o * J. « '■■ .0 0' ^ o V .0' J * ^'^^ >^^ % ■-ii,-t s^ o ^'^- .-. ^ c^ .^-r.-^^VA/; ^ ^ ■/ 'V '<^ ". -.. ' - .' ^V "^^ 4 '^^ ^^ .-♦v ^^^ ,^^ "-^ <^^ aO' '^.s^' V' ^^ ^ r,^ r> ^- ■ . - '^- A^ c" . o ^^•'*^. ^. ..V -^^ ^^ <<- •> <. ■P ^y \ o .-^^ /^.^^I". -^ -^^0^ .-^9^ .^' '^^ • • ^ ' • * O ' o <>, A' ^- -?>. vV^,. A -^o • ^^v, '•^. ^^^^ A^ .^^ '^ ^<^<^ ■^^.v .'* ^ .-N ^- > V 'U- 0^- .,5 °<. ^0 ^ '. • • , 4 ,!'-'1 !""'!•.-. *, -f' ^'^ ^<. /> '<' ■^' •p S- s ^J'• ,v ^- .*" o /&■■ '"~-- '; ;'-' A ""^ -^ . \ ' 1 ;- "^^ .,-^- .40, ^0- <^ sr--\ tV>^ V- 0^ ■ ■ ^^^. o V -^• N^ <■ .i0 ^fr y A view of Pine Creek above Williamsport. The pine trees on the banks w^ere formerly of great height and size. To avoid the danger- ous passes and fords, Harrison's army crossed below this point at Brier's Mills and posted sen- tinels toward the Wabash. Photo by L. W. Smith, Oxford, Ind. POTAWATOMI BANDITTI 41 and William T. Cole, Temple, Patton, Murdock and Gooch, and after pursuing the Indians all day, they came in sight of them on a large prairie, but the horses of Cole's party were so tired that they had to give up the chase, and encamped in a small woodland. After midnight, and when all were in slumber, the stealthy savages returned, surrounded the camp, and on the first attack kill- ed Temple, Patton and Gooch. Murdock sought shelter under the bank of a creek near by, but William T. Cole was attacked by two savages, one in front and one in the rear. In the rencounter Cole was stabbed in the shoulder, but wrenched a knife from one of his assailants and killed him. The other Indian escaped in the darkness. This murder and larceny combined, was brought to the attention of Governor Harrison by the then acting governor of Louisiana territory. Later he made a demand upon Governor Harrison, accompanied by documentary proof of the whole transaction, that the savages be apprehended, as it was alleged that they were somewhere within the territorial limits of Indiana. The governor had small hope of either retrieving the horses or securing any information concerning the savage assassins, as he knew that the Prophet would take all necessary steps to cover up their tracks. However, he dispatched a messenger, probably Dubois or Barron, to the Prophet's Town. In about a month four of the horses were recovered and it was learned that in the winter following 42 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI the tragedy, that the Indians had camped at some point between the Wabash and Lake Michigan, presumably at one of the groves bearing the chief's name. Tecumseh and the Prophet both denied any complicity in the affair, and promised to have the remainder of the horses sent in, but this was never done. When asked to deliver up Turkey-Foot and his accomplices, the reply was made that they had gone to reside on the Illinois river, a statement that was undoubtedly false. Tecumseh became defiant in his attitude and said that he would tolerate no more encroachments by the white race. The Indians were never taken. The chief thus protected by the Shawnee con- spirators, lived long after the Battle of Tippe- canoe in the grove in Newton county that still bears his name, and was seen by some of the ear- liest pioneer settlers. Late in life he had a fatal quarrel with another Potawatomi chief by the name of Bull-Foot, in which both were killed. John Ade, father of George Ade, relates in his book on early times in Newton county, that Tur- key-Foot killed Bull-Foot, and was in turn killed by Bull-Foot's son. Ade's account of the dis- posal of the bodies lends veracity to the story. He says that the chief's followers "stood the two bodies upright against two trees standing close together, with their faces toward each other." Matson gives the manner of Potawatomi burial as follows: "The Indians bury their dead in a shallow grave, and build a pen over it, construct- ed of small timbers, to prevent wolves from dig- POTAWATOMI BANDITTI 43 ging up and devouring the remains. These pens over graves were found here and there through the country long after the Indians had left, and some of them were used for fire-wood by early settlers. The chiefs were entombed above ground so they could be seen afterwards by their friends, and frequently visited by the band. A high knoll or mound is selected in the thick timber away from the village, where the corpse is placed in a sitting position, braced with stone or timber to keep it upright. A rifle, tomahawk, knife, pipe and tobacco, and everything the de- ceased is supposed to want in the spirit lands, are placed by his side. Around the tomb are erected high palisades to prevent dogs (of which, by the way, the Potawatomi always had plenty), and wolves, from eating the corpse, and in this way the body is left to decay." As Mr. Matson got his information from no less an authority than Shaubena, one of the most renowned of the Illinois Potawatomi, it must be reliable. Years afterward, the white settlers buried the bones of these two slain chieftains. They were afterwards dug up by Dr. Charles E. Triplett, of Morocco, who discovered that one of the thigh bones had at one time been broken and that it had overlapped and grown together. The above was only one of the many raids in which Turkey-Foot's band took part. They were notorious enough in those days. On another oc- 44 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI casion four of them had stolen twelve horses near Vincennes and got away with them. There was small chance of recovery, once the horses disap- peared in the wilderness north of the Wabash. THE REAL SAVAGE 45 r"^HERE was no glamour about the Potawat- I omi. He was a real savage. He was lazy, EBB ^rid made his squaw hoe the corn. He had but very little regard for women. "Polygamy was common among the Potawatomi when they were visited by the early missionaries." Like all his race, he was a gambler, playing heavily at his moccasin games and lacrosse. As a general rule, he was cruel, and always had a deadly hatred for the white man. It has been admitted by Shau- bena that most of the depredations on the fron- tier settlements in Illinois during the Black Hawk war, were committed by the Potawatomi. The cowardly and brutal massacre at Chicago, Au- gust 15, 1812, was the work, principally of the Potawatomi, "and their several bands from the Illinois and Kankakee rivers; those from the St. Joseph of the lake, and the St. Joseph of the Mau- mee, and those of the Wabash and its tributaries were all represented in the despicable act." In that massacre. Captain William Wells, the bro- ther-in-law of Little Turtle, the famous Miami chief, was killed when he was trying to protect the soldiers and refugees. He was discovered af- 46 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI terwards, terribly mutilated. His body lay in one place, his head in another, while his arms and legs were scattered about over the prairie. The terrible warriors of this tribe, stripped to the skin, except breech-cloth and moccasins, and with bodies painted with horrible stripes of red, went into battle with the rage of madmen and demons and committed every excess known to human cruelty. In general appearance the Potawatomi did not compare favorably with the Kickapoos of the Vermilion river. The Kickapoo warriors were generally tall and sinewy, while the Potawatomi were shorter and more thickly set, very dark and squalid. Numbers of the women of the Kicka- poos are described as being lithe "and many of them by no means lacking in beauty." The Pot- awatomi women were inclined to greasiness and obesity. The French-Canadians applied the very significant name to the tribe of "Les Poux," or those who have lice, from which it may be in- ferred that they were not generally of cleanly habits. In latter days, however, many of the French-Canadians intermarried with women of this tribe, and the Treaty of 1832 with the Pota- watomi contains many French names, such as Francis De Jean, Cicott, Nedeau, Ducharm, Ber- trand, and others. It was formerly frequently noticed that in many of the Kickapoo and Pota- watomi attacks on the frontier that the French settlers escaped, owing to the partiality that all the Algonquin tribes displayed toward that race. THE REAL SAVAGE 47 The language of the Potawatomi was of a rough, gutteral variety, in sharp contrast to that of the Kickapoo tongue, which was soft and liquid. The dialect was spoken rapidly and with a tendency to elide vowels and syllables. Notwithstanding his savage propensities, the Potawatomi in his pristine days, and before the advent of the French trader with his "fire-water," was to be admired for his strength, his wonderful endurance through the famine and cold of the northern winters, his agility and ingenuity in the chase or on the war-path. That the race mul- tiplied rapidly, and were able to sweep back the Miami in front of them, is some evidence of their natural power and aggressiveness. But that they were true savages, yielding to their animal appe- tites and desires, is evidenced by their rapid de- generacy under the influence of whiskey. Noth- ing was more common than drunkenness after the greedy and avaricious traders of the Wabash got into their midst and bartered rum for their most valuable peltries. Potawatomi were found camp- ing about Vincennes in great numbers and trad- ing everything of value for liquor. General Har- rison, time and again, sought to stay this nefar- ious traffic. On all occasions when treaties were to be made, or council fires kindled, he issued pro- clam.ations prohibiting the sale of liquor to the Indians. These proclamations were inserted in the Westei'n Sun at Vincennes, on more than one occasion, but they were unavailing. The tempta- tion of a huge profit was too strong. Terrible 48 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI carousals and orgies took place when the Indians were under the influence of "nre-water." Fights and murders were frequent. At the last, whiskey destroyed the last vestige of virtue in their wo- men, and valor in their warriors. After the crushing of the Prophet in 1811, and the destruction of British influence in the north- west, consequent upon the War of 1812, the de- cline of the Potawatomi was swift and appalling. The terrible ravages of "fire-water" played no inconsiderable part. Many of 'their principal chieftains became notorious drunkards, reeling along the streets of frontier posts and towns and boasting of their former prowess. Even the re- nowned Topenebee, the last principal chief of the tribe of the river St, Joseph, was no exception. Reproached by General Lewis Cass, because he did not remain sober and care for his people, he answered, "Father, we do not care for the land, nor the money, nor the goods; what we want is whiskey; give us whiskey!" The example set by the chiefs was not neglected by their followers. Nothing can better illustrate the shocking sav- agry and depravity of some of these last chief- tains, after the tribe had been contaminated by the effect of strong liquors, than the story of Wa- bunsee, principal war-chief of the Prairie band of Potawatomi residing on the Kankakee river in Illinois, and in his early days one of the renowned and daring warriors of his tribe. When General Harrison marched with his regulars and Indiana THE REAL SAVAGE 49 and Kentucky militia, on the way to the battle field of Tippecanoe, he ascended the Wabash river, erecting Fort Harrison near the present site of Terre Haute, and christening it on Sunday, the 27th of October, 1811. From here, the army marched up the east bank of the river, crossing the deep water near the present site of Monte- zuma, Indiana, and erecting a block house on the west bank, about three miles below the mouth of the Vermilion river, for a base of supplies. Corn and provisions for the army were taken in boats and pirogues from Fort Harrison up the river, and landed at this block house. On Saturday, the 2nd day of November, John Tipton recorded in his diary that "this evening a man come from the Garrison (Ft. Harrison) said last night his boat was fired on — one man that