By the treaty of peace with Great Britain, in 1783, the country
northwest of the Ohio River was declared to be a part of the territory
of the United States; but it was many years before the Americans had
anything more than a nominal control of Wisconsin, which was a part of
this Northwestern region. The United States was at first unable to meet
all of its obligations under this treaty; hence Great Britain kept
possession of the old fur trade posts on the Upper Lakes, including
Mackinac, of which Wisconsin was a "dependency." A British garrison was
kept at Mackinac, thus controlling the fur trade of this district, but
no troops were deemed necessary within Wisconsin itself.
To the few white inhabitants of the small fur trade villages of Green
Bay and Prairie du Chien, there was slight evidence of any of these
various changes in political ownership. Beyond the brief stay among them
of Lieutenant Gorrell and his little band of redcoats, in the years
1761-63, the French and half-breeds of Wisconsin led much the same life
as of old.
In 1780, an English fur trader, John Long, passed up the Fox River and
down the Wisconsin, and bought up a great many furs in this region. Some
years later he wrote a book about his travels, and from this we get a
very good idea of life among the French and Indians of the Northwest.
Long was at Green Bay for several days, and tells us that the houses
there were covered with birch bark, and the rooms were decorated with
bows and arrows, guns, and spears. There were in the village not over
fifty whites, divided into six or seven families. The men were for the
most part engaged as assistants to the two or three leading traders;
they spent their winters in the woods, picking up furs at the Indian
camps, and in summer cultivated their narrow strips of gardens which ran
down to the river's edge. It mattered little to them who was their
political master, so long as they were left to enjoy their simple lives
in their own fashion.
To this primitive community there came one day, in 1803, a portly,
pompous, bald headed little Frenchman, named Charles Reaume. Wisconsin
was then a part of Indiana Territory, of which William Henry Harrison
was governor. It was for the most part a wilderness; dense woods and
tenantless prairies extended all the way from the narrow clearing at
Green Bay to the little settlement at Prairie du Chien. There were small
clearings at Portage, Milwaukee, and one or two other fur trading posts.
There was no civil government here, and the few white people in all this
vast stretch of country practically made their own laws, each man being
judge and jury for himself, so long as he did not interfere with other
people's rights.
Reaume bore a commission from Governor Harrison, appointing him justice
of the peace at Green Bay, which meant nearly all of the country west of
Lake Michigan. Thus "Judge Reaume," as he was called, was the only civil
officer in Wisconsin, and although apparently never reappointed, he
retained this distinction by popular consent until after the War of
1812-15; indeed, for several years after that, he was the principal
officer of justice in these parts.
The judge was a good-hearted man, when one penetrated beneath the crust
of official pomposity with which he was generally enveloped. He appears
to have owned a volume of Blackstone, but the only law he understood or
practiced was the old "Law of Paris," which had governed Canada from the
earliest time, and which still rules in the Province of Quebec, and it
is related that he knew little of that. His decisions were arbitrary,
but were generally based on the right as he saw it, quite regardless of
the technicalities of the law.
A great many queer stories are told of old Judge Reaume. He loved
display after his simple fashion, and invented for himself an official
uniform, which he wore on all public occasions. This consisted of a
scarlet frock coat faced with white silk, and gay with spangled buttons;
it can still be seen in the museum of the State Historical Society. He
issued few warrants or subpoenas; it is told of him that whenever he
wanted a person to appear before him, either as witness or principal, he
sent to that person the constable, bearing his honor's well-known large
jackknife, which was quite as effectual as the king's signet ring of
olden days.
Quite often did he adjudge guilty both complainant and defendant,
obliging them both to pay a fine, or to work so many days in his garden;
and sometimes both were acquitted, the constable being ordered to pay
the costs. It is even said that the present of a bottle of whisky to the
judge was sufficient to insure a favorable decision. The story is told
that once, when the judge had actually rendered a decision in a certain
case, the person decided against presented the court with a new
coffee-pot, whereupon the judgment was reversed.
There may be some exaggeration in these tales of the earliest judge in
Wisconsin, but they appear to be in the main substantiated.
Nevertheless, although there doubtless was some grumbling, it speaks
well for the old justice of the peace, and for the orderly good nature
of this little French community without a jail, that no one appears ever
to have questioned the legality of Reaume's decisions. These were
strictly abided by, and although he was never reappointed, he held
office under both American and British sway, simply because no one was
sent to succeed him.
Not only was Reaume Wisconsin's judge and jury during the first two
decades of the nineteenth century, but as there was, during much of his
time, no priest hereabouts, he drew up marriage contracts, and married
and divorced people at will, issued baptismal certificates, and kept a
registry of births and deaths. He certified alike to British and
American military commissions; drew up contracts between the fur traders
and their employees; wrote letters for the _habitants_; and performed
for the settlers all those functions of Church and state for which we
now require a long list of officials and professional men. He was a
picturesque and important functionary, illustrating in his person the
simple fashions and modest desires of the French who first settled this
State. We are now a wealthier people, but certainly there have never
been happier times in Wisconsin, all things considered, than in the
primitive days of old Judge Reaume and his official jackknife.