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LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN
977.336 Sm6r
I .H.S.
Smith, Seraphina Gardner Ed. Recollections of the pioneer of Lee county.
(Title taken from Illinois historical collections. Yol. 9 p. 325)
THIS LITTLE BOOK IS
DEDICATED TO THE CHILDREN OF THE PIONEERS,
BY THE
LEE COUNTY COLUMBIAN CLUB.
A Tale of the Airly Days.
Oh! tell me a tale of the airly days, Of the times as they ust to be;
"Pillar of Fire," and "Shakespeare's Plays," Is a 'most too deep for me! I want plain facts, and I want plain words, Of good old-fashioned ways,
When speech run free as the songs of birds, 'Way back in the airly days.
Tell me a tale of the timber lands, And the old-time pioneers- Somepin' a pore man understands With his feelins', well as ears. Tell of the old log house-about The loft, and the puncheon floor-
The old flre-place, with the crane swung on, And the latch stringtthrough the door,
Tell of the things just like they wuz- They don't need no excuse; -
Don't tetch 'em up like the poets does Till they're all too fine for use! Say they wuz 'leven in the family- Two beds and the chist below, And the trundle-beds, 'at each helt three; And the clock and the old bureau.
Then blow the horn at the old back door Till the echoes all hallo,
And the children gathers home onc't more, Jest as they ust to do; Blow for Pap till he hears and comes, With Tomps and Elias, too,
A marchin' home, with the fife and drums And the old Red, White and Blue!
Blow and blow till the sound draps low As the moan of the whipperwill, And wake up Mother, and Ruth, and Jo, All sleepin' at Bethel Hill; Blow and call till the faces all Shine out in the back-log's blaze,
And the shadders dance on the old hewn wall As they did in the airly days. -JAS. WHITCOMB RILEY.
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977.336 Sm Gr
I'll Hist. Aura. 3 ,
BY WAY OF INTRODUCTION.
When a stranger taps at our door we naturally expect to be told his name and errand, and if he wishes to become an inmate of our home, something of his history.
To those, therefore, who care to become better acquainted with this little book, we will tell something of its birth and parentage.
The Lee County Columbian Club, in common with others throughout the entire state, was organized by an officer of the Illinois Woman's Expo- sition Board-for the purpose of opening communication with all parts of the county, of securing, for the various departments of the great expo- sition any and every item in our county which would add to its interest or give evidence of the history, growth, resources, culture, or natural feat- ures of the county. . Also to facilitate communication with the State Board; to encourage the study of the Exposition; awakening interest and enabling us to enjoy it more intelligently.
At one of our earliest meetings Miss Elizabeth J. Shaw spoke with much earnestness of the great historic events which are connected with Lee County, making it a point of interest not only to the state, but to the nation.
This led to her being requested to prepare a sketch of those events, for the instruction and entertainment of the Club.
We also wished to commemorate these events in some way by a county exhibit at the Exposition, and decided to offer a window, on which should be suitably represented, as a center panel, Father Dixon's cabin, the first white man's home on Rock River, and on either side of it pictures of Father Dixon and of Black-Hawk, types of the advancing and receding races.
That such an exhibit would have been an appropriate and beautiful one, is beyond doubt. That the plan met with insurmountable difficul- ties and was reluctantly abandoned is a source of inexpressible and unceasing regret-but such was the case, and we record it here that there may be at least this proof of the taste which proposed, and the cheerful willingness which would have carried out the project had it been possible.
Meantime the Club had listened to Miss Shaw's admirable paper, (which forms a chapter in this book, ) and to a second by Mrs. Chase, of Amboy, on the "Pioneer Women" of that township, which so awakened interest that we began to realize the opportunity for co-operation afforded by the county organization and to ask that similar papers be gathered from the entire county.
We asked for papers referring to facts and experiences in pioneer life- especially that of the pioneer women, which had not already been recorded in the various histories of the county, endeavoring to make them more like the fireside chat of old friends than a mere formal record of names
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and events. In many cases the response was at once generous and sympathetic; friends caught up the spirit of the enterprise and gave us papers that will delight you as they have us; others equally willing did not realize that stories of pioneer women were most desired, cr, perhaps, thought with the good old deacon, that "the brethren always embraced the sisters;" or feared, as another deacon did in regard to heaven "that there'd be so many more women than men, that it wouldn't be interest- ing," but they wrote delightful papers in the masculinegender, and they. too, will give you pleasure.
