THE VANISHING OF THE RED MAN
The Treaty of Paris of 1783 which closed the Revolutionary War gave
the new nation whose birth it marked the Mississippi River for its
western boundary, and a line through the middle of the Great Lakes
and extended thence to the Mississippi, as its boundary on the north.
Until Wayne's victory over the northwestern tribes in the battle of
Fallen Timbers, in August, 1794, however, the grip of the red man
upon the territory north of the Ohio River was practically unbroken.
Certain treaties had been made, it is true, carrying cessions of land
to the whites in this region,[863] but their validity was contested by
powerful tribes and factions among the Indians, and the tide of white
settlement was still confined to the country closely bordering upon the
Ohio River. By the Treaty of Greenville, a year after his victory over
the Indians, Wayne secured the cession by them to the United States of
about twenty-five thousand square miles of land, comprising roughly the
southern half of the present state of Ohio together with a long and
narrow strip of land in southwestern Indiana.[864] At the same time,
however, the Indian ownership of the remainder of the Northwest, aside
from certain reservations which were specially excepted, was conceded.
The extinguishment of the Indian title, thus formally recognized, to
the soil of the Northwest required two score years of time and the
negotiation of dozens of treaties. Its consummation marked the passing
of the red man from the imperial domain of the old Northwest.
[Footnote 863: See _supra_, pp. 109-10.]
[Footnote 864: For a further account of the terms of the treaty see pp.
124-25.]
From the beginning of his term as governor of Indian Territory,
Harrison pursued the policy of procuring by treaties of cession the
Indian lands. This policy was pressed by him, and later by other
representatives of the national government in the Northwest, at every
suitable opportunity. To the omnipresent land hunger of the whites the
development of the agitation led by Tecumseh, and his brother, the
Prophet, was primarily due. The treaties negotiated by Harrison at Fort
Wayne in September, 1809, by which almost three million acres of land
was conveyed to the whites, especially angered Tecumseh, who threatened
to put to death the chiefs who had signed them.[865] His purpose to
form an Indian Confederacy to stay the farther advances of the whites
and the alienation of the lands belonging to the Indians was boldly
avowed to Harrison at Vincennes in August, 1810. He viewed the policy
pursued by the United States of purchasing the red man's lands as "a
mighty water ready to overflow his people," and the confederacy he was
forming among the tribes to prevent any individual tribe from selling
without the consent of the others was the dam he was erecting to resist
this mighty water.[866]
[Footnote 865: _Supra_, p. 191.]
[Footnote 866: Drake, _Tecumseh_, 129.]
Tecumseh's dam, however, proved ineffectual to accomplish its purpose.
As well might he seek to turn back the waters of the Mississippi as
to stay permanently the westward tide of white settlement. By treaty
after treaty the red man's birthright was pared away, until he had lost
possession of practically all of the old Northwest. The methods pursued
in the negotiation of all these treaties were similar. They will be
sufficiently illustrated in the account of the two Chicago treaties of
1821 and 1833.
About the middle of the year 1804 the Sac Indians murdered
three Americans who had settled above the mouth of the Missouri
River.[867] Governor Harrison journeyed to St. Louis to demand
from the representatives of the tribe to which the murderers
belonged satisfaction for the offense. Advantage was taken of the
situation to obtain from the Sacs and Foxes a cession of lands. By
a treaty concluded November 3, 1804, in return for an insignificant
consideration,[868] the two tribes ceded over fifty million acres of
land in Missouri, Illinois, and Wisconsin to the United States. The
portion of the cession east of the Mississippi included all the land
between that stream and the Illinois River and its tributary, the
Fox, extending northward to a line drawn from the latter stream to a
point on the Wisconsin, thirty-six miles above its mouth. But this
magnificent cession was ultimately to cost the Americans far more than
the paltry sum stipulated in the treaty. Black Hawk and others of his
faction among the Sacs protested that the chiefs who made the cession
had acted without the authorization or knowledge of their people,[869]
and the disputes engendered over the terms of the cession furnished the
principal cause of the Black Hawk War.
[Footnote 867: Dawson, _Harrison_, 58 ff.]
[Footnote 868: Goods to the value of $2234.50 were given to the
Indians, and the payment of an annuity of $1,000 was promised.]
[Footnote 869: Black Hawk, _Life_, 27-28.]
In August, 1816, the Indian title to that portion of the Sac and
Fox cession lying north of a line drawn due west from the southern
extremity of Lake Michigan was revived.[870] At the same time the
United States secured possession of a strip of land lying along
Lake Michigan ten miles north and ten miles south of the mouth of
the Chicago River, and extending thence in a general southwesterly
direction to the Fox and Illinois rivers, so as to give the whites
control of the route by the Chicago River and Portage to the Illinois.
Control over this strip of land was desired to facilitate the building
of the proposed canal. "Of all the Indian treaties ever made, this
will be remembered when all others, with their obligations, are
forgotten."[871] The sectional surveys of the country lying on either
side of the zone included in this cession of 1816 were made at
different times. The section lines were not made to meet each other,
and diagonal offsets along the entire length of the Indian grant
resulted. So long as the present system of land surveys endures, all
sectional maps of this portion of Illinois will be disfigured by the
triangular fractions which resulted from this error in the original
surveys.
[Footnote 870: Treaty of August 24, 1816, _Treaties ... from 1778 to
1837_, 197.]
[Footnote 871: Blanchard, _The Northwest and Chicago_, I, 491.]
The various treaties by which the United States acquired the Indian
title to the land of the Northwest were held at such places as best
suited the convenience of the parties to the transaction. Two notable
ones were concluded at Chicago, the first in 1821, the second twelve
years later. Fortunately for the historian the scenes attending the
negotiation of each of these treaties have been described by witnesses
possessed of unusual narrative skill.
The purpose of the Treaty of 1821 was to secure from the Pottawatomies
a considerable tract of land in southern Michigan extending from
Grand River southward to the northern boundary of Indiana. The United
States Commissioners, Governor Cass and Solomon Sibley, accompanied
by Henry R. Schoolcraft as secretary, left Detroit for Chicago July
3, 1821.[872] The route from Detroit to Chicago usually followed at
this time was the overland trail, which necessitated a journey of
about three hundred miles; the alternative was to go by schooner or
other vessel around the lakes, which entailed a journey twice as long.
Cass's party pursued neither of these routes, however. Partly because
of business on the Wabash, partly from a desire to explore the country,
it was decided to travel in a large canoe by way of the Maumee and
the Wabash rivers to the Ohio and thence to and up the Illinois to
Chicago.[873]
[Footnote 872: Schoolcraft, _Travels in the Central Portions of the
Mississippi Valley_, 15 ff.]
[Footnote 873: _Ibid._, 9.]
Several weeks later the party was at Starved Rock on the Illinois.
Here the canoe was abandoned because of the impossibility of proceeding
farther by water and the journey was continued on horseback. The
last few miles of the way the travelers were almost constantly in
the company of parties of Indians, dressed in their best attire
and decorated with medals, feathers, and silver bands; all, like
Cass's party, were making their way to Chicago to participate in the
negotiations over the treaty.[874] The gaudy and showy dresses of the
Indians, with their spirited manner of riding and the jingling caused
by the striking of their ornaments, created a novel and interesting
scene. Since they were converging upon Chicago from all parts of
an extensive circle of country, the nearer Cass and his associates
approached the more compact the assemblage became, and they found their
cavalcade augmented and the dust, confusion, and noise increased at
every bypath which intersected their way.
[Footnote 874: _Ibid._, 335.]
In all three thousand Indians gathered at Chicago to attend upon the
work of treaty making. To accommodate this assemblage an "open bower"
had been erected on the north side of the river under the guns of the
fort to serve as the council house.[875] At the first formal session
of the council, which occurred on August 17, Cass set forth in a
short speech, the delivery of which was punctuated at every point by
the "hoah," indicative of attention, the object of the government in
calling the red men together. Without in any way indicating their
attitude, the chiefs adjourned for deliberation. Two days later they
were ready with their answer, which was delivered by the Wabash
chieftain, Metea, the greatest orator of the Pottawatomies. With a
mixture of boldness and humility he advanced a number of reasons for
aversion on the part of the red men for making the cession desired,
and concluded with a flat refusal of Cass's proffer. Speech-making in
profusion followed, interspersed with frequent adjournments, in the
course of which day after day passed away. From the point of view of
the Indians there was no reason for hurry. They were being entertained
and fed at the expense of the government, and it was natural that
they should improve the opportunity to the utmost. Not only was the
occasion an enjoyable one, but by assuming a recalcitrant attitude and
prolonging the council a better bargain might be driven.
[Footnote 875: Schoolcraft, _op. cit._, 337 ff.]
Some misapprehensions concerning the terms of a former treaty were
effectually dispelled by the commissioners, the wavering and the
stubborn were won over, and on August 29 the treaty was concluded.[876]
The Ottawa tribe was to receive an annuity of one thousand dollars
forever, while the Pottawatomies were to be paid five thousand dollars
annually for twenty years. On behalf of the Ottawas the government
agreed, also, to expend fifteen hundred dollars annually for ten years
for the support of a blacksmith and a teacher and the promotion of
the arts of civilization. In similar fashion the sum of one thousand
dollars was to be expended annually for fifteen years for the
maintenance of a teacher and a blacksmith among the Pottawatomies.
[Footnote 876: For it see _Treaties ... from 1778 to 1837_ 297 ff.]
The foregoing provisions were of general application. The treaty
contained in addition a list of special reservations of tracts of land
which were granted to individuals, usually of mixed descent. The story
of the influences responsible for these provisions of the treaty afford
a view of the methods by which the terms of such cessions in the Indian
treaties of this period were ordinarily devised. The provisions for
supporting the work of instructing and civilizing the Indians were due
to the exertions of Rev. Isaac McCoy, the founder of Carey's Mission
among the Pottawatomies, near the modern city of Niles. Unable himself
to come to Chicago, he sent a representative to urge upon both the
commissioners for the United States and the Indians the recognition of
his project for establishing a mission among the latter.[877] Of more
importance, he enlisted the support of Colonel William A. Trimble,
who had recently resigned his office in the army and become a United
States senator from Ohio. On his way to Chicago to attend the council
he stopped at Carey's, and having listened to McCoy's unfolding of
his plans and his need of aid to realize them, promised to exert his
influence in the missionary's behalf at Chicago. Largely because of
this championship, apparently, the provisions already recounted for the
support of blacksmiths and teachers among the tribes involved in the
cession were made. Shortly afterward McCoy received the appointment as
teacher of the Pottawatomies, and his associate, Mr. John Sears, the
similar appointment among the Ottawas, while the selection and control
of the blacksmiths was also confided to McCoy.[878]
[Footnote 877: McCoy, _History of Baptist Indian Missions_, 113.]
[Footnote 878: Cass to McCoy, July 16, 1822, _ibid._, 145 ff.]
"To bring about such an arrangement as this," wrote McCoy, "had cost
us much labor, watchfulness, and anxiety. Others, in their intercourse
with the Indians, had money and goods with which to purchase their
consent to measures to which they otherwise felt disinclined; but we
had neither money nor consciences that could be thus used."[879] The
significance of this statement becomes evident upon examination of the
list of special reservations provided for by the treaty. The traders
and their half-breed families and their descendants, shrewder and
more influential than the full-blooded Indians, provided for their
future welfare by procuring the reservation to themselves of generous
tracts of land. That these special grants of land were obtained by
the use of improper methods and influences, as McCoy has charged, can
scarcely be doubted.[880] One of the witnesses to the treaty was Jean
Baptiste Beaubien, the Chicago trader. It can hardly be deemed a mere
coincidence that among the grants to individuals are included one
half-section of land to each of his sons, Charles and Madore, by his
Ottawa squaw, Mahnawbunnoquah, who had by this time been dead for many
years. To the chieftain Peeresh, or Pierre Moran, who guided Cass's
party from Starved Rock to Chicago,[881] and whose racial affiliations
are sufficiently indicated by his name, was granted one section of
land at the mouth of the Elkhart River, while two more sections were
reserved for his children. "To William Knaggs, or Waseskukson, son
of Chesqua, one-half of a section of land," reads another clause of
the treaty. Reference to the list of witnesses who signed it reveals
the name of "W. Knaggs, Indian Agent," and this individual acted as
interpreter during the negotiation of the treaty.[882] Pierre Le Clerc,
or Le Claire, the half-breed who had assisted in negotiating the
surrender of the defeated Fort Dearborn garrison in August, 1812, now
received a section of land on the Elkhart, and his brother, Jean B. Le
Clerc, half as much. Another participant in the Fort Dearborn massacre,
Jean Baptiste Chandonnai, whose activities as a trader at Chicago and
elsewhere have already received our attention,[883] was granted two
sections of land.
[Footnote 879: McCoy, _op. cit._, 113-14.]
[Footnote 880: The policy of bribing the leaders among the Indians was
deliberately adopted by the agents of the government, including such
men even as Lewis Cass. On January 1, 1821, Alexander Wolcott, the
Chicago agent, thus addressed Cass relative to the contemplated Indian
treaty and the expenses of his agency for the ensuing year: "To induce
the Pottawatomies to sell their lands, particularly the district of
Saint Joseph's to which they are much attached it will be requisite to
bribe their chief men by very considerable presents and promises; and
that should be done, in part at least, before the period of treating
arrives, so that time may be given for its effects to spread through
the body of the nation In short, it appears to me that a small portion
of the sum appropriated to the treaty can be disposed of in the best
and most efficient manner in conciliating and securing before hand the
principal men of the nation" (Indian Department, Cass Correspondence,
Wolcott to Cass, Jan. 1, 1821). Cass in reply expressed his approval of
the proposal.]
[Footnote 881: Schoolcraft, _op. cit._, 321.]
[Footnote 882: _Ibid._, 365.]
[Footnote 883: _Supra_, p. 277.]
Among the most highly favored recipients of special grants by this
treaty were the traders Burnett and Bertrand, and their families.
Burnett had married KawKeemee, the sister of the Pottawatomie
chieftain, Topinabee, and Bertrand had also married a squaw. The
success of these families in securing special favors for themselves
from the Indians and the government is evidenced by the recurrence of
their names in many treaties. Both Burnett and Bertrand were present
at Chicago and exerted their influence in support of the commissioners
at a critical stage in the negotiations.[884] John Burnett received by
the treaty two sections of land, and four of his children one section
each, near the mouth of the St. Joseph River. To the wife of Bertrand
was given one section of land, and to each of her five children one
half-section. To John La Lime, son of Nokenoqua, a half-section of
land was granted. Presumably he was the son of the Fort Dearborn
interpreter slain by John Kinzie in 1812. The latter was now sub-Indian
agent, and assisting in the negotiation of the treaty. Whose influence
was responsible for the special grant to young La Lime can only be
conjectured.
[Footnote 884: Schoolcraft, _op. cit._, 352-53.]
The fatal love for liquor which was working the ruin of the Indians
was significantly manifested during the course of the negotiations
over this treaty. To their honor the commissioners determined not
to supply the Indians with liquor until the negotiations should be
concluded. This did not meet the approval of the latter, however,
and in his speech of August 22 Metea gave expression to their
dissatisfaction.[885] Cass answered him with a spirited rebuke,
repelling the implication of parsimony and showing that the liquor
had been denied the Indians out of regard for their own welfare, that
they might be able to keep sober and protect their interests in the
negotiations. He concluded by painting the baneful influence of whisky
upon them, and appealing to them to wait, if they were determined to
drink, until a proper time. The rebuke was effective in quieting their
importunities upon the subject until the negotiations were concluded a
week later. Then their pent-up thirst for the liquor, which they had
stipulated should accompany the distribution of goods, overcame their
power of self-control. The aged Topinabee pleaded with Cass for the
"milk" he had brought for them, but was told that the goods were not
yet ready to be issued. "We care not for the land, the money, or the
goods," he rejoined; "it is the whisky we want--give us the whisky."
