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Meg i nness, 

Biogrsphy of 

the lost 


John Franklin, 

Frances S 1 o c u m 
fter- of Nyomi ng 

sister o- 

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Eomplete Narrative of her Kaptivity and Wanderings among the Indians. 

• I am become a stranger unto my brethren, 
And an alien unto my mother's children," 

— Psalms Ixix.-S. 


Author of the "History of the West Branch Valley of the Susquehanna, 
"Biographical Annals," "The Historical Journal," etc. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1890, by 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



Fort}^ years ago, when I first read the account of the capture of 
Frances Slocum, and the persistent efforts of her mother, brothers 
and sisters to recover her, and her final discovery and death in In- 
diana, it made such an impression on my mind that I decided, if 
the opportunit}^ ever offered, to visit her grave. After a lapse of 
forty years the opportunity came. In October, 1889, I was on a 
visit to friends at Logansport, Indiana, and remembering that it 
was near that place she was buried, I determined to carry out my 
resolution of forty years before. Accordingly, on a crisp autumn 
afternoon, I found my way to the Indian cemeterj^ on the Missis- 
sinewa, and stood beside the grave of the captive. It was pointed 
out by a grandson, who seemed to entertain almost a holy rever- 
ence for the spot, and spoke in the most affectionate terms of his 
grandmother, whom he had never seen. 

While standing beside her grave I resolved that if I could ob- 
tain sufficient data, I would attempt the work of compiling a con- 
secutive narrative of her life, and put on record fuller details of her 
wanderings, trials and sufferings, than had yet been given to the 

I fully realized that many newspaper and magazine articles con- 
cerning her had appeared from time to time, together with one or 
two little books, but nothing like an exhaustive biography had 
ever been printed. This, when the importance of the subject was 
considered, had always seemed as strange to me as the mystery of 
her life. 

To collect the official documents relating to her Indian history, 
confer with her widely scattered relatives, both white and red, soon 
proved a laborious task, and more than a year was devoted to the 
work of preparation. In the progress of research, it was discov- 
ered that several grave errors regarding the story of her life had 
found their way into print, which quickened my interest in the 
work. Through the indefatigable efforts of Mr. F. C. Campbell, 
of Washington, her petition to Congress and the letters accompa- 
nying it, were finally found buried under the Congressional debris 
of forty-five years and placed in my possession. 


Another visit to Indiana to confer with her Indian descendants, 
learn their traditions, and examine rehcs which once belonged to 
her, was found necessary. The visit was made in June, i8go, and 
several days were pleasantly and profitably spent among the rem- 
nants of the Great Miami tribe in the upper valley of the Wabash, 
when I returned with more valuable and interesting information. 

Members of the Slocum family, when apprised of the undertak- 
ing, at once evinced a deep interest in the work, and promptly 
placed whatever information they possessed relating to Frances, at 
my disposal. Her Indian descendants, when informed of what 
was contemplated, also became enthusiastic over the enterprize, 
and freely imparted what they remembered of the "white woman," 
whose memory the}' seem to cherish with a warmth of affection 
that is remarkable. 

To the following gentlemen I desire to return my acknowledg- 
ments for valuable information and assistance : Mr. George Slo- 
cum Bennett, Rev. Horace Edwin Harden, and Dr. F. C. Johnson, 
Wilkes-Barre, Pa.; Dr. Charles E. Slocum, Defiance, Ohio; Mr. 
James Slocum, Brownsville, Pa. ; Hon. Horace P. Biddle, lyOgans- 
port, Indiana; J. B. Fulwiler, Esq., and W. W. Lockwood, Esq., 
Peru, Indiana; Rev. Peter Bondy and Mr. Gabriel Godfroy, Re- 
serve, Indiana. A bibliograph}- of the authorities consulted is also 
given at the close of the volume. 

There is nothing in the annals of Indian history more pathetic 
and impressive than the story of the captivity, life, wanderings 
and death of Frances Slocum; and in her remarkable history there 
is much to interest the ethnologist, because of the peculiar devel- 
opments which followed her association with the Indians, the loss 
of her mother tongue, and the tenacity with which she clung to 
the strange people with whom her lot was cast. 

In the preparation of this book no claims are made of absolute 
accuracy or literary polish. It has proved a laborious task to ar- 
range the narrative, on account of the many contradictory details, 
in something like consecutive order; and if I have succeeded in 
placing new and valuable matter within easy reach of those who 
are interested in the melancholy story, I will feel that my "labor 
of love" has not been wholly in vain. 


WiLLiAMSPORT, Pa., January, 1890. 








vHE scene of our story is laid in the lovely valley of 
Wyoming, Pennsylvania, on the east bank of the 
North Branch of the Susquehanna P.iver, and the 
thrilling incidents connected with it had their beginning late 
in the autumn of 1778. But before proceeding, and in order 
that the reader may have a clear understanding as to the 
location of this beautiful and historic region, it is deemed 
best to describe its geographical position. 

Chapman, in his history of this region in 1818, says that 
Wyoming is a corruption of the name given to the locality 
by the Indians. They called it MaMgh-zvazv-wauie. The 
word is compounded of maitgh-zvaiv^ large, and waine^ plains. 
The name, then, signifies The Large Plains. The Delawares 
pronounced the first syllable short, and the German mission- 
aries, in order to come as near as possible to the Indian 
pronunciation, wrote the name M'chweuwami. The early 
settlers, finding it difficult to pronounce the word correctly, 
spoke it Wauwaumie, then Wiawumie, then Wiomic, and, 
finally, Wyoming. 



The valley of Wyoming lies northeast and southwest; is 
twenty-one miles in length, and an average of three miles in 
breadth. The face of the country is considerably diversified. 
The bottom lands along the river overflow in time of high 
water. The plains are in some places perfectly level, and in 
others rolling. The soil is exceedingly productive, being 
suited to all kinds of grain and grass. The valley lies im- 
mediately over the great Wyoming anthracite coal basin, 
which yields thousands of tons of coal annually, and is a 
source of great wealth to the owners. Several railroads also 
pass through it. 

Two ranges of mountains hem in the valley, the eastern 
range being of an average height of looo feet, and the west- 
ern about 800. The eastern range is precipitous and generally 
barren, but is strikingly diversified with clefts, ravines and 
forests, and presents a most picturesque and lovely view. The 
western range is rapidly yielding to the process of cultivation. 

There are several charming points of view which invite 
the attention of the lovers of .the beautiful and the grand in 
nature: Prospect Rock, east of the city of Wilkes-Barre,* 
being easiest of access from the town, and the most frequently 
visited, is the most celebrated in the annals of travel. From 
this point the valley, with the slope of the west mountain, 
presents the appearance of a beautiful ascending plain, with 
the remotest border merged in the clouds, or bounded by the 
blue sky. A more charming landscape cannot be imagined. 
The view from the mountain on the west side gives you a 
more extensive prospect of the northern and southern extrem- 

* Tlie city of Wilkes-Barre is in 41 deg. 14 min. 40.4 sec. north latitude, 
and is the capital of the populous county of Luzerne. It derives its name 
from the celebrated John Wilkes and Col. Barre, who were members of the 
British Parliament during the Revolutionary struggle, and took a decided 
stand in favor of America against the measures of the British ministry. 


ities of the valley. At this point you have a fair view of the 
northern gap through which the Susquehanna forces its way 
— of the Lackawanna Valley, Pittston, Wyoming, Wilkes- 
Barre, Kingston, Newport, and Jacob's Plains. Campbell's 
Ledge, at the head of the valley, has long been a favorite 
point of view for the romantic and athletic. The ascent is 
laborious, but the sublimity of the scene amply rewards the 
toil of the traveler. 

From whatever point the valley is surveyed, the noble 
Susquehanna is one of the many beautiful objects that present 
themselves to the eye. Such are its windings, and such the 
variety which characterize its banks, that you have no ex- 
tended view of it. It is only seen in sections, varied in size 
and form by the position occupied. Now it hides itself among 
the bowers of willow, sycamore, and maple, which fringe and 
beautify its borders, and now it throws open its mirror bosom 
to the kisses of the sunlight, reflecting the forms of beauty 
and grandeur of the surrounding scenery. 

Such is a picture of this magnificent valley, whose gran- 
deur and loveliness have afforded a theme for poets and 
historians from the earliest times. So long as the Indians 
occupied the country, it was one of their favorite dwelling 
places, and they sadly and sorrowfully bade adieu to its glories 
and beauties when compelled to leave it. White settlers came 
as early as 1762, and commenced making improvements. 
They were driven away; came again, and finally effected a 
permanent lodgement after passing through a baptism of 

On the 3d of July, 1778, the savages, smarting under mon- 
strous wrongs, and goaded on to deeds of violence by the 
British and Tories, swooped down on the settlements in great 
force, and the bloody battle and massacre of that hot July 


afternoon followed, in which the whites suffered a disastrous 
defeat.* The carnage, considering the numbers engaged, 
was dreadful. As nearly as could be ascertained, about 200 
perished in the battle and the butchery which followed during 
the night, while the loss of the invaders was comparatively 
trifling. The deeds of atrocity committed afterwards were 
of the most cruel and brutal character — a shame to civilization 
and an ineffaceable disgrace to Col. Butler, the Tory, who 
commanded the British troops and their red-skinned allies. 
The slain and the butchered prisoners were scalped, because 
these bloody trophies brought a stated price in British gold 
on being handed over to the authorities. Stockade forts and 
houses were reduced to ashes, the crops destroyed, stock driv^- 
en off, and every effort made by the invaders to efface all 
traces of civilization, and leave the beautiful valley a "howl- 
ing wilderness." 

Such was the condition of affairs after the bloody battle 
of Wyoming, It was indeed a cheerless and disheartening 
outlook to those who had escaped the horrors of the massacre, 
and that a panic should ensue is not strange. Nearly all the 
settlers who could get away took flight, and the roads or paths 
leading through the wilderness in the direction of the Dela- 
ware River were crowded with fugitive women and children, 
and the sufferings they endured are the saddest recorded in 
the annals of our Indian wars. The men who escaped were 

* A moiuiment 62 feet in lieight stands on the battle ground. It is a 
plain obelisk in the dark gray stone of the valley. The names of 171 who 
perished in the battle and afterwards, are cut in a marble tablet, and a vault 
beneath the base contains their bones. One hundred years after— July 3, 
1878— the anniversary of the battle was observed in the presence of 60,000 
l^eople. President Hayes, several cabinet officers and governors of States 
were present. The Delaware, Lackawanna and AVestern Railroad, between 
Scranton and Northumberland, 85 miles, runs through a portion of the 


collected together to guard the rear of the fleeing column, 
and save what property they could from the vandal hands of 
the remorseless invaders. 

Among the few who remained was the family of Jonathan 
Slocum. They had settled on the east side of the river, some 
miles away from the scene of the battle, and on what is now 
a portion of the site of the rich, populous and flourishing city 
of Wilkes-Barre. The battle, it must be remembered, took 
place on the west side of the river, and it should be borne in 
mind that the enemy did not cross the stream to molest the 
fort where many of the settlers had collected. Reinforce- 
ments, too, were expected, a knowledge of which doubtless 
deterred the enemy from crossing the river, and they soon 
hurried away in the direction of Tioga Point (now Athens) 
with the trophies of their victory. 

Jonathan Slocum, whose ancestors came from England at 
an early date, was born in Kent County, Rhode Island, May 
I, 1735. He married Ruth Tripp, February 23, 1757, and for 
several years they resided in their native State. They were 
both members of the Society of Friends, the "Protestants of 
the Puritans."'' 

Some time during the year 1777 Mr. Slocum, with his wife 
and nine children, emigrated from Rhode Island and settled 
on a tract of land lying near Wilkes-Barre Fort. Previous 
to his location here, however, he had visited the place as 
early as 1771, acquired land, and made preparations fgr the 
removal of his family. At that time Connecticut settlers 
were pouring in, and a few Rhode Islanders, attracted by 
reports of the fertility of the soil and the beauty of the coun- 
try, joined the immigrants. The Slocum family removed to 
their new home in a covered v/agon, and as the roads were 

*See "History of the Slocuius in America." p. 28. 


bad and many streams had to be crossed, the journey was a 
long and tiresome one. Isaac Tripp, the father of Mrs. Slo- 
cum, came with them. Of the ten children comprising this 
remarkable and historic family, all were born in Rhode Island 
bnt one. The following epitome of their history is made np 
from Dr. Charles E. Slocnm's great work on the genealogy 
and History of the Slocuvis in America. They were named 
as follows : 

I. — Giles, b. 5 Jan., 1759; m. Sarah Ross; d. 14 Nov. 1S26, in Co- 
lumbia Co., N. Y. He took part in the battle of Wyoming, and 
was one of the few who escaped the cruel slaughter by swim- 
ming to an island in the river, rolling in the sand and hiding 
under a fallen tree, covered, by bushes. He was a member of 
the Society of Friends; a farmer earlier in life; later an inn- 
keeper (?) and merchant. lycft two sons and one daughter. 

II. — ^Judith, b. Oct. — , 1760; m. Hugh Forsman, a farmer; d. 11 
Mar. 1 8 14 in Cincinnati. Her husband was a subaltern in Capt. 
Hewitt's company during the Wyoming massacre, and was one 
of the fifteen of that corps who escaped the slaughter, and he 
was the only one who brought in his gun. She left several 

III. — William, b. 6 Jan. 1762; married Sarah Sawyer; d. Oct. 20, 
1 8 10, near Pittston. He was wounded in the heel by a musket 
ball 16 Dec. 1778, at the time his father and grandfather Tripp 
were killed by Indians on the site of Wilkes-Barre. Was elected 
Sheriff of lyuzerne County in 1695, when it included Wyoming, 
Susquehanna, I^ackawanna and part of Bradford. He held the 
office until 1799, when he retired to his farm, and in 1806 was 
elected a Justice of the Peace. He was classed among the prom- 
inent and influential men of his count5\ I>ft four sons and five 

IV. — Kbenezer, b. 10 Jan. 1766; m. Sarah Davis, d. 5 July 1810, 
suddenly, of apoplexy, in the street while on a visit to Wilkes- 
Barre. In 1798 he purchased an interest in a grist mill in Deep 
Hollow, now included within the limits of Scranton. Built a 
saw mill and a distillery. Afterwards his brother Benjamin be- 
came associated with him, and together they constructed an iron 


forge in the early part of 1800, and another distillery in 181 1. 
They carried on an extensive business. The firm was dissolved 
in 1826. Mr. Slocum was Justice of the Peace in 1821 of the 
district which included the present Pittston, Providence and Ex- 
eter townships. He was successful in business and accumulated 
in addition to other property, 1,800 acres of land, all located 
within the present limits of Scran ton, and nearly all of it was 
underlaid with coal. He left thirteen children, nine sons and 
four daughters. 
V. — Mary, b. 22 Dec. 1768; m. Joseph Towne, a farmer; resided 
in Ohio near Circleville; d. 5 April, 1844. Left several children. 

VI. — Benjamin, b. 7 Dec. 1770; m, Phebe La France. Resided 
with his brother Ebenezer at Slocum Hollow; in 181 1 was ap- 
pointed Postmaster of Providence, which was the first postoffice 
in Lackawanna Valley, In 1826 he settled on a farm which in- 
cluded the land now occupied by the borough of Tunkhannock, 
and there he died July 5, 1832. He left four children, one son 
and three daughters. The son, Thomas Truxton, who succeed- 
ed to the farm, gave two acres of land on which to build the 
court house when Tunkhannock became the seat of justice of 
Wyoming County. 

VII. — Frances, b. March — , 1773; d. March 9, 1849. The In- 
dian captive, and the subject of this narrative. She married an 
Indian war chief of the Miamis, named She-pan-can-ah, (deaf 
man) and left two daughters, Ke-ke-se-qua and O-zah-wah- 

VIII. — Isaac, b. 4 March, 1775; m. ist Elizabeth Patrick; 2d Mrs. 
Lydia Norton. First settled on a farm which included the site 
of Tunkhannock, where he lived until 1823 ; then removed 
to Sandusky County, Ohio. Died near Bellevue Aug. 26, 1858. 
He was an active and prominent citizen, held several military 
commissions, and served as postmaster. He took a deep interest 
in his captive sister, and frequently visited her. Maj. Slocum 
outlived all his father's family. He left twelve children, eight 
.sons and four daughters. 

IX. — ^Joseph, b. 9 April, 1776; m. Sarah Fell; d. 27 Sept. 1855. 
He was a blacksmith and farmer; was chosen the first Captain 
of the "Wyoming Blues" military company in 1805, and was 
commissioned As.sociate Judge of Luzerne County in 1840, and 


filled that office three or four years very acceptably. The town- 
ship of Slocum in lyuzerne County, and Slocum postoffice were 
named in his honor. Judge Slocum was an excellent citizen 
and greatly respected. He left seven children, two sons and five 
X. — ^Jonathan, b. 12 Sept., 1778; m. Martha Underwood; d.Sept. 
— , 1842, Was a farmer and resided late in life near Havana, 
Schuyler County, N. Y. He left ten children, eight sons and 
two daughters. 

Giles Slocum, the eldest son, who was a young man of 
nineteen at the time of the invasion, shouldered his gun and 
took part in the battle. This act of hostility, it is believed, 
attracted the attention of the savages, and caused them to 
wreak vengeance on the family. 

Mr Slocum, on account of his non-combative principles 
and the many acts of kindness he had bestowed on the In- 
dians, considered himself and family comparatively free from 
danger. His father-in-law, Mr. Isaac Tripp, also a Quaker, 
entertained the same opinion, as he had frequently befriended 
the Indians, and they had on more than one occasion, during 
raids, avoided molesting him. The entertainment of these 
opinions evidently were among the reasons why they did not 
fly after the battle. And possibly they would not have been 
molested had Giles not taken part in the bloody conflict of 
July 3, 1778, and escaped the carnage.* The Indians were 
cjuick to discern, and being of a savage and revengeful nature, 
at once concluded that deception was being practiced by the 
Slocums, else Giles would not have taken up arms against 
them; and they at once determined to seek revenge. 

After the massacre straggling bands of Indians continued 
to visit the valley in search of scalps and plunder, until the 

* He escaped to Monockonock Island in the river, where he concealed 
liimself until it was safe to cross to the main land, on the east side, and 
finally made his way to his father's house, 


conclusion of peace with England. 'On the 2d of November, 
1778, three Delaware Indians stealthily came into the valley 
and, watching a favorable opportunity, approached the Slo- 
cum residence. Mr. Slocum and his father-in-law were away 
from home at the time. Mrs. Slocum was there, with several 
of her children around her, and two boys named Kingsley. 
Some time previously Nathan Kingsle}' had been made pris- 
oner by the Indians, and his wife and two sons were taken in 
by Mr. Slocum and afforded the comforts of a home. The 
house stood just in the edge of the woods, and when the 
Indians approached they saw the two Kingsley boys at the 
door engaged in grinding a knife. Dr. Peck informs us that 
the elder of the boys, Nathan by name, wore a soldier's coat, 
which, it is presumed, was a special reason of his being marked 
as a victim. One of the Indians quickly drew up his gun 
and shot the young man dead. The discharge of the gun 
quickly brought Mrs. Slocum to the door, when she was hor- 
rified at seeing a stalwart savage scalping the young man with 
the knife which he had been grinding. Taking in the situation 
at a glance, Mrs. Slocum and several of the children fled into 
the woods,* while Mary, one of the daughters, seized her 
brother Joseph, aged about two years, and rushed out of the 
back door. The Indians shouted loudly after her and laughed 
to see the speed with which she ran, and the tenacity with 
which she held on to her infant brother. The chroniclers of 
the period fail to inform us what became of Mrs. Kingsley, 
the mother of the murdered boy, but it is inferred that she 
escaped from the house on the alarm being given, and saved 
her life, and her husband was afterwards restored to her. f 

■■ Todd's Lost Sister of Wyoming, p. !)L 

t Nathan Kingsley was one of the first settlers in Wyalusing. He was a 
native of Connecticut, and belonged to one of the most noted families in 
that State. He was a man of wealth and influence in that early day. He 


Little Frances, according to a tradition still preserved among 
the Miami Indians of Indiana, endeavored to secrete herself 
under the stairway leading to the loft. In the meantime the 
Indians entered the house, which they quickly ransacked, and 
then prepared to depart. On descending the stairway one of 
the savages saw the feet of the child protruding from her hid- 
ing place, and seizing them quickly drew her forth. The 
surviving Kingsley boy, Ebenezer Slocum, aged about twelve 
years, and little Frances, were taken prisoners,* and the In- 
dians prepared, to depart before any alarm could be given. Mrs. 
Slocum breathlessly watched the proceedings from the thick- 
et, and trembled with fear lest she should see the tomahawk 
buried in the heads of her children ; but when she saw them 
about to leave, carrying her boy and little Frances, her 
motherly instincts overcame all fear and she rushed from her 

occupied the old log house now standing on the lands of Mrs. Welles, a few 
rods east of the railroad and north of the depot. This house was built 
about 1768, and was for a time occupied by a brother of the celebrated mis- 
sionary Heckewelder. It is, without doubt, the oldest house in the [Brad- 
ford] county. Here_ Kingsley, by means of great watchfulness and prudence, 
lived for some time unmolested by the Indians, but at length, in June, 1778, 
was captured by them and taken to Niagara. After a confinement of several 
months he was released, and returned to AVyalusing, whither his family 
liad fled before his capture. It was during his captivity (Nov. 2, 1778,) that 
his son, Nathan Kingsley, Jr., was killed, and another son carried into cap- 
tivity. * * * INIr. Kingsley had but one son left, Wareham, who, long 
after his return, married into the Turrell family, and went to Connecticut, 
where he ^ died. After troubles in the valley in a measure ceased, Mr. 
Kingsley returned to Wyalusing, where he lived for several years. Unfor- 
tunately the old man acquired intemperate habits and became very poor, so 
that he became a town charge and his keeping was sold to James Arm- 
strong, who removed west, where Kingsley died, it is said, by the falling of 
a tree, about the year 1800. — Craft's Hist. Wyalusing, p. 56. 

Mr. Kingsley returned to his old home in 1785. He built a distillery 
near where Mr. Welles' stone quarry now is. He was a Justice of the Peace 
and Judge of the Court in 1787, and in his old age was taken west, where he 
died. His wife, Roccelana, died in AVyalusing, but the exact date has not 
been ascertained.— Hist. Bradford Co., p. 443. 

* Some of the early writers assert — Miner among them — that a colored 
girl, seventeen years of age, was taken at the same time from the Slocum 


hiding place, and her countenance in unutterable language 
told the savages that she was the mother, and with tears 
streaming from her eyes she implored them to spare her chil- 
dren. They scorned her tears and scoffed at her supplications 
with fiendish glee. She frantically pointed to her son Eben- 
ezer, who was lame, fearing that if he failed to keep up with 
them he would be cruelly butchered. This idea rushed with 
such force on her mind that she forgot all fear, and running 
up to the Indian who was dragging him away, pointed at the 
feet of the boy and exclaimed : "The child is lame; he can 
do thee no good ! " This appeal caused the Indian to release 
the boy; but he instantly seized little Frances, and throwing 
her over his shoulder, rushed after his companions. Mrs. 
Slocum begged piteously for her daughter, but in vain. The 
child stretched out one hand imploringly towards her mother, 
while with the other she brushed away the luxuriant auburn 
ringlets which fell over her face, and as the tears streamed 
from her eyes she frantically called on her mother to save her. 
The Indian dashed into the bushes, and that was the last 
Mrs. Slocum ever saw of her child ! But the image of that 
piteous face was so indelibly impressed on the memory of 
the mother that she never forgot it, and to the day she de- 
scended to the grave she always recalled the sad circumstance 
with sorrow and deep lamentation. 

house. But after careful inquiry among the Miami Indians of Indiana, I 
find tliat they have no tradition of such a capture, but deny it in toto. 
Neither did Frances refer to such a circumstance. Miner, however, says 
that she was afterwards seen by prisoners in the family of Col. John Butler, 
at Niagara, who had purchased her from the Indians. If such a person was 
captured it might have occurred at another time and place. 




^HE three Indians, with Frances and the boy, Ware- 
ham Kingsley, fled rapidly into the forest, and 
before the terrified mother and her children conld 
clearly comprehend what had happened, they were lost to 
sight. The noise and excitement of the capture had attracted 
attention at Wilkes-Barre Fort, situated only a few hundred 
rods west of the Slocuni residence, and an alarm was imme- 
diately given, but the wily savages traveled so swiftly that 
the pursuing party could find no trace of them, and the chase 
was soon given up. In the meantime the grief of the mother, 
when she fairly came to realize the situation, was almost un- 
bearable. The captured child was a favorite one, and the pet 
of the family. Her exact age is unknown,* as the day in 
March, 1773, when she was born, has been lost; but as she 
was carried into captivity November 2, 1778, she must have 
been about four years and seven months old. A tender age, 
indeed, to be torn away from a comfortable home and cast 
into the wilderness on the approach of winter in this northern 
latitude; but Providence, as the sequel will show, stretched 
forth His strong arm to shield and protect this defenceless 

* See (luotation ;j;iving the names and ages of the family, on p. IL 


Jonathan Slocum, the father, was away from home when 
the terrible calamity came upon his household. On his return 
he beheld the bloody corpse of the murdered young man lying 
at his door, and found his wife prostrated with grief at the 
loss of their little Frances. In a state of mind bordering on 
frenzy she related the story of the capture, and in piteous 
sobs bewailed the sad fate of her child. It is needless to add 
that the husband and father, on learning the situation, was 
almost paralyzed with horror, and he scarcely knew what to 
say or do. Reflecting a moment, however, he resolved, with 
characteristic self-control, not to allow the current of his grief 
to break over all its natural barriers, accepted the situation 
and humbly bowed to the stern decree of fate. Not so with 
the mother. She could not give up her child — she could not 
sever the maternal tie — and with deep sobs and broken sen- 
tences gave expression to the most profound and overwhelm- 
ing grief. It was a sad and impressive scene around that 
desolate hearth as the gloom of night settled down. Sleep 
fled from that family. Mrs. Slocum could not banish from 
her sight the last look and plaintive appeal of the innocent 
child, as with outstretched hands, streaming eyes and dishev- 
eled locks, she disappeared from her view; and her frantic 
shrieks of '"'mamma! mamma .^" rang in her ears and haunted 
her imagination like a demon of darkness. And then the 
question, which no human reason could solve at that terrible 
moment of agony, was: " What would become of the child ?" 
Would she be cruelly murdered in the forest and her body 
become food for the wolves ? or would she be worn out with 
fatigue and left to die a lingering death for want of food and 
comfortable clothing? Such terrible imaginations haunted 
her mind and she could not dispel them. The father, as he 
sat with his head bowed in silent grief and listened to the 


sobs of his wife and children, presented a picture that is viv- 
idly drawn by the poet : 

"T was eve — a little circle sat 

Around the cottage hearth; 
Youth's voice and rose-bud lips were there, 

But not its tones of mirth. 

' ' But few and low were all the words 

Of that lone fireside ring; 
It seemed as though their spirits dwelt 

Upon some fearful thing. 

" Had death been in that forest home 

To call the loved away ? 
Was it for this that mother wept 

From eve till break of day ? 

" No; though they missed the bab}' voice 

And little dimpled hand: 
Death in his quiver hath no dart 

lyike that which pierced that band. 

" They missed her when the morning came 

To wake the voice of birds; 
She was not there to mock their song 

With her soft and simple words. 

" She was not there with acorn cups 

Beside the woodland rill, 
Calling aloud to hear her voice 

Re-echo from the hill. 

" They had been there — the forest men! 

And from her mother's breast 
They tore the darling of her love — ■ 

The warbler from her nest. 

"When evening came, the circle met 

And wept with anguish sore; 
They hoped^ — threw hope away, and then 

Retired to dream it o'er. 

" And in the chambers of the soul 
One picture memory laid — 


A child — one hand among her curls; 
The other stretched for aid!" 

Time dragged heavily in the stricken household. No 
tidings of the lost child could be obtained, notwithstanding 
searching parties went in the direction taken by the savages 
and scoured the country carefully. They had done their work 
quickly and well, and left no trace of their flight behind. 

Owing to the condition of the times it was not safe for 
scouting parties to venture far into the wilderness, because 
the Indians lurked in the thickets rea'dy to pounce upon them 
with the agility and fierceness of beasts of prey. The set- 
tlers, too, had not fairly recovered from the terror and con- 
sternation caused by the battle and massacre of July 3d, and 
as so many members of families had been slain, and the west- 
ern side of the valley devastated, it is not strange, perhaps, 
that greater efforts were not made at the time for the rescue 
of the stolen child. 

A little more than a month had passed and the heart- 
stricken family had not recovered from the blow, when 
another more crushing was delivered, and a deeper gloom 
settled on the stricken household. The relentless savages 
were not yet satisfied. The distinguished historian of Wyom- 
ing, Hon. Charles Miner, says: 

"The cup of vengeance was not yet full. December i6th, 
Mr. Slocum and Isaac Tripp, Esq., his father-in-law, an aged 
man, with William Slocum, a youth of nineteen or twenty, 
were feeding cattle from a stack in the meadow, in sight of 
the fort, when they were fired upon by Indians. Mr. Slocum 
was shot dead; Mr. Tripp* was wounded, speared and toma- 

* Little is known of the history of Isaac Tripp. As early as 1768 or '(!!), 
he and Joseph Slocum, father of Jonathan, came to the valley. In 1774 he 
purchased a large tract of land which embraced Capoose Meadow, now in- • 


hawked; both were scalped. William, wounded by a spent 
ball in the heel, escaped and gave the alarm, bat the alert 
^nd wily foe had retreated to his hiding place in the mountain. 
This deed, bold as it was cruel, was perpetrated within the 
town plot, in the centre of which the fortress was located. 
Thus in little more than a month, Mrs. Slocum had lost a 
beloved child, carried into captivity; the doorway had been 
drenched in blood by the murder of an inmate of the family; 
two others of the household had been taken away prisoners; 
and now her husband and father were both stricken down to 
the grave, murdered* and mangled by the merciless Indians. 
Verily, the annals of Indian atrocities, written in blood, 
record few instances of desolation and woe to equal this." 

The blow was indeed an overwhelming one, and calculated 
to crush the widow. Her lot was a hard one. Both the slain 
men had often befriended the Indians, but their acts of kind- 
ness were now repaid by the most cruel ingratitude. The 
only explanation that can be offered for this extraordinary 

eluded in the limits of Scranton. In 1771 Jonathan Slocum, his son-in-law, 
became the owner of a part of this tract, and in 1775 he purchased a lot in 
the second division of the town plat of Wilkes-Barre and settled in a house 
a few hundred yards east of the fort. Isaac Tripp was a prominent man 
and took an active part in the political troubles at Wyoming between the 
Connecticut settlers and Pennamites. In 1774 a grandson, also named Isaac 
Tripp, settled on a part of the Capoose farm. At the age of eighteen, and 
soon after the Wyoming massacre, he was captured by the Indians, and 
with others, marched to Canada. On the way he experienced great suffer- 
ing from hunger and cruel treatment. At Niagara he met his cousin, Frances 
Slocum, who was also a captive. They planned their escape, but were dis- 
covered, separated, and never more met on earth. He was sold to the 
English and compelled to enter their service, in which he reluctantly con- 
tinued to the close of the revolutionary war. He was then released, returned 
home and resumed the peaceful pursuits of the farm. He died April 15th, 
1820, aged (iO years.— Hollister's Hist. Lackawanna Valley, p. 127 ; also Hist, 
of the Slocums, p. 12;). 

* The meadow where this tragedy occurred was located somewhere be- 
tween the Slocum house and the public square, along what is now Canal 
street, in the heart of the city of Wilkes-Barre. 


conduct was revenge for the part taken by Giles in the battle. 
Revenge is one of the strong points of Indian character, the 
feeling for which is generally caused by a suspicion of decep- 
tion or inconstancy on the part of those whom they had con- 
fided in and trusted. 

In moralizing upon the tragedy which had bereft this mod- 
ern Ruth of both husband and father, Dr. Peck dwells upon 
the fact that while they were both dead, and their ashes 
reposed beneath the green turf, time gradually modified the 
poignancy of the widow's grief for the slain, but Frances, 
where was she? She knew that the others were at rest,' and 
was resigned. But what was the fate of the child ? The 
mystery grew deeper and more oppressive as time rolled on. 
A suspense more terrible than death hung over her fate, and 
lapsing years only increased the vividness of the traces of 
memory relating to the minutest circumstances connected 
with the thrilling tragedy of her capture. She called up all 
the little griefs and disappointments which family discipline 
had inflicted on her dear child. One circumstance particu- 
larly, the venerable historian informs us, which distressed her 
almost beyond endurance, and was constantly present in her 
mind, was that Frances had a pair of new shoes,* and as a 
matter of economy she had been required to lay them up for 
colder weather. She went away with bare feet, and in that 
condition would doubtless be obliged to travel rough roads, 
and perhaps through frost and snow to make long journeys. 
"Oh ! if the poor little creature only had her shoes !" was 
her constant exclamation; and this thought was a source of 
torture to the bereaved soul of the mother for long and weary 

Peace was finally concluded with Great Britain, and efforts 

* Dr. Peck's History of Wyoming, p. 244. 


were at once made by the infant government of the United 
States to conciliate the Indian tribes of the North. Agents 
were dispatched to negotiate treaties and restore confidence, 
but it took a long time to appease the savage mind and bring 
about a better feeling. While these negotiations were going 
on, two of Mrs. Slocum's sons, who had grown into man- 
hood, conceived the idea of making a journey north to search 
for their lost sister. This was very gratifying to the mother, 
who still yearned for her child, and firmly believed that she 
lived and would yet be found. Accordingly, in 1784, they 
started on their journey and traveled as far as Niagara. This 
was an important point during the war, and prisoners were 
frequently carried there when orders were issued to give them 
up. Being men of means, they offered a reward of one hun- 
dred guineas for the recovery of the child, or for information 
regarding her whereabouts. They thought this sum would 
be sufficient to tempt Indian cupidity. But they did not con- 
sider that when an Indian undertakes to keep a secret nothing 
will induce him to break the seal of his lips, nor especially 
the criminality and disgrace of betraying to white men secrets 
confided by Indians. As will be shown at the proper time, 
the little captive lived and was widely known among the 
northern Indians. For some strange and inexplicable reason 
she was regarded as a treasure, and was guarded with jealous 
care. Fate seemed to have woven about her a veil of ob- 
scurity which was an impenetrable mystery to her friends. 
Had the disconsolate mother known the truth, how much 
greater would have been her mental anguish! but this knowl- 
edge was denied her, notwithstanding some invisible power 
whispered in her ear that the child was not dead. 

Disheartened and discouraged the brothers finally gave up 
the search and returned home, after an absence of several 


weeks, almost convinced that their sister was dead. This 
was a sad blow to the mother, but she refused to fall in with 
their belief, and did not abandon hope. In some respects the 
mystery surrounding this case is akin to that which has so 
far obscured the fate of Charley Ross. But the parallel will 
only be complete when sixty years have rolled away and he 


11 be discovered — if fate shall so decree it. 

The first record so far discovered concerning the two cap- 
tive children of November 2d, 1778, is found in a report of 
Cols. Fred Fisher and John Harper, of Johnstown,* N. Y. , 
under date of March 2, 1780, relative to confiscations, and 
Tory families to be sent to Canada. That list contains the 
names of fourteen prisoners,! and among them are the fol- 
lowing : "Hookam child; Kingsley child, Nov. 2, 1775." 
The fact that the last name is spelled correctly shows conclu- 
sively that "Hookam" is meant for Slocum, because both 
were taken at the same time. The only part of the record 
which does not correspond with the fact is the year, "1775," 
written opposite the names. But such a mistake could easily 
have been committed by the person making the entry. The 
correct day of the month being given removes all doubt as to 
the identity of the " Hookam child." This important record 
may be fou,nd in Governor Clinton's unpublished papers, 
Vol. IX., No. 2736. 

If the brothers had had the good fortune to have found 

* Johnstown is now the capital of Fulton County, N. Y., on C'ayadutta 
Creek, 48 miles W. N. W. of Albany. 

t The names of the other prisoners, with the dates of capture, are given 
for the information of the general reader, and are as follows ; James Bod- 
lack, March 21, 1779, released at Niagara, 1780 ; John Church (58) 1778 ; Jona- 
than Smith, 1770—1780 died; Jacob V. Gardner, — Case, Stephen Parish, 
July 5, 1778; Mrs. Hageman, Nov. 7, 1778; Lanorah Hageman, ditto; Brib- 
ben Jones, 1778; Zebulon Parish, Joseph Parish, 1778; Stephen Kamboll, 


this record, they would have had a clue to the object of their 
search; but where secrecy was so strictly observed, it would, 
very likely, have availed them little. 

As the years passed and the country became more quiet 
and settled, in obedience to the yearnings of the mother, the 
brothers, in 1788, again visited the Indian country. This 
time they traveled westward, and penetrated the wilderness 
of Ohio. They were absent for several months and enlisted 
the sympathy of Indian agents and traders, who aided them 
all they could in their researches. They offered a reward of 
$500 for any information with regard to their sister's where- 
abouts, but to no purpose, and they were forced to return 
home no wiser than when they went out. 

Some time in 1789, according to requests of government 
officials, many Indians assembled at Tioga Point, (now 
Athens, Pa.,) with children who had been captured, to give 
their parents and friends an opportunity of identifying and 
reclaiming them. Hearing of this, Mrs. Slocum, then about 
53 years of age, made a journey with great labor* to the place, 
and after weeks of careful search among the captives, found 
no one that she could recognize as her lost Frances, and she 
returned home in deep sorrow over the failure of her mission. 
But she still clung to the belief that her child w,as alive and 
would yet be found. How strange that this idea never for- 

* To give the reader an idea of what was involved in making the jour- 
ney at that time, the following extract from the journal of Joseph Ingham 
is given: " I traveled (1789) up the Susquehanna, following the course of 
the river, and found it had been very little traveled ; hardly a plain path, 
and this very crooked and hard to follow— (piite impassable for more than 
a man and a single horse. Along the edge of precipices, next the river and 
other places, I had to ascend and descend from one ledge of rocks to an- 
other, some feet perpendicular, at a great height from the water, and in 
some places extremely dangerous. The habitations of men were very few, 
and the inhabitants, instead of being glad to converse with strangers or 
travelers, would hardly speak to them." — Hist, of Bradford County, p. 87. 


sook her! Did some invisible spirit prompt her not to abandon 
hope ? 

Tioga, or the Diahoga of the aborigines, was a remarkable 
place. It was the open door throngh which their war parties 
passed when going south to murder, pillage and destroy, and 
through which prisoners were dragged on their way north to 
Niagara. Mrs. Perkins, in her Early Times on the Siisqiie- 
haji7ta^ says that the Indians, with Frances, passed up the 
river to Tioga in a canoe, and the " little one was allowed to 
amuse herself by paddling in the water, and when on land, 
to practice with her bow' and arrow for entertainment." But 
the writer was mistaken, as will hereafter be shown by the 
statement of the captive as to how they traveled. 

Late in the fall of 1790 the last great gathering of Indians 
took place at Tioga. Red Jacket, Cornplanter and many 
prominent chiefs, with hundreds of their followers, were 
there. They assembled to meet Timothy Pickering, who 
was appointed a commissioner by Gen. Washington to nego- 
tiate a treaty. The meeting was a memorable one, and many 
eloquent speeches were made, but strange to say, there is no 
record of the treaty on file in the Indian Office, and its terms 
are unknown. When the conference broke up very few In- 
dians were ever seen there again. To them the door was 

Early in 1791, General Knox, then Secretary of War, 
commissioned Col. Thomas Proctor to visit the several In- 
dian tribes inhabiting the country bordering on Lake Erie, 
and the Miamis of the Wabash, for the purpose of making 
peace and establishing friendly relations with them. Accord- 
ing to his journal he started from Philadelphia on the 12th 
of March, 1791, and on the 17th "crossed the east branch of 
the Susquehanna" at "Hughsburg" (now Catawissa), and 


spent the night at Berwick. Having served in Sullivan's 
Expedition of 1779 as a colonel of artillery, and while the 
army was ascending the river had charge of 214 vessels car- 
rying the provisions for 6,000 men, this visit was very inter- 
esting to him, and he took pains to note in his journal the 
points where they had encamped twelve years before. He 
also speaks of owning twenty-five tracts of land* on Big 
Fishing Creek. Recrossing the river at Berwick he finally, 
with his party, reached " Wilksburg" (Wilkes-Barre) on the 
19th, and met Col. Butler and Col. Pickering. The latter 
was then serving as prothonotary of the county. Continuing 
his journey up the river he arrived at Tioga Point on the 26th 
after a toilsome journey. On the 27th he reached Newtown 
(now Elmira), where he remained over night and viewed the 
battle ground at Horseheads, where General Sullivan de- 
feated the Indians in 1779. On the 28th he enters in his 
journal :t 

We proceeded to the Painted Post, or Cohocton, in the Indian 
language; dined and refreshed our horses, it being the last house 
we should meet with ere we should reach the Genessee river. * * 
* * Here I was joined company by a Mr. George Slocum,+ who 
followed us from Wyoming, to place himself under our protection 
and assistance, until we should reach the Cornplanter's settlement, 
on the head waters of the Allegheny, to the redeeming of his sis- 
ter from an unpleasing captivity of twelve years, to which end he 
begged our immediate interposition. -'- * '•' 

On the 22d of x\pril, 1791, Col. Proctor, after writing up 
his journal for that date, and stating the amount of money 
paid certain parties for services and provisions, makes this 
brief but remarkable reference** in connection with others: 

* Second Series Pennsylvania Archives, Yo\. IV., p. 555. 

t See Pennsylvania Archives, Second Series, Vol. IV., p. 560. 

j. Pennsylvania Magazine of History, Vol. III., (1870) p. 115, Mr. James 
Slocum of Brovi^nsville, Pa., shows that this name should have been written 
Giles. Frances had no brother named George. 

7^* See Pennsylvania Archives, Second Series, Vol. IV., p. 579. Also In- 


To cash paid Francis Slocum, a white 'prisoner, 7s. 6d.; do. a 
white prisoner at Cataraugus, iis. 3d.; she informs me that she is 
a sister of Henry Kepple, in Market street, born in Germany; her 
husband, a Lieutenant Groves, of the Royal Americans, was killed 
at Venango, in the year 1761; had been prisoner ever since, but 
too old and enfeebled to leave them; she informed me that she 
was truly poor, which I had apparent reason to believe, and I 
mean to inform her friends of the same, which is the cause of my 
making this minute, as knowing her brother was under wealthy 
circumstances. * * * * 

This is the second recorded mention that has been made 
of Frances Slocum since her abduction, and considering the 
fact of the surrounding circumstances, and the apparent in- 
difference of the writer, is most extraordinary. After being 
joined by her brother at Painted Post only three weeks before, 
who apprised him of the object of his mission, claimed his 
"protection" and begged his "immediate interposition" to 
reclaim his captive sister, it is passing strange that Colonel 
Proctor should in a few brief words name the girl and the 
amount he paid her, and at once enter into details about an- 
other prisoner, who had a brother living in Philadelphia 
"under wealthy circumstances!" The simple error in the 
spelling of her first name amounts to nothing. She was be- 
yond peradventure the lost child of Wyoming, for whom the 
family had so persistently searched for over thirteen years ! 
And what is stranger still, she was at this time less than 
three hundred miles from the home of her mother — was liv- 
ing with the Indians congregated at Cornplanter's town on 
the Allegheu}^ river — and notwithstanding a brother was 
either present, or near by, the commissioner of the war de- 
partment treated the matter so indifferently that she was 
immediately lost sight of, when practically within the grasp 
of her friends. Was it indifference or stupidity that caused 

(lian Stiite Papers, and Col. Stone's History of Wyoming, p. -!5G, 


Col. Proctor* to treat her case so lightly ? for he must have 
known who she was when he named her, after paying her a 
small sum of money. 

Frances was now about i8 years old, as she was less than 
five when taken away, and a full grown woman. That the 
Indians were endeavoring to secrete her there is no doubt, 
for with the efforts which were being made by her brothers to 
find her and the large rewards that they offered, she could not 
have remained in obscurity if there had been any disposition 
to give her up. Why this desire to retain her? the reader 
wall doubtless ask. The most plausible reason that can be 
offered is that she had been adopted by an Indian family that 
had lost a daughter about her age, and she had been carefully 
reared according to their custom, and had become greatly 
endeared to her foster parents. And above all, she had a 
luxuriant growth of red hair, which became almost an object 
of worship to the Indians. These are the reasons, it is 
believed, which caused them to hold on to her so tenaciously; 
and through care and kindness she grew up a thorough Indian 
and did not want to leave them. 

What became of Mr. Slocum, Colonel Proctor does not 
tell us; but he could not have remained with him long, or he 
certainly would have gotten a clue to the presence of his sister. 
That he still remained in ignorance of her whereabouts is 
evident, for the early historians of Wyoming inform us that 

* Rev. David Craft, of Wyalusing, Pa., in a note to his historical address, 
published in Sullivan's Indian Expedition, 1779, page 342, says: 

Col. Thomas Proctor was born in Ireland, but in early life came to Phila- 
delphia, where he worked at the trade of a carpenter until the beginning of 
the war, when he raised a company, was commissioned captain Nov. 27, 
1775, and promoted colonel from major Feb. 6, 1777, resigned April 9, 1781, 
and died at Philadelphia March 16, 1806. He was a man of great executive 
ability, and was frequently serviceable to the government in other than 
a military capacity. In 1791 he was sent on a mission to the Western In- 
dians, which he performed to the satisfaction of the government. 


the brothers in 1797 undertook another expedition among the 
western Indians. This they did in obedience to the entreaties 
of their mother, who had never become reconciled, but firmly 
entertained the idea that her child lived, and must, after all, 
be found. Neither did the zeal of the brothers in the search 
decline with the lapse of years. Four of them, now mature 
men, and possessing ample means, entered the western wil- 
derness and spent nearly the entire summer of 1797 in visiting 
the Indian settlements. 

The following account of these journeys is taken from an 
obituary notice of Isaac Slocum, * published in The Witness^ 
at Indianapolis, under date of October 27, 1858: 

" As soon as the war had closed, Giles and William visited 
Niagara, taking with them a drove of cattle to conceal the 
object of their visit, well knowing that if their real business 
should become known she would be kept out of their way. 
But they could gain no intelligence of her. In 1793 another 
brother visited Buffalo to attend an Indian treaty, but was 
equally unsuccessful. 

"In 1797 four of the brothers, including Isaac, started 
from Wyoming with a drove of cattle and a quantity of dry 
goods on another search. When they arrived at Seneca Lake, 
N. Y., three of the brothers took the goods into an open boat, 
while Isaac drove the cattle to Queenston, where they met 
and proceeded together to Chippewa, where they again part- 
ed, Isaac driving the cattle through Canada to Detroit, and 
the others going by water. When he arrived at Detroit he 
was without shoes, nearly destitute of clothing and almost 
famished for want of food. In order to appreciate the trials 
and sufferings of these brothers in search of their sister, it 
must be recollected that the Canadas and the northwestern 
portion of the United States were, in 1797, little else than an 

* Isaac Slocum, who outlived all his brothers and sisters, died at Belle- 
vue, Ohio, Aug. 26, 1858, in the 84th year of his age. 


unbroken wilderness, inhabited by wild beasts and savage 
tribes, with here and there a trading post or fort. 

"On this trip through the Canadas Mr. Slocum made a 
diligent search among the different tribes, and finally called 
together five Indian traders and offered them a reward of $300 
if they would find his sister and bring her to Detroit, but all 
in vain. He wept and entreated, and they seemed to sym- 
pathize in his sorrows, but after consultation among them- 
selves, told him they could not tell him if they knew ! They 
were obliged to return home without any intelligence of their 
sister, after having spent the whole summer in the search. 

" The following year they made another trip to the north 
and west, but with no better success, and were compelled to 
return disheartened and almost discouraged. 

"In the meantime the object of their visits had become 
known among the Indians, and Frances was kept out of the 
way, and finally brought by her Indian father to Fort Wayne 
and given to a chief of the Miamis who married her, she be- 
ing then about twenty-five years of age." 

Dr. Peck and other writers inform us that about this time 
a female captive, learning of the efforts made by the Slocums 
to recover their lost one, and hoping that she might be recog- 
nized as the real Frances, came to Mrs. Slocum and told her 
that she was taken prisoner somewhere on the Susquehanna 
when a child, and was anxious to find her friends. She knew 
not the name of her father, nor her own name, but she had 
come to see if Mrs. Slocum was not her real mother. Mrs. 
Slocum quickly saw that she was not Frances, but she bade 
her welcome. "Stay with me," she said, "as long as thee 
pleases; perhaps some one else may extend the like kindness 
to my dear Frances." The stranger remained a few months, 
but finding that none of the attachments and sympathies of 
natural relationship existed between them, took her depart- 
ure, and the Slocums heard of her no more. 


The eighteenth century had drawn to a close and the 
mystery surrounding the disappearance of the child remained 
as deep and impenetrable as ever to her mother, brothers and 
sisters. Finally the mother went down sorrowing to the 
grave without finding the least trace of her lost one, but left 
with her sons a solemn charge never to give up the search so 
long as the possibility remained of their recovering their sis- 
ter, or of learning the circumstances of her story or fate, and 
the sequel will show how faithfully they carried out her dying 
injunction. Mrs. Slocum, borne down with grief and years, 
died May 6, 1807, aged 71 years, i month and 15 days, and 
was laid beside her husband in the graveyard at Wilkes- 
Barre, who had preceded her 28 years, 4 months and 20 days.« 

Some years ago all the bodies were removed from the old 
graveyard, but there were no remains of the Slocums to be 
moved. Their memory is preserved, however, by the follow- 
ing inscription on the Slocum monument in the HoUenback 

Jonathan Slocum, 

With his family, emigrated from Rhode Island to Wyoming 

Valley in 1777. Was massacred at Wilkes- 

Barre by the Indians Dec. 16, 

1778, aged 45 years. 

Ruth Tripp, 

Wife of Jonathan Slocum, died at Wilkes-Barre 

May 6, 1807, aged 71 years. 

When she died Frances had been lost to her for 29 years, 
6 months and 4 days; and of her ten children, all were known 
by her to be living but one. And that one lived as a child of 
the forest, but she knew it not. How inexpressibly sad is 
the story of the life and death of this noble Christian woman! 
If it had been vouchsafed to her to know that her wandering 


daughter lived on the plains of the west, and was well cared 
for and happy, she could have departed with the conscious- 
ness, at least, of knowing that she had not suffered a cruel 
death at the hands of the savages. Mrs. Slocum lived and 
died greatly respected ; "but," says R.ev. John Todd in his 
Lost Sister^ "the brightest smile that ever played upon her 
lips was saddened by the memory of her lost child. Probably 
it was the deepest image which time had graven on her heart. 
She slept in death almost consoled by the belief that her child 
had long since ceased from among the living. But that 
Providence whose ways had been so mysterious and whose 
hand had covered the event with so thick a veil, had deter- 
mined that the veil should not always remain drawn over it. 
His eye and His hand had guided the little captive, and she 
was not amono^ the dead." 



r^^^ORTY-BlGHT years had now passed, and no light 
had been thrown npon the mysterious fate of the 
abducted child. If living she must now be over 
fifty years of age. The strange fate which had befallen her 
was the constant theme of conversation among the brothers 
and sisters who survived, for three of them had passed away, 
viz: Giles, Judith and William. The latter, it will be re- 
membered, was present when his father and grandfather were 
killed, December i6, 1778, and was wounded in the heel by 
a spent ball from an Indian rifle. 

