Early in February, 1833, my husband and Lieut. Hunter, in company with one or two others, sat off on a journey to Chicago. That place had become so much of a town, (it contained perhaps fifty inhabitants), that it was necessary for the proprietors of “Kinzie’s Addition” to lay out lots and open streets through their property. All this was accomplished during the present visit.
While they were upon the ground with a surveyor, the attention of my husband was drawn towards a very bright-looking boy in Indian costume, who went hopping along by the side of the assistant who carried the chain, mimicking him as in the course of his operations he cried, “stick!” “stuck!” He inquired who the lad was, and to his surprise learned that he was the brother of the old family servants, Victoire, Geneveive and Baptiste. Tomah, for that was his name, had never been arrayed in civilized costume; he was in blanket and leggins, and had always lived in a wigwam. My husband inquired if he would like to go to Fort Winnebago with him, and learn to be a white boy. The idea pleased him much, and his mother having given her sanction to the arrangement, he was packed in a wagon, with the two gentlemen and their travelling gear, and they set forth on their return journey.
Tomah had been equipped in a jacket and pants, with the other articles of apparel necessary to his new sphere and character. They were near the Aux Plains, and approaching the residence of Glode (Claude) Laframboise, where Tomah knew he should meet acquaintances. He asked leave to get out of the wagon and walk a little way. When they next saw him, he was in full Pottowattamic costume, and although it was bitter winter weather, he had put on his uncomfortable native garb rather than show himself to his old friends in a state of transformation.
On his arrival at Fort Winnebago, our first care was to furnish him with a complete wardrobe, which, having been placed in a box in his sleeping apartment, was put under his charge. Words cannot express his delight as the valuable possessions were confided to him. Every spare moment was devoted to their contemplation. Now and then Tomah would be missing. He was invariably found seated by the side of his little trunk, folding and refolding his clothes, laying them now lengthwise, now crosswise, the happiest of mortals.
The next step was, to teach him to be useful. Such little offices were assigned to him at first as might be supposed not altogether new to him, but we soon observed that when there was anything in the shape of work, Tomah slipt off to bed, even if it were before he had taken his supper. Some fish were given him one evening to scale; it was just at dark; but Tom, according to custom, retired at once to bed.
The cook came to inquire what was to be done. I was under the necessity of calling in my husband’s aid as interpreter. He sent for Tomah. When he came into the parlor, Mr. Kinzie said to him in Pottowattamic:—
“There are some fish, Tomah, in the kitchen, and we want you to scale them.”
“Now?” exclaimed Tom, with an expression of amazement, “it is very late.”
A young lady. Miss Rolette, who was visiting us, and who understood the language, could not refrain from bursting into a laugh at the simplicity with which the words were uttered, and we joined her for sympathy, at which Tom looked a little indignant, but when he understood that it was the white custom to scale the fish at night, and put salt and pepper on them, he was soon reconciled to do his duty in the matter.
His next office was to lay the table. There was a best service of china, which was to be used when we had company, and a best set of teaspoons, which I kept in the drawer of a bureau in my own room above stairs. I was in the habit of keeping this drawer locked, and putting the key under a small clock on the mantel-piece. The first time that I had shown Tomah how to arrange matters for visitors, I had brought the silver and put it on the table myself.