The Story of Old Fort Dearborn

by J. Seymour Currey

The boy got into one of the canoes while the man took possession of the other. The stream was narrow and they quickly passed over to the eastern side. Here they pulled some hay from the stacks for the cattle, and made a show of collecting them together, and when they had gradually made a circuit so that their movements were concealed by the haystacks they made a run for the woods which were near at hand and directed their course toward the fort as fast as their legs could carry them.

When they had covered a distance of a quarter of a mile in their flight they heard the sound of two gunshots, which they readily conjectured were fired by the strange Indians upon the two men, Liberty White and the Frenchman Debou. The man and boy did not slacken their speed until they had reached the river somewhere near the present location of State Street bridge. Here they paused long enough to call out to John Burns, then living in a cabin on the north bank of the river near that point, to hasten to the fort with his family, as the Indians were killing and scalping up the river at Lee's place.

Mrs. John Kinzie was at the Burns house at that moment to render what aid she could to Mrs. Burns, who but a few hours before had been delivered of a child. She instantly left the house and ran to her own home, a quarter of a mile distant, to give the alarm and procure help for the sick woman. She found the family awaiting her return, the table spread for supper, while Mr. Kinzie was playing on his violin and the children dancing before the fire.

Rushing into the house, quite out of breath and pale with terror, she was only able to exclaim: "The Indians! the Indians!"

"The Indians? What? Where?" they all demanded at once. Recovering herself for a moment, she replied: "Up at Lee's place, killing and scalping!" She then proceeded to relate that while she was at Burns's house a man and boy were seen running with all speed along the opposite bank of the river; that they had called across the river, warning the Burns family to save themselves, for the Indians were at Lee's place, killing and scalping, and that they themselves had barely been able to make their escape. The man and boy had then continued on their way as fast as they could toward the fort, where they reported the terrifying news to the officers of the garrison.

"All was now consternation and dismay," says the author of Wau-Bun, from which these particulars are gathered. The Kinzie family hurried to the river side and, by means of two old pirogues, or dugouts, that were kept moored near the house, made all possible haste across the river and took refuge in the fort.

We can but faintly realize what a consuming terror seized upon the pioneers when the cry was heard that hostile Indians were coming. Often the alarm and the attack were simultaneous, for however quick and resourceful the whites might be, the savages were superior to them in one respect at least: their stealthy advance and cat-like spring upon their foes usually gave them the advantage at the beginning, which was followed by brutal ferocity and unsparing cruelty in the treatment of their victims.

It was no wonder that Mrs. Kinzie was terrified at the mention of the approach of hostile Indians. In her childhood, as previously related, she had been stolen by a tribe of Seneca Indians in New York State and had lived among them for four years. She knew Indian ways in peace and warfare, and she knew that now at any moment the war-whoop might be heard and the savages be upon them. Not until she had crossed the threshold of the fort gates with her family about her could she feel a sensation of even temporary security.

After the fugitives from Lee's place had reached the fort and related their adventures the order was given to fire the alarm gun for the purpose of giving notice to any who were at a distance from the fort, and especially to the boat party, who were far up the South Branch of the river, that danger was impending.

Energetic measures were at once taken to secure the safety of the helpless Mrs. Burns and her infant. It was the gallant young Ensign Ronan who volunteered for this duty and, with five or six others who joined him, navigated an old scow up the river to the Burns house, took the mother and her infant child, together with the mattress upon which they lay, placed them on the scow, and soon had them within the walls of the fort, where they were tenderly cared for, and where all gathered felt perfectly safe.