But while furs were the principal article offered in payment for goods

obtained from the traders, the Indians also brought in quantities of

maple sugar put up in birch-bark packages, which usually found ready

sale among the settlers. These packages were called "barks" by some

and "mococks" by others, each of them containing from twenty-five to

fifty pounds. Birkbeck says, in his _Letters from Illinois_, written in

1818, that maple sugar could be purchased from the Indians for about

twenty-five cents a pound, which was about the same price as the coarse

brown or "muscovado" sugar from Louisiana was sold for. In his book of

reminiscences of early Chicago, Gale tells us that he remembers as a boy

how he prized the granulated maple sugar which he bought from the squaws,

"put up in small birch-bark boxes, ornamented with colored grasses, and

in large baskets made of the same material, holding some twenty-five

pounds." It was often called "Indian sugar." When the Indians visited the

settlements it was their custom to wander about the streets in an aimless

manner, stopping from time to time and taking a look into the window

of any house they happened to be passing. The Indians, whether men,

women, or children, would cover the tops of their heads with blankets to

exclude the light, and press their faces against the window panes and

gaze intently into the houses for long periods at a time, to the great

discomfort and even terror of the people within. If they wished to enter

a house they did not pause to knock, but stalked in and squatted on the

floor, and none dared to resist them or to order them to depart from

the premises. "You always heard a man come in," says Mrs. Baird, in her

narrative, "as his step was firm, proud, and full of dignity. The women,

however, made no sound."

There were several chiefs of the Potawatami tribe whose names are

well known in the historic annals of that time. One of them was Black

Partridge, often called "the Partridge"; there were also Winnemeg, or, as

he was sometimes called, Winamac; Waubansee; Topenebe; Billy Caldwell,

otherwise known as Sauganash or "the Sauganash," meaning Englishman, as

he was an educated half-breed; and Alexander Robinson.

On account of the close and friendly relations existing between the

whites and the Potawatamis, the latter were usually spoken of as "our

Indians," to distinguish them from those tribes whose hunting grounds

were at a greater distance. The Winnebagoes from the north were

occasional visitors to the neighborhood, as were also tribes from the

south,--Miamis and others,--who were generally referred to as "Wabash

Indians."

When councils were held between the representatives of the Government and

the tribes, to agree on a treaty, all those tribes were in attendance

which could be allowed to have any claims to ownership of lands that

were the subject of the treaties about to be made. At such assemblages,

whenever they were held in the Western country, the Potawatamis were

always found fully represented by their chiefs and a large number of

their followers, insisting upon recognition of their claims; and they

thus succeeded in getting the lion's share in the distributions made

by the Government; and even though their claims were often vague and

ill-defined they were always noisy and forward in asserting them. It thus

happened that the Indians of the Potawatami tribe were greatly interested

in keeping on good terms with the whites.

The Indians in their harangues described an assemblage held for purposes

of deliberation as a place where a council fire was lighted; and in

referring to the United States Government the Indian orators spoke of

the States of the Union--which in 1811 were seventeen in number--as the

nation of "the Seventeen Fires," that is, seventeen council fires.

In a former generation the Potawatamis were "French Indians" in their

sympathies and trade relations; and this allegiance continued up to and

even after the close of the French régime in 1763. They were reluctant

to acknowledge the sway of the British during the period of their

possession, but through the commanding influence of the New York Indians

(the Iroquois or Six Nations) they kept the peace that was guaranteed

by the Treaty of Fort Stanwix in 1768. This treaty was made between

the English and the Iroquois with "their dependent tribes"; and it

was understood that the said treaty bound the Western Indians, though

afterwards the latter resented the proceedings. Narrowing the view to

the Potawatami tribe, it appears that even while maintaining friendly

relations with the Americans after the latter had succeeded to the

sovereignty of the Western territories, the tribe was still to a certain

extent under British influence. They shared in the gratuities annually

distributed by the English at Maiden, Canada; and, as the event will

show, they at length became the enemies of the Americans after the War of

1812 had begun.