was asleep kill- ed dead." Beckwith records that the dare-devil "Wabunsee, the Looking-Glass, principal war chief of the Prairie band of Pottawatomies, resid- ing on the Kankakee river, in Illinois, distin- guished himself, the last of October, 1811, by leaping aboard of one of Gov. Harrison's supply boats, loaded with com, as it was ascending the Wabash, five miles above Terre Haute, and killing a man, and making his escape ashore without in- jury." Allowing for a slight discrepancy in dates, this is probably the same incident referred to by John Tipton, and taking into consideration that the boats probably were guarded by armed men, this was certainly a daring and adventurous feat 50 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI Yet it is recorded of this chief, that he always carried about with him two scalps in a buckskin pouch "taken from the heads of soldiers in the War of 1812, and when under the influence of li- quor, he would exhibit them, going through the motions of obtaining these trophies." School- craft, whose attention was especially drawn to- wards this chieftain on account of his drunken ferocity, and who paints him as one of the worst of the many bad savages of his day, says: "He often freely indulged in liquor; and when excited, exhibited the flushed visage of a demon. On one occasion, two of his wives, or rather female slaves, had a dispute. One of them went, in her excited state of feeling, to Waubunsee, and told him that the other ill-treated his children. He or- dered the accused to come before him. He told her to lie down on her back on the ground. He then directed the other (her accuser) to take a tomahawk and dispatch her. She instantly split open her skull. "There," said the savage, "let the crows eat her." He left her unburied, but was af- terwards persuaded to direct the murderess to bury her. She dug the grave so ^hallow, that the wolves pulled out her body that night, and partly devoured it." Looking at the Potawatomi in the true light; regarding him as he really was, a wild and un- tamed savage, and made worse by his contact with the Indian traders and whiskey vendors of frontier days, is it any wonder that the children of that time, as Judge James Hall relates, 'learn- THE REAL SAVAGE 51 ed to hate the Indian and to speak of him as an enemy? From the cradle they listened continual- ly to horrid tales of savage violence, and became familiar with narratives of aboriginal cunning and ferocity.' Is it any wonder that when General Harrison crossed the Wabash at Montezuma and gave orders to the advance guard to shoot every Indian at sight, that the rough frontiersman, John Tipton, entered in his diary, "Fine News!" 52 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI Koptntbtt, W^t last Cijitf F OR nearly half a century Topenebee, whose name, according to Jacob Piatt Dunn, sig- nifies "A Quiet Sitting Bear," was the head and principal chief of the Potawatomi na- tion. He was probably bom near Niles, Michi- gan, for here was located "the great Pottawatomie village, ruled over by Aniquiba, the great chief of the Potawatomies," who was the father of To- penebee. Topenebee was thus of the royal blood, and the ruling clan of his tribe. His sister, Kau- keama, married William Burnett, a famous French fur trader, who thereafter became very influential and powerful among the tribesmen. His sons, by this Indian princess, were unfriendly to the advancing white settlements of the west, and Abraham Burnett, in command of a mixed band of Potawatomi and Kickapoos, is said to have laid a plan to ambush and surprise Harri- son's army near Perryville, Indiana, on its march to the battle-ground at Tippecanoe. This plot, however, failed. Burnett's creek, on the western edge of the battle-ground, is named for a mem- ber of this family. From the first, Topenebee seems to have been TOPENEBEE, THE LAST CHIEF 53 hostile to the United States. He was no doubt in the battle of Fallen Timbers, fought with An- thony Wayne, in 1794, for he appears as a signer of the Treaty of Greenville, Ohio, of August 3, 1795, signing that document as "Thu-Pe-Ne-Bu," and the fact that he signed as the first of the "Putawatames of the river St. Joseph," shows that at that early date he was their chief and principal sachem. At an early date, Topenebee embraced the teachings of the Prophet, and be- came an ally of the Shawnee brothers and the British. "When Tecumseh and the Prophet came to the Wabash in the year 1808, for the purpose of organizing their confederacy of the Indian tribes to oppose the further advance of the new republic, they settled at the mouth of the Tippe- canoe on certain lands granted them by the Pota- watomi and Kickapoos, although their grant was opposed by the Miami, who were the rightful oc- cupants and owners of the soil. In the negotia- tions leading up to this transaction, Topenebee took an active part. Local tradition at Attica, Indiana, preserves the tale that "some time in the fall of the year 1807, Topenebee and the Kick- apoos and Potawatomis, Miamis and Winnebagos, met Tecumseh and his prophet beneath the spreading branches of a splendid oak that stood within the corporate limits of the city of Attica. In this council it was agreed that the Shawnee tribe, under Tecumseh and his brother, the Pro- phet, might have as their hunting ground the ter- ritory drained by Shawnee creek, and then a line 54 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI drawn from there to the watershed of the Tip- pecanoe river, and up the Tippecanoe river about twenty miles." The Potawatomi chief was thus largely instru- mental in bringing the impending conflict closer to the Vincennes settlement, and in hastening, incidentally, the downfall of his own people. Nei- ther is there any doubt that during the trouble- some period preceding the battle of Tippecanoe and until after the War of 1812, that Topenebee and all the leading chiefs of his tribe were in close communication with the British agent, Mat- thew Elliott, at Maiden, Canada. The facts concerning the yearly pilgrimage of the tribes of the northwest to this place, and the presents they received from the English govern- ment, have already been related. These presents and a vast quantity of whiskey, won them away from General Harrison and made them allies of the British in the War of 1812. Topenebee, if he did not actually take part in laying the plot, was fully aware of the impending massacre of the troops at Fort Dearborn, or Chi- cago, on August 15, 1812. This was shown by the fact that, "Early in the morning, Mr. Kinzie (the trader located at the old post), received a mes- sage from To-pen-nee-bee, a chief of the St. Jos- eph's band, informing him that mischief was in- tended by the Potawatomis, who had engaged to escort the detachment; and urging him to relin- quish his design of accompanying the troops by TOPENBBBE, THE LAST CHIEF 55 land, promising him that the boat containing him- self and family should be permitted to pass in safety to St. Joseph's." Bearing in mind the close relations between the British and the Potawatomi chiefs ; the fact that this warning was sent to a personal friend, and the further fact that Potawatomi from the St. Joseph river were present at the slaughter; the evidence is rather strong that Topenebee was the leader in the whole affair from the beginning. The terrible decline of the Potawatomi nation after the War of 1812, and the degeneracy of their chiefs, including Topenebee, on account of the ravages of "fire-water," has already been re- lated. Without leadership; without any intelli- gent plan of cooperation with his fellows ; a prey to savage appetites and propensities, and without the knowledge or inclination to utilize his land, except to hunt thereon to relieve his immediate and pressing wants, the Potawatomi became a wanderer and a beggar in his own country, rov- ing here and there in quest of game, or falling into the hands of unscrupulous traders, who rob- bed him of his peltries and possessions for a pint of rum. To withstand the advancing tide of white immigration was impossible. Says Logan Esary: "No description can give an accurate impression of the settlement of Indiana. One who has watch- ed the rising waters of a flood overflow the land will appreciate the overflow of the state by the swelling tide of white immigration. By 1825 the 56 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI settlers were entering the northern half of the state." Already, on October 2, 1818, there had been consummated at St. Mary's Ohio, a treaty between the Potawatomi nation and Jonathan Jennings, Lewis Cass and Benjamin Parke, whereby said nation ceded to the United States, "a large tract of country lying in central-western Indiana and eastern Illinois, fronting on the Wabash from the mouth of the Tippecanoe to the mouth of the Vermilion, and extending westward to a line drawn as nearly parallel with the Wabash as practicable, so as to strike the two latter streams twenty-five miles from their respective conflu- ence with the Wabash; and now embraced in parts of Tippecanoe, White, Benton, all of War- ren, the north half of Vermilion counties, Indi- ana, and the greater part of Vermilion county, in Illinois." A few years later this cession was to be occupied by herdsmen, and great droves of cattle, and the famous Chicago road was to run through the northern stretches of this area from the towns on the W^abash to the growing town around old Fort Dearborn. This was but the beginning of the retirement. On October 16, 1826, there was concluded at the mouth of the Mississinewa, between the Potawat- omi and Lewis Cass, James B. Ray and John Tip- ton, a treaty whereby the tribe released all claim to valuable tracts of land north and west of the Tippecanoe, along Eel river, and about Fort TOPENEBEE, THE LAST CHIEF 57 Wayne. This was followed by the treaty of Sep- tember 20, 1826, granting a great tract in north- eastern Indiana, and the final treaty on the Tip- pecanoe river, on October 27, 1832, concluded be- tween the Potawatomi and Jonathan Jennings, John W. Davis and Marks Crume, commissioners, wherein "the Chiefs and warriors aforesaid cede to the United States, their title and interest to lands in the States of Indiana and Illinois, and the territory of Michigan, south of Grand river." Thus, from the year 1818 to the year 1832, a short space of only fourteen years, the Potawat- omi nation had lost practically all of its valuable holdings and claims in northern Indiana and southern Michigan, and the tribe had sunk into a terrible decadence from which it was never to recover. In all these treaties, Topenebee had signed as chief sachem of his tribe, but in 1832, old, drun- ken and decrepit, he had fallen from his high es- tate as the associate of Tecumseh, and the lordly commander who had led all the bands north of the Wabash, until there was reserved for him out of all the vast prairies and woodlands of northern Indiana, but one section of land — the exact lan- guage of the treaty of 1832 was : "To To-pen-ne- bee, principal chief, one section." This section was to be selected under the direction of the Pres- ident of the United States. The section of land thus reserved for Topenebee proved to be of no benefit, either to himself or his 58 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI descendents. Under authority of the president, one J. T. Douglass, on January 20, 1836, reported to the government that he had selected section 31, in township 26 north, range 9 west, as Topene- bee's land. This selection was confirmed by Presi- dent Martin Van Buren, on March 29, 1837. The section thus selected was ideally located to suit a prairie Indian. ^From a memorandum attached to an old deed discovered in the archives of the Benton circuit court, this section, or Indian Float, was described as being at Sugar grove, in Benton county, seven miles north of Parish's grove, and thirteen miles south of Iroquois, or Bunkum, on the Chicago road from Williamsport, Warren county, to Chicago. The west side of the section was in the eastern verge of Sugar