GREEN BAY
Our arrival at Green Bay was at an unfortunate moment. It was the time of a treaty between the United States Government and the Menomonees and Wau-ba-na-kees. Consequently, not only the commissioners of the treaty, with their clerks and officials, but traders, claimants, travellers, and idlers innumerable were upon the ground. Most of these were congregated in the only hotel the place afforded. This was a tolerably-sized house near the river-side, and as we entered the long dining-room, cold and dripping from the open boat, we were infinitely amused at the motley assemblage it contained. Various groups were seated around. New comers, like ourselves, stood here and there, for there were not seats enough to accommodate all who sought entertainment. Judge Arndt, the landlord, sat calm and indifferent, his hands in his pockets, exhibiting all the phlegm of a Pennsylvania Dutchman.[[14]]
His fat, notable spouse was trotting round, now stopping to scold about some one who, “burn his skin!” had fallen short in his duty, now laughing good humoredly until her sides shook, at some witticism addressed to her.
She welcomed us very cordially, but to our inquiry, “Can you accommodate us?” her reply was, “Not I. I have got twice as many people now as I know what to do with. I have had to turn my own family out of their quarters, what with the commissioners and the lot of folks that has come in upon us.”
FORT HOWARD IN 1855.
From daguerreotype in possession of Wisconsin Historical Society.
"What are we to do then? It is too late and stormy to go up to Shanty-town[[15]] to seek for lodgings."
“Well, sit you down and take your supper, and we will see what we can do.”