriads of the wood- tick, a little insect, that, having fastened to the skin, penetrates into the very flesh, caus- ing a swelling and irritation exceedingly painful, and even dangerous. The alarm was sounded to bring the boys back in all haste, to the open and more frequented part of the island. But we soon found we had not left our tormentors behind. Throughout the day, we continued to be sensible of their proximity. 493 TOje "€arlp Jlap" in tfje &ovtb=Wit&t From the effects of their attacks we were not relieved for several succeeding days; those which had succeeded in burying themselves in the flesh, having to be removed with the point of a penknife, or a large needle. After partaking of our dinner, we stepped on board our boat, and the wind having risen, we were carried by the breeze to the oppo- site verge of the lake, and into the entrance of the river, or, as it was called, the Winne- bago rapids. On the point of land to the right stood a collection of neat bark wigwams — this was Four-Legs' village. It was an exciting and somewhat hazard- ous passage down the rapids and over the Grande Chute, a fall of several feet; but it was safely passed, and at the approach of evening the boat reached the settlement of the Wau-bee-na-kees at the head of the Lit- tle Chute. These are the Stockbridge or Brothertown Indians, the remains of the old Mohicans, who had, a few years before, emi- grated from Oneida County in the State of New York, to a tract granted them by the United States, on the fertile banks of the Fox River. They had already cleared ex- tensive openings in the forest, and built some substantial and comfortable houses near the banks of the river, which were here quite 494 Jfleemg from tfje Snbiang high, and covered for the most part with gigantic trees. It was determined to ask hospitality of these people, to the extent of borrowing a corner of their fire to boil our tea kettle, and bake the short-cake which had been now, for nearly two days, our substitute for bread. Its manufacture had been a subject of much merriment. The ingredients, consisting of Powell's black flour, some salt and a little butter, were mixed in the tin box which had held our meat. This was then reversed, and having been properly cleansed, supplied the place of a dough-board. The vinegar bottle served the office of rolling-pin, and a shallow tin dish, set upon the coals at our previous encamping places, had formed the appliance for baking. The Wau-bee-na-kees were so good as to lend us an iron bake-kettle, and superintend the cooking of our cake after Harry had carried it up to their dwelling. So kind and hospitable did they show themselves, that the crew of the boat took the resolution of asking a lodging on shore, by way of relief, after their crowded quar- ters in the boat for the last three nights. Ar- thur and Mata soon adopted the same idea, and we were invited to follow their example, with the assurance that the houses were ex- tremely neat and orderly. 495 Wi)t "(Earl? Bap" m tfje Maxti)=Wit&t We preferred, however, as it was a fine night, and all things were so comfortably arranged in the centre of the boat, to re- main on board, keeping Edwin and Josette with us. The boat was tightly moored, for the Little Chute was just below, and if our craft should work loose in the rapid current, and drift down over the falls, it would be a very seri- ous matter. As an additional precaution, one man was left on board to keep all things safe and in order, and these arrangements having been made, the others ascended the bank, and took up their night's lodging in the Wau-bee-na-kee cabins. It was a beautiful, calm, moonlight night, the air just sufficiently warm to be agreeable, while the gentle murmur of the rapids and of the fall at no great distance, soon lulled our party to repose. How long we had slumbered we knew not, when we were aroused by a rushing wind. It bent the poles support- ing the awning, snapped them, and another gust succeeding, tent and blanket were car- ried away on the blast down the stream. The moonlight was gone, but a flash of lightning showed them sailing away like a spectre in the distance. The storm increased in violence. The rain began to pour in torrents, and the thunder 496 Jfleemg from tfje Snbtaug and lightning to succeed each other in fear- ful rapidity. My sister sprang to waken the Frenchman. "Get up Vitelle, quick," cried she, in French, "run up the bank for Mata and Mr. Arthur — tell them to come and get us instantly." The man made her no reply, but fell upon his knees, invoking the Virgin most vocifer- ously. "Do not wait for the Virgin, but go as quickly as possible. Do you not see we shall all be killed?" "Oh! not for the world, Madame, not for the world," said Vitelle, burying his head in a pack of furs, "would I go up that bank in this storm." And here he began crying most lustily to all the saints in the calendar. It was indeed awful. The roaring of the thunder and the flashing of the lightning around us, were like the continued discharge of a park of artillery. I had with difficulty drawn forth my cloak, and enveloped myself and Josette — sister Margaret had done the same with Edwin. "Oh! Madame," said the poor little girl, her teeth chattering with cold and fright, "won't we be drowned?" "Very well," said my sister to the French- man, "you see that Madame John is at the 497 {Efje "€arlp ®ap" in tije Jfrortf)=raie£t last agony — if you will not go for help I must, and Monsieur John must know that you left his wife to perish." This was too much for Vitelle. "If I must, I must," said he, and with a desperate bound he leapt on shore and sped up the hill with might and main. In a few minutes, though it seemed ages to us, a whole posse came flying down the hill. The incessant lightning made all things ap- pear as in the glare of day. Mata's hair fairly stood on end, and his eyes rolled with ghastly astonishment at the spectacle. "Oh! my God, Madame Johns! what would Monsieur Johns say, to see you nows ?" exclaimed he, as he seized me in his arms and bore me up the hill. Arthur followed with sister Margaret, and two others with Edwin and Josette. Nobody carried Vitelle, for he had taken care not to risk his precious life by venturing again to the boat. On arriving at the cabin where Arthur and Mata had been lodged, a fire was, with some difficulty, kindled, and our trunks having been brought up from the boat, we were at length able to exchange our drenched gar- ments, and those of the children, for others more comfortable, after which we laid our- selves upon the clean, but homely bed, and slept until daylight. 49 8 Jfleemg from tfje Snbfati* As it was necessary to ascertain what de- gree of damage the cargo of furs had sus- tained, an early start was proposed. Appar- ently, the inhabitants of the cottages had be- come weary in well doing, for they declined preparing breakfast for us, although we as- sured them they should be well compensated for their trouble. We, consequently, saw our- selves compelled to depart with very slender prospects of a morning meal. When we reached the boat, what a scene presented itself! Bed-clothes, cloaks, trunks, mess-basket, packs of furs, all bearing the marks of a complete deluge ! The boat ankle- deep in water — literally no place on board where we could either stand or sit. After some baling out, and an attempt at dispos- ing some of the packs of furs, which had suf- fered least from the flood, so as to form a sort of divan in the centre of the boat, nothing better seemed to offer than to re-embark, and endure what "could not be cured." Our position was not an enviable one. Wherever a foot or hand was placed, the water gushed up, with a bubbling sound, and, oh! the state of the bandboxes and work-baskets! Breakfast there was none, for on examining the mess-basket every- thing it contained was found mingled in one undistinguishable mass. Tea, pepper, salt, 499 Wi)t "Carlp ®ap" tn tfte MoTti)=Wlt&t short-cake, all floating together — it was a hopeless case. But this was not the worst. As the fervid July sun rose higher in the heavens, the steam which exhaled from every object on board was nearly suffocating. The boat was old — the packs of skins were old — their vi- cinity in a dry day had been anything but agreeable — now, it was intolerable. There was no retreating from it, however, so we encouraged the children to arm themselves with patience, for the short time that yet re- mained of our voyage. Seated on our odoriferous couch, beneath the shade of a single umbrella, to protect our whole party from the scorching sun, we glided wearily down the stream, through that long, tedious day. As we passed suc- cessively the Kakalin, the Rapids, Dickin- son's, the Agency, with what longing eyes did we gaze at human habitations, where others were enjoying the shelter of a roof, and the comforts of food, and how eagerly did we count the hours which must elapse before we could reach Fort Howard. There were no songs from the poor French- men this day. Music and fasting do not go well together. At length we stopped at Shan- tee-town, where the boat was to be unloaded. All hands fell to work to transfer the cargo 500 Jfleeing from tfje Snbtan* to the warehouse of the Fur Company, which stood near the landing. It was not a long op- eration, for all worked heartily. This being accomplished, the voyageurs, one and all, prepared to take their leave. In vain Mata stormed and raved, in vain Arthur remon- strated. "No," they said, "they had brought the boat and cargo to the warehouse — that was all of their job," and they turned to go. "Guardapie," said I, "do you intend to leave us here?" "Bien, Madame! it is the place we always stop at." "Does Monsieur John pay you for bring- ing his family down?" "Oh, yes; Monsieur John has given us an order on the sutler, at the fort down below." "To be paid when you deliver us safe at the fort down below. It seems I shall be there before you, and I shall arrange that matter. Monsieur John never dreamed that this would be your conduct." The Frenchmen consulted together, and the result was that Guardapie and two others jumped into the boat, took their oars, and rather sulkily rowed us the remaining two miles to Fort Howard. 501 Chapter 34 FORT HOWARD — OUR RETURN HOME WE soon learned that a great panic prevailed at Green Hay on account of the Sauks. The people seemed to have possessed themselves with the idea that the enemy would visit this place on their way to Canada to put themselves under the protection of the British Government. 1 low they were to get there from this point — whether they were to stop and fab- ricate themselves bark canoes for the pur- pose, or whether they were to charter one of Mr. Newberry's schooners for the trip, the good people did not seem fully to have made up their minds. One thing is certain, a portion of the citizens were nearly fright- ened to death, and were fully convinced that there was no safety for them, but within the walls of the old dilapidated fort, from which nearly all the troops had been with- drawn and sent to Fort Winnebago, some time previous. Their fears were greatly aggravated by a report, brought by some traveller, that he had slept at night on the very spot where the 502 Jfort ^otparb — <&ux Return S?ome Sauks breakfasted the next morning. Now, as the Sauks were known to be reduced to very short commons, there was every reason to suppose that if the man had waited half an hour longer, they would have eaten him; so he was considered to have made a wonder- ful escape. Our immediate friends and acquaintances were far from joining in these fears. The ut- ter improbability of such a movement was obvious to all who considered the nature of the country to be traversed, and the effi- cient and numerous body of whites by whom they must be opposed on their entrance into that neighborhood. There were some, however, who could not be persuaded that there was even any security but in flight, and eagerly was the arrival of the "Mari- ner" looked for, as the anxiety grew more and more intense. The "Mariner" appeared at last. It was early in the morning. In one hour from that time the fearful news she brought had spread the whole length of "the bay." The cholera was in this country! It was in Detroit — it was among the troops who were on their way to the seat of war! Whole companies had died of it in the river St. Clair, and the sur- vivors had been put on shore at Fort Gratiot, to save their lives as best they might! We 503 Cf)e "€arlp 3Bap" in fye iBtortf)=8Ue£rt were shut in between the savage foe on one hand and the pestilence on the other! To those who had friends "at the East," the news was most appalling. It seemed to unman every one who heard it. A relative, an officer who had exhibited the most distin- guished courage in the battle-field, and also in some private enterprises demanding un- equalled courage and daring, was the first to bring us the news. When he had communi- cated it, he laid his head against the window sill and wept like a child. Those who wished to rejoin friends near and dear, left "the bay" in the "Mariner;" all others considered their present home the safest, and so it proved, for the dreadful scourge did not visit Green Bay that season. The weather was intensely hot, and the musquitoes so thick that we did not pretend to walk on the parade after sunset, unless armed with two fans, or green branches to keep constantly in motion, in order to dis- perse them. This, by the way, was the surest method of attracting them. We had some- how forgotten the apathetic indifference which had often excited our wonder in old Smoker, when we had observed him calmly sitting and allowing his naked arms and per- son to become literally gray with the tor- menting insects. Then he would quietly 504 Jfort SMflarb— <&uv Return Home wipe off a handful, the blood following the movement of the hand over his skin, and stoically wait for an occasion to repeat the movement. It is said that the musquito, if undisturbed until he has taken his fill, leaves a much less inflamed bite than if brushed away in the midst of his feast. By day, the air was at this season filled with what is called the Green Bay fly, a spe- cies of dragon-fly, with which the outer walls of the houses are at times so covered that their color is hardly distinguishable. Their existence is very ephemeral, scarcely lasting more than a day. Their dead bodies are seen adhering to the walls and windows within, and they fall without in such numbers that after a high wind has gathered them into rows along the sides of the quarters, one may walk through them and toss them up with their feet like the dry leaves in autumn. As we walked across the parade, our atten- tion was sometimes called to a tapping upon the bars of the dungeon in which a criminal was confined— it was the murderer of Lieu- tenant Foster. It may be remembered that this amiable young officer had been our travelling com- panion in our journey from Chicago the pre- ceding year. Some months after his arrival at Fort Howard, he had occasion to order a 505 Cfje "earl? ©ap" in tt)e &ovti)=Wit&t soldier of his company, named Doyle, into confinement for intoxication. The man, a few days afterward, prevailed on the Ser- geant of the Guard to escort him to Lieuten- ant Foster's quarters on the plea that he wished to speak to him. He ascended the stairs to the young officer's room, while the sergeant and another soldier remained at the foot, near the door. Doyle entered, and addressing Lieutenant Foster, said, "Will you please tell me, Lieu- tenant, what I am confined for?" "No, sir," replied the officer, "you know your offence well enough; return to your place of confinement." The man ran down stairs, wrenched the gun from the sergeant's hand, and rushing back, discharged it at the heart of Lieuten- ant Foster. He turned to go to his inner apartment, but exclaiming, "Ah! me," he fell dead be- fore the entrance. Doyle, having been tried by a civil court, was now under sentence, awaiting his execu- tion. He was a hardened villain, never ex- hibiting the slightest compunction for his crime. The commanding officer, Major Clark, sent to him one day to inquire if he wanted anything for his comfort. 506 jfott J^otoarb — 0\xv Betum J^ome "If the Major pleased," he replied, "he should like to have a light and a copy of Byron's Works." Some fears were entertained that he would contrive to make way with himself before the day of execution, and to guard against it, he was deprived of everything that could fur- nish him a weapon. His food was served to him in a wooden bowl, lest a bit of broken crockery might be used as a means of self- destruction. One morning he sent a little package to the commanding officer as a present. It contained a strong rope, fabricated from strips of his blanket, that he had carefully separated, and with a large stout spike at the end of it. The message accompany- ing it was: "He wished Major Clark to see that if he chose to put an end to him- self, he could find means to do it in spite of him." And this hardened frame of mind con- tinued to the last. When he was led out for execution, in passing beyond the gate, he observed a quantity of lumber recently col- lected for the construction of a new Com- pany's store. "Ah! Captain, what are you going to build here ? " inquired he of Captain Scott, who at- tended him. 507 {Efje "earlp Bap" in tfje MovfcWlztit "Doyle," replied his Captain, "you have but a few moments to live — you had better employ your thoughts about something else." "It is for that very reason, Captain," said he, "that I am enquiring — as my time is short, I wish to gain all the information I can while it lasts." We were not suffered to remain long in suspense in regard to the friends we had left behind. In less than two weeks Old Smoker again made his appearance. He was the bearer of letters from my husband, informing me that Gen. Dodge was then with him at Fort Winnebago — that Generals Henry and Alexander were likewise at the fort, and that as soon as they had recruited their men and horses, which were pretty well worn out with scouring the country after Black Hawk, they would march again in pursuit of him towards the head waters of the Rock river, where they had every reason, from information lately brought in by the Winnebagoes, to be- lieve he would be found. As he charged us to lay aside all uneasiness on his account, and moreover held forth the hope of soon coming or sending for us, our minds became more tranquil. Not long after this, I was told one morn- ing, that " a lady" wished to see me at the 508 Jfort ^otoarb — 0uv Return J^ome front door. I obeyed the summons, and, to my surprise, was greeted by my friend, Ma- dame Fourkgs. After much demonstration of joy at seeing me, such as putting her two hands together over her forehead, and then parting them in a waving kind of gesture — laughing and patting me on my arms, she drew from her bosom a letter from my hus- band, of which she was the bearer, to this ef- fect — " Generals Dodge and Henry left here a few days since, accompanied by Paquette; they met the Sauks near the Wisconsin, on the 2 1 st. A battle ensued in which upwards of fifty of the enemy were killed — our loss was one killed, and eight wounded. 