Cook County IL Archives History - Books .....Chicago Antiquities - Part 5 1881 ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/il/ilfiles.htm ************************************************ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Deb Haines ddhaines@gmail.com March 11, 2007, 6:07 pm Book Title: Chicago Antiquities ORIGIN OF THE NAME CHICAGO. Far back of any printed histories which we have, the locality of Chicago, the River and Portage to the Des Plaines, were well known to the nations of red men occupying the country of the Lakes and Upper Mississippi. The name Chicago has been variedly written by early travelers and historians, etc. Commonly, upon the old-time maps, it is printed Chicagou. LaHonton gives the name Chekakou. Marquette, the missionary, speaks of "Chachagwessiou" an Illinois, perhaps a chief, who evidently had a decided taste for trade. DuBuisson, of Detroit, in 1712, tells of a "grand chief" named "Chachagonache" of Illinois. In the Treaty of Greenville, the name was written "Chikajo;" Hon. John Wentworth said, in one of his Lectures, "Gen. Wayne spelled Chicago with a 'j'. The baby's name, in 1795, was 'jo'. He had not got the go then." Some years since, in referring to this subject, we quoted what Mrs. Kinzie had gathered from the Indian tradition, that the place Chicago received its name from a chief who was drowned, a long time past, in the river here. It was perhaps a relief to some sensitive minds, who disliked the fame of a certain animal as well as the odor of a particular vegetable, when "Waubun" gave to the world that traditional account. But whence came the name of the chief? We suggested, when it was urged by some, that a great chief would hardly consent to wear the name of so unsavory an animal as the polecat, even though some of the tribes gave special honor to that quadruped, that possibly the claim of the wild onion might command more respect. Some early traveler we remembered had told that leeks or wild onions were numerous here by the stream. Now, the Chicago River was, in olden time, often called "the Divine River," and (we said) we may, perhaps, be pardoned if we cite a fact, with a feature possibly somewhat analogous, from the banks of the Nile, in Egypt. We have read that, at some former day, along the last-mentioned river, high respect was paid to the onion by the natives, who regarded that bulb as a kind of divinity. But Chicago is an Indian name, and if the riddle—to get at its origin and signification—cannot be solved here, we scarcely need go to the banks of the Nile, or the Connecticut even, for that purpose. Certainly, we have those in Chicago who can talk Chippewa, whoop Dacotah, sing Winnebago, and dance Kickapoo; indeed, there are not a few here with Indian blood in their veins, yet if they cannot help us out of the dilemma, we will endeavor to aid the reader by quoting the following from the press: (From H. R. Schoolcraffs "Oneota") "CHICAGO.—This name, in the lake Algonquin dialects, to preserve the same mode of orthography, is derived from Chicagowunzh—the wild onion, or leek. The orthography is French, as they were the discoverers, etc. Kaug, in those dialects, is a porcupine, and She-kaug a polecat. The analogies in these words are apparent; but whether the onion was named before or after the animal, must be judged, if the age of the derivation be sought for." (From the Historical Mag., vol. 6, p. 258; F. G. Shea, Editor; August, 1862.) "THE MEANING OF CHICAGO.—The following query and its reply appeared in the National Banner, Chicago. Can the position of its editor be sustained? "'What is the signification of the name Chicago? Is it true that it means skunk, or something strong? Whence do we derive the name of our River and City— Chicago? R.' "Reply.—'The name of Garden City is not, as has been represented by various writers, derived from the Indian word Checague, meaning leeks, or wild onions, which formerly grew profusely in this vicinity; nor is it derived from Checague, the Indian name for skunk or polecat, but from Checaqua, a name borne by a long line of chiefs of the Tamaroas, the principal tribe of the Illinois Indians, and signifying strong, mighty, powerful; appellations which the wonderful growth of Chicago in wealth, population, and commercial importance richly entitles her to.'—Nat. Ban. "We fear not. No authorities are cited, and all that we know militate against it. In Chippewa, the skunk is jikag, as spelt by Baraga, in his dictionary, where he expressly says that the name of Chicago is derived from it. Garlic is Figagawani. In a splendid old manuscript, belonging to a gentleman in Brooklyn, N. Y., and containing a very full Illinois dictionary, skunk is tchicac8o; garlic, 8anississia; though chicac8o is given as an improper word for it. If we might conjecture, the name Chicago might come from Chigaakwa or Jigaakwa—the woods are thin; but, as Indian tradition, the source of Baraga's information, gives the derivation from chica8o, which means primarily skunk, and secondly garlic, it would seem to be most likely. The assertion that it is derived from the chief, Chicago, needs proof. Marquette, LaSalle, and his companions mention the "River Chicago under the names Checagou, Chicagou; but, during all that time, there is no allusion to any chief of the Tamaroas by name Chicago; and the Tamaroas dwelt at a distance from Chicago. At a subsequent date, and after the commencement of the 18th century, Chicago (not Checaqua), an Illinois chief, went to France, and the name then first appears as the name of a chief. The next assertion, that in Illinois Chicago means strong, mighty, powerful, is unsupported by the Illinois dictionary, which gives,—powerful, metchikir8o; I am strong, nichin chira8e; I am great, mecha8i. It seems, therefore, necessary to prove— 1st, that there were chiefs of the name of Chicago prior to 1673; 2d, that the Tamaroas resided at Chicago; 3d, that it means strong, great, powerful. It should not be omitted that LeClercq mentions the Chicago as the Divine River. Whether this epithet was intended as an interpretation of the name does not appear. J. G. S." (From His. Mag., vol. 6, p. 358.) "The Rev. Louis Lafleche, a good Cree scholar, in a list of Indian names, with definitions, in the Rapport sur les Missions for April, 1857, Quebec, p. 101, says: Chicago, at the skunk (Cree), from Chikak, skunk; which makes Shikakok in the locative case. B." (From the Chicago Tribune, Aug. 10, 1879.) CHICAGO: Origin and Meaning of the Name. To the Editor of the Tribune. In preparing an article on Chicago, I had occasion, recently, to investigate the original signification and use of the word Chicago. We have had more than a score of lectures and historical sketches, in which the origin of this word has been given, with quotations from various authorities; but I found the discrepancies in these different statements so great that it was not easy to decide on the real meaning of the original words, without looking beyond them. I accordingly directed my inquiries to a master of the Indian tongues, and obtained from him the information I desired. Before presenting his letter, I will first introduce some of the most important notices of the name Chicago that have been published, together with several statements which have been kindly furnished by those who have made this question a matter of special study: The Chicago Magazine for May, 1857, has the following: "Along the shores of the river, among the sedgy grass, the wild onions grew in great abundance. The Indian name for these peculiarly native productions is Chi-ka-go. It was very natural that the Indians should give to this locality that name which more than anything else to their minds gave it character; therefore they called it Chicago. Chi-ca-go-nauk, in the Pottawatomie language, would mean Chicago land, or place." The Hon. Sidney Breese, who settled in Kaskaskia in 1818, recently wrote the Hon. John Wentworth: "I have a copy of a map, which I made from one in the Congressional Library, which I found among the papers of President Jefferson, made in 1685; in which is a place on the lake shore, about where your city now is, marked 'Chicagou'; and Father Louis Vivier, who was a priest at Kaskaskia in 1752, in a letter to his superior, says: 'Chikagou was a celebrated Indian Chief who went to Paris, and the Duchess of Orleans, at Versailles, gave him a splendid snuff-box, which he was proud to exhibit, on his return, to his brother redskins." Mrs. John H. Kinzie, who had peculiar facilities for studying the early history of Chicago, writes in Wau-bun: "The origin of the name Chicago is a subject of discussion; some of the Indians deriving it from the fitch, or polecat, others from the wild onion, with which the woods formerly abounded; but all agree that the place received its name from an old Chief who was drowned in the stream in former times. That this event, although so carefully preserved by tradition, must have occurred in a very remote period, is evident from an old French manuscript brought by Gen. Cass from France. "In this paper, which purports to be a letter from M. de Ligney, at Green Bay, to M. de Siette, among the Illinois, dated as early as 1726, the place is designated as 'Chicagoux.' This orthography is also found in old family letters of the beginning of the present century." From "Discovery and Conquests of the Northwest, with the History of Chicago." By Rums Blanchard: "These unlettered lexicographers gave symbolic names to their rivers, lakes, islands, and to themselves, and in their vocabulary they had the name Chicago, which, in the language of the Illinois tribes, meant an onion. This is all it meant in a positive sense; and by this name the place where our city stands has been known from a period antedating its history. It is highly probable that it was thus named because wild onions grew in great profusion there." Schoolcraft, in his "Thirty Years with the Indian Tribes," under date of 1834, says: "The etymology of Chicago appears to be this: "Chi-cag, Animal of the Leek, or Wild Onion. "Chi-cag-o-wunz, The Wild Leek, or Polecat Plant. Chi-ca-go, Place of the Wild Leek." From Chamberlin's "Chicago and Its Suburbs": "A popular but superficial writer makes even the name Chicago an aboriginal memorial of the repulsive site. So the phrase of euchre-players, sent to Chicago, instead of the coarser word skunked, embodied the same error. But philologists recognize the word Checaqua, through various corruptions, as one of the Indian names of irate Deity,—the thunder god, much like the Scandinavian Thor. The dignity of the name is placed beyond dispute, not only by its etymology, but by the frequency with which, in the old French maps of 1684, 1687, 1688, 1696, etc., the great Mississippi himself is called 'Chacaqua or Divine River.'" Statement of the Hon. William Bross: "All my information gained from the early settlers of the city, and from an examination and comparison of historical records, leads me to believe that Chicago is the Indian name for skunk, and I am confirmed in this opinion by the fact that our Iowa neighbors have a considerable river which they call 'Chicagua or Skunk River.' Mr. Lo and his family are by no means squeamish as to the words they