The whisky was shortly provided, and within twenty-four hours ten
shocking murders had been committed.[886]
[Footnote 885: _Ibid._, 350.]
[Footnote 886: Schoolcraft, _op. cit._, 387-88; McCoy, _op. cit._, 116,
146-47.]
The in-rush of white settlers which followed the close of the Black
Hawk War made necessary the early removal of the Indians from northern
Illinois. The Pottawatomies and allied tribes still held title to a
large tract of land between Lake Michigan and Rock River and extending
northward from the line drawn due west through the southernmost point
of Lake Michigan. With a view to securing the cession of this land and
the removal of its owners to some point west of the Mississippi, the
last and greatest Indian council ever held at Chicago was convened
in September, 1833. It was meet that every warrior of the tribes
concerned in the proposed negotiation should attend the grand pow
wow, bringing his squaws, papooses, ponies, and dogs with him, and
accordingly several thousand Indians assembled.[887] From far and near,
too, gathered "birds of passage" of the white race, representing every
gradation of character from rascality to respectability.
[Footnote 887: Latrobe (_Rambler in North America_, II, 201) says the
number was estimated at five thousand. Shirreff says (_Tour through
North America_, 227) "it was supposed nearly 8,000 Indians were
assembled." Porter says (_Earliest Religious History of Chicago_, 71)
that on the appointed day "Indians began to pour in by thousands." All
three writers were in Chicago while the treaty was being negotiated.]
The Chicago of September, 1833, was "a mush-room" village of a few
score houses.[888] Most of them had been hastily erected since the
preceding spring and were small and unsubstantial.[889] "Frame and
clapboard houses were springing up daily," wrote Latrobe, the English
traveler, who visited Chicago while the council was in progress,
"under the active axes and hammers of the speculators, and piles
of lumber announced the preparation for yet other edifices of an
equally light character."[890] The one business street of the place
was South Water Street, along which a row of one-story log houses
sprawled westward from the reservation, its monotony only slightly
broken by the two or three frame stores which the village at this time
boasted.[891] The unwonted concourse of visitors in attendance upon
the treaty taxed the accommodations of the place to the utmost. There
were "traders by scores and hangers-on by hundreds."[892] According
to one observer, a stranger to America, a "general fair" and "a kind
of horse market" seemed to be in progress.[893] Large wagons drawn by
six or eight oxen and heavily loaded with merchandise were arriving
and departing. In the picturesque language of Latrobe there were
"emigrants and land speculators numerous as the sand, horse dealers and
horse-stealers--rogues of every description, white, black, brown, and
red---half-breeds, quarter-breeds, and men of no breed at all; dealers
in pigs, poultry, and potatoes; men pursuing Indian claims, some for
tracts of land, others for pigs which the wolves had eaten;--creditors
of the tribes, or of particular Indians, who know they have no chance
of getting their money if they do not get it from the government
agents; sharpers of every degree; peddlers, grogsellers; Indian agents
and Indian traders of every description, and Contractors to supply the
Pottawatomies with food."[894]
[Footnote 888: Shirreff (_op. cit._, 226) gives the number of houses as
about one hundred and fifty. Latrobe (_op. cit._, II, 206) speaks of
"the half a hundred clapboard houses."]
[Footnote 889: Latrobe, _op. cit._, II, 206; Hoffman, _Winter in the
West_, I, 199, 202; letter of Charles Butler in Andreas, _History of
Chicago_, I, 129-30.]
[Footnote 890: Latrobe, _op. cit._, II, 209.]
[Footnote 891: Porter, _Earliest Religious History of Chicago_, 70.]
[Footnote 892: _Ibid._, 71.]
[Footnote 893: Shirreff, _op. cit._, 228.]
[Footnote 894: Latrobe, _op. cit._, II, 206.]
The few primitive hotels were, of course, utterly unable to accommodate
comfortably the crowds of strangers who clamored for board and
lodging. Latrobe characterizes his hotel, which was, apparently, the
Sauganash, kept by Mark Beaubien, as "a vile, two-storied barrack,"
within which "all was in a state of most appalling confusion, filth
and racket."[895] The public table was such a scene of confusion that
the traveler felt compelled to avoid it. The French landlord was "a
sporting character" and "everything was left to chance, who in the
shape of a fat housekeeper, fumed and toiled around the premises from
morning to night."
[Footnote 895: _Ibid._, II, 209.]
The character of the impression which the traveler forms is determined
as much by his standard of judgment as by the conditions he actually
encounters. Latrobe was a cultivated English gentleman, habituated to
another manner of life than that which prevailed upon the American
frontier. The picture drawn by Shirreff, himself a sturdy farmer,
of Chicago's inns in September, 1833, is perhaps fairer than that
of Latrobe; yet even when measured by his more lenient standards
the conditions described seem crude enough.[896] His hotel was so
disagreeably crowded that the landlord could not positively promise a
bed, although he would do his best to accommodate his guests. His house
was "dirty in the extreme, and confusion reigned throughout," but the
traveler temperately observes that the extraordinary circumstances of
the village went far to extenuate this. The table was amply supplied
with substantial provisions, although they were indifferently cooked
and served "still more so." At bedtime the guest was assigned to a
dirty pallet in the corner of a room ten feet square which contained
two small beds already occupied. But he was not to enjoy even this poor
retreat without molestation. Toward morning he was aroused from a sound
sleep by "an angry voice uttering horrid imprecations," accompanied
by a demand to share the bed. The lighted candle in the hands of the
speaker showed that the intruders were French traders. Shirreff checked
their torrent of profanity with a dignified rebuke, which caused them
to withdraw from the room, leaving him in undisturbed possession of the
bed.
[Footnote 896: Shirreff, _op. cit._, 228-29.]
The thousands of savages congregated to barter away their birthright
presented an extraordinary spectacle.[897] Although several different
tribes were represented, their dress and appearance depended upon
individual caprice and the means of gratifying it, rather than upon
tribal customs and distinctions. Those who possessed the means
generally attired themselves in fantastic fashion and gaudy colors.
As a rule the warriors were attired more gaily and were more given to
dandyism than were the squaws. All of the men, except a few of the very
poorest, wore breechclouts and blankets. Most of them added to these
articles leggings of various colors and degrees of ornamentation; while
those who were able disported themselves in loosely flowing jackets,
rich sashes, and gaudy shawl or handkerchief turbans. The squaws wore
blue or printed cotton cloths and the richer ones had embroidered
petticoats and shawls. The various articles of clothing of both men and
women were covered with gewgaws of silver and brass, glass beads, and
mirrors, such as had from time immemorial been supplied to the Indians
by the traders. The women wore ornaments in their ears and occasionally
in their noses, while the faces of both sexes were bedaubed with paint,
blue, black, white, and vermilion, applied according to more or less
fanciful designs.
[Footnote 897: For the picture that follows I have drawn on the works
of Latrobe, Shirreff, and Porter, already cited.]
On every hand the camps of the natives were to be seen. The woodlands
and prairies surrounding the village, and the sand hills along the
lake shore, were studded with their wigwams, while herds of ponies
browsed in all directions. Along the river were many groups of tents,
constructed of coarse canvas, blankets, and mats, surrounded by poles
supporting meat, moccasins, and rags. The confined area within was
often covered with half-rotten mats or shavings, over which men, women,
children, and baggage sprawled promiscuously.
The treaty-making offered to the red man an opportunity of indulging
in an extended carousal. Supplied with food by the commissioners and
with liquid refreshment by the traders, for the present his cup of
contentment overflowed. Gossiping, gambling, racing, and loafing were
the order of the day. "Far and wide the grassy Prairie teemed with
figures; warriors, mounted or on foot, squaws, and horses. Here a race
between three or four Indian ponies each carrying a double rider,
whooping and yelling like fiends. There a solitary horseman with a long
spear, turbaned like an Arab, scouring along at full speed; groups of
hobbled horses; Indian dogs and children, or a grave conclave of grey
chiefs seated on the grass in consultation."[898]
[Footnote 898: Latrobe, _op. cit._, II, 210.]
Of one of these "grave conclaves" a story has been handed down which
smacks strongly of the age of chivalry.[899] Two finely built young
men who were the best of friends, the sons of two chiefs, Seebwasen
and Sanguanauneebee, were courting the same young squaw, the daughter
of Wampum, a Chippewa chief from Sheboygan. The lovers had proposed to
decide the question as to which should possess the girl by fighting a
duel. Their fathers had submitted this proposition to a council for
decision. The result of the weighty deliberation was that the youths
should fight to the death, the survivor to take the girl. They were
brought before their elders and informed of this decision. Their ponies
were brought forth, their manes and tails were decked with ribbons,
and the saddles and the duelists themselves with beads, brooches, and
other ornaments. After the ponies had been driven once or twice around
the council place, the duelists and their friends set out for the place
of encounter, swimming their horses across the river, and drew up at
an open spot on the north side. Crude flags attached to poles stuck up
in the sand gave notice that a fight to the death was impending, while
guards were placed to clear a ring for the encounter. Outside the ring,
alone, her arms akimbo and her attitude one of indifference, stood the
girl over whom the duel was to be waged. The time was an hour before
sundown, and four or five hundred spectators, Indians and white men,
were gathered around.
[Footnote 899: For it see _Wisconsin Historical Collections_, XV,
460-63. The story as at present preserved was told to the secretary of
the Wisconsin Historical Society by the son of the Milwaukee trader,
Jacques Vieau, who attended the negotiation of the treaty.]
One of the duelists wheeled to the right and the other to the left.
Then their horses were brought sideways together, head to tail and tail
to head. As the signal was given each fighter drew his long-bladed
knife. A hubbub arose among the spectators as they clashed, the squaws
rending the air with their cries. Thrust followed upon thrust, the
blood spurting forth as each blow was given. The bloody work could not
continue long, of course. Soon Sanguanauneebee's son cried out in his
death agony and toppled over backward, his arm raised for a blow, his
opponent's knife in his spine. A moment later Seebwasen's son fell over
and died. The girl, bereft of both her lovers, at last manifested some
concern, and wrung her hands in frenzy. The assemblage dispersed and
the primitive tragedy was ended.
It is painfully evident from a study of the treaty and of the
descriptions of the scenes attending its negotiation which have come
down to us, that the public sentiment of the frontier had become
demoralized by the opportunities for dishonest gain afforded by the
cession of the lands belonging to the red man. Unscrupulous individuals
were never lacking to take advantage of these opportunities, and
others, who under a proper system of administration of affairs
pertaining to the Indians would have scorned corrupt practices,
permitted their honesty to be undermined by the influence of the
example of their fellows in the mad scramble for plunder. The Treaty of
1833 afforded the last, and at the same time the greatest, opportunity
at Chicago for individuals to enrich themselves at the expense of the
Indians or of the government of the United States. Since both the red
man and the government submitted meekly to the process, a carnival of
greed and graft ensued.
A set of temporary plank huts had been erected on the north side
of the river for the accommodation of the commissioners and their
dependents, and a "spacious open shed" had been constructed, also on
the north side, to serve as the council house.[900] The commissioners
were Governor George B. Porter of Michigan, Thomas J. V. Owen,
Indian agent at Chicago, and William Weatherford. About the middle
of September they assembled the chiefs in a preliminary council and
Governor Porter explained the purpose of the assembly, urging upon
them the wisdom of acceding to the government's wishes. The chiefs
received the proposal without enthusiasm, disclaiming any desire to
part with their lands. The request that they return a prompt answer to
the government was negatived with equal decision. The next day they
indulged in a "begging dance" through the streets of the town. Half
a hundred painted Indians on horseback followed some thirty naked
savages on foot, as they danced, whooped, and shouted from the fort
down South Water Street, stopping before each door to receive whisky,
tobacco, or bread. To the pioneer minister of the gospel who reports
the scene they appeared like the very incarnation of evil. Several
days passed. In vain the signal gun from the fort boomed out its daily
notice of the assemblage of the council, for the chiefs would not
assemble. At length, on the afternoon of September 21 they were induced
to come together. The council fire was kindled and the commissioners
and interpreters gathered at one end of the chamber, while twenty or
thirty chieftains occupied the other. The relative positions of the
groups of white and red men representing the two races seemed to typify
their relation to each other: "The glorious light of the setting sun
streaming in under the low roof of the council-house, fell full on the
countenances of the former as they faced the West--while the pale light
of the East hardly lighted up the dark and painted lineaments of the
poor Indians whose souls evidently clave to their birthright in that
quarter."[901]
[Footnote 900: For the further account of the negotiations I have drawn
upon the works of Latrobe, Shirreff, and Porter, as before; chiefly,
however, upon Latrobe.]
[Footnote 901: Latrobe, _op. cit._, II, 214.]
For a few days longer the Indians refused the proffered terms. At
length, urged by the agents and traders, the chiefs one after another
submitted to the inevitable, until, on September 26, the treaty
was concluded. The real significance of the submission cannot be
better stated than in the words of the talented Latrobe, who was a
keen-sighted spectator of the proceedings. "The business of arranging
the terms of an Indian Treaty," he observed, "lies chiefly between the
various traders, agents, creditors, and half-breeds of the tribes, on
whom custom and necessity have made the degraded chiefs dependant,
and the Government Agents. When the former have seen matters so far
arranged that their self-interest, and various schemes and claims are
likely to be fulfilled and allowed to their heart's content--the silent
acquiescence of the Indian follows of course; and till this is the case
the Treaty can never be amicably effected."[902]
[Footnote 902: _Ibid._, II, 215. An editorial in the first number
of the first newspaper published in Chicago, commenting on the
difficulties encountered by the commissioners in the early stages of
the negotiations, says: "The various and clashing interests of the
Traders were powerfully operating, and altogether seemed, for some
days, to render doubtful the accomplishment of this great and vastly
important object" (_Chicago Weekly Democrat_, November 26, 1833).]
The treaty[903] provided that the Pottawatomies and allied tribes
should cede their lands to the west of Lake Michigan and their
remaining reservation in southwestern Michigan, supposed to contain
about five million acres, to the United States, and within three
years' time remove beyond the Mississippi River. In return they were
to receive five million acres of land in the West for their new home;
the United States was to transport them thither and pay the cost of
their support for one year after their arrival; and the expenditure
in their behalf of sums of money aggregating almost a million dollars
was agreed upon. These provisions were regarded as very liberal on the
part of the United States.[904] In comparison with similar treaties
of the time this view was doubtless justified; but an examination
of the disposition of the money which the United States was to pay
confirms Latrobe's account of the influence by which the terms of
the treaty were shaped. Except for a few minor bequests the entire
sum appropriated was devoted to six principal purposes which fall
naturally into two groups of three each. The sum of three hundred
and twenty thousand dollars was devoted to the payment for twenty
years of an annuity of sixteen thousand dollars. For the erection of
mills, blacksmith shops, and houses, the employment of physicians,
blacksmiths, and mechanics, and the promotion of civilization
generally, one hundred and fifty thousand dollars were set aside; while
the sum of seventy thousand dollars was devoted to educational purposes
and the encouragement of the domestic arts.
