USA > Illinois > Marshall County > Records of the olden time; or, Fifty years on the prairies. Embracing sketches of the discovery, exploration and settlement of the country, the organization of the counties of Putnam and Marshall, biographies of citizens, portraits and illustrations > Part 6
USA > Illinois > Putnam County > Records of the olden time; or, Fifty years on the prairies. Embracing sketches of the discovery, exploration and settlement of the country, the organization of the counties of Putnam and Marshall, biographies of citizens, portraits and illustrations > Part 6
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The prairies were supposed to be bleak, cold and inhospitable, and covered with a rank grass of no value, while the streams were lined with thickets, the homes of fierce beasts and deadly reptiles. It was a paradise for Indians, but a poor place for white men. But when he saw the coun- try rapidly filling up, and the new settlers growing rich, comfortable and
* Ford's History of Illinois.
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RECORDS OF THE OLDEN TIME.
happy, he changed his opinion, and coming West, settled in Tazewell County in 1828.
When the State was admitted, the Government ordered a survey of the country bordering the Illinois, and its division into townships. The work was performed by Stephen, Stycia, and Charles Rector, in the years 1819-20. It was further divided into sections by Nelson Piper, George Thomas and J. F. McCollum, and all of the northern part of the State named Sangamon County. .
PEORIA IN 1778.
The messenger sent by General Clark found a large town built along the margin of the lake, with narrow streets and wooden houses. Back of the town were gardens, yards for stock, barns, etc., and among these was a wine-press, with a large cellar or underground vault for storing wine. There was a church, with a large wooden cross, an unoccupied fort on the bank of the lake, and a wind-mill for grinding grain. The town contained six stores, filled with goods suitable for the Indian trade. The inhabitants were French creoles, Indians and half-breeds, not one of whom could speak a word of English. Many of them had intermarried with the natives, and their posterity to this day show certain characteristics of their Indian ancestry. They were a peaceable, quiet people, ignorant and superstitious. They had no public schools, and but few of them, except priests and traders, could read or write. In after years there was consid- erable trouble about conflicting titles, growing out of certain "French grants," and out of eighteen litigants but three could sign their nanies." Some of their merchants made annual trips in canoes to Canada, carrying peltries and furs, and returning with goods for the Indian market.
"They were a gay, joyous people, having many social parties, wine suppers and balls, and lived in harmony with the Indians, who were their neighbors, relatives and friends. Real estate was held by the title of pos- session, and each settler had a garden adjoining his residence. They had likewise extensive farms west of town, enclosed in one field, though the lines of each separate owner were well defined. When a young man was married, a village lot or tract of land in the common field was assigned him, and if he had no house the people turned out and built him one. They had fine vineyards, and yearly made large quantities of wine, which the Indians eagerly sought in exchange for furs."
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INDIANS THREATEN TO BURN THE CITY.
The pioneer French were said to have domesticated the buffalo, and crossed him with their domestic cattle, producing a tough, hardy breed which could winter in the river bottoms without feed. Indian ponies were the only horses known here, or anywhere in the North-west, until about 1760, when some were brought from Canada. Hogs and cattle were in- troduced by the Spaniards, and through them by the French, about A. D. 1700.
In 1781 a Frenchman killed an Indian, and for a time the white peo- ple of Peoria were threatened with destruction by the excited savages, who surrounded the place and demanded the murderer, supposing him to be hidden in the town. They gave the French three days in which to sur- render the culprit, failing in which they threatened to burn the town. A great panic prevailed ; some of the people fled to Cahokia; others took refuge in the fort. But at length the solemn protestations of the whites that the murderer was not secreted in the village quieted the Indians, who made pledges of friendship and departed.
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RECORDS OF THE OLDEN TIME.
CHAPTER X.
MASSACRE AT FORT DEARBORN.
ESIDES the usual and expected horrors, every war furnishes exceptional scenes of wholesale slaughter or merciless cruelty that stand out in bold relief and commemorate themselves in history as specially infamous. Among the occurrences of the war of 1812, the massacre of Fort Dearborn, at Chicago, was one of unusual ferocity, and worthy of record in our brief historical resume.
The garrison consisted of fifty-four men, under Capt. Heald. The resident families at the post were those of Capt. Heald, Lieut. Helm, a Mr. Kenzie,-and several French voyageurs with their wives and children were there.