use, as I learned on my recent trip up the Missouri River." Mr. Gurdon S. Hubbard, who is still living, came to Chicago in 1818. He was perfectly familiar with the Indian language, and he now says: "There can be no question as to the word Chicago being an Indian word; and the meaning is skunk, onion, or smelling thing." Mr. A. D. Hager, Secretary of the Chicago Historical Society, says: "I will give it as my opinion that the literal meaning of the word Chicago is strength or strong. Chicago, in its different spellings, meant, in the Indian language, skunk, wild onion, and was also a name applied to a powerful (strong) chief." Dr. William Barry, first Secretary of the Chicago Historical Society, who has given much attention to this question, makes the following statement: "Whatever may have been the etymological meaning of the word Chicago, in its practical use it probably denoted strong or great. The Indians applied this term to the Mississippi River, to thunder, or the voice of the Great Manitou; and, according to Bossu, there was a successive line of Illinois Chiefs bearing the name Chicago, one of whom went to France, and was there honored with a medal." Mr. Edwin Hubbard, the genealogist, adopts a similar view, and says the word Chicago, in its applications, "signified strong, mighty, powerful." After comparing these various opinions, and many others, I wrote to Dr. J. Hammond Trumbull, of Hartford, Conn., who is the highest authority in the country on all questions relating to the Indian tongues. His statement in regard to the etymological derivation of the word Chicago leaves no further question on that point. He writes as follows: "The meaning of the name Chicago is not doubtful. 'Chicagou' (as the French wrote the name) signifies 'The Skunk,'—and cannot be made to signify anything else. It has (with slight modifications of local dialects) this meaning in all Indian languages of that region. "As the name comes to us through the French, the first syllable indicates the French pronunciation of the Indian name. Dr. James, in a note to Tanner's Narrative, 1830, observes that the common Indian pronunciation is 'Shig-gau- go,' and, with the locative inflection *Shiggaugo-ong, at Chicago.' In the same dialect (Chippeway) James writes, 'Shegahg, skunk'; 'Shiggaugawinje, onion, i. e. skunk-weed." Bishop Baraga, in his excellent 'Otchipwe Dictionary,' has Fikag.' [French j= Engl, zh], polecat, fitchat, fitchew,' and notes: 'From this word is derived the name of the City of Chicago.' For garlic or wild onion, he gives 'Figaga-wanj, and kitchi-jigaga-wanj [big skunk-weed], or the garden onion. "Chicagou, as the French name for the river, may be traced back at least to 1679. (See 'Chicago from 1673 t0 1725' by Dr. J. G. Shea, in the Historical Magazine, v., 99—104.) The French learned it from the Miamis, the nearly- related Weas, or the Illinois. 'Chicagou,' who went to France, with other Indians, in 1725, is called 'Chief of the Illinois' (Shea's Charlevoix, vi., 76, note). In the Illinois language, Chicagoua, as Father Gravier wrote it, is the equivalent of the Chippeway Fikag of Baraga, 'bete puante.' "I infer that the appellation of a chief or brave—'The Skunk'— was transferred by the French to the river, and passed from the river to the locality when a French post was established there. "The Rev. James Evans, a Wesleyan Missionary to the Chippeways and Crees of Canada, and a master of both languages, in his Chippeway 'Speller and Interpreter,' printed in 1837, gives the same words (though in a different notation) for 'skunk' and 'onion, leek, skunk-weed,' that are given by Edwin James and Baraga, and in a foot-note to 'Seguug' [=Zhegahg], a skunk, says: 'From this the City of Chicago derives its name.'" In summing up the results, I find the main facts to be these: 1. The original meaning of the word Chicago is skunk. 2. In its uses, it became a synonym of strong, mighty, great, etc. 3. It was applied to the skunk, to the wild onion, to a line of Indian Chiefs, to the Mississippi River, and to thunder, or the voice of the Great Spirit. 4. The place was called Chicago from an Indian Chief of that name, who, at some remote period, was drowned in the river on which Chicago is situated. WH WELLS AUG. 9, 1879. (From the Chicago Tribune, August 75, i8yg.) Origin of the Name " Chicago" CHICAGO, Aug. 13.—I am pleased to see the communication of Mr. W. H. Wells in The Tribune of the 10th inst., in relation to the origin and meaning of the name Chicago, and quoting various expressions of opinion in the matter from sundry individuals. It is well to bring together these views of intelligent persons; though, however learned any may be in Indian philology or etymological derivation, however ingenious may be their hypotheses and inferences, they can tell little to afford us material light beyond what we have had already. Mr. Wells quotes what the Chicago Indians told Mrs. Kinzie; namely: that the place received its name from an old chief, who was drowned in the stream here in former time. This is a pretty story enough; yet Indian gossip called tradition is rather a feeble staff to lean upon, particularly where it reaches back for centuries: and we have "Chicago", with slightly varied orthography, upon the maps for near 200 years. The tale unquestionably has the popular belief, though the early explorers and travelers say nothing of it. The reasonable conclusion must be that the little quadruped, that courageous little rascal known to naturalists by the several names of Viverra Mephitis, Stifling Weasel, Striated Weasel, Mustela Americana, and Mephitis Americana, gave its aboriginal name to the locality, whether it passed directly or by inheritance, as the mantle, or rather blanket, of some big Indian. It is all one and the same name, we suppose, though we find it in old histories and maps in varied forms of orthography, as follows: "Chicagou," "Chicagoux," "Checagou," "Eschecagou," "Les Checagou," "Fort Chicagou," "Point Chicagou River," "Portage de Chegakou," "Chikajo," etc. If, then, our city owes the great debt of its name for all time to that curious and peculiar weasel (thanks to the naturalists for that term; it is not so abrupt a word, and is certainly more poetical than skunk), then let us study up his good qualities; for our municipality may yet with great propriety place upon the city seal or coat-of-arms, as its crest, a portrait of his form. In 1654, New Amsterdam, now the City of New York, had a beaver represented on its seal. When our population reaches a million, it might be a sensible idea to drop that totem of the baby on our city seal. Perhaps I should here apologize to the Hon. John Wentworth, for I am aware of his tender recollections and fondness still for that same baby. Indeed, I remember hearing him speak its lullaby in the words of the old nursery song, beginning, "Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber." For a live, stirring, mighty city like Chicago, perhaps the quadruped would be more appropriate and preferable to the forever sleeping infant. You can seldom catch a weasel asleep. Should it happen that our wise suggestion may be adopted, it will be only a graceful act to extend to those who believe in the garlic theory a braided wreath of the leaves of the leek, to surround the aforesaid city seal. Some, perhaps, claiming it to be more imposing, might prefer the fleur de lis in place of the leek; inasmuch as this plant also used to be abundant here by the stream, and regarding too the historical fact that it was the insignia of Louis the Grand, King of the French, the monarch who owned the soil here in the days when Marquette came. But the French lilies by the Chicago were at length trampled out by the British Lion; and that feline with the shaggy mane was in turn smothered and brushed away by the banner of stars. The leek was our own; and the skunk, or, rather weasel, was and is specially our own by memorable prescription; and we need scarcely recoil at the imaginary fragrance of a name while we have endured for years the literal perfumes of Bridgeport without a riot. The little animal of which I will speak further, I may say, is not an unworthy representative of Chicago in one respect; its enterprise and active arms extend all over the Continent; he is found from Labrador to Chili. His conquests are those of industrious enterprise. He is called a peaceful animal, and no doubt has very correct sentiments regarding justice; he never begins an attack; but we must believe that he might say to his enemies, "Please forbear, else you may get the worst of it, when pop goes the weasel." He makes little noise or bravado; yet he is a plucky tighter. Among the Sioux Indians, skunk skins are a badge of honor; only the tried braves are allowed to wear them on their heels. As for the matter of strength, applied to the skunk, I am inclined to think the claim is not a happy one. Ordinarily, I do not think he is stronger than a woodchuck; and in the exceptional cases his strength is but weakness, causing, if not envy, at least dire animosity among all his neighbors. Therefore I will not make a boast of the strength of our peaceful little warrior. HENRY H. HURLBUT. CANE PRESENTATION, 1863. Archibald Clybourn was born in Giles County, Virginia, August 28, 1802, and reached Chicago August 5, 1823. A party of the friends of Mr. C. mostly old settlers, on the fortieth anniversary of his arrival, and in commemoration of that event, were mindful of the day, and paid him their respects at his residence on Wednesday evening, August 5, 1863. Hon. John Wentworth was chosen Chairman, and Henry M. Hugunin, Esq., Secretary.There were speeches and a supper; fine music was supplied by the Union Band; and the graceful testimonial of a cane was presented to Mr. Clybourn. Mr. Wentworth, on taking the chair, referred to the early-settlement and rapid growth of our City; and, with words highly complimentary to Mr. Clybourn, he added "that he had been called an old settler, and he was one; but, when he came to Chicago, Archibald Clybourn was as well known here as he is now. Last year, the City thought enough of Mr. Clybourn to come out and embrace him—his whole family— homestead and all; he was taken in by the City, and now the citizens had come out to let him take them in." Mr. John H. Kinzie, being called for, spoke briefly, referring to the past of Chicago, and the gathering of our old citizens at this festival. A committee was appointed to enroll the names of the old citizens present, and the presentation speech by Mr. Shuman, and the response by Mr. Clybourn, were as follows: BY MR. SHUMAN: "Mr. Clybourn, a number of your old friends, desirous of testifying to you their appreciation and admiration of your earnest loyalty and plucky patriotism, as displayed on at least one striking occasion since this struggle for our national preservation commenced; and wishing, also, to possess you of a substantial testimonial of their friendship, which, during the many years of their acquaintance and intercourse with you, has ripened into a permanent and precious sentiment, have prepared for you this beautiful cane, which they have delegated me to present to you on this occasion. May it prove a prop to your declining years, as well