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YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY Gift of
Prof, Taft

"I give thefe Books
\ /pf the founding ef .it CclUgi uu this Colony'^

Gift of
Professor William. H. Taft
191^

t i

The Autobiography of
Gurdon SaltonstaU Hubbard

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GUROON SAUTONSTALL, HUBBARD
AT- THE AGC OP Si
=* Q M *. P >T O T .^ ¦"..'¦¦ -^ => H- G . ' . t 3 >.- C M

The Autobiography
(?/^ Gurdon SaltonstaU
Hubbard
PA-PA-MA-TA-BE "The Swift Walker"

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
CAROLINE M. McILVAINE
LIbnrliui of the CMcaaro Historical Society

Tho Lakosids
Preis CMtin

R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY
CHRISTMAS, MCMXI

^uhli^l^m* pvtfact

IN procuring The Autobiography of Gurdon
SaltonstaU Hubbard as the subject for this
year's volume in the series of The Lakeside
Classics, the publishers believe they have found
a book of interest and value. The text of the
Autobiography is taken from the manuscript
of the original Diary, now in the possession
of the Chicago Historical Society, as it ap
peared in the memorial volume compiled by
Mr. Henry E. Hamilton in 1888 for circulation
only among the immediate friends of Mr. Hub
bard's family. This memorial volume has
long been considered of value to book collec
tors, and especially to those interested in the
history of the early Northwest. "We accord
ingly feel gratified that we have obtained per
mission for a reprint, and are thereby enabled
to give the Autobiography the wider circulation
that its interest deserves.
For the exhaustive Introduction, an acknowl
edgment of appreciation is due Miss Caroline M.
Mcllvaine, Librarian of the Chicago Historical
Society. Miss Mcllvaine brings to her task
an intimate knowledge of the history of the
Northwest, and, having enjoyed the friendship
of Mrs. Hubbard, is particularly well fitted to
prepare this edition for the press.

^I^li^f^tt^' preface

As heretofore, the series continues to be
the handiwork of the boys of the School for
Apprentices of The Lakeside Press, and the
book again goes forth to carry, at this season
of good wishes, the felicitations of the pub
lishers to their patrons and friends.
THE PUBLISHERS.
Christmas, 1911.

VI

ContentjS

, PAGE
Introduction  ix
Childhood. — Engagement with American
Fur Co. — Mackinaw  i
First Year in the Indian Country. —
Marquette Cross. — CmcAGO. — Fort
Dearborn  38
Mud Lake. — Isle La Cache. — Starved
Rock. — Fort Clark. — Encounter with
AN Indian. — St. Louis  41
Shaub-e-nee. — Wa-ba and Che-mo-co-mon-
ess. — Tippecanoe Battle Ground. —
The Feast of the Dead  5 a
Fishing in Muskegon Lake. — A Month
IN Solitude. — Lost in a Snow Storm. —
Death of Dufrain.  81
Kalamazoo River. — Cosa.— An Accident.
— A Visit.— Wolf Stories. — Crooked
Creek  107
Attacked by an Indian. — Alexis St.
Martin. — Sleeping Bear .... 135
Pa-pa-ma-ta-be. — From St. Joseph to the
Kankakee.— " Hubbard's Trail. "—
Under the Ice. — Peoria and St. Louis 141
1834. — Placed in Charge of the Illinois
River Trading Posts  iS3
Trouble with Yellow Head.— Danville.
—"Winnebago Scare."— In the Ohio
River.— Ka-nb-kuck  160

%ntm\xction

PROBABLY no one life presented so many
of the phases of Chicago's life-drama as
did that of Gurdon SaltonstaU Hubbard.
The brief autobiography here reprinted deals
with the earlier years only. It remains for us
to round out the picture by a swift review of
the later scenes, and to try to so adjust the
focus that we may see the picture as a whole
and realize its relation to our own lives.
Bom in Vermont, a descendant of the Con
necticut colonial governor, Gurdon SaltonstaU,
who was great-grandson of Sir Richard Sal
tonstaU, Gurdon Hubbard bore, so far as
ancestry is able to imprint it, the stamp of the
metal from which America has been molded.
But there was something else about Gurdon
Hubbard than that which can be accounted for
by ancestry.
Leaving his adopted home in the Canadian
wilderness at the age of sixteen, to descend
with the voyageurs of the American Fur Com
pany through the waters traversed only a trifle
over a century before by the explorers La
Salle and Tonty, intimate as a brother with the
Indians, and yet able to defend the whites
from their treachery, possessed of the strength
and skill of the former, with the diplomacy
ix

S'ntrotiuction

and aplomb of the latter, swift of foot, huge
of stature, Hubbard seems as he looms up in
history like the survivor of somc former race,
— a giant whose youthful adventures might
have been passed on by tradition, as of a
being more than human. Something he un
doubtedly imbibed from the Indians, which,
added to his own firm fiber, made him the
hero that he was in the estimation of his con
temporaries, and rendered him, in a very true
sense, a representative American. That he
was able to adapt himself to civilization, and
to infuse into others something of the fire
which burned within him, is in large part, we
believe, the secret of much of Chicago's
extraordinary advance. If we have moved
at a rapid pace, it is perhaps because that
pace was set by Pa-pa-ma-ta-be, "The Swift
Walker." Having passed the period of his apprentice
ship as a fur-trader while still a mere boy,
Gurdon Hubbard was formally appointed to
conduct a trading station on the Iroquois
River in Illinois, for that same company, and
later assumed the superintendence of all their
posts on the Iroquois and Kankakee rivers and
their tributaries, with headquarters at Dan
ville. This, of course, involved annual trips to
Mackinaw, the headquarters of John Jacob
Astor and his colleagues, the descent of Lake
Michigan in open Mackinaw boats, a short
stop at Chicago, and then the rivers and prai-

3Pntrotiuction

ries of Illinois, with few but savages for friends
at the outset. In 1827 Mr. Hubbard was ad
mitted to a share in the profits of the Ameri
can Fur Company, and in 1828 bought out
their entire interests in Illinois.
Just what the American Fur Company meant
to Illinois it is difficult for us of the present
to realize. But when we reflect that the few
white settlements sprinkled here and there in
the wilderness would have been practically out
of touch with the world save for the river
traffic carried on by this first of American
"trusts," and when we remember that the
Indians were held in check not so much by
force as by the self-interest of trade, we con
ceive its import to our forebears, not merely
from the trade standpoint, but from the human
side as well.
Gurdon Hubbard was the last representative
of this primitive form of barter in Illinois.
But if last in point of time, he was first in
initiative. He might be called the first com
mercial traveler, in the modem sense. Before
his time the buyer had to come to the goods.
Hubbard instituted the principle of carrying
the goods to the buyer, not merely in bring
ing down the river, but in transporting them
overland. Scuttling his Mackinaw boats in
the South Branch of the Chicago River, as he
narrates, he proceeded on foot to Big Foot's
Lake (now Lake Geneva), procured pack-
ponies, and wended his way down to the
xi

gfntroljuction

Wabash, dotting the plain with trading-posts
as he went.
The highway thus established was known
as "Hubbard's Trail," and was for years the
only well-defined road between Chicago and
the Wabash country. Although Danville was
his official headquarters at this time, Chicago
was the objective point whither his supplies
were brought by water, and whence they were
shipped to the East. It is said that "subse
quent to 1822, no person lived about the
mouth of the Chicago River who did not know
this young, brave, and vigorous fur-trader."
The more picturesque features of our hero's
history ceased with the cessation of the fur
traffic in Illinois, when the red man, after the
last brave stand of Black Hawk, withdrew to
reservations beyond the Mississippi. Here
his own account leaves off. But the rest has
become part of the recorded history of the
state. Moreover, his widow survived until
within a few years, and the present writer has
listened to tales of the later times from her
lips. So short has been the space between
the primitive and the advanced stages of Chi
cago's "civilization."
Not to every man is it given to bridge
with his Hfe-span the chasm between two
epochs of history. In the year that Gurdon
Hubbard first visited Chicago, Illinois emerged
from territorial swaddling-clothes. In that
same year died George Rogers Clark, whose

xn

STntrotmrtion

defense of the country northwest of the Ohio
had saved us from British dominion. Before
Gurdon Hubbard died, the Civil War had been
fought, and Chicago had been transformed
from a palisaded fort surrounded by savages
to the metropolis which in only five years
would be selected as the site for the World's
Columbian Exposition. Andreas, in his His
tory of Chicago, has stated that "only a single
man [Gurdon Hubbard] became identified with
the modern commerce and trade of the city,
who had been connected with the rude Indian
traffic which centered in Chicago in the earlier
times." Sensing the coming change, Hubbard had
begun, long before he made Chicago his perma
nent residence, to provide the Chicago market
with pork. He was, in fact, the first ' 'packer' '
purveying to this port. Collecting hogs from
far and wide, he would store them on the river
front, and whether because of the honesty of
the early inhabitants, or the esteem in which
Hubbard was held, these carcasses would not
be molested though they remained an entire
winter in the open, as in the winter of 1828-29.
Prosaic ? Perhaps, but not so the far-reaching
principle of taking the merchandise to the mart,
and the sagacity which taught this backwoods
man where that mart was destined to be. In
1834 Gurdon Hubbard went to Chicago to
remain for the rest of his life, becoming known
as the largest packer in the West.
xiii

S^ntrotiuctioii

Upon the corner of La Salle and South
Water streets, which at that time seemed very
far west, he erected a large brick building,
the first of its kind in the city. No sky-scraper
of the present day ever called out the comment
excited by this structure. There were only
about five or six hundred inhabitants in the
village, and what could a man want with a co
lossal building like that? It was christened
"Hubbard's Folly," and stood up there a
laughing-stock for all the world. In it Mr.
Hubbard began to store his pork and other
produce, but in quantities greatly in excess of
the immediate needs of the townspeople. How
did he expect to get rid of it ?
Mr. E. O. Gale in his Reminiscences of Early
Chicago has a picturesque account of the arrival
off Chicago's shore, on the 25th of May, 1835,
of a certain tight little brig. Illinois, bringing
himself and brother William with their parents,
and, among other well-known families, that of
our lamented friend and "oldest citizen,"
Fernando Jones. The brig being unable to
land in the then condition of the harbor, the
passengers found themselves conveyed to land
by lusty French Canadians in birch-bark
Mackinaw boats, which also served as lighters
for the cargo, the whole, together with the
household goods of the passengers, being de
posited at a certain large warehouse a little
way up the river. Quoting Mr. Gale's charac
teristic manner of narration :
xiv

S^ntrotiuction

"As soon as we arrived at the warehouse,
we noticed a rather large man, put up in fine
shape for an athlete, with dark hair and eyes,
prominent nose, high cheek bones, large, firm
mouth and strong face, showing great force
of character, but withal a voice and smile so
pleasing that we took to him at once, as a
child to its mother.
** 'Who is he ? ' we asked a by-stander.
" 'Why, that is the proprietor of the warehouse,
Gurdon S. Hubbard. He is just as nature
labeled him. He can outmn or outwalk any
Indian, takes difficulties as you would dessert
after dinner, seems to hanker after them, is as
true as steel, with a heart as tender as any
woman's. He is worth five hundred ordinary
men to any town.' "
Mr. Gale asserts that the cargo brought by
the Illinois was the first cargo of general
freight ever landed in Chicago. The sea-
tossed passengers, after depositing their goods
at the warehouse, repaired to the Green Tree
Tavern. Apparently the utility of the big
warehouse was being vindicated.
In 1836 Mr. Hubbard built a warehouse
fronting on Kinzie Street and the river, organiz
ing the firm of Hubbard & Co., in which
Henry G. and Elijah K. Hubbard were asso
ciated with him. Not content with the irreg
ular craft occasionally visiting Chicago's wa
ters, they, with Pratt, Taylor & Co. of Buffalo,
establi^ed the Eagle Line' of vessels and
XV

S'ntrotiuction

steamers, plying between Chicago, Buffalo, and
the Upper Lakes. This is considered to have
beeh the first systematic carrying service at
this port. The forwarding and commission
business .of Hubbard & Co. was greatly ex
tended. The fated Lady Elgin, lost in i860,
the pride of the Lake Superior line, originally
cost nearly $100,000.
But Gurdon Hubbard was more than a mer
chant. In one corner of his warehouse in 1836
was the first bank in Chicago, a branch of the
Illinois State Bank, of which he was a director.
The first insurance policy ever issued in Chicago
was written by him in that year for the .^tna
Company, whose representative he remained
for over thirty years.
Illustrative of his leadership in civic matters
is the following item in The Chicago American
of October 10, 1835: "We understand that
G. S. Hubbard has ordered, on his own respon
sibility, a fire engine with the necessary appar
atus to be sent to Chicago immediately from
the East. Individual responsibility being the
only means offered for obtaining this important
instrument of protection, we trust our citizens
will avail themselves of this convenience by
establishing a fire company without delay."
The same man who swam the river to extin
guish the flames at Fort Dearborn in 1827,
during the Winnebago War, was the first to see
and supply the need of later days. We are
glad to know that his engine was soon put to
xvi

S'ntrotiuction

use as "Fire King Engine No. I," and that
another was added. Volunteer companies
were organized to draw the engines, and foot
races between rival brigades became a favorite
diversion in Chicago.
The first water-works in Chicago, located at
the foot of Lake Street, were operated by the
Chicago Hydraulic Company, incorporated
January l8, 1836, with a capital of $250,000,
Gurdon Hubbard being one of the incorpora
tors. Owing to the panic of 1 83 7 the works
were not in operation until 1 840, supplying the
South and part of the West sides with water.
The water was not of the best quality perhaps,
and the log pipes may have leaked a little, but
it was a brave effort in the right direction.
The city saw that it would work, and in 1852
bought out the company.
The spirit of "individual responsibility"
seemed to be the watchword of Gurdon Hub
bard throughout. It is interesting to note how
far the history of the city has been altered by
this element.
Chicago was incorporated as a town in the
year 1833. In the following year, the year
that brought Gurdon Hubbard here as a per
manent resident, the corporate limits of the
town were extended by virtue of an act adopted
February 11, 1834, so as to include "all land
lying east of State Street to the lake shore from
Chicago Avenue and Twelfth Street, except
the military reservation," which extended from
xvii

3^ntrotiuction

the river south to Madison Street. At the
election of August 1 1, 1834, Gurdon Hubbard
was chosen one of the town trustees, to serve
with John Kinzie, E. Goodrich, J. K. Boyer,
and J. S. C. Hogan. The city had gained in
territory, but it had also gained a citizen with
out whose aid Chicago might have remained a
village, while the metropolis was located else
where. This brings us to the epoch of the
Illinois and Michigan canal.
As long before as 1673, when the explorer
Joliet had passed through this region, he had
left a verbal record with Father Dablon as to
the feasibility of a canal which would facilitate
the passage from Lake Michigan to the Illinois,
and thence, as the enthusiastic friar adds, "to
China arid Japan. ' ' La Salle, who was intensely
practical, avoided the Chicago portage in
favor ofthe Kankakee, whenever possible, and
urged the Ohio and Wabash rivers as better
waterways to the IHinois Country, thus avoid
ing the long voyage through Lake Michigan.
Gurdon Hubbard himself, as a fur-trader, had
preferred the St. Joseph and Kankakee portage
to the "delays and hardships of the old route
through Mud Lake and the Dcsplaines." As
we have seen, he was the first to employ ponies
to transport his goods directly from the Chicago
River to the southern settlements. No one
knew better than he the need of a canal or
railroad. In 1822 Congress granted the right of way
xviii

^Fntcotiurtion

across the public lands "for the route of a
canal connecting the Illinois River with the
south bend of Lake Michigan," followed five
years later by the grant of 300,000 acres to aid
in its constmction. As representative of Ver
milion County in the Illinois General Assembly
of 1832-33, Gurdon Hubbard introduced a
bill for the construction of the Illinois and
Michigan canal. It was passed by the House,
but defeated in the Senate. He immediately
substituted a bill fo. a railroad, defeated by
only the casting vote of the presiding officer.
Every session of the legislature thereafter
found Mr. Hubbard present to urge the
passage of a canal bill, until it was effected in
the session of 1835-36. It is Hon. Henry W.
Blodgett who states that Illinois owes a debt
to Mr. Hubbard which has never been duly
accredited to him; namely, the settlement of
the question of the location of the terminus of
the canal. It had been strongly urged that
' ' it would be cheaper to follow up the Calumet,
to what is known as the Sag, and thence down
the valley of the Desplaines River, than to cut
through the hard ground between the south
branch of the Chicago River and the Des
plaines. After hearing the arguments upon
this point, Mr. Hubbard took a map and called
the attention of the members to the fact that
the mouth of the Calumet River is within a few
hundred yards of the Indiana state line, and
suggested that it was expected that wherever the
xix

S'ntroUuction

canal terminated, a great city would grow up,
and pertinently asked, whether it was desirable
that the coming city should be as much of it
in the state of Indiana as in Illinois, when the
entire .expense of construction would devolve
upon our state. This practical view of the
question settled it, and the mouth of the Chicago
River was made the terminus instead of the
mouth of the Calumet." Thus had the faith
and courage of Chicago's champion saved her
from a fate of possible mediocrity or extinction
as a city.
The first Board of Canal Commissioners
consisted of Gurdon S. Hubbard, William F.
Thornton, and William B. Archer, who served
until 1 84 1. When the first spadefuls of earth
were dug at the commencement of the canal
on the historic Fourth of July, 1836, the strong
hands and long arms of Gurdon Hubbard
wielded the spade, and the closing address con
sisted of his memories of the time when canoes
were the only craft plying on Illinois waters,
and the luckless trader who essayed the
"Chicago portage" must wade waist-deep in
the morass of Mud Lake, and spend his first
leisure moments in removing the bloodsuckers
which infested it.
It was impossible to exaggerate the impor
tance of the canal to Chicago. Instantly she
became the pivotal point of the commerce of
the West as then known, of the region of the
lower Mississippi, which had hitherto gone to
XX

^nttatnxttim

New Orleans for a port, and a nucleus for the
emigration which was to people the untraveled
areas of the Farther 'West. Chicago had
"arrived." The East reached out to us, and
even Europe became aware of our existence.
But the canal was not completed in a day.
That event did not occur until 1848. Mean
while the money was to be raised to pay, for
the work. Land had been apportioned for
this purpose, and it must be sold. A govern
ment land office was established in Chicago.
The expression "a land office business" has
a peculiar significance in this part of the
country, traceable to this period. Everybody
dealt in land. Whatever a man's other busi
ness, he carried real estate "on the side."
Chicago lots were bandied about like wheat
on the market. Perhaps no better idea of
the nature of the transactions can be given
than an account of a sale effected by Gurdon
Hubbard, which appeared in the Sunday Times
of October 24, 1875, as follows:
" Early in the spring of 1835, about the month of
March, Mr. Hubbard purchased, with two others,
Messrs. Russell and Mather, what has since been
known as Russell & Mather's addition to Chicago.
This tract comprised eighty acres, and was bounded
on the south by Kinzie Street, on the east by the
river, on the north by Chicago Avenue, and then ran
west to Halsted Street and beyond. For these
eighty acres they paid $5,000. At that time one
section of the prospective city was as desirable as
another, but time bas developed that this particular
eighty acres was one of the most undesirable within
xxi

S^ntto&uction

the entire territory now embraced within the city
limits. A few months after the purchase, Mr. HulJ-
bard had occasion to visit New York City, and to
his surprise found the rage for Chicago real estate
at a point where it might be called 'wild.' Having
sought and received the consent of one of the part
ners who lived in Connecticut, he looked up an
engraver, gave him such a sketch of the lay of the
land as he could call up from memory, had a plat
prepared, and from this plat, without any actual
subdivision of the land, sold half of it at public
auction for $8o,000. This within three or four
months after paying $5,000. News of this transaction
reached Chicago in the course of stage-coach time,
but it was generally discredited, until Mr. Hubbard
retumed with the positive confirmation; and the —
well, then, every man who owned a (garden patch
stood on his head, imagined himself a millionaire,
put up comer lots to fabulous figures, never could
ask enough, which made him mad that he did not
ask more."
The Chicago Historical Society, by gift of
one of Mr. Mather's descendants. Judge James
H. Roberts, has come into possession of what
appears to be the identical plat made by Mr.
Hubbard for that "addition," with manuscript
annotations in Mr. Hubbard's own large, firm
handwriting. Of course unscrupulous agents sprang up,
selling lots which did not exist, and too trust
ing merchants were induced to give credit on
paper Eldorados. Speculation finally passed
all bounds, and in 1 83 7, the very year of the
incorporation of Chicago as a city, occurred a
great financial panic. In all of the distressing
times which followed, the rock-like integrity
xxii

S^ntcotjucthm

of Gurdon Hubbard, together with his wide
acquaintance as a former representative of the
American Fur Company, stood Chicago in good
stead. He and others like him succeeded in
keeping the substantial business of Chicago on
a sound basis. The opening up of the agri
cultural resources of Illinois and the adjacent
states, furthered by the shipping facilities
newly inaugurated, prevented disaster, and at
last, in 1848, the canal was triumphantly
completed, with Chicago at its head, now a
well-known commercial center.
Gurdon Hubbard witnessed four wars during
his lifetime, — the War of 18 12, which occurred
in his childhood; the Winnebago War of 1827,
centering at Fort Dearborn, of which he him
self tells the story in the following pages; the
Black Hawk War of 1832, in which he acted
as scout, and furnished the provisions, am
munition, and transportation wagons for the
Vermilion County militia; and lastly, the
Civil War. For a record of his activities
in the latter conffict, we are indebted to a
Biographical Sketch of Gurdon SaltonstaU
Hubbard, read before the Chicago Historical
Society, April 16, ipo/, by Henry E.
Hamilton. . . Mr. Hamilton writes:
"Politically he was a Whig, and in the Log-Cabin
Hard-Cider campaign of 1840, he, with John H.
Kinzie, George W. Dole, and others, was selected as
a delegate to the Whig convention which was held
at Spnngfield. They took with them a full-rigged
ship, which was mounted on wheels, emblematical
xxiii

Sfntcotiurtton

not only of the Ship of State, but of the great com
mercial capital of this state, which they then believed
Chicago was destined to become.
"After the formation of the Republican party, Mr.
Hubbard transferred his allegiance to that party, and
with all his energy advocated its principles and
worked for its success. He had long been a
personal friend and admirer of Lincoln, and by his
efforts contributed largely to that gentleman's nom
ination. He was one of the committee that erected
the Wigwam, at the southeast corner of Lake and
Market streets, the building in which Lincoln was
nominated for the presidency in May, i860. Asso
ciated with Mr. Hubbard on that committee were
Charles N. Holden, Peter Page, Edward Ransom,
and Sylvester Lind. At the breaking out of the Civil
War, he gave freely of his time, and contributed
largely of his means, in raising and equipping the
troops, and was foremost in every enterprise organ
ized by the citizens to aid the government and pre
serve the Union."
Mr. Hubbard was himself commissioned a
captain of the Second Board of Trade Regi
ment (the 88th Illinois Volunteers).
In the year 1868 Gurdon Hubbard's great
packing house was destroyed by fire, and
he never resumed the business. Soon after
came the loss of the Superior, the steamer
which he owned in partnership with A. T.
Spencer, having many years before estab
lished a transportation line to Lake Superior.
In 1 87 1 occurred the Chicago fire, which
destroyed his property and his business,
leaving him financially crippled. From this
time he retired to private life, but not to
inactivity. xxiv

S'ntcotiuction

One of the founders of St. James' Church,
the first Episcopalian Church in Chicago, he
worked for its welfare until such time as the
growing conviction of belief in the principles
of the Reformed Episcopal Church caused
him, at much personal sacrifice in the way of
friends and prestige, to adopt the doctrines and
form of worship of the latter.
The Chicago Historical Society has many
gracious memories of Mr. Hubbard, who was
a devoted member of the society for many years.
The hospitality of his home was proverbial.
The writer recalls a story related to her by
Mrs. Hubbard, of entertaining a house-party
of friends from the East, when in their midst
one day appeared Shaub-e-nee, the Indian chief,
with his wife and grandchild. No thought of
turning away even this unexpected guest
occurred to the Hubbards, but, with true
pioneer tact, having nothing better, they
offered Shaub-e-nee the wood-shed, which to
him was a palatial dwelling, in which he re
mained in great state for three weeks. This
was during the last days of the old "Friend
of the Whites," and is only an added incident
of the many which show how long the mem
ory of kindness had persisted, and how much
both Indian and white man owed to the hon
esty and courage of him who never betrayed
a friend of any color.
We are told by some of those who had a
part in it that the home life of this man was,
xxv

^'ntrotiuction

if possible, more worthy of emulation than his
pubUc career. All energy and strength abroad,
he was all tenderness and solicitude at home,
watching over and anticipating the wants of
all hishousehold with almost maternal devotion.
In 183 1 Mr. Hubbard was united in marriage
to Miss Elenora Berry, of Urbana, Ohio, who
died in Chicago seven years later, six weeks
after the birth of their son Gurdon S. Hub
bard, Jr., still a resident of this city. In 1843
he was married to Miss Mary Ann Hubbard,
who had come to Chicago with her parents,
Ahira Hubbard and Serena Tucker, of Middle-
borough, Mass., in 1836. About this ideal
union romances might be woven, for Mrs.
Hubbard became a leader in the simple social
life that centered about the Kinzies, Ogdens,
Doles, Russclls, Hamiltons, Skinners, and
others of the old North Side circle whose gra
cious hospitality deservedly became traditional,
because it was truly gentle and sincere.
In 1868, when Mr. and Mrs. Hubbard cele
brated their silver wedding and the fiftieth anni
versary of Mr. Hubbard's coming to Chicago,
the guests at this thoroughly representative
gathering were requested to register their names,
with the dates of birth and arrival in Chicago,
and this album is now numbered among the
most precious treasures of the Historical So
ciety. At this period the Hubbard home, said
to have been the finest residence in Chicago
when it was built, stood surrounded by elabo-
xxvi

S'ntrolmttiott

rate gardens on La Salle Avenue, facing Lo
cust Street, and was one of the well-known
"places" of that day, when stately homes
set in grounds an entire square in extent
were characteristic of this section of the city.
Gurdon Hubbard died at the age of eighty-
four, September 14, 1886, and his funeral is
still remembered, for it filled St. James' Church
with the most remarkable gathering of early
residents ever assembled there. A massive
bronze tablet commemorative of his life was
erected in the Chicago Historical Society's
Building, by his devoted wife, shortly before her
death, which occurred in 1909. The tablet
bears the finely sculptured head of Mr. Hub
bard, framed between giant oak-trees, and
below the legend:
" Voices from afar off call us
To pause and listen."
This tablet, together with a short street on
the South Side, which bears his name, are
the only forms of public commemoration of
Gurdon Hubbard in Chicago.
It is with keenest pleasure, therefore, that
we see this autobiography — at once a monu
ment to its author and a contribution toward
the formation of Chicago's civic consciousness
— brought to light at this Christmas season
by The Lakeside Press.
Caroline M. McIlvaine.

xxvii

€l^e i^utoBtograpliti of
(0ut:tion ^altonistaU f ubbard

CHILDHOOD. — ENGAGEMENT WITH
AMERICAN FUR CO.— MACKINAW.
I WAS bom in Windsor, Vermont, August
22, 1 802 . My father was Elizur Hubbard,
the son of George Hubbard, an officer in
the war of the Revolution, and Thankful
Hatch. My mother was Abigal Sage, daughter
of General Comfort Sage and Sarah Hamlin,
of Middletown, Connecticut.
My first recollection of events was the great
eclipse of the sun about the year 1806, while
walking with my mother in the garden. The
impression made upon my mind by the strange
and unnatural appearance of things has lasted
to the present time. The white stage horses
that were passing, to my vision appeared yel
low, and looking up to my mother I discovered
that her face also appeared yellow, as did all
the surroundings. I was so frightened I did
not recover from it for some time.
I cannot remember at what age I com
menced going to school, but the fact of a dis
like for books, from that time up to the age of
thirteen, I do not forget. I was always plead
ing to be excused, and my indulgent mother

€I)c ^utoBiograpl^p of

too often granted my request. I was often
truant and escaped punishment.
My father was, by profession, a lawyer, but
having entered into some speculations about
the year i8lO, in the fall of 1812 he lost his
property, and my Aunt SaltonstaU invited me
to her house, and influenced her son-in-law,
the Rev. Daniel Huntington, to take me and a
boy of about my age to educate.
Accordingly, in November of that year, I went
to Bridgewater, Massachusetts, and entered
upon a course of studies, living in Mr. Hunt
ington's family, where my aunt also resided.
I was very deficient in my education, but
the winter passed pleasantly and I made fair
progress in my studies.
My father's misfortunes continued, and he
became very poor, vvhich I felt so keenly as to
make me miserable and discontented. I con
stantly pleaded to be permitted to return home,
and when, in the following winter, I learned
that my father had fallen into still deeper
trouble and had determined to go to Montreal,
there to practice his profession, I was incon
solable; and as I had lost all interest in my
studies, I was promised that I should return
home in the spring.
In the middle of the month of April follow
ing I started for my home, and a few days'
travel by coach brought me to my parents, and
about the first of May, 181 5, they, with their
six children, of whom I was the eldest, started

<0urbon J^altonje^taH ^ubhattx
for Canada. On reaching Montreal, my father
learned that he could not be admitted to prac
tice, as he was an American citizen, and by a
new law of the Dominion a residence of five
years would be required before he could be
allowed to practice his profession. He, how
ever, took a house and kept boarders, by
which, with the fees he earned as consulting
attorney, he received enough to barely support
his family, never having a cent to spare beyond
their necessary wants.
My first winter there I employed in small
traffic, buying from Vermont farmers the rem
nants of their loads of poultry, butter, cheese,
etc., and peddling them, from which I realized
from eighty to one hundred dollars, all of
which went into the family treasury. The
capital with which I embarked in this enter
prise was twenty-five cents, and was kindly
loaned me by Horatio Gates.
In the month of April, i8i6, my father
procured for me a situation in the hardware
store of John Frothingham, where I received
for my services my board only. I was the boy
of the store — slept on the counter, worked
hard, and attended faithfully to my duties, and
thus won the good will of all the clerks. I had
but one intimate friend outside of the store,
named John Dyde, whom I occasionally visited
evenings. His father kept a boarding-house,
where Mr. William Matthews, agent of the
American Fur Company, boarded.
3

€J)e ^utoBiograjJljp of

Mr. John Jacob Astor about this time in
structed Mr. Matthews to engage twelve young
men as clerks, and one hundred Canadian voy
ageurs, and to purchase a quantity of goods for
the Indian trade, to be transferred in batteaux
manned by these voyageurs, and to report there
with to Ramsey Crooks, manager at Mackinaw,
Michigan. This expedition was to leave Mon
treal early in May, i8i8, and to proceed as
rapidly as possible to its place of destination.
Visiting my friend Dyde one evening, he
told me of this, and that he was trying to
prevail upon his father and mother to procure
for him an engagement with the Fur Com
pany as one of the twelve clerks. He being
then but eighteen years old, his parents opposed
it on account of his youth, and Mr. Matthews
also discouraged the idea; yet he continued
his efforts, and finally obtained their consent,
and informed me of his good fortune.
The expedition was the subject of frequent
conversations between us, and I also became
desirous of being employed; my disposition to
go increased each time we met, and I finally
ventured to mention the subject to my father
and mother, but they only laughed at the idea,
saying Mr. Matthews would not engage John,
as he wanted men, and not boys; that John
was not eighteen and I not sixteen. And
though I was thus put off, I was not wholly
discouraged. Time passed on and April was near at hand.
4

<Suction J^altottiBftan I^ubBacti
¦ ' ' ' ¦"" ¦ ¦¦"¦  ^— .^i.^1 I I I ¦¦¦ ¦¦_¦¦ I I I v>a^^K^M
One moming John came into the store, his
countenance beaming with joy, and announced
that Mr. Matthews had promised to take him.
" Oh 1" said he, "I wish you could go with
me, but it is of no use to try. It was hard
work to induce Mr. Matthews to take me,
because I was not old enough, and besides I
am the twelfth, and the youngest by four years.
I am to get one hundred dollars advanced to
purchase my outfit. " I don't know what in
duced me to make any further effort, but I still
felt there was a chance.
I could not help crying, and when West,
the oldest clerk, inquired the cause, I told him.
"Why, Gurdon," he said, "you don't want to
go among the Indians. You could not endure
the hardships. What a fool you are to think
of it. Don't give it another thought. We all
like you here. Stick by us, and rise as you
will be sure to. Mr. Frothingham has not a
word to say agairfst you. He knows you have
done your duty, and in time will advance you.
So give up the idea."
Just then Mr. Frothingham came in, and,
noticing me^ asked what was the matter. I
did not reply, but cried. When West told
him, he said I had a foolish notion.
I requested leave of absence for the day and
night to go home (my father then living at the
foot of the mountain), which he granted. I
was not long in reaching home, though it was
about three miles.

