[897] For the picture that follows I have drawn on the works of Latrobe, Shirreff, and Porter, already cited.
On every hand the camps of the natives were to be seen. The woodlands and prairies surrounding the village, and the sand hills along the lake shore, were studded with their wigwams, while herds of ponies browsed in all directions. Along the river were many groups of tents, constructed of coarse canvas, blankets, and mats, surrounded by poles supporting meat, moccasins, and rags. The confined area within was often covered with half-rotten mats or shavings, over which men, women, children, and baggage sprawled promiscuously.
The treaty-making offered to the red man an opportunity of indulging in an extended carousal. Supplied with food by the commissioners and with liquid refreshment by the traders, for the present his cup of contentment overflowed. Gossiping, gambling, racing, and loafing were the order of the day. "Far and wide the grassy Prairie teemed with figures; warriors, mounted or on foot, squaws, and horses. Here a race between three or four Indian ponies each carrying a double rider, whooping and yelling like fiends. There a solitary horseman with a long spear, turbaned like an Arab, scouring along at full speed; groups of hobbled horses; Indian dogs and children, or a grave conclave of grey chiefs seated on the grass in consultation."[898]
[898] Latrobe, op. cit., II, 210.
Of one of these "grave conclaves" a story has been handed down which smacks strongly of the age of chivalry.[899] Two finely built young men who were the best of friends, the sons of two chiefs, Seebwasen and Sanguanauneebee, were courting the same young squaw, the daughter of Wampum, a Chippewa chief from Sheboygan. The lovers had proposed to decide the question as to which should possess the girl by fighting a duel. Their fathers had submitted this proposition to a council for decision. The result of the weighty deliberation was that the youths should fight to the death, the survivor to take the girl. They were brought before their elders and informed of this decision. Their ponies were brought forth, their manes and tails were decked with ribbons, and the saddles and the duelists themselves with beads, brooches, and other ornaments. After the ponies had been driven once or twice around the council place, the duelists and their friends set out for the place of encounter, swimming their horses across the river, and drew up at an open spot on the north side. Crude flags attached to poles stuck up in the sand gave notice that a fight to the death was impending, while guards were placed to clear a ring for the encounter. Outside the ring, alone, her arms akimbo and her attitude one of indifference, stood the girl over whom the duel was to be waged. The time was an hour before sundown, and four or five hundred spectators, Indians and white men, were gathered around.
[899] For it see Wisconsin Historical Collections, XV, 460-63. The story as at present preserved was told to the secretary of the Wisconsin Historical Society by the son of the Milwaukee trader, Jacques Vieau, who attended the negotiation of the treaty.
One of the duelists wheeled to the right and the other to the left. Then their horses were brought sideways together, head to tail and tail to head. As the signal was given each fighter drew his long-bladed knife. A hubbub arose among the spectators as they clashed, the squaws rending the air with their cries. Thrust followed upon thrust, the blood spurting forth as each blow was given. The bloody work could not continue long, of course. Soon Sanguanauneebee's son cried out in his death agony and toppled over backward, his arm raised for a blow, his opponent's knife in his spine. A moment later Seebwasen's son fell over and died. The girl, bereft of both her lovers, at last manifested some concern, and wrung her hands in frenzy. The assemblage dispersed and the primitive tragedy was ended.
It is painfully evident from a study of the treaty and of the descriptions of the scenes attending its negotiation which have come down to us, that the public sentiment of the frontier had become demoralized by the opportunities for dishonest gain afforded by the cession of the lands belonging to the red man. Unscrupulous individuals were never lacking to take advantage of these opportunities, and others, who under a proper system of administration of affairs pertaining to the Indians would have scorned corrupt practices, permitted their honesty to be undermined by the influence of the example of their fellows in the mad scramble for plunder. The Treaty of 1833 afforded the last, and at the same time the greatest, opportunity at Chicago for individuals to enrich themselves at the expense of the Indians or of the government of the United States. Since both the red man and the government submitted meekly to the process, a carnival of greed and graft ensued.
A set of temporary plank huts had been erected on the north side of the river for the accommodation of the commissioners and their dependents, and a "spacious open shed" had been constructed, also on the north side, to serve as the council house.[900] The commissioners were Governor George B. Porter of Michigan, Thomas J. V. Owen, Indian agent at Chicago, and William Weatherford. About the middle of September they assembled the chiefs in a preliminary council and Governor Porter explained the purpose of the assembly, urging upon them the wisdom of acceding to the government's wishes. The chiefs received the proposal without enthusiasm, disclaiming any desire to part with their lands. The request that they return a prompt answer to the government was negatived with equal decision. The next day they indulged in a "begging dance" through the streets of the town. Half a hundred painted Indians on horseback followed some thirty naked savages on foot, as they danced, whooped, and shouted from the fort down South Water Street, stopping before each door to receive whisky, tobacco, or bread. To the pioneer minister of the gospel who reports the scene they appeared like the very incarnation of evil. Several days passed. In vain the signal gun from the fort boomed out its daily notice of the assemblage of the council, for the chiefs would not assemble. At length, on the afternoon of September 21 they were induced to come together. The council fire was kindled and the commissioners and interpreters gathered at one end of the chamber, while twenty or thirty chieftains occupied the other. The relative positions of the groups of white and red men representing the two races seemed to typify their relation to each other: "The glorious light of the setting sun streaming in under the low roof of the council-house, fell full on the countenances of the former as they faced the West—while the pale light of the East hardly lighted up the dark and painted lineaments of the poor Indians whose souls evidently clave to their birthright in that quarter."[901]
[900] For the further account of the negotiations I have drawn upon the works of Latrobe, Shirreff, and Porter, as before; chiefly, however, upon Latrobe.