as be a lasting testimonial from old friends and fellow-citizens who know you well, and who respect and esteem you heartily because they do know you so well. Permit me, sir, both in behalf of those for whom I speak and in my own behalf, to congratulate you upon the many years of life a good Providence has vouchsafed to you, and upon whatever good fortune has attended your forty years' residence here. You have seen Chicago rise and expand, from the nothing it was when you first came here, to be the great metropolis of the West; you have grown with its growth, prospered with its prosperity, rejoiced in its progress. Chicago must be to you like a pet child that has come up to manhood under your watchful eye, and the object of your jealous and honorable pride. May you live to see a continuance of its growth and progress for many years to come. May you live, sir, to celebrate forty more anniversaries here, and so see Chicago the greatest city on the American continent—an event by no means impossible if the future may be judged by its past history. Accept this, sir, as a testimonial of the honest regard of old and true friends." On receiving the cane, Mr. Clybourn said: "MR. SHUMAN AND GENTLEMEN: I accept this cane as a present, and will endeavor to preserve it, and hand it down to my latest posterity. This is the happiest hour of my life. I am happy to see so many old and familiar faces at my own home, and to be so highly and unexpectedly complimented." After briefly referring to the happy days of the past, trying times though they were, he added: "Those who have lived through those days, and are now met together, have a sympathy and fellow-feeling which new-comers cannot understand or appreciate. I will accept this cane, and endeavor never to disgrace it, or incur the displeasure of the donors. I came here from the 'Old Dominion,' which until two years ago had never done a wicked thing. I have always been loyal to the core, and always will be. I cannot express my gratitude to my friends for this token of their remembrance—this magnificent present. I am happy to see every one who has come to see me; and I hope you will all do your best to make yourselves and those around you happy." The cane, a beautiful specimen of manufacture, was of a dense and heavy species of California wood, with a sold gold head, made by the late Isaac Speer, of Chicago, and inscribed as follows: "Presented to A. CLYBOURN, 'the oldest inhabitant,' and the true and fearless patriot, by his friends of Chicago, Aug. 5, 1863." After a short and patriotic speech by Brig.-Gen. John McArthur, the company made a successful charge on the supper-table; and, in the words of Mr. Hugunin, who furnished the report of the proceedings to the Journal, "While it does honor to the giver of the feast, all fervently pray that when his half- century in Chicago is ended he may, in a green old age, again gather around him the many and sincere friends of his youth who may then survive to congratulate him." We will here add, that Mr. Clybourn did not survive to quite reach "his half- century in Chicago," having died at his residence August 23, 1872. We append a part of the names of those who comprised the gathering, omitting the dates of arrival, as given, as the list from which we copy contains various errors: Mr.& Mrs. ARCHIBALD CLYBOURN. JOHN H. KINZIE. S. B. COBB. PHILO CARPENTER. WM. OSBORN. JEROME BEECHER. L. P. HILLIARD. ALEXANDER WOLCOTT. THOMAS CHURCH. JOHN WENTWORTH. J. J. RICHARDS. CALVIN DEWOLF. HENRY M. HUGUNIN. D. C. THATCHER. S. F. GALE. ISAAC SPEER. BENJ'N T. LEE. R. M. HOUGH. WM. H. CLARKE. K. K. JONES. J. W. STEELE. JOEL ELLIS. JOSEPH WILSON. THOMAS SPEER. J. H. FISHER. JAMES LANE. TIMOTHY WRIGHT. WM. H. STOW. JOHN BATES, Jr. J. M. VAN OSDEL. THOMAS M. DOWNING JOEL H. WICKER. W. H. MORRIS. C. P. ALBEE. LUTHER NICHOLS. FERNANDO JONES. LEMUEL BROWN. J. V. BUXTON. Mrs. R. A. KINZIE. Mrs. W. H. ADAMS. Mrs. S. G. PITKIN Mrs. W. ROBINSON. Mrs. MARIA ADAMS. Mrs. EDW. SIMONS. NARROW ESCAPE An early comer tells us of a cholera incident, of 1832, as related to him by a Sergeant in Fort Dearborn, whose name was Carpenter. It was after General Scott's arrival, and the stricken troops were fast dying with the dreadful disease; Serg't C. was on duty one morning, when two soldiers, apparently dead, were ordered to be taken out and thrown into the dead-pit. This grave or pit was a large excavation near Wabash avenue, not far from the river. The stretchers were brought and the bodies taken out to the hole, and one of them thrown in. When they moved toward the other, to put him in, the man turned his head and shoulders, showing plainly that he was alive. The Sergeant said he gave utterance to the sensible remark, "This man is not ready to be buried yet," and ordered him taken back. The fresh air had given him renewed animation, and extended to the supposed dead man a new lease of existence"; for it is understood that he recovered. THE OLD GUN; or, THE "MONS MEG" OF FORT DEARBORN. The inquiry has been made, and which also appears on page 43 of this volume, relative to the whereabouts of a gun, "a part of the armament of Fort Dearborn thrown into the river at the evacuation of 1812." After not a little search, we have had the pleasure of meeting a gentleman whose knowledge of the matter is probably surpassed by none, and to whom we are mainly indebted for the details of this article. It will be proper, however, to say that, since our informant's first acquaintance with the gun, the mists of long years have intervened, which possibly may have dimmed his recollection regarding various particulars, and some of the names and dates may have been misplaced, and a little out of joint; yet, it is our candid and unyielding belief that the greater part, or at least one-half of the story, is reliable, and perfectly true. It has been supposed that there were two cannon sunk in the stream on the eve of the abandonment, in August, 1812; but we are able to tell of the finality of only one. Whether the other still rests in its bed of mud and ooze, just opposite where the sally-port, or rather the northern gate of the Fort, which looked out upon the natural, ample, and ever-flooded ditch that surrounded two sides of the fortress, where it was tumbled and unceremoniously pitched, or else gently lowered, into the water; or whether it has already been fished up; or whether there was really an "other" gun, is what we do not here propose to demonstrate or decide. It was somewhere about the middle of the present century, when Hon. James Curtiss (or, if not he, some one else,) was Mayor of this even then city of lofty aspirations, that a dredge was busily at work scooping up the sand and clay, or whatever might obstruct navigation inside the harbor. Something too unwieldy for the mud-shovel, capacious as it was, to dip up and toss upon the scow, whether it was block, column, bowlder, or anything else that you might have been pleased to suppose it, the dredge encountered. Yet the voluminous spoon scraped around it, and moreover caught on one end and half raised the thing upright in its pit. A pike was brought into requisition, and by that it was allowed that they had found something huge, hard, and heavy; then a chain was lowered, and by hook and coil, or noose, the lasso caught around it. The steam apparatus now began puffing away, and up, up rose the cable, and, dripping with dirt from the water, came also the object referred to, at the lower end of the chain. Avast heaving there that windlass! what have we now? Can it be that we have raised from the depths one of the antideluvians, a fossil sea-dog, perhaps, or a monstrous lizard or salamander? From its head it tapers gradually tail-ward, while two stumps of arms or flippers are plainly to be seen. Or, possibly, it is one of the famed dolphins, with its brilliancy still intact; for we perceive through the covering of mud a golden patch, glittering in the sunshine. Here on the dredge, though, we must remember that we are in classic waters; just ashore there was the old Fort Dearborn; its site was within the lines of the present enclosure; it was once the citadel as well as forum of this more-to-be-than-imperial Rome. Our thoughts turn back to the time of the older Whistler, the builder of the fortress, who was once a British soldier, captured with Burgoyne at Saratoga. Subsequently, in the U. S Army, he was wounded in St. Clair's conflict and defeat in November, '91. Yet afterward, no doubt, within the stockade of Fort Dearborn, he cordially received Meche-cunnaqua the renowned Little Turtle, who had been the leader of the enemy in the disastrous field above named. Little Turtle was frequently at Chicago; after the Treaty at Greenville, he was ever the fast friend of our Government and the American people. There were other famed commandants and noted chiefs who met on that arena, yet we cannot here attempt an imperfect catalogue even, of the celebrities of our storied fortress; but may say that there have been giants here in past days. Inanimate objects often acquire, from their human associations, distinguished and greatest value. Comprehending the situation, therefore, and the nature of the particular prize just fished up, we are forced to assert, that never before nor since in Chicago has there hung, suspended from a crane derrick, so remarkable a memento, so much embodied yet unwritten history. So lower away there! This was done, and the find was laid upon the deck, and washed without and within, showing a bright and beautiful piece of brass ordnance, understood to be a six-pounder, and bearing upon its face, our informant assures us, an etched representation of the British Crown. The news of the recovery of the gun soon reached the ears of the city authorities; and we beg to remark, that there is just here a most excellent opportunity to recite a homily, and that such an effort would be appropriate and expedient if the discouraging fact did not stare us in the face, that of the great mass of homilies delivered, but a small fraction of them are ever heeded or followed. Yet on the present occasion there were principles, good sense, and good manners involved, the same as in those of some greater events in the history of nations, of which we have some knowledge. There is often no occasion to distinguish between royalty or republicanism, between monarchical and aristocratical illiberality, or the tyranny of democratic and official despotism, whether attending the* nations, states, or municipalities. These remarks are occasioned by the assurance which we have, that no thanks by the city government or any other government were given to those who lifted the cannon up from the river bed into daylight; no compliments were made through the press; no polite note written at the instance of the citv or national authorities concerning the transfer of the piece; no public reception was suggested where every citizen should be invited, when the mounted gun, revered by the patriot, caressed by the children, arrayed with flowers and garlanded with speeches, might respond to the crowd in its own emphatic language. It may be reasonably supposed, that the War Department or General Government had the best legal title to the cannon; it was said that the City