The Fort Dearborn Massacre Part 2

Mrs. Helm "

Mrs. Holt }

Mrs. Burns }

Mrs. Leigh } Prisoners

Mrs. Simmons }

Mrs. Needs }

Killed in action:

Mrs. Corbin.

Mrs. Heald's Negro woman.

Children yet in captivity:

Mrs. Leigh's 2, one since dead N D.

Mrs. Burns' 2.

Mrs. Simmons' 1.

13 children killed during the action.

11 citizens including Captain Wells.

John Kinzie taken, but not considered as a prisoner of war.

54 Rank and file left the Garrison.

THE Ma.s.sACRE AT CHICAGO[1]

It was the evening of April 7, 1812. The children were dancing before the fire to the music of their father's violin. The tea table was spread, and they were awaiting the return of their mother, who had gone to visit a sick neighbor about a quarter of a mile up the river.

Suddenly their sports were interrupted. The door was thrown open, and Mrs. Kinzie rushed in, pale with terror, and scarcely able to speak.

"The Indians! the Indians!" she gasped.

"The Indians? What? Where?" they all demanded in alarm.

"Up at Lee's Place, killing and scalping!"

With difficulty Mrs. Kinzie composed herself sufficiently to say that, while she was at Burns', a man and a boy had been seen running down with all speed on the opposite side of the river. They had called across to the Burns family to save themselves, for the Indians were at Lee's Place, from which the two had just made their escape. Having given this terrifying news, they had made all speed for the fort, which was on the same side of the river.

All was now consternation and dismay in the Kinzie household. The family were hurried into two old pirogues that lay moored near the house, and paddled with all possible haste across the river to take refuge in the fort.

All that the man and boy who had made their escape were able to tell was soon known; but, in order to render their story more intelligible, it is necessary to describe the situation.

Lee's Place, since known as Hardscrabble, was a farm intersected by the Chicago River, about four miles from its mouth. The farmhouse stood on the west bank of the south branch of this river. On the north side of the main stream, but near its junction with Lake Michigan, stood the dwelling house and trading establishment of Mr. Kinzie.

The fort was situated on the southern bank, directly opposite this mansion, the river and a few rods of sloping green turf on either side being all that intervened between them.

The fort was differently constructed from the one erected on the same site in 1816. It had two blockhouses on the southern side, and on the northern a sally port, or subterranean pa.s.sage from the parade ground to the river. This was designed to facilitate escape in case of an emergency or as a means of supplying the garrison with water during a siege.

In the fort at this period were three officers, Captain Heald, who was in command, Lieutenant Helm, the son-in-law of Mr. Kinzie, and Ensign Ronan--the last two very young men--and the surgeon, Dr. Van Voorhees.

The garrison numbered about seventy-five men, very few of whom were effective.

A constant and friendly intercourse had been maintained between these troops and the Indians. It is true that the princ.i.p.al men of the Potowatomi nation, like those of most other tribes, went yearly to Fort Malden, in Canada, to receive the large number of presents with which the British Government, for many years, had been in the habit of purchasing their alliance; and it was well known that many of the Potowatomi, as well as Winnebago, had been engaged with the Ottawa and Shawnee at the battle of Tippecanoe, the preceding autumn; yet, as the princ.i.p.al chiefs of all the bands in the neighborhood appeared to be on the most amicable terms with the Americans, no interruption of their harmony was at any time antic.i.p.ated.

After August 15, however, many circ.u.mstances were recalled that might have opened the eyes of the whites had they not been blinded by a false security. One incident in particular may be mentioned.

In the spring preceding the destruction of the fort, two Indians of the Calumet band came to the fort on a visit to the commanding officer. As they pa.s.sed through the quarters, they saw Mrs. Heald and Mrs. Helm playing at battledoor.

Turning to the interpreter, one of them, Nau-non-gee, remarked, "The white chiefs' wives are amusing themselves very much; it will not be long before they are hoeing in our cornfields!"

At the time this was considered an idle threat, or, at most, an ebullition of jealous feeling at the contrast between the situation of their own women and that of the "white chiefs' wives." Some months after, how bitterly was it remembered!

The farm at Lee's Place was occupied by a Mr. White and three persons employed by him.

In the afternoon of the day on which our narrative commences, a party of ten or twelve Indians, dressed and painted, arrived at the house.

According to the custom among savages, they entered and seated themselves without ceremony.

Something in their appearance and manner excited the suspicion of one of the household, a Frenchman, who remarked, "I do not like the looks of these Indians--they are none of our folks. I know by their dress and paint that they are not Potowatomi."

Another of the men, a discharged soldier, then said to a boy who was present, "If that is the case, we'd better get away from them if we can.

Say nothing; but do as you see me do."

There were two canoes tied near the bank, and the soldier walked leisurely towards them. Some of the Indians inquired where he was going.

He pointed to the cattle standing among the haystacks on the opposite bank, making signs that they must go and fodder them, and that they would then return and get their supper.

As the afternoon was far advanced, this explanation was accepted without question.

The soldier got into one canoe, and the boy into the other. The stream was narrow, and they were soon across. Having gained the opposite side, they pulled some hay for the cattle, made a show of herding them, and when they had gradually made a circuit, so that their movements were concealed by the haystacks, took to the woods, close at hand, and then started for the fort.

They had run about a quarter of a mile when they heard two guns discharged in succession. These guns they supposed to have been leveled at the companions they had left.

They ran without stopping until they arrived opposite Burns',[2] where, as before related, they called across to warn the family of their danger, and then hastened on to the fort.

It now occurred to those who had secured their own safety that the Burns family was still exposed to imminent peril. The question was, who would hazard his life to bring them to a place of security? The gallant young officer, Ensign Ronan, with a party of five or six soldiers, volunteered to go to their rescue.

They ascended the river in a scow, took the mother, with her infant, scarcely a day old, upon her bed to the boat, and carefully conveyed her with the other members of the family to the fort.