There was a tract of land under cultivation some four miles southwest of

the fort, situated on the west bank of the South Branch of the Chicago

River, about where at the present time the old Illinois and Michigan

Canal opens into that stream. This tract was owned by a man named Charles

Lee, and the farm was known as "Lee's place."

On this tract stood a log cabin in which a number of men employed by Lee

lived and carried on the work of the farm. Lee himself lived with his

family in a house near the fort on the bank of the river opposite where

it discharged into the lake; which was near the present intersection of

Madison Street and Michigan Avenue. It will be remembered that in those

days a long sand-bar prevented the river from finding an outlet directly

in line with its course, and the current was forced to creep along close

to the shore for some distance toward the south.

Lee's place was also known as "Hardscrabble," a name which continued to

be applied to that neighborhood for many decades thereafter. "The name

of 'Hardscrabble,'" it is said in a recent history of Chicago, "has

always been a favorite one among pioneers to describe a place in which

conditions of existence were hard and difficult. A place of that name

was situated near Lewiston, New York, on the Niagara River, about the

same period, and is mentioned in military despatches during the ensuing

War of 1812; and in the State of Illinois the town of Streator was thus

colloquially known during its earlier history." Before the Civil War,

General Grant lived on a farm near St. Louis, where he built a log cabin

with his own hands and called it "Hardscrabble." The same name was given

to a work of fiction by Major John Richardson, with the subtitle "A Tale

of Indian Warfare." This work takes the events which occurred at Lee's

place and bases upon them a romance the details of which the author

supplied largely from his imagination. Many other examples of the use of

this name might be given.

[Illustration: HARDSCRABBLE.

_There was a farmhouse standing on the west bank of the South Branch of

the Chicago river some four miles from the mouth of the river, built some

time after Fort Dearborn had been established This house and the farm

adjoining it was owned by a man named Charles Lee, who, however, did not

live on the premises, but occupied a house near the fort. The house and

farm were known as Lee's Place, or Hardscrabble._

_It was here that two men in the employ of Lee were killed by Indians in

the April preceding the evacuation and destruction of Fort Dearborn and

the massacre of the troops._]

On the seventh of April of the fateful year 1812 the log house at

Hardscrabble was occupied by three men and a boy. The man who seems to

have been in charge of the work at the farm was one Liberty White, and

with him were a discharged soldier, also a Frenchman named Debou, and the

boy, a son of Mr. Lee's. Communication between the farm and the fort was

usually maintained by means of canoes. The products of the farm found

a ready market at the fort, thus supplementing the supplies for the

garrison coming in the regular way by lake schooners.

On the afternoon of the day mentioned a party of soldiers from the fort,

consisting of a corporal and six men, had obtained leave to go up the

river to catch a supply of fish, with which the stream at that time

abounded. The party went up the South Branch, passing Lee's place, with

the usual exchange of greetings, and at length reached a point some

two miles beyond, where they remained engaged in fishing until nearly

dark. Suddenly they were startled by hearing the dull boom of a cannon

which they knew at once to be a danger signal from the fort, and as they

surmised was caused by some manifestation of Indian hostility.

Hastily starting on their return, they soon came to Lee's place, which,

they observed, was silent and deserted. It was now quite dark, and the

party drew up to the bank, meantime calling and shouting, but receiving

no answer. The mysterious silence which enveloped the place seemed to

indicate that the occupants whom they had seen there a few hours before

had suddenly become alarmed and had perhaps fled toward the fort, if

indeed something worse had not befallen them. The corporal knew that

the commandant would require a full report of the matter, and he at

once began an investigation. Stepping ashore, the corporal and his

men cautiously advanced toward the house, in which there was not a

glimmer of light, and from which issued no sound of human voice. As they

groped their way along they stumbled upon the body of a man lying on

the ground, and by the sense of touch the corporal quickly ascertained

that the head was without a scalp and the body mutilated. "The faithful

dog of the murdered man," says the account from which the narrative is

derived, "stood guarding the lifeless remains of his master." The party

now reëmbarked and proceeded on their way to the fort without further

adventure, where they arrived about eleven o'clock at night and made a

report to the commandant of what they had seen.