[Footnote 903: For it see _U.S. Statutes at Large_, VII, 431 ff.]
[Footnote 904: Porter, _op. cit._, 72.]
This group of provisions, which were calculated to redound to the
advantage of the red man, requires no discussion. The second group,
from which he derived little or no advantage, calls for extended
consideration. It was agreed that goods and provisions to the value
of one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars should be distributed
to the Indians, one portion at the conclusion of the negotiations,
the residue during the ensuing year. The sum of one hundred and ten
thousand dollars was devoted to the satisfaction of "sundry individuals
in behalf of whom reservations were asked, which the Commissioners
refused to grant." A list of the persons thus favored, together with
the amount granted to each, was appended to the treaty as Schedule
A. Finally, provision was made for the payment of one hundred and
seventy-five thousand dollars to various individuals to satisfy claims
made by them against the tribes concerned in the treaty, "which they
have admitted to be justly due." The list of claimants with the amount
allowed in each case constituted Schedule B of the treaty.
It was in connection with the contents of Schedules A and B that the
most striking display of greed and dishonesty occurred. Judged by the
standards of the time, some of the requests for reservations were
doubtless proper; measured by the same standards, too, some of the
claims advanced were probably valid; yet there is no room to doubt
that a large proportion of the grants to individuals under these two
heads were improperly made. "It was an apportionment," remarks Andreas
of the one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars granted under
Schedule B, "of the ready money of the tribes among all the whites who
could bring a claim against an Indian. The honest debtor and the unjust
and dishonest claimant absorbed the fund. How large a portion of it
represented robbery, theft, and perjury will never be known until the
great book is opened at the last day."[905]
[Footnote 905: Andreas, _History of Chicago_, I, 126-27.]
Doubtless this is true, yet the impropriety of many of the claims
allowed is patent even today. The story of "Snipe" and his claim for
pay for hogs which the wolves had eaten is probably fairly typical of
the groundlessness of most of these claims. "Snipe," whose real name,
unfortunately, has not been recorded, was a farmer from the St. Joseph
country, who came to Chicago in the same stage which brought Latrobe
and Shirreff, to prosecute a claim against the Indians, which on his
own statement of the case was improper.[906] He had intended to make
a great deal of pork that season, but upon collecting his hogs from
the woods, where they had run for five months, he could number only
thirty-five instead of fifty-five. The Indians had been hunting hogs,
he stated, and he expected the government agents to allow his claim for
the twenty which were missing.
[Footnote 906: For the story of "Snipe" see Latrobe, _op. cit._, II,
188-89; Shirreff, _op. cit._, 220.]
Due provision was, of course, made for the influential chiefs, who
were frequently half-breeds, and either themselves engaged in the
Indian trade or the descendants of traders. To Billy Caldwell and
Alexander Robinson life annuities of four hundred and three hundred
dollars respectively were granted. In addition, each was to be given
ten thousand dollars, although before payment this sum was cut in
half in each case. Besides these provisions Caldwell's children were
granted six hundred dollars, and the children of Robinson four hundred.
Pokagon, the St. Joseph River chieftain, received two thousand dollars.
The families of Burnett and Bertrand, the St. Joseph traders, were
well provided for. The various members of the latter family alone
received grants aggregating thirty-nine hundred dollars. Jean Baptiste
Chandonnai received one thousand dollars under schedule A, and two
thousand five hundred under Schedule B. Joseph La Framboise, a Chicago
half-breed who ranked as chief, was the recipient of numerous favors.
By the Chicago Treaty of 1821 he had been granted a section of land.
Now, aside from a life annuity of two hundred dollars, he received one
grant of three thousand dollars and he and his children another of one
thousand. Numerous other bequests were made to individuals bearing the
name of La Framboise, whose precise relation to Chief Joseph it does
not seem worth while to attempt to determine.
Another pioneer Chicagoan whose Indian affiliations now proved valuable
to him was Antoine Ouilmette. By the Treaty of Prairie du Chien
of July, 1829, he had been given eight hundred dollars for losses
sustained at the time of the Chicago massacre, and by the same treaty
his wife and children were granted two sections of land a few miles
north of Chicago.[907] Now he again received the sum of eight hundred
dollars. Whether this was in payment of the same damages already
recompensed by the Treaty of Prairie du Chien is not recorded, but in
view of the identity of the sums involved, and the way in which the
claims of others against the Indians which had long since been settled
were repaid at this treaty, the supposition that such was the case does
not seem at all improbable. To one daughter, Mrs. Mann, was given one
thousand dollars and to another, Mrs. Welch, two hundred dollars; a
third daughter, Josette, also received two hundred dollars, although
this was probably at the instigation of John H. Kinzie. Finally, still
another allowance of two hundred dollars was made to Ouilmette's
"children."
[Footnote 907: _U.S. Statutes at Large_, VII, 321, 604.]
Since the identity of "Snipe" is unknown, it is not possible to say
whether his effort to secure compensation for his hogs "which the
wolves had eaten" was successful. That a large number of traders and
other persons were influential enough to gain more than generous
recognition at the hands of the commissioners, however, is quite
apparent from a study of Schedules A and B. Thus Jean Baptiste Beaubien
obtained recognition on more than one count. His sons, Madore and
Charles, were granted three hundred dollars each under Schedule A. His
wife, Josette, received five hundred dollars under the same schedule,
and her children, of whom, presumably, he was the father, received one
thousand dollars. In addition to these grants, both Madore and his
father received sums of money in payment of claims against the Indians.
But few of the traders who shared in the distribution of the public
funds can receive individual mention. The disappointment of James
Kinzie over the denial of his request for a reservation might be
supposed to have been measurably assuaged by the five thousand dollars
granted him in lieu thereof. Since Kinzie was of pure American descent,
it is difficult to justify this grant on any ground of recognized
propriety. The same may be said of the aspiration of Robert A. Forsyth
for a reservation, which he was forced to forego for the more paltry
donation of three thousand dollars. A claim which he preferred for the
same amount under Schedule B was allowed, however, as well as another
claim for thirteen hundred dollars, and in addition to all this he was
made trustee of grants to various individuals amounting to many hundred
dollars more.
It can hardly be regarded as a mere coincidence that the names of
many of those who signed the treaty as witnesses on behalf of the
United States should be enrolled in the list of beneficiaries under
it. Thus, of those already mentioned, Robert Forsyth, James Kinzie,
and Jean Baptiste Beaubien were witnesses of the treaty. William Ewing
was secretary of the commission, and to him and G. W. Ewing a claim
of five thousand dollars was allowed. Luther Rice and James Connor
acted as interpreters. Rice received two thousand five hundred dollars
under Schedule A, while various sums were granted to individuals
bearing the name of Rice, whose relation to the interpreter there is
now no means of determining. Connor was allowed a claim of twenty-two
hundred and fifty dollars; and in conjunction with another man of the
same name received seven hundred dollars under Schedule A. Thomas
Forsyth witnessed the treaty and was allowed payment of a claim of
fifteen hundred dollars. "J. C. Schwarz Adj.M.M." likewise witnessed
the treaty, and "John C. Schwarz," who was doubtless the same person,
received forty-eight hundred dollars by it. In like manner "Laurie
Marsh" signed the treaty and a claim of "Lowrian Marsh" for thirty-two
hundred and ninety dollars was recognized by it. George Hunt, another
witness, who had been engaged in the Indian trade at Chicago a short
time before, was given nine hundred dollars in satisfaction of a
claim and seven hundred and fifty dollars in lieu of a reservation
which he had requested. B. B. Kercheval, still another signer of
the treaty, secured fifteen hundred dollars. Gholson Kercheval, who
was the sub-Indian agent at Chicago, was one of the few witnesses,
aside from the commissioners and the officers of the garrison, who
received nothing from it. A year later, however, October 1, 1834, by an
amendatory treaty signed at Chicago by a small number of chiefs he was
granted two thousand dollars for services rendered the Indians in the
Black Hawk War.[908]
[Footnote 908: _U. S. Statutes at Large_, VII, 447.]
It is, of course, conceivable that this payment was a proper one,
even though the propriety of requiring the friendly Pottawatomies
to pay for the services of the captain of the Chicago militia
company in the Black Hawk War is not at this late day apparent.
The largest single beneficiary by the treaty under Schedule B was
the American Fur Company. Robert Stuart had come on from Mackinac
to attend the negotiations and look out for the interests of his
company in connection therewith.[909] Of the success of his mission
some indication is afforded by the fact that over one-tenth of the
total sum of one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars awarded
to individuals in payment of claims against the Indians went to the
American Fur Company.[910] In addition to this, of the sum allotted to
Jean Baptiste Chandonnai under Schedule A, one thousand dollars were,
by his "particular request," to be paid to Robert Stuart, agent of the
American Fur Company. While engaged in the Indian trade at Chicago
fourteen years before, Chandonnai had received goods from the American
Fur Company on credit, for which he afterward refused to pay. A part of
the debt thus repudiated had been secured through Kinzie's influence.
Apparently advantage was now taken of the opportunity presented by the
cession of the Pottawatomie lands to secure payment of the remainder,
ostensibly from the Indians but in reality from the government. The
impropriety of requiring either party to pay the debts of Chandonnai
is self-evident. Notwithstanding his "particular request," Chandonnai
evidently could not be trusted himself to pay the debt, with the money
of the government given into his possession, and so it was arranged
it should pass directly from the agent of the United States to the
American Fur Company.
[Footnote 909: Stuart was among those who signed the treaty. For his
attendance upon it see Porter, _op. cit._, 72; also Porter (Mary),
Eliza Chappell Porter, 100.]
[Footnote 910: Robert Stuart, as agent of the company, received
seventeen thousand dollars, and James Abbott, also on behalf of the
company, twenty-three hundred dollars.]
The dubious character of the claims presented and allowed at this
treaty is still further exemplified by the role played in it by
the heirs of John Kinzie. Both of his sons, John H. and Robert A.
Kinzie, attended the negotiation and signed the treaty as witnesses.
The latter was at the time proprietor of a trading establishment at
Chicago. John H. Kinzie, the elder brother, had a wide acquaintance
throughout the Northwest, with the Indians and whites alike. He had
been at different times in the employ of Robert Stuart of the American
Fur Company, secretary to Governor Cass, and sub-Indian agent at Fort
Winnebago.[911] He had recently resigned the latter position, laid out
the land pre-empted by the family into town lots, and thrown in his
fortune with that of the nascent Chicago. The interests of the Kinzie
heirs, therefore, were advocated by influential spokesmen. Even the
welfare of numerous half-breed dependents of the family was provided
for. To the old family servant of John Kinzie, Victoire Porthier,[912]
and her children, the sum of seven hundred dollars was given under
Schedule A. Her brothers, Jean Baptiste and Thomas Mirandeau, and
her sisters, Jane and Rosetta, received among them the sum of twelve
hundred dollars with the provision that John H. Kinzie should act as
trustee of the fund. Thomas is the "Tomah" of _Wau Bun_, the lad who
had been taken by Kinzie to Fort Winnebago the preceding winter to
become a member of his household.[913] That Jean Baptiste had also been
a servant of the Kinzies at Chicago is stated by the author of _Wau
Bun_.[914] Another member of John Kinzie's household for whom a grant
of money was secured was Josette, the daughter of Antoine Ouilmette.
Like "Tomah" she was a mere child.[915] She had been a member of
Kinzie's household since the spring of 1831. She was granted two
hundred dollars and Kinzie was appointed trustee of the fund.
[Footnote 911: A sketch of Kinzie's career written by his widow is
printed in Andreas, _op. cit._, I, 97-99.]
[Footnote 912: For her connection with Kinzie see _ibid._, I, 105.]
[Footnote 913: Andreas, _op. cit._, I, 105; Kinzie, _Wau Bun_, 376.]
[Footnote 914: Kinzie, _Wau Bun_, 376.]
[Footnote 915: She was ten years old in 1831 (_ibid._, 233).]
Of the one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars paid out under
Schedule B, over one-eighth was given to the four sons and daughters
of John Kinzie and to his stepdaughter, Mrs. Helm. To the latter
the sum of two thousand dollars was granted, while twenty thousand
dollars were divided in equal portions among the former. In addition
to all this, a second claim of Robert A. Kinzie for twelve hundred and
sixteen dollars was allowed. Although there is no record in the treaty
of the grounds on which the various demands presented were based,
the improper character of these claims seems obvious. Whatever the
basis of the smaller claim of Robert Kinzie may have been, the twenty
thousand dollars apportioned in equal amounts among the four brothers
and sisters must have been claimed by virtue of some inheritance from
the father. The facts that two of the claimants were women, who of
course had never engaged in the Indian trade, and each of whom had been
for some years the wife of a government official; that the claims of
all were equal in amount; and that Robert Kinzie presented a second
claim, which was allowed, all point to this conclusion. A claim for
damages at the hands of the Indians inherited from John Kinzie must
necessarily have been based on the losses he sustained in connection
with the Chicago massacre. The losses of Kinzie and Forsyth at that
time had been severe, and Forsyth at least had made strenuous efforts
to obtain compensation from Congress for them.[916] Whatever ground
there may have been for compensation from this source, there was none
whatever for claiming it from the Indians in connection with the
cession of their lands. The losses sustained were due to acts of war,
for which, at the close of the War of 1812 mutual forgiveness and
oblivion had been pledged in the treaties between the United States and
the various northwestern tribes.[917] John Kinzie lived until 1828,
and was for several years interpreter and sub-Indian agent at Chicago.
He assisted in negotiating various treaties,[918] yet notwithstanding
ample opportunity he apparently made no effort to secure compensation
from the Indians for his losses. In the space of a few months after his
death, however, his family twice secured from the government, through
the medium of an Indian treaty, the sum of thirty-five hundred dollars.
By the treaty with the St. Joseph River Pottawatomies negotiated at
Carey's Mission in September, 1828, Robert Forsyth was granted the sum
of twelve hundred and fifty dollars and the widow and heirs of John
Kinzie thirty-five hundred. The allowance to the latter, it was stated,
was "in consideration of the attachment of the Indians to her deceased
husband, who was long an Indian trader, and who lost a large sum in the
trade by the credits given to them and also by the destruction of his
property."[919] It was further explained that this money was in lieu of
a tract of land which the Indians gave to John Kinzie, and upon which
he lived.
[Footnote 916: See, _e.g._, his letters to the Secretary of War in
_Wisconsin Historical Collections_, XI, 351-55; also his letters to
Captain Heald, January 2 and April 10, 1813, _supra_, notes 613 and
632.]
[Footnote 917: See, _e.g._, the Treaty of Portage des Sioux, July 2,
1815, with the Illinois River Pottawatomies. Article I provides that
"every injury or act of hostility by one or either of the contracting
parties against the other shall be mutually forgiven and forgot." About
a dozen treaties concluded at this time with the various tribes contain
this same provision _American State Papers, Indian Affairs_, II, 2 ff.]
[Footnote 918: Treaty with the Wyandots and other tribes concluded at
St. Mary's, September 17, 1818; treaty with the Delawares at the same
place, October 3, 1818; treaty with the Miamis October 6, 1818; treaty
with the Pottawatomies at Chicago in 1821.]
[Footnote 919: For the treaty see U.S. Statutes at Large, VII, 317-19.
For the schedule of sums granted to individuals see _ibid._, 603-4.]