But alas! many others equally willing and anxious for our success "would gladly aid us but it was so long ago they had forgotten, etc., etc." One of our best contributors says: "Sometimes I gave up, here; some- times I followed them up with a "Columbian Shorter Catechism," and in this way I became possessed of some interesting and picturesque incidents. At one time about all I could get was 'the way they heated the water to scald the hogs.' I thought if our book lived and should ever reach those whom we shall never live to see, my part of it would be those hot rocks a thunderin' down the ages!"
Others wrote more formal particulars, but all have been preserved and all are of interest.
When we were obliged to abandon our hope of the window, it was too late to attempt any other project, so we decided to collect all this material at once, and publish it as a book for our exhibit.
Not that it is as desirable an exhibit as the window would have been, or as it might have been made had we known the end from the beginning but we had no better resource.
So, whether you see it among the varied exhibits at the great exposi- tion or place it among your household treasures, this is its history, and it is yours as well as ours. It is not all we wished or hoped, probably not all that you expect, but if you are inclined to criticise the omission of any matter remember that the omission is your own. If you say," why did you not put in this, or that?" we shall address the question to you, in reply. Such as has been given us, we give you, wishing no less than you that it was more complete.
Look upon its failings then, with allowance, drop a tear on the sad pages, and laugh with your children over the merry ones. Teach them how true it is, and that it was written for them. Then we shall feel that the mission of our little book has been fulfilled, for as Webster says: "Those who do not look upon themselves as a link connecting the past with the present, do not perform their duty to the world."
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J. Manz & Co . Circaao
INDIAN CAMPING GROUND NEAR BINGHAMPTON.
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The Township of Amboy. By Mrs. D. G. GBase.
The First Inhabitants.
M IDWAY between Chicago and the Mississippi River, in north lati- tude, between 41 and 42 degrees and in west longitude 12 degrees and 30 minutes, lies Lee County. Fifty years ago the Indians roamed at large over the vast billows of prairie land, glided up and down the silvery streams in the light canoe, and lodged beneath the protecting branches of the beautiful trees that bordered the winding rivers. No boundary line of town or county then intersected this part of Illinois. Since 1680 the Illinois country had been subject to France or Great Britain, and not until 1783 had the United States claimed possession of it. Even then the Starry Flag waved aloft in imagination only, for no white man had claimed its protection. As late as 1818 the settled part of the state extended only a little north of Alton. A remnant of the French Colony founded by LaSalle in 1680, many of whom had intermarried with the Indians; and American emigrants, chiefly from Kentucky, Virginia and Pennsylvania, had increased the population of Southern Illinois to the number of twelve thousand. These, strengthened with the aid of one company of regular soldiers, resisted, in the war of 1812, the combined encroachments of the English with the Kickapoos, Sacs, Foxes, Potta- wattomies, Winnebagoes and Shawnees. These tribes still encamped at intervals in Northern Illinois, and not until after the close of the Black Hawk war in 1831 and 1832, when the Indians were relegated to their claims beyond the Mississippi river, was this portion of the state open for the peaceful abode of the white man. Here, a few miles east of us, lived Shabbona, chief of the Pottawattomies, with his tribe, and Black Hawk, chief of the Sacs, dwelt at the junction of Rock River and the Missis- sippi, while farther north were the Winnebagoes, and farther south the Kickapoos and Shawnees.
