[924] Porter, Earliest Religious History of Chicago, 72-74.
In preparation for the payment the traders had ordered large quantities of whisky, anticipating a golden harvest. To their chagrin, however, a strong south wind prevailed for many days, so that no vessels could come up the lake while the Indians were here. Temperance men and Christians rejoiced, while the traders were correspondingly disappointed. In consequence of this "Divine protection" of the Indians, they carried away from Chicago a large amount of the silver which, but for the contrary wind, would have been wasted in revelry and debauchery.[925]
[925] Porter, who wrote many years after the event, states that the amount paid in silver was fifty thousand dollars, and estimates that the savages took away thirty thousand dollars among them.
Two years passed when in the summer of 1835 the natives assembled at Chicago to receive the last payment of their annuity and to prepare for the long journey to their new home beyond the Mississippi. Chicago had long been a favorite resort with the Pottawatomies. Here they had come to hold their councils and to receive their annuities. Here almost a quarter of a century before they had gained their most signal triumph over the race that was crowding them ever westward. Since the last great gathering two years before, the sprawling village had developed into what, to the unsophisticated red man, must have seemed a veritable metropolis. The signs of civilization which it presented to their wondering gaze, although crude enough from the point of view of the twentieth century, must have brought home to them the realization that their birthright had passed into the possession of a mightier race; already they were strangers in the land of their nativity.
As on happier occasions of meeting, however, the Indians danced and sang and drank and fought. Several thousand had assembled,[926] and much the same picturesque and motley scenes were presented as had attended the gathering of 1833. "Some were well dressed, well mounted, and dignified," wrote Porter. "These were, I suppose, civilized and Christianized Indians from St. Joseph. Others were ragged, dirty, half-naked, and drunk, singing their fiendish songs.... Thousands are around us. I can hardly raise my eyes to my window without seeing them in some form—men racing on horseback or women riding by with their heavy panniers full of flour, or beef, or children. Many of the horses have bells on them that are ringing all day. Some of the men and some of the women also have bells on their limbs which ring with each step they take."[927] "A more motley group eye never beheld," wrote the reporter for Chicago's only newspaper, the Weekly Democrat. "Their clothing is of every color, bright red predominating, and bedizened with bracelets, ribbons, and feathers." The reporter dismisses the entire subject of the gathering in a single paragraph, however, in the course of which he nonchalantly imparts the information that "On Monday, we understand that one was tried by his tribe for the murder of a squaw, and sentenced to death. He was shot by the chief a short distance from town."[928]
[926] Jeremiah Porter wrote in his journal at the time, "thousands are around us" (Chicago Times, December 19, 1875). The Chicago Weekly Democrat, August 19, 1835, estimated the number present at from two thousand to four thousand. John Dean Caton, who was a resident of Chicago and deeply interested, in the Indians, puts the number (Miscellanies, 139) at live thousand.
[927] Journal of Jeremiah Porter, in Chicago Times, December 19, 1875.
[928] Chicago Weekly Democrat, August 19, 1835.
Before quitting forever their ancient council ground the warriors indulged in a last great war dance. The matchless charm of Irving has immortalized the Moor's farewell to his beloved land. More dramatic in its picturesque savagery, and worthier far of the life he had led, was the Pottawatomie's farewell to Chicago. Driven westward by the advancing tide of civilization, in the final moments of their expiring tenure of their homeland the warriors gave a demonstration of their devotion to their ancient ideals, by staging before their conquerors such an exhibition of savagery as appalled the stoutest hearts.
As many warriors as could be mustered, about eight hundred in number, assembled in the council house on the north side of the river.[929] Their only covering was a strip of cloth about the loins and a profusion of paint of brilliant colors with which the face and body were hideously decorated. Their hair, long, coarse, and black, was gathered into a scalp lock on top of the head and profusely decorated with hawk and eagle feathers, some strung together so as to extend down the back nearly to the ground. Led by a band of musicians, the procession moved westward from the council house along the bank of the river until the North Branch was reached. Crossing this on the old bridge, it turned to the south along the West Side to the bridge across the South Branch, not far from Lake Street. This was crossed in turn, and the procession moved eastward on Lake Street and came to an end in front of Fort Dearborn.