It is unnecessary to speculate upon the question of the location
of this land, for the Indians were powerless to alienate their
land to individuals, a fact which was, of course, well known to
the commissioners who negotiated the treaty. It is worth noting,
however, that two of the signers of the treaty were Alexander Wolcott,
son-in-law of Kinzie, and Robert Forsyth, the beneficiary of the
smaller grant. Less than a year later, at the treaty concluded at
Prairie du Chien with the Ottawas, Pottawatomies, and Chippewas,
in July, 1829, the heirs of Kinzie again claimed and received the
sum of thirty-five hundred dollars. The claim this time was "for
depredations committed on him [Kinzie] by the Indians at the time of
the massacre of Chicago and at St. Joseph's, during the winter of
1812."[920] The treaty stipulated that the sums paid to claimants
were "in full satisfaction" of the claims brought by them against
the Indians. Alexander Wolcott assisted in negotiating this treaty
also, and both he and his brother-in-law, John H. Kinzie, signed it.
Thus in 1829 the heirs of Kinzie obtained "full satisfaction" from
the Pottawatomies and allied tribes for the losses sustained in 1812,
despite the fact that by solemn treaty between the United States and
the Indians mutual forgiveness and oblivion for the hostile acts of
each had been decreed. But the payment in full in 1829 was as little
successful in disposing of the matter as the treaty of 1815 had been,
for the self-same claimants utilized the opportunity presented by
the Pottawatomie cession of 1833 to raise themselves to comparative
affluence by extracting, ostensibly from the Indians but in reality
from the government, the sum of twenty thousand dollars more.
[Footnote 920: For the treaty see _ibid._, 320-22; for the schedule of
claims see _ibid._, 604.]
Nor is the grant of two thousand dollars to Mrs. Helm by the
Treaty of 1833 less dubious in character. Lieutenant Helm had come
to Fort Dearborn in the summer of 1811 in straitened financial
circumstances.[921] Since his pay was but twenty-five dollars a month,
he can scarcely have increased his fortune materially in the ensuing
period of a little over a year. In fact, during this time, his account
with the government factory steadily increased, and when the store was
closed by Irwin in July, 1812, was one of the largest on the factor's
books.[922] In the nature of things he could not have lost any great
amount of property at the time of the massacre. Whatever it was,
however, Mrs. Helm had already been compensated for it. By the Treaty
of Prairie du Chien of July, 1829, she received eight hundred dollars
"for losses sustained at the time of the capture of Fort Dearborn,
in 1812," with the stipulation, of course, that this payment was "in
full satisfaction" of all claims. Like her half-brothers and sisters,
however, she now again received compensation, and her claims, like
theirs, had waxed greater with the passage of time and the increase
of opportunity for collecting them. The ignoring of Lieutenant Helm's
interest in the money collected for the destruction of his property was
due to the fact that in the summer of 1829 Mrs. Helm obtained a divorce
from him.[923] The decree provided that she should hold in her own
right, as a part of the alimony allowed her, all of the money or other
property granted to her as one of the heirs of John Kinzie in the late
treaty of Prairie du Chien. Although the latter antedates the granting
of the divorce decree by almost eleven weeks, it is evident that Mrs.
Helm's spokesmen at the negotiation of the treaty had arranged its
terms, as far as they related to her, with this provision of the decree
in view.
[Footnote 921: See _supra_, p. 177.]
[Footnote 922: Indian Trade Department, Chicago Petty Ledger, MS volume
in Pension Building.]
[Footnote 923: McCulloch, _Early Days of Peoria and Chicago_, 108.]
A few days after the treaty had been concluded the distribution of
goods to the Indians for which it made provision was begun. Of the
one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars' worth of goods which
the Indians were to receive, eighty thousand dollars' worth were
distributed at this time, in addition to the payment of the annuity
in cash. But little reflection is required to show that the Indians
themselves profited little by the wealth bestowed upon them. The
greater part of it quickly passed from their hands to the coffers of
the traders, much of it in exchange for bad whisky; and the red man was
probably more injured than benefited by the mess of pottage for which
he had surrendered his birthright.
Jeremiah Porter, the pioneer preacher, has left a vivid description
of the proceedings which accompanied the payment to the Indians.[924]
The money and goods were paid to heads of families according to the
number in each household. The money was paid in silver half-dollars,
and some heads of families received four hundred of these coins, which
were thrown into the corner of their dirty blankets and "carried off
in triumph." The scenes attending the payment were full of excitement.
The distribution was continued on Sunday the same as during the week.
"Thousands of human beings--some sitting, some standing, others lying
on the grass in all imaginable positions, some riding, some fighting,
and one bleeding to death, the main artery of his arm being cut off,
while his murderer stood a prisoner, struggling in the arms of a female
avenger of blood"--such were the scenes enacted that Sabbath day.
Meanwhile the minister preached to his little flock from the text, "And
he kneeled down and cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to
their charge, and fell asleep."
[Footnote 924: Porter, _Earliest Religious History of Chicago_, 72-74.]
In preparation for the payment the traders had ordered large quantities
of whisky, anticipating a golden harvest. To their chagrin, however,
a strong south wind prevailed for many days, so that no vessels
could come up the lake while the Indians were here. Temperance men
and Christians rejoiced, while the traders were correspondingly
disappointed. In consequence of this "Divine protection" of the
Indians, they carried away from Chicago a large amount of the silver
which, but for the contrary wind, would have been wasted in revelry and
debauchery.[925]
[Footnote 925: Porter, who wrote many years after the event, states
that the amount paid in silver was fifty thousand dollars, and
estimates that the savages took away thirty thousand dollars among
them.]
Two years passed when in the summer of 1835 the natives assembled at
Chicago to receive the last payment of their annuity and to prepare for
the long journey to their new home beyond the Mississippi. Chicago had
long been a favorite resort with the Pottawatomies. Here they had come
to hold their councils and to receive their annuities. Here almost a
quarter of a century before they had gained their most signal triumph
over the race that was crowding them ever westward. Since the last
great gathering two years before, the sprawling village had developed
into what, to the unsophisticated red man, must have seemed a veritable
metropolis. The signs of civilization which it presented to their
wondering gaze, although crude enough from the point of view of the
twentieth century, must have brought home to them the realization that
their birthright had passed into the possession of a mightier race;
already they were strangers in the land of their nativity.
As on happier occasions of meeting, however, the Indians danced and
sang and drank and fought. Several thousand had assembled,[926] and
much the same picturesque and motley scenes were presented as had
attended the gathering of 1833. "Some were well dressed, well mounted,
and dignified," wrote Porter. "These were, I suppose, civilized and
Christianized Indians from St. Joseph. Others were ragged, dirty,
half-naked, and drunk, singing their fiendish songs.... Thousands are
around us. I can hardly raise my eyes to my window without seeing them
in some form--men racing on horseback or women riding by with their
heavy panniers full of flour, or beef, or children. Many of the horses
have bells on them that are ringing all day. Some of the men and some
of the women also have bells on their limbs which ring with each step
they take."[927] "A more motley group eye never beheld," wrote the
reporter for Chicago's only newspaper, the _Weekly Democrat_. "Their
clothing is of every color, bright red predominating, and bedizened
with bracelets, ribbons, and feathers." The reporter dismisses the
entire subject of the gathering in a single paragraph, however, in
the course of which he nonchalantly imparts the information that "On
Monday, we understand that one was tried by his tribe for the murder
of a squaw, and sentenced to death. He was shot by the chief a short
distance from town."[928]
[Footnote 926: Jeremiah Porter wrote in his journal at the time,
"thousands are around us" (Chicago Times, December 19, 1875). The
_Chicago Weekly Democrat_, August 19, 1835, estimated the number
present at from two thousand to four thousand. John Dean Caton, who was
a resident of Chicago and deeply interested, in the Indians, puts the
number (_Miscellanies_, 139) at live thousand.]
[Footnote 927: Journal of Jeremiah Porter, in _Chicago Times_, December
19, 1875.]
[Footnote 928: _Chicago Weekly Democrat_, August 19, 1835.]
Before quitting forever their ancient council ground the warriors
indulged in a last great war dance. The matchless charm of Irving has
immortalized the Moor's farewell to his beloved land. More dramatic
in its picturesque savagery, and worthier far of the life he had led,
was the Pottawatomie's farewell to Chicago. Driven westward by the
advancing tide of civilization, in the final moments of their expiring
tenure of their homeland the warriors gave a demonstration of their
devotion to their ancient ideals, by staging before their conquerors
such an exhibition of savagery as appalled the stoutest hearts.
As many warriors as could be mustered, about eight hundred in number,
assembled in the council house on the north side of the river.[929]
Their only covering was a strip of cloth about the loins and a
profusion of paint of brilliant colors with which the face and body
were hideously decorated. Their hair, long, coarse, and black, was
gathered into a scalp lock on top of the head and profusely decorated
with hawk and eagle feathers, some strung together so as to extend
down the back nearly to the ground. Led by a band of musicians, the
procession moved westward from the council house along the bank of the
river until the North Branch was reached. Crossing this on the old
bridge, it turned to the south along the West Side to the bridge across
the South Branch, not far from Lake Street. This was crossed in turn,
and the procession moved eastward on Lake Street and came to an end in
front of Fort Dearborn.
[Footnote 929: For the ceremony I have drawn upon the graphic
description of Caton (_Miscellanies_, 141-45), who was an eye-witness
of the proceedings.]
[Illustration: THE TRANSFORMATION OF A CENTURY
Grant Park and Michigan Avenue, where the Fort Dearborn garrison
marched to destruction one hundred years ago]
Every effort was made to render the dance, which to the participants
was "a funeral ceremony of old associations and memories," impressive
and solemn. The procession moved slowly, the warriors advancing with
a continual dance. In front of every house along their course a stop
was made and extra feats were performed. The musicians produced a
discordant din of hideous noises by beating on hollow vessels and
striking sticks and clubs together.
The Sauganash Hotel at that time stood on the corner of Lake and
Market Streets, where a quarter of a century later Abraham Lincoln
received that nomination for the presidency which involved the
nation in civil war. From its second-story parlor windows a group of
spectators, chiefly ladies, gazed out upon the strange exhibition. From
this vantage point John D. Caton, a future chief justice of the Supreme
Court of Illinois, looked down upon the dance. It was mid-August,
the morning was very warm, and the exertions of the warriors caused
the perspiration to pour forth almost in streams. "Their eyes were
wild and blood-shot," writes Caton, "their countenances had assumed
an expression of all the worst passions which can find a place in
the breast of a savage; fierce anger, terrible hate, dire revenge,
remorseless cruelty, all were expressed in their terrible features.
Their muscles stood out in great hard knots, as if wrought to a tension
which must burst them. Their tomahawks and clubs were thrown and
brandished about in every direction with the most terrible ferocity,
and with a force and energy which could only result from the highest
excitement, and with every step and every gesture they uttered the most
frightful yells, in every imaginable key and note, though generally the
highest and shrillest possible. The dance, which was ever continued,
consisted of leaps and spasmodic steps, now forward and now back
or sideways, with the whole body distorted into every imaginable
unnatural position, most generally stooping forward, with the head and
face thrown up, the back arched down, first one foot thrown forward
and then withdrawn, and the other similarly thrust out, frequently
squatting quite to the ground, and all with a movement almost as quick
as lightning. Their weapons were brandished as if they would slay
a thousand enemies at every blow, while the yells and screams they
uttered were broken up and multiplied and rendered all the more hideous
by a rapid clapping of the mouth with the hand."
The impression produced upon the spectators by such an exhibition can
readily be imagined. Many of those who had gathered at the Sauganash
were recent arrivals from the East and knew nothing of the Indians
but what they had been told of their butcheries and tortures. Others,
like Caton himself, had been for some time familiar with the red men.
But the spectacle tried the nerves of even the stoutest, and all felt
that one such sight was sufficient for a lifetime. From the Sauganash
parlors, whose windows faced the west, the parade was visible some time
before it reached the North Branch bridge, and from this place all the
way to the bridge across the South Branch and down Lake Street to the
hotel itself. As they came upon the bridge, the wild band of musicians
in front redoubled their blows to increase the noise. When the head
of the column had reached the front of the hotel, "leaping, dancing,
gesticulating, and screaming, while they looked up with hell itself
depicted on their faces, at the _chemokoman_ squaws in the windows, and
brandished their weapons as if they were about to make a real attack in
deadly earnest, the rear was still on the other side of the river, two
hundred yards off; and all the intervening space including the bridge
and its approaches, was covered with this raging savagery glistening in
the sun, reeking with streamy sweat, fairly frothing at their mouths as
with unaffected rage, it seemed as if we had a picture of hell itself
before us, and a carnival of the damned spirits there confined, whose
pastimes we may suppose should present some such scene as this."
Thus did the red man play his savage role to the end. It was a brave
show which he enacted that summer morning, but it was nothing more. For
him the scepter of power had departed, and this was his final farewell.
A few weeks later he took up his weary journey toward the sunset, and
Chicago knew him no more. The red man had vanished, and Chicago and
Chicago's future were committed to the care of another and mightier
race.
APPENDICES
APPENDIX I
JOURNAL OF LIEUTENANT JAMES STRODE SWEARINGEN, "REMARKS ON THE ROAD
FROM DETROIT TO CHICAGO," JULY-AUGUST, 1803[930]
[Footnote 930: The Journal was kept by Swearingen while en route to
Chicago in temporary command of the company of United States soldiers
going to establish the first Fort Dearborn in the summer of 1803.
The original manuscript is at present the property of a grandson of
Swearingen, Mr. James S. Thatcher, of Dallas, Tex. Since access to it
was impossible the text presented here is taken from a typewritten
copy of the original made for the Chicago Historical Society in 1903
by another descendant of Swearingen, Miss Marian Scott Franklin, of
Chillicothe, Ohio.]
Detroit, July, 14th, 1803.
Left this place this morning at half past five o'clock, for Chicago and
proceeded about 26 miles and encamped at five o'clock p.m., on a small
branch of bad water. The land is generally good timbered, with large
oak, ash, and hickory. A great deal of underbrush. Crossed no waters
except the river Roush.
Friday, July, 15th.
Proceeded on our march at half past four a.m.., 20 miles, and encamped
at 1 o'clock p.m., on the river Huron, which is very low. The land is
generally level and wet. Several swamps, badly timbered, and the road
very bad on account of being so wet. Fine weather.
Saturday, July, 16th.
Proceeded on our march at 6 o'clock a.m., 18 miles, and encamped at a
small Indian village near three small lakes and branch, at 2 o'clock,
p.m. The land is generally level and poor, timbered with oak, several
prairies, not of a good quality. The weather is warm. Clear days.
Sunday, July, 17th.
Proceeded on our march at 7 o'clock a.m., 20 miles, and encamped at 5
o'clock P.M., on a handsome branch of cool, good water, near a spring
of clear, fine water. The land is generally poor and hilly. Passed a
lake of about 2 miles in length and one half in breadth, and a spring
and a handsome branch of fine water. At this branch, there is every
appearance of a large bed of iron ore. Fine weather.
Monday, July, 18th.
Proceeded on our march at 15 minutes past 2 o'clock p.m., 18 miles and
encamped on Grand river, at 7 o'clock, p.m., near a village. Crossed
two small branches, passed several ponds of water. Grand river is about
30 feet wide and tolerably rapid. At this time it is shallow. The land
is poor, hilly, and barren, except the river bottom, which is about a
half mile wide and well timbered, with ash, oak, and beech. Weather
fine and cool.