The six survivors, viz: Ebenezer, Benjamin, Isaac, Joseph, 
Jonathan and Mary, had not forgotten the dying request of 
their mother to keep up the search until they were satisfied 
what had become of Frances. They were constantly on the 
alert. Letters of inquiry were written and information sought 
of persons dwelling in the west and Canada, but still no clue 
could be obtained. 

Finally, when the mission among the Wyandot Indians* 
became a matter of public interest, and the chiefs Between- 
the-Logs and Me-nun-cu were converted, the report that the 
former had a white woman for his wife came to their knowl- 
edge, and the idea of the possibility of her being Frances, 

* Dr. Peck's History of Wyoming, p. 246. 


induced Mr. Joseph Slocum, attended by a nephew, to visit 
the mission. Accordingly, in 1826, they made a weary and 
expensive journey to Upper Sandusky, and found the woman, 
but they were soon convinced that she was not the one whom 
they sought. They were received with great hospitality and 
kindly treated, and came away deeply impressed with regard 
to the influence of Christianity upon the moral character and 
social condition of these Indians. 

For almost half a century hope had been fondly cherished 
in the minds of the Slocums of some light being thrown upon 
the history or fate of Frances, but all efforts to gain informa- 
tion with regard to her having utterly failed, they began to 
despair. No wonder. They had spent much time and thou- 
sands of dollars; they had made many long and perilous 
journeys; they had offered large rewards and enlisted Indian 
agents and traders in the object of their search, but not the 
slightest trace of the captive had yet been developed, notwith- 
standing others knew of her existence. And had they known 
when at Sandusky that they were within two hundred miles 
of her cabin, how joyfully and swiftly would they have hast- 
ened thither ! 

But the cup of her destiny was not yet full. The last that 
the survivors of the family knew of her was that she was 
borne away on the shoulders of a stout Indian, on a bleak 
November day in 1778, and as he disappeared in the thickets 
of the swamp, the frantic shrieks of the child died away in 
the distance and were heard no more. From that sad moment 
an impenetrable cloud (to them) of darkness had enshrouded 
her, which all efforts on their part failed to penetrate.* How 
appropriate the lines of the poet : 

" They searched through many a forest wild, 
And swelHng rivers crossed ; 
* Todd's lost sister p. 110. 


And yet the years brought on their wings 
No tidings of the lost. 

' ' Age sprinkled on their heads its ; 

They cherished still that name ; 
But from the forests of the west g^ CCO'4 »> CI 

No tale of Frances came." OOiwXoO 

Nearly sixty years had now passed. The lame boy who 
had been saved from captivity by his mother's appeal was 
still alive, as well as the sister who had escaped savage ven- 
geance with her infant brother in her arms. A thousand 
times the family had talked over the events of that fearful 
day, and the probability of the removal of the veil of mys- 
tery which enshrouded the subject was now becoming ex- 
ceedingly faint,* if it had not wholly passed away ; the 
search was given over, and it almost ceased to be a matter of 
conversation, excepting as the capture of the child, and the 
great efforts which had been made for her discovery, were 
connected with the history of the beautiful and romantic 
valley in which she once lived. More than a generation had 
passed, and the wonderful story was only known to those 
who read brief sketches of it in newspapers, magazines and 

This was the condition of affairs when suddenly startling 
news of the discovery of a white woman living among the 
Indians of a western State was received, and a new and ex- 
citing scene in this wonderful drama is about to open to our 
vision, apparently by accident, but really under the guiding 
hand of Providence; and a train of circumstances brought to 
light the whereabouts of the long lost Frances, and quickly 
revived the flickering spark of memory which had almost 
faded out of the minds of her brothers and sisters. How 
strange and yet how gratifying must this unexpected intelli- 

* Dr. Peck's Hist, of "Wyoming, p. 247. 


gence have been! With what emotions mnst the news have 
been received ! They could scarcely credit the report, be- 
cause they had been so often deceived before and their hopes 
of success dashed to earth just at the moment they expected 
to solve the mystery. 

Many accounts of the discovery have been published, but 
as they are nearly all out of print, and therefore inaccessible 
to the present generation, it is deemed best to be more explicit 
in giving the details in this narrative, so that our readers may 
clearly comprehend the story. 

We now take the reader to Indiana, in the valley washed 
by the Wabash River and its tributaries. Here we find Col. 
George W. Ewing, an Indian trader, living at Logansport, 
and carrying on a large business with the Miami Indians. 

Colonel Ewing having acquired the language of this and 
other tribes, and having business with their head men, often 
made journeys through the wilderness and among the Indian 
settlements. On one of these journeyings, when returning 
from Fort Wayne (Ke-ki-ong-a of the Miamis), he was be- 
nighted at what was known as "The Deaf Man's Village," 
situated on the Mississenewa, a few miles above its junction 
with the Wabash. Feeling the need of a stopping place for 
the night, he asked for and was kindly granted the hospitality 
of a respectable Indian cabin. The mistress of the dwelling 
was a venerable and respectable looking Indian woman, who 
received him with great kindness and strove to make him 
comfortable. She presented a marked appearance, and he 
noticed that great deference was paid her by the whole family 
circle, composed of children and grandchildren. Being weary 
and rather indisposed, after his journey of the day, after 
partaking of some refreshments provided for him, he laid 
himself down to rest on a bed made of deer skins and blankets 


in a corner of the room. The inmates soon disappeared, 
with the exception of the venerable head of the family, who 
remained to attend to some light household duties for the 
night. He could not sleep, and as he tossed on his bed his 
attention was attracted to the aged woman as she appeared 
before him. There was something peculiarly striking in her 
appearance and hair^ and the more he observed her the more 
he became impressed with the idea that she might be a white 
woman, though she wore the costume of the tribe and was in 
style and manners a thorough Indian. 

' ' Night shrouds the western wilderness — 

A traveler is there ; 
And worn and wearied much he begs 

The red man's fire to share. 

' ' Within the hut sits one who seems 

Of something fair the wreck ; 
No Indian trace was in her hair, 

Nor olive on her neck. 

' ' The stranger asked her if her home 

In childhood's day had been 
Within the red man's smoky hut, 

With barbarous kith and kin. 

"She said the red man's cot was not 

The home her childhood knew; 
Penn's glorious sky once o'er her hung 

Its canopy of blue ! ' ' 

As she moved about and accidentally bared one of her 
arms above the elbow, he noticed that the skin was white! 
This discovery almost convinced him that he was right in 
his conjectures and he commenced a conversation with her in 
the Miami tongue. On gaining her confidence somewhat he 
pointedly asked her if she was not a white woman I This 
question seemed to startle her at first, and she evaded answer- 
ing it directly. But on continuing the conversation she be- 


came more composed and confidential, and reflecting, perhaps, 
that she had but a short time to live, she frankly told him 
that she ivas not an Indian ; she was by birth a white woman. 
Colonel Ewing at once became greatly interested in her, and 
on pressing her to relate the story of her life, she told him 
that when a little girl she had been captured by the Indians 
on the Susquehanna, carried away, adopted into an Indian 
family and reared by them. This was a great many years 
ago. She had never had any communication with the whites, 
and was taught to distrust them. She had to all intents and 
purposes become an Indian, and knew nothing about the 
manners and customs of the whites. She did not remember 
her name and could not speak her mother tongue. She 
thought her father's name was Slocum, and that he was a 
Quaker. The recital of her story greatly interested Colonel 
Ewing, and the more he thought over it the more he became 
impressed with its mystery. 

In the morning Colonel Ewing mounted his horse and 
prepared to set out on his journey for Logansport, some 
twenty-five miles away. He bade the old lady and family 
farewell with much feeling. In accordance with Indian cus- 
tom they refused to receive any compensation for their hos- 
pitality. As he rode along and thought over the strange story 
that had been related to him, he became more interested, and 
determined to make some effort to discover the friends of the 
white woman. Reaching home he told his mother what he 
had learned. At once the feelings of a mother's heart awoke, 
and she urged her son to write to the Indian woman's friends, 
telling him that the information would no doubt be a source 
of great joy to them. But how could he do it ? She did not 
know where they lived — all she remembered was that she had 
been carried away from the banks of the Susquehanna when 
a child. 


After much reflection he concluded to write to some one 
in the interior of Pennsylvania, but as he knew no one there, 
he was forced to abandon that idea. He then wrote a letter 
and addressed it to the postmaster at Lancaster, thinking that 
inasmuch as it was an old and important town, near the Sus- 
quehanna River, the postmaster might know if any child had 
been lost by the earlier settlers, and would take sufficient in- 
terest to make the Indiana discovery known. Following is 
a copy of the important letter written by Col. Ewing: 

lyOGANSPORT, Ind., Jan. 20, 1835. 

Dear Sir : In the hope that some good may result from it, I 
have taken this means of giving to your fellow citizens — say the 
descendants of the early settlers of the Susquehanna— the follow- 
ing information; and if there be any now living whose name is 
Slocum, to them, I hope, the following may be communicated 
through the public prints of your place : 

There is now living near this place, an aged white woman, who 
a few days ago told me, while I lodged in the camp one night, 
that she was taken away from her father's house, on or near the 
Susquehanna River, when she was very young — say from five to 
eight years old, as she thinks — by the Delaware Indians, who 
were then hostile toward the whites. She says her father's name 
was Slocum; that he was a Quaker, rather small in stature, and 
wore a large brimmed hat; was of sandy hair and light complex- 
ion and much freckled; that he lived about half a mile from a 
town where there was a fort; that they lived in a wooden house of 
two stories high, and had a spring* near the house. She says 
three Delawares came to the house in the daytime, when all were 
absent but herself, and perhaps two other children; her father and 

* The lot where Jonathan Slocum's house stood, and whence Frances 
was taken Nov. 2, 1778, is on the corner of North Canal and North streets, 
Wilkes-Barre, Pa., and is now owned by Mrs. Martha Bennett Phelps and 
Mr. George Slocum Bennett, grandchildren of Judge Joseph Slocum. It is 
vacant, and not a trace of the original log house remains. The spring, on 
account of the march of improvement, has entirely disapiieared. There 
are several manufactories in the vicinity, the Lehigh Valley railroad passes 
within one block, and an electric passenger railway is operated on Canal 


brothers were absent working in the field. The Indians carried 
her off, and she was adopted into a family of Delawares, who 
raised her and treated her as their own child. They died about 
forty years ago, somewhere in Ohio. She was then married to a 
Miami, by whom she had four children; two of them are now liv- 
ing — they are both daughters — and she lives with them. Her 
husband is dead; she is old and feeble, and thinks she will not 
live long. 

These considerations induced her to give the present history of 
herself, which she would never do before, fearing that her kindred 
would come and force her away. She has lived long and happy as 
an Indian, and, but for her color, would not be suspected of being 
anything else than such. She is very respectable and wealthy, 
sober and honest. Her name is without reproach. She says her 
father had a large family, say eight children in all — six older than 
herself, one younger, as well as she can recollect; and she doubts 
not there are yet living many of their descendants, but seems to 
think that all her brothers and sisters must be dead, as she is very 
old herself, not far from the age of eighty. She thinks she was 
taken prisoner before the two last wars, which must mean the 
Revolutionary war, as Wayne's war and the late war have been 
since that one. She has entirely lost her mother tongue, and 
speaks only in Indian, which I also understand, and she gave me 
a full history of herself 

Her own Christian name she has forgotten, but sa^^s her 
father's name was Slocum, and he was a Quaker. She also recol- 
lects that it was upon the Susquehanna River that they lived, but 
don't recollect the name of the town near which they lived. I 
have thought that from this letter you might cause something to 
be inserted in the newspapers of your country that might possibly 
catch the eye of some of the descendants of the Slocum family, 
who have knowledge of a girl having been carried off by the In- 
dians some seventy years ago. This they might know from family 
tradition. If so, and they will come here, I will carry them where 
they may see the object of my letter alive and happy, though old 
and far advanced in life. 

I can form no idea whereabout upon the Susquehanna River 
this family could have lived at that early period, namely, about the 
time of the Revolutionary war, but perhaps you can ascertain 
more about it. If so, I hope you will interest yourself, and, if 


possible, let her brothers and sisters, if any be alive — if not, their 
children — know where they may once more see a relative whose 
fate has been wrapped in mystery for seventj^ years, and for whom 
her bereaved and afflicted parents doubtless shed many a bitter 
tear. They have long since found their graves, though their lost 
child they never found. I have been much affected with the dis- 
closure, and hope the surviving friends may obtain, through your 
goodness, the information I desire for them. If I can be of any 
service to them, they may command me. In the meantime, I hope 
you will excuse me for the freedom I have taken with you, a total 
stranger, and believe me to be, sir, with much respect. 
Your obedient servant, 

Geo. W. Ewing. 

Though the postal facilities were slow at that day, compar- 
ed with what they are now, the letter reached its destination. 
It happened that Mrs. Mary Dickson* was the postmistress, 
and owner of the Lancaster Intelligence}' I But strange as it 
may seem, she took no interest in the letter, and throwing it 
aside it laid for two years among a lot of old papers and let- 
ters which were deemed worthless. Here was another of 
those strange interpositions, as it were, to keep the knowledge 
of the existence of the captive from her friends. If she read 
the letter, her stupidity in not comprehending its importance 
and the value it would be to her readers as a strange Indian 
story, if nothing more, is only equaled by that shown by 
Col. Thomas Proctor forty-four years before, when he met 
Frances on the Allegheny River among the Seneca Indians, 
and wrote her name in his journal after paying her a small 
sum of money, but did not possess sufficient thoughtfulness, 
interest or sympathy, to impart the information to her brother 
Giles, who had met him only three weeks before, and begged 
his " interposition " to recover her. 

* The records in the Department at Washin-rton sliow that Mary Dickson 
was appointed postmaster at Lancaster, Pa., Ai)ril 17, 182i), and served until 
Nov. 19, 1850. She was succeeded, at that date, by George W. Ilammersley, 
who served until April -1. 1853, His successor was Henry M. Keig, 


But there was a Providence in the discovery of the lost 
one, and would that Providence, which was concerned in the 
first development, allow the light to die out, and the whole 
matter to remain hidden from the vision of those so deeply 
interested in the revelation until they should pass away ? We 
shall see. 

The letter which the careless postmistress had treated so 
indiiferently, finally fell into the hands of another person — 
whose name is known — who at once recognized its import- 
ance, and sought an opportunity to give it publicity. The 
Intelligencer had recently been sold by Mrs. Dickson, and in 
March, 1837, John W. Forney,* then a young man, became 
one of the editors and publishers, and at once entered on 
what proved to be a brilliant career as a journalist and politi- 
cian. The letter was handed to him by the lucky finder, 
who called his attention to the suggestion of Col. Ewing. 
Through his journalistic instinct Forney at once saw its im- 
portance and published it in his paper. 

Here Providence seems to have again interposed and, saved 
the important letter, destined to unravel a great mystery, 
from final oblivion. And another interesting fact in this con- 
nection is worthy of special mention. The letter made its 
appearance in a large extra edition of the paper containing 
some temperance documents, and these were sent to the 
clergymen generally through that part of the State. One of 
these fell into the hands of Rev. Samuel Bowman, t a distin- 
guished Episcopal minister, who, when a young man, had 
resided in Wilkes-Barre, and was acquainted with several 
members of the Slocum family. He had often heard from 

* Ellis & Evans' Hist, of Lancaster Co., (1883,) p. 499. 

t For a very full biographical sketch of this brilliant and eloquent di- 
vine, who died an Episcopal Bishop Aug. 3, 1861, near Pittsburg, see Hist, 
of Lancaster County, Pa., by EUis & Evans, p. 466. 


them the melancholy story of the capture of their sister, and 
well knew the strenuous efforts they had made for many long, 
dark and weary years to find her. He immediately mailed 
one of these papers to her brother, Joseph Slocum, who lived 
at Wilkes-Barre, and the wonderful developments made by 
the letter almost threw the community into a state of frenzied 
excitement. Mr. Slocum and his friends wondered and pon- 
dered over the strange but gratifying news. INIany sore dis- 
appointments had been encountered before, but now Mr. 
Slocum felt that light was beginning to dawn, and that the 
veil of mystery which had concealed the fate of his sister for 
nearly sixty years was about to be lifted. It is true there was 
no mother living to say " Frances is yet alive, and I will go 
and see her before I die!" but there were brothers, a sister, 
and a large circle of nephews and nieces, whose hearts leaped 
for joy at the prospect of at least learning the veritable his- 
tory of Frances, who had been for so many years in savage 
life, utterly lost to kindred, friends and civilization. Her 
father had died a cruel death nearly fifty-nine years before, 
and almost twenty-nine had passed since her sorrowing mother 
was laid by his side. 

The relatives at once took steps to collect all possible in- 
formation they could for the purpose of verifying the story, 
and a correspondence was at once commenced between Jona- 
than J. Slocum, Esq., son of Mr. Joseph Slocum, and Colonel 
Ewing, as follows: 

Wilkes-Barre, Pa., Aug. 8, 1837. 
Geo. W. Ewing, Esq., 

^ear Sir : At the suggestion of my father and other relations, 
I have taken the liberty to write to you, although an entire 

We have received, but a few days since, a letter written by you 
to a gentleman in Lancaster, of this State, upon a subject of deep 
and intense interest to our family. How the matter should have 


lain so long wrapped in obscurity we cannot conceive. An aunt 
of mine — sister of mj'- father— was taken away when five years 
old, bj' the Indians, and since then we have onlj^ had vague and 
indistinct rumors upon the subject. Your letter we deem to have 
entirely revealed the whole matter, and set everything at rest. 
The description is so perfect, and the incidents (with the exception 
of her age) so correct, that we feel confident. 

Steps will be taken immediately to investigate the matter, and 
we will endeavor to do all in our power to restore a lost relative 
who has been sixty years in Indian bondage. 

Your friend and obedient servant, 

Jon. J. Slocum. 

What must have been the surprise as well as gratification 
of Col. Ewing to receive this letter? Over two years had 
passed since he had written to the postmaster at Lancaster, 
and it is reasonable to suppose that he, in the hurry and rush 
of business, had almost forgotten the circumstance, but he 
had not. He immediately, as will be perceived by the date, 
replied as follows: 

LoGANSPORT, Ind., Aug. 26, 1837. 
Jon. J. Slocum, Esq., Wilkes-Barre, 

(Dear Sir : I have the pleasure of acknowledging the receipt of 
your letter of the 8th instant, and in answer can add, that the 
female I spoke of in Januarys 1835, is still alive ; nor can I for a 
moment doubt but that she is the identical relative that has been 
so long lost to your family. 

I feel much gratified to think that I have been thus instrument- 
al in disclosing to yourself and friends such facts in relation to 
her as will enable you to visit her and satisfy yourselves more 
fully. She recovered from the temporarj^ illness b}^ which she was 
afflicted about the time I spent the night with her in January, 1835, 
and which was, no doubt, the cause that induced her to speak so 
freely of her early captivity. 

Although she is now, by long habit, an Indian, and her man- 
ners and customs precisely theirs, yet she will doubtless be happy 
to see an}^ of you, and I myself will take great pleasure in accom- 
panying you to the house. Should you come out for that purpose, 


I advise you to repair directly to this place ; and should it so hap- 
pen that I should be absent at the time, you will find others who 
can take j-ou to her. Bring with you this letter; show it to James 
T. Miller, of Peru, Ind., a small town not far from this place. He 
knows her well. He is a young man whom we have raised. He 
speaks the Miami tongue and will accompany you if I should not 
be at home. Inquire for the old white woman, mother-in-law to 
Brouillette, living on the Mississinewa River, about ten miles 
above its mouth. There you will find the long lost sister of your 
father, and, as I before stated, you will not have to blush on her 
account. She is highly respectable, and her name as an Indian is 
without reproach. Her daughter, too, and her son-in-law, Brou- 
illette, who is also a half-blood, being part French, are both very 
respectable and interesting people — none in the nation are more so. 
As Indians they live well, and will be pleased to see you. Should 
you visit here this fall, I may be absent, as I purpose starting for 
New York in a few days, and shall not be back till some time in 
October. But this need not stop you; for, although I should be 
gratified to see you, yet it will be sufficient to learn that I have 
furthered your wishes in this truly interesting matter. 

The very kind manner in which you have been pleased to speak 
of me shall be full}' appreciated. 

There are perhaps men who could have heard her story un- 
moved; but for me, I could not; and when I reflected that there 
was, perhaps, still lingering on this side of the grave some brother 
or sister of that ill-fated woman, to whom such information would 
be deeply interesting, I resolved on the course which I adopted, 
and entertained the fond hope that my letter, if ever it should go 
before the public, would attract the attention of some one inter- 
ested. In this it seems, at last, I have not been disappointed, 
although I have long since supposed it had failed to effect the 
object for which I wrote it. I^ike you, I regret that it should have 
been delayed so long, nor can I conceive how any one should 
neglect to publish such a letter. 

As to the age of this female, I think she herself is mistaken, 
and that she is not so old as she imagines herself to be. Indeed, 
I entertain no doubt but that she is the same person that your 
family have mourned after for more than half a century past. 
Your obedient humble .servant, 

Geo. W. Ewing. 


The denouement had come. The kind hearted Indian 
trader had made it plain what course the brothers should 
pursue to meet and identify their long lost sister. That she 
was the person whom they sought, there was scarcely a doubt 
any longer. Col. Ewing* was justified in expressing his grat- 
ification at having performed a duty in the interest of Christ- 
ian civilization which would bring happiness and joy to many 
households, and cause the weary wanderer in the wilderness 
to realize the true history of her origin, and what became of 
her parents, brothers and sisters, whom she dimly recollected 
as once dwelling on the Susquehanna. The way was now 
plain, and the dramatic scenes which soon followed will be 
related in another chapter. 

* Alexander, the father of Col. Ewing, was born in Pennsylvania in 176o, 
but at what place is unknown. He served in the Revolution; in 1787 he 
was a trader among the Indians and established himself on wdiat is now 
the site of the city of Buffalo. A few years later he settled on a farm on 
the Genessee Flats. There he married Charlotte Griffith about 1795, and 
there his eldest son, Charles W. Ewing, and a daughter, were born. Meet- 
ing with reverses, Mr. Ewing removed west in 1802, and settled on the river 
Raisin, in the Territory of Michigan. There three more sons, William G., 
Alexander H., and George W., the discoverer of Frances Slocum, were born. 
In 1807 the family moved to Troy, near Piqua, Ohio, where they lived until 
1822. The elder Ewing served under Harrison in 1812-13, and was at the 
battle of the Thames. In 1822 he moved his family to Fort Wayne and 
settled, and there he died in 1827. The sons became extensive Indian tra- 
ders and acquired great wealth. Some time in 1830 George W. established 
a trading post at Logansport, Indiana, where he carried on a large business. 
In 1846 he removed to St. Louis. The firm of William G. and George W. 
Ewing became very rich. The senior member left nearly a million when 
he died, and the estate of the junior reached a million and a quarter. He 
died May 29, 1866, at Fort Wayne, and was buried in the family tomb at 
that place. 



S SPEEDILY as possible it was arranged that Mr. 
Joseph Slociim, then residing in Wilkes-Barre, 
should proceed to Ohio and join his sister, Mrs. 
Mary Towne, who lived in the central part of the State, and 
push on with her by private conveyance to Indiana. His 
brother Isaac, who had emigrated to Ohio as early as 1823, 
and located in Sandusky County, near Bellevue, in Huron 
County, was to meet them somewhere near the residence of 
their supposed sister in Indiana. This was in September, 
1837. Isaac, who lived less than 200 miles from the village 
of the Miamis, pushed on rapidly and arrived in advance of 
his brother and sister. He was extremely anxious to meet 
the captive, and becoming tired waiting for Joseph and Mary, 
hunted up James T. Miller, the interpreter, and proceeded to 
the cabin of the venerable woman so accurately described by 
Col. Ewing. He found her, to all appearance, a perfect In- 
dian. He had fixed in his mind an infallible mark of distinc- 
tion. Before she was captured, one of her brothers, while 
they were playing in the blacksmith shop, had struck the 
fore finger of her left hand with a hammer, and so injured 
the bone that the nail was permanently destroyed, and the 
finger otherwise disfigured. She received him with the sto- 
ical indifference of the Indian, and did not manifest any sur- 


prise at his presence. After some conversation he observed 
that her finger was disfigured, and taking hold of her hand 
led her to the light and examined it more carefully. The 
mark remained, with very little change naturally caused by 
the lapse of time and ravages of age. With his heart swell- 
ing with emotion he asked her through the interpreter: 

" How came that finger injured ? " 

" My brother struck it with a hammer in the shop, a long 
time ago, before I was carried away," was the answer. 

This was conclusive evidence to him of her identity, and 
he was satisfied beyond a doubt that the real Frances Slo- 
cum, for whom he and his brothers had so long searched in 
vain, had been found. How the memories of the long ago 
crowded on his mind and brought up fresh recollections of 
the golden-haired and prattling child. What a supreme mo- 
ment of satisfaction, blended with grief and sorrow! She 
stood before him an aged Indian woman with wrinkled face 
and hair silvered by the frosts of nearly sixty years! She was 
not as his fond imagination pictured her in the days of their 
childhood on the banks of the Susquehanna, but there could 
be no doubt of her identity. She was Frances. 

While these thoughts were rushing through his mind, and 
tears of satisfaction filled his eyes, the Indian woman said 
little and betrayed scarcely any emotion. She was suspicious, 
and evidently had no confidence in the claims of the stranger 
to be her brother. She had been taught that white men were 
deceptive and wicked, and this belief was evidently well 
grounded in her mind. 

Sadl}^ Mr. Slocum turned away, bade her adieu, and re- 
traced his steps to the town of Peru, nine miles distant, where 
he anxiously awaited the arrival of his brother Joseph and 
sister, Mrs. Towne. 


After several days spent in deep solicitude and weary 
watching they came. Their journey had been a toilsome 
one, as most of the way led over corduroy roads and through 
a country comparatively new. Houses were widely sepa- 
rated and of the most primitive character at that day. Few 
persons so far advanced in life — they were 69 and 62 years of 
age, Mrs. Towne being the elder — could have performed 
such miracles of endurance. But it was hope and anxiety 
that buoyed them up. After resting a short time to recover 
their wasted energies, they made preparations to proceed on 
their way to the house of the lost sister. Miller, the inter- 
preter, and a young man named James B. Fulwiler,* who 
had recently settled in Peru, accompanied them. Taking the 
Indian path — for there were no fine roads up the river like 
there are to-day — they soon came to the first Indian village 
on the Mississinewa, a short distance .above its junction with 
the Wabash. Here a remnant of the Miami tribe lived in 
small cabins scattered among the long blue grass which, 
without cultivation, covered the luxuriant soil, and the corn 
fields needed but little care and attention. During the last 
war these villages had been burned by United States scouting 
parties, but were now restored. Here the travelers found 
many Indians. Some were lounging about their huts, while 
others were at work in their corn fields, with their ponies 
tied near by — for an Indian will never walk if he can ride. 

* James B. Fulwiler was born in Perry County, Pa., Sept. 6, 1812. He 
was educated at Hopewell Academy and Gettysburg Gymnasium, now Penn- 
sylvania College. His father, William Fulwiler, was one of the early gradu- 
ates of Dickinson College, Carlisle, where he was born and reared, and died 
in 1830, leaving a large estate. His paternal ancestry is traceable through 
centuries into Switzerland. The mother of James was a cousin of Hon. 
Jeremiah S. Black, and a daughter of the Rev. James Black, of Pennsylva- 
nia, a Scottish divine. In 1834 the subject of this notice settled in Peru, 
Indiana, and has resided thei'e to the present time. He is a gentleman of 
culture, very intelligent, and an alderman. 


In the field they dry their corn and cook their food. At night 
they mount their bare-back ponies and go to their wigwams 
to sleep. 

At this point the path turned to the left from the Missis- 
sinewa and proceeded to the residence of Francis Godfroy, 
the last war chief of the Miamis. His settlement consisted 
of some five or six two-story log houses situated on a rising 
piece of ground not far from the Wabash River, and was 
called Mount Pleasant. Here his great store or trading post 
was located. His buildings stood within a square enclosure 
of about half an acre. A gateway admitted them to the 
buildings, which were quite respectable in appearance. On 
entering the main building the interpreter introduced them 
with much gravity to the chief and informed him of their 
errand. He received them with great dignity and politeness, 
and proffered them every assistance in his power to facilitate 
the success of their mission. Godfroy was a noble looking 
man, apparently over fifty years of age, majestic and solemn 
in countenance, and weighing over 300 pounds. He was 
dressed in a blue calico shirt, which came down to the 
knees and was profusely covered with ruffles. Indian leggins 
covered his lower extremities from the shirt down. He 
was over six feet in height, and when he arose, with his 
long hair gracefully tied in queue down his back, he would 
have made a splendid model for an artist. Nature had done 
much for this man. He had wealth and abundance around 
him, was noted for shrewdness and sagacity, and distinguish- 
ed for his hospitality. 

After a pleasant visit the party took their leave of the chief 
and hastened on a few miles to what was called the "Deaf 
Man's Village ", so named for a deceased chief Again they 
forded the Mississinewa, and entered the village in silence. 


There was an expectation of the fnlfilhnent of hopes which 
had been cherished for nearly sixty years. Such thoughts as 
these filled their minds: "Would she have any family like- 
ness by which they might know her? Would she have any 
family recollections by which she might be identified ? Would 
she be glad to see them, and if proved to be their sister would 
she return to the home of her birth and die where she was 
born? Would she be overcome at seeing them?" 

" I shall know her if she is my sister," said Mrs. Towne, 
"by having lost the nail of her left fore-finger — you, brother, 
remember how you pounded it off in the blacksmith shop 
about a year before we Ipst her !" 

" I do well remember it," he replied, and this was all they 
said until they stopped in front of a large log house, or rather 
two houses joined together by a shed.* 

When the Slocums and party entered the dwelling they 
found the mistress of the house quietly sitting in her chair. 
She received them formally, if not coldly, and after the cere- 
mony of introduction by the interpreter, she did not seem 
disposed to converse freely. In a short time, however, she 
relaxed somewhat in her rigidity, and gave a brief account 
of her family and the circumstances of her capture ; but 
seemed utterly unmoved, and not free from suspicion that 
there was some plan in operation to take her away or rob her 
of what she possessed. 

* Many accounts of the famous meeting have been written, but tliey 
nearly all difi'er, because of the lapse of time and the carelessness of the 
writers. The best and most reliable are those given by Kev. John Todd 
and Rev. Dr. Peck, because they derived their data mainly from members 
of the family, only a few years after the visit, and their narratives have 
been followed, with the addition of other details which subsequent research 
has developed. The former wrote nearly fifty years ago, and the latter 
about thirty-two, but their works have nearly all disappeared ; and when 
found they are discovered to be lacking in that detail which the careful 
reader would expect them to have given. 


During this time the brothers walked the floor with emo- 
tions too deep and overwhehning for utterance, while the 
sister (Mrs. Towne) wept copious tears. Their Indian sister, 
however, did not change a feature of her countenance, shed 
a tear or show any emotion. 

Mr. Fulwiler recently informed the writer that the scene 
at this juncture was the saddest, most pathetic and painful 
he had ever witnessed during his long life of nearly seventy- 
eight years, and he became so deeply impressed that he was 
compelled to leave the room. 

The brothers, in their grief, seemed to ask themselves the 
question : "Could it be possible that this aged and unmoved 
Indian woman was the dear little Frances, whose sweet smiles 
lingered in their memories, and which they could scarcely 
identify with her now ? Had she been metamorphosed into 
this stoical, iron-hearted Indian woman — old, wrinkled, and 
cold as an iceberg?" 

But there could be no mistake about it; the proofs were 
clear, convincing and overwhelming. She said her father's 
name was Slocum: he was a Quaker, and wore a broad-brim- 
med hat; he lived near a fort by a great river; she had seven 
brothers and two sisters; her brother hammered off her finger 
nail; she was taken from under the stairway; three Indians 
took her, with several others, a great many winters ago, when 
she was a little child. The question of identity was settled. 
Continuing she informed them that she was now a widow. 
Her husband was a chief She had two daughters; the 
younger of the two had lost her husband; the husband of 
the elder was a half-breed — his father was a Frenchman — his 
name was Brouillette, who managed the out door affairs of 
the family, subject always to the views and feelings of the 
queen mother-in-law. The family circle scrupulously fol- 


lowed the lead of the venerated head of the household, mak- 
ing no advances, exhibiting no emotion. On this occasion 
one chord more tender than all the rest was touched. The 
long lost sister had forgotten her own name. She was asked 
if she could remember it if she would hear it mentioned. 
Her answer was: " It is a long time; I do not know. " "Was' 
it Frances?" asked one of the party. Something like emo- 
tion instantly agitated her iron-cast features, and it was evi- 
dent that an idea was struggling through the dark recesses of 
her mind, when a smile illumined her countenance and she 
answered: "Yes, Franca, Franca!" The clouds of darkness 
which had obscured her mind so long were slowly rolled away, 
and she recollected the endearing name of her childhood. 

' ' They found her there — the one for whom 

They searched as for a gem ; 
And sore they wept, as memory brought 

The dreamlike past to them. 

" But she was calm and passionless, 

And as a statue still ; 
There were no chords within her breast 

At memory's touch to thrill. 

" They questioned her, and asked her name ! 

She said she could not tell ! 
They breathed that long loved name to her— 

She smiled and knew it well. 

" They wept, and wept with burning tears — 

That could not be repressed ; 
For she was dark — and knew not e'en 

When came the Day of Rest." 

The painful situation changed a little, but very slowly. 
The hospitalities of the house were never denied to respecta- 
ble strangers, and, of course, would be offered to the Slocums. 
When the conversation was concluded the Indian queen went 
about her business, apparently with as much indifference as 



thoiig-h nothing of interest had happened. The party sur- 
veyed the premises and were pleased to find everything in 
excellent order for an Indian residence. Returning from a 
stroll they observed the sister seated on the floor at work at a 
deerskin, which was nearly ready for use. She was scraping 
the rough places with a knife and reducing its rigidity by 
friction. She paid little attention to the strangers, only an- 
swering when addressed through the interpreter. The daugh- 
ters evidently observed the strangers with interest, but Indian 
like, only cast at them side glances when they thought they 
were not observed. 

The company proposed to the sister to accompany them, 
with her son-in-law and daughters, to Peru. She could not 
give them a positive answer until she rode over and consulted 
Chief Godfroy. He advised her to comply with the request, 
assuring her that she would be in no danger from the respect- 
able strangers; that, being her relatives, they had certainly 
visited her with none other than the most friendly intentions. 
Her hesitancy before giving an affirmative answer showed the 
cautiousness as well as suspicion of the Indian. The advice 
of the chief assured her, however, and she gave her consent, 
when the party returned and took supper together at the ho- 
tel. Before separating for the night Frances promised to 
again visit them on the coming day, when a more particular 
account of her capture and succeeding history might reasona- 
bly be expected from her. 

In this connection the following extract from a letter writ- 
ten at Peru, September 27, 1837, to their friends in Pennsyl- 
vania, and published in the Wyoming Republican^ is given to 
complete the record of the visit more fully: 

" We arrived here on the 21st inst. The town is new and flour- 
ishing; situated on the north side of the Wabash, a little below 


the mouth of the Mississinewa, which empties in from the south. 
The last twenty-five miles was through the Miami Reserve, with- 
out any white inhabitants. We found Isaac Slocum here awaiting 
our arrival. He had visited the woman in the Reserve, mentioned 
in the letter of Mr. Ewing, and is perfectly satisfied that she is the 
sister taken captive in 1778. The next day we repaired to the 
village with Mr. Miller, the interpreter, together with Mr. Hunt, 
a half-breed that was educated at Col. Johnson's school, in the 
state of Kentucky, and another gentleman . Fording the Wabash 
at this place, we passed up the river to the Mississinewa, and in 
about five miles came to an Indian town, surrounded with blue 
grass pasturage and corn fields intermixed without order. Some 
of the natives were about their houses; others were at tents pitched 
in corn fields, gathering corn, their ponies standing saddled near 
the tents. Whenever they have any work to do at even so short 
a distance from their houses, they pitch a tent, cook and live there 
until the work is done, a few only returning to their houses at 
night. We soon after came to the seat of Godfroy, the second 
war chief of the Miamis, consisting of five or six two-storj^ houses, 
within an enclosure of perhaps half an acre, which we entered 
through a gate wide enough for a carriage to pass. Upon enter- 
ing the house, we were all introduced to the Chief by Mr. Miller, 
who told him our business in the nation. He received us very 
courteously, and proffered us all the assistance in his power. He 
is probably over 50 years of age, of portly and majestic appear- 
ance, being more than six feet high, well proportioned and weigh- 
ing about 320 pounds. He was dressed in leggings and a blue 
calico shirt that came down to the knee, profusely ornamented 
with ruffles of the same, his hair nearly half gray and tied in a 
queue hanging elegantly down his back. After taking leave of 
the Chief, we proceeded to Deaf Man's Village, the residence of 
the captive woman, a distance of about four miles further up the 
Mississinewa, where the natives were employed in the same way 
as before described. At one of which we found the husband of 
the youngest daughter of the captive woman. He mounted his 
pony and went with us to the village, where we were introduced 
to the captive, her two daughters, and Captain Brouillette, the 
husband of the elder. The girls are aged, one thirty-three and 
the other twenty-three. The youngest has three small children, 
but not by this husband. The elder had two, but both are dead. 


Capt. Brouillette is a half-breed Indian, of elegant appearance, 
very straight and slim, and about six feet high. Uncle Joseph at 
once recognized his sister, and after conversing with them some 
time, in the course of which we endeavored, by all means in our 
power, to gain their confidence, it was proposed to them to accom- 
pany us upon our return to Peru. Mr. Miller had to give the 
old lady very strong assurances that we had no intention to take 
her away contrary to her inclination before she would go; but at 
length she consented, and accompanied by her two daughters and 
their husbands, she returned with us to the town, where they 
then joined us at the supper table and appeared to be perfectly at 
ease. They had now become perfectly satisfied that we were their 
relations, and their confidence was so much strengthened that she 
felt justified in proffering us their friendship. This was done by 
one of them placing on the stand something wrapped in a white 
cloth, after which they spoke with the interpreter in a solemn 
manner, when he rose up and said that they were our friends, and 
by way of acknowledging themselves as such, they presented us 
with a piece of fresh venison, which they wished us to receive as 
a token of friendship. We then rose and thanked them and re- 
ceived the token, Mrs. Towne taking up the ham of venison and re- 
moving the cloth, which made them satisfied. The next morning 
they all came to breakfast with us, and the captive gave us, in the 
course of the day, all the history of her life which she could recol- 
lect. Mr. Miller, to whom we are greatly indebted, and Mr. Hunt 
acted as interpreters. I wrote down the narration in the words of 
the interpreter. There are not many striking incidents in her life, 
but she and her family, in their native costume, their extreme 
simplicity of manner, the natural modesty and solemnity of their 
deportment, formed the most interesting group I ever beheld. 
They are decidedly the most respectable family in the nation, and 
they are also very wealthy, having upward of a hundred horses 
and many cattle and hogs. Capt. Brouillette is the only Indian 
who cultivates corn with the plow. He has a yoke of oxen, and 
wagon, and frequently takes beef and other articles to market. 

"Mr. Miller, who has often passed the night with them, says 
they live well. They dress quite richly, and the old lady told me 
she had always had plenty and lived happily with the Indians. 
Her husband and two of his children were buried where she now 
lives, and she never can think of leaving her present abode. I 


cannot,help thinking she is right, for the family appears to be one 
of the most happy I ever saw. The two daughters have returned 
to see us several times. They are sensible and wish to be very 
sociable, but labor under a great difficulty in not understanding 
our language. The eldest presented Isaac Slocum with a pajr of 
moccasins for his wife, as he is to leave soon. The confidence 
they reposed in us seems to be complete and the more I see of 
these children of the wilderness, the more I respect their character. 
They have a natural politeness and good feeling that cannot be 
surpassed in the most polished circles; but this is not shown until 
they have every confidence in those around them; before that, in 
the presence of strangers, they are timorous and distant. They 
have just taken leave of us for home; it is four o'clock p. m., but 
they never hurry themselves. They frequently ride home, nine 
miles, most of the way through the woods, with as much sang 
/void as they would in the day time." 

To some readers it may seem that more sentiment was 
expressed over this meeting than was warranted by the facts, 
but they must remember the extraordinary and deeply mel- 
ancholy circumstances which surrounded the case. It stands 
without a parallel in American history. A sister is carried 
away in childhood, and after a search extending through a 
period of nearly sixty years, is found by her brothers and sis- 
ters changed in every respect into an Indian. She has lost 
the language of her people, and the memory of her parents, 
relatives, location, in fact everything pertaining to her early 
life is vague and uncertain. Her perversion from civilization 
is of interest to the ethnologist as well as to those who may 
look at it from a sentimental standpoint. 

The following extract from a letter written by the late 
Hon. Hendrick B. Wright, under date of Dec. 31, 1877, and 
addressed to Mrs. Lord Butler, of Wilkes-Barre, gives another 
version of how Frances Slocum (her aunt) came to reveal the 
secret of her history to Colonel Bwing. Colonel Wright says: 

"While in Congress, the XXXIII, I think, and probably in 
the year 1853, a gentleman of remarkably agreeable and pleasant 


deportment called on me at my hotel, in Washington, and intro- 
duced himself as George W. Ewing, of lyOgansport, Indiana. He 
said that he had been informed that I represented the Wilkes-Barre 
district of Pennsylvania, and he had come to speak to me on the 
subject of Frances Slocum, if agreeable to me. I told him that I 
was very glad that he had called on me, and nothing could please 
me more than to have a narrative from his own mouth of a matter 
which I, in common with all the people of Wilkes-Barre, and 
especially the Slocum family, which was numerous and highl}- 
respected, felt so much interest. 

' ' Colonel Kwing said that he had been on an excursion in the 
vicinity of the Deaf Man's Village, the residence of the white 
woman, widow of the chief whose name gave the title to the vil- 
lage, was belated, and darkness coming on, he concluded to remain 
over night at the house. He knew her well, and could speak the 
language of the people of her tribe. She provided me with a good 
supper and ordered wood to be piled on the big hearth, which sur- 
prised me, as our supper was -over and the Indian bed-time had 
arrived. After sitting a half hour or so, and talking over ordinary 
matters about her family, her crops and her cattle, and that she 
was well off in the necessaries of life, I told her that I would retire 
to my bed. She said ' No, I have something on my mind. I am 
old and weak. I shan't live long, and I must tell it. I can't die 
in peace if I don't.' 

' ' The Colonel said that here followed a long pause, during 
which she kept her e5^es constantly on the fire and her body mov- 
ing back and forth in her big arm chair, apparently in pain, at 
least in great agitation of mind. I did not wish to break the long 
silence. The famil}' had all left us; she and I were alone. 

"In this condition she remained at least a half hour. My 
mind was in an excitable state, for I could not of course divine 
what the secret was that she would disclose. Finally she motioned 
with her hand to the stairs, and before I reached the door she said, 
' Come back, I must tell it.' I came back and seated myself. A 
half hour more elapsed and no sound came from the woman's lips. 
I at last told her she could reveal it to me at another time. ' No, 
no,' she replied, 'I may die, I may die; and then I will have no 
rest in the Spirit World ! ' 

' ' She said she did not wish to keep her secret for any other 


person, because if she made it public her friends would come and 
carry her away from her home, and she wouldn't endure it — it 
would kill her. 

" I now began to understand that her secret had reference to the 
subject that it finally resulted in. 

' ' I then assured her that I would protect her in any attempt to 
remove her from her home or separate her from her children. Col. 
Ewing then stated that, with great hesitancy, she proceeded with 
her story, stopping often with her hand to her ear, and turning 
her head half round, as though some one was eavesdropping. 

" When she had completed the narrative she said: 'There, now, 
I can die. Oh ! you don't know how this has troubled me; some- 
thing all the time whispered in my ear, you must do it — you must 
do it, and now it is done — and the great load I have carried over 
fifty 5^ears is off my shoulders; I am a free woman !' 

" I have given as exact a statement as I remember, related to 
me by Col. Ewing a quarter of a century ago. I am almost cer- 
tain that what I have written has never before been offered in con- 
nection with the thrilling narrative of the captivity and life of 
Frances Slocum. The events of it will be read with interest by 
the people of this valley [Wyoming] in centuries to come — and 
long after the Indian race has become extinct — and not one of 
them lives to repeat the traditions of their exploits on the war 
path, and their wrongs bj' a higher race of civilized men. 

" Colonel Ewing'sname will be blended with the story of Fran- 
ces Slocum. When I met him he may have been forty years of 
age — of a tall, well built frame; very fine personal appearance — 
intelligent and sociable. From this acquaintance, thus com- 
menced, I would often spend leisure hours with him with much 
satisfaction, and our meetings, sooner or later, would always chal- 
lenge some conversation about poor Frances Slocum." 

The statements of Colonel Ewing as to her hesitancy, and 
the extreme caution she observed before relating her sad story, 
differ somewhat from the version he previously gave, but in- 
stead of detracting from the interest of the narrative they 
increase it, and make it more pathetic. Her course also 
shows how she had been taught by the Indians to keep her 


secret, and made to believe that if her friends among the 
white people came to know of her existence, they would come 
and tear her away from her true friends — those who had rear- 
ed, protected and defended her. But the weight of the secret 
of her life increased on her mind with advancing years, and 
when she felt that the end was near, she could not rest happily 
until she had revealed it. 



:)T WAS Saturday evening when the party returned to 
Peru from this memorable visit, and their feelings can 
be better imagined than described. They slept very 
little that night. ' Their thoughts constantly dwelt upon the 
strange scenes they had witnessed in the Indian domicile on 
the banks of the Mississinewa, and they could not refrain 
from talking about their sister and the life she had lived 
among the Indians. They longed to learn more particulars 
of her history, and the dawning of the morrow w^as anxiously 
awaited. Would she come, as she had promised ? was the 
question which agitated their minds. There was only one 
drawback to the circumstance of the meeting, and that was 
the fact that the day fixed upon was Sunday. And was it 
possible, they reasoned, that Frances had lost all idea of the 
sacredness of the day, and did not know when Sunday came? 
Here was an evidence to them that she had become an Indian 
in everything excepting her parentage, and that she was in 
fact a pagan. Nothing else could have been expected, and 
yet this fact seemed as surprising as it was distressing to her 
brothers and sister. 

At length the day arrived, and true to her promise, Fran- 
ces, accompanied by her son-in-law and two daughters, came 
riding in single file, on their Indian ponies, and presented 


themselves before the door of the new hotel* in Peru. It 
was a strange looking cavalcade. They were decked in gay 
barbaric apparel, as was the Indian custom when an impor- 
tant meeting was to take place, and attracted the attention of 
the residents of the town. It was true they were accustomed 
to see parties of Indians, as hundreds lived in this section of 
the State, but the movement on this occasion indicated that 
something unusual was going on, and the town was all astir. 

The brothers met them at the door with great cordiality, 
requested them to alight, and conducted them into the 
house and made arrangements for their comfort. But, ac- 
cording to the custom of the Miamis — and in fact nearly all 
Indians — before any intimacy could be established it was 
necessary to give and receive a formal pledge of friendship; 
therefore, when they were all assembled, the oldest daughter 
brought in a package rolled up in a clean white cloth, which 
she laid upon the table, and then, through the interpreter, 
solemnly presented it as a pledge of their confidence and 
friendship. Mrs. Towne was then told to receive it, which 
she did. On removing the cloth the hind quarter of a deer 
was found, which they had probably just hunted and killed 
for this purpose. Still they were not satisfied till the brothers 
and sister had as solemnly received it as a token of friendship 
and kindness on their part. This being done, and the present 
taken possession of by the civilized sister, they seemed at ease 
and from that moment gave their new friends their entire 
confidence. The ceremony was beautiful and impressive, 
and was recognized among those rude people as the seal of 

The best provisions were now made for the entertainment 

* According to the recollection of J. B. Fulwiler, Esq., this hotel stood 
on what is now the site of the elegant Bearss House. 


of Frances and the members of her family, and she soon be- 
came more at ease, and listened with interest to a history of 
the Slocnm family. They told her how her father was cruelly 
murdered by Indians less than two months after her capture, 
and the deep anxiety of their mother, while she lived, to learn 
the fate of her lost child; how her brothers had searched for 
her in vain, and how they had learned of her whereabouts 
thrpugh the kindness of Mr. Ewing, They assured her that 
Mrs. Towne was the sister who ran away to the fort with her 
little brother in her arms, and that Joseph Slocum, now be- 
fore her, was that very brother! This seemed to make a deep 
impression on her mind, as she listened carefully to the par- 
ticulars as they were communicated to her through the inter- 
preter. In due time preparations were made to take down in 
writing her Indian history. To this she seemed to have some 
aversion, until the reasons for it were fully explained by Mr. 
Miller, the interpreter, when she consented. 

This was a most extraordinary meeting, and excited un- 
usual interest in the community. Many of the residents of 
Peru — several of whom are yet living — knew Frances as the 
"old white woman," but none of them at that time knew 
that her history partook of such a romantic character. The 
people gathered in and around the hotel, gazing upon the 
strangers and listening with amazement and wonder. They 
crowded the doors and windows and so interrupted the free 
circulation of the air that the Indian party, so accustomed to 
the free atmosphere of the woods and the prairies, were almost 
suffocated. The food cooked by civilized methods was un- 
palatable to them and they did not relish it. The circum- 
stances and the surroundings had a depressing effect upon 
Frances, and she sought relief in accordance with the cus- 
toms of savage life. She slipped away quietly, and a few 


minutes afterwards was found with her blanket pulled over 
her head, lying on the stoop fast asleep ! 

After a rest the conference was resumed, when the follow- 
ing questions were asked and answers given : * 

" Were you ever tired of living with the Indians?" 

"No; I always had enough to live on, and have lived 
well. The Indians always used me kindly." 

"Did you know that you had white relations who were 
seeking you for so many years?" 

"No; no one told me, and I never heard of it. I never 
thought anything about my white relations, unless it was a 
little while after I was taken." 

" Do you remember when you were taken away?" 

" I can well remember the day when the Delaware Indians 
came suddenly to our house. I remember that they killed 
and scalped a man near the door, taking the scalp with them. 
They then pushed the boy through the door; he came to me 
and we both went and hid under the staircase. They went 
up stairs and rifled the house, though I cannot remember 
what they took, except some loaf sugar and some bundles. 
I remember that they took me and the boy on their backs 
through the bushes. I believe the rest of the family had 
fled, except my mother. 