grove, and the entire eastern side was a prairie of blue-stem, watered on the northern side by Sugar creek, which extended on west through the grove into the state of Illinois. From the viewpoint of the early cattle men, it was just the location adapted for an ideal ranch. The timber afforded fuel, and also protected the herds in winter; the creek afforded an abundant supply of fresh water, and the surrounding prairie was an ideal grazing ground. Edward C. Sumner, the greatest cattle man north of the Wabash river, riding over the old Chicago road, about 1834, immediately per- ceived its advantages, and afterwards built a ranch on its western side and along the banks of the creek. Long before the section was located by Douglass, however, Topenebee had parted TOPENEBEE. THE LAST CHIEF 59 with all his title to Alexis Coquillard. The treaty was made, as has been shown, on the 27th day of October, 1832. On November 27 of the same year Topenebee, by a deed executed in St. Joseph coun- ty, Indiana, did "grant, bargain, sell, convey and confirm unto the said Alexis Coquillard and David H. Colerick, and their heirs and assigns forever, all that section of land, called a floating reserve, made to the said Topenebee at the treaty of Tip- pecanoe, made and concluded by and between the chiefs of the Potawatomi Nation, and Jennings, Grume and Davis." The consideration named in the deed was eight hundred dollars, or one dol- lar and twenty-five cents per acre, and this deed was placed on record in Benton county on July 17, 1846. In Judge Timothy E. Howard's His- tory of St. Joseph County, Alexis Coquillard is named as the founder of South Bend. He was of French descent and had served in the War of 1812 in the American army under General Harrison, although but seventeen years of age. He later became a trader on the St. Joseph river and wielded such an influence on the Potawatomi tribe that they would have made him their chief if he had not prevented it. He is mentioned by Logan Esarey as one of the traders who was present at the payment of annuities to the In- dians, and at the various treaties made with the tribes. He was undoubtedly present at the treaty of October 27, 1832, for by the terms of that in- strument, he was paid five thousand one hundred dollars, due him for debts incurred by the Indian 60 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI tribes. Let us hope that he took no advantage of the aged and besotted chieftain of the Potawatomi tribe. On October 7, 1846, Alexis Coquillard and his wife, Frances, conveyed this section to Ed- ward C. Sumner, for the consideration of twelve hundred dollars. Thus passed away the last dominion that Tope- nebee ever exercised over the prairies, which, in his youth, he had been so familiar with. Six years after the treaty of 1832, his tribe passed beyond the Mississippi, and old, feeble and broken, he retired to southern Michigan, where, in Au- gust, 1840, to use the melodious language of J. Wesley Whicker, "he passed from among the in- habitants of earth and took his trackless way alone to the Happy Hunting Ground." PATHS OF THE RED MAN 61 ^atljs of tfje l^t\i Man aO the Potawatomi, the grand prairie, not- withstanding its vast stretches, was as an open book. He traveled without compass, but that instinct which guides the animal through the forest, and the fowl through the air, guided the wary savage to far away hunting grounds, or to the wigwam of his enemy, with unerring foot- step. Mrs. J. H. Kinzie, a historian of the Northwest, says: "Their (the Indians') knowledge of the geography of their country is wonderfully exact. I have seen an Indian sit in his lodge, and draw a map in the ashes, of the Northwestern states, not of its statistical, but its geographical features, lakes, rivers and mountains, with the greatest ac- curacy, giving their relative distances, by days' journeys, without hesitancy, and even extending his drawings and explanations as far as Ken- tucky and Tennessee." Notwithstanding this intimate knowledge, how- ever, the wilderness of the early days was marked by many Indian trails, caused by different parties of Indians traveling frequently over the same 62 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI route, to hunt or trade. These trails usually fol- lowed the path of least resistance, avoiding the swamps, bogs and stony places, and choosing the high and dry ground. Sometimes they followed the traces made by the buffalo or the deer in go- ing to watering places or salt licks. It is certain that a route would always be adopted, at least in times of peace, where water and fire would be available, and where the hunting parties would be afforded an apportunity, if possible, to camp and rest in the groves and woodlands. Mrs. J. H. Kinzie mentions a great trail made across the prairies of Illinois, by the Sauk Indians, in going to Fort Maiden and Detroit, to hold councils and trade with the British agent. She describes it as "a narrow path, deeply indented by the hoofs of the horses on which the Indians traveled in single file. So deeply is it sunk in the sod which covers the prairie, that it is difficult, sometimes, to dis- tinguish it at a distance of a few rods." This great Sauk trail passed through Lake and Porter counties, in Indiana, running by Cedar lake, where fish and game were abundant. It must not be understood that these trails were always plainly marked. In places they were lost in the expanse of the plain, or disappeared in marshes and lowlands. However, the general outlines of the larger trails were fairly well fixed. There might be two or three paths in some places, but these would later converge and run together. In places the track might be entirely obliterated, but would later appear again. PATHS OF THE RED MAN 63 There is now no doubt that an early Potawat- omi trail, of great importance, extended from Kick-a-poo Falls, on the Wabash river, near the present site of Attica, to the old Indian trading post of Chicago, coursing through what is now Benton and Warren counties, in Indiana, and en- tering the state of Illinois near the present town of Sheldon, and thence extending a little west of north to lake Michigan. The route of this trail may be more explicitly described as follows : Com- mencing at Kick-a-poo falls, it extended almost due northwest through Warren county, to the present site of Rainsville; thence northwest to the prairies of what is now Benton county, cross- ing Mud Pine creek near Chase ; thence extending due northwest across the prairie to Sugar grove ; it then ran to the state line, northwest, between Indiana and Illinois, somewhere west of Raub; thence northwest to a point near the present town of Sheldon, Illinois; thence to Bunkum, on the Iroquois, or Pinkamink river ; thence extending in a northerly direction on a general line with the towns of Donovan, Momence and Blue Island, and passing on to the Post of Chicago. It crossed Beaver creek on the Illinois side, and also the Kan- kakee or Theakiki. At the point where this trail entered Parish's grove, it was joined by another trail or feeder which led off to the southeast, in the direction of the old trading post of Ouiatenon, just below the present site of Lafayette, following the general route of what was afterwards denominated the 64 THE JuAND OF THE POTAWATOMI Lafayette road. This side trail would extend in the general direction of the present towns of Ox- ford, Otterbein and Montmorenci. The line of the main Potawatomi trail, as it passed through Warren and Benton counties, was well marked as early as 1824. It is recorded that in the fall of that year, Berry Whicker, Henry Campbell and other Ohio land hunters joined a party of Potawatomi who were going to Beaver lake on a big hunt. They started at Kick-a-poo and followed a well defined Indian path. When they got into the big prairies of Benton county, the "blue-stem grass grew so high that one of the party rode out a few feet into the blue-stem from the party in the Indian trail, and the rest of the party passed without seeing him." Now the only Indian trail extending across Benton county in the general direction of Beaver lake, of which there is any tradition, is the one that passed through Parish's grove. John Pugh, an old and reliable pioneer of Warren county, now dead, re- lated that when he was a boy of fourteen, that he traveled with his father over what he denomi- nated as "The Chicago Trail," to Chicago, passing through Parish's grove, and thence on by way of Bunkum and Momence, Illinois. This shows that the very earliest settlers, who knew the Potawat- omi well, always spoke of a "trail" instead of a road. An old map of Indiana, published by Colton, in 1838, shows a road extending northwest from A section of Colton's Map of Indiana of the year 1838. Benton Countj was not orgranized until 1840. The three rang:es oflF the south side of Jasper were made into the new county. Parish's Grove is shown in Jasper, and Beaver Lake in Newton. The old Potawatomi trail from Kickapoo throug:h Rainsville and Parish's Grove to Chicago is plainly seen. PATHS OF THE RED MAN 65 Kick-a-poo to Rainsville, and then on to Parish's grove. There is no record that a state road was ever located over this route, although there is an act of the state legislature for the year 1829, es- tablishing a state road north from Williamsport to Parish's grove and the state line. The trace from Kick-a-poo to Parish's grove on the Colton map is undoubtedly the line of the old Indian trail. The exact location of the main trail as it passed through the groves and plains of eastern Illinois, was probably never definitely fixed. As before shown, the line of these trails was sometimes dimly marked. The history of Kankakee county, Illinois, fixes the establishment of an Indian trad- ing post at Bunkum, on the Iroquois, as early as 1822, kept by Gurdon S. Hubbard and Noel Le Vasseur, and the establishment of what was known as "Hubbard's Trail" to and from Fort Dearborn, which in a general way "ran almost parallel with the Indian trails." This way led by Donovan, Momence and Blue Island. Le Vas- seur and Hubbard were in the employ of the great fur companies, and it is not likely that any of those who bartered whiskey and beads for furs and peltries would be found anywhere else than on the lines of Indian communication. Hubbard in his autobiography speaks of Sugar grove and tells of camping with some Kick-a-poos on Big Pine creek. He says that he accused the Kick-a- poos of deceiving General Harrison, at the Battle of Tippecanoe, by pointing out an unfavorable lo- 66 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI cation for a camping ground. He says that the Kick-a-poos laughed at this and told him that the old general had selected the best site in the locality for a ground of defense, and Hubbard to verify this statement made a trip to the battle ground and said he was convinced that the Kick-a-poo statement was true. He mentions Burnett's creek on the west side of Battle Ground. The reasons for the existence of this great trail are at once apparent. The Potawatomi control extended from lake Michigan to the north bank of the Wabash, reaching down that stream as far as the outlet of Big Pine creek. Mr. Hiram Beck- with, once president of the Illinois Historical So- ciety, is authority for the statement that the groves in the prairies west of Lafayette contained mixed villages of Kick-a-poos and Potawatomi. Parish's grove had an Indian burjring ground on the west side of it, which was visited by bands of Potawatomi as late as the "40's." All the groves and prairies of Indiana and Illinois and along the line of this Potawatomi trail have In- dian traditions connected with them. Topenebee, the great chief of the Potawatomi, was well ac- quainted with all this ground. Now this great trail, running the whole length of the Potawatomi domain from lake Michigan to the Wabash, serv- ed to unite all the Indian villages in these groves, led directly to the great fishing grounds of the Iroquois and the trapping and hunting grounds of Beaver lake and the Kankakee, and connected