We now return to the log house at Hardscrabble and to the dreadful

occurrences which took place there on that eventful afternoon. After the

fishing party had passed up the river beyond the farmhouse a wandering

band of Indians appeared at the door of the cabin, and according to

the custom of savages they entered and seated themselves on the floor

without ceremony. Their deportment was sullen and unfriendly, and this

circumstance aroused the suspicions of the men in the cabin. One of

them, the Frenchman Debou, remarked to Liberty White: "I do not like the

appearance of the Indians; they are none of our folks. I know by their

dress and paint that they are not Potawatamis." Another one of the white

men, the discharged soldier, then said to the boy Lee: "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 then far advanced, the discharged soldier passed out

of the house and walked in a deliberate manner down the path toward the

canoes tied up at the river bank, accompanied by the boy Lee. Some of the

Indians inquired where they were going. The soldier pointed to the cattle

standing among the haystacks on the opposite side of the river and made

signs that they must go over and fodder them and that they would then

come back and get supper for them all.

The boy got into one of the canoes while the man took possession of the

other. The stream was narrow and they quickly passed over to the eastern

side. Here they pulled some hay from the stacks for the cattle, and made

a show of collecting them together, and when they had gradually made a

circuit so that their movements were concealed by the haystacks they made

a run for the woods which were near at hand and directed their course

toward the fort as fast as their legs could carry them.

When they had covered a distance of a quarter of a mile in their flight

they heard the sound of two gunshots, which they readily conjectured

were fired by the strange Indians upon the two men, Liberty White and

the Frenchman Debou. The man and boy did not slacken their speed until

they had reached the river somewhere near the present location of State

Street bridge. Here they paused long enough to call out to John Burns,

then living in a cabin on the north bank of the river near that point,

to hasten to the fort with his family, as the Indians were killing and

scalping up the river at Lee's place.

Mrs. John Kinzie was at the Burns house at that moment to render what aid

she could to Mrs. Burns, who but a few hours before had been delivered

of a child. She instantly left the house and ran to her own home, a

quarter of a mile distant, to give the alarm and procure help for the

sick woman. She found the family awaiting her return, the table spread

for supper, while Mr. Kinzie was playing on his violin and the children

dancing before the fire.

Rushing into the house, quite out of breath and pale with terror, she was

only able to exclaim: "The Indians! the Indians!"

"The Indians? What? Where?" they all demanded at once. Recovering herself

for a moment, she replied: "Up at Lee's place, killing and scalping!"

She then proceeded to relate that while she was at Burns's house a man

and boy were seen running with all speed along the opposite bank of the

river; that they had called across the river, warning the Burns family

to save themselves, for the Indians were at Lee's place, killing and

scalping, and that they themselves had barely been able to make their

escape. The man and boy had then continued on their way as fast as they

could toward the fort, where they reported the terrifying news to the

officers of the garrison.

"All was now consternation and dismay," says the author of _Wau-Bun_,

from which these particulars are gathered. The Kinzie family hurried to

the river side and, by means of two old pirogues, or dugouts, that were

kept moored near the house, made all possible haste across the river and

took refuge in the fort.

We can but faintly realize what a consuming terror seized upon the

pioneers when the cry was heard that hostile Indians were coming. Often

the alarm and the attack were simultaneous, for however quick and

resourceful the whites might be, the savages were superior to them in one

respect at least: their stealthy advance and cat-like spring upon their

foes usually gave them the advantage at the beginning, which was followed

by brutal ferocity and unsparing cruelty in the treatment of their

victims.

It was no wonder that Mrs. Kinzie was terrified at the mention of the

approach of hostile Indians. In her childhood, as previously related,

she had been stolen by a tribe of Seneca Indians in New York State and

had lived among them for four years. She knew Indian ways in peace and

warfare, and she knew that now at any moment the war-whoop might be heard

and the savages be upon them. Not until she had crossed the threshold of

the fort gates with her family about her could she feel a sensation of

even temporary security.

