It may be said that the Indians upon the St. Croix and Chippewa Rivers, and their numerous branches, have been drawn into a close intercourse with Government. But it will be obvious that a perseverance in the system of official advice and restraints, is essential to give permanence to the effects already produced, and to secure a firm and lasting peace between them and the Sioux. To this end, the settlement of the line upon the Red Cedar Fork is an object which claims the attention of the Department; and would justify, in my opinion, the calling together the parties interested, at some convenient spot near the junction of the Red Cedar River with the Chippewa. Indeed, the handsome elevation, and the commanding geographical advantages of this spot, render it one which, I think, might be advantageously occupied as a military post. Such an occupancy would have the effect to keep the parties at peace; and the point of land, on which the work is proposed to be erected, might be purchased from the Sioux, together with such part of the disputed lands near the mills as might be deemed necessary to quiet the title of the Chippewas. By acquiring this portion of country for the purposes of military occupancy, the United States would be justified in punishing any murders committed upon it; and I am fully convinced that no measure which could, at this time, be adopted, would so certainly conduce to a permanent peace between the tribes. I therefore beg leave, through you, to submit these subjects to the consideration of the honorable the Secretary of War, with every distrust in my own powers of observation, and with a very full confidence in his.
I have the honor to be, sir,
Very respectfully, your obedient servant,
H. R. SCHOOLCRAFT.
To Elbert Herring, Esq., Com. Ind. Affairs.
Brief Notes of a Tour in 1831, from Galena, in Illinois, to Fort Winnebago, on the source of Fox River, Wisconsin. By Henry R. Schoolcraft.
Time admonishes me of my promise to furnish you some account of my journey from Galena to Fort Winnebago. But I confess, that time has taken away none of those features which make me regard it as a task. Other objects have occupied so much of my thoughts, that the subject has lost some of its vividness, and I shall be obliged to confine myself more exclusively to my notes than I had intended. This will be particularly true in speaking of geological facts. Geographical features impress themselves strongly on the mind. The shape of a mountain is not easily forgotten, and its relation to contiguous waters and woods is recollected after the lapse of many years. The succession of plains, streams, and settlements is likewise retained in the memory, while the peculiar plains, the soils overlaying them, and all the variety of their mineral and organic contents, require to be perpetuated by specimens and by notes, which impose neither a slight nor a momentary labor.
Limited sketches of this kind are, furthermore, liable to be misconceived. Prominent external objects can only be brought to mind, and these often reveal but an imperfect notion of the pervading character of strata, and still less knowledge of their mineral contents. Haste takes away many opportunities of observation; and scanty or inconvenient means of transporting hand specimens, often deprive us of the requisite data. Indeed, I should be loath to describe the few facts I am about to communicate, had you not personally visited and examined the great carboniferous and sandstone formation on the Mississippi and Wisconsin, and thus got the knowledge of their features. The parallelism which is apparent in these rocks, by the pinnacles which have been left standing on high—the wasting effects of time in scooping out valleys and filling up declivities—and the dark and castle-looking character of the cherty limestone bluffs, as viewed from the water, while the shadows of evening are deepening around, are suited to make vivid impressions. And these broken and denuded cliffs offer the most favorable points for making geological observations. There are no places inland where the streams have cut so deep. On gaining the height of land, the strata are found to be covered with so heavy a deposit of soil, that it is difficult to glean much that can be relied on respecting the interior structure.
The angle formed by the junction of the Wisconsin with the Mississippi, is a sombre line of weather-beaten rocks. Gliding along the current, at the base of these rocks, the idea of a "hill country," of no very productive character, is naturally impressed upon the observer. And this impression came down, probably, from the days of Marquette, who was the first European, that we read of, who descended the Wisconsin, and thus became the true discoverer of the Mississippi. The fact that it yielded lead ore, bits of which were occasionally brought in by the natives, was in accordance with this opinion; and aided, it may be supposed, in keeping out of view the real character of the country. I know not how else to account for the light which has suddenly burst upon us from this bank of the Mississippi, and which has at once proved it to be as valuable for the purposes of agriculture as for those of mining, and as sylvan in its appearance as if it were not fringed, as it were, with rocks, and lying at a great elevation above the water. This elevation is so considerable as to permit a lively descent in the streams, forming numerous mill-seats. The surface of the country is not, however, broken, but may be compared to the heavy and lazy-rolling waves of the sea after a tempest. These wave-like plains are often destitute of trees, except a few scattering ones, but present to the eye an almost boundless field of native herbage. Groves of oak sometimes diversify those native meadows, or cover the ridges which bound them. Very rarely does any rock appear above the surface. The highest elevations, the Platte Mounds, and the Blue Mound, are covered with soil and with trees. Numerous brooks of limpid water traverse the plains, and find their way into either the Wisconsin, Rock River, or the Mississippi. The common deer is still in possession of its favorite haunts; and the traveller is very often startled by flocks of the prairie-hen rising up in his path. The surface soil is a rich black alluvion; it yields abundant crops of corn, and, so far as they have been tried, all the cereal gramina. I have never, either in the West or out of the West, seen a richer soil, or more stately fields of corn and oats, than upon one of the plateaux of the Blue Mound.