One evening in April, 1812, Mr. Kenzie sat playing on his violin, to the music of which the children were dancing, when Mrs. Kenzie came rushing into the house, pale with terror and anguish, exclaiming: "The Indians! The Indians are up at Lee's, killing and scalping!" The fright- ened woman had been attending Mrs. Barnes (just confined), living not far off. Mr. Kenzie and his family at once crossed the river to the fort, to which Mrs. Barnes and her infant were speedily transferred, and where soon all the settlers and their families took refuge. The alarm was caused by a scalping party of Winnebagoes, who, after hovering about the neigh- borhood several days, disappeared.
On the 7th of August, 1812, Gen. Hull, of infamous memory, sent orders from Detroit to Capt. Heald to evacuate Fort Dearborn and distrib- ute all the United States property among the Indians! The Pottawatomie chief who brought the dispatch, foreseeing the fearful effects of such a base, cowardly and treacherous order, advised Capt. Heald not to obey, as the fort contained among its supplies several barrels of whisky, and knowing its effects upon the infuriated savages, burning with hatred of the whites and full of revenge, he foresaw that an indiscriminate massa- cre of all who were incapable of defense would inevitably follow. He
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PREPARING TO EVACUATE THE FORT.
said, "Leave the fort and stores as they are, and while the Indians are making the distribution, the white people may escape to Fort Wayne."
Capt. Heald called a council with the Indians on the afternoon of the 12th, in which his officers refused to join, as they had reason to fear treachery. A cannon pointed at the place of council, however, had its intended effect, and the suspected plot was frustrated.
Mr. Kenzie, well knowing the character of the foe, influenced Captain Heald to withhold the distribution of the powder, and on the night of the 13th, after the property and stores had been given out to the shriek- ing mob of savages, the liquors and ammunition were thrown into the river, and the muskets broken up and rendered useless. Black Partridge, an influential chief and true friend of the whites, came that afternoon to Captain Heald, and said: "The linden birds have been singing in my ears all day ; be careful on the march you take."
The Indians had watched the fort all night, and took note of the pre- parations for its abandonment, and the next morning, when they saw the powder floating upon the surface of the river, were exasperated beyond bounds.
After the fort had been dismantled and the dejected inmates were on the point of starting, a band of friendly Miamis, under Captain Wells, appeared on the lake shore, and inspired the garrison with new hope. But alas! their arrival was too late to avert the threatened calamity. Wells was an uncle of Mrs. Heald, and bore among the Indi- ans the name of "Little Turtle." Learning the ignominious and fatal order to Captain Heald, he had secretly left Detroit with his warriors, hoping to reach Chicago in time to avert the catastrophe he knew was in- evitable; but it was too late.
On the morning of the 15th, the little garrison marched out of the fort at its southern gate, in solemn procession. Captain Wells, who had blackened his face with gunpowder, in token of his fate, took the lead with his Miamis, followed by Captain Heald, with his wife by his side, on horseback. Mr. Kenzie hoped by his personal influence over the savages to save his friends, and accompanied the retreating garrison, leaving his family in a boat in charge of a friendly Indian.
The procession moved slowly along the lake shore till they reached the sand-hills between the prairie and the beach, when the Pottawatomies, commanded by Blackbird, filed in front. Wells, who, with his Miamis had been in the advance, finding the enemy before him, returned, giving
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RECORDS OF THE OLDEN TIME.
word that the foe were about to make an attack. Scarcely had the words been uttered ere a storm of bullets confirmed the story. The Indians, though ten warriors to one of the whites, in accordance with their charac- teristic cowardly mode of fighting were ambushed among the sand-hills, which the white troops charged, and drove them out upon the prairie. The cowardly Miamis fled at the outset, and the brave little band defended themselves heroically against five hundred savages, resolved to sell their lives as dearly as possible.
Capt. Wells, who was by the side of his niece, Mrs. Heald, when the conflict began, said to her, "We have not the slightest chance for life. We must part to meet no more in this world. God bless you," and dashed forward. Seeing a young warrior, painted like a demon, climb into a wagon in which were twelve children, and tomahawk them all, he cried out, unmindful of his personal danger, "If that is your game, butchering women and children, I will kill too." He spurred his horse toward the Indian camp, where they had left their squaws and pappooses, hotly pur- sued by swift-footed young warriors, rapidly firing. One of these killed his horse and wounded him severely in the leg. He was killed and scalped, and his heart cut out and eaten while yet warm and bloody. Mrs. Heald, who knew well how to load and fire, engaged bravely in the fray. She was several times wounded, and when, weak from loss of blood, a brawny savage was about to tomahawk her, she looked him in the eye, and in his own language exclaimed, "Surely you will not kill a squaw!" Ashamed, his arm fell and he slunk away.