132 The citizens are well pleased that all this has been accomplished without any aid from Old White Beaver* The war must be near its close, for the militia and regulars together will soon finish the remaining handful of fugitives." 132 The allusion is to the battle of Wisconsin Heights, where Black Hawk effected a skilful crossing of the Wisconsin River in the immediate presence of an over- whelming force of civilized foes. Among the latter was young Lieutenant Jefferson Davis, who here witnessed his first battle. Over half a century later, with his mind stored with experiences of the Mexican and Civil Wars, he described it as "the most brilliant exhibition of military tactics that I ever witnessed — a feat of most consummate management and bravery, in the face of an enemy of greatly superior numbers." — Ed. * General Atkinson. 509 tEfte "€arlp ®ap" m tfje J|ortf)=JHe£rt The arrival of Lieut. Hunter, who had ob- tained leave of absence in order to escort us, soon put all things in train for our return to Fort Winnebago. No Mackinac boat was to be had, but in lieu of it a Durham boat 133 was procured. This is of a description longer and shallower than the other, with no con- venience for rigging up an awning, or shelter of any kind over the centre; but its size was better fitted to accommodate our party, which consisted of Mr. and Mrs. H., the wife of another officer now stationed at Fort Win- nebago, and our cousin, Miss Forsyth, in ad- dition to our own immediate family. We made up our minds, as will be supposed, to pretty close quarters. Our crew was composed partly of French- men, and partly of soldiers, and all things being in readiness, we set off one fine, bright morning, in the latter part of July. Our second day's alternate rowing and pol- ing brought us to the Grande Chute early in the afternoon. 133 The Durham boat was invented by Robert Dur- ham of Bucks County, Pa., about the year 1750. It was introduced to Wisconsin waters by John P. Arndt of Green Bay, about the year 1825 and on the Fox River continued the main vessel for freight transportation until displaced by the steamboat. Durham boats were commonly from 45 to 60 feet long, of shallow draft, and capable of carrying a cargo of thirty tons or so. — Ed. 510 m m jfovt ^Qtoarb — ®uv Return Sfome Here, it is the custom to disembark at the foot of the rapids, and, ascending the high bank, walk around the fall, while the men pull the boat up, through the foaming waters. Most of our party had already stepped on shore, when a sudden thought seized one of the ladies and myself. ''Let us stay in the boat," said we, "and be pulled up the Chute." The rest of the com- pany went on, while we sat and watched with great interest the preparations the men were making. They were soon overboard in the water, and attaching a strong rope to the bow of the boat, all lent their aid in pulling as they marched slowly along with their heavy load. The cargo, consisting only of our trunks and stores, which were of no very considerable weight, had not been removed. We went on, now and then getting a tre- mendous bump against a hidden rock, and frequently splashed by a shower of foam as the waves roared and boiled around us. The men kept as closely as possible to the high, precipitous bank, where the water was smoothest. At the head of the cordel was a merry simpleton of a Frenchman, who was constantly turning to grin with delight at our evident enjoyment and excitement. We were indeed in high glee. "Is not this charming?" cried one — "I only wish — " 5ii TOje "Carlp ®ap" m tfje MovfcWLt&t The wish, whatever it was, was cut short by a shout and a crash. "Have a care, Robi- neau ! Mind where you are taking the boat ! " was the cry, but it came too late. More occu- pied with the ladies than with his duty, the leader had guided us into the midst of a sharp, projecting tree that hung from the bank. The first tug ripped out the side of the boat, which immediately began to fill with water. My companion and I jumped upon the nearest rocks that showed their heads above the foam. Our screams and the shouts of the men brought Lieut. Hunter and some Indi- ans, who were above on the bank, dashing down to our rescue. They carried us in their arms to land, while the men worked lustily at fishing up the contents of the boat, now thoroughly saturated with water. We scrambled up the high bank, in a mis- erable plight, to join in the general lamenta- tion over the probable consequences of the accident. "Oh! my husband's new uniform!" cried one, and "Oh! the miniatures in the bottom of my trunk!" sighed another — while, "Oh! the silk dresses, and the ribbons, and the finery," formed the general chorus. No one thought of the provisions, although we had observed in our progress to shore, the 512 Jfort ©otoarb — <&ut Return 3£ome barrel of bread and the tub of ice, which Lieut. Hunter had providently brought for our refreshment, sailing away on the dancing waves. Among the boxes brought to land, and ''toted" up the steep bank, was one con- taining some loaves of sugar and packages of tea, which I had bought for our winter's sup- ply, from the sutler at the post. The young Indian, who was the bearer of it, set it upon the ground, and soon called my attention to a thick, white stream that was oozing from the corner. I made signs for him to taste it. He dipped his finger in it, and exclaimed with delight to his companions, when he per- ceived what it was. I then pointed to his hatchet, and motioned him to open the box. He did not require a second invitation — it was soon hacked to pieces. Then, as I beckoned up all the rest of the youngsters who were looking on, full of won- der, such a scrambling and shouting with de- light succeeded as put us all, particularly the boys, into fits of laughter. Bowls, dippers, hands, everything that could contain even the smallest quantity were put in requisition. The squaws were most active. Those who could do no better, took the stoutest frag- ments of the blue paper in which the sugar had been enveloped, and in a trice, nothing remained but the wet, yellow bundles of tea, S*3 Wbt "Carlp 3@ap" in tfje JBLorrthJUestf and the fragments of the splintered box which had contained it. By this time, fires had been made, and the articles from the trunks were soon seen cov- ering every shrub and bush in the vicinity. Fortunately, that containing the "new uni- form," had been piled high above the others, in the centre of the boat, and had received but little damage, but sad was the condition of the wardrobes in general. Not a white article was to be seen. All was mottled, blue-green, red, and black, in- termingling in streaks, and dripping from ends and corners. To add to the trouble, the rain began to fall, as rain is apt to do in a wild, unsheltered country, and soon the half-dried garments had to be gathered out of the smoke, and huddled away in a most discouraging condition. The tent was pitched, wet as it was, and the blankets, wrung out of the water, and partially dried, were spread upon the ground for our accommodation at night. A Hamburgh cheese which had been a part of my stores, was voted to me for a pillow, and, after a supper, the best part of which, was a portion of one of the wet loaves which had remained in a barrel too tightly wedged to drift away, we betook ourselves to our repose. 5H Jfort 2£otoarti— 0uv Return ^ome The next morning rose hot and sultry. The musquitoes, which the rain had kept at bay through the night, now began to make themselves amends, and to torment us un- mercifully. After our most uncomfortable and unpala- table breakfast, the first question for con- sideration was, what we were to do with ourselves. Our boat lay submerged at the foot of the hill, half way up the rapids. The nearest habitation among the Wabeenakees was some miles distant, and this there was no means of reaching, but by an Indian canoe, if some of our present friends and neighbors would be so obliging as to bring one for our use. Even then it was doubtful if boats could be found sufficient to convey all our numer- ous party back to Green Bay. In the midst of these consultations a whoop was heard from beyond the hill, which here sloped away to the north, at the head of the rapids. "There is John ! that is certainly his voice ! " cried more than one of the company. It was, indeed, my husband, and in a mo- ment he was amongst us. Never v/as arrival more opportune, more evidently providen- tial. Not having learned our plans, for the un- settled state of the country had prevented 515 TOje "€arlp ®ap" in tfje J?ortft=«ie£t our sending him word, he had come provided with a boat, to take us to Fort Winnebago. Our drying operations, which we had re- commenced this morning, were soon cut short. Everything was shuffled away in the most expeditious manner possible, and in an incredibly short time we were transferred to the other boat, which lay quietly above the Chute, and were pulling away towards Win- nebago Lake. We had resolved to go only so far as the vicinity of the lake, where the breeze would render the musquitoes less intolerable, and then to stop and make one more attempt at drying our clothing. Accordingly, when we reached a beautiful high bank near the Little Butte, we stopped for that purpose again, unpacked our trunks, and soon every bush and twig was fluttering with the spoils of the cruel waves. Hardly had we thus disposed of the last rag, or ribbon when the tramp of horses was heard, followed by loud shouts and cheers ringing through the forest. A company of about twenty-five horse- men, with banners flying, veils fluttering from their hats, and arms glittering in the sun, rode into our midst, and amid greetings and roars of laughter, inquired into the nature and reasons of our singular state of confusion. 5 i6 Jfort Hotoarb — &uv Return Home They were Colonel Stambaugh and Alex- ander Irwin of Green Bay, with a company of young volunteers, and followed by a whooping band of Menomonees, all bound for the seat of war. We comforted them with the assurance that the victories were by this time all won, and the scalps taken; but, ex- pressing the hope that there were yet a few laurels to be earned, they bade us adieu, and rapidly pursued their march. 134 We crossed Lake Winnebago by the clear beautiful light of a summer moon. The soft air was just enough to swell the sail, and thus save the men their labor at the oar. The witchery of the hour was not, how- ever, sufficient to induce us to forego our repose after the heat and annoyances of the day — we therefore disposed ourselves be- times to be packed away in the centre of the boat. How it was accomplished, no one of the numerous company could tell. If any ac- cident had occurred to disturb our arrange- ment, I am sure it would have been a Chinese puzzle to put us back again in our places. 134 They presently won a "glorious victory" by mas- sacring the surviving remnant of the forlorn fugitives — chiefly women and children — who were dispatched down the Wisconsin on rafts during the battle of Wis- consin Heights, in the hope of finding refuge west of the Mississippi. — Ed. 517 GOfje "Carlp 2Sap" in tije i£ortf)=Hlest The men on the outside had much the best of it, and we rather envied those who were off watch their ability to snore and change as the humor took them. We reached Powell's just in time to have gone ashore and prepared our breakfast, had we had wherewithal to prepare it. We had hoped to be able to procure some supplies here, for hitherto we had been living on the remains of my husband's ample stock. That was now so nearly exhausted that when we found the mess-basket could not be replen- ished at this place, we began to talk of put- ting ourselves on allowance. The wet bread, of which there had re- mained an ample store had, as may be readily imagined, soon fermented under the influ- ence of a July sun. The tea too, notwith- standing our careful efforts at drying it on newspapers and pieces of board, ere long be- came musty and unfit for use. There was, literally, nothing left, except the sotted meat, and a few crackers, hardly sufficient for the present day. The men were therefore urged to make all the speed possible, that we might reach Glea- son's at Lake Puckaway in good season on the following day. At evening, when we stopped to take our tea at a beautiful little opening among the 5 i8 jfort ©otoarb — 0uv Return ©ome trees, we found our old enemies, the musqui- toes worse than ever. It was necessary to put on our cloaks and gloves, and tie our veils close around our throats, only venturing to introduce a cracker or a cup of tea under this protection in the most stealthy manner. The men rowed well, and brought us to Gleason's about eleven o'clock the next day. We were greeted with the most enthusiastic demonstrations by my old friend La Grosse Americaine who had removed here from Bellefontaine. "Oh! Mrs. Armstrong," cried we, "get us some breakfast — we are famishing." At that instant who should appear but our faithful Mata, driving the little old calash in which we were in the habit of making our little excursions in the neighborhood of the fort. He had ridden over, hoping to meet us, in the idea that some of us would prefer this method of reaching our home. With provident thoughtfulness he had brought tea, roasted coffee, fresh butter, eggs, etc., lest we should be short of such lux- uries in that advanced stage of our journey. His "Good morning, Madame Johns ! How do you dos?" was a pleasant and welcome sound. We could not wait for our breakfast, but gathered round La Grosse Americaine like a 519 {Wje "Carl? 3Sap" in ttje 38>ortf)=Weat parcel of children while she cut and spread slices of bread and butter for us. After our regular meal was finished it was decided that sister Margaret should take Jo- sette, and return with Mata to open the house and make it ready for our reception. It had been the head-quarters of militia, In- dians, and stragglers of various descriptions during our absence, and we could easily im- agine that a little "misrule and unreason" might have had sway for that period. We had yet seventy-two miles, by the de- vious winding course of the river, over first the beautiful waters of Lac de Boeuf, and then through the low marshy lands that spread away to the Portage. An attempt was made on the part of one of the gentlemen to create a little excitement among the ladies as we approached the spot where it had been supposed the Sauks might pass on their way to the Chippewa country. "Who knows," said he gravely, "but they may be lurking in this neighborhood — yet if so, we shall probably have some signal — we must be on the alert!" Some of the ladies began to turn pale and look about them. After an interval of perfect silence, a low pro- longed whistle was heard. There was so much agitation, and actual terror, that the mischievous author of the trick was obliged 520 Jfort J^otDarb — ®ux Return J^ome to confess at once, and receive a hearty scolding for the pain he had caused. Just before sunset of the second day from Gleason's we reached our home. Every thing was radiant with neatness and good order. With the efficient aid of our good Manaigre and his wife the house had been white- washed from the roof to the door sill — a thor- ough scrubbing and cleansing effected — the carpets unpacked and spread upon the floors, the furniture arranged, and though last not least, a noble supper smoked upon the board by the time we had made, once more, a civil- ized toilette. Many of our friends from the fort were there to greet us, and a more happy or thank- ful party has seldom been assembled. 