Such is the country which appears to be richer in ores of lead than any other mineral district in the world—which yielded forty millions of pounds in seven years—produced a single lump of ore of two thousand cubic feet—and appears adequate to supply almost any amount of this article that the demands of commerce require.
The River of Galena rises in the mineral plains of Iowa county, in that part of the Northwestern Territory which is attached, for the purposes of temporary government, to Michigan. It is made up of clear and permanent springs, and has a descent which affords a very valuable water-power. This has been particularly remarked at the curve called Mill-seat Bend. No change in its general course, which is southwest, is, I believe, apparent after it enters the northwest angle of the State of Illinois. The town of Galena, the capital of the mining country, occupies a somewhat precipitous semicircular bend, on the right (or north) bank of the river, six or seven miles from its entrance into the Mississippi. Backwater, from the latter, gives the stream itself the appearance, as it bears the name, of a "river," and admits steamboat navigation thus far. It is a rapid brook immediately above the town, and of no further value for the purpose of navigation. Lead is brought in from the smelting furnaces, on heavy ox-teams, capable of carrying several tons at a load. I do not know that water has been, or that it cannot be made subservient in the transportation of this article from the mines. The streams themselves are numerous and permanent, although they are small, and it would require the aid of so many of these, on any projected route, that it is to be feared the supply of water would be inadequate. To remedy this deficiency, the Wisconsin itself might be relied on. Could the waters of this river be conducted in a canal along its valley from the portage to the bend at Arena, they might, from this point, be deflected in a direct line to Galena. This route would cut the mine district centrally, and afford the upper tributaries of the Pekatolika and Fever Rivers as feeders. Such a communication would open the way to a northern market, and merchandise might be supplied by the way of Green Bay, when the low state of water in the Mississippi prevents the ascent of boats. It would, at all times, obviate the tedious voyage, which goods ordered from the Atlantic cities have to perform through the straits of Florida and Gulf of Mexico. A railroad could be laid upon this route with equal, perhaps superior advantages. These things may seem too much like making arrangements for the next generation. But we cannot fix bounds to the efforts of our spreading population, and spirit of enterprise. Nor, after what we have seen in the way of internal improvement, in our own day and generation, should we deem anything too hard to be accomplished.
I set out from Galena in a light wagon, drawn by two horses, about ten o'clock in the morning (August 17th), accompanied by Mr. B. It had rained the night and morning of the day previous, which rendered the streets and roads quite muddy. A marly soil, easily penetrated by rain, was, however, as susceptible to the influence of the sun, and, in a much shorter period than would be imagined, the surface became dry. Although a heavy and continued shower had thoroughly drenched the ground, and covered it with superfluous water, but very little effects of it were to be seen at this time. We ascended into the open plain country, which appears in every direction around the town, and directed our course to Gratiot's Grove. In this distance, which, on our programme of the route, was put down, at fifteen miles, a lively idea of the formation and character of the country is given. The eye is feasted with the boundlessness of its range. Grass and flowers spread before and beside the traveller, and, on looking back, they fill up the vista behind him. He soon finds himself in the midst of a sylvan scene. Groves fringe the tops of the most distant elevations, and clusters of trees—more rarely, open forests—are occasionally presented. The trees appear to be almost exclusively of the species of white oak and rough-bark hickory. Among the flowers, the plant called rosin-weed attracts attention by its gigantic stature, and it is accompanied, as certainly as substance by shadow, by the wild indigo, two plants which were afterwards detected, of less luxuriant growth, on Fox River. The roads are in their natural condition; they are excellent, except for a few yards where streams are crossed. At such places there is a plunge into soft, black muck, and it requires all the powers of a horse harnessed to a wagon to emerge from the stream.