GREEN BAY
Our arrival at Green Bay was at an unfortunate moment. It was the time
of a treaty between the United States Government and the Menomonees
and Wau-ba-na-kees. Consequently, not only the commissioners of the
treaty, with their clerks and officials, but traders, claimants,
travellers, and idlers innumerable were upon the ground. Most of
these were congregated in the only hotel the place afforded. This
was a tolerably-sized house near the river-side, and as we entered
the long dining-room, cold and dripping from the open boat, we were
infinitely amused at the motley assemblage it contained. Various
groups were seated around. New comers, like ourselves, stood here and
there, for there were not seats enough to accommodate all who sought
entertainment. Judge Arndt, the landlord, sat calm and indifferent,
his hands in his pockets, exhibiting all the phlegm of a Pennsylvania
Dutchman.[14]
His fat, notable spouse was trotting round, now stopping to scold
about some one who, "burn his skin!" had fallen short in his duty,
now laughing good humoredly until her sides shook, at some witticism
addressed to her.
She welcomed us very cordially, but to our inquiry, "Can you
accommodate us?" her reply was, "Not I. I have got twice as many people
now as I know what to do with. I have had to turn my own family out of
their quarters, what with the commissioners and the lot of folks that
has come in upon us."
[Illustration: FORT HOWARD IN 1855.
From daguerreotype in possession of Wisconsin Historical Society.]
"What are we to do then? It is too late and stormy to go up to
Shanty-town[15] to seek for lodgings."
"Well, sit you down and take your supper, and we will see what we can
do."
And she actually did contrive to find a little nook, in which we were
glad to take refuge from the multitudes around us.
A slight board partition separated us from the apartment occupied by
General Root, of New York, one of the commissioners of the treaty.
The steamer in which we came had brought the mail, at that day a rare
blessing to the distant settlements. The opening and reading of all the
dispatches, which the General received about bed-time, had, of course,
to be gone through with, before he could retire to rest. His eyes being
weak, his secretaries were employed to read the communications. He was
a little deaf withal, and through the slight division between the two
apartments the contents of the letters, and his comments upon them,
were unpleasantly audible, as he continually admonished his secretary
to raise his voice.
"What is that, Walter? Read that over again."
In vain we coughed and hemmed, and knocked over sundry pieces of
furniture. They were too deeply interested to hear aught that passed
around them, and if we had been politicians we should have had all the
secrets of the _working-men's party_ at our disposal, out of which to
have made capital.
The next morning it was still rain! rain! nothing but rain! In spite
of it, however, the gentlemen would take a small boat to row to the
steamer, to bring up the luggage, not the least important part of that
which appertained to us, being sundry boxes of silver for paying the
annuities to the Winnebagoes at the Portage.
I went out with some others of the company upon the piazza, to witness
their departure. A gentleman pointed out to me Fort Howard, on a
projecting point of the opposite shore, about three-quarters of a mile
distant--the old barracks, the picketed inclosure, the walls, all
looking quaint, and, considering their modern erection, really ancient
and venerable.[16] Presently we turned our attention to the boat, which
had by this time gained the middle of the river. One of the passengers
was standing up in the stern, apparently giving some directions.
"That is rather a venturesome fellow," remarked one; "if he is not
careful he will lose his balance." And at this moment we saw him
actually perform a summerset backward, and disappear in the water.
"Oh!" cried I, "he will be drowned!"
The gentlemen laughed. "No, there he is; they are helping him in again."
The course of the boat was immediately changed, and the party returned
to the shore. It was not until one disembarked and came dripping and
laughing towards me, that I recognized him as my own peculiar property.
He was pleased to treat the matter as a joke, but I thought it rather a
sad beginning of western experience.
He suffered himself to be persuaded to intrust the care of his effects
to his friends, and having changed his dress, prepared to remain
quietly with me, when just at this moment a vehicle drove up to the
door, and we recognized the pleasant, familiar face of our old friend.
Judge Doty.[17]
He had received the news of our arrival, and had come to take us at
once to his hospitable mansion. We were only too happy to gather
together our bags and travelling baskets, and accompany him without
farther ceremony.
Our drive took us first along the edge of Navarino, next through
Shanty-town (the latter a far more appropriate name than the former),
amid mud and mire, over bad roads, and up and down hilly, break-neck
places, until we reached the little brick dwelling of our friends.
Mrs. Doty received us with such true sisterly kindness, and everything
seemed so full of welcome, that we soon felt ourselves at home.
We found that, expecting our arrival, invitations had already been
prepared to assemble the whole circle of Green Bay society to meet us
at an evening party--this, in a new country, being the established mode
of doing honor to guests or strangers.
We learned, upon inquiry, that Captain Harney,[18] who had kindly
offered to come with a boat and crew of soldiers from Fort Winnebago,
to convey us to that place, our destined home, had not yet arrived; we
therefore felt at liberty to make arrangements for a few days of social
enjoyment at "the Bay."