the different bands of this tribe with the trading post PATHS OF THE RED MAN 67 under the ^ns of Fort Dearborn at the north, and with the ancient post of Ouiatenon, the French traders of the Wabash, and the post of Vincennes on the south. In General Harrison's day, and later, it was no uncommon sight to see drunken Potawatomi and Kick-a-poos in the streets of Vin- cennes. Samuel R. Brown, who visited Vincennes about 1817, says: "There was several Indian traders — great numbers of Indians resort hither to sell their peltries. The tribes who frequent this place and reside on the Wabash are the Kick- a-poos, Miamis, Putawatomies, Shawnese, Weaws, and Delawares." Morris Birbeck, another learn- ed traveler says : "The Indians are encamped in considerable numbers round the town, and are continually riding in to the stores and the whiskey shops." The early accounts of the Iroquois, the Kanka- kee and the Beaver lake, all agree that at one time they constituted the great hunting and trapping grounds of the Potawatomi in northern Indiana. Beaver lake and its contiguous swamps abounded at one time with fur bearing animals, such as the muskrat, the mink and the beaver. "It was located almost wholly within the limits of McClellan township, in Newton county, Indiana," and, "as shown by the meander lines of the government survey, and as the lake existed before being ma- terially reduced by drainage, it was the largest body of water in the state of Indiana. Its great- est width from north to south was about four and one-half miles, and its greatest length from east 68 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI to west was about seven and one-fourth miles. It covered an area of about twenty-five square miles, or about sixteen thousand acres of land. In ear- lier times the water of the main body of the lake was perhaps six to ten feet deep, and abounded in fish of all varieties usually found in streams and lakes in this locality, and was especially re- markable for the number of buffalo fish that abounded in its waters." The party of land hunt- ers, heretofore mentioned, who accompanied the Potawatomi to this lake in 1824, described it as "a beautiful body of water, very clear and rather shallow, a delightful place for the Indians to hunt, fish and bathe. It was one of the principal camp- ing grounds of the Potawatomi Indians, and with the exception of the visit with their friends along the Wabash, the white men who were with the party, enjoyed the stay at Beaver lake better than all the rest of the trip." Is it any wonder, then, that we find a main line of travel, extending from the groves of the prairies, and from the trading posts, to and from these rivers and lakes where the savage went to supply his wants, and to se- cure those valuable furs which he found so useful in exchange? It is plain to be seen that Le Vas- seur and Hubbard exercised some degree of intel- ligence in establishing the early post of Bunkum on one of the main trails leading to these ideal trapping grounds. The travel over the southern part of this great trail, to and from the ancient village of Ouiate- non, must have been extensive. No doubt a large PATHS OF THE RED MAN 69 part of the traffic from Beaver lake went this way, keeping to the prairie route where fewer ob- stacles would be encountered in the journey, and taking advantage of the frequent groves and In- dian villages along the way. Fort Ouiatenon was one of the earliest French trading posts in the west. It was established, as Logan Esarey says, for the protection of the fur trade. "It is pos- sible," observed Sieur de Vincennes, "to send out from this post every year about thirty thousand skins." At this point also existed for several years an unscrupulous band of half breed French traders with whiskey, beads and trinkets, who took every advantage possible of the ignorant savages. But the Potawatomi were always fa- vorable to these French traders, who seemed to understand them better, were less brusque with them, and frequently intermarried with members of the tribe. This great Indian pathway is not without its historical interest. It played a conspicuous part in the shaping of the history of the northM^est. Over it, probably passed the renowned Shaubena, chief of the Prairie Potawatomi, to form a league with Tecumseh and the Prophet. This was in the spring of 1807, and was Shaubena's first meeting with that famous chieftain. The friendship thus formed was afterwards cemented by frequent in- tercourse. Shaubena was with Tecumseh at the great council with General Harrison, in 1810. In the fall of that same year, Tecumseh started out on his great mission of uniting the Indian tribes 70 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI against the further progress of the white man. He rode hundreds of miles across the forest and prairie, accompanied by three principal chiefs, and all were mounted on spirited black ponies. Their nearest route to Shaubena's village would be by the side trail leading from the site of the present city of Lafayette, west across the prairies to Parish's grove. There was a persistent tradi- tion among the early settlers of Benton county that Tecumseh had at one time camped there. This was probably the occasion. Shaubena after- wards related that Tecumseh arrived at his vil- lage on the Illinois river on a warm day in the early part of Indian summer. The trip across the vast expanse of prairie at this delightful sea- son must have been entrancing. The arrival of so distinguished a person as Tecumseh was no common event. "On the following day a favorite dog was killed, a feast made for the distinguished visitors, and the night spent with songs and dances." Shaubena accompanied Tecumseh on this occasion, on his visit to the Winnebagos of Wisconsin, and the success of that venture was afterwards shown by the presence of so many re- nowned Winnebago warriors at the battle of Tip- pecanoe, dressed in their gorgeous headdress of eagle feathers, and mentioned by General Harri- son as displaying the most conspicuous bravery. Along this famous trail undoubtedly passed many of those Potawatomi who took part in the terrible massacre of the garrison of Fort Dear- bom, on August 15th, 1812. Mrs. J. H. Kinzie PATHS OF THE RED MAN 71 in her vivid account of this affair, speaks of a party of Indians arriving from the Wabash. "These were," her narrative continues, "the most hostile and implacable of all the tribes of the Pot- tawattimies." Says Copley, "they brained innocent children, clinging to their mothers' knees, and then struck down the mothers, and with hands reeking with blood, tore their scalps from their heads even be- fore death had put an end to their sufferings." Such was the horrible fate that innocents often met, at the hands of these cruel and relentless savages. 72 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI tirije (Bib CI)tcaso Eoab HVER the trail of the savage passes the foot of the white man, and civilization dawns. A road is an artery along which flows the new blood that imparts life and vigor to a new country. It was the building of roads that enab- led Rome to extend her laws and establish her em- pire in the old world; it was by way of the Na- tional highway of the early days of the Republic that the west was finally conquered and perma- nently settled. The battle of Tippecanoe over ; the English in- fluence over the Indian tribes of the northwest forever removed ; the settlement and development of the great west went on apace. Soon the "prai- rie schooner" appeared, drawn by oxen, and bear- ing families and all their possessions over the roads of the wilderness. From the time of the opening of the United States land office at Craw- fordsville, prior to 1828, the development of the country in the northern part of Indiana was ex- ceedingly rapid. "Crawfordsville," says Logan Esarey, "became the converging point for all settlers northwest of the Capital. The first set- tlers of Lafayette and Delphi, and what was then THE OLD CHICAGO ROAD 73 called the Upper Wabash country, made their way from the upper White-water valley across by Andersontown, thence down White river to Strawtown, near Noblesville. There they took the wilderness road, by Thomtown, to Crawfords- ville. From White river to Crawfordsville, there was not a white man's house along the trace in 1825." With the rough pioneer roads extending to Crawfordsville, and later on to Lafayette, there came a demand for the opening up of highways north of the Wabash river. General Harrison's soldiers on their historic march to the battlefield of the Tippecanoe, had discovered blue-grass in the prairies of Vermilion and Warren counties, and they had been wonderfully impressed with the vast areas of open plain containing rich and productive soil. General Tipton had recorded in his rather rough and illiterate diary, that the troops of Harrison, on the morning after the bat- tle of Tippecanoe, had discovered a "grait Deal of corn" at Prophet's Town ; that after loading six wagons with corn, the troops had destroyed the balance, estimated at two thousand bushels. These facts became generally known with the return of the troops to southern Indiana and Kentucky. Great reports had been made of a virgin land, filled with pleasant groves. Deer were known to abound, and all kinds of wild game. Discerning men, even at that day, saw great possibilities ahead for the grazing of herds. Some of the prai- rie groves contained springs; others were located 74 THE LAJ^D OF THE POTAWATOMI on the banks of running streams. Here was water and fuel, and refuge from the storms of the prai- rie. With Jthe development of markets, their greater accessibility, all things were possible. Long before the "40's" had arrived, men were pre- dicting the coming greatness of the old Post of Chicago. There was the old line of the Potawato- mi trail from Kick-a-poo to Post Chicago, and another ill defined trail leading into this from the vicinity of Lafayette, but no roads. Accordingly, we find the legislature of 1829 ap- propriating the sum of seven hundred and fifty dollars "to extend the location of the state road from Indianapolis to Crawfordsville, so that it shall run to Williamsport, in the county of War- ren, from thence to the state line, in a direction to Chicago." This was the establishment of what has since that time been known as "The Chicago Road." From Williamsport it passed in a general northwesterly direction past the site of the pres- ent town of Boswell, to Parish's grove, which it entered at the southeast corner; from thence it passed over the prairies for a distance of eight miles to Sugar grove; from thence it passed northwest to the state line, near Raub. An exten- sion of this road into the state of Illinois passed on to Bunkum, on the Iroquois river, intersect- ing at that point what was called "Hubbard's Trail" to Chicago. To the settlers who later haul- ed produce and drove cattle from Crawfordsville and Williamsport to Chicago, the whole road from Crawfordsville to Chicago was known as "The ^ ? THE OLD CHICAGO ROAD 75 Chicago Road." From Parish's grove on into Chi- cago, the line of the old trail of the Potawatomi, and the line of "The Chicago Road' 'were practi- cally identical. Men who traveled it in the later days had scarcely heard of such a thing as a trail. If you would examine the Colton map of 1838, printed in this volume, you will plainly see the lines of three roads, all entering Parish's grove. The one farthest to the left is the old state road from Williamsport and Crawf ordsville ; the one in the center, passing through Rainsville, is the old Potawatomi trail, extending from Kick-a-poo to Parish's grove, over which Berry Wricker and his companions traveled in 1824 ; the one to the right is the Lafayette road, running from Lafay- ette to Parish's grove, and crossing Big Pine creek. This Lafayette road followed the line of the old trail extending south and east from Parish's grove to Ouiatenon and the Wabash. By consult- ing the map, the markings of the trail as it runs northwest from Parish's grove, may be plainly seen, and also the point of intersection with Hub- bard's trail, which is the first trail west of the state line. The point of intersection, however, should be at the Iroquois river, instead of farther south, for Hubbard's trail was first established from Bunkum on the Iroquois, north to Chicago. The extension of the trail south from Bunkum oc- curred in later years. Over these roads and trails from the south and east came a large portion of the early settlers 76 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMl that settled Warren and Benton counties, and many passed on into Newton, Lake and Porter. From the early "40's" a steady stream of emigrant wagons from the south began to roll over the prai- ries toward Illinois, Iowa, Michigan and Wiscon- sin. There were whole months, when, at any time on any day, a "prairie schooner" might be seen traveling across the plains from Parish's grove to the northwest. The old trail suddenly assumed a national importance. From Ohio, Kentucky and all Indiana south of the Wabash, a tide rolled on that ultimately filled all the groves and prairies north of the Wabash, and overflowed into other and newer territories to the north and west. The amount of travel along this old trail in the "40's," and later, was greatly augmented by the constantly increasing number of wagons coming from Tippecanoe, Warren, Fountain, Montgom- ery and other counties, laden with produce for the growing market of Chicago, which had an outlet to the east by way of the Great Lakes. A promi- nent citizen of the early days of Chicago, speaks of the "Hoosiers" supplying a large share of the food supply consumed and shipped from that point, such as hogs, cattle, wheat, rye, flax and other articles of consumption. "The Chicago Road" became a great feeder to this growing lake port. "Prior to the year 1853," says John Ade, "at which time the railroad between Indianapolis and Lafayette was completed, and the Illinois Central began to run trains between Chicago and Kankakee, there would be in the fall of each year THE OLD CHICAGO ROAD 77 an immense amount of travel on the roads be- tween Lafayette and Chicag-o, mostly farmers' teams hauling wheat to Chicago, or coming back loaded with salt and groceries of all kinds, either for their own use or for the merchants who had purchased stocks of goods east and shipped the same to Chicago by way of the lakes. To accom- odate this travel, camping places, and in several instances, "taverns," as they were then called, had been established a few miles apart, all the way between Lafayette and Chicago," To this must be added a large volume of travel coming from points farther south along the Wa- bash and from Warren, Fountain and even Mont- S'omery counties. The list of "taverns" and camping places along this route for the accomodation of travelers is thus most interestingly told by Mr. Ade. "After leaving Lafayette, the first would be Oxford, at that time the county seat of Benton county. Par- ish grove was the next point; then Sumner's (Su- gar) grove, between Mud Pine and Sugar creek; then Bunkum, at which point there were two tav- erns, one on each side of the Iroquois river. The next was the Buck Horn Tavern, located near where the present to^^'n of Donovan, Illinois, stands. The next tavern was at the crossing of Beaver Creek, and the next was known as the Big Spring about half way between Beaver Creek and Momenre. Then on to Momence, at the crossing of the Kankakee River. The next general stop- ping place was called Yellow Head Point, said to 78 THE LAJ^D OF THE POTAWATOMI be named after an Indian who lived there, by the name of Yellow Head. The next point on the road was Blue Island, and then came Chicago, a dist- ance of about one hundred and thirty miles from Lafayette, and taking six to eight days to make the trip." It might be added that this Indian whom Mr. Ade speaks of as being named Yellow Head, was a drunken and quarrelsome savage who once caus- ed Mr. Gurdon S. Hubbard a great deal of trouble at Bunkum after imbibing a little too much fire- water, John Pugh, a late respected citizen of Warren county, when a boy fourteen years of age, made a trip over this road, which he persisted in calling "The Chicago Trail," in the year 1841. The party consisted of several men, horses and wagons. Peter Schoonover, grandfather of Judge Isaac Schoonover, at one time judge of the Fountain circuit court, accompanied the party and drove two yoke of oxen. It was the custom of those days to make the trip to Chicago in companies, in order to guard against the hazards of the journey, and to provide means of "pulling out" the other fellow in case he "got stuck" in the mud. To the eager boy of fourteen, this pilgrimage of ten or twelve days through the wilderness, crossing plains and rivers, sleeping at frontier taverns, and at last reaching the great lake and the Post of Chicago, was an experience that he remembered as long as he lived. The way was long and the journey difficult, as THE OLD CHICAGO ROAD 79 the ground was extremely soft and wet, and this made hard pulling for the teams. The elder Pugh had a load of about twenty-five bushels of grain, consisting of wheat and flax, the latter grain being much grown in the early days to subdue and rot the sod of the prairies. The market price of wheat in Chicago at that time was thirty-seven and one- half cents per bushel, and flax was seventy-five cents per bushel. Coming out of Warren county the wagon struck the main trail in the vicinity of where the town of Boswell now stands, and the boy remembered seeing a man come across the prairies in a wagon. The hoofs of a deer were sticking up above the top of the box. Deer were then very abundant. The first camping ground was on the northwest slope of Parish's grove, near the renowned tavern of Robert Alexander. The horses and oxen were watered at the fine spring of pure water, at the foot of the slope, which had made this a favorite camping ground of the Indians. Morning on the prairie was glorious. An early start was made, and the party arrived at Bunkum on the second evening and at Beaver Lake creek on the third. At Beaver lake creek the wagons mired in the bog, and were pulled out by Schoon- over's oxen. On the arrival of the company at Chicago, which was then a small place, Pugh re- membered of watering the horses at the lake front. The waves were very high, and at one moment the horses were splashing knee deep, and THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI at the next they would be standing on the naked sands. After disposal of their loads and doing some trading, the paiiy returned over the same route. Pugh recalled the bartering of seventy-five coon skins, the product of many a good night's hunt, and of his father buying a stove, which was then a curiosity, and some articles of wearing apparel. The whole party of travelers, however, were clad in homespun, the product of the pioneer looms of those days. The whole country from Warren county to the lake was then in a state of nature. Bogs and marshes were frequent, but in places the level prairie extended in unbroken grandeur for many a league. Wild game was extremely plentiful in the fall of the year. In the night time, when the wagons rolled along, the great flocks of geese and brants, aroused by the approaching teams, and arising from the ponds and low places, made a great noise and clamor. A TAVERN OF THE OLD DAYS 81 a Cabern of ti)e 0iti ©apsi ONE forever are the old time taverns, and the old time roads, but the history of one of the most famous road houses of that day, north of the Wabash river, will serve to bring to light some most interesting events con- nected with early travel, and the pursuit of wild game by hundreds of sportsmen who formerly flocked from every direction to the prairies of the north. Nothing was more natural than that a tavern should be established at the point of convergence of the three roads that formerly entered Parish's grove. Thousands of cattle and horses were driven over them to Chicago. Emigrant wagons were constantly to be seen lumbering over the prairies, drawn by gaunt horses or oxen, and gen- erally with a dog trailing along behind. Com- panies of farmers passed through with produce, or were wending their way homeward from the city on the lake with their purchases. Hunters came here with fleet footed horses and packs of well trained hounds to pursue deer and wolves. Robert Alexander was formerly the keeper of a ferry at Lafayette. He came to Parish's grove 82 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI about 1836 and established his tavern on the west- ern side, on high ground, commanding a view of the prairies and the Chicago road to the north- west. West of this tavern a short distance was a spring of good water, at which travelers watered their horses, and procured a fresh supply for the journey. The tavern itself was unpretentious, but meat and provisions could be secured there, and a part of the travelers, if they were not too numer- ous, could be accomodated with lodgings. There were two or three bedrooms, and plenty of blan- kets. Sometimes cots were made on the floor. To add to the good cheer of the place, there were two large open fireplaces, and he who had ridden in the chill autumn air of the prairies, might light his pipe and watch the great logs bum. There was a "bar room," and Alexander kept plenty of good whiskey. Early in the "40's" the Washing- ton Temperance Societies were rampant and Alex- ander had six indictments returned against him in 1841, in the newly established court at Oxford, In- diana, for selling certain gills of whiskey to cer- tain named persons; but good cheer continued long after that. Alexander was florid of count- enance, told a story well, and occasionally rounded out his sentences with a ferryman's oath. His business flourished. One who entered the grove at night fall, while the season of travel was on, saw horses and wagons, men, women, children, and even dogs, in great numbers. The camps of the emigrants were generally established close to the tavern and the spring. At times the whole A TAVERN OF THE OLD DAYS 83 western side of the woods was lit up and illumi- nated with the camp fires. But the stirring times in the history of the old tavern were when the parties of hunters with horses and hounds came out from Chicago, Indian- apolis, Lafayette, and even from as far south as Cincinnati and Louisville, with guns, horses and packs of hounds. Many came to engage in the chase. Sportsmen of national reputation often came there. Others came to hunt geese and ducks. Great numbers came in the fall of the year to hunt the prairie chickens, and this was probably the most entertaining of all the plea- sures of the field. Judge James Hall has described an early morn- ing scene on the great prairies with so much fidel- ity that we cannot refrain from copying it here. "If it be the spring of the year, and the young grass has just covered the ground with a carpet of delicate green, and especially if the sun is rising from behind the distant swell of the plain, and glittering upon the dew drops, no scene can be more lovely to the eye. The deer is seen grazing quietly upon the plain; the bee is on the wing; the wolf, with his tail drooped, is sneaking away to his covert, with the felon tread of one who is conscious that he has disturbed the peace of na- ture ; and the grouse, feeding in flocks, or in pairs, like the domestic fowl, cover the whole surface — the males strutting and erecting their plumage like the peacock, and uttering a long, loud, mourn- 84 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI ful note, something like the cooing of the dove, but resembling still more the sound produced by passing a rough finger boldly over the surface of the tambourine. The number of these fowls is astonishing. The plain is covered with them ; and when they have been driven from the ground by deep snow, I have seen thousands — or more, prob- ably tens of thousands — ^thickly clustered in the tops of the trees surrounding the prairies." The scene above described, in