Tuesday, July, 19th.
Proceeded on our march at 6 o'clock, a.m., 25 miles, and encamped on
the river Kehanimasoo, at 15 minutes after 6 o'clock. The river is
about 60 feet wide, tolerable rapid, and not deep. The banks are low,
no bottoms. The land is hilly, poor and barren. About four and a half
miles from the river, there is a handsome spring and large branch.
This day we crossed several handsome branches of tolerable good water,
several large swamps, prairies, &c. &c. The weather is warm and fine.
Wednesday, July, 20th.
Proceeded on our march at half past 6 o'clock, a.m., 27 miles and
encamped on the river Kehanimasoo, at 6 o'clock p.m. This day we
crossed Little Kehanimasoo, at 6 miles from our encampment, and several
other small branches. The land is tolerably good in places, remainder
open, oak land, soil thin. Fine weather.
Thursday, July, 21st.
Proceeded on our march at half past 6 a.m., 15 miles, and encamped
on the river Kehanimasoo, at 3 o'clock, p.m. The land is broken and
barren, timber generally small oak, except the last four miles, which
is fine rich land well timbered. Crossed several small branches and
passed near some handsome lakes and prairies, some of which, are low
and swampy. Fine, cool weather. 9 o'clock, p.m. smart shower.
Friday, July, 22nd.
Proceeded on our march at 15 minutes past 7 o'clock a.m. The land in
places, tolerably good. Most of this day's march, is through level
barrens, large prairies 9 miles through, soil not good. Crossed 2
branches in the morning. Fine weather.
Saturday, July, 23rd.
Proceeded on our march at 9 o'clock a.m., 12 miles and encamped near
an Indian village at 2 o'clock, p.m., near the edge of a small lake of
very bad water. The land in general, tolerably good, well timbered,
with ash, oak, beech, sugar trees, etc. Several large grass swamps,
roads very bad on account of fallen timber. 9 o'clock p.m., heavy storm
of rain and wind.
Sunday, July, 24th.
Proceeded on our march at 7 o'clock a.m., 19 miles and encamped in a
prairie near a creek at 6 o'clock p.m. The land is part very good,
timber, ash, beech, and sugar trees. Greater part very poor and barren,
several large creeks, prairies, swamps. A handsome spring in the edge
of a wet prairie, 12 miles from encampment.
Monday, July, 25th.
Proceeded on our march at 15 minutes past 8 o'clock a.m., 12 miles
to the river St. Josephus and encamped on the bank near Kinzey's
Improvement, at 1 o'clock p.m. The first mile is through a very
handsome prairie, through a small piece of tolerable woodland. One
mile to the river Limmonet, Crossed a handsome branch at the mouth
and proceeded down this river about two miles, crossed it, 3 miles
through tolerably good oak land, timber tall and handsome, to an Indian
village, on the river near the mouth, crossed it at this village, and
proceeded up the river St. Josephus, 5 miles, crossed several handsome
branches. Several showers of rain. The land from the village is barren
and poor.
Tuesday, July, 26th.
Detained her[e] on account of sending for [boats?] to the Kenkakee
river, which is 6 miles from this place. Portage 4 miles, from St.
Josephus river to the Kenkakee river. Kenkakee is a branch of the
Illinois and is navigable, a short distance above this, for small
crafts. In the spring there is no portage, the two waters connect.
Wednesday, July, 27th.
Proceeded down the river, 15 minutes past 12 o'clock with 17 men and
baggage, 36 miles, and encamped on the river bank, at half past 6
o'clock, p.m. The remainder of the men, marched by land. This river is
generally very rapid and shoal bank very good.
Thursday, July, 28th.
Proceeded down the river at half past 6 a.m., 40 miles and encamped at
the mouth, at 2 o'clock p.m. The bank at this place is about 60 feet
high, level oak land back. From Kinzey's, to this place, by land, is 36
miles. Detained at this place until the 12th of August. The weather was
generally very good. Distance from Detroit to this place is 272 miles.
Friday, August, 12th, 1803.
Proceeded on our march up the lake at 6 o'clock a.m., 14 miles and
encamped at 1 o'clock, p.m., on account of the roughness of the lake.
Several very heavy showers of rain.
Saturday, August, 13th.
Detained on account of the roughness of the lake. High winds.
Sunday, August, 14th.
Still detained on account of the roughness of the lake and high winds.
Monday, August, 15th.
Proceeded on our march at 5 o'clock, a.m., 39 miles and encamped at
half past 5 p.m. near an old fort. Heavy storm of wind and rain, in the
night. 12 miles from encampment is a handsome Indian village, 3 miles
to a river about 20 yards wide, shallow, 12 miles to a small river,
then 12 miles to plain [place?] of encampment.
Tuesday, August, 15th.
Proceeded on our march at 15 minutes past 5 o'clock a.m. 33 miles, and
encamped on the Little Calamac river, at 16 minutes past 5 o'clock,
p.m. Crossed the Grand Calamac river, at 8 o'clock a.m., 12 miles from
encampment.
Wednesday, August, 17th.
Proceeded on our march at 6 o'clock a.m., 34 miles and encamped on
the Chicago river, at 2 o'clock p.m. This river is about 30 yards wide
where the garrison is intended, to be built, and from 18 feet and
upwards, deep, dead water, owing to its being stopped up at the mouth,
by the washing of sand, from the lakes. The water is not fit to use.
The bank where the fort is to be built is about 8 feet high and a half
mile above the mouth. The opposite bank is not so high, not being a
difference, of more than two feet, by appearances. The banks above are
quite low. The distance from Detroit, to the mouth of the St. Josephus,
is 272 miles. From the mouth of the St. Josephus to Chicago, 90 miles,
making in the whole 362 miles.
PORTAGE.
A portage from the Chicago river, so as to get into the Illinois
river, which is 400 miles from the lakes, or the mouth of Chicago. This
portage is 6 miles above the mouth and a short distance, across into a
small creek, which discharges itself into the river, 16 miles from this
place, at a village, from thence, into a small lakes and creeks, until
intersected, by the Illinois river, from thence into the Mississippi.
In the spring or time of high water, small crafts, may pass without any
land carriage.
APPENDIX II
SOURCES OF INFORMATION FOR THE FORT DEARBORN MASSACRE
The history of lost manuscripts, even in so new a country as the United
States, contains not only much of interest to the curious, but much
of profit to the serious, who are genuinely interested in the work of
preserving the records of the past. Various have the fortunes of these
precious documents been. Some have been used by frugal housewives to
cover jelly glasses or pack eggs, others have gone to feed the paper
mill or the furnace; while all the time our libraries and historical
societies are longing for the opportunity to secure such materials for
preservation for the use of future generations. At times, however,
the very measure of placing manuscripts within the protecting walls
of an institution has been responsible for their oblivion. Either the
document has been mislaid and its resting-place forgotten, or actual
destruction has come upon it.
The history of manuscripts pertaining to the Fort Dearborn tragedy
furnishes numerous illustrations of these various contingencies. One
of the most important of them, a document of several hundred pages,
disappeared, apparently for all time, from the home of the Heald family
a half-century ago. Another, Lieutenant Helm's massacre narrative,
after being lost to sight for three-quarters of a century, was
discovered a few years since in the Detroit Public Library. A third,
the fatal order of Hull to Captain Heald for the evacuation of the
fort, long supposed to have been destroyed, has been for over forty
years, unknown to historical workers, a part of the Draper Collection,
now the property of the Wisconsin State Historical Society. Still other
documents gathered with loving care within the walls of the local
Historical Society by citizens of Chicago, by reason of this fact were
doomed to perish in one or other of the fires which have twice consumed
the Society's archives. Such was the fate of the papers of Lieutenant
Swearingen, destroyed in the great fire of 1871, a few years after he
had presented them to the Society. Such was the fate, also, of John
Kinzie's account books with their unique picture of early Chicago in
the years from 1804 to 1824.
Fortunately in both these instances a remnant of the original has been
preserved to us through the very fact of its retention in private
hands. Swearingen retained part of his private papers, and some of
these, including the original journal of the march of the troops from
Detroit to Chicago in 1803 to establish the first Fort Dearborn, are
still in the possession of his descendants.[931] Of Kinzie's account
books a transcript of the names together with some additional data
is all that remains.[932] Its preservation is due to the fortunate
circumstance that ten years before the Chicago Fire the list was copied
for the use of a historical worker, who carried it with him when he
left Chicago to enter the Union army. More than forty years later, on
the occasion of the centennial of the founding of Fort Dearborn, the
original books having been destroyed, it was returned to the Historical
Society.
[Footnote 931: For the Journal see _supra_, Appendix I.]
[Footnote 932: The allusion is to the _Barry Transcript_, which has
been cited in various footnotes.]
A source of equal regret to the investigator is the fact that many of
the documents pertaining to the massacre which actually remain to us
are a disappointment in one respect or another. Captain Heald, who of
all men was best qualified to speak with authority, left a report of
only a page to cover the entire period from the preliminary massacre
at Chicago in April until his arrival in Pittsburgh late in October.
Lieutenant Helm, who should have been the best qualified witness after
Heald, labored long and arduously upon a narrative which goes into
minute detail with respect to the massacre itself; on examination,
however, it becomes evident that much of the author's labor was
directed to the end of misstating rather than revealing the facts.
McAfee, one of the best historians of the War of 1812, deriving his
information from Sergeant Griffith, a participant in the massacre,
saw fit to devote but three pages to his account of the fall of Fort
Dearborn. Finally, in Mrs. Kinzie, the author of _Wau Bun_, the
youthful Chicago gained a writer of more than usual charm, who from
her position in the Kinzie family and her proximity to the massacre
in point of time enjoyed an opportunity now gone forever to gain
from eye-witnesses of the events attending the massacre information
for an authoritative narrative; yet her account is perhaps the most
disappointing, from the historical point of view, of any with which we
have to deal.
It is our immediate task, however, to estimate the sources of
information that remain to us for what they are worth. First in
order must be placed the report of Captain Heald to the government.
His official rank, the concise yet inclusive manner of expression,
the early date, October 23, 1812, all unite to give it priority of
consideration. Hull's terse compliment, "Captain Heald is a judicious
officer, and I shall confide much to his discretion," Heald's record
in the service, the peculiar circumstances under which he took command
at Fort Dearborn, and the few papers of his in existence, show him to
have been an officer of merit and of judgment. In striking contrast
with the narratives of some of his detractors, Heald's report is
marked by an air of candor and plain common sense. He gives not the
slightest intimation of any feeling of prejudice or hostility toward
anyone in the garrison or settlement. Kinzie, the trader, who looms so
large in the _Wau Bun_ narrative, is not even mentioned. No statements
calculated to challenge the reader's credulity are made. From any point
of view the report must be ranked as historical material of a high
order of excellence, our only ground for disappointment proceeding from
its brevity.
Heald's official report is supplemented to some extent by his journal,
which sketches the main events of his life until after his retirement
from the army, and by a number of letters and papers in the Draper
Collection and in the possession of his descendants. The second
important source is the narrative of Lieutenant Helm, written in the
summer of 1814. It is approximately three times as long as Heald's
report, and describes the actual battle with much detail. Written by
the officer second in command of the troops, it would be of inestimable
value to the student in supplementing Heald's report, were it not for
the fact that in this instance the author's candor is as conspicuous by
its absence as it is by its presence in the former one.
Further consideration of Helm's narrative is reserved for the present.
After these accounts of the two ranking officers, who were also the
only ones to survive the battle, must be placed the narratives of their
wives as recorded by their descendants. These are the relation of
Rebekah Heald as told to her son, Darius Heald, and his family, and the
Helm-Kinzie account embodied in Mrs. Juliette Kinzie's _Wau Bun_.
Rebekah Heald was the only one, apparently, of those concerned in the
massacre who took the trouble to write a comprehensive account of her
life in Chicago. Before her death in 1856 she dictated to a niece a
large number of facts connected with her early life. The manuscript
was foolscap and contained, according to her son's recollection of it,
several hundred pages.[933] During the Civil War the Heald residence in
St. Charles County, Missouri, was ransacked from cellar to garret by
a band of Union soldiers. Among other things which were taken by the
marauders was Captain Heald's sword, and Mrs. Heald's manuscript. The
sword was recovered by a negro boy, but the manuscript has never since
been seen, and was probably destroyed at the time.[934]
[Footnote 933: For the history of this manuscript, together with Darius
Heald's recital to Kirkland of his mother's story of the massacre, see
_Magazine of American History_, XXVIII, 111-22.]
[Footnote 934: Curiously enough, if Darius Heald's impression is
correct, it was a Chicago regiment which perpetrated the act of
destruction (_ibid._, 122).]
Fortunately we have an indication of the character of its contents in
the recital by Darius Heald of his mother's story as he remembered it
from hearing her tell it "a hundred times." His narrative has been
recorded in two forms, with an interval of many years between them.
In 1868 he was interviewed by Lyman Draper, the famous collector in
the field of western history, who at the time was on one of his tours
in search of historical information. Draper's record of the interview
was, however, buried away among his papers, and has until the present
time been unknown to workers in the field of Chicago history.[935] In
ignorance, therefore, of the Draper interview, Darius Heald was again
interviewed, almost a quarter of a century later, by Joseph Kirkland,
and the story which he obtained was considered by him sufficiently
important to lead him to write his book. The Chicago Massacre.[936] A
comparison of the two versions affords in some degree a test of the
reliability of the Darius Heald narrative. It reveals, as might be
expected, discrepancies in matters of detail, but the final impression
left by the comparison is that neither Darius Heald nor his mother
was animated by any conscious purpose to deceive. Produced under such
circumstances as have already been described, the limitations of the
narrative are obvious, and proper caution must be preserved and due
allowance for error made in the use of it. Subject to these limitations
it may be regarded as a valuable contribution to our knowledge of the
massacre.
[Footnote 935: The narrative is printed for the first time as Appendix
V.]
[Footnote 936: The entire narrative is printed in the _Magazine of
American History_, XXVIII, 111-22. For the use which Kirkland made of
it see his book, _The Chicago Massacre_.]
We may now direct our attention to the Kinzie family narrative of the
tragedy as told by Mrs. Juliette A. Kinzie, the daughter-in-law of
John Kinzie, the trader. Like the narrative of Rebekah Heald, as told
by her son Darius, it comes down to us in two forms. Put forth at
first anonymously in pamphlet form in 1844,[937] it appeared twelve
years later as a part of the author's book _Wau Bun, or The Early Day
in the Northwest_. It was published at a time when the consciousness
of Chicago's future destiny was already dawning on its citizens. To a
developing popular interest in the city's past was joined a general
lack of information concerning her greatest tragedy. Mrs. Kinzie's
narrative, claiming to be based on the testimony of eye-witnesses,
spoke with assurance and precision on a subject about which all others
were ignorant. Its statements have commonly been accepted without
question or criticism, and have constituted the foundation, and usually
the superstructure as well, of almost all that has been written upon
the Fort Dearborn massacre. Sober historians and fanciful novelists
alike have made it the quarry from which to draw the material for their
narratives. Says Moses in his Illinois, published in 1889: "Without
exception, historians have relied for their facts in regard to the
massacre upon the account given of the event by Mrs. Juliette A.
Kinzie ...."; and although he points out the possibility of an undue
criticism of Captain Heald, he concludes that its statements "bear upon
their face the appearance of truth and fairness."[938] While it is
true that some dissent from the general chorus of confidence in Mrs.
