FORT HOWARD--OUR RETURN HOME
We soon learned that a great panic prevailed at Green Bay on account
of the Sauks.[108] The people seemed to have possessed themselves with
the idea that the enemy would visit this place on their way to Canada
to put themselves under the protection of the British Government. How
they were to get there from this point--whether they were to stop and
fabricate themselves bark canoes for the purpose, or whether they were
to charter one of Mr. Newberry's schooners for the trip, the good
people did not seem fully to have made up their minds. One thing is
certain, a portion of the citizens were nearly frightened to death, and
were fully convinced that there was no safety for them, but within the
walls of the old dilapidated fort, from which nearly all the troops had
been withdrawn and sent to Fort Winnebago, some time previous.
Their fears were greatly aggravated by a report, brought by some
traveller, that he had slept at night on the very spot where the Sauks
breakfasted the next morning. Now, as the Sauks were known to be
reduced to very short commons, there was every reason to suppose that
if the man had waited half an hour longer, they would have eaten him;
so he was considered to have made a wonderful escape.
Our immediate friends and acquaintances were far from joining in these
fears. The utter improbability of such a movement was obvious to all
who considered the nature of the country to be traversed, and the
efficient and numerous body of whites by whom they must be opposed on
their entrance into that neighborhood. There were some, however, who
could not be persuaded that there was even any security but in flight,
and eagerly was the arrival of the "Mariner" looked for, as the anxiety
grew more and more intense.
The "Mariner" appeared at last. It was early in the morning. In one
hour from that time, the fearful news she brought had spread the
whole length of "the bay." The cholera was in this country! It was in
Detroit--it was among the troops who were on their way to the seat of
war! Whole companies had died of it in the river St. Clair, and the
survivors had been put on shore at Fort Gratiot, to save their lives as
best they might! We were shut in between the savage foe on one hand and
the pestilence on the other![109]
To those who had friends "at the East," the news was most appalling. It
seemed to unman every one who heard it. A relative, an officer who had
exhibited the most distinguished courage in the battle-field, and also
in some private enterprises demanding unequalled courage and daring,
was the first to bring us the news. When he had communicated it, he
laid his head against the window sill and wept like a child.
Those who wished to rejoin friends near and dear, left "the bay" in the
"Mariner"; all others considered their present home the safest, and so
it proved, for the dreadful scourge did not visit Green Bay that season.
The weather was intensely hot, and the musquitoes so thick that we
did not pretend to walk on the parade after sunset, unless armed with
two fans, or green branches to keep constantly in motion, in order to
disperse them. This, by the way, was the surest method of attracting
them. We had somehow forgotten the apathetic indifference which had
often excited our wonder in old Smoker, when we had observed him calmly
sitting and allowing his naked arms and person to become literally
_gray_ with the tormenting insects. Then he would quietly wipe off a
handful, the blood following the movement of the hand over his skin,
and stoically wait for an occasion to repeat the movement. It is said
that the mosquito, if undisturbed until he has taken his fill, leaves a
much less inflamed bite than if brushed away in the midst of his feast.
By day, the air was at this season filled with what is called the
Green Bay fly, a species of dragon-fly, with which the outer walls
of the houses are at times so covered that their color is hardly
distinguishable. Their existence is very ephemeral, scarcely lasting
more than a day. Their dead bodies are seen adhering to the walls and
windows within, and they fall without in such numbers that after a high
wind has gathered them into rows along the sides of the quarters, one
may walk through them and toss them up with their feet like the dry
leaves in autumn.
As we walked across the parade, our attention was sometimes called
to a tapping upon the bars of the dungeon in which a criminal was
confined--it was the murderer of Lieutenant Foster.
It may be remembered that this amiable young officer had been our
travelling companion in our journey from Chicago the preceding year.
Some months after his arrival at Fort Howard, he had occasion to
order a soldier of his company, named Doyle, into confinement for
intoxication. The man, a few days afterward, prevailed on the Sergeant
of the Guard to escort him to Lieutenant Foster's quarters on the plea
that he wished to speak to him. He ascended the stairs to the young
officer's room, while the sergeant and another soldier remained at the
foot, near the door.
Doyle entered, and addressing Lieutenant Foster, said, "Will you please
tell me. Lieutenant, what I am confined for?"
"No, sir," replied the officer, "you know your offence well enough;
return to your place of confinement."
The man ran down stairs, wrenched the gun from the sergeant's hand, and
rushing back, discharged it at the heart of Lieutenant Foster.
He turned to go to his inner apartment, but exclaiming, "Ah! me," he
fell dead before the entrance.
Doyle, having been tried by a civil court, was now under sentence,
awaiting his execution. He was a hardened villain, never exhibiting the
slightest compunction for his crime.
The commanding officer. Major Clark,[110] sent to him one day to
inquire if he wanted anything for his comfort.