its entirety, was particularly applicable to the grand prairie north of the Wabash until as late as the early 70's. No one in this age may even conceive of the vast num- ber of prairie chickens, or pinnated grouse, that covered the plains. It was possible to shoot them in numbers from the bed of a wagon driven through the prairie. They got up almost at the horses' feet. The sport of shooting these birds was keenly relished, but thousands of them were slain uselessly, and those who murdered the young birds before they had arrived at a proper age, were poor sportsmen. "The story of the pinnated grouse," says Van Dyke, "is the story of the prairie, interwoven with that of the buffalo, the Indian, the white man's gun and the plow of civilization. The buffalos, which for countless years held undisputed sway over the broadest country out of doors, were first to go." Only a few scattering flocks of these birds now remain north of the Wabash. With the coming of a denser population, and the breaking up of the prairies, they gradually began A TAVERN OF THE OLD DAYS 85 to disappear, moving farther west and following the frontier, but in the days of Alexander's tav- ern, and much later, the hunting of the prairie chicken was one of the principal sports of the fall season, and brought men, dogs and guns from far and near. John Reynolds, governor of Illinois, during the Blackhawk war, in speaking of the prevalence of wild game on the early prairies of Illinois, says : "Wild fowls in pioneer times were very numerous. In the fall and spring, great numbers flew over us north and south, and at times the air was al- most darkened with them. The fowls generally flew in order, and assumed the form something like the letter "V," point foremost. One alone is generally in front, and the two lines are ex- tended back from the foremost patriarch of the flock." He who has not seen these great flying squadrons of geese and brants, literally filling the whole air, and emitting their sharp cries until the whole sky was filled with their clamor; who has not heard their wild honking on dark and stormy nights when they seemed to have lost their bear- ings, and were wearily seeking a haven of rest; or who, as a boy, has not lain awake long after their cries had passed on into the darkness, and wondered where they were going, and whether the old gander who was always at the head, would pilot them safely out of danger, has missed pleas- ing sights and recollections. The great marshes of the Kankakee and Beaver lake swarmed with millions of geese, ducks and brants. In the early 86 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI 70's and 80's, when the grain fields began to ap- pear on the prairies to the south, and fields of corn would often-times remain unhusked over the win- ter and until the following spring, the geese would make daily pilgrimages to the south to feed, appearing in the northern horizon early in the morning, and flying to the north again late in the evening. To estimate the numbers would be impossible. There were thousands upon thou- sands of them, all in "V" formation, and with the great ganders in the lead. If the wind was high and the flocks were beating against it, they tacked like a sailing vessel at sea, sometimes flying so low that you could almost see their eyes. Thou- sands of them were slain by the guns of hunters, but with the growth of the country the great flocks disappeared and one of the most pictur- esque features of the early prairies was forever gone. Many strange and curious tales greeted the ears of the hunters who made their rendezvous here in the early times ; tales told by the landlord to his guests as they sat smoking and drinking before the cheerful blaze of the logs. There were great fires on the prairie that ran through the dry grass with the speed of a horse, carrying death and destruction to many forms of animal life; there were terrible blizzards that swept across the open plains in the winter. The velocity of the winds during these storms, with nothing on the open plains to obstruct or retard their fury ; the blinding drive of the fine snow, obscuring A TAVUiiN OF THE OLD DAYS 87 everything, and penetrating the heaviest gar- ments, the bitter cold benumbing the limbs — meant speedy death to him who lost his way. A lone horseman had started late one day for Sugar grove. The blizzard came on and he lost his way. Weeks afterward his body was found buried in the entrails of his horse. He had slain the animal and burrowed in to escape the cold, but had miser- ably perished. Alexander did not exaggerate in this instance. A pioneer relates that in later days and after Alexander's time, a blizzard occurred that piled up the snow on the prairie so deep, that he was forced to remain at Parish's grove for a period of ten days. Another instance of lost tra- velers killing their horses and attempting to save themselves by burrowing into the carcass, is re- corded in the history of Lake county. But the more interesting narratives were those relating to the Indians. They had regarded this grove as a great camping ground and had aban- doned it with reluctance. The abundance of game on every hand, the plentiful supply of wood, and the running streams of water had made it an ideal location. Flint arrowheads in great abundance, and stone hatchets, had been discovered here; to the west of the spring was an old burial ground, and straggling bands of Indians still came there to dance about the graves. The Indians that came, however, were sadly lacking in that boldness and sagacity that had marked their ancestors. With the breaking up of the great confederacy of Tecumseh, the warriors 88 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI had lost both leadership and spirit, and the fright- ful ravages of fire-water had made them degener- ate. They were now but a handful of despised and miserable outcasts in their own land, fast passing into oblivion and forgetfulness. Among the members of one of the degenerate bands was an old Kickapoo by the name of Parish. Either to escape his crimes, or to hide his face forever from his fellow men, he had fled to this grove. In the top of an enormous walnut tree on the summit of a high crest, he had erected a scaffolding, some say to protect himself from the mosquitoes. He was a drunkard, and tradition said that one day, while in a drunken stupor, he fell from his lofty perch, and that his life was dashed out on the ground below. Besotted as he was, the grove was given his name. The tree that he fell from, and the markings of his burial place, were long afterwards pointed out to the curious. The tree from which Parish fell was of enormous proportions, being six feet in diameter, and twen- ty-one feet in circumference. A man from Kent- land bought a piece of it, thirty feet in length, and two inches thick, to be used as a counter in a store. Other tales were told of great flocks of wild pigeons which were so thick as to obscure the sun. Wild turkeys were also found in this grove in the days of Alexander, and later. A flock of wild tur- keys was driven by the farmers of Warren county across the prairies and into this grove, and many of them were slain there. THE GRAND PRAIRIE 89 ^\)t #ranb prairie lyyuM N Sunday, the 3rd day of November, 1811, General Harrison's army, with scouts in front, and wagons lumbering along be- tween the flanks, crossed the Big Vermillion river, traversed Sand Prairie and the woods to the north of it, and in the afternoon of the same day caught their first glimpse of "The Grand Prairie," in Warren county, then wet with the cold November rains. That night they camped in Round grove, near the present town of Sloan, marched eighteen miles across the prairie the next day, and camped on the east bank of Pine creek, just north of the old site of Brier's Mills. To the most of them at least, the sight must have been both novel and grand; if they could have known then that the vast undulating plain before them stretched west- ward in unbroken grandeur, a distance of two hundred and fifty miles to the Mississippi river at Quincy; that these vast possessions in a few short years would pass from the control of the savage tribes that roamed over them, and would become the future great granaries of the world, producing enough cereals to feed an empire, what must have been their thoughts! 90 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI The magnitude of this great plain, now teem- ing with thousands of homes and farms, is sel- dom realized. Draw a line straight west from old Fort Vincennes to the Mississippi, and prac- tically all north of it, to the Wisconsin line is "The Grand Prairie." "Westward of the Wabash, ex- cept occasional tracts of timbered lands in north- em Indiana, and fringes of forest growth along the intervening watercourses, the prairies stretch westward continuously across Indiana, and the whole of Illinois to the Mississippi. Taking the line of the Wabash railway, which crosses Illinois in its greatest breadth, and beginning in Indiana, where the railway leaves the timber, west of the Wabash near Marshfield (in Warren county), the prairie extends to Quincy, a distance of more than two hundred and fifty miles, and its continuity the entire way is only broken by four strips of timber along four streams running at right angles with the route of the railway, namely, the timber on the Vermillion river, between Danville and the Indiana state line; the Sangamon, seventy miles west of Danville, near Decatur; the Sanga- mon again a few miles east of Springfield, and the Illinois river at Meredosia. And all the timber at the crossing of these several streams, if put to- gether, would not aggregate fifteen miles against the two hundred and fifty miles of prairie. Tak- ing a north and south direction and parallel with the drainage of the rivers, one could start near Ashley, on the Illinois Central railway, in Wash- ington county, and going northward, nearly on an THE GRAND PRAIRIE 91 air line, keeping on the divide between Kaskaskia and Little Wabash, the Sangamon and the Vermil- lion, the Iroquois and the Vermilion of the Illinois, crossing the latter stream between the mouths of the Fox and DuPage, and travel through to the state of Wisconsin, a distance of nearly three hun- dred miles, without encountering five miles of timber during the whole journey." All of that portion of Indiana lying north and west of the Wabash, is essentially a part of "The Grand Prairie." "Of the twenty-seven counties in Indiana, lying wholly or partially west and north of the Wabash, twelve are prairie, seven are mix- ed prairies, barrens and timber, the barrens and prairie predominating. In five, the barrens, with the prairies, are nearly equal to the timber, while only three of the counties can be characterized as heavily timbered. And wherever timber does oc- cur in these twenty-seven counties, it is found in localities favorable to its protection against the ravages of fire, by the proximity of intervening lakes, marshes or watercourses." On the Indiana side, the most pronounced of the tracts of prairie occur in western Warren, Benton, southern and central Newton, southern Jasper, and western White and Tippecanoe. Benton was originally covered with a great pampas of blue-stem, high as a horse's head, interspersed here and there with swamps of willows and bull-grass, while only nar- row fringes of timber along the creeks, and some five or six groves of timber and woodland, widely 92 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI scattered, served as land marks to the early tra- veler. Those who early observed and explored the grassy savannas of Indiana and Illinois, always maintained that they were kept denuded of trees and forests by the action of the great prairie fires. Among those who have supported this theory are the Hon. James Hall, author of The West, publish- ed in Cincinnati in 1848 ; the Hon. John Reynolds, former governor of the state of Illinois, and the Hon. John D. Caton, a late judge of the supreme court of Illinois. Caton's observations on this subject are so interesting and ingenious that we cannot refrain from making the following quo- tation : "The cause of the absence of trees on the upland prairies is the problem most important to the agri- cultural interests of our state, and it is the inquiry which alone I propose to consider, but cannot re- sist the remark that wherever we do find timber throughout the broad field of prairie, it is always in or near the humid portions of it, as along the margins of streams, or upon or near the springy uplands. Many most luxuriant growths are found on the highest portions of the uplands, but always in the neighborhood of water. For a remarkable example, I may refer to the great chain of groves extending from and including the Au Sable Grove on the east and Holderman's Grove on the west, in Kendall county, occupying the high divide between the waters of the Illinois and the Fox rivers. In and around all the groves flowing springs abound, THE GRAND PRAIRIE and some of them are separated by marshes, to the borders of which the great trees approach, as if the forest was ready to seize upon each yard of ground as soon as it is elevated above the swamps. Indeed, all our groves seem to be located where water is so disposed as to protect them, to a greater or less extent, from the prairie fire, al- though not so situated as to irrigate them. If the head waters of the streams on the prairies are most frequently timber, as soon as they have at- tained sufficient volume to impede the progress of the fires, with very few exceptions, we find for- ests on their borders, becoming broader and more vigorous as the magnitude of the streams in- crease. It is manifest that the land located on the borders of streams which the fire cannot pass, are only exposed to one-half the fires to which they would be exposed but for such protection. This tends to show, at least, that if but one-half the fires that have occurred had been kindled, the ar- boraceous growth could have withstood their de- structive influences, and the whole surface of what is now prairie would be forest. Another confirmatory fact, patent to all observers, is, that the prevailing winds upon the prairies, especially in the autumn, are from the west, and these give direction to the prairie fires. Consequently, the lands on the westerly sides of the streams are the most exposed to the fires, and, as might be ex- pected, we find much the most timber on the east- erly sides of the streams." Local observation would seem to confirm the 94 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI judge's views. Parish grove, on the old Chicago road, in Benton county, was filled with springs, and a rather large spring on the west side of the grove, supplied water for the horses of the emi- grants and travelers who took this route to the northwest in the early 40's. Besides this, the grove was situated on rather high upland, where the growth of grass would be much shorter than on the adjoining plains. It is probable that this spring on the west side, and the springy nature of the highlands back of it, kept the ground moist and the vegetation green, and these facts, coupled with the fact that the grass as it approached the uplands would grow shorter, probably retarded and checked the prairie fires from the southwest, and gave rise to the wonderfully diversified and luxuriant grov^i;h of trees that was the wonder of the early settlers. Sugar grove, seven miles to the northwest of Parish grove, and stopping place on the old Chicago road, lay mostly within the point or headland caused by the junction of Sugar creek from the northeast and Mud creek from the southeast. Scarcely a tree is on the south- western bank of Mud creek, but where it widens on the south side of the grove, it protected the growth of the forest on the northern side. Tur- key Foot grove, east and south of Earl Park, for- merly had a lake and depression both on the south and west sides of it. Hickory Grove, just west of Fowler, in the early days, had a lake or pond on the south and west. The timber that skirted the banks of Pine creek, was heaviest on the eastern side. MASKOTIA, TITE PLACE OF THE FIRE 95 Maikotia, tlje $lace of tfje jFirc BHE savage, that true child of nature, speak- ing the language his great mother had taught him, called the prairie "Mas-Ko- Tia," or "The Place of the Fire." The name was appropriate, for those giant conflagrations, feed- ing on the tall, dry grass of the autumn savannas, and fanned into a fiery hurricane by the western winds, at night time illuminated the whole hea- vens, and sweeping onward with the speed of the wild horse, left nothing behind them but the black- ened and smoking plains. Imagine, if you will, thousands of acres and mile upon mile of the early prairie, covered in most places with giant blue-stem and the coarse blades of the bull-grass. A party of land hunters riding through Benton county in the fall of 1824 and following the line of an old Indian trail, found blue-stem so high that a horseman could tie the ends over the top of his head. An observer of the prairies around Danville, Illinois, testified that : "the grass grew so high that it was a source of amusement to tie the tops over the withers of a horse, and in places the height of the grass would nearly obscure both horse and rider from 96 THE LAI^D OF THE POTAWATOMI view." Now let the drought of August and the frosts of September come, and all the plain be turned to a russet and brown of dry, waving grass, and let some party of Indians set the prai- rie on fire to start up the game, or some unwary traveler let a camp fire start a blaze when a heavy wind is on, and almost in a moment a maelstrom of destruction is sweeping over the plain, licking up and destroying everything in its path. The rushing noise of the hurricane, the shoot- ing flames leaping fifteen or twenty feet in the air, the vast billows of smoke rolling up into the hea- vens, made these prairie fires a terrible sight to the early squatter, who, unless he had taken the precaution to plow some furrows about his prem- ises, and had burnt out the inside of the circle, or had adopted some other expedient known to the early settler, was likely to see the work of his whole season, ricks of hay, stacks of grain, fields of corn, and all else, destroyed like a flash. At night time, if one was at a point of safety, the spectacle was one long to be remembered. An advancing fire in the night time is thus described : "When a fire starts under favorable conditions, the horizon gleams brighter and brighter until a fiery redness rises above its dark outline, while heavy, slow-moving masses of dark clouds curve upward above it. In another moment the blaze itself shoots up, first at one spot, then at another, advancing until the whole horizon extending across a wide prairie, is clothed with flames that roll and curve and dash onward and upward like j 'H 1 . .-—J 1 i i *, • ' - J • r I*- O ?! :;; <^ tf- ^ i ^ «" S , o — , rr . S -tJ o -t! CS "^ -3 'V 03 ,9 O MASKOTIA, THE PLACE OF THE FIRE 97 waves of a burning ocean, lighting up the land- scape with the brilliancy of noon-day. A roaring, crackling sound is heard, like the rushing of a hurricane. The flame, which in general rises to the height of twenty feet, is seen rolling its waves against each other, as the liquid, fiery mass moves forward, leaving behind it a blackened surface on the ground, and long trails of murky smoke floating above." The vivid description above is given by Judge James Hall, an early observer of these great fires. His description is verified by Mr. Alonzo D. Sleeper, of Fowler, who was raised on the prairies. He lived in 1860 just west of the town of Oxford. To the north some eight or nine miles extended a long line of rolling uplands, con- stituting a long ridge just south of the present town of Fowler. A fire along this ridge at night lighted up the whole heavens so that a printed page could be read at the Sleeper home. "A prairie fire when first started, goes straight forward with a velocity proportioned to the force of the wind, widening as it goes, but the center keeping ahead; it spreads sideways, but burning laterally, it makes but comparatively slow pro- gress; and if the wind is moderate and steady, this spreading fire is not difficult to manage, but if the wind veers a point or two, first one way and then the other, it sends this fire beyond control. The head fire in dry grass and a head wind is a fearful thing, and pretty sure to have its own way unless there is some defensive xx)int to meet it." 98 THE LrAJS!D OP THE POTAWATOMI The early settlers on the prairie developed great sagacity in coping with these fires, but sometimes the wind was so strong and the veloc- ity of the fire so great that it seemed to leap all obstacles and forge ahead to the inevitable de- struction of the settler's property. The fire fight- ers were generally able to determine where the head of the fire was coming, by the volume of smoke and ashes flying, and the general outline of the flames. Starting at a plowed furrow, which was hastily run with a plow, or a cow-path, or roadway, or some other base of operations, a "backfire" was set that ran counter to the wind and met the advancing head, which then suddenly died out for the want of material. The fighters would then pass to the right and left and battle with the side fires as they came up, until all dan- ger was past. Great care had to be exercised, however, in starting the "backfire," for generally the currents of air in front of an oncoming prairie fire were very strong, and the backfire was likely to leap the furrow or cowpath used as a base, and go with the wind, and then the fighters had to hastily plow another furrow or go back to another point of vantage, if possible. Sometimes the "backfire" was not started in time to burn out a wide area in front of the advancing head fire, and then the madly rushing flames would leap the gap and rush on to the destruction of the settler's property. Strange to say, it is not recorded that any settlers' lives were lost in these great fires. The MASKOTIA, THE PLACE OF THE FIRE 99 trampling of men and animals around the set- tler's house and stable, and for some distance out from the same, and the fact that live stock generally kept the grass cropped down around the premises, and fields were plowed there, served to protect the settler's home, but the fires often de- stroyed long lines of his rail fences, great quanti- ties of stacked hay and grain, for in those days the grain was stacked, and leaped into the corn fields and stubble ground. It was to save these precious possessions that the fire fighters worked with both men and teams for long hours at a time, and until men and horses were both utterly ex- hausted. One of the strange sights on the early prairies was the great number of so-called "tumble-weeds," seen rolling across the plains by tens of thousands after the frosts and in the early days of the fall, when the first heavy winds blew. They grew on the early sod lands, were globular in form, and after the frosts, became brittle at the base and were easily detached and started rolling by the fall winds. These great weeds would roll up against the long lines of rail fences, and form a huge bank there, and the others would roll over, sometimes bouncing several feet in the air when driven by a heavy gale. This mass of tumble weeds against the rail fences, however, was a perfect fire trap, and many a mile of fence has been utterly destroyed by reason of them. One of the spectacular sights of the early days was the long lines of side fires burning out in the 100 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI prairies late in the night. It was very difficult to determine the distance they were away. They might be one mile or ten. But the long lines of shooting flames made you think, somehow, of ad- vancing armies, and lines of men. These were the armies of flame. An early traveler, Mr. John Bradbury, has ob- served: "That in a state of nature, these prai- ries were covered with a luxuriant growth of grass and herbaceous plants, affording a most