Kinzie's narrative has been voiced,[939] the statement made by Thwaites
in 1901 that it "has been accepted by the historians of Illinois as
substantially accurate, and other existing accounts are generally based
upon this,"[940] still stands as entirely correct.
[Footnote 937: _Narrative of the Massacre at Chicago, August 15, 1812,
and of Some Preceding Events_ (Chicago, 1844).]
[Footnote 938: Moses, _Illinois, Historical and Statistical_, I,
251-52.]
[Footnote 939: Notably by Hurlbut, _Chicago Antiquities_, and Kirkland,
_Chicago Massacre_. Carl Dilg and William R. Head, two recent workers
in the local antiquarian and historical field, both repudiated it.
Both men were unscientific in their methods and animated by violent
prejudices, however. Dilg's papers are now owned by the Chicago
Historical Society, while most of Head's were destroyed a few months
after his death in 1910. A few fragments are in the Chicago Historical
Society library, while a considerably larger number are still in the
possession of the widow, Mrs. William R. Head, of Chicago.]
[Footnote 940: Kinzie, _Wau Bun_, Caxton Club edition, p. xix.]
A critical examination of Mrs. Kinzie's narrative is, then, essential
to any study of the Fort Dearborn massacre. The author was born at
Middletown, Conn., in September, 1806, and seems to have enjoyed
educational advantages unusual for girls in her generation. Her
uncle. Doctor Alexander Wolcott, was for almost a dozen years prior
to his death in 1830 government Indian agent at Chicago. Through the
circumstance of his having married the daughter of John Kinzie, the
niece became acquainted with her brother, John Harris Kinzie, and in
August, 1830, the young couple were married.[941] Shortly afterward
the bride was brought by her husband to Wisconsin, where he held the
position of sub-Indian agent at Fort Winnebago. Here they resided
until 1834, when Chicago became their permanent home. Mrs. Kinzie,
therefore, possessed no contemporary or personal knowledge of the Fort
Dearborn massacre, her information being derived from members of her
husband's family subsequent to her marriage. Of these the ones best
qualified to give her first-hand information were her mother-in-law
and her husband's half-sister, Mrs. Helm. Since the older woman did
not witness the actual conflict, for this part of her narrative Mrs.
Kinzie purports to quote directly the words of Mrs. Helm, though it is
evident that not all that passes for direct quotation from the latter
was actually derived from her.
[Footnote 941: A sketch of the early life of Mrs. Kinzie by her
daughter is appended to the Rand-McNally 1903 edition of _Wau Bun_.]
In the preface to the pamphlet narrative of 1844 Mrs. Kinzie
explained that the record had been taken many years since from the
lips of eye-witnesses of the events described, and written down simply
for the purpose of preserving to her children "a faithful picture
of the perilous scenes through which those near and dear to them
had been called to pass." Her record of the massacre is thus on a
footing of equality with that of Darius Heald, in that each is based
on information derived from participants in the events attending
the massacre. From the point of view of the historian, however, it
possesses at least one marked advantage over the latter. The Heald
narrative was reduced to writing for the first time in 1868, over half
a century after the occurrence of the events described. The pamphlet
edition of the Kinzie narrative was published in 1844, almost a quarter
of a century-earlier. Aside from this priority in point of time,
its author possessed, at the time she received her information, the
conscious purpose of preserving it in written form, if not, indeed,
of publishing it. Unfortunately, however, these obvious advantages
possessed by Mrs. Kinzie are offset by qualities in her narrative
which destroy, in large part, the historical value it might otherwise
have possessed. The evident inability of the author to state the facts
correctly is manifest throughout the work. It abounds in details that
could not possibly have been remembered by Mrs. Kinzie's supposed
informants; in others that could not have been known to them; and in
still others that could never have occurred. Undaunted by the absence
of records, Mrs. Kinzie repeats speeches and dialogues verbatim,
as she, apparently, conceived they should have been recited. Thus
the warning speech of Black Partridge, the order of Hull for the
evacuation, and the speech of the Miami chieftain at the beginning of
the fight are given with all the precision of stenographic reports.
The Black Partridge incident is undoubtedly founded on fact, but Mrs.
Kinzie's version of his speech is just as certainly the product of
her own literary imagination.[942] That Hull sent an order for the
evacuation was, of course, a matter of common knowledge; that Mrs.
Kinzie possessed a copy of it or could pretend to report it literally
is so improbable that even though the original order had never been
recovered, we might reasonably regard her version of it as unreliable.
Concerning the speech of the Miami chief, if delivered at all, it could
not have been in the form which Mrs. Kinzie has recorded; nor could
Mrs. Helm, from whom it purports to be reported, possibly have heard it
uttered.
[Footnote 942: Mrs. Kinzie's version of this speech, which has
frequently been quoted, affords a typical illustration of her practice
of embellishing the narrative with details wholly imaginary. The two
source accounts of the incident both agree that Black Partridge sought
out the interpreter in order to deliver his warning. According to Helm
the two waited upon Heald, to whom "the Indian gave up his medal &
told Heald to beware of the next day that the Indians would destroy
him & his men." Thus Helm, writing within two years of the event, did
not attempt to do more than give the substance of Black Partridge's
speech. Nor could he possibly have done otherwise, if there is any
truth in his further statement that the warning was concealed from the
other officers by Heald and that Wells alone knew of it. Despite this
handicap and the equally serious one that the warning was uttered by
Black Partridge in his native tongue, Mrs. Kinzie was able, over thirty
years later, to report it as follows: "Father, I come to deliver up
to you the medal I wear. It was given me by the Americans, and I have
long worn it in token of our mutual friendship. But our young men are
resolved to imbrue their hands in the blood of the whites. I cannot
restrain them and I will not wear a token of peace while I am compelled
to act as an enemy."]
But a graver fault than the foregoing vitiates the narrative. The
account of the events attending the massacre is highly partisan,
manifesting throughout a bitter antipathy to Captain Heald and a
corresponding idealization of Kinzie. Probably the author is herself
responsible for the latter feature; the responsibility for the former
must be shared with her informants. Their representations concerning
the massacre, and the role played by Captain Heald therein, would
obviously be similar to those of Lieutenant Helm. The extent of his
antipathy for, and misrepresentations of, his commander will be set
forth presently. It is probable that the younger Mrs. Kinzie never
saw his narrative of the massacre, although her own account repeats
many of the statements contained in it. The fact of their occurrence
in the earlier narrative, however, does not of itself establish their
reliability. It merely shifts the responsibility for them to Helm and
compels an inquiry as to the character of his narrative; and the result
of such an inquiry is to dispel all confidence in its reliability and
in the candor of its author.
Finally the historical value of Mrs. Kinzie's book is lessened by the
author's fondness for romance and for dramatic effect, which too often
overshadow her zeal for the simple truth. It was this characteristic
of the book, apparently, which led Kirkland to conclude that the
author intended it to be regarded as a romance rather than as sober
history. Whatever the truth may be as to her intention, there can be no
gainsaying Kirkland's verdict that the book reads like a romance. In
capacity for adventure its characters rival the traditional medieval
knight; while over it all the author has thrown a glamor of romance
which was strikingly absent from the crass materialism of life on the
northwestern frontier a century ago.
It had been arranged by Kinzie that Mrs. Kinzie and her children
should be taken across the lake to St. Joseph in a boat in charge of
the servants and some friendly Indians. Kinzie himself went with the
troops. The boat was detained at the mouth of the river, however, and
here Mrs. Kinzie spent the time during the battle and massacre. Mrs.
Helm had ridden out with her husband, and thus was actually present in
the battle. She soon became separated from her husband and apparently
was with the rear division around the wagons during the fighting
there. According to her own story as told in _Wau Bun_, at the height
of the fighting she drew aside and with philosophic calmness began to
compose herself to meet her end. While thus engaged the surgeon, Van
Voorhis, came up, wounded and panic-stricken, "every muscle of his face
quivering with the agony of terror." Oblivious of the helplessness
and inexperience of the young woman, he frantically sought some
assurance of safety from her. While the battle raged around she strove
to discourage his hope and to arouse him to meet his fate with manly
firmness. She even pointed out the soldierly behavior of Ronan, who,
though mortally wounded and nearly down, was fighting with desperation
on one knee. This appeal to the example set by Ronan was, however, in
vain, eliciting from the surgeon only the astonishing rejoinder "with
a convulsive shudder," that he had "no terrors of the future--he is an
unbeliever."
The remarkable dialogue was interrupted at this point by a young Indian
who attempted to tomahawk Mrs. Helm. She dodged the blow, and closing
with the warrior struggled to secure his knife. From this predicament
she was suddenly snatched by Black Partridge, who bore her to the
lake and plunged her into the water. Instead of drowning her as she
expected, he held her in a position which permitted her to breathe, and
she soon discovered that he had taken this way of saving her from the
tomahawk. When the firing died down he bore her to the shore and up the
sand bank, whence she was conducted back to the Pottawatomie camp west
of the fort on the south side of the river.
Such is Mrs. Helm's narrative of her experience in the massacre
itself, as reported by Mrs. Kinzie. It is evident that only a portion
of the tragedy came under her own personal observation, although in
_Wau Bun_ all the remainder of the narrative, many pages in length,
is represented as being quoted directly from her. If any portion of
the _Wau Bun_ account of the massacre is worthy of credence it should
be this which recites Mrs. Helm's personal experience. Unfortunately
the credibility of even this portion is dubious. That the actor should
emphasize her own part in the affair is, of course, only natural. That
the dialogue with Van Voorhis occurred as represented is, under all the
circumstances, simply incredible. Unfortunately we have no other record
of how Van Voorhis met his fate, and so for nearly three-quarters of a
century his memory has been blackened by this cruel tale, thoughtlessly
taken up and repeated in the numerous accounts of the massacre based on
that contained in _Wau Bun_. The little we know of Van Voorhis tends
to the belief that he was a young man of more than usual spirit and
breadth of vision. His friend and college classmate, Surgeon Cooper,
testified to his personal worth and bravery, and to the end of his
life protested that the _Wau Bun_ version of his death was a cruel
slander.[943] More significant is the testimony of the fragment of
a single letter of Van Voorhis, of which a copy has been preserved.
Writing from his lonely station in October, 1811, he thus foretold the
future destiny of this region: "In my solitary walks I contemplate what
a great and powerful republic will yet arise in this new world. Here,
I say, will be the seat of millions yet unborn; here the asylum of
oppressed millions yet to come. How composedly would I die could I be
resuscitated at that bright era of American greatness--an era which I
hope will announce the tidings of death to fell superstition and dread
tyranny."[944] The man who at the age of twenty-two could pen these
lines is the only one of the whites present on the day of massacre who
is represented as having behaved like a poltroon and a coward.
[Footnote 943: Wilson, _Chicago from 1803 to 1812_.]
[Footnote 944: Van Voorhis, _Ancestry of Wm. Roe Van Voorhis_, 144.]
The story of the rescue of Mrs. Helm by Black Partridge has come to
be regarded as a classic in the early history of Chicago. It has been
made the dominant theme of the massacre monument, and has been accepted
without question by practically all who have written upon the massacre.
Yet it may well be doubted whether the event as described by Mrs.
Kinzie in _Wau Bun_ ever actually occurred. That Black Partridge saved
Mrs. Helm is probably true, but that the affair possessed the romantic
aspect which it has come to assume in the popular mind, or that Mrs.
Helm distinguished herself by her heroism seems unlikely.
The evidence in support of this conclusion is largely negative.
Lieutenant Helm's labored narrative, written in 1814, contains no
mention of the Black Partridge rescue, or of any heroism displayed by
his wife. Concerning her deportment in the massacre he simply records
that, having believed her slain, he was astonished on coming to the
Indian camp to see her "sitting among the squaws crying." In 1820 the
careful and scholarly Schoolcraft passed through Chicago. He gives us
an account of the massacre which he derived chiefly from John Kinzie,
whose guest he was for several days.[945] He describes, among other
things, the duel to the death between Sergeant Hayes and an Indian. The
story is curious and interesting enough to justify him in recording and
commenting upon it. But it is not more curious and thrilling than that
of the Black Partridge rescue of Mrs. Helm, Kinzie's stepdaughter. Why
did Kinzie relate the one and omit to relate the other to Schoolcraft?
Or if Schoolcraft, who is always careful to make note of anything
curious or unusual, was told of the rescue story, why did he fail to
record it? Was there in fact no such rescue, or is the omission due to
its commonplaceness?
[Footnote 945: Schoolcraft, _Narrative Journal of Travels from Detroit
... to the Sources of the Mississippi River in the Year 1820_, 390-93.]
We may now consider the narrative of Lieutenant Helm, sent to Augustus
B. Woodward, of Detroit, in November, 1815.[946] Unfortunately it adds
but little to our knowledge of the massacre--why will be apparent upon
analysis. It is a partisan document for which the writer expects court
martial. Its purpose is evidently to discredit Captain Heald. Helm's
letter to Woodward shows that he had spent some time in preparing
it. Yet the manuscript contains many erasures and alterations. It is
strangely inaccurate with respect to dates, and as strangely precise
in certain details not likely to be noticed or remembered on a battle
field. It makes Hull's order arrive one day too early, the eighth of
August. It also makes Winnemac advise Heald, through Kinzie's agency,
to evacuate at once, the next day if possible, and urge him to change
the usual route to Fort Wayne. Wells is represented as arriving on the
twelfth with the report that the Indians about Fort Wayne are hostile
and will probably interrupt the troops on the march.
[Footnote 946: For the narrative, together with Helm's letter to
Woodward, June 6, 1814, announcing it, see Appendix VI.]
On the day of his arrival Wells held a council with the Indians to
the amount of "500 warriors 179 women and children," as a result of
which he gave the opinion that they also were hostile and would attack
the garrison on the march. On this date, August 12, Helm asserts
that the fort had two hundred stand of arms, six thousand pounds of
powder, four pieces of artillery, an adequate supply of shot and
lead, and three months' supply of Indian corn, besides two hundred
head of homed cattle and twenty-seven barrels of salt. In addition,
three months' provisions had been expended between August seventh and
twelfth, how or why the writer does not say. After the survey had
been made, Kinzie (here Kinzie is erased in the manuscript and Wells
substituted)--Wells demanded of Heald if he intended to evacuate, and
received an affirmative reply. Helm and Kinzie now urged Wells to ask
Heald to destroy the ammunition and liquor. Wells declined, but offered
to accompany Kinzie and Helm. To their representations Heald replied
that he had received positive orders to deliver to the Indians "all the
Public Property of whatsoever nature," that it was bad policy to tell
a lie to an Indian, and that such a crime might irritate the natives
and result in the destruction of his men. Kinzie thereupon offered to
assume the responsibility by fabricating an order from Hull; to this
scheme Heald assented; Kinzie wrote an order "as if from genl. Hull"
and gave it to Heald, and the arms and ammunition were destroyed.