€l)e ^utoBiograpljp of

My father was not at home when I arrived,
but I told my story to mother, and I thought
she was not as strong in her opposition as
formerly. When father came I broached the
subject to him, and he said I was crazy. I
said, "Crazy or not, I want to go, and will if
Mr. Matthews will take me," for which speech
I received a reprimand. This, however, did
not deter me. I kept on teasing for his per
mission until he finally said, "If your mother
is willing, you can go and see Mr. Matthews."
She put me off until morning.
I suppose they had a consultation. Indeed,
I know that they concluded that Mr. Matthews
would reject me. They both knew him, and
had both been to his office that day, where
my father was employed in writing articles
of agreement for the voyageurs to sign. My
father knew that Mr. Matthews had his full
complement of clerks.
In the morning I received permission from
my parents to go and see Mr. Matthews, with
the understanding that if he would engage me
they would consent to my going.
Now, the question was, how to approach
Mr. Matthews, and I formed many plans, but
finally, trusting to Mr. Dyde for an introduc
tion, and getting him to get his parents to
offer my services and intercede for me on the
ground of my friendship for their son, an inter
view with Mr. Matthews was had. He told me
that he had his full complement of clerks and
6

<i3utt)on ^altottjo^tan I^uBBatU
men engaged, and that I was really too young
to go; but he finally said tome, "If you can
get your parents' consent I will engage you for
five years and pay you one hundred and twen
ty dollars per year, more on account of John
Dyde than anything else, as he wants you to
go with him." I then knew the negotiation
was ended, as I had my father's word, which
never failed.
I sought my father and reported, and he
and my mother were sorely disappointed and
grieved, but offered no further opposition.
The agreement was soon thereafter signed,
and I drew fifty dollars which my mother
expended for my outfit. A part of my outfit
consisted of a swallow-tail coat (the first I ever
had) and pants and vest, all of which were
much too large for me, and designed to be filled
by my future growth.
The clerks were allowed a small wooden
chest in which to keep their outfit, for which
the company charged them three dollars; the
chest and contents weighed about sixty pounds.
In one of these my wardrobe was packed, with
other necessary articles prepared by my mother.
Every preparation having been made for my
departure, I reported myself in readiness.
Orders were issued for the voyageurs to
report on the 1st of May at Lachine, and the
clerks were to report at the same place on the
13th of May, at ten o'clock a. m.
Mr. Wallace, with three pr four clerks, was

€l|c ^utoftiograplip of

detailed to take charge of the loading of the
boats on May 1st.
On the 13 th of May, 1818, having bid adieu
to my mother and sisters, I started with my
father and brother for Lachine, where I arrived
about nine o'clock in the morning and reported
for duty.
The boats were all loaded, the clerks and
voyageurs were there, and many friends and
relatives had assembled to bid them farewell;
all were strangers to me, except my friend
Dyde, Mr. Matthews and Mr. Wallace.
To Mr. Wallace was assigned the duty of
arranging the crews, and detailing the clerks
to the different boats. Mr. Wallace was a
Scotchman, and was one of a party who was
sent by Mr. Astor to the Columbia River on
an expedition which was broken up by the war
of 1812. He, with others, returned overland;
their vessel, having been attacked by Indians,
was blown up by one of the men on board.
He was a man of large experience and of great
energy and capacity, and, like most Scotch
men, was a strict disciplinarian, with a power
ful will and of undaunted courage.
Though sixty-two years have passed since
then, I distinctly remember the animating and
affecting scene presented that morning. All
being ready for the departure, it was announced
that a half-hour would be given for leave-
taking, and during that time every man was
at liberty and under no restraint. Then came
8

<6uttion ^altoni^n !^udBatti
the parting embraces; tears and blessings being
showered on all.
Mr. Matthews had embarked in the largest
boat, which was gaily decorated, and manned
by a picked crew of voyageurs.
The time for leave-takings having expired,
Mr. Wallace, in a loud voice, gave the com
mand, "To boats all "; and in a few moments
all hands were aboard and pushing off from
the shore amid cheers and farewell shouts.
The voyageurs in Mr. Matthews' boat started
the boat song, which was joined in by all the
voyageurs and clerks in the expedition. Stout
arms and brave hearts were at the oars, and
the boats fairly flew through the blue waters of
the St. Lawrence River.
My friend Dyde and myself had been as
signed to the same boat, a favor we recognized
as coming from Mr. Matthews.
I cannot describe my feelings as I looked
back upon the forms of my father and brother,
from whom I was then about to be separated.
Nor did I, until that time, realize my situation
or regret my engagement. The thought that
I might never again see those most dear to me
filled my soul with anguish. Bitter tears I
could not help shedding, nor did I care to.
"When the boats stopped for lunch at noon,
the clerks were invited to meet Mr. Matthews,
and were then introduced to each other, Mr.
Matthews making a short speech to them.
Our lunch consisted of wine, crackers and

€fie ^utoBiograpIjp of

cheese, and in a half-hour from the time of
halting we resumed our journey.
About four o'clock in the afternoon we
camped for the night. The clerks all messed
with Mr. Matthews, in a mess-tent provided
for the purpose. One small sleeping tent was
allotted to four clerks.
The men had no shelter except tarpaulins,
which, in stormy weather,, were placed upon
poles, thus forming a roof. Log fires were
kindled at either or both ends, and each man
was provided with one blanket.
The voyageurs kept their clothing and tobacco
in linen or tow bags provided by the company
for that purpose. The clerks were supplied
with a thin mattress, upon which two slept,
and a blanket each, and a small tarpaulin in
which to roll up their mattress and blankets.
The tarpaulin also served as a carpet for the
tents. The men were fed exclusively upon pea soup
and salt pork, and on Sunday an extra allow
ance of hard biscuit. The tables of the clerks
were also supplied with salt pork and pea soup,
and in addition thereto, with tea, sugar, hard
bread, and such meats as could be procured
from tinie to time.
All took breakfast at daybreak, and .soon
after sunrise the boats were under way. One
hour was allowed at noon for dinner, and at
sundown we camped for the night, which made
a long day of hard work for the men, though
10

Ourtion J^altottjE^tan il^u&tiarti
they were occasionally allowed ten minutes "to
pipe," /. e., to fill their pipes for smoking.
Our boats were heavily laden, and our pro
gress up the swift St. Lawrence was necessarily
slow. Some days, when we had "rapids" to
overcome, three to five miles was the full day's
journey. And where the rapids were heavy,
the crews of three, and sometimes four boats
were allotted to one, seven or eight of the
men being in the water, pushing and pulling
and keeping the boat from sheering into the
current. Two men remained in the boat, one in the
bow, the other at the stern, with iron-pointed
poles to aid the men in the water, and to steer
and keep her bow heading the current, the rest
of the men on the shore pulling on a rope which
was attached to the bow. Yet with all this
force, the current at times was so strong the
boat would scarcely move; and the force of
the current would raise the water to the very
top of the "cut- water," and sometimes even
over the sides of the boat.
On several occasions, the boat and men
were dragged back until they found an "eddy,"
when all would stop and rest for another effort.
This work was very severe on the men, they
toiling from early morning until night, with
only an hour's interval at noon, and an occa
sional respite while stemming a swift current.
Great dissatisfaction prevailed among the
voyageurs, and, desertions becoming frequent,
II

€()c ^utoBtograpf^p of 
guards were established at night, consisting of
the clerks; and yet scarcely a morning appeared
that some were not mis,sing. We, however,
moved steadily along, making a daily average
of about fifteen miles, we clerks, sauntering,
whenever inclination led us, on the banks, or
sometimes inland for several miles, stopping
at houses occasionally and chatting with the
inmates, where we were always cordially re
ceived, and often treated to the best they had.
The news of the advancing brigade preceded us,
and we found them fully posted as to our com
ing. At one time we received a pleasant visit
from the late Hiram Norton, of Lockport,
Illinois, who then resided on the St. Lawrence;
and then began an acquaintance which in later
years ripened into a warm friendship.
Notwithstanding these excursions and the
beauty and variety of the scenery through which
we passed, our daily routine became extremely
monotonous. We were about a month in reach
ing Toronto, then called "Little York," a
small town of about three hundred inhabitants,
mostly Canadian French. By this time the
number of our men was greatly reduced by
desertions, and Mr. Matthews began to fear
that he would be obliged to leave some of the
boats for want of crews. The hard work,
however, was over, as from that point there
was no more current to hinder our progress.
Here Mr. Matthews changed our route, and
instead of passing through Lake Erie via
12

4Burtiott ^altonictan i^uBBatti
Buffalo, as was intended, he hired ox teams,
loading our goods in carts, and detailing most
of the clerks to accompany them over to what
was called "Youngs Street," to Lake Simcoe,
where we encamped and remained some two
weeks, until all our boats were hauled over
and launched into that romantic little lake and
reloaded. Two yoke of cattle were also put
on board one of the boats. We struck camp
and proceeded to the other end, where the
goods and boats, with the help of the oxen,
made the Not-ta-wa-sa-ga portage, into the
river of the same name. Though this portage
was only six miles, we were a week convey
ing our goods and boats across. During this
time we were nearly devoured with mosquitos
and gfnats. We were in an uninhabited wilder
ness, with no road over the low swamp lands.
Desertion among the men had ceased, for the
very good reason that there was no chance to
escape. All rejoiced when we were again in
our boats, and, with the current aiding us,
swept down the winding course of the Notta-
wasaga River. The worst of the joumey was
now over, and with lightened hearts the voya
geurs again lifted their voices and joined in the
melodious boat songs. We descended the
river to Lake Huron, which we coasted.
Early in the afternoon of the third of July
we reached Goose Island, and camped in sight
of Mich-il-i-mac-i-nac, "The Great Turtle,"
the wind being too strong from the west to
13

€fje ^utoBiograpfjp of

admit of our crossing the open lake. How
ever, as the island abounded in gull's eggs,
we spent an agreeable evening around our
camp fires, feasting on them.
As the lake was still rough, the morning of
the fourth being too stormy to venture across,
we devoted the time to washing, and dressing
in our best clothing, not so much in commemora
tion of the day, as of our joy at the sight of
that beautiful island where our wearisome voy
age was to end, thankful that we had been
brought in safety, without accident, through so
many difficulties and perils. We became so
impatient at the delay that about two o'clock
in the afternoon we started across, but the
wind continued so high that the passage took
about three hours, and we were unable to
round the point of the island, but were com
pelled to land on the east side, at the foot of
"Robinson's Folly."
Here we were met by Messrs. Ramsey Crooks
and Robert Stewart, the managers of the
American Fur Company, together with a host
of clerks and voyageurs, who extended to us a
cordial welcome, and thus we celebrated the
fourth of July, l8l8.
On this island lived old voyageurs, worn out
with the hard service incident to their calling,
with their families of half-breeds.
A few, only, of the inhabitants engaged in
trade. Mrs. Mitchell, an energetic, enterpris
ing woman, the wife of Dr. Mitchell, a surgeon
14

oBurtion ^alton^taH l^uBBatti
of the English army; and stationed at Drum-
mond's Island, had a store and small farm.
Michael Dousman, Edward Biddle, and John
Drew were also merchants, all depending on
trading with the Indians.
These merchants, to a very great extent, were
under the influence of the American Fur Com
pany, purchasing most of their goods from
them, and selling to them their furs and peltries.
This island was the headquarters of the
American Fur Company, and here I first learned
something of the working and discipline of
that mammoth corporation, and took my first
lessons in the life of an Indian trader, a life
which I followed exclusively for ten consecu
tive years. Here, also, was located Fort
Mackinaw, at that time garrisoned by three or
four companies of United States troops. The
village had a population of about five hundred,
mostly of Canadian French and of mi.\ed Indian
blood, whose chief occupation was fishing in
summer and hunting in winter. There were
not more than twelve white women on the
island, the residue of the female population
being either all or part Indian. Here, during
the summer months, congregated the traders
employed by the Fur Company, bringing their
collections from their several trading posts,
which extended from the British dominions on
the north and the Missouri River in the west,
south and east to the white settlements; in
fact, to all the Indian hunting grounds, so that
15

€l&e autoBiograpfjp of

when all were collected they added three thou
sand or more to the population.
The Indians from the shores of the upper
lakes, who made this island a place of resort,
numbered from two to three thousand more.
Their wigfwams lined the entire beach two or
three rows deep, and, with the tents of the
traders, made the island a scene of life and ani
mation. The voyageurs were fond of fun and
frolic, and the Indians indulged in their love
of liquor, and, by the exhibition of their war,
medicine, and other dances and sports, often
made both night and day hideous with their
yells. These voyageurs were all Canadian
French, and were the only people fitted for the
life they were compelled to endure, their cheer
ful temperament and happy disposition making
them contented under the privations and hard
ships incident to their calling.
At the time of our arrival, all the traders
from the North and the Great "West had reached
the island with their returns of furs collected
from the Indians during the previous winter,
which were being counted and appraised, and
the profit or loss of each "outfit" ascertained.
All of the different outfits were received into
a large warehouse, where they were assorted
into various classes or grades, carefully counted,
packed, and pressed for shipment to New York
to John Jacob Astor, the president of the com
pany. The work of assorting required expert
i6

<0urtion J>alton^tan I^uBBatti
judges of furs, a nice discrimination between
the different grades being necessary, as prices
varied very greatly, there being as many as six
grades. Marten (sable), for example, being
classed as extra fine dark, number one dark,
number two dark, number one fine brown,
number two fine brown, number one fine, com-
mon, number two common, number three com
mon, good, out of season, inferior, damaged,
and worthless. The value of the fur of this
animal depended as much on color as fineness,
and was found in the greatest variety of shades
of color, and, with the exception of silver-gray
fox, was the most valuable. Mink, muskrat,
raccoon, lynx, wild cat, fox, wolverine, badger,
otter, beaver, and other small fur animals,
received the same care, except there were
fewer grades of quality. In bear skins, only,
were there more than four grades, but in those
the discrimination was nearly equal to marten,
being extra fine black she, number two ditto,
fine number one, number two ditto, and fine,
coarse, and numbers one, two, and three he
bear. Deer skins required but little skill in
assorting; they were classed as red doe, red
buck, blue doe, blue buck, season doe, season
buck, out of season, and damaged.
The commanders of outfits were deeply
interested in the assortment of their furs, and
were very watchful to see that justice was
done them; for upon this depended their bal
ance sheets of profit or loss. Hence, frequent
17

€f)e ^utoBto0rapf)p of

disputes arose as to the grade and value of the
skins. Mr. Matthews had the general management
of the fur warehouse, and on arrival assumed
the charge. After a few days I was ordered
to report to him, and then commenced my first
instructions in the fur trade.
It was my business to make a second count
ih order to verify the first. The first count
was entered on a book not seen by me, and if
mine corresponded with it, the furs were placed
in a frame, pressed, marked, and rolled into
the shipping wareroom. If, however, my
count did not agree with the first, I was re
quired to make a second count, and if there
was still a discrepancy, a third person was
called upon to recount them. This work took
about two months, the working hours being
from five o'clock in the morning to twelve
noon, and from one to seven in the afternoon,
and, as I was obliged to maintain a stooping
posture, was severely fatiguing.
About one hundred voyageurs were detailed
to assist in this business, and were kept under
strict discipline. Most of them were experi-
cnccd, and were generally contented and happy,
each working with a will, knowing that Macki
naw fatigue duty came but once in four years,
and that if they lived through the succeeding
three years, their time at headquarters could
be spent in comparative ease and comfort.
A party was also organized to cut wood on
i8

<Duction ^altoitjeitan I^uBBarti
Bois Blanc, and bring it in boats to the island
for the use of the agents and employes who
remained there; this party consisted of about
twenty-five picked choppers, under the charge
of one of the clerks detailed for that purpose.
Another party was employed in lyeing (hulling)
com, and drying and putting up for the use of
those remaining on the island, and for supply
ing the various outfits soon to leave for their
trading posts.
The daily ration issued by the commissary
to a mess of from six to ten men, consisted of
one pint of lyed or hulled and dried com, with
from two to four ounces of tallow, to each man;
and this was all the food they received, except
that on Saturday flour was given them for
Sunday pancakes. It would seem that this
was a very short and light ration for healthy,
hard-working men, but it was quite sufficient,
and generally more than they could consume.
It was invariably liked by them, and it was
found that they could endure more hardships
on this than on a diet of bread and meat.
Those who came from Canada, their first
season, and who were called mangi-du-lard,
or "pork-eaters," were usually much dissatis
fied and angered with this ration, as on the
voyage up they were fed on pork, pease, and
hard bread, and the change was anything but
agreeable to them. They were, however, soon
laughed out of it by the old voyageurs, who
told them that many of them would be thankful
«9

€|)e ^utoBio0tapI)p of

for even that before they returned from their
winter quarters.
The Company had a yard in which were
made and repaired their own boats, and where
were manufactured traps, tomahawks, and
other articles from iron. Other parties of the
men were detailed to assist the mechanics
in this work.
Most of the clerks were assigned to duty
either in charge of the different gangs of men
or in the wholesale and retail stores and offices.
From these duties the heads of outfits were
exempt. The force of the Company, when all were
assembled on the island, comprised about four
hundred clerks and traders, together with
some two thousand voyageurs. About five
hundred of these were quartered in barracks,
one hundred lived in the agency house, and
the others were camped in tents and accom
modated in rooms of the Islanders.
Dances and parties were given every night
by the residents of the island in honor of the
traders, and they, in their tum, reciprocated
with balls and jollifications, which, though not
as elegant and costly as those of the present
day, were sufficiently so to drain from the
participants all the hard earnings of the winter
previous. In each "brigade," or outfit, was to be
found one who, from superior strength or
bravery, was looked upon as the "bully" of
20

<Durtion ^alton^tan i^uBBatD
that crew of voyageurs, and who, as a dis
tinguishing mark, wore a black feather in his
cap. These "bullies" were generally good fight
ers, and were always govemed by the rules of
fair play. It was a rule, and was expected,
that they should fight each other; hence it was
not an uncommon thing to see a fight. The
vanquished one gave up his black feather to
the conqueror, or shook hands with him, and
they both joined with the lookers on in a glass
of beer or whisky as good-naturedly as though
nothing unpleasant had occurred.
The majority of the inhabitants of the island
were of mixed blood — Canadian and Indian —
and those who were of pure blood, and were
heads of faniilies, had Indian wives. Their
children, though uneducated, were usually
bright and intelligent, and fond of finery,
dancing, and other amusements. There were a
few of the half-breeds who had received a com
mon education, either in English or French,
which was generally of little use to them, as
they were mostly too lazy or proud to earn a
livelihood. Among the Indian or part Indian women
who were, or had been, married to white hus
bands, were found some of great intellectual
capacity, who carried on an extensive trade
with the Indians, one of whom was the Mrs.
Mitchell before referred to; she had a store
and a farm, both under excellent management,
21

Cl^e ^tutoBiogmjiBp of

and her children had been well educated in
Canada. This woman's husband was a Scotch
man and a surgeon in the English army, and
while the island of Mackinaw was in the pos
session of England he was stationed there;
removing afterwards to Drummond's Island,
he rarely visited his family, though only fifty
miles distant. He was a man of strong preju
dices, hated the " Yankees, " and would hold
no social intercourse with them.
Mrs. Mitchell was quite the reverse, and
being rather partial to the "Yankees," treated
them with great consideration; she was a fine
housekeeper and owned one of the best houses
on the island; she was fond of good society,
very hospitable, and entertained handsomely,
conversing in French and English, both of
which she spoke fluently.
Another of these women was Mrs. Lafrom-
boise, who also traded with the Indians in
the interior, usually up the Grand River of
Michigan; her daughter was highly educated,
and married the commanding officer at Fort
Mackinaw. Mrs. Lafromboise could read and write, and
was a perfect lady in her manners and conver
sation; she was a widow, her husband, who was
a trader, having been shot and killed by an
Indian on the Mississippi River; she took his
place and business and accumulated consider
able money. She was afterwards employed on
a salary by the American Fur Company.
22

4Burtion ^aftonj^taH l^uBBatti
Mrs. Chandler, a sister of Mrs. Lafromboise,
was also noted for her ladylike manners and
many Christian virtues. Her husband was an
invalid and her daughter a widow. This
daughter was also highly educated and was
considered the belle of Mackinaw; she after
ward married Mr. Beard, a lawyer of Green
Bay, Wisconsin.
It was my good fortune to be received into
these excellent families as a welcome visitor,
and they all took an interest in me and my wel
fare, calling me their ' ' boy clerk. " My leisure
evenings were passed with them, much to my
pleasure and advantage. From them I received
much good advice, as well as instruction in the
method of conducting trade with the Indians,
which was of much benefit to me in my after
life as a trader.
It was also my good fortune to form the
acquaintance of Mr. Deschamps, who was an
old man and the head of the "Illinois outfit."
Mr. Deschamps had been educated at Quebec
for a Roman Catholic priest, but, refusing to be
ordained, he, at the age of nineteen, engaged
himself to Mr. Sara, a fur trader at St. Louis,
and had devoted many years of his life to the
Indian trade on the Ohio and Illinois Rivers.
When the American Fur Company was organ
ized he was engaged by them and placed in
charge of the "Illinois brigade," or outfit.
It was the policy of the American Fur Com
pany to monopolize the entire fur trade of the
23

€l[je ^utoBiogcapIjp of

Northwest; and to this end they engaged fully
nineteen-twentieths of all the traders of that
territory, and with their immense capital and
influence succeeded in breaking up the business
of any trader who refused to enter their service.
Very soon after reaching Mackinaw and
making returns, the traders commenced organ
izing their crews and preparing their outfits
for their return to winter quarters at their
various trading posts, those destined for the
extreme North being the first to recei^^ atten
tion. These outfits were called "brigades."
The "brigade" destined for the Lake of
the Woods, having the longest journey to
make, was the first to depart. They were
transported in boats called batteaux, which
very much resembled the boats now used by
fishermen on the great lakes, except that they
were larger, and were each manned by a crew
of five men besides a clerk. Four of the men
rowed while the fifth steered. Each boat car
ried about three tons of merchandise, together
with the clothing of the men and rations of
corn and tallow. No shelter was provided for
the voyageurs, and their luggage was confined
to twenty pounds in weight, carried in a bag
provided for that purpose.
The commander of the "brigade" took for
his own use the best boat, and with him an
extra man, who acted in the capacity of
"orderly" to the expedition, and the will of
the commander was the only law known.
24

<23uttion ^alton^an I^uBBarti
The clerks were furnished with salt pork, a
bag of flour, tea and coffee, and a tent for
shelter, and messed with the commander and
orderly. A vast multitude assembled at the harbor
to witness their departure, and when all was
ready the boats glided from the shore, the
crews singing some favorite boat song, while
the multitude shouted their farewells and
wishes for a successful trip and a safe return;
and thus outfit after outfit started on its way
for Lake Superior, Upper and Lower Missis
sippi, and other posts.
The "Wabash and Illinois river outfits"
were almost the last, and were speedily
followed by the smaller ones for the shores of
Lakes Huron and Michigan, and which con
sisted of but from one to three boats.
I was detailed to the Fond-du-Lac (Lake
Superior) "brigade," and a week or so before
its departure was relieved from duty at the fur
warehouse. About this time I received a letter from my
father, written at Erie, Pennsylvania, in which
he informed me that he and my brother were
there on their way to St. Louis, and that they
had waited there a week looking for the Fur
Company's vessel, which it was expected would
touch there on her way from Buffalo to
Mackinaw, upon which they hoped to obtain
passage, and thus visit me, and if they found
no way of proceeding to St. Louis from there,
25

die ^utoBiograpljp of

they would retum on the vessel to Erie; but
fearing she had passed, and being uncertain
whether they should find me on the island,
they had reluctantly concluded to continue their
joumey by way of Cincinnati.
I had before this been told by Mr. Des
champs that he made a trip every fall to St.
Louis, with one boat, to purchase supplies of
tobacco and other necessaries for distribution
among the various traders on the Illinois
River; and as he had seemed fond of me, and
possessed my confidence, I went immediately
to him with my letter, thinking to advise with
him, and, perhaps, to send by him an answer
to my father. After hearing my story, he
delighted me by saying, ' ' Would you like to
go with me, if it can be so arranged?" to which
I answered affirmatively, and begged for his
influence and efforts to that end.
A Mr. Warner, a fellow clerk from Mont
real, had been detailed to Mr. Deschamps'
"brigade." "Now," said Mr. Deschamps, "if you can
get Mr. Warner to consent to an exchange, I
think I can get Mr. Crooks' permission; I can
see no objection to it, and as I am the party
mostly interested, I think it can be arranged
with him; you must first, however, obtain Mr.
Warner's consent, and then I will see what I
can do."
So off I started, letter in hand, to see
Warner, not daring to hope for success; but
26

<«Burt!on ^aftoniitafl J^uBBarti
to my surprise I found he preferred going
north to south, and would gladly make the
change. I reported to Mr. Deschamps, and
he, seeing my anxiety, took my letter and went
immediately to Mr. Crooks, who gave his
consent, and with it an order to the book
keeper to change the names in the details; you
may feel certain that I felt [much rejoiced at
my good fortune. Thus my desire of finding
my father in St. Louis was the probable cause
of an entire change in my destiny, for, instead
of being located in the cold regions of the
North, where my friend Warner froze to death
that winter, my lot was cast in this beautiful
State. During my stay at Mackinaw I had made
the acquaintance of John H. Kinzie, a clerk
of about my own age, and our acquaintance
had ripened into an intimacy. He had entered
the service of the Company that spring, and
was stationed permanently at Mackinaw, and
was not to be sent into the Indian country.
His father then resided at Chicago, and I had
learned of the great hospitality of the family,
and of the high esteem felt for them by all
who knew them; and as I had also been told
that we should make a stop of a week or more
at Chicago, there to make our arrangements
for crossing our boats and goods to the
Desplaines River, I gladly accepted letters of
introduction which he kindly proffered me,
to his father and family. 27

€f)C autoBio0ra)ilip of

Throughmy intimacy with John I had become
quite familiar with the appearance of the Kin
zie family and their surroundings. I knew
that Fort Dearborn was located at Chicago,
then a frontier post; that it was garrisoned by
two companies of soldiers, and that on my
arrival there I should for the first time in my
life see a prairie; and I felt that my new detail
was to take me among those who would be my
friends, and was happy in the thought.
FIRST YEAR IN THE INDIAN COUNTRY.
—MARQUETTE CROSS. — CHICAGO. —
FORT DEARBORN.
The time of our departure soon arrived, and
about noon on the lOth of September, i8i8,
our "brigade" left the harbor in twelve boats.
Mr. Deschamps took me in his boat, and led
the way, with his fine, strong voice starting the
boat song, in which all the crews heartily joined.
The people on the shore bid us a "God
speed," and joined with us in the hope for our
safe return the next season.
The Islanders, more than any one else,
regretted our departure, as what few of the
traders remained would go in a few days and
leave them to the monotony of their own sur
roundings, even the Indians having mostly
departed for their hunting grounds.
Some of our boats were crowded with the
families of the traders, the oldest of whom was
28

<{3utbon ^altonjG^n !^uBBar2i
Mr. Bieson, a large, portly, gray-headed man,
who was then about sixty years of age, and for
more than forty years had been an Indian
trader on the Ohio, Mississippi, and Illinois
Rivers. His wife was a pure-blooded Potta
watomie Indian, enormous in size — so fleshy
she could scarcely walk. Their two daughters
were married, and lived at Cahokie, a small
French town opposite St. Louis. Mr. Bieson
had a house and some property at Opa (now
Peoria), but had been, with all the inhabitants
of that place, driven off by the United States
troops, under command of General Howard,
in the year 1813, and a fort was there erected,
which was called Fort Clark. The town of
Opa and Fort Clark were situated at the foot
of Lake Peoria, on the Illinois River, where
now stands the flourishing city of Peoria.
The inhabitants of Opa were suspected
(wrongly, I think) by our government of being
enemies, and of aiding and counseling the
Indians in giving assistance to Great Britain,
and this was the cause of General Howard's
action in compelling them to vacate. Undoubt
edly some of them favored the British, and
was paid |spies, but a large majority opposed
the Indians in siding with the British, and
counseled them to act neutrally and attend to
their hunting.
Among the others, who had with them their
families, were Messrs. Beebeau, of Opa, and
Lefrombois, Bleau, and La Clare, all of whom
29