521 Chapter 35 SURRENDER OF WINNEBAGO PRISONERS THE war was now considered at an end. The news of the battle of the Bad Axe, where the regulars, the mili- tia, and the Steamboat Warrior combined, had made a final end of the remaining hand- ful of Sauks, had reached us and restored tranquillity to the hearts and homes of the frontier settlers. It may seem wonderful that an enemy, so few in number, and so insignificant in resources, could have created such a panic, and required so vast an amount of opposing force to subdue them. The difficulty had been simply in never knowing where to find them, either to attack or guard against them. Probably at the outset every military man thought and felt like the noble old veteran General Brady, 135 "Give me two Infantry 135 Hugh Brady entered the army as an ensign in 1792; although his service was not continuous, prior to 1 8 12, he served from that time until his death in 1851, rising to the rank of brevet major general in 1848. Fort Brady (at Sault Ste. Marie) was built by him, and was named in his honor. — Ed. 522 S>urrenber of JHtnnebago $ri£oner£ companies mounted," said he, "and I will engage to whip the Sauks out of the country in one week!" True, but to whip the enemy, you must first meet him; and in order to pursue effec- tually, and catch the Indians, a peculiar training is necessary — a training which, at that day, but few, even of the frontier mili- tia, could boast. In some portions of this campaign there was another difficulty, the want of concert between the two branches of the service. The regular troops looked with some con- tempt upon the unprofessional movements of the militia — the militia railed at the dila- tory and useless formalities of the regulars. Each avowed the conviction that matters could be much better conducted without the other, and the militia being prompt to act, sometimes took matters into their own hands, and brought on defeat and disgrace, as in the affair of "Stillman's Run." 136 The feeling of contempt which some of the army officers entertained for the militia, 136 At Stillman's Run, on May 14, 1832, Black Hawk with some forty warriors drove 340 Illinois militia from the field in wild and ignominious flight. A handful of soldiers fought and died at their post, while the shame- ful Might of their comrades went on around them. — Ed. 523 tCfje "Carl? ©ap" in tfte J?ortfj=3Ue$t extended itself to their subordinates and de- pendants. After the visit of the Ranger offi- cers to Fort Winnebago, before the battle of the Wisconsin, the officer of the mess where they had been entertained, called up his serv- ant one day to inquire into the Sutler's ac- counts. He was the same little "Yellow David" who had formerly appertained to Captain Harney. "David," said the young gentleman, "I see three bottles of cologne-water charged in the month's account of the mess at the Sut- ler's. What does that mean?" "If you please, Lieutenant," said David respectfully " it was to sweeten up the dining- room and quarters, after them milish officers were here visiting." Black Hawk and a few of his warriors had escaped to the north, where they were shortly after captured by the One-eyed Day-kay-ray and his party, and brought prisoners to General Street at Prairie du Chien. The women and children of the band had been put in canoes and sent down the Mississippi, in hopes of being per- mitted to cross and reach the rest of their tribe. The canoes had been tied together, and many of them had been upset, and the chil- dren drowned, their mothers being too weak 524 gmrrenber of HJtnnebago $Jrtecmer£ and exhausted to rescue them. The sur- vivors were taken prisoners, and starving and miserable, they were brought to Prairie du Chien. Our mother was at the fort at the time of their arrival. She described their condition as wretched and reduced beyond anything she had ever witnessed. One woman who spoke a little Chippewa gave her an account of the sufferings and hardships they had endured — it was truly appalling. After having eaten such of the horses as could be spared they had subsisted on acorns, elm-bark, or even grass. Many had died of starvation, and their bodies had been found lying in their trail by the pur- suing whites. This poor woman had lost her husband in battle, and all her chil- dren by the upsetting of the canoe in which they were, and her only wish now was, to go and join them. Poor Indians! who can wonder that they do not love the whites? But a very short time had we been quietly at home, when a summons came to my hus- band to collect the principal chiefs of the Winnebagoes and meet Gen. Scott and Gov. Reynolds at Rock Island, where it was proposed to hold a treaty for the pur- chase of all the lands east and south of the S*5 Wisconsin. 137 Messengers were accordingly sent to collect them, and, accompanied by as many as chose to report themselves, he set off on his journey. He had been gone about two weeks, and I was beginning to count the days which must elapse before I could reasonably expect his return, when, one afternoon, I went over to pay a visit to my sister at the fort. As I passed into the large hall that ran through the quarters, Lieut. Lacy came suddenly in, from the opposite direction, and almost with- out stopping, cried, "Bad news, madam! Have you heard it?" "No. What is it?" "The cholera has broken out at Rock Island, and they are dying by five hundred a day. Dr. Finley has just arrived with the 137 By the treaty dictated at Rock Island in Septem- ber, 1832, the Winnebago were compelled to cede their ancient homeland in Wisconsin and Illinois to the United States and accept in its stead a tract in eastern Iowa. Although the Winnebago had not been a party to the war, some of their number had extended sym- pathy and perhaps covert aid to the Sauk, and appar- ently for this the tribe was now deprived of its country. Viewed in any light, their position was a hard one, and they were probably more sinned against than sinners. The Sauk were also compelled to cede an important strip of their land in eastern Iowa, the cession making possible the beginning of white settlement in that state. — Ed. 526 gsmrrenber of Hlmne&ago 3Prfeoner£ news." So saying, he vanished without stop- ping to answer a question. The cholera at Rock Island, and my hus- band there! I flew to the other door of the hall, which looked out upon the parade ground. A sentinel was walking near. ''Sol- dier," cried I, "will you run to the young officers' quarters and ask Dr. Finley to come here for a moment?" The man shook his head — he was not al- lowed to leave his post. Presently, Mrs. Lacy's servant girl ap- peared from a door under the steps. She was a worthless creature, but where help was so scarce, ladies could not afford to keep a scru- pulous tariff of moral qualifications. "Oh! Catherine," said I, "will you run over and ask Dr. Finley to come here a mo- ment ? I must hear what news he has brought from Rock Island." She put on a modest look and said, "I do not like to go to the young officers' quarters." I was indignant at her hypocrisy, but I was also wild with impatience, when to my great joy Dr. Finley made his appearance. "Where is my husband?" cried I. "On his way home, madam, safe and sound. He will probably be here to-morrow." He then gave me an account of the ravages 527 m>t "<£arlp ®ap" in tfje J|orti)=ffle*t the cholera was making among the troops, which were indeed severe, although less so than rumor had at first proclaimed. Notwithstanding the Doctor's assurance of his safety, my husband was seized with cholera on his journey. By the kind care of Paquette and the plentiful use of chicken- broth which the poor woman at whose cabin he stopped administered to him, he soon re- covered, and reached his home in safety, having taken Prairie du Chien in his route and brought his mother with him again to her home. The Indians had consented to the sale of their beautiful domain. Indeed, there is no alternative in such cases. If they persist in retaining them, and become surrounded and hemmed in by the white settlers, their situa- tion is more deplorable than if they surren- dered their homes altogether. This they are aware of, and therefore, as a general thing, they give up their lands at the proposal of Government, and only take care to make the best bargain they can for themselves. In this instance, they were to receive as an equivalent a tract of land* extending to the interior of Iowa, and an additional sum of ten thousand dollars annually. *A belt of land termed the Neutral Ground of the different opposing Nations. 528 gmrrenber of Mimtefmgo $rteoner£ One of the stipulations of the treaty was, the surrender by the Winnebagoes of certain individuals of their tribe accused of having participated with the Sauks in some of the murders on the frontier, in order that they might be tried by our laws, and acquitted or punished as the case might be. Wau-kaun-kau (the little Snake) volunta- rily gave himself as a hostage until the de- livery of the suspected persons. He was ac- cordingly received by the Agent, and marched over and placed in confinement at the fort, until the other seven accused should appear to redeem him. It was a work of some little time on the part of the nation to persuade these individ- uals to place themselves in the hands of the whites, that they might receive justice ac- cording to the laws of the latter. The trial of Red Bird, and his languishing death in prison, were still fresh in their memories, and it needed a good deal of resolution, as well as a strong conviction of conscious innocence, to brace them up to such a step. It had to be brought about by arguments and persuasion, for the nation would never have resorted to force to compel the fulfil- ment of their stipulation. In the mean time a solemn talk was held with the principal chiefs assembled at the 529 GTJje "Carlp 2Bap" in ttje Moxti)=Miz&t Agency. A great part of the nation were in the immediate neighborhood, in obedience to a notice sent by Governor Porter, 138 who, in virtue ot his office of Governor of Michigan Territory, was also Superintendent of the North West Division of the Indians. In- stead of calling upon the Agent to take charge of the annuity money, as had hereto- fore been the custom, he had announced his intention of bringing it himself to Fort Win- nebago, and being present at the payment. The time appointed had now arrived, and with it, the main body of the Winnebagoes. Such of the Indians as had not attended the treaty at Rock Island, and been instru- mental in the cession of their country, were loud in their condemnation of the step, and their lamentations over it. Foremost among these was Wild-Cat, the FalstafF of Garlic 138 0n Aug. 6, 1 83 1, President Jackson appointed George B. Porter of Pennsylvania to the position of Governor of Michigan Territory, made vacant by the promotion of Cass to the President's Cabinet as Sec- retary of War. Porter died of cholera at Detroit, July 6, 1834. One of the important acts of his brief adminis- tration was the negotiation of the Chicago treaty of 1833 providing for the removal of the Potawatomi from Illinois and Wisconsin, and the opening of their lands to white settlement. Porter was a man of impos- ing physique, and his presence was well calculated to inspire the natives with respect for their white "Father." —Ed. 530 g>urrenber of OTmnebago $rfeouer£ Island and its vicinity. It was little wonder that he should shed bitter tears, as he did, over the loss of his beautiful home on the blue waters of Winnebago Lake. " If he had not been accidentally stopped," he said, "on his way to the treaty, and de- tained until it was too late, he would never, never have permitted the bargain." His "father," who knew that a desperate frolic into which Wild-Cat had been enticed by the way was the cause of his failing to ac- company his countrymen to Rock Island, re- plied gravely, "That he had heard of the chief's misfor- tune on this occasion. How that, in ascend- ing the Fox River, a couple of kegs of whis- key had come floating down the stream, which, running foul of his canoe with great force, had injured it to such a degree that he had been obliged to stop several days at the Mee-kan, to repair damages." The shouts of laughter which greeted this explanation were so contagious that poor Wild-Cat himself was compelled to join in it, and treat his misfortune as a joke. The suspected Indians, having engaged the services of Judge Doty in their defence on their future trial, notice was at length given, that on a certain day they would be brought to the Portage and surrendered to 531 Cfje "<£arlp ©ap" in tfje Jiorti^JlKesrt their "father," to be by him transferred to the keeping of the military officer appointed to receive them. It was joyful news to poor Wau-kaun-kau, that the day of his release was at hand. Every time that we had been within the walls of the fort, we had been saluted by a call from him, as he kept his station at the guard- room window: "Do you hear anything of those Indians? When are they coming, that I may be let out?" We had endeavored to lighten his confine- ment by seeing that he was well supplied with food, and his "father" and Paquette had paid him occasional visits, but notwith- standing this, and the kindness he had re- ceived at the fort, his confinement was inex- pressibly irksome. On the morning of a bright autumnal day, notice was given that the Chiefs of the Na- tion would present themselves at the Agency to deliver the suspected persons as prisoners to the Americans. At the hour of ten o'clock, as we looked out over the Portage road, we could descry a moving concourse of people, in which bril- liant color, glittering arms, and, as they ap- proached still nearer, certain white objects of unusual appearance could be distinguished. S3* ismrrenber of Jilmnefaago $rteoner£ General Dodge, Major Plympton, and one or two other officers took their seats with Mr. Kinzie on the platform in front of the door to receive them, while we stationed our- selves at the window where we could both see and hear. The procession wound up the hill, and then came marching slowly towards us. It was a grand and solemn sight. First came some of the principal chiefs in their most brilliant array. Next, the prisoners all habited in white cotton, in token of their innocence, with girdles round their waists. The music of the drum and the Shee-shee-qua accom- panied their death-song, which they were chaunting. They wore no paint, no orna- ments — their countenances were grave and thoughtful. It might well be a serious mo- ment to them, for they knew but little of the custom of the whites, and that little was not such as to inspire cheerfulness. Only their "father's" assurance that they should re- ceive "strict justice," would probably have induced them to comply with the engage- ments of the nation in this manner. The remainder of the procession was made up of a long train of Winnebagoes, all decked out in their holiday garb. The chiefs approached and shook hands with the gentlemen who stood ready to 533 Cfje "€arlp Bap" in fte J?ortf)=«ie£t receive their greeting. Then the prisoners came forward, and went through the same salutation with the officers. When they of- fered their hands to their "father," he de- clined. "No," said he, "you have come here ac- cused of a great crime — of having assisted in taking the lives of some of the defenceless settlers. When you have been tried by the laws of the land, and been proved innocent, then, your 'father' will give you his hand." They looked still more serious at this ad- dress, as if they thought it indicated that their father, too, believed them guilty, and stepping back a little, they seated them- selves, without speaking, in a row upon the ground facing their "father" and the officers. The other Indians all took seats in a circle around them, except the one-eyed chief, Kau-ray-kau-say-kah, or the White Crow, who had been deputed to deliver the prison- ers to the Agent. He made a speech in which he set forth that, "although asserting their innocence of the charges preferred against them, his coun- trymen were quite willing to be tried by the laws of white men. He hoped they would not be detained long, but that the matter would be investigated soon, and that they would come out of it clear and white." 534 gburrenber of ifflmne&ago $rteoner£ In reply he was assured that all things would be conducted fairly and impartially, the same as if the accused were white men, and the hope was added that they would be found to have been good and true citizens, and peaceful children of their Great Father, the President. When this was over, White Crow re- quested permission to transfer the medal he had received from the President, as a mark of friendship, to his son, who stood beside him, and who had been chosen by the nation to fill his place as chief, an office he was de- sirous of resigning. The speeches made upon this occasion, as interpreted by Paquette, the modest demeanor of the young man, and the dignified yet feeling manner of the father throughout, made the whole ceremony highly impressive, and when the latter took the medal from his neck and hung it around that of his son, addressing him a few appropriate words, I think no one could have witnessed the scene unmoved. 