"If the Major pleased," he replied, "he should like to have a light and
a copy of Byron's Works."
Some fears were entertained that he would contrive to make way with
himself before the day of execution, and to guard against it, he was
deprived of everything that could furnish him a weapon. His food was
served to him in a wooden bowl, lest a bit of broken crockery might be
used as a means of self-destruction.
One morning he sent a little package to the commanding officer as a
present. It contained a strong rope, fabricated from strips of his
blanket, that he had carefully separated, and with a large stout spike
at the end of it. The message accompanying it was: "He wished Major
Clark to see that if he chose to put an end to himself, he could find
means to do it in spite of him."
And this hardened frame of mind continued to the last. When he was led
out for execution, in passing beyond the gate, he observed a quantity
of lumber recently collected for the construction of a new Company's
store.
"Ah! Captain, what are you going to build here?" inquired he of Captain
Scott,[111] who attended him.
"Doyle," replied his Captain, "you have but a few moments to live--you
had better employ your thoughts about something else."
"It is for that very reason, Captain," said he, "that I am
enquiring--as my time is short, I wish to gain all the information I
can while it lasts."
* * * * *
We were not suffered to remain long in suspense in regard to the
friends we had left behind. In less than two weeks _Old Smoker_ again
made his appearance. He was the bearer of letters from my husband,
informing me that Gen. Dodge was then with him at Fort Winnebago--that
Generals Henry and Alexander[112] were likewise at the fort, and that
as soon as they had recruited their men and horses, which were pretty
well worn out with scouring the country after Black Hawk, they would
march again in pursuit of him towards the head waters of the Rock
river, where they had every reason, from information lately brought in
by the Winnebagoes, to believe he would be found.
As he charged us to lay aside all uneasiness on his account, and
moreover held forth the hope of soon coming or sending for us, our
minds became more tranquil.
Not long after this, I was told one morning, that "_a lady_" wished to
see me at the front door. I obeyed the summons, and, to my surprise,
was greeted by my friend, _Madame Four-Legs_. After much demonstration
of joy at seeing me, such as putting her two hands together over her
forehead, and then parting them in a waving kind of gesture--laughing
and patting me on my arms, she drew from her bosom a letter from my
husband, of which she was the bearer, to this effect--"Generals Dodge
and Henry left here a few days since, accompanied by Paquette; they met
the Sauks near the Wisconsin, on the 21st. A battle ensued in which
upwards of fifty of the enemy were killed--our loss was one killed,
and eight wounded. The _citizens_ are well pleased that all this has
been accomplished without any aid from _Old White Beaver_.[BB] The war
must be near its close, for the militia and regulars together will soon
finish the remaining handful of fugitives."
[Footnote BB: General Atkinson.]
The arrival of Lieut. Hunter, who had obtained leave of absence in
order to escort us, soon put all things in train for our return to Fort
Winnebago. No Mackinac boat was to be had, but in lieu of it a Durham
boat was procured. This is of a description longer and shallower than
the other, with no convenience for rigging up an awning, or shelter of
any kind over the centre; but its size was better fitted to accommodate
our party, which consisted of Mr. and Mrs. H., the wife of another
officer now stationed at Fort Winnebago, and our cousin. Miss Forsyth,
in addition to our own immediate family. We made up our minds, as will
be supposed, to pretty close quarters.
Our crew was composed partly of Frenchmen, and partly of soldiers, and
all things being in readiness, we set off one fine, bright morning, in
the latter part of July.
Our second day's rowing and poling brought us to the Grande Chûte[113]
early in the afternoon.
Here, it is the custom to disembark at the foot of the rapids, and,
ascending the high bank, walk around the fall, while the men pull the
boat up, through the foaming waters.
Most of our party had already stepped on shore, when a sudden thought
seized one of the ladies and myself.
"Let us stay in the boat," said we, "and be pulled up the Chûte."
The rest of the company went on, while we sat and watched with great
interest the preparations the men were making. They were soon overboard
in the water, and attaching a strong rope to the bow of the boat, all
lent their aid in pulling as they marched slowly along with their heavy
load. The cargo, consisting only of our trunks and stores, which were
of no very considerable weight, had not been removed.
We went on, now and then getting a tremendous bump against a hidden
rock, and frequently splashed by a shower of foam as the waves roared
and boiled around us.
The men kept as closely as possible to the high, precipitous bank,
where the water was smoothest. At the head of the _cordel_ was a merry
simpleton of a Frenchman, who was constantly turning to grin with
delight at our evident enjoyment and excitement.
We were indeed in high glee. "Is not this charming?" cried one--"I only
wish--"
The wish, whatever it was, was cut short by a shout and a crash. "Have
a care, Robineau! Mind where you are taking the boat!" was the cry, but
it came too late. More occupied with the ladies than with his duty, the
leader had guided us into the midst of a sharp, projecting tree that
hung from the bank. The first tug ripped out the side of the boat,
which immediately began to fill with water.
My companion and I jumped upon the nearest rocks that showed their
heads above the foam. Our screams and the shouts of the men brought
Lieut. Hunter and some Indians, who were above on the bank, dashing
down to our rescue. They carried us in their arms to land, while
the men worked lustily at fishing up the contents of the boat, now
thoroughly saturated with water.
We scrambled up the high bank, in a miserable plight, to join in the
general lamentation over the probable consequences of the accident.
"Oh! my husband's new uniform!" cried one, and
"Oh! the miniatures in the bottom of my trunk!" sighed another--while,
"Oh! the silk dresses, and the ribbons, and the finery," formed the
general chorus.
No one thought of the provisions, although we had observed in our
progress to shore, the barrel of bread and the tub of ice, which Lieut.
Hunter had providently brought for our refreshment, sailing away on
the dancing waves. Among the boxes brought to land, and "toted" up the
steep bank, was one containing some loaves of sugar and packages of
tea, which I had bought for our winter's supply, from the sutler at
the post. The young Indian, who was the bearer of it, set it upon the
ground, and soon called my attention to a thick, white stream that was
oozing from the corners. I made signs for him to taste it. He dipped
his finger in it, and exclaimed with delight to his companions, when he
perceived what it was. I then pointed to his hatchet, and motioned him
to open the box. He did not require a second invitation--it was soon
hacked to pieces.
[Illustration: THE GRAND CHÛTE--FOX RIVER.
From a sketch by Mrs. Kinzie, in original edition.]
Then, as I beckoned up all the rest of the youngsters who were looking
on, full of wonder, such a scrambling and shouting with delight
succeeded as put us all, particularly the boys, into fits of laughter.
Bowls, dippers, hands, everything that could contain even the smallest
quantity were put in requisition. The squaws were most active. Those
who could do no better, took the stoutest fragments of the blue paper
in which the sugar had been enveloped, and in a trice, nothing remained
but the wet, yellow bundles of tea, and the fragments of the splintered
box which had contained it.
By this time, fires had been made, and the articles from the trunks
were soon seen covering every shrub and bush in the vicinity.
Fortunately, that containing the "new uniform," had been piled high
above the others, in the centre of the boat, and had received but
little damage, but sad was the condition of the wardrobes in general.
Not a white article was to be seen. All was mottled, blue-green, red,
and black, intermingling in streaks, and dripping from ends and corners.
To add to the trouble, the rain began to fall, as rain is apt to do, in
a wild, unsheltered country, and soon the half-dried garments had to
be gathered out of the smoke, and huddled away in a most discouraging
condition.
The tent was pitched, wet as it was, and the blankets, wrung out of
the water, and partially dried, were spread upon the ground for our
accommodation at night.
A Hamburgh cheese which had been a part of my stores, was voted to
me for a pillow, and, after a supper, the best part of which, was a
portion of one of the wet loaves which had remained in a barrel too
tightly wedged to drift away, we betook ourselves to our repose.
The next morning rose hot and sultry. The musquitoes, which the rain
had kept at bay through the night, now began to make themselves amends,
and to torment us unmercifully.
After our most uncomfortable and unpalatable breakfast, the first
question for consideration was, what we were to do with ourselves. Our
boat lay submerged at the foot of the hill, half way up the rapids. The
nearest habitation among the Wabeenakees was some miles distant, and
this there was no means of reaching, but by an Indian canoe, if some
of our present friends and neighbors would be so obliging as to bring
one for our use. Even then it was doubtful if boats could be found
sufficient to convey all our numerous party back to Green Bay.
In the midst of these consultations a whoop was heard from beyond the
hill, which here sloped away to the north, at the head of the rapids.
"There is John! that is certainly his voice!" cried more than one of
the company.
It was, indeed, my husband, and in a moment he was amongst us. Never
was arrival more opportune, more evidently providential.
Not having learned our plans, for the unsettled state of the country
had prevented our sending him word, he had come provided with a boat,
to take us to Fort Winnebago.
Our drying operations, which we had recommenced this morning, were soon
cut short. Everything was shuffled away in the most expeditious manner
possible, and in an incredibly short time we were transferred to the
other boat, which lay quietly above the Chûte, and were pulling away
towards Winnebago Lake.
We had resolved to go only so far as the vicinity of the lake, where
the breeze would render the musquitoes less intolerable, and then to
stop and make one more attempt at drying our clothing. Accordingly,
when we reached a beautiful high bank near the Little Butte, we stopped
for that purpose again, unpacked our trunks, and soon every bush and
twig was fluttering with the spoils of the cruel waves.
Hardly had we thus disposed of the last rag, or ribbon, when the tramp
of horses was heard, followed by loud shouts and cheers ringing through
the forest.
A company of about twenty-five horsemen, with banners flying, veils
fluttering from their hats, and arms glittering in the sun, rode into
our midst, and amid greetings and roars of laughter, inquired into the
nature and reasons of our singular state of confusion.
They were Colonel Stambaugh and Alexander Irwin of Green Bay, with
a company of young volunteers, and followed by a whooping band of
Menomonees, all bound for the seat of war.[114] We comforted them
with the assurance that the victories were by this time all won, and
the scalps taken; but, expressing the hope that there were yet a few
laurels to be earned, they bade us adieu, and rapidly pursued their
march.
We crossed Lake Winnebago by the clear beautiful light of a summer
moon. The soft air was just enough to swell the sail, and thus save the
men their labor at the oar.
The witchery of the hour was not, however, sufficient to induce us
to forego our repose after the heat and annoyances of the day--we
therefore disposed ourselves betimes to be packed away in the centre of
the boat. How it was accomplished, no one of the numerous company could
tell. If any accident had occurred to disturb our arrangement, I am
sure it would have been a Chinese puzzle to put us back again in our
places. The men on the outside had much the best of it, and we rather
envied those who were off watch their ability to snore and change as
the humor took them.
We reached Powell's just in time to have gone ashore and prepare our
breakfast, had we had wherewithal to prepare it. We had hoped to be
able to procure some supplies here, for hitherto we had been living
on the remains of my husband's ample stock. That was now so nearly
exhausted that when we found the mess-basket could not be replenished
at this place, we began to talk of putting ourselves on allowance.
The wet bread, of which there had remained an ample store, had, as
may be readily imagined, soon fermented under the influence of a July
sun. The tea, too, notwithstanding our careful efforts at drying it on
newspapers and pieces of board, ere long became musty and unfit for
use. There was, literally, nothing left, except the sotted meat, and a
few crackers, hardly sufficient for the present day.
The men were therefore urged to make all the speed possible, that we
might reach Gleason's at Lake Puckway in good season on the following
day.
At evening, when we stopped to take our tea at a beautiful little
opening among the trees, we found our old enemies the musquitoes worse
than ever. It was necessary to put on our cloaks and gloves, and tie
our veils close around our throats, only venturing to introduce a
cracker or a cup of tea under this protection in the most stealthy
manner.
The men rowed well, and brought us to Gleason's about eleven
o'clock the next day. We were greeted with the most enthusiastic
demonstrations by my old friend _La Grosse Americaine_ who had removed
here from Bellefontaine.
"Oh! Mrs. Armstrong," cried we, "get us some breakfast--we are
famishing."
At that instant who should appear but our faithful Mâtâ, driving the
little old calash in which we were in the habit of making our little
excursions in the neighborhood of the fort. He had ridden over, hoping
to meet us, in the idea that some of us would prefer this method of
reaching our home.
With provident thoughtfulness he had brought tea, roasted coffee, fresh
butter, eggs, etc., lest we should be short of such luxuries in that
advanced stage of our journey.
His "Good morning, Madame Johns! How do you dos?" was a pleasant and
welcome sound.
We could not wait for our breakfast, but gathered round La Grosse
Americaine like a parcel of children while she cut and spread slices of
bread and butter for us.
After our regular meal was finished it was decided that sister Margaret
should take Josette and return with Mats to open the house and make
it ready for our reception. It had been the headquarters of militia,
Indians, and stragglers of various descriptions during our absence, and
we could easily imagine that a little "misrule and unreason" might have
had sway for that period.
We had yet seventy-two miles, by the devious winding course of the
river, over first the beautiful waters of Lac de Bœuf, and then
through the low marshy lands that spread away to the Portage. An
attempt was made on the part of one of the gentlemen to create a little
excitement among the ladies as we approached the spot where it had
been supposed the Sauks might pass on their way to the Chippewa country.
"Who knows," said he gravely, "but they may be lurking in this
neighborhood--yet if so, we shall probably have some signal--we must
be on the alert!" Some of the ladies began to turn pale and look about
them. After an interval of perfect silence, a low prolonged whistle
was heard. There was so much agitation, and actual terror, that the
mischievous author of the trick was obliged to confess at once, and
receive a hearty scolding for the pain he had caused.
Just before sunset of the second day from Gleason's we reached our
home. Everything was _radiant_ with neatness and good order. With the
efficient aid of our good Manaigre and his wife the house had been
white-washed from the roof to the door sill--a thorough scrubbing and
cleansing effected--the carpets unpacked and spread upon the floors,
the furniture arranged, and though last not least, a noble supper
smoked upon the board by the time we had made, once more, a civilized
toilette.
Many of our friends from the fort were there to greet us, and a more
happy or thankful party has seldom been assembled.