€]^c i?lutoBio0ra))f)p of

had Indian wives; and, in fact, there were but
three or four single men in the party. Those
having families messed by themselves, while
the single men clubbed together. Mr. Des
champs was fond of good living, and our mess
of five was well provided for, having such
meats, fish, and wild fruits as were presented
to us by the Indians when we met them on the
shore of Lake Michigan.
It was a custom of the Indians to present
the head man of an expedition with the best
they had, expecting to receive in return, salt,
powder, or something else of value to them.
The choice parts were retained by Mr. Des
champs for his own table, and the balance dis
tributed among the traders.
The traders were all provided with small
tents, but the only shelter given to the men
was what was afforded by the boat tarpaulins,
and, indeed, no other was needed, the camp
fires being sufficient for warmth during the
night. No covering but their single blanket
was required, unless the weather was stormy.
The boats progressed at the rate of about
forty miles per day under oars, and when the
wind was fair we hoisted our square sails, by
the aid of which we were enabled to make
seventy or seventy-five miles per day. If the
wind proved too heavy, or blew strong ahead,
we sought an entrance into the first creek or
river we came to, and there awaited a favorable
time to proceed. If caught by a storm on the
30

<{B>uttion ^alton^^taH I^uBBacd
coast, when a shelter could not be reached, we
sought the shore, where our boats were unload
ed and hauled up on to the beach out of reach
of the surf. This was a hard and fatiguing
labor, and was accomplished by laying down
poles on the sand from the edge of the water.
The men then waded into the water on each
side of the boat, and by lifting and pushing as
each large wave rolled against it, finally suc
ceeded in landing it high and dry on the shore.
The goods were then piled up, resting on poles,
and covered over with the tarpaulins, which
were raised to the leeward by poles, so as to
form a good shelter for the men and protect
them from wind and rain. Sometimes we were
compelled to remain thus in camp for four or
five days at a time, waiting for the storm to
subside, and during this time many games were
indulged in, such as racing, wrestling, and card
playing, and all were jolly and contented;
sometimes varying the monotony by hunting
or fishing.
Our joumey around Lake Michigan was
rather a long one, having occupied about
twenty days. Nothing of interest transpired
until we reached Marquette River, about where
the town of Ludington now stands. This was
the spot where Father Marquette died, about
one hundred and forty years before, and we
saw the remains of a red-cedar cross, erected
by his men at the time of his death to mark
his grave; and though his remains had been
31

€|jc ^utoBiOjjrajjJjp of

removed to the Mission, at Point St. Ignace,
the cross was held sacred by the voyageurs,
who, in passing, paid reverence to< it by kneel
ing and making the sign of the cross. It was
about three feet above the ground, and in a
falling condition. We re-set it, leaving it out
of the ground about two feet, and as I never
saw it after, I doubt ijot that it was covered
by the drifting sands of the following winter,
and that no white man ever saw it afterwards.
We proceeded on our voyage, and on the
evening of September 30, 181 8, reached the
mouth of the Calumet River, then known as
the "Little Calumet," where we met a party
of Indians returning to their villages from a
visit to Chicago. They were very drunk, and
before midnight commenced a fight in which
several of their number were killed. Owing
to this disturbance we removed our camp to
the opposite side of the river and spent the
remainder of the night in dressing ourselves
and preparing for our advent into Chicago.
We started at dawn. The morning was
calm and bright, and we, in our holiday attire,
with flags flying, completed the last twelve
miles of our lake voyage. Arriving at Douglas
Grove, where the prairie could be seen through
the oak woods, I landed, and climbing a tree,
gazed in admiration on the first prairie I had
ever seen. The waving grass, intermingling
with a rich profusion of wild flowers, was the
most beautiful sight I had ever gazed upon.
32

<6urtimt ,^alton^n !^uBBarb
In the distance the grove of Blue Island
loomed up, beyond it the timber on the Des
plaines River, while to g^ve animation to the
scene, a herd of wild deer appeared, and a pair
of red foxes emerged from the grass within
gunshot of me.
Looking north, I saw the whitewashed build
ings of Fort Dearborn sparkling in the sun
shine, our boats with flags flying, and oars
keeping time to the cheering boat song. I
was spell-bound and amazed at the beautiful
scene before me. I took the trail leading to
the fort, and, on my arrival, found our party
camped on the north side of the river, near
what is now State street. A soldier ferried me
across the river in a canoe, and thus I made
my first entry into Chicago, October i, 1818.
We were met upon landing by Mr. Kinzie,
and as soon as our tents were pitched, were
called upon by the officers of the fort, to all of
whom I was introduced by Mr. Deschamps as
his boy. I presented my letter of introduction
to Mr. Kinzie, and with it a package sent by
his son. In the afternoon I called at Mr.
Kinzie 's house, and had the pleasure of meet
ing his family— consisting of Mrs. Kinzie; their
eldest daughter, Mrs. Helm; their youngest
daughter, Maria, now the wife of Major-General
David Hunter, of the U. S. Army, and their
youngest son, Robert, late paymaster of the
U. S. Army, all of whom extended to me a
cordial welcome. As I had so recently seen
33

€]^e glutoBiograpl^p of

John, and had been so intimate with him, I
had much of interest to tell them.
I was invited to breakfast with them the
next moming, and gladly accepted. As I sat
down to the neat and well-ordered table for
the first time since I left my father's house,
memories of home and those dear to me forced
themselves upon me, and I could not suppress
my tears. But for the kindness of Mrs. Kinzie
I should have beaten a hasty retreat. She saw
my predicament and said, "I know just how
you feel, and know more about you than you
think; I am going to be a mother to you if you
will let me. Just come with me a moment."
She led me into an adjoining room and left me
to bathe my eyes in cold water. When I came
to the table I noticed that they had suspended
eating, awaiting my return. I said to Mrs.
Kinzie, "You reminded me so much of my
mother, I could not help crying; my last meal
with her was when I left Montreal, and since
then I have never sat at a table with ladies,
and this seems like home to me." Mr. Kin
zie 's house was a long log cabin, with a rude
piazza, and fronted the river directly opposite
Fort Dearborn.

FORT DEARBORN.
Fort Dearbom was first established in 1804,
on the south bank of Chicago River near where
it then discharged into lake Michigan.
34

<(5urtion ^alton^taU J^uBBarti
It was evacuated August 15, 1812, by Capt.
N. Heald, 1st U. S. Infantry, who was then in
command, and it was on the same day destroyed
by the Indians.
It was rebuilt on the old site in June, 18 16,
by Capt. Hezekiah Bradley, 3d U. S. Infan
try, and occupied by troops until October, 1823,
when it was again vacated and left in charge
of Alexander Wolcott, Indian Agent.
Re-occupied, October 3, 1828.
Troops again withdrawn. May 20, 1 83 1.
Re-occupied, June 17, 1832.
Again vacated, July 1 1, 1832.
Re-occupied, October i, 1832.
And finally abandoned, December 29, 1836.
I have been unable to find from the records
of the War Department by whom this post
was originally established, but find it to have
been commanded, after its re-establishment, by
officers as follows:
Capt. Hezekiah Bradley, 3d U. S. Infantry,
from June, 1816, to May, 1817.
Brev. Maj. D. Baker, 3d U. S. Infantry,
to June, 1820.
Capt. H. Bradley, 3d U. S. Infantry, to
January, 1 821.
Maj. Alexander Cummings, 3d U. S. In-
fantry, to October, 1822.
Lieut.-Col. McNeil, 3d U. S. Infantry, to
October, 1823.
Fort not garrisoned from October, 1823, to
October 3, 1828. 3$

€Be iautoBiograpl^p of

Capt. John Fowle, 5th U. S. Infantry, from
October 3, 1828, to December 21, 1830.
Lieut. David Hunter, 5th U. S. Infantry, to
May 20, 183 1, when the troops were withdrawn.
Maj. William Whistler, 2d U. S. Infantry,
from June 17, 1832, to July 1 1, 1832, and
from October i, 1832, to June 19, 1833.
When I first saw Fort Dearbom it was a
stockade of oak pickets fourteen feet long,
inclosing a square of about six hundred feet.
A block house stood at the southwest corner,
and a bastion in the northwest corner, about a
hundred feet from which was the river.
In the first fort an underground passage was
constructed from the bastion to the river's
edge, but this was not kept open during the
occupancy of the second, but was kept in con
dition to be speedily re-opened should occasion
ever require it.
The officers' quarters were outside of the
pickets, fronting east on the parade, and was
a two-story building of hewn logs. A piazza
extended along the entire front on a line with
the floor of the second story, and was reached
by stairs on the outside.
The first story was divided into kitchen,
dining and store rooms, while the second story
was in one large room. The roof was covered
with split clapboards about four feet long.
The soldiers' quarters were also of logs, and
similar to the officers', except that both stories
were finished off and divided into rooms.
36

<{Biirtion ^aIton$ftan i^uBBacb
In the northeast corner was the sutler's
store, also built of logs, while at the north
and south sides were gates opening to the
parade ground.
On each side of the south gate were guard
houses, about ten feet square.
The commissary storehouse was two stories
in height, and stood east of the guardhouse
and south of the soldiers' quarters.
The magazine was constructed of brick, and
was situated west of the guardhouse, and
near the block house. The stockade and all
the buildings were neatly whitewashed, and
presented a neat and pleasing appearance.
West, and a little south, of the fort was the
military bam, adjoining which, on the east,
was the fort garden, of about four acres, which
extended so as to front the fort on the south,
its eastern line of fence connecting with and
forming a part of the field extending south
about half a mile.
Adjoining this fence on the east was the
only road leading from the fort in either direc
tion. The south line of the garden fence
extended to the edge of the river, and a fence
from the west end of the barn extended north
to the river, so that the fort was wholly in
closed by fence from river to river. The
inclosure between the stockade and the outer
fences was covered with grass and adorned
with trees and shrubbery.
The well was in the outer inclosure and near
37

€^t autoBiOjffrapfip of

the south gate, while about two hundred feet
from the north gate was the river, a stream of
clear, pure water, fed from the lake.
' On the east side of the fort the river was
from four to five hundred feet from the pick
ets, and a part of this distance was a low, sandy
beach, where rude wash-houses had been
constructed, in which the men and women
of the garrison conducted their laundry oper
ations. Just east of the road, and adjoining the
fence running east to the river, was the "Fac
tor House," a two-story, squared-log struc
ture, inclosed by a neat split-picket fence.
This building was occupied from 1804 to about
the year 18 10 by a Mr. Jouett, United States
factor, and by the west side of the road, adjoin
ing the government garden, in a picket-fence
inclosure, was the grave of his wife. At the
second construction of the fort he was suc
ceeded by John Dean.
For a distance of a quarter of a mile from
the "Factor House" there was no fence,
building, or other obstruction between the
government-field fence and the river or lake.
Another house of hewn logs stood twelve
hundred or more feet from the road, and back
of it flowed the Chicago River, which, as late
as 1827, emptied into Lake Michigan at a
point known as "The Pines," a clump of a
hundred or more stunted pine trees on the
sand-hills about a mile from the fort. On the
38

<t3urt)on J>aIton^tan I^uBBarti
edge of the river, directly east of this house,
and distant about four hundred feet, stood a
storehouse of round logs, owned by the Ameri
can Fur Company and occupied by its agent,
Mr. John Craft, who erected it. This house
was surrounded by a rail fence, and, after the
death of Mr. Craft, was occupied by Jean
Baptiste Beaubien.
Adjoining this storehouse on the south was
the fort burying-ground. The east line of the
government field extended to about this point,
and thence west to the south branch of the
river. These, with the addition of a log cabin
near the present Bridgeport, called "Hard-
scrabble," a cabin on the north side occupied
by Antoine Ouilmette, and the house of Mr.
Kinzie, comprised all the buildings within the
present limits of Cook County.
Between the river and the lake, and extend
ing south to "The Pines," was a narrow
strip of sand formed by the northeast winds
gradually forcing the mouth of the river south
of its natural and original outlet at Fort
Dearbom. In the spring of 1828, the Chicago River
had a strong current caused by flood; and,
taking advantage of this, the officer command
ing at the fort ordered some of his men to cut
a passage through the spit of land at the com
mencement of the bend and parallel with the
north side of the fort. It was the work of but
an hour or two to dig. a ditch down to the level
39

€l^e ^utoBiograplip of

of the river, and the Water being let in, the force
of the current soon washed a straight channel
through to the lake fifteen or more feet deep;
but the ever-shifting sand soon again filled this
channel, and the mouth of the river worked
south to about where Madison street now is.
To Captain Fowle, however, are we indebted
for the first attempt to make a harbor of the
Chicago River.
The officers amused themselves with fishing
and hunting; deer, red fox, and wild-fowl were
abundant. Foxes burrowed in the sand-hills
and were often dug out, brought to the fort,
and let loose upon the sand-bar formed by the
outlet of the river. They were then chased
by hounds, men being stationed so as to
prevent their escape from the bar. These fox
hunts were very exciting, and were enjoyed
by Indians and whites alike. None of the
officers were married, and as the sutler's
store furnished the only means of spending
their money they were forced to be frugal and
saving. They were a convivial, jolly set.
Fort Wayne, Indiana, was the nearest post-
office, and the mail was carried generally by
soldiers on foot and was received once a month.
The wild onion grew in great quantities along
the banks of the river, and in the woods adjoin
ing, the leek abounded, and doubtless Chicago
derived its name from the onion and not, as
some suppose, from the (animal) skunk. The
Indian name for this animal is chi-kack, for
40

<Durt)on .^altotti^tan l^uBBarti
the vegetable, chi-goug; both words were used
to indicate strong odors.
What is now known as the North Branch
was then known as River Guarie, named after
the first trader that followed La Salle. The
field he cultivated was traceable on the prairie
by the distinct marks of the cornhills.
MUD LAKE.— ISLE LA CACHE.— STARVED
ROCK. — FORT CLARK. — ENCOUNTER
WITH AN INDIAN. — ST. LOUIS.
After a few days at Chicago, spent in repair
ing our boats, we struck camp and proceeded
up the lagoon, or what is now known as the
South Branch, camping at a point near the
present commencement of the Illinois and
Michigan Canal, where we remained one day
preparing to pass our boats through Mud Lake
into the Aux Plaines River.
Mud Lake drained partly into the Aux
Plaines and partly through a narrow, crooked
channel into the South Branch, and only in
very wet seasons was there sufficient water to
float an empty boat. The mud was very deep,
and along the edge of the lake grew tall grass
and wild rice, often reaching above a man's
head, and so strong and dense it was almost
impossible to walk through them.
Our empty boats were pulled up the channel,
and in many places, where there was no water
and a hard clay bottom, they were placed on
41

€l^e ^utoBiograjrfip of

short rollers, and in this way moved along until
the lake was reached, where we found mud
thick and deep, but only at rare intervals was
there water. Forked tree branches were tied
upon the ends of the boat poles, and these
afforded a bearing on the tussocks of grass and
roots, which enabled the men in the boat
to push to some purpose. Four men only
remained in a boat and pushed with these poles,
while six or eight others waded in the mud
alongside, and by united efforts constantly
jerking it along, so that from early dawn to
dark we succeeded only in passing a part of
our boats through to the Aux Plaines outlet,
where we found the first hard ground. While
a part of our crew were thus employed, others
busied themselves in transporting our goods
on their backs to the river; it was a laborious
day for all.
Those who waded through the mud fre
quently sank to their waist, and at times were
forced to cling to the side of the boat to prevent
going over their heads; after reaching the end
and camping for the night came the task of
ridding themselves from the blood suckers.
The lake was full of these abominable black
plagues, and they stuck so tight to the skin
that they broke in pieces if force was used to
remove them; experience had taught the use
of a decoction of tobacco to remove them,
and this was resorted to with good success.
Having rid ourselves of the blood suckers,
42

<Duttion JtaltottiS^n i^uBBarti
we were assailed by m)nriads of mosquitoes,
that rendered sleep hopeless, though we sought
the softest spots on the ground for our beds.
Those who had waded the lake suffered
great agbny, their limbs becoming swollen and
inflamed, and their sufferings were not ended
for two or three days.
It took us three consecutive days of such
toil to pass all our boats through this miser
able lake; when we finally camped on the
banks of the river, our goods had all crossed
the portage and we were once more ready to
proceed. Our boats being again loaded, we resumed
our voyage down the Desplaines until we
reached Isle La Cache, where low water com
pelled us to again unload our goods in order
to pass our boats over the shoal that here pre
sented itself; and again we camped after a
hard day's labor.
Isle La Cache took its name from a circum
stance in the life of Mr. Sara, a trader who,
when on his way with loaded canoes from
Montreal to St. Louis, with goods for the
Indian trade on the Ohio River, camped at this
point. A band of Indians demanded of him
some of his goods as a tribute for the privilege
of passing down the river; this was refused.
The Indians then returned to their village, a
short distance below, held a council and deter
mined to stop his canoes as he passed their
village, and take by force what he had refused
43

€fje ^utoBiogrqpfjp of

to give. Some of them, however, opposed
this robbery, and one of the band reported the
action of the council to Mr. Sara.
The night was dark and misty and Mr. Sara
determined to pass if possible by strategy, but
to fight rather than accede to their demands.
Fearing he might be overcome by numbers
and thus lose his goods, and in order to lighten
his canoes, so that he could pass rapidly over
the shoal places in the river, he ordered the
most valuable portion of his goods removed to
a grove, about a mile distant on the prairie,
and there hid them in holes dug in the ground
(caches), removing the surplus earth to a dis
tance, and carefully smoothing over the spot,
so that no trace of the hiding place could be
seen; he then armed his men with guns, toma
hawks, and knives, and at daybreak started on
his way down the river.
Stopping at the village, he stationed his men
so as to guard the canoes, and then called on
the Indians for a talk, which was granted; he
told them that he should defend his goods; that
the Great Father, the French King, had given
him permission to go to the Ohio River, and
showed them a parchment ornamented with
numerous ribbons and large red seals; he said to
them, "here is my evidence, the King has made
this writing, and it tells you that I must not be
stopped or disturbed in passing through the
nations of his red children; if any harm shall
come to me he will revenge it by sending an
44

<l5m:tion ^altottiEftafl i^uBBacti
army to destroy them and take possession of
their country."
This speech and demonstration had the
desired effect, and the Indians were glad to
excuse themselves; they however said that they
were poor and needed clothing and tobacco; that
they had no powder and but few guns, and were
preparing to send a delegation to St. Louis to
see their Great Father's Captain to state their
condition and make known their wants.
Mr. Sara replied that he was authorized
to give them a present from their Great Father,
and that he should have done so but for their
demand and threat, but as they had repented,
he would now give it to them; whereupon he
handed them a small bale, which he had pre
viously prepared for that purpose, and oma-
mented with ribbons and sealing wax. The
bale contained a few pieces of calico, powder
and shot, tobacco and flints, and steels for
striking fire, which delighted them exceedingly.
He then said to them, "You see my canoes
are light; I have but little in them, but when I
camped last night you saw them heavily loaded.
I had a dream; the Spirit told me you held a
council, and determined to rob me when I
passed your village this morning; that is why
you see my men with guns, tomahawks, and
knives, with which to defend themselves; we
did not fear you, though there are many of you
and we are but few, though you might have
overpowered us; we are now friends, and I
4S

€1^0 ^utoBtograplip of

want you to help us; go with my men, take
your pack-horses and bring the goods I have
left behind and help us down the river with our
boats until we reach the deep water below the
shoals, when I will give you another bale of
goods in token of my friendship, and bid you
farewell." To this they consented; the goods
were removed from their hiding piace and
transported on horses to the confluence of the
Dcsplaines and Kankakee Rivers and again
loaded in the canoes; the Indians being both
surprised and amused at his strategy. This is
the story as related to me.
Our progress from this point was very slow
indeed, and most of the distance to the Illinois
River our goods were carried on our backs,
while our lightened boats were pulled over the
shallow places, often being compelled to place
poles under them, and on these drag them
over the rocks and shoals. In this manner
almost three weeks were occupied in reaching
the mouth of Fox River, and two days more
brought us to the foot of Starved Rock.
Parkman, in his Discovery of the Great West,
thus describes this romantic and picturesque
spot: "The cllfT called 'Starved Rock,' now pointed out
to travelers as the chief natural curiosity ot the region,
rises steep on three sides as a castle wall to the
height of a hundred and twenty-five feet above the
river. In front, it overhangs the water that washes
Us b.i80; its western brow looks down on the tops of
tho forest trees below; and on the cast lies u wide
46

<B>uttion ^alton^tall l^uBBarti
^^"^^—^"^^—^—i^» 1^1 I'll ¦ ^— — -^M ^^^—^^¦^¦^^— ¦— ¦! -¦¦ ¦¦ ¦— ^B^^^^— — M^
gorge or ravine, choked with the mingled foliage
of oaks, walnuts, and elms ; while in its rocky depths
a little brook creeps down to mingle with the river.
From the rugged trunk of the stunted cedar that
leans forward from the brink, you may drop a
plummet into the river below, where the catfish and
the turtles may plainly be seen gliding over the
wrinkled sands of the clear shallow current. The
cliff is accessible only from behind, where a man
may climb up, not without difficulty, by a steep and
narrow passage. The top is about an acre in extent."
After leaving Starved Rock we met with no
further detentions from scarcity of water. We
passed on our way a number of Indian villages
and stopped a few hours at each, not for the
purpose of trading, but only to barter tobacco
and powder for meat and Indian com. We
were treated kindly by all, and felt perfectly
safe among them; they were all acquainted
with our traders, and knew where the trading
houses were to be located, from which they
would obtain their hunting outfits.
Opposite the mouth of Bureau River, and
about a mile above the present site of the town
of Hennepin, our first trading house was
located, and placed in charge of Mr. Beebeau,
who for many years had been a trader in that
region. I was assigned to this post and was
to have charge of the accounts, as neither
Beebeau nor any of the men could read or
write. Beebeau kept his accounts with the
Indians by a system of hieroglyphics.
I was permitted by Mr. Deschamps to
accompany him to St. Louis, whither he went
47

€i)t ^utoBiograpdp of

with one boat to purchase supplies of tobacco
and some other needed articles from the French
people at Cahokia. Beebeau received his
invoices of goods and detail of men, and we
proceeded onward.
Our next post was located three miles below
Lake Peoria, and about sixty miles from
Bureau, and was placed in charge of old Mr.
Beason, a venerable man, who had long been a
trader on this river, and was well and favorably
known by the Indians; this we called Opa post.
As we rounded the point of the lake above
Peoria, we discovered that old Fort Clark was
on fire, and upon reaching it we found Indians
to the number of about two hundred engaged in
a war dance; they were hideously painted, and
had scalps on their spears and in their sashes,
which they had taken from Americans during
the war with Great Britain from i8i2toi8i5.
A young brave having noticed me, inquired
who I was, and Mr. Deschamps replied that I
was his adopted son from Montreal. This an
swer he gave to allay' the suspicion that had
arisen that I was an American, a nation then
much disliked by the Indians.
The Indian doubted the truth of Mr. Des
champs' statement, insisted that I was an
American, and endeavored to force a quarrel
with me. Mr. Deschamps left me in the boat
in charge of one of the men, and went among
the Indians to converse with them.
Using this man as an interpreter, the Indian
aR'

<23urtion ^altottjE^taH i^uBBarb
resumed the conversation with me, and saying
that I was an American, took from his sash,
one after another, a number of scalps, and
showing them to me, told me they were the
scalps of my people. I was trembling with
fear, which he observed, and drawing from his
sash a long-haired scalp, he wet it and sprinkled
the water in my face. In a moment my fear
tumed to rage, and seizing Mr. Deschamps'
double-barreled gun, which lay in the bottom of
the boat, I took deliberate aim at him and fired.
The man who was left with me, seeing my in
tention, struck up the gun and saved the
Indian's life, and probably my own and that of
others of our party. Hearing the report of
the gun and the consequent confusion, Mr.
Deschamps and the men with him came run
ning back to the boats, and after a short con
sultation Mr. Deschamps ordered the boats to
push out, and we started down the stream.
This incident left such an impression on my
mind that no doubt exists with me as to the
time of the buming of Fort Clark.
Having given Mr. Beason his outfit and left
with him one of our boats, we pursued our
journey, establishing posts every sixty miles, the
last one being about fifty miles above the
mouth of the river.
From this point we departed with but one
boat, with a picked crew of men, all in high
glee and singing a Canadian boat song, in
which Mr. Deschamps, as usual, led. We
49

€f)c ^utoBiO0rapl)p of

made rapid progress, and when we again camped
it was at the mouth of the Illinois River. On
the following day, November sixth, at about
two o'clock in the afternoon, we reached St.
Louis. Our boat was soon surrounded by
the friends of Mr. Deschamps, among whom
were many priests, and all united in a hearty
greeting. I knew my father and brother should be at
this place, but where to find them I could not
tell. My anxiety to see them was so great that
I went into the nearest tavern, but found no
trace of them there. As I was on the street
I passed a gentleman who seemed to notice me;
I turned and spoke to him, telling him I was a
stranger in search of my father. He thought
a moment, then said, " The name sounds famil
iar; I think I was introduced to him at Mr.
Paddock's." I asked him if Mr. Paddock
came from Vermont; he replied in the affirm
ative, and directed me to his house, which I
soon found. The door was opened by a pretty
young girl, who told me that he was at Mr.
Enos', who was also a Vermonter and an old
friend of our family. Here at last I found my
father, who was conversing with Mr. Enos.
He did not recognize me, so much had I changed
since our parting, though only six months had
passed. I was then thin and pale from close
confinement in the store, but with the outdoor
life and exposure, I had gained in weight and
strength, and become as brown as an Indian.
50

oBurtion ^alton^tali I^uBBatti
On inquiring for my brother, I learned that
he was employed in a drug store near by,
where we found him pounding something in a
mortar. Though I did not speak he knew me
at once, and exclaimed, "O, brotherl brotherl"
bursting into tears. The meeting was a joyous
one, and I think the day the happiest of my
life. At this time St. Louis had a population of
about eight hundred, composed of French,
English, Spanish, and American.
Cahokia, a French town on the opposite
side of the river, was then the largest, it having
a population of about one thoilsand. There
Mr. Deschamps made most of his purchases
of flour and tobacco, which, with some mer
chandise bought in St. Louis, completed our
retum cargo.
This French village was then a jolly place.
Mr. Deschamps was a favorite with all, and
was treated as the distinguished guest of every
family. There was dancing at some of the
houses every night; and even the priests claimed
his assistance in their singing.
I was permitted to remain in St. Louis with
my father and brother, being required to
report daily to Mr. Deschamps, and perform
such duties as were assigned to me. My home
was at Mr. Paddock's, with my brother, and
here I was treated very kindly by all the family.
My father was preparing to go to Arkansas,
with the intention of locating permanently
5»

€I|C 9tutoBioffrajj]^p of

there; and when, at the end of two weeks, we
parted, it was our farewell, as I never saw him
again.
SHAUB-E-NEE. — WA-BA AND CHE-MO-
CO-MON-ESS.— TIPPECANOE BATTLE
GROUND.— THE FEAST OF THE DEAD.
About the twentieth of November we started
on our return voyage, ascending the Mississippi
and Illinois Rivers and distributing to our
various trading posts portions of our cargo. I
reached my station between the tenth and fif
teenth of December, where Mr. Deschamps,
after giving me particular instmctions as to my
duties, and opening the books, left me with his
blessing. The accounts had heretofore been
kept in hieroglyphics by Beebeau, my ignorant
master, who proved to be sickly, cross, and
petulant. He spent the greater part of his
time in bed, attended by a fat, dirty Indian
woman, a doctress, who made and adminis
tered various decoctions to him. One of our
men, Antoine, had an Indian wife and two
children, the oldest a boy about my own age,
but who was not regularly in the employ of the
Company. My trouble at Fort Clark, and the circum
stances attending it, had become known to the
Indians in the vicinity of our post . Their chief
ivas Wa-ba, and soon after my arrival he,
iccompanied by Shaub-e-nee, called on me,
52

<6uttimt ^aUottiS^tan I^uBBarti
saying they wished to see the little American
brave. Shaub-e-nee was then about twenty-
five years of age, and was, I thought, the finest
looking man I had ever seen. He was fully
six feet in height, finely proportioned, and with
a countenance expressive of intelligence, firm
ness and kindness. He was one of Tecumseh's
aids at the battle of the Thames, being at his
side when Tecumseh was shot. Becoming dis
gusted with the conduct of General Proctor, he,
with Billy Caldwell (the Sauganash), withdrew
their support from the British and espoused
the cause of the Americans. Shaub-e-nee, in
after years, during the Black Hawk War, was
indefatigable in notifying the white settlers in
DuPage, Grundy and La Salle Counties of
threatened danger, often riding both night and
day, in great peril, and by his timely waming
and counsel saving the lives of many settlers.
He lived to the age of eighty-four years, and
died July 17, 1859, at his home in Morris,
Grundy County, respected and beloved by all
who knew him.
Chief Wa-ba had shortly before this lost a
son, of about my own age, and so, according
to the Indian custom, he adopted me in his
stead, naming me Che-mo-co-mon-ess (the little
American) . I enjoyed the friendship of Wa-ba
for a number of years and until his death,
and I here desire to deny the statement made
by a historian of our State, that Wa-ba plun
dered certain mounds and removed from them
53

€|jc ^utoBiograjrfjp of

their valuable contents. Such a deed would
have been wholly at variance with his charac
ter, which was that of an honest man, and
certainly could not have occurred without my
having heard of it, which I never did until I
saw it in the book referred to.
Wa-ba had another son who, with Antoine 's
son and myself, frequently hunted together,
and we all became quite expert.
Our cabin was built of logs, those forming
the sides being laid one on the other and held
in place by stakes driven into the ground,
and these fastened together at the top by withes
of bark. The logs forming the ends were of
smaller size, driven into the ground perpendic
ularly, the centre ones being longer and forked
at the top, and upon these rested the ridge
pole. Straight-grained logs were then selected
and split as thin as possible, making sections
of three or four inches in thickness, which
were laid with one end resting upon the ridge
pole, the other on the logs which formed the
sides of the cabin; through these was driven a
wooden pin, which rested against the top log
on the inside of the cabin, and projected eight
een inches or two feet above the roof. The
cracks and openings of roof and sides were
then daubed with a cement made of clay mixed
with ashes, and then the whole roof was covered
with long grass, which was held in place by
other logs laid on top.
The chimney and fire-place were made in
54