139 139 Although suspected of giving aid and comfort to the hostile Sauk, White Crow had steadily protested his loyalty to the white cause, with entire sincerity as now seems probable. His reward — along with all the Winnebago nation — was to be now deprived of his country. He was no mean orator; for samples of his speeches see Miss. Valley Hist. Review, XII, 395 ff. — Ed. 535 £f)e "eatlp ©ap" in tfje &ovfy=Wit&t I had watched the countenances of the prisoners as they sat on the ground before me, while all these ceremonies were going for- ward. With one exception they were open, calm, and expressive of conscious innocence. Of that one I could not but admit there might be reasonable doubts. One was re- markably fine-looking — another was a boy of certainly not more than seventeen, and dur- ing the transfer of the medal he looked from one to the other, and listened to what was ut- tered by the speakers with an air and expres- sion of even child-like interest and satisfac- tion. Our hearts felt sad for them as, the cere- monies finished, they were conducted by a file of soldiers and committed to the dungeon of the guard-house, until such time as they should be summoned to attend the Court appointed to try their cause. S3& Cijapter 36 ESCAPE OF THE PRISONERS THE Indians did not disperse after the ceremonies of the surrender had been gone through. They continued still in the vicinity of the Portage, in the constant expectation of the arrival of the annuity money, which they had been summoned there to receive. But the time for setting out on his journey to bring it, was postponed by Gov. Porter from week to week. Had he foreseen all the evils this delay was to occa- sion, the Governor would, unquestionably, have been more prompt in fulfilling his ap- pointment. Many causes conspired to make an early payment desirable. In the first place, the Winnebagoes, having been driven from their homes by their anxiety to avoid all appear- ance of fraternizing with the Sacs, had made this year no gardens nor cornfields. They had, therefore, no provisions on hand, either for their present use, or for their winter's consumption, except their scanty supplies of wild rice. While this was disappearing dur- ing their protracted detention at the Portage, 537 Cfje "Carl? ®ap" m tfje J|orrt)=WJe*t they were running the risk of leaving them- selves quite unprovided with food, in case of a bad hunting season during the winter and spring. In the next place, the rations which the Agent had been accustomed, by the permis- sion of Government, to deal out occasionally to them, were now cut off by a scarcity in the Commissary's department. The frequent levies of the militia during the summer cam- paign, and the reinforcement of the garrison by the troops from Fort Howard had drawn so largely on the stores at this post, that there was every necessity for the most rigid econ- omy in the issuing of supplies. Foreseeing this state of things, Mr. Kin- zie, as soon as the war was at an end, com- missioned Mr. Kercheval 140 then sutler at Fort Howard, to procure him a couple of boat-loads of corn, to be distributed among 140 This was Benjamin B. Kercheval of Detroit. He was a native of Winchester, Va., who in early manhood found his way to Fort Wayne and somewhat later to Detroit. There he married, on Jan. 18, 1821, Maria Forsyth, a daughter of Robert Forsyth, John Kinzie's half-brother. Kercheval Avenue in Detroit is named for him. Gholson Kercheval of Chicago, who figures in Mrs. Kinzie's narrative as one of the three heroes who attended the dance at Hickory Creek, was evidently a relative of Benjamin, although the precise relationship has not been determined. — Ed. 538 (Escape of rtje $rteonetg the Indians. Unfortunately, there was no corn to be obtained from Michigan; it was necessary to bring it from Ohio, and by the time it at length reached Green Bay (for in those days business was never done in a hurry), the navigation of the Fox river had closed, and it was detained there, to be brought up the following spring. As day after day wore on and "the silver" did not make its appearance, the Indians were advised by their father to disperse to their hunting grounds to procure food, with the promise that they should be summoned immediately on the arrival of Gov. Porter; and this advice they followed. While they had been in our neighborhood, they had more than once asked permission to dance the scalp dance before our door. This is the most frightful, heart-curdling exhibi- tion that can possibly be imagined. The scalps are stretched on little hoops, or frames, and carried on the end of a pole. These are brandished about in the course of the dance, with cries, shouts and furious gestures. The women who commence as spectators, becom- ing excited with the scene and the music which their own discordant notes help to make more deafening, rush in, seize the scalps from the hands of the owners, and toss them frantically about with the screams and 539 Cfje "€arlp ®ap" tn tfje Moxtt)=Wittit yells of demons. I have seen as many as forty or fifty scalps figuring in one dance. Upon one occasion one was borne by an In- dian who approached quite near me, and I shuddered as I observed the long, fair hair, evidently that of a woman. Another Indian had the skin of a human hand, stretched and prepared with as much care as if it had been some costly jewel. When these dances oc- curred, as they sometimes did, by moonlight, they were peculiarly horrid and revolting. Amid so many events of a painful charac- ter, there were not wanting occasionally some that bordered on the ludicrous. One evening, while sitting at tea, we were alarmed by the sound of guns firing in the direction of the Wisconsin. All started up, and prepared, instinctively, for flight to the garrison. As we left the house, we found the whole bluff and the meadow below in com- motion. Indians running with their guns and spears across their shoulders, to the scene of alarm; squaws and children standing in front of their lodges and looking anxiously in the direction of the unusual and unaccountable sounds — groups of French and half-breeds, all like ourselves, fleeing to gain the bridge and place themselves within the pickets so lately erected. 540 escape of rtje $rteoner£ As one company of Indians passed us hur- riedly, some weapon carelessly carried hit one of our party on the side of the head. "Oh!" shrieked she, "I am killed! an Indian has tomahawked me!" and she was only re- assured by finding she could still run as fast as the best of us. When we reached the parade-ground, within the fort, we could not help laughing at the grotesque appearance each presented. Some without hats or shawls — others with packages of valuables hastily secured at the moment — one with her piece of bread and butter in hand, which she had not the presence of mind to lay aside when she took to flight. The alarm was, in the end, found to have proceeded from a party of Winnebagoes from one of the Barribault villages, who, being about to leave their home for a long period, were going through the ceremony of burying the scalps they and their fathers had taken. Like the military funerals among civilized nations, their solemnities were closed on this occasion by the discharge of several volleys over the grave of their trophies. At length, about the beginning of Novem- ber, Governor Porter, accompanied by Ma- jor Forsyth and Mr. Kercheval arrived with the annuity money. The Indians were again 541 W*t "<£arlp ®ap" in tfje &ovti)=Wltxt assembled — the payment was made, and having supplied themselves with a larger quantity of ammunition than usual, for they saw the necessity of a good hunt to remedy past and present deficiencies, they set off for their wintering grounds. We were, ourselves, about changing our quarters, to our no small satisfaction. Not- withstanding the Indian disturbances, the new Agency House (permission to build which had at length been accorded by Gov- ernment) had been going steadily on, and soon after the departure of the Governor and our other friends, we took possession of it. 141 We had been settled but a few weeks, when one morning Lieut. Davies appeared just as we were sitting down to breakfast, with a face full of consternation. " The Indian pris- oners had escaped from the black-hole! The Commanding officer, Col. Cutler, 142 had sent 141 The Agency House, whose building is here de- scribed by our author, still stands in an excellent state of preservation on "the little hill opposite the Fort." It has proved far more enduring than the fort itself, whose physical structures — save for the well and the military cemetery — have long since disappeared. — Ed. 142 Colonel Enos Cutler was for several years comman- dant of Fort Winnebago. He was a native of Brookfield, Mass., and a graduate of Brown University, who had entered the army as a lieutenant in 1808. He resigned in 1839 and died at Salem, Mass., July 14, i860. — Ed. 542 (Escape of tfje $rfeoner£ for Mr. Kinzie to come over to the fort, and counsel with him what was to be done." The prisoners had probably commenced their operations in planning escape very soon after being placed in the black-hole, a dun- geon in the basement of the guard-house. They observed that their meals were brought regularly, three times a day, and that in the intervals they were left entirely to them- selves. With their knives they commenced excavating an opening, the earth from which, as it was withdrawn, they spread about on the floor of their prison. A blanket was placed over this hole, and one of the com- pany was always seated upon it, before the regular time for the soldier who had charge of them to make his appearance. When the periodical visit was made, the Indians were always observed to be seated, smoking in the most orderly and quiet manner. There was never anything to excite suspicion. The prisoners had never read the memoirs of Baron Trenck, but they had watched the proceedings of the badgers; so, profiting by their example, they worked on, shaping the opening spirally, until, in about six weeks, they came out to the open air beyond the walls of the fort. That they might be as little encumbered as possible in their flight, they left their 543 Cfje "<£arlp 2Sap" in tfje JBtortf)=WIeat blankets behind them, and although it was bitter cold December weather, they took to the woods and prairies with only their cal- ico shirts and leggings for covering. We can readily believe that hope and exultation kept them comfortably warm, until they reached an asylum among their friends. It would be compromising our own reputa- tion as loyal and patriotic citizens, to tell of all the secret rejoicings this news occasioned us. The question now was, how to get the fu- gitives back again. The agent could promise no more than that he would communicate with the chiefs, and represent the wishes of the officers that the prisoners should once more surrender themselves, and thus free those who had had the charge of them from the imputation of carelessness, which the Government would be very likely to throw upon them. When, according to their custom, many of the chiefs assembled at the Agency, on New Year's day, their father laid the subject be- fore them. The Indians replied, that if they saw the young men, they would tell them what the officers would like to have them do. They could, themselves, do nothing in the matter. They had fulfilled their engagement by bringing them once and putting them in the 544 Cscape of tfje $rfeoner£ hands of the officers. The Government had had them in its power once and could not keep them — it must now go and catch them itself. "The Government" having had some ex- perience the past summer in "catching In- dians," wisely concluded to drop the matter. About this time another event occurred which occasioned no small excitement in our little community. Robineau, the striker from the blacksmith establishment at Sugar Creek, near the Four Lakes, arrived one very cold day at the Agency. He had come to procure medical aid for Mata's eldest daugh- ter, Sophy, who, while sliding on the lake, had fallen on the ice and been badly hurt. Her father was absent, having gone to Prai- rie du Chien, to place his youngest daughter at school. Two or three days had elapsed since the accident had happened, but as a high fever had set in, and the poor girl was in a state of great suffering, it had been thought best to send Robineau to us for advice and aid, leaving Turcotte and a friendly Indian woman from a neighboring lodge to take charge of poor Sophy. The commanding officer did not think it prudent, when the subject was laid before him, to permit the surgeon to leave the post, but he very cheerfully granted leave 545 Cfte "Carlp ®ap" in tfte Movfy=Wits£t of absence to Currie, the hospital steward, a young man who possessed some knowledge of medicine and surgery. As it was important that Sophy should have an experienced nurse, we procured the services of Madam Bellaire, the wife of the Frenchman who was generally employed as express to Chicago — and as an aid and com- panion, Agathe, daughter of Day-kau-ray, who lived in Paquette's family, was added to the party. Of Agathe I shall have more to say here- after, but at present I must proceed with my story. The weather was excessively cold when Robineau, Currie and the two women set out for Sugar Creek, a distance of about forty miles. We had taken care to provide them with a good store of rice, crackers, tea and sugar, for the invalid, all of which, with their provisions for the way, were packed on the horse Robineau had ridden to the Portage. It was expected they would reach their place of destination on the second day. What, then, was our surprise, to see Tur- cotte make his appearance on the fourth day after their departure, to inquire why Robi- neau had not returned with aid for poor So- phy ! There was but one solution of the mys- tery. Robineau had guided them as ill as he 546 (Escape of tfje prisoners had guided the boat at the Grande Chute the summer before, and although he could not shipwreck them, he had undoubtedly lost them in the woods or prairies. One com- fort was, that they could not well starve, for the rice and crackers would furnish them with several days' provisions, and with Aga- the, who must be accustomed to this kind of life, they could not fail in time of finding In- dians, and being brought back to the Por- tage. Still, day after day went on and we re- ceived no tidings of them. Turcotte returned to Sugar Creek with comforts and prescrip- tions for Sophy, and the commanding officer sent out a party to hunt for the missing ones, among whom poor Currie, from his delicate constitution, was the object of the greatest commiseration. As the snow fell, and the winds howled, we could employ ourselves about nothing but walking from window to window watching, in hopes of seeing some one appear in the dis- tance. No Indians were at hand whom we could despatch upon the search, and by the tenth day we had almost given up in despair. It was then that the joyful news was sud- denly brought us, "They are found! They are at the Fort!" A party of soldiers who had been exploring had encountered them at 547 aCfje "Carl? ®aj>" tn tbt J|ortf)=«le*t Hastings' Woods, twelve miles distant, slowly and feebly making their way back to the Portage. They knew they were on the right track, but had hardly strength to pur- sue it. Exhausted with cold and hunger, for their provisions had given out two days before, they had thought seriously of killing the horse and eating him — nothing but Currie's inability to proceed on foot, and the dread of being compelled to leave him in the woods to perish, had deterred them. Agathe had from the first been convinced that they were on the wrong track, but Rob- ineau, with his usual obstinacy, persevered in keeping it until it brought them to the Rock River, when he was obliged to acknowl- edge his error, and they commenced retrac- ing their steps. Agathe, according to the custom of her people, had carried her hatchet with her, and thus they had always had a fire at night, and boughs to shelter them from the storms, otherwise they must inevitably have per- ished. There were two circumstances which aroused in us a stronger feeling even than that of sympathy. The first was, the miser- able Robineau having demanded of Currie, first, all his money, and afterwards his 548 (Escape of tfje Prisoner* watch, as a condition of his bringing the party back into the right path, which he averred he knew perfectly well. The second was, Bellaire having given his kind, excellent wife a hearty flogging "for going off," as he said, "on such a fool's er- rand." The latter culprit was out of our jurisdic- tion, but Mons. Robineau was discharged on the spot, and warned that he might think himself happy to escape a legal process for swindling. I am happy to say that Sophy Mata, in whose behalf all these sufferings had been en- dured, was quite recovered by the time her father returned from "the Prairie." 549 Chapter 37 AGATH E TOMAH A GATHE was the daughter of an Indian /-\ who was distinguished by the name -*- A. of Rascal Day-kau-ray. Whether he merited the appellation must be determined hereafter. He was brother to the grand old chief of that name, but as unlike him as it is possible for those of the same blood to be. The Day-kau-rays were a very handsome family, and this daughter was remarkable for her fine personal appearance. A tall, well-developed form, a round sweet face, and that peculiarly soft, melodious voice which belongs to the women of her people, would have attracted the attention of a stranger, while the pensive expression of her counte- nance irresistibly drew the hearts of all to- wards her, and prompted the wish to know more of her history. As I received it from her friend, Mrs. Paquette, it was indeed a touching one. A young officer at the fort had seen her and had set, I will not say his heart — it may be doubted if he had one — but his mind upon her. He applied to Paquette to negotiate 550 &gatfje — Comaft what he called a marriage with her. I am sorry to say that Paquette was induced to enter into this scheme. He knew full well the sin of making false representations to the family of Agathe, and he knew the misery he was about to bring upon her. The poor girl was betrothed to a young man of her own people, and, as is generally the case, the attachment on both sides was very strong. Among these simple people, who have few subjects of thought or specula- tion beyond the interests of their daily life, their affections and their animosities form the warp and woof of their character. All their feelings are intense, from being concen- trated on so few objects. Family relations, particularly with the women, engross the whole amount of their sensibilities. The marriage connection is a sacred and indissoluble tie. I have read, in a recent re- port to the Historical Society of Wisconsin, that, in former times, a temporary marriage between a white man and a Menomonee woman was no uncommon occurrence, and that such an arrangement brought no scan- dal. I am afraid that if such cases were in- vestigated, a good deal of deceit and misrep- resentation would be found to have been added to the other sins of the transaction; and that the woman would be found to have 551 ©fie "earlp ©ap" in tfje J^ortf)4Hes;t been a victim, instead of a willing partici- pant, in such a connexion. 