being given into the custody of an Indian from the Kankakee, who, it
seems, had known him previously, and who had formed an attachment for
him. The Indian at once made plans for his escape, and soon Captain
Heald was placed in a canoe and taken to St. Joseph. Here he was joined
by Mrs. Heald, and they both pursued their journey up the east coast of
Lake Michigan to Mackinac, where Captain Heald delivered himself up as a
prisoner of war to the British commandant, by whom he was well treated
and released on parole. Later in the season he found means to reach
Louisville, where Mrs. Heald's father, Colonel Samuel Wells, resided.
It had been supposed that both Heald and his wife had perished in the
massacre, and their appearance was as if they had awakened from the dead.
In due course of time Heald was exchanged, and again entered the service
with the rank of Major. He never got rid of the effects of his wound,
and in 1817 he resigned his commission in the army and removed with his
family to a small town in Missouri, where he died a few years later.
Lieutenant Helm, who was among the wounded at the time of the surrender,
had the good fortune to fall into the hands of some friendly Indians,
and was taken to Peoria. He was liberated through the intervention of
Thomas Forsyth, the half-brother of Mr. Kinzie, who was the Indian agent
at that place. Forsyth had great influence with the Potawatamis. "He had
been raised with this nation," says Reynolds, "spoke their language well,
and was well acquainted with their character." He advanced the amount
demanded by the Indians for Helm's ransom, and had him sent to St. Louis
in safety. In this important and dangerous service Forsyth risked his
life every moment he was engaged in it, for the Indians at that time were
in a highly inflamed condition.
Eventually Lieutenant Helm rejoined his wife at Detroit.
[Illustration: FRANQUELIN'S MAP OF 1684
_This section of Franquelin's large map finished in 1684 shows the
Illinois country and the Illinois river throughout its entire length,
with the location of Fort St. Louis, the colony established by La Salle
in 1682. This fort was built on that bold eminence on the southern bank
of the Illinois river, nearly opposite the present town of Utica, known
in later years as Starved Rock._
_The original map made by Franquelin was six feet in length by four and
a half in width. Parkman said of it that it was "the most remarkable of
all the early maps of the interior of North America." Franquelin was a
young engineer in the service of the French King residing in Quebec. The
information necessary for the drawing of the map was undoubtedly supplied
the young engineer by La Salle himself, who had just returned from the
Illinois country._
_It will be observed that the name Chekagou is applied to the river,
which is shown as if it were an affluent of the Illinois. The proper
location of Chicago on the lake is represented by a strange word
Cheagoumeinan, which appears nowhere else on other maps or in the early
records._
_The word Chcagou was known even before the site of Chicago was
discovered by Joliet and Marquette in 1673. In a report quoted by
Charlevoix, written in 1671, certain localities are mentioned, among
others "Chicagou at the lower end of Lake Michigan." This is the first
mention of the name in history. (See Shea's "Charlevoix," Vol. III, Page
166.)_]
[Illustration: MAP OF CHICAGO IN 1812.
_On this map is shown the location of Fort Dearborn and the Agency
house in the year 1812, the locations of the houses used as dwellings
comprising the house of Charles Lee, opposite the mouth of the river, the
Kinzie house, the Ouilmette house and the Burns house on the north side
of the river; the Indian encampment along the creek which flowed into
the river from the south (about where State street now runs), and Lee's
Place, or Hardscrabble, on the South Branch._
_A dotted line shows the route taken by the troops and wagon trains
along the lake shore to the south on the morning of August 15th, also
the situation of the sand hills which began to rise about a mile from
the fort. The attack upon the column began from the shelter of the sand
hills, and the succeeding battle and massacre extended over a further
space towards the south._]
The final scene in the story of old Fort Dearborn was the departure of
the Kinzie family and their retinue of servants on the third day after
the battle and massacre. The fort and the agency house had been destroyed
by fire on the second day, and there were now remaining only the Kinzie
house, the Ouilmette cabin near it, the house lately occupied by John
Burns and his wife and child on the north bank of the main river, and
that lately occupied by Charles Lee and his family near the mouth of the
river.
