The American sketch book : a collection of historical incidents with descriptions of corresponding localities

Front matter

*

,A /ry>ru ^ S

TH E

Preface

In placing this volume before the public, the writer desires to say that it is the work of many months. All published statements, bearing upon the subject, have been compared and carefully weighed. Documents, musty with age, have been conned, and old settlers interviewed. For the later history of Brown County, she is principally indebted to thirty years’ files of the “Green Bay Advocate," which have been placed at her disposal for perusal by the gentlemanly proprietors.

The engravings of this work have been made expressly for it, from photographs taken for that purpose, at a cost of several hundred dollars. The engraver, Thomas Robinson, a first-class Boston artist, came West a few years since on account of his health and settled at St. Paul, where he now resides.

The aim of the author has been to give a truthful history of the past, and an impartial representation of the present. If any person to whom a place in this work is justly due, has not been represented here, it is because she has not been afforded the proper information.

In view of the many contradictory statements that are apt to be made by even eye-witnesses of any transaction, it is impossible to produce a history that all will unite in pronouncing correct. It can not even be hoped that such will be the case with the present volume. The writer can only assure the public, that she has labored assiduously toward such an end, and trusts that her work will in general meet with their approbation.

i

De Langlade.

"J' HE j-^IONEER ^ETTLEf^OF ^ISCONSI

N,

ICHILIMACKINAC, the lake-girt isle,

Where first the morning sun is wont to smile Before it drops its rays upon the lower earth;

On which they linger last at close of day.

As though a benediction they would say.

Is where our loved Wisconsin’s pioneer had birth.1

His father had a noble lineage Of many ancestors, both proud and sage,

Who were at rest beneath the smiling skies of France —

A younger son, whose fortune was his name,

Come hither, hoping that by wealth and fame,

He might the honor of that noble house enhance.

The mother was an untaught forest child — A creature, who was daring, proud and wild, With lineage as noble as her husband’s own;

For here within the land of her nativity, Related to Nis-so-wa-quet was she,

Who had an undisputed title to a throne.

Young Charles De Langlade in his boyhood proved A brilliant leader where so e’er he moved.

He learned to scale the rocks and glide upon the waves. His trusty bow and arrow brought down game So speedily, that the young hero’s name Became a talisman of triumph to the braves.

The American Sketch (Book.

i or on a day when stern defeat had met Full twice the force of King Nis-so-wa-quet,

A chieftain’s spirit sought him in a dream.

"Take with you, King,” said he, “ De Langlade’s boy, His face shall lead to victory and joy.

Try once again. You’re nearer triumph than you seem.”

Uprose the king, next morn, and marched to war.

Bearing the child although from danger far;

Yet full of faith he made the third and last attack On the resisting village, and so well That almost instantly it yielded — fell;

And full of honors proud the Ottawas came back.

Back to Michilimacinac, which rung U ith gayest notes of triumph ever sung,

While Charles De Langlade,” crowned the hero of the day, Had the assurance that in every fight His youthful voice should counsel them aright,

His tiny feet should lead them in the better way.

Thence forth upon the war-path marched the lad.

And many victories the chieftains had,

For Fate looked smiling down where the young hero went. Even his father s daring countrymen Believed in him so much, that always, when He bore them company, they moved to war content.

And so the years sped by, and manhood came,

Adding new lustre to De Langlade’s name;

When that sweet, lake-girt island home to him grew small. As he bethought him of a broader land,

Where he could look around, on every hand,

As far as eye could reach, and say he owned it all.

For, in his wanderings he oft had seen A bay encircled by a frame of green;—

A swift clear river mingled with the waves of foam;

Beyond, a broad expanse of wood and glade.

There he would found a colony and make a home. ’

History of (Brown County.

Till now no one had harbored such a thought.

The “fathers,” it is true, the savage mind had taught, And traders here had plied their money-making schemes; But none had journeyed hither who had not The hope that future time would cast his lot,

At least his grave, upon the land of childhood’s dreams.

A hundred years since white men’s feet had trod For the first time upon the virgin sod,3 Yet fair Ouisconsin s4 founder yet must thither roam,

And by unwearying years of patient toil Must clear the lands and cultivate the soil,

And pioneer a mighty people to their home.