The account of the battle and massacre then follows. It contains some
information of value, but unfortunately it is mingled with much that
is evidently untrue. The attack began at ten o'clock in the morning,
at a distance of a mile and a half from the fort. In a few minutes all
but ten of the men were killed or wounded. Helm called upon his men
to follow him to the prairie, then moved forward under heavy fire one
hundred and five paces, when he wheeled to the left to "avoid being
shot in the back." This careful enumeration, while under heavy fire, of
the exact number of paces taken by the troops can hardly convince the
student of the writer's sincerity. Waiving this point, however, it is
apparent that the Indians on Helm's flank were gaining his rear and he
wheeled to the south to intercept them. The Indians now stopped firing
"and nevour more renewed it." Helm at once ordered the men to reload
their guns. He now discovered Captain Heald, "for the first time to my
knowledge during the battle. He was coming from towards the Indians
and to my great surprise they nevour offered to fire on him." The
inference which the writer wishes to convey is plain, but it is also
evident that Heald had been engaged in battle farther south, and that
he had already taken steps to stop further slaughter by bargaining for
surrender. A futile attempt on the part of the soldiers to charge was
followed by more parleying on Heald's part. Passing over the details,
Helm represents that while Heald was agreeing with Black Bird upon the
terms of surrender he himself with the men who were left fell back to
an elevation near at hand. For a reason hinted at but not explained the
men now regarded Helm as their commander. Heald repeatedly inquires of
his subordinate what he intends to do. The men on the other hand beg
him not to surrender. He urges them not to be uneasy for he has already
done his best for them and will not surrender unless they are willing.
Even the hostile savages now became aware of the quiet usurpation of
the command by Helm during the heat of the battle. The half-breed
interpreter who had conducted the negotiations between Captain Heald
and Black Bird came running to warn Helm not to surrender until a
general council of the Indians had agreed to the terms. Helm replied
that he "had no Ideah of surrender." The interpreter now collected the
Indians and after haranguing them returned with the promise that they
would spare the lives of Helm and his men if they would surrender. He
also informed them that the lives of Kinzie and some of the women and
children had already been spared. This last news enlivened Helm and his
men, for they "well knew Mr. Kinzie stood higher than anny man in that
country" among the Indians, and that "he might be the means of saving
us from utter destruction, which afterwards proved to be the case."
There follows a description of the scene of the massacre at the wagons
which filled Helm with horror. There are a number of other details
that need not be noticed here. The document is of great interest
and of considerable value, but its partisan character is evident
throughout. In his desire to cast discredit upon Captain Heald, Helm
played fast and loose with the facts of the situation. The length to
which he was billing to go in the effort to impugn Heald's judgment
is perhaps sufficiently indicated by the story of the forged order
for the destruction of the arms and ammunition. Even in the absence
of positive evidence, the inherent improbability of the tale is
such as to arouse grave suspicion of its validity. The discovery of
Hull's order for the evacuation changes this suspicion to certainty.
Since Heald was expressly enjoined to destroy the surplus arms and
ammunition the whole tale concerning the forged order is obviously
a sheer invention. Further misstatements occur in connection with
the account of the supplies on hand at the time of the evacuation.
Instead of two hundred stand of arms, the last Fort Dearborn inspection
return shows that there were approximately one-third this number;[947]
and the number of surplus muskets destroyed did not exceed half a
dozen. Instead of twenty-seven barrels of salt there were, according
to a letter of Heald, written six weeks after the massacre, but
seventeen barrels.[948] That there were seventy muskets instead of
two hundred, and seventeen barrels of salt in place of twenty-seven,
is of no particular consequence, for in each case the supply was more
than sufficient. But the inaccuracy of Helm's statements is of some
significance, as affording evidence of the untrustworthiness of his
narrative, even in matters concerning which no adequate motive for
misrepresentation is apparent. The connection between Helm's narrative
of the massacre and that of Mrs. Kinzie in the pages of _Wau Bun_
has already been pointed out. The two proceed from a common source,
and have a common bias against Captain Heald. Helm was the original
traducer of Heald. Almost a hundred years elapsed before his narrative
appeared in print, and Mrs. Kinzie was probably unaware of its
existence. Notwithstanding this its spirit is faithfully reflected in
the latter's account, and through its agency passed into the literature
of the Fort Dearborn massacre. Thus the partisan statements of a bitter
enemy, who did not hesitate to pervert the truth in order to discredit
his commander, taken up and reproduced by others, have been potent to
blast the reputation of Heald to the present time, a century after the
massacre.[949]
[Footnote 947: _Heald Papers_, Draper Collection, U, Vol. VIII.]
[Footnote 948: Heald to Augustus Porter, contractor for the western
posts, September 26, 1812. MS owned by the author.]
[Footnote 949: The issues raised by Helm's account of the massacre
render it a matter of regret that but little authentic information
is extant concerning him. Judge Woodward, in his letter to Proctor
concerning the Chicago captives, speaks highly of Helm (Appendix VII):
there is evidence, however, which tends to invalidate Woodward's
estimate of Helm's character. The following sheds some light upon the
characters respectively of Heald and his detractor. Heald was twice
wounded in the battle of August 15, receiving a bullet in the hip and
another through the arm. The former wound never ceased to trouble him
(Physician's certificates, _Heald Papers_, in Draper Collection), and
he carried the bullet which caused it to his grave. Helm received a
slight flesh wound in the heel, from which he recovered so quickly that
within six weeks Forsyth reported him "in good health and spirits"
(letter of Thomas Forsyth to John Kinzie, September 24, 1812, printed
in _Magazine of History_, XV, 89; see also, infra, letter of Heald
to B. Roberts, December 1, 1825). Heald refrained from applying for
a pension, and when one was procured for him by two of his friends
without his knowledge, the latter, in breaking the news to him, thought
it worth while to urge him not to decline it, and to suggest that
he bestow it upon his children in case he felt any delicacy about
accepting it himself (_supra_, note 620). It is apparent from the
letter of Heald to B. Roberts, December 1, 1825 (printed below), that
when Helm came to apply for a pension he not only made what he might of
his wound, but also preferred a claim against the government for money
advanced by him from his own funds to purchase articles for the troops
at Chicago. This claim Heald denominated "entirely false & without the
least foundation imaginable"; and further that any vouchers which Helm
might submit in support of his claim were fraudulent. Heald's emphatic
condemnation of Helm's assertions and claim find support in what we
know of Helm's financial situation at the time. See on this _supra_,
p. 365. In view of this it seems unlikely, without regard to Heald's
testimony, that he was in a position to advance money to buy articles
for the soldiers.
[_Letter of Heald to B. Roberts_]
St. Charles Missouri
1 December 1825.
Dear Sir, I have reed, your Letter from Russellsville on the
subject of Capt Helms claims on the Government. As to his wound
reed, at Chicago I know nothing that can be of service to him in
order that he may procure a pension, all that I can say of my own
knowledge is that I discovered he walked a little lame, soon after
the action was over, but I had no opportunity to find out the cause
of it, before we were seperated. I was told about 10 days after
the action by Mr. Kinzie, the stepfather of Mrs. Helm, that Capt.
Helm's wound was very trifling & could not injure him. I have since
seen Mr. Thos. Forsyth with whom Capt. Helm resided for several
mo[n]ths immediately after the action and he told me that Capt.
Helms wound was of no consequence, & that it appeared to be nothing
more than a small flesh wound in one of his heals & did not disable
him in the least.
The statement he made to you respecting the articles he says he
purchased for the troops & advanced the money out of his own funds
to pay for them is entirely false & without the least foundation
imaginable. And If he has any vouchers to support the claim, depend
upon it Sir, they are fraudulent.
Should you wish for my deposition stating my own knowledge of Capt.
Helms
Should you wish for my deposition to support Capt. Helms claim for
a Pension, I am perfectly willing to give it, but I can say nothing
more than I have said in this letter of my own knowledge.
The Honbl. B. Roberts
Member of Congress.
The original manuscript from which the foregoing is taken is the copy
of the letter retained by Heald, and is owned by his granddaughter,
Mrs. Wright Johnson, of Rutherford, N.J.]
After the sources of information derived from the two surviving
officers and their wives follow a number of reports of distinctly
lesser importance which found their way into the newspapers of the
time. Several of these were preserved from oblivion by being reprinted
during the few weeks following the massacre in that general repository
of information, _Niles' Register_. The number of such reports which
require consideration here is small. The news of the fall of Fort
Dearborn was borne to the nearest American settlements more rapidly
than might, in view of all the circumstances, have been expected.
As early as August 28 a report of it was published in the _Western
Courier_, of Louisville.[950] It consisted of an extract from a letter
received at Louisville from an officer of the army who apparently was
at or in the vicinity of Fort Wayne. It stated correctly enough the
leading facts that the fort had been evacuated, the garrison attacked
after marching "about one mile," and that Heald had surrendered on
receiving assurances of mercy for the garrison. It erred, however, in
reporting Heald and his wife among the slain, as well as all but three
of Wells's Miamis. From these three survivors, it was stated, the
information had been gained.
[Footnote 950: A copy of this paper is owned by the Chicago Historical
Society.]
In similar fashion the news of the massacre was carried to Detroit,
now in the hands of the British, about the first of September. The
first printed account from this source is found in _Niles' Register_
for October 3, copied from an earlier number of the _Buffalo Gazette_.
Considering the source of the information, the brief narrative
corresponds more closely to the facts as we know them than might be
expected. A Pottawatomie chief had brought the news to Detroit, from
which place it had been carried eastward by the British warship, the
"Queen Charlotte"; a flag of truce sent ashore at Fort Erie conveyed
the news to the Americans there, from which place, presumably, it was
carried to Buffalo. The account places the number of survivors at ten
or twelve, and, like the Louisville report, includes Captain Heald
among the slain.[951]
[Footnote 951: For other early newspaper reports of the massacre see
Hurlbut, _Chicago Antiquities_, 175-77.]
More important than either of the foregoing is the report which
appeared in the _Missouri Gazette_ of September 19, 1812. It
represents[952] Captain Wells as bringing the order from Hull for the
distribution of the stores among the Indians and the evacuation of the
fort. Heald prepared to comply with the order, but thought prudent to
destroy all the powder and whisky before distributing the goods. The
Indians suspected this, overheard the staving-in of the powder kegs,
and charged Wells with the fact. He denied it, however, and the goods
were distributed to about eight hundred Indians. Signs of discontent
were already manifest among the Indians when on the fourteenth an
Indian runner arrived with a large red belt. He had been sent by Main
Poc, the inveterate enemy of the Americans, who lived on the Kankakee
but who was now fighting with Tecumseh's forces near Maiden. The
message the runner bore acquainted the Indians around Fort Dearborn
with the British successes and Hull's predicament on the Detroit
frontier; it added that a vessel would be dispatched in a few days for
Chicago with goods and ammunition for the Indians, and urged them to
strike the Americans immediately.
[Footnote 952: I have not had access to the paper itself, but have
made use of the copy of the article made by Lyman C. Draper, in the
Draper Collection, S, XXVI, 76.]
This message, added to the discontent over the destruction of the
powder and whisky, precipitated the attack. The next day, about ten
o'clock, the troops, fifty-four in number, with ten citizens, nine
women, and eighteen children, evacuated the fort. After they had gone
about a mile they were attacked by about four hundred Indians, and a
general slaughter ensued. Thirty soldiers, including the doctor and
the ensign, all of the citizens, two women, and twelve children were
torn to pieces. The heart of Wells was torn out and divided among the
different bands. In the midst of the carnage Mrs. Heald had sunk on the
ground and an Indian had a war club raised to drive into her head, when
she was rescued by a young Frenchman who purchased her with a mule.
Heald's captors gave him his liberty, contrary to the wishes of the
other savages. The commander and his wife were given protection in the
house of a trader, where their wounds were dressed, and at the time of
the report they were in process of recovery.
This early report is worthy of notice for several reasons. It is
notably accurate in some respects, and as notably incorrect in others.
The figures given for the participants in the massacre and for the
slain are surprisingly accurate for so early an unofficial report. On
the other hand, while the order for the evacuation is given with a fair
degree of accuracy, the account of its transmission to Fort Dearborn
and the date of its arrival is entirely wrong. It is to be noted that
thus early to the destruction of the ammunition and liquor is ascribed
a large degree of responsibility for the massacre, and that a version
of the ransoming of Mrs. Heald with a mule appears. It is evident
that this report must have come from someone familiar with the facts
concerning the massacre. Although it is not susceptible of proof, the
opinion may be hazarded that this person was Thomas Forsyth, of Peoria,
Kinzie's half-brother. He came to Chicago the day after the massacre,
and started to return to Peoria a few days later.[953] He was active
and enterprising, and not long afterwards was acting as an agent of the
government among the Illinois River Indians. He was well known at St.
Louis, and it seems not unlikely that he would have forwarded thither
at the earliest opportunity an account of what had occurred at Chicago.
[Footnote 953: Letter of Forsyth to Heald, January 2, 1813, _supra_,
note 632.]
Another report of the massacre, published in _Niles' Register_ May
8, 1813, requires more extended consideration. It purports to be an
extract from a letter of Walter Jordan, "a non-commissioned officer of
the Regulars at Fort Wayne," to his wife, October 19, 1812. The writer
claims to have been a member of Wells's relief expedition, and thus
to have been a participant in the Fort Dearborn massacre. According
to the letter Wells left Fort Wayne August 1, accompanied by Jordan
and one hundred "Confute" Indians to escort Heald on his retreat from
Chicago to Fort Wayne, "a distance of 150 miles." Wells reached Chicago
August 10, and on the fifteenth all was in readiness for an immediate
march, all the property that could not be removed having been burned.
The force which evacuated the fort consisted of "Capt. Wells, myself
and 100 Confute Indians, Capt. Heald's 100 men, 10 women, and 20
children--in all 232." After a ten-minute conflict, in the course of
which the "Confute" allies deserted to the enemy, all but fifteen of
the whites were killed. But "thanks be to God," Jordan was numbered
among the survivors. If his escape was as miraculous as the narrative
represents it to have been, his thankfulness was not inappropriate.
First the feather was shot off his cap, then the epaulet from his
shoulder, and finally the handle from his sword. Unwilling, apparently,
to tempt Providence further, Jordan now surrendered to "four savage
rascals." His good fortune did not desert him, however; the Confute
chief, taking him by the hand, assured him his life would be spared,
but invited him to "come and see what we will do with your Captain."
Leading the way to Wells they cut off his head and put it on a pole,
took out his heart, and, having divided it among the chiefs, "ate it
up raw." After this the fifteen survivors were parceled out among the
victors. The band to whom Jordan fell promised, if he would stay with
them, to make a chief of him; if he tried to escape they would burn him
alive. Despite this alternative, having gained their confidence with a
"fine story," Jordan made his escape and reached Fort Wayne on August
26, two days before it was blockaded by the Indians.
If Jordan was in fact a member of Wells's party and this is an
authentic account of the massacre by an eye-witness, it must be
regarded as one of our most valuable sources of information. Its early
date, the detailed description of events, and the precise enumeration
of the forces engaged, combine with its first-hand character to give it
this rank. If, on the other hand, the narrative is not to be accorded
this high estimate, it must be dismissed as a mendacious and worthless
fabrication. The circumstances of the case render the assumption of any
middle ground between these positions impossible.
Turning to Jordan's letter, even a casual inspection compels the
adoption of the latter position. Waiving the question whether such a
person as Walter Jordan ever in fact existed, the complete silence
of all other sources as to his presence in Wells's party and at the
Chicago massacre is enough to rouse grave suspicion concerning the
truth of his story. His misstatements concerning the expedition of
Wells and the massacre itself change this suspicion into certainty.