"They carried us a long way, as it seemed to me, to a 
cave, where they had left their blankets and traveling things. 
It was over the mountain and a long way down on the other 
side. Here they stopped while it was yet light, and there we 
staid all night. I can remember nothing about that night, 
except that I was very tired, and lay down on the ground and 
cried till I was asleep. The next day we set out and traveled 
many days in the woods before we came to a village of In- 

* Dr. Peck's Wyoming, p. 2(>1, and Todd's Lost Sister, p. 132. 


dians. When we stopped at night the Indians would cut 
down a few boughs of hemlock on which to sleep, and then 
make up a great fire of logs at their feet, which lasted all 
night. When they cooked anything they stuck a stick in it 
and held it to the fire as long as they chose. They drank at 
the brooks and springs, and for me they made a little cup of 
white birch bark, out of which I drank. I can only remem- 
ber that they staid several days at this first village, but where 
it was I have no recollection. 

"After they had been here some days, very early one 
morning two of the same Indians took a horse and placed the 
boy and me upon it, and again set out on their journey. One 
went before on foot and the other behind, driving the horse. 
In this way we traveled a long way till we came to a village 
where these Indians belonged. I now found that one of them 
was a Delaware chief by the name of Tuck Horse. This was 
a great Delaware name, but I do not know its meaning. We 
were kept here some days, when they came and took away 
the boy* and I never saw him again, and do not know what 
became of him. 

" Early one morning this Tuck Horse came and took me, 
and dressed my hair in the Indian way, and then painted my 
face and skin. He then dressed me in beautiful wampum 
beads, and made me look, as I thought, very fine. I was 
miich pleased with the beautiful wampum. We then lived 
on a hill, and I remember he took me by the hand and led 
me down to the river side to a house where lived an old man 
and woman. They had once several children, but now they 
were all gone — either killed in battle, or having died very 
young. When the Indians thus lose all their children they 

* This was Kingsley. It has been shown that in course of time he re- 
turned from captivity, married, and finally died in Rhode Island. 


often adopt some new child as their own, and treat it in all 
respects like their own. This is the reason why they so often 
carry away the children of white people. I was brought to 
these old people to have them adopt me, if they would. They 
seemed unwilling at first, but after Tuck Horse had talked 
with them awhile, they agreed to it, and this was my home. 
They gave me the name of We-let-a-ivash^ which was the 
name of their youngest child whom they had latel}^ buried. 
It had now got to be the fall of the year (1779), for chestnuts 
had come. The Indians were very numerous here, and here 
we remained all the following winter. The Indians were in 
the service of the British, and were furnished by them with 
provisions. They seemed to be the gathered remnants of 
several nations of Indians. I remember that there was a fort* 
here. In the spring I went with the parents who had adopted 
me, to Sandusky, where we spent the next summer; but in 
the fall we returned again to the fort — the place where I was 
made an Indian child — and here we spent the second winter, 
[1780]. In the next spring we went down to a large river, 
which is Detroit River, where we stopped and built a great 
number of bark canoes. I might have said before, that there 
was war between the British and the Americans, and that the 
American army had driven the Indians around the fort where 
I was adopted. In their fights I remember the Indians used 
to take and bring home scalps, but I do not know how many. 
When our canoes were all done we went up Detroit River, 
where we remained about three years, I think peace had 
now been made between the British and Americans, and so 
we lived by hunting, fishing, and raising corn. The reason 
why we staid here so long was, that we heard that the Amer- 

* There can be little doubt that the place she describes was Fort Niagara 
on the river of the same name, which Avas the concentrating point at that 


icans had destroyed all our villages and corn fields. After 
these years my family and another Delaware family removed 
to Ke-ki-ong-a [now Fort Wayne]. I don't know where the 
other Indians went. This was now our home, and I suppose 
we lived here as many as twenty-six or thirty years. I was 
there long after I was full grown, and 1 was there at the time 
of Harmar's defeat. At the time this battle was fought the 
women and children were all made to run north. I cannot 
remember whether the Indians took any prisoners, or brought 
home any scalps at this time. After the battle they all scat- 
tered to their various homes, as was their custom, till gath- 
ered again for some particular object. I then returned again 
to Ke-ki-ong-a. The Indians who returned from this battle 
were Delawares, Pottawatamies, Shawnese and Miamis. 

"I was always treated well and kindly; and while I lived 
with them I was married to a Delaware. * He afterwards left 
me and the country, and went west of the Mississippi. The 
Delawares and Miamis were then all living together. I was 
afterwards married to a Miami, a chief, and a deaf man. His 
name was She-pan-can-ah. After being married to him I 
had four children — two boys and two girls. My boys both 
died while young. The girls are living and are here in this 
room at the present time. 

"I cannot recollect much about the Indian wars with the 
whites, which were so common and so bloody. I well re- 
member a battle and a defeat of the Americans at Fort Wash- 

* The statement by some writers that her first husband was Little Tur- 
tle is incorrect. This celebrated chief was born a few miles north-east of 
Fort Wayne in 1747. His mother was a Mohican woman. On the death 
of his father he became chief of the Miamis. He died at Fort Wayne July 
24, 1812, and was succeeded by Pe-che-wa, commonly called John B. Rich- 
ardville. His father was a Frenchman and his mother was a sister of Little 
Turtle. He was born about 1761, and died at Fort Wayne in 1841, and was 
buried by the Catholics of that place. A monument marks his grave. He 
is the famous chief of whom it is said " he never took or offered a bribe !" 


ington, which is now Cincinnati. I remember how Wayne, 
or ' Mad x\nthony,' drove the Indians away and bnilt the fort. 
The Indians then scattered all over the country, and lived 
upon game, which was very abundant. After this they en- 
camped all along on Eel River. After peace was made we all 
returned to Fort Wayne and received provisions from the 
Americans, and there I lived a long time. 

" I had removed with my family to the Mississinewa River 
some time before the battle of Tippecanoe. The Indians who 
fought in that battle were the Kickapoos, Pottawatamies and 
Shawnese. The Miamis were not there. I heard of the bat- 
tle on the Mississinewa, but my husband was a deaf man, and 
never went to the wars, and I did not know much about 
them. ' ' 

At the conclusion of this account of her capture, life and 
wanderings with the Indians for so many years, there was a 
pause for a few minutes. Every one present seemed deeply 
impressed with the story and the simple, artless manner in 
which it was related. In a short time the conversation was 
resumed : 

"We live where our father and mother used to liv^ on 
the banks of the beautiful Susquehanna, and we want you to 
return with us; we will give you of our property, and you 
shall be one of us and share all that we have. You shall have 
a good house and everything you desire. Oh, do go back 
with us!" 

" No, I cannot," was the sad but firm reply. " I have al- 
ways lived with the Indians; they have always used me very 
kindly; I am used to them. The Great Spirit has always 
allowed me to live with them, and I wish to live and die with 
them. Your wah-puh-mone [looking glass] may be longer 
than mine, but this is my home. I do not wish to live any 


better, or anywhere else, and I think the Great Spirit has 
permitted me to live so long because I have always lived with 
the Indians, I should have died sooner if I had left them. 
My husband and my boys are buried here, and I cannot leave 
them. On his dying day my husband charged me not to leave 
the Indians. I have a house and large lands, two daughters, 
a son-in-law, three grand-children, and everything to make 
me comfortable; why should I go and be like a fish out of 

Her reasons for not consenting to return were wise as well 
as strong, when viewed in their true light. She would have 
been an object of curiosity and therefore ill at ease among 
strangers. Too old to adapt herself to the usages of civilized 
life, she clearly realized that her new condition would not be 
a happy one, and she aptly clinched the argument by com- 
paring herself in that event to a "fish out of water" — 
meaning that she would soon die. In this connection how 
appropriate are the beautiful lines of Mrs. E. L. Schermer- 
horn, entitled the "White Rose of Miami": 

" Let me stay at my home, in the beautiful West, 
Where I pla3^ed when a child, — in my age let me rest; 
Where the bright prairies bloom and the wild waters play, 
In the home of my heart, dearest friends, let me .stay. 

" O, here let me stay, where my Chief, in the pride 
Of a brave warrior-youth, wandered forth by my side! 
Where he laid at my feet the young hunter's best prey. 
Where I roamed a wild huntress, — O friends, let me stay! 

" Let me stay where the prairies I've oft wandered through, 
While my mocca.sins brushed from the flowers the dew: — 
Where my warrior would pluck the wild blossoms and say, — 
His White Rose was the fairest, — O, here let me stay ! 

" O, here let me stay ! where bright plumes from the wing 
Of the bird that his arrow had pierced, he would bring ; 


Where, in parting for battle, he softly would sa}^ 

' 'Tis to shield thee I fight', — O, with him let me stay ! 

"I^et me sIslj, though the strength of mj' Chieftain is o'er, 
Though his warriors he leads to the battle no more ; 
He loves through the woods, a wild hunter to stray, 
His heart clings to home, — O, then, here let me stay ! 

"Let me stay where my children in childhood have played, 
Where through the green forest, they often have strayed : 
They never could bend to the white man's cold sway. 
For their hearts are of fire, — O, here let them sta)^ ! 

"You tell me of leaves of the vSpirit that speak ; 
But the Spirit I own, in the bright stars I seek ; 
In the prairie, in the forest, the water's wild play, 
I see Him, I hear Him, — O, then, let me stay ! 

When Frances had given her reasons for not leaving her 
home, Capt. Brouillette, the husband of her eldest daughter, 
spoke and said: 

"And I know all about it. I was born at Fort Harrison, 
about two miles from Terre Haute. When I was ten years 
old I went to Detroit. I was married to this woman (the 
eldest daughter of Frances) about thirteen years ago. The 
people about here, at Logansport and at Miamisport (now 
Peru) liave known me ever since the country was settled by 
the whites. They know me to be industrious, to manage 
well, and to maintain my family respectably. My mother-in- 
law's sons are dead, and I stand in their place to her. I mean 
to maintain her well as long as she lives, for the truth of which 
you may depend on the word of Captain Brouillette." 

"What Captain Brouillette says," quickly added the old 
lady, "is true. He has always treated me kindly, and I hope 
my connections will not feel any uneasiness about me. The 
Indians are my people. I do no work. I sit in the house with 
these my two daughters, who do the work, and I sit with 



"But won't you at least go and make a visit to your early 
home, and when you have seen us, return again to your chil- 
dren ? " asked one of the brothers. 

' ' I cannot, I cannot. I am an old tree. * I cannot move 
about. I was a sapling when they took me away. It is all 
gone past. I am afraid I should die and never come back. I 
am happy here. I shall die here and lie in that graveyard, 
and they will raise the pole at my grave with the white flag 
on it, and the Great Spirit will know where to find me. I 
should not be happy with my white relatives. I am glad 
enough to see them, but I cannot go, I cannot go. I have 

" When the whites take a squaw," said Brouillette, with 
much animation, as if delighted with the decision of the old 
lady, "they make her work like a slave. It was never so 
with this woman. If I had been a drunken, worthless fellow 
this woman could not have lived to this age. But I have 
always treated her well. The village is Deaf Man's Village, 
after her husband. I have done." 

The eldest- daughter, who was called Ke-ke-sc-qiia^ or "Cut 
Finger" — probably on account of her mother's defective fin- 
ger — assented to all that had been said, and added that "the 
deer cannot live out of the forest! " 

The youngest daughter, 0-:zah-zvah-shing-qiia^ which on 
being translated means "Yellow Leaf," confirmed all that 
was said, and thought that her mother could not go even on 
a visit, because, said she, "the fish dies quickly out of the 

This remarkable and pathetic interview now came to a 

* She was then in her Goth year, but on account of the lianlships and 
snfi'erings she had endured during her Indian bondage of sixty years, was 
greatly broken down, and looked much older than she really was. 


close. Frances, the Indian sister, was weary and sick, and 
anxious to return to her humble cabin on the banks of the 
Mississinewa, so congenial with her feelings, and so endeared 
to her by the tender associations which clung around it like 
the tendril which entwines the sturdy oak in the forest. 
There was her home by the side of the rippling river, and 
there were the graves of her chieftain husband and her sons 
on the beautiful grassy knoll which overlooked her habita- 
tion. And there was the magnificent spring at the foot of 
the hill where she had quenched her thirst for many moons, 
and which is there to-day in all its purity and beauty. There 
she could enjoy the wild mode of life which, by long habit, 
had become her natural element, and out of which she could 
not be contented and happy. 

She bade them a warm adieu, and mounting her pony, fol- 
lowed by her daughters and Captain Brouillette, galloped 
away and was soon lost in the distance. The brothers and 
sister, with saddened hearts, now prepared to depart for their 
homes. They had found their long lost sister Frances, but 
they were unable to win her back; they had found and left 
her an Indian, with almost every trace of Christian civiliza- 
tion erased from her soul and being, and yet there was wisdom 
in her words. "She looked like an Indian," remarks Dr. 
Peck, "talked like an Indian, lived like an Indian, seated 
herself like an Indian, ate like an Indian, lay down to sleep 
like an Indian, thought, felt and reasoned like an Indian; she 
had no longings for her original home, or the society of her 
kindred; she eschewed the trammels of civilized life, and 
could only breathe freely in the great unfenced out-doors 
which God gave to the Red Man!" And yet, after her long 
captivity, what other condition could have been expected 
than that in which she was found? Association, influence 


and daily teaching monld the mind, warp the judgment, and 
if bad, destroy moral sentiment and shape the destiny of the 
subject for evil. 

There was this, however, to comfort the Slocums: their 
sister was not degraded in her habits or her character, if she 
had been so long under Indian influence and teaching; there 
was a moral dignity in her manners entirely above ordinary 
savage life; her Anglo Saxon blood had not been tainted by 
savage touch, but bore itself gloriously amid the long series 
of trials through which it had passed. She was the widow 
of a deceased chief; she was rich; all that abundance and 
respectability could do for a woman in savage life was hers. 
Such was the former Frances Slocum, of Wyoming, now Ma- 
con-a-qua, the queen of the Miamis. This title, in the lan- 
guage of the tribe, means a female lion, and it was doubtless 
bestowed upon her on account of her strength and bravery. 

The problem of discovery and identity was settled beyond 
peradventure — the veil of mystery which hung over the his- 
tory and fate of a captive child for nearly sixty years, was 
now finally removed. 

In due time Mr. Slocum returned from this remarkable 
visit to his home at Wilkes-Barre, very much gratified at 
what he had seen and learned. The wonderful story he had 
to tell was listened to with the most intense interest by his 
family and friends. All his acquaintances came to see him 
for the purpose of learning the truth from his own lips, and 
they plied him with innumerable questions about his sister, 
which he was always ready to answer — in fact he never seemed 
to weary of talking on the subject, and took pleasure in re- 
lating the story to all who came to see him. 



[g)F the account of her wanderings while in captivity 
for more than half a century, as simply related by her- 
self through an interpreter, is intensely interesting, 
how much more thrilling would it be if we could have the 
story in detail ? But of course this can never be. 

After being carried away on that fatal November day in 
1778, Frances speaks of spending the first night in a cave, 
but its exact location has never been positively known, and 
never will be. When the marauders left the Slocum house 
with their prisoners they took an easterly course. The only 
cave known to exist in that direction to-day is found in 
the mountain near where a picnic ground called Mountain 
Park is located, between Ashley and Laurel Run, on the Cen- 
tral Railroad of New Jersey. But as the Indians would have 
been compelled to bear off to the right to reach it — and this 
would have taken them much out of their way — it is not 
likely this is the one in which they took refuge. When they 
started it is believed they took the shortest and most direct 
route up the river in order to reach Tioga as quickly as pos- 
sible. It is reasonable to conclude, therefore, that they crossed 
the Susquehanna a short distance east of the Slocum resi- 
dence, and if they concealed themselves in the rocks the first 


night it must have been in or about Campbell's Ledge. At 
this point the conditions are favorable. The escarpment of 
the mountain is rough and irregular, and shelving rocks 
abound, in which there are deep recesses, affording excellent 
hiding places. Here in this wild retreat they could have 
rested in comparative security for the first night; but as none 
of the early writers have ventured to locate the cave, what- 
ever theories may be advanced regarding its location must 
be accepted as mere speculation. 

In those perilous days all Indian raiding parties came down 
the Susquehanna River, and of course they returned by the 
same war path. The first important stopping place men- 
tioned by Frances, was probably what is now known as 
Wyalusing, Bradford County, Pa., twenty-one miles below 
Towanda. It was a favorite place with the aborigines on 
account of the game which abounded, and they had a village 
there. The great war path followed the eastern bank of the 
river, and parties were passing up and down at all times. 
Wyalusing'^^ being about a day's journey on this highway from 
Tioga, afforded to parties a convenient stopping place. Its 
gravelly plains made it an inviting camping ground, the 
abundance of game in the adjacent forests supplied them 
with venison, and its lower flats were well adapted to the 
cultivation of corn. These advantages made Wyalusing a 
place of note among the Indians, and their war parties gen- 
erally stopped here to rest. We are therefore safe in con- 
cluding that it was the first stopping place made by the party 
having Frances and the Kingsley boy in charge. 

After resting here a day or two she was placed on a horse, 
as she informs us, and carried to another village. This was 
undoubtedly Tioga Point, (now Athens, Pa.,) at the conflu- 

* See Craft's Hist, of Wyalusing, p. 40, 


ence of the Susquehanna and Chemung Rivers. This was 
the famous Diahoga of the Indians — the great point of con- 
centration — and its history dates back so far that it is lost in 
the misty past. 

Here the little captive was probably kept for some time; 
and it was here, perhaps, that she was first decked out in 
gaudy Indian costume, as a means of distracting her thoughts 
as soon as possible from her home and those she had left be- 
hind. Soon after this she was turned over to Tuck Horse 
and his wife, and adopted as his daughter to supply the place 
of one of similar size and age who had died. It is much re- 
gretted that there is nothing on record to show who this Indian 
was who bore such a peculiar name. We are informed that 
he was a Delaware, but it is not likely that he was an Indian 
of much distinction, or we would have heard more about him. 

After this we lose all trace of Frances until the early spring 
of 1780, when mention is made of her at Johnstown by Col- 
onels Fisher and Harper, as being a lot of prisoners 
and Tories to be forwarded to Canada for safety. That she 
was taken there is conclusive, for her cousin, Isaac Tripp, 
mentions meeting her at Fort Niagara* about this time, x^nd 
it is possible that she was not dressed in Indian attire until 

* Fort Niagara stood on the east side of the mouth of Niagara River, 
wliere it empties into Lake Ontario, at the extreme northwestern corner of 
the State of New York. In 1669, during the administration of Frontenac, 
a French officer named De Salle enclosed a small spot in palisades at the 
mouth of the river, and in 1725 the French erected a strong fortification 
there. It grew into a large fort, with bastians, ravelins, ditches, curtains, 
counterscarp, drawbridge, mess house, (the latter is still standing within 
the present fort,) covering eighteen acres. It was captured from the French 
by Sir AVilliam Johnston in 1759, and during the war of 1812 (19 Dec. 1813) 
a British force of 1,200 men crossed the river and took it by surprise. " Dur- 
ing the American Revolution," says Devaux, "it M^as the headquarters of 
all that was barbarous, unrelenting and cruel. There were congregated the 
leaders and chiefs of those bands of murderers and miscreants who carried 
death and destruction into the remote American settlements." 


after her arrival at Niagara, and that her adoption by Tuck 
Horse took place soon afterwards. She speaks of living on 
a hill not far from a river, and that the "Indians were fur- 
nished with ammunition and provisions by the British." 
We think it is safe to conclude, therefore, that the change of 
dress and adoption took place at Niagara, instead of at Tioga. 

After the conclusion of peace the Indians gradually moved 
westward; but many of them were not in a hurry to go, as 
they were loth to leave the country where they had lived all 
their lives, and where their ancestors had dwelt before them. 
This seems to have been the case with Tuck Horse and his 
family, who lingered about Niagara Falls, Buffalo Creek, on 
the Genessee and the head waters of the Allegheny, in the 
Seneca country. It was on the Allegheny that Colonel Proc- 
tor met her, soon after the interview with her brother Giles, 
in April, 1791, when he was making his way westward to 
treat with the Miamis and other tribes. 

After this Tuck Horse and family slowly moved along 
Lake Erie to Sandusky, whence, after remaining a short time, 
they returned to Niagara. Whether Proctor* saw her the 
first or last time she was going west we have no means of 
knowing, as her statement is too meagre to enable us to judge. 
Her foster parents led a nomadic life and were constantly on 
the move, because of the war with the Indians of the north- 
west, up to the time of their crushing defeat by Wayne. 

During the period of greatest disturbance she seems to 
have been living on the Detroit River, at Brownsville, Onta- 
rio. Here the women and children were collected in large 

* Another circumstance in connection witli the meeting of CUles and 
Col. Proctor at Painted Post, was overlooked in the proper place. Giles had 
been furnishing supplies — cattle perhaps— to the fort at Niagara, and was 
familiar with the roads. It is probable that he did not remain long with 


numbers for British protection, but they suffered greatl)^ for 
provisions and shelter. It was while living at Brownsville, 
according to the best evidence we have, that she married a 
young Delaware Indian. She states that he was named Little 
Turtle. He was not the great chief of that name, as has been 
shown in another place. Drake says there was another Little 
Turtle, a Miami, but he could not have been her husband. 
He is mentioned in the treaty of 1818. There is a tradition 
still extant among the Miamis that her Delaware husband 
did not treat her well, whereupon her foster parents drove 
him off. She says that he went west with his people, but she 
refused to accompany him, preferring to remain with the old 
man and woman who had adopted and raised her. The tra- 
dition regarding his departure is believed to be founded on 

About this time the Indians learned that her brothers were 
seeking her at Detroit, when the family with which she lived, 
accompanied by another family, came to Fort Wayne. This 
was evidently for the purpose of throwing her brothers off 
the track. As things were in an unsettled condition at Fort 
Wayne, they found it difficult to get provisions, and were 
forced to subsist on wild meat and whatever they could pick 
up. She says that her adopted father could speak English, 
and so could she, until he died, when she lost her mother 
tongue because she never heard it spoken. They lived on 
Eel River, three miles from Fort Wayne, and according to her 
story they were there at the time of Harmar's defeat. This 
was in 1790, one year, before Proctor met her on the Alle- 
gheny. She thinks they lived about Fort Wayne for thirty 
years. During this time, however, her family made frequent 
journeys into different sections of the country, and the period 
also included their residence at Detroit and Brownsville. 


When and where her foster parents died she does not say, but 
it must have been near Fort Wayne, and about the time of 
her marriage with She-pan-can-ah, afterwards known as the 
Deaf Man. 

The Miamis, of Indiana, have a romantic tradition as to 
how her last marriage came about. It is to the effect that 
somewhere in Central Ohio, while her parents were floating 
down a river in a canoe, and she was riding a horse on the 
shore, she discovered an Indian lying in the jjath and suffer- 
ing from a wound which he had probably received in some 
skirmish with the whites. She dismounted and dressed his 
wounds, and when her parents came up they took him in 
their canoe and carried him to the point of their destination. 
There they cared for him until his wound was healed. He 
remained with them for some time and kept them well sup- 
plied with game, as he was a good hunter. At last, thinking 
that he had done enough to " pay for his doctor bill," as the 
tradition goes, he proposed to leave them and pass on. They 
would not hear to his departure, but insisted on his remain- 
ing with them, proposing, as an inducement, that they would 
give him their daughter in marriage. He did so, and became 
the husband of Frances. That this union proved a conge- 
nial and happy one there is no reason to doubt. This mar- 
riage, as nearly as the time can be ascertained, occurred about 
1792 or '93, but it conflicts with some of the dates regarding 
their previous places of residence. And in what part of 
Ohio it took place is not known with any degree of certainty. 
Tradition says it was on a great prairie or plains. Possibly it 
might have been Picpia* on the Miami River, where there is 
an extensive plateau. There was a large settlement of Mi- 
ami Indians here under the chieftainship of 0-san-diah. He 

*Helm's Hist, of Wabash Co., Indiana, p. 117. 


was succeeded by his son, A-taw-a-taw, and he b)^ his son, 
Met-a-cin-yah. While under the last chief the band returned 
to Indiana, making the region now composing Wabash and 
Grant counties their headquarters. 

The cruel massacre of the Christian Indians at the Mora- 
vian town in Ohio, by white men, March 8, 1782, made a 
profound impression on the mind of Frances Slocum. As 
these converted Indians had spent some time at Sandusky 
and on the Detroit River, where they sought protection dur- 
ing the troublous times, she had become acquainted with 
them. The report of the butchery on their return to their 
home in Ohio affected her very much and caused her to dis- 
trust and hate the whites. That affair was one of the most 
cruel and bloody on record. Ninety-six persons, composed 
of men, women and children, were bound and shut up in two 
houses, to which the name of slaughter houses was given, 
where they were inhumanly slain by having their heads crush- 
ed by heavy wooden mallets. * It was fitly characterized by 
Loskiel as the most infamous act in the border war of that 
period. Frances, it is said, afterwards taught her children to 
beware of the teachings of white missionaries, reminding 
them of the perfidy of the whites at the Moravian town; that 
they would murder them. But it is gratifying to know that 
in the later years of her life her mind was disabused of these 
opinions, and she came to respect the teachings of Christian 

After leaving Piqua they evidently returned to Fort 
Wayne, for Frances informs us that it was from the latter 
place they emigrated to the Osage village on the Mississinewa, 
located about a mile above its mouth, and her husband be- 
came its war chief. 

* For a full account of this bloody affair see Allbach's Western Annals, 


She-pan-can-ah is described as a heavy set man, and was 
a great warrior until he lost his hearing. As a hunter, too, 
he is said to have been very successful, and did not cease the 
pursuit of game until he became too old to longer engage in 
the chase. It is also related of him that he would sometimes 
start out on his pony to look for game without removing the 
bell, and being unable to hear, he would ride through the 
forest and wonder why the game so suddenly disappeared. 
It was frightened away by the tinkling of the bell on his 

When he became too old to perform the duties of war chief, 
he transferred his authority to Francis Godfroy, and he served 
in that capacity until his death in 1840. No successor was 
appointed. She-pan-can-ah, after retiring from the chief- 
tainship, removed four miles further up the river and built a 
log house, and the settlement that grew up around it was 
known as "The Deaf Man's Village." In a painting by 
George Winter, and now owned by Mr. George Slocum Ben- 
nett, of Wilkes-Barre, it is represented as a typical Indiana 
log building of the period, covered with a clapboard roof. It 
was one story high, with a door in the centre, and a window 
on each side, with a chimney at the end. The spaces between 
the logs were "chinked " with blocks of wood held in place 
with mortar. It stood on the edge of the river, and nothing 
now remains to mark its site but a pile of stones. Here 
"The Deaf Man" died about 1831 or 1832, and was buried 
according to Indian custom in a little cemetery on the top of 
a hill, only a few hundred yards away. His age, according 
to Peter Bondy, was very great — probably one hundred years. 
But in this estimate he must be mistaken. Indians rarely 
lived to be so old. He might have reached eighty or ninety 


On marrying this Indian, Frances became a Miami, and 
was named Ma-con-a-qua. There is some difference of opin- 
ion regarding the meaning of this word. The Miamis of 
to-day say it means "female lion," probably suggestive of 
her great strength and activity. Others have asserted that it 
meant a young bear, because she cried so when first captured. 
This is probably incorrect. It might, however, have been 
the meaning of the first name given to her by her adopted 
father and mother, which she gives in her first statement. 

The Great Miami* tribe was the oldest and most powerful 
in the Northwest, and occupied the territory now embraced 
in the States of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois and Michigan. There 
were many other tribes known by other names within this 
territory, yet the great centre or leading tribe was the Miami; 
and in later years, for the purpose of repelling the invasions 
of European emigrants from the territory, all the leading 
tribes within its limits were united into one confederacy, 
known as the "Great Miami Confederacy," with headquar- 
ters at Ke-Ki-ong-a, where Fort Wayne now stands. Next 
to the Delawares they are entitled to be recognized as the 
leading branch of the Algonquin group. As a tribe they 
have been variously designated as the "Twa-twas, Twe-twees, 
Twigh twees, Omes, Omamees, Aumiamis," and finally the 
Miamis, The first treaty ever held with the Miamis was at 
Lancaster, Pa., on the 23d of July, 1748. Three of their 
noted chiefs were present from the Wabash country and met 
the English commissioners, when a firm treaty of alliance 
and friendship was then stipulated and agreed to between the 
parties. This treaty lasted for sixty-three years. At the end 
of General Harrison's campaign in 1813 the power of the 
Miami Confederacy was almost crushed. In 18 18 the remain- 

* See Dillon's Historical Notes, p. 294. 


ing chiefs asked for a treaty to define the boundaries of their 
territories. It was held at St. Mary's, in Ohio. Gen. Lewis 
Cass was one of the U. S. Commissioners. By this treaty a 
reservation* for the Miamis was made of lands on the Wa- 
bash, beginning at the mouth of the Salomie, and running 
down to the mouth of Eel River, t at L/Ogansport. A line on 
both sides of the rivers was run so as to include a territory of 
about 930,000 acres. The United States also agreed to build 
a mill at any point they might select. They chose a site on 
Mill Creek, four miles southwest of the city of Wabash, and 
there it was erected. 

By the treaty of October 23, 1826, held at Paradise Springs, 
known as the " Old Treaty Ground," the chiefs and warriors 
in council with Lewis Cass, James B. Ray and John Tipton, 
Commissioners on the part of the United States, ceded to the 
latter power "all their claim to lands in the State of Indiana 
north and west of the Wabash and Miami Rivers, and of the 
cession made by the said tribe to the United States, by the 
treaty concluded at St. Mary's October 6, 1818." By further 
provisions of the same treaty| the State of Indiana was author- 
ized to lay out a canal or road through any of the reserva- 
tions, and for the use of a canal, six chains in width along 
the same, was appropriated. In payment for this land they 
received $31,040.53 in goods; $31,040.53 in cash. The fol- 
lowing year, 1827, t^i^y received $61,259.47 in addition, and 
in 1828, $30,000. After that date they were to receive a per- 
manent annuity of $25,000. 

•■■• U. S. Statutes, Vol. VII,, p, 189, Ed. ISm. 

t Eel River formed a natural boundary between the Miamis and Potta- 
watamies. North of this stream the Pottawatamies held undisputed sway 
as late as 182G, and were in later years of their history superior to the Mi- 
amis in numbers, and were respected accordingly.— Helm's Hist. Wabash 
Co., Ind., p. lis. 

t Helm's Hist. Wabash Co., Ind., p. 24. 


Again, in 1834, the Government purchased of them 177,- 
000 acres, inchiding a strip seven miles wide off the west side 
of the reserve, in what is now Cass, Howard and Clinton 
counties, which was transferred to the State of Indiana to be 
used for the completion of the Wabash and Erie Canal from 
the mouth of the Tippecanoe River. A strip five miles wide 
along the Wabash had been previously' appropriated to the 
construction of the canal to the mouth of the Tippecanoe. 
The consideration paid for this was $335,680. 

Thus the great " Thirty Mile Reservation," as it was 
known in those days, kept gradually melting away. As they 
saw their possessions diminishing, dissatisfaction arose among 
a large portion of the tribe, because their hunting grounds 
were becoming rapidly reduced and white settlers were en- 
croaching upon them on all sides, and they proposed to sell 
the remnant of their reservation and move further west. One 
portion of the tribe wished to remain and engage in agricul- 
ture like the white people, but the majority prevailed, and 
this led, after an occupancy of twenty years, to the important 
treaty of 1838. As this treaty is the one which most deeply 
interested Frances Slocum and her descendants, it will be 
given in full in another chapter. 



N ACCOUNT of coming too closely in contact with 
the whites, the once powerful tribe of Miami In- 
dians soon commenced to rapidly decline. All the 
vices and destructive agencies of civilization had been intro- 
duced among them; the Indian trader had deceived and 
cheated them in the sale of goods at enormous prices, and 
whisky, the bane of mankind, was doing its work with irre- 
sistible force. To the older and wiser chiefs the outlook was 
discouraging. They clearly saw the defenceless condition of 
the tribe, and realizing that fate was against them, they sor- 
rowfully shook their heads and began preparations to once 
more turn their faces towards the setting sun. 

The proposition to hold a treaty for the purpose of dispos- 
ing of the balance of their reservation having been accepted, 
Abel C. Pepper was appointed a Commissioner on the part of 
the United States, to meet the chiefs and head men of the 
Miamis for that purpose. They met at the Forks of the 
Wabash November 6, 1838.* This point, so widely known as 
the famous "Treaty Ground" of the Miamis, is located at 
the junction of the Wabash and Little Rivers. A meeting 
here with the United States Commissioners was always a great 
occasion among the Indians, and they attended in large num- 
bers. The town of Huntington is situated a short distance 
from the historic spot. It is twenty-four miles southwest of 

*See Public Statutes at Large, Vol. VII., pp. 569—574. 


Fort Wayne, and forty-eight east by north of Logansport, on 
the line of the Wabash Railroad. Huntington is said to have 
been laid out by General John Tipton, who served so long as 
an Indian Agent, and afterwards as one of the first United 
States Senators from Indiana. 

That the reader may clearly comprehend the importance 
of this noted treaty, it is herewith printed in full. Its stipu- 
lations and schedule are as follows : 

"Art. I. The Miami tribe of Indians hereby cede to the 
United States all that tract of land lying south of the Wabash 
River and included within the following bounds, to wit: Com- 
mencing at a point on said river where the western boundary 
line of the Miami line of the Miami Reserve intersects the 
same, near the mouth of Pipe Creek; thence south two miles; 
thence west one mile; thence south along said boundary line 
three miles; thence east to the Mississinewa River; thence up 
said river, with the meanders thereof, to the eastern boundary 
line of the said Miami Reserve; thence north along said east- 
ern boundary line to the Wabash River; thence down the 
said last named river, with the meanders thereof, to the place 
of beginning. 

"The said Miami tribe of Indians do also hereby cede to 
the United States the three following reservations of land, 
made for the use of the Miami nation of Indians by the 2d 
article of a treaty made and concluded at St. Mary's, in the 
State of Ohio, on the 6th of October, 1818, to wit: 

"The reservation on the Wabash River, below the forks 

" The residue of the reservation opposite the mouth of the 
river Abouette. 

"The reservation at the mouth of a creek called Flat 
Rock, where the road to the White River crosses the same. 


"Also, one other reservation of land made for the use of 
said tribe at Seek's Village, on Eel River, by the 2d article of 
a treaty made and concluded on the 23d of October, 1826. 

"Art. 2. From the cession aforesaid, the Miami tribe re- 
serve for the band of Me-to-sin-in, the following tract of land 
to wit: Beginning on the eastern boundary line of the Big 
Reserve, where the Mississinewa River crosses the same ; 
thence down said river with the meanders thereof to the 
mouth of the creek called Forked Branch; thence north two 
miles; thence in a direct line to a point on the eastern bound- 
ary line two miles north of the place of beginning; thence 
south to the place of beginning, supposed to contain ten 
square miles. 

"Art. 3. In consideration of the cession aforesaid the 
United States agree to pay the Miami tribe of Indians $335,- 
680 — $60,000 of which to be paid immediately after the rati- 
fication of this treaty and the appropriation to carry its 
provisions into effect; and the residue of said sum after the 
payment of claims hereinafter stipulated to be paid, in ten 
yearly instalments of $12,568 per year. 

"Art. 4. It is further stipulated that the sum of $6,800 
be paid John B. Richardville; and the sum of $2,612 be paid 
Francis Godfroy; which said sums are their respective claims 
against said tribe prior to Oct. 23, 1834, excluded from inves- 
tigation by the late Commissioner of the United States, by 
reason of their being Indians of said tribe. 

"Art. 5. The said Miami tribe of Indians being anxious 
to pay all their just debts, at their request it is stipulated, that 
immediately after the ratification of this treaty, the United 
States shall appoint a commission or commissioners, who 
shall be authorized to investigate all claims against said tribe 
which have accrued since the 23d of October, 1834, without 


regard to distinction of blood in the claimants; and to pay 
such debts as, having accrued since the said period, shall be 
proved to his or their satisfaction to be legal and just. 

"Art. 6. It is further stipulated that the sum of $150,- 
000 out of the amount agreed to be paid said tribe in the 3d 
article of this treaty, shall be set apart for the payment of the 
claims under the provisions of the 4th and 5th articles of this 
treaty, as well as for the balance ascertained to be due from 
said tribe by the investigations under the provisions of the 
treaty of 1834; and should there be an unexpended balance 
in the hands of said commission or commissioners after the 
payment of said claims, the same shall be paid over to the 
said tribe at the payment of their next subsequent annuity; 
but should the said sum so set apart for the purpose aforesaid, 
be found insufficient to pay the same, then the ascertained 
balance due on said claims shall be paid in three equal instal- 
ments from the annuities of said tribe. 

" And the said Miami tribe of Indians, through this public 
instrument, proclaim to all concerned that no debt or debts 
that any Indian or Indians of said tribe may contract with 
any person or persons, shall operate as a lien on the annuity 
or annuities, nor on the land of the said tribe, for legal en- 
forcement; nor shall any person or persons other than the 
members of said Miami tribe, who may by sufferance live on 
the land of, or intermarry in, said tribe, have any right to the 
land or any interest in the annuities of said tribe, until such 
person or persons shall have been by general council adopted 
into their tribe. 

"Art. 7. And it is further stipulated, that the United 
States will cause the buildings and improvements on the land 
hereby ceded, to be appraised, and have buildings and im- 
provements of a corresponding value made at such place as 


the chiefs of said tribe may designate; and the Indians of 
said tribe are to remain in the peaceable occupation of their 
present improvements until the United States shall make the 
said corresponding improvements. 

"Art. 8. It is further stipulated that the United States 
patent to Beaver for five sections of land, and to Chapine for 
one section of land, reserved to them respectively in the 2d 
article of the treaty made A. D. 1826, is continued between 
the parties to the present treaty. 

"Art. 9. The United States agree to cause the boundary 
lines of the land of said tribe in the State of Indiana, to be 
surveyed and marked within the period of one year after the 
ratification of this treaty. 

"Art. 10. The United States stipulate to possess the 
Miami tribe of Indians of, and guaranty to them forever, a 
country west of the Mississippi River, to remove to and settle 
on, when the said tribe may be disposed to emigrate from their 
present country^ and that guaranty is hereby pledged; and the 
said country shall be sufficient in extent, and suited to their 
wants and condition, and be in a region contiguous to that in 
the occupation of the tribes which emigrated from the States 
of Ohio and Indiana. And when the said tribe shall have 
emigrated, the United States shall protect the said tribe and 
the people thereof, in their rights and possessions, against the 
injuries, encroachments and oppressions of any person or per- 
sons, tribe or tribes whatsoever. 

"Art. II. It is further stipulated, that the United States 
will defray the expenses of a deputation of six chiefs or head 
men, to explore the country to be assigned to said tribe west 
of the Mississippi River. Said deputation to be selected by 
said tribe in oreneral council. 


"Art. 12. The United States agree by patent to each of 
the Miami Indians named in the schedule hereunto annexed, 
the tracts of land therein respectively designated. 

"And the said tribe in general council request, that the 
patents for the grants in said schedule contained, shall be 
transmitted to the principal chief of said tribe, to be by him 
distributed to the respective grantees. 

"Art. 13. And it is further stipulated, that should this 
treaty not be ratified at the next session of the Congress of 
the United States, then it shall be null and void to all intents 
and purposes between the parties. 

"Art. 14. And whereas, John B. Richardville, the prin- 
cipal chief of said tribe, is very old and infirm, and not well 
able to endure the fatigue of a long journey, it is agreed that 
the United States will pay to him and his family the propor- 
tion of the annuity of said tribe which their number shall 
indicate to be due to them, at Fort Wayne, whenever the said 
tribe shall emigrate to the country to be assigned them west, 
as a future residence. 

" x\rt. 15. It is further stipulated that as long as the 
Congress of the United States shall in its discretion make an 
appropriation under the 6th article of the treaty made be- 
tween the United States and said tribe in the year 1826, for 
the support of the infirm and the education of the youth of 
said tribe, one-half of the amount so appropriated shall be 
paid to the chiefs, to be by them applied to the support of 
the poor and infirm of said tribe, in such manner as shall be 
most beneficial. 

" Art. 16. This treaty, after the same shall be ratified by 
the President and Senate of the United States, shall be bind- 
ing on the contracting parties. 


"In testimony whereof the said Abel C. Pepper, Commis- 
sioner as aforesaid, and the chiefs, head men and warriors of 
the Miami tribe of Indians, have hereunto set their hands at 
the forks of the Wabash the 6th of November, 1838. 

"(Signed), ABEL C. PEPPER, Commissioner. 
PAW-LAWN-ZO-AW, (Godfroy) 
O-ZAN-DE-AH, (Poplar Tree) [Leg) 
WA-PA-PIN-SHAW, (Black Raccoon) 

TO-PE-YAW, (Francis La Fountaine) 




"Signed in the presence of John T. Douglass, Sub-x\gent, 
Allen Hamilton, Secretary to Commissioner, Daniel D. 
Pratt, Assistant Secretary to Commissioner, J. B. Duret, 
H. Lasselle, William Hurlbert, Indian Agent." 


To the Indian names are subjoined marks, or totems, which 
are not given here, because they would have to be engraved 
to be properly represented. 

The schedule of grants referred to in the foregoing treaty, 
article I2th, is given for the purpose of showing the quantity 
of land awarded to the principal chiefs and their friends by 
the United States: 

" To John B. Richardville, principal chief: 

" Two sections of land, to include and command the prin- 
cipal falls of Pipe Creek. 

" Three sections of land, commencing at the mouth of the 
Salamonie River; thence running three miles down the Wa- 
bash River and one mile up the Salamonie River. 

" Two sections of land, commencing at the mouth of the 
Mississinewa River; thence down the Wabash River two 
miles and up the Mississinewa River one mile. 

" One and one-half section of land on the Wabash River 
at the mouth of Flat Rock (creek), to include his mills and 
the privileges thereof 

"One section of land on the Wabash River, opposite the 
town of Wabash. 

"All of which said tracts of land are to be surveyed as 
directed by the said grantee. 

" To Francis Godfrey, a chief, one section of land opposite 
the town of Peru and on the Wabash. 

"One section of land on little Pipe Creek, to include his 
mill and the privileges thereof 

" Four sections of land where he now lives. 

"All which said tracts of land are to be surveyed as di- 
rected by the said grantee. 

"To Po-qua Godfroy one section of land to run one mile 


on the Wabash River, and to include the improvements where 
he now lives. 

" To Catharine Godfroy, daughter of Francis Godfrey, and 
her children, one section of land to run one mile on the Wa- 
bash River, and to include the improvement where she now 
lives, , 

" To Kah-tah-mong-quah, son of Susan Richardville, one- 
half section of land on the Wabash River below and adjoining 
the three sections granted to John B. Richardville. 

"To Mong-go-sah, son of La Blonde, one-half section of 
land on the Wabash River below and adjoining the half-sec- 
tion granted to Kah-tah-mong-quah. 

"To Peter Gouin, one section of land on the Sixth Mile 
Reserve, commencing where the northern line of said reserve 
intersects the Wabash River; thence down said river one mile 
and back for quantity. 

"To Mais-shil-gouin-mi-zah, one section of land to include 
the Deer Lick, alias La Saline, on the creek that enters the 
Wabash River nearly opposite the town of Wabash. 

" To 0-ZAH-SHiN-ouAH, and the wife of Broiiillctte^ daugh- 
ters of the ''''Deaf Majt^^^ as tenants in com^non^ one section of 
land on the Mississineiva River ^ to include the improvements 
where they noiv live. 

"To O-san-di-ah, one section of land where he now lives 
on the Mississinewa River, to include his improvements. 

"To Wah-pi-pin-cha, one section of land on the Mississin- 
ewa River, directly opposite the section granted to O-san- 

"To Mais-zi-quah, one section of land on the Wabash 
River, commencing at the lower part of the improvement of 
'Old Sally,' thence up said river one mile and back for 


" To Tah-ko-nong, one section of land where he now lives 
on the Mississinewa River, 

"To Cha-pine, one section of land where he now lives on 
the Ten Mile Reserve. 

"To White Loon, one section of land at the crossing of 
Langlois's Creek, on the Ten Mile Reserve, to run np said 

"To Francis Godfroy, one section of land, to be located 
where he shall direct. 

"To Neh-wah-ling-quah, one section of land where he now 
lives on the Ten Mile Reserve. 

"To La Fountain, one section of laud south of the section 
where he now lives on and adjoining the same, on the Ten 
Mile Reserve. 

"To Seek, one section of land south of the section of land 
granted to Wa-pa-se-pah by the treaty of 1834, on the Ten 
Mile Reserve. 

"To Black Loon, one section of land on the Six Mile Re- 
serve, commencing at a line which will divide his field on 
the Wabash River, thence up the river one mile and back for 

" To Duck, one section of land on the Wabash River below 
and adjoining the section granted to Black Loon, and one 
mile down said river and back, for quantity. 

"To Me-cha-ne-qua, a chief, alias Gros-mis, one section of 
land where he now lives. 

" One section to include his field on the Salamonie River; 

"One and one-half section commencing at the Wabash 
River where the road crosses the same from John B. Richard- 
ville, Jr. 's; thence down the said river to the high bank on 
Mill Creek; thence back so as tp include a part of the prairie, 
to be surveyed as directed by said chief. 


" To Tow-wah-keo-shee, wife of old Pish-a-wa, one section 
of land on the Wabash River below and adjoining the half 
section granted to Mon-go-sah. 

"To Ko-was-see, a chief, one section of land now Seek's 
Reserve, to inclnde his orchard and improvements. 

"To Black Loon, one section of land on the Six Mile Re- 
serve, and on the Salamonie River, to inclnde his improve- 

"To the wife of Benjamin Ah-mac-kon-zee-qnah, one 
section of land where she now lives, near the prairie, and to 
inclnde her improvements, she being commonly known as 
Pichonx's sister. 

"To Pe-she-wah, one section of land above and adjoining 
the section and a half granted to John B. Richardville on 
Flat Rock (creek) and to rnn one mile on the Wabash River. 

"To White Raccoon, one section of land on the Ten Mile 
Reserve where he may wish to locate the same. 

"To La Blonde, the chief's danghter, one section of land 
on the Wabash River below and adjoining the section of land 
granted to Francis Godfroy, to be surveyed as she may direct. 

"To Ni-con-zah, one section of land on the Mississinewa 
River, a little above the section of land granted to the Deaf 
Man's daughters, and on the opposite side of the river, to 
include the pine or evergreen tree, and to be surveyed as he 
may direct. 

"To John B. Richardville, one section of land to include 
the Osage village on the Mississinewa River, as well as the 
burying ground of his family, to be surveyed as he may direct. 

"To Kee-ki-lash-e-we-ah, alias Godfroy, one-half section 
of land back of the section granted to the principal chief 
opposite the town of Wabash, to include the creek; 


" One-half section of land commencing at the lower corner 
of the section granted to Mais-zi-quah, thence half a mile 
down the Wabash River. 

" To Al-lo-lah, one section of land above and adjoining the 
section granted to Mais-she-gouin-mi-zah and on the same 

" To John B. Richard ville, Jr., one section of land on Pipe 
Creek above and adjoining the two sections of land granted to 
the principal chief, to be surveyed as he may direct. 

"To John B. Richard ville, one section of land wherever 
he may choose to have the same located. 

" It is understood that all the foregoing grants are to be 
located and surveyed so as to correspond with the public sur- 
veys as near as may be to include the points designated in 
each grant respectively." 

It will be noticed that Chief Richardville, whose Indian 
name was Pe-che-wa, was granted a great quantity of land; 
but it was cheap in those days, when compared with present 
prices. Godfroy came next as a recipient of the bounty of 
the United States. Richardville lived south of Fort Wayne, 
while Godfroy lived on the Wabash, about one mile above 
where the Mississinewa empties into it. The village chiefs 
were Chapine, at the village east of Roanoke; White Loon, 
in the same vicinity; Black Loon, east of Antioch; Big Ma- 
jenica, near Antioch; La Gros, near La Gro; Little Charley, 
north of Wabash; Al-lo-lah, south of Wabash; Cot-ti-cip- 
pin, on Treaty Creek; Joe Russiaville, Mississinewa, and 
Me-shin-go-me-sia, west of La Fontaine. There were other 
villages of minor importance, among them " The Deaf Man's 
Village," the home of the "white woman," or Frances Slo- 
cum. These villages extended from near the present city of 
Fort Wayne to La Fayette, and in a strip of territory extend- 


ing south of Eel River about thirty miles. North of Eel 
River the Pottawatamies had their home. At that time they 
were the larger of the two tribes, and numbered about 2,500 
warriors, the Miamis numbering about 1,100, which proba- 
bly represented a membership of from 5,000 to 6,000 souls. 
Helm, upon whose authority this statement is made, says the 
Miamis were much the more intelligent and civilized people, 
the Pottawatamies being filthy in their habits and low in their 

The attention of the reader is now particularly called to 
another important point in the life of Frances Slocum. His- 
torians in referring to her have always stated that she was 
granted a section of land by the government. This statement 
is incorrect. She never was given a foot of land. If the 
reader will refer to the paragraph in the schedule to the treaty 
of 1838, printed in italic letters, he will see that the land was 
granted to " 0-zaw-shing-qua," the youngest daughter of 
Frances Slocum, and her sister, Ke-ke-se-qua, the wife of 
Captain Brouillette, as "tenants in common," and the title 
for this land was vested in the youngest daughter, who after- 
wards disposed of it by will among her heirs, as will be shown 
at the proper time. Frances, however, resided upon this tract 
of land during the balance of her life, was the recognized 
head of the family, managed the business thereof, acquired a 
handsome Indian competence, and wjien she died was buried 
in its soil by the side of her husband and deceased children. 
These facts, it is hoped, will remove a popular historical error 
and keep future writers within the range of truth. 

The last treaty with the Miamis was held at the old treaty 
grounds Nov. 28, 1840. "Old Metosina," as he was called, 
having lived for four-score years at his village near the mouth 
of Josina Creek, requested that a reservation be made to him 


at that place, so that he could spend the remainder of his days 
in peace. His request was granted, as may be seen by refer- 
ring to the VII. volume U. S. Statutes, page 569, and four- 
teen sections of land were given him, which made him one 
of the most extensive Indian land owners of his time. He 
was a remarkable man and possessed of many good qualities. 
According to tradition he lost the chieftainship of his tribe 
on account of prolonged absence on a hunting expedition. 
His people fearing that he had been killed, and having no 
leader, went to work and made Pe-che-wa (John Baptiste Rich- 
ardville) their civil chief When Metosina returned he found 
another acting in his place. He accepted the situation with 
good grace, evidently pleased at being relieved from the cares 
of office, and spent the balance of his life in ease and con- 
tentment. His descendants still reside in that section of the 
country, but they have greatly degenerated. This story of 
his early life, showing how he came to be deposed, is a very 
pretty one, but we have no positive evidence of its truth. 