But after all the island of his birth

Was dear to him, though it had lesser worth —

Yes, dearer far than was the land beyond the bay.

Upon those rocks had rested first his sight;

His feet pressed first the beach, wave-washed and white; There first his infant lips were taught to sing and pray.

The friends who clustered round him in his youth,

And all that loved him still were there forsooth;

Even the maiden who had warmed his youthful heart.

Whom, clinging to her friends and forest life,

He could not take with him and make his wife,

From all of these with few exceptions he must part.

His parents and their other children, too,

Would follow in the path he was to hew,

And at La Baye des Puants 5 live and leave their graves.

The hour for their departure now was nigh.

Friends gathered on the shore to say good bye,

And their canoes were tossing on the restless waves.

Farewell ! Michilimackinac, farewell !

Loved is each rock-bound cliff and shady dell !

Upon the high arched precipice, vine-wreathed

And crowned with evergreens, De Langlade knelt.

Emotions both of joy and woe he felt

While to his native isle, a low farewell he breathed.

The American Sketch (Book .

The grape-vines twined their tendrils o’er his head. Below, the wild sweet-briar fragrance shed Upon the balmy air; and shimmering down,

All broken into spangles by the trees,

That waved their foliage in the summer breeze,

The sunbeams came and rested on his brow — a crown.

Then on the waves where that same sunlight fell Through crystal waters, lighting every shell,6 Which at the bottom lay, and gilding every fish,

The party went that bonny summer day;

And as the isle in distance sank away,

A bright dissolving view, they breathed a silent wish —

That they might make, upon La Baye’s fair shore,

A name and fame to last forever more —

A wish that had fulfillment in the after time;

For on those rice-grown plains, a city rose,

In wealth and numbers matching some of those Of the far-distant French imperial clime.

Green Bay! as it in after years was known,

Because of hanks by trees and shrubs o’ergrown, Which o’er transparent waters hung their leaves of green, Reflected by those waters till the hay Became distinguishable miles away,

A picturesque as well as most enticing scene!

Green Bay, a city of the coming years,

A land of promise to the pioneers,

Was ever after that De Langlade’s dwelling place.7 He tilled the soil and largely dealt in trade,

And many were the brilliant schemes he laid,

That might distinguish yet his noble house and race.

He built his home upon the river side,

Where he could watch the changing of the tide,8 Which ebbed and flowed as regularly as the sea;

Where he could fish, mayhap, and trap his game,

Or with his stores could barter for the same ;

And live a life of work, yet one from bondage free.

History of (Brown County.

Surrounded by the savage bands, he yet Was ever free from fear and vain regret;

For, knowing of his prowess and his bravery,

The Sauks and Foxes did not dare attack One who would hurl such speedy vengeance back; And for this cause, a friend was each Menominee.

And yet the warlike Foxes tribute asked From each and all who by their village passed, Which was some thirty-seven miles above the bay,

Upon the river which now bears their name.

The traders paid it with a flush of shame,

Until Morand resolved to do the fraud away.

His trading house was farther to the south,

Not far from the Ouisconsin River’s mouth.

By lakes, and bay, and rivers, with the hardest toil,

His goods were carried from on eastern place; Therefore he would no more submit with grace,

And so resolved to drive the Foxes from the soil.

He took De Langlade and a trusty crew,

Those who the labyrinths of forests knew;

All going out in bark canoes — a goodly fleet,

They turned their faces to the river’s head.

O’er each canoe, a covering was spread,

Like tradesmen’s goods preserved from rain and heat.

Dividing near the place, the gallant band,

In part proceeded to attack on land;

While, in the boats, the dther forces hidden lay,

Save two, in each, that rowed straight to the shore, As if to pay their dues, as heretofore,

Then pass, as tradesmen always did, upon their way.

Well planned was the surprise. They took the place, And gave the fast retreating Foxes chase (Instead of tribute), till the latter made a stand,

With rallied forces, and a battle fought;

Which for the Foxes only came to naught.

They were defeated and lost many of their band.

The American Sketch (Beck.

As “ Hill of Death” from thence the spot was known, Because of bodies which in heaps were thrown,

And left to moulder in the autumn sun and air.

