DARIUS HEALD'S NARRATIVE OF THE CHICAGO MASSACRE, AS TOLD TO LYMAN C. DRAPER IN 1868[963]
[963] For an account of the two Darius Heald narratives of the massacre see supra, p . 381. The earlier narrative of the two, which is presented here, was related in an interview with Lyman C. Draper in 1868. It is printed here for the first time, from the original manuscript in the Draper Collection. It has never been used by historical writers hitherto, nor, apparently, has the fact of its existence been known.
In a newspaper account preserved by D. Heald, somewhat fragmentary—evidently an obituary notice of Maj. Heald—is the following, supplying a few words toward the close in brackets:
"Maj. Heald was in command of Fort Dearborn, Chicago, in 1812, when an order was presented to him by a British officer [an Indian, Mr. D. Heald believes] from Gen. Hull to deliver up the post, with all the public property therein. The officer was accompanied by several hundred Indians who, after the troops had left the garrison, commenced an indiscriminate massacre of the men, women & children. The Major endeavored to rally the few who were armed, but was so severely wounded in the very outset as to be deprived of every means of resistance. In this situation he was about to be dispatched by some of the Indians and was only saved by the interference of a young man, a half-breed connected with the Indians by the name of Jean Baptist Chandonnis, through whose persuasions & the hope of a considerable reward which he held out to the savages, they were induced to desist from their murderous design, & to take him a prisoner. Mrs. Heald was in the early part of the action separated from her husband & fell in company with her uncle, the late Maj. Wm. Wells, formerly Indian Agent at Fort Wayne. In the running fight which this brave man kept up with a dozen of the Indians, & while dying of the wounds he had received, he killed three of their best warriors, two with his rifle & the third with his dirk. Mrs. Heald was wounded in the breast, in both arms and in the side. To her unshaken [firmness] is she indebted [for the preservation of her own life and that of] her husband [by the aid of] their friend Chandonis."
[From Darius Heald]
Maj. Heald resolved to retire for Detroit. Can't tell when nor where the militia came from who were killed. Wells thought there would be difficulty, yet thought they might effect their escape, & strongly advised the attempt, saying the longer they remained the more Indians there would be ready to intercept them when they should start, as they would have to do when starved out. Thinks there was no opposition to evacuation by any of the officers. Mrs. Heald used so to represent it. Capt. Wm. Wells got there perhaps three or four days before the evacuation, nothing was then destroyed; the secreting the ammunition in the well was after he came, as also the destruction of the whiskey, so the Indians should not have it to infuriate them.
The government Indian goods were distributed to the Indians, who were receiving them as the garrison left. Capt. Wells & the militia were half a mile in advance. The Indians had formed a half circle at the east end of the Lake, & the west end of which was left open for the Americans to enter. They did enter. This half moon trap was about three-fourths of a mile long. Wells discovered them as he neared their upper or western line, the advanced party were fired on, returned the fire & fell back to the main body. Wells gave a signal with his hat before reaching Maj. Heald & the main body. Wells & party yet some distance off, mounted on ponies, waving his hat, indicating that their march was intercepted. Indians' heads now began to pop up all along the line. Then Maj. Heald formed his men in battle line on a sand hill, the wagons were made part of the line of defence. The Indians would get up as near as they could, behind trees, bushes & sand banks to protect them, would fire upon Heald's band, who would repel these attacks. Discovering a short distance ahead a better position for defence, Maj. Heald got the wagons containing sick soldiers, women & children between the troops & the Lake, made a charge, drove the Indians & secured this more desirable position.
The Indians kept crowding up & a running fight took place, seemingly from the fort to where the wagons were. Mrs. Heald found herself in front & near her uncle, who rode up beside her, saying, "My child, I'm mortally wounded." The blood was oozing from his mouth & nose. Shot through the lungs. She inquired if he might not possibly recover. "No, I can't live more than an hour," and added, "My horse is also badly wounded & I fear cannot carry me to where the wagons are. I must hasten." His horse soon fell & caught one of the dying captain's legs under him; but Wells managed to disengage himself. Mrs. Heald now said to him, "See, there are Indians close by." He replied, "I care not. I cannot last but a few minutes; I will sell my life as dearly as possible; as there is no apparent hope for your escape, my dear child, I trust you will die as bravely as a soldier." He now fell to the ground & shot as he lay, with his rifle & then with his pistol, thus dispatching two Indians; while reloading several other Indians came up & laying as if dead he made a last effort, raised his rifle & killed another, then hastily bidding his niece farewell, adding that he had done all he could in his weakness, the advancing Indian host had now come up, readily recognized him, though painted black & dressed like an Indian, & while some of them, disingenuously, treacherously, spoke of saving him, one of their number pointed his gun at Wells' head, seeing which the dying man pointed his finger at his heart, & made a circular motion around the crown of his head, thus indicating where to shoot him, & take his scalp, in another instant he lay in death, when his heart was taken out, cut up into small bits, distributed & eaten, that they might prove as brave as he. His scalp was then torn off, his body well hacked & cut to pieces.
Mrs. Heald received her wonds while close by her brave uncle, three wounds in one arm, one in the other, one cut across her breast, one in her side, only one bone, & that in one of her arms, broken. She stuck to her horse, was surrounded by the savages & taken prisoner. She had no weapon of defense. Doesn't know what Indian took her, except that he was a young chief. She & her horse were led off and taken to where the squaws were. On the way the Indians charged her with being an Ep-i-con-yare—a Wells. This, from supposed policy, she denied. The squaws came out to meet the approaching party, and one of these forest ladies at once commenced pulling out the blanket from under Mrs. Heald, which was spread over the saddle, & on which she sat, when she tried to see if she could use her right hand, which was the least disabled of the two, & plied her riding whip two or three times smartly over the adventurous squaw's bare neck and shoulders, who quickly relinquished her hold and retreated beyond the reach of this white squaw warrior. The young chief who had her in charge let go the bridle & raised a hearty yell of rejoicing at the daring intrepidity of his prisoner, exclaiming, "brave squaw! Epiconyare!" He seemed resolved on protecting & serving her, & appeared to admire her spirit. He would afterwards take the unfortunate squaw, who was supposed to be his wife, & exhibit to the Indians the marks on her shoulders & relate the circumstances of her receiving them, when they would all raise a hearty laugh, which the squaw herself seemed to enjoy as much as the others.
The chief gave directions to the squaws who lifted Mrs. Heald from her horse, to dress the wounds with poultices, which they did, & rendered her condition very comfortable.