Neither lapse of time nor second-hand information can be urged in
extenuation of his false statements about the number of Wells's
followers and of Heald's party. Aside from this consideration, the
misstatements as to the time of Wells's trip, the tribe to which his
followers belonged, and the distance from Fort Wayne to Chicago can
hardly be explained on any other hypothesis than that of deliberate
fabrication. Surely "a non-commissioned officer of the Regulars at Fort
Wayne" would not substitute for the Miamis a purely imaginary tribe of
Indians, having no existence outside the pages of his letter. A more
Falstaffian tale than that of Jordan's miraculous escape from death, or
a more improbable one than that detailing the circumstances attending
the death of Wells would be difficult to imagine. Further refutation of
the narrative is unnecessary, nor would it deserve the space that has
already been devoted to it but for the fact that some have been misled
into a belief in its reliability.
The correspondence of Judge Woodward of Detroit with General Proctor
relative to the survivors of the massacre constitutes a source of
information of the highest quality.[954]' With the massacre itself,
however, it deals only incidentally, being limited to a consideration
of the survivors and the means of rescuing them from captivity.
Woodward was perhaps the most prominent citizen of Detroit and Michigan
Territory, noted for his eccentricity and his ability. On the arrival
of Captain Heald and his wife and Sergeant Griffith at Detroit early in
October, Woodward set himself the task of gaining all the information
they could give him concerning the losses in the battle and the
survivors of the massacre, and this information he incorporated a few
days later in a vigorous letter to Proctor, the British commander
at Detroit, appealing to him to take all the measures in his power
to recover the unfortunate captives. It is probable that Heald and
Griffith could not speak with entire accuracy concerning the losses
sustained and the number of these survivors, but they were of course
able to give Woodward valuable information on the subject; and his
letter to Proctor constitutes one of our most valuable sources of
information concerning it.
[Footnote 954: For Woodward's letter to Proctor, October 7, 1812, see
Appendix VII.]
An account of the massacre drawn in large part from the same source as
Woodward's information, but written a few years later, is contained
in McAfee's _History of the Late War_, published in 1816. McAfee was
a Kentuckian and himself a soldier in the war, having served as an
officer in the regiment of Colonel Richard M. Johnson. Because of this,
and because his information was largely gathered from participants in
the events described, his history possesses much of the flavor of a
first-hand narrative. McAfee gives a short account of the destruction
of Fort Dearborn, based on information received from Sergeant Griffith,
who was also a member of Johnson's regiment. The narrative, being thus
second-hand, is open to criticism in certain respects, but the chief
occasion for regret is that McAfee's purpose was satisfied with so
brief an account; for the source of his information, the early date of
the history, and the character of McAfee as a historian all tend to
the belief that had it suited his purpose to enter more fully into the
account of Fort Dearborn, a narrative of great value would have been
produced.
We come, after these contemporary accounts, to the recollections and
reminiscences told in old age by participants, or relatives or friends
of participants, in the massacre. Some of these have proved to be of
considerable value for the reconstruction of our story, but in most
sources of this character the traces of time and of failing memory
are plainly to be seen. Moreover, some of them are affected by the
narrator's personal friendships or antipathies, and given in support
or contradiction of some partisan account. Few of them are or pretend
to be more than fragmentary accounts of the battle. Among such sources
may be mentioned the testimony of Black Hawk,[955] of Shabbona,[956] of
Joseph Bourassa,[957] and of Paul De Garmo.[958]
[Footnote 955: Black Hawk, _Life_, 42.]
[Footnote 956: _Wisconsin Historical Collections_, VII, 416-18.]
[Footnote 957: Draper Collection, S, XXIII, 165 ff.]
[Footnote 958: De Garmo's story is contained in a letter of Charles A.
Lamb, August 24, 1803, MS in the Chicago Historical Society library.]
Logically belonging in the same class as the foregoing, but requiring
in each case more extended consideration, are the narratives of
Alexander Robinson, of Moses Morgan, and of Susan Simmons Winans.
Robinson was one of the chiefs in the massacre who was friendly to
the whites and did what he might to save them. He it was who piloted
the Healds and Sergeant Griffith in their three-hundred-mile canoe
voyage from the St. Joseph River to Mackinac. He was one of the last
survivors of the massacre, living in the immediate vicinity of Chicago
until 1872, and well known to the generation of Chicagoans before the
great fire. For some reason the first generation of writers upon early
Chicago history did not take the trouble to secure from Robinson his
version of the massacre. A manuscript which purports to contain his
story of the affair is, however, in the possession of the Chicago
Historical Society. The information contained in it purports to have
been secured by Carl A. Dilg in a series of interviews with the
daughter of Robinson some time after the chief's death. Dilg considered
it of great importance, but a careful study of it compels the
conclusion that it possesses practically no historical value. It was
not put in writing until three-quarters of a century had elapsed; more
important, Robinson himself was illiterate, and the story, third-hand
at best, was elicited from his daughter in a series of interviews
extending over several years, by a man whose prejudices were so violent
and methods of work so unscientific as to render confidence in its
reliability impossible.
The account of Susan Simmons Winans, of great value from one point
of view, must, for the actual affair of the massacre, be classed
with the story of Robinson. Mrs. Winans, the infant daughter of John
Simmons, was saved by her mother from the slaughter at the wagons. Both
mother and child appeared as if from the dead in April, 1813, after a
series of adventures which recall the age of miracles and providential
protection. Mrs. Simmons lived until 1857, and her daughter, Mrs.
Winans, until 1900, being the last known survivor of the massacre. Both
mother and daughter frequently narrated to their relatives the story
of their captivity, the daughter's knowledge having been derived, of
course, from her mother. A relative. Doctor N. Simmons, the son of a
brother of John Simmons, moved by family pride in the narrative and
possessed of some slight literary ability, published in 1896 a small
volume which contained, in addition to the story of his kinsfolk, a
sketch of the massacre and of the Pottawatomie tribe of Indians.[959]
The account of the massacre is a reprint of Edward G. Mason's narrative
in his _Chapters from Illinois History_, and the volume is of value
solely for the account it gives of the captivity and later life of Mrs.
Simmons and her daughter.
[Footnote 959: Simmons, N., _Heroes and Heroines of the Fort Dearborn
Massacre_.]
Finally, we may consider the massacre narrative of Moses Morgan as
preserved by William R. Head. Among the workmen who helped to build the
second Fort Dearborn in 1816 was Moses Morgan, foreman of a gang of
carpenters. He had served as a volunteer in Hull's army in 1812, and
after his exchange from the captivity consequent upon the surrender
of Detroit, had re-entered the service as a carpenter. He soon became
a foreman, and in this capacity assisted in the building of Commodore
Perry's fleet on Lake Erie. In 1816 he was ordered to accompany the
troops sent to rebuild the fort at Chicago. In later life he became the
neighbor at Carlinville, Ill., of William R. Head, who for many years
before his death in 1910 was a resident of Chicago. Head early became
interested in local history, and for a period of forty years was a
tireless collector of data pertaining to early Chicago and Illinois.
Among other things, he recorded the story told him by Moses Morgan.
It contains many details not found elsewhere, and if it were of such
a character that these could be relied upon, it would constitute an
exceedingly valuable source of information.
Unfortunately, however, it exhibits many defects. The account
was written out by Head late in life from notes taken and from
recollections of his various conversations with Morgan many years
before. Head, like Dilg, was lacking in historical training, while
he held a number of theories concerning the massacre and possessed a
violent antipathy for everything connected with the Kinzie family. In
his old age he undertook a revision of his manuscript, which further
militated against its reliability; finally, to complete the tale of
defects, after his death the mass of notes and other material which
he had accumulated, and by which the correctness of his statements
might to some extent have been tested, was burned as rubbish by his
family. Because of the unreliable character of the narrative but little
dependence can be placed upon it, particularly in those portions which
involve Head's theories or his prejudices. Yet it seems possible to
trust some of its statements and accordingly some use has been made of
it in the present work. There is no reason to question the character
and integrity of either Morgan or Head, or to suppose that either
consciously misrepresented the facts. The more reliable portion of the
narrative has been utilized in the chapter on the fate of the survivors
of the massacre. The part which deals with the tragedy itself is given
here because of its human interest, in spite of a lack of confidence in
its historical worth.
When the garrison came, in the summer of 1816, to rebuild the fort,
many evidences of the massacre were still to be seen. Many attempts
were made by the officers to get an exact account of the destruction of
the first fort from the Indians and the half-breeds who knew the facts.
No dependence, however, could be placed upon their statements. Previous
to the coming of the troops some of these residents had boasted of
the part they had taken in the slaughter. For obvious reasons their
denials were now as strenuous as their former boasting had been loud.
It was found that tales of the fight were being manufactured by
the interpreters, and some of them were dismissed, but without any
favorable results in the form of desired information.
One account was obtained by a soldier's wife from Okra, Ouilmette's
wife, and a half-breed French woman. These women had, they said,
watched the departure of the troops from the fort. From a favorable
vantage point on the north side of the river where Ouilmette's hut
stood they had watched the troops march out, the Captain and his wife
being the last to leave. There were two army wagons, one containing the
women and children and the personal baggage, drawn by Lee's horses; to
the other, laden with ammunition and provisions, three pairs of steers
were yoked. Soon the women heard the sound of firing and smelled the
powder smoke, but from their position on the north side of the river
they were unable to see the fight.
Another and fuller story was obtained from a wounded soldier
of Heald's command who was found, under circumstances already
described,[960] living a few miles up the North Branch. In presenting
the details, it should be noted that they bear throughout the imprint
of Head's theories and prejudices. There were not provisions enough for
a long siege. The garrison should not have left so soon. Kinzie was not
faithful in his interpretations. Lieutenant Helm was so drunk on the
morning of August 15 that he was not able to retain his place in line.
There were two wagons, one of which was guarded by the militia and the
soldiers who had children. The troops marched out close to the water's
edge, and when the wagons had gone a short distance beyond the mouth
of the river two half-grown Pottawatomie boys began shooting at the
animals hitched to the wagons, wounding one of the horses and causing
it to lie down. The steers attached to the army wagon turned quickly
around, breaking the wagon-pole, and half overturning the wagon. For
a time the men about the wagons stood patiently in line surrounded by
a group of friendly Indians. Then the strange Indians, not finding
the ammunition and provisions in the fort, came rushing down upon the
wagons. As they came on the men gave three volleys, killing many of
them. The surrender was made by the Captain to Black Bird, and the
valuables and money were given under a promise of protection for the
men. The Captain and a sergeant were turned over to Robinson to be
saved for their money. The general opinion when Morgan left Chicago was
that the delay caused by the Indian boys' attack upon the teams was the
chief reason why the party did not escape; that the attack upon the
wagons took place beyond the mouth of the river; and that the ensign
made a mistake in commanding his men to fire so quickly.
[Footnote 960: _Supra_, pp. 260-61.]
APPENDIX III
NATHAN HEALD'S JOURNAL[961]
[Footnote 961: Printed for the first time from the original manuscript
among the Heald papers in the Draper Collection at Madison, Wis. The
Journal was kept by Heald in a small blank book about 3 × 6 inches in
size. It contains in addition to the autobiographical matter presented
here a number of pages of memoranda consisting of military data,
financial entries, medical and household recipes, and so forth.]
Nathan Heald, the son of Thomas Heald & Sibyl, his wife, was born
in New Ipswich in the state of New Hampshire the 24th of September
1775, and entered the army of the U. States as an Ensign the 2nd of
March 1799. In the spring of 1800 went to Springfield in Mass. on the
Recruiting Service.
In the spring of 1801 left Springfield with a Detachment of Recruits
under the command of Capt. Lyman to join the western Army, and arrived
at Wilkinson Ville on the Ohio early in the fall of the same year. Left
Wilkinson Ville late in the fall of the same year, with a Detachment
of 4 Companies of Inf under the Command of Capt. R. Bissell & went up
Tennessee River 2 or 3 miles above the mouth of Bear Creek, built a
cantonment &c.
In the spring of 1802, a part of the Army being disbanded, I went to
Vincennes with a Detachment of Capt. Lyman's company to join that post.
In the spring of 1803, went on Command to Detroit with Gov'r Harrison,
& returned to Vincennes the next fall, having been sick at Detroit all
summer.
In the beginning of 1804, went to Chilicothe Ohio on the Recruiting
service; spent the summer following at Maysville Ky on the same service
& returned to Vincennes in the fall of the same year.
In the spring of 1805, went to Fort Massack where I commanded till
late in the fall of the same year when I sat out on furlough for
Concord Mass. and arrived there in January 1806. Attended a Genl.
Court Martial as a Member on the seaboard in New Hampshire the same
winter, and went to New London Conn, on the Recruiting service with
Cap. Stoddard in the spring. Left New London late in the summer & went
to New Brunswick N.J. on the same service, & in the fall, was ordered
to Fort Wayne, by the way of Philadelphia where I joined Capt. Stoddard
with a Detachment of Recruits & went with him to Newport on the Ohio,
then by myself to Fort Wayne, where I arrived and took the command in
Jan. 7 1807. On the 31st of that month & the same year was promoted to
a Capt. in 1st Reg't Infantry.
In the spring of 1807 went to Detroit to sit on a Gen'l Court Martial &
returned to Fort Wayne in the summer.
In June 1810 left Fort Wayne & went to Chicago to Command that Post,
went on furlough to Massachusetts in the fall of the same year and
returned by the way of Kentucky where I was married to Rebecca Wells
the daughter of Gen'l Samuel Wells and Mary his wife, on the 23d of May
1811, and arrived at Chicago in June with Mrs. Heald.
On the 4th of May 1812, we had a son born dead for the want of a
skilful Midwife.
On the 9th of Augt, 1812, rec'd orders from Genl Wm. Hull to evacuate
the Post of Chicago and proceed with my Command to Detroit.
On the 15th Marched for Detroit & was attacked by about 500 Indians
two miles from the Fort and there was killed in the action 1 Ensign, 1
Surgeon's Mate, 24 Non-Commissioned Officers Musicians & Privates, 12
Militia including Capt. Wells of the Indian Department at Fort Wayne,
2 Women & 12 Children. Myself, one Lieut. 25 Non-Commiss. Officers
Musicians & Privates and eleven Women & Children were captured by the
Indians. On the 16th, that is the day after [the] action, Mrs. Heald
& myself were taken to the St. Joseph River by our new Masters. The
journey was performed in three days by coasting the Lake (Michigan)
and we remained with them (both being badly wounded & unable to help
ourselves) till the 29 of the same Month when we took our departure for
Michilimackinac in a Birch Canoe, with Sergeant Griffith, one of the
unfortunate prisoners, and 3 Frenchmen & a Squaw. The 14th of Sept.
we all arrived safe at Michilimackinac. I was there Paroled by Capt.
Roberts, the British Comma[n]dant, & permitted to proceed to Detroit
with Mrs. Heald & the Sergeant.
Left the Island on the 19th of the month (Sept.) and arrived at
Detroit the 22nd--was there permitted by Capt. Proctor to proceed to
the U. States on Parole. Left Detroit the 4th of October, and arrived
at Buffalon the 8th in the old Brigg Adams. Left Buffalon the 10th and
arrived at Pittsburg the 22nd.
Left Pittsburgh the 8th Nov. and arrived at Louisville the 19th.
The distance from Chicago to Michilimackinac in coasting the Lake
on the east side is 400 miles
Thence to Detroit 300
Thence to Buffalon 280
Thence to Erie by land 90
Thence to Pittsburgh by land but we travelled by water 132
Thence to Louisville by water 705
----
Total 1907
On the 26th of August 1812, I was promoted to a Major in the 4th Regt.
Inf'y.