Mrs. Helm, Mr. Kinzie's step-daughter, also had her full share of the bloody work. A stout Indian tried to strike her with a tomahawk, but she sprang aside and the weapon glanced upon her shoulder as she grasped the foe around the neck with her arms, trying at the same time to seize the scalping knife in his belt; but while struggling with the desperation of despair she was seized by a powerful Indian, who bore her to the lake and plunged her into the water. To her astonishment, she was so held that she could not drown, nor be seen by any of the Indians, and soon dis- covered that he who was thus shielding her was the friendly chief, Black Partridge, who thus saved her life.
The wife of Sergeant Holt displayed amazing courage and prowess. She was a very strong woman, and was mounted on a high-spirited horse. The Indians coveted the animal, and tried in vain to dismount or kill her, but she warded off the blows by which they strove to beat her down, and
69
MASSACRE OF THE WOUNDED-INCIDENTS.
defended herself bravely, with her husband's sword. She escaped from her enenies and dashed across the prairie, the admiring Indians shouting, " Brave squaw! brave squaw! No hurt her!" but was overtaken by an Indian who pulled her from her horse by the hair, and made 'her cap- tive. She was kept prisoner for several years, and forced to marry among them. When nearly two-thirds of the little band were killed or wounded, the Indians drew off. Numbers of their warriors had been killed, and they proposed a parley. The whites, upon promise of good treatment, agreed to surrender. Mrs. Helm had been taken, bleeding and suffering, to the fort by Black Partridge, where she found her step-father and learned that her husband was safe.
The soldiers gave up their arms to Blackbird, and the survivors became prisoners of war, to be exchanged or ransomed. With this understanding, they were marched to the Indian camp near the fort. Here a new horror was enacted, for the Indians claimed the wounded were not included in the surrender, and they were mercilessly slaughtered, their scalps being taken to the infamous British General Proctor, at Malden, Canada, who had offered the Indians large rewards for the scalp of every soldier brought to him.
In connection with the massacre of Fort Dearborn, Matson, in his work upon the Indians of the Illinois, gives the following incident which he professes to have learned from one of the survivors : "A Mrs. Bee- son, whose maiden name was Mary Lee, was a little girl at the time, but well remembers the frightful event. Her father's dwelling stood on the beach of the lake, near the fort, and back of it was a small garden where he raised vegetables for the garrison, at a good profit. His family at the time of the massacre consisted of his wife, an infant two months old, a son, a daughter Lillie, two little boys, and Mary. When the troops left for Fort Wayne, Mr. Lee's family accompanied them, the mother and in- fant and two younger children in a covered wagon, and the two girls on horseback. Little Lillie, ten years old, was a very handsome child, a great pet among the soldiers and citizens, but she never appeared more beautiful than on that fatal morning. She was mounted on a large gray horse, and to prevent her from falling off, was securely tied to the saddle. She wore a white ruffled dress, trimmed with pink ribbon, and a black jockey hat with a white plume on the side. As the horse pranced and champed its bits at the sound of martial music, little Lillie in a queenly manner sat in her saddle, chatting gaily with her sister, uncon-
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RECORDS OF THE OLDEN TIME.
scious of the awful fate so near. When the Indians opened fire, Lillie was badly wounded and lost her seat, but was restrained from falling off the horse by the cord with which she was bound. Her horse ran back and forth until caught by an Indian named Waupekee, who knew her well, and at her father's cabin had often held her on his knee. In relat- ing it afterward, he said it grieved him to see the little girl suffer so, and out of kindness he split open her head with his tomahawk and ended her misery. He used to say 'it was the hardest thing he ever did.' "
Mr. Lee and his three sons were killed in the battle, but Mrs. Lee and infant and Mary were taken prisoners by Waupekee, who had a village on the Des Plains River. This chief was kind to them, and wanted to marry the mother, notwithstanding the trifling impediment of having three other wives on hand at the time! But she declined the honor. During her stay with him her child became very ill, and both Indian skill and en- chantment and her own knowledge failed to restore it to health. She consented to let Waupekee take it to Chicago, where lived a French trader named Du Pin, in high reputation among the Indians as a "medicine man." One cold day in the latter part of the winter succeeding the massacre, Waupekee wrapped the baby in blankets, and mounting his pony, traveled across the bleak prairie twenty miles, and arriving at Du Pin's dwelling, laid his package upon the floor. "What have you there ?" queried the . surprised trader. "I have brought you a young raccoon as a present," replied the chief, unwrapping the blankets and disclosing the nearly smothered child. Du Pin cured the child, and afterward not only ran- somed the widow, but married her.
