CHAPTER XIX.
South and Eastern borders of Lake Michigan—Their Flora and Fauna—Incidents of the journey—Topography—Geology, Botany, and Mineralogy—Indian Tribes—Burial-place of Marquette—Ruins of the post of old Mackinac—Reach Michilimackinac after a canoe journey north of four hundred miles.
It was now the last day of August. Having partaken of the hospitalities of Mr. Kinzie, and of Captains Bradley and Green, of Fort Dearborn, during our stay at Chicago, and completed the reorganization of our parties, we separated on the last day of the month, at two o'clock P. M.; Gov. Cass and his party, on horseback, taking the old Indian trail to Detroit, and Capt. Douglass and myself being left, with two canoes, to complete the circumnavigation of the lakes. We did not delay our departure over thirty minutes, but bidding adieu to Dr. Wolcott, whose manners, judgment, and intelligence had commanded our respect during the journey, embarked with two canoes; our steersmen immediately hoisted their square sails, and, favored by a good breeze, we proceeded twenty miles along the southern curve, at the head of Lake Michigan, and encamped.
Within two miles of Chicago, we passed, on the open shores of the lake, the scene of the massacre of Chicago, of the 15th of August, 1812, being the day after the surrender of Detroit by Gen. Hull. Gloom hung, at that eventful period, over every part of our western borders. Michilimackinac had already been carried by surprise; and the ill-advised order to evacuate Chicago, was deemed by the Indians an admission that the Americans were to be driven from the country. The Pottawattomies determined to show the power of their hostility on this occasion. Capt. Heald, the commanding officer, having received Gen. Hull's order to abandon the post, and having an escort of thirty friendly Miamis, from Fort Wayne, under Captain Wells, had quitted the fort at nine o'clock in the morning, with fifty-four regulars, a subaltern, physician, twelve militia, and the necessary baggage wagons for the provisions and ammunition, which contained eighteen soldiers, women and children. They had not proceeded more than a mile and a half along the shore of the lake, when an ambuscade of Indians was discovered behind the sand-hills which encompass the flat sandy shore. The horrid yell, which rose on the discovery being made, was accompanied by a general and deadly fire from them. Several men fell at the first fire, but Capt. Heald formed his men, and effected a charge up the bank, which dispersed his assailants. It was only, however, to find the enemy return by a flank movement, in which their numbers gave them the victory. In a few moments, out of his effective force of sixty-six men, but sixteen survived. With these, he succeeded in drawing off to a position in the prairie, where he was not followed by the Indians. On a negotiation, opened by a chief called Mukudapenais, he surrendered, under promise of security for their lives. This promise was afterwards violated, with the exception of himself and three or four men. Among the slain was Ensign Ronan, Dr. Voorhis, and Capt. Wells. The latter had his heart cut out, and his body received other shocking indignities. The saddest part of the tragedy was the attack on the women and children who occupied the baggage wagons, and were all slain. Several of the women fought with swords. During the action, a sergeant of infantry ran his bayonet through the heart of an Indian who had lifted his tomahawk to strike him; not being able to withdraw the instrument, it served to hold up the Indian, who actually tomahawked him in this position, and both fell dead together.[ [138] The Miamis remained neuter in this massacre. Mr. Kinzie, of Chicago, of whose hospitalities we had partaken, was a witness of this transaction, and furnished the principal facts of this narrative.
The morning (Sept. 1) opened with a perfect gale, and we were degradè, to use a Canadian term, all day; the waves dashed against the shore with a violence that made it impossible to take the lake with canoes, and would have rendered it perilous even to a large vessel. This violence continued, with no perceptible diminution, during the day. As a mode of relief from the tedium of delay, a short excursion was made into the prairie. I found a few species of the unio, in a partially choked up branch of the Konamek. Capt. Douglass improved the time by taking observations for the latitude, and we footed around ten miles of the extreme southern head of the lake. It is edged with sand-hills, bearing pines. A few dead valves of the fresh-water muscle were found on the shore.
On the following day the wind lulled, when we proceeded fifty-four miles, passing in the distance the remains of the schooner Hercules, which went ashore in a gale, in November, 1816, and all on board perished; her mast, pump, spars, and the graves of the passengers, among which, was that of Lieut. W. S. Eveleth, U. S. A., were pointed out to us. We landed a few moments at the entrance of the River du Chemin,[ [139] where the trail to Detroit leaves the lake shore. The distance to that city is estimated at three hundred miles. Ten miles beyond this spot we passed the little River Galien, where, at this time, the town and harbor of New Buffalo, of Michigan, is situated, and we encamped on the shore twelve miles beyond it.
We had been travelling on a slightly curved line from Chicago to the spot, in the latitude of 41° 52´ 20´´, and had now reached a point where the course tends more directly to the northeast and north. By the best accounts, the length of Lake Michigan, lying directly from south to north, is four hundred miles. There is no other lake in America, north or south, which traverses so many degrees of latitude, and we had reason to expect its flora and fauna to denote some striking changes. We had passed down its west, or Wisconsin shore, from Sturgeon Bay, finding it to present a clear margin of forest, with many good harbors, and a fertile, gently undulating surface. But we were now to encounter another cast of scenery. It is manifest, from a survey of the eastern shore of this lake, that the prevalent winds are from the west and northwest, for they have cast up vast sand dunes along the coast, which give it an arid appearance. These dunes are, however, but a hem on the fertile prairie lands, not extending more than half a mile or more, and thus masking the fertile lands. Water, in the shape of lagoons, is often accumulated behind these sand-banks, and the force of the winds is such as to choke and sometimes entirely shut up the mouth of its rivers. We had found this hem of sand-hills extending around the southern shore of the lake from the vicinity of Chicago, and soon found that it gave an appearance of sterility to the country that it by no means merited. On reaching the mouth of St. Joseph's River (3d), a full exemplification of this striking effect of the lake action was exhibited. This is one of the largest rivers of the peninsula, running for more than a hundred and twenty miles through a succession of rich plains and prairies; yet its mouth, which carries a large volume of water into the lake, is rendered difficult of entrance to vessels, and its lake-borders are loaded with drifts of shifting sand.
The next day's journey carried us fifty miles; and, on proceeding ten miles further on the 4th, we reached the mouth of the Kalamazoo.[ [140] Before reaching this river, I discovered on the beach a body of detached orbicular masses of the calcareous marl called septaria—the ludus helmontii of the old mineralogists. On breaking some of these masses, they disclosed small crystalline seams of sulphuret of zinc. The Kalamazoo irrigates a fine tract of the most fertile and beautiful prairies of Michigan, which, at the date of the revision of this journal, is studded with flourishing towns and villages.