The atrocities and treacheries of the Indian have been commented upon until every one has sufficient information in that direction, and we will turn to other characteristics not as often described; and as this
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section of the state of Illinois was inhabited by the tribes above men- tioned and the Foxes, (as named by the French, but called Ottogamies by the other Indian tribes), we will direct our attention to what we can learn of them; our predecessors on these prairies. Here in our groves and beside our streams they built their lodges, hunted and fished, fought, loved and died, while down in the southern part of Illinois, as in south- ern Indiana, Kentucky and Missouri, the first faint gleams of the dawn of civilization were beginning to illumine the green and flowery wilder- ness of the Great West. Here and there, miles apart, the rising smoke from the solitary cabin would send a gleam of hope to a weary traveler, or a ray of light from some lonely hut would beckon the benighted wanderer to the comfort and joy of human companionship. It is true that in these wild regions the human beings were sometimes inhuman, and the unhappy explorer found a terrible welcome; but far, far oftener the mercy which had come from heaven met him, and having been shel- tered, warmed and fed, he proceeded on his way to untried fields beyond. Year after year brought new inhabitants, and farther and farther west and north the pioneer opened up a high-way for multitudes, in time, to follow, and to reach, at last, the homes of the red men here. The hard- ships of those who led the way to civilization there, were soon to be borne by the brave spirits who inaugurated prosperity for us here, and before this story is ended, we shall see with admiration what noble men and women were led forth by the unseen hand to prepare the way for us who followed. One short extract describing pioneer life in Southern Illinois and adjacent territory years before the pioneers had reached here, and then we will tarry awhile with the original "settlers" before we take up the histories of our own. It is from the autobiography of Peter Cart- right, the renowned itinerant Methodist preacher who commenced his labors in 1804, at the age of nineteen years, and continued them for sixty years; and whose circuit extended 600 miles, and who is said to have preached 18,000 sermons.
"We killed our meat-out of the woods, wild, and beat our meal and hominy with a pestle and mortar. We stretched a deer skin over a hoop, burned holes in it with the prongs of a fork, sifted our meal, baked bread eat it, and it was first rate eating, too. We raised or gathered out of the woods our own tea. We had sage, bohea, cross-bone, spice and sassafras teas in abundance. We made our sugar out of the water of the maple tree, and our molasses too. These were great luxuries in those days. Ministers of different denominations came in and preached through the country; but the Methodist preachers were the pioneer messengers of salvation in these ends of the earth. People unacquainted with frontier
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life fifty or sixty years ago, can form but a very imperfect idea of the sufferings and hardships the early settlers of these western states under- went at that day, when Methodist preachers went from fort to fort, from camp to camp, from tent to tent, from cabin to cabin, with or without road or path. We walked on dirt floors, sat on stools or benches for chairs, ate on puncheon tables, had forked sticks and pocket or butcher knives for knives and forks, slept on bear, deer or buffalo skins before the fire, sometimes on the ground in open air for downy beds, had our saddles or saddle-bags for pillows of feathers; and one new suit of clothes of home spun was ample clothing for one year for an early Meth- odist preacher in the west. We crossed creeks and large rivers without bridges or ferryboats, often swam them on horseback or crossed on trees that had fallen over the streamr, drove our horses over and often waded over waist deep, and if by chance. we got a dugout or canoe to cross in ourselves, and swim our horses by, it was quite a treat. The above course of training was the colleges in which we early Methodist preachers grad- uated and from which we took our diplomas. Here we solved our mathematical problems, declined our nouns and conjugated our verbs, parsed our sentences, and became proficient in the dead languages of the Indian and back-woods dialect."
The Abbe 'em, Domenech, a missionary to the Indians, has given an account of some of the customs, traditions and legends of those tribes, which from having once inhabited this part of Illinois, are of greatest interest to us. He described many lovely and beautiful traits in these poor untutored children of the wilderness, and translated sonre of their songs and legends, specimens of which are introduced here.
Those who have read the life of Black Hawk will recollect his long and heavy mourning for his departed children, and also, that his greatest sorrow and regret in leaving the country, which had been ceded to the whites, was in bidding adieu to the graves of his ancestors.
One historian who had known the Indians well, speaks of their great tenderness for their children. Not having any regular time for eating, and depending much on wild game for sustenance, they are sometimes a long time without food, as the hunters are not always successful. Somre- times the father returns home without sufficient game to supply the family, in which case the parents invariably continue their own fasting while all which has been taken is given to the children.
Black is the sign of mourning anrong Indians as among us. Among several of these northern tribes, a woman who has lost a child in the cradle, places it in its little wicker bed which she has fitted with black feathers, and carries it about with her for one whole year, in all her
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emigrations, places it in her cabin, speaks to it and sings, gay or sad, as if the child were still alive and could smile and answer her. The widows of the Fox Indians remain several months without changing their clothes or giving any care to their dress. This custom is common in many tribes of the north.
The Sacs and Foxes place their dead, wrapped in blankets or buffalo . skins, in rude coffins made of old canoes or the bark of trees and bury them. If the deceased was a warrior, a post is erected above his head painted with red bars, indicating the number of men, women and chil- dren he has killed during his life and who are to be his slaves in the land of shadows.
