COMMENCEMENT OF THE SAUK WAR.
A few weeks after our return, my husband took his mother to Prairie du
Chien for the benefit of medical advice from Dr. Beaumont, of the U.S.
Army. The journey was made in a large open boat down the Wisconsin
River, and it was proposed to take this opportunity to bring back a good
supply of corn for the winter's use of both men and cattle.
The ice formed in the river, however, so early, that after starting
with his load he was obliged to return with it to the Prairie, and wait
until the thick winter's ice enabled 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 uncomfortable
intelligence of new troubles with the Sauks and Foxes. Black Hawk had,
with the flower of his nation, recrossed the Mississippi, once more to
take possession of their old homes and corn-fields.[52]
It was not long before our own Indians came flocking in, to confirm the
tidings, and to assure us of their intention to remain faithful 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 General Atkinson, in pursuit of the hostile Indians, who, by the
reports, were always able to elude their vigilance. It not being their
custom to stop and give battle, the Sauks soon scattered themselves
through the country, trusting to some lucky accident (and such arrived,
alas! only too often) to enable them to fall upon their enemies
unexpectedly.
The experience of the pursuing army was, for the most part, to make
their way, by toilsome and fatiguing marches, to the spot where they
imagined the Sauks would be waiting to receive them, and then to
discover that the rogues had scampered off to quite a different part of
the country.
Wherever these latter went, their course was marked by the most
atrocious barbarities, 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 defenceless inhabitants and cruelly murdering them.
As soon as it became certain that the Sauks and Foxes would not pursue
the same course they had on the previous year, that is, retreat
peaceably across the Mississippi, Mr. Kinzie resolved to hold a council
with all the principal chiefs of the Winnebagoes 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 distinguish themselves by "taking
some white scalps." They did not love the Americans--why should they? By
them they had been 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 watchfulness was necessary, and that the strongest arguments must
be brought forward, to preserve 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
attacked us it must be after killing them; and, knowing them well, we
had perfect confidence in their assurances.
But their vicinity, while it gave us a feeling of protection, likewise
furnished us with a channel of the most exciting and agitating daily
communications. As the theatre of operations approached nearer and
nearer, intelligence was brought in by their runners--now, that "Captain
Barney's head had been recognized in the Sauk camp, where it had been
brought the day previous," next, that "the Sauks were carrying
Lieutenant 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 unhappily true, as that of the murder of their Agent, M. St Vrain, at
Kellogg's Grove, by the Sauks themselves, who ought to have protected
him.
It was after the news of this last occurrence that the appointed council
with the Winnebagoes was to be held at the Four Lakes, thirty-five miles
distant from Fort Winnebago.
In vain we pleaded and remonstrated against such an exposure. "It was
his duty to assemble his people and talk to them," my husband said, "and
he must run the risk, if there were any. He had perfect confidence in
the Winnebagoes. The enemy, by all he could learn, were now far distant
from the Four Lakes--probably at Kosh-ko-nong. He would set off early in
the morning with Paquette, bold 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 Indian, or even the
barking of a dog, would fill our hearts with terror.
As we sat, at a late hour, at the open window, 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. My husband and his interpreter had ridden
seventy miles that day, besides holding a long "talk" with the Indians.
The Winnebagoes 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 remain friendly and keep aloof
from the Sauks. To that end, they were 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 professed themselves unable to answer.
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. The tidings of the latter were brought by old
Crély,[53] 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 gentleman named Follett, whose eyes
had become so protruded and set from keeping an anxious look-out for the
enemy, that it was many days after his arrival at a place of safety
before they resumed their accustomed limits and expression.
Among other rumors which at this time reached us, was one that an attack
upon Fort Winnebago was in contemplation among the Sauks. That this was
in no state of defence the Indians very well knew. All the effective
men had been withdrawn, upon a requisition from General Atkinson, to
join him at his newly-built fort at Kosh-ko-nong.
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 resist 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 generally
received a scoffing answer.
"Never fear," they would say; "the Sauks are not coming here to attack
us."
One afternoon we were over on a visit to some ladies 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 even take the trouble to fasten the blinds 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's opinion. He was at Chicago during
the Winnebago 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 Winnebago 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 inclosing the garrison.
There was every reason to believe that the enemy were not very far
distant, and that their object in coming north was to break a way 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 massacre 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--Mâtâ 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
children 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
resolved to use them, if necessity required. I do not remember to have
felt 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 indifference, namely, of the soldier on
the field of battle to the destruction of human life Had I been called
upon, however, to use my weapons effectually, 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 rarely 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!"[54] (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 agitation. I could not understand him, and I lay trembling, and
dreading to hear his errand interpreted. Now and then I could
distinguish the words Sau-kee (Sauks) and Shoonk-hat-tay-rah (horse),
and they were not very reassuring.
The trouble, 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 advice.
After listening to all he had to communicate, his Father told him the
trail was undoubtedly 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.
The completion of the picketing and other defences, together with the
arrival of a detachment of troops from Fort Howard under Lieutenant
Hunter, at our fort, now seemed to render the latter the place of
greatest safety. We therefore regularly, every evening immediately
before dusk, took up our line of march for the opposite side of the
river, and repaired to quarters 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 over the Portage--indeed, we seldom sat anywhere else, our
almost sole occupation being to look abroad and see what was coming
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
extremity of the road, we could perceive a moving body of horsemen,
which, as they approached, we saw to be Indians. They were in full
costume. Scarlet streamers fluttered at the ends of their lances--their
arms glittered in the sun. Presently, as they drew nearer, their paint
and feathers and brooches became visible. There were fifty or more
warriors. 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 distant 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 appeared from 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 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 preserving 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 character, brought us, confirmed that already received,
namely, that the Sauks were gradually drawing north, towards the
Portage, although he evidently did not know exactly their whereabouts.
There was, soon after they had taken leave, an arrival of another party
of Winnebagoes, and these 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 windows, according to custom, and my
husband 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 the dancers 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 green chaplets 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 covered, 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 before 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,
in a low tone, "I have always thought that I was to lose my life by the
hands of the Indians. 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 remarkably 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 she 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
children, through a crevice of the door, to come and join us. The
latter, feeling no danger, 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 satisfaction 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 frightened "the white squaws." Such a trick would not be unnatural in
a white youth, and perhaps, since human nature is everywhere the same,
it might not be out of the way in an Indian.