The Indians made retreat from Butte des Marts,

And built on the Ouisconsin River’s shore.

Morand considered it unsafe to leave them there.

Two hundred miles through cold, and drifted snow,

The traders marched, and, laying many low,

Made prisoners of those who were as yet alive.

But pity swelled the captors’ bosoms then —

They gave the Foxes freedom once again,

And bade them o’er the Mes-si’sip-i thrive.

The French and Indian war next gave a chance * To test the scion of the house of France.

Commissioned by the Government, he sought the field, Commandant of a force, which he had led From forest homes, his heart content to shed Its bright life-tide, before he would the country yield.

To Fort Du Quesne, he and his soldiers went,

And, urging an attack, from thence was sent To where the Braddock army were in camp at rest,

All little thinking that a stern defeat Would very soon their mighty forces meet,

And many fall, an Indian arrow in each breast.

Toward the Fort Du Quesne, twelve hundred strong,

Had Braddock’s well drilled forces moved along,

So sure of victory, that seven miles away,

All unconcerned, they stopped to rest and dine;

And while as yet they lingered o’er their wine,

They found how fatal to their hopes was their delay.

Now rang the Indian war-whoop through the air That told the French and Indian troops were there —

That shrill war-whoop that struck the stoutest hearts with awe; Beaujeu, commander, his French forces led;

The Indians had De Langlade at their head ;

And neither knew or followed British battle law.

Fast flew the arrows; bullets fell like hail;

And hearts that were not known to shrink or quail, Grew cold and silent with Beaujeu’s surprised attack.

He fell amid the battle’s heated toil;

But, loaded with rich stores of British spoil,

De Langlade led the most triumphant army back —

Back through the sweetness of a summer time.

In beauty bursting on that northern clime;

When, like a paradise, the forests were in bloom;

When crystal brooklets murmured all day long,

In keeping with the birds’ unceasing song,

And all the air was redolent with rich perfume!

But to admire De Langlade could not pause.

Re was demanded by his country’s cause Again to take the field. Thence forth, in thickest strife. Through Canada, he led his dauntless braves;

And though while there so many found their graves.

He seemed to have a Providence-protected life.

The story of his prowess crossed the sea,

And so much pleased the king of France, that he An ensign’s full commission9 to De Langlade sent.

This gave the soldier new and added zeal,

Such as ambitious bosoms love to feel,

And which a brilliant luster to his daring lent.

Privations often to De Langlade fell;

And of his weary marches, who can tell?

Sometimes his meals were made of roots, or rattlesnakes; And oft, with stormy skies above his head,

Worn out and hungry, he would seek his bed In some unhealthy swamp upon the crispy brakes.

Still on he marched, and bravely met the foe —

Laid many of the valliant leaders low.

With that blind worship for his far-off father-land,

Which Frenchmen have, he felt not want or pain, But, living in the triumphs he might gain,

He nerved to reckless deeds his savage band.

Crown Point, also Ticonderoga stood,

Both monuments to his brave hardihood.

But, later on the fatal plains of Abraham,

He met the British forces and defeated fled,

With many wounded and a thousand dead The victims of a fearless British leader’s sham.

Quebec thus fell; with It the Province too.

Since thus it was, what could De Langlade do But lead his now; despondent army home once more?

He loved the cause of his own father-land,

And felt more deeply than his savage band,

Who only loss of gain and plunder could deplore.

But, while he had within Quebec sojourned,

A lesson far more pleasant he had learned —

The one of love. A maiden with such soft-brown eyes Had looked upon his life and warmed his heart, Becoming of that life a very part,

Before he dreamed it, as he found to his surprise.

Just in his prime was Charles De Langlade then.

Like a commanding spirit, among men,

He moved and worked, though not in statue large or talk His eyes were bright and piercing as the eagle’s own, And black as midnight when upon her throne;

While grace and swiftness marked his motions one and all.

The fair ,0Lalotte was charmed ; yet could but grieve Her childhood’s happy home and friends to leave,

And others seek among the children of the west,

Of whose wild lives she had so often read That feelings only of misfaith and dread,

As of a most blood-thirsty clan, had filled her breast.