The grief of these children of the desert has in it something so touch- ing and simple that it strikes even the coldest hearts ;- and often they are seen talking, weeping or singing by their graves as if the dead could hear them.
Although some of the Indians are very poetical, the sweet cadences of measured rhyme have never been known among them, but like the Orientals they chant their songs of love or of war. "The finest song known" is the one improvised and sung by the celebrated Chippewa Chief Onaoubogie before and after a great victory which he had gained over the Sioux, the Foxes and the Sacs. The translation is by the Abbe' em Domenech.
A chief of a tribe not having a permanent army at his command, is obliged to have recourse to voluntary enlistment whenever he wishes to declare war against a hostile tribe. Then, through the medium of couriers whom he sends to every lodge and village of his nation, he assembles all the men capable of bearing arms; after which, in a pre- paratory ceremony, he extemporizes a few stanzas of energetic poetry, which he sings with fiery enthusiasm gesticulating and accompanying himself with the drum and raquetts. The auditors' imagination is gradually excited by all they hear; they become animated with the war- like ardor of their chieftain, and generally finish by enlisting en masse to fight and die under his command.
ONAOUBOGIE'S WAR SONG.
"Hearken to my voice, you brave heroes! The day is coming when our warriors Will fall upon our cowardly enemics. My heart burns with a just vengence Against the cruel, treacherous race Of the Sioux the Foxes and the Sacs.
Here, my breast is covered with blood. Behold! behold the wounds caused by the conflict!
Mountains tremble at my cries!
I fight! Istrike! I kill!
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But where are my enemies? they are dying,
They fly in the prairie like foxes;
They tremble like the leaves during a tempest, Perfidous dogs! you have burnt our children. We will hunt during five winters,
And we shall mourn for our massacred warriors
Until our youths having become men,
Shall be instructed for war.
Then will our days end like those of our fathers. You are no more noble warriors, you are gone.
My brother, my companion, my friend,
To the path of death, where all the brave go;
But we live to avenge you
And we will die as died our ancestors."
When the son of a warrior wishes to get married, "he takes his flute and goes at night towards the cabin wherein she rests whom he has chosen for his future spouse !" He begins by playing a melancholy tune; then he sings words of his own composition which enumerate the charms of his beloved. He likens her to the sweet perfumes of the wild flowers, to the pure water that flows from the rocks, to the graceful trees of the forests, and to the verdant banks of the river in which she bathes. He afterwards promises her a long series of happy days in his wigwam, until the hour when they should depart for the enchanted prairies, where joy is without end.
The following is selected by Abbe' em Domenech from a great number of Indian love chants that had become popular on the prairies, and trans- lated by him.
"My Dove's eye, listen to the sound of my flute; Hearken to the voice of my songs, it is my voice. Do not blush, all thy thoughts are known to me. I have my magic shield, thou canst not escape. I shall always draw thee to me, even shouldst thou be In the most distant Isle, beyond the great lakes. I am mighty by my strength and valor.
Listen, my betrothed, it is to thy heart that I speak. * * * * * *
The finest bears of the prairies shall become my prey, I will exchange horses for necklaces;
Thy moccasins shall become shining beads. Fly not from me; I will go even up to the clouds to keep thee.
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The Great Spirit is for me, my betrothed;
Hearken to the voice of my song, it is my voice."
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We have given two specimens of Indian poetry, one of war, the other of love. The two poems which follow were improvised and sung by In- dian women. In the village, as in the forests, when the child wishes to sleep its mother suspends the cot in which it lies, and which she has or- namented with the greatest care, to a beam or to a branch; she then rocks it to and fro, singing a song which is either extemporized or be- come popular from habit. The literal translation of the song given
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ANOTHER INDIAN CAMPING GROUND NEAR BINGHAMPTON.
Mani& Co
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below being impossible, the translator was oblige to be content with reproducing the sense, and not word for word of the original.
"Balance, balance thou pretty cot, Roll on, roll on aerial wave;
Sleep, sleep. baby. sleep, sleep, For thy mother watches over thee.
It is she who will ever rock thee, Sleep, sleep, baby, sleep. slecp.
Little darling, thou art thy mother's love, Sleep. sleep, my child, sleep, sleep.
Tiny cradle, balance, balance, Rock my baby near me;
Sweet darling do not weep. For thy mother watches over thee.