<Dutt)on J^altonjETtan l^uBBatti
the following manner: At the centre of one
side of the room four straight poles were
driven firmly in the ground, the front ones
being about eight feet apart and the back ones
about five feet; then small saplings, cut to
proper lengths, were fastened by withes at each
end to the upright poles, and about eighteen
inches apart. Then came the mortar, made
from clay and ashes, into which was kneaded
long grass so as to form strips ten or twelve
inches in width and about four feet long; the
centres of these strips were then placed or
hung on the cross poles and pressed together
so as to cover the wood, and in this way the
chimney was carried up to the top of the up
right poles and then three or four feet above
the roof, or even with the ridge pole. A
second coat of mortar, about two inches thick,
was then thrown on, pressed to the rough first
coat and smoothed with the hands; the hearth
was then made of dry, stiff clay, pounded
down hard, and the structure was finished.
The floor of the cabin was made of pun
cheons, the surface of which was dressed with
a common axe or tomahawk, so as to remove
the splinters, the edges being made to fit
together as close as possible.' The door was
made of the same material, puncheons, hung
on wooden hinges, and fastened by a wooden
latch with back string attached, so it could be
raised from the outside, and when the string
was pulled in, the door was locked.
55

€Be 3tutoBtograpf>p of

To make the window, one of the logs in the
end of the cabin was cut so as to leave an
opening of about eighteen inches in width by
twenty or thirty inches in length, into which
was set a rough sash, and over this was pasted*
or glued paper, which had been thoroughly oiled
with bear or coon grease. This completed
the house, which was warm and comfortable.
Our bunks were placed in a row, one above
the other, and were made of puncheons split
as thin as possible. The bottom rested on
parallel saplings cut to a proper length, one
end of which was inserted in a two-inch auger
hole in the logs of the cabin, and the other
supported by a puncheon set upright. The
bedding consisted of long, coarse grass, laid
lengthwise of the bunk, on top of which was
placed a skin of some kind (generally buckskin)
or an Indian mat. At the head the grass was
raised so as to make a pillow, and to each man
was allowed one blanket for cover.
The table, with round sapling legs, and pun
cheon top, and a three-legged stool, con
structed in the same manner, completed the
furniture of the mansion.
The only tools allowed to each outfit was a
common axe, a two-inch auger, an ordinary
scalping knife, a crooked knife (this had a
blade six inches long and rounded at the end),
and tomahawk, and with these implements
everything was constructed, and some of the
men did excellent work with these simple tools.
56

<(BiutBon ^altoni^n I^uBBarti
Our kitchen utensils were few and primitive,
consisting of a fiying-pan, a couple of tin
pots, one very large Indian bowl made of
wood, and several smaller ones. Table knives
and forks we had none, and our spoons
were of wood, ranging in capacity from a gill
to a pint.
Wood was, of course, plenty, and our large
fire-place was kept well filled.
A camp-kettle chain was suspended from a
hook made from the limb of a tree and fast
ened to the roof, from which also hung cords,
which were used for roasting game. Our
meat being thus suspended before a bright fire,
it was the duty of one man, with a long stick,
to keep it whirling rapidly until sufficiently
cooked, when it was placed in the large wooden
bowl on the table, and each one helped him
self by cutting off with his knife and fingers as
much as he desired. Usually we had nothing
else on the table except honey^ The wild tur
key was used as a substitute for bread, and
when eaten with fat venison, coori, or bear, is
more delicious than any roast can be.
One of our luxuries, which was reserved for
special occasions, was corn soup, and this was
always acceptable.
Those traders who were so fortunate as to
possess an iron bake-pan or skillet were par
ticularly favored, and the more so if they were
also possessed of flour, for then many delica
cies were possible, and many kinds of chopped
57

€fie ^utoBiogcapIjp of

meats and baked "avingnols" afforded a dish
not to be refused by kings.
Let me give one or two recipes: To one
pound of lean venison, add one pound of the
breast of turkey, three-fourths of a pound of
the fat of bear or raccoon; salt and pepper to
taste, and season with the wild onion or leek;
chop up or pound fine (the meat), and mix all
well together; then make a thin crust, with
which cover the sides and bottom of the bake-
pan; then put in the meat and cover it with a
thicker crust, which must be attached firmly
to the side crust; now put on the cover of your
bake-pan and set it on the hot coals, heaping
them on the top, and bake for one hour, and you
will have a delicious dish.
Another: Make a thin batter and drop
small balls of the minced meat into it and fry
in bear or coon fat, taking care that the meat
is well covered with the batter. This we called
"les avingnol."
From the ponds we gathered the seeds of
the lotus, which we used for coffee, our ever-
filled honey-trough furnishing the sweetening.
Our supply of salt and pepper was rather
limited, and these were used only on special
occasions. Thus passed the winter. When at home,
chatting, joking and playing tricks on each
other; making oars and paddles to replace the
worn out and broken ones, and getting our
selves ready for the spring's departure.
58

^Buttion ^altottiE^tan I^uBBacti
As I had little to do in the house besides
keeping the books and being present when
sales were made for furs or on credit, and
being disgusted with the disagreeable and filthy
habits of my master, Beebeau, I fairly lived in
the open air with my two comrades. Our
time was spent in the manly exercise of hunt
ing and trapping, on foot or in canoes, and as
they spoke in the Indian language only, they
were of great assistance to me in leaming it,
which I accomplished before spring. I also
became proficient in hunting, and could discern
animal tracks on the ground and tell what kind
they were, and whether they were walking slow
or fast or running. I could detect the marks
on the tmnks of trees made by such animals
as the raccoon or panther, if they had made it
a retreat within a month or so. My com
panions had many laughs and jokes at my
expense for my awkwardness in hunting and
ignorance in tracking animals, but I faithfully
persevered in my education.
My clothing during this winter and for the
subsequent years of my life as a trader, con
sisted of a buckskin hunting shirt or a blue
capote belted in at the waist with a sash or
buckskin belt, in which was carried a knife and
sheath, a tomahawk, and a tobacco pouch made
of the skin of some animal, usually otter or
mink. In the pouch was carried a flint and
steel and piece of punk.
Underneath my outside garment I wore a
59

€Be ^utoBiograjjfjp of

calico shirt, breech-cloth, and buckskin leggins.
On my feet neips* and moccasins, and some
times in winter, a red knit cap on my head.
I allowed my hair to grow long and usually
went bareheaded. When traveling in winter
I carried, and sometimes wore, a blanket.
During this winter I made two trips into the
interior: One to the mouth of Rock River,
where I first saw Black Hawk, and for the
first time slept in an Indian wigwam. The
other to the Wabash River. For the privilege
of going, I was required to carry a pack on
my back of fifty pounds weight, the men with
me carrying eighty pounds. These packs
contained goods to exchange for furs and pel
tries. During the first few days this was very
severe, and I often wished I had not under
taken it, but by the time I returned, I was able
to carry my pack with comparative ease and
keep up with the others in walking.
On my trip to the Wabash River we found
a band of Kick-a-poo Indians encamped on
Pine Creek, a branch of the Wabash, and one
evening quite a number of the Indians gathered
into the trader's wigwam and were discussing
the subject of Harrison's fight at Tippecanoe.
A number of these Indians had participated in
the battle, and twelve of them had been
wounded. As I could not understand their
language sufficiently well to converse, I em-
* Square pieces of blanket which were folded over
the feet, and were worn in place of stockings.
60

<8urtion Jtalton^G^taH i^uBBarH
ployed my man as interpreter, and told them
that from what I had read in books, they had
deceived General Harrison, pretending to be
friendly and getting him to camp in an exposed
situation where an attacking enemy would
have great advantages. They laughed heartily,
saying that the contrary was the tmth. He
had selected the strongest natural position in
all that country; that at any other place they
could have conquered him and but few could
have escaped. In consequence of his strong
position, they had a long consultation in plan
ning the attack. I was so much interested in
what I heard that I asked to go to the battle
ground on the following morning, which they
agreed to. Accordingly, the next moming I
was fumished with a pony, and accompanied
by two or three of them, started for the battle
ground, and ou arriving there found that their
report was correct, and was much surprised at
seeing such a location.
The ground was admirably adapted to
defense, being on an elevated plateau. On
the westerly side ran Bumett Creek, the bank
of which, on the side of Harrison's encamp
ment, was very steep, while on the opposite
side the descent was gradual. On the easterly
side was a prairie swamp skirting the plateau.
Northerly and easterly was high ground and
timber land, and it was here and along the
creek that Harrison's soldiers made the attack.
From Harrison's Report, pp. 289-290, it
61

€F>c ^utoBiograpfip of

appears that General Harrison did not quite
like the ground, but I am satisfied that no
better could have been found in that vicinity,
and in that opinion I am sustained by General
Tipton, who participated in the battle, and
with whom I afterwards became acquainted
while he was Indian agent at Logansport,
Ind. At a subsequent date I again visited the
locality in company with General Tipton, and
he pointed out to me the positions held by
the contending forces, and his account of the
battle agreed with that given me by my red
friends. The general and myself seated our
selves under a tree, on the bank of the little
creek where the Kick-a-poos made their attack,
and he there detailed to me the incidents of
the march and fight. With a small stick he
mapped out on the ground the positions held
by the troops and Indians, and, playfully dig
ging and throwing up pebbles, he said: "Near
this spot a friend of mine had his jaw shot away;
he suffered great agony, but soon died." Just
as he said this he unearthed some teeth which
had once belonged to a human being. He
picked them up, firmly believing them to be
those of his friend, and for years after they
occupied a place in his cabinet of curiosities.
Our trip proved a successful one," and
having sold all our goods, we hired ponies to
transport our furs and peltries and retumed
home, where I was warmly welcomed by my
62

<tBiu:bon ^alton^tali l^uBBartx
young companions, who were glad to have me
again join them in their hunts. A day sufficed
to decipher Beebeau's hieroglyphics, extract
from memorandas and memory, the items of
accounts, and write up the books, and I dropped
back into the regular routine of my life. I
also made a visit to our trading post situated
three miles below Peoria, which was in charge
of old Mr. Beason. Though this post was
sixty miles distant we reached it in one day's
travel by starting at daylight and walking until
dark, and returned after a visit of two or three
days. By constant practice I had by this time
become a good walker and could cover forty
to fifty miles per day with ease.
Winter passed without any special incident,
and early in March, 1 8 19, we received by a
carrier orders from Mr. Deschamps to have
everything in complete readiness to start for
Mackinaw on the twentieth. We kept track
of the days of the month by notches cut in a
stick, which hung in the store, having no
almanac or calendar, and indeed I was the'
only one of the party who could have read it
if we had possessed one.
Our fare had consisted during the winter of
a variety of game, such as venison, raccoon,
panther, bear, and turkey, varied as spring
approached with swan, geese and crane, be
sides almost every variety of duck. Prairie
chickens and quail were also abundant, but
these we did not consider eatable. Our game
63

€f>c ^ntoBiogcajjfjp of

was cooked in French style, and to our mind,
could not be excelled in any kitchen.
We had received in the fill one pound of
green tea and a bag of flour, about a hundred
pounds, and while this lasted we luxuriated on
Sundays in pancakes and honey- The woods
abounded in wild honey, and we kept a large
wooden bowl full at all times, of which we par
took whenever we desired.
In the forenoon of the 20th of March, we
heard in the distance the sound of the familiar
boat-song and recognized the rich tones of Mr.
Deschamps' voice, and we knew the "Brigade"
was coming. We all ran to the landing and
soon saw Mr. Deschamps' boat rounding the
point about a mile below; his ensign floating
in the breeze. We shouted with joy at their
arrival and gave them a hearty welcome.
The remainder of the day and far into the
night was spent in exchanging friendly greet
ings and recounting the events that had tran
spired since our parting. Little sleep was
had, and but little wanted. Mr. Deschamps
had flour and tobacco, and we feasted and
smoked and talked and laughed, and a happier
party cannot well be imagined. The next day
we spent in loading our boats, and the day
following the thirteen boats of the "Brigade"
pushed off from the shore, and, to the music
of the Canadian boat-song, we started on our
long return journey.
The first night we halted at our old camp-
64

<Duttion ^altoni^tan i^uBBatb
ground at the foot of Starved Rock. From
this point until we reached Cache Island, our
progress was very slow, averaging but from
six to ten miles per day. The river was high,
the current swift, and the rapids strong, and
as the boats were heavily laden and a cold
storm prevailed, we were glad to camp early
and afford the men a much-needed rest.
Early the morning following we left Cache
Island, and as the wind was strong from the
southwest, we hoisted our square sails for the
first time, and rapidly passed up the Desplaines
River, through Mud Lake, to South Branch,
regardless of the course of the channel, and
soon reached Chicago.
We camped on the north side of the river,
a small distance above Fort Dearbom, where
we remained six or eight days repairing our
boats and putting them in condition for the
more serious journey of coasting Lake Michi
gan. Our stay in Chicago was a pleasant one to
me. The same officers were in command at
the fort that were there when we left in the
fall, and warmly greeted us on our return.
Mr. Kinzie again took me to his own house,
where I was treated as one of the family, and
I formed a strong attachment for these good
friends. Seeing Mrs. Kinzie again brought
my mother vividly to my mind, and made me
all the more anxious to hear from her and my
father. Since . parting from them I had not
6S

€]^e ^utoBio0rapI;p of

heard from either, and could not expect to
until I reached Mackinaw.
On a beautiful morning in April, about the
20th or 25th, we left Chicago and camped at
the Grand Calumet. We did not desire to
reach the mouth of Grand River (Grand
Haven) before the May full moon, for annually
at that time the Indians assembled to fast and
feast their dead, the ceremonies occupying
eight or ten days. A noted burying ground was
selected and the ground around the graves
thoroughly cleaned, they being put in the best
of order. Many of the graves were marked
by small poles, to which were attached pieces
of white cloth. These preparations having
been completed, all except the young children
blackened their faces with charcoal and fasted
for two whole days, eating literally nothing
during that time. Though many of them had
no relatives buried there, all joined in the fast
and ceremonies in memory of their dead who
were buried elsewhere, and the sounds of
mourning and lamentation were heard around
the graves and in the wigwams.
At the close of the two days' fast they
washed their faces, put on their decorations,
and commenced feasting and visiting from one
wigwam to another. They now placed wooden
dishes at the head of each grave, which were
kept daily supplied with food, and were pro
tected from the dogs, wolves, and other animals,
by sticks driven into the ground around and
66

<0uttion ^altotijsftan J^uBBarb

inclosing them. The feasting lasted several
days, and the ceremonies were concluded by
their celebrated game of ball, which is intensely
interesting, even the dogs becoming excited
and adding to the commotion by mixing with
the players and barking and racing around the
grounds. We progressed leisurely to the mouth of
the St. Joseph River, where we encamped for
several days, and were joined by the traders
from that river. We reached Grand River
early in May, and sought a good camping place
up the river, some distance from the Indian
camps. The "Feast of the Dead" had com
menced, and many Indians had already arrived,
and for five or six days we were witnesses to
their strange yet solemn ceremonies.
One evening, at the close of the feast, we
were informed that an Indian, who the fall
previous, in a dmnken quarrel, had killed one
of the sons of a chief of the Manistee band,
would on the morrow deliver himself up to
suffer the penalty of his crime according to the
Indian custom. We gave but little credence
to the rumor, though the Indians seemed much
excited over it. On the following day, how
ever, the rumor proved tme, and I witnessed the
grandest and most thrilling incident of my life.
The murderer was a Canadian Indian, and
had no blood relatives among the Manistees,
but had by invitation, retumed with some of
the tribe from Maiden, where they received
67

€Bc ^utoBio0rapI)p of

their annuities from the English Government,
and falling in love with a Manistee maiden,
had married her and settled among them,
agreeing to become one of their tribe. As was
customary, all his eamings from hunting and
trapping belonged to his father-in-law until
the birth of his first child, after which he
commanded his time and could use his gains
for the benefit of his family. At the time of
the killing of the chief's son he had several
children and was very poor, possessing nothing
but his meagre wearing apparel and a few traps.
He was a fair hunter, but more proficient as a
trapper. Knowing that his life would be taken
unless he could ransom it with furs and articles
of value, after consulting with his wife, he
determined to depart at night in a canoe with
his family and secretly make his way to the
marshes at the headwaters of the Muskegon
River, where he had before trapped success
fully, and there endeavor to catch beaver, mink,
marten, and other fine furs, which were usually
abundant, and return in the spring and satisfy
the demands of the chief. As, according to the
custom, if he failed to satisfy the chief and
family of the murdered man, either by ransom
or a sacrifice of his own life, they could demand
of his wife's brothers what he had failed to give,
he consulted with one of them and told him of
his purpose, and designated a particular loca
tion on the Muskegon where he could be found
68

<<3ut:tion ^altoni^tan l^uBBarb
if it became necessary for him to retum, and
deliver himself up. Having completed his
arrangements, he made his escape and arrived
safely at the place of destination, and having
but few traps and but a small supply of ammu
nition, he arranged dead-fall traps in a circuit
around his camp, hoping with them and his
few traps to have a successful winter, and by
spring to secure enough to save his life.
After the burial of his son, the chief took
counsel with his sons as to what they should
do to revenge the dead, and as they knew the
murderer was too poor to pay their demands,
they determined upon his death, and set about
finding him. Being disappointed in this, they
made a demand upon the brothers of his wife,
who, knowing that they could not satisfy his
claims, counselled together as to what course
to pursue, all but one of them believing he had
fled to Canada.
The younger brother, knowing his where
abouts, sent word to the chief that he would
go in search of the murderer, and if he failed
to produce him would himself give his own
life in his stead. This being acceptable, with
out divulging the secret of his brother-in-law's
hiding place, he started to find him. It was a
long and difficult joumey, as he had no land
marks to go by and only knew that he should
find his brother-in-law on the headwaters of
the Muskegon, which he finally did.
The winter had been one of unusually deep
69

€Fie ^utoBiograjjfjp of

snow, and the spring one of great floods,
which had inundated the country where he was.
The bears had kept in their dens, and for some
reason the marten, beavers, and mink had not
been found, so that when their brother-in-law
reached them he and his family were almost
perishing from starvation, and his winter's
hunt had proved unsuccessful. They accord
ingly descended together to the main river,
where the brother left them for his return home,
it being agreed between them that the murderer
would himself report at the mouth of Grand
River during the "Feast of the Dead," which
promise he faithfully performed.
Soon after sunrise the news spread through
the camp that he was coming. The chief
hastily selected a spot in a valley between the
sand-hills, in which he placed himself and
family in readiness to receive him, while we
traders, together with the Indians, sought the
surrounding sand-hills, that we might have a
good opportunity to witness all that should
occur. Presently we heard the monotonous
thump of the Indian drum, and soon thereafter
the mournful voice of the Indian, chanting his
own death song, and then we beheld him,
marching with his wife and children, slowly
and in single file, to the place selected for his
execution, still singing and beating the drum.
When he reached a spot near where sat the
chief, he placed the drum on the ground, and
his wife and children seated themselves on
70

^ut:tion ^altonj3^Q I^uBBarb
mats which had been prepared for them. He
then addressed the chief, saying: "I, in a
di-unken moment, stabbed your son, being
provoked to it by his accusing me of being a
coward and calling me an old woman. I fled
to the marshes at the head of the Muskegon,
hoping that the Great Spirit would favor me
in the hunt, so that I could pay you for your
lost son. I was not successful. Here is the
knife with which I killed your son; by it I
wish to die. Save my wife and children.
I am done.'-' The chief received the knife,
and, handing it to his oldest son, said, "Kill
him." The son advanced, and, placing his
left hand upon the shoulder of his victim,
made two or three feints with the knife and
then plunged it into his breast to the handle
and immediately withdrew it.
Not a murmur was heard from the Indian
or his wife and children. Not a word was
spoken by those assembled to witness. All
nature was silent, broken only by the singing
of the birds. Every eye was tumed upon the
victim, who stood motionless with his eyes
firmly fixed upon his executioner, and calmly
received the blow without the appearance of
the slightest tremor. For a few moments he
stood erect, the blood gushing from the wound
at every pulsation; then his knees began to
quake; his eyes and face assumed an expression
of death, and he sank upon the sand.
During all this time the wife and children
71

€l|e ^ntoBiograpBP of

sat perfectly motionless, gazing upon the hus
band and father. Not a sigh or a murmur
escaping their lips until life was extinct, when
they threw themselves upon his dead body,
lying in a pool of blood, in grief and lamen
tations, bringing tears to the eyes of the traders,
and causing a murmur of sympathy to run
through the rhultitude of Indians.
Turning to Mr. Deschamps, down whose
cheeks the tears were trickling, I said: "Why
did you not save that noble Indian. A few
blankets and shirts, and a little cloth, would
have done it." "Oh, my boy," he replied,
"we should have done it. It was wrong and
thoughtless in us. What a scene we have
witnessed." Still the widowed wife and her children were
clinging to the dead body in useless tears and
grief. The chief and his family sat motionless
for fifteen or twenty minutes, evidently regret
ting what had been done. Then he arose,
approached the body, and in a trembling voice
said: "Woman stop weeping. Your husband
was a brave man, and like a brave, was not
afraid to die as the rules of our nation demanded.
We adopt you and your children in the place of
my son; our lodges are open to you; live with
any of us; we will treat you like our own sons
and daughters; you shall have our protection
and love. " " Che-qui-ock ' ' (that is right) was
heard from the assembled Indians, and the
tragedy was ended. 72

<iBurt)on ^alton^taH i^uBBatti
That scene is indelibly stamped on my mind,
never to be forgotten.
After the conclusion of the feast, we left in
company with a large fleet of birch-bark ca
noes, occupied by Indians and their families,
returning from their winter hunting grounds to
their villages on the shore of Lake Michigan.
A fair wind at starting increased to a gale in
the after part of the day, and caused a high
sea. We reached the Manistee River, which
had a strong current, in entering which, we
experienced much trouble from the breakers,
and some of the boats shipped considerable
water, but we all landed in safety. The In
dians, however, were not so fortunate, some
of their canoes being swamped, and several of
the women and children drowned. No assist
ance could be rendered them, though a num
ber of the children, who were lashed to bundles
of Indian mats, were saved; the Indians and
squaws swimming and holding to the mats,
and thus keeping them from tuming over.
Others were saved by the canoes that followed,
and passed safely in.
We reached Mackinaw without further inci
dent about tbe middle of May, being among
the first to arrive from the Indian country.
Other "outfits" followed shortly after, the
last to arrive being from the Lake of the
Woods. I found letters from my mother awaiting
me, one of which announced the death of my
73

€Be ^utoBiogcapfjp of

father, which occurred soon after he reached
Arkansas. He was taken sick while on the
circuit. Having been but a short time in the
Territory, he had formed but few acquaintances,
and those mostly lawyers. My little brother,
Christopher, thus suddenly left, was kindly
cared for by R. P. Spalding, Esq., an attomey
of the Territory, whose father resided in Nor
wich, Conn., and in the following winter his
kind protector took him to Middletown, Conn.,
where he found friends and relatives.
My mother had left Montreal and returned
to New England, and had with her, her young
est daughter, Hannah, while my other sisters
had been placed at school, one in Windsor,
Vt., and the others in New London, Conn.;
thus were those most dear to me, and to each
other, cast upon the world without home or
protector. This news made me very sad,
and I determined to retum and care for my
mother and family, and accordingly tendered
my resignation, which the Company refused
to accept.
After a few days' sojoum I was detailed
under Mr. Matthews to receive and help count
the- furs brought in by the different outfits,
put them into packs, and get them in readi
ness for shipment to New York, whither they
were to go in a vessel chartered at Buffalo for
that purpose. This packing furs was very
hard work, and about one hundred men were
detailed to assist in it. Each skin must be
74

oBurtion ^alton^^tan I^uBBatti
beaten to remove the dust and any moths that
might be in it. The different qualities were
then carefully selected, and each packed into a
frame, which was put under a press made of
strong upright planks, on each side of which
were four-inch openings, and in these were
placed oak scantling, which filled the space
between the top of the pack and the head of the
frame. Wedges were then introduced between
the scantling and these driven in by wooden
mauls, as heavy as one man could wield, until the
furs would compress no further, when the pack
was firmly tied at ends and centre with rawhide
ropes. A stave was attached to each pack,
under the ropes, upon which was marked the
number. The number, quality and kind of
skins were then correctly invoiced. Work
commenced at five o'clock in the moming and
lasted until sunset, with an intermission of one
hour at noon. My duties did not, however,
end with sunset. I had to lock up before I
went to my supper, and after to write up the
accounts of the day, which often took until
midnight. This was the commencement for
me of real hard work, and lasted five or six
weeks. Robert Stewart had charge of the outside
work, while Mr. Crooks was the general di
rector of the affairs of the Company. These
two gentlemen were wholly unlike in character.
Mr. Crooks was a mild man, rarely out of tem
per, and governed more by quiet reasoning and
75

€J)e iautoBio0capf)p of

mild command than by dictation. Mr. Stew
art was one of those stern Scotchmen, who
gave his orders abmptly and expected them
obeyed to the letter, yet a man of a deal of
humor and fond of fun. He had a fund of
anecdotes and was excellent company. Though
he often gave unnecessary orders and required
everything to be done neatly and promptly, he
was kind and sympathetic. He was quick
tempered and wholly fearless, and the clerks
knew that his commands were to be obeyed
to the letter, but that if their duties were
properly performed they would receive full
credit and be treated with kindness and con
sideration. At one time, when he had sent men to Bois
Blanc Island to cut the year's supply of wood,
he learned that some of them had retumed,
and suspected that they had been sent for
whisky. He accordingly caused them to be
watched until his suspicions were confirmed.
When they were about to push off for their
retum he suddenly appeared, expressing great
surprise to see them. "What is the matter,"
said he; "have you met with an accident; are
any of you sick, or what are you here for?"
The bowman replied that they came over to
see some friends and get tobacco, and pro
ceeded to push the boat oft". Mr. Stewart
rushed into the water and seized the boat by
its bow; two of the men persisted in pushing
it off, but he succeeded in pulling the boat
76

<6uttion ^alton^tan l^uBBatti
ashore, and ordered the two men up into the
yard. Closing the gate, he told them they
were to be punished, and they, being very
angry, used insulting language, which threw
him into a towering rage. Seizing a stick he
knocked them both down, nearly killing one of
them. Dr. Beaumont, the surgeon of the fort,
was sent for, who examined the man, and pro
nounced his skull fractured and the result
doubtful. Mr. Stewart was in g^eat distress
and himself cared for the man through the
night, and was much relieved in his mind when
the doctor told him in the morning that he
thought the man would live, though a slight
increase in the force of the blow would cer
tainly have killed him.
This Mr. Stewart was the same man de
scribed by Mr. Irving in his "Astoria," as
having compelled the captain of the ship in
which he was sailing to tack ship and return
to an island for his uncle, who had gone ashore
while the vessel was becalmed and had acci
dentally been left there.
My good friend, John H. Kinzie, resided in
Mr. Stewart's family, and though much loved
and respected, was often the victim of his
temper or humor. On one occasion, when he
had finished making out a long invoice, which
he had taken unusual care to write nicely and
in commercial shape, and supposed he would
be highly complimented on its production,
delivered it to Mr. Stewart, who carefully
n

C^e ^[utoBiosrajJl^p of

looked it over, sheet after sheet, and on the
very last page discovered a blot and a figure
erased and rewritten. Pointing to them with
a scowl, he said, "Do you call this well done?
Go and do it over"; and he tore it into frag
ments. Poor John was sorely mortified, but
was consoled by Mrs. Stewart, who had been
instructed to do so by her husband, and pro
ceeded to rewrite his invoice, satisfied either
of his own imperfections, or of the disagree
able temper of his master.
At another time, an old voyageur who per
formed the duties of a house-servant for Mr.
Stewart, complained to him that John was
impertinent to him, ordering him to do things
instead of politely asking him to, and said that
at times he was tempted to strike him. "You
are right, old man," said Mr. Stewart. "The
boy is foolish; he should always treat an old
man with respect; give him a good thrashing
the next time he insults you; if you do not I
shall have to. Can you whip him in a fair
fight?" "Yes, sir," was the reply. "Then
do so; but be sure you strike him with nothing
but your fist." When John came to dinner
he told him to order the old man to shovel the
snow from a little yard in front of Mrs.
Stewart's window. "Make him do it at once,
and stand over him until it is done." The old
man was busy sawing wood in a shed when
John started to give him orders. As soon as
John was out of the way, Mr. Stewart slipped
78

oBurtion ^altmijeftan J^uBBari)
into another room to a window to see the fun.
John approached the old man, saying, "Old
man, you have wood enough sawed; get the
snow-shovel and clean away the snow from
the little yard." The old man made no reply,
but placed his thumb to his nose and made an
expressive movement with his fingers. "Did
you hear me?" "Yes." "Why don't you
mind?" "None of your business; you wait
till I get ready." "Ready or not, you have
got to clean away the snow right off." "Who
will make me? " " I, " said John, and, advanc
ing, rather unceremoniously put his hand on
the old man's shoulder, who resented by a
blow on the nose that started the blood. They
fought for some time, to the great enjoyment
of Mr. Stewart, and the lesson was not wholly
lost either on John or the other clerks.
One evening when a number of clerks were
sitting on the stoop just after tea, Jean Bap
tiste Beaubien came along boasting of his fast
mnning. Mr. Stewart had slipped up behind
us unperceived and heard Beaubien's boasting,
and said I •an beat you in a race from the
store to the cooper shop (about the distance
of a block). "No, you can't," said Beau
bien. "I will bet you a boot I can," said
Stewart. "Done; come on," said Beaubien.
So they took their stations and started. Mr.
Stewart stopped about half-way, with Beaubien
about a rod ahead; and, coming to the plat
form, said, "I'U pay the boot; but what wiU
79

€|^c ^utoBiograpBP of
you do with only one boot? " Beaubien in
sisted that he was to have a pair, but on refer
ring the matter to the parties, they decided
the bet was for one only. "Now," said Mr.
Stewart, "we will flip up a dollar to see
whether it shall be a pair or none. Here is a
dollar, ^fow, sir; heads I win, tails you lose.
Three flips?" "Yes." It was heads. "Oh,
heads I win. ' ' Next time it turns tails. ' 'Oh,
tails you lose." "Yes, yes," says Beaubien.
Throws again, and this time heads. "Heads
I win, Mr. Beaubien." "How the d — 1; I
lose the head, I lose the tail; by gar, you
make me lose all the time"; and, amid a roar
of laughter, Mr. Stewart made his exit.
This Beaubien had some education, could
read and write, and was very proud of his
accomplishments. Coming into the office one
moming, about daylight, he said to the book
keeper, "Mr. Bookkeeper, I write very fine,
and I make pretty figures." "Is that so?
Well, help me a little; put down on that paper,
one; now put down two; there, that's all;
now add them together." After some reflec
tion he announced the result as three.
"Now," said the Isookkeeper, "put down
two; now one; add them together." After
pondering over it for a time Beaubien looked
up with a radiant countenance and exclaimed,
"By gar he all make three," and went off
profoundly impressed with his own leaming and
proficiency in mathematics. 80

