Excepting the four years following the massacre, the Kinzie family resided here until the death of Mr. Kinzie, in 1828, at the age of sixty-five years. His widow and some of his children continued their residence in Chicago until long after the middle of the century.
A few words concerning the earlier life of the remarkable woman who was the wife of John Kinzie will be appropriate in this place. Previous to her marriage to Mr. Kinzie, in 1800, Mrs. Kinzie was a widow, her first husband having been a Captain McKillip, serving in the British army, who had been killed in the year 1794. Her daughter, Margaret McKillip, afterward became the wife of Lieutenant Linai T. Helm, one of the officers at Fort Dearborn.
Mrs. Kinzie's maiden name was Eleanor Lytle, and when a child she lived with her parents in Western Pennsylvania. When but nine years of age she was carried off by Indians and adopted as a sister by a chief of the Seneca tribe. After four years of captivity she was safely restored to her parents. Writing of her experiences at this time, so similar to those of thousands of other children captives, the author of Wau-Bun (who it will be remembered was a daughter-in-law of Mrs. John Kinzie) says: "Four years had now elapsed since the capture of little Nelly. Her heart was by nature warm and affectionate, so that the unbounded tenderness of those she dwelt among had called forth a corresponding feeling of affection in her heart. She regarded the chief and his mother with love and reverence, and had so completely learned their language and customs as almost to have forgotten her own.
"So identified had she become with the tribe that the remembrance of her home and family had nearly faded from her memory; all but her mother—her mother whom she had loved with a strength of affection natural to her warm and ardent character, and to whom her heart still clung with a fondness that no time or change could destroy."
The peace of 1783 between Great Britain and the United States was followed by a general pacification of the Indian tribes, and the chief who held little Nelly captive was invited to a council fire at Fort Niagara by Colonel William Johnson, a man celebrated for his wonderful popularity and influence with the Indians of New York State, and the chief was requested to bring the little captive with him. The invitation was accepted, but not before a promise was made that there should be no effort to reclaim the child.
The parents of the child were anxious to behold once more the form and features of their offspring, and came to Fort Niagara for the purpose. "The time at length arrived," runs the narrative, "when, her heart bounding with joy, little Nelly was placed on horseback to accompany her Indian brother to the great council of the Senecas. She had promised him that she would never leave him without permission, and he relied confidently on her word.
"As the chiefs and warriors arrived in successive bands to meet their 'father,' the agent, at the council fire, how did the anxious hearts of the parents beat with alternate hope and fear! The officers of the fort had kindly given them quarters for the time being, and the ladies, whose sympathies were strongly excited, had accompanied the mother to the place of council, and joined in her longing watch for the first appearance of the band from the Alleghany River.
"At length they were discerned, emerging from the forest on the opposite or American side. Boats were sent across by the commanding officer to bring the chief and his party. The father and mother, attended by all the officers and ladies, stood upon the grassy bank awaiting their approach. They had seen at a glance that the little captive was with them."
The chief held the little maiden's hand while crossing the river, and when the boat touched the bank he saw the child spring forward into the arms of her waiting mother from whom she had been so long separated. When the chief witnessed this outburst of affection he was deeply moved, and could no longer continue steadfast in his resolution to retain possession of the child.
"She shall go," said he. "The mother must have her child again. I will go back alone."