ordered that dredge work, which very likely it did, and possibly considered that its claim surpassed all others. At any rate, the City Marshal, Ambrose Burnam, suddenly appeared upon the dredge and took possession of the piece, and had it landed on the North Side; but, like any common plunder, he dumped it into the tool- house, a small, low, wooden building just below Scranton's rope-ferry, where Rush Street bridge is now. It is not strange, that the individual most active in the resurrection of the piece was somewhat annoyed at the course matters had taken; and the sentiment did not slumber, but rankled in the heart that felt itself wronged. Whether or no partisanship or political animosities helped to bind the sheaf of conspirators from the outset, we will not say; though the political complexion of most of the band, subsequently, might seem to warrant that inference. Morgan L. Shapley, it is understood, was connected with the dredge, and was the one especially aggrieved, and was the one foremost in planning the scheme of attack and reprisal. He had no difficulty in presenting reasons sufficient to secure the sympathy and aid of a few enterprising and kindred spirits. Of these were Captain Fred. Wheeler, of one of the lake steamers, and David C. Thatcher, of Chicago, besides several others. We may say, that it was but an act of ordinary politeness to knock at the door of that shanty for admittance; but, as no answering word of welcome came, the door mysteriously swung upon its hinges, and the relief squad filed in. It was not a large yawl that Captain Wheeler furnished for the expedition that evening; and we will here refer to the fact, that before the cargo was quite in position on board, and the crew in place, the weighty cylinder slid or shifted upon a block beneath, and came near swamping or upsetting the craft and all on board, seriously jeopardizing life, limb, and the pleasant progress of the adventure. Yet an equilibrium was mastered at length; and, with oars in row-locks, and her prow turned westward, we will say that gently and steadily the boat moved up the stream. We have the best of evidence that the evening was bright and calm; and it is not surprising, with mind pervaded by the fact that they had luckily escaped a damp and unpleasant, if not a more serious, accident, and with the peaceful and lovely surroundings of that beautiful night, that one of the party should begin the recital of the fine lines of Charles Wolf, namely: "The Burial of Sir John Moore," commencing,—" Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the ramparts we hurried." The rehearsal of the full eight stanzas was scarcely finished when they had arrived at Lake street, where, near the corner of Market (as many will remember), stood the old red warehouse, at that time occupied by Captain R. C. Bristol.* There, under the rather open wharf, the gun was settled down beneath the surface of the water. Many, no doubt, will remember a peculiar-looking class of water craft which, more than thirty years ago, navigated our river. There were dozens of them, and generally manned by rough-looking, half-grown youngsters. Always guiltless of paint, they bore invariably a genuine mud tint, or rat color, indeed they were called "wharf rats;" and such was their construction, hollowed out of a small log in the form of a pirogue, (never more than ten feet long by fifteen,inches in breadth), they could run their heads into almost any place which might receive their prototypes, the rodents. Numerous half-built and incompletely piled wharves gave them caves for shelter, and to hide their plunder. Whatever their masters may have claimed to follow as their occupation, it was generally understood to be that of freebooters and pirates, whose hands were given to the weakness of appropriating other folks' goods. Anything lying around loose, that was portable, had wonderful attraction for them: and the boats referred to, though crank as cockle-shells, yet, in their capacity for freight, it was wonderful how much they would carry. * Robert C. Bristol, in 1834, in the Brig John Kinzie, of which vessel he was master (built the year previous under his direction), took from Grand River, Mich., the first cargo of wheat from Lake Michigan. The amount was about 2000 bushels. Well, though covered when left there the evening before, the water had now fallen away, by a change in the wind perhaps, and left the gun uncovered, or at least partly exposed; and the pirates of the pirogues had discovered it, and what they judged would be a rare prize. A very good joke is told of Alexander the Great, that he shed tears, indeed that he audibly boo-hoo-ed, when, in one of his unusual or sober moments, he was given to understand that there were no more worlds to conquer. Rather covetous that, it seems to us, in Alexander; yet there is no limit to human or inhuman desire or ambition to acquire and accumulate; and it was an incident not devoid of the humorous, that those juvenile thugs spoken of were intending to carry off the cannon, maugre its heftiness, at an early opportunity, in one of their diminutive pirogues. Members of the "club" were on the alert, however, and claimed, or rather took, precedence, and secured the services of a dray, or stone - wagon, and at evening removed the piece to the hardware store of Jonas Clark (or, if it was not Clark, then possibly it was some other Jonas). This store was at or near the old Sauganash corner, where, sought to be hidden under a pile of axehelves, shovels, and tin-ware, it was temporarily deposited. It seemed, however, to Clark (or Jonas), and particularly to any of the league who might have ostensibly called in to buy a jack-knife or a cork-screw, that there was a strange and special desire among the customers generally to purchase or examine goods in that particular pile over the gun more than anywhere else about the store. So it was solemnly decided by the aforesaid league, in a whispered wayside conference, to remove the gun from this public place at least; and we are reminded, at this particular point of the gun's history, of the line,— "Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." James D. Merritt owned some lots on the west side of the river not far from the cor. of Canal and west Adams Streets; and thence it was decided to take the cannon and bury it. This was done on the first favorable evening, a pit being dug; and there, some three feet below the surface, it was left and covered, though without tablet or memorial stone to mark the spot where it was planted. For the movement just described, there seemed several cogent reasons, the principal one being that no city government, "nor any other man," should recapture the gun. The authorities, as may be supposed, were not remiss in efforts to learn its whereabouts and who the culprits were; yet it seemed that not a soul knew anything about it, and of course no one had aught to communicate. Still, the burthen of the matter was ill at rest; and, we may say, it bore down with leaden weight sometimes on the nervous organs of various members of the lodge or clique. But mutual sympathy acted the part of the good Samaritan, and poured oil into all imaginary gun wounds. It is proper to add that our club took into its companionship various others, who were gentlemen of similar tastes, frequently benevolent and kind toothers' faults; but still it is believed their fun-loving proclivities were a marked trait, even to the immolation of their victims sometimes.* If it * Endeavoring to illustrate a point or statement in the text, we will say that George Wandall kept a fruit stand on Randolph street, between Franklin and Market streets; but, like some others, he possessed an enterprising turn of mind, and it probably occurred to him that an institution something after the plan of the Zoological Garden at Regent's Park, London, was a desideratum in this city of the lakes, and not only would it be a public beneficence, but a paying affair for his own cash box. With this idea, George abandoned fruit and struck out for fur; that is, he made determined efforts to collect various specimens of wild animals, and for that purpose we believe he visited St. Louis, at any rate he returned here, after a month or so, with a consignment of wonders, the like whereof, George flattered himself, had rarely been seen in Chicago. There was a vacant lot on the S.-E. corner of Randolph and State streets, where the new Music Hall is (1879) being erected, and it was there where Wandall built his show-house. The structure was rather an indifferent one, its form octagonal perhaps, merely a rough board fence carried up six or eight feet, and above that a circular canvas, terminating at an apex or top of the pole in the centre of the arena. Here, we may say, was gathered the first resident menagerie of Chicago. The collection we are able to name only in part; but there was a wolf, and a bear, a deer, and a raccoon, a few squirrels, and a pair of guinea-pigs, a horned frog, and a horned owl, a few white mice, a small monkey, and a big anthered elk. It was something of an achievement for Chicago to have its own abiding collection in natural history, and the enterprise seemed to deserve support; so thought a knot of "the boys," a dozen or so, who were together that first evening the show was to be opened; among them, probably, were Miner, Graves, Russell, Kennedy, and Rew. Thereupon the squad marched over to the menagerie, with amiable feelings toward all the animals; and it is to be supposed, perhaps, that they had ready a "how d'ye do" for the wolf, a shake of the paw for the bear, some nuts for the squirrels, a little cake for the monkey, and a few words of encouragement for the towering elk, hoping he might grow to be a giraffe. But the boys had a set- back when they came to the gateway. The payment of entrance money was not a part of their programme; they came to patronize, not to pay. Remonstrance was of no avail; with "the boys" it was out or in, and they decided it was in, and in they went. But they turned over the hurdy-gurdy, cuffed the ears of the owl, threw snuff in the wolf's nostrils, upset the squirrel cage, kicked the bear in the rear, twisted the monkey's tail, and dashed a bucket of water on the coon. Then one of the party (Doc. Norman Rew) mounted the elk's back, which animal they forthwith led into the street, and down State to Lake street. If there had been forty howling dervishes, or that number of yelling Comanche Indians in the procession, the noise would not have been greater. It will be sufficient to inform the reader that Rew rode the elk about until he at last brought up at the Washington Coffee-House, or some other coffee-house (which was anything else rather than a coffee-house), located in the second story of a building in the neighborhood, for the elk went upstairs, whether voluntarily or otherwise, we may say. horns and all. Our informant gave us to understand that Wandall did not lose anything after all on this opening night; when the spree was over, a purse was made up for the pioneer menagerie man. may be suggested that further names of those connected with the "club," if given, would make the reader any happier, we will say that we have a list of such persons, but cannot