<6urtion J>alton$itan i^uBBatti
FISHING IN MUSKEGON LAKE.— A MONTH
OF SOLITUDE. — LOST IN A SNOW
STORM.— DEATH OF DUFRAIN.
I supposed I should be again detailed to the
Illinois river "brigade" with my old leader,
Mr. Deschamps, and was much surprised and
grieved, when the time arrived to select goods
and make ready for our departure, to receive
one evening a summons from Mr. Crooks to
meet him at his private office, when I was
informed that I was not to go to my old post,
but, in company with a Frenchman named
Jacques Dufrain, take charge of an outfit on
the Muskegon River. Dufrain could neither
read nor write, but had a large experience among
the Indians on the Peninsula of Michigan, and
I was to be govemed by his advice in trading.
I was told that the invoices would be directed
to me, and that I was to be the commander of
the expedition, and Dufrain simply my adviser,
and then I was not to allow his advice to
govern me when it differed materially with my
own views. Mr. Crooks also told me that
though I was young and inexperienced, he was
confident that with Dufrain's honesty and
acquaintance with the Indians, I would have no
difficulty in conducting the venture; the outfit
would be small, and we were to go in Mr. Des
champs' "brigade" to the mouth of the Mus
kegon or not, as we chose. Our headquarters
were to be some sixty miles up the river.
8i

€Jjc ^autoBiograpl^p of

This was, indeed, a bitter disappointment to
me, as I had counted very much on seeing
Mr. Kinzie's family, for whom I had formed a
great attachment, and had hoped for Mr. Des
champs' permission to spend two or three weeks
with them and the officers of Fort Dearborn,
and then go alone and join my companions at
Beaureau trading house. And besides, I had
left some of my clothing at Mr. Kinzie's to be
repaired and put in order by my retum. But
as there was no other alternative, I received
my goods with a good grace, and about the
middle of October, 1 8 19, started with the Illi
nois "brigade" on my second trip to the Indian
country. We camped the first night at Point Wagash-
vic and there remained wind-bound for the
space of a week, and soon thereafter reached
the Little Traverse. Here Mr. Deschamps
advised me to stop and purchase my canoe and
some Indian corn. About ten miles distant,
at the foot of the bay, was an Indian village,
and thither I sent my associate to make the
necessary purchases; and after an absence of
two days he returned with a canoe loaded with
Indians, and about eight bushels of corn and
some beans for our winter's stores. It was a
small supply, but all we could get, and having
paid for it we got ready to leave on the follow
ing morning.
When moming came we found the wind
blowing strong from the northeast, afterwards
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oBuction J>aftoit^n I^Bacti
changing to northwest and west, and for ten
days blowing a gale so that November had
come before we had started. We left before
the heavry sea had subsided, and with great
labor (there being but three men to row the
boat) reached Grand Traverse, where we were
again detained five or six days by adverse
winds; another start, more heavy sea, and Calp
River was reached, where we were again wind-
bound for several days.
Thus, with a heavily laden canoe and adverse
winds, often in great peril, sometimes shipping
water and narrowly escaping wreck, suffering
from cold, and worn with toil, we entered the
Muskegon River about the tenth of December
and found the lake frozen. The weather was
very cold, and the coast Indians had aU left for
their hunting grounds in the interior.
Dufrain said it would be impossible to reach
our destination, and recommended the repair
ing of an old abandoned trading house at a
point of the lake about one and one half miles
distant and there make our winter quarters.
This we decided to do, though it would be very
inconvenient, being from thirty to fifty miles
distant from the Indian hunting grounds, where
we should be compeUed to go to trade. By
breaking ice ahead of our boat we reached the
place, and went industriously to work to repair
the house and niake it tenantable.
We had not seen an Indian for fifteen or
twenty days, and as it was necessary to reach
83

€f)e ^utoBiograpl^p of

them, and let them know where we had located,
we decided to send an expedition in search of
them at once. Accordingly we made up an
assortment of goods into three packages of
about sixty pounds each, which, with a blanket
apiece, were to be carried by Jacques and the
two voyageurs who constituted our force; and
on a bright December morning they bade me
good-bye and started on their journey.
As Jacques was perfectly familiar with the
country, I did not look forward to a long ab
sence, and was content to remain alone. My
stock of provisions consisted of the corn and a
small quantity of flour, which we had brought
from Mackinaw, ai^d as I had my gun to depend
on I thought I should have no difficulty in pro
curing all the meat I desired.
Dufrain had told me that I should find no
game, but this I did not believe. I confined
my hunting trips to a mile or so of the house,
never daring to go out of sight of it, and for a
week found rabbits and squirrels in sufficient
numbers to supply me with food. Then came
a heavy fall of snow and for several days I could
find nothing to shoot, and as the work of walk
ing in two feet of snow was very laborious and
I expected Dufrain to retum very soon, I con
cluded to remain indoors, keep up a good fire,
and content myself with corn. I had, I think,
three books, which helped me to while away
the time.
We had found in the lake a drowned deer
84

oBurtion ^altotijeitaH l^uBBarti
which we had skinned, and this skin dried fur
nished me with a mat upon which to lie in
front of the fire. The fireplace was broad,
some three or four feet, and very deep, and so
took in large logs that made a warm, cheerful
fire. The timber under the hill, around the
house, had aU been cut off by its former occu^
pants, and procuring wood was a serious
problem. Through the deep snow from the
top of the hill I was obliged to carry it, and
for days I labored all the moming in getting
my day's supply of fuel. The snow being so
deep I could not haul or roU it down the hill, I
set about devising some way to overcome the
difficulty, and the idea of using the deer skin in
some way for a sled presented itself to my mind.
As it was not long enough to take on the four-
foot logs I cut them three feet only, and
having soaked the skin to make it pliable, I
laid a log on it, and tied up the sides of the
skin around it with a grape vine, and found I
had a pretty fair sled. My down-hill path soon
became hard and smooth, and extended to the
door of the house, and my load would fre
quently slide down to the bottom with me
astride of it.
In a Book of Travels in the Northwest,
which I had read, the author described the
manner in which some tribes of Indians caught
large fish during the winter. A hole was cut
in the ice, over which a small shelter was built
sufiSciently large for one person to sit in, and
85

€f)e autoBiograpIip of

made as dark as possible. The occupant then
stationed himself with a spear in his left hand
and a smaU wooden fish attached to a string in
his right; the imitation fish being jerked up
and down in the water attracted the larger
ones, and they were easily speared.
I thought that what an Indian could do in
that line, I could, and set about making my
preparations. I whittled out a stick into the
shape of a fish, shaping it as artistically as I
could, and colored it by searing with a hot
iron. In an excavation made for the purpose
I poured melted lead to sink it, and after hav
ing placed in the head beads for eyes I had quite
a natural looking fish, about four inches in
length. Placing my spear head on a handle,
I marched with them to the middle of Muske
gon Lake, cut a hole in the ice, and erected
a shelter by sticking poles in the ice and
stretching a blanket over them. Everything
being in readiness, I crawled into the hut, and
lying flat on the ice dropped my "little pet " —
as I called my little fish — and anxiously awaited
the result. I was soon gratified by the appear
ance of a large fish that made a dart at my
decoy. I hurled my spear at him, and — missed.
And thus every few minutes for more than
two hours r repeated the operation with the
same results, when, mortified and angry, I
returned, cold and hungry, to my solitary home
and made' a dinner of corn.
Brooding over my ill luck and awkward-
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<6urtion ^altottjeftaH I^uBBarti
ness and almost discouraged, I concluded that
"practice would make perfect," and that I
would try again on the following day, which
I did, and after an hour or so of unrewarded
effort I succeeded in catching a large lake trout,
with which I returned to my house and soon
had boiling in my camp kettle ; and never before
or since did fish taste so good. After that I
had no trouble in taking all the fish I wanted.
Every night a wolf came and devoured the
remnants of the fish I had thrown out. I
could see him through the cracks of my house,
and could easily have shot him, but he was my
only companion, and I laid awake at night
awaiting his coming.
Thus I lived for thirty long, dreary,
winter days, solitary and alone, never once
during that time seeing a human being, and
devoured with anxiety as to the fate of Dufrain
and his men, whom I feared had met with
some serious mishap, if, indeed, they had not
been murdered. My anxiety for the last two
weeks had been most intense, and at times I
was almost crazy. I could not leave my goods,
and knew not what I should do.
I looked upon the expedition as worse than
a faUure, and my first management of a trad
ing house as a disastrous one. I thought that,
should I live to return to Mackinaw, I should
be an object of ridicule among the traders, and
have incurred the lasting displeasure of my
employers, and this was to be the end of aU
87

€f>c iautoBio0ra}j!jp of

my bright anticipations for the future. Oh,
that I had been permitted to again accompany
Mr. Deschamps and join my old companions
at Beebeau's trading house.
My joy can be better imagined than described
when, one moming, I discovered a party of
men at the head of the lake coming towrrd me.
I supposed them to be Indians, but was soon
rejoiced to recognize among them Dufrain and
his two companions. Having disposed of all
their goods, and been successful in their trad
ing, they had secured a large number of furs,
and with the assistance of Indians, whom
they had hired and equipped in snow-shoes,
they had carried them on their backs. At the
sight of the rich treasures they unloaded all my
gloomy anticipations fled, and joy and satisfac
tion reigned in their stead.
The expedition had been one of g^eat sue- •
cess; the goods had all been disposed of, and in
their place they brought the finest and richest
of furs — marten, beaver, bear, lynx, fox, otter,
and mink making up their collection.
Dufrain had a long account to give of trials,
disappointments, and perseverance. He was
ten days in finding the first band of Indians, and
these had already been visited by an opposition
trader, who cleared the camp of aU the valu
able furs and told the Indians that no trader
would come to Muskegon. The Indians
regretted his late arrival, as he was a great
favorite with them. 88

<Dui:tion J>altott^n I^uBBatti
Though in their progress thus far they had
suffered greatly from want of provisions, and
had progressed but slowly and with great
fatigue owing to the depth of the snow, they
determined to push on to other camps and
dispose of their goods before the other trader
should reach them. Having provided himself
and party with provisions and snow-shoes,
Dufrain despatched an Indian to me to tell me
of his movements, and that he should be gone
twenty days longer, and started on his way.
We afterwards leamed that after a half-day's
travel the Indian injured his foot and was com
peUed to retum to the camp, and thus I was
left in ignorance of Dufrain's movements.
All was joy that night in our little household,
the men as glad to retum as I was to welcome
them . I feasted them bountifully on com soup
and fish and listened to the recital of the inci
dents of their trip.
Another trip was decided on to go to the
camp of some Indians he had heard of, but
not seen, and who were in need of clothing,
and had an abundance of furs. As time was
very precious, the foUowing day was devoted
to selecting and packing goods and making
preparations for departure. I decided to go
with this expedition, though Dufrain remon
strated, and told me I could not stand the
hardships of the joumey; that having never
traveled on snow-shoes I would have the mal du
roquette, or become sick, and thus detain
89

€fje ^utoBiograpBp of

them; but to my mind anything could be easier
endured than another month of such solitude
as I had just passed through, and mal du
raquette ot sickness were nothing to be com
pared with, what I had endured.
On th.e following morning we departed,
leaving one man in charge of the house.
Though my pack was only half as heavy as the
others, the day was one of untold misery to me,
never having walked in snow-shoes before.
The day was clear and cold, the country rough
and hilly and covered with underbmsh, and
every few minutes I tripped and fell, and
usually landed at full length and buried my
face in the snow, from which I could not arise
without assistance from the others. By noon
I was completely exhausted, and my load was
carried by one of the others; and though we
had made an early start, when we camped at
night we had traveled only about six miles.
Then came the preparations for the night's
rest. The snow was about two feet deep,
and shelter we had none. A place was selected
by the side of a large fallen tree, the snow was
scraped from the ground, and a place cleared
of about six feet by ten, dry and green wood
cut and piled up to the windward of the log,
and a fire stmck with flint and steel. Hem
lock boughs were cut for bedding, and these
covered with a blanket, to keep them down
and in place; then the packs were placed at
one end to protect our heads from the wind,
90

<6iu:tion ^altotti^Q i^uBBarb
and our beds were complete. During our
march we had killed two porcupines, and these
were dressed and toasted on sticks, and with
our pounded parched com made a very delicious
supper. And as we had eaten nothing since
early moming good appetites gave additional
zest to the repast.
After supper, a smoke, and then to bed, all
lying together on the hemlock beds, covered
with the two remaining blankets, with our feet
to the fire, which we replenished through the
night. I slept but little, being kept awake by
the aching of my legs, the muscles of which
were badly swoUen.
Before day all were up, and breakfast was
made from the remnants of the previous
night's supper, and by the time it was light
we were ready to resume our journey. I was
so stiff and lame that I could scarcely walk,
and Dufrain advised me to retum, he offering
to go part way with me, and there meet the
other man, whom I should send from the
house. I at first thought I would do so, but
the recollection of the lonely month of anxiety
I had passed there soon determined me to go
on with the party, and aU Dufrain's arguments
failed to change my purpose. Every step
caused me suffering, but as I warmed up the
pain by degrees left me. I had caught the
knack of throwing out the heels of my
snow-shoes by a slight turn of the foot,
and my faUs were less frequent, and when
91

€Iie ^utoBiograjpljp of

we camped at night we estimated that we had
made during the day about three leagues or
nine mUes.
During the day we had cut from a hoUow
tree two rabbits, and these with com furnished
our supper. Our camp was made as on the
previous night. In the morning we consumed
the remainder of our stock of corn, as we ex
pected to reach an Indian camp by night, and
made our usual early start.
Snow soon commenced falling, and con
tinued hard all day, and as the weather had
moderated the snow stuck to our shoes, making
them heavy and the walking very tiresome;
we failed to find the Indians, and camped for
the night with nothing to eat. The muscles of
my toes were very sore, and on removing my
moccasins and neips, I found my feet much
swollen, and at the tops where the strap
that held my snow-shoes was fastened, they
were red and bmised, sure signs of "mal du
raquette." The moming found me in a sad
condition, the sweUing much increased, and
the tops of my feet so sore that I could not
bear my snow-shoes without great pain; still,
on we went, I hobbling along as best I could.
The snow stiU fell, and about noon we reached
the Indian camp, and were provided with dinner
by a squaw, and did ample justice to the bear
meat and corn soup which she provided.
In the evening the Indians returned from
hunting and trapping, bringing a good supply
Q2

(Duttion .^alton^n I^uBBatb
of furs, and the following forenoon was em
ployed by them in selling their furs, and settling
with Dufrain for the goods he had sold to
them on a previous trip. We remained in
this camp five days, and I was very kindly
treated. The old squaw poulticed my feet
with herbs, and for two days I practiced every
hour or so on my snow-shoes, so that when we
left these hospitable people I felt well and
strong, and had no trouble in keeping up with
the others, nor was I tired at night. We
camped in the usual manner, having made
fifteen miles that day.
Just at dark of the next day, as we were pre
paring our camp, we heard the bark of a dog,
and knew the Indians were near; taking up
our march, we soon reached their camp, where
we remained for two days. A grand feast
was prepared by the Indians, partly in honor
of our visit, at which all the meat and broth
set before us must be eaten, and the bones
saved and buried with appropriate ceremonies,
as an offering to the Great Spirit, that he
might favor them in the hunt. The offering
was a fat bear, over which a great pow-wow
was first had by all the inmates of the lodges,
after which it was carefully skinned, cut into
smaU pieces, and put into the kettle in the
presence of all.
During the cooking, speeches were made by
some of the older Indians invoking the aid of
the Great Spirit, and when cooked the meat
93

€f|e ^utoBiograpBP of

was carefully removed from the kettles and
distributed in wooden bowls to each individual
present in such quantities as their age and
capacity for eating would seem to warrant, and
all received their just proportion. Then the oil
was skimmed off, and it and the broth divided
in a like manner; a harangue was delivered
by the head of the lodge, asking the Good
Spirit to favor them in the chase and keep them
well and free from harm; and then the eating
commenced. I thought they had given me a larger portion
than my age and capacity demanded, but Du
frain told me that I must eat all the meat and
drink all the oil and broth, and leave the bones
in my bowl; that a failure to do so would be
considered an insult to the Indians and an
offense to the Great Spirit. "But," I said,
' ' they have given me more than the others,
and it is impossible for me to swallow it all."
Dufrain replied: "They have given you the
best portion as a compliment; you must receive
it, and eat and drink every bit and every drop,
otherwise we shaU have trouble." "WeU,
you must help me, then," I said. "No," he
replied; "I can't help you; each person must
eat aU that is given him, and will not be allowed
to part with any portion of it; I am sorry for
you, as well as for myself, and wish it had
been a cub, instead of a fat bear, but I shaU
eat mine if it kills me."
It was between eight and nine o'clock at
94

<{Buttion J>aItonieitan I^uBBarb
night, and the fire, which fumished the only
light in the lodge, was low, and my location
was in the back part of the lodge, where my
movements could not be easily detected. I
wore a French capote or hood, which sug
gested itself to my mind as being my only
chance for disposing of a portion of the con
tents of my bowl, and I determined to attempt
it. I felt that extreme caution was necessary,
and no little dexterity required to slip the meat
into the hood unobserved; but I took the first
opportunity, and succeeded in safely depositing
a piece without detection even by Dufrain, who
sat next to me. I proceeded eating slowly, so
that no notice might be taken of the diminished
quantity in my bowl, and soon succeeded in
depositing another piece, and then a third, and
ended by eating the last piece. There still
renfained the oil and broth, and I feared that
my now overburdened stomach could not stand
this addition to its load. The grease had
soaked through the cloth of my capote, and I
could feel it trickling down my back, and I
told Dufrain, in Indian, that I must go out,
and asked him not to let my bowl be tipped
over while I was gone. The Indians laughed,
and I hastily made my exit, threw the pieces of
meat to the dogs, and then, thrusting my fin
gers down my throat, endeavored to produce
an eruption which should provide room for
what I StiU had to swaUow; faUing in this
attempt, however, I retumed to my place in
95

€fje SlutoBiograjpl^p of

the lodge, and by persistent effort finally suc
ceeded in swallowing the remainder.
The ceremony of gathering the bones was
then gone through with by the head of the
lodge picking them up very carefully and depos
iting them in a bowl, then another harangue,
and we were left to chat and barter as suited
us best.
From these Indians we learned of two camps
situated in opposite directions, and from them
engaged a guide to go with one of our men to
one camp, and from there to another, we had
before known of, and to retum home, where
we were to meet him. Dufrain, being well
acquainted with the country, felt confident that
he could go directly to the other camp in one
day's travel, and I decided to go with him.
When we lay down it was snowing hard, which
continued through the night. We arose as
usual before dawn of day, and partook of a
nice dish of corn soup, which had been pre
pared for us by the good squaw in whose lodge
we had slept, and as soon as possible started.
The snow continued falling, and being soft
stuck to our snow-shoes and made the traveling
very hard and fatiguing, and by ten o'clock I
discovered that my companion was in doubt
as to our whereabouts, and at noon we halted
near a large fallen tree to strike fire for a
smoke. When I asked him if we should reach
the camps that night, his reply was that we
should have reached the river by that time,
96

oBuction J^Uonjeftan I^uBBarti
which would have been more than half way.
He said he did not know where we were, the
woods looked strange, but perhaps that was
because there was so much snow on the trees.
It had then stopped snowing, though with no
appearance of clearing off.
Soon after we started the storm again com
menced harder than ever, and I clearly saw
that we were not going in the right direction,
and ventured to tell Dufrain so. He was very
passionate, and repUed sharply that if I knew
the way better than he I had better take the
lead; thus rebuked, I followed on in silence.
About four o'clock we found two tracks of
snow-shoes. "Ah," said Dufrain, "you see
we are right; these tracks are of to-day; there
is new snow on them; had they been of yester
day they would have been covered over so we
could not see them; they were made by hunters
from the camps this moming, but we can't g5
further than the river to-night. We will take
the back tracks and they wiU lead us to the
camps." It so happened that during the eariier part
of the day I had noticed a peculiar leaning
tree, which was now in sight, and I told him
we were lost, and would soon reach the log
where we had stopped at noon. He could not
believe that I was right, and on we went, but
before dark he was convinced by our reaching
the same log, and there we camped for the
night. We both slept soundly, and arose
97

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refreshed. The snow still falling, we hesitated
for some time, undecided whether to take our
back track to the camp we had left, or to
strike for the river in the direction we thought
it to be. Knowing that if the snow continued,
of which there was every prospect, our tracks
would soon be obliterated, and Dufrain feeling
confident that we could find the river and then
know where we were, we decided to proceed.
We traveled all day, and camped at night
without having reached it. Again, another
day's weary tramp with the same result, and
Dufrain was willing to admit that he had no idea
where we were. We still held our course, and
again laid down to sleep, very tired and hungry.
The following day Dufrain became very
weak, and was much frightened; still snowy,
clouded, and dark; srtow fully three feet deep.
When we started the next morning, the clouds
^ere breaking away, and by nine o'clock, the
sun burst forth for the first time since we left
the Indian camp. We then saw we were
traveling a westerly course, and changed to
the north. Dufrain was very weak, and our
progress was necessarily very slow. Near a
creek we found a thom-apple tree, and remov
ing the snow from the ground, found a few
apples, which we devoured with a relish, and
soon after struck the Muskegon River. Fol
lowing up the river, we discovered on the
opposite bank the poles of an Indian lodge,
bark canoes, and a scaffold upon which was
98

<l3ui:2ion ,^aIton^tan I^uBBarti
deposited ' matting for covering lodges . It was
very cold, the river full of floating ice, and not
fordable. Dufrain recognized the spot, and
said that a half mile above were rapids, where
the river could be forded. Having reached
the rapids we crossed with great difficulty, the
water in places being up to our waists, and
the ice floating against us. When we reached
the scaffold, our clothes were frozen stiff.
We took down some of the mats, cleared the
snow, and made a comfortable lodge, suffi
ciently large to shelter us.
Dufrain carried the flint, steel, and tinder
in a bag, and after we had gathered wood for
a fire, he discovered that he had lost it. We
were indeed in a serious predicament, covered
with ice, and shivering with cold; we supposed
that we should certainly freeze to death.
Dufrain abandoned all hope, and began to cross
himself and say his prayers. I opened the
bales of goods, and took from them what
blankets and cloth they contained, cut more
hemlock boughs, and took down more matting,
and then we lay down close to each other, and
covered up with the blankets and cloth. Soon
the ice on our clothing began to thaw from the
warmth of our bodies, and we feU asleep,
never waking until sunrise.
We did not feel hungry, but were very weak,
and neither felt inclined to move. We were
diy and warm, and felt more like lying where
we were and awaiting death than of making
99

€l|C 5autoBio0rapf)p of

any further effort to save our lives. We knew
the Indians could not be far away, and sup
posed we might soon find a snow-shoe path
which would lead us to their lodges, but were
not capable of making the effort to save our
selves. My Own reflections of the responsi
bility resting upon me, and thoughts of my wid
owed mother, brother and sisters, finally nerved
me to make an effort. I told Dufrain that we
must get up and go to the camps, and that I
would go and reconnoitre, find the path and
return for him; to my great disappointment,
however, I could find no snow-shoe tracks;
but after a careful search I discovered some
small saplings broken off just above the snow,
and could, by the feeling as I stepped, dis
cover that there was a path under the newly
fallen snow. I followed it for a short distance,
when I saw a blaze on a tree, and knew that I
was going in the right direction to find the
camps. I retumed for my companion, whom
I found sleeping, and seeming not to have
moved during my absence. With great diffi
culty I aroused him and put on his snow-shoes,
and then, having placed both packs upon the
scaffold, started on the march. I had much
trouble in keeping the path, which I followed
by the broken twigs and an occasional blaze
on a tree, and bur progress was very slow.
About noon we struck a fresh snow-shoe track,
and this gave me renewed energy, for I knew
it had been made by a hunter from the Indian
loo

<6uttion ^altottjD^n l^uBBacti
camps, and that by following the back track I
should reach the lodges. Dufrain was not in
the least moved by this good fortune; in fact,
was stupid and inclined to stop, frequently
crossed himself, whUe his lips moved as if in
prayer, and it required much effort and per
suasion on my part to get him to move slowly
forward, he frequently protesting that he could
not move another step.
Intent on my progress, and for a time for
getting my comrade, I advanced as rapidly as
possible, and on looking around for Dufrain,
I found he was not in sight; I deliberated a
moment whether to retum for him or continue
on my way. My own strength was fast faiUng,
and I feared that delay would be certain death.
I resolved, however, to make a last effort, and
tumed back; I found him lying asleep in the
snow. I tried to arouse him, but he would
open his eyes but for a moment, and say, "I
can't; leave me." Finding my attempts use
less, I dug away the snow, wrapped him in his
blanket, with mine over him, and left him.
I started forward conscious that I myself
might soon be in the same condition, though
determined not to give up while there was a
hope. I felt no hunger, but was very weak;
the perspiration ran from every pore, and at
times everything seemed to waiver before me,
with momentary darkness. I seemed almost
to faint; stiU I moved on, reeling like a drunken
man. Coming to new tracks, and hearing the
101

€f)e aiitoBtO0rapf)p of

barking of a dog, told me I was nearing a
lodge, and gave me new strength to advance.
Soon I was gladdened by the gUmpse of a
lodge, and a few minutes more was seated on
a bearskin within. It was a solitary hut on
the bank of a creek, and in it was a middle-
aged Indian, with his arm bandaged, and his
squaw with three or four young children. I
sat and awaited the usual custom of the Indians
to set before a stranger something to eat, but
seeing no move in that direction, I told the
squaw that I was hungry and had not eaten
for four days and nights. She exclaimed:
"Nin guid buck-a-ta-minna baein" (we too
are hungry; my husband broke his arm). She
opened a sack and took out a small portion of
pounded corn, which she stirred into a kettle
of water and placed over the fire to boil, and
soon as it was ready gave me a very smaU
quantity, about half a pint, and replaced the
kettle over the fire.
I supposed I was hung^, though I did not
feel so, and supping a little from the wooden
dish found it difficult to swallow. This fright
ened me and I lay down and slept.
I was awakened by the squaw, who gave
me more soup from the kettle, which I ate
with a relish and asked for more. "No,"
she said, "lie down and sleep, and I wiU awake
you and give you more after awhile. " This I
did, and was awakened after dark refreshed
but very sore and lame; took what soup was
102

ilBuction ^alton^n I^uBBatti
given me, and stiU wanting more; she refused
me, saying, "after a Uttle"; and that she
knew best how to relieve me.
I noticed that the children frequently went
out of doors, and that there was a look of
anxiety on the countenances of both the Indian
and squaw, which I thought was on my
account; but asking, he replied that his oldest
son went out early in the morning to try to
kill something for them to eat, and they were
fearful some accident had befallen him.
Up to this time I had not spoken of Dufrain,
because I saw there was no one to go for him,
and had there been, he could not have been
reached before dark. The moon would rise
about midnight, and then I had determined to
ask the squaw to go with me for him, though
I had no idea of finding him alive. They
were weU acquainted with him, and on my
teUing them of his situation the squaw parched
what corn she had left, pounded it and got it
ready, and we made preparations to go after
him. The squaw and her husband both thought
that their son had gone to the river to see if
the canoe and scaffold were safe, and that it
was his track that I had followed to the camp.
While we were discussing this idea, the dogs
barked; the children ran out, and soon returned
with the news that their brother had retumed ;
and he soon entered, bearing a cub, whereat
there was great rejoicing. It being the first
103

€I>e ^utoBiogcajpfjp of

of the larger animals he had ever killed, it must
be offered to the Great Spirit as a thank offering,
and the boy must fast for two days. The
father sat up and beat a drum ; the boy black
ened his face, the bear was skinned, and pre
parations made for a feast, though fortunately
the feast was not to be similar to the one I
had attended shortly before, when all was to
be eaten.
After hearing who I was, and that Jaco
(Dufrain's Indian name) had been left behind,
the boy volunteered to go with me in search
of him; and when the moon rose, though I
was scarcely able to move, we started. The
Indian and his wife protested against my going,
insisting that the boy and his mother could go
without me, and I should gladly have con
sented to remain had I not known that if my
comrade was found alive no one but me could
get him to make an attempt to move.
The boy in his hunting had made a long
detour, and on my describing the place where
I had left Dufrain, he was able to reach it by
a much shorter route than by following his
tracks as I had done. In about an hour we
reached Dufrain and found him apparently
lifeless, but stiU warm. By much effort we
aroused him so that he could speak, but he
persisted in remaining where he was, said he
was stiff and could not walk, and closed his
eyes and again dropped to sleep. It required
our utmost effort to raise him to his feet,
104

oSurlioit ^alton^n i^uBBarii
and by short stages to finally reach the camp
just as the sun rose.
We made him as comfortable as possible,
and by feeding him a little every few minutes
revived him. His feet and legs were badly
swollen, so much so that I was obliged to rip
his leggings to get them off; his feet were in
a most terrible condition; the strings of his
snow-shoes had so bruised his toes that blood
had oozed out and completely saturated the
neips; and, to add to his misery, the poor feUow
was mptured, and it was several days before
I could replace the protmding parts. He
gained slowly, and it was a week before he
could sit up; and despairing of his restoration
so as to be able to bear the joumey home,
with the assistance of the boy and his mother
I constructed a train-de-clese on which to
remove him.
During my ten days' stay I had daily caught
in traps from one to a dozen partridges; and
these, added to what the boy had killed, fur
nished us a sufficiency of food, though at times
our rations were Umited.
I finally got my sled fully rigged, though
my friend was stiU unable to sit up more than
an hour at a time. We had already spent
more than ten days, and I felt that I could
remain no longer, and a decision must be
made, either to leave him and retum for him,
or draw him on the sled to our home. The
old Indian said we might accompUsh his re-
105

€t^c ^utoBiogcapBP of

moval; but he thought it extremely doubtful,
the country being very hilly and covered with
underbrush. I left it to Dufrain to decide,
and as he chose to go, I started, with the
young Indian to assist me. We had a terrible
journey over hills and through thick under
growth, and after three days of most severe
toil reached our trading house, our invalid
having borne the journey remarkably well.
The other party had only returned two days
before, and all were anxious about us, and
were about organizing an expedition to go in
search of us. I was almost worn out from
the hardships I had endured and from drag
ging my comrade.
Dufrain never left our cabin untU we carried
him to a canoe in the spring to start for
Mackinaw. There was a light wind the day
we started and the motion of the canoe caused
vomiting, and before we could reach a harbor
at White River he died, and we buried him
in the bluff. He was very fond of card-play
ing during his life, and some Indians having
camped on the bluffs where we buried him
reported that at night they heard his voice
calling out the name of the cards as he played
them, "corno" (diamond), "cune" (heart),
etc.; and though the river vras a great resort
for the Indians in the spring, where they used
the peculiar white clay for washing their blan
kets, for years after they avoided it, believing
it to be haunted. io6

