Sometime in June there came a canoe of Indians to our shore. They made their camp near us. Mother went to see them. When she came home she told us they were Menominee Indians come to fish for a time. They had been over to Cross Village visiting some friends. Their home was in Green Bay county. There were two small children, the Indian and his wife. The Indian woman was a pretty woman with jet black hair cut straight across the forehead, this being the fashion with Menominee squaws. Their wigwam was always nice and clean. She was a nice sewer, piecing pretty bed quilts, which always looked clean. Often when mother got in a hurry with her work she hired the Indian woman to scrub and wash, and other times to do some sewing. She was always smiling, showing her pretty white teeth.
One morning when I awoke I found father and Mr. Dora, a neighbor, had gone to Mackinac Island. They were gone about three days. When they came home father had clothing for mother which Mr. Cable did not keep in his store. Among the rest was a great quantity of bright colored glass beads and many yards of colored ribbon, which she put away in her trunk, saying to me, "Do not speak about what I have put away." Mother and the Indian woman were often together speaking softly, so I never knew what they said. Mother seemed anxious, and the Indian woman also seemed quiet and thoughtful.
Soon after father's return mother said to me, "Elizabeth I want you to let all your other work alone and string beads for me." I was delighted, for if there was anything I loved to do it was to string the pretty colored beads. So I began at once, each color on a strong thread. After stringing a great quantity in this way, then I made many strings in different colors, mixing the beads. As much as I enjoyed it I got very tired, and whenever I went to the camp the little Indian children were stringing beads and their mother was sewing, making deerskin moccasins, on which she sewed the beads, which were so pretty when finished. She made many pairs of them. Sometimes the Indian woman came to our house, helping mother and me to string the beads, which she did so fast, and talked so pleasantly in her own language, mother speaking her language as well as the other tribes' that lived around us. There were several camps of Chippewa Indians that lived along the shore that helped the fishermