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,[115]
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,[116]
"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, but 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 some 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."[117]
The feeling of contempt which some of the army officers entertained
for the militia, extended itself to their subordinates and dependents.
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-kay-ray and
his party, and brought prisoners to General Street at Prairie du
Chien.[118] 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 their tribe.
The canoes had been tied together, and many of them had been upset,
and the children drowned, their mothers being too weak and exhausted
to rescue them. The survivors were taken prisoners, and starving and
miserable, they were brought to Prairie du Chien. Our mother was at the
fort 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.
[Illustration: BLACK HAWK.
(Head-man of the Rock River Sacs.) From oil portrait by R. M. Sully, in
possession of Wisconsin Historical Society.]
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 had been 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 Gen. Scott and Gov. Reynolds at Rock Island, where it was proposed
to hold a treaty for the purchase of all the lands east and south of
the Wisconsin. Messengers were accordingly sent to collect them, 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 that ran through the quarters, Lieut.
Lacy[119] 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! Catherine," 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[BC] extending to the interior of Iowa, and an additional sum of
ten thousand dollars annually.
[Footnote BC: A belt of land termed the Neutral Ground of the different
opposing Nations.]
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-kau (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 other seven accused should appear to redeem him.
It was a work of some little time on the part of the nation to persuade
these 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,[120] 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 North West Division of the Indians.[121]
Instead of calling upon the Agent to take charge of the annuity money,
as had heretofore been the custom, he 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."
[Illustration: FORT WINNEBAGO IN 1834.
(Indian agency buildings on hill to left.) From oil painting, based
upon plans and local traditions, by Isaac A. Ridgway.]
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[122]
in their defence 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-kau, 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
guardroom 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 this, and the kindness he had
received at the fort, his confinement was inexpressibly irksome.
On the morning of a bright autumnal day, notice was given 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,[123] and one or two other officers took
their seats with Mr. Kinzie on the platform in front of the door to
receive them, while we stationed ourselves at the window where we could
both see and hear.
The procession wound up the hill, and then came marching slowly toward
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 chanting. 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
custom 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 crime--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, or 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, the same 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 from the President, as a mark of friendship, 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 child-like 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.