It was pleasant to people, secluded in such a degree from the world at
large, to hear all the news we had brought--all the particulars of life
and manners--the thousand little items that the newspapers of that day
did not dream of furnishing--the fashions, and that general gossip, in
short, which a lady is erroneously supposed more _au fait_ of, than a
gentleman.
I well remember that, in giving and receiving information, the day
passed in a pretty uninterrupted stream of communication. All the party
except myself had made the journey, or rather voyage, up the Fox River
and down the Wisconsin to the Mississippi.
There were plenty of anecdotes of a certain trip performed by them in
company, along with a French trader and his two sisters, now making
their début as western travellers. The manner in which Mademoiselle
Julie would borrow, without leave, a fine damask napkin or two, to wipe
out the ducks in preparation for cooking--the difficulty of persuading
either of the sisters of the propriety of washing and rinsing their
table apparatus nicely before packing it away in the mess-basket, the
consequence of which was, that another nice napkin must be stealthily
whisked out, to wipe the dishes when the hour for meals arrived--the
fun of the young gentleman in hunting up his stray articles, thus
misappropriated, from the nooks and corners of the boat, tying them
with a cord, and hanging them over the stern, to make their way down
the Wisconsin to Prairie du Chien.
Then there was a capital story of M. Rolette[19] himself. At one point
on the route (I think in crossing Winnebago Lake), the travellers met
one of the Company's boats on its way to Green Bay for supplies. M. R.
was one of the agents of the Company, and the people in the boat were
his employés. Of course, after an absence of some weeks from home,
the meeting on these lonely waters and the exchanging of news was an
occasion of great excitement.
The boats were stopped--earnest greetings interchanged--question
followed question.
"_Eh! Bien_--have they finished the new house?"
"_Oui, Monsieur._"
"_Et la cheminée, fume-t-elle?_" (Does the chimney smoke?)
"_Non, Monsieur._"
"And the harvest--how is that?"
"Very fine, indeed."
"Is the mill at work?"
"Yes, plenty of water."
"How is Whip?" (his favorite horse).
"Oh! Whip is first-rate."
Everything, in short, about the store, the farm, the business of
various descriptions being satisfactorily gone over, there was no
occasion for farther delay. It was time to proceed.
"_Eh! Men--adieu! hon voyage!_"
"_Arrachez--mes gens!_" (Go ahead, men!)
Then suddenly--"_Arrétez--arrétez!_" (Stop, stop!)
"_Comment se portent Madame Rolette ct les enfans?_"
(How are Mrs. Rolette and the children?)
* * * * *
This day, with its excitement, was at length over, and we retired to
our rest, thankful that we had not General Root and his secretary close
to our bed's head, with their budget of political news.
My slumbers were not destined, however, to be quite undisturbed. I was
awakened, at the first slight peep of dawn by a sound from an apartment
beneath our own--a plaintive, monotonous chant, rising and then falling
in a sort of mournful cadence. It seemed to me a wail of something
unearthly--so wild--so strange--so unaccountable. In terror I awoke my
husband, who reassured me by telling me it was the morning salutation
of the Indians to the opening day.
Some Menomonees had been kindly given shelter for the night in
the kitchen below, and having fulfilled their unvarying custom of
chanting their morning hymn, they now ceased, and again composed
themselves to sleep. But not so their auditor. There was to me
something inexpressibly beautiful in this morning song of praise
from the untaught sons of the forest. What a lesson did it preach to
the civilized, Christianized world, too many of whom lie down and
rise up without an aspiration of thanksgiving to their Almighty
Preserver--without even a remembrance of His care, who gives His angels
charge concerning them! Never has the impression of that simple act
of worship faded from my mind. I have loved to think that, with some,
these strains might be the outpouring of a devotion as pure as that of
the Christian when he utters the inspiring words of the sainted Ken--
"Awake, my soul! and with the sun," etc.
* * * * *
Among the visitors who called to offer me a welcome to the West, were
Mr. and Miss Cadle,[20] who were earnestly engaged in the first steps
of their afterwards flourishing enterprise for the education of Indian
and half-breed children. The school-houses and chapel were not yet
erected, but we visited their proposed site, and listened with great
interest to bright anticipations of the future good that was to be
accomplished--the success that was to crown their efforts for taming
the heathen, and teaching them the knowledge of their Saviour, and the
blessings of civilized life. The sequel has shown how little the zeal
of the few can accomplish, when opposed to the cupidity of the many.
