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 militia, and the steamboat Warrior
combined, had made a final end of the remaining handful 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. "Give me
two infantry 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 effectually and _catch_ the Indians, a peculiar training is
necessary--a training which, at that day, few, even of the frontier
militia, 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 contempt upon the unprofessional movements of the
militia; the militia railed at the dilatory 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."
The feeling of contempt which the army officers entertained for the
militia, extended itself to their subordinates and dependants. After the
visit of the Ranger officers to Fort Winnebago, before the battle of the
Wisconsin, the officer of the mess where they had been entertained
called up his servant one day to inquire into the sutler's accounts, 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 sutler'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-kau-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 permitted to cross and reach the rest of
that tribe.
The canoes had been tied together, and many of them were upset, and the
children drowned, their mothers being too weak and exhausted to rescue
them. The survivors were taken prisoners, and, starving and miserable,
were brought to Prairie du Chien. Our mother was at the Port 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 were found lying in their trail by the
pursuing whites. This poor woman had lost her husband in battle, and all
her children 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 husband to collect the principal chiefs of the Winnebagoes and meet
General Scott and Governor Reynolds at Rock Island, where it was
proposed to bold a treaty for the purchase of all the lands east and
south of the Wisconsin. Messengers were accordingly sent to collect the
principal men, 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 of one range of quarters, Lieutenant Lacy
came suddenly in from the opposite direction, and, almost without
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 news." So saying, he
vanished, without stopping to answer a question.
The cholera at Rock Island, and my husband there! I flew to the other
door of the hall, which looked out upon the parade-ground. A sentinel
was walking near. "Soldier," 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 allowed to leave his post.
Presently Mrs. Lacy's servant-girl appeared from a door under the steps.
She was a worthless creature, but where _help_ was so scarce ladies
could not afford to keep a scrupulous tariff of moral qualification.
"Oh! Catharine," said I, "will you run over and ask Dr. Finley to come
here a moment? 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 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 recovered, 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
situation is more deplorable than if they surrendered 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[57] extending to
the interior of Iowa, and an additional sum of ten thousand dollars
annually.
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-kah (the Little Snake) voluntarily gave himself as a hostage
until the delivery of the suspected persons. He was accordingly received
by the Agent, and marched over and placed in confinement at the Fort
until the seven accused should appear to redeem him.
It was a work of some little time on the part of the nation to persuade
these suspected individuals to place themselves in the hands of the
whites, that they might receive justice according 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 persuasions, for the nation
would never have resorted to force to compel the fulfilment of their
stipulation.
In the mean time a solemn talk was held with the principal chiefs
assembled at the Agency. A great part of the nation were in the
immediate neighborhood, in obedience to a notice sent by Governor
Porter, who, in virtue of his office of Governor of Michigan Territory,
was also Superintendent of the Northwest Division of the Indians.
Instead of calling upon the Agent to take charge of the annuity money,
as had heretofore been the custom, the Governor had announced his
intention of bringing it himself to Fort Winnebago 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 instrumental 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 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 detained 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 accompany his
countrymen to Rock Island, replied, gravely,--
"That he had heard of the chief's misfortune on this occasion. How that,
in ascending the Fox River, a couple of kegs of _whiskey_ 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 to
defend them on their future trial, notice was at length given that on a
certain day they would be brought to the Portage and surrendered to
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-kah, 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 confinement by seeing that he was well
supplied with food, and his Father and Paquette had paid him occasional
visits; but, notwithstanding these attentions and the kindness he had
received at the Fort, his confinement was inexpressibly irksome.
On the morning of a bright autumnal day the authorities were notified
that the chiefs of the nation 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 brilliant color,
glittering arms, and, as they approached still nearer, certain white
objects of unusual appearance could be distinguished.
General Dodge, Major Plympton, and one or two other officers took their
seats with Mr. Kinzie on the platform in front of the door of our
mansion to receive them, while we stationed ourselves at the window
where we could both see and hear.
The procession wound up the hill, and approached, 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 accompanied
their death-song, which they were chaunting. They wore no paint, no
ornaments--their countenances were grave and thoughtful. It might well
be a serious moment to them, for they knew but little of the customs of
the whites, and that little was not such as to inspire cheerfulness.
Only their Father's assurance that they should receive strict justice,
would probably have induced them to comply with the engagements 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 receive their greeting. Then the prisoners came forward, and
went through the same salutation with the officers. When they offered
their hands to their Father, he declined.
"No," said he. "You have come here accused of great crimes--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 address, as if they thought it
indicated that their Father, too, believed them guilty, and stepping
back a little, they seated themselves, 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 (the White Crow), who had been deputed to deliver
the prisoners to the Agent.
He made a speech in which he set forth that, "although asserting their
innocence of the charges preferred against them, his countrymen 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."
In reply he was assured that all things would be conducted fairly and
impartially, exactly 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 requested permission to transfer the
medal he had received as a mark of friendship from the President, 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 desirous 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.
I had watched the countenances of the prisoners as they sat on the
ground before me, while all these ceremonies were going forward. 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 remarkably fine-looking--another was a boy of certainly
not more than seventeen, and during the transfer of the medal he looked
from one to the other, and listened to what was uttered by the speakers,
with an air and expression of even childlike interest and satisfaction.
Our hearts felt sad for them as, the ceremonies 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.