143 At all events, no system of this kind exists among the Winnebagoes. The strictest sense of female propriety is a distinguishing trait among them. A woman who transgresses it, 143 0ur author's narrative of Agathe should be valued more for its literary than its historical quality. To attribute to the untutored red man the concept of the marriage relation which was held by a cultivated Xew England woman is but a perversion of patent facts. The union of white men with native women was a well- nigh universal custom in the Indian country. Occa- sionally such unions proved permanent, but more often they did not; frequently they were regarded from the beginning as merely temporary in character. Xo par- ticular wrong was done the woman, at least from the native point of view, since the white concept of chastity was wholly unknown to her. The culture to which the red man had attained still largely retained the idea, common everywhere in primitive life, of the woman as the property of her husband or parents. For the hus- band to offer his wife, or the father his daughter, to his visitor as companion for the night, was an act of ordi- nary hospitality. The subject of the marriage institu- tion is a complex one, admitting of much individual variation from tribe to tribe, yet two generalizations may be advanced as at least measurably true to fact; marriage as known to civilized races, has chiefly evolved from the institution of property, and its trans- mission to heirs; whenever a superior race comes into contact with an inferior one, the men of the former will cohabit with the women of the latter. As a postscript, it may be added that the native women will ordinarily covet such association. — Ed. ggatfje — tKomafj is said to have " forgotten herself," and is sure to be cast off and " forgotten " by her friends. The marriage proposed between the young officer and the daughter of Day-kau-ray, was understood as intended to be true and last- ing. The father would not have exposed him- self to the contempt of his whole nation by selling his daughter to become the mistress of any man. The Day-kau-rays, as I have elsewhere said, were not a little proud of a remote cross of French blood which mingled with the aboriginal stream in their veins, and probably in acceding to the proposed connec- tion, the father of Agathe was as much in- fluenced by what he considered the honor to be derived, as by the amount of valuable presents which accompanied the overtures made to him. Be that as it may, the poor girl was torn from her lover, and transferred from her fa- ther's lodge to the quarters of the young officer. There were no ladies in the garrison at that time. Had there been, such a step would hardly have been ventured. Far away in the wilderness, shut out from the salutary influences of religious and social cul- tivation, what wonder that the moral sense sometimes becomes blinded, and that the choice is made, ''Evil, be thou my good!" 553 W$t "<£arlp 2Sap" in tfje JlortfhJUest The first step in wrong was followed by one still more aggravated in cruelty. The young officer left the post, as he said, on fur- lough, but he never returned. The news came that he was married, and when he again joined his regiment it was at another post. There was a natural feeling in the strength of the "woe pronounced against him" by more tongues than one. "He will never," said my informant, "dare show himself in this country again! Not an Indian who knows the Day-kau-rays but would take his life if he should meet him!" Every tie was broken for poor Agathe but that which bound her to her infant. She never returned to her father's lodge, for she felt that, being deserted, she was dishonored. Her sole ambition seemed to be to bring up her child like those of the whites. She at- tired it in the costume of the French chil- dren, with a dress of bright calico, and a cap of the same, trimmed with narrow black lace. It was a fine child, and the only time I ever saw a smile cross her face, was when it was commended and caressed by some member of our family. Even this, her only source of happiness, poor Agathe was called upon to resign. Dur- ing our absence at Green Bay, while the Sauks were in the neighborhood, the child 554 Sgatfje— Gftmtaf) was taken violently ill. The house at Pa- quette's, which was the mother's home, was thronged with Indians, and of course there was much noise and disturbance. A place was prepared for her under our roof, where she could be more quiet, and receive the at- tendance of the post physician. It was all in vain — nothing could save the little creature's life. The bitter agony of the mother, as she hung over the only treasure she possessed on earth, was described to me as truly heart- rending. When compelled to part with it, it seemed almost more than nature could bear. There were friends, not of her own nation or color, who strove to comfort her. Did the father ever send a thought or an inquiry after the fate of his child, or of the young be- ing whose life he had rendered dark and deso- late? We will hope that he did — that he re- pented and asked pardon from above for the evil he had wrought. Agathe had been baptized by M. Mazzu- chelli. Perhaps she may have acquired some religious knowledge which could bring her consolation in her sorrows, and compensate her for the hopes and joys so early blasted. She came, some months after the death of her child, in company with several of the half-breed women of the neighborhood, to pay me a visit of respect and congratulation. 555 atfje "€arlp Bap" in fye MoxtfcWlt&t When she looked at her " little brother/' as he was called, and took his soft tiny hand within her own, the tears stood in her eyes, and she spoke some little words of tender- ness, which showed that her heart was full. I could scarcely refrain from mingling my tears with hers, as I thought on all the sor- row and desolation that one man's selfish- ness had occasioned. Early in February, 1833, m y husband and Lieut. Hunter, in company with one or two others, set off on a journey to Chicago. That place had become so much of a town (it con- tained perhaps fifty inhabitants), that it was necessary for the proprietors of "Kinzie's Addition" to lay out lots and open streets through their property. All this was accom- plished during the present visit. 144 While they were upon the ground with a surveyor, the attention of my husband was drawn towards a very bright-looking boy in Indian costume, who went hopping along by 144 The time of this visit to Chicago is probably mis- stated by Mrs. Kinzie. The boom at Chicago began with the opening of the summer of 1833. Until this development, no motive existed for platting the Kinzie addition. This fact aside, it seems certain that a journey by wagon between Fort Winnebago and Chicago would not have been attempted, or carried out, in mid- winter. — Ed. 556 the side of the assistant who carried the chain, mimicking him as in the course of his operations he cried, "stick!" "stuck!" He inquired who the lad was, and to his surprise learned that he was the brother of the old family servants, Victoire, Genevieve and Baptiste. Tomah, 145 for that was his name, had never been arrayed in civilized costume; he was in blanket and leggins, and had always lived in a wigwam. My husband in- quired if he would like to go to Fort Winne- bago with him, and learn to be a white boy. The idea pleased him much, and his mother having given her sanction to the arrange- ment, he was packed in a wagon, with the two gentlemen and their travelling gear, and they set forth on their return journey. Tomah had been equipped in jacket and pants, with the other articles of apparel nec- essary to his new sphere and character. They were near the Aux Plains, and approaching the residence of Glode (Claude) Lafram- boise, where Tomah knew he should meet acquaintances. He asked leave to get out of 145 "Tomah" was Thomas Mirandeau, son of the Milwaukee trader, Jean Baptiste Mirandeau and his Indian wife, for whom see ante, 348. At the Chicago treaty of September, 1833, the sum of #1200 was apportioned to Tomah and three of his brothers and sisters, with the proviso that John H. Kinzie should act as trustee of the fund. — Ed. 557 Wf)t "Carlp 3Saj>" in tfje J|ortf)=fflefirt the wagon and walk a little way. When they next saw him, he was in full Pottowattamie costume, and although it was bitter winter weather, he had put on his uncomfortable native garb rather than show himself to his old friends in a state of transformation. On his arrival at Fort Winnebago, our first care was to furnish him with a complete wardrobe, which, having been placed in a box in his sleeping apartment, was put under his charge. Words cannot express his delight as the valuable possessions were confided to him. Every spare moment was devoted to their contemplation. Now and then Tomah would be missing. He was invariably found seated by the side of his little trunk, folding and re- folding his clothes, laying them now length- wise, now crosswise, the happiest of mortals. The next step was, to teach him to be use- ful. Such little offices were assigned to him at first as might be supposed not altogether new to him, but we soon observed that when there was anything in the shape of work, To- mah slipt off to bed, even if it were before he had taken his supper. Some fish were given him one evening to scale; it was just at dark; but Tom, according to custom, retired at once to bed. The cook came to inquire what was to be done. I was under the necessity of calling in 558 ggatfje — QTomafj my husband's aid as interpreter. He sent for Tomah. When he came into the parlor, Mr. Kinzie said to him in Pottowattamie: — " There are some fish, Tomah, in the kitchen, and we want you to scale them." "Now?" exclaimed Tom, with an expres- sion of amazement, "it is very late." A young lady, Miss Rolette, who was vis- iting us, and who understood the language, could not refrain from bursting into a laugh at the simplicity with which the words were uttered, and we joined her for sympathy, at which Tom looked a little indignant, but when he understood that it was the white custom to scale the fish at night, and put salt and pepper on them, he was soon reconciled to do his duty in the matter. His next office was to lay the table. There was a best service of china, which was to be used when we had company, and a best set of teaspoons, which I kept in the drawer of a bureau in my own room above stairs. I was in the habit of keeping this drawer locked, and putting the key under a small clock on the mantel-piece. The first time that I had shown Tomah how to arrange matters for visitors, I had brought the silver and put it on the table myself. Soon after, we were to have company to tea again, and I explained to Tomah that 559 GMje "€arlp 2Sap" m tfje Maxti)=Mz&t the best china must be used. What was my surprise, on going through the dining-room a short time after, to see not only the new china, but the "company silver" also on the table. I requested my mother to inquire into the matter. Tomah said, very coolly, "He got the sil- ver where it was kept." "Did he find the drawer open?" "No — he opened it with a key." "Was the key in the drawer?" "No — it was under that thing on the shelf." "How did he know it was kept there?" This was what Mr. Tomah declined tell- ing. We could never ascertain whether he had watched my movements at any time. No one had ever seen him in that part of the house, and yet there could scarcely an article be mentioned of which Tomah did not know the whereabout. If any one was puzzled to find a thing it was always, "Ask Tomah — he will tell you." And so in fact he did. He was a subject of much amusement to the young officers. We were to have "a party" one evening — all the fam- ilies and young officers at the fort. To make Tomah's appearance as professional as pos- sible, we had made him a white apron with long sleeves to put on while he was helping 560 ggatfje— QComaf) Mary and Josette to carry round tea — for I must acknowledge that Tomah's clothes were not kept in as nice order out of the trunk as in it. Tom was delighted with his new costume, as well as with the new employment. He ac- quitted himself to perfection, for he had never any difficulty in imitating what he saw another do. After tea we had some music. As I was standing by the piano at which one of the ladies was seated, Lt. Vancleve said to me in a low tone, "Look behind you a moment." I turned. There sat Tom between two of the company, as stately as possible, with his white apron smoothed down, and his hands clasped before him, listening to the music, and on the best possible terms with himself and all around him. Julian and Edwin were hardly able to restrain their merriment, but they were afraid to do or say anything that would cause him to move before the com- pany had had a full enjoyment of the scene. It was voted unanimously that Tomah should be permitted to remain and enjoy the pleasures of society for one evening — but, with characteristic restlessness, he got tired as soon as the music was over, and uncere- moniously took his leave of the company. 5 6i Chapter 38 CONCLUSION WHAT we had long anticipated of the sufferings of the Indians, began to manifest itself as the spring drew on. It first came under our observation by the accounts brought in, by those who came in little parties begging for food. As long as it was possible to issue occa- sional rations their father continued to do so, but the supplies in the Commissary Depart- ment were now so much reduced that Col. Cutler did not feel justified in authorizing anything beyond a scanty relief, and this in extreme cases. We had ourselves throughout the winter used the greatest economy with our own stores, that we might not exhaust our slen- der stock of flour and meal before it could be replenished from "below." We had even purchased some sour flour which had been condemned by the commissary, and had con- trived by a plentiful use of saleratus, and a due proportion of potatoes, to make of it a very palatable kind of bread. But as we had continued to give to party after party, as 562 Conclusion they would come to us to represent their famishing condition, the time at length ar- rived when we had nothing to give. The half-breed families of the neighbor- hood, who had, like ourselves, continued to share with the needy as long as their own stock lasted, were now obliged, of necessity, to refuse further assistance. These women often came in to lament with us over the sad accounts that were brought from the winter- ing grounds. It had been a very open win- ter. The snow had scarcely been enough at any time to permit the Indians to track the deer, in fact, all the game had been driven off by the troops and war parties scouring the country through the preceding summer. We heard of their dying by companies from mere destitution, and lying stretched in the road to the Portage, whither they were striving to drag their exhausted frames. Soup made of the bark of the slippery elm, or stewed acorns, was the only food that many had subsisted on for weeks. We had for a long time received our food by daily rations from the garrison, for things had got to such a pass that there was no possibility of obtaining a barrel of flour at a time. After our meals were finished, I always went into the pantry, and collecting carefully every remaining particle of food 563 "ftfje €adp ®ap" in tfje Movti)=Wit&t set it aside to be given to some of the wretched applicants by whom we were con- stantly thronged. One day as I was thus employed, a face appeared at the window with which I had once been familiar. It was the pretty daugh- ter of the elder Day-kau-ray. She had for- merly visited us often, watching with great interest our employments — our sewing, or weeding and cultivating the garden, or our reading. Of the latter, I had many times en- deavored to give her some idea, showing her the plates in the Family Bible, and doing my best to explain them to her, but of late I had quite lost sight of her. Now, how changed, how wan she looked! As I addressed her with my ordinary phrase, " Tshah-ko-zhah?" (What is it?) she gave a sigh that was almost a sob. She did not beg, but her countenance spoke volumes. I took my dish and handed it to her, expecting to see her devour the contents ea- gerly, but no — she took it, and making signs that she would soon return, walked away. When she brought it back, I was almost sure she had not tasted a morsel herself. The boats — the boats with the corn! Why did they not come? We both wrote and sent to hasten them, but alas! everything and 564 Conclusion everybody moved so slowly in those unen- terprising times! We could only feel sure that they would come when they were ready, and not a moment before. We were soon obliged to keep both doors and windows fast, to shut out the sight of misery we could not relieve. If a door was opened for the admission of a member of the family, some wretched mother would rush in, grasp the hand of my infant, and placing that of her famishing child within it, tell us pleadingly, that he was imploring "his little brother" for food. The stoutest-hearted man could not have beheld with dry