After the fugitives from Lee's place had reached the fort and related

their adventures the order was given to fire the alarm gun for the

purpose of giving notice to any who were at a distance from the fort, and

especially to the boat party, who were far up the South Branch of the

river, that danger was impending.

Energetic measures were at once taken to secure the safety of the

helpless Mrs. Burns and her infant. It was the gallant young Ensign Ronan

who volunteered for this duty and, with five or six others who joined

him, navigated an old scow up the river to the Burns house, took the

mother and her infant child, together with the mattress upon which they

lay, placed them on the scow, and soon had them within the walls of the

fort, where they were tenderly cared for, and where all gathered felt

perfectly safe.

The anxiety felt by all regarding the safety of the still absent boat

party was at length relieved by its appearance at a late hour. Their tale

was soon told, confirming and amplifying the alarming details related by

the fugitives who had so narrowly escaped with their own lives.

On the morning following the events just narrated a party of volunteers

made up of soldiers and civilians went up the river to Lee's place.

There they found the bodies of Liberty White and the Frenchman Debou

pierced with many wounds, the former having received the two shots heard

by the fugitives, and the latter bearing the marks of numerous knife

thrusts. The scalps of the murdered men had been taken by the Indians.

The scalping process, which was practised by all the tribes of American

Indians, has always added an element of horror to the outrages committed

by them. The bodies of the murdered men were brought to the fort and

buried in its immediate vicinity.

The few inhabitants of the place living outside the fort, consisting

of discharged soldiers and half-breeds, now took measures to defend

themselves against a possible attack from the Indians, which they fully

expected to follow. They planked up the long piazzas of the Agency

House, which stood a short distance west of the fort on the bank of the

river, and cut loopholes through the planks for use of musketry. Greater

watchfulness was exercised by the garrison, and every preparation was

made to resist attack.

It was afterward learned through traders out in the Indian country that

the perpetrators of this bloody deed were a band of Winnebago Indians

who came into this neighborhood to "take some white scalps." Their plan

had been to massacre all the men at the farm and then proceed down the

river and kill every white man who could be found outside the walls of

the fort. This plan they had partially carried out as we have seen, but

hearing the sound of the cannon fired at the fort, which they knew would

alarm all the whites of the neighborhood, and having no further hope of

coming upon them by surprise, they thought it best to remain satisfied

with what they had already accomplished, and hastily returned to their

villages on Rock River.

The tragedy at Lee's place was no doubt the result of the hostility

awakened among the Indians of the western country by the malign influence

of Tecumseh communicated through the various tribes of the Wabash

Indians, among whom he was regarded as the champion of Indian rights.

The battle of Tippecanoe, which had apparently crushed his power, was

fought in the previous September; but he had renewed his activity from

the safe shelter of the British dominions in Canada, where he had taken

refuge, and as it was plain to all observers at this time that war

between England and the United States was inevitable, the friendship of

that chief was regarded as desirable by the former. Indeed, he and his

tribesmen became an integral part of the British forces.

But as the days and weeks passed by, and the friendly Indians of the

neighborhood explained that the attacking party at Lee's place were

Winnebagoes, with whose hostility they had no sympathy, the tension of

feeling was gradually relieved and more dependence came to be placed

on the peaceable disposition of the Potawatamis. The vigilance of the

garrison was relaxed, as it seemed to all that no further outbreak was

likely to occur. The whites became convinced at length that no connection

existed between the Winnebagoes concerned in the attack at Lee's place

and the other tribes in the vicinity, and that no concert of action was

apparent between the different tribes. Thus the memory of the bloody

deed was permitted to slumber, and no serious attempt was made to bring

the perpetrators to account. In fact, the feeling of unrest among the

savages in general throughout the country was such that it seemed the

part of wisdom to postpone any schemes of reprisal or punishment that the

whites might have entertained until the times were more propitious. The

excitement and fear which such an outrage usually inspired among the

people of the frontiers wore off by degrees, and the ordinary activities

of life were resumed.