The Indians now being desirous of disposing of all their 
lands, so that they could emigrate, the government appointed 
Samuel Milroy and Allen Hamilton to meet them as commis- 
sioners. By this treaty the Miamis ceded to the United States 
all that tract of land on the south side of the Wabash River not 
heretofore ceded, and commonly known as the residue of the 
Big Reserve. It was also agreed that the time for removing the 
Indians to the West should be extended five years from that 
date, in order to give them time to select a location. In the 
meantime the old Chief Metosina having died, and his son 
Me-shin-go-me-sia inaugurated in his stead, it was deemed 
best by the commissioners to vest the title of the lands, re- 
served to the oldest chief at the last treaty, in his son, which 
was done. Me-shin-go-me-sia continued to occupy his reser- 


vation until his death, which occurred Dec. 23, 1879, ^^ the 
age of 98 years, since which time the lands have been parti- 
tioned among the Indians, giving to each a legal title to the 

It was also stipulated that the sura of $25,000 he paid to 
John B. Richardville, and the sum of $15,000 to the acting 
executor of Francis Godfroy, deceased — being the amount of 
their respective claims against the tribe — out of the money 
set apart for the payment of their debts. The fifth article 

And whereas, the late war chief — Francis Godfroy — bequeath- 
ed to his children a large estate, to remain unsold until the young- 
est of said children shall arrive at the age of twenty-one years, 
it is therefore stipulated that the United States shall pay to the 
family of said deceased chief their just proportion of the annuities 
of said tribe at Fort Wayne, from and after the time the tribe shall 
emigrate to the country assigned them west of the Mississippi. 

This closed the work of treaty making with the remnant 
of the once powerful Miami nation on the Wabash, and the 
only future action on the part of congress concerning them, 
will be found in the passage of a couple of joint resolutions 
about the time of the great hegira in 1846, which relate to 
Frances Slocum and her descendants, and a few other Indian 
families, who prayed to be allowed to remain in possession of 
their old homes. 




^WO YEARS had now passed since Joseph and Isaac 
Slocum, accompanied by their sister, Mrs. Towne, 
had made their memorable visit to the Wabash for 
the purpose of meeting and identifying their lost sister in her 
Indian dwelling. The recollections of that visit were still 
fresh in their minds^ and they felt it their duty to look after 
the welfare of their aged relative in her far western home. 
Mrs. Mary Towne, who had nearly reached the age of 72, was 
too old to make another journey to the Wabash. Isaac, who 
lived in northwestern Ohio, had recently lost his wife and was 
unable to visit his sister at this time. Joseph, however, 
yearned to make another journey to the reservation for the pur- 
pose of meeting her again. Accordingly, early in September, 
1839, he commenced preparations for the journey, and it was 
decided that his two daughters, Hannah and Harriet, should 
accompany him. The former was the oldest of his seven 
children, and the latter the youngest. Hannah was the wife 
of Mr. Ziba Bennett, of Wilkes-Barre, whom she had married 
in 1825. She was noted for her high Christian character, and 
took a deep interest in the welfare of her aunt. Harriet E., 
who was single, was about twenty years old at that time. She 
soon afterwards married Charles Drake, and on his death sev- 
eral years afterwards married Mr. Lewis, and now resides at 


Madison, New York. Mrs. Bennett, who was a methodical 
woman, kept a diary in which she noted the daily incidents of 
the journey. The original is now in the hands of her son, 
Mr. George Slocum Bennett, of Wilkes-Barre. It is an inter- 
esting record of that toilsome journey, and as it has never 
been printed in full, it is, with the permission of the owner, 
given herewith without abridgment, because it forms an im- 
portant part of this narrative. The start was made from 
Wilkes-Barre September loth, 1839, where the journal begins. 
It is as follows: 

Wilkes-Barre, September loth, 1839. 
Left home at 8 o'clock in the morning in a very poor four 
horse coach, loaded with passengers and baggage. Mr. Chas. 
Saylor, Mr. Courtright, Jonathan and Harriet Slocum, and 
Nancy Bird, were our company to Niagara Falls. We found 
the roads bad, many of the bridges down. Arrived at Tunk- 
hannock at 5 o'clock to dine; called to see Frances Oster- 
hout, who is in the last stage of consumption; she is since 
dead. We reached Montrose at 11 o'clock at night tired and 
weary; found father who had been waiting for some time. 
He came another road in his own conveyance. We stopped 
at Dr. Warner's, who keeps a temperance house. The stages 
do not run daily to Owego. We here left my brother, and 
father was our company. The proprietor sent us in a four 
horse coach to Binghamton to accommodate us. We had a 
colored man in the coach, which some of the company did not 
like; we let the poor fellow ride and he was very civil. We 
arrived at Binghamton at 11 o'clock to breakfast, which was 
good and very refreshing, as we had not eaten since 5 o'clock 
the day before. The roads were bad, our load heavy, which 
kept us so late. Called to see Mr. and Mrs. Stocking, who 
received me very cordially; walked around the town; found it 



much larger than I expected. It has two banks, six churches, 
and is very flourishing, and is built on both sides of the 
river. At 3 o'clock left for Owego and arrived at 8 in the 
evening. After supper at Mr. Mannings, we called at Mr. 
Wright's; they kindly invited us to stay all night, which we 
did with pleasure, as I dislike tavern beds when I can avoid 
them. In the morning called at Mr. Ransom's and Mr. Lan- 
ning's; walked around town, which is a very thriving village. 
At 2 o'clock we took our seats in what ought to have been a 
comfortable railroad car, but proved to be an old worn out 
stage body, loaded with passengers and baggage, almost at 
the risk of our lives. I was fearful we would be crushed. 
The horses were lame and broken down. I thought to my- 
self, is this proud, high-spirited New York ? Such railroads, 
horses and cars I never saw in Pennsylvania. 

The country from Owego to Ithaca is poor; in some parts 
low and marshy, in others broken and rough; I was disap- 
pointed. It may not be the best part where the r.ailroad 
passes. As you come in sight of the lake the prospect is very 
fine from a high hill, where the railroad terminates. The 
lake and country around presents a beautiful prospect as the 
sun's last rays tint the horizon, as it sets in the west. We 
here took stage and found entertainment at Mr. Hall's, who 
keeps the Clinton House; it was dusk. By the time we had 
taken our suppers it was dark, it being cloudy. We went out 
but were not able to see much, and returned not much wiser 
for our walk, as the town was not well lighted. At 6 o'clock 
in the morning we went on board the steamboat DeWitt 
Clinton. The name is worthy of a better boat; she tows many 
freight boats, therefore her progress is slow. Captain Van 
Order was pleasant and very accommodating. They were 
soon to have a new boat for passengers connected with a loco- 


motive on the railroad. Cayuga Lake is a very pretty sheet 
of water. We left the steamboat about 4 o'clock at Bridge- 
town; there is here a very long bridge; we went on board a 
small boat which took us to Montezuma; we here passed the 
outlet of Seneca Lake, entered the Great Western Canal and 
went on board a line boat for Rochester, as there was no 
packet there. The boat already was well supplied with pas- 
sengers before we went on board; six of us added to the crowd 
did not increase our comfort. Some parts of the country were 
beautiful as we passed along, while others were broken and 
uneven. The fare on the line boat was poor; the first meals 
I ate were very light, and much of the company would rank 
with the fare. We were glad when we arrived at Rochester; 
it was half-past 9 on Saturday evening. On Sabbath morn- 
ing we took a short walk to see Genessee Falls, which are 
grand, but much injured by the improvements. There are 
several mills and manufactories erected on the river, which 
prevent more than half the water, which once formed the 
river, in spending its fury in dashing over these stupendous 
rocks. So nature must give way to art. 

Rochester is a large flourishing place. There are several 
fine looking churches on both sides of the river. The Genes- 
see Conference was sitting; it afforded us an opportunity of 
both hearing and seeing the preachers. I recognized Mr. and 
Mrs. Shipman, who seemed glad. to see us. Bishop Hedding 
preached in the morning from this text: Ephesians iii., 8, and 
ordained fifteen deacons. Dr. Lucky preached an hour and a 
half in the afternoon, from Acts xvi., part of 17th verse, and 
the bishop ordained twenty elders. Mr. Mason was to preach 
in the evening. 

We thought it best to take passage in the packet for Lock- 
port; it was to leave at seven, but did not till ten. We were 


deprived of the pleasure of hearing him, and spent the even- 
ing in the packet. The Methodist church is very large, and 
neatly finished, but is much in debt. Our boat was crowded, 
but much more pleasant than the line boats, both as to com- 
pany and fare. There was an attempt in the night, by one 
of the passengers, to rob father; he lodged under him, and 
he put his hand in his pocket, which awakened father, and 
therefore he did not succeed. He was a poor, worthless fel- 
low. The canal lies on very high ground; it is a ridge formed 
by nature, but looks as though it might have been by art. 
The views of the locks and excavations are splendid, as you 
come in sight of Lockport; we landed our trunks in the lower 
town, rode up to the locks and walked up them. The Capt. 
invited us into a small building, where there were shown us 
some petrified stones, excavated out of the solid rock, in 
the form of some small animals or bugs, which were curious. 
There are several mills and manufactories here. 

After dining at Lockport I wrote a letter to Mr. Bennett. 
We left in the cars for Niagara at 5 o'clock, and arrived at 7 
in the evening amid the rush and roar of mighty waters. 
Before the cars stopped we were assailed with a host of ser- 
vants applying for passengers and baggage. The cars stop 
half way between the two hotels; it is difficult to make a 
choice; we went to the Eagle. In the morning after break- 
fast we crossed from the main land over to Goat Island, on a 
bridge not long since erected. I find that no painter's pencil, 
nor the pen of the most gifted, has been able to describe the 
grandeur of the scene that is presented before the visitor as 
one stands on the bridge which connects the American side 
with Goat Island. As far as the eye can reach the water 
comes tumbling and foaming over the rocks in such rapidity 
that before it reaches the falls it is wrought into a fury; it is 


in a complete foam before it dashes over the precipice, and is 
lost in the awfully sublime chasm below. We went to the 
tower, which is built of stone 150 feet high, to take a view of 
the British side, which is a very good one. The tower is 
built on the rocks some distance from the shore; we returned, 
went down Biddle staircase about 300 feet, went as near the 
falls as we could on either side; on account of the spray it is 
dangerous, and not a very pleasant walk. The rocks over- 
head are constantly dripping, which makes it rough and 
slippery, with the bed of the river just below. We ventured 
and took every possible view, clambering over rocks and down 
staircases. The morning was delightful and the rainbow over 
the falls was to be seen. I like the appearance of our falls 
the best, although there is not such a quantity of water pours 
over them; perhaps one cause is we could get nearer them 
than the other. 

After dinner Mr. Saylor and Mr. Courtright, with Nancy, 
left for Erie. We staid, crossed over the river a few rods be- 
low the falls, expecting to see the Queen's troops, as they 
were on parade, to visit the Table Rock and the Burning 
Spring, but were disappointed. Before we reached the Brit- 
ish shore it began to rain; we at first thought it was spray 
falling, but were soon convinced to the contrary; to our sor- 
row it rained incessantly. After landing on her Majesty's 
shores we were obliged to return wet enough, without grati- 
fying our curiosity ; we took shelter in some miserable gro- 
ceries. The Queen keeps a guard stationed at the landing. 
We had company — there were others that returned in the 
same predicament. There are a great many visitors con- 
stantly coming and going. 

We left the Eagle House at half past six on Wednesday 
morning in the railroad cars for Buffalo; reached there just in 


time to eat our breakfast and take passage on board the steam- 
boat Columbus, under the command of Capt. Dobbins. The 
wind was high when we left the harbor and continued to in- 
crease. After going 20 miles we were beaten back and an- 
chored on Point Albino, on the Canada shore, where we lay 
for 36 hours, and we experienced all the delights of sea- 
sickness; the boat w'as kept in constant motion by the beating 
of the waves. The first dinner the captain ate by himself, 
although there were many passengers aboard; I suffered very 
little in comparison with many; father and Harriet were both 
worse than I. As soon as we put out again we began to get 
better. Thursday about 12 o'clock at night we weighed an- 
chor and started; we touched at various ports along the lake; 
we lay three hours at Cleveland, having much freight on 
board for that place, but it being in the night we were de- 
prived of the privilege of seeing the town. Father went out 
to see the great and rapid improvements of the place. 

We landed at Sandusky City 9 o'clock on Saturday morn- 
ing. We here found Mr. Savior, who had preceded us, and 
came down to the boat to take passage to Maumee; he had 
concluded we had gone there without stopping at Sandusky. 
The cars were ready in a few minutes, and we took our pas- 
sage to Bellevue without any delay. At 12 o'clock we found 
ourselves at Uncle Isaac's;* he lives a mile from where the 
cars stop. We found him in deep affliction; he buried his wife 
last Tuesday, 17th September. She started with one of her 
sons, a young man grown, to go to the weavers; he had some 
business by the way, and before he left the wagon he pro- 
posed tying the horses. The mother said it was not worth 
while, she could hold them, and to hand her the lines, as 

* Isaac Slocum, -who witli his brother Joseph and sister Mrs. Towne, vis- 
ited Frances in 1837. 


they were old team horses, and always perfectly gentle. He 
had not left them five minutes before they started and ran 
a short distance and struck a tree. She was thrown out 
against the tree, striking her head, which instantly killed her. 
The horses were soon caught, but did not appear frightened. 
The call is a loud one to uncle and to us all. Be ye also 

We left uncle's at 2 o'clock on Sunday to take our passage 
in the cars for Sandusky City. It is ver}- much against my 
principles to travel on Sunday; we did not like to detain our 
company; we might have kept the Sabbath for we were com- 
pelled to stay at Sandusky until Tuesday morning, no boat 
coming into the harbor, and we might have spent our time 
much more pleasantly with our cousins than at a public 

The Star came into harbor on Tuesday morning, and at 
4 o'clock we left Sandusky. The harbor is very large; they 
take a circuitous route to get in; it is five miles where they 
pass the point until they reach the wharf. I spent most of 
Monday with my eyes stretched across this bay to welcome 
the first appearance of a boat, but it was in vain. It was a 
delightful day and there was nothing to interest us much at 
Sandusky; we were anxious to be off. The Exchange is a 
very good house. The Star was the most unpleasant boat we 
were on board; the accommodations were miserable; I could 
eat but little breakfast. 

It brought us safe to Mau.mee Bay on Tuesday afternoon ; 
we passed Manhattan and Toledo; the latter is four miles in 
length; ten miles up the river we found Maumee City; it is 
two miles long; the buildings scattered so as to sound large 
abroad. We walked a mile and a half to reach the stage 
house, part of the way on a board walk. There is much 


sickness at this place; the whole country is very unhealthy, 
fever and ague, congestive fevers or Maumee fevers, prevail. 
There were several very ill in the house where we lodged. 
We had not been at this place ver}- long before there were 
five more passengers arrived for Fort Wayne; they were mov- 
ing from Maine, which made ten passengers. 

In the morning it rained; our fellow travelers, Mr. Mac- 
Collough, wife and child, Mr. Spafiford and grandson, seemed 
to hesitate whether to start in the rain or not. We had con- 
cluded to prosecute our journey rain or shine; they took 
courage from us, and we put out after borrowing a couple of 
umbrellas, through rain and mud, over hill and dale, almost 
at the risk of our lives. We arrived in safety at Fort Defi- 
ance at 8 o'clock in the evening. It was too late to see the 

We started at 2 o'clock in the morning; stopped at New 
Rochester for breakfast, and miserable was the fare; we could 
scarcely make out a breakfast; the roads were bad and it was 
very dangerous traveling. We dined at a house on the line 
between Ohio and Indiana at half past three o'clock. From 
this place we had a good driver and team, but came very 
near an upset in the canal . We reached Fort Wayne between 
10 and II, and found very good entertainment. The Court 
was then sitting and the house was pretty full. In the morn- 
ing we walked round the town to see the fortifications, which 
still remain, and the block houses. Fort Wayne, on the Mau- 
mee, is pleasantly situated on rising ground; has a command- 
ing prospect, and bids fair to be a flourishing town. 

From this place to Logansport the canal is in operation; 
we took passage on board the packet at 10 o'clock for Peru. 
Capt. Mahon was very accommodating. We left Nancy 
Bird at her brother's; it was rainy and unpleasant. It is so 


unhealthy up the Maumee that at many places where settle- 
ments were commenced, and improvements made, they are 
entirely vacated. 

We arrived at Peru at 3 o'clock on Saturday morning, 
September 28th, 1839. We found comfortable lodgings at 
Mr. Burnett's, a temperance house; this place has only been 
settled four years; the country is rich but unhealthy. Mr. 
Miller,* the interpreter, called to see us, and is very kind; 
we passed the Sabbath here; there was a two days' meeting 
held, which we attended; it was a very good one. On Mon- 
day morning father procured a two horse wagon and driver to 
take us to the Deaf Man's village. 

We set out about 9 o'clock in company with Mr. Miller, 
Mr. Saylor and Mr. Fulwiler. Our charioteer likes a dram, 
and to be sure to have a supply, he carried a bottle in his 
pocket; if he had spent the money in getting his harness 
mended it would have been better for us. We met Capt. 
Brouillette within a short distance of their lodgef coming 
down to see us; he dismounted, shook hands with us very 
cordially, then mounted and rode on home like a streak 
through the woods. The whole family appeared glad to see 
us, and made us as welcome as they knew how. The Capt. 
speaks broken English. They are much more cleanly about 
their housekeeping and cookery than I expected to find them. 
We stayed with them till Tuesday noon. They provided 
horses and saddles for us, and in company with our aunt and 
her eldest daughter, were turned to Peru; they rode astride, 
all in Indian file; we passed through several Indian villages, 
by Godfrey's, who lives in quite a large house and very well 

■■'James T.Miller was a noted Indian interpreter, and was widely known. 
He was raised by the Ewings and was greatly esteemed ])y them. He lived 
.to a good age and only died a few years ago. 

t The residence of Frances Slocum and her daughters. 


furnished, with a store, &c. It was 3 o'clock when we 
reached Peru;t the Capt. came afterwards, but returned in 
the evening. My aunt and cousin stayed till the next after- 
noon, when the Capt. returned and went home with them. 
They parted very friendly, expecting to see us again. 

September 30th, 1839. This day I visited my aunt; found 
her living on the banks of the Mississinewa River, Indiana, 
in what is called a double hut. She is of small stature, not 
very much bent, had her hair clubbed behind in calico, tied 
with worsted ferret; her hair is somewhat gray; her eyes a 
bright chestnut, clear and sprightly for one of her age; her 
face is very much wrinkled and weatherbeaten. She has a 
scar on her left cheek received at an Indian dance; her skin 
is not as dark as you would expect from her age and constant 
exposure; her teeth are remarkably good. Her dress was a 
blue calico short gown, a white Mackinaw blanket, somewhat 
soiled by constant wear; a fold of blue broadcloth lapped 
around her, red cloth leggins and buckskin moccasins. The 
interior of her hut seemed well supplied with all the necessa- 
ries, if not with luxuries. They had six beds, principally 
composed of blankets and other goods folded together; one 
room contained the cooking utensils, the other the table and 
dishes; they spread a cloth on their table and gave us a very 
comfortable meal of fried venison, tea and short cake. Her 
oldest daughter is large and fleshy; I should think would 
weigh near 200 pounds; is smart, active and intelligent; is 
very observing. She is 34 years of age. The youngest is 
smaller, is quiet and very retiring; is 24 years of age. The 
mother's name is Ma-con-a-qua, a Young Bear. The eldest 
daughter's name, Kich-ke-ne-che-qua, or Cut Finger. The 

t Peru, the capital of Miami County, a pretty little city of about (),000 
inhabitants, is situated on the AVabash River. Its main street is noted for' 
the width and beauty of its stone sidewalks. 


youngest, O-saw-slie-quah, Yellow Leaf. The grandchil- 
dren's names, Kip-pe-no-quah, Corn Tassel; Wap-pa-no-se-a, 
Blue Corn; Kim-on-tak-quah, Young Panther. They have a 
looking glass and several splint bottom chairs. A great many 
trinkets hang about the house, beads and chains of silver and 
polished steel. Some of their dresses are richly embroidered 
with silver broaches; seven and eight rows of broaches as 
closely as they can be put together. They have many silver 
earrings. My aunt had seven pairs in her ears; her daughters 
perhaps a dozen apiece. They have saddles and bridles of 
the most costly kind; six men saddles and one side saddle. 
They have between fifty and sixty horses, one hundred hogs, 
.seventeen head of cattle, also geese and chickens. Their 
house is enclosed with a common worm fence, with some 
outhouses, principally built of logs. A never-failing spring 
of excellent water is near the door, with a house over it. 
They have a section of land (which is 640 acres) given to her 
two daughters. The treaty was ratified by government this 
spring. The land which is owned by government is now set- 
tling, which is not so pleasant for them, as intruders fre- 
quently help themselves to horses, hogs and cattle. 

Captain Brouillette, her son-in-law, is now with her, pro- 
viding for the family by killing game, as he is a noted hunter. 
He provides the wood, which is rather unusual for an Indian, 
and lays up corn and hay for the winter. The husband of 
the youngest daughter and he did not agree very well, as he 
was a lazy, indolent Indian; would not provide, but was read)^ 
to spend and eat what was provided. Brouillette left, was 
absent seven months, during which time the other died, in 
April. In June she married a second; he was killed by a 
Wea* in August. There is a dispute between the IMiamis 

* The Weas had a coiumou origin with the Miamis, were once a power- 


and Weas respecting their annnity. The Miamis disclaim all 
connection with the Weas; they had a dispute, and it ended 
in his death. Three years ago the eldest grand-daughter died ; 
supposed she was poisoned by Godfroys. His son wanted to 
marry her; her parents would not consent, as he was a drunk- 
en, worthless Indian, and as they always seek revenge, it 
ended in her death. Her parents mourn yet for her. At 
present they appear to live happy and comfortable. My 
aunt's husband has been dead six years. She says she was 
taken by an Indian chief whose name was Tuckhorse, adopted 
by him and his wife in the place of a daughter they had lost 
a short time before. If there was anything to eat she always 
had it. They lived one year at Niagara, where she recollects 
seeing a machine by which they raised goods from below the 
falls, and let them down; and also of Indians being afraid to 
cross above the falls on account of the rapidity of the cur- 
rent. She lived three years near Detroit. She says the old 
man made chairs, which he sold; he also played on the violin; 
he frequently went to the frontiers and played, for which they 
paid him. The old squaw made baskets and brooms, which 
they sold. The British made them presents of ammunition 
and food, which they had to go after under the cover of night. 
As to her religion, she is well apprised of a heaven and a 
hell, the necessity of living a quiet and peaceable life; if she 
is such she will be happy when she dies; this was taught her 
by her adopted parents. She says she is able to have a better 
house, but fears to do it on account of the jealousy of the 
Indians. She has money, some that has been saved since the 

fill tribe, and lived on the lower Wabash. In 1816 the AVeas and the Kit-k- 
apoos entered into a treaty of peace with the United States and sold their 
lands on the west side of the Wabash. Two years later they disposed of all 
their lands in Ohio, Indiana and Illinois, except a few special reservations. 
In 1820 they made a final cession of all their lands and agreed to leave the 
Waljasli, but many of them remained. 


treaty of St. Mary's eighteen years ago; she has lent $300 at 
a time. They moved from Detroit to Fort Wayne; after the 
victory they lived on Eel River, three miles from Fort Wayne, 
where they had planted corn and made preparations in case 
of a defeat. They lived there about twenty years. She mar- 
ried a Delaware Indian by the name of Little Turtle; when 
the Delawares removed west she refused to go with them, 
and chose to stay with her adopted mother; as the Miamis 
had treated her kindly she would not go. She then married 
a Miami, She-pan-can-ah. They came to this reserve about 
twenty-four years since. Her adopted father could talk good 
English; she could speak it while she lived with him; he was 
very careful to publish that she was dead, and the Indians 
generally promised to do the same. The chief's names are 
Richardville and Ma-jin-i-cah. 

Thursday night at 10 o'clock, Oct. 3, we left Peru on our 
return home; we reached Logansport* at 4 in the morning. 
The public house was not very neat; the females were all sick 
with the fever that prevails in that country. The location 
is pleasant and good; it has grown up rapidly; is now rather 
at a stand; the country is now suffering from drought; it is now 
eighteen months since they have had a heavy rain; we spent 

* At this point the Wabash and Eel Rivers unite. The town was founded 
in 1828, and in 1829 the county was organized and named Cass, in honor of 
(Ten. Lewis Cass, who was the principal commissioner in negotiating ti-eaties 
with the Miamis and Pottawatamies in 1826. It was made the county seat, 
and the seal represents Gen. Cass and Au-bee-naub-bee, a Pottawatamie 
chief, shaking hands. The chief some years afterwards was killed by his 
son in a drunken brawl, and his skull and the knife with which he was 
slain, are now in the possession of Maj. S. L. McFadin, of Logansport. The 
name, in honor of Capt. Logan, a Shawanee chief, who lost his life while 
attesting his fidelity to the whites in November, 1812, in Ohio, was decided 
by a shooting match, and "port" was added to indicate its commercial im- 
portance. It now (1890) contains about 15,000 inhabitants.— Helm's Hist. 
Cass Co., p. 33. 


Friday here; here we left Mr. Saylor, who has been very 
kind and pleasant on our journey. 

On Saturday morning we left in the stage for Indianapolis. 
Capt. Mahon accompanied us. The road is very straight, a 
great part of the way through a dense forest; trees of im- 
mense size were constantly greeting us; the country is low 
and marshy; for the want of stones and earth, they are under 
the necessity of making their roads and bridges of split tim- 
ber and poles, which makes traveling rough and unpleasant. 
The accommodations were tolerable for a new country. 

We reached Indianapolis at 8 o'clock in the evening; 
stopped at Washington Hall, kept by E. Browning; a very 
good house and well kept. On Sunday morning there was a 
fire in the upper part of the town; one building was con- 
sumed without injuring any others. We went to the Metho- 
dist Church; heard an excellent sermon from the preacher in 
charge. Father left for Danville. Harriet and I went to 
Sabbath School, which is a very good one ; in the afternoon 
the ordinances of Baptism and Sacrament were administered. 
On Monday morning we walked all round the town or city; 
it is the capital of Indiana. The public buildings are here; 
they look very well. 

We left Indianapolis at 3 o'clock in the morning for Cin- 
cinnati. The tavern at which we were to dine was so much 
of a grog shop we concluded to fast for the present. They 
here changed teams for one that had run away a short time 
before; there were plenty of loungers to see the fun; we, 
however, escaped unhurt. We found a comfortable place to 
dine at Greensburg. We lodged at Napoleon; the dust made 
the traveling very unpleasant; it rose sometimes in clouds so 
much so as to intercept our view. We struck the Ohio River 
at Lawrenceburg, quite a pleasant town, and reached Cincin- 


nati before dark; stopped at the Gait House. In the morn- 
ing we, Harriet and I, walked all over the city, which is very 
pleasant and clean, very similar to Philadelphia, more so than 
any one I was ever in. 

When we returned, father had engaged our passage up 
the Ohio on board the boat Royal; went on board not expect- 
ing the boat to start before afternoon or evening, but it started 
at II o'clock and we had not the opportunity of seeing any 
more of the city. We saw no more of Capt. Mahon and Mr. 
Bickford. We did not find any we knew at Cincinnati. The 
Ohio is very low; it is difficult for small boats to run. The 
weather very warm and dry; our boat was rather small and 
contracted for so many passengers; we found the company 
pleasant and agreeable. 

October 11, we passed Maysville in the night; we passed 
Portsmouth at 2 o'clock; left some passengers and took some 
more; we ran aground several times. We reached Guyan- 
dotte on Saturday afternoon and several passengers went on 
shore. We laid here all night fast on a bar, from which they 
could not extricate us. The Captain and most of the crew 
and passengers engaged in playing cards and drinking, which 
made me quite sick, not being accustomed to anything of the 
kind. On Sunday morning the Forrest passed, a still lighter 
boat; they stopped a mile above us and sent a flat boat to 
take our baggage. Part of the passengers went on board, 
the others walked after, having landed with a good deal of 
difficulty. The Captain extorted from us the exorbitant 
price of $15.00 apiece, after having paid $7.50 to Guyandotte. 
So goes the world. We still met with difficulties in getting 
frequently on sand bars. Sometimes all the passengers except 
the ladies were on shore. Sometimes on the deck boat for 
hours toofether. We were much fris^htened. The steamboat 


swung against the keelboat, which struck a log; with the 
great weight upon it it broke in; we were afraid some of the 
passengers were hurt, but it proved better than our fears, 
although some of the deck passengers were cooking under the 
deck; when it fell they put out the fire, and we were soon all 

When we came in sight of Wheeling the boat struck a 
rock and stove a hole in her bottom. The Captain turned 
her towards the shore, ordered her fires out, and she soon 
filled with water, but there was not much danger of drown- 
ing. We rode in a baggage cart up to the Virginia Hotel, 
where we found a house full. We had our lodging and break- 
fast; parted with our fellow^ passengers, who had become quite 
like old friends, being on board the boat a week together. 
We hired a hack, and in company with Mr. Evans, from Phil- 
adelphia, set out for Cadiz; we found the country very hilly 
and broken, yet rich and yielding abundant crops. We stop- 
ped to feed; I there missed my traveling bag; it was left at 
Wheeling; I wrote a note back and received it the next day. 
We reached Cadiz at 4 o'clock in the afternoon and found our 
friends all well and happy to see us; we stopped at Willis 
Bennett's. Cadiz is a flourishing town with a fine country 
around it; the town is on several hills, which does not make 
it so pleasant. I dislike the bituminous coal very much; it 
is so dirty; this country abounds in it; the hills are full. We 
talked of returning on Saturday; our friends would not con- 
sent, and we spent the Sabbath very pleasantly; we attended 
the Methodist Church. On Monday they sent us in a carriage 
to Steubenville. I was disappointed at not finding P. B. Pat- 
terson there; his health is poor and he has gone south; we 
passed him on the Ohio river. 

On Tuesday we took stage for Pittsburg; we were here 


again disappointed, as we expected to meet J. P. Dennis, 
They had arrived at Cincinnati after we left. Pittsbnrg is a 
rich manufacturing town, but not pleasant to live in on ac- 
count of the dense smoke that is constantly settling over it. 
We here spent a day, and met with Mr. and Mrs. Dunlap. 
We were in the glass factory and museum. The sight of the 
museum is not worth much; I was disappointed. 

October 23d, went on board the packet for Hollidaysburg; 
the canal passes through the Kiskiminetas salt works, which 
are on both sides of the river and canal; they were quite a 
curiosity to me. The hills, which in some places were almost 
perpendicular, afford coal; on the margin of the river they 
sink their shafts 70 or 90 feet deep and the coal is raised by 
steam. We reached the tunnel about 2 o'clock; it is a most 
stupendous piece of work; it is 907 feet through, and about 
one-half the distance it is arched. We reached Johnstown 
about 2 o'clock in the morning. We left in the cars at 5 
o'clock in the morning; we came to the first inclined plane,* 
then through the tunnel, which is similar to the other, 901 
feet through; the inclined planes are five up and five down; 
we breakfasted on the Allegheny mountain; we reached Hol- 
lidaysburg at 11 o'clock; went on board the Juniata packet, 
which started immediately for Harrisburg. In 38 miles there 
were 53 locks, which makes slow traveling. Capt. Vogle- 
song was very kind and accommodating; he ran a mile to 
hail the Susquehanna boat that we might not be detained 
over Sunday, for which we shall ever hold him in grateful 

Mr, Wickes, a gentleman from Ohio, was our company. 

* They traveled by the State Canal and crossed the Allegheny mountain 
on the Portage Railroad. By means of powerful stationary engines and 
cables the cars and boats were hauled up one plane and let down the other. 
The road was long since abandoned. 


The boat in which we came to Northumberland went up the 
West Branch ; we came up the North Branch ; stopped a few 
minutes at Danville; saw Mr. and Mrs. Shoales. We reached 
Wilkes-Barre about 8 o'clock on Monday morning, Oct. 28th, 
having been absent seven weeks, with the exception of one 
day; traveled about 2000 miles; had uninterrupted good 
health; no accident befell us; the weather was unusually 
pleasant and we found our friends all well at home, and had 
been so during our absence, for which I shall ever feel grate- 
ful to Him whom the winds and seas obey. It cost us 

Hannah Fell Bennett.* 

Concerning this memorable visit, Harriet, now Mrs. Lewis, 
of Madison, N. Y., added her recollections as follows : 

"On reaching the house we found our aunt seated in a 
chair, looking very much as represented in the water color 
portrait now in possession of Judge Bennett, with her two 
daughters standing by her." 

Her father, Mr. Joseph Slocum, after the accustomed sal- 
utations, told his sister that he had brought his oldest and 
youngest children to see her. The coldness and reserve of 
the former visit were now entirely gone, and Frances ex- 
pressed great joy upon the occasion of again seeing her 
brother, and particularly that he had brought his daughters 
so far to see her. The mother and daughters immediately 
commenced an animated conversation upon the subject of the 
family resemblances, which were observable. The old lady 
looking at her nieces earnestly, passed her hand down her 
cheeks, stopping the motion at the posterior point of her 
lower jaw. There is an unusual fullness and prominence at 

*Mrs. Hannah Fell Bennett, author of this journal, died at Wilkes-Barre, 
Pa., Feb. 5, 1855, in the 53d year of her age. 


that point of the Slocum face. Continuing, Mrs. Lewis said: 
"The preparations for dinner were soon commenced. They 
spread the table with a white cotton cloth, and wiped the 
dishes, as they took them from the cupboard, with a clean 
cloth. They prepared an excellent dinner of fried venison, 
potatoes, shortcake, and coffee. Their cups and saucers were 
small, and they put three or four tablespoonfuls of maple su- 
gar in a cup. They were told our way is not to use so much 
sugar. They seemed very anxious to please, and would often 
ask, 'is that right?' The eldest daughter waited on the 
table, while her mother sat at the table and ate with her white 
relations. After dinner they washed the dishes and replaced 
them upon the shelves, and then swept the floor. We were 
surprised at these evidences of civilization, and on asking our 
aunt why they did these things, she made answer that her 
mother used to do so, and she had always done it, and taught 
it to her daughters. It was, therefore, a uniform rule in her 
house to wipe the dust from the dishes when they were put 
upon the table, and when the meal was concluded to wash 
and return them to the cupboard, and then to sweep the 

"In the afternoon all left but Mr. Slocum, his daughters 
and Miller; the last remained till near night, when he re- 
turned. We strolled over the premises, and visited the bury- 
ing ground. They raise a pole over the grave fifteen or 
twenty feet high, with a white cloth at the top, which re- 
mains until destroyed by time. The premises showed great 
skill and industry for savage life, and no little order and 
attention to comfort in its arrangements. The house was a 
double hut. A neighboring squaw came in to help do the 
work, and the Indian daughters kept close to their white 
cousins, and talked with them incessantly. They supposed 


candles would be wanted, and to meet the emergency, the 
squaw melted some tallow, twisted wicking on a stick, and 
with a spoon poured the tallow down the wicks until quite a 
respectable candle was produced. 

" For supper they had the breast of a wild turkey stewed 
with onions, quite a delicate dish. When they came to re- 
tire, the pillow, all there was in the house, was assigned to 
Mr. Slocum by his Indian sister. They pay great respect to 
age. They had six beds, principally composed of blankets 
and other goods folded together. They were made of almost 
everything. We slept sweetly, and after taking a comfortable 
breakfast, commenced making preparations to return to Peru, 

"After breakfast a white man came to purchase a steer, 
and brought with him a colored man as an interpreter. He 
could not trade for the want of the money, as he might move 
away, and that would be the last of it. No business transac- 
tion takes place in the family without the consent of Frances. 
She usually makes the bargains herself. 

"The colored man served so well in the capacity of an 
interpreter that my father retained him for the purpose. My 
aunt was more free in her communications through him than 
she had been through Mr. Miller, and gave many circum- 
stances in her history and recollections which she had not 
previously given. 

"They seemed anxious to tell their white relations as 
much as possible about themselves, and to make as favorable 
an impression as possible. They had made in the spring 
eleven barrels of sugar." 

The eldest daughter took a fancy to Miss Harriet Slocum, 
dressed her in Indian costume, and said she looked like her 
daughter who had been poisoned. 

' ' Would I not make a nice squaw ?' ' asked Harriet. 


"Yes, beautiful squaw," replied her cousin, " will you be 
in the place of ni}^ daughter, and live with me?" 

On being told that her friends could not spare her, she was 
satisfied. She seemed sensible that she was asking too much ; 
but could the boon have been granted it would have been 
most grateful to her heart. 

The brothers an'd sister had prevailed on Frances to have 
her portrait painted by George Winter, an artist then living at 
Logansport. It was executed in due time. Subsequently 
another was painted, and both are now in the possession of 
friends at Wilkes-Barre. 

Before leaving Frances made an effort to prevail upon her 
brother Joseph to come and live with her; and not to be out- 
done by her brothers, who had made such liberal offers if she 
would come and live with them, she told Mr. Slocum that, 
if he would come to her village and live, she would give him 
half of her land, and this would have been no mean present. 
Her sincerity and earnestness in this proposition were affect- 
ing. No arrangement, however, could be made by which the 
brother and sister — so long separated, and to each other as 
dead, and now so mysteriously brought together and united 
in affection — could spend their remnants of life in the same 
neighborhood. They both bowed submissively to what was 
evidently the order of Providence, and tried to adjust their 
feelings to the separation. 

The time for parting finally came, and as Frances, her 
daughters and Capt. Brouillette shook their relatives warmly 
by the hand, they gave them the most ample assurances of 
their high gratification with the visit, and the affection they 
had manifested for them in coming so far to see them. Capt. 
Brouillette gave Mr. Slocum the most ample assurances that 
he would take good care of his mother-in-law while she lived, 
and so far as known he sacredly carried out his promise. 


This was the last time Mr. Joseph Slocum saw his sister, 
although he frequently heard from her down to the close of 
her life. His brother Isaac, however, who lived within a 
short distance of her home, took an active part in looking 
after her welfare, and visited her a number of times before 
she died. 

The section of country where Frances lived at this time 
was in Miami County, which was erected March i, 1834. It 
contains an area of 384 square miles, and as its soil is rich, 
and the land lies well, it enjoys the distinction of being one of 
the finest agricultural counties in Indiana. Peru, the seat of 
justice, was a rough, uninviting settlement at the time of the 
visit. At first it was known as Miamisport, and was started 
when the canal was being constructed. When the name was 
changed the place began to grow slowly, but it was a long 
time before it gave promise of amounting to much. It is 
now a prosperous little city, has a number of manufacturing 
industries, and contains many beautiful homes. There were 
no public roads at the time Judge Slocum and his daughters 
were there, excepting Indian paths, which in some places had 
been sufficiently widened to admit of the driving of wagons 
over them. To-day the country is noted for its fine roads 
and turnpikes, and the one running up the river and passing 
where the Indian villages stood, is especially fine, and affords 
a charming drive. 

The Slocum homestead is now in Wabash County, being 
situated just across the Miami County line. Wabash County 
was organized in 1852, and the city of Wabash, now the seat 
of justice, was founded in 1849. 



S IT was stipulated in the treaty of 1840 that the 
.„ , ,. Miamis should abandon their homes on the Wabash 
^ ^^^ in five years from the time of its ratification, there 
began to be much uneasiness manifested among many of the 
older members of the tribe as the time drew near for taking 
their departure. From a once powerful nation they had be- 
come weak and defenceless; they had disposed of their lands 
from time to time until they had nothing left; the records 
show that by their several treaties they had ceded an aggre- 
gate of 6,853,020 acres of land to the United States, and re- 
ceived in return in money and goods $1,261,707. They had 
been given in exchange 44,040 acres,* the aggregate value of 
which was $55,800, on which a few of their chiefs and head 
men lived. The remnant of the great tribe — the stragglers 
of a nation — must now prepare to move to their new reserve 
west of the Missouri in Kansas. They dreaded the day of 
departure. From time immemorial their people had dwelt 
in the valley of the Wabash. The graves of their ancestors 
were there, the endearing associations which cluster around 
once happy homes made it more difficult for them to sever 
the tie which had so long bound them to this section, and 
turn their faces westward. The hand of fate was against 

Hist, of the Ujiper Maumee Valley, Vol. 1, p. 42. 


them, and however cruel it might seem, they must go. The 
aged and infirm, unable to endure the fatigues of travel, must 
die on the route and be buried by the wayside. Such reflec- 
tions as these agitated their minds as the time for departure 
drew near, and kept them in a constant state of excitement. 
Many lingered about the graves of their fathers, mothers and 
children, and wept bitter tears over their hard lot. 

" And they painted on the grave-posts 
Of the graves 3^et unforgotten, 
Each his own ancestral totem, 
Each the symbol of his household — 
Figures of the bear and reindeer, 
Of the turtle, crane, and beaver." * 

Among those who mourned over the coming departure of 
the tribe was Frances Slocum. She could not endure the 
thought of making the journey, neither did she want her 
children and grandchildren torn from her and hurried beyond 
the great rivers. She was now over 72 years of age, and felt 
that the end was near. She had been a wanderer nearly all 
her life, and had endured great privations and sufferings in 
the wilderness and on the plains. She prayed that this last 
bitter cup might not be pressed to her lips. It was her earn- 
est desire to be permitted to remain in her happy home on the 
banks of the Mississinewa, and when she died — which must 
be soon — be buried by the side of her chieftain husband and 
children, on the beautiful knoll within sight of her humble 
cabin. She appealed to her brothers Isaac and Joseph for 
advice and assistance — all the others were dead. Her faith- 
ful sister Mary had just been laid in the tomb, and could no 
longer sympathize with her in her distress. Frances was the 
last one of the three sisters. Her surviving brothers were 
old men, but they were not unmindful of their unhappy sis- 
ter, and aided her all they could. 

* Longfellow's Hiawatha. 


It was finally decided to have her appeal to Congress and 
ask if she could not be exempted from the terms of the treaty, 
and, with her descendants, be allowed to remain on the res- 
ervation in Indiana which had been granted to her daughters. 
A petition was therefore drawn and signed by her children 
and grandchildren, and as it forms one of the most interesting 
features of this sad narrative, it is given herewith in full: 

' ' To the honorable the Senate and Hottse of Representatives of 
the United States in Congress assembled : 

"Your memorialist, Frances Slocum, a resident of Wabash county, 
in the State of Indiana, would to your honorable bod}' most 
respectfully represent : 

"That at the age of six years, about the close of the revolu- 
tionary war, she was taken captive in the State of Pennsylvania by 
the Indians, and has ever since lived among them, and is now, and 
for the last thirty years has been, recognized as a member of the 
Miami tribe. That, from the time she was taken captive as afore- 
said, she heard nothing of her white relatives and friends (the 
greater portion of whom reside at the place where she was taken, 
in the said State of Pennsylvania, and others in the State of Ohio, 
and the said State of Indiana) until about seven years since. That 
she has entirely lost her mother tongue, and can only enjoy the 
society of her adopted people, with whom she intermarried, and 
became the mother of a family, and with whose manners and cus- 
toms she has assimilated. That she is informed that the greater 
portion of the Miamies will be obliged to emigrate to the home 
assigned them west of the Mississippi in the course of one or two 
years, where their annuities will thereafter be paid them. That 
she is too old to endure the fatigue of removing; and that, under any 
circumstances, she would deplore the necessity of being placed 
beyond the reach of her white relatives, who visit her frequently, 
and have extended their kindness towards her since she was dis- 
covered by them. That her children are the owners of a section 
of land granted to them by the treaty between the United States 
and said tribe of Indians of the sixth of November, A. D. 1838, 
who now reside upon and cultivate the same, and with whom your 
memorialist now lives ; and that it is the wish and design of her 


children and their families, if it be the pleasure of the Govern- 
ment, to continue to reside upon and cultivate the same. 

"Your memorialist further shows, that a portion of the annuities 
of said tribe, in pursuance of the 14th article of said treatj^ is to 
be paid at Fort Wa3aie, after said tribe shall emigrate to the coun- 
try assigned them west of the Mississippi ; and that the payment 
of the annuities due your memorialist and her family at Fort 
Wayne or Peru, in said vState, would not increase the expense or 
add any inconvenience to the Government of the United States. 

"Your memorialist therefore prays that Congress may by law 
direct that the following persons, to wit : 

1. Ke-ke-na-kush-wa,* 12. No-ac-co-mo-qua, 

2. We-saw-she-no-qua, 13. Coch-e-no-qua, 

3. Te-quoc-yaw, 14. Po-con-du-maw, 

4. Ki-po-ki-na-mo-qua, 15. Tah-ki-qua, 

5. Wa-pu-noc-she-no-qua, 16. Ki-ki-o-qua, 

6. Ki-no-suck-qua, 17. Te-quoc-yaw% Jr., 

7. Ching-Shing-gwaw, 18. Soc-o-chu-qua, 

8. Pe-tu-loc-a-te-qua, 19. Peem-y-o-ty-maw, 

9. Sho-quang-gwaw, 20. So-eel-en-ji-sah, Jr., 

10. Waw-pop-e-tah, 21. Pun-ge-she-no-qua, 

1 1 . So-eel-en-ji-sah, 

children and grandchildren of your memorialist, as also j^our me- 
morialist, and such children as they may hereafter have, shall 
hereafter receive their annuities at Fort Wayne, or at Peru, Indi- 
ana, as to your honorable body may seem most expedient and 
proper. And, as in duty bound, your memorialist will ever 
pray, &c. 

January 17, 1845." 

"1, Eldest daughter of Frances Slocum; 2, her j^oungest daughter, 3, 
Cajit. Brouillette, husband of No. 1; 4, eldest daughter of Louis Godfroy ; 
5, his second daughter ; 6, wife of Gabriel Godfroy ; 7, one of the husbands 
of Frances' second daughter; 8, brother to No. 7, and afterwards the hus- 
band of his widow; 9, boy raised by Frances; 10, Peter Bondy ; 11, Samuel 
Bondy, nephew of Peter ; 12, cousin to Frances' daughter's children, and a 
woman; 13, daughter of No. 12; 14, daughter of No. 12; 15, daughter of 
No. 12; 16, daughter of No. 14; 17, son of No. 13; 18, sister to No. 17; 19, 
husband of No. 14; 20, son of No. 14 ; 21, daughter of No. 14. Very few of 
the foregoing signers are now living. The names are given as spelled in 
the petition. 

the lost sister. 127 

"House of Representatives, 

January 30, 1845. 

" Dear Sir : I have just received your note in relation to the 
Slocum resohition. I thought of the objection mentioned by Gen- 
eral Milroy, but the peculiarity of the application overcame with 
me that objection. I will not here relate what she has set forth 
in her petition, which you will see when you examine the case. 
The fact that the Government has given her children a reserve of a 
section of land implies a right in them to live on and enjoy it. 
Of this I entertain no doubt: they are by that act united with 
the soil, and this boon is giving them nothing more than other 
Miamies enjoy by the treat5^ I will send you Mr. Cole's letter. 
Mr. Cole is known to me, and is a gentleman of high standing at 

Yours, &c., 


Hon. a. S. White." t 

" Peru, January 16, 1845. 
"Dear Sir : I take the liberty of sending you the enclosed 
memorial, in the hope that you wall give the matter your attention. 
It is a small matter, it is true, but it is one in which the subject of 
it feels a deep interest. You may have heard something of this 
Frances Slocum, whose history is briefly noticed in her memorial, 
as it attracted some attention at the time she was discovered by 
her friends; and a little volume of her life has appeared in print. 
She was taken, as she states, I think, by the Shawnee Indians, at 
the age of about six years, somewhere near Wyoming. Her 
friends made fruitless search for her for a great number of years, 
and she likewise for many years made every endeavor to return to 
them, but without effect. In the progress of time, she was sold to 
and became the wife of one of the head men of the Miamies, 
known as the deaf man, with whom she removed to the Missis- 
sinewa, where she has continued to reside for the last forty years. 
Her relatives still reside at or near the place where she was cap- 
tured, and are among the most respectable families in that part of 

*Hon. Samuel C. Sample represented the district in Congress, where the 
memorialists resided, from 1843 to 1845. 

fHon. Albert S. White was a member of Congress from Indiana from 
1837 to 1839, and a U. S. Senator from 1839 to 1845. He filled several other 
high positions, and died in 1864. 


the country. They discovered her through the instrumentalitj^ of 
Colonel Ewing, to whom she related what little she recollected of 
her early history. They visit her quite frequently, and it is upon 
this account, more than any other, that she does not wish to remove 
beyond the great river, where she feels confident she would never 
again see them. She says she has lived a life of hardships, and is 
now quite old, and wishes to spend the remainder of her days 
among her children, on their lands here ; and she does not see why 
her great white father should not grant them the same privilege 
to remain here upon their lands, and receive their annuities here, 
as have been granted to some other families. 

" I am well acquainted with the old lady, and all of her con- 
nexions which she alludes to, and feel authorized to say that they 
are respectable, honest, and, for Indians, uncommonly industrious 
people, and, in every sense of the word, good orderly citizens. 

' ' For my own part, I can see no reason why any person should 
object to granting the prayer of her memorial. Certain families 
are required to be paid here by treaty, and it cannot increase the 
expense to the Government, or add any inconvenience, to pay her 
and her connexions at the same time and place. It is a matter of 
no consequence to the Government, but is everything to her, I 
have no doubt she would more willinglj^ meet death, than either 
to be obliged to remove west of the Mississippi, beyond the reach 
of her white relatives, or to be left here alone by her Indian rela- 
tives. You will more readily perceive, from the memorial and 
what I have already written, what is required to be done, than I 
can tell you. We wish the bill to provide for the payment of the 
annuities due her, and those persons named in the memorial, and 
any children they may have, at this place or at Fort Wayne, for- 
ever hereafter, or at least until they or any of them see proper to 
emigrate to their possessions west. It is desired, in order that 
no misunderstanding may occur, that the bill contain all of the 

' ' Please let me know what the prospect is, as soon as 3'our con- 
venience will permit after you receive this. 

Most truly yours, &c., 

Hon. S. C. SampIvE." 

*Mr. Cole was a well known member of the Miami County Bar, and 
probably drew the petition at the request of the brothers of Frances. 


On the 28th of January, 1845, Mr. Cave Johnson, (Ten- 
nessee) from the Committee on Indian Affairs, reported a joint 
resolution* for the benefit of Frances Slocum, her children 
and grandchildren, of the Miami tribe of Indians, and it was 
read a first and second time. 

Hon. Benjamin A. Bidlack, of Pennsylvania, who repre- 
sented the Wyoming district in Congress at that time, said 
he hoped " no motion or resolution would intervene to pre- 
vent the passage of this resolution. The memorialist was 
taken prisoner in the Valley of Wyoming at an early age, 
during the trials and difficulties to which the early settlers 
were subjected. 

" Her relatives are among the most worthy and merito- 
rious of my coustituents — they are my neighbors and friends; 
they searched after the captive with zealous and praiseworthy 
efforts and diligence, from the time of her capture until within 
a few years, and they have found her in the condition set forth 
in the memorial and report. The incidents set forth and 
connected with her eventful history would afford a beautiful 
theme for elucidation and remark. 

" But as debate is not now in order, I will not trespass on 
the indulgence and courtesy of the House. What I desire 
is not to make a speech, but to ask the unanimous consent 
of the members for the immediate passage of the resolution. 

