Fifty Years In The Northwest. William H. C. Folsom
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a close eye upon me for being so quiet and restrained. It was true that the western rivers were infested with desperate characters, gamblers and thieves such as the Murrell gang. Might I not be one of them. I was truly glad when, on the fifth of December, we landed at St. Louis. It seemed nearer my own country; but finding no employment there, I embarked on the steamer Motto for Hennepin, Illinois, where I found occasional employment cutting timber. There was much talk here of the Murrell gang, then terrorizing the country; and I have good reason to believe that some of them at that time were in Hennepin. After remaining about two months, I left, on foot, valise in hand or strapped upon my back, with J. Simpson, for Galena, which place we reached in four days. Finding here Mr. Putnam, with a team, I went up with him on the ice to Prairie du Chien, where, after an absence of five months of anxiety, suspense and positive hardships, I was glad to find myself once more among friends.
During the summer of 1838 I cultivated a farm. I had also a hay contract for the fort. My partner was James C. Bunker. I had worked hard and succeeded in raising a good crop, but found myself in the fall the victim of bilious fever and ague. I continued farming in 1839 and furnishing hay to the fort, but continued to suffer with chills and fever. Myself and partner were both affected, and at times could scarcely take care of ourselves. Help could not be obtained, but ague comes so regularly to torture its victims that, knowing the exact hour of its approach, we could prepare in advance for it, and have our water, gruel, boneset and quinine ready and within reach. We knew when we would shake, but not the degree of fever which would follow. The delirium of the fever would fill our minds with strange fancies. On one occasion I came home with the ague fit upon me, hitched my horses with wagon attached to a post and went into the house. Banker had passed the shaking stage, and was delirious. I threw myself on the bed, and the fever soon following, I knew nothing till morning, when I found the team still hitched to the post, and, in their hunger, eating it.
In November of this year I made a somewhat perilous trip with team to Fort Winnebago, at the portage of the Fox and Wisconsin rivers. The weather was cold and the military road, much of the distance, covered with snow. There was scarcely a trail over the rolling prairie to guide me. Exposure brought on the chills as I was returning. Fatigued, sick and suffering, I coiled myself on the top of the load. The second day, as the sun was setting, I came in sight of Parish's Grove, but the horses were unwilling to obey my guidance. Coming to a fork in the road they insisted on going to the right. I pulled them to the left. Had I been guided by their "horse sense" they would have brought me in a few moments to the door of Parish's hotel. As it was, I drove on until far in the night, when we came to a steep hill, two steep for descent in the wagon. I unhitched the team, loaded them with the portable things in the wagon to keep them from the wolves that were howling around, mounted one of the horses and descended the hill and found myself at Parish's door, the very place I had been trying to find for a day and a night. Lieut. Caldwell, quartermaster at Fort Crawford, received the load, and learning something of the perils of the journey, gave me eighty dollars instead of the forty he had promised.
RETURN TO MAINE.
During the spring and summer of 1840, I fulfilled heavy hay and wood contracts for the fort, and in the autumn of that year concluded to revisit my early home in Maine. I set out September 23d, and reached Chicago in seven days, traveling with a team. I traveled thence by steamer to Buffalo, by canal boat to Rochester, by railroad and stage to Albany and Boston, by railroad to Lowell, and by stage to Tamworth, New Hampshire. After spending four years amidst the prairies of the West it was indeed a pleasure to look again upon the grand ranges of mountains in this part of New England. When eleven years of age I had lived where I could look upon these mountains, and now to their grandeur was added the charm of old association. I looked with pleasure once more upon "Old Ossipee," Coroway Peak, and White Face. Time had written no changes upon these rugged mountains. There were cottages and farms on the mountain side. Sparkling rivulets gleamed in the sunlight, as they found their way, leaping from rock to rock, to the valleys beneath. Tamworth is situated on beautiful ridges amongst these mountain ranges. Near this place is the old family burying ground containing the graves of my grand parents and other near relatives. These mountain peaks seemed to stand as sentinels over their last resting place. I remained at Tamworth a short time, visited the graves of my kindred, and on October 20th pursued my journey to Bloomfield, Maine, my old home. I found great changes. Some kind friends remained, but others were gone. The old home was changed and I felt that I could not make my future home here. The great West seemed more than ever attractive. There would I build my home, and seek my fortune. I found here one who was willing to share that home and whatever fortune awaited me in the West. On January 1st I was married to Mary J. Wyman, by Rev. Arthur Drinkwater, who gave us good counsel on the eve of our departure to a new and still wilderness country. On February 16th we bade adieu to our friends in Maine, visited awhile at Tamworth, and March 20th reached Prairie du Chien, having traveled by private conveyance, stage and steamer, passing through New Haven, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Frederick City, Maryland, over the National road to Wheeling, Virginia, by steamer down the Ohio and up the Mississippi to our destination. Here we made our home until the autumn of 1845, I continuing in the business in which I had been previously engaged. At this time a failure in my wife's health rendered a change of climate necessary.
PRAIRIE DU CHIEN IN 1836-37.
Our history of Fifty Years in the Northwest commences properly at Prairie du Chien in the years 1836-37. The entire country west and north was at that time but little better than a wilderness. Prairie du Chien was an outpost of civilization. A few adventurous traders and missionaries had penetrated the country above, planting a few stations here and there, and some little effort had been made at settlement, but the country, for the most part, was the home of roving tribes of Indians, and he who adventured among them at any distance from posts or settlements did so at considerable peril. Prairie du Chien, as we have shown, had been for an indefinite period under various governments, at first a French, and later an American settlement, generally under the protection of a military force. It was a primitive looking village. The houses were built for the most part of upright timber posts and puncheons, and were surrounded by pickets. There was no effort at display. Every thing was arranged for comfort and protection.
AMERICAN RESIDENTS.
There were living at Prairie du Chien in 1837 the following Americans with their families: Alfred Brunson, Thomas P. Burnett, Joseph M. and Thomas P. Street, Ezekiel Tainter, John Thomas, Milo Richards, John H. Fonday, Samuel Gilbert, and William Wilson. The following were unmarried: James B. Dallam, Ira B. Brunson, William S. Lockwood, and Hercules Dousman. In addition to these were perhaps near a hundred French families, old residents. Among the more noted were the Brisbois, La Chapelle, Rolette and Bruno families.
We include in the following biographical sketches some names of non-residents, prominent in the early territorial history, and others who came to Prairie du Chien later than 1837.
BIOGRAPHIES.
James Duane Doty.—The life of this eminent citizen is so interwoven with the history of Wisconsin that it might well claim more space than is here allotted to it. The plan of this work forbids more than a brief mention, and we therefore give only the principal events in his life. Mr. Doty was born in Salem, Washington county, New York, where he spent his early days. After receiving a thorough literary education he studied law, and in 1818 located at Detroit, Michigan. In 1820, in company with Gov. Cass, he made a canoe voyage of exploration through Lakes Huron and Michigan. On