On the eighteenth the family of Mr. Kinzie, together with the servants
and clerks in his trading establishment, were placed on board of a boat
of sufficient capacity to accommodate them all, and they thus took their
departure from the scene of so many calamities. There were left in the
vicinity only Ouilmette and his family, who were the sole inhabitants of
Chicago until the arrival, some time later, of a French trader named Du
Pin, who took possession of the unoccupied Kinzie house and lived in it.
The length of his stay is not recorded.
The Indians now began to realize the folly of breaking up a station which
to them was an abundant source of supplies, where they could come and
obtain ammunition, provisions and clothing in exchange for their furs.
They would henceforth be obliged to depend upon the small resources of
the St. Joseph trading post or travel to Detroit.
All this had been foreseen by the older and wiser men among them, but
the hot-blooded young men of the tribes were intent on plunder and the
ghastly trophies represented by the scalps of their victims, and they
could not be restrained. There was now little inducement to visit the
post at Chicago; consequently the great numbers that formerly assembled
in the neighborhood scattered to remote places and eked out a precarious
existence by fishing and hunting.
The Indians also found that the friendship of the British was a poor
dependence as compared with that of the Americans, who were the only
governmental authority with whom they could make treaties, and through
whom they could obtain recognition and satisfaction for their claims of
territorial ownership.
The following episode has been relegated to this late portion of the
narrative, as belonging more to the echoes of the battle on the lake
shore than to the battle itself.
Mrs. Lee was one of the women taken by the Indians when her husband and
son had been killed at the massacre, as already narrated. She had with
her a daughter twelve years old and an infant. These were claimed by
our old friend Black Partridge under the following circumstances: The
daughter had been placed on horseback for the march and tied fast for
fear she would slip off the saddle. When the action was at its height
she was severely wounded by a musket ball; and the horse, becoming
frightened, set off at a gallop. The girl was partly thrown off, but was
held fast by the bands, and hung dangling until she was met by Black
Partridge, who caught the horse and disengaged her from the saddle. The
chief had known the family and was greatly attached to this little girl,
whom he recognized at once.
On finding that she was so seriously wounded that she could not recover,
and that, besides, she was suffering great agony, he put the finishing
stroke to her at once with his tomahawk. He said afterwards that this
was one of the hardest things he ever attempted to do, but that he did it
because he could not bear to see her suffer.
Black Partridge then took the mother and her infant to his village on
the Au Sable, where he became warmly attached to the former; "so much
so," relates the author of _Wau-Bun_, "that he wished to marry her; but
as she very naturally objected, he treated her with the greatest respect
and consideration." He was not disposed to liberate her from captivity,
however, hoping that in time he could prevail upon her to become his wife.
During the following winter the child became ill, and was not restored
by ordinary cures. Black Partridge then offered to take the child to
Chicago, where the French trader named Du Pin, who had arrived after the
massacre, was then living in the Kinzie house, and obtain medical aid
from him. Accordingly the child was warmly wrapped, and the chief carried
his precious charge all the way in his arms.
Arriving at the residence of M. du Pin, he carefully placed the child
on the floor. "What have you there?" asked the trader. "A young raccoon,
which I have brought you as a present," replied the chief. Then opening
the pack, he displayed the little sick child. M. du Pin furnished some
remedies for its complaint and when Black Partridge was about to return
he told the trader of his proposal to Mrs. Lee to become his wife, and of
the way it had been received.
M. du Pin, being a man of discernment, "entertained some fears,"
continues the _Wau-Bun_ account, "that the chief's 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 negotiation for her
ransom, and so effectually wrought upon the good feelings of Black
Partridge that he consented to bring his fair prisoner at once to
Chicago, that she might be restored to her friends."
Mrs. Lee accordingly was brought to Chicago and had an opportunity of
expressing her gratitude to the French trader who had, without having
seen her or known her, rendered so important a service as paying a
ransom for her return to civilization. In course of time this M. du
Pin, who it seems was a man without a family when he came, proposed to
Mrs. Lee himself, and, more fortunate than the dusky chieftain, he was
accepted. "We only know," says the _Wau-Bun_ account, "that in process of
time Mrs. Lee became Madame du Pin, and that they lived together in great
happiness for many years after."