Yet, womanlike, to be her hero’s wife,

She would imperil, as she thought, her life, Consenting at La Baye to cast her future lot;

And with her coming hitherward, must date The first of women settlers in the State,

In whose patrician veins some Indian blood flowed not.

History of CBrown County.

The British were in rule, and British law^ Extended to Michilimackinac;11 And, from that fortress, the commandant sent abroad An order that the French should all report To him, by an appearance at the fort;

Which surely was for purposes that all might laud;

Since ’twas to gain the people’s best good will, And teach them that they could be happy still.

De Langlade and his consort sought the captain’s side; And, when again they started on their way,

They went with lighter hearts back to La Baye — The home where unmolested they might then reside.

The rule was irksome; still submit he must,

For he, as well as brave, was true and just;

And when Chief Pontiac the daring plan had laid Michilimackinac to massacre,

His truth and pity were at once astir,

And thitherward the journey of the lake he made,

To warn the officer commanding there,

Who of his words took little need or care.

Again De Langlade’s warning came; and still again.

Some friendly Indians had disclosed the scheme Once more within the land to rule supreme,

By storming forts and killing all the Englishmen.

“ De Langlade,” thus the bold commander spoke,

“ I weary of this oft-repeated joke.

Of twaddle of old women, I have had enough.

Against the British there is no design.

The Indians are our friends, I do opine.

So trouble me no more with such unpleasant stuff.”

Soon passed away the time that was between That and the birthday of the British Queen.

That day, outside the fort, at ball the Indians played, Commemorating thus the great event.

Oft o’er the picketing the ball was sent,

And backward tossed by soldiers who watched unafraid.

The American Sketch (Book.

At length, the officer gave out command To open wide the gates, and let the band Have opportunity themselves to get the ball.

Ah ! sad mistake ! The Indians forward sprang With arms concealed. Then loud the war-whoop rang.

And thick and fast the Englishmen began to fall.

Michilimackinac, why on thy hills Must thus the crimson life-tide run in rills ?

That kind commandant thus be pinioned to the stake,

The wood made ready, and the torches wait To end the gallant captain’s earthly fate ?

But who comes yonder, gliding o’er the glassy lake ?

Who but De Langlade and a trusty crew,

Well armed although in numbers few,

Who speedily were landed on the island’s shore?

Straight to the officer, De Langlade went,

Nor noticing the Indians’ discontent,

But quickly cutting loose the bonds the captives wore.

He said, “My friends, are you displeased with this?

If so, then I will answer what may seem amiss.

The captain’s life is mine. Henceforth you deal with me!” And there he stood, so brave and handsome too.

That every bosom admiration knew,

While most of all swelled his, who was so late made free.

No words were answered back. No arm was raised.

The Indian captors view him almost dazed W ith wonder at his daring. His decisive tone Had in it that they dared not disobey.

They saw their captives being led away,

And yet they gave no sign except an inward groan,

De Langlade added : u Captain Eth’rington,

If you had heeded, as you should have done,

The Twaddle of old women,’ warning you in vain,

You would not go to Montreal alone,

Leaving the staunch old fortress overthrown And nearly all your soldiers numbered with the slain.”

History of (Brown County.

With right good will, he shook the captain’s hand; Then chose an escort from his trusty band,

And well supplied with stores sent Eth’rington away. Then for a time, at least, no British law Ruled o’er the isle Michilimackinac,

Although it was resumed at some not distant day.

But Pontiac, adhering to his plan,

Upon Detroit a siege at once began ;

Though in that war De Langlade would not take a share, Since deeming it both useless and unjust.

Defeat soon came as well he knew it must;

And Peace again smiled on the hills and valleys fair.

As years sped by, increasing stores of gain,

De Langlade liked the more the British reign,

And yielded most implicitly to all their laws ;

And, when the colonies a war declared,

The British neither work nor trouble spared To win the influential hero to their cause.

No wonder he, a native of the west,

So far removed from eastern interest,

Should fail to give the colonies his sympathy.

He surely did not realize that they,

With almost hopeless toil, would pave the way Toward a mighty nation’s future liberty.

We sorrow that Wisconsin’s pioneer,

By better foresight, did not help to rear The everlasting monument to Freedom’s name,

To the inquiring world a guiding light,

And thereupon in shining glory write The matchless story of his deeds and fame.