Roll on, roll on, aerial wave. Gently rock my sleeping babe;
His mother is near him watching That he may not be alone,
Wave in the air thou pretty cot; Wave, wave, sweet little child."
The musical beauty of the Indian words repeated oft as in the song is said to constitute an indescribable charm.
Many can doubtless recall the sad story of the Indian woman who, distracted and heart-broken at having been abandoned by her husband, embarked in a canoe with her baby, and allowed herself to perish in the St. Anthony Falls. When she saw that the current carried off her frail skiff, and that all hope of life was lost, she rose, holding her infant in her arms, and began to sing in a solemn and sad air the following words:
"It was for him whom I solely cherished with all the love of my heart;
It was for him that I prepared the freshly killed game and that my cabin was so daintily bedecked;
It was for him that I tanned the skin of the noble stag and that I em- broidered the moccasins which adorn his feet.
Every day at sunrise I anxiously awaited the return of him whom I loved;
My heart beat with joy as soon as I heard the step of my brave hunts- man;
He would throw down his load at the door of my cabin-it was a deer. and I would hasten to prepare it for the repast.
My heart was attached to my spouse, and to me his love was more than all the world;
But he has forsaken me for another and now life has become a bur- den to me which I can no longer support;
My child is also a grief to my heart, for he is so like him.
How can I endure life when all its moments are so cruel and so polgn- ant to me!
I have elevated my voice towards the Master of Life; I have besought Him to take back the life He had given me, for I wish for it no longer. I am going on with the current that carries me off, and that will sat- isfy my desire and my prayers
I see the waters foaming. I see it gush forth impetuously, it shall be my shroud.
I hear the deep murmurs of the gulf,-it is my funeral song, Farewell! Farewell!"
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The Sacs and Foxes, as well as several other tribes, believe that at the time of the deluge, a man and woman remained on the summit of a high mountain, after all the rest of the human race were drowned. When the waters subsided the Great Spirit took pity on these two beings, and sent them fire by the raven whose plumage was then white; the raven, having stopped to feed on the carcass of a buffalo, let the fire die out, and returned to heaven to fetch more. Then the Great Spirit as a pun- ishment, changed the color of its feathers from white to black and gave the fire to another bird, which carried it faithfully to its destination without stopping. Different tribes have varieties of the same traditions more or less embellished, and which it is useless to introduce here.
At every step in the study of the religion of the Indians, one perceives that if not of Hebrew origin it is, at least, strongly imbued with Biblical tradition, more or less perverted by the fantastic and vivid imagination of these simple beings with their passionate love for all that is marvelous.
Some authors equally distinguished for their erudition and their practical knowledge of the Indians, have looked upon the legend we are about to relate, as a distorted reminiscence of the redemption which was sealed upon Calvary.
Ascending the Mississippi, a little above St. Louis, between Alton and the Illinois river, there is a narrow pass confined between two high hills, at the bottom of which runs the Piusa, a rivulet which flows into the river. At this place is a smooth, perpendicular rock, upon which at two or three yards hight an immense image of a bird with out- spread wings is chiseled on the stone. This image, from which the streamlet takes its name, is called by the Indians, Piusa, that is to say, the man-devouring bird, and is thus named from the circumstance that follows.
" Many thousand moons befor the arival of the white men, Nanabush. the benevolent intercessor for mankind, destroyed the great Mammouth or Mastodon, the bones of which are still to be found in many parts of America. At that time there was a bird of such prodigious strength
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and size, that he could easily carry away a stag in his talons. This bird having once tasted of human flesh, from that time forward, would eat no other food. He was as cunning as he was strong; he used to make a sudden dart at an Indian, carry hini away to one of his caves in the rock, and there devour him at leisure. Hundreds of warriors had been unsuccessful in their attempts to destroy him. Entire villages were thus laid to waste by him, and terror was spread among the tribes of Illinois. At length Outaga, a warrior chief, whose renown extended far beyond the great lakes, withdrew from the rest of his tribe, spent a whole month in fasting and solitude, and prayed to the Great Spirit to deliver his children from the fangs of Piusa. During the last night, the Great Spirit appeared to him in a dream, and commanded him to select twenty warriors, and to hide them in a place which he pointed out to him, each man being armed with a bow and a poisoned arrow. One warrior alone was to show himself openly, and become a victim to the winged monster, at whom all the others were to let fly their arrows, the moment the bird fastened on its prey.
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