It is a relief, after narrating the events connected with the evacuation
of Fort Dearborn and the massacre which followed it, to invite the
reader's attention to this picture, as a contrast with the havoc and
dismay of that dreadful day in August, 1812, when Chicago was left with
but one white inhabitant, and he a renegade.
At St. Joseph the Kinzie family remained under the protection of Chief
Topenebe and his band until the following November. They were then
conducted to Detroit under the escort of trusty Indian friends, and
delivered up as prisoners of war to the British. Soon after John Kinzie
was paroled, though afterwards again taken into custody. At the end of
the war he was finally released, and in 1816 he again became a resident
of Chicago, when the second Fort Dearborn was built and occupied by a
garrison of United States troops.
After the destruction of Fort Dearborn, Chicago ceased for a time to be
a fit dwelling-place for white men and their families. It continued in
this condition with but little change for the following four years, and
then the troops came back. Meanwhile peace had been concluded between the
two warring nations, treaties of peace and friendship had been made with
various tribes of Indians, and a new era began.
During the winter succeeding the battle and massacre the only two
residents of Chicago who were householders were Ouilmette and Du Pin. A
pretty fair estimate may be made of the total population of the place,
including the half-breed children of Ouilmette and the _engagés_ and
helpers in the employ of Du Pin. It is safe to say that the total number
was not more than ten or twelve persons.
Bloody retribution overtook at least one of those among the savages who
on the day of the massacre showed no mercy to his victims. This was a
chief known as a deadly enemy of the whites and who bore the expressive
name of Shavehead, because of his peculiar manner of tying up his scanty
hair. Years afterwards Chief Shavehead was in company with a band of
hunters in the Michigan woods; in the party was a white man who had
formerly been a soldier at Fort Dearborn, and was one of the survivors of
the battle on the lake shore. At one of the campfires the chief, being
of a boastful disposition related, while under the influence of liquor
to those sitting about the camp-fire, the frightful tale concerning the
events of that day, dwelling upon its horrors and boasting of his own
deeds. He was not aware that one of the whites whom he had so fiercely
assailed was at that moment listening to his braggart utterances. The
old soldier, as he heard the tale, was maddened by the recall of the
well-remembered scenes.
Toward nightfall the old savage departed alone in the direction of the
forest. Silently the soldier with loaded rifle followed upon his steps.
Others observed them as they passed out of sight into the shades of
the forest. The soldier returned after a time to his companions, but
Shavehead was never again seen. "He had paid the penalty of the crime,"
says Mason, "to one who could with some fitness exact it."
The War of 1812, between the United States and Great Britain, was
actually begun some time before the date of the declaration of war
issued by the United States, on June 12, 1812; and it was continued some
time after the treaty of peace had been signed, December 24, 1814. Of
this war, the Fort Dearborn massacre on August 15, 1812, was one of the
disastrous events.
"The lives of thirty thousand Americans," says Larned, "were sacrificed
during this war of two and a half years, and the national debt was
increased one hundred millions of dollars."
Nine years cover the period of existence of Old Fort Dearborn. In
that nine years of history it witnessed the efforts of three nations
to subdue a continent, and played its part in the struggles between
those nations. Established as a frontier post, it became an important
link in the chain of western defenses, and one of those schools of
military instruction in which lessons were learned by those who had
the task of preserving by force of arms a young republic in the midst
of powerful and unscrupulous foes. A rallying point for traders and
settlers in the virgin fields of the west, it was representative of a
phase of development of the great Northwest Territory, and indeed of the
development of the United States. Its culminating disaster, which left
it a heap of ruins, was one of those temporary setbacks which do not for
long hold back the progress of such a growing nation. Within four years
after the accident of war had made the fort and those in and about it the
victims of a lingering barbarism, the foothold of the nation was secure
in the west, the beginnings of its agricultural and commercial prosperity
were laid, and upon the ruins of the old fort rose the walls of a new
Fort Dearborn.
THE END.
* * * * *
Transcriber Note
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