<2Burtion ^altottiOitaU I^uBBarti

KALAMAZOO RIVER. — COSA. — AI^ ACCI
DENT.— A VISIT. — WOLF STORIES.—
CROOKED CREEK.
We were among the very first of the traders to
reach Mackinaw, and after making my retums
to Mr. Stewart I was detailed for a time to the
retail store. On Mr. Matthews' return from
Montreal I was assigned to duty under him in
the assorting and packing house, where the
business was conducted in the same manner
as previously described, and lasted until the
last of July or first of August.
My third winter was spent on the Kalama
zoo River, in Michigan, my trading house
being on the north bank of the river, and
opposite the present city of Kalamazoo, and
for the first time I had full control of an
"outfit." My crew consisted of three Canadians, who .
were accustomed to trading at that post, and
an Indian named Cosa, weU and favorably
known among the Indians for bravery and in
telligence. He had years before abandoned
hunting, preferring to engage for the winter
with some one of the regular traders as an
ordinary man or voyageur. He received one
hundred dollars for his winter's service, which
was considered a high price for so short a time,
and was as much as two Canadians received
for a whole year. But as he was perfectly
famiUar with the country, and weU acquainted
107

Cfje ^utoBiograpfjp of

with the Indians, had a good reputation as a
trader, and furnished two horses of his own,
besides the services of his wife, I was glad to
secure him even at that price.
This post was a pleasant one, though the
hunting grounds were very much scattered,
which made constant watchfulness and activity
necessary to secure the furs and dispose of
goods. The winter was one of great hardship,
and my men were constantly out collecting
furs, and occasionally I myself made a trip.
Cosa sometimes took his wife with him in
place of a man — she riding on one of the
horses. One evening on their return they reported
having come across a camp of Indians on a
branch of the Paw-Paw River, who had an
abundance of furs and peltries, but Cosa,
being out of goods, could only get from them
what they already owed.
One of the Indians was very sick, and his
friends had sent for a famous Indian doctor,
who Cosa said always introduced his curing
ceremonies by a drunken carousal. Cosa
thought that we might get their furs if we could
reach them ahead of ihe St. Joseph traders
(who were connected with an opposition com
pany), but he considered a little whisky abso
lutely necessary to secure their trade. I asked
him to return to their camp in the moming
with goods only, but he said he was very tired.
I told him that it was but a short day's joumey;
io8

((Burtion J^alton^e^tan i^uBBacti
that he could take his other horse that had been
resting; to pack his goods, and that I would
go with him, and leave his wife to keep house.
He replied that it would be of no use without
whisky, but that if I would take the smaU keg
he would go. He really needed two or three '
days' rest, and had the reputation of being a
stubborn, fearless fellow, this reputation being
confirmed by his many scars, and I did not
like to command him to go. Heretofore he
had shown a good disposition, was obedient and
willing, and seemed to take more interest in
the expedition, and had a gpreater desire for
good results, than any of the other men, and
I did not like to anger him if it could be
avoided. I sought a private opportunity of
consulting his wife, who confirmed all he
had said, remarking, however, that she feared
her husband could not refrain from joining in
the ceremonies and getting dmnk with the
others. Her views decided me to accede to
Cosa's wishes, and I said to him: "Now,
Cosa, if we take the little keg and go to-morrow,
will you promise to stick by me, and not taste
a drop?" He promised, and that night two
bales of merchandise, vMth the little two-gallon
keg of highwines, watered one-third, were pre
pared; and at daylight in the moming the
pony was brought from the woods, saddled
and loaded, and we started, Cosa taking the
lead. I had also provided an empty one-gallon keg,
109

€I|e amoBioffrapljp of

and when about dark we arrived within hearing
of the camp, I told Cosa that we would fiU
our small keg, mixed with half water, and hide
the other, so that the Indians thinking that
was all we had would be the sooner satisfied.
To this he assented, saying it was wise.
Though the highwines had been diluted one-
third it was still quite strong. Having no
funnel, how to further mix it was a dilemma,
but we soon found a way. We would draw a
mouthful from the larger keg and spit it into
the smaller, and then take a mouthful of water
and transfer it in the same way, Cosa and I
alternating in the operation. It would have
been wiser had I done this alone; but I found it
burned my mouth badly and so permitted him
to aid me, and thus gave him a taste, though
I hardly think he swallowed any at the time.
The transfer having been made, we hid the
larger keg and proceeded to the camp, and to
our disappointment found that Bartrand men
had been there the day before and secured all
the furs and peltries except a few remnants.
Some of the Indians had gone for the medi
cine man, while others had gone to Bartrand
for whisky, which had been promised them in
the trade. I would have returned had it been
possible, but the horse was tired out, and the
night very dark, so we accepted comfortable
quarters which were tendered us, Cosa prom
ising not to disclose the fact of our having
whisky. The secret got out, however, and
no

ttBurtion J>alton^fl i^uBBacii
at early mom I was beset on every side, Cosa
joining in the demand for the whisky.
There seemed to be no way but to sell a
little, so I extorted a promise from Cosa to
remain with me in the lodge and not to drink
any, and commenced collecting what few furs
they had in exchange for the whisky.
Cosa did not long keep his promise, but
began to drink, and I saw the necessity of
rehiding the larger keg before Cosa should
reach the place. With the assistance of a
squaw I changed the hiding place, first having
refilled the smaller keg (which I again diluted),
and hid it on the scaffold of the lodge I was
in, and carefully covered it over. Cosa had
told the other Indians I had more whisky, and
joined them in urging me to give it to them,
stating that if I did not they would go and take
it; and being refused they went with him in
search of it. Being disappointed in their at
tempts the Indians began to separate and go
to their 'odges, and soon all was quiet in the
camp. As my feet were wet I pulled off my moc
casins and laid down in a wigwam with my feet
to the fire. Cosa stiU importuning me for
more drink, and I positively refusing, he, with
two drunken companions, after a long search,
succeeded in finding the concealed keg. The
squaw who assisted me in hiding the "fire
water" had watched them, and quickly in
formed me of their discovery. I ran out into
III

€!)e ^utoBiogcapl^p of

the snow barefooted, and succeeded in reach
ing the place before they could remove it from
the scaffold. I told the two Indians that it
was my property, and not theirs; that I should
give them no more, and forbade them to touch
it. They desisted, but Cosa, to show his inde
pendence, advanced to take the keg, when I
seized him by the throat, threw him on his
back, and placing my knees on his stomach,
choked him so he could neither move nor
speak, and held him thus until the squaw had
removed the keg and again hidden it. I would
not let him up until he promised me to lie
down and sleep; for a time he refused to prom
ise; but as I only released my grip upon his
throat long enough for him to answer, and
then tightened it with renewed vigor, he was
soon glad to promise, when I allowed him to
arise and conducted him to my own comfort
able quarters, covered him up, and lay down by
his side.
Cosa was considerably injured, and after
becoming sober slept but little. I myself kept
wide awake until daylight, when I arose, got
the pony from the woods, loaded him, and as
soon as we had eaten our breakfast we departed
homeward, picking up the keg on the way.
Cosa was very hoarse from his severe choking,
and very much mortified and humbled, and
begged me not to tell what had taken place
when we reached home; he was afterward
very faithful and attentive td his duties.
112

^urtiott J>aItottjG(tan I^uBBatti
In the month of November I made a trip to
Chicago, and had a very deUghtful visit of a
week in Mr. Kinzie's family, received my
clothing which I had left there on my previous
visit, and returned to my post.
During the fall of this year I made a cache in
the sandhills at the mouth of the Kalamazoo
River, in which I concealed many valuables,
and early in the month of March foUowing I took
one of the men and went in a canoe for the art
icles. We found everything safe and in good
condition, and having loaded them into the canoe
started home. The weather was very severe
for the season, and the snow still deep, which
made our camping very unpleasant, and the
current being swift, we had much difficulty in
ascending the rapids, at the foot of which we
had made our night's camp. I had collected
some fine mink, otter, and other furs at two
Indian camps on the route, and these, added
to the articles taken from the cache, made a
very valuable load.
I took my position in the bow of the canoe,
leaving my man to steer. We had passed the
rapids, but were stiU in a very strong current,
when we came to a fallen tree lying in the
river which formed a partial eddy. In pushing
around the tree the strong current struck the
boat sidewise, caused it to careen, and I lost
my 'balance. To prevent the canoe from up
setting I allowed myself to go overboard and
swam down the river; the man quickly tum-
113

€f)e ^utoBiograplip of

ing the head of the boat down stream, we both
landed at the bottom of the rapids at the same
time, where we found the fire of our previous
camp still buming. After I had dried my cloth
ing we again ascended, and reached home the
following day without further mishap.
Nothing unusual occurred at my post that
winter further than I have related.
I made a call on Rix Robinson, who was a
trader on Grand River above Grand Rapids,
also in the employ of the American Fur Com
pany, and my nearest neighbor. It was in the
month of January, a few days after a thaw
which had flooded the river, and when I
reached the South Branch of Grand River I
found the bottoms flooded, but frozen hard
enough to bear me up, the river very high and
fiUed with floating ice, and no means of cross
ing, and I had either to return or swim for it.
Though the day was very cold, I chose the lat
ter, undressed, and having tied my clothing in
as compact a bundle as possible, rested it on
the back of my neck, holding it in place by a
string between my teeth. I plunged in and
soon landed on the opposite shore, and dress
ing myself as quickly as possible, I started on
a run and soon became thoroughly warmed.
It was growing late, but being on the trail
leading to Robinson's I felt sure of reaching
his house, and arrived on the bank of the main
river opposite to it about nine o'clock. I hal
loed a number of times, and began to despair
114

<(Btu:tion .^aiton^E^n i^uBBatti
¦ ¦ -III ¦! I 1 ¦¦¦ I I ¦ II,  ¦¦¦— ^^^ I I J I II ,
of being heard, and thought I should be com
pelled to camp for the night almost at the door
of my friend. I gave my last and strongest
yell, aroused a Frenchman, who came down
to the shore and answered me, saying, in
Indian, "Can't come over," and explaining
that there was too much floating ice to cross.
My answer, in French, telling who I was
brought from him the reply, "Wait, we wiU
come over"; after a short time two men came
for me in a boat, and I soon found myself
beside a warm fire in my friend's cabin; supper
was ordered, to which I did ample justice.
Robinson was much surprised at the account
of my crossing the river. I spent a few days
very pleasantly, and before leaving arranged
with my host to wait at the mouth of the river
for me on his way back to Mackinaw, so that
we might proceed from there in company, I
promising to be at the meeting place at an
appointed day, not later than the tenth of May.
Leaving Robinson's cabin at early dawn I
reached my own post soon after dark, having
traveled sixty miles. I had made a successful
winter, and disposed of all my goods except
a few remnants, and about the twentieth of
April abandoned my post and descended the
river, stopping for a day or two at the foot of
the rapids, where a large number of Indians
were assembled to catch sturgeon.
In due time I reached Grand River, where
I found Mr. Robinson awaiting me, and after
"5

€f)e autoBiograjJljp of

a rest of six or eight days we left for Macki
naw. We were among the first to arrive,
and after settling my accounts, I was again
detailed to the fur-packing house for the season.
I had received letters from my mother
telling of her loneliness and of her great desire
to see me, and felt very badly over the news
these had conveyed; and when Mr. Crooks
told me I was to again return to my post on
the Kalamazoo River, I asked to be dis
charged, giving as a reason that my mother
was a widow, and my brother and four sisters
were all younger than myself, and needed my
services and protection. I was then eighteen
years old, and felt myself a man in all things.
Mr. Crooks said the company could not spare
me, and he thought I could serve my mother
and family more acceptably by remaining;
told me that he had corresponded with my
mother, and when last at Montreal intended
to have gone to Connecticut to see her, but
had not the time, and by his arguments pre
vailed upon me to remain.
I expressed my desire to again go out with
the Illinois "brigade," giving my reasons
therefor; and these, aided by Mr. Deschamps'
solicitations (he claiming that, he had only
consented to part with me for a year, expect
ing me to retum and take charge of the post
on the Illinois River), induced Mr. Crooks —
though reluctantly — to give his consent to my
going out with my old friend and comrade.
ii6

oBurtion J^altottj^Q I^uBBarti
In due course of time our "brigade" started,
the twelve boats led by Mr. Deschamps and
the old familiar boat song. I was again with
my old companions, all of whom gave me a
cordial welcome. Day after day we pursued
our voyage, the ever monotonous row, row,
being varied by no incidents of interest, until
we reached Chicago. We had made an un
usually quick trip, having been delayed by
adverse winds but two or three days on the
entire joumey. Again I was rejoiced with a
home in Mr. Kinzie's family, and remained
there for several days, until the "brigade"
again moved for the Illinois River.
The water in the rivers was unusually low
this season, and in places the Desplaines could
be crossed on foot without wetting the sole of
the shoe; or, more properly speaking, the
skin of the foot, as covering was out of fashion,
or had not come in, at that time.
We were compelled to carry our goods and
effects from the South Branch to the Des
plaines on our backs, leaving our empty boats
to pass through the usual channel from the
South Branch to Mud Lake, and through that
to the West End, and through the other channel.
Having completed the portage to the Des
plaines and encountered the usual fatigues in
descending that river, without unusual delay
or accident we reached Bureau Station, where
I had passed myfirst winter. Mr. Beebeau was
StiU in charge, though he was much more feeble
"7

€J)C ^utoBiograpfip of

than when I last saw him, nor had his temper
and disposition undergone any change for the
better, but on the contrary he was more irri
table and disagreeable, if this was possible.
My friend Antoine was also there and delight
ed to see me, and we spent many hours
together, talking over old times and recounting
our hunting experience of the winter of i8l8-
19. He had grown to manhood and was fully
able to perform the duties and endure the
hardships of a voyageur, in which capacity
Mr. Deschamps engaged him for that post.
He was greatly disappointed when he learned
that I was not to winter with them but was to
take the position of trader at a new post fur
ther down the river; he applied to Mr. Des
champs to be transferred to my post, but this
was refused him, Mr. Deschamps stating to me
that he feared I would not have the obedience
from him that my position required, owing to
our previous intimate relations in which he had
been both my companion and equal. I saw
the justice of this and acquiesced in his deci
sion. Before parting, however, Antoine and
I took a day's hunting together, tramping over
ground which had become so familiar two years
before, and recalling many pleasant incidents
of those happy days.
After resting a few days, and selecting the
goods and men to be left at that post, we
proceeded on our way, making our next halt
at Fort Clark (Peoria), where we found several
118

oButtion J>a{ton$^n I^uBBacti
families had located, among whom were Mr.
Fulton, the first pioneer settler at that point,
who StiU resides in that county; a Mr. Bogar-
dus, brother of General Bogardus, of New
York, a highly intelligent gentleman, and his
estimable and accomplished wife.
Two miles below, at a point now known as
Wesley City, was Mr. Beason's post, and
there we remained about one week, during
which time I went almost daily to the fort.
WOLF STORIES.
A melancholy incident occurred there during
the winter. On the river bottom opposite
Beason's post were a half-dozen or more
lodges of Pottawatomies. An aged squaw,
accompanied by a young granddaughter, was
retuming from an absence from the camp, and
when at Kickapoo Creek they were attacked
by a large female timber wolf and her cubs.
The Uttle girl escaped, and mnning home
reported to her brother, who immediately
started to the old squaw's rescue. On reach
ing the place he found the wolves had killed
his grandmother and were feasting upon her
flesh. Though armed only with a tomahawk
and knife, he boldly attacked the animals and
succeeded in driving them away from her body,
but not without being himself badly bitten,
and, indeed, I doubt not he would have
departed for the "happy hunting grounds"
119

€f>e 9tutoBiograjpl^p of

by the same route his grandmother had taken
had he not been reinforced by his friends, who
had learned of his peril.
It is rarely that a wolf will attack a human
being, unless closely pressed or famishing with
hunger. I remember that once when Noel
Vasseur and myself were eating our lunch at
Blue Island, while our horses were grazing,
a wolf came so close to us that Vasseur toma
hawked him.
Another time, Jacques Jombeaux and myself
had camped for the night, and before lying
down I went to look after my horse, which I
had spanceled on the prairie. I found him
feeding quietly, and retuming, I noticed what
I supposed to be an Indian dog following me.
I called and whistled to him, but he paid no
attention to the noise. When I reached the
camp I told Jacques that there was a camp of
Indians near, as I had been followed by one of
their dogs, and that he must hang up the
provisions. He hung them on a sapling close
by our camp fire. We were lying with our
feet close to the fire when my supposed dog
came up and put his forefeet on the sapling in
his efforts to get our meat. The light of the
fire showed him to be a prairie wolf, and enabled
Jacques to shoot him with his rifle.
I knew of an Indian who was treed by a
pack of wolves, and there kept for eighteen
or more hours, until his comrade, becoming
alarmed at his absence, found and relieved him.
120

oButtion ^alton^n !^uBBarti
We left Beason's and proceeded on our way
to other stations down the river. Mr. Des
champs decided to establish a new post at the
mouth of Crooked Creek, and to locate me in
charge. We soon agreed upon the spot on
which to build my house, and my outfit having
been unloaded Mr. Deschamps proceeded on
his way.
We first constmcted a pen of logs, the sides
of which were about six feet high, within which
was packed my goods; these were covered with
sails and tarpaulins. Our camp was made
on the south side of the inclosure, both for
convenience and the better protection of the
goods. These arrangements having been com
pleted we proceeded immediately to build a
good-sized trading house.
Before reaching this place I had felt symp
toms of ague, loss of appetite with slight chills;
still I managed to keep up, and my house
building progressed so well that by the time of
Deschamps' return it was up and the store part
covered, so that the goods could be moved
into it. Mr. Deschamps thought my symp
toms denoted bilious fever and prescribed for
me accordingly.
My fever continued to increase, and I be
came very sick, was unable to sit up, and daily
grew worse.
Two Frenchmen, who had been shooting
geese and swans at Portage de Sioux, came
down the lUinois River in a large pirogue, on
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€lie ^utoBiograpIjp of

their way to St. Louis to market their game.
Though their boat was heavily laden, by prom
ising to pay for the game they would be
compelled to leave to make room for me, and
also to pay liberally for my passage, I succeeded
in persuading them to take me as a passenger
to St. Louis, where I felt compelled to go to
consult a physician, and their arrival seemed
providential. While the men were eating I made prepara
tions for my departure. Calling my interpreter,
I told him of my determination, and instructed
him that should I fail to return by a certain
day he should send word to Mr. Deschamps
and ask for orders. My men went to work
with a will moving and repacking, the game so
as to give sufficient room for me in the boat
without leaving any part of the load, and I
was carried and placed in the boat, in as
comfortable a position as could be found.
The wind was from the south, and the river
very rough; the motion of the boat caused me
to vomit excessively and I soon became un
conscious. The men carried me along until
they came to a settler's cabin near the bank of
the river, and supposing me to be dying, took
me ashore, left me there, and pursued their jour
ney. I do not know how long I was unconscious,
but when I awoke I found myself in bed,
while a young girt was sitting by fanning me.
She jumped up and called her mother, who
coming in, cautioned me not to get excited, gave
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4B>uriJon .^altonirtan l^uBBarti
me some tea, and while I was drinking it told
me where I was and how I came there. From
that time I improved rapidly, and in the course
of a week or ten days I was able to start on
foot for my trading house, about thirty-five
miles distant, which I reached in two days,
much to the joy and astonishment of my men.
I cannot conceive why I have lost from my
memory the name of those hospitable people,
who took me into their house and nursed me
so kindly, but so it is, and their name I cannot
remember. I never saw them but once after
ward. I found my house was nearly completed. I
had a good appetite, and increased daily in
strength, so that I was soon able to hunt on the
river bottom, ranging two or three miles from
the house. One bright November moming I
started out for a turkey hunt, and soon came
across some fresh horse tracks which I sup
posed were those of Indian ponies, and gave
them no further thought; but at a little
creek I saw the tracks again, and in a muddy
spot I noticed the fresh impression of a horse
shoe, and so followed their trail, and after
about a mUe travel came up with the riders
and found them to be Mr. John Wood and
Mr. Tilden, on their way to the mUitary tract
to locate soldiers' land-warrants. I thought
they were lost (though the Govemor always
denied it), as they were not in the direct course,
and their tracks made a strange circuit for
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Cl^e ^utoBiograpljp of

persons knowing their whereabouts. I led
them to my house and prepared fbr them the
best meal in my power, of which they ate very
heartily and with decided relish. Govemor
Wood has often told me that it was the best
meal he ever ate. I am quite willing to be
lieve it was good, and flatter myself that the
cooking I did in those days, if not in the style
of a French cook, was, for plain food, deserv
ing of great praise. I have never tasted of
any roast turkey that seemed to me so excel
lent as those fat wild ones killed and prepared
by my own hands.
I used to hang them in front of my large
fire place suspended by a string, and gently
turn them with a long stick until they were
nicely browned, and then with fat raccoon or
bear meat boiled, I had a (iiiincr fit for a king.
My new found friends left mc in the afternoon
though I tried hard to detain them; like most
of the enterprising "Yankees" of those early
days they could not be stayed. Both of these
gentlemen located in Quincy, Illinois, became
prominent citizens, and finally died there.
Mr. Wood was at one time Governor of the
State of IHinois, and I ever considered him as
one of my warmest friends.
My house was soon completed and furnished
with floor, three-legged stools, table, and bunks,
all made of puncheons. It was lighted by a
window in the south end, made of two sheets
of foolscap paper nicely greased; and with a
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<l5utlion .^aftottiGftan i^uBBacij

fine large clay chimney that would take in a
six-foot log, I felt that the cold or storms of
winter could have no terrors for me.
I was now fully recovered in health, and aU
my care and anxiety was for the success of the
winter's trade.

ATTACKED BY AN INDIAN.— ALEXIS ST.
MARTIN.— SLEEPING BEAR.
The Indians were Kickapoos and Delawares,
and being a stranger among them, I was
forced to depend on my interpreter, who was
well acquainted with them, to know whom to
trust. It was our custom to give the Indian hunters
goods on credit, in the fall of the year, so that
they might give their whole time to the hunt,
and, indeed, it would have been difficult, if not
impossible, for them to hunt without the nec
essary clothing, guns, and ammunition. The
conditions of this credit were that these ad
vances should be paid from the proceeds of
their first winter's hunt, but should they fail
to pay, after having devoted aU their furs for
the purpose, and shown a disposition to act
honestly, the balance was carried over to the
next year, but this balance was seldom paid.
The debtors reasoned that, having appropriated
the entire proceeds of their season's hunt to
the liquidation of their indebtedness, it was
the fault of the Great Spirit that they had not
125

€fie ^utoBiogra|tl)p of

been able to pay in full, and so they considered
the debt canceled. We were very careful
who we trusted. We satisfied ourselves
first, that the person's intentions were honest,
and that he was industrious and persevering;
and, second, that he was a skiUed hunter and
trapper, and knew where to find game in abun
dance. If he lacked in these qualifications he
was deemed unworthy of credit, at least to a
large amount.
I was applied to for credit by an Indian
who my interpreteir said "never paid," or if
he paid at all, it was only a portion of his in
debtedness. I accordingly refused him, at
which he was greatly angered and threatened
revenge. One morning shortly after, I was sitting
alone before the fire in my cabin, on a three-
legged stool made of puncheons, reading a book,
when the Indian returned and stole softly into
the room, and up behind me, with his toma
hawk raised to strike me. I did not hear
him, but saw his shadow, and looking up
quickly saw him, and threw up my left arm
just in time to arrest the blow. The handle
of the tomahawk striking my arm, it was
thrown from his hand and fell on the floor
close to the fire-place. The corner of the
blade cut through my cap and into my fore
head — the mark of which I still carry — while
my arm was temporarily paralyzed from the
blow. I sprang to my feet just as he reached
126

<6urtion J>altoniE^tafl S^uBBacb
to his belt to draw a knife, and throwing my
arms around his body, grasped my left wrist
with my right hand, and held him so firmly that
he could not draw his knife. I aUowed him
to throw me down on the floor, and roU me
over and over in his exertions to liberate him
self and reach his knife, while I made no
exertions except to keep my grip. I bled
profusely from the wound on my forehead, and
my eyes were frequently blinded by the blood,
which I wiped off as well as I could on his
naked body. It was fully five minutes be
fore my arm began to recover sensitiveness,
and a much longer time before I recovered its
full use.
My grasp was weakening, yet I clung on
afraid to tmst to my lame arm. My opponent
was breathing very heavily, and I knew he was
exhausting his strength in his efforts to rid
himself of my embrace, whUe I was saving
mine. When my arm had sufficiently recov
ered, and we had rolled up to where the stool
lay, I let go of him, and seizing the stool struck
him a stunning blow upon the head, which I
followed up with others on his head and face,
until he showed no further signs of life, when
I seized him by his long hair and dragged him
out of doors, whooping for my men, who soon
made their appearance. Just then his squaws
appeared on the scene. He had come on his
pony, teUing them he was going to kiU Hub
bard, and they had followed on as rapidly as
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€f|e ^ntoBio0raj>fip of

they could on foot. They bathed his head
with cold water, and, greatly to my reUef, soon
restored him to consciousness. I reflected
that I had punished him too severely, and
regretted that I had done more than to strike
him the first blow and then disarm him. My
men were greatly alarmed, and especially so
was my interpreter, whom I sent to the chief
of the band to explain the case.
The chief returned with my man and blamed
me for injuring him so severely, thinking it
would result in his death. However, he used
his influence with the band in my favor, telling
them the goods were mine, and that I had
a perfect right to refuse to seU them on credit
and to defend myself when attacked, and they
soon separated for their winter hunting
grounds, much to my relief. The injured
Indian did not recover so as to do any hunting
that winter, and occasionally sent me a message
demanding pay for his injuries, which I posi
tively refused, much to the dissatisfaction of
my confidential man.
The winter passed and we were ready to
break up, daily expecting orders from Mr.
Deschamps to start on the return trip to
Mackinaw. The Indians had retumed from
their hunting grounds and were camped some
five or six miles from us. They had mostly
paid up, though the winter had not been a suc
cessful one for them.
The chief was a young man, and had become
128

<{Burtion ^alton^tall l^uBBartJ
very friendly to me. He advised me to give
presents to the Indian I had injured; but I still
persisted in my refusal, determined to risk the
consequences rather than to pay a man for
attempting to kill me. This was reported
to my enemy, who had fully recovered his
strength, and exasperated him still further.
One morning he came with two of his friends,
all with blackened faces, a token of war, and
demanded of me pay for his injuries. I again
refused, telling him that it was his own fault;
that he came upon me stealthily, and would
have killed me had I not discovered him just
in time to save myself. While thus talking I
heard the tramp of horses, caused by the arti-
val of the chief and others of the band, who,
hearing of his intention to seek revenge, had
hastened to try to effect a friendly arrange
ment. On entering I stated to the chief the demand
made upon me, and my refusal, and that now
he and his friends had come like men, and not
like squaws, and that this time I was prepared
for them.
"I came," I said, "among you with goods
for your accommodation ; trade was my object,
and I have as much right to do as I please
with my goods as you have with the pony you
ride. You would not allow any one to take
him without your consent; and, should any one
attempt to take him by force, would you not
defend yourself? Or would you, Uke a coward,
129

€Bc JEutoBiograpfjp of

give him up? Say, would you? " "No," he
replied. "Neither did I, nor wiU I. Iam
very sorry for what I did — I mean, the result,
causing the loss of his winter's hunt; but I
win not pay him for it." The chief said to
them, "The trader is right; the goods were his;
he would not trust because our friend (point
ing to the interpreter) said you never paid.
We aU know that is tme." After a moment
of silence the Indian extended his hand to me,
which I took. "Now," I said, "we are
friends, and I wish to give you some evidence
of my friendship, not to pay you, but only as a
token of my good wiU. " We all had a smoke,
and I presented him with articles he most
needed, much to his surprise. And so that
difficulty was ended, much to the satisfaction
of my men, who were fearful that great trouble
would result from it.
About ten days after the above settlement I
received orders from Mr. Deschamps to vacate
my post and join the "brigade" at Beason's
post. There we remained a week or more,
during which time I formed an intimate
acquaintance with the settlers at Peoria.
About the first of April we resumed our
journey toward Mackinaw, proceeding leisure
ly, and reaching Chicago in due season, where,
as usual, I found a warm welcome from the
Kinzie family and officers of the fort. A week
or ten days was thus joyfully spent, and I
deeply regretted the day of our departure.
130

<6utt)on ^altonj^tan l^uBBarb
Coasting, as before, the east shore of Lake
Michigan, we arrived at Mackinaw early in
June. On the sixth of that month I was
present when Alexis St. Martin was shot, and
am probably the only living person who wit
nessed the accident.
The late Major John H. Kinzie had charge
of the American Fur Company's retaU store
at MichiUmackinac. I was in the habit of
assisting him occasionally when a press of
customers needed extra clerks. The store
comprised the ground floor near the foot of
Fort HiU, on the corner of the street and the
road leading up to the fort. The rear part of
the store was underground, built of stone,
which is still standing.
This St. Martin was at the time one of the
American Fur Company's engagees, who, with
quite a number of others, was in the store.
One of the party was holding a shot-gun (not
a musket), which was accidentally discharged,
the whole charge entering St. Martin's body.
The muzzle was not over three feet from him —
I think not over two. The wadding entered,
as well as pieces of his clothing; his shirt took
fire; he feU, as we supposed, dead.
Dr. Beaumont, the surgeon of the fort, was
immediately sent for, and reached the wounded
man within a very short time— probably three
minutes. We had just got him on a cot and
were taking off some of his clothing.
After Dr. Beaumont had extracted part of
131