" If the resolution is sent to the committee of the whole I 
fear it will never be reached, and this earnest request of the 
memorialist will never be reached and granted. 

" The proposition is intended to extend to her as the wid- 
ow of an Indian chief, the same privileges in relation to the 
payment of annuities due her and her family, and are pro- 

* Cong. Globe, Vol. XIV., Sec. Ses. 28th Cong., p. 208. 


vided for by treaty stipulation in regard to certain of the 
Miami chiefs. 

"Frances Slocum was taken from her white friends when 
a child. She is now desirous of dying among her red friends 
where she has lived for half a century, without being com- 
pelled to remove west of the Mississippi. Let her first and 
last request be granted. 

"The resolution then passed." 

This is the eloquent address which modern writers have 
been in the habit of attributing to Hon. John Quincy Adams. 
But the most thorough search of the records of Congress fail 
to show that the venerable and distinguished ex-President 
ever made a remark relating to the petition of Frances Slo- 
cum. He was old and feeble at that time, and three years 
after the introduction of the joint resolution he was stricken 
down and died in the House of Representatives. 

It is unaccountable how the credit of making the address 
came to be given to Mr. Adams, when it is readily seen that 
the proper person to speak to the joint resolution was the 
representative of the district in which Frances lived when 
she was captured, where her parents were buried, and where 
many of her most deeply interested relations still lived. The 
remarks of Mr. Bidlack, * who also came of a historic and dis- 
tinguished family, while not elaborate or diffusive, were elo- 
quent, impressive and appropriate, and aroused such a strong 
feeling of sympathy for the memorialist that no one inter- 
posed an objection, and the resolution passed unanimously. 

We next hear of the joint resolution in the Senate, when 

*Hon. Benjamin A. Bidlack was born at Wilkes-Barre ; was elected a 
representative to the 27th Congress as a Democrat, and was re-elected to the 
28th Congress, receiving 5,007 votes against 2,716 votes for Willits, Whig, 
serving from May 31, 1841 to March 3, 1845, when he was appointed Charge 
d' Affaires to Columbia, May 14, 1845, and died in office at Bogota, Feb. 29, 


Mr. White, Chairman of the Committee on Indian affairs, 
to whom it had been referred, made the following report un- 
der date of Feb. 21, 1845 • 

"That the joint resolution provides for the payment in Indiana 
of the annuities due this family, instead of requiring them to re- 
ceive payment with the nation in the emigrant territory west of 
the Mississippi River. The reasons assigned are that former 
treaties have made similar provisions in favor of other families of 
this nation ; that lands have been by treaty reserved to them in 
Indiana, to the personal enjoyment of which they have a right 
that cannot be embarrassed by requiring them to go west of the 
Mississippi for their annuities ; and, thirdly, that the petitioner is 
by birth a white woman, who more than forty years ago, in her 
infancy, was captured by the Indians, transferred to their country, 
lost her mother tongue, affiliated and intermarried with the Miam- 
ies, has by this marriage reared a large family of children, (who 
are named in the joint resolution,) but some seven years ago was 
for the first time discovered by her white relations, (who reside in 
Pennsylvania,) whom she has refused to accompany, because her 
whole nature has been changed by her strange destiny ; and life 
out of the woods, and away from her husband and children, would 
have no charms. Yet these white relatives do frequently visit her, 
and minister to her wants, which they could not do if she were 
removed six hundred miles to the west. 

"The committee cannot resist the force of these reasons, al- 
though in a conversation with General Milroy, the late intelligent 
agent of the Miamies, he expressed a fear that the adoption of the 
joint resolution might disincline other Miamies to remove to their 
new homes. 

"This case has such a thrilling interest, that the committee beg 
leave to append to their report the petition itself, with the letter of 
Mr. Cole that accompanied it. 

' ' They recommend that the resolution be adopted. ' ' 
On the 3d of March, 1845, the joint resolution passed in 
the following form : 

" A joint resolution'"' for the benefit of Frances Slocuni and her chil- 
dren and grandchildren of the Miami tribe of Indians. 
" Be it resolved, &c. That the portion or shares of the annuities 
* Stat, at Large, Vol. VI., p. 942. 


or other moneys, which are now or may hereafter become payable 
to the Miami tribe of Indians, shall be hereafter and forever pay- 
able to them and their descendants at Fort Wayne or Peru, or 
such other place in the State of Indiana as the Secretary of War 
shall direct, viz : [The name of Frances Slocum and all the others 
attached to her memorial of January 17, 1845, are then recited.] 

"And further resolved. That if any of the aforesaid Indians 
shall hereafter remove to the reservation of the Miamis west of the 
Mississippi, no portion or share of such annuities shall be paid to 
such person so removing. ' ' 

The prompt action of Congress in granting the prayer of 
Frances Slocum pleased her greatly, and removed a load of 
anxiety from her mind, which was weighing her down in her 
old age. She and her descendants were now free to remain at 
their Indiana homes, whilst those not exempted were com- 
pelled to depart. The great flight commenced in 1846, and 
the sad scenes and incidents of the removal are vividly re- 
called by many witnesses yet living in that part of Indiana. 
Under guides and a military escort the long Indian train 
moved across the country, over the plains of Illinois and Iowa 
to the new reservation provided for them in Kansas. As they 
left their cabins and favorite places of resort on the Wabash 
and Mississinewa, they cast long, lingering looks behind, and 
sorrowfully bade adieu to the scenes of their childhood for- 

Their deserted cabins stood for many years as relics of 
a race now in rapid decline, and finally tumbled into ruin. 
On departing they left hundreds of dogs behind, because they 
were unable to care for them, and they remained about the de- 
serted cabins until starvation drove them forth, and for a long 
time the white settlers were greatly pestered by the hordes of 
hungry curs which overran the country like ravenous wolves. 
In course of time the surviving Miamis drifted down to the 
Indian Territory, and there a remnant still lives. They have 



preserved the traditions of their ancestors, and occasionally 
those who are able, make pilgrimages to the Wabash to visit 
the graves of their fathers and relatives, and linger for a short 
time among their friends who were permitted to remain be- 
hind, when they return and try to forget the sad days of the 

Residents of Peru and Logansport, who occasionally visit 
the Indian Territory, say that they often meet descendants of 
the Miamis, and they always anxiously inquire after their 
friends on the Wabash. It is a marked trait of the Indian 
character for them to hanker after the scenes of their child- 
hood, and whenever they can do so, they return and visit 
those places. And in this respect they do not differ from 
their white brethren, for where is the man or woman, in the 
language of the poet, "with soul so dead," who does not 
love the land of his or her birth. 

One thing that caused such a bitter feeling among the 
Miamis who were compelled by the terms of the treaty to 
depart, was that certain favored members of the tribe were 
permitted to remain. The ignorant never could understand 
why this was so, and they looked upon them with feelings of 

The descendants of Frances Slocum and the other favored 
families probably do not number two hundred souls to-day; 
and through intermarriages and admixture with the whites 
they are rapidly disappearing. It is noticed, however, that 
where the French blood predominates there are evidences of 
more stamina and thrift in the race; but outside of this the 
tendency is downward. In a few years it will be impossible 
to find a Miami of pure blood on the Wabash . Among the 
Indians nothing seems to cause their degeneration quicker 
than contact with civilization, and from this cause they are 
rapidly disappearing. Extinction seems to be their destiny. 




^Y^J?FHEN FRANCES was fully convinced that she 


) I would be permitted to remain at her old home, 


^^•jIL. where she had lived so long, and where she 
wished to die, her mind became more tranquil. The sorrow- 
ful scenes incident to the departure of many of her Indian 
friends and acquaintances, however, had a depressing effect 
on her mind, and it was some time before she fully recovered 
her equanimity. She was now about seventy-three years of 
age, but on account of the hardships and exposures of nearly 
sixty years, she had the appearance of being over eighty. 
Her constitution, originally rugged and strong, was so badly 
shattered that when she began to decline, she lost her vitality 
rapidly and became quite feeble. 

During the thirty or more years she had lived on the Mis- 
sissinewa, she had, through good management, economy and 
frugality, accumulated much personal property, and was re- 
puted rich by those who knew her circumstances. Her son- 
in-law, Peter Bondy, says that at one time she owned 300 
Indian ponies, and had cattle, hogs and chickens in large 
numbers. The desire to accumulate was inherited from her 
parents. It was an Anglo Saxon trait which did not belong 
to the Indians, though she had through training and associa- 
tion acquired their manners and customs. 


After the departure of the Miamis^ there was a rush of 
speculators to acquire their lands, and new settlers soon be- 
gan to arrive and make improvements all around the Slocum 
reservation of 686 acres. And as the country rapidly filled 
up, extra vigilance was required to guard her stock and pre- 
vent encroachments on her premises. Many of her ponies 
were stolen from time to time, as horse thieves abounded in 
those days, and there were plenty of adventurers who did not 
consider it a crime to appropriate the property of the " white 
woman," whom they regarded as possessing such an abun- 
dance of ponies that she did not need all of them, and there- 
fore would not miss a few head. 

The presence of this class of neighbors was not calculated 
to promote the comfort and quiet of her latter days. Peck 
informs us that she was, in fact, still suspicious that she and 
her family might at last be robbed of the home which the 
government had just granted them by the terms of the treaty, 
as the patent for the land had not yet been issued. With 
these fears on her mind she communicated with her brothers 
and begged Joseph to come and protect her from the frauds 
which she apprehended were likely to be practiced upon her. 
Owing to his age he could not leave his home at Wilkes- 
Barre and take up his residence in a new country. She then 
sent for her brother Isaac, who resided at Bellevue, Ohio, to 
come to her. He promptly obeyed the summons, when she 
informed him that she wanted his son George to come and 
live with her. The arrangements were made, and he came 
at her request and looked after her affairs. 

With the departure of the majority of her associates a new 
order of things was established; and despairing of the return 
of the scenes of the past, she sighed for release from the asso- 
ciations and vices of civilization which she witnessed around 


her. Contrasting the freedom and the romance of savage 
life with the thirst for gain and the overreaching policy of a 
white frontier settlement, she thought she had truly fallen 
upon evil times, and was really weary of life. The prestige 
of her character and her name had departed with her tribe, 
and she was looked upon simply as a favored old Indian wo- 
man, whose claims to equal rights with her white neighbors 
were entitled to very little respect. 

In her younger days, says Mr. Bondy, Frances was ex- 
tremely active and strong. She could handle the lariat with 
great expertness, and it was no trouble for her to lasso a pony 
and bring him to bay. She was also fleet of foot, and to use 
his own words, "could run as swiftly as a man." Her phys- 
ical strength and powers of endurance were great, which were 
largely acquired by her long and active outdoor life. Her 
health was generally good, and it was only the weight of 
years that bore her down. 

Soon after the last visits of her eastern friends she had a 
new log house built on the hill a few hundred yards in rear 
of the old residence, which stood on the brink of the river. 
The former, according to a painting by George Winter, was 
a low log building with clapboard roof. The door was cut in 
the centre, and there was a window on each side of it. The 
half story contained a loft, which was used for the storage of 
goods, and probably for sleeping purposes. A short distance 
to the right, and near where the great spring of pure water 
bubbles from underneath the hill, stood another log building. 
These, with a few outhouses, and several cabins on the other 
side of the river, constituted the "Deaf Man's Village." 
On the opposite side of the river from the house is a high 
rocky bluff which shuts off the wind and storms. It is still 
covered with timber. At the time of the visits of her broth- 


ers the Indian path leading from Godfroy's trading post came 
up to the river just below the bluff, where there was a ford. 
It is not in use now, but it is easily pointed out. A fine 
modern road now runs along the hillside near where her last 
residence stood, and is much traveled. Nothing now remains 
to mark the site of the original log cabin but a small pile of 
stones, which belonged to the chimney. When the author 
visited the place last, in June, 1890, the ground was covered 
with a luxuriant growth of weeds. 

The new residence stood in a commanding position on 
the hill, and afforded a lovely view up and down the river. 
Frances had only moved into this house, and was fairly set- 
tled when she was taken with her last illness. In her declin- 
ing years she was blessed with the presence of both her 
daughters, their husbands, and her devoted nephew, Rev. 
George Remington Slocum, all of whom looked after her 
kindly and administered to her wants. Her last illness was 
not of long duration, but she declined rapidly and became 
very feeble. She realized that the end was near, was re- 
signed and happy, and welcomed the approach of death. 
She refused all medical aid, declaring that as her people were 
gone she wished to live no longer. The end finally came on 
the 9th of March, 1847, ^^^ ^^^^ spirit of the weary wanderer 
was at rest. In describing the last moments of her life, Peter 
Bondy informed the author that she died peacefully and 
calmly with her head resting on his arm, in the presence of 
her daughters and friends. Such was the closing scene in 
the life of this remarkable woman; the sweet murmur of the 
waves of the river gently blended with the music of the 
angelic choir which waited to bear her weary spirit to the 
Happy Land. 

" Now bloom the hedge and prairie flow'rs, 
And sunlight falls in golden show'rs, 


Where Ma-con- a-qua's sandl'd feet, 

In autumn chill and summer's heat, 
Trod lithsome through the forest glades. 

And while Miami's hordes reside 

Beyond the Mississippi's tide ; 
Her line, with nobler blood alli'd 
In onward tread of Time's decades, 

By mystic enterweaving strains 
Will know no more distinctive' s grades. 

But kinsmen all with kindred veins. 
As under Eden's blissful shades, 
The patriarch of Israel's flock 

Asenath's Nile-born sons caress' d; 
He grafted them on Judah's stock, 

And with adopting blessing bless'd. 
And He, exalted pow'r Supreme, 
Who mingled in one common stream ■ 
The blood of Jordan and the Nile, 
Shall in His providence erewhile 
With Saxon warp and woof entwine 
The threads of Ma-con-a-qua's line. 

' ' Down where the meadow lark sings. 
And the climbing jasmine clings ; 
Where the daisies grow, 
And hyacinths blow. 
And the air is perfume 
With the red clover's bloom. 
Hid by the prairie's soft mantle of green 
Peacefully sleeps the Miami queen. 
Above her are sweet symphonies — 
The bird song and hum of the bees. 
The sheen of the sun on the plain. 
And zephyr's enchanting refrain, 
A murmuring hymn in the trees. 

" lyong, long may the dew of the morn, 
(Bright pearls of the beautiful Giver), 

The green mound with spangles adorn 
Above the lost one by the river. 

And she, of the grief-burden 'd breast 



Whose blossom was blown from the stem, 

In the home of the blest, 

The glad haven of rest. 

At last shall regain 

And forever retain 
Her Frances, her darling, a beautiful gem."* 

The tenacity with which she clung to the spot where she 
died, and her obstinate refusal to leave it for the associations 
of civil society, is one of the prominent facts in her wonder- 
ful story, and shows how deeply the Indian character had 
been grounded in her mind. Her ancesters for a hundred 
years before her birth had been reared in the Quaker faith, 
and her father was taught the same doctrine and belief, but 
through long years of captivity with a savage tribe, all trace 
of the faith of her people was efFectully eradicated, and she 
acquired all the tastes, habits and desires of the Indian, and 
died reverencing the name of her adopted people. 

Her age, as nearly as can be ascertained, was 74 years. It 
might have been a few days less or a few days more. This 
cannot be accurately determined, because the day in March, 
1773, when she was born in Rhode Island, has been lost. 
And as she was carried away when about four years and seven 
months old, she had been a captive and dwelt with the sav- 
ges for a little more than sixty-nine years! But as she had 
been discovered ten years before her death, she had enjoyed 
the civilizing influences of Christianity for a short time. 
Through the ministrations of her nephew. Rev. George R. 
Slocum, who had lived near her for several months, much of 
the darkness of barbarism, which had clouded her mind so 
long, was dispelled, and she came to partly realize and expe- 
rience the beneficent influences of Christianity. 

She received a Christian burial, a prayer being made at 

* Caleb Earl Wright's Frances Sloeum. 


the house and her remains conducted to the grave by a Bap- 
tist clergyman and her nephew. The name of the clergyman 
has not been positively ascertained, but it is believed Rev. 
James Babcock was the man. According to Helm's History 
of Wabash County, he was the first minister of that denomi- 
nation to begin preaching in that section of the country. A 
Baptist Society was organized several years before 1859, when 
the first church* was built. Mr. Slocum may have been in- 
strumental in founding the society, as he came there in 1846. 

The remains of Frances Slocum were laid at rest in the 
Indian burial ground a few yards from the house where she 
died, by the side of her husband and two infant boys. At 
the request of her brother Isaac, her funeral sermon was 
preached in the Baptist Church at Bellevue, Ohio, by Elder 
Eaton, from the text found in Psalms Ixix., 8: "I am be- 
come a stranger unto my brethren, and an alien unto my 
mother's children." No more appropriate words could have 
been selected for the occasion, and the lesson was as beauti- 
ful and impressive as the sermon was able and pathetic. 

The cemetery where her ashes repose is located on the 
crowning summit of a beautiful knoll, at the edge of a clump 
of heavy timber, and commands a fine view. It contains half 
an acre of ground, and there the ashes of a large number of 
Indians now mingle with the soil. A substantial fence en- 
closes the sacred premises, and by the terms of the will of 
O-zah-wah-shing-qua, the youngest daughter, it must be kept 
forever as a burial place for the descendants of the family. 
There are a number of marble headstones erected to mark 
the burial places of those who have since died, but the ma- 

* Among the first members of the Antioch Missionary Church were : 
George R. Slocum, Capt. Brouillette, Peter Bondy and wife and William 
Godfroy. Peter Bondy appears as a trustee.— Helm's Hist. Wabash County, 
pp. 476-7. 


jority of the graves are unmarked by stick or stone. When 
the writer first visited the place in the autumn of 1889, a 
grandson (Judson C. Bondy) pointed out the spot where the 
remains of Frances were laid. After searching for a few 
minutes, and carefully noting the headstone of his mother's 
grave, he selected a depressed spot, and brushing away the 
tangled mass of grass and brambles, sorrowfully said: " Here 
is grandmother's grave!" Although she had been dead for 
more than forty years, and her history conceded to stand 
alone in strangeness of circumstance and detail, not a memo- 
rial stone, however plain or humble, has been reared to mark 
her quiet resting place! * 

Frances Slocum was a remarkable woman. The strongly 
marked features of her face, as shown in her portraits, indi- 
cate firmness. Her intellectual faculties were well developed, 
and had it been her fortune to have been permitted to remain 
among her kindred and receive an education, she would have 
risen above mediocrity and made her mark in civilized society. 
That she possessed a logical mind is shown by the reasons she 
advanced why she could not return to civilized life, when her 
brothers insisted on her doing so. She was noted for firmness 
and decision of character, and she always commanded the re- 
spect and admiration of the rude people among whom her lot 
was cast. They not only deferred to her in matters of busi- 
ness, but honored her as a superior person. According to her 
testimony they always treated her well, which had so won 
her love and esteem that she was contented and happy in her 
Indian life, and had no desire to leave them. Her fine growth 
of chestnut brown hair was a novelty among the Indians, and 

* It was recently decided by the descendants, children and grandchil- 
dren, of Hon. Joseph Slocum, brother of Frances, to erect a suitable monu- 
ment over her grave. This will be done in the spring of 18!)l,and the long 
delayed tribute to her memory will be an accomplished fact. 


they admired it almost to the point of worship. Peter Bondy 
says there was a peculiar spot on the side of her head in 
which the hair was redder than at any other part, and it was 
the first to turn gray. She was affectionate and took a deep 
interest in her children and grandchildren, and prayed that 
they might never be called on to endure the trials and hard- 
ships she had undergone. Her long captivity caused her to 
lose her mother tongue, and she died without fully recover- 
ing the language of her childhood. 

The eldest daughter, Ke-ke-se-qua,* wife of Capt. Brouil- 
lette, who was ill at the time of the death of her mother, was 
so prostrated by the sad occurrence, that she died March 13, 
1847, f'^'^^ <^^^ys later, and joined her in the Spirit Land. 
She was forty-seven years old, having been born about 1800. 
These two deaths occurring so closely together, caused much 
sorrow among the relatives of the deceased, and they mourned 
deeply over their loss. 

Ke-ke-se-qua, or Cut Finger, was married twice, but the 
name of her first husband is unknown. He was a Miami In- 
dian, and probably died soon after marriage. He left one 
daughter, who lived to the age of seventeen or eighteen years, 
when, it is alleged, she was poisoned by the friends of a 
lover, because her mother would not consent to her marrying 
him, on account of his being a lazy, worthless fellow. And 
it was for this daughter that the mother and grandmother 
were mourning when their eastern friends first visited them. 
How long she remained a widow is not known, but it must 
have been for several years. 

* There is a great dissimilarity among writers in sjielling Indian names, 
the ditficnlty being in expressing the proper sound. By some her name is 
spelled Ke-ke-na-kush-wa, by others kick-e-se-qua. It can readily be seen 
how easily it is to express the same meaning by the word Ke-ke-se-qua, and 
the latter method has been followed in this work. 




She next married Captain Jean Baptiste Brouillette, a half- 
breed Frenchman. This union, which was without issue, 
seems to have been a happy one. The Captain was attentive 
and devoted to his wife, and looked carefully after the wants 
of his mother-in-law, for whom he appears to have had great 
respect. When Ke-ke-se-qua died she had been married to 
Brouillette about thirteen years. Little is known of her his- 
tory and character. She was either born at Fort Wayne, or 
in the Osage village, of which her father,' the Deaf Man, was 
war chief That she was warmly attached to her mother there 
seems to be no doubt, for we find her in her company all the 
time. She was present at the interviews which took place 
with her eastern friends, and was foremost in interposing ob- 
jections to her mother's going to Wilkes-Barre to visit her 
brother. It is believed that she inherited much of the ability 
and sagacity of her mother, and died a thorough Indian. 
Born and raised among the Miamis, and taught their lan- 
guage, manners and customs, she could not have been any- 
thing else. She did not live long enough to become suffi- 
ciently acquainted with her white relatives to entirely change 
her views regarding the white people, or to embrace their 
religious beliefs and habits of life. She only spoke the Mi- 
ami language, and had little opportunity of learning much 
about the country and the customs of the people, as she ap- 
pears to have been so closely attached to her home on the 
Mississinewa that she traveled little. She was buried by the 
side of her chieftain father and beloved mother, and like them 
her grave is unmarked by stone or tablet. 

Soon after the death of Frances Slocum and her daughter, 
a number of prominent members of the Miami tribe, who still 
lingered in the valley of the Wabash, petitioned Congress for 
authority to remain on the lands which had been granted them 


at the treaty of 1838. Their petition was favorably enter- 
tained, for on the ist of May, 1850, Congress passed the fol- 
lowing resolntion: * 

"A resolution to extend the provisions of a joint resolution for the 
benefit of Frances Slocum and her children and grandchildren 
of the Miami tribe of Indians, approved March 3, 1845. 

' ' Resolved, by the Senate and House of Representatives of the 
United States of America in Congress assembled, That the pro- 
visions of the above mentioned joint resolution be and the same 
are hereby extended to the following persons and their families 
and descendants, to wit: 

Me-zo-quah, Ko-as-see, 

Pe-che-wah, (John B. Rich- Ah-mac-con-ze-quah, 

O-san-diah, [ardville.) Wah-kit-e-mung-quah, 

Al-lo-lah, (Black Raccoon,) Young Revoir, alias Shap-pe- 

Waw-pe-mun-waw, ( Joe Peter lyanglois, [ne-maw. 

Seek, [Richardville,) Elizabeth lyanglois. 

who are residents of the State of Indiana." 

After the death of Frances and her daughter, Cajotain 
Brouillette continued to reside at the old homestead, as he 
inherited a share in the estate of his wife, who was a tenant 
in common with her sister, in whom the title for the land 
was vested. He was active, industrious and kind-hearted, 
and so far as known, was free from bad habits in the latter 
part of his life. He still gave some attention to agriculture, 
and tilled his fields of corn in an advanced method to- that 
usually followed by Indians. Laying some claim to the prac- 
tice of the healing art, he did much towards alleviating the 
distress of the sick, and made himself useful in the settle- 

The history of the nephew, Rev. George Remington Slo- 
cum, who came to live with his aunt, at her request, and did 
such good missionary work among her people, is best told in 

* Stat, at Large, Vol. IX., p. 806. 


an obituary notice which appeared in The Witness^ a Baptist 
paper published at Indianapolis, under date of February 21, 
1861. It says: 

''George was the youngest son of Isaac Slocum, and was 
only two years old when his father settled at Bellevue, Ohio. 
While the father strove with many difficulties common to a 
new country, the mother, who was a Christian woman be- 
longing to the Baptist denomination, sought the spiritual 
interests of her children. Her Godly conversation and spir- 
itual hymns were not forgotten. George always remembered 
his mother's teaching. Her voice seemed the sweetest to 
him of any he ever heard. At the age of sixteen he lost his 
mother.* This made a deep impression on his mind, and her 
teachings resulted in his joining the Baptist church. An- 
terior to this his aunt, Frances Slocum, was found living on 
the Indian Reserve near Peru. 

"In 1845, ^s George, in pursuit of his business, was to 
pass through Peru, he decided to stop and visit his aunt. 
She received him very kindly, and requested him to come 
again; but he found her and her Indian associates in perfect 
heathenism. They knew not that there was a Sabbath, or 
God of the Sabbath. His religious feelings were interested 
for their spiritual welfare, and he resolved to visit them 
again. In the autumn of the same year he spent a week with 
them, during which he tried to teach them the importance of 
industry and frugality. The red men laughed at the idea of 
an 'Indian workino-. The business of Indians was to hunt.' 

* She died September 16, 1839, from injuries received by being thrown 
from the wagon against a stump by frightened horses. Her name was 
Elizabeth, and she was a daughter of Abel and Elizabeth (Hurlbut) Patrick, 
of Kingston, Luzerne County, Pa., and formerly of Norwalk, Connecticut, 
where she was born April 2(), 1780. She left twelve children— eight sons 
and four daughters— and George Eemington was the youngestof the family. 
— Slocums in America, p. 224. 


'Oh but you must work,' said he. 'Do you not see that your 
hunting ground is being settled by the white men? Soon 
there will be no game. Come, I will go with you to-day and 
we will see how much corn we can gather.' Thus, by ex- 
ample as well as precept, he won them along from their 
indolence and moral darkness, to habits of industry and a 
knowledge of Christianity. 

" Early in the spring of 1846 his aunt sent for her brother 
Isaac to come and see her, as she had important business 
with him. On his arrival at her house, he found her busi- 
ness with him was to have him give George to her, to be her 
son, as she termed it. She said: 'Many of my white rela- 
tives have visited me, but I like George best!' Her brother 
said: "My other sons have left me; George is the youngest 
and last; I need him with me on my farm; but this my most 
cherished plan I give up. George may come if he is willing!' 

"With much joy beaming from her features she said, 
'Thank you, my brother; you shall have my best horse, sad- 
dle and bridle. Go tell him to come, for I need him so much. ' 

" Isaac went home and told the story. The result was that 
in November, 1846, George took his wife and two young 
daughters and removed to the Miami Indian reserve, then a 
wilderness. George and his wife had been baptized one 
month, and to leave their pastor, church and relatives was no 
small trial. Having been used to refined society, too, they 
often looked back to their loved home with longing. But 
here was work. Great things were to be achieved. A rem- 
nant of a once powerful nation of people was to be brought 
into the ranks of civilization — to be taught agriculture, and 
to learn the ways of life. The aunt died March 9, 1847, leav- 
ing them only her blessing. 

" Mr. Slocum seemed not to let an opportunity slip of im- 
proving the minds of the Indians. Six years passed away 


before he saw any practical impression that his labors for their 
spiritual improvement had made. Then Brouillette, a son- 
in-law of his aunt, came to him asking to sign the temperance 
pledge for one year. One year elapsed and he had been faith- 
ful to the pledge; but at the end of the time he was induced 
to drink, and got very drunk ! He came home in the night 
from Peru, crossed the river three times, banks full and ice 
floating down; lost his riding whip and cap, got home at 
length, but almost perished with cold. In the morning, af- 
ter having slept off the effects of the liquor, he went to see 
his counsellor and friend, and addressed him as follows : 
'George, my friend, I want you to write another pledge. 
Make it strong for ten years. I think I shall not live longer 
than that, considering my present age !' He wrote a pledge, 
and as Brouillette signed it, standing up, he raised his hand 
and said : ' Now call God to witness that I no more get drunk!' 
George administered the oath, and the once drunken Indian 
warrior ever kept his pledge. It was two \'ears after this be- 
fore he joined the church, but he always dated his conviction 
back to that time, when George read to him from the Bible 
and portrayed to him the dangers he had passed through, and 
the goodness of the Lord towards him in not suffering him to 
be drowned in the raging stream. It made a lasting impres- 
sion on his mind. Peter Bondy, also another son-in-law of 
Frances, dates his conviction of sin to a reproof in a conver- 
sation with George. Thus he led them along from year to 
year. He was greatly rejoiced when he saw the work of grace 
in their hearts, and thanked the Lord for what he had accom- 

" During his last illness in 1859, Brouillette went to see 
him. The stamp of death was already upon his brow. He 
went to his bedside, took George's hand in both of his own 


and said, while tears fell fast, ' O my brother! my brother! 
must we part? must we part?' George turned his eyes 
calmly upon him and said: ' My dear brother Brouillette, it 
is the Lord's will; it must be so. His will be done!' Then 
he began to talk to him in Miami, and told him above 
all things to be faithful in his ministry. 'O,' said he, 'my 
brother in the Lord, be not again shaken, but be firm and 
strong in the doctrines of your Divine Master. Follow the 
teachings of the Holy Spirit and strive to meet me in heaven.' 
Then his strength failed him, and he could say no more for 
a time. Brouillette sat down, and after a little while kneeled 
down and prayed most earnestly for the Lord to restore his 
dear friend and helper in the Lord. But the time seemed to 
have come and the decree to have gone forth that he must be 
gathered to his fathers, and prayer could not prevail. The 
most earnest petition of his wife was only answered by a 
calm, resigned feeling to God's holy will. A short time be- 
fore his spirit's departure, as he was reclining his head on his 
wife's shoulder, she said: ' My dear husband, it is very hard 
to part with you; I would that I could go with you!' He 
turned his face towards her, and impressing a kiss upon her 
cheek, said: 'It cannot be; the Lord has willed it other- 
wise.' His lips were then cold as the marble that now 
stands over his grave. Soon after he turned to a friend who 
stood near and whispered: ' You understand my business bet- 
ter than any other man; help my wife to settle my business, 
and treat her as a sister.' They then laid him down and 
with a sweet smile on his features, the impress of heavenly 
peace, the spirit immediately took its flight. He died Jan- 
uary 28, i860. This friend of the red man is gone, but his 
name and his work still live." 

" His epitaph is graven well on stone, 
But better, the savage hearts he won." 


Dr. Charles E. Slocum, the genealogist, in a letter to the 
anthor, says: 

" He must have been a strong man in his religions char- 
acter, and persevering withal. He resided in Rochester, N. 
Y. , for a time after marriage, and there he and his wife joined 
the Washingtonian Temperance Society; and probably it was 
largely through his successful efforts to check the intemper- 
ate tendencies of the Indians, that he won their confidence. 
They soon recognized his honesty of purpose and looked 
upon him as a strong tower of refuge in time of trouble. It 
was so with Frances. When the Indians returned from the 
trading post intoxicated and boisterous, she would pass the 
night at his house. 

"George arrived at Reserve with his family November 
20, 1846, and at first occupied a cabin near the river. Con- 
tinued rains raised the river about the cabin, and Frances 
took the family to her house, and would not permit them to 
return until everything was well dried and renovated. 

"There was practical missionary work. He taught by 
example as well as by precept. He was self-sustaining. He 
cleared land and cultivated it, and induced some of the In- 
dians to do likewise." 

Mary Cordelia Slocum, a daughter of the deceased mis- 
sionary — now Mrs. L. G. Murphy, of Xenia, Indiana — thus 
writes concerning herself and her curious experience with 
Frances Slocum and her descendants: 

"I was born at Bellevue, Huron County, Ohio, February 
7, 1846, and was married January i, 1872, at our farm at Sea- 
ton Ford, Waltz* Township, Wabash County, Indiana. My 
husband built a house at the little village of Peoria, near 
where Frances lived, and there we resided for some time. 

* So named in memory of Lieut. Frederick Waltz, who was killed at the 
battle of the Mississinewa December 12, 1812. Hist. Wabash Co., p. 405. 


"There is one peculiarity about my hair — it is like that 
of my great grandfather, a dark auburn. Frances Slocum's 
hair was the same shade. Like her I have a light brown 
spot on the back of my head. This was one of the peculiar 
marks by which her brothers and sister identified her. She 
thought I resembled her very much, and just before she died 
she gave me her name, ' Mah-cones-quah.' And after her 
death her children and grandchildren, sons-in-law, and all of 
the relatives, looked on me the same as if I was her. Indi- 
ans never allow their relatives to die. They will have some 
one to take the place of the deceased, who they think looks 
like them. I was only nine months old when her daughter 
(Mrs. Bondy) commenced calling me mother, or Mingiah, 
(Miami for mother,) and Ma-co-mah, grandmother, as long as 
I can remember. Gray-haired sons-in-law of Mrs. Bondy 
call me Ma-co-mah. They always held her memory in such 
reverence. There was a captive woman married to White 
Wolf, adopted in Frances' place. She was near her age, and 
lived a number of years afterwards. They called her Min- 
giah, because they wanted some one to be her, so that she 
would never die. That was why I was chosen. My parents 
never liked it, and tried to discourage them, but they were 
unmovable, and now call me Mingiah." 

In this statement we have further evidence of one of the 
reasons why the Indians were so anxious to retain Frances 
Slocum, and therefore guarded her with such vigilance and 
care. It was on account of her peculiar and luxuriant hair. 
And that this peculiarity should have already run through 
three generations is a question for the consideration of eth- 
nologists. The superstitious custom of having the dead 
represented by some living person who bears the strongest 
resemblance to the deceased, is one of the strange beliefs of 
these people; but as it is of pagan origin, it will have little 


weight with the enlightened of to-day. The information 
conveyed by Mrs. Murphy, however, is of very great impor- 
tance and adds materially to the interest of the narrative, by 
describing a strange custom still so religiously adhered to by 
a race now nearly extinct. 

Mrs. Eliza O. Slocum, mother of Mrs. Murphy, who now 
resides at Magnolia, Iowa, in a letter received too late to be 
incorporated in the chapter on speculations concerning the 
wanderings of Frances after her capture — and who, from asso- 
ciation with her, had ample opportunities of learning much 
of her history from her own lips — gives several facts which 
are of such great value that they cannot be omitted. They 
are, therefore, condensed and inserted here: 

Mrs. Slocum says that the three Delaware Indians who 
invaded Wyoming Valley in November, 1778, "came for the 
purpose of stealing a child for their chief (?) who had lost by 
death a loved daughter. Then, as now, the Indians recog- 
nized the superiority of the white race, therefore they sought 
a white girl for their captive." When the attack was made 
on the Kingsley boys, and Mrs. Slocum was attracted to the 
door by the sound of the gun, and began interceding for her 
son, whom an Indian was in the act of dragging away, " little 
Frances came and stood by her mother in the door, and when 
the Indian saw her he pushed the boy toward his mother, 
caught up Frances and fled to a cave." From this place of 
concealment Frances informed her that some time during the 
day she "saw her father and eight soldiers hunting them." 
That the pursuing party were close upon the Indians and their 
prisoners is evident, for, continues Frances, "a big Indian 
stood over me with drawn knife and said, ' me kill, me kill!' " 
This terrible threat was made to prevent her from giving any 
alarm. Think of the situation! Her father in sieht, and 


yet she was deterred from crying out to him by fear of death, 
which would no doubt have been her fate at the hands of the 
savage if she had uttered a cry. How the terrified child re- 
strained herself under the circumstances is a question hard to 

"When it was dark," she continues, "they started, wad- 
ing in the water [possibly this was when they crossed the 
river] until they came to a thicket of woods where their 
horses were tied, and mounting them they rode all night and 
came to an Indian village, [Wyalusing]. They left all there 
but the three Indians, who continued with Frances." 

She was rapidly carried north, and in course of time 
reached Canada. According to the statement of Frances, 
"the old Indian trail crossed under the sheet of water close 
by the high rocky wall of the great Niagara Falls. She re- 
membered the boom and roar of the Falls. When they got 
to their home they dressed her in fine, showy clothes, and 
took her to their chief (?) who adopted her as his own child." 

"In after years," she continues, "when she was twenty- 
two years old, and her brothers were seeking her, they offered 
the French traders $500 to tell them where to find her; but 
they said the Indians would kill them if they did." This 
was probably when the Indians were congregated in large 
numbers at Detroit and Brownsville, Canada. 

"When the chief (?) heard," continues the narrative, "that 
her brothers were searching for her, he took her and his wife 
and went to the north part of Indiana to the Miami tribe, and 
gave her to be the wife of a chief of that tribe, and after a 
number of years they moved to Miami county and the tribe 
centered at Osage village, three miles from Peru. She did 
not like to be with so many Indians, so, one day, she started 
to find a pleasanter home. She found the beautiful spring 


and good land surrounding- it. She returned and told her 
husband what she had found, and the next day he went with 
her to the place. They built a house and moved there, and 
it was there that her brothers and sister found her." 

"When near the closing years of her life," continues Mrs. 
Slocum, "she told James T. Miller, the interpreter, to write 
to her brother, Isaac Slocum, in Huron County, Ohio, to 
come and see her immediately, as she had important business 
with him. He came, according to her request, when she told 
him to give her his son George to be her son, for she had no 
son living to take care of her property, and if he would give 
him to her to be her son she would make him an equal heir 
with her two daughters. It was a hard request to grant, as 
her brother had chosen that particular son to live with him, 
he being the youngest of his family. By a special act of Con- 
gress, through the influence of her white relatives, one sec- 
tion* of land had been set off for her. She had a hundred 
ponies, some of which were very beautiful, and the whites 
were stealing them and other personal property. She plead 
her long captivity with the Indians and the great need of her 
white relatives to help her. At the end of her appeal she 
said, ' now give me George!' The brother arose in great agi- 
tation, while the tears coursed down his furrowed cheek, and 
said, ' I will, if he is willing to come.' " 

That he consented and came to the assistance of his aunt 
has already been stated. Mrs. Slocum then continued: 

"She then," when he came, "went through the form of 
adoption according to the tribal laws, as she understood no 
other, and she kept her contract of adoption as long as she 
lived. George moved in November, 1846, and she died the 

*The title to this land, it will be remembered, was vested in the youngest 
daughter, and she and her sister occupied it as "tenants in common." 


6th* of March, 1847. Her estate has never yet been settled 
according to law. Her oldest daughter died four days after 
her mother. She took after her in principle and ability for 
business; the youngest after her Indian father in treachery, 
and in thwarting her mother's will and wishes." 

A tinge of sadness runs all through this narrative which 
the reader will not fail to notice. The statements of Frances 
seem to convey the impression that she was not always satis- 
fied with her captivity, notwithstanding her declarations to 
the contrary. But being kept in ignorance of the efforts that 
were being made to recover her, and having grown up and 
acquired the manners and customs of the Indians, she grad- 
ually lost all desire to return to her friends, and became rec- 
onciled to her condition. And when she married and had 
children she apparently banished all thoughts of ever chang- 
ing her life, and resolved to stay with those among whom she 
had fallen. It is likely that if she could have escaped while 
yet a young woman, she soon would have returned to the 
habits of her own people; but after passing the meridian of 
life, her tastes, feelings and ideas were so firmly fixed that she 
could not have comfortably adapted herself to a new condi- 
tion, however hard she might have tried. 

* All other accounts ai^ree in fixing the time of her death on the !)th of 
March. Mrs. Slocum is probably mistaken in the date. 



ANY RELICS and mementos of Frances have 
been preserved by her relatives and descendants, 
and they are all highly prized; not so mnch 
on account of their intrinsic value, but on account of the as- 
sociations which cluster around them. The most precious as 
well as cherished, perhaps, may be found in the possession of 
Rev. Peter Bondy and Mr. Gabriel Godfroy, residents of Mi- 
ami and Wabash Counties, Indiana. The former, it will be 
remembered, was the last husband of 0-zah-wah-shing-qua, 
the youngest daughter, resided with the family, and was 
present when his mother-in-law died. He still survives at 
the age of nearly 74, and informed the writer in June, 1890, 
that among the keepsakes in his possession is a set of silver 
hair pins which were used by Frances for many years in dress- 
ing her hair, which was always such an object of admiration 
by her adopted people. He also has many little trinkets 
which he prizes highly. When her house was destroyed by 
fire in 1882 many Indian relics of curious and exquisite work- 
manship, besides numerous ornaments used on ceremonial 
occasions, perished. Their loss is deeply regretted, and when 
speaking of them he heaved a deep sigh of sorrow over their 
loss, for there is nothing that an Indian prizes more highly 
than keepsakes of a venerated friend who has departed. 


But the finest collection known to be in existence is found 
in the hands of Mr. Gabriel Godfroy, who married her favor- 
ite granddaughter. She was made the custodian of her 
aunt's most valued costumes, silver ornaments, rings and 
keepsakes, which she had accumulated during her long resi- 
dence among the Miamis. And as she was so highly esteemed 
and respected by her Indian friends, many of these articles 
were presents from them, which, on account of their associa- 
tions made them doubly valuable to them. 

In Mr. Godfroy' s collection is a brown cloth mantle or 
blanket ornamented with embroidery, two shawls, a French 
calico waist, profusely ornamented with silver broaches set in 
rows across the breast; a pair of scarlet flannel leggins of ex- 
quisite workmanship, and a fine pair of buckskin moccasins, 
neatly ornamented with bead work. The fold of fine Macki- 
naw cloth was worn wrapped around the body and held in 
place by a sash. The bottom is handsomely adorned with 
bead and lace work, showing great skill on the part of the 
maker. The needle work on these garments is extremely 
neat and artistic, the stitches being as fine and regular as if 
they had been executed on one of our best modern sewing 
machines. These articles, which once belonged to the ward- 
robe of the Indian queen, are greatly admired by all ladies 
who examine them, on account of the fine stitching and taste 
displayed in the workmanship. 

While these articles of dress undoubtedly once belonged 
to Frances, it is not positively known whether she manufac- 
tured them with her own hands, although we are assured that 
she did. But as she was known to be an excellent wigwam 
keeper, on account of having inherited much of the tastes 
and ideas of her ancestors, we readily conclude that she also 
possessed taste and genius in the execution of needle work. 



and considering her opportunities, certainly excelled in its 
production. We doubt not, therefore, that these articles are 
genuine specimens of her handiwork; and although the deft 
fingers that fashioned them have long since mouldered to dust, 
we accept them as evidences of wdiat she did in her humble 
capacity and with her limited means in the smoky wigwam 
of the red man, and admire the love and veneration shown by 
those who treasure them as sacred souvenirs of a dearly be- 
loved and departed friend. 

In the same collection is a magnificent silver cross, evi- 
dently of French manufacture, which measures io>^ inches 
in height by 7^ in width. The 
cut is an exact counterpart, only 
that it is reduced in size from the 
original. There is little orna- 
mental work on it, the design 
having been, no doubt, to make 
it simple and plain. It is of suf- 
ficient thickness to give it neces- 
sary strength. It was evidently 
fashioned after the style of those 
worn by the Jesuit Fathers of the 
last, and the beginning of the 
present, century, and was very 
likely obtained from them when the Indians resided in and 
about Detroit, or in Canada. Catholicism was the only re- 
ligion taught the Indians at that time, and that many of them 
should become converts is natural. The French traders, too, 
might have introduced these emblems for ornamental pur- 
poses, knowing the tastes and inclinations of the Indians for 
such things. But it is believed they were only used in relig- 
ious ceremonies, or on stated occasions. At the upper end of 

Frances Slocum's Cross. 


the cross is a ring, b}' which it was attached to a string or 
ribbon, which encircled the neck, and the emblem was worn 
by being snspended on the back between the shonlders, after 
the style of the monks of old, Mr. Bondy, on being asked 
regarding it, said that Frances wore it on stated occasions, 
and she had it on her body at the time of her death. But 
there is no evidence to show that she ever became a devout 
Catholic, although it is probable she was under the influence 
and teachings of the Fathers, who labored so earnestly and 
zealously among the Indians during the earlier years of her 
captivity. That they had great control over them during the 
French occupancy of the Mississippi Valley and the lake re- 
gion, is well authenticated by history; and once the French 
won the confidence of the Indians they never lost it, and to 
this day they are respected by them. 

But it is not strange that the captive should have possessed 
this emblem and revered it. French and Indian blood had 
become intermingled, and close relationships established 
through the ties of consanguinity, which will not be severed 
for generations to come. Francis Godfroy, the last war chief 
of the Miami tribe, was a half breed Frenchman; both Brouil- 
lette and Bondy, her last two sons-in-law, were of the same 
origin, and the blood of the two races courses through the 
veins of her descendants down to the present time. J. B. 
Richardville, the \2,?>'i great civil chief of the tribe, was also 
half French, and when he died was buried with Catholic rites 
in the cemetery of that church at Fort Wayne. Through 
such associations and ties of relationship it is natural that 
Frances should have come under the teachings and influence 
of the Jesuits — whether she became a convert to their doc- 
trines or not — and adopted some of the emblems used in their 
pious devotions. 


Her brothers and sister when they first visited her obtained 
many relics which have been carefully preserved by their de- 
scendants. The portraits painted by George Winter are still 
in excellent condition. The first, a full length painting in 
oil, is owned by Mr. George Slocuni Bennett,* of Wilkes- 
Barre, and bears this inscription on the back: " Frances Slo- 
cum, the Lost Sister, Mon-o-con-a-qua, wife of She-buck-o- 
nah, the Deaf Chief. The original sketch made A. D. 1839, 
at the Deaf Man's Village, by George Winter." In a post- 
script Mr. Winter added: "This is the first full length portrait 
in oil of the Lost Sister." A copy of this painting forms the 
frontispiece of this work, A copy was also made from it for 
Dr. Peck's History of Wyoming. 

Mr. Bennett also owns a painting of the Deaf Man's Vil- 
lage, by the same artist, bearing this inscription on the back: 
" The Deaf Man's Village on the river Mississinewa, Indiana, 
the home of the Lost Sister, Sketched A. D. 1839, and 
painted by George Winter." The log cabin where they lived 
is shown conspicuously in the foreground. The surrounding 
scenery is also given, with one or two other cabins to the right 
and rear. Mr. Bennett purchased these paintings from Mr. 
Winter during a visit to his home at La Fayette, Indiana, in 
1871, only four years before he died. 

* Mr. Bennett gives his recollections of the artist as follows: "I met 
George Winter, the artist, in October, 1871, at La Fayette, Indiana, where he 
resided. He was an Englishman, of medium height, of fidl habit and of a 
ruddy complexion. He was about 65 or 70 years old, and appeared to be a 
man of culture and of artistic tastes. I understand he came to the United 
States at an early day, went out on the then western frontier and Indian 
ccnmtry, and became interested in the study of the Indian character. He 
painted portraits of many of their chiefs, and made sketches of their vil- 
lages. He made several paintings of Frances Slocum and the different 
members of her family, and also of her home at the Deaf Man's Village. 
He kept records of his early experience among the Indians, and I believe 
they are still unpublished." 


In addition to the foregoing, Mr, Bennett owns a pair of 
buckskin moccasins which were once worn by Frances, and 
a small piece of calico taken from a garment used by her. 
This garment was splendidly ornamented with circular buck- 
les made out of a white metal resembling silver, and a num- 
ber of them are attached to this remnant. 

He also possesses the original copy of the journal kept by 
his mother, Mrs. Hannah Fell Bennett, when she visited her 
aunt in the autumn of 1839, in company with her father, 
Judge Joseph Slocum, and sister Harriet, now the wife of Hon. 
Henry Lewis of Madison, N. Y. This record of the journey 
is printed in full in this work for the first time, and the 
original is sacredly preserved as a precious souvenir of his 
departed mother. 

Mrs. Martha Bennett Phelps, of Wilkes-Barre, is the owner 
of a small water color picture of Frances, painted by George 
Winter from his large oil painting; also a full length paint- 
ing in oil, by Mr. Winter, of Ke-ke-se-qua, (Cut Finger,) 
daughter of Frances, from a sketch made of her in 1839. She 
is represented in full Indian costume. Mrs. Phelps also owns 
a full length painting in oil of Captain Brouillette, husband 
of Ke-ke-se-qua, painted from a sketch made by Winter in 
1837. It represents him clad in a semi-civilized costume of 
gaudy colors. 

And last of all, Mrs. Phelps owns a pair of silver earrings, 
once worn by Frances. These relics, though small, are highly 
prized, not on account of their intrinsic value, but for their 
associations, and the memories they recall of her great aunt. 

Mrs. Mary Slocum Butler Ayres, of Audenried, Pa., owns 
a large oil painting of Frances,* made for Hon. Joseph Slo- 

* Benson J. Lossing made a copy of this portrait, whicli was used in his 
Field Book of the Revolution. 


cum, by George Winter. It hangs in the parlor of Mrs. Ruth 
Ross Butler Hilliard, of Wilkes-Barre, and has been exam- 
ined by many persons interested in the wonderful history of 
the subject. Mrs. Hilliard also possesses two pairs of mocca- 
sins and one pair of earrings, which once belonged to and 
were worn by the captive. 

No painting was ever made of 0-zah-wah-shing-qua, the 
younger daughter, but as she lived until 1877 she had photo- 
graphs taken, and her likeness is preserved. She adopted an 
English dress, and made a very good appearance, although 
she retained to the last many of the customs of the Indians. 

There are doubtless other trinkets owned by relatives, the 
whereabouts of which have not transpired, and therefore 
they are not enumerated. Mrs. Harriet E. Lewis, of Madi- 
son, New York, who accompanied her father on a visit to her 
aunt in 1837, was also the possessor of a few mementos, but 
gave them to her relatives. 

The widow and children of Rev. George R. Slocum, on 
account of their long residence near where Frances lived and 
died, were enabled to acquire many trinkets and other things 
which once belonged to, or were associated with, their fa- 
mous relative. 