Thus for a year or more there had been intermittent alarms of Indian

attacks and outrages before the final catastrophe. Besides the murders

committed in this region and in other parts of the western country,

the horses and cattle of settlers had been stolen. On one occasion,

when marauders failed to find horses in the stable near the fort, they

wantonly killed a number of sheep found on the premises.

A significant incident occurred within the walls of the fort a few months

preceding its destruction. It is related that two Indians from a northern

tribe had been admitted to the fort as visitors. They noticed Mrs. Heald

and Mrs. Helm playing at battledore on the parade ground opposite the

officers' quarters. One of the Indians turned to the interpreter and

said: "The white chiefs' wives are amusing themselves very much; it will

not be long before they are hoeing in our cornfields!"

Not much importance was attached to the remark at the time but it was

afterward bitterly remembered.

The following is a brief summary of the important national events which

occurred during the years from 1803 to 18 12, concurrent with and of

especial interest to this narrative.

The Louisiana Purchase, consummated on April 30, 1803, added a vast

extent of territory to the American possessions beyond the Mississippi,

and greatly increased the responsibilities of the general Government. The

public men of that day but faintly realized the consequences that would

follow the immense addition to the territories of the United States thus

brought about, though with characteristic energy and good sense they set

about the task of developing the new domain.

"The winning of Louisiana," says Roosevelt, in his _Winning of the West_,

"followed inevitably upon the great westward thrust of the settlerfolk, a

thrust which was delivered blindly, but which no rival race could parry,

until it was stopped by the ocean itself."

The entire area of what is now the State of Illinois was, in 1803, a

part of Indiana Territory, which had been organized three years before,

with William Henry Harrison, then a young man of twenty-seven, as first

Governor. It was not until February, 1809, that Illinois Territory was

organized, with Ninian Edwards as the first Governor. No civil government

was in existence at Chicago; the first authority, as at all frontier

posts, was military. The only people here during the period of which we

are writing, besides the few traders we have mentioned and their helpers,

were the officers and soldiers of Fort Dearborn, and they were of course

under military authority and discipline. All orders came to the captain

commanding at the fort through the commandant at Detroit, Colonel Jacob

Kingsbury, until the breaking out of the war with England, when General

William Hull, previously the Governor of Michigan Territory, was placed

in command of the Northwestern army then assembling at Detroit. Orders

thenceforth issued from the commanding general.

The southern portion of the territory now within the bounds of the State

of Illinois had been settled in some few localities during the French

period of domination, and the population of the towns of Kaskaskia,

Prairie du Rocher and Cahokia were predominantly French, being composed

of a few native born French, but mostly of French Canadians and Creoles.

Even under British domination (1763 to 1783) there were practically no

English-speaking people among the inhabitants of the places mentioned

except the garrisons in the forts at those points; and after the

conquering march of Colonel George Rogers Clark and his Virginians in

1778 and 1779 the English authority ceased altogether, the forces forming

the garrisons having become prisoners in the hands of the Americans.

The result of the stream of emigration that set in from Kentucky and

the States farther east, after the creation of the Northwest Territory

in 1787, was that in a few years the Americans outnumbered the earlier

inhabitants.

At the time Fort Dearborn was built almost the entire State of Illinois,

as at present constituted, was included in a county called St. Clair

County. It was not until long after Illinois had become a State in the

Union that county government began to be effective in any way in the

affairs of the little community at Chicago; and indeed, it did not matter

in the least to the inhabitants what the name of the county might be in

which the place was situated. It is quite likely that no one there even

knew that he was living within the limits of St. Clair County, which in

any case was merely a geographical expression carrying no exercise of

jurisdiction whatever.

Thomas Jefferson was President of the United States from 1801 to 1809; in

the latter year he was succeeded by James Madison, who was President for

the ensuing eight years.

III

THE TRAGEDY

The Story of Old Fort Dearborn · 第 3 / 7 段