say that all of them were received into full membership. Among those names we observe Wilson, Smith, Harris, Mcllrby, Edwards, Ballingal, Tracy, Meeker, Forest, Miner, Beers, Rew, Dean,* Russell, Graves. We may add that there * Philip Dean was a street commissioner. To his name attaches the fame of a most decisive and happy expedient. We may here remark, that the dog nuisance in those days was a rather perplexing question to the city authorities. It was not without frequent disturbance when the properly commissioned agents, the police, aimed at their duty by rapping the bow-wo-jus on the head with their billy-thumpers. The tie which bound the master to his canine friend would not, sometimes, be lightly severed; and hence quarrels and fights ensued. Then in place of the bludgeon came the revolver; but that mode of extermination, if less frightful to the dogs, was not so to the masters, and upon the whole was more unsatisfactory. It was Dean, however, that now suggested a mode of exit that seemed apparently causeless, noiseless, effectual, and speedy. Small but powerful doses, disguised in a pleasant and pretentious fraud of appearance, were placed here and there upon the highway; and it was quite as much a mistake with the dogs, when they seized and swallowed those inviting little parcels, as it often is with many of the human family, who partake of what is seemingly attractive, to their great and lasting detriment. were prominent men, brilliant men, keen and skilful men; there were men of means,—enterprising and public-spirited, as well as some of a varied fabric,— men of great exuberance of good feelings, but yet of slight, or indeed, either present or prospective, of no pecuniary estate. We might reasonably, perhaps, add to these names those of the proprietors of the most prominent drinking places in town, such as the "European Coffee- House" "Exchange" "Lafayette" "Washington" etc., all coffee-houses. Those last- named gentlemen, perhaps we might say, were the honorary members of the club. If it is objected to by some that we are giving undue prominence to the drinking halls, we answer that those institutions bore an important part (though a melancholy one) in the history of the Town. They were the pioneers, the vanguard of the hydra-headed, the many thousands, indeed, of whiskey temples which since then have here reared their crests. In writing about the gun, there appeared relationships, and ties, and identities, which we deemed it proper to allude to, which cords held men together, of yet very different positions in society. We do not speak merely of those who took the cannon from the tool-house, but of various others, whether linked together by that particular secret of the gun, or by political affinity, or by the still broader bond of fun, conviviality, and drink.* * In this connection we will speak of two individuals who might not improperly be classed with those "infinite wit and humor" gentlemen that we read of; and it is understood that they were so immensely entertaining, so takingly and desperately comic, that this pair of practical jokers were kept and furnished, supplied and provided for, by a ring of Chicago fun-lovers. The names of the pair were Timothy Wait and Jack Cox. The first-named was a bar-tender, and the other was a tailor; but the demands upon their time outside of their ordinary calling were so numerous, that they left their occupations and devoted their whole time (as though such employment was the main purpose in the life of a human being) to witticisms and jokes, to playing rigs and sells, and enjoying the boisterous approval of their audience, and the gratuitous stimulant of drink which invariably followed. We will here cite a little incident to show the drift of humor in which that pair traveled. Tim Wait was blessed (or cursed, which?) with the natural gift or ability of turning up and inside out the upper lids of his eyes, presenting a most comical and rather frightful appearance; not only that, but he could displace, or throw out of joint, his jawbone, and in such condition could, it is said, play a tune to perfection on those jaw-vial castinets. Dr. Daniel Brainard, the distinguished surgeon of this City, had just returned from his first visit to Paris, where he had been to improve himself in the line of his profession. Not as many Chicagoans at that day visited Europe as now, and Brainard certainly was talked of as a notable individual. Wait was also a personage of some prominence; that might be inferred from the fact that a second-story drinking-room, with which Wait was or had been connected, presented a sign marked "Tim Wait is up stairs;" the information so conveyed was considered an important and thoughtful decoy. Seeing Brainard coming on the street one day soon after his return, Wait muttered to his associates the suggestion and determination to appeal to him at once (a fraud of course) for relief to his eyes. Followed by several of his admirers, Wait immediately started off to meet the Doctor, at the same time turning up his eyelids, and in the pitiable appearance peculiar to himself, with eyes blear and bloodshot, he stopt directly in front of him, which of necessity occasioned a halt, and in the supposed newly acquired pronunciation of the Doctor's name, he said: "Doctor Brenard, bless yer soul, I'm glad yer back. Oh, me ailin' sick wife and seven childer cryin' for brid; an' Doctor, can yer do suthin' for me poor lids?" Brainard at once attempted a slight or superficial examination, and proceeded to manipulate and turn down one of the lids to its proper place, and then the other also; but, queerly enough, when he had turned down the second, up again went the other. This was repeated several times, but before the Doctor had expressed any opinion as to the case, the laughter of Wait's companions who had gathered around could no longer be suppressed; and as Tim beat off the beautiful old air known as "The Devil's Dream," in the music of his jawbone, the Doctor walked statelily away, thinking no doubt that he had returned to encounter those, occasionally, who were scarcely provided with French forbearance or Parisian good manners. It was perhaps three full years or more since the gun had been left on the West Side; and the question was frequently brought up, what should they do with it? Many suggestions were made; one of these was, that on the following 4th of July there should be a rousing celebration; that the gun should be brought out and presented to the people. Lisle Smith, the matchless orator, was to be applied to to address them on the occasion; indeed, we believe Smith was consulted on the subject, and to which he agreed. Yet, other counsels prevailed. What fear of coup de mam from unknown quarter, what terror of possible ridicule to come, what bitter, lingering insult there may have been to avenge, or what other cause influenced each individual decision, cannot now be learned. It is enough to know that they concluded to sell the piece to be broken up; for that purpose, Charley Beers was authorized to ascertain what he could get for it. Beers applied not only to Nugent & Owens, but to Fred. Letz, a worker also in brass, etc.; but,- as the ready cash funds of the latter did not enable him to swing it, the offer of N. & O. was accepted. Then a select number of the club had to be notified, a negro drayman (for certain legal and prudential reasons) was to be employed, all to meet on the first dark night, with suitable tools for excavation, near Adams street, a little west of the river; which plan was so far carried out. But those whose presence at the interment should have enabled them to point out the spot, seemed incompetent to do so; the grass and weeds had hidden it entirely. One spoke of having lately seen, at the "European" saloon, a quantity of unfinished or unused pigeon-hole Miliary-cues of uncommon length. The rods were sent for, and each having received one they commenced prospecting, and after a long search they touched the metal, though we are assured that it had settled full two feet lower than where originally placed. Then the shovels and the ropes and considerable work brought it up and loaded it on the cart, where, covered with a quantity of burlaps, it began its final march across Randolph Street bridge, and thence to the brass foundery of N. & O., which was a brick building on the S.-E. corner of Washington and Market Streets. Charley Beers was awaiting its arrival on Market street to look after its reception, and with hushed steps the party moved off, but not one of the escort presumed to whistle "Over the river to Charley." The proceeds of the sale, for which Messrs. N. & O. gave their check on R. K. Swift, Banker, was a mere trifle, being in amount only between 35 and 40 dollars. It will be needless to say that the purchasers were not losers in the operation, inasmuch as the material was really worth many times what they paid. The gun was of superior metal; and it is understood that the bulk of it helped to form the structure of more than one church bell of the City; and in such shape, a dim, unrecognizable representative of the past, now in spirit tones did it hint, not so much of the past as to a coming future. We are told that a meeting of the club was had for the purpose of dividing and distributing to the members the "thirty pieces of silver," more or less, received from the sale of the cannon. That proposition, however, failed, and it was at length agreed to have a gathering at the saloon under the Sherman House, and then and there settle and wipe out every vestige of a balance remaining in the hands of the treasurer. "That 'gathering' was had," said our informant; "and if the occasion could not have been properly denominated a 'blowout,' there were, in those days, scarcely any that could." Now here we may as well as anywhere say for ourself, looking to the result and culmination of the matter, in the destruction of a truly venerable relic, we must esteem the affair as (where human life was not involved) the most unfortunate and profitless piece of deviltry ever perpetrated within our borders. Probably to the average loiterer and humorist there might have seemed something extremely ludicrous in that filibustering expedition, extending through several years, starting out with a corps of six or seven full-grown, athletic men, who tugged repeatedly with might and main at a dead weight of near half a ton, removing and hiding it again and again. However reliable masons they proved themselves in keeping a secret that year or two, and still on for more than a generation, they sometimes, and occasionally (until convinced that no open-mouthed and brazen-faced witness might appear against them), were followed by that "Will-o'-the-wisp" trepidation and nervousness, the same as dogs the steps of an escaped convict, or perhaps somewhat identical with the feelings of a burglar, who thinks it more difficult to hide than to steal. They felt, perhaps, impressed with the idea of—" Cannon to the right of them, " Cannon to the left of them, "Cannon in front of them." That abiding consciousness of mischief would not be laid any more than the gun, though it tarried several feet under ground, over there in the west division for two years or more. And what