Among the extremely rare mementos of Frances, is one 
now in the possession of the author, which he values highly 
on account of its remarkable historical associations, which 
are far greater than its intrinsic worth. It is a Belgian coin 
of the mintage of 1794, and was once the property of the cap- 
tive. The history of this silver dollar is as follows: During 
the Revolution of 1794 there was no coinage in France. Eu- 
rope was convulsed and business deranged. At that time the 
Austrian monarch, Francis II., who ruled what is now the 
Empire of Austria, was the titular Emperor of Germany, and 


his dominions comprised the Archduchy of Austria and its 
dependent provinces, the Kingdom of Hungary, the Duchy of 
Milan or Lombardy, and the Low Countries, now known as 
Belgium. For each of these four regions there was a distinct 
coinage. The Brabantine, or Belgian, was designated by an 
X shaped cross, profusely ornamented, and bearing three 
crowns. * 

These coins found their way across the ocean in the hands 
of French adventurers, and through the English, who occu- 
pied Canada, and were largely in use along the lakes in the 
early part of this century. French traders, who abounded 
among the northwestern Indians, also gave circulation to this 
money, and it soon found a lodgment in the hands of the In- 
dians. Frances Slocum, who undoubtedly possessed a large 
amount of Anglo Saxon acquisitiveness, secured many of 
these dollars and carefully hoarded them. When Gabriel 
Godfroy married Kin-o-zach-wa, (Elizabeth,) her favorite 
niece, the old lady presented her with about thirty of these 
Belgian dollars. Mr. Godfroy says he was not aware that his 
wife had this money until some time after their marriage. 
One day he was going to Peru, when she handed him two of 
these dollars, and requested him to make some small purchases 
for her. Noticing the peculiarity of the money, he asked 
her where she had obtained it. She immediately replied: 
"Grandmother gave it to me; she had about thirty of these 
dollars." Mr. Godfroy states that he saved the coins and 
used other money in their place. On the occasion of the au- 
thor's last visit to his house in June, 1890, and when he was 
just ready to stej) into a carriage to proceed to the railroad 
station, Mr. Godfroy approached him and said: "I wish to 
present you with something that once belonged to Frances 

*See Memorial of Gold and Silver Coins, Ed. 1851, p. 21. 


Slociim. Here is a silver dollar that was given to my deceased 
wife by her grandmother, which I think yon will prize as 
something rare and valnable. There is no donbt of it once 
having belonged to the old lady. And ont of the number that 
belonged to my wife, the whereabouts of only two are now 
known. I have one and you have the other. Keep it as a 
memorial of her in whose history you are interested." 

The recipient of the old coin was as greatly surprised as 
he was gratified at receiving such a testimonial, and felt that 
he was highly honored by having such confidence reposed in 
him by one whom he had only met for the second or third 
time. The coin is prized as more valuable than something 
that might have cost hundreds of dollars, on account of its 
peculiar history and the thrilling events with which it was 
identified nearly a hundred years ago. 



BEATH again invaded this Indian household. The 
next member of the family tp pass away was Cap- 
tain Brouillette, who, after a short illness, died at 
the old home on the 17th of June, 1867, aged 71 years. He 
had exceeded the time assigned by the Psalmist for man to 
live by one year. His wife* had preceded him by just twenty 
years. During the greater portion of the time he outlived 
her he had been engaged in the work of a missionary among 
the remnant of his tribe, having been converted as early as 
1854. This change in his life was owing to the faithful la- 
bors of Rev. George R. Slocum, his newphew by marriage, 
and who had attended the funerals of both his mother-in-law 
and wife. He became very devout in his new calling, and 
threw all the energies of his life into the work he had taken 
up, and there is reason for believing that he accomplished 
much good and died in the full belief of a new life beyond 
the grave. It is unknown what minister officiated at his 
burial, for his faithful nephew had died nearly eight years 

* According to accounts he married as his second wife, Eliza (.Todfroy, 
who was a daughter of his sister-in-law, 0-zah-wah-shing-qua, by her first 
husband, and therefore his niece-in-law. By her he had one daughter, 
named Frances, and she married William Pe-cong-a. Little is said about 
this marriage. Brouillette claimed that he entered into this relation "while 
he was in the dark"— after "he became a Christian he was in the light." 



before. His remains were laid at rest by the side of his wife, 
and a marble headstone bears this inscription: 

Rev. J. B. Brouillette, 

Converted to the Christian Religion, June, 1854; 


June 17, 1867, Aged 71 Years. 

He was born in the dark and stormy days of 1796 on the 
Wea Plains, of French and Indian parentage, was brought up 
a Miami Indian and died a minister of the Christian Church. 
He came into this world amidst the storms of war and the 
clangor of arms on the western frontier, and went out of it 
soon after the close of the mighty rebellion which shook the 
republic to its foundations. During the course of his long 
life he witnessed the gradual change of many of his people 
from barbarism to civilization, and died in the belief that 
they would all come into the fold of the Redeemer. With 
his death the name of Brouillette perished, for he left no son 
to perpetuate it. 

George Winter, the English artist, who at one time lived 
at Logansport, and died at La Fayette, knew him well, aud 
in the La Fayette Courier of July, 1867, paid a glowing trib- 
ute to his life and character: 

"Jean Baptiste Brouillette," says Mr. Winter, "needs not 
the flattering touch of the artist's pencil or the poet's fanciful 
recitals to make him attractive to the public attention sepa- 
rately from his innate qualities as a man. I remember dis- 
tinctly when I first saw Brouillette. He was on a visit to 
Logansport in the fall of the year of payment. The Potta- 
watomie Indians were at that time very commonly seen in 
Logansport. Ewing's establishment was a means of attract- 
ing the Indians to that point. It was headquarters, too, for 
the receiving of peltries, brought in large quantities. There 



they were properly packed and shipped to the east. It was 
not unfrequently that some of the Indians came to Logans- 
port to bny goods at Ewing's trading post, which stood diago- 
nally to Washington Hall, then kept by our old friend Capt C. 
Vigns. The Miamis were frequent visitors to the vicinity of 
Logansport for the purpose of paying a reverential tribute to 
the memory of the dead, as there was, but a few rods distant 
from the south section of the bridge which immediately led to 
the National Reservation, an extensive Indian burial ground, 
which was an attraction to the curious traveler as he was pass- 
ing through this new and undeveloped country. 

"Captain Brouillette was a French half breed, of elegant 
appearance, very straight and slim. In personal appearance 
he had a decidedly commanding mien. In height he stood 
six feet two inches. His tout ensemble was unique,* as his 
aboriginal costume was expensive and showy. He wore round 
his head a rich figured crimson shawl a la turban, with long 
and flowing ends gracefully falling over the shoulders; silver 
ornaments, or clusters of earbobs, testified their weight by a 
partial elongation of the ears. His hair was jetty black and 
ornamental to a face by no means handsome; forehead not 
expansive, and his visage as a whole was meagre, but withal 
his face was certainly thoughtful, and expressive of great 
power. He wore a fine frock coat of the latest fashion. 
When the Indian assumes the white man's garb, he always 
chooses a frock coat. It is an object of beauty to his eye. 
His 'pesmoker,' or shirt, was white, spotted with small red 
figures, overhanging very handsome blue leggings, 'winged' 
with very rich silk ribbons of prismatic hues, exhibiting the 

* Mrs. Bennett thus describes him in her journal : " His head was covered 
with a handkercliief something like a turban, with nearly a yard of red cal- 
ico hanging down behind. As he ran his horse through the woods with his 
red streamer flying after him, he made a grotesque appearance!" 


squaw's skillful needle work. A handsome red silk sash was 
thrown gracefully over his left shoulder, and passing over his 
breast and under the right arm, with clusters of knots, and 
fringed masses, gave point and style to Brouillette's tall and 
majestic figure. Intellectually, the Miami soared far above 
mediocrity. His mind was clear and strong. He had great 
comprehension and scope of thought. Brouillette had a fine 
reputation as an orator, possessing great volubility of lan- 
guage. He was a very peaceable man, and a great friend of 
the whites, among whom he claimed many friendships. He 
was a great ' Medicine Man,' (though not a juggler,) profess- 
ing a knowledge of the healing art. I well remember some 
time in the summer of 1842, when in Berthelot's trading 
establishment at Peru, word was brought that Pee-waw-pe-o 
had stabbed his squaw in revenge for some family grievance, 
and that she had been taken up to ' Deaf Man's Village,' on 
the Mississinewa, where Brouillette resided with his mother- 
in-law, Frances Slocum, known as the ' Lost Sister. ' Under 
Brouillette's care the Indian woman recovered from her 

"Captain Brouillette, for he was proverbially known among 
the whites by that sobriquet, was the first Miami Indian that 
cultivated corn with the plow. 

"He often visited La Fayette. In the year 1851 I met 
him. He was then on his way to the Wea Plains,* a spot 
identified with his early childhood. The purpose of his visit 
there was to obtain certain roots possessing medicinal proper- 
ties. At that time the noble looking Indian, though still re- 
taining his erect bearing, yet the unmistakable marks of in- 
creasing years were shown in the deepening lines of the face, 

*The famous old Wea town — the Oiiiatenon (Wah-wee-a-tennu) of the 
French— stood on a tract six miles square on the Ouabache (Wabash) liiver, 
near what is now I^a Fayette. See Dillon's Indiana, p. 396. 


and the former jet black hair being impinged with Time's 
frosty touch. 

"More recently, perhaps in 1863, Brouillette, with some 
other Miamis, were on a visit to Peter Langlois', in the 
vicinity of La Fayette. These red men were attracted to the 
artesian well, and were observed testing the qualities of the 
water, when I approached the group and found among them 
'Jim' Godfrey, son of the old war chief, Francis Godfroy. 
Captain Brouillette and 'Jim' gave a friendly recognition, 
and a little pow-wow followed relating to the time when I had 
made sketches of them ' long years ago. ' 

" Bronillette's birthplace was on the Wea Plains. The 
period of his birth [1796] was a time of fearful strife, and 
when ' grim visaged war ' disturbed the peace of this remote 
region. The famous village of Quiatenon was a stronghold 
of the Miami Indians, and to destroy this ancient village was 
regarded of such importance by the United States Govern- 
ment that an expedition, in the year 1791, was sent out from 
Kentucky, 800 strong, commanded by Brigadier General 
Scott. Dillon, in his historical notes, in reference to this 
valley, states that many of the inhabitants of Ouiatenon were 
French, and lived in a state of civilization. By the books, 
letters, and other documents found there, it is evident that 
that place was in connection with and dependent on Detroit. 
A large quantity of corn, a variety of household goods, peltry, 
and other articles, were burned with the village which con- 
sisted of seventy houses, and many of them were well fur- 

" The citizens of to-day can hardly realize that but a few 
miles distant from La Fayette there existed such an extensive 
community of mixed, civilized and savage people at so early 
a period as 1790, yet an earlier period of historic existence 


precedes it. An Indian once very beautifully and touchingly 
expressed himself in reference to the strife that grew out of 
the pale face's invasion of their country. "Know ye, that 
the village of Ouiatenon is the sepulchre of our ancestors !" 

" Brouillette was a half breed. His father* was a French- 
man, and was made a captive when a youth. By a remarka- 
ble coincidence. Captain Brouillette' s wife's mother was also 
a captive, whose discovery in her old age, after a captivity of 
sixty years, (in the year 1837) on the Mississinewa River, 
awakened an intense interest. * * * * =^ 

"H. T. Sample has known this locality over forty-five years 
and was acquainted with the Deaf Man, Brouillette and the 
captive. I visited the village in the fall of 1839 and made a 
sketch of the captive, a valuable subject for the pencil. She 
died some sixteen years since. Captain Brouillette died at 
the village on the 7th ult. There are but few of his tribe 
remaining in the old forest home to hold him in remembrance. 
But while a Miami lives Brouillette will ever have a place in 
the mind and heart. He became a convert to Christianity 
through the missionary labors of Rev. George R. Slocum, a 
nephew of the captive, who settled among the Miamis after 
the discovery of his aunt. Brouillette attached himself to 
the Baptist denomination. He entered into his religious pro- 
fession with an earnest zeal, so much so that he became a 
missionary among the few of the tribe that yet remained in 
the State of Indiana, along the Mississinewa River, Pipe 
Creek, and other old cherished localities of the Miami peo- 

That Brouillette was a strange character, in which the 

*In a petition to the American commander of the post, regarding the 
cultivation of land, signed by a number of French settlers, in May, 1789, ap- 
pears the name of Francois Brouillette. He afterwards became the father 
of the subject of this notice.— Dillon's Indiana, p. 407. 


traits of the Indian and French were peculiarly blended, we 
have abundant testimony. And although wayward in his 
youth, his strength of mind was sufificient, when brought 
under proper influence, to overcome what was evil, and he 
died a pious, honored and respected teacher of the rude peo- 
ple with whom he claimed allegiance, and with whom he had 
always been associated. 

The deep sorrow he expressed at the deathbed of his pious 
friend, Rev. George R. Slocum — spoken of in a previous 
chapter — shows the sympathetic nature and character of the 
man, and the grateful feelings he entertained for his dying 
friend. His earnest and solemn prayer on that occasion is 
further evidence of the high respect he entertained for his 

It will be remembered how Brouillette, after a night of 
dissipation, and his mind racked with remorse over his bad 
conduct, went to Mr. Slocum and desired him to draw up 
another pledge, make it binding and strong, and of a suffi- 
cient period to cover the balance of his life, which he took 
with uplifted hand, calling God to witness that he would not 
indulge in drink again. And it was this affair to which the 
dying man referred when he besought him to always remain 
firm and not give way to temptation again. That deathbed 
scene was a memorable one, and it is believed that Brouillette 
never violated his pledge, but remained firm in the faith to 
the close of his life. 



<^^^ TRANGE, indeed, were the marital relations of 0-zah- 
•^ wah-shing-qua, the second daughter of Frances Slo- 

cum. She was bom about i8i6,- on the Mississinewa, 
lived much longer, and had a more eventful life than her' 
elder sister. According to the best information that can be 
gatliered from the remnant of the Miamis now living in Indi- 
ana, she was married five times. Her husbands may be enu- 
merated as follows: 

I. Louis Godfroy, a nephew of Francis Godfrey, the last 
v/ar chief of the Miamis. The date of this marriage is un- 
known, but she must have been quite young when it took 
place. This marriage did not prove a congenial one, although 
she bore her husband two daughters. He maltreated and 
abused her greatly, and often threatened to kill her. This 
caused her mother much trouble, and finally, when his treat- 
ment became unbearable, and the daughter was in daily dread 
of her life, her mother appealed to Gen. Tipton, who was 
then Indian agent at Fort Wayne. In her distress she re- 
vealed to him the secret of her life, and declared that if 
matters grew worse she would appeal to the government for 
protection, as she was a ivhite woman! This, it is claimed 
by her people now living in Indiana, was the first time she 
spoke, of her origin and captivity to a white man, and that 


Colonel Ewing was not the first man who knew her secret, 
although he acted promptly in her behalf, and as his sympa- 
thies were aroused to the point of action, he succeeded in 
imparting the information he had gained to her friends on 
the Susquehanna, and she was discovered and identified. 
Tipton, it appears, took little notice of the complaint, and 
nothing came of it. Perhaps he considered it a trifling mat- 
ter among Indians, and was not sufficiently interested or 
moved by sympathy, to exert himself Money getting and 
land speculations were paramount to all other considerations 
at that time, and may have had something to do with his 
lack of interest in the case of the "white woman's" daugh- 
ter. However, it seems that her husband was either killed 
or left her, and she became a free woman again. 

II. Wap-shing-qua, in course of time, became her second 
husband, and by him she had one daughter. He suddenly 
died a violent death. This daughter, who was born Sept. 25, 
1836, was named Kin-o-zach-wa, or Elizabeth in English. 
She grew to womanhood and married Gabriel Godfroy, a son 
of the famous chief of that name. vShe was a lady of rare 
accomplishments, considering the time in which she lived, 
and the union was a happy one. She died October 28, 1879, 
aged 43, and a handsome marble stone marks her grave in 
the Godfroy cemetery. She left four sons, Peter, Joseph, 
Frank and Judson, and one daughter, Sarah Joanna. All are 
deceased but Peter and Frank. Kin-o-zack-wa was the favor- 
ite granddaughter of Frances Slocum^ and she left her several 
of her finest dresses and many trinkets and keepsakes when 
she died. These are now in the possession of Gabriel God- 
froy, and he preserves them with scrupulous care as tender 
mementos of "grandmother," as he reverently terms her. 

III. Tac-co-nah was her third husband. By him she had 


one son, but he died in infancy. Her husband was killed by 
a quarrelsome Indian, and she was a widow again. 

IV. She then married a brother of Tac-co-nah, named Ma- 
ma-mundra. By this union there was one daughter. She 
was named Chan-shing-qua, or Lavinia, and is still living. 
Her father did not live long. 

V. Her fifth and last husband was Wah-pah-pe-tah, or Pe- 
ter Bondy, who is still living. They had seven children, four 
sons and three daughters, but only two sons and two daugh- 
ters are living. One of these sons, Judson C. Bondy, married 
Sarah Joanna, the only daughter of Gabriel Godfrey, by his 
second wife, Kin-o-zack-wah, whose mother was the youngest 
daughter of Frances Slocum, and married for her second hus- 
band, Wap-shing-qua. This is a curious comminggling of 
French-Indian-x^merican blood through the Godfroys and 
Slocums, and the question of relationship is a tough one for 
genealogists to solve. 

Judson C. Bondy 's wife died a few years ago, leaving two 
sons, Peter and Joseph, and two daughters, Josephine and 
Mabel Ray. The latter, now (1890) about three years old, is 
the youngest female descendant of Frances Slocum, and like 
her great grandmother, she has a luxuriant head of chestnut 
brown hair. 

The children of Judson Bandy, as well as those of Gabriel 
Godfroy, by his wife Kin-o-zack-wa, are all great grandchil- 
dren of Frances Slocum. A more complicated relationship, 
through intermarriages, is rarely met with, and the problem 
of establishing the true relationship which one family bears 
to the other will afford a study for those who take delight in 
unraveling such knotty questions. 

0-zah-wah-shing-qua died January 25, 1877, aged 67 years, 
just thirty years after her sister, Mrs. Brouillette. Her ill- 


ness was not long, and her death took place in the house 
built by her mother on the hill near the Indian graveyard. 
Burial services were conducted according to the usages of the 
Baptist church, and her remains were laid by the side of her 
kindred in the family cemetery. Her grave, unlike those of 
her mother and sister, is marked by a plain marble tomb- 
stone, which bears this inscription: 


Wife of 

Peter Bondy, 

Died January 25, 1877, 

Aged 67 years. 

The marble cutter evidently spelled the name to suit 
himself, as it differs from the way it is usually expressed by 
Miamis and spelled by modern writers. Her English name 
was Jane Bondy, and she was better known by this title to- 
wards the close of her life than by the one given her by her 

According to the account already given, she was married 
five times and was the mother of twelve children, four sons 
and eight daughters. But of this number only two sons and 
three daughters are living. As a woman she was much more 
rugged and strong than her sister, else she could not have 
endured the hardships and troubles she did and lived to the 
mature age of 67. She lived long enough to see great changes 
wrought among her people through civilizing influences, and 
witnessed the land of her birth changed into a populous, 
happy and prosperous country. Indian habits and supersti- 
tious notions were largely banished from her mind, and under 
the pious teachings of her nephew, and husband,* she expe- 

* In a letter to tlie author, Mr. George Slucum Bennett, who visited the 
Mississinewa nineteen years ago, relates his recollections of the family as 


rienced the blessings which flow from a more clear under- 
standing of the duties of life, and the happiness in store for 
those who turn away from darkness. 

In her habits and manners she was a thorough Indian, and 
never learned to speak the English language. Mrs. Lewis, 
when she visited the family in 1839, with her father and sis- 
ter, Mrs. Bennett, speaks of her as being reserved and of a 
retiring disposition. But, like her mother, she was indus- 
trious and desirous of accumulating property. Mrs. Lewis 
says that "they had clothes and calicoes enough to fill a 
country store. " The daughters were anxious to learn from 
their cousins how to make garments, and the art of knitting 
was especially curious to them, and they took lessons until 
they had learned " the stitch." It was hard at first to adapt 
themselves to the usages of civilized life. When they spent 
a night with their friends at the hotel in Peru, they could not 
be induced to occupy a bed, but wrapping their blankets 
around them, reposed on the floor and slept soundly. The 
industrious and methodical habits of O-zah-wah-shing-qua 
were shown in the business-like manner in which she dis- 
posed of her real and personal property before she died. 

follows : " Mrs. Bondy appeared to be about seventy years old when I saw 
her at her home near Peru, Indiana, in October, 1871. I was accompanied 
on the visit by Mrs. Miller, wife of James T. Miller, who was the interpreter 
for my grandfather, Joseph Slocum, my aunt and my mother, on the occa- 
sion of their visit to Frances Slocum in 1839. Mrs. Miller knew the family 
well and introduced us — my wife and myself — to Mr. and Mrs. Bondy and 
their children. Mrs. Bondy was rather tall, her hair was somewhat gray, 
and she seemed shy of strangers. At first she was reserved. She did not 
speak in English, and I could hold no conversation with her. The children 
and Mr. Bondy were the interpreters. I read to the family from my moth- 
er's journal the account of her visit in 1839. When Mrs. Bondy learned 
who I was, and of the relationship existing between us, and heard me read 
the Indian names of all of the family, her reserve passed away and she 
became very friendly. She seemed to be a woman of character, and pos- 
sessed deep religious convictions." 


As she owned a large body of land, and there were a num- 
ber of heirs, she very wisely made a will apportioning it 
among them. And in order to fully complete the record of 
her life, the patent from the government, and the will, are 
given in full, so that the reader may have easy access to these 
documents. Following is the patent: 

"The United States of America. — -To whom these pres- 
ents shall come, greeting: Whereas, by the twelfth article of the 
Treaty, between the United States of America and the Miami 
Tribe of Indians, made and concluded at the Forks of the Wa- 
bash, in the State of Indiana, on the sixth day of November, one 
thousand eight hundred and thirty-eight, as ratified on the eighth 
day of February, one thousand eight hundred and thirty-nine, the 
United States agreed to grant to 0-zah-shin-qua, and the wife of 
Brouillette, daughter of the Deaf Man, as tenants in common, one 
section of land on the Mississinewa River, to include the improve- 
ments where they now live, which Reserve has been surveyed and 
designated as number twenty-five, containing six hundred and 
forty acres, in township twenty-six, north of range five, east of 
the Second Meridian, Indiana, and according to a return of survey, 
with diagram, as certified on the fourth day of September, one 
thousand eight hundred and forty-nine, b}^ the Surveyor General 
at Detroit, Michigan, is bounded and described as follows, to wit: 

" Beginning at the northwest corner at a post, (marked A) on 
diagram, from which a Burr Oak, fifteen inches in diameter, bears 
south sixty-two degrees east, distant thirty-nine links, and a Hick- 
ory, ten inches in diameter, bears south twenty-one degrees west, 
distant forty-three links; thence along the left bank of the Missis- 
sinewa River up stream, north eighty degrees east two chains and 
twenty links, north seventy-seven degrees east six chains, south 
eighty-seven degrees, east nine chains and fifty links, north eighty- 
seven degrees east nine chains, south eighty-six degrees, thirty 
minutes, east nine chains and fifty links, north eighty-eight de- 
grees east six chains and fifty links, north eighty-one degrees 
east, nine chains and fifty links, south eighty-nine degrees east 
five chains, south fifty degrees east six chains, south thirty-three 
degrees east eight chains, south twenty-one degrees thirty min- 
utes east ten chains, south fourteen degrees thirty minutes east 


thirteen chains and fifty links, south seventeen degrees east five 
chains, south twenty-seven degrees east three chains and fifty 
links, south forty-three degrees east eight chains and fifty links, 
south twelve degrees thirty minutes east four chains, south three 
degrees east three chains and fifty links, south seventeen degrees 
west ten chains and fifty links, south six degrees east three chains 
to a post at the northeast corner, (marked B,) from which a Hick- 
ory twelve inches in diameter, bears north two degrees east, dis- 
tant twenty-two links, and a Hickory ten inches in diameter, bears 
north sixty-eight degrees east, distant three links; thence south 
along the east boundary nineteen chains and fifty links and a half 
to a post at the southeast corner, (marked C,) from which a Beech, 
twelve inches in diameter, bears north thirtj^-nine degrees west, 
distant fifty-three links, and a Buckeye twenty inches in diameter, 
bears south eighty degrees west, distant twenty-one links; thence 
west along the south boundary eighty chains and fifteen links to 
the southwest corner, (marked D,) from which a Sugar, twenty- 
four inches in diameter, bears north thirty-five degrees west, dis- 
tant twentj^-seven links, and a Sugar, fourteen inches in diameter, 
bears south thirty-five degrees east, distant fifteen links; thence 
north along the west boundary eighty-four chains, twenty-three 
links and a half link to the place of beginning. 

" Now know ye, That there is therefore granted by the United 
States unto the said 0-zah-shin-qua and the wife of Brouillette, 
daughter of the Deaf Man, as tenants in common, and to their 
heirs, the tract of land above described. 

"To have and to hold, the said tract with the appurtenances 
unto the said 0-zah-shin-qua and the wife of Brouillette, daugh- 
ter of the Deaf Man, as tenants in common and to their heirs and 
assigns forever. 

"In testimony whereof, I, Zachary Taylor, President of the 
United States, have caused these letters to be made patent and the 
seal of the General Land Office to be hereunto affixed. Given 
under my hand, at the City of Washington, the twenty-sixth day 
of September, in the year of our I^ord one thousand eight hundred 
and forty-nine, and of the Independence of the United States, the 

" By the President. 

"[Seal.] Z. TAYI.OR. 

"Thomas Ewing, Jr., Sec'y. 


"Jos. S. WiivSON, Acting Recorder of the General Tyand Office, 
ad interim. 

"General Land Office. — I, John Wilson, Commissioner of the 
General Land Office, do hereby certify that the foregoing of pages 
I and 2 is a true copy from the record, Vol. IL, pages 19, 20 and 
21, of this office. 

' ' In testimony whereof, I have hereunto subscribed my name 
and caused the seal of this office to be affixed, at the City of Wash- 
ington, this seventh day of August, 1854. 

"JOHN WILSON, Commissioner. 

" Wabash County Recorder's office, — Received and recorded 
Nov. 29th, 1854, in Book P, pages 567, 56S and 569, at 2 o'clock 
P. M. ^ W. STEELE, R. W. C. 

By J. R. POLK, Deputy. 

" Re-recorded this 6th day of December, 1877, at 2 o'clock P. 
M., pages 127, 128, 129 of Vol. No. 25 of Deeds Records of Wa- 
bash County, Ind. JOHN H. DICKEN, R. W. C. 

[By cjuit claim deed, and in consideration of one hundred 
dollars, Nancy Broiiillette (Ke-ke-se-qua) had conveyed her 
interest in the estate " as a tenant in common," to the testa- 
trix, and it was recorded at Wabash March i, 1872.] 

" I, 0-zah-shin-quah, or Jane Bondy, of Wabash County, and 
State of Indiana, do make and publish this my last will and testa- 

" Item I. — I direct that all my just debts be paid, and should I 
not leave sufficient money or money demands to pay the same, I 
direct that such indebtedness shall be made a charge on the re- 
spective lands as herein devised, in equal portions on the lands of 
my children and grandchild. If the proportional amount of such 
indebtedness and expense of administration is paid to my execu- 
tor by any legatee, such share shall be released from such charge, 
Init in case the same is not so paid within three months from my 
death, my executor shall take possession of such share and lease 
the same for such time as the rents thereof will pay the same, and 
additional expenses of leasing, and interest and charges accruing 
l)y such failure to pay. 


"Item 2. — For the purpose of making a division of my real 
estate and designating the respective shares devised, I include in 
one body Reserve number twenty-five, in township twenty -six, north 
of range five east, situate in Miami and Wabash Counties, in the 
State of Indiana, granted to me and my sister Ke-ke-na-ke-shua 
by the United States, also lot number four (4) in section number 
fifteen, in Miami County, and lots numbered six (6) and seven (7) 
in section number fourteen, in Wabash County, in the township 
and range aforesaid. Said lots lying immediately south of said 
Reserve, and with it making a total of six hundred and eighty-six 
acres, more or less. This body of land to be divided by an east 
and west line parallel to the southern boundary, and twenty-nine 
chains and seventy-five and (1-2) links north of the southern boun- 
dary of said Reserve, for the purpose of making the subdivision 
granted to the several legatees as hereinafter specified. A plat 
or map of which body of land, with such subdivisions indicated 
thereon, being hereto attached for the purpose of readily showing 
the same. [Plat omitted]. 

" Item 3. — I wdll and devise to my daughter Pe-me-sack-quah, 
or Rose Ann Bondy, in fee simple, one hundred and six (106) 
acres in the southwest corner of said body of land as specified in 
item 2, and shown on the plat, being a part of said Reserve num- 
ber twenty-five and lot No. 7 in section No. 14, in Miami and Wa- 
bash Counties, described as follows: Bounded on the south by the 
south line of said lot No. 4 and part of lot No. 7; on the west by 
the west line of said Reserve No. 25, and the west line of lot No. 
4; on the north by said division line running east and west, and 
35.68 chains north of the south boundary of said lots, and on the 
east by a line parallel with the western boundary and 29.70 chains 
east therefrom. 

" Item 4. — I will and devise to my daughter Sack-cat-queah, or 
Hannah Mon-o-sah, in fee simple, sixt}^ acres of said body of land 
in Wabash County, Indiana, as specified in Item 2, and shown on 
the plat, described as follows: Bounded on the south by the south 
line of said lot No. 7, in section 14; on the west by the lands of 
Pe-me-sack-quah as specified in Item 3; on the north by said east 
and west line 35.68 chains north of the south boundary of lot No. 
7, and on the east by a line parallel with the western boundary 
and 16.81 and 1-2 chains east therefrom. 

"Items. — I will and devise to my daughter Wah-pah-nock- 


shin-quah, or Frances Wilson, in fee simple, sixty acres of said 
body of land as specified in Item 2, and shown on the plat, being 
part of said Reserve No. 25, and part of said lot No. 7, in Wa- 
bash County, Indiana, and described as follows: Bounded on the 
south by the south line of said lot No. 7; on the west by the east 
line of the lands herein described, to Sack-cot-quah-tah as speci- 
fied in Item 4; on the north by said east and west division line 
35.68 chains north of the south boundary of lot No. 7; on the east 
by a line running parallel with the western boundary thereof, and 
16.81 and 1-2 chains east therefrom. 

" Item 6. — I will and devise to my granddaughter O-zah-nock- 
ke-sun-quah, or Nancy Mon-go-sah, in fee simple, sixty acres of 
said body of land as specified in Item 2, and shown on the plat, 
being a part of said Reserve No. 25, part of lot No. 7 and said lot 
No. 6, in Wabash County, Indiana, described as follows: Bounded 
on the south by the south line of said lots 6 and 7; on the west by 
the east line of the lands described herein to Wa-pah-nock-shin- 
quah, as specified in Item 5; on the north by said east and west 
line, 35.68 chains north of the south boundary of lots 6 and 7; on 
the east by the Mississinewa River; the east line of said Reserve 
No. 25 and the east line of said lot No. 6 being 16.81 and 1-2 
chains wide on the southern boundary. This devise to said 0-zah- 
nock-ke-sun-quah is made subject to a life estate or charge of one- 
half of the proceeds or rents thereof for the use and benefit of Ke- 
pa-ke-min-quah, or Eliza Brouillette,''' during her life. 

Item 7. — I will and devise to my daughter Ke-no-zah-quah, or 
Elizabeth Godfroy,t in fee simple, sixty acres of land in the north- 
west part of said' Reserve No. 25, in Miami County, Indiana, as 
specified in Item 2, and shown on the plat, bounded as follows: on 
the south by the east and west division line, 29.75 and 1-2 chains 
north of the south boundary of said Reser^^e, on the west by the 
west line of said Reserve, on the north by the Mississinewa River, 
and on the east by a line parallel with the western boundary, and 
10.70 chains east therefrom. 

" Item 8. — I will and devise to my son Ke-pah-ke-cop-wah, or 
Judsou C. Bondy, in fee simple, one hundred and forty acres of 

* Her daughter by first marriage, who became the second wife of Capt. 
Pironillette, referred to in the note on page 164. 

t She married Gabriel Godfroy and died Oct. 28, 1879, in her forty-tliird 
year. She was a great favorite with her grandmother, Frances Slocum. 


land in said Reserve No. 25, in Miami and Wabash Counties, In- 
diana, as specified in Item 2, and shown on the plat, and bounded 
as follows: on the south by said east and west division line, 29.755 
chains north of the south boundary of said Reserve; on the west 
by the east line of the lands herein devised to Ke-no-zah-quah as 
specified in Item 7; on the north by the Mississinewa River; on 
the east by a line running parallel to the western boundary of the 
same, and 24.98 chains distant therefrom: provided said east line 
includes the barn on the east side of the same near the river, but 
in case such east line would strike said barn or run west of the 
same, then said east line shall start at the river and run south so 
as to run one chain east of said barn, and to a point one chain 
south; thence west to such point that a line running south and 
parallel with the west bound ar}' shall cut off from such tract and 
amount of land equal to the extra amount included by moving 
such line east so as to include said barn. The tract of land here- 
by devised includes a private burial ground;* for which one-half 
acre is reserved for burial purposes for the use of members of my 

" I also will and devise, in fee simple, to my said son a part of 
the Ta-ko-nong Reserve, in township No. 26, north of range No. 5 
east, in Miami County, Indiana, and described as follows: The 
south half of that part of said Reserve lying between a tract of 
forty acres conveyed by me and my husband to Ke-no-zah-quah, 
or Elizabeth Godfroy, on the west, and the part of said Reserve 
now in possession of James T. Miller on the east, the south boun- 
dary line of the south boundary of said Reserve; and bounded on 
the north by the Mississinewa River and the road known as the 
river road from Peru to Peoria. Said tract hereby devised contain- 
ing forty-two acres, more or less. 

' ' I also will and devise to my said son one-half of all the per- 
sonal property of which I may die possessed. 

" Item 9. — I will and devise to my husband, Wah-pah-pe-tah, 
or Peter Bondy, in fee simple, in lieu of his interest in my lands, 
sixty acres of said Reserv^e No. 25, in \ County, Indiana, 
bounded and described as follows: On the south by said east and 
west division line 29.755 chains north of the south boundary of 

* This is the ground in which Frances Slocuni and her children are 


said Reserve; on the west by the east line of the lands devised to 
Ke-pah-ke-cop-wah, as specified in Item 8, and shown on the plat; 
on the north by the Mississinewa River, and on the east by a line 
parallel with the western boundary; such western line being sub- 
ject to changes specified in said Item 8. If no changes are made 
in said west line, the eastern boundary to be 10.70 chains distant 

"Item 10. — I will and devise to my son Tak-quah-ke-uh, or 
Camillus Bondy, in fee simple, one hundred and forty acres of 
land in the northeast part of said Reserve No, 25, in Wabash 
County, Indiana, as specified in Item 2, and shown on the plat, 
and bounded as follows: On the south by said east and west line 
29.755 chains north of the south line of said Reserve; on the west 
b}^ the east line of the tract of land devised to Wa-pah-pe-tah in 
Item 9, and the north and east by the Mississinewa River. 

" I also will and devise to my said son, in fee simple, the south 
half of said portion of the Ta-ke-nong Reserve in Miami County, 
Indiana, as described in Item 8, of which my son Judson C. Bondy 
was the other half. Said tract hereby devised containing forty- 
two acres, more or less. 

" I also will and devise to my said son Camillus Bondy the one- 
half of all the personal property of which I may die seized. 

"Item II. — I will and devise, in fee simple, to my daughter 
Chan-shin-gan, wife of Nelson Taw-a-taw, all that part of the Ta- 
ko-nong Reserve, in township No. 26, north of range 5 east, in 
Miami County, Indiana, which is bounded as follows: On the 
north and west by Mississinewa River; on the east by the part of 
said Reserve in possession of James T. Miller, and on the south 
by the road leading from Peru to Peoria, known as the river road. 
Said tract of land hereby devised containing thirtj^-five acres, more 
or less. 

" Item 12. — -I hereby nominate and appoint my husband, Peter 
Bondy, executor of this my last will and testament, and I do 
hereb}^ direct that he shall not be required to give bond as such 

" Item 13. — I hereby revoke all former wills by me made. In 
testimony hereof I have hereunto set my hand and seal this tenth 
day of July, in the year 1873. 

" 0-ZAH-SHIN- (her X mark) QUAH. [Seal.] 

"Attest, J. M. Brown. 

"T. F. Richardville. 


"Signed and acknowledged by said O-zah-shin-quali, or Jane 
Bondy, as her last will and testament in our presence, and signed 
bv us in her presence. 



" (See Will Record ' B,' page 220). 

" Plat of Reserve No. twenty-five, in township 26 N. range 5 
east, and lot N. 4 in section 15, and lots 6 and 7 in section 14, 
with subdivisions as made by will of 0-zah-shin-quah, wife of 
Peter Bondy, omitted. 

"State of Indiana, Wabash County: 

"I, James P. Ross, Clerk of the Circuit Court of Wabash 
County, Indiana, do hereby certify that the within annexed last 
will and testament of 0-zah-shin-quah, or Jane Bondy, has been 
duly admitted to probate and duly proved by the testimony of Jas. 
M. Brown, one of the subscribing witnesses thereto; that a complete 
record of said will and the testimony of said 0-zah-shin-quah, or 
Jane Bondy, in proof thereof has been by me duly made and re- 
corded in Book ' B,' at page 220 of the Record of Wills of said 

" In testimony whereof, I have hereunto subscribed my name 
and affixed the seal of said Court, at Wabash, -this 15th day of 
February, 1877. 

" Clerk of the Circuit Court. 

"Recorded April 13, 1878, in Deed Record No. 23, at pages 
566 to 570. of the Deed Records of Wabash County, Indiana." 

Much of the land embraced in this tract, and which she 
took such pains to apportion among her heirs, is hilly and 
broken, and the soil is thin. That portion lying along the 
Mississinewa River, however, is very good, and produces fine 
crops of corn. Several of the heirs have sold their shares, 
and others still live there. There are houses and outbuild- 
ings on several of the divisions, and they are occupied by the 
descendants of the devisor, or tenants. 

Near the great spring where the "white woman" first 
settled, a good, modern two story frame dwelling house was 


erected a few years ago. It belongs to Judson C. Bondy, who 
inherited the ground upon which it stands from his mother, 
and it was occupied by him until the death of his wife by 
consumption a few years ago. 

The house on the hill which Frances Slocum occupied 
when she died, was destroyed by fire in iP'^2, and a large 
number of Indian relics and antiquities that belonged to her 
perished. The loss, which was irreparable, was greatly de- 
plored. Many things were saved, but some of the most val- 
uable and curious trinkets, the accumulations of a long life 
among the people with whom her destiny was cast, were 
lost forever. The site of this dwelling, like the one where 
she first lived, is now marked by a pile of stones, and the 
vegetation around the spot in summer time is rank and luxu- 
riant. How appropriate it would be, on account of her 
strange and eventful life, to erect a tablet on the spot to tell 
visitors who come and go every spring, summer and autumn, 
that here is where she breathed her last, and in yonder ceme- 
tery her ashes repose ! 

That the reader may have a better understanding of the 
line and the number of descendants of Frances Slocum, and 
their names, the following table is inserted. It was prepared 
by a member of the family of Rev. George R. Slocum, who, 
from long residence in the Miami settlement, had ample op- 
portunities to become well acquainted with the descendants, 
and therefore give their names and line of descent correctly. 
It is as follows: 

(Mrs. Gabriel Gjdfroy ) 

(Half Sister to Kino zach-qua.) 

(Wah pah-pe tab.) 

mabe: r i \ i 

(Youngest Descendant.) 



























" ^ n 
w §. ^ 

CIj rr" 

w ^ 

o ^ 

w g ^ w :ii w 

s. ^ 



'^ a 

o ;:? 

CIi o 

lip v: 


;^ o 

rO in 

.5^ o 

^ O W ^ W 
^ 5 2 a S 

ii. a :::!'■'" o 


to ja 

3 O 

3 P 

Q Q 


Mabel Ray Bondy, now about three years old, is claimed 
by her grandfather, Gabriel Godfrey, to be the youngest 
female descendant of Frances Slocum. And like her, he 
says, "she is red headed!'' Mabel is a very pretty child, and 
greatly beloved by her grandfather. Her hair, like that of 
her great grandmother, is luxuriant in growth and falls in 
graceful ringlets over her shoulders. It is difficult to dis- 
cover a trace of Indian blood in her countenance — the French 
and American predominating. 

Nancy Brouillette, who married James Mongosa, is reported 
to be the mother of a son named Julius, and it is possible that 
there are others who may have had children in this line since 
the foregoing information was obtained. Julius Mongosa is 
the only known great great grandchild. But that Mabel Ray 
Bondy is the youngest descendant in the female line there 
seems to be no doubt, and her relatives attach great import- 
ance to this fact. 

Judson C. Bondy, who inherited 140 acres of land from 
his mother, lives at the old homestead in accordance with her 
expressed wish before she died. These people have a super- 
stitious veneration for their deceased relatives, and they cher- 
ish the memory of their great grandmother (Frances) as 
something sacred, and are governed by the expression of the 
Great Spirit in Job v., 23: " For thou shalt be in league with 
the stones of the field; and the beasts of the field shall be at 
peace with thee." 

The great Miami Confederacy, once so powerful, has long 
since ceased to exist, and its wide domain, now cut up into 
four or five'of our most thrifty and populous Western States, 
over which great chieftains ruled with regal sway, is now 
controlled by another race — the race which seems to have 
been selected by the hand of destiny to drive the red man 
from his home and possessions in the Western World. 


When the remnant of the tribe left the Wabash and emi- 
grated to their reservation in Kansas, in 1846, they only re- 
mained there about eight years, when they were called upon 
to meet in treaty again. This was in 1854, when they ceded 
500,000 acres, which had been set off to them by act of Con- 
gress, February 25, 1841, on condition that they were to 
each take 200 acres, and near their reserves to have 70,000 
acres in a body in common, and a section for school purposes. 
There are accounts of lengthy settlements of previous trans- 
actions; the $25,000 annuity ceased in 1855, and an annuity 
of $7,500 was to be paid for twenty years, and $50,000 in- 
vested for the tribe. 

Finally, in 1868,* the unfortunate Miamis, in spite of all 
the " forevers " and "pledges" theretofore made, were re- 
quired to make a treaty by which they were removed to the 
Indian Territory, and confederated with the Peorias, Kaskas- 
kias, Weas and Piankeshaws, and from this last refuge, if any 
of them remain, no one can say how soon they will be called 
on to depart. But, in that event, whither will they go ? 

We have now traced the history of Frances Slocum from 
her birth in Rhode Island, in March, 1773, down to her death 
in Indiana, in 1847, and noted everything relating to her 
wonderful career that could be obtained through persistent 
and careful research and by interviews with her Indian 
friends. If an exhaustive record of her life and wanderings, 
from capture to discovery, could be given, it would form 
one of the most interesting, as well as startling and pathetic, 
chapters in American annals. And looking at it in this light, 
we cannot refrain from regretting that greater efforts were 
not made when she was alive to gather from her lips a fuller 
account of her life with the savages. What strange scenes 

*See History of the Valley of the Upper Maumee, p. 198, 


and ceremonies she must have witnessed in the days of war 
along the lakes and in Canada; what acts of cruelty, torture 
and death must have come under her observation when liv- 
ing at Detroit, Ke-ki-ong-a, the interior of Ohio, and other 
points, until the shattered remnants of her powerful tribe 
drifted down the Wabash, and she finally settled on the 
banks of the little river where she died! The sorrows, hopes 
and fears of a life of captivity for nearly sixty years — from 
prattling childhood to mature old age — came within the scope 
of her mental vision and rose up like a spectre to haunt her 
mind whether in the forest, on the plain or the river. What 
if everything occurring in her long and sad career could be 
written in a book! . 

One hundred and twelve years — over eleven decades — have 
rolled away and disappeared in the misty past since that un- 
lucky day when she was rudely snatched from her mother's 
arms by a stalwart savage and borne into the forest, to be lost 
to parents, relatives, friends and civilization for over half a 
century. And now, although we are in the decimal of the 
nineteenth century, and the country has grown rich and pros- 
perous, and great wars have come and gone, the pathetic story 
of her captivity and recovery has not been forgotten, but pos- 
sesses as deep an interest, excites as much sympathy in the 
minds of those familiar with it, and causes as many tears to 
be shed as if it had occurred but yesterday. The story of 
Frances Slocum will never be forgotten as long as we have a 
language and a history, and in the distant future it will be as 
eagerly read and wept over as it is to-day by young and old. 

The Slocum family is an illustrious one. It has prospered, 
multiplied, and spread all over the land; it has produced many 
men of eminence — men who have attained to high distinction 
in the civil and military professions — men who have brought 


great honor to their country, and transmitted unsullied names 
to their posterity. The ancestry of this family is traced back 
more than two hundred and fifty years, and to-day its mem- 
bership will reach nearly two thousand in America. What a 
line of descent. The family name, so far as known, has been 
free from tarnish. And among all the distinguished men and 
women who have borne the surname, it is believed there is 
not one, notwithstanding the opportunities of education, en- 
lightenment, culture, and the refining influences of society 
which they have enjoyed, who has shown a higher degree of 
native intellect, a greater breadth of inborn genius, and ex- 
ecutive ability, than the Lost Sister, whose lot, by a strange 
decree of fate, was cast among barbarians, and for the period 
of a long life denied every opportunity which we consider 
essential to intellectual development and moral power. And 
there are few among the great number bearing this name who 
have passed away, who were more respected, than she whose 
ashes commingle with the soil of one of our great Western 
States, or whose memories are more fondly cherished by their 
descendants. Deprived of the comforts of civilized life, of 
education and general knowledge, the child of sorrow and 
suffering; yet her untutored mind towered above all and com- 
manded the love, respect and admiration of her tribe. Verily, 
as in this case, truth is stranger than fiction; and in the ways 
of Providence there are many mysterious things, and in this 
affair we have one of the most mysterious of all. 




In May, 1836, George Peters, Retrom Harrison Peters, and 
myself, left the State of Ohio, on our horses, for a journey 
through the West, without any particular objective point. 
We passed through Dayton and Greenville, into the State of 
Indiana at Winchester, thence to Muncie, thence northward 
to the Mississinewa River, at the point where Jonesborough, 
in Grant County, now stands. The road to this point, in 

* From a very full biographical sketch, by Mrs. Eva Peters Reynolds, it 
is learned that Hon. Horace P. Biddle, the eminent retired jurist, was born 
in Fairlield County, Ohio, March 24, 1811; studied lavi^ under the direction 
of H. H. Plunter, of Lancaster, Ohio, upon the recommendation of Hon. 
Thomas H. Pawing, and was admitted by the Supreme Court at Cincinnati 
in 1839. In the fall of that year he located at Logansport, Ind., and opened 
an office. He soon had a lucrative practice, rose to the first rank in the pro- 
fession, and received the highest judicial honors of the State. He served as 
president judge from 1846 to 1852, and again from 1860 to 1872. In 1874 he 
was cliosen to the Supreme bench. In 1881, at the age of seventy, he re- 
tired from active life and devotes his time to the study of literature and 
music. He lives in a plain brick house, on an island in the Wabash River, 
at Logansport. His library, the largest private collection in Indiana, com- 
prises over 7,000 volumes. He is the author of seven or eight books, princi- 
l)ally poetry, and a valuable work entitled the " Musical Scale." Judge 
Biddle has invented two musical instruments— one a viol, which he has 
named "Tetrachord," the other a harp, which he calls " Eureka." He is well 
read in law, literature, science and art, is a delightful companion, a charm- 
ing conversationalist, and his company is much sought after. — The Author. 


the State of Indiana, was one gore of deep black mud. From 
Jonesborough down the river to Marion, the county seat, the 
road was good. At Marion, finding Oliver Goldthwait, an 
old friend of mine from Ohio, who was our landlord at the 
hotel, we tarried several days. Court was in session at the 
time. I was then a law student; the proceedings were very 
interesting and instructive to me, as I then had an eye to a 
location in the West. We then started for Peru, Indiana, 
through the Miami Indian Reserve — a distance of thirty 
miles — without any laid out road, but plenty of Indian trails, 
and blazed lines, along, about, across, and around which we 
wandered as in a maze, and in something of an amazement, 
too. We occasionally questioned the Indians as we met 
them or passed them, about the road to Peru, but they would 
neither look at us nor talk; but after a solemn pause they 
would wave a hand slowly in the general direction toward 
Peru, when there would be two or three forks in the trails in 
sight, which did not much relieve our perplexity. Thus we 
wandered until in the afternoon James T. Miller overtook us, 
and informed us that he was going directly to Peru, and re- 
quested us to follow him. Mr. Miller understood and spoke 
the Miami language, also the Pottawatamie. On the way he 
told us the story of the finding of Frances Slocum by George 
W. Ewing — that she had been stolen by the Indians soon 
after the Wyoming massacre in Pennsylvania. She had been 
discovered the summer before. We passed near her wigwam, 
but did not see her. We also passed the residence of Chief 
Godfrey — a very comfortable house. We saw the chief who — 
half his blood being French — politely recognized Mr. Miller, 
spoke a few words with him in the Miami language, as Mr. 
Miller informed us, and we passed on. In a short time we 
came to the Wabash River, opposite Peru, ferried it over — 
man and horse, and soon found ourselves in comfortable quar- 


ters in a long barracky hotel, kept, if I remember right, by 
James B. Fulwiler, whom I have favorably known ever since. 
It may be said, though not directly in the line of our sub- 
ject, that we continued our journey down the Wabash River 
to Logansport, where we found friends and acquaintances, 
and tarried several days. This place was then the residence 
of Col. Ewing. After our enjoyment we continued our way 
to La Fayette — pausing at the then celebrated battle-ground 
of Tippecanoe, where General William Henry Harrison won 
his fame. He was then a candidate for the presidency. From 
La Fayette we took a northwestern direction over the prairies, 
crossing the Illinois River at Peoria, and reaching the Missis- 
sippi at New Boston, opposite the mouth of the Iowa River. 
There we crossed the Mississippi and went up the Iowa near 
where Iowa City now stands, and saw the celebrated Indian 
chief Black Hawk — called in Indian Me-she-ki-ah-ka-guah — 
in his tent. This was soon after the Black Hawk war, which 
gave peace to the territory out of which Iowa, and other 
States west of the Mississippi, have been formed. The old 
chief had been deposed, and seemed much humiliated. He 
would not look towards us, but turned his head away, and 
would not answer any questions. We then wandered north- 
ward, turning eastward till we returned to the Mississippi 
River at Rock Island. Just before we arrived there we met 
about two hundred Saux and Fox Indians, in their war paint, 
riding two and two. They neither turned nor looked to the 
right nor the left. What is now the city of Davenport had 
then just been laid out. There we saw Davenport, the inter- 
preter, and Ke-o-kuk, the half-breed chief who had succeeded 
Black Hawk. He was partially dressed in citizen's clothes, 
and seemed to be a very mild kind of man. There were also 
a great number of Indians present, I think of various tribes, 
some in their war paint. Crossing the Mississippi there we 


came on eastward to where the city of Chicago now stands. 
After we came in sight we had to cross a big wet prairie a 
half-a-day's ride in width. The only dry place was around 
the mouth of the Chicago River, where there were something 
like a fort, a few Indians, a squad of troops, and perhaps three 
hundred white people. Now it is one of the leading cities of 
the world! From there we came home through northern In- 
diana to Ohio. But enough of episode. 