eyes the heart-rending spectacle which often pre- sented itself. It was in vain that we screened the lower portion of our windows with cur- tains. They would climb up on the outside, and tier upon tier of gaunt, wretched faces would peer in above, to watch us, and see if, indeed, we were as ill-provided as we repre- sented ourselves. The noble old Day-kau-ray came one day, from the Barribault, to apprise us of the state of his village. More than forty of his people, he said, had now been for many days without food, save bark and roots. My husband accompanied him to the com- manding officer to tell his story, and ascer- tain if any amount of food could be obtained 565 W$t "€arlp 3Dap" in tfte Jlorrtj-JUest from that quarter. The result was, the promise of a small allowance of flour, suffi- cient to alleviate the cravings of his own family. When this was explained to the chief, he turned away. "No," he said, "if his people could not be relieved, he and his family would starve with them!" And he refused, for those nearest and dearest to him, the proffered succor, until all could share alike. The announcement, at length, that "the boats were in sight," was a thrilling and most joyful sound. Hundreds of poor creatures were at once assembled on the bank, watching their ar- rival. Oh! how torturing was their slow ap- proach, by the winding course of the river, through the extended prairie! As the first boat touched the bank, we, who were gaz- ing on the scene with anxiety and impa- tience only equalled by that of the sufferers, could scarcely refrain from laughing, to see old Wild-Cat, who had somewhat fallen off in his huge amount of flesh, seize "the Washington Woman" in his arms, and hug and dance with her in the ecstasy of his delight. Their father made a sign to them all to fall to work with their hatchets, which they had long held ready, and in an incredibly short $66 Conclusion time, barrel after barrel was broken open and emptied, while even the little children pos- sessed themselves of pans and kettles full, and hastened to the fires that were blazing around to parch and cook that which they had seized. From this time forward, there was no more destitution. The present abundance was followed by the arrival of supplies for the Commissary's Department; and re- freshed and invigorated, our poor children departed once more to their villages, to make ready their crops for the ensuing season. In the course of the spring, we received a visit from the Rev. Mr. Kent, and Mrs. Kent, of Galena. This event is memorable, as being the first occasion on which the Gospel, according to the Protestant faith, was preached at Fort Winnebago. The large parlor of the hospital was fitted up for the service, and gladly did we each say to the other, "Let us go to the house of the Lord!" For nearly three years had we lived here without the blessing of a public service of praise and thanksgiving. We regarded this commencement as an omen of better times, and our little "sewing society" worked with renewed industry, to raise a fund which 567 Wi)t "Carlp Bap" in tye J?ortf)=ffle*t might be available hereafter, in securing the permanent services of a missionary. Not long after this, on a fine spring morn- ing, as we were seated at breakfast, a party of Indians entered the parlor, and came to the door of the room where we were. Two of them passed through, and went out upon a small portico — the third remained standing in the door-way at which he had at first ap- peared. He was nearly opposite me, and as I raised my eyes, spite of his change of dress, and the paint with which he was covered, I at once recognized him. I continued to pour the coffee, and as I did so, I remarked to my husband, "The one behind you, with whom you are speaking, is one of the escaped prisoners." Without turning his head, he continued to listen to all the directions they were giving him about the repairing of their guns, traps, &c, which they wished to leave with the blacksmith. As they went on, he cautiously turned his head towards the parlor door, and replied to the one speaking to him from there. When he again addressed me, it was to say, "You are right, but it is no affair of ours. We are none of us to look so as to give him notice that we suspect anything. They are 568 Conclusion undoubtedly innocent, and have suffered enough already." Contrary to his usual custom, their father did not ask their names, but wrote their di- rections, which he tied to their different im- plements, and then bade them go and de- liver them themselves to M. Morrin. The rest of our circle were greatly pleased at the young fellow's audacity, and we quite longed to tell the officers that we could have caught one of their fugitives for them, if we had had a mind. The time had now come when we began to think seriously of leaving our pleasant home, and taking up our residence at Detroit, while making arrangements for a permanent set- tlement at Chicago. The intelligence, when communicated to our Winnebago children, brought forth great lamentations and demonstrations of regret. From the surrounding country they came flocking in, to inquire into the truth of the tidings they had heard, and to petition earn- estly that we would continue to live and die among them. Among them all no one seemed so over- whelmed with affliction as Elizabeth, our poor Cut-nose. When we first told her of our intention, she sat for hours in the same spot, 569 W$t "€arlp ®ap" in tfje J|ortf)=BJe£t wiping away the tears that would find their way down her cheeks, with the corner of the chintz shawl she wore pinned across her bosom. "No! never, never, never shall I find such friends again," she would exclaim. "You will go away, and I shall be left here all alone." Wild-Cat too, the fat, jolly Wild-Cat, gave way to the most audible lamentations. "Oh! my little brother," he said to the baby, on the morning of our departure, when he had insisted on taking him and seating him on his fat, dirty knee, "you will never come back to see your poor brother again!" And having taken an extra glass on the oc- casion, he wept like an infant. It was with sad hearts that on the morn- ing of the ist of July, 1833, we bade adieu to the long cortege which followed us to the boat, now waiting to convey us to Green Bay, where we were to meet Governor Por- ter and Mr. Brush, and proceed, under their escort, to Detroit. When they had completed their tender farewells, they turned to accompany their father across the Portage, on his route to Chicago, and long after, we could see them winding along the road, and hear their loud lamentations at a parting which they fore- saw would be forever. 570 Appendix Sppenbix AS I have given throughout the Narra- /■A tive of the Sauk War, the impres- -*- -*- sions we received from our own observation, or from information furnished us at the time, I think it but justice to Black Hawk and his party to insert, by way of Appendix, the following account, preserved among the manuscript writings of the late Thomas Forsyth, 146 Esq., of St. Louis, who, after residing among the Indians many years as a trader, was, until the year 1830, the Agent of the Sauks and Foxes. The manuscript was written in 1832, while Black Hawk and his compatriots were in prison at Jefferson Barracks. 146 Forsyth was John Kinzie's half-brother, and prior to the War of 1812 his partner in the Indian trade. From 1 8 19 to 1830 he was U. S. Indian agent for the Sauk and Foxes at Rock Island. After his removal by President Jackson he resided at St. Louis, until his death, Oct. 29, 1833. The extracts from his journal which Mrs. Kinzie prints present the views of a well- informed official who had much sympathy for the In- dians, and who wrote, apparently, under a sense of resentment occasioned by his removal from the office he had so long held. — Ed. 573 Sppenbtx "The United States troops under the com- mand of Major Stoddard arrived here,* and took possession of this country in the month of February, 1804. In the spring of that year, a white person (a man or boy), was killed in Cuivre Settlement, by a Sauk In- dian. Some time in the summer following, a party of United States troops were sent up to the Sauk village on Rocky river, and a de- mand made of the Sauk Chiefs for the mur- derer. The Sauk Chiefs did not hesitate a moment, but delivered him up to the com- mander of the troops, who brought him down and delivered him over to the civil authority in this place (St. Louis). "Some time in the ensuing autumn some Sauk and Fox Indians came to this place, and had a conversation with General Harri- son (then Governor of Indiana Territory, and acting Governor of this State, then Ter- ritory of Louisiana), on the subject of liber- ating their relative, then in prison at this place for the above-mentioned murder. "Ouash-quame, a Sauk chief, who was the head man of this party, has repeatedly said, 'Mr. Pierre Chouteau, Sen., came several times to my camp, offering that if I would sell the lands on the east side of the Missis- sippi river, Governor Harrison would liberate *St. Louis, Mo. 574 gppenbtx my relation (meaning the Sauk Indian then in prison as above related), to which I at last agreed, and sold the lands from the mouth of the Illinois river up the Mississippi river as high as the mouth of Rocky river (now Rock river), and east to the ridge that divides the waters of the Mississippi and Illinois rivers, but I never sold any more lands.' Quash-quame also said to Governor Edwards, Governor Clark and Mr. Auguste Chouteau, Commissioners appointed to treat with the Chippewas, Ottowas, and Pottowat- tamies of Illinois river, in the summer of 1816, for lands on the west side of Illinois river: "'You white men may put on paper what you please, but again I tell you, I never sold any lands higher up the Mississippi than the mouth of Rocky river.' "In the treaty first mentioned, the line commences opposite to the mouth of Gas- conade river, and running in a direct line to the headwaters of Jefferson* river, thence down that river to the Mississippi river — thence up the Mississippi river to the mouth of the Ouisconsin river — thence up that river thirty-six miles — thence in a direct line to a * There is no such river in this country, therefore this treaty is null and void — of no effect in law or equity. Such was the opinion of the late Gov. Howard. (T. F.) 575 Sppenbtx little lake in Fox river of Illinois, down Fox river to Illinois river, down Illinois river to its mouth, thence down the Mississippi river to the mouth of Missouri river, thence up that river to the place of beginning. See Treaty dated at St. Louis, 4th November, 1804. "The Sauk and Fox nations were never consulted, nor had any hand in this Treaty, nor knew anything about it. It was made and signed by two Sauk chiefs, one Fox chief and one warrior. "When the annuities were delivered to the Sauk and Fox nation of Indians, according to the treaty above referred to (amounting to $1,000 per annum), the Indians always thought they were presents (as the annuity for the first twenty years was always paid in goods, sent on from Georgetown, District of Columbia (and poor articles of merchandize they were, very often damaged and not suit- able for Indians), until I, as their Agent, convinced them of the contrary, in the sum- mer of 1 81 8. When the Indians heard that the goods delivered to them were annuities for land, sold by them to the United States, they were astonished, and refused to accept of the goods, denying that they ever sold the lands as stated by me, their Agent. The Black Hawk in particular, who was present 576 gppenbtx at the time, made a great noise about this land, and would never receive any part of the annuities from that time forward. He always denied the authority of Quash-quame and others to sell any part of their lands, and told the Indians not to receive any presents or annuities from any American — otherwise their lands would be claimed at some future day. "As the United States do insist, and retain the lands according to the Treaty of Nov. 4, 1 804, why do they not fulfil their part of that Treaty as equity demands? "The Sauk and Fox nations are allowed, according to that Treaty, 'to live and hunt on the lands so ceded, as long as the aforesaid lands belong to the United States.' In the spring of the year 1827, about twelve or fif- teen families of squatters arrived and took possession of the Sauk village, near the mouth of the Rocky river. They immedi- ately commenced destroying the Indians' bark boats. Some were burned, others were torn to pieces, and when the Indians arrived at the village, and found fault with the de- struction of their property, they were beaten and abused by the Squatters. "The Indians made complaint to me, as their Agent I wrote to Gen. Clark,* stating * Superintendent of Indian Affairs at St. Louis. — Ed. 577 Sppenbtx to him from time to time what happened, and giving a minute detail of everything that passed between the whites (Squatters) and the Indians. "The squatters insisted that the Indians should be removed from their village, saying that as soon as the land was brought into market they (the squatters) would buy it all. It became needless for me to show them the treaty, and the right the Indians had to re- main on their lands. They tried every method to annoy the Indians, by shooting their dogs, claiming their horses; complain- ing that the Indians' horses broke into their cornfields — selling them whiskey for the most trifling articles, contrary to the wishes and request of the chiefs, particularly the Black Hawk, who both solicited and threat- ened them on the subject, but all to no pur- pose. "The President directed those lands to be sold at the Land Office, in Springfield, Illi- nois. Accordingly when the time came that they were to be offered for sale (in the Au- tumn of 1828), there were about twenty fam- ilies of squatter at, and in the vicinity of the old Sauk village, most of whom attended the sale, and but one of them could purchase a quarter-section (if we except George Daven- port, a trader who resides in Rocky Island). 578 Sppenirtx Therefore, all the land not sold, still belonged to the United States, and the Indians had still a right, by treaty, to hunt and live on those lands. This right, however, was not allowed them — they must move off. "In 1830, the principal chiefs, and others of the Sauk and Fox Indians who resided at the old village, near Rocky river, acquainted me that they would remove to their village on Ihoway river. These chiefs advised me to write to General Clark, Superintendent of Indian Affairs at this place (St. Louis), to send up a few militia — that the Black Hawk and his followers would then see that every- thing was in earnest, and they would remove to the west side of the Mississippi, to their own lands. "The letter, as requested by the chiefs, was written and sent by me to General Clark, but he did not think proper to answer it — therefore everything remained as formerly, and, as a matter of course, Black Hawk and his party thought the whole matter of remov- ing from the old village had blown over. "In the Spring of 1831, the Black Hawk and his party were augmented by many In- dians from Ihoway river. This augmenta- tion of forces made the Black Hawk very proud, and he supposed nothing would be done about removing him and his party. 579 9ppenbix "General Gaines visited the Black Hawk and his party this season, with a force of reg- ulars and militia, and compelled them to re- move to the west side of the Mississippi river, on their own lands. "When the Black Hawk and party re- crossed to the east side of the Mississippi river in 1832, they numbered three hundred and sixty-eight men. They were hampered with many women and children, and had no intention to make war. When attacked by General Stillman's detachment, they de- fended themselves like men, and I would ask, who would not do so, likewise? Thus the war commenced. * * * "The Indians had been defeated, dis- persed, and some of the principal chiefs are now in prison and in chains, at Jefferson Barracks. * * * " It is very well known, by all who know the Black Hawk, that he has always been con- sidered a friend to the whites. Often has he taken into his lodge the wearied white man, given him good food to eat, and a good blan- ket to sleep on before the fire. Many a good meal has the Prophet given to people travel- ling past his village, and very many stray horses has he recovered from the Indians, and restored to their rightful owners, without asking any recompense whatever. * * * 580 gppenbtx "What right have we to tell any people, * You shall not cross the Mississippi river on any pretext whatever'? When the Sauk and Fox Indians wish to cross the Mississippi, to visit their relations among the Pottawatta- mies, of Fox river, Illinois, they are pre- vented by us, because we have the power!" I omit, in the extracts I have made, the old gentleman's occasional comments upon the powers that dictated, and the forces which carried on the warfare of this unhappy Summer. There is every reason to believe that had his suggestions been listened to, and had he continued the Agent of the Sauks and Foxes, a sad record might have been spared. I mean the untimely fate of the unfortunate M. St. Vrain, who, a comparative stranger to his people, was murdered by them, in their exasperated fury, at Kellogg's Grove, soon after the commencement of the cam- paign. 