Mary, who relates this affair, says she was carried a prisoner to an In- dian village after the battle referred to, thence to St. Louis, and ransomed by General Clark, where she married a French creole, and never after the fatal day met her mother, but supposed her to have been killed.
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RUDE AWAKENING FROM PASTORAL LIFE,
CHAPTER XI.
THE DESTRUCTION OF PEORIA.
N the wars of the Federal Government against the Indians, . and the war with England, in 1812, the French people of Peoria remained neutral, and, as is now known, neither aided nor abetted either party. They were two hundred miles from the nearest American settlement, in the midst of a wil- derness. They knew no laws of any king or country save their own. They lived so far away from the world, that revolutions came, kings were overthrown and new governments erected, while they neither knew of nor interested themselves in the changes. A peaceful and happy people they were, living to themselves, making and ex- ecuting their own laws, paying no taxes, and acknowledging no sovereignty or ruler, simply because no one came to claim their allegiance. They had lived thirty-four years within the jurisdiction of the United States Govern- ment before called upon to cast a ballot. They had a Representative in Congress who never knew them. They had been subjects of France, then of England, and finally of the Federal Union, and only learned the changes of sovereignty through accident. They were a people "unto themselves," speaking a language of their own, and fearing only God, their priests, and the hostile Indians.
The massacre at Fort Dearborn excited widespread horror and ani- mosity, not only against the Indians, but all who were believed to be friendly with them. Reports had got abroad that their supplies of am- munition came through Peoria traders, and that here were incited and set on foot raids and expeditions against the defenceless settlers along the borders.
It was charged that they were cattle thieves, and that Captain John Baptiste Maillette, the chief military man of their village, had an organ- ized band of thieves, and made forays upon the settlements on Wood River, in Madison County, driving off flocks and herds, which found their way to the common enemy. These reports were believed, and Gov-
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RECORDS OF THE OLDEN TIME.
ernor Edwards called for volunteers to rendezvous at Shawneetown, under the command of Captain Craig. Four keel-boats were prepared, with rifle-ball proof planking, and mounted with cannon. Two hundred sol- diers were taken on board, and on the 5th of November, 1812, the "fleet " appeared before Peoria.
The people, wholly unconscious of danger, were at church; and the priest celebrating mass - for it was Sunday, - when suddenly they were startled by the booming of cannon. Fear and curiosity brought them to the beach, when four boats loaded with armed men met their astonished gaze. Capt. Craig landed and took position, with guns loaded and bayonets fixed, ready for any emergency.
Father Racine went to meet and welcome the strangers, but neither could understand the other, until an interpreter was found in the person of Thomas Forsythe. No explanation was vouchsafed, but meat and veg- etables were demanded, and promptly furnished. The soldiers dispersed about town and committed various outrages, such as breaking into Felix La Fontaine's store and taking from it two casks of wine. Numbers got drunk, and entering houses, helped themselves to whatever pleased them. It was after dark before Captain Craig succeeded in getting them on board the boats and pushed the boats from shore to prevent further outrages upon the citizens.
During the night a high wind arose, and to escape the waves the boats raised their anchors and dropped down into "the narrows," a half mile below, where they remained till morning. About daylight several guns were fired in quick succession in the adjoining tember. Captain Craig, thinking it the signal for an attack by the Indians, ordered the boats pushed farther from shore and cannon trained to sweep the woods.
A council of war was held on board, and it was determined to burn the town and make the men prisoners of war, as a punishment for incit- ing the Indians to attack the boats. The Frenchmen afterward claimed the firing was done by hunters, and as no attack was made and no enemy appeared, the statement is doubtless correct.
Capt. Craig next landed his troops, and taking all able-bodied men prisoners, set fire to their houses and burned them down, while the women and children looked on in terror from a vacant lot where they had congre- gated, in the rear of their burning church. The church, with its sacred vestments and furniture, was destroyed. The wind-mill on the bank of the lake, filled with grain, the stables, corn bins, and everything about the
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GOMO'S HOSPITALITY TO THE HOMELESS.
town of any value were reduced to ashes! The stores of La Fontaine, La Croix, Des Champs, and Forsyth, full of valuable goods, shared the same fate. An old man named Benit, a former trader, who had amassed some money, rushed through the flames to rescue it, and perished, his charred remains being found the following spring. Mrs. La Croix, a lady of refinement and great personal attraction, who afterward became the wife . of Governor Reynolds, being alone with three small children, appealed in vain to the soldiers to save the clothes of herself and little ones.
Thomas Forsythe, a short time previous, had been appointed a Govern- ment agent here, and on exhibiting his commission to Captain Craig, he pronounced it a forgery !
When the destruction was complete, the boats returned down the river with their prisoners. Two miles below the present site of Alton, they were set ashore in the thick timber, without blankets, tents or pro- visions, and told they might return to their homes! Meantime, the women and children, left without food or shelter, were in a pitiful condition. Some of them had been left without sufficient clothing, and suffered greatly. It was growing cold, and the nights were freezing. Snow fell, sharp frosts came, and the roaring wind lashed the troubled waters or moaned in the leafless oaks. Could any situation have been more desolate? The hungry mothers could only weep and pray, and draw the forms of their little ones to their bosoms!
While thus brooding over their despair, an Indian chief named Gomo made his appearance. He lived in a village of his tribe, where Chilli- cothe now stands. On the approach of Captain Craig's forces, his people fled and secreted themselves in the grove of timber at Kickapoo Creek, and now the invaders were gone, he had come to render such aid as it was in his power to give. Provisions were supplied, temporary huts erected for all who desired to remain, and homes in his village given to the older women and the children. Afterward, the women (fearing a return of the soldiers, and crazed with anxiety to know the fate of those they loved,) prevailed upon Gomo to furnish them with canoes and rowers to go down the river, hoping their presence might mitigate the fate of their captive kindred. After several days of hardship, camping each night on the banks, suffering from fatigue, cold and storm, they reached Cahokia, where they were provided for by their countrymen, and afterward joined by their husbands .*
* Matson's "French and Indians."
,
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RECORDS OF THE OLDEN TIME. .
CHAPTER XII.
EXTERMINATION OF THE BUFFALO.
ARLY travelers assert that the Illinois Valley was the favor- ite resort of the American buffalo, or bison, and though they had disappeared years before, the first settlers found the ground strewn with countless thousands of bones, re- mains of the great herds that had been destroyed. Their range was, confined to no particular locality, except in winter, when they resorted to groves and river bottoms for shelter and greater supplies of food. It does not appear that the white man had much to do with their final disappearance. The French were the only settlers, and they so few in number that the buffalo slaughtered by them and the Indians were insignificant as compared with their annual increase.
About ninety years ago, according to Indian tradition, there came an Arctic winter, which for depth of snow and severity never had a parallel in Indian tradition. Nearly all living animals perished. The intense cold drove them to the ravines for shelter, where thousands were overwhelmed and suffocated. According to the statements of the Indians, they huddled together for warmth, and died in countless droves; and not the buffalo alone, but the deer likewise; and when the first settlers crossed the big prairie this side of the Wabash River, the ground was strewn with ant- lers, skulls and the larger bones of both deer and buffalo. The statement that the survivors voluntarily left the country after the cold winter is not borne out by the evidence, and the writer who drew the fanciful picture which follows must have relied largely upon his imagination for facts.
"Next spring a few buffalo, poor and haggard in appearance, were seen going westward, and as they approached the carcasses of their dead com- panions, which were lying on the prairies in great numbers, they would stop, commence pawing and bellowing, and then start off again on a lope for the west." *
Father Buche, a missionary about Peoria in 1770, in a manuscript left *Matson's " French and Indians."
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NARROW ESCAPE OF FATHER BUCHE.
by him, describes a buffalo hunt. He says he accompanied thirty-eight of his countrymen and about three hundred Indians when they killed so many buffalo that only their hides could be taken away, their carcasses being left for the wolves. Three leagues west of the great bend in the Illinois River they discovered a herd of many thousand buffalo, feeding on a small prairie surrounded on three sides by timber (now probably known as Princeton prairie). It being about sundown, the hunters encamped for the night in a grove near by, with the intention of attacking them, the next day. Next morning before it was light, the Indians, divested of clothing, mounted on ponies, and armed with guns, bows, arrows, spears, etc., anxiously awaited the command of their chief to commence the sport. They formed on three sides, secreting themselves in the timber, while the French occupied a line across the prairie. At a given signal the advance began, when as soon as the animals scented the ap- proaching enemy, they arose and fled in great confusion. On approaching the line the Indians fired, at the same time yelling at the top of their voices. The frightened creatures turned and fled in an opposite direction, where they were met by the hunters and foiled in like manner. Thus they continued to run back and forth, while the slaughter went on. As they approached the line, the Indians would pierce them with spears or bring them down with the more deadly rifle. The line continued to close in, and the frightened buffalo, snorting and with flashing eyes, charged the guards, broke through the line, overthrowing horses and riders, and made their escape.
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