After we returned home, I still pursued my legal studies 
at Lancaster, and was admitted to practice in the State and 
Federal Courts at Cincinnati in. April, 1839. I traveled the 
circuit that year with the old lawyers — very much to my ad- 
vantage — tried several cases, and, armed with my credentials, 
in October removed to Logansport, Indiana, where I have 
ever since resided. Col. Ewing was still a citizen of Logans- 
port, with whom I became acquainted; but he soon removed 
— I think within a year — to Peru. Afterwards I saw him less 
frequently; but in a year or two from that time I became very 
closely and intimately acquainted with him. He was indict- 
ed, I think it was in the year 1843, ^^ ^^^ Miami Circuit Court, 
for an assault committed on the Hon. Daniel R. Bearss, by 
shooting at him with two pistols — there were no revolvers 
then — with intent to commit murder. In person Ewing was 
a little over six feet in height, slim, and as straight as an In- 
dian's arrow. His temperament was the nervous-sanguine, 
the nervous prevailing. A lively grey eye in his head, with 
one of the keenest, clearest, quickest minds that was ever 
given to brains. But his education was limited, and some- 
what defective. His step was cat-like and elastic, and his 
manners princely. Bearss was a heavier man, more muscular, 
and known to be aggressive in personal conflicts — an over 
match for Ewing, and had threatened to whip him. 


Their difficulty had grown out of some Indian affairs, not 
necessary to state. They were both Indian traders. Under 
these circumstances Ewing had armed himself with a pair of 
pistols, which he had frequently shown in public, declaring 
that he would kill Bearss if he ever attempted an attack upon 
him. They met. Bearss made some demonstrations, but no 
imminent attack. Ewiug drew his pistols, fired them both 
at him. Neither took effect. Bystanders interfered; the af- 
fray was squelched. This was the case. Ewing came down 
from Peru to Logansport to employ me as his attorney and 
counsellor — arriving after 9 o'clock in the evening. He had 
a way of leaving and returning home without being missed 
by his neighbors. He remained closeted with me till after 
midnight. During his statement of his troubles, his keen 
mind, incisive words, and his flashing, basiliskal eye, several 
times led my mind away from the subject-matter, so that I 
had to ask him to repeat certain parts of his statement. But 
I got the matter well in hand before he left. In a few days 
afterwards I received a letter from him containing twelve 
sheets — I remember it well — of foolscap paper closely written. 
He had gone to the records of the court and obtained the 
names of the jurors for the term, who would necessarily have 
to try his case, and had given me a searching biography and 
character of each juror, which concluded with some prompt, 
vigorous words — such as : "This man is my peer, I am will- 
ing to be tried by him;" or, " this man is dull and ignorant; 
and do not want him;" or " this man is my enemy, we must 
get rid of him." It was a complete analysis of the character 
of each juror. He also gave me a similar account of each of 
the witnesses against him, as to which one was fair or preju- 
diced, intelligent or ignorant; and what points to press, or 
pass over tenderly, or to exclude if possible. Everything that 
could strengthen or weaken his defence was laid before me. 


The trial came on. The Colonel sat by me, apparently indif- 
ferent, but his nerves were strung up to the highest pitch. I 
had been so well posted that we had no occasion to consult 
together during the trial, and we had no difficulty in acquit- 
ting him. He was indeed not guilty of the intent charged 
against him; and if he had been the question would have 
arisen whether he was not justifiable. The professional 
friendship he had for me became personal, and he was always 
confidential with me afterwards. He died at Fort Wayne, in 
the year 1866, in the 63d year of his age. 

I heard but little of Frances Slocum for several years after 
I settled in Logansport. Her case was the subject of conver- 
sation occasionally as very wonderful. Col. Ewing had writ- 
ten a letter to Pennsylvania, to what address I do not know, 
giving an account of the discovery of Frances; but to this let- 
ter there never was any response that I know of ; at least I 
never heard anything additional about Frances until her 
friends came to the West in search of her. The subject was 
then very much talked about, and I remember distinctly what 
was related as one of her remarks. When her friends urged 
her to return with them to Pennsylvania she answered: "No; 
I have been a long time with the Indians; they have been good 
to me; I have children. It is very easy to make an Indian 
out of a white man, but you cannot make a white man out 
of an Indian," — which latter remark is profoundly true. I 
recollect very well when Mr. Winter painted the portrait of 
Frances Slocum; I think that it was at the request of Ben- 
son J. Lossing,* the author and publisher of many valuable 
books on American subjects. It was after this when Mr. 
Winter went to paint the portrait of Chief Godfroy that the 

*It was painted at the request of her brother, Hon. Joseph Slocum. — Au- 


Indians fell down on their faces, and hid them in various 
ways to prevent him from taking theirs also. This anecdote 
I believe I related to Mr. Meginness verbally. Mr. Winter 
was an English artist who came to Logansport at a very 
early date. xA.bont 1850 he removed to La Fayette, Indiana; 
visited California and the Pacific coast about a year; re- 
turned home to La Fayette, where he died suddenly in Feb- 
ruary, 1876. 

Chief Godfrey was the war chief of the braves; Chief 
Richardville — pronounced Roosheville — was the civil chief of 
the tribe. He was a Frenchman, older than Chief Godfroy, 
and more astute in diplomacy. This anecdote is told of 
him as occurring at the treaty of 1826, held at Wabashtown. 
After the articles of the treaty were all agreed upon, and the 
chiefs were about to "touch the quill," which means signing 
the treaty, Richardville addressed General Lewis Cass, who 
was one of the Commissioners on the part of the United 
States: "General, you forgot one little ting." "What is that, 
Chief?" said the General. " Eighteen tousand dollar for de 
Chief, Roosheville." He would not "touch the quill" till 
that article was inserted in the treaty. And in the treaty it 
was perforce inserted. 

Another anecdote of Chief Richardville: William G. Ew- 
ing — a brother of Col. George W. Ewing — had some diffi- 
culty with Mr. Berthelette, a Frenchman, another Indian 
trader, who was an intimate friend of Chief Richardville. 
Berthelette became very much incensed, and went to see the 
chief about his difficulty with William G. Ewing. His first 
salutation was: "Chief, I want your pistols." " Oui oui, si; 
what for you want my pistol, Mr. Bar-te-lette. " "I want 
to kill Bill Ewing." Ah, oui, you shall have my pistol, 


Mr. Bar-te-lette; but come in and eat some dinner with me." 
The chief's hospitality to his friends was famous. Mr. Ber- 
thelette dined with the chief. After dinner was over Berthe- 
lette became very restless. The chief said nothing more 
about the pistols. Berthelette addressed him: "Chief, now 
for the pistols." "Ah, oui; I get you dem pistol." The 
chief retired a few minutes, and came back with two bottles 
of wine. " Here, Mr. Bar-te-lette, my pistol" — handing him 
the two bottles of wine — "but take care, now, you shoot 
yoursef " So the blood was turned to wine, instead of the 
wine to blood. 

The following anecdote was told of Chief Godfroy : When 
the time arrived for the removal of the Indians west, accord- 
ing to the terms of the treaty, the Government sent Captain 
Jndson, of the regular army, with a single company of troops, 
to conduct the removal of about eight hundred Indians. Cap- 
tain Judson was a guest of the " Bearss Hotel," the principal 
public house at that time in Peru. The chief met the Cap- 
tain there frequently, and they became very friendly. But 
after some time the chief became very cool towards the Cap- 
tain. It was rumored that the traders had put up the chief 
to be ugly, and oppose the removal. Finally the chief ad- 
dressed the Captain: "Captain Judson, me not go; Indians 
fight." The Captain touched the hilt of his sword at his 
side: " Chief, that is my profession; that is what I came for." 
There were no more objections to the removal. The re- 
moval was made; but it was pitiful. The great majority of 
the Indians knew nothing of the treaty understandingly, and 
were reluctant to leave their homes — the many more so be- 
cause the few were excepted in the treaty, and allowed to 
remain on their lands — among them Frances Slocum and 
her family. And their dogs could not "bear them com- 


pany." They left them in hundreds, tied, to howl to the 
wilderness and starve. And this was the last of the Miamis 
as a tribe. 


Remarkable, indeed, was this French-Indian. He was the 
last great civil ruler and lawgiver of the Miamis, and so dis- 
tinguished for bravery and executive ability as to deserve more 
than an ordinary notice in this connection. 

His Indian name was Pe-che-wa (Wild Cat), but he was 
more generally known as John B. Richardville, (pronounced 
Roosheville) and so signed the treaty of 1838. According to 
the best authority he was the son of Joseph Drouet de Rich- 
ardville,* who was of noble lineage, and was probably en- 
gaged as an officer in the French service in Canada, before 
being lured into the western wilds by the prospect of amass- 
ing wealth in the fur trade. He appears to have been a trader 
at Ke-ki-ong-a (Fort Wayne) before the ill-timed expedition 
of La Balm, in 1780, to capture that place. The mother of 
young Richardville was Taw-cum-wah, a daughter of Aque- 
nock-que,t principal chief of the Miamis, and a sister of Little 
Turtle. He was born, as tradition has it, and as he himself 
often stated, near the "Old Apple Tree," in the midst of the 
Miami village at the junction of the St. Joseph's with the 
Maumee, about the year 1761. A brother of his father was a 
trader at " Post St. Vincents," or Vincennes, and descendants 
of his still reside at that place, who possess valuable French 
documents brought into the wilderness by the adventurous 

* See Hist. Upper Maumee Valley, p. .■).']. 

t He signed the first treat)' with the Miamis at Lancaster, Pa., July 28, 


sons of France nearly 170 years ago, which trace their ances- 
try back to 1 162. 

Hehn, in his History of Wabash County, says that the asso- 
ciations clustering around the old apple tree where the chief 
was born, and where he spent his childhood days, ever after- 
ward gave him a profound regard, approaching almost to 
reverence, for its continued renewal of the joyous scenes so 
intimately blended with the recollections of his early life; 
hence he was instrumental in its preservation as one of the 
early relics of the past. This old tree was regarded with 
such favor that an illustration of it was given in Brice's His- 
tory of Fort Wayne. But like the famous chief who was 
born under its boughs in the days of barbarism, it has long 
since disappeared. 

Lieutenant Governor Robertson, in the History of the Val- 
ley of the Upper Maumee, states that among the many thrill- 
ing and interesting incidents and narrations, as frequently 
recited by the chief to Allen Hamilton, he gave an account 
of his ascent to the chieftainship of his tribe. The occasion 
was not only thrilling and heroic, but, on the part of his 
famous mother and himself, will ever stand in history as one 
of the noblest and most humane acts known to any people, 
and would serve as a theme, both grand and eloquent, for the 
most gifted poet or dramatist of any land. 

It was in a wild and barbarous age. Ke-ki-ong-a still oc- 
casionally echoed with the shrieks and groans of captive men; 
and the young warriors of the region still rejoiced in the bar- 
baric custom of burning prisoners at the stake. A white man 
had been captured and brought in by the warriors. A coun- 
cil had been convened, in which the question of his fate arose 
in debate and was soon settled. He was to be burned at the 
stake, and the braves and villagers generally were soon gath- 


ered about the scene of torture, making the air resound with 
their triumphant shouts of pleasure at the prospect of soon 
enjoying another hour of fiendish merriment at the expense 
of a miserable victim of torture. Already the man was lashed 
to the stake, and the torch that was to ignite the combusti- 
ble material placed about the same was in the hands of the 
brave appointed. But rescue was at hand. The man was 
destined to be saved from the terrible fate that surrounded 
him. Young Richardville had for some time been singled 
out as the future chief of the tribe, and his heroic mother 
saw in this a propitious and glorious moment for the assertion 
of his chieftainship, by an act of great daring and bravery — 
the rescue of the prisoner at the stake. Young Richardville 
and his mother were at some distance, but sufficiently near 
to see the movements of the actors in the tragedy about to 
be enacted, and could plainly hear the coarse ejaculations and 
shouts of triumph of the crowd. At that moment, just as 
the torch was about to be applied to the bark, as if touched 
by some angelic impulse of love and pity for the poor cap- 
tive, the mother of young Richardville placed a knife in her 
son's hands, and bade him assert his chieftainship by the 
rescue of the prisoner. The magnetic force of the mother 
seemed instantly to have inspired the young warrior, and he 
quickly bounded to the scene, broke through the wild crowd, 
cut the cords that bound the man, and bid him be free ! All 
was astonishment and surprise; and though by no means 
pleased at the loss of their prize, yet the young man, their 
favorite, for his daring conduct, was at once esteemed as a 
god by the crowd, and then became a chief of the first dis- 
tinction and honor in the tribe. The mother of Richardville 
now took the man in charge, and soon quietly placing him 
in a canoe and covering him with hides, in charge of some 


friendly Indians he was soon gliding down the placid cur- 
rent of the Maumee, beyond the reach of the turbulent war- 

At a later period in the life of the chief, being on his way 
to Washington, he came to a town in Ohio, where, stopping 
for a little while, a man came up to him, and suddenly recog- 
nized in the stranger the countenance of his benefactor and 
deliverer of years before, threw his arms about the chief's 
neck, and embraced him with all the warmth of filial affec- 
tion. He was indeed the rescued prisoner; and the meeting 
between the two was one of mingled pleasure and surprise, 
and was the occasion of many joyous recurrences to the sin- 
gular meeting and equally singular recognition. 

Pe-che-wah was present and participated in the defeat of 
Harmar, in October, 1790, but was not characteristically war- 
like, being more disposed to exert his executive ability in 
other directions, better calculated to result in the improve- 
ment of his opportunities in after life. 

At the treaty of St. Mary's on the 6th of October, 1818, 
he was there in behalf of his people as the leading chief and 
representative of his tribe, and as such signed the treaty for 
the cession of certain territory to the United States. Twen- 
ty-three years prior to that time, however, he appeared also 
as the representative of his tribe and signed the treaty of 
Greenville, concluded on the 3d of August 1795. The same 
act he performed, on the part of his people, at the treaty of 
Fort Wayne, in June, 1803, and at Vincennes in 1805. 

"About the year 1827," ^^Y^ ^^- Dawson in his notes, 
"$500 were appropriated by Congress to each chief to build 
a residence. Richardville appropriated more, and built a 
substantial house five miles from Fort Wayne, on the south 
bank of the St. Mary's, on one of his reservations." 


For many years he kept an extensive trading house in 
Fort Wayne, and in person lived there most of the time; but 
about 1836 he moved his store to Wabash and continued busi- 
ness there for many years — his wife and younger members of 
his family at all times remaining, till her death, at the home 
on the St. Mary's. His housekeeper at the forks of the Wa- 
bash was Madame Margaret La Folio, a French woman, in 
person graceful and prepossessing. 

In stature Richardville was about five feet ten inches, with 
broad shoulders, and weighed about 180 pounds. His per- 
sonal appearance was attractive, and he was graceful in car- 
riage and manner. Exempt from any expression of levity — 
he is said to have "preserved his dignity under all circum- 
stances." His nose was Roman, his eyes were of a lightish 
blue, and slightly protruding, "his upper lip firmly pressed 
upon his teeth, and the under one slightly projecting." That 
he was an Indian half-breed, there can be no doubt. His 
own statements and unvarying traditions conclusively prove 
that he inherited his position through his mother, by the 
laws of Indian descent, and contradict the theory that he was 
a Frenchman who obtained the chieftainship by trickery or 
purchase. In appearance he was remarkable in this — he was 
neither red nor white, but combined both colors in his skin, 
which was mottled or spotted red and white. His mother 
was a most remarkable Indian woman. Chief Richardville 
was an only son, and much beloved by her. Her reign con- 
tinued for a period of some thirty years prior to the war of 
1812, during which time, according to the traditions of the 
Indians, "she ruled the tribe with a sway, power, and success 
as woman never ruled before." After her reign, "she retired 
and passed the mace of power to her son." 

Richardville was taciturn, and was dignified in manner, a 
habit almost assuming the form of extreme indifference; yet 


such was far from his nature, for he ever exercised the warm- 
est and most attentive regard for all of his people and man- 
kind in general; and "jihey never called in vain; his kind and 
charitable hand was never withheld from the distressed of his 
own people or from the stranger." So wisely did he manage 
the affairs of his tribe, with such wisdom and moderation did 
he adjust and settle all matters relating to his people, that he 
was not only held in the highest estimation by the Indians 
generally throughout the Northwest, but honored and trusted 
as their lawgiver with the most unsuspecting confidence and 
implicit obedience, always adjusting affairs between his own 
people as well as all inter-tribal relations, without resort to 
bloodshed. A patient and attentive listener, prudent and 
deliberate in his action, when once his conclusions were 
formed he rarely had occasion to change them. Averse to 
bloodshed, except against armed resistance, he was ever the 
strong and consistent friend of peace and good will. 

He died at his family residence on the St. Mary's iVugust 
13, 1841, aged about 81 years. He was buried on the follow- 
ing day, after services by Rev. Mr. Clark, Irish Catholic 
priest, of Peru, held at the Church of St. Augustine, at Fort 
Wayne. His body was first interred on the site of the Cathe- 
dral in that city, subsequently erected. Afterward, however, 
when it became necessary to make room for the building, the 
remains were removed, and now rest in the Catholic burying 
ground south of the city. A fine marble monument marks 
the spot, which was erected by his three daughters. La Blonde, 
Sarah and Catharine, on which is the following inscription: 

East side — " Here rest the remains of Chief Richard ville, 
principal chief of the Miami tribe of Indians. He was born 
at Fort Wayne, about the year 1760. Died August, A. D. 


West side — "This monument has been erected by La 
Blonde, Sarah and Catharine, daughters of the deceased." 

Comparatively little is known of the three faithful daugh- 
ters. La Blonde was the mother of a daughter named Mont- 
o-so-qua. vShe married James Godfroy, a son of the celebrated 
chief, Francis Godfroy, who served as war chief under Ricli- 
ardville. They had twelve children. She was born near 
Fort Wayne, in 1835, and died in March, 1885. Mr. Godfroy, 
who was born in 1810, still survives. His family has dwin- 
dled to three members. George L. Godfroy, the youngest 
son, who was born October 2, 1850, received a good educa- 
tion, and resides on the reservation. He is engaged in farm- 
ing, and is a citizen of good standing. He is said to be one 
of the very few Indians in Indiana, or the country, who are 
members of secret societies, and is the highest in Masonry of 
any Indian in Indiana and the world. 

Catharine, whose Indian name was Po-con-go-qua, married 
Francis La Fontaine (To-pe-ah), who succeeded her father as 
civil chief. Of Sarah we know nothing. 

The only son, Joseph, (Wah-pe-mun-waw), was a quarrel- 
some, fighting fellow. He was educated at Detroit, and had 
the accomplishment of violin and flute playing. But not- 
withstanding his education, he was a drunken and worthless 
character, and his reputation was in bad odor. In view of 
"Joe's" degeneracy, his father ever after opposed the educa- 
tion of the Indian as of no value. 

Allen Hamilton, of Fort Wayne, the well known Indian 
agent and intimate acquaintance of Richardville, relates this 
anecdote: One day Mr. Hamilton was riding a very spirited 
horse through the streets of Fort Wayne, and on passing the 
chief's trading house the latter noticed him. In accordance 
with quite a prevalent custom among the Indians of the time, 


when they saw anything that pleased them very much, and 
taking a fancy to the animal, he cried out: " I strike on that 
horse, Mr. Hamilton." Seeing the chief had the advantage 
of him in the "strike," Mr. Hamilton at once alighted and 
handed the horse over to the future care and keeping of the 
chief, who, according to the custom, at once became the bona 
fide owner of the horse. The next "strike" necessarily fell 
to Mr. Hamilton, and he was not long indifferent to the right 
now in his possession. So, some time subsequent to this 
"strike" of the chief, he and Mr. Hamilton were riding to- 
gether along the Wabash, where the chief had several very 
fine reserves of land, one of which, particularly, drew the 
attention of Mr. Hamilton, and he at once exclaimed to Rich- 
ardville: "Chief, I strike on this section." "Well," said 
the chief, " I make you a deed for it, but we'll not strike any 
more!" Mr. Hamilton got the land; and though the chief 
had the first "strike," yet the former certainly had the 
largest. But the matter ended in the greatest good feeling, 

Richardville, who had been granted nine sections of land 
by the government — nearly six thousand acres — became the 
richest Indian, so far as known, in this country. He was a 
shrewd trader and accumulated largely in this line of busi- 
ness. It is said of him that at the time of his death he was 
possessed of about $200,000 in money. And in order to keep 
it secure from thieves he used to bury it in boxes. After his 
death it was found that much of his silver had been buried so 
long that the boxes had commenced to decay, and the silver 
was very much discolored by being in the ground so long. 

The life and character of this Indian statesman has afforded 
a theme for many writers, and poets, too, have invoked the 
aid of the muse to portray in glowing verse his shining qual- 
ities. Less than a year ago Mr. Frank C. Riehl, of Alton, 


Illinois, paid this handsome poetic tribute to the old chief, 
which was published in the Sentinel-Democrat^ of that city, 
August 28, 1890: 

" Beside St. Mary's silver stream, 
Whose laughing waters, all agleam, 
Flow past the city of Fort Wayne, 
Through Indiana's fertile plain. 
There stands within a churchyard gray — 
IvOng since surrendered to decay — 
A weather-beaten shaft of stone. 
With moss and lichens overgrown, 
Upon whose surface may be traced 
These words, by time almost effaced: 

" ' Here rest the bones of Richardville, 
Great chief of the Miami tribe. 
An Indian statesman of great skill, 
Who never gave or took a bribe.' 

"The story of this warrrior's name. 
Although, perchance, unknown to fame, 
Is still remembered and revered 
Upon the plains where he was reared, 
And honored as among the few 
Red men who were upright and true. 
Though now his race has passed away, 
And scarcely, in this latter day, 
Do we take trouble to recall 
The hated people from whose fall 
We date our own prosperity; 
Yet in this chieftain's life we see 
Enough of nobleness to prove 
That he, at least, could feel and love. 

" A hundred years ago or more. 
While yet on Miami's wooded shore 
The swarthy Indian proudly stood 
Supreme as monarch of the wood; 
When first the white man dared to brave 
The wilds beyond Ohio's wave. 
And many a hero lost his life 


Upon the stake or by the knife, 

Beside the peaceful river's wave 

The tribe was met in council grave: 

Some, boasting, showed their battle scars, 

While others plotted future wars. 

But this was not the business j^et 

For which the tribe that day was met; 

'T was matter of a darker feather 

That brought these forest seers together. 

' ' From wigwams swaying in the breeze 
Blue smoke curled, upward through the trees; 
Within the dusky squaws were bent, 
Each at some toilsome task intent. 
While on the stream, to instinct true, 
The urchin plied his fleet canoe. 
Or launched into a tree the dart 
That should have pierced a foeman's heart; 
Thus grouped the savage host, serene. 
Encamped upon the peaceful scene. 

" But slightly from the throng away 
There stood a squaw, with locks of gray, 
And at her side a slender youth, 
Whose eye betrayed a heart of truth, 
A soul with wild ambition fired, 
A mind with lofty thoughts inspired. 
His every look and move confessed 
A nobler lineage than the rest 
Gathered within the camp that day 
To while the loitering hours away. 
The woman was the widowed dame 
Of him, now gone, whose peerless name 
Honored by all the tribe had stood. 
Supreme, the monarch of the wood. 
Her fondest wish and single prayer 

Was that she might outlive the hour 
To see the lad beside her there 

Invested with his father's power. 

' ' But valor was the only rod 

By which these warriors would be ruled; 


In danger's front had they been schooled, 

And they would brook no other god. 

Thus, though they owned the prince's blood. 

Those heroes of a hundred wars, — 

Deep seamed with honored battle scars, — 

Would never bow beneath his will 

Until, b)^ some brave act of skill, 

Or master deed, he should evince 

The prowess of an Indian prince. 

Hence was the tribe together come, 

To choose from out their number one 

To lead their wars and councils sage, 

'Till their young prince should be of age. 

" But hark! above the lazy breeze 

That whispers soft among the trees 

Is heard the sound of many feet. 

As through the forest's still retreat 

A party comes with hurried tramp. 

Dragging a prisoner to camp. 

With hands and feet securely bound. 

The captive sank upon the ground — 

A son of that despised race ! 

Reflected on his handsome face 

The resignation of despair; 

For well he knew no friends were there 

To save him from his awful fate 

The savage zeal to satiate. 

Past was the time of lethargy; 

All danced about in savage glee, 

Anticipating soon to see 

Their victim writhing at the stake, 

Which awful rite alone could slake 

The vengeance of the savage heart. 

Shortly the chiefs communed apart. 

Not long, for in each heart, fore-doomed, 

The verdict was: "To be consumed 

By torture at the burning stake." 

So spake they all; none there to take 

The pale-face part. The dread decree. 

Announced, was hailed with wildest glee. 


"Some hastened to prepare the tree, 
While others for the fagots went 
In frenzied zeal; each soul was bent 
On hastening the fearful rite. 
The prisoner, lying pale and white,' 
Heroically endured the taunts, 
The cruel blows and savage vaunts 
Cast upon him from every side. 
At last he stood, securely tied; 
All was prepared; the lighted brand 
Blazed in the iron warrior's hand. 

" ' Now go, my son, and do thy part,' 
Cried she who all the while apart 
Beside the youth in silence stood; 
' Now go, and prove thy sire's blood 
Runs not for nothing in thy veins! 
Quick! or too late will be thy pains!' 
Then, suddenly, the flames leaped out. 
As round the pile, with savage shout. 
The awful dance of death began. 
When lo! athwart the circle ran, — 
Resistless as a thunder storm, — 
With lightning speed, a slender form; 
Scattered like reeds the burning brands, 
Released the prisoner's feet and hands. 
And placing in his grasp the knife. 
Bade him begone and fly for life, 
Then turning to the astonished band. 
He shouted, with uplifted hand: 

" ' If you must kill, then murder me, 
But let this luckless man go free! 
My father's blood is in these veins, 
And well ye know his soul disdained 
Thus cowardly to take the life 
Of one with whom he had no strife!' 

" Half stupefied, the warriors gazed 
Upon the youth, and saw, amazed. 
Him who had dared this brave relief — 
The son of their departed chief. 


The flash of anger in their eyes 
Gave place to looks of deep surprise. 
Then admiration for his deed 
Secured for him the highest meed 
Which ai. brave warrior could receive. 
Thus, what began an awful rite, 
Ended a feast of proud delight: 
Each warrior in that savage band 
Advanced to kiss the stripling's hand. 
And owned him ruler of the land. 

" Long lived the youth, a warrior brave, 

Beside St. Mary's peaceful wave; 

He drew his bow in many a fight. 

But ever in the cause of right, 

And through his life, until the end, 

He still remained the white man's friend; 

In battle brave, in council skilled, 

He won the name of Richardviile, 

And over Indiana's plains. 

Where erst this noble savage reigned, 

That name is known and honored still. 

In after years, when wars had ceased. 
While signing documents of peace. 
He met the man whose life was saved 
When first his people's wrath he braved; 
'Tis said the men became fast friends. 
And so remained until the end. 
The debt of life was well repaid; 
And when the warrior's bones were laid 
To rest beside their native stream, 
The friend, in token of esteem, 
Raised o'er his dust this shaft of stone. 
And carved the lines you see thereon: 
' Pilgrim, when idly passing here. 

Tread lightly o'er this sacred mound. 
And moist it with a passing tear, 

For know, you tread on sainted ground.' " 

In his death the Miamis lost the greatest chief who ever 
ruled over them, and since that time their decline has been 


marked and rapid. It is fitting, therefore, that his name and 
fame should be perpetuated by a marble shaft reared near the 
place of his birth by the hands of those who loved him best 
in life. 


Pa-lonz-wa, or Francis Godfroy, the last war chief of the 
Miamis, and whose name is closely associated with the history 
of Frances Slocum, because he succeeded her husband, She- 
pan-can-ah, when he retired from the chieftainship, was the 
son of Jacques, or James Godfroy, a French trader among the 
Indians, and was born in March, 1788, near Fort Wayne. He 
and his brother Louis were distinguished men among the Mi- 
amis from early manhood, and took part in the battle of Fort 
Wayne, as well as several other engagements. When the 
Miamis settled on the Wabash, Francis, following the incli- 
nations of his father, established a trading post about four 
miles above Peru, which became a noted point. Being a rep- 
resentative man in his tribe, he naturally wielded great influ- 
ence and commanded much respect. His mother was a Miami 
woman, but the French largely predominated in his char- 

. His trading post, which was named Mount Pleasant, be- 
came a place of much resort and was visited by many eminent 
men of the period. His business was heavy and profitable, 
as he supplied the Indians with large quantities of goods. 
He was a large and handsome man, standing about six feet 
in height and weighing over 300 pounds. He was genial, 
generous and dignified; sincere in his friendship, paternal in 
his rule and princely in his hospitality. 

About 1822 he brought a carpenter from Fort Wayne, who 


built him a house of hewn logs. It was regarded as a won- 
derful improvement at that time, and was a great attraction 
among the Indians. 

The first wife of Francis Godfroy, and her sister, the wife 
of White Wolf, were daughters of a white man named Cole, 
who, when a child, was captured by the Indians in Kentucky, 
and grew up with them. He then married a Miami woman 
and raised several children. Godfroy' s wife was named Sac- 
a-qua-tah, and she died February 28, 1869, aged 74 years, and 
is buried by his side. Her sister, Elizabeth, who married 
White Wolf, died December 7, 1871, aged 85 years. Gabriel 
Godfroy, one of the sons of Sac-a-qua-tah, has tried to trace 
the ancestry of his mother's father, but without success. It 
is a singular circumstance that his maternal grandfather was 
a white man, and that he (Godfroy) should marry a grand- 
daughter of Frances Slocum, a white woman. Here is an- 
other singular instance of the peculiar blending of American 
French-Indian blood. 

The eldest son, James R. Godfroy, lives near Fort Wayne, 
and is a farmer. He married Mon-to-so-qua, daughter of La- 
Blonde, the daughter of John Baptiste Richardville, (Pe-che- 
wah,) the famous civil chief of the Miamis, who was the leader 
at the treaty of 1838. She was born near Fort Wayne in 
1835, and died in March, 1885, leaving twelve children. 

Francis Godfroy, by virtue of his standing and influence 
among the Miamis, was granted some six sections of land at 
the treaty of 1838, and he acquired one or two more by pur- 
chase. This princely estate was sufficient to have made all 
his heirs very wealthy, if it had been fairly administered. 
One section is embraced in the southern part of the city of 
Peru, and is composed of the rich alluvial soil found along 
the Wabash. "Out of that fine tract of land," said one of 



his sons to the writer, " my mother and her children only re- 
alized one thousand dollars!" It is worth more than half a 
million to-day. 

There were five sons and four daughters in the family of 
Francis Godfroy, viz: James R. , William, George Washing- 
ton, Thomas, Gabriel', Louisa, Sarah, Frances and Clemence. 
He died May, 1840, in the 53d year of his age, and was buried 
in the cemetery situated on the hillside a few hundred yards 
in front of his residence. His death was greatly deplored by 
his numerous relatives and friends, and there was much sor- 
row and mourning over his loss. His funeral was one of the 
notable events of the day, and was attended by hundreds of 
Indians and whites, who came to testify their respect for the 
deceased. The principal address was delivered by Wa-pa- 
pin-sha, a noted Indian orator of that tribe. Translated, it 
is as follows: 

" Brothers, the Great Spirit has taken to Himself another 
of our once powerful and happy, but now declining, nation. 
The time has been when these forests were densely populated 
by the red men, but the same hand whose blighting touch 
withered the majestic frame before us, and caused the noble 
spirit by which it was animated to seek another home, has 
dealt in a like manner with his and our fathers; in like man- 
ner will he deal with us. Death, of late, has been common 
among us. So much so that a recurrence of it scarcely elicits 
our notice. But when the brave, the generous and patriotic 
are blasted by it, then it is the tears of sorrow freely flow. 
Such is now the case. 

"Our brother, who has just left us, was brave, generous and 
patriotic, and as a tribute to his merit and reward for his 
goodness the tears, not only of his own people, but of many 
white men, who are here assembled to witness his funeral 


rites, freely flow. At this scene the poor of his people weep' 
because at his table they were wont to feast and rejoice. The 
weak mourn his death because his authority was ever directed 
to their protection. But he has left the earth — the place of 
vexation and contention — and is now participating with Po- 
cahontas and Logan in those joys prepared by the Great Spirit 
for such as well and faithfully discharge their duties here. 
Brothers, let us emulate his example and practice his vir- 

In after years his sons erected a handsome marble monu- 
ment as a testimonial of respect for their father, and it looms 
up conspicuously on the hillside to-day. On one of the pan- 
els appears this inscription: 

Chief Francis Godfroy, 
' Natus, March, 1788. 

Obit, May i, 1840. 

On the other side is the following, deeply chiseled in the 
white marble: 

"Late Principal Chief of the Miami Nation of Indians. 
Distinguished for courage, humanity, benevolence and honor, 
he lived in his native forests an illustration of the nobleness 
of his race, enjoying the confidence of his tribe and beloved 
by his American neighbors. He died as he lived — without 
fear or reproach." 

Chief Godfroy, inasmuch as he had acquired a large 
amount of personal property, and was the owner of several 
thousands of acres of land, was thoughtful enough to make 
a will for its distribution among his heirs, and as it is a curi- 
ous document, as well as appropriate to the pages of this his- 
tory, it is given herewith in full: 

" I, Francis Godfroy, a Miami Indian, of the County of Miami, 
Indiana, being desirous to settle and dispose of my worldly affairs. 


while in a sound mind, memory and understanding, do publish 
and declare this as my last will and testament: 

" First: I desire my body to be decently interred at the discre- 
tion of my executors hereinafter named. 

" Secondly: It is my will and I hereby bequeath to my beloved 
son James R. Godfroy, one section of land, to include my mill on 
the creek below Peru, commonly called Little Pipe Creek. 

" Thirdly: I will and bequeath to my beloved son William God- 
froy, one section of land lying on the Mississinewa River, being 
the section of land granted to 0-san-di-ah, at the treaty between 
the United States and the Miami Indians of 1838, which I pur- 
chased of the said O-san-di-ah. 

"Fourthly: I give and bequeath to my beloved son George 
Washington, the section of land lying opposite the town of Peru 
on the Wabash, being the same on which Peter Gibanet now 

"Fifthly: I will and bequeath to my dearly beloved sons 
Thomas Godfroy and Gabriel Godfroy, as tenants in common, 
three-fourths of the section lying above and adjoining the town of 
Peru, which three-fourths of a section so bequeathed as aforesaid, 
is a part of the section granted to me adjoining the town of Peru, 
at the treaty between the United States and the Miami Indians, 
of October of 1834. 

" Sixthly: For purposes of educating my son Gabriel, I hereby 
will and bequeath to him in addition to my former bequest, the 
one-quarter section of land lying opposite my house, being the 
same purchased of John B. Richardville. 

"Seventhly: I will and bequeath unto my two wives, or the 
mothers of my children, Sack-a-che-qua and Sac-kah-qua-tah, and 
my beloved children, my eldest unmarried daughter Louisa, to my 
daughter Sally, to mj^ daughter Frances, to my daughter Clem- 
ence, the four sections of land and improvements where I now 
live, during the lifetime of my said wives, to be decided in case of 
dispute by my executors, during the lives of my wives, then two 
of the four sections of land, aforesaid, to include the houses and 
improvements, I will and bequeath to ray said daughters, Louisa, 
Sally, Frances and Clemence, as tenants in common, and to their 
heirs lorever. 

" The remaining two of the four sections aforesaid I will and 


bequeath to all my children and their heirs or assigns, as well as 
those who are devisees to this will, as also, Poqua, and the wife of 
Gudboo, to be equally divided among them all. 

" Eighthly: It is my will, that after the personal property which 
I may be possessed of at the time of my death, should be ex- 
hausted, that my executors or the survivor of them, or the person 
who may administer on my estate, shall sell so much of my real 
estate as he or they may deem necessary for the payment of my 
debts, the same to be sold for prices as he or they may deem rea- 
sonable, such real estate to be sold, to be such as is not devised in- 
dividually to any member of my family. 

" Ninthly: I will and bequeath such property as I may die pos- 
sessed of, both real and personal, not heretofore disposed of, after 
my debts are paid, to be equally divided among all my children, 
share and share alike. 

"Tenthly: All the property devised to all the devisees in this 
my last will is hereby bequeathed to them, their heirs and as- 
signs forever. 

" lyastly: I hereby constitute and appoint Allen Hamilton and 
John B. Richardville, of the County of Allen, to be the sole exec- 
utors of this my last will and testament. In case of the death of 
either of them, the other to be sole executor, or in case one fails 
to serve, then the other to be the executor. In testimony whereof, 
I have hereunto set my hand and seal, the twenty-sixth day of 
February, eighteen hundred and forty. 

" FRANCIS (his X mark) GODFROY. [Seal.] 

"Signed, sealed, published, declared, by the testator, as and 
for his last will and testament, executed in the presence of the 
undersigned, who signed the same as witnesses, in the presence of 
each other, and in the presence of the testator, subscribed their 
names as such witnesses at the request of said testator, 26tli Feb- 
ruary, 1840. 



"B. H. SCOTT, 


Codicil to This My last Will and Testament.— It is my further will and 
desire and I hereby order and direct, that in the event of the titles being 
contested to the several tracts of land purchased by me of Wa-pa-pin-che- 


ail, Squirrel and 0-san-de-ah, or either of them, that the executors acting 
under my will, or my administrator, employ James Raridon, Esq., to advo- 
cate my claims thereto, and that for his services, if successful in establishing 
said claims, that my executors or administrators allow him for such services 
one-half section of the said lands, to be surveyed from either of said sec- 
tions which the said Raridon may designate. It is my further will and 
desire, and I hereby order and direct, that my executors or administrators 
do immediately after my decease, give to my wife Sack-kah-qua-te, the sum 
of one thousand dollars in specie, the remainder in her possession to be ex- 
pended under her direction for the maintenance and support of my infant 
children. I do further will and direct that my executor or administrator lay 
off within three months after my decease, on the quarter section of land 
immediately joining the town of Peru, town lots and streets in continuation 
and corresponding in size and width with the lots and streets in Peru, ex- 
cepting only that portion of said quarter section near the sand hill, suitable 
for tannery sites, for which purpose I desire that it should be laid off in lots 
of two acres each ; that every fourth of the town lots and tannery sites be 
reserved and titles for the same forthwith executed to my son James God- 
frey, and the remaining three-fourths of each description of said lots to be 
sold at public auction, to the highest bidder, on the following conditions, to 
wit : One-third of the purchase money to be paid at the expiration of six 
months from the day of sale, the remainder in two equal payments, at the 
expiration of twelve and eighteen months from the day of sale ; and I here- 
by authorize and empower my said executor or administrator, when full 
payment is made by the purchasers, to make, seal and deliver deeds for the 
conveyance of said lots to the purchasers, their heirs or assigns, hereby 
vesting him with full power and authority to act in the premises as fully to 
every intent and purpose as I myself could do if living. The proceeds of 
the sales of the aforesaid lots I hereby direct my said executor or adminis- 
trator to apply to the discharge of my just debts, and in the event of there 
being thereafter a surplus, that the same be by my said executors invested 
in bank stock, and the annual interest thereon be applied to the discharge 
of the taxes on my estate. FRANCIS (his X mark) GODFROY. 

"It is my further will and desire and I hereby give and be- 
queath to my son James R. Godfroy, my two yoke of work cattle 
and wagon; the remainder of my horses and cattle of everj^ de- 
scription, I desire should be divided equally among my several 
children under the direction of my executor. 

" It is my further will and desire and I hereby order and direct, 
that my executor or administrator continue my cousin, Edward A. 
Godfroy, in his employ to aid in settling my estate, and to collect 
the debts due to my trading establishment, near the present resi- 
dence of my family on the Wabash River. That he be permitted 
to dispose of my stock of merchandise at private sale, on terms 


most favorable to the interest of my heirs, and to furnish from 
time to time to my family, from said stock, such articles as their 
necessities may require, rendering an account thereof to my exec- 
utor, to be allowed him on the final settlement of my estate; and 
it is my will and desire and I hereby order and direct, that my ex- 
ecutor, or administrator, pay to said Edward A. Godfrey, at the 
rate of eight hundred dollars per annum for his services, payable 
quarterh' from the date of his first employment in my service, to 
wit: from the sixth day of September, one thousand eight hun- 
dred and thirty-nine. 

" I further desire and direct that my executors, or administra- 
tors, do at the next treaty, use all proper influence to obtain for 
my family from the government of the United States, one section 
of land for each of my children; and the same privileges in regard 
to the payment of their annuities, and those of my w4fe, as are 
now granted to Chief Richardville. 

" In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and seal 
to this codicil, to wit: my hand to the bottom of the first side of 
this sheet, and my hand and seal to this the last side of this sheet, 
this first day of May, in the 3'ear of our I^ord, one thousand eight 
hundred and fort}- . 

" FRANCIS (his X mark) GODFROY. [Seal.] 

"Signed, sealed, published and declared by the testator, Fran- 
cis Godfro5% as a codicil to his last will and testament, in the pres- 
ence of us, who have subscribed our names as witnesses in the 
presence of the said testator, and in the presence of each other. 




"I, Benjamin H. Scott, Clerk of the Probate Court of the 
County of Miami, in the State of Indiana, do certify the annexed 
to be a true copy of the last will and testament of Francis God- 
frey, late of the said County, deceased, and that Allen Hamilton, 
one of the executors therein named, has duly proved the same ac- 
cording to law, and is duly authorized to take upon himself the 
administration of the estate of the said testator according to the 
said will. 

" Witness my hand and the adopted seal of the said court, the 


sixteenth day of May, in the year of our Lord, one thousand 
eight hundred and forty. 

"[Seal.] B. H. SCOTT, Clerk. 

"Transcript of will, recorded April 8th, 1854, i^ Deed Record 
' G,' on pages 687, 688, etc. 

"Probate Court, Miami County, Indiana, May i8th, 1844. 
Probate Order Book ' A,' page 43." 

Many anecdotes are related of Francis Godfrey, one in 
particular of which is worth recording, as it shows the liberal- 
ity of the man. He was reckless and careless of money, and 
having more land than he knew what to do wnth, he scattered 
his favors with a prodigal hand. It is told of him that being 
on one occasion at La Fayette when a steamboat arrived there 
from the Ohio, he offered the captain a half section of land 
if he would convey him and his party to their homes, some 
three miles above where Peru now stands. The offer was ac- 
cepted and the trip made, but the steamer was lost on its re- 
turn to La Fayette. Godfrey made a deed of the promised 
half section of land, and sent it to the captain of the boat. 
It was difficult to navigate the Wabash so far up, and it was 
only the smallest class of boats that could ascend that distance 
at the highest stage of Avater. And the loss of the steamer 
on its return shows the peril of making such a voyage. 

Butler was the name of the township in which Chief God- 
frey lived and died. His trading post was a famous place in 
early times and it is one of the landmarks of the township 
to-day. One of the log buildings is still standing and is now 
occupied as a dwelling by one of the sons of Gabriel Godfrey, 
who is the owner. The Chief lived in the style of a baron 
of feudal times, and kept a large retinue of his people con- 
stantly around him. 

A very pretty legend showing how he came to be selected 
as war chief is still preserved. There was a very bad Indian 


in the tribe known as Ma-jen-i-ca. He was a drinking, quar- 
relsome man, and frequently killed those who displeased him. 
Being the chief of a village he was greatly feared. Once 
upon a time, as the story runs, he was in a boisterous condi- 
tion at a council, which was being held on the hill just above 
where the Godfroy cemetery is now located. Francis God- 
froy, then a young man, was present. From some remark he 
incurred the displeasure of Ma-jen-i-ca, who commanded him 
to sit down, telling him that he was no man. Young God- 
froy resented the insult and told him he was no man — that he 
was a coward — that he should desist from stabbing and killing 
his own people for trivial causes. These remarks greatly ex- 
cited Ma-jen-i-ca, and drawing his knife he rushed on God- 
froy. The latter being brave and powerful, quickly seized 
his assailant by the wrist and held his arm firmly. Then he 
drew his own knife and told him the braver way would be to 
fight him a duel. Still holding him by the arm he com- 
manded him to look upon yonder sun for the last time if he 
proposed to fight. If not intending to fight, and if he was a 
brave man, he would drop his knife. Godfroy stood firm and 
ready to fight, and being a giant in strength, caused his assail- 
ant, through his determined look, to quail. Finally the big 
chief dropped his knife and yielded to the superior will power 
of Godfroy. This act of bravery resulted in the latter being 
made war chief when She-pan-can-ah, the husband of Fran- 
ces Slocum, resigned his position. 

William, one of the sons of Francis, lives on a farm which 
he inherited from his father. George Washington, when only 
fourteen years of age, was killed by lightning in May, 1841, 
while sitting on his horse, with several others, in the road in 
front of the trading post. There was scarcely a cloud in the 
sky when the bolt descended. His death caused a profound 


sensation at the time, and was regarded with superstitious awe 
by the Miamis. A large boulder, now lying on the roadside, 
is pointed out to show near where he sat when death came so 
suddenly from the sky. 

Gabriel Godfroy, now in his 57th year, resides on a splen- 
did farm containing 220 acres, lying in the forks of the Wa- 
bash and Mississinewa Rivers. It is looked upon as one of 
the best farms in the State, on account of its beautiful location 
and richness of the soil. There is really not a foot of land in 
the whole 220 acres which is not tillable. Mr. Godfroy's res- 
idence, a modern two story brick house, with a fine lawn, 
faces the Mississinewa. His barns and outbuildings are am- 
ple, and he carries on farming on a large scale, as he owns 
other lands not embraced in this tract. Mr. Godfroy has been 
married three times. His present wife, whose name was 
Martha Jane Logan, claims a distant relationship with the 
late General Logan, of civil war fame. Gabriel Godfroy is 
very popular among his acquaintances, and is noted for his 
liberal and princely hospitality. He is widely known, and is 
visited by many strangers, on account of being the son of the 
last war chief of the Miamis, and the husband of a grand- 
daughter of Frances Slocum. As shown in Chapter XL, he 
owns many relics which once belonged to Frances Slocum, 
the "white woman," and his distinguished father. Among 
the latter are a coat and war bonnet, a fine ceremonial toma- 
hawk, with a pipe in the poll, and the handle ornamented 
with inlaid silver bands and designs, and a number of silver 
medals. One of the medals is oval shaped, measuring six 
inches by five. On one side are the words "George Wash- 
ington, President, 1793," and a medallion representing an 
Indian holding the pipe of peace to a colonist, while a toma- 
hawk is carelessly thrown aside. In the background is seen 


a pioneer at the plow. On the reverse is seen the coat of arms 
of the United States. This medal was presented to the Wy- 
andotte tribe by Washington, and afterwards by the Wyan- 
dotte chieftain to William Pe-cong-a, a Miami. An offer of 
$500 has been refused for this rare medal. 

There are three other silver medals in the collection, circu- 
lar in form, and two and one-half inches in diameter. On the 
obverse side they bear a pipe and tomahawk crossed ; on the 
reverse, two hands clasped, with the motto: "Peace and 
Friendship. A. Jackson, President, 1829." These medals 
were given Francis Godfroy and two minor chiefs by Presi- 
dent Jackson in 1829, ^^^^ o^^^ of them bears the portrait of 
"Old Hickory" in relief They are rare and valued relics, 
and Mr. Godfroy sets great store by them. 

The vast landed estate left by Chief Godfroy has dwindled 
away until comparatively little of it remains. Many of the 
heirs having long since disposed of their shares, the lands 
are now in the hands of strangers. 


Rev. Peter Bondy, who was the last husband of O-zah- 
wah-shing-qna, still survives. He spends a portion of the 
time with his children on the old homestead, and the balance 
with relatives in Grant County. He remained single several 
years after the death of O-zah-wah-shing-qua, when he took 
for his second wife a sister of Gabriel Godfroy. There has 
been no issue by this marriage. 

Mr. Bondy is of French-Indian origin. His father, An- 
toine Bondie, was a French trader, holding forth near Fort 
Wayne. He had lived among the Indians since he was twelve 
years of age, and was recognized by the Miamis as one of their 


tribe. He is said to have been an extraordinary character. 
At one time he would appear to be brave and generous, at 
another meanly selfish. About the time the siege of Fort 
Wayne was contemplated by the Indians and British, Bon- 
die,* who was at his trading post, was secretly informed of 
what was proposed, and advised to leave. He straightway 
communicated his information to the commanding officer, 
but the latter discredited him. He moved into the fort with 
his family, when the siege was soon after commenced, but 
ultimately failed. 

Peter Bondy was born on Eel River, a few miles north of 
Fort Wayne, July, 1817. His mother, he says, was a Mo- 
hican woman. He grew to manhood among the Indians of 
that section, and about 1840 was adopted by the Miamis. 
According to the custom of the tribe, upon the death or loss 
of children, another was adopted to supply the place made 
vacant by what means soever. The circumstances giving 
rise to the ceremony about to be described, says Helm in his 
history of Wabash County, were in substance as follows: 
" Al-lo-lah, the Black Raccoon, without a child or children 
of his own, married a squaw, who was the mother of a son, 
the issue of a former marriage. According to the usage of 
the tribe, a man marrying an Indian woman with a child or 
children, accepted and recognized the latter as his own, and 
they became members of his family, entitled to all the rights 
and privileges of his own offspring. In the course of time 
this son and heir came to his death by violence, leaving him 
childless. A proper time having elapsed after the happen- 
ing of that event, a selection was made for a substitute, who, 
when he had passed through the prescribed formula, should 
supply the place of the dead one. Peter Bondie, or as he 

*See Valley of the Upper Maumee, Vol. 1, p. 134. 



was known and called by the Indians, Gradeway Bundy, was 
the person so selected and upon whom the mantle of sonship 
was to fall, as the custom authorized and prescribed. 

"When it had been determined by the chief to consum- 
mate the selection, he gave notice of his purpose to the head 
men of the tribe in the vicinity, declaring the time when the 
ceremony would take place. Having done so, preparations 
began to be made on an extensive scale. A beef from the 
woods was killed, weighing 1,800 pounds. After being dress- 
ed, the meat was cut into large pieces, then put into great 
kettles and thoroughly boiled. Afterward, the meat was cut 
into small pieces and piled on blankets spread upon the 
ground for the purpose, preparatory to the coming feast. 

"At the appointed hour, a distant rumbling noise was heard 
in every direction, as of many horses in rapid flight, and not 
unlike the mutterings of far off thunder. The sounds grew 
nearer and nearer, becoming momentarily more distinct. Fi- 
nally about the hour of 10 o'clock at night a fierce yell re- 
sounded from every point of the compass, when, as if they 
had come by previous concert, Indians on horseback dashed 
in, meeting at a designated spot. 

" Soon after these arrivals were announced, a suitable pla- 
teau was selected and the festival inaugurated by the com- 
mencement of a grand dance, at a late hour in the evening. 
First two young squaws entered the ring caparisoned for the 
dance. Then came two young braves who at once joined in 
the movement, when two other squaws came forward, dancing 
after their style. The dance was continued, the number of 
participants increasing from time to time, by two squaws join- 
ing in followed by two braves, as in the beginning, during 
the night. Meanwhile, a council of the head men of the 
tribe was in progress in the wigwam of the chief, Al-lo-lah, 


and at short intervals messengers were sent to inform the 
dancers of the progress made in the proceedings. These an- 
nouncements were usually accompanied by an eloquent speech 
from the bearer of the tidings, greeted by acclamations of 
satisfaction and approval. At length, the final announcement 
was made, declaring as the decision of the council, upon ma- 
ture deliberation, that the proposed adoption had been satis- 
factorily consummated. This announcement, especially, was 
made with a solemn flourish, and received with extraordinary 
demonstrations of joyous satisfaction by two of the festive 
throng. While these things were in progress, and whenever 
the demands of appetite made it necessary, the enhungered 
ones repaired to the commissariat where the bounteous supply 
of pieces of beef had been piled away on the blankets, and 
partook to their satisfaction of the luscious viands. 