581 Index Snbex Abbott, James, first Chicago bridegroom, 17. Abbott, Dr. Lucius, husband of Margaret McKillip, 260. Abbott, Samuel, career, 17. Agathe, daughter of Rascal Decorah, as nurse, 546-49; romance of, 550-56. Agency House, at Chicago, described, 211-12; men- tioned, 239; inhabitants fortify, 242; at Fort Win- nebago, described, 389-91; built, 392-94, 412-14, 542; at Mackinac, 16-17. Alcott, Job, husband of Madeline Ogee, 180. Alexander, General Milton K.,in Black Hawk War, 508. Allen, Colonel John, slain, 290. Allouez, Father Claude Jean, founds mission at De Pere, 455. American Fur Company, activities of at Mackinac, 11- 14, 226; at Fort Winnebago, 103, 485; at Green Bay, 500-501; Robert Stuart as agent, 7; Joseph Rolette, 31-32; John H. Kinzie, 67. Amherstburg (Ont.), site of Fort Maiden, 12. Apple River Fort, attack on, 472. Armstrong, Mrs. , entertains Kinzies, 464, 519-20. Arndt, Hamilton, transport service on Fox River, 91, 104-107, 453-54. Arndt, John P., as hotel keeper, 24-26; at evening party, 39-40; brings Durham boat to Wisconsin, 510. Astor, John Jacob, Robert Stuart's service to, 7-8. Atkinson, General Henry, in Black Hawk War, 467, 473, 5°?- 1 Aubrey, William, slain, 472. Bacon, Rev. David, missionary work at Mackinac, 11. 585 Snbex Bad Axe battle, terminates war, 522. Bailey, Jonathan N., occupies Kinzie house, 217; father-in-law of John S. C. Hogan, 218. Bailly, Joseph, marriage of daughter, 17. Baird, Henry S., career, 37. Battle of Lake Eric, heard at Fort Maiden, 292-93. Beall, Mrs. Samuel \\\, anecdote of, 39-40. Beall, Lieutenant Lloyd J., death reported, 470. Beaubien, Jean Baptiste, career, 210; death of son, 303. Beaubien, Mark, career, 214. Beaubien, Mcdard, career, 303; attends ball, 341-45. Beaumont, Dr. William, career, 466. Bees, follow white men, 200. Bellaire, , mail-carrier, 546; beats wife, 549. Bellaire, Madam , as nurse, 546-49. Belletontaine, farm of Pierre Paquette, 93; Kinzie party visits, 463-64. Biddle, Kdward, career, 17. Biddle, Sophia, career, 17. Big Foot (Maunk-suck, Gros-pied), village of, 372-77. Big Foot Lake, see Lake Geneva. Big White Man, see Cornplanter. Bisson, Mrs. , shields Mrs. Helm, 274-75. Black Hawk, threatens whites, 407; captured, 524; repudiates treaty of 1804, 576-79; friendship for whites, 580. See also Sauk Indians and Black Hawk War. Black Hawk War, beginning of, 407-408; events of, 467-83, 508-509; role of Stambaugh's party, 516-17; terminated, 522; fate of fugitives, 517, 524-25; Thomas Forsyth's narrative, 573-81. See also Sauk Indians and Black Hawk. Black Jim, saves Mrs. Heald, 270; ransoms slave of Colonel Allen, 290. Black Partridge, warns Captain Heald, 255; rescues Mrs. Helm, 262-63; protects Kinzie family, 271- 75; rescues Mrs. Lee, 284-86. 586 3fnbex Black Wolf, characterized, 99; mentioned, 476. Blue Mound, described, 154. Boilvin, Nicholas, career, 46; anecdote of, 46-47. Bradley, Captain Hezekiah, builder of Fort Dearborn, 208. Brady, General Hugh, career, 522. Brown, Henry, reprints massacre narrative, lii. Brown, Joseph, founder of Hickory Creek Settlement, Brush, Archange, visits Fort Winnebago, 450. Brush, Charles R., relationships, 450; as escort, 570. Brush, Elijah, early Detroit lawyer, 450. Brunet, saddle horse, 142, 145, 171-72, 201-202, 385, 388. Buffalo Grove, rivalry of stage drivers, 176; St. Vrain slain near, 470. Buffalo Lake (Lac de Boeuf), passage of, 85-86, 520. Burnett, , Indian seeks to kill, 270. Burns, Thomas, family rescued, 239; leader of Chicago militia, 242; slain, 265. Burns, Mrs. Thomas, captivity of, 283. Butte des Morts Lake, mentioned, 71. Cadle, Rev. Richard F., career, 39; mission school of, 411. Caldwell, Billy, career, 215; saves Kinzie family, 275- 77; efforts to avert W 7 innebago War, 297, 374; on hunting expedition, 303-304; as escort, 352, 358. Caldwell, Captain William, career, 215. Cardin, Jean B., slain, 237, 241. Carey mission, identified, 350. Cass, Governor Lewis, offices held, 44; prudence in Indian war, 474; as Secretary of War, 530. Catherine, servant, 527. Chandonnai, Jean Baptiste, relative of Madam Laframboise, 16; rescues Mrs. Heald, 269. Charlie, saddle horse, 454-55, 461-63. Charlotte, Winnebago woman, anecdote of, 399-401. 587 Snbex Chevalier, Catherine, wife of Alexander Robinson, 215. Chicago, in 1831, described, 208-18; origin of name, 219; after War of 1812, 297-302; cession of site in treaty of Greenville, 301-302; first highways, 341. See also Chicago. Chicago Militia, history, 242. Chicago River, mouth changed, 209. Chippewa Indians, French name for, 81; language as intertribal medium, 98, 395. Cholera, panic over, at Green Bay, 503-504; at Rock Island, 526-28; death of Governor George B. Porter, 530. Chouteau, Pierre, agency in Sauk treaty of 1804, 574. Christman, , story of, 60-61, 65, 409. Clamorgan, Jacques, career, 220-21. Clark, Major Nathan, and murderer of Lieutenant Foster, 506-507. Clark, , marries Elizabeth McKenzie, xliii. Clybourn, Jonas, marries Elizabeth Clark, xliv. Clybourn, , home, at Chicago, 216. "Cobweb Castle," see Agency House. Colchester (Ont.), market-town of New Settlement, xxxviii; birthplace of Margaret McKillip, 260. Cold, severity of in 1830-31, 127-28, 136-37, 303; sufferings of relief party, 546-49. Collins, General Oliver, father-in-law of James D. Doty, 29. Cora, greyhound, 146, 162. Corbin, James, Fort Dearborn soldier, narrative of, 283. Corbin, Mrs. Fielding, slain, 267. Cornplanter, captor of Little family, 317, 323-34. Courtes Oreilles, French name for Ottawa tribe, 81. Courville, Florence, attends Sunday School, 410-11. Crely, , anecdote of, 45; brings war news, 472. Crystal Lake, Kinzie party reaches, 364. 588 Snirex Curlews, described, 354. Currie, , hospital steward, relief mission of, 546-49. Cutler, Colonel Enos, career, 542; mentioned, 562. Cut Nose (Elizabeth), story of, 402-406; grief over de- parture of Kinzies, 569-70. Dance, scalp, described, 539-40. Dandy (Young Four Legs), described, 101-102; visits Kinzies, 394-97. Dauphin, of France, Eleazer Williams impersonates, S3- Davenport, George, Rock Island trader, 578. David, officer's servant, anecdotes of, 134-35, 485, Davies, Lieutenant , reports escape of prisoners, Davis, Jefferson, as furniture maker, 91-92; Wisconsin career, 92; brings slave to Wisconsin, 105; praises leadership of Black Hawk, 509. Daykauray, see Decorah. Dead March, as evacuation march, 258. Dean, John, house of, at Chicago, 210. Dearborn wagons, described, 346. De Charme, , trading establishment mentioned, Decorah (Daykauray, etc.), family, history, 402. Decorah, Old, views on education, 132-33; conduct in famine, 565-66; visit of mother, 416-18; of daugh- ter, 564. Decorah, One-eyed, captor of Black Hawk, 524. Decorah, Rascal, father of Agathe, 550. Decorah, Sabrevoir, career, 402. Deerfield (Mass.), massacre, 52. Defiance (Ohio), residence of John Kinzie, xxxv- xxx vi. Delaware Indians, friendship for Americans, 310. De Pere, history, 455. Des Plaines River, passage of, described, 204-205. 589 3fnbex Detroit, terminus of steamboat line, xix; voyage of Henry Clay, xx-xxii, 3-4; residence of Forsyth family, xxxii-xxxiii; of John Kinzie, xxxiv-xxxv; of Little family, xxxvii; refuge of Kinzies during War of 1S12, 279-80, 288-95. Dickinson's, mentioned, 451, 500. Discipline, in army, 168. Dixon, John, career, 177-78. Dixon, Mrs. John, entertains Kinzies, 178-81. Dixon (111.), route via, 141. Dixon's Ferry, described, 176-77. Dodtze, Elizabeth, daughter of General Henry Dodge, Dodge, General Henry, career, 155; in Black Hawk War, 470-71, 508-509, S33- Dogherty, , as traveling companion, 200-204. Dole, George W., early Chicago merchant, 34 1. Doty, James Duane, career, 28-29; as traveling com- panion, 41-S2; attorney for Indians, 531. Doty's Island, identified, 65. Dousman, Michael, career, 17. Doyle, , murderer of Lieutenant Foster, 506-508. Drew family, at Mackinac, 17. Duck Creek, passage of, 143, 145, 387-88. Ducks, mating habits, 448. Duncklee, Hezekiah, settles at Duncklee's Grove, 355. Duncklee's (Dunkley's) Grove, site identified, 3;^. Du Page River, passage of, described, 201, 204. Du Pin, , ransoms Mrs. Lee, 285-86. Durham boat, described, 510. Engle, Lieutenant James, member of Fort Dearborn garrison, 21 -7, 348. Engle, Mrs. James, wife of Lieutenant Engle, 348. Ephraim, servant of Major Twiggs, 126-27. Fallen* Timbers battle, English assist Indians, xxxix. Fan, pet fawn, 405-406. Ferry, Rev. William, missionary labors, II. 59O Jfnbex Ferry, Thomas, career sketched, n. Finley, Dr. Clement A., surgeon at Fort Dearborn, 217; loans saddle horse, 454; brings news of cholera epidemic, 526-28. Fisher, Elizabeth T., wife of Henry S. Baird, 37. Fleming, General Augustus, relationship to John Kinzie, 221. Fleming, Sampson, career sketched, xxxii-xxxiv. Folle Avoine, French name for Menominee Indians, 81. Follett, Burley, bearer of war news, 472. Forbes, Stephen, career, 217. Forbes, Mrs. Stephen, early Chicago teacher, 217. Force, George, slain, 472. Forsyth, George, story of death, 224-25. Forsyth, Jane, wife of Charles R. Brush, 450; member of Kinzie party, 510. Forsyth, Maria, wife of Benjamin B. Kercheval, 538. Forsyth, Robert A., half-brother of John Kinzie, 99; legal dispute of heirs with John Kinzie, 296; daughter marries, 450, 538. Forsyth, Robert Allen II, career, 99. Forsyth, Thomas, as partner of John Kinzie, xl; career, 573; narrative of Black Hawk War, 573-81. Forsyth, William, career, xxxi-xxxiii; marries mother of John Kinzie, 222. Forsyth, William II, birth, xxxii; marries Margaret Little, xxxix-xl. Fort Atkinson, built, 473. Fort Brady, founded, 522. Fort Dearborn, described, 208-209, 235; narrative of massacre, 233-87; victims buried, 296; evacuation of, 339-40> 345-49- Fort Gratiot, cholera at, 503. Fort Holmes, history, 20. Fort Howard, history, 27; Fort Dearborn garrison re- moved to, 339; panic over Black Hawk War, 502- 503; over cholera, 503-504. See also Green Bay. 591 Snbex Fort Maiden, as rendezvous of northwestern Indians, 12-13, 236; Battle of Lake Erie heard, 292-93. Fort Wayne (Ind.), residence of John Kinzie, xxxiv. Fort Winnebago, founded, 30; seen, 87-88; reception of Kinzies, 90-92; lack of servants, 104; fears Indian attack, 472-83. Foster, Lieutenant Amos, member of Fort Dearborn garrison, 217; loans horse, 341, 344; conducts troops to Green Bay, 350, 358, 370-71, 383-84; murdered, 505-506. Four Lakes, Kinzies encamp near, 149-53, 384; Indian council, 470-71. Four Legs, village of, 65-66, 494; anecdote of, and daughter, 67-70; funeral, 94-96. Four Legs, Jr., nephew of Chief Four Legs, see Dandy. Four Legs, Madam, mourns husband, 96-97; as inter- preter, 98; bearer of war news, 509. Fox Indians, legend of Butte des Morts, 80; French name for, 81; husband of Cut Xose, 403-404. Fox River, of Wisconsin, journeys on, 41-89, 451, 484-501, 510-21; of Illinois, Kinzie party crosses, 188-91, 358-62. Friend, Aaron, founder of Hickory Creek settlement, 34i. Frum, Louis {dit Manaigre), mentioned, 392; as car- penter, 393, 412; sends children to school, 409, 411; remains at Fort Winnebago, 475; prepares house for occupancy, 521. Furman, Lieutenant John G., death, 216, 303. Gardiner, Mrs. , hospital matron, 370. Garlic Island, site identified, 70; Kinzie party at, 492- 94; Wild Cat's village, 530-31. Gleason, Luther, establishment of, 84; entertains Kinzie party, 519-20. Glory of the Morning, history, 402. Grand Butte des Morts, legend of, 80; residence of James Knaggs, 45 6_ 57- 592 Snbex Grand Chute, encampment of Kinzie party, 57-58; passage of, 59-60, 494, 510-16. Grand Haven (Mich.), founder of, 11. Gratiot, Henry, as Indian agent, 480. Green Bay, steamboats visit, xx-xxii; hotel of John P. Arndt, 24-26; society, in 1830, 30-40; Fort Dear- born garrison ordered to, 339-40; Kinzies visit, 449-65; as refuge, 484-502; cholera panic, 502-504; murderer of Lieutenant Foster, 505-508. See also Fort Howard. Green Bay flies, described, 505. Green, Emerson, slain, 472. Greyhounds, on trip from Fort Winnebago to Chicago, 146, 162, 187. Gridley, , soldier, story of, 56. Griffin, saddle horse, 471. Griffith, William, role in massacre, 277-79. Grignon, Domitile, wife of James Knaggs, 457. Grignon, Elizabeth, aids Father Mazzuchelli, 398. Grignon, Petaille, servant of John H. Kinzie, 125; on journey to Fort Winnebago, 340, 355-58, 376, 379, 387- Gngnon family, at Green Bay, 3s, 74, 78; at Kakalin, 49-5 , 45 6 - Guardapie, voyageur, on journey to Green Bay, 491, 501. Hall, Benjamin, marries Margaret McKenzie, xliv. Haliburton, Alice, daughter of Rev. William Hali- burton, xxxi; wife of Sampson Fleming, xxxii; of Nicholas Low, xxxiv. Haliburton, Rev. William, ancestor of John Kinzie, xxx-xxxi, 221. Haliburton, Mrs. William, mother of John Kinzie, xxxi; marriages, xxxi-xxxii, 221. Hamilton, Robert J., career, 340. Hamilton, William S., career, 159; entertains Kinzies, 165-70; as traveling companion, 170-73, 457. 593 3nbex Hamilton's Diggings, site identified, K9. Hanks, Captain Porter, surrenders Fort Mackinac, 20. Hardscrabble, site identified, 216. See also Lee's Place. Hardscrabble, novel of Fort Dearborn massacre, 233. HarrTy, Dr. William, marries John Kinzie to Eleanor McKillip, xl, xlvi. Harmar, General Josiah, campaign against north- western tribes, xxxv. Harmon, Dr. Elijah, career, 217; foresees growth of Chicago, 304 Harney, Captain William S., escorts Kinzie party to Fort Winnebaj .: 1 ; career, 30; anecdote of 134-35; ex-soldier threatens, 167-68; report of death, 469. Harrison, General William H., in War of 1812, 290; visits Detroit, 295- 96; negotiates Sauk treaty ol Harry, servant of Kinzies, 351, 356, 360, 409, 493, rigs' Woods, Kinzies reach, 386; lost party found at, Hawley, Pierce, mentioned, 231; home of, 202-203. Hay nt Otto, death, 286-87. Heacock, Russell E., career, 216. Heald, Captain Nathan, commands Fort Dearborn, ; in massacre, 244-56, 264, 2S3-82. Heald, Mrs. Rebekah, role in massacre, 269-71, 280-82. Helm, Lieutenant Linai T., joins Fort Dearborn garrison, 235; marital relations, 259-60; role in massacre, 263, 266, 280-81. Helm, Mrs. Margaret, birth, xxxix-xl; wife of Lieutenant Helm, 235; career, 259-60; role in massacre, 259-87; on journey to Fort Winnebago, 339> 35 2 ~ 6 3> 3%5> 3 88 > 5 2 °; marries Dr. Lucius Abbott, 355; quotes Governor Cass, 474; fears Indians, 480-82; journey to Green Bay, 484-501. Helm, William Edwin, career, 335; journey to Fort Winnebago, 339, 3SS'-> t0 Green Ba X> 49 2 "93> 49 6 "97; member of Kinzie household, 561. 594 Snirex Hempstead, , visits Kinzies, 108. Henry Clay, voyage of to Green Bay, xx-xxii, 1-6, 19-23. Henry, General James D., in Black Hawk War, 477, 508-509. Henshaw, Frances, sister-in-law of Daniel Whitney, 450. Hinckley, Captain , commander of Napoleon, 347. Hickory Creek, ball at, 341-45, 538; history of settle- ment, 341. Hogan, John S. C, career, 218; agent of Oliver New- berry, 451. Holmes, Major Andrew H., slain, 20. Holt, Sergeant Isaac, in massacre, 267. Holt, Mrs. Isaac, heroism in massacre, 267-68. Hooe, Alexander S., career, 84. Hoowaunekah, see Little Elk. Hotshungrah Indians, see Winnebago Indians. Hubbard, Gurdon S., autobiography of, II. Hull, General William, orders evacuation of Fort Dear- born, 243-44; terms of surrender of Detroit, 288. Hunt, George, Chicago trader, 299. Hunter, Lieutenant David, career, 217; ordered to Fort Howard, 339; reenforces Fort Winnebago, 478; at Green Bay, 510; escorts Kinzie party, 510, 512-13; plats Kinzie addition, 556. Illinois and Michigan Canal, Robert Stuart as super- intendent, 7; route for, ceded, 302. Indians, relations with British, 12-13; visit Mackinac, 13-14; French names for tribes, 81; funeral cus- toms, 94-97, 423-26; shrewdness, 11 6-21; hos- pitality to Kinzies, 19-97; cruelty to captives, 288-90; marital customs, 395-96, 551-52; religious ideas, 397-99; give presents, 414-15; dances, 4 19-21, 480-82; magic, 421-22; story-telling, 427-28; leg- ends, 428-48. Irwin, Alexander, Green Bay resident, 453; in Black Hawk War, 517. 595 3fabex Irwin, Major Robert, career, 453. Irwin, Robert, Jr., resident of Green Bay, 453. Jeffrey, Mary, wife of Peter Powell, 488. Jerking, process of preserving meat, 248. Jerry, saddle horse, 142, 146-47, 172, 376, 388, 471. Jesuits, missionary labors, 21. Johnson, Colonel Richard M., Indian school project, Johnson, Colonel , British Indian agent, seeks release of captives, 324, 330-32. Jouett, Charles, career, 296. Kakalin, rapids, passage of, 49-51, 500; Grignon family at, 456. Kaukauna (Wis.), site identified, 50. Kauraykawsawkaw, see White Crow. Keepotah, befriends Kinzie family, 271; protects Healds, 282. Kelda, greyhound, 146, 162. Kellogg, Oliver W., and Kellogg's Grove, 171; enter- tains Kinzies, 172-73; as traveling companion,' 174-208. Kellogg, Mrs. Oliver W., entertains Kinzies, 172-73. Kellogg's Grove, site identified, 171, 174. Kellogg's Trail, opened, 171. Kelso, John, in April massacre, 237. Kent, Rev. Aratus, career, 159; at Fort Winnebago, 5 6 7- Kent, Mrs. Aratus, visits Fort Winnebago, 567. Kercheval, Benjamin B., career, 538; brings annuity money, 541. Kercheval, Gholson, store of, 217; attends ball, 341- 45; owns first Chicago carriage, 346; brings negro boy to Chicago, 351; as escort, 352; relationship to Benjamin B. Kercheval, 538. Kilgour, Corporal , as escort of Kinzies, 58, 65. Kinnikinnick, Indian substitute for tobacco, 66, 102-103. 596 Snbex Kinzie Addition, marketed, xlviii, 556. Kinzie, Mrs. Eleanor, career, xxxvi-xlii; marries John Kinzie, xliv; responsibility for Wau Bun, xxxvi, lix-lx; role in massacre, 258, 268-70, 279-80; estimate of Chicago real estate, 308-309; captivity, 309-34; marries Daniel McKillip, xxxviii, 33$; death of brother, 336-39; journey to Fort Winne- bago, 339, 3S 2 ~S3, 358-6o, 373, 385; illness, 466; describes sufferings of captives, 525. Kinzie, Ellen Marion, marries Dr. Alexander Wolcott, xxx. Kinzie, James, career, xlv. Kinzie (McKenzie), John, family history, xxx-xxxiv; career, xxxiv-xxxvi; xl-xlvii, 221-26; Indian name, 9; house, 210-11; role in massacre, 244-45, 250-52, 257-58, 263, 268-82; Detroit residence, 288; captivity, 290-95; second Chicago residence, 295- . 