But so it was. True to the British sway,

With rallied troops, he quickly made his way To join the forces, stationed on Canadian ground.

And through the many, long, eventful years,

Of triumphs and defeats, of hopes and fears,

W as never recreant to truth and duty found.

The American STcetch, (Bock.

Though in that war no records gave his name Within an everlasting wreath of fame,

Since those of the defeated do not thus descend,

He was rewarded by the Government Of Britain, by a pension yearly sent,

And by a gift of lands when war was at an end.

Nor did the new-fledged nation quite forget How influential was De Langlade yet —

Not more in times of war than he would be in peace. The forest sons, through battles, he had led;

And now that peace again its luster shed,

It was not fitting that his work and rule should cease.

t

He took command of Indian affairs,

Sharing with them their pleasures and their cares.

And working always for their best and highest good. Slowly did trade and commerce take the place Of battle triumph and exciting chase,

And of the weary marches through the pathless wood.

The years sped on. Around him at La Baye”

The colony grew larger, day by day.

His daughter’s children often clustered at his knee.

To listen to the story of his life,

Which had been so eventful — full of strife,

And of privation, yet from all dishonor free.

He lived again the battles of the past,

Yet was regretful to the very last,

That he had not participated in one more,

And thus for him an even hundred13 made. (Engagements they had been of every grade From forays up to conflicts red with human gore.)

He was by rich and poor alike revered;

Loved by the good and by the evil feared.

And as a mark of honor, every first of May,

(Canadian custom) was a flag-pole raised,

And many of his deeds rehearsed and praised All with salutes of musketry throughout the day.

So peacefully his moments glided on,

That there were signs of the approaching dawn,

Before he really knew that night had yet appeared.

But faith in his religion gave him strength To meet the mighty conqueror, at length,

As fearlessly his hundredth battle-field he neared.

The knell of eighteen hundred had been rung;

The requiem of a dying century sung;

The world was ushering the bright successor in,

When Charles De Langlade looked his last on earth,14 And in another sphere than this had birth,

Where it is hoped there is no strife or battle-din.

They laid the casket where the leafy trees Bowed their proud heads in answer to the breeze;

And flowers wreathed their brilliant colors o’er the place.

To-day a city’s eager people tread Where lay the sacred ashes of the dead,

And e’en the spot, thus honored, few can tell or trace.

Long years have fled toward the misty past;

Since then our land has known the war-storm’s blast ;

Two generations since have lived, and loved, and died;

Great cities stand where then the forest child Entrapped his game in thickets, dense and wild,

And homeward bore the trophies of the chase with pride.

Since then the native children, one by one,

Have slowly moved toward the setting sun.

While sighing for the homes and haunts they once held dear, They read their doom in every cloud and star,

In spring’s soft wooing and in winter’s war —

A remnant only left to-day of what they were.

All things are changed. The waters fall and rise Beneath the gaze of many thousand eyes;

The green encircled bay is white with dancing sails,

While landward, far and near, the ceaseless strife Of wholesome labor and of busy life In their beloved ancient homes and haunts prevails.

Great mansions proudly rise on either shore,

Where only wigwams were in days of yore.

Only the flowers, blooming in each nook and dell —

The sweet wild flowers of the olden time;

Only the wild birds’ ever merry chime,

Are left the same, of all they knew and loved so well.

The relics of the past are in decay;

Another people own the lands to-day;

And every where the word “Progression” is engraved; But still a name, most dear to memory,

De Langlade’s is and ever more will he —

A noble name by History’s bright annals saved.

Explanatory Notes.

1. Born at Mackinaw in 1724.

2. He was ten years old at the time.

3. Nicolet had visited the bay in 1639.

4. So Wisconsin was formally spelled.

5. Bay of the Winnebagoes— Green Bay.

6. The water at Mackinaw is remarkable for its transparency.

7. He settled at Green Bay in 1745.

8. The ebb and flow of the tide in Fox River have been noticed since the advent of the earliest pioneers.

9. The following is a copy of De Langlade’s Commission from Louis XV. The original is still in existence.

DE PAR LE ROY.