a chase for that hidden deposit on the prairie; no seekers, with rod of witch-hazel or of steel, hunting for old Kidd's sunken chests of coin along the shores of the Sound, were ever more in doubt, whether or no they should touch the chink, than were our stake-drivers on that ebon night, punching and probing the mud up there by the South Branch. But the acme of the sublime as well as the ludicrous was when the cannon was carted down to the foundry, — that charnel-house of effaced identities, the place of chisel, sledgehammer, and heated crucible,—on that chosen night, as dark as Erebus; the reins being held by an alien, a child of darkness, selected because unrecognized as a citizen, and whose oath, though his word was reliable, the laws of Illinois would not allow to convict a white man. What a solemn procession it was, following that dray through the blackness of that midnight hour, each still armed with his baton or ashen treasure-wand, and each ready to utter,—" Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door." Another phase attending the movements of the league or club, which we have already hinted at, was that of their convivial and bacchanalian proclivities. That the gentlemen comprising the club were of a generous nature, liberal and whole souled, cannot be questioned; but it has been sometimes suggested, that such natures are the least inclined to observe the restraints which repel the approaches of the siren strong drink. Be that as it may, Chicago then as now presented as ready facilities for a dram, or a moderate carouse, or a decided drunk, or, indeed, for a rapid and sure down-grade track to ruin, as any other town of its size. We were once told by a lawyer, an old-time resident of Chicago, that all the early lawyers here were drinking men, "and," said he, "I was one of them." While we know that this charge was too broad a one, for we are aware at least of some marked exceptions, yet - the habit was sufficiently general with those professional worthies (not that it was peculiar to them only) as to give occasion to the saying. As with some others, so with the club; suspicion was bearded and courage invoked in drinks; when friends met, they took a drink; if there was any important news, they must drink; if a neighbor was showing up the town to a stranger, his introduction was marked by the drinks; if a sale of real estate was made, then came the drinks; if success of any kind met a friend, why of course then followed the drinks; again, if misfortune touched him, there was sympathy and drinks. Political tastes were supposed to be confirmed and allies won by drinks. The political complexion of "the club," we may say, was, for a time at least, whig to a man; there were whig speeches, whig songs, whig toasts, "whig lies," also, the Democrats used to say, and whig whiskey. We will add that they were industrious workers in the whig cause, and that a fundamental pillar upon which rested their political creed was (then, not to-day) a most lively and cordial hatred of John Wentworth. Sundry individuals not initiated or taken within the inner veil of the mysteries regarding the various and latter places of deposit of the old arm—yet to all appearance they were members of the ring, for they never missed roll-call, or rather intuitively happened around, whenever the drinks might be expected. Abraham Lincoln, we will say, was frequently in Chicago on professional business in those days. He was then scarcely counted more than a second or third rate lawyer; but he was noted as a story-teller, and often on pleasant evenings he chose to sit out upon the sidewalk in front of the old wooden Tremont (sometimes he sojourned at the American Temperance House, but generally at the Tremont), where, surrounded by a knot of listeners, he dispensed numerous and amusing yarns, of which he seemed to possess an inexhaustible supply. He was seldom heard to tell the same story twice. But we are led to say, possibly it may have been one of the important underlying rock- strata which bore up the manliness of character and the greatness of Mr. Lincoln, that he never joined in that social error of tippling so common in Chicago as well as elsewhere. It is time this extended article came to an end; we would much rather have placed on this page a drawn portrait of the living gun than to have written of its departure,—its extinction. It may be that we are singular in our ideas, and are, perhaps, rather a desperate and headlong rider of our hobby "antiquities;" but our native stock or catalogue of antiques is, we think, rather a limited one. Certainly we have little of the unchanged, the peculiar, and recognizable antiquities of early Chicago. What there are left, excepting the fleeting lives of a few remaining pioneers, are mostly but memories and pictures and shadows. We have, it is true, old Lake Michigan; but our river is not what it was; its debouchure is changed, its banks are clipped and cribbed, and its waters, though once drinkable, are not so to-day. And Fort Dearborn is no more. The Indian tribes, too, have departed; and none are with us, unless we except those stark and grinning plaster synonyms or abominations in the guise of a plea for a vile narcotic; our native groves are all gone; neither dwelling, workshop, storehouse, or temple built with hands, bearing earlier date than 1833, exists; not one of those memorable sloughs of the South Division remain; not even a fence-rail is now, as formerly, sometimes seen placed upright in the mire of Lake street, bearing a strip of board with the topographical suggestion "No Bottom." Indeed, we claim to have hidden, under a depth of some six feet of earth, the whole original prairie and City surface. Before we close, we take the opportunity to say that it was not true, as sometimes asserted, that this was the gun which was fired on the Court House Square, on the receipt of the news of the victory of Buena Vista, in the latter part of February, 1847, and seriously maimed the late Richard L. Wilson. It was also a mistake of an "old settler," referring to this cannon in the Tribune, August, 1877, when he said, "After being used firing salutes for awhile, it was probably carried off by some vessel." The evidence seems unquestionable that the gun fired no salutes after the month of August, 1812. We do not propose to write the epitaph of the old field-piece, yet will conclude by saying that often, in after time, as the Sabbath-bells were ringing for church, when any members of the club happened to meet, it was quite usual for one or the other to exclaim: "Do you hear it ? that is the voice of our gun." P. O. EQUIPMENTS IN 1832. It was on one of those primitive days in the fall of the year 1832, as we were told by an early settler, that he (our informant) was somewhat impressed by the peculiar customs of the Chicago Post-office, which was then located in a log building at the angle of Lake and South Water streets, and where John S. C. Hogan was then a merchant, as well as postmaster. The manner of keeping the letters and papers for delivery to their proper owners might have been characterized, perhaps, as a little loose, the whole stock (a mere handful, it is true,) being chucked into a corner upon a shelf. Our informant rallied the worthy office-holder upon the point of order, assuring him that he was sadly behind the times, saying, furthermore, that in the country from which he came, the postmasters usually provided boxes, sometimes called pigeon-holes, wherein might be placed the mail matter belonging to various individuals or firms, and having others alphabetically arranged, etc. This onslaught speedily produced a revolution; and, though there was not, perhaps, within the boundaries of Cook County, a professional cabinet-maker,— certainly not one at hand,—yet, the ingenuity of that government official improvised a substitute. We refer to the forcible conscription into the public service, and the utilizing, all the old boots readily to be found in the settlement. From those venerable mud-mixers, a part of the legs were taken off; and, nailing up the lower part at the back to a log (a portion of the main wall of the building), the improved institution was moving onward upon the tide of successful achievement when our informant again called for his mail. SOCIAL PROFANITY; JUDICIAL PROPRIETY. An early settler of Chicago, tells us about His Honor T. W. S., a former resident here, and one of the shining lights of the Illinois Bench some years ago. We are assured that the Judge was "rather a jovial sort of man, quite a political manager, and withal, to the unprofessional and common-sense crowd at least, a good judge." But eminent position, as we often see, is not exempt from human frailty; and so we are told that Judge S. had at least one besetting sin and folly. In his ordinary intercourse with men, his language too often savored of the sort known as the very profane. Upon the bench, however, he was a different individual. It is remembered that on one occasion at Chicago, a suit was being tried before him, between parties from the interior, concerning the ownership of some cattle. One witness described the different cattle, telling their various colors, etc.; then came on the stand another witness, whom our informant characterized as "a tall, lank, and lantern-jawed Hoosier, indeed the worst-looking Hoosier that I ever saw;" and the Judge, after some questions by one of the counsel, began asking the witness in relation to the color of the cattle, as given in the evidence of the previous witness. "Wal," said the Hoosier, "them cattle was so d----d poor, I reckon I couldn't tell what color they was." "Clerk," said the Judge directly but dignifiedly, "enter a fine of ten dollars to this witness for profane swearing; and you, Mr. Sheriff, will commit him to jail till the fine shall be paid." The witness, however, passed over an X bearing the signature of N. Biddle, Pres., for it was in the old days of the U. S. Bank. As already intimated above, Judge S. was a politician; and it will, perhaps, illustrate one of the ways of that enterprising class of citizens, to quote another incident of Chicago of long ago. An early Chicago resident, the late Archibald Clybourn, related that he once met Judge S. at Ike Cook's saloon, on an evening, together with quite a crowd, composed mostly of that genial class of democrats known as Irishmen, and who were evidently great admirers of the Judge, and were eager listeners to all that fell from his lips. After a while Clybourn said to S.: "Come, Judge, it's time that you and I were at home." "Home!" replied the Judge, straightening himself up to his full height, "I have just ordered supper for my friends here;" and then, in a whisper close to Clybourn's ear, he added, "I shall have use for these cattle in November." NOTICES OF CHICAGO AND ITS VICINITY. BY EARLY TRAVELERS, ETC. In the present chapter, we give various extracts relating to this locality, written by missionaries, sojourners, travelers, historians, etc., and reaching from the time when Joliet and Marquette passed through here in 1673, down to the year 1835, when the Indians danced here their last great dance, before their departure toward the setting sun. Louis Joliet and James Marquette, on their