" The adoption ceremonies being completed, the company 
filed off and departed for their several homes, well satisfied 
with what had taken place. And ever afterwards Peter Bondy 
was acknowledged as the son and heir of the chief Al-lo- 

This strange Indian ceremony is said to have taken place 
in 1840, and a prominent white settler named Jacob D. Cas- 
satt, first sheriff" of the county, and afterwards a member of 
the Legislature, weighed the beef when it was killed. 

Under the pious ministrations of Rev. George R. Slocum 
Mr. Bondy became a convert to the doctrines of the Baptist 
Church, and for many years he has been a consistent and ac- 
tive member. He informed the writer that for twenty-six 
years he had labored as a missionary among his people, and, 
notwithstanding there was much evil to combat, he felt that 
his labors had not been in vain. His name appears as a 
trustee of the Antioch Missionary Baptist Church, of Waltz 


Township, Wabash County. He is pions and devout, and in 
his intercourse with his people, sets them a good example. 
He speaks broken English with a strong French accent, and 
upon important topics he prefers to converse through an in- 
terpreter. At table, before partaking, he asks a blessing in 
the Miami tongue, which, judging from the softness and 
beauty of the language, and the intonation of the words, is 
eloquent and impressive. 

In personal appearance, Mr. Bondy is dignified and com- 
manding. He stands nearly six feet in height, and weighs 
240 pounds. His countenance is indicative of mildness and 
benignity; his intellectual powers are good, and he is a pleas- 
ant companion. In his actions and conversation it is evident 
that the Indian character predominates, notwithstanding his 
long association with the whites. Like his brother-in-law, 
Gabriel Godfrov, he can neither read nor write. 


It is learned from the history of Wabash County that 
Francis La Fontaine, whose Indian name was To-pe-ah, was 
the immediate successor of Richardville as the principal chief 
of the Miamis. He was a lineal descendant of the family of 
this name who figured so conspicuously in the political affairs 
of Canada in the latter part of the eighteenth century. His 
father was of French extraction, and was at one time a resi- 
dent of Detroit, and his mother was a Miami woman. He 
was born near Fort Wayne in 1820, and spent the greater 
part of his life in the immediate vicinity. In his younger 
days he was noted for his great strength and activity, and 
was considered the most fleet of foot of any man in his tribe. 

At the age of about twenty-one Francis La Fontaine mar- 


ried Catharine, ( Pa-con-go-quah ) the second daughter of 
Richardville. For some time after his marriage his residence 
was on the prairie, between Huntington and Fort Wayne, on 
lands granted to him at the treaty of 1838. Manifesting 
great interest in the welfare of his tribe, he became very pop- 
ular, and, after the death of Chief Richardville, he was se- 
lected principal chief of the Miamis. 

When the Miamis moved west in 1846 he accompanied 
them to their new reservation and spent the first winter with 
them. The following spring he started homeward. At that 
time the route of travel was from Kansas Landing (now Kan- 
sas City) down the Missouri and Mississippi to the mouth of 
the Ohio, then up the latter to the mouth of the Wabash, 
and thence up that river to La Fayette — all the way by 
steamboat. At St. Louis he was taken sick, and his disease 
had made such progress that upon his arrival at La Fayette 
he was unable to proceed further, and died there on the 13th 
of April, 1847, 3.t the age of thirty-seven years. 

He was embalmed at La Fayette, and his remains were 
brought to Huntington, where he was buried in the grounds 
now occupied by the Catholic Church. His body was subse- 
quently removed to the new cemetery. 

. Francis La Fontaine is described as a tall, robust and cor- 
pulent man, weighing usually 350 pounds, and generally 
dressed in Indian costume. There are two oil paintings of 
him in existence. He left seven children. Less than two 
years after his death his widow married F. D. Lasselle, of Fort 
Wayne, but lived only a short time. 

John La Fontaine, the last son of this historic family, and 
a grandson of the chief, died at Huntington in December, 
1889. His mother died when he was about five years old, 
and he was placed in the care of Col. I. N. Milligan, but be- 


ing deeply imbued with the traditions of his race, a roving 
disposition seized him, and he joined the remnant of his tribe 
in Kansas. He soon tired of their romantic life and returned 
to Huntington. His ancestors at one time owned all the 
land in that section, but he died a poor man. So ends the 
name of La Fontaine. 


As the name of George Winter frequently occurs in this 
work in connection with Indian paintings, a short sketch of 
his life is not out of place. Hon. Horace P. Biddle, of Lo- 
gansport, who knew him well, writes: 

"George Winter was born on the island of Portsea, in 
the town of Portsea, in the county of Hants, in England, in 
the year 1810. He was sent to school when quite a child, 
and received a general course of English education under 
English teachers. It does not appear that he was ever a 
graduate of any university or college. He early exhibited a 
taste for the fine arts; was encouraged and instructed by local 
artists; went to London where he was entered a student in 
the Royal Academy, and where he remained' during four 
years. He also had the entry to the National Gallery and 
other public institutions. In 1830 he came to America. In 
New York he became a student in the Academy of Design, 
where he remained several years. From there he went to. 
Cincinnati, where he sojourned but a short time. In the year 
1837 he came to Logansport, Indiana, where he resided until 
1850, when he removed to La Fayette, Indiana. In 1873 ^'^^ 
1874, Mr. Winter visited California and the Pacific Slope, 
where he executed many valuable paintings. He returned 


to La Fayette, which place remained his home until he died, 
February i, 1876. 

" Mr. Winter was an English gentleman of a higher type 
than those who merely repose on the virtues of their ances- 
tors. x'Vs a man, he possessed a nice sense of honor and integ- 
rity, and made these principles practical throughout his life. 
Socially he stood very high with all who knew him. He was 
a gentleman under all circumstances, with a ready and agree- 
able wit, a genial and engaging humor, and an equable and 
chastened temper. As an artist Mr. Winter ranked high — 
particularly in landscape and Indian pieces. In water color 
sketches and miniature he also excelled. His portrait of Chief 
Godfroy seemed to be Godfroy himself; and that of the young 
Chief Aub-e-naw-be was an admirable specimen of art in 
portraiture. He also painted, besides the excellent portrait of 
Frances Slocum, several young Indian maidens who were 
very beautiful. Indeed, he painted before he left England a 
battle piece which became very celebrated. In America, par- 
ticularly in the great Northwest, Mr. Winter became widely 
known as an artist of high repute. Many of his paintings 
were engraved for the magazines of the time. 

"In 1840 Mr. Winter married Mary Squiers, the daughter 
of Timothy Squiers, the proprietor of a line of coaches from 
Dayton, Ohio, westward. They were blessed with an only 
son and an only daughter, both of whom, with the mother, 
survive the husband and father. The son — George Winter, 
resides in California; the daughter — Mrs. Nettie W. Ball, and 
the mother, still have their homes in La Fayette, where they 
enjoy the respect of a large circle of friends." 

As Judge Biddle has referred to the success of Mr. Winter 
in painting Indian portraits, and a battle piece in England, 
it may not be out of place to speak of his views of the battle 


ground of Tippecanoe, and for this purpose his own words 
are used. In an autograph letter* to Mr. E. Campbell, editor 
of The Spirit of the Thnes^ Cincinnati, under date of Logans- 
port, January i, 1841, Mr. Winter says: 

"The paintings that I have nearly completed are six in 
number. Two of them measure 152 square feet each, and 
the other four comprehend an equal surface. I chose such 
views that would best convey an idea of the ground and sur- 
rounding romantic country. One view is taken from the La- 
Fayette road, which represents the point near Barnet's Creek 
where the subtle savage tomahawked the sentinel. I then 
followed the road (which passes through the whole of the 
ground upon which the remarkable battle was fought) and 
took my station about 60 feet from the fence, or southwestern 
gateway of the enclosure, and known as Spencer's line. 
From this point you get nearly in perspective with the whole 
surface upon which the gallant army encamped. 

"You now stand upon an elevation of seventeen feet from 
the surface of the prairie on either side. The prairie to the 
right is called the marsh — it extends before you as far nearly 
as the eye can see; it is skirted by oak openings, and at a 
point projecting, as it were, upon the prairie the wily Prophet 
sat during the conflict of battle chanting and propitiating the 
power of the Great Spirit. 

"Another view I took from the Log Cabin which was 
erected at the convention in May [1840] last. This compre- 
hends a view of the interior of the enclosure, (about forty 

* Through the courtesy of Dr..Lyman C. Draper, of the Wisconsin His- 
torical Society, the author was placed in possession of this letter, as well 
as another bearing date, " Logansport, Ind., September 21, 1888." Both are 
written in a neat, compact, plain hand, and each one covers four pages of 
foolscap, barely leaving room enough for the address, when folded, as no 
envelopes were in use in those days. The latter is principally devoted to 
literary topics and is of no interest to the public. 


acres.) It assumes a park-like appearance — the timber' not 
being crowded. The sun now and then throws in his bright 
rays, which give a cheerful and pleasing effect, and the mind 
being enraptured with so lovely a spot, is robbed almost of 
the belief that it is associated with human blood. 

" I have not space to enter into a detail now of the scenes 
I have spoken of; and the others I can merely say are views 
of the graves of those who slumber on the field of Tippeca- 
noe, and some trees from which Davis was trying to dislodge 
some Indians when he fell. I have a view, too, of Prophet's 

"Although I have been defeated in getting these views 
before the public eye at the time when political excitement 
ran high, yet I have often indulged in the consoling hopes 
that Harrison would be elected, and that an interest would 
still be felt for a peep at the ground on which such conflict- 
ing opinions have been expressed. I think if I could get 
these pictures to Cincinnati some time before the General sets 
out for the White House, that the feelings of ' fellow citi- 
zens ' will be warmed up again, and it would be a favorable 
time to exhibit them. I have also thought that it would be 
a propitious time, too, either at the inauguration, or during 
the spring, to exhibit them at Washington." 

It is not known whether Mr. Winter succeeded in his 
plans, or what disposition was finally made of these paint- 


George Winter, the artist, devoted much attention to lit- 
erature as a pastime, and he contributed many sketches of 
the country, and Indian character, to the press while he lived 
at Logansport. It is understood that he left voluminous un- 


published notes, which are supposed to be in the hands of his 
widow at La Fayette. In a description of an Indian burial 
ground near Logansport, he says: 

"No doubt but what this depository of the aboriginal 
dead was mostly confined to the Indians who died at the vil- 
lage of Ke-na-pa-cum-qua, which stood on the north bank 
of Eel River, some six miles above the confluence with the 
Wabash. 'Charley's Reserve' is known as being in the vicin- 
ity of this old village. Many of the older citizens are famil- 
iar with the beautiful view that could be seen from Reed's 
old log cabin on the northern bank, near the Peru road. The 
scene that thus presented itself to the eye included the old 
site of the village of Ke-na-pa-cum-qua. The Miami burial 
ground near Logansport, contained the remains of the re- 
nowned chief and warrior, No-ka-me-nah, or as he was more 
familiarly called. Captain Flowers. The graves were gener- 
ally covered with bark. The chief's loomed up above all 
others of lesser consequence. It was rudely constructed of 
logs, within which was placed a pine box, or che-pe-em-kak, 
protecting the remains. The chief's rifle, tin cup, powder 
horn, and other relics were deposited so that the spirit might 
carry along with it in its flight the chosen earthly objects to 
the beautiful world of the future hunting grounds. There 
are no signs now to indicate the burial ground. I remember 
well when the same spot yielded to the ploughshare. It 
proved a rich soil, but it seemed strange to see the beautiful 
tassel of the corn thrown out where, but a few years ago, 
there was a breathing of sanctity upon the lowly graves. 
When the ploughshare ran deep into the graves the — 

" Brown skulls, in spite of ugly death, 

On the grasss grinned merrily. 
You could hear men's rotting and crumbling bones 

Rattle together with unctuous glee. 


For they mocked the sighs and scoffed at the moans 
Of silly and frail humanity." 

" It was a painfnl fact, of which no doubt existed, that the 
body of No-ka-me-nah did not rest long after burial, in peace- 
ful repose. It was a good rifle they consigned to the grave 
with the chief, but the enterprising Christian man had soon 
possession of it, and many a deer has fallen since at its sharp 
crack, and the venison sold for fifty cents per saddle, proving 
satisfactorily that the violations of a red man's grave was a 
pecuniary gain! 

" But why should we underrate moral acts ? Stealing from 
an Indian grave is, after all, but a white man's 'smart trick' 
of trade!" 


Page loo, first line in Chapter heading, for "oldest" 
daughter read eldest. 

Page 159, last line of text, for "four" years read five. 

Page 162, eighteenth line, for "niece" read granddaugh- 

Page 162, foot note, for "Memorial" read Manual. 

Page 164, eleventh line, for " newphew " read nephew. 


Following is a list of the authorities consulted in the prepa- 
ration of the Biography of Frances Slocum: 

London'' s hidiaii Narratives. 

Two Volumes. By Archibald Loudon. Carlisle, from the Press of A. 
Loudon, 1808. 

A Sketch of the History of Wyoming . 

To which is added an Appendix containinji a Statistical Account of the 
Valley and Adjacent Country, by a Gentleman of Wilkes-Barre. By 
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The Poetry and History of Wyoming.^ 

Containing Campbell's Gertrude, w-ith a Biographical Sketch of tlie 
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The Lost Sister of Wyoming. 

An Authentic Narrative. By Rev. John Todd. Northampton, Pa., J. 
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History of Wyoming^ 

In a series of letters from Charles Miner, to His Son, William Penn 
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The Pictorial Field Book of the Revolution. 

Two Volume.?. By Benson J. Lo.ssing, LL. D. New York, Harper & 
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Annals of Luzerne. 

A Record of Events, Traditions and Anecdotes, from the First Settle- 
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Wyoming : 

Its History, Stirring Incidents and Romantic Adventures. By George 
Peck, D. D. New York, Harper & Brothers, 1860. 

The Valley of Wyotning ; 

The Romance of its History and its Poetry. By a native of the Valley. 
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History of the Lackawanna Valley. 

By H. Hollister, M. D., Scranton. PhiUidelphia, J. B. Lippincott k Com- 
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The Wyoming Valley\ Upper Waters of the Susquehanna^ and 
the Lackawanna Coal Region. 
By J. A. Clark, Scranton, Pa., iuiblished by the author, 1875. 

Wyoming Me?noriaL 

A Record of the One Hundredth Year Commemorative Observance of 
the Battle and Massacre. Edited by Wesley Johnson, Esq., Secretary 
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Frances Slocum^ the Lost Sister. 

A Poem. By Caleb Earl Wright. Robert Baur & Son, Wilkes-Barre, 
Pa., 1889. 

Historical Sketches 0/ Plymouth., Luzerne County., Pa. 

By Hendrick B. Wright. Philadelphia, T. B. Peterson & Brother, 1873. 
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A Syllabus of the Controversy Betvi'een Connecticut and Pennsylvania. 

Read before the Historical Society of Pennsylvania. By Gov. Henry 

M. Hoyt. Harrisburg, Lane S. Hart, 1879. 

Historical Collections of the State of Pennsylvania. 

Its History and Antiquities. By Sherman Day. Philadelphia, George 
W. Gorton, 1843. 

Early Times on the Susquehanna. 

By Mrs. George A. Perkins. Binghumton, Malette & Reed, 1870. 
An Lllustrated History of Pennsylvania. 

Civil, Political and Military, including Historical Descriptions of each 

County in the State. By William H. Egle, M. D., State Librarian. 

Harrisburg, De Witt C. Goodrich & Co., 1876. 

The Aboriginal Races of North America. 

Origin, Antiquities, Manners and Customs. By Samuel G. Drake. 
New York, Hurst & Co., 1880. 

Magazine of American History. 

New York. Edited by Mrs. Martha J. Lamb, July, 1890. 

Harpers'' Monthly Magazine. 

New York, Harper & Brothers, August, 1858. 

History of Cass County^ Lndiana. 

By Thomas B. Helm. Chicago, Kingman Brothers, 1878. 

History of Fort Wayne., 

From the Earliest Known Accounts. By Wallace A. Brice. Fort Wayne, 
Indiana, D. W. Jones & Son, 1868. 

History of Wabash County., Lndiana. 

By Thomas B. Helm. Chicago, John Morris, 1884. 


Valley of the Upper Maumee River^ 

With Historical Accounts of Allen County and the City of Fort Wayne, 
Indiana. The Story of its Profrress from Sarairery to Civilization. Two 
Volumes. Madi.son, Wis., Brant & Fuller, 188!). 

History of Miami County^ Indiana. 

Its Early Settlement and Progress. Chicago, 1888. 

History of Lancaster County.^ Pennsylvania.^ 

With Biographical Sketches of Many of its Pioneers and Prominent 
Men. By Ellis & Evans. Philadelphia, Everts & Peck, 1883. 

A History of Indiana., 

From its Earliest Exploration by Europeans to 18o(). By John B. Dil- 
lon. Indianapolis, Bingham & Dougherty, 1859. 

Pennsylvania Magazine of History and BiograpJiy. 

No. 1, Vol. III. Edited by John AV. Jordan. Philadelphia, 1879. 

History of the Slociims., Slociimbs and Slocombs of America. 
Genealogical and Biographical. By Charles Elihu Slocum, M. D., Ph. D., 
Defiance, Ohio. Published by the author, 1882. 


Its Hi.story from the First Settlement until 1779. By Rev. David Craft. 
Towanda, 1870. 

History of Bradford County., Pennsylvania. 

By Rev. David Craft. L. H. Everts & Co., Philadelphia, 1878. 

General Sullivan'' s Expedition Against the Six Nations 0/ 
India7is in lyjg. 

By Frederick Cook, Secretary of State, N. Y. Auburn, Knap, Peck & 
Thompson, 1887. 

Frances Slocum., the Indiaii Captive. 

Pamphlet by James Slocum. Brownsville, Pa., 1878. 

Histojy of the Girtys^ 

Thomas, Simon, James and George. By Consul Willshire Butterfield. 
Cincinnati, Robert Clarke & Co., 1890. 

Historical Record. 

A Monthly Publication Devoted Principally to the Early History of 
Wyoming and Contiguous Territory. Edited by F. C. John.son, M. D. 
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Journal of Captain William Trent., 

From Logstown to Pickawillany, A. 1). ll'Yl, with an Historical Sketch 
of the Miami Ctmfederacy. Edited by Alfred T. Goodman. Cincinuati, 
Robert Clarke & Company, 1871. 


Beautiful Wyoming. 

A Poem for the Celebration of the Hundredth Anniversary of the Bat- 
tle, Massacre and Flight; 1778, July 3, 1878. By Henry Coppee. Phila- 
delphia, Claxton, Remsen & Hatiellinger, 1878. 

Annals of the West. 

A Concise Account of Principal Events which have Occurred in the 
Western States and Territories to the year 1856. By James R. Albach. 
Pittsburgh, W. S. Haven, 1857. 

History of Luzerne.^ Lackaivanna and Wyoming Counties^ 


With Illustrations and Biographical Sketches. New York, W. W. Mun- 

sell & Co., 1880. 
Families of the Wyomirtg Valley. 

Biographical, Genealogical and Historical. Sketches of the Bench and 

Bar of Luzerne County, Pa. By George B. Kulp. In three Volumes. 

Wilkes-Barre, 1885— '89-'90., 

A Manual of Gold and Silver Coins of All Nations., 

Struck Within the past Century. By Jacob R. Eckfeldt & William E. 
DuBois. Philadelijhia, 1851. 


Ashley, near Wilkes-Barre, 74. 

Athens, Pa., 75. 

A-taw-a-taw, 80. 

Annals, Western, quoted, 80. 

Algonquin, 82. 

Abouette, river of, 86. 

Adams, Hon. John Quincy, 130. 

Avres, Mrs. Marv S., painting owned 
by, 160. 

Appendix, beginning of, 191. 

Aquenockque, Chief, 199. 

Battle of Wyoming, 7, 8. 

Butler, Col., 8. 

Bowman, Rev. Samuel, sketch of, 42. 

Brouillette, J. B., as a Farmer, 56; 
where born, 70, 72; his promise, 121; 
his residence, 144 ; grief of, 147 ; his 
second marriage, 141 ; death of, 164 ; 
his history, 164; tombstone record, 
165 ; tribute to his character by Win- 
ter, 165, 16«), 167, 168, 169; his father, 
note, 169; the Slocum deatlibed 
scene, 170. 

Brownsville, Canada, 77, 78. 

Bennett, Geo. S., 81; paintings owned 
by, 159 ; recollections of the artist, 
note, 159. 160. 

Bennett, Ziha, 100. 

Bennett, Mrs. Hannah,, Tournal of, 101 ; 
at Rocliester, 103 ; Niagara Falls, 104 ; 
arrival at Sandusky, 106; Maumee 
Bay, 107; at Peru, 109; meets her 
aunt, 109, 110; description of her, 
110; the return; 113; at Indianapo- 
lis, 114 ; impressions of Cincinnati, 
115; extortionate boat fares, 115; 
reaches Wheeling, 116; visit to Ca- 
diz, 116; ofl' for Pittsburg, 116; arri- 
val at Hollidaysburg, 117; over the 
Portage Railroad, 117; reaches home, 
118; her death, 118. 

Bidlack, Hon. Benjamin A., speech of, 
129 ; note, 129. 

Bondy, Peter, what he says of Frances, 
136; relics, 155 ; sketch of, 223; place 
of birth, 224; strange Indian dance, 
225 ; personal appearance, 227. 

Belgian coin, by whom owned, 161, 

Bondv, Judson C, 173. 

Bondy, Jane, 174; her will, 177, 178, 
179; 180, 181, 182. 

Brouillette, Eliza, 180. 

Bondy, Mabel Ray, youngest descend- 
ant" of Frances, I80, 186. 

Brouillette, Nancy, 186. 

Bondy, Judson C, 186. 

Biddle, Hon. Horace P., his recollec- 
tions, 191 ; sketch of, note, 191 ; set- 
tles at Logansport, 194. 

Black Hawk, 193. 

Bearss, Hon. Daniel R., 194 ; ditticulty 
with Ewing, 195. 

Burial Ground, Indian, 232. 

Campbell's Ledge, 7. 

Craft, Rev., quoted, 75. 

Chemung River, 76. 

Christian Indians, massacre of, 80. 

Cass, Lewis, 83. 

Canal, Erie, 84. 

Cole, Alphonso A., letter of, 127, 128. 

Congress, promjjt action of, 132. 

Cross once owned by Frances, 157. 

Coin, Belgian, description of, 161, 162; 
by whom once owned, 162. 

Curious family relation, 173. 

Court, Miami Circuit, 194. 

Chicago in 183(), 194. 

Cincinnati, Biddle admitted, 194. 

Dioga, where located, 25. 

Dickson, Mrs. Mary, 41, 42. 

Deaf Man's Village, 50; married to 

him, 67. 
j Detroit River, when living there, 66. 

Dillon, quoted, 82. 
I Douglass, John T., sub-agent, 91. 

Duret, J. B., 91. 

Descendants, table of, 185. 

Ewing, Col. George, discovers Frances, 
36; his letter, 39; reply to Jon. J. 
Slocam, 44, 45; what he told Col. 
Wright, 58, 59 ; character of, 194, 195. 

Evans & Ellis, quoted, 42; sketch of 
postmasters, note, 41. j 

Eel River, encamped on, 68, 83 ; unites 
with the Wabash, 113. j 


Forney, John W. 42. 

Fulwiler, James B., visits Frances, 49; 
sketch of, note, 49; grief of the Slo- | 
cums, 52 ; location of hotel, note, 62. '• 

Falls, Niagara, 77 ; Indian path, 152. ! 

Fontaine, Francis La, sketch of, 227 ; 

death of, 228 ; last of the family, 228. 

G I 

Godfrey, Francis, chief, 50; his ap- 1 
pearance, 50; advice to Frances, 54, I 
81 ; land grants, 92 ; money paid to, 
99 ; relics of Frances, 156 ; painting 
of, 196; anecdote of, 19S; sketch of, 
212; his wife and family, 213, 214; 
address at his funeial, '214; monu- 
ment, 215 ; his will, 216, 217, 218, 219 ; 
anecdote of, 220; how he won the 
chieftainship, 221. 

Geiu'ssec, 77. 

Godf'ioy, ( Jaliricl, 222; his medals and 
relics, 22_' ; his tine farm, 222. 

Gddfroy, Geo. Washington, killed by 
lightning, 221. 


Harmar, defeat of, 67. 

Harrison, Fort, 70. 

Harrison, General, 82. 

Huntington, where situated, 85; by 
whom laid out, 86. 

Hamilton, Allen, secretarv, 91, 98 ; an- 
ecdote, 206. 

House on the hill, 184. 

Hawk, Black, 193. 

Intelligencer, Lancaster. 41, 42. 

Indianapolis, arrival at, 114. 

Johnson, Hon. Cave, presents Slocum 
resolution, 129. 

Johnstown, N. Y., 76. 

Judson, Captain, anecdote of, 198. 

Kingsley, Nathan, killed, 13. 

Kingsley, Wareham, note, 14. 

Kingsley, Nathan, note, 13. 

Ke-ki-onga, returns to, 67, 82. 

Ke-ke-se-qua, 71 ; granted land, 97 ; 
death of, 142 ; spelling of her name, 
note, 142 ; her marriages, 142, 143. 

Kin-o-zach-wa, 162. 

Keokuk, Chief, 193. 

Latitude of Wilkes-Barre, note, 6. 

Lackawanna, valley of, 7. 

Ledge, Campbell's, 7, 75. 

Lancaster, postmasters of, 41. 

Little Turtle, Chief, note, 67. 

Laurel Run, 74. 

Logansport, 83, where located, 113; 
Biddle arrives at, 195. 

Lasselle, H., 91. 

Lewis, Mrs. Harriet E., 100 ; accompa- 
nies her sister west, 101 ; recollec- 
tions of the visit, 118, 119, 120. 

Lossing, Benson J., 196. 

La Fontaine, Francis, 205. 

Miller, James T., Interpreter, 47, 55, 
5(), 109. 

:Mississinewa, 49, 50, 80, 153. 

.Met-a-cin-vah, 80. 

INIa-con-a-qua, 82. 

Miami tribe, 82; names of, 82; No. 
of, 97 ; last treaty with, 97 ; remnant 
of, 123 ; flight of, 132 ; more exemp- 
tions, 144; confederacy of, 186, 187. 

Metosina, old, 97; history of 98. 

:\Iih(.y, Suiiiu(4, 98. 

jMiauii Couutv, when formed, 122. 

]\IiaiMispoit, 122. 

Mingia, what it means, 150. 

Maconuili, meaning of, 150. 

]\Iuri)hy, I\Irs. L. G., 149. 

Niagara, note, 66, 

Niagara, Fort, wliere located, 76. 

0-zah-wah-shing-qua, 71; land grant, 93; 
no painting of, 161 ; number of hus- 
bands and children, 171, 172, 173; 
death of 177; touibstone record, 174; 
her aiipcarance, note, 174, 175; hal»its 
and uuiiiners, 175; jiatent for land, 
176; her will, 178 to 183. 

0-san-diah, 79, 93. 

Osage village, 80. 


Prospect Rock, 6. 

Proctor, Col. Thomas, 25 ; his mission, 
26; meets Giles Slocum, 26; also 

meets Frances, 27; sketch of Proc- 
tor, note, 28, 77. 

Peru, citizens of 63; city of 110; first 
name, 122, 192. 

Piqua, Plains of, 70, 80. 

Pepper, Abel ('., Commissioner, 85. 

Pratt, Daniel D., Secretary, 91. 

Pottawatamies, home of the, 97. 

Pe-che-wa, 96; sketch of, 199. 

Phelps, Mrs. M. B., paintings owned 
by, 160. 

Pocongoqua, 205. 


Rock, Prospect, 6. 

River, Eel, 78. 

River, Miami, 79. 

Ray, James B., Commissioner, 83. 

Reservation, Great, 84; ceded, 86. 

Richardville, John B., mentioned in | 
treaty of 1838, 90 ; land grants, 92, I 
95, 96, 97 ; how he became chief, 98 ; 
money paid to. 99; anecdotes of, 197; 
sketch of, 199, 200, 201, 202, 203, 204, 
205, 206; poetic tribute to, 207, 208, 
209, 210, 211. I 

Relics, collection of, 155. i 


Susquehanna, 7. 

Slocum, Jonathan, place of birtli, 9 ; 
settles at AVyoming, 9; death of, 19; 
place (if linrial, .'!1. 

Slocum, Ruth, -rief of, 15, 16, 17; vis- 
its Tio-a, 24; death of, 24. 

Slocum, family, 10, 11, 12, 183, 189. 

Slocum, Giles, escape of, 12; meets Col. 
Proctor, 26 ; visits Niagara, 29. 

Slocum, Mary, saves Joseph, 13. 

Slocum, Ebenezer, released, 15. 

Slocum, William, wounded, 20; visits 
Niagara, 29. | 

Slocum, Isaac, journey through Can- 
ada, 29 ; offers a reward for Frances, 
30 ; what Indian agents said, 30 ; 
starts for Peru 47 ; meets Frances, 
48 ; mention of, 100 ; loss of his wife, 
106 ; surrenders his son to Frances, 
146; sends his son to Frances, 15:',. 

Slocum, Joseph, visits the Wvandot 
Mission, 34; receives Ewing's letter, 
43 ; starts for Ohio, 47 ; arrives at Pe- 
ru, 49 ; meets Frances, 51 ; what she , 
said, 52 ; return from, 73 ; last visit, I 
100; bids his sister farewell, 121. 

Salomie River, 84. 

Slocum, Frances, date of birtli, 11 ; cap- 
ture, 13 ; seen at Niagara, note, 20 ; 
recorded at Johnstown as Hookam 
child," 23; discovered byEwing, 39, 

40; meets her brothers and sister, 
51, 52 ; identitied, 52 ; remembers 
her name on liearing it, 53; consults 
Godfroy, 54; visits Peru, 62; pledge 
of friendship, 62; remarkable meet- 
ing, 63, 64, 65; stor}- of capture, 64 ; 
meets Tuck Horse, 65 ; her wander- 
ings, 66, 67, 68; first Indian name, 
66; how she looked, 72; romantic 
incident, 79; massacre of Cliristian 
Indians, 80; becomes a Miami, 82; 
important notice of, 97; wants Jo- 
seph to live with her, 121 ; petitions 
Congress, 125; names of her de- 
scendants, 126 ; pleased over action 
of Congress, 132; pestered by bad 
neight)Mi>, l.">5; her new house, 136; 
her (leatli, l.'w; burial, 139; funeral 
sermon, 140; the cemetery, 140; her 
character, 141 ; 2)eculiarity of her 
hair, 142 ; monument to be built, 141; 
death of her daughter, 142; sees her 
father searching for her, 151, 152; 
sends for her nephew, 153; adopts 
him, 153; her cross, illustrated, 157; 
painting of, 159; what slie tdld Gen. 
Tipton, 171 ; table of descendants, 
185 ; youngest descendant, 185; close 
of her history, 186, 187, 189; her 
case alluded to, 196; what she said, 
196; Indians and white men, 196. 

Slocum House, where it stood, note, 39. 

Sentiment, expression of, 57, 184. 

Slocum, Jon. J., letter of, 44. 

Spe-pan-can-ah, 67, 79 ; described, 81 ; 
his village, 81. 

Sandusky, visit to, 66, 77. 

Schermerhorn, Mrs. E. L., poem, 69. 

Slocum, Harriet, accompanies father 
and sister on a visit to Frances, 101 ; 
her recollections, 118, 119, 120. 

Slocum, residence, where located in 
Indiana, 122. 

Sample Hon.S. C, letter of, 127 ; knew 
Brouillette, 169. 

Slocum, Rev. Geo. R., 145 ; his death 
and obituary, 145, 146, 147, 148 ; at 
Reserve, 149. 

Slocum, Elizabeth, death of, note, 145. 

Slocum, Charles E., 149. 

Slocum, Eliza O., lier account of Fran- ' 
ces, 150. 

Slocum, Mary Cordelia, place of birth, 
149; what Frances told her, 150; 
what she is called, 150. 

Tripi), Isaac, 10, death of 19; his his- 
tory, 19. 

Tripp, Isaac, Jr., captured, note, 20. 
Tioga, where it is located, 24 ; original 

name of, 25, 74, 75. 
Towne, Mrs. Mary, 47 ; visits Peru, 49; 

meets Frances, 52 ; meets her again, 

56 : the last visit, 100. 
Tippecanoe, battle of, 68, 84 ; paint- 
ings of, 231. 
Terre Haute, 70. 
Towanda, 75. 
Tuck Horse, 77. 
Turtle, Little, 78. 
Tribe, Miami, 82, 186, 187. 
Treaty, first held, 82; at St. Mary's, 83; 

at Paradise Springs, 83; pavments, 

83 ; last treaty, 186, 187. 
Tipton, John, Commissioner, 83. 
Tippecanoe River, 84. 
Treaty of 1838, 85; where held, 85; 

money paid, 86 ; last of, 99 ; of 1840, 

Territory, The Indian, 133. 
Taylor, Z., President, signs patent, 177. 

Valley, Wyoming, location of the, 6. 
Villages, Indian, 96. 
Wyoming, meaning of, 5. 

Wilkes-Barre, latitude of, note, 6. 
Wyoming Monument, note, 8. 
White Woman, 37, 63, 96, 171. 
Wright, Col.Hendrick B., letter of, 57. 
White Rose of Miami, poem, 69. 
Wyalusing, 75. 

Wayne, Fort, Indian name of, 67 ; ar- 
rival at, 78. 
Wabash River, 83; receives Eel River, 

Weas, history of the, note. 111, 112. 
Wheeling, arrival at, 116. 
Winter, George, 121 ; paintings bv, 159, 

160, 161 ; sketch of, 229. 
Wabash County, when formed, 122. 
White, Hon. A. S., note, 127 ; presents 

report in the Senate, 131 ; resolution 

passes, 132. 
AV right, Caleb Earl, poem, 138. 
Waltz Township, after wliom named, 

Wilson, John, Land Commissioner, 

Wabash, deed recorded at, 178. 

Youngest descendant of Frances Slo- 
cum. 185, 186. 


In some respects there has been ahnost as much difficulty 
encountered in gathering information relating to the history 
of Frances Slocum as was experienced by her brothers who 
sought to find her after her capture, with the difference, how- 
ever, that their search was continued through many long and 
weary years. This seems to be a part of the mystery which 
has always surrounded her case. In collecting data for this 
work it was believed that if Mrs. Eliza O. Slocum, the widow 
of George R. , could be found, she would be able to furnish val- 
uable information, on account of her association with the old 
lady and her daughters. x\fter a long search she was located 
at Sioux City, Iowa, where she was living with a daughter, 
Mrs. Eliza J. Ford, and a series of questions were prepared 
by Dr. Charles E. Slocum, of Defiance, Ohio, and forwarded 
to her. Not hearing from her for a long time, the matter 
was finally dropped, the book closed, the printing completed 
and the sheets sent to the binder. But, fortunately, before 
fifty copies were bound, she was heard from. She had been 
severely ill for some time, but realizing the importance of 
the interrogations, she dictated the following information to 
her daughter, which is deemed of sufficient importance to 
be printed in supplemental form and added to those copies 
which have not been bound: 


"My father was at the fort. [Wilkes-Barre]. I heard a 
gun go off and I ran and hid under the stairs. Three big In- 
dians came to the door and took up my brother Ebenezer. 
His foot was lame; a cart had run over it. My mother went 
to the door to tell them he was lame; took up both his feet 
and showed them. I was afraid my mother was going away, 
so I came out and ran to my mother. The Indians saw me, 
and pushing my brother toward mother, took me. My hair 


fell over m.y face. I took my hand and brushed it away, and 
saw my mother for the last time. They took me down a deep 
ravine a long way, when we came to a cave and went in. I 
saw my father through a little hole hunting me. I was go- 
ing to scream, when an Indian held a big knife over me and 
looking cross, said, 'me kill, me kill.' That was the last 
time I saw my father. 

"At night the Indians waded in the water down the creek 
a long distance, when they came to their horses. We rode 
all night and came to an Indian camp. A little boy and I 
were given to two Indians, and we started one way — the rest 
of the Indians went another way. They had nine captives 
with them. We went north and crossed under the big water. 
[Niagara Falls]. The big water went boom, boom, x^fter a 
while we came to an Indian camp. I don't know anything 
about the boy — don't know what became of hinh They took 
me to an old man and his wife, and they always took care of 
me. One day, when I was twenty-one years old, there was 
a big stir in camp; the old man and his wife took me and got 
in a boat in a great hurry, and we went a long way, when we 
came to another camp. The old man then gave me to the 
chief, and then I took care of my own wigwam." 

"When Frances gave this account of her capture," says 
Mrs. Slocum, "her daughters were present and interpreted 
for her." 


"At one time I was at their house, when 0-zah-wah-shing- 
qua, or Mrs. Bondy, as we called her, and we were alone, I 
asked her to tell me of her mother's marriages, as I had heard 
she was married twice. She said: 'The first time she was 
married she was not happy.' I asked her how they got mar- 
ried. She replied: 'Frances' father said to him, [first hus- 
band], 'You love him squaw?' He said, 'Yes.' The father 
replied, 'Well, take him, and no 'buse him.' Mrs. Bondy 
continued, ' After a while he 'buse him, and he [she] came 
home, but her husband came and made good promises to treat 
her well. She tried again, but he was abusive. She left him 


again, came back, and they drove him away, and she never 
saw him again.' 

"The second marriage,' said Mrs. Bondy, 'came about as 
follows: Frances, her father and mother, started down the 
river. Before they reached Fort Wayne they passed an In- 
dian battle ground. The dead were lying oh every side. 
They heard groans, when they stopped, and in the brush they 
found a chief of the Miamis wounded. They took him in 
their boat and went about twelve miles below Fort Wayne. 
It was late in the fall. They nursed him until he recovered 
from his wound, but he was lame. At one time they were 
out of food, when the young chief walked to Fort Wayne to 
obtain something. He was gone four days, when they saw 
him afar off returning. Frances went out and met him. He 
was much wearied and quite sick. Through gratitude for 
what he had done for them, Frances' Indian father gave her 
to him in the early spring. They then went down the Wa- 
bash River and joined his tribe at the Osage village. This 
was She-pah-can-a, or the Deaf Man.' 

" Mrs. Bondy once dressed me in Frances' best dress, with 
beaded moccasins and leggins, a fine felt blanket wrapped 
around me as a shirt, which was so completely covered with 
scarlet and green silk ribbon an inch wide, and sewed to- 
gether so closely you could see no felt on the right side; a 
short gown of navy blue, with extra cape covered all over 
with silver bangles, a sash of scarlet four yards long with 
white tasssels at the ends. My head was crowned with a 
wreath of black ostrich feathers with silver broaches on the 
front. The back feathers were very long. 

"Mrs. E. O. SLOCUM." 

valuable information. 

Following are the answers of Mrs. E. O. Slocuni to ques- 
tions submitted to her by Dr. Charles E. Slocum: 

"What was the duration of Frances' last sickness?" 
" Less than a week." 


" What doctor did she have, and would she take his med- 
icine ?" 

" She died forty-two 3'ears ago the 6th* of next March. 
[1891.] There was no white doctor on the Reserve at that 
time. The Indians used their system or treatment. She 
would not have taken white folks' medicine if there had been 
a doctor." 

"What was her sickness, and the cause of her death?" 

" Pneumonia. The Indians had been having a thankofifer- 
ing. They cooked a deer whole for the Great Spirit and put 
it on a table. They sat around it and sang, but did not eat. 
They sang all night and she caught cold." 

"What minister preached her funeral sermon?" 

"Joseph Davis, an exhorter. There was no minister with- 
in reach at the time. It was not the custom for the Indians 
to bury their dead in a. coffin at that time; but they were 
given to understand that she was a white woman and should 
be buried according to the custom of white people. A coffin 
was then obtained, but it was found to be one foot too long. 
They then put a little brass kettle, a cream pitcher and other 
things in the vacant space at her feet." 

" Did you see her every day ?" 

"Yes; we lived near." 

" Did you spend much time in visiting her?" 

"Yes; either myself or husband were there most of the 

"Were you very intimate with her?" 

"Yes; she thought a great deal of us. Of course, we 
spoke different languages." 

"Did she retain any of her mother's teachings? If so, 
give examples." 

"I think so. vShe kept her house very much better than 
the native Indians. And her lessons of cleanliness to her 
girls were souiething to wonder at. Both she aud her daugh- 
ters were very neat with their needles. In neatness and order 
she and family were far above the native Indians." 

* All other accounts agree in fixing the date of her death on March 9th. 


" Did she use any English words ? If so, to what extent ?" 

" Yes; she and I were sitting alone one evening, and I be- 
came anxions about Mr. Slocum's return from payment [an- 
nuity] when she said: 'Pretty soon George come; moon 
shine." These are the only words I ever heard her say; but 
I think she could understand." 

" Did she show much interest in her white relatives?" 

"Yes; for those whom she knew she seemed to think a 
great deal of." 

" Did she at any time show any of the Indian's distrust of 
the white man in her intercourse with her wliite relatives? 
If so, give examples." 

"No; she had her interpreter write two letters to her 
brother Isaac to come out on business. He came, when she 
said her business with him was to ask him to give his son 
George to her to care for her property, and be her son. She 
said she would make him an equal heir with her two girls. 

" Isaac said, ' George is my youngest son, the one I have 
picked out to live with me and care for my interest in mv old 
age.' Frances replied, 'You know I was taken away when 
I was little, and had no care from my people, while you had 
a father and mother's care, and all the property. And you 
have other sons to care for you, and I have no sons and a large 
property to look after. Now, give me George to be my son 
and I will make him equal heir with my two girls.' 

"Isaac said, 'George is married and has a family, and I 
don't know whether he will be willing to come; but if he is 
willing I will give my consent.' 

" When Isaac started home she gave him a very nice pony, 
saddle and bridle, a pair of new moccasins nicely beaded, and 
a lot of dried venison. That was in June. When he reached 
home he did not tell George, but advised him to go in the 
fall to attend the land sales. 

"Frances told him of the adoption and had him stay till 
after the annuities were paid, when she divided the money 
equally between her girls and George. When he started for 
home she gave him some kind of presents as she gave his 


father, which made the adoption legal according to the tribal 
laws — she knew no other law. 

"George finally decided to come and look after her affairs. 
He bought eighty acres of land in January, and moved his 
family out in November following. He gathered her ponies 
together — about lOO head — and disposed of them for her, and 
attended the payment to receive her annuity. Frances died 
the 6th of March, 1847. George staid on his farm, two miles 
away, and cared for their interest until his death [January, 
i860,] without any further recompense." 

" Did she show much interest in your children ? If so, in 
what manner?" 

"Yes; she used to love to hold the baby, [now Mrs. L. 
G. Murphy of Xenia, Indiana,] and wished it given her In- 
dian and white name — Frances — Ma-con-a-qua. But she was 
already named Mary Cordelia. Frances' daughter [0-zah- 
wah-shing-qua] always called her mother, and the grand- 
children call her grandmother to this day." 

" Did she have the Indian's love for bright colors?" 

"No; I never saw anything bright or gay, either in her 
clothing or house." 

" Was she at times very talkative and sociable?" 

"Yes; she at one time told me about her captivity, but 
she was not unusually sociable." 

" Was she easily offended ?" 


" Did she hold offense long, or was she quick to forgive 
and make up friends?" 

"I never saw an exhibition of temper. She was always 
pleasant. ' ' 

"Was she revengeful? If so, give examples." 


" Was she ever violent in her temper ?" 


" Was she ever sulky and morose ? If so, did these moods 
last long?" 


" Did she use tobacco? If so, in what way ?" 


"No, no, no!" 

"Did she use whiskey? If so, to what extent and regu- 

"No, indeed; never!" 

" Did she ever show any desire to follow the ways of white 
women? If so, give examples." 

" I was the only white woman there at that time. Fran- 
ces used to come to my house and watch me work. Her 
daughter and she used to admire my quilts and other things 
about the house." 

"Did she get any idea of the teachings of Christianity? 
If so, to what extent?" 

"George used to read the Bible to her and talk with her. 
She paid strict attention to all he said. I cannot tell how 
much she understood his teachings She did not live long 
after we moved there." 

" Did she show much lasting interest in the efforts of her 
white friends to improve her mental and moral condition ? 
If so, give examples." 

"Yes; it seemed so, at least to all appearance." 

"Was your husband a Missionary, appointed by the Bap- 
tist church ?" 

" No; he was only a good, honest minded Christian man; 
a member of the Missionary Baptist Church — a deacon." 

"Did he teach them to read and write?" 


" Did he learn their language?" 


"Did he speak to them in their language, or through an 

"First through an interpreter; soon in their own lan- 

" Did Frances attend his meetings?" 

" He went to their house to teach them; Frances was 

" Did your husband receive his support froih the church ?" 

" No, never." 


" Did Prances make a will before her death at any time?" 

"Yes; I was there at the time her eldest daughter was 
sick. Frances was talking to the younger one, [0-zali-wah- 
shing-qua]. I understood the names — 'a saddle,' 'horses,' 
'hogs,' 'land,' &c. She was talking of them, and she men-' 
tioned George's name — my husband. I went home and told 
George that he had better go and see what his aunt wished to 
tell him. He went, but she seemed too tired to talk. He 
asked 0-zah-wah-shing-quaif he should not get an interpreter. 
She an.swered, 'No, she has told me all, and I will tell you.' 
That was 4 o'clock p. m., and she died at 11 o'clock that 
night. O-zah-wah-shing-qiia proved treacherous to her moth- 
er's trust, and never told what was imparted to her, thereby 
showing her Indian nature; consequently none of us ever re- 
ceived any recompense for our }ears of labor and self-sacrifice 
in their behalf." 

"Did she express any feelings abont death, or have any 
theory concerning it?" 

"No; none at all; her mind seemed calm, which showed 
that she was prepared for the change." 

E. O. S. 
Sioux City, Iowa, Dec. i, 1790. 


The careful reader will note on page 11 that the time of 
her death is given as occurring in 1849, instead of 1847. This 
was caused by confounding the proper date with that given 
by Mrs. Eliza O. Slocum. In two or three other places her 
age is inadvertently given at the time of capture as four years 
and seven months, when it should be five years and seven 
months. She was born in Rhode Island, March, 1773, and 
carried into captivity Nov. 2, 1778, and died March 9, 1847. 

Dr. Slocum, the genealogist, truly says that her case is 
"the most remarkable and interesting of individual captivi- 
ties. Her considerate treatment through a long life is one of 
the brightest and most creditable paragraphs in the story of 
the North American Indians." 




This revised standard work makes a heavy volume of 702 i^aiies, not in- 
cluding the index, and brings the history of tlie Valley down from the first 
appearance of the whites at Shamokin, in 1728, to the close of 1799, and 
the beginning of 1800. Copies of the Indian deeds, conveying the Susque- 
hanna lands to the Penns, are given, together with full accounts of the in- 
vasions and thrilling massacres that afterwards occurred. The startling 
scenes of the Big Runaway in 1778 are portrayed, and accounts given of 
many prisoners in captivity. The building of Fort Augusta, in 1756, by 
Colonel Clapham,is described, and the famous daily journal of Colonel Burd, 
while stationed there for nearly a year, is given. The charming journal of 
Rev. Fithian, who made a visit to the valley in the summer of 1775, is 
printed in full. A full description of the famous Fair Play System is printed, 
together with a more exhaustive history of the celebrated Brady family 
than ever before given. The work has been entirely re-written and a large 
amount of new material introduced, making it practically a new book, and 
double the value of the original work of 18.56. There are fifty illustrations 
of Indian antiquities, plans of manors, forts, old buildings, &c., together 
with three maps — one of the Valley, showing the course of the river, the 
streams emptying into it, the islands, and the places where the forts were 
located and where many of the pioneers settled. There are also fine por- 
traits of Covenhoven and Van Campen, the celebrated scouts and Indian 
killers, together with the war implements they carried at that time. The 
annotations and citations of authorities are copious, and form a valuable 
feature of the work. 

Only a few copies of the limited edition on hand. Price, elegantly bound 
in half morocco, $5 ; cloth, $.3.50. No agents employed and no books on sale 
in stores. For copies apply to the author. Address, 


Willi AMSPORT, Pa. 

The Historical Journal. 


The Historical Journal, originally published in magazine form, is a com- 
pact volume of 400 pages, illustrated, and contains a great variety of local 
articles. The private journal of Samuel Maclay, kept while engaged with 
Timothy Matlack and John Adlum in surveying the West Branch of the 


Susquehanna, Sinneniahoning, Allegheny and other streams, in 1790, with 
the view of establishing water communication with Lake Erie, is printed in 
full for the first time. It is a curious and interesting document. A full bi- 
ography of Rev. John Bryson, pastor of Warrior Run Church for fifty years, 
together with a history of the Presbytery of Northumberland, are given 
for the first time. These articles are exceedingly interesting and of great 
value. Price, handsomely bound in half morocco, §3; cloth, $2.25. No 
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This is the first exhaustive history of the captivity, life, sufferings and 
death of Frances Slocum ever published. Captured by Indians Nov. 2, 1778, 
from her father's house, which stood on the site of the present city of Wilkes- 
Barre, she was lost to her parents, brothers and sisters for fifty years, not- 
withstanding they kept up a vigilant search for her almost to the period of 
her discovery, when she was found, in 1837, living in a cabin on the Missis- 
sinewa River, Indiana, as the widow of a Miami Indian chief. 

The book contains 250 royal octavo pages, is printed on fine heavy paper, 
illustrated with beautifully executed portraits of the captive, her eldest 
daughter, two sons-in-law, and youngest living descendant, and several other 
members of her family. Among the official documents given in full are a 
copy of the treaty of 1838 with the Miamis, the famous petition of Frances 
to Congress in 1845, the eloquent speech of Mr. Bidlack in her behalf, and 
the elaborate will of her youngest daughter in 1873, disposing of her large 
estate of 686 acres. 

Hon. Horace P. Biddle, the eminent retired jurist of Logansport, Ind., 
contributes a chaiJter of recollections of Frances Slocum and prominent 
early settlers. And in the appendix are found very full biographical 
sketches of the famous chiefs w^ho ruled the Miamis for fifty years, includ- 
ing one of George Winter, who painted her portrait in 1837. 

Inpathos, strangeness of detail and mystery, the story of Frances Slocum 
stands alone in Indian history. 

A limited edition of only 500 copies printed. Price, elegantly bound in 
half morocco and superbly ornamented, $5; cloth, $3. No agents employed. 
For co])ies address 


Sent by mail to any address. To any one ordering the three books at 
once, they will be furnished, in half morocco, for ten dollars, a reduction of 
three dollars from the schedule price. J. F. M.