* * * * *
Our evening party went off as parties do elsewhere. The most
interesting feature to me, because the most novel, was the conversation
of some young ladies to whom I was introduced, natives of Green Bay,
or its vicinity. Their mother was a Me-no-mo-nee, but their father was
a Frenchman, a descendant of a settler some generations back, and who,
there is reason to believe, was a branch of the same family of Grignon
to which the daughter of Madame de Sevigné belonged. At least, it is
said there are in the possession of the family many old papers and
records which would give that impression, although the orthography
of the name has become slightly changed. Be that as it may, the Miss
Grignons were strikingly dignified, well-bred young ladies, and there
was a charm about their soft voices, and original, unsophisticated
remarks, very attractive to a stranger.
They opened to me, however, a new field of apprehension; for, on my
expressing my great impatience to see my new home, they exclaimed, with
a look of wonder:
"_Vous n'avez done pas peur des serpens?_"
"Snakes! Was it possible there were snakes at Fort Winnebago?"
"At the Portage! oh! yes--one can never walk out for
them--rattle-snakes--copper-heads--all sorts!"
I am not naturally timid, but I must confess that the idea of the
_serpens sonnettes_ and the _siffleurs_ was not quite a subject of
indifference.
There was one among these young ladies whose tall, graceful figure,
rich, blooming complexion, and dark, glancing eye, would have
distinguished her in any drawing-room--and another, whose gentle
sweetness and cultivated taste made it a matter of universal regret
that she was afterwards led to adopt the seclusion of a convent.[21]
Captain Harney and his boat arrived in due time, and active
preparations for the comfort of our journey commenced under the kind
supervision of Mrs. Doty. The mess-basket was stowed with good things
of every description--ham and tongue--biscuit and plum-cake--not to
mention the substantial of crackers, bread, and boiled pork, the latter
of which, however, a lady was supposed to be too fastidious to think of
touching, even if starving in the woods.
We had engaged three Canadian voyageurs to take charge of our tent,
mess-basket, and matters and things in general. Their business it was
to be to cut the wood for our fires, prepare our meals, and give a
helping hand to whatever was going forward. A messenger had also been
sent to the Kakalin, or rapids, twenty-one miles above, to notify
_Wish-tay-yun_ (the blacksmith), the most accomplished guide through
the difficult passes of the river, to be in readiness for our service
on a specified day.
In the meantime, we had leisure for one more party, and it was to
be a "real western hop." Everybody will remember that dance at Mrs.
Baird's.[22] All the people, young and old, that would be gathered
throughout, or, as it was the fashion to express it, _on_ Green Bay,
were assembled. The young officers were up from Fort Howard, looking
so smart in their uniforms. Treasures of finery, long uncalled
forth, were now brought to light. Everybody was bound to do honor
to the strangers by appearing in their very best. It was to be an
entertainment unequalled by any given before. All the house was put
in requisition for the occasion. Desks and seats were unceremoniously
dismissed from Mr. B.'s office, which formed one wing, to afford more
space for the dancers. Not only the front portion of the dwelling, but
even the kitchen was made fit for the reception of company, in case any
primitive visitor, as was sometimes the case, should prefer sitting
down quietly there and smoking his cigar. I do not know that this was
actually done, but it was an emergency that, in those days, had always
to be provided for.
Nothing could exceed the mirth and hilarity of the
company. No restraint, but of good manners--no excess of
conventionalities--genuine, hearty good-humor and enjoyment, such
as pleasant, hospitable people, with just enough of the French
element to add zest to anything like amusement, could furnish, to
make the entertainment agreeable. In a country so new, and where, in
a social gathering the number of the company was, in a slight degree
more important than the quality, the circle was not always, strictly
speaking, select. For instance, the connexions of each family must
be invited, even if there was something "a little peculiar" in their
appearance, manners, or perhaps vocation, which might make their
presence not quite desirable.
I was aware of this, and was therefore more amused than surprised when
a clumsy little man, with a broad, red, laughing face, waddled across
the room to where I had taken my seat after a dance, and thus addressed
me:
"_Miss_ K ----, nobody hain't never introduced you to me, but I've seen
you a good many times, and I know your husband very well, so I thought
I might just as well come and speak to you--my name is A--dt."
"Ah! Mr. A----, good evening. I hope you are enjoying yourself. How is
your sister?"
"Oh! she is a great deal worse--her cold has got into her eye, and it
is all _shot up_."
Then turning full upon a lady[D] who sat near, radiant with youth and
beauty, sparkling with wit and genuine humor:
[Footnote D: A niece of James Fenimore Cooper.]
"Oh! Mrs. Beall,"[23] he began, "what a beautiful gown you have got on,
and how handsome you do look! I declare you're the prettiest woman in
the room, and dance the handsomest."
"Indeed, Mr. A----," replied she, suppressing her love of fun and
assuming a demure look, "I am afraid you flatter me."
"No, I don't--I'm in earnest. I've just come to ask you to dance."
Such was the penalty of being too charming. Poor A----, in a cotillion,
was not the least enlivening part of this evening's entertainment.