return from the Mississippi, as we have elsewhere said, "came by way of the Illinois, the Desplaines, and Chicago. As far as satisfactorily proven, they were the first white men who placed foot upon the soil, or voyaged upon the stream, at Chicago. I am aware that Charlevoix tells that Nicholas Perot was here several years before them, but Dr. Shea, the editor of a late edition of Charlevoix, claims that the source of Charlevoix's information does not warrant the statement. I am inclined to think, however, thak it would appear, could we arrive at the truth of the case, that more than one white man had been at Chicago before either Joliet, Marquette, or Perot, even if the latter may have been here in 1671. We are assured that Jean Nicolet, a Frenchman, an envoy from Canada, was at Green Bay in the year 1639, where he held a treaty with several thousand Indians. This council was held purposely to form a reciprocal and friendly acquaintance with the natives whose country bordered on the great upper lakes. It was designed to extend the dominion of the French King, Louis XIII., and specially and directly to aid and further the traffic of Canadian merchants, who wished to furnish their red brothers of the wilderness, in exchange for furs, the conveniences and luxuries, as well as the gauds and taints, of civilization. Nicolet, on this visit, crossed the portage to the Wisconsin, but we are not advised that any of his party went further south. Yet I am loth to believe that thirty years passed away, after Nicolet's introduction at Green Bay, before any Canadian trader coasted along the Illinois shore of Lake Michigan, or, following a then old-time route, went up the Chicago River and down the Desplaines to the interior. Those early traders followed the thoroughfares to the Indian villages; but, ever greedy for furs which might bring lucrative prices and early gains, they preserved no note of their business tours; at least no record was left behind, that I am aware of, which has been kept to answer the inquiries of the present day." Joliet* and Marquette, after leaving the Chicago in the fall of 1673, continued north, Joliet on his way to Quebec, and Marquette to go to the mission of St. Francis Xavier, near Green Bay, where he remained till the autumn of the following year. Joliet, it is known, lost all his papers, relating to his recent voyage, in passing the rapids above Montreal; yet, from a communication (Historical Magazine, vol. 5, p. 237,) purporting to be from Father Dablon,** Superior-General of the Missions of the Society of Jesus, and bearing date *Louis Joliet, the son of a wheelwright, according to Mr. Shea, was born in Quebec, in 1745. He was educated at the Jesuit College of Quebec, but afterward engaged in the fur trade in the West, and was selected by the Government to lead the expedition in 1673, for the exploration of the Mississippi. We know the result of that journey; while the fatefulness of an accident has left a cloud which envelopes the deserved fame of Louis Joliet, the lovely character of Pere Marquette, his story of their tour to the Mississippi, his struggles and death, has also led us to forget that Joliet was first entitled to the laurel wreath for that exploration and discovery. The reward bestowed by the French sovereign upon Joliet for that distinguished service was rather a barren one, being the Island of Anticosti, in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. AThe gift proved an unlucky one; his island, in 1691, was captured, and himself and family made prisoners, by a British fleet under Sir Wm. Phipps, suffering the entire loss of his estate. Shea says: "He died apparently in the last year of the seventeenth century." **Father Claudius Dablon, Mr. Shea informs us, came to Canada in 1655, and was sent directly to Onondaga, where he continued a few years; afterward made an attempt to reach Hudson's Bay by the Saguenay, but was stopped by Iroquois war- parties. "In 1668, he followed Father Marquette to Lake Superior, became superior of the Ottawa mission, founded Sault Ste. Marie, visited Green Bay, and reached the Wisconsin with Allouez; then returned to Quebec to assume his post as superior of all the Canada missions. This office he held, with intervals, for many years, certainly till 1693; and he was still alive, but not, apparently, superior in the following year. The period of his death is unknown." August 1, 1674, giving the verbal information received from Sieur Joliet, we extract as follows: "The fourth remark concerns a very important advantage, and which some will, perhaps, find it hard to credit; it is, that we can quite easily go to Florida in boats, and by a very good navigation. There would be but one canal to make, by cutting only one-half a league of prairie, to pass from the Lake of the Illinois* into St. Louis River.** The route to be taken is this: the bark should be built on Lake Erie, which is near Lake Ontario; it would pass easily from Lake Erie to Lake Huron, from which it would enter the Lake of the Illinois. At the extremity of this lake would be the cut or canal of which I have spoken, to have a passage to St. Louis River, which empties into the Mississippi. The bark, having entered this river, would easily sail to the Gulf of Mexico. Fort Catarokoui, which the Count de Frontenac has erected on Lake Ontario, would greatly favor this enterprise, because it would facilitate the communication from Quebec to Lake Erie, from which this fort is not very far distant; and but for a waterfall, which separates Lake Erie from Lake Ontario, a bark built at Catarokoui, could go to Florida by the routes of which I have spoken. The fifth remark regards the great advantages there would be in founding new colonies in such beautiful countries and such fertile soil. Hear what Sieur Joliet says: 'When they first spoke to us of these lands without trees, I figured to myself a burned-up country, where the soil was so wretched that it would produce nothing. But we have seen the reverse, and no better can be found either for wheat, or the vines, or any fruit whatever. The river to which we have given the name of St. Louis, and which has its source not far from the extremity of the Lake of the Illinois, seemed to me to offer on its banks very fine lands well suited to receive settlements. The place, by which after leaving the river you enter the lake, is a very convenient bay to hold vessels and protect them from the wind.' Extract from a letter writtm by Count De Frontenac to M. Colbert; dated Quebec, Nov. 14, 1674.: "Sieur Joliet, whom M. Talon advised me on my arrival from France to detach for the discovery of the South Sea, has returned three months ago, and discovered some new countries, and a navigation so easy through the beautiful rivers he has found, that a person can go from Lake Ontario and Fort Frontenac, in a bark canoe, to the Gulf of Mexico, there being only one carrying place, half a league in length,—where Lake Ontario communicates with Lake Erie. He has been within ten days of the Gulf of Mexico, and believes that water communication could be found leading to the *Michigan. **Desplaines. Vermillion and California seas (called by the Spaniards Mar de Cortes) by means of the river that flows from the west into the great river (Mississippi) that he discovered, which runs from north to south, and is as large as the St. Lawrence opposite Quebec. I send you, by my secretary, the map he has made of it, and the observations that he has been able to recollect, as he has lost all his minutes and journals in the shipwreck he met with within sight of Montreal, where, after having completed a voyage of fifteen hundred leagues, he was near being drowned, and lost all his papers, and a young Indian whom he brought from those countries. He left, with the fathers of the Sault St. Marie (Lake Superior), copies of his journals; these we cannot get before next year." In Father Marquette's* account of his and Joliet's voyage of exploration, he says (French's His. Coll., part 2, p. 296): "We then ascended the Mississippi with great difficulty, against *James Marquette was a descendant of a somewhat distinguished family, and was born in the City of Laon, France, in the year 1637. As we have said on a previous occasion, "he became a Jesuit at the age of seventeen, and twelve years afterward, in 1666, sailed for Canada as a missionary, landing at Quebec in September of that year. During the two succeeding years he was engaged in studying the Indian languages, and in the spring of 1668, he embarked, via the Ottawa and French Rivers and Lake Huron, for the River St. Mary, at the falls of which a mission was to be established, with Marquette at its head. There were, of the same religious faith, earlier missionaries than Marquette in the region of the great upper lakes who were brave and devoted men; but it was Marquette's tour to the Mississippi which has made his name pre-eminently famous. Pushing out as he did into the region of the yet undiscovered wonders of the great valley, details of which journey have been fortunately preserved to us by his faithful obedience to the instructions of his Superior, our admiration is enlisted by the charm of its romance. Yet it was the lofty aim of Marquette to be of enduring service to his fellow-men; it was his integrity, his unselfishness, his untiring zeal, his gentle and uncomplaining disposition, and his early self-sacrifice near akin to martyrdom, that command our sympathies, and these are what made him truly great. In the autumn of 1669, he was chosen to go to Lapoint, or Chegoimegon, near the west end of Lake Superior, to continue the labors begun some years before by Allouez, or still earlier by Menard. In the spring of 1671, Marquette accompanied the fleeing Hurons, who sought a refuge at the Straits of Mackinaw from the fierce Sioux warriors, who had taken the war-path against them; thence, in the spring of 1673, Joliet, the leader, having arrived, they departed on their expedition for the great river." We have given in the text various extracts from his journal. "Marquette returned to Chicago, without doubt, after his visit to the Indian village on the Illinois, and in the month of May, 1675, he passed out of our river to the other side of the lake, and not only to the other side of it, but to the eternal shores beyond. On his way to Mackinaw, by the eastern shore of the lake, accompanied, doubtless, by the faithful Peter and James, he went ashore at the mouth of a river, since known by his name, and retired by himself, having requested the men to leave him alone for a brief space. But the good father had died in a little time, and they buried him upon the bank of the stream. Such is the tradition. So much, certainly, is not unreasonable, without giving credence to the numerous, minute, and dramatic details, portrayed by imaginative and artistic limners, as attending the exit of that true gentleman and kind-hearted missionary. He is understood to have died on the 18th of May, 1675." the current, and left it in latitude 380 north to enter another river,* which took us to the Lake of the Illinois,** which is a much shorter way than through the River Mesconsin,*** by which we entered the Mississippi. I never saw a more beautiful country than we found on this river. The prairies are covered with buffaloes, stags, goats, and the rivers and lakes with swans, ducks, geese, parrots, and beavers. The river upon which we sailed was wide, deep, and placid for sixty-five leagues, and navigable most all the year round. There is a portage of only half a league into the Lake of the Illinois. We found on the banks of this river a village called Kuilka, consisting of seventy-four cabins. They received us very kindly, and we promised to return and instruct them. The chief, with most of the youth of this village, accompanied us to the lake, from whence we returned to the Bay of Puans."