John Tanner - A narrative of the captivity and adventures of John Tanner

In this manner I descended the Illinois River, killing plenty of game, and having at all times enough to eat; my health, also, gradually improving, until I came to St. Louis. Here Governor Clark showed his wonted kindness, not only to me and my children, but to the Old Smoker who had been so serviceable to me in my journey. After giving the old man a handsome present, he provided for his return to his own country, and dismissed him. I was detained longer at St. Louis than I had wished, as new clothes were to be made for my children. Some of these not having been completed in time for me to take with me, the Governor sent them afterwards to Kentucky. From St. Louis, I went to Cape Guirardeau in my birch bark canoe, having a letter from Governor Clark to the Indian agent at that place.

At Cape Guirardeau, where I left my canoe, and where I remained but a very short time, I saw some of the gentlemen of Major Long’s party, then on their return from the Rocky Mountains. This was in the fall of the year 1820, and was about one year after my first arrival on the Ohio in 1819. From the time of my capture by Manito-o-geezhik and Gish-kaw-ko, just thirty years had elapsed before I started in the spring of 1819 from the Lake of the Woods. So that it must have been in the spring of the year 1789 that I was taken prisoner. I am now forty-seven years old.

Four months I remained with my sisters at Jackson, fifteen miles from Cape Guirardeau; then I went to Kentucky, and the next fall I returned to St. Louis, to see Governor Clark; but he was not at home, and as many people were then dying in St. Louis of fevers, I made but a short stay. On my way home, I fell sick of a violent fever at the Grand Prairie, which is eighty miles from the place where I had left my children. Fortunately I fell into the hands of a woman who treated me with much humanity and kindness, and I soon began to recover. I now heard that my children were dying with the fever which prevailed so generally throughout the country, and notwithstanding my own miserable and debilitated condition, I hastened home. Only one of my children died. The others though very sick, at last recovered. But I was not alone in this affliction. Seven died out of the circle of my near relatives with whom I then lived, and an alarming mortality prevailed throughout that part of the state.

On the ensuing spring an attempt was made to recover something for my benefit from the estate of my father; but my stepmother sent several of the negroes, which it was thought might fall to me, to the island of Cuba, where they were sold. This business is yet unsettled, and remains in the hands of the lawyers.

In the spring of 1822,I started to go again to the north, not finding that I was content among my friends in Kentucky. I went by the way of the Grand Prairie, and having given my canoe to my brother, I took horses, and putting my children on them, I came to St. Louis, thence by way of the Illinois, towards Chikago.

The Indian agent for Fort Clark lived at this time at a place called Elk Heart, some distance below. He, as well as most of the people on this route, had been kind, and had shown a disposition to assist me whenever I needed any thing. On this journey I stopped at Elk Heart, at the house of the agent, and though he was not himself at home, I had my horses fed, and was supplied with what refreshment I needed for myself and children, free of expense. On the following day, I met the agent on his way home from Fort Clark, and told him of the reception I had met at his house in his absence. He was glad to hear of this, and he told me that I should soon come to a bad river to cross; “but,” said he, “there is a boat now on this side, in which I have just crossed. The man to whom it belongs, lives on the other side. You must use the boat to cross, and then tell him to take it around to the other river, which is beyond his house, and help you to cross that, and I will pay him for his trouble.” We crossed accordingly, but my daughter Martha being now sick, we stopped all day near the house of the man to whom the canoe belonged. I had one very handsome horse which had been given me by my brother, and which this man said he was determined to have from me. He offered to buy it, but I told him the horse was necessary to my journey, and I could by no means part with it. Still he insisted, and said unless I would let him have the horse, I should not have his canoe to cross the other river. He cursed and abused me, but all the means he could use did not induce me to give up the horse. The canoe had been taken around to the river I had to cross for the use of some other person, and when I was ready to go I started, expecting to find it there. But on my way to the ferry, I met the man on horseback who said to me, “I have taken away the canoe, and you cannot cross.” Without regarding this, I went on, and when I arrived, I found the canoe was indeed gone, and that there were no logs, or other materials to make a raft. Fearing to endanger the children by swimming them across on the horse’s backs, I stood for some time in doubt what to do. At last I recollected, that if he had hid the canoe, as was most probably the case, his track would lead me to it. Then going back to the road a considerable distance from the river, I found his track coming into it. This I followed, until I found the canoe hid in thick bushes, about a mile below the ferry. Taking it up to the crossing place, I carried my children, and led the horses over; then giving the canoe a push into the stream, I said to it, “go, and stay where your master hides you.”

At Chikago, I was compelled to sell my horses for much less than their value to Captain Bradley and a Mr. Kenzie, who was then agent in place of Dr. Wolcott, as they told me I could not get them taken to Mackinac. One old horse which I left as being of little or no value, I afterwards received fifteen dollars for from some gentlemen who wished to make use of him, but who might have had him for nothing. When Captain Keith, in the schooner Jackson, arrived, he told me, on seeing the paper given me by Governor Clark, that he would have taken my horses to Mackinac for nothing; but it was now too late as they were sold.

A principal part of my design in returning to Mackinac was to engage myself to Col. Boyd, the Indian agent there, as an interpreter; he having very often expressed a wish that I should do so, whenever I had acquired such a knowledge of the English language as would qualify me to discharge the duties of that station. It was now, therefore, a disappointment to me, to be informed that I had come too late, an interpreter having recently been hired to fill the place. He informed me, however, that an agent to be stationed at the Saut De St. Marie would probably arrive in the steam boat which was expected immediately, and Col. Boyd thought I might obtain the situation of interpreter for him. When Mr. Schoolcraft, the gentleman expected, arrived at Mackinac, he readily accepted my proposal. But as he was to stay but an hour or two on the island, he directed me to make my preparations and follow him, allowing me four days after his arrival at the Saut before it was necessary for me to be there. I made my preparations accordingly, and was nearly ready to start when a letter came from Mr. Schoolcraft, stating that he had found an interpreter at the Saut, and therefore did not wish me to join him. I carried back to the traders the furniture and other articles which I had purchased with the expectation of residing at the Saut, and they willingly restored me my money.

Being now destitute of employment, I engaged to Mr. Stewart, the agent of the American Fur Company, to go with the traders into the Indian country. This I preferred to remaining with the Indian agent, though he again proposed to hire me for a striker in his smith’s shop. For my services with the people of the American Fur Company, I was to receive two hundred and twenty-five dollars per year and a suit of clothes.