€f|e antoBiograjjfjp of

the shot, pieces of clothing, and dressed his
wound carefully — Robert Stewart and others
assisting — he left him, remarking, "The man
can't live thirty-six hours; I will come and see
him bye and bye." In two or three hours he
visited him again, expressing surprise at finding
him doing better than he anticipated.
The next day, I think, he resolved on a
course of treatment, and brought down his
instmments, getting out more shot and cloth
ing, cutting off ragged ends of the wound, and
made frequent visits, seeming very much
interested, informing Mr. Stewart in my pres
ence that he thought he could save him.
As soon as the man could be moved he was
taken to the fort hospital, where Dr. Beaumont
could give him better attention. About this
time, if I am not greatly mistaken, the doc
tor announced that he was treating his patient
with a view to experimenting on his stom
ach, being satisfied of his recovery. You know
the result.
I knew Dr. Beaumont very well. The
experiment of introducing food into the
stomach through the orifice purposely kept
open and healed with that object, was con
ceived by the doctor very soon after the first
examination. My duties in the assorting and packing
warehouse that summer gave me but Httle time
for recreation. In fact, until after six o'clock
in the evening, I had no time to myself, and
132

<{Buttion ^altoni^tan l^uBBacU
I frequently worked until midnight. Sunday
afternoon was the only time at which I felt
fully at leisure to visit my friends, and that was
passed either at Mrs. Fisher's, Mrs. La From-
boise's, Mrs. MitcheU's, Mr. Davenport's or
Mr. Dousman's, at any of which places I
was ever a welcome visitor. Thus was
completed the fourth year of my life as an
Indian trader.
Early in the fall I left Mackinaw in the
usual way for my fifth winter in the Indian
country. By request of Mr. Crooks we invited
a gentleman to accompany us, who desired to
visit Southern lUinois. He was a gentleman
of intelligence; in figure, taU and gaunt, and
possessed of one of those inquisitive minds
which ever denotes the genuine "Yankee."
He was continually asking questions and
wanting an explanation of everything he saw or
heard, and did not hesitate to pry into our pri
vate affairs and investigate our personal charac
teristics. He was exceedingly awkward in his
positions in the boat and camp, and could
never accustom himself to sitting "tailor
fashion." His Umbs and body were in a con
tinuous change of "sprawl," and at times
interfering with the motions of the oarsmen
and forcing an involuntary "sacre" from the
voyageurs, who were proverbial for poUteness
and natural grace. To them he became alter
nately an amusement and an annoyance, and as
he could not understand their language, numer-
133

-Cfjc ^ntoBio0rap]^p of

ous jokes were indulged in at his expense,
and he was nicknamed "La Beauts."
At one time we were caught in a wind-storm
which compelled us to land and draw our boats
up on the beach. On such occasions it was
customary for the men to carry the Bourgeois
ashore on their back. Our guest straddled the
shoulders of one of the men, who purposely
fell, taking care that his rider should fall under
him and become completely submerged, at the
same time exclaiming, "Mon Dieu, monsieur,
excusez moi," and quickly helping him to his
feet continued his apologies. Seeing our
friend completely drenched, the water dripping
from his clothing, and his hat fioating off on
the waves while the voyageur seemed so sincere
in his apologies, was too much for our silent
endurance, and we all broke out into peals of
laughter, in which our dripping passenger
heartily joined. His company was agreeable
to all save the voyageurs and he was always
invited to choose which boat he preferred to
ride in for the day.
Wc reached Calf River without any particu
lar incident, where we camped, and on the
following morning I invited our friend to walk
with me to the top of "Sleeping Bear," and
join the boats when they reached its base.
"Sleeping Bear" was a high bluff, six or eight
hundred feet above the lake. With the excep
tion of a small clump of trees, its top was a
naked plain of sand without vegetation of any
134

oBurtion ^alton^eitan l^uBBacti
kind. Its lake front was very steep, and it was
with great difficulty and exertion that it could
be ascended; the loose sand into which one
sank several inches at each step, slid downward
carrying one with it, so that progress was slow
and tedious. To walk down was impossible
unless one went backward, and in a stooping
posture. It was real sport to go down by
quick successive jumps, and fortunate was the
individual who could accomplish it without
losing his balance, falling over and roUing to
the bottom, where he arrived with mouth, nose,
and ears filled with the fine shifting sand,
though there was little or no danger of any
thing more serious.
We reached the summit, and after viewing
the lake and country, and our boats having
arrived at the base, I said to my friend, "We
must descend by jumps; take as long leaps as
you can, and don't stop; follow me"; and
with a loud "whoop" to attract the attention
of the boatmen, I went down by quick jumps,
but before reaching the bottom heard the
shouts of the voyageurs, and though I could
not look back, I knew full weU the cause.
When I had arrived at the bottom, I looked back
and saw my companion struggling and rolUng,
while the sand flew in every direction. He
landed close to my feet pale and frightened, but
otherwise unharmed. The men screamed with
laughter, much, as I thought, to the annoy
ance of our passenger, though he made no
«35

€l^e awtoBiograpFjp of

complaint, and having been bmshed off,
took his seat in the boat, and we proceeded on
our way.
This incident served for a standing joke,
and many times was the laughter renewed
when the ludicrous affair was again presented
to our minds. Although we had enjoyed our
selves so much at his expense, we learned to
like him for his many good qualities, and when
we parted with him at Peoria, it was with
many and sincere regrets.
Our trip was a tedious one, we being kept
many days in camp by heavy adverse winds.
We were nearly a month in reaching Chicago,
where, as usual, I was welcomed by my friends,
the Kinzies, who, with Dr. Wolcott, rendered
me many kind services.
At Chicago I found Pierre Chouteau, Jr.,
of St. Louis, whose acquaintance I had formed
several years before, and who now proposed
that I should enter their employ at the expira
tion of my engagement with the American
Fur Company; during my two weeks'
stay we became very intimate. The officers
of the fort were good companions, and I
passed much of my time with them, and
very pleasantly, and much regretted the time
of parting.
We encountered the usual trials and hard
ships between Chicago and Starved Rock, and
in due season arrived at Bureau Post, where I
had passed my first winter, and Mr. Beebeau
136

<2Burtion J^altott^n l^uBBarti
having died since our departure the previous
spring, I was placed in charge.
An opposition trader named Antoine Bour-
bonais, who was supplied with goods from St.
Louis, had located there. He was a large,
portly man, and for one of his years, was very
energetic, and was an old, experienced trader.
Mr. Deschamps told me of his virtues and fail
ings, wamed me of his tricks, and cautioned
me as to my intercourse with him. My old
Indian friends, Wa-ba and Shaub-e-nee, were
also here to welcome me.
It was late in the season when we arrived,
and Bourbonais had already been located for
more than a month, and in him I found a
strong competitor. He was possessed of a
"foxy" sharpness, was fond of his cups, and
when under their influence, inclined to be
quarrelsome. I was as friendly toward him as
could be expected, and while we treated each
other with respect, we watched each other
closely, each striving to supply the best hunt
ers with their winter outfits, and in this we
exercised all the secresy and strategy in
our power; but after the Indians had re
ceived their -suppUes and departed to their
hunting grounds,* our intercourse was very
friendly. The time soon arrived when we were to visit
the camps of the Indians in the interior and
endeavor to secure their furs, coUect the
amounts with which they had been credited,
137

€f)e 9lutoBio0capfip of

and sell to them the goods which we carried
with us. Bourbonais had five or six horses,
while I had none, which of course gave him a
great advantage, as he could pack his goods
onto the horses, and return with his furs in the
same manner, while I depended on the backs
of my men.
With a light load, my men could travel as
fast as the horses, that depended for their
subsistence on foraging on the half-dead g^ass
of the bottom lands.
To know when and where an expedition was
to go was very necessary, and every strategy
was resorted to, and considered perfectly fair,
to conceal these facts from each other. As a
consequence, we watched each other con
stantly, sometimes quarreled, though never
coming to blows, quickly becoming friendly
again, and frequently telling how one had out
witted the other in the course of trade. We
both had a laborious and exciting winter,
though neither cut the prices on leading
articles. At one time, I leamed from an Indian that
Bourbonais was packing up some bales of
goods, and we had noticed that he had gathered
his horses in from their feeding grounds osten
sibly to salt them, all of which led me to
suspect that an expedition was being fitted out,
and I detailed a man to watch. Just before
daylight, my man reported that two horses
were loaded with goods and another sad-
138

<6urtion ^alton^n I^uBBarii
died, which convinced me that Bourbonais
was himself going, as he usually rode, be
ing too clumsy to walk. To ascertain where
they were going, I hired an Indian, who hap
pened to be at my house, to follow at a dis
tance, pretending to hunt, until they should
leave the timber and take their course over
the prairie.
In the meanwhile, I prepared three bales of
goods, of twenty-five pounds each, and detailed
three of my men to carry them, giving Noel
Vasseur charge of the expedition, with instruc
tions to take the track and overtake Bourbo
nais that day, and, if possible, pass him
without being seen; but if unable to do that,
to camp with him for the night. The Indian
retuming, reported the course the expedition
had taken, and we then knew that they were
bound for one of two hunting bands, but which
one we could not tell.
Vasseur started with his men and soon came
In sight of Bourbonais and his party, but being
on the open prairie could not pass them with
out being noticed, and so decided to overtake
them by dark, and camp with or near them.
Bourbonais, finding his secret discovered, ex
tended his usual hospitality to Vasseur and
party, and after they had finished their sup
pers, offered them a dram, which was gladly
accepted. Vasseur and he chatted and drank,
until by daylight the old man was dead drunk.
Vasseur had gained a knowledge of their desti-
»39

€fjc ^uto6io0rapf>p of

nation, and with his companions started for
the Indian camps, knowing full well that Bour
bonais could not get sobered up and catch his
horses on the range in time to overtake them.
By hard marching Vasseur found the camp,
collected some of the debts, and bought all
the surplus furs and peltries by the time Bour
bonais reached the camp. The old man was
much mortified and angered when he discovered
how he had been outwitted, but soon got
over it, and together he and Vasseur, visited
the other band, collected their credits, and
returned home. In this manner the winter
was passed.
On Mr. Deschamps' retum he bought Bour
bonais' furs, engaged him in the service of the
American Fur Company, and he was afterwards
stationed at Kankakee, where he died. Mr.
Deschamps was well satisfied with the result
of my winter's trade, it being much better than
he had anticipated. The season had been an
unusually good one, and we had accumulated
more furs and peltries than our boats could
carry up the Dcsplaines River, and I was accord
ingly despatched with four boat loads to Chi
cago; these I stored with Mr. John Crafts,
and returned to the "brigade," when we aU
moved forward on our annual return to Macki
naw. A portion of our furs were shipped
from Chicago, for the first time, in a smaU
schooner which had brought suppUes for the
garrison. 140

<Dutbon .j^lton^n l^uBBarti

PA-PA-MA-TA-BE.— FROM ST. JOSEPH TO
THE KANKAKEE.— "HUBBARD'S TRAIL."
—UNDER THE ICE.— PEORIA AND ST.
LOUIS.
In the month of March (1823), I had occa
sion to go alone to see some Indians who were
camped at "Big Woods," on Fox River, in
Du Page County, west of Chicago.
After I had transacted my business with
them, and the evening before my return home,
an Indian who belonged to another band,
which was camped about ten miles distant,
came into the wigwam where I was, and said
he was going to my trading house. I gave
him some supper, and told him I should start
in the moming and that he could accompany
me, to which he assented. We started in the
moming as early as we could see to travel, and
found the ground soft and muddy, and the
walking hard and tedious, but I noticed that
my companion walked very fast. '
About noon he stopped to smoke, but hav
ing made up my mind that he wanted to race,
I kept on as fast as possible and got a long
distance ahead of him.
When I reached the Illinois River above
Hennepin, and opposite my trading house, I
discovered that the canoe which I had left there
had been stolen. The bottom lands were over
flowed from the river to the bluffs. I finally
got upon a log, and by puUing on the bushes
141

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and pushing with a stick, managed to propel
it to the bank of the river.
I shouted to my men, and waited a long
time for them to answer, but receiving no
response, I jumped in and swam across, reach
ing my house about darkf
The following morning I sent my men back
across the river to look for the Indian; they
found him with a party of others on horseback,
very much chagrined and disappointed at his
defeat. I then learned that the band which
I had visited had made a wager with the band
to which my companion of the day before
belonged that I could outwalk any one they
could produce, and they had planned the race
without intending that I should know of it.
The distance walked that day is seventy-five
miles, in a direct line, according to the pres
ent survey. I suffered no inconvenience
from it, though the Indian was very lame for a
day or so.
Some have doubted that I could have walked
so great a distance, but I was then young and
in my prime, and had long had the reputation
among the Indians of being a very rapid
traveler, and had, in consequence, been named
by them Pa-pa-ma-ta-be, "The Swift Walker."
It was a well-known fact, at that time, that
Pierre Le Claire, who carried the news of
the war of 1 8 12, was sent by Major Robert
Forsythe to his uncle, Mr. John Kinzie, at
Chicago, and that he walked from the mouth
142

<Durbmt ^alton^tall I^uBBarti
of St. Joseph River around Lake Michigan to
Chicago, a distance of ninety mUes, in one
continuous walk.
He arrived at Mr. Kinzie's, ate his supper,
and crossed over the river to report to the
officers of Fort Dearbom, before nine o'clock
at night, having started before daylight from
St. Joseph River.

We made our usual stay in Chicago, I
among my good friends, and without incident
worthy of note, arrived in due season at
Mackinaw. I was placed in entire charge of
the receiving of furs, assorting and packing
them for shipment. It was a full two months'
work, of hard, fatiguing duty. All the furred
skins, except muskrats and wolves, had each
to pass my inspection, and when examined,
all the finer, fancy furs, were to be assorted as
to shades of color, as well as to fineness of fur.
I was fumished with assistants who, after I had
assorted the furs, counted and delivered them
to the packers to press, tie, mark, and store,
ready for shipment, one hundred voyageurshcing
detailed for this duty. The roll was called regu
larly at six o'clock in the moming, and with the
exception of one hour's intermission at noon,
our labors were incessant until six at night.
After the day's labor was ended, I was
required to make up an account showing the
total of that day's work. The statement for
each outfit was kept separate on my packing-
143

€f|e ^utoBiograpfjp of

house book, from which it was drawn off by
myself or one of my assistants, and filed with
the book-keeper in the general office.
Complaints were frequently made that I
assorted too closely, and not unfrequently Mr.
Stewart would himself re-assort, with the
manager ofthe "brigade," who was interested
in making his returns appear as large as
possible, but usually my assorting was ap
proved. I made it an invariable rule never to
open and re-assort a pack.
The different outfits were required to fur
nish me a list of their packs, their contents, and
number of skins unassorted. One of my
assistants opened each pack and counted the
skins, and if found to be short it was his duty
to notify the chief of the "outfit" or his rep
resentative, who was usually present, in Order
that his count might be corrected, and my
returns when made agree with his, and errors
and dissatisfaction be thus prevented.
I was glad to reach the close of this summer's
duties. It was very fatiguing work to stoop
over and assort from morning until night. I
had no time for rest or recreation untU the
last skin was in pack ready for shipment.
The packs were very neatly put up in frames,
nearly square in form, and intended to weigh
about one hundred pounds each. It required
much practice before the men selected for that
purpose became experts. The skins must be
placed in proper positions, evenly distributed,
144

<Dtu:tion ^alton^^taH I^uBBarb
so as to make the pack press equally, the ends
built up straight, so as to show no depressions
or elongations, and a failure in either of these
particulars necessitated repacking.
The different kinds of skins were packed in
different ways, each kind having its own pecu
liar manner of folding, while all packs were
required to be of the same size; and when
taken from the press, they resembled huge
reams of paper, so even and uniform were the
ends and sides. We used screw presses,
worked by hand, and if a pack came from the
press without filling all the requirements, it
was repacked and repressed. Each pack was
then numbered, and an invoice of its contents
made, which received the same number.
Adjoining the warehouse was a large yard,
into which the packs were received when
brought from the Indian country and in which
they were opened. Each skin was thoroughly
beaten to rid it of bugs and dust, and if damp
it was dried, and then carried into the ware
house for assorting, counting, and packing.
About the middle of August my work was
completed, and I was at liberty to use my time
as I chose. I employed it in visiting my
friends, and thus improved it to the last .mo
ment. Again we were ready to depart on our
monotonous lake voyage, coasting as usual
the east shore of Lake Michigan, and meeting
with no incident worthy of mention until we
reached St. Joseph, where we were detained
145

€]^e ^utoBiojraplip of

for several days by head winds. My destina
tion had been decided by Mr. Deschamps to
be the Iroquois country. We knew that it
was but a short distance from a bend of the
St. Joseph River to the Kankakee River, and
I determined to endeavor to pass my boats and
goods overland to the Kankakee, and thus
save the remainder of the journey to Chicago,
as weU as the delays and hardships of the old
route through Mud Lake and the Desplaines.
From Mr. Burnett, who lived a little more
than a mile from where we were then camped,
I learned that the Indians near Bartrand trad
ing house had ponies on which my goods could
be packed, and he thought the Indians would
also undertake to pass my boats across, sug
gesting that by hitching the tails of the ponies
to the boats they could be made to help con
siderably. Having concluded a favorable arrangement
with the Indians, I undertook the venture,
teUing Mr. Deschamps that if I failed, I would
retum and overtake him at Chicago.
I selected my men, among them being Noel
Vasseur, in whom I had the utmost confidence,
wrote a letter to my good friends, the Kinzies,
telling them of the change in my plans, and
that I would visit them after I got settled in
my winter quarters. I sent also to Mr. Kinzie
my best clothes for safe keeping.
Everything being in readiness, I started
early on the foUowing morning, and soon passed
146

<aurtion J>aItonje^:an i^uBBacb
an old Jesuit mission, afterwards occupied by
Mr. Coy. We halted a short time at Bar
trand 's, and from him I received full informa
tion about the Kankakee River, and he tendered
me every assistance in his power in making the
crossing. Proceeding to the place of leaving
the St. Joseph I met the Indians with their
ponies, and following the suggestion of Mr.
Burnett, cut poles and lashed them across the
boats, which had been unloaded, at the bow
and stem. We then wove and tied the ponies'
tails securely to the poles at the stem, and
tied their heads to the ones at the bow. In
order that the boats might move more easily,
we placed rollers under them, and then the
Indians and squaws commenced urging the
ponies forward. For some time they were
awkward and stubborn, some would pull, while
others would not, but by patience and perse
verance, the men also pulling, we finaUy got
them started and advanced for a hundred or
more yards, when the ponies came to a dead
stand. We again applied the roUers and the
muscles of the men, and succeeded in making
another start, and the ponies becoming accus
tomed to the work, soon got so they would
make a quarter of a mUe at a stretch, and in
this manner we passed our boats over and
launched them into the Kankakee. Repack
ing our goods and loading them into the boats,
we were soon ready to embark. We found
the Kankakee narrow and crooked, with suffi-
U7

€fje iautoBiograpfjp of

cient water to float our boats, but with very
little current.
Our progress under oars was at the rate of
fifty or sixty mUes a day, and we met with no
obstacles until we reached the upper rapids
or shoals, where the viUage of Momence is
now located.
From that point, shaUow water continued
at intervals until we reached the mouth of the
Iroquois Rivur, which river we ascended to a
trading house, located a short distance below
the present village of Watseka, which was our
destination. The Messrs. Ewing, then of Fort Wayne,
had a trading house further up the river, and
opposite the present village of Iroquois. This
house was in charge of one Chabare, and it
was for the purpose of opposing him that I
had been detailed. Our house was soon put
in a habitable condition, and my first leaving
it was for the purpose of visiting Mr. Chabare,
with whom, during the entire winter, I con
tinued on friendly relations.
Having made friends with the Indians, to
whom I gave liberal credits, and having noted
where they severally intended making their
hunting camps, I slipped away for a week's
visit to Chicago, principally to see my good
friends the Kinzies, having as usual a very
agreeable visit, and promising to retum at
Christmas time, which, however, I was pre
vented from doing. 148

aDucbon ^altonie^tan I^uBBarti
In the spring I had but a handful of goods
left, and the result of my winter's business
was quite satisfactory to both Mr. Deschamps
and the managers of the Company at Mackinaw.
Before Mr. Deschamps' arrival I abandoned
my post and went to Chicago, there to await
him and the brigade. It was about a month
before they came, at which delay I was well
pleased, as I passed my time with the family
of Mr. Kinzie, who, with Dr. Wolcott and the
officers of the fort, made my visit very
pleasant. I much regretted leaving, and re
luctantly parted from my friends, uncertain
whether I should ever see them again, as my
term of service was about expiring.
I had not settled in my mind what was my
duty and interest. My inclination led me to
my mother, who was stmggling to support her
four young daughters. My young brother
Christopher had obtained a position in the
hardware store of Henry King, in New York,
but was receiving only his board for his ser
vices. In my uncertainty what course to pursue I
resorted, as was my custom, to Mr. Kinzie for
advice, and also consulted the Indian agent,
Dr. Wolcott, who was from Middletown,
Conn. , and knew my mother weU. It was now
five years since I parted from my loving Chris
tian mother and my sisters and brother, and
I was just reaching my majority, with no
knowledge of the world outside of the wilder-
149

€(ie ^utoBio0capI)p of

ness, and with no business experience, except
ing in the fur trade. For the past five years
I had had no opportunity to improve my mind
by intercourse with refined society excepting
during the short time I had passed in Chicago
and Mackinaw, and while at the latter place,
more than one-half of my time was devoted to
hard labor. In my boyhood days I had no
love for books or study and now that I felt the
need of improving my mind, I could find no
opportunity to do so. For the past year I
had felt more than ever the waste of my life
and the mortification my ignorance caused me.
Messrs. Kinzie and Wolcott strongly advised
me to remain in the only business for which I
was fitted, and to forego the pleasure of seeing
my mother and sisters. They advised me to
remit my earnings and remain in the Indian
trade under some favorable arrangement with
the American Fur Company; or, if not with
them, with Mr. Chouteau of St. Louis, who was
ready to give me employment at a good salary.
To abandon a business that had cost me five
years to learn, under so many privations and
exposures, for some other uncertain vocation,
to fit me for which would consume valuable
time, seemed to them very inadvisable.
"Demand," they said, "of the Fur Company
a fair consideration for your abUities, and if
they refuse to give it, then you have Mr.
Chouteau to fall back upon; and if both fail,
you are well-enough known to get credit for
150

oButtion .^altonjeetail l^uBBacti
an outfit and take chances on your own
account." I knew these gentlemen were among my
best friends, were disinterested in their advice,
and knew better than I did the estimation in
which Messrs. Ramsay and Crooks held me.
Our coasting voyage gave me ample time to
ponder over my situation and determine the
course to pursue. I had a great desire to go
home, if only for a short visit. I had less than
one hundred dollars due me, had no respect
able clothing; my best coat was the same one
provided for me when I left Montreal. It
was not threadbare, and would have looked
quite well on me, had the fashion been for but
tons half way up the back and sleeves short
and tight. Five years before, it looked on me
as though it was my father's; now it looked
like a half-grown boy's. To have fitted
myself out in a manner to be presentable to
the society of Middletown would have cost all
my accumulated funds. I was forced after
due consideration to forego the pleasure of
seeing those dear to me, and before reaching
Mackinaw I had concluded to remain west^ —
where to be decided when I saw Mr. Crooks.
I felt certain of a good position in the employ
of the Chouteaus at St. Louis in case Mr.
Crooks' terms were not satisfactory. When I
reached Mackinaw I was a free man with more
than ninety dollars to my credit on the books
of the company. 151

€]^c ^utoBiograpBP of

Mr. Crooks desired me to again take charge
of packing the furs, which I consented to do
without any stipulation as to price, but on the
condition that I should be at liberty to quit at
any time by giving a few days' notice; this
enabled me to send eighty dollars of my' earn
ings to my mother. As I was at work earning
wages I did not hesitate to get from the' retail
store, then in charge of John H. Kinzie, such
goods and clothing as I desired.
In about a month a schooner arrived from
Cleveland loaded with corn, tallow, and other
provisions for the use of the Company. She
was to take to Buffalo a cargo of furs, which
were ready packed for shipment.
I had been negotiating for a re-engagement,
but had declined the offer made by the man
agers and had demanded a larger salary,
which had been refused. The morning after
the arrival of the schooner I surprised Mr.
Stewart by asking him to fill my place, as I
had decided to take passage on the schooner
for Buffalo, and requested him to fix my allow
ance, that I might settle my account at the
store. I hoped that I should have enough
left to take me east, and added that perhaps
Mr. Astor would give me employment in the
fur store in New York.
Mr. Stewart seemed much surprised, and
said that he thought it was settled that I should
remain in the employ of the Company. I
replied, "No, sir; I consider my services worth
152

<^uct)on ^altonjS^H l^uBBacti
more than you and Mr. Crooks offer me;
hence I intend to leave you." Before the
departure of the schooner, however, they
accepted my offer, and I engaged with the
Company for another year. I shipped a por
tion of my goods to Chicago by a vessel bound
there, and thus reduced the number of boats
in the brigade to five.
1824.— PLACED IN CHARGE OF THE ILLI
NOIS RIVER TRADING POSTS.
Mr. Deschamps, having become old and
worn by long continued service and the hard
ships to which he had been exposed, resigned
his position as Superintendent of the IlUnois
River Trading Posts of the American Fur
Company, and on his recommendation I was
appointed to succeed him. I now determined
to carry out a project which I had long urged
upon jMr. Deschamps, but without success —
that of unloading the boats upon their arrival
at Chicago from Mackinaw, and scuttling them
in the slough, to prevent their loss by prairie
fires, until they were needed to reload with
furs for the retum voyage.
The goods and furs I proposed to transport
to and from the Indian hunting grounds on
pack horses. In this manner the long, tedious,
and difficult passage through Mud Lake, into
and down the Desplaines River, would be
avoided, and the goods taken directly to the
153

€fje ^utoBiogcapIip of

Indians at their hunting grounds, instead of
having to be carried in packs on the backs of
the men. During the year 1822, I had estab
lished a direct path or track from Iroquois
post to Danville, and I now extended it south
from Danville and north to Chicago, thus
fully opening "Hubbard's TraU" from Chi
cago to a point about one hundred and fifty
miles south of Danville. Along this "trail" I
established trading posts forty to fifty miles
apart. This "traU" became the regularly
traveled route between Chicago and Danville
and points beyond, and was designated on the
old maps as "Hubbard's Trail."*
In the winter of 1833-34 the General Assem
bly ordered that a State road be located from
Vincennes to Chicago, and that mUe-stones be
placed thereon, and from Danville to Chicago
the Commissioners adopted my "trail" most
of the way, because it was the! most direct
route and on the most favorable ground.
Through constant use by horses, ponies, and
* Note.— "Hubbard's Trail" ran through Cook,
Will, Kankakee, Iroquois, and Vermilion Counties,
passing the present towns of Blue Island, Home-
wood, Bloom, Crete, Grant, Momence, Beaverville,
Iroquois, Hoopeston, and Myersville to Danville,
and southwest through Vermilion and Champaign
Counties to Bement m Piatt County; thence south
through Moultrie and Shelby Counties to Blue Point
in Effingham County. At Crete, a fence has been
built around a portion of this " trail," to further pre
serve it as an old landmark and a relic of early roads
and :arly times. 154

oButtion ^altott^tan I^uBBarti
men, the path became wom so deeply into the
ground that when I last visited the vicinity of
my old Iroquois post (now called Bunkum), in
the fall of 1880, traces of it were stiU visible,
and my grand nephew, a little lad of fourteen
years, who accompanied me on the trip, jumped
out of the carriage and ran some distance in
the trail where I had walked fifty-eight years
before. 1825.
The winter of 1825 I passed at my Iroquois
post. The hunting had been unusually good,
and large quantities of goods were sold and
many fine furs collected.
In the spring, Mr. John Kinzie got out of
goods at Chicago, and sent a Mr. HaU to me
to request me to go to St. Louis by boat for
a supply. Mr. Hall was to remain and man
age my business during my absence. Neither
Mr. Kinzie nor myself had a boat suitable for
the journey, but he thought I could arrange
for one. Mr. Hamlin, of Peoria, had a boat
which was well adapted to the purpose, and I
decided to send Vasseur and Portier to Peoria to
engage the boat and prepare it for the joumey,
while I should go to Chicago, see Mr. Kinzie,
and leam from him what goods were required.
The water was very high, and all the rivers
and streams had overflowed their banks. Por
tier could not swim, and both men were afraid
and refused to go. I assured them they would
155

€Iie ^utoBio0rapl)p of

not need to swim, as they could head all the
streams on the route; while, on the way to
Chicago, I should be compelled to cross the
streams, and probably to swim them. I fur
ther told them that if they refused to go, I
should dock their wages and discharge them.
In the morning, having thought the matter
over and becoming ashamed of their refusal,
they announced themselves as ready to start,
and did so as soon as they had eaten their
breakfasts. This was the first and only time
they ever refused to obey my orders.
I thought I could go on horseback to the
mouth of the Iroquois and there swim the
Kankakee, and as two Indians were bound for
that point, I decided to accompany them. It
had frozen during the night, and the morning
was very cold. We progressed very pleasantly
untU we reached a small stream on the prairie
which had overflowed its banks, and upon
which a new covering of ice had formed during
the night, leaving running water between the
two coverings of ice. The upper ice was not
strong enough for a man to walk on, but the
Indians laid down and slid themselves across
with little difficulty. I rode my horse to the
stream, and reaching forward with my toma
hawk broke the ice ahead of him, he walking
op the under ice until he reached the middle of
the stream, when his hind feet broke through,
the girth gave away, and the saddle slipped off
behind carrying me with it. I feU into the water
156

<6ui:Bon J^Iton^Q l^uBBarti
and was carried by the current rapidly down the
stream between the upper and lower coverings
of ice. I made two attempts to gain my feet,
but the current was so swift and the space so
narrow I could not break through the ice.
I had about given up all hope, when my hand
stmck a wUlow bush near the bank and thus
arrested my rapid progress. At the same
time I stood up and bumping the ice with my
head broke through. The Indians were much
astonished to see me come up through the ice,
and gave utterance to their surprise by a pecu
liar exclamation. I recovered my horse and
saddle and retumed to my trading house, with
no worse result than wet clothing and a slightly
bruised head.
I had just completed a small blackwalnut
canoe,. and with this, and my man Jombeau to
assist me, I went to the dividing ridge, near
where the city of Kankakee now stands. The
canoe was small and would barely hold us both,
but we paddled safely down the Iroquois, and
the following day arrived at Kankakee; there
we left the canoe and started for Chicago on
foot. It was a warm, thawing day, and I
could scarcely see on account of the mist. I
had walked a long time and thought I was on
my "traU" and near Blue Island, when I heard
a gun, and soon after found an Indian, who
had shot a muskrat. This I got from him, and
it was aU Jombeau and I had to eat that day
and the foUowing one. 157