**** After this tour, and during his stay at the Mission of St. Francis Xavier, Marquette no doubt made the map, a small facsimile of the greater part of which is herewith presented. A feature in this map will be observed, namely: the Chicago River appears a continuous stream from Lake Michigan to the waters of the Illinois. Marquette gave no name to this stream on his map, yet he refers to it in his last letter as "Portage River." The following is an extract from Father Marquette's final letter; it was addressed to Father Claudius Dablon, Superior, but was never completed. We copy from a translation which appears in an article, by Hon. J. G. Shea, in Historical Magazine, vol. 5, p. 99: Dec. 4. We started well to reach Portage River,***** which was frozen half a foot thick. There was more snow there than anywhere *Illinois. **Michigan. ***Wisconsin. ****Green Bay. *****Meaning the Chicago. else, and also more tracks of animals and turkeys. The navigation of the lake from one portage to the other* is quite fine, there being no traverse to make, and landing being quite feasible all along, providing you do not obstinately persist in traveling in the breakers and high winds. The land along the shore is good for nothing, except on the prairies. You meet eight or ten pretty fine rivers. Deer hunting is pretty good as you get away from the Pottawatomies." "Dec. 12. As they began to draw to get to the portage,** the Illinois having left, the Pottawatomies arrived with much difficulty.*** We could not say mass on the Feast of the Conception on account of the bad weather and the cold. During our stay at the mouth of the river, Pierre and Jacques killed three buffalo and four deer, one of which ran quite a distance with his heart cut in two. They contented themselves with killing three or four turkeys of the many which were around our cabin, because they were almost dying of hunger. Jacques brought in a partridge**** that he had killed, every way resembling those of France, except that it had like two little wings of three or four feathers, a finger long, near the head, with which they cover the two sides of the neck, where there are no feathers." "Dec. 14. Being cabined near the portage, two leagues***** up the river, we resolved to winter there, on my inability to go farther, being too much embarrassed, and my malady not permitting me to stand much fatigue. Several Illinois passed yesterday, going to carry their furs to Nawaskingwe. We gave them a buffalo and a deer that Jacques had killed the day before. I think I never saw Indians more greedy for French tobacco than these. They came and threw beaver skins at our feet to get a small piece; but we returned them, giving them some pipes, because we had not yet concluded whether we should go on." "Dec. 15. Chachagwessiou and the other Illinois left us to go and find their people, and give them the merchandise which they had brought in order to get their furs, in which they act like traders and hardly give more than the French. I instructed them, before their departure, deferring the holding of a council till spring, when I should be at their village. They gave us for a fathom of tobacco three fine buffalo-robes, which have done us good service this winter. Being thus relieved, we said the mass of the Conception. Since the 14th, my disease has turned into a dysentery." "Dec. 30. Jacques arrived from the Illinois village, which was *Meaning those of Sturgeon Bay and the Desplaines. **That is, upon the ice on the river, as I understand it. ***Two parties of Indians who left Green Bay at the same time he did are here referred to by Marquette. ****It was a grouse or prairie chicken no doubt. *****The leagues were guessed at, of course, not measured. only six leagues from here, where they are starving. The cold and snow prevent their hunting. Some having informed la Toupine and the surgeon that we were here, and unable to leave their cabin, had so alarmed the Indians (believing that we would starve remaining here) that Jacques had great trouble in preventing fifteen young men from coming to carry all our affairs." "Jan. 16, 1675. As soon as the two Frenchmen knew that my illness prevented my going to them, the surgeon came here with an Indian to bring us some whortleberries and bread; they are only eighteen leagues from here, in a beautiful hunting-ground for buffalo and deer, and turkeys, which are excellent there. They had, too, laid up provisions while awaiting us, and had given the Indians to understand that the cabin belonged to the black gown. And I may say, that they said and did all that could be expected of them. The surgeon having stopped to attend to his duties, I sent Jacques with him to tell the Illinois, who were near there, that my illness prevented my going to see them, and that, if it continued, I should scarcely be able to go there in the spring." "Jan. 24. Jacques returned with a bag of corn and other refreshments that the French had given him for me; he also brought the tongues and meat of two buffalo that he and an Indian had killed near by; but all the animals show the badness of the season." "Jan. 26. Three Illinois brought us from the head men two bags of corn, some dried meat, squashes, and twelve beavers; 1st, to make me a mat; 2d, to ask me for powder; 3d, to prevent our being hungry; 4th, to have some few goods. I answered them: firstly, that I had come to instruct them, by speaking to them of the prayer, &c.; secondly, that I would not give them powder, as we were endeavoring to diffuse peace on all sides, and I did not wish them to begin a war with the Miamies; thirdly, that we were in no fear of starving; fourthly, that I would encourage the French to carry them goods, and that they must satisfy those among them for the wampum taken from them as soon as the surgeon started to come here. As they had come twenty leagues, to pay them for their trouble and what they had brought me, I gave them an axe, two knives, three clasp knives, ten fathoms of wampum, and two double mirrors; telling them that I should endeavor to go to the village, merely for a few days, if my illness continued. They told me to take courage, to stay and die in their country, and said that they had been told that I would remain long with them." "Feb. 9. Since we addressed ourselves to the Blessed Virgin Immaculate, to whom we began a nevena by a mass, at which Pierre and Jacques, who do all they can to relieve me, received, to ask my recovery of the Almighty, my dysentery has ceased; there is only a weakness of the stomach left. I begin to feel much better, and to recover my strength. None of the Illinois who had ranged themselves near us have been cabined for a month; some took the road to the Pottawatomies, and some are still on the lake waiting for the navigation to open. They carry letters to our Fathers at St. Francis." "Feb. 20. We had time to observe the tide which comes from the lake rising and falling, although there appears no shelter on the lake. We saw the ice go against the wind. These tides made the water good or bad, because what comes from above flows from the prairies and small streams. The deer, which are plentiful on the lake shore, are so lean that we had to leave some that we killed." "March 23. We killed several partridges; only the male has the little wings at the neck, the female not having any. These partridges are pretty good, but do not come up to the French." "March 30. The north wind having prevented the thaw till the 25th of March, it began with a southerly wind. The next day game began to appear; we killed thirty wild pigeons, which I found better than those below,* but smaller, both young and old. On the 28th, the ice broke and choked above us. On the 29th, the water was so high that we had barely time to uncabin in haste, put our things on trees, and try to find a place to sleep on some hillock, the water gaining on us all night; but having frozen a little, and having fallen, as we were near our luggage, the dyke burst and the ice went down; and as the waters are again ascending already, we are going to embark to continue our route." "March 31. Having started yesterday, we made three leagues on the river,** going up without finding any portage. We dragged for half an arpent. Besides this outlet the river has another,*** by which we must descend. Only the very highest grounds escape inundation. That where we are**** has increased more than twelve feet. Here we began our portage more than eighteen months ago. Geese and duck pass constantly. We contented ourselves with seven. The ice still brought down detains us here, as we do not know in what state the river is lower down." From a narrative of the missionary Claude Aliouez,***** in *At Quebec. **Meaning Mud Lake channel. ***Meaning, no doubt, the Desplaines. ****On or near the Desplaines, no doubt. *****Father Claude Allouez was born in France, but in what part or when we have not learned. He was a Jesuit, and sailed in 1658, arriving at Quebec in July of that year. We do not give particular details, but "he was," says Shea, "not inferior in zeal and ability to any of the great missionaries of his time." He was at the Falls of St. Mary in September, 1665, and subsequently at Chegoimegon, on Lake Superior, and founded the Mission of St. Francis Xavier, near Green Bay. After the death of Marquette, he succeeded to the Illinois Mission. Whatever may have been the cause, it is known that this missionary was not a favorite of the explorer LaSalle, indeed his presence was offensive to him, and it is understood that Allouez retired from Illinois, expecting M. LaSalle, and went to Wisconsin, but returned again, it is understood, and is believed to have been there in 1689. Possibly he died that year, but the place of his death is not learned. Bancroft says of that missionary: "Father Claude Allouez has imperishably connected his name with the progress of discovery in the West." Additional Comments: CHICAGO ANTIQUITIES: COMPRISING ORIGINAL ITEMS AND RELATIONS, LETTERS, EXTRACTS, AND NOTES. PERTAINING TO EARLY CHICAGO; EMBELLISHED WITH VIEWS, PORTRAITS, AUTOGRAPHS, ETC. BY HENRY H. HURLBUT, Member of the Chicago Historical Society; Corresponding Member of the Wisconsin State Historical Society. CHICAGO: PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR. 1881. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1881, by HENRY H. HURLBUT, In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. File at: http://files.usgwarchives.net/il/cook/history/1881/chicagoa/chicagoa85gms.txt This file has been created by a form at http://www.genrecords.org/ilfiles/ File size: 91.2 Kb