3 ° 2 ' Kinzie, John H., marriage, xxi, xxx; birth, xxxix; career, xlviii; anecdote of Four Legs' daughter, 67- 70; journey to Chicago, 125, 138-207, 556; to Fort Winnebago, 41-89, 339-88, 453-65, 5 l S~ 21 ^ to Detroit, 392; in Black Hawk War, 467-84, 508-509, 525-28, 533-34; procures supplies for Indians, 53 8_ 39; removal to Chicago, 556, 569-70. See also Mrs. Juliette Augusta Kinzie. Kinzie, Mrs. Juliette Augusta, marriage, xxi, xxx; as au- thor, xxii-xxiii, xlix-liv; ancestry, xxiii-xxvii; career, xlvii-xlviii; journey to Green Bay, 3-23, 449-65, 484- 501; to Fort Winnebago, 41-89, 339, 350-64, 368- 88, 453-65, 510-21; to Chicago, 138-207; reception at Fort Winnebago, 90-103; as housekeeper, 104- 108, 126-29, 413-14; efforts at religious instruction, 121-24, 4-9-1 1 ; dressmaking, 138-40; building of Agency House, 393-94, 4 I2_I 3; narrative of Black Hawk War, 467-537; removal from Fort Winne- bago, 569-70. See also John H. Kinzie. 597 Snbex Kinzie, Maria Indiana, wife of David Hunter, 217. Kinzie, Robert Allen, patents Kinzie homestead, xlviii, 306-309; career, 90; hunting trip, 303-304; attends ball, 341-45; as escort, 352. Kinzie, William, son of John Kinzie, xlvi. Knaggs, James, career, 456-57; entertains Kinzies, 457-60. Karraymaunee (Nawkaw), characterized, 98-99. Lac de Boeuf, see Buffalo Lake. Lacey, Mrs. Edgar M., conduct of servant girl, 527. Laframboise, Claude, Chicago half-breed, 557. Laframboise, Josette, wife of Jean B. Beaubien, 210, 258. Laframboise, Madam Joseph, career, 15-16. La Grosse Americaine, see Mrs. Armstrong. Lake Butte des Morts, establishment of Peter Powell at, 488-90. Lake Erie Steamboat Line, operations of, xix-xx. Lake Geneva (Gros-pied, Maunk-suck, Big Foot), Kinzie party visits, 368, 372-77. Lake Kegonsa, identified, 152. Lake Koshkonong, significance of name, 379; Winne- bago village on, 380-81. Lake Puckaway, Kinzie party passes, 84-85, 518. Lake Winnebago, passage of, 66-71, 491-94, 517-18. Langlade, Charles, descendants, 35. Lapierre, , encountered, 148. L'Arbre Croche, view of, 22. Lashley family, at Mackinac, 17. Laughton, Bernard, trading house of, 204; Kinzie party visits, 205, 353; brother-in-law of Mrs. Stephen Forbes, 217. Laughton, David, trading house of, 204; Kinzie party visits, 205, 353. Lawe, Judge John, host of Kinzies, 74-79. Lawton's, see Laughton. Leclerc, Peresh, spokesman in arranging terms of surrender, 264, 266. 59 8 Snbex Letendre, , brings news of Dr. Wolcott's illness, 125. Lecuyer, Simon, on journey to Fort Winnebago, 340, 355-5^ 379- Le Gris, saddle horse, 142, 145. Lee, , fate of family, 284-86; son slain, 237, 284. Lee's Place, site, 216; April murders at, 233-34, 237-41. See also Hardscrabble. Le Mai, , early Chicago resident, 221. Leonard, William Ellery, drama of Glory of the Morning, 402. Library, for Fort Winnebago, purchased, 42. Little, Eleanor, see Mrs. Eleanor Kinzie. Little (Lytle), John, career, xxxvi-xxxvii; removal from Pittsburgh, 311; captivity of family, 311-34. Little, Margaret, marries William Forsyth II, xxxix- xl, 309; escapes Indians, 320-22. Little, Thomas, story of death, 336-39. little Be/t, captured, 292-93. Little Chute, passage of, 57. Little Elk (Hoowauneekah), characterized, 100-ici; in Black Hawk War, 476-77. Little Priest, friendship for whites, 407-408. Little Turtle, father-in-law of Captain William Wells, 253-54. Locofoco, term explained, 149. Log house, method of building, 393-94. Louisa, as house-maid, 105, 126-29; as Sunday School pupil, 121-23; leaves Fort Winnebago, 409. Low, Nicholas, relationship to John Kinzie, 221. McArthur, General Duncan, reoccupies Detroit, 295. Macomb, , captivity, 294-95. McCoy, Rev. Isaac, founder of Carey's Mission, 350. Mckee, Colonel Alexander, career, 289. McKee, Captain Thomas, British Indian agent, 279; identified, 288-89. McKenzic, Elizabeth, career, xliii-xliv; children, xlv- xlvi. 599 Jfnbex McKenzie, John, father of John Kinzie, xxxi. McKenzie, John II, see John Kinzie. McKenzie, Margaret, marries John Kinzie, xliii-xlvii. McKenzie, Moredock 0., home destroyed, xliii; recovers children, xliv. McKillip, Daniel, marries Eleanor Little, xxxviii; slain, xxxix, 335. McKillip, Mrs. Eleanor, see Mrs. Eleanor Kinzie. McKillip, Margaret, see Mrs. Margaret Helm. Mackinac (Michilimackinac), Kinzies visit, 6-2c; massacre of garrison, 21-22; surrender of, 244. Mackinac boat, described, 42-43. Mackinaw City, site of old Fort Mackinac, 22. Madison (Wis.), founder, 28. Magill, Arthur, visits Fort Winnebago, 467; as escort, 485-501. Magill, Arthur W., father of Juliette Augusta Kinzie, xxvi-xxviii. Magill, Frances, mother of Juliette Augusta Kinzie, xxvi-xxviii. Magill, Julian, member of Kinzie household, 415, 561; on journey to Green Bay, 492-93. Magill, Juliette Augusta, see Mrs. Juliette Augusta Kinzie. Manaigre, see Louis Frum. Maneater, village of, 380-81; visits Fort Winnebago, 478-80. Marie Antoinette, pretended son of, 53. Mariner, schooner, brings news of cholera outbreak, 503-504. Marquette, Father Jacques, sojourn at De Pere, 455. Marsh, Rev. Cutting, missionary, mentioned, 52. Martins, leave Chicago, 349. Mata, , at Fort Winnebago, 475; as escort, 485- 501; meets Kinzies, 519-20; daughter injured, 545-49- Matches, invention of, 149. 600 Snbex Mauzheegawgaw Swamp, route via, 78; passage of, 460-63. Mazzuchelli, Rev. Samuel, career, 398; baptizes Agathe, 555.^ Medicine men, role of, 420-22. Menasha (Wis.), site of Four Legs' village, 65. Menominee Indians, French name for, 14, 81; treaty with, 24; morning hymn, 33-34; village at Milwau- kee, 226; in Black. Hawk War, 488-89, 517; marriage customs, 551. See also Wishtayyun. Miami Indians, role in Chicago massacre, 253, 258-60. Middletown (Conn.), ancestral home of Mrs. Juliette Augusta Kinzie, xxv-xxvii. Militia, discord between, and regulars, 523-24. Miller, Samuel, husband of Elizabeth Kinzie, xlv- xlvi; career, 212-13. Mirandeau, Baptiste, servant of Kinzie family, 557. Mirandeau, Genevieve, servant of Kinzie family, 207, . 557- Mirandeau, Jean Baptiste, family, 348; father of Tomah, 557. Mirandeau, Thomas (Tomah), story of, 556-61. Mitchell family, entertains Kinzies, 15, 18-19. Morrin, Isidore, friend of Louis Frum, 391-92; at Fort Winnebago, 475; mentioned, 569. Morrison, William, establishment, at Blue Mound, Morrison, Mrs. William, entertains Kinzies, 155-58. Mosquitoes, as pest, 84, 504-505, 515-16, 519. Musquakee Indians, see Fox Indians. Nadeau, Monica, wife of Mark Beaubien, 214. Nanabojou, legend of, 364-67. Napoleon, transports garrison to Green Bay, 340, 345-49- Naunon^ee, threatens whites, 237; role in massacre, 286-87. Xawkaw, see Karraymaunee. 6oi Snfcex Neenah (Wis.\ Four Legs' village at, 65. Xeescotneemeg, father-in-law of Billy Caldwell, 215; wounded in massacre, 2-2. Neutral ground, identified, 5 28. Newberry, Oliver, career, 451; mentioned, 502. Newberry, Walter L., career, 451. Newhall, Dr. Horatio, career, 124. New Hartford (N. Y.', marriage of John H. Kinzie, xxi; home of Juliette Augusta Kinzie, xxviii, 158. New Settlement, Loyalist center on Lake Erie, xxxviii. New York Indians, migration to Wisconsin, 24; missionary to, 52; settlement passed, 494-500. Ogee, John, story of, 178-80 Ogee, Joseph, marital relations, 179-80. Ogee, Madeline, marital relations, 179-80. Ogee's Ferry, at Dixon, 111., 141. Old Boilvin, anecdote of, 424-26. Old Smoker, escorts Kinzies to Green Bay, 485, 488-89; treatment of mosquitoes, 504-505; brings war news, 508. Ottawa Indians, friendship for John H. Kinzie, 9-10; French name for, 81. Ouilmette, Antoine, career, 273; role in massacre, Ouilmette, Josette, member of Kinzie household, 35--5 1 , 355> 409, 496-97, 5 20 > 5 61 - Owen, Thomas J. V., career, 339-40. Paquette, Pierre, career, 88; Bellefontaine farm, 93, 463-64; in Black Hawk War, 471, 509; ships cargo of turs, 484-85; visits Waukaunkau, 532; as inter- preter, 535; agency in romance of Agathe, 550- $*• Paquette, Mrs. Pierre, attitude towards Sunday School, 410-11; relates story of Cut Nose, 550. Paquette, Therese, attends Sunday School, 410; sent to Green Bay mission school, 411. Passenger pigeons, extermination of, 490. 602 Snbex Pattinson (Patterson), Richard, partner of John Kinzie, 291. Pawnee Blanc, characterized, 102; anecdote of, 111-14. Peach, , builds fence, 394. Pecatonica River, identified, 170. Peesotum, kills Captain Wells, 263, 267. Pemberton, General John C, at Mackinac, 17. Pemberton, slave of Jefferson Davis, 105. Perry, Commodore Oliver H., and Battle of Lake Erie, *93- Petite Butte des Morts, legend of, 63. Philleo, Dr. Addison, as traveling companion, 454-64. Piano, of Mrs. Kinzie, 42, 561; causes sensation, 103, io 7- Piche, Peter, mentioned, 182; identified, 196; house of, 200. Piche's Grove, Kinzies encamp in, 196-200. Pierce, Captain Benjamin K., marriage, 16. Pierce, President Franklin, marriage of brother, 16. Pillon, , as traveling companion, 146-47; as carpenter, 393, 412; flees Fort Winnebago, 475. Pillon, Mrs. , as house servant, 140. Pipe, significance of term, 55. Pitkin, Martha, ancestor of Juliette Augusta Kinzie, xxiv; family history, xxiv-xxvi. Plante, , as guide, 141-42, 154, 160-61, 182-208; as carpenter, 393, 412-14; flees Fort Winnebago, 475. Plympton, Major Joseph C, at surrender of Winnebago prisoners, 533. Point Sable, Jean Baptiste, career, 220. Pokagon, Simon, statement quoted, 490. Polygamy, among Indians, 395-96. Pope, Nathaniel, mentioned, 253. Porlier, Jacques, career, 76. Portage, Fox-Wisconsin, described, 93. Porter, Governor George B., career, 53c; bearer of Winnebago annuity, 530, 537-41; as escort, 570. 603 Jfnbex Porthier, Genevieve, servant of Kinzie family, 207. Porthier, Mrs. Victoire, career, 348; mentioned, ;;~. Potawatomi Indians, French name for, 81; role in Chicago massacre, 244-45; 2 5°> 257-87; removal from Illinois, 332; village of Big Foot, 372-77. Poule d'Eau, legend of, 364-67. Poux, French name for Potawatomi Indians, 81. Powell, Peter, career, 488; establishment of, 489-90, 518. Presbyterians, mission at Mackinac, io-ii; at Green Bay, 34, 411. Procter, General Henry, inprisons John Kinzie, 290-95. Prophet, The, friendship for whites, 580. Puants, French name for Winnebago Indians, 81. Qlashquame, account of Sauk treaty of 1804, 574-75. Rail, legend of, 364-67. Rainstorms, encountered, 5-6, 22-23, 66, 363, 496-500. Raisin River Massacre, rescue of survivors, 289-90. Rattlesnakes, at Fort Winnebago, 36; alarm travelers, Reaume, Judge Charles, anecdote of, 45. Red Bird, role in Winnebago War, 297; death remem- bered, 529. Red Fox, legend of, 428-37. Regulars, contempt tor militia, 523-24. Reynards, French name for Fox Indians, 81. Reynolds, Governor John, at treaty negotiation, 525. Richardson, Major John, historical novels of, 233. Robineau, , voyageur, in ascent of Grand Chute, 512; seeks medical aid, 545-47; misconduct, 548-49. Robinson, Alexander, career, 21 4-1 5; aids Healds, 282; effort to avert Winnebago War, 297, 374. Rock River, Kinzies cross, 176-77, 381; Grand Detour of, 183. Rolette, Joseph, career, 31; anecdote of, 31-33, 46-47; Kinzies entertain, 108; Indian name, 120. Rolette, Miss , visits Kinzies, 559. 604 3fabex Ronan, Ensign George, joins Fort Dearborn garrison, 235; rescues Burns family, 239; in massacre, 261, 264. Root, General Erastus, negotiates treaty, 26. Roy, Pierre, as traveling companion, 141, 172, 188. Ste. Foye, battle, death of Sabrevoir Decorah, 402. St. Ignace, site of Marquette's mission, 21. St. Joseph, John Kinzie at, xxxvi, xl; survivors of massacre at, 279-82. St. Martin, Alexis, studies of stomach, 466. St. Vrain, Felix, slain, 172, 470. Sailing vessels, uncertainty of schedules, 3-4. Salt, supply of, at Fort Dearborn, 248. Salteurs, French name for Chippewa tribe, 81. Sauk Indians, union with Foxes, 80; cede lands, 526; treaty of 1804, 574-77. See also Black Hawk and Black Hawk War. Sauk Trail, route from Mississippi to Canada, 181-86. Sault Ste. Marie, Fort Brady built, 522. Scalps, dance described, 539-40; alarm over burial, 540-4I- Schools, at Mackinac, 16; at Green Bay, 34-35; at Chicago, 99, 217. Scott, Dred, case mentioned, 105. Scott, Captain Martin, mentioned, 305; superintends execution, 507-508. Scott, Stephen J., career, 202. Scott, Willard, son-in-law of Pierce Hawley, 202. Scott, General Winfield, dictates treaties terminating Black Hawk War, 525-26. See, Leah, wife of James Kinzie, xlv, 306. See, William, as preacher, 218, 306-307. Seneca Indians, raid home of John Little, 315. Sevigne, Madame de, relatives at Green Bay, 35. Shabbona (Shaubena), career, 297; in Winnebago W T ar, Shantytown, Kinzies visit, 25, 29, 500-501. 605 3nbex Shaw, , anecdote of, 231-32. Shawneeaukee, see John Kinzie and John H. Kinzie. Sheaffe, General Roger H., kindness to prisoners, 281. Sheesheebanze, legend of, 438-48. Slaves, at army posts, 105. Sophy, daughter of Mata, injured, 545-49. Souris, saddle horse, 142, 153. Specie's Grove, origin of name, 196. Stambaugh, Samuel C, Indian agent at Green Bay, 453, 456; in Black Hawk War, 517. Steamboats, operations of Lake Erie Steamboat Line, xix-xx; voyage of Henry Clay y 3-23. Stillman's Run, battle, 523. Stockbridge Indians, see New York Indians. Street, Joseph M., career, 109; custodian of Black Hawk, 524. Stuart, Robert, entertains Kinzies, 6-8; career, 7. Stuart, Mrs. Robert, entertains Kinzies, 6-8. Sugar Creek, blacksmith establishment at, 148, 475, 545-49- Sunday school, at Fort Winnebago, 409-11. Swamps, passage of, 1 46-48, 381-83, 387, 460-63. Talk. English, anecdote of, 99-100. Thames River, death of Thomas Little, 336-39. Thunder Bay, storms on, 3, 5. Thwaites, Dr. Reuben G., edits IVau-Bun, xxviii, lii. Tippecanoe battle, mentioned, 236. Topeeneebee, aids Kinzie family, 257-58, 279; protects Healds, 282. Treaties, of Prairie du Chien in 1830, xxi; with New York Indians, 24; of Paris, 330; of Rock Island, 525-31; Sauk treaty of 1804, 574-79. Tremont House, history, 213. Trench River, see Thames River. Turcotte, , at Fort Winnebago, 475; attends Mata's daughter, 545-47. Turtle Creek, Winnebago village at, 377. 606 3nbex Twiggs, Major David E., career, 41-42; hospitality to Kinzies, 9C-92, 389; attempt to assassinate, 167-68; leaves Fort Winnebago, 408. Twiggs, Mrs. David E., lacks female associates, 41-42 hospitality to Kinzies, 90-92, 104; birth of daughter 137- Twiggs, Lizzie, born, 137. Van Cleve, Lieutenant Horatio P., Kinzies entertain Van Voorhis, Dr. Isaac, joins Fort Dearborn garrison 235; death, 261-62. Virgin Mary, voyageurs supplicate, 491-92, 497. Vi telle, , voyageur, on journey to Green Bay 497-98. Voyageurs, as employees, 37, 55; songs, 47-49, 87 described, 226-32; on trip to Green Bay, 486-501. Wallace, , Chicago trader, 299. Warrior^ role in Bad Axe battle, 522. Washington Woman, see Madam Yellow Thunder. Watson, Lieutenant , messenger of General Procter, 291. Waubanakee Indians, see New York Indians. Waubansee, protects Captain Wells, 267; protects Kinzie family, 271. Waubeeneemah, wife aids Mrs. Helm, 263, 265. Wau-Eun^ origin of narrative, xxxvi, 1-li; character- ized, lii-liv. Waukaunkau (Little Snake), W 7 innebago hostage, 529-32. Waunongee, novel of Chicago massacre, 233. Wayne, General Anthony, procures site of Chicago from Indians, 301-302. Weeks, , employee at Laughton's establishment, 205. Wells, Captain William, career, 253; in Chicago massacre, 253-54, 259, 266-67. Wells Street, significance of name, 253. 607 Knbex Wentworth, Elijah, early Chicago innkeeper, 206, 21 4. Whisky, sold to Indians, 94, 112-14; in mince-pie, 134-35; destroyed, 252; Indian woman refuses, 400-401; at funerals, 424-26. Whistler, Captain John, marriage of daughter, 17. Whistler, Gwinthlean, wife ot Robert A. Kinzie, 90. Whistler, Sarah, wife of James Abbott, 17. White, Liberty, career, 237; slain, 237, 241. White Crow (Kauraykawsawkaw), characterized, 101; delivers prisoners, 534-35; friendship for whites, " 408, 53 c White Ox, murders trader, 16. Whitney, Daniel, career, 450. Wild Cat, village of, 70-71; at Fort Winnebago, 101; lament over land cession, 530-31; joy over end of famine, 566; grief over departure of Kinzies, 570. Wild rice, article of Indian diet, 71-72, 75, 87. Williams, Rev. Rleazer, career, 52-53; appearance, 54. Williams, Eunice, Deerfield massacre captive, 52. Wing, Austin E., career, 454; as traveling companion, t 454, 45 6 > 4> ( r 6 4- Winnebago Indians, Kinzies encounter, 74, 82; French name for, 8 1 ; chiefs described, 98-102; annuity pay- ment, 109-12; village at First Lake, 152; at Beloit, 377-78; at Lake Koshkonong, 380-81; commit murders, 241; role in Black Hawk War, 407-408, 468-71; cede lands, 525-28; surrender hostages, 529-36; escape of, 543-45; famine among, 537-42, 562-67; marital practices, 552-53. Winnebago War, efforts to avert, 297, 374; described, 29-; advice of Governor Cass, 4-4. Winnemeg, brings evacuation order to Chicago, 243; advice concerning evacuation, 244-45; protects Captain Wells, 267. Winnosheek, role in Black Hawk War, 471. Wisconsin Heights battle, characterized, 509; fugitives massacred, 517. 608 Sttbex Wishtayyun, Indian guide, 37, 51-52, 54, 56, 454~5 6 - Wolcott, Alexander, ancestor of Juliette Augusta Kinzie, xxiv-xxv. Wolcott, Alexander II, grandfather of Juliette Augusta Kinzie, xxv-xxvi. Wolcott, Dr. Alexander, career, xxix-xxx; letters from West, 4; as Indian agent, 296; death, 125, 303. Wolcott, Henry, ancestor of Juliette Augusta Kinzie, xxiii. Wolcott, Roger, ancestor of Juliette Augusta Kinzie, xxiv. Wolcott, Simon, marries Martha Pitkin, xxiv. Wolcott Street, former name of North State Street, 211. Wolf Point, origin of name, 206. Woodticks, as pest, 493-94. Yellow Thunder, Madam, anecdote of, 114-17; joy over end of famine, 566. 609