Sa Majeste ayant fait choix du Sr. Langlade ponr servir en qualite de Lieutenant reforme a la suite des troupes entretennes en Canada. Ellemande au Gouverneur son Lieutenant general de la Nouvelle France de le recevoir et de la faire reconnoitre et la ditte qualite de Lieutenant reforme detous ceux et ainsy qu’il apartiendra.

Fait a Versailles le pr. fevrier 1760.

LOUIS.

“Enregistreau Bureau de controlle du la marine de la Nouvelle France fait a Montreal le seize Juin mil Sept cent soixante. DEVILLERE,

1 . Charlotte Bourrassa of Montreal.

11. Mackinaw— pronounced in the olden times Miehilimackinaw.

12. Green Bay.

13. He had been in ninety-nine engagements.

14. He died in January, 1800,

WISCONSI N.

Chapter I. The Mission At De Pere

'HE country bordering Green Bay was first visited by a p* white man in the person of Jean Nicolet, interpreter and commissary of New France, or Canada, by which government he was sent in 1639* to conclude a peace with the Indians farther west. He came to the land of the “men of the sea” (Winnebagoes) and entered into friendly relations with them. Then he explored Green Bay and the Fox River, crossing the Portage and descending the Wisconsin River. About one hundred years previous to this, Ferdinand De Soto had explored the Mississippi from its mouth nearly to the confluence of the Missouri; and his descriptions of the river had given the opinions that it took its rise far away to the north from some lake or sea. Sure it is that Nicolet knew of its existence, since he affirmed that three days' sail down the Wisconsin would have taken him to the sea, having mistaken the Indian appellation of “great water” as meaning something larger than a river. Thus it is that Nicolet seems to have been the first to reach the waters of the upper Mississippi, and that as early as 1639. Without pushing his explorations farther, he returned to Quebec, from whence he went, in 1612, to Three Rivers to rescue a captive from some Algonquins. On the way, a storm came up and his frail boat was capsized. He was unable to swim and consequently lost his life.

*In view of the contradictory statements of historians, the writer desires to inform her readers that the information contained in this chapter is derived from records made by the Fathers themselves — viz: Nicolet, Allouez, Marquette and Hennipin.

Excited by the reports of Nicolet, the Jesuit missionaries decided to explore the country and reach the Pacific Ocean, planting the standard of the cross as they went along; but the Iroquois war broke out and obliged them to abandon all hopes of reaching the far west for a time. Still anxious to establish a belief in the Catholic faith upon the shores of the great lakes, they, in 1660, founded a mission at Chequamegon (Che-go-ime-gon). It was situated at the southwestern extremity of Lake Superior, near the Bayfield of to-day and at the place now known as La Point. This mission was in the charge of Father Claudius Allouez, who baptised into his faith a large number of the natives. But the Indians of La Point, after a time, migrated to other parts of the country, a large portion of those under the charge of Father Allouez, choosing the Green Bay region for an abiding place; which turned the priest’s attention this way.

Father James Marquette, in 1667, was sent to establish a mission at Sault St. Mary’s. Here he was joined a year later by Father Dablon and by their united exertions a church was built at that place.

The next year, Father Claudius Allouez, following his converts, made a visit to Green Bay region and founded a mission at what is now De Pere. He said his first mass on the day of St. Francis Xavier, December 3rd, 1668, and called the mission by that name. The succeeding spring, he explored the Fox and Wisconsin rivers, the latter of which, he wrote, “leads to the Messi-sipi,” showing that he, too, had a knowledge of the “great water.”

Father Allouez reported the Indians of the Bay as numbering about six hundred at the time of his arrival. They were largely engaged in agricultural pursuits and seemed intelligent and happy.

The reports, which Nicolet and others had circulated concerning the advantages to be derived by a fur trade with the Indians, in and bordering New France, led speculators to the wild and trackless country, and many, even of the French nobility, left home to invest their fortunes in the new world. According to Marquette’s own statement, the governor of the province, knowing the importance of a passage westward to the sea, selected M. Jolliet to find such a passage and Father Marquette to bear him company. It had long been the desire of Marquette to explore the Mississippi, and his joy at the permission was unbounded. They left Mackinaw in two frail canoes. and arrived at Green Bay in June, 1673. Passing through the Fox and