€f>e ^utoBio0rapl)p of

The Indian asked where I was going, and
when I told him to Chicago, he surprised us
by saying that we were going the wrong way.
We had become completely tumed around,
and were then only about two miles from
"Yellow Head Point." We camped that
night on the bank of a creek, near where Miller's
stock-farm is now located. On the third day
I reached Chicago, reported to Mr. Kinzie,
and found that he had started two men in a
canoe to meet me at Peoria with a list of the
goods required.
The day following I started in another canoe
with an old Frenchman for Peoria, and we got
along without trouble until we reached Peoria
Lake. The wind being fair, I made a small
mast and hoisted a blanket for a sail; but the
wind being quite strong, the canoe suddenly
upset when about a half-mile from shore. My
companion was terribly frightened, but I made
him cling to the boat, and soon got him safely
to land. We were three days in making the
trip to Peoria. My men had arrived, and the
boat was aU prepared for the trip to St. Louis.
They had become much alarmed about me,
thinking I was drowned, and were greatly
rejoiced at my arrival. The next day we
started for St. Louis, where we arrived in due
season and without incident worthy of notice.
I bought my goods, delivered them at Chicago,
and returned as quickly as possible to my post
at Iroquois. 158

<(Buttion ^aIton$?tan I^uBBarti
We were in a state of semi-starvation this
spring, being compelled to live almost entirely
on corn. My men were busy splitting rails to
fence in a patch of ground for a garden, in
which I hoped to raise vegetables for the follow
ing winter's consumption. Meat was much
desired, but hard to procure.
I had a large domestic cat that enjoyed the
freedom of the house and store, and upon pack
ing my winter's collection of furs for transpor
tation to Chicago, I discovered that the cat had
gnawed the ends of some of them, where meat
had been left in skinning. I was very much
vexed at the discovery. Looking up I saw the
cat sitting in the store window, and taking my
rifle, shot him. He feU inside, and crawled
behind a bale of cloth, where he remained untU I
removed the goods, when I found and killed
him. I took him out and gave him to the
Indian cook, telling him that the skin would
make him a nice tobacco pouch. Just before
dinner time I went out again and asked the
cook what he had done with the cat.- He
answered me by pointing to the kettle in which
the com soup was cooking for the men's din
ner. I laughed, but said nothing.
When the men came in and smelled the
savory stew they were greatly pleased at the
thought of having meat for dinner. They
were always in the habit of selecting the
choicest bits of meat and sending them to me,
and they did not forget me on this occasion;
159

/^t ^utoBiograpljp of

but I declined to eat, telling them I did not
care for it, and that they could eat all of it.
They ate it with g^eat relish, and after they
had finished their dinner, I asked them if they
knew what they had eaten. They said "yes,
wildcat," and were greatly astonished when I
told them they had devoured our old tom cat.
One of them said it made no difference, it was
good; the other thought differently, and tried
hard to rid himself of what he had eaten by
thrusting his finger down his throat, but with
out success; the old cat would not come up.
TROUBLE WITH YELLOW HEAD. — DAN
VILLE. — " WINNEBAGO SCARE." — IN
THE OHIO RIVER. — KA-NE-KUCK.
I had now been in the employ of the Ameri
can Fur Company for more than seven years,
and for the two years after the expiration of
my original five years' contract, I had received
the very liberal salary of thirteen hundred dol
lars per year. Being, however, dissatisfied
with that amount, I had determined to leave
its employ, when the Company offered me an
interest as a special partner, which offer I
gladly accepted. My labors were no lighter;
in fact, the responsibility seemed greater, and
I worked harder than ever, realizing that on
my own efforts and success depended the
amount of compensation I should receive.
My headquarters for the winter were at
i6o

4Buttion ^ItottjE^n i^uBBatti
Iroquois post, though I made frequent excur
sions to other points, and was very often in
Chicago. One cold day in March, 1827, I went to
Beaver Creek Lake for a hunt. This was a
part of the great Kankakee marsh, and geese,
ducks, and swan were very abundant. The
fall previous I had hidden a canoe in the
vicinity of the lake and about thirteen miles
from my trading house, and this I found with
little difficulty. I hunted until nearly dark,
when, thinking it too late to return home, I
camped for the night on a smaU island in the
lake. There were no trees, but I made a fire
with driftwood, and having cooked some game
for my supper, lay down and soon fell asleep.
Some time in the night I awoke in great pain,
and found that my fire had nearly gone out.
I managed to replenish it, but the pain con
tinued, being most severe in my legs, and by
moming it increased to such an extent that I
could not reach my canoe. About ten o'clock
an Indian came down the lake and I caUedhim
and told him of my condition, and with his
assistance reached the canoe, and finally the
main shore. I sent the Indian to Iroquois
with orders for my men to come and brinjj
with them a horse and hamess. On their
arrival I had the horse hitched to the canoe
and myself placed therein, and started in this
manner to ride home. I soon found that I
could not stand the jarring of the canoe as it
161

€I|e 2lutoBiograpl^p of

was drawn over the rough ground, and halted
untU some better means of travel could be
devised. I sent back to Iroquois for two more
men, which necessitated my camping for
another night. On their arrival they constmct
ed, with poles and blankets, a litter upon
which they bore me safely and quite com
fortably home.
I had a severe attack of inflammatory rheu
matism, which confined me to the house for
three or four weeks, and from which I did
not fully recover for eighteen months. I doc
tored myself with poultices of elm and decoc
tions of various herbs.
About six weeks after my attack of rheuma
tism I prepared to abandon my trading house
on the Iroquois and remove to Chicago, but
was compelled to wait for a band of Indians
who owed me for goods and who had not yet
returned from their winter hunting grounds.
While thus delayed two white men appeared
with a pair of horses and a wagon loaded with
corn, commeal, and whisky. Hearing that I
was waiting for the Indians, they decided to
wait also and trade them whisky for furs,
blankets, or anything else of value which the
Indians might possess. I was unable to walk
without cmtches, and scarcely able to leave
my bunk. I knew that if the Indians were
allowed to have the whisky, trouble would
ensue, so I sent Noel Vasseur to their camp
to ask one of the men to come and see mc.
162

<Durtion ^{ton^itafl i^uBBarti
He soon came, and I told him I did not like
to have him sell whisky to the Indians, and
that he had no right to do so, as he had no
license from the Govemment to trade with
Indians. He replied that he had as much
right to trade as I had, and that he should do
as he pleased. I wamed him that the Indians
woiUd become dmnk, and would then rob,
and probably murder them, but he refused to
Usten to me, and returned to his camp.
I immediately stationed men to watch for
the coming of the Indians, and was soon
informed that YeUow Head and his band were
at hand. When they arrived, I had a large
kettle of com soup and other food ready for
them, and as soon as they had eaten, I took
them into my council room, traded for their
furs, collected what they owed me, and after
giving each one a gUl of whisky, dismissed
them before the strangers had learned of their
arrival. The Indians soon discovered the
camp of the two men and commenced trading
their blankets and the goods they had just
bought from me for whisky. I sent word to
the men to leave, and told them that as soon
as the Indians got dmnk they would rob them
of all they had sold them, but they would not
heed the message.
As I had anticipated, the Indians soon
became dmnk, and angry because they had
nothing more to trade and could get no more
to 'drirSc, and began to take back their blankets
163

€f>e ^utoBiograpJjp of

and goods. The white men became very
much frightened, and came to me for assist
ance. I refused to interfere, but sent Vasseur
and Jacques Jombeau to empty the remaining
kegs of whisky, which they did. The Indians
scooped up the whisky with their hands, and
became more and more enraged, and finally
assaulted Jombeau, and stabbed him in the
back, though not severely. The Indians got
back aU they had sold, and the white men made
their escape with the horses and wagon. The
disturbance lasted aU night.
The Indians came to my house and demand
ed more whisky, and were, of course, refused.
They all laid down and feU asleep, except Yel
low Head (a brother-in-law of Billy Caldwell),
who came several times to me, coaxing and
threatening me, but to no purpose. He finally
said he would go to my store, break in and
take as much as he wanted. I said, "Very
well, go on," and he started for the store
house. I g;ot up from my bunk, took my rifle
and thrust it through the paper which served
for window glass, and as he reached the store,
I "drew a bead on him," and called to him to
go on and break in. He changed his mind
and walked away.
I again laid down, and in a few minutes he
returned very angry, and walking up to my
bunk drew a knife and attempted to stab me;
but I was too quick for him, seized his arm,
and lame as I was, jumped up, took the knife
164

<{Burtion ^altoiti^taH l^uBBactx
away, and pushed him out of the door, where I
found some squaws who had been attracted
by the disturbance. Outside the door was a
large mortar with a heavy iron-wood pestle,
which I used for pounding com. I gave the
knife to a squaw, and leaned on one cmtch
against the mortar with my hand on the pestle.
Yellow Head felt in his leggins for another
knife, when I said to the squaw, "Give the
old woman a knife." She did so, but Yellow
Head, looking at the pestle upon which my
hand rested, and doubtless remembering the
sudden manner in which I had before dis
armed him, deemed "discretion the better
part of valor," and silently departed with the
squaws. The day foUowing I started for Chicago,
leaving one of my men, Dominick Bray by
name, in charge of the place, and to make a
garden and plant vegetables for the following
winter's use. Two or three days after my
arrival in Chicago, Bray appeared with the
story that Yellow Head had returned for re
venge. Bray was lying in his bunk, when
Yellow Head and two other Indians entered
the house and leveled their rifles at him. He
jumped up and ran by them out of the door,
pulling it shut just as they fired, and the bullets
stmck the door through which he had escaped.
Bray ran into the woods, caught a horse, and
left for Chicago. The Indians piUaged the
house and store, taking everything that had
16$

€|je ^utoBtograjpBP of

been left. Other Indians warned' me that
Yellow Head intended to kill me should he
ever meet me again, but before my retum to
the Iroquois, he was killed in a drunken fight,
and thus I was saved from further trouble
with him.
I had already located at Danville, where I
intended in the future to make my general
headquarters, and a portion of the spring and
summer of this year was spent at that place.
Danville had become quite a settlement, and I
had a number of pleasant acquaintances there.
Mr. Kinzie having resigned his position as
Indian trader at Chicago, I made application
for the place, which, however, I did not receive.
I made my annual trip to Mackinaw, arriving
there in the month of August, and before my
return made a new arrangement with the Fur
Company, by Which I bought out its entire in
terests in Illinois. Business was very poor
during the year 1827, and in the spring of 1828
I built a store at Danville, and permanently
established my headquarters there.
WINNEBAGO SCARE.*
At the breaking out of the Winnebago war,
early in July, 1827, Fort Dearborn was without
military occupation.
Doctor Alexander Wolcott, Indian agent,
?From statements by Mr. Hubbard in Chicago
Historical Series, No. IQ. 166

oBurtion ^tton^E I^uBBacti
had charge of the fort, living in the brick
building, just within the north stockade, pre
viously occupied by the commanding officers.
The old officers' quarters, built of logs, on the
west, and within the pickets, were occupied by
Russell E. Heacock and one other American
family, while a number of voyageurs with their
families were living in the soldiers' quarters on
the east side of the inclosure.
The annual payment of the Pottawatomie
Indians occurred in September of the year 1 82 8 .
A large body of them had assembled, according
to custom, to receive their annuity. These
left after the payment for their respective
viUages, except a portion of Big Foot's band.
The night foUowing the payment, there was
a dance in the soldiers' barracks, during the
progress of which a violent storm of wind and
rain arose; and about midnight these quarters
were struck by lightning and totally consumed,
together with the storehouse and a portion of
the guard-house.
The sleeping inmates of Mr. Kinzie's house,
on the opposite bank of the river, were aroused
by the cry of "fire," from Mrs. Helm, one
of their number, who, from her window, had
seen the flames. On hearing the alarm I, with
Robert Kinzie, hastily arose, and, only partially
dressed, ran to the river. To our dismay, we
found the canoe, which was used for crossing
the river, filled with water; it had been par
tially dra\(rn up on the beach and became fiUed
167

€fie ^ittoBtograpljp of

by the dashing of the waves. Not being able
to tum it over, and having nothing with which
to bail it out, we lost no time, but swam the
stream. Entering by the north gate we saw
at a glance the situation. The barracks and
storehouse being wrapped in flames, we direct
ed our energies to the saving of the guard
house, the east end of which was on fire. Mr.
Kinzie, roUing himself in a wet blanket, got
upon the roof. The men and women, about
forty in number, formed a line to the river,
and with buckets, tubs, and every available
utensil, passed the water to him; this was kept
up tiU daylight before the flames were sub
dued, Mr. Kinzie maintaining his dangerous
position with great fortitude, though his hands,
face, and portions of his body were severely
burned. His father, mother, and sister, Mrs.
Helm, had meanwhUe freed the canoe from
water, and crossing in it, feU into line with those
carrying water.
Some of the Big Foot band of Indians were
present at the fire, but merely as spectators,
and could not be prevailed upon to assist; they
all left the next day for their homes. The
strangeness of their behavior was the subject
of discussion among us.
Six or eight days after this event, while at
breakfast in Mr. Kinzie's house, we heard
singing, faintly at first, but gradually growing
louder as the singers approached. Mr. Kinzie
recognized the leading voice as that of Bob
i68

iiBurtiott ^alton^taH i^uBBatli
Forsyth, and left the table for the piazza of the
house, where we aU followed. About where
Wells street now crosses the river, in plain sight
from where we stood, was a light birch-bark
canoe, manned with thirteen men, rapidly
approaching, the men keeping time with their
paddles to one of the Canadian boat songs;
it proved to be Govemor Cass and his secre
tary, Robert Forsyth, and they landed and
soon joined us. From them we first leamed
of the breaking out of the Winnebago war,
and the massacre on the Upper Mississippi.
Governor Cass was at Green Bay by appoint
ment, to hold a treaty with the Winnebagoes
and Menomonee tribes, who, however, did
not appear to meet him in councU. News
of hostilities reaching the Govemor there,
he immediately procured a light birch bark
canoe, purposely made for speed, manned
it with twelve men at the paddles and a
steersman, and started up the river, making
a portage into the Wisconsin, then down it
and the Mississippi to Jefferson Barracks
below St. Louis.
Here he persuaded the commanding officer
to charter a steamer, and embarking troops on
it, ascended the Mississippi in search of the
hostile Indians, and to give aid to the troops
at Fort SneUing. On reaching the mouth of
the lUinois River, the Governor (with his men
and canoe, having been brought so far on the
steamer), here left it, and ascending that stream
169

€i)e ^tttoBtO0ra]p{)p of

and the Desplaines, passed through Mud Lake
into the South Branch of the Chicago River,
thus reaching Chicago. This trip from Green
Bay, was performed in about thirteen days,
the Governor's party sleeping only five to
seven hours, and averaging sixty to seventy
miles travel each day. On the Wisconsin
River they passed Winnebago encampments
without molestation. They did not stop to
parley, passing rapidly by, singing their boat
songs; the Indians were so taken by surprise
that before they recovered from their astonish
ment, the canoe was out of danger. Governor
Cass remained at Chicago but a few hours,
coasting Lake Michigan back to Green Bay.
As soon as he left, the inhabitants of Chicago
assembled for consultation. Big Foot was sus
pected of acting in concert with the Winneba
goes, as he was known to be friendly to them,
and many of his band had intermarried with
that tribe.
Shaub-e-nee was not here at the payment,
his money having been drawn for him by his
friend, Billy Caldwell. The evening before
Governor Cass' visit, however, he was in Chi
cago, and then the guest of CaldweU. At my
suggestion he and Caldwell were engaged to
visit Big Foot's village (Geneva Lake), and get
what information they could of the plans of
the Winnebagoes, and. also leam what action
Big Foot's band intended taking. They left
immediately, and on nearing Geneva Lake,
170

<Burtioti ^aftomtftan J^uBBarti
arranged that Shaub-e-nee should enter the
viUage alone, Caldwell remaining hidden.
Upon entering the vUlage Shaub-e-nee was
made a prisoner, and accused of being a friend
of the Americans, and a spy. He affected
great indignation at these charges, and said to
Big Foot: "I was not at the payment, but was
told by my braves that you desired us to join
the Winnebagoes and make war on the Ameri
cans. I think the Winnebagoes have been
foolish; alone they cannot succeed. So I have
come to council with you, hear what you have
to say, when I wiU retum to my people and
report all you tell me; if they shall then say
we wiU join you, I wiU consent." After talk
ing nearly all night they agreed to let him go,
provided he was accompanied by one of their
own number; to this proposal Shaub-e-nee
readily consented, though it placed him in a
dangerous position. His friend Caldwell was
waiting for him in the outskirts of the viUage
and his presence must not be known, as it
would endanger both of their lives. Shaub-e-
nee was equal to the emergency. After leaving
in company with one of Big Foot's braves, as
the place of CaldweU's concealment was neared,
he commenced complaining in a loud voice of
being suspected and made a prisoner, and when
quite near, said, "We must have no one with
us in going to Chicago.- Should we meet any
one of your band or any one else, we must
teU them to go away; we must go by our-
171

€1^0 ^utoBtograpl^p of

selves, and get to Chicago by noon to-morrow.
Kinzie will give us something to eat and we
can go on next day."
Caldwell heard and understood the meaning
of this, and started alone by another route.
Strategy was stUl to be used, as Shaub-e-nee
desired to report; so, on nearing Chicago he
said to his companion, "If Kinzie sees you, he
will ask why your band did not assist in put
ting out the fire. Maybe he has heard news
of the war and is angry with Big Foot; let us
camp here, for our horses are very tired.
This they did, and after a little the Big Foot
brave suggested that Shaub-e-nee should go to
the fort for food and information. This was
what he wanted to do, and he lost no time in
reporting the result of his expedition, and pro
curing food retumed to his camp. Starting
the next moming with his companion for his
own village; on reaching it he called a council
of his Indians, who were addressed by Big
Foot's emissary; but they decUned to take
part with the Winnebagoes, advising Big Foot
to remain neutral.
On receiving Shaub-e-nee 's report, the
inhabitants of Chicago were greatly excited.
Fearing an attack, we assembled for consulta
tion, when I suggested sending to the Wabash
for assistance, and tendered my services as
messenger. This was at first objected to, on
the ground that a majority of the men at the
fort were in my employ, and in case of an
172

oBurtion ^alton$?ta0 l^uBBatti

attack, no one could manage them or enforce
their aid but myself. It was, however, decided
that I should go, as I knew the route and all
the settlers. An attack would probably not
be made untU Big Foot's embassador had
retumed with his report; this would give at
least two weeks' security, and in that time I
could, if successful, make the trip and retum.
I started between four and five, o'clock in the
aftemoon, reaching my trading house on the
Iroquois River by midnight, where I changed
my horse and went on; it was a dark, rainy
night. On reaching Sugar Creek I found the
stream swollen out of its banks, and my horse
refusing to cross, I was obliged to wait till
daylight, when I discovered that a large tree
had fallen across the trail, making the ford
impassable. I swam the stream and went on,
reaching my friend Mr. Spencer's house at
noon, tired out. Mr. Spencer started imme
diately to give the alarm, asking for volunteers
to meet at DanviUe the next evening, with five
days' rations. By the day following at the
hour appointed, one hundred men were organ
ized into a company, and appointing a Mr.
Morgan, an old frontier fighter, as their cap
tain, immediately started for Chicago, camping
that night on the north fork of the Vermilion
River. It rained continually, the trail was
very muddy, and we were obliged to swim
most of the streams and many of the large
sloughs, but we stiU pushed on, reaching Fort
173

€|>e 9lutoBiogra})]^p of

Dearbom the seventh day after my departure,
to the great joy of the waiting people.
We re-organized, and had a force of about
one hundred and fifty men, Morgan command
ing. At the end of thirty days, news came of
the defeat of the Winnebagoes, and of their
treaty with the commanding officer, who went
from Jefferson Barracks, as before stated.
Upon hearing this, Morgan disbanded his com
pany, who returned to their homes, leaving
Fort Dearborn in charge of the Indian agent
as before.
Note.— Extract from a letter written by Mr.
Hubbard to his sister Elizabeth, at Middletown,
Conn. Chicago, July 25, 1827.
You will undoubtedly hear through the medium of
the newspapers of the hostilities lately commenced
by the Winnebago Indians.
Governor Cass surprised us on the 21st by his
arrival, and brought us the first intelligence of the
depredations committed by that tribe. They com
menced their hostilities at Prairie du Chien, by
killing a family in open day. Afterward, a party
of one hundred and fifty waylaid a boat descending
the Mississippi, attacked it with great violence, and
after a contest of two hours, withdrew. The boat's
crew defended themselves bravely; their loss was
two men killed and six wounded. The Indians lost
fourteen men killed; the number of wounded was
not ascertained. The Governor was at the Prairie
when the boat arrived, and counted two hundred
ball holes through her cargo box. All the forces
from St. Louis were immediately sent up to the
Prairie to join those from the St. Peter's. It is
thought that the forces collected at the Prairie amount
174

aButbon J>altott$rtan I^uBBatti
to seven thousand men, part of whom are now doubt
less in the enemy's country.
The war-club was in circulation here during the
payment, with such secresy that not one of us knew
anything of it until the Govemor arrived, when he
was informed by a few friendly Indians.
Tbe principal Pottawatomie Indians were sent for,
and a council held on the 22d, when the Govemor
informed them of every particular. They acknowl
edged that messages had been sent to them from the
Wmnebagoes, but assured us of theu* friendship.
We do not apprehend the least danger from them,
and those who live on the Illinois River are bringing
theu: families into our settlement for protection.
The inhabitants of this place are all assembled in the
fort. We do not think that there is any danger, but
think it best to he on our guard.
The Governor left here yesterday for Green Bay.
He will send a company of troops on here immedi
ately to take possession of this fort. We expect
them in twenty days. I shall not leave here until I
see my friends out of all danger. You shall hear
from me again shortly; in the meantime, do not be
uneasy as to my safety. We have vigilant scouts
out, and get notice of any party of Indians before
they could surprise us, although I do not think there
is the least danger of their making the attempt.
Our troops will give them enough to attend to in
theu- own villages, and the war cannot last more
than twenty or thirty days before they are all
destroyed. Again I beg you wUl not be uneasy; I
am in perfect safety.
I cannot close this communication without
adding my testimony regarding the character
and services of that noble Indian chief, Shaub-
e-nee. From my first acquaintance with him,
which began in the faU of 1818, to his death,
I was impressed with the nobleness of his
175

€iie ^utoBto0caj[>BP of

character. Physically, he was as fine a speci
men of a man as I ever saw; taU, weU propor
tioned, strong, and active, with a face express
ing great strength of mind and goodness of
heart. Had he been favored with the advan
tages of education, he might have commanded
a high position among the men of his day.
He was remarkable for his integrity, of a
generous and forgiving nature, always hos
pitable, and until his return from the West, a
strictly temperate man, not only himself
abstaining from all intoxicating liquors, but
infiuencing his people to do the same. He
was ever a friend to the white settlers, and
should be held by them and their descendants
in greatful remembrance. He had an uncom
monly retentive memory, and a perfect knowl
edge of this Western cduntry. He would
readily draw on the sand or bed of ashes, quite
a correct map of the whole district from the
the lakes west to the Missouri River, giving
general courses of rivers, designating towns
and places of notoriety, even though he had
never seen them.
It has been reported that Shaub-e-nee said
that Tecumseh was killed by Col. R. M. John
son. This, I am convinced, is a mistake, for
I have often conversed with him on that sub
ject, and he invariably said that baUs were
striking all around them; by one of them
Tecumseh was kiUed and feU by his side; that
no one could tell who directed the fatal shot,
176

oBurtion J>altonj$tan l^uBBarti
unless it were the person who fired it; that
person was claimed to be Johnson.
It ought to be a matter of regret and morti
fication to us all that our Government so
wronged this man, who so often periled his
own life to save those of the whites, by with
holding from him the title to the land granted
him under a solemn treaty, the Commissioners,
representing our Government, having given
him their pledge that the land aUotted him by
the Pottawatomie Nation should be guaran
teed to him by our Govemment, and he pro
tected in its ownership. He never sold his
right to the land, but by force was driven from
it. When he retumed from the West to take
possession, he found that our Govemment,
disregarding his rights, had sold it.
tl have no information as to Mr. Hubbard's life
during the years 1828-29 further than that he was
engaged in a general business at Danville, and still
retained his trading post at Iroquois. During these
years he dealt quite extensively m farm produce, and
had contracts for furnishing beef and pork to the
troops stationed at Fort Dearborn. He continued
his annual visits to Mackinaw, and during his life as
a fur trader, made twenty-sbc trips to and from that
island, coasting Lake Michigan in an open row boat.
In 1828 he went on horseback and alone to Detroit
without seeing any indications of a white settlement
until he reached Ypsilanti, at which place were a few
log houses. In the winter of 1829 he killed a large
number of hogs, and not having received the barrels,
which were to arrive by vessel, he piled the pork up
on the river bank, near where Rush street now is,
and kept it in that manner until the arrival of barrels
177

€fjc ^utoBiojrapBp of

in the spring. This was the beginning of the packing
industry in Chicago. During tne summer of 1830 he,
for the first time, returned to the East and visited
his mother and family at Middletown, Conn. His
sisters Mary (afterwards Mrs. Dr. Clark) and Abby
(afterwards Mrs. A. L. Castleman) retumed with
him to his home in Danville, where they continued
to reside until they were married. — H. E. H.]
The winter of 1 830-3 1 was the most severe
one I ever experienced in the Indian country,
and was always remembered and spoken of by
the early settlers as the "winter of the big
snow. ' ' I was employed in gathering together
hogs to drive to Chicago to kill and sell to the
settlers and soldiers at Fort Dearborn, a
business in which I was then regularly engaged.
I also had a store at Danville stocked with
goods suitable for trade with the white settlers
of that section of country.
On the seventh of November, 1830, I
started out to gather up my hogs, which were
in smaU droves at different points on the road.
The snow was then about seven inches deep,
and it continued to fall for four or five days.
I had men to help me, and wagons containing
com for the hogs, in which were also our blan
kets and utensils.
When we left Beaver Creek marsh the
weather had changed, and the day was rainy
and misty. At dark we had reached the
Kankakee and camped in a little hollow, hav
ing left the hogs a mile or so back. It rained
hard a portion of the night, and then the wind
178

<Durtion J^aitoni^n l^uBBarti
changed and it began freezing. The water
gradually worked under the blanket and buffalo
robe in which I had wrapped myself, and on
attempting to rise I found myself frozen
fast to the ground, and had much difficulty in
freeing myself.
In the morning we gathered the hogs and
drove them to the hollow in which we had
camped, where we left them with our horses
and started to find Billy Caldwell, who I knew
was camped somewhere near YeUow Head
Point, which was about six miles from Kan
kakee. Following up the creek we found him
without difficulty, and were hospitably received
by both Caldwell and his wife. Mrs. Caldwell
made us some tea, and never in my life did I
drink such quantities of anything as I did of that.
We remained at Caldwell's a day and night,
when we again started the hogs for Chicago,
where we arrived in about thirty days. The
snow was about two feet deep on a level and
four or five feet in the drifts. I killed and
delivered my pork, and with empty wagons
started on my retum to Iroquois. Much of
the way we were compelled to cut a passage
through the snow and ice, and were ten days
in making the trip. We had lost some of the
hogs, and on our return we found one poor
bmte under the snow, where he had managed
to subsist upon the roots of grass. Of course
we killed him to save him from the slow tor
ture of starvation. 179

€f)e ^tutoBiOjffrapIip of

It was a bitter cold night when we arrived
at the Kankakee River, which we found very
high and full of floating ice, with no possibility
of fording it. My wagon was one of those
heavy, large-box vehicles called a "Pennsylvania
wagon," the box of which we chinked with
snow, over which we poured water, which
soon froze and made it water tight. Into this
we put our hamess, blankets, and utensils, and
using it for a boat passed safely over, the
horses being made to swim after. From this
point we progressed at the rate of five to eight
mUes a day, and camped at Beaver Creek the
evening of the second day thereafter. It had
again rained, and aU the channels and streams
were high, and Beaver Creek had overflowed
its banks, so I determined to go from there to
Iroquois alone and send a man back with a
horse and canoe to help get the others across.
I cut a dry tree for a raft and got onto it,
when an Indian, who was one of the party,
said he wanted to cross also. I told him it
was impossible; that the tree would only hold
one, and he must wait for the canoe which I
would send. We had a long rope which he
proposed to tie to the log, and so draw it back
after I had crossed, and to this I foolishly
assented. When I had reached the middle
of the stream I found I could advance no
further, and on looking back found the Indian
was holding the rope too tight, and I called to
him to let go. On his doing so, and the log
i8o

oBurtion ^altotij^tan I^uBBacti
being released, it tumed suddenly over and
threw me into the stream. I swam ashore,
and when I landed my clothes were frozen
stiff, and I was near perishing with the cold.
My favorite horse, "Croppy," who had
watched my departure and progress, was much
excited, and neighed, pawed the ground, and
whinnied so that I decided to allow him to
come across. I called to Vasseur and told him
to get my dry neips and moccasins from my
saddle-bags, place them on the horse's head
under the headstaU, and let him loose. I
called to Croppy and he swam across to me.
The bank was precipitous, and I had great
difficulty in getting him up, he having drifted
down below the ford, but I finally succeeded.
I was sheeted with ice, but by altemately
riding and running, made the sixteen miles to
my house in good time, and sent Portier back
with a horse and canoe loaded with provisions
for the men and corn for the horses.
The canoe was used as a sleigh, and in it
Portier rode and drove. He reached the men
late at night and with his feet badly frozen.
The day following all crossed the stream and
arrived at home. We had been twenty days
traveling seventy-five miles.
I had a smaU outfit up the Kankakee River,
about six or eight mUes froni where "Hub
bard's TraU" crossed the Kankakee, where
two men were located. A day or so before
the occurrence above narrated, one of these
i8i

<Dur2ion ^aUtm^U I^uBBarti
men started for my trading house, and in at
tempting to cross Beaver Creek, at or near the
place where I crossed, was drowned. Not
retuming as soon as he was expected, his
companion sent an Indian to notify me of his
absence, and search was made for him, but
nothing could be seen or heard of him. The
following spring an Indian going up Beaver
Creek in a canoe, found his skeleton lodged in
the branches of a fallen tree, about ten miles
below the crossing, to which place it had been
carried by the current.

Note. — The foregoing narrative brings the story
of Mr. Hubbard down to November, 1830, where it
ends abruptly, having covered just one third of his
life. In the Introduction preceding this short Auto
biography, an attempt has been made merely to
enumerate the activities of the fifty-six years that
followed, as they could be gathered from letters,
memoranda, personal reminiscences of contempo
raries, and from the pages of our city's recorded
history, which must have read quite otherwise than
they do had it not been for Curdon S. Hubbard, who
has been called "The Prototype of Chicago."
CM. M.

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