abundant supply of food for the stock of the new settler; and it is worthy of notice, that any part of these prairies, when constantly fed on by cat- tle, becomes covered with white clover and the much esteemed bluegrass (Poa Compressa), as frequent pasturing seems to give these plants a predominance over all others." Following the early squatter on the prairies, came the large stock men, with their herds. The herds kept the long grasses down and blue-grass seized hold of the soil everywhere. The preva- lence of large pastures of blue-grass, and the growing acres of cultivated fields, gradually les- sened and finally did away with the danger from fires. GROVES AND PLAIN'S 101 N OTHING could be more delightful than the open prairie in the spring and early If^^^ summer. Stirred by the fresh morning breezes, the billowing grasses stretched as far as the eye could see, while a profusion of wild flowers filled the air with fragrance and added hues of violet and purple to a background of green. "A fanciful writer asserts that the preva- lent color of the prairie flowers is, in the spring, a bluish-purple ; in the mid-summer, red ; and in the autumn, yellow." Be this as it may, from the time that the first violets appeared under your feet in the spring, until you plucked the beautiful wild asters and goldenrod in the autumn, a rapid succession of flowers of all shades and colors be- decked the plains and added life and color to their wondrous beauty. "The gaiety of the prairie," says an early observer, "its embellishments, and the absence of the gloom and savage wildness of the forest, all contribute to dispel the feeling of lonesomeness which usually creeps over the mind of the solitary traveler in the wilderness." To relieve the eye, and add a pleasing variation to these plains of grass, little groves nestled here 102 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI and there on the bosom of the prairie, that on a bright spring morning, resembled islands of blue in a sea of green. To enter these groves, filled with the songs of the thrush and gay with the blossoms of the crab-apple and the wild plum ; to swing on the vine of the grape that entwined its ends about the tallest limbs ; to listen to the chat- ter of numberless birds and the caw of the great black crows that nested and raised their young there; to climb into the tallest hickory or walnut and catch glimpses of the prairie through the vis- tas of the woods, was to realize the pure joy of living. The groves of the prairies were generally located on the side of a pond, or had springs of water in them; sometimes a pleasant stream of water ran through them. The famous spring to the west of Parish's grove furnished an abund- ance of pure, fresh water to the emigrants and travelers on the old Chicago road. One entering this famous grove in 1840 would have observed trees of majestic height and proportions. Here appeared the burr-oak, elm, hickory and sugar trees, above all the massive and towering trunks of the black walnut. As you penetrated farther, masses of underbrush and tangled vines barred the way. You were entering the favorite haunts of the wild turkey and the partridge, which in the old Indian days had been numerous. In places you would have observed the underbrush and vines trampled down by the foot of the deer. The most surprising fact, however, was the sudden change in the contour of the ground. The sur- GROVES AND PLAINS 102 face was no longer regular like the surrounding prairie, but broken in places by sharp undula- tions and deep ravines. Nature stood forth here as wild and grand as from the beginning, present- ing on the one hand, woody glens and grottoes, scarcely touched at noonday by the rays of the sun, and on the other, ascending slopes, crowned with the tall colonnades of sylvan giants, from whose tops the whole panorama of the prairie ex- tended in the perspective. To many who lived on the prairies, however, the most beautiful time of the year, was the period known as Indian summer, when the Indian corn was ripening; when cob-webs floated through the air and hung from the tall joints of the blue-stem like threads of silver ; when an indescribable haze permeated the landscape and made the misty groves look far away and low on the horizon; when heat waves seemed to be dancing in the air far over the plains, and the sunsets were red and golden. The fairy groves were now changed to red and russet and brown ; all the prairie was now filled with dry, rustling grasses, and after these dreamy days were over, the great fires came and robed the prairie in black, for the coming death of winter. 104 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI CJje JPirst Pis Cattle=ittan i^orrt) of ti)t ^aljasl) HE first to utilize the open prairies north of the Wabash were the cattle-men. In closing this brief work, a sketch of Ed- ward C. Sumner, who bought the section of land awarded to Topenebee at Sugar grove, and who in his day was without question the largest pro- prietor of herds north of the Wabash, may not be without interest. To the right of the highway leading south from the village of Earl Park, Indiana, and on the sum- mit of a crest that commands the valley beyond, stands the figure of a man carved in stone. On approaching we find that the face of this figure seems to regard the whole plain to the south and west. The landscape is remarkable. Far to the southeast is the grove of the Indian Parish — in the summer an island of blue in a sea of yellow grain ; to the west of this the headlands of Prairie Green extending to the plains of Illinois. To the extreme right lies Sugar grove, at the foot of the Blue Ridge — and everywhere the fields of tassel- ing corn, the ripe harvest, and the wondrous FIRST BIG CATTLE-MAN NORTH OF WABASH 105 bounty of nature. Standing on this summit a lit- tle over a half century ago, one might have seen the curling smoke of the campers' fires ascending from these groves in the evening, and the white tops of their wagons gleaming on the prairies in the day time. Now, 'tis a vast panorama of fields and farms, schools and homes, and the face of the image gazing on the scene by day and by night, seems satisfied. This is the ripening and the glorious fulfillment of the dream of the past. The conception of the artist is indeed unique. Sumner, in stone, contemplates, where Sumner, in life, once moved. Tradition says that he first saw this plain from Parish grove in 1834, and rode over the prairie on horseback to Sugar grove. He was then a poor pioneer in a naked wilder- ness, without railroads and without markets. He lived to see the day when from this eminence he could view twenty thousand acres of his own land, and when a herd of two thousand cattle grazed in the valleys below. In his trip on horseback, he found a wood and some running water — two invaluable assets in the open prairie. Persever- ance, grim determination, and thirty years in the saddle did the rest. Where other men passed carelessly by, he found opportunity ; where others scattered to the winds, he saved. Riding over this hill with boots and spurs, just after the civil war, he half jocosely, half seriously remarked to a companion: "This is the top of Pisgah, from which Moses viewed the promised land." The appearance and characteristics of this man 106 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI are as interesting as his career. Sumner was a heavy man, nearly six feet in height, and of com- manding presence. His eyes were clear and gray ; his complexion florid. His hair was wavy and of a yellowish tinge, changing in later years to a silvery gray. His forehead was lofty, and his head large. In conversation, he frequently dis- played a nervous habit of slapping his knee with his hand, and then you saw the pent up force of the man. From 1876 to the time of his death in 1882, he rode about mostly in an old buggy. He drove two black horses and had four or five hounds following in the rear. He never loitered anywhere about his estate, but gave his orders directly, and drove on. In dress, Sumner was always scrupulously clean. He constantly wore a white shirt and cra- vat. In early days on his trips to Buffalo and New York with cattle he wore a silk plug hat, and this, together with his fine general appearance, attracted considerable attention. His favorite color was black. He used tobacco sparingly, and once told his men that he never touched a drop of liquor until he was forty years of age. This was remarkable in an age of drinking, and among cat- tle-men. His habits were regular. He retired early and arose promptly at four o'clock in the morning. He moved about the rooms with a candle, and always called his men. He gave orders in the men's room at about 5 :30 o'clock in the morning, and outlined the day's work. No man ever received a charge Sumner's monument. The figure in stone faces what was once a blue-grass prairie of twenty-five thousand acres, watered by Sugar Creek and its tributaries. Photo by Alexis Frech- ette, of Fowler, Indiana. FIRST BIG CATTLE-MAN NORTH OP WABASH 107 the night before. Among his men he was always popular, and those who associated with him per- sonally were always loyal to him. At times he lightened the monotony of the long evenings in the winter by playing cards with them. He loved a diligent man, but despised a sloth. He was never known to treat one who labored for him, dishonorably. In numerous ways, Sumner clung to old fash- ioned and odd ways. When he visited the bank at Lafayette, Reynolds would stuff his pockets full of check books. The next order in payment for cattle or grain would probably come in written on the margin of a newspaper or a piece of paste- board. He always maintained tfiat the man be- hind the check was the important thing. He car- ried in his vest pocket a short, stubby lead pencil, and with this he often wrote with hasty hand, orders and checks for thousands of dollars. He bought at one time a herd of one hundred and fifty cattle from a man near Frankfort, Indiana. He wrote a check on the margin of a copy of the old Chicago Times, and the payee got scared. The check was honored, however, at the Lafayette bank. He carried his money in a roll in his pants pocket. When asked for money by one of his men, he always went through the perfunctory process of feeling in one vest pocket and then in the other, where he invariably met with failure; and then he went after the roll. In handing over a bill, he always turned away his head, when the money left his hands. At one time Mrs. Sumner purchased 108 THE LAND OF THE POTAWATOMI a carriage for three hundred fifty dollars. It was the finest equipage on the prairies, and was hand made in Attica. Sumner considered this as ex- travagance, and was highly indignant. Still, he said nothing to his wife, as he always had the pro- foundest respect for her. His own tastes were simple, and this was the fixed habit of a life of industry. An old man intimately acquainted with Sumner, relates that he had a wonderful mind and mem- ory. He said that he remembered of reading to Sumner in the spring of 1861, Lincoln's First In- augural address. He was amazed to find that Sum- ner could repeat it almost word for word. With- out culture, he was keen and discerning, had a fine knowledge of men and human nature, a.n'-e*^ ,v V. 3, *<,,-.• .f' U ^. ^^ V S ^' '^ \'^'^^^Wf:^'> ^ ^^4- ^. rV ^o^'i- ,v^- •^:^ •-''*€t^.* /y ^ o •y ^ Deacidified using the Bookkeeper proces ■\^V Neutralizing Agent: IVIagnesium Oxide Treatment Date 1597 ■■V ^ ^^ <^^ ^*^ v' ^ -^ \\^ "-^ "' J^ . '^.^'""'' ^^^ °x. "' J^ ,, ^^ . . . - - y ^^ -•S' -b' V '7-' A^ V „ '?- C . -r-.- - '■ --J .: '■ I ^ •■ ■ - O V, ' ^ ' -' ■/' ••- -^o. <^ •^o / ■ • .>^ -r , 'i^ \tL. ,-•'' .0^ y-*. J^"" ^^ ' '..* • -^ ^ A .■-> ^>, ■ V , ^v;^ • *>* -V > ■ c^ A -j^ ; <<"\ " -Ob % N^-^. .0^ X- .^ V A^" x^ ^^'^ ' ■^ ,<^' -' b •^\ ^••^. .S O'- ^_. -b W'- OOSBS BROS. • , o JtlABy BtNDINS V » -7- ^vP -b ■/^ b .0^ :/ '' ■ V" ». •• •^ •\ , s r/' • b' v/'. A' '^; .G^- '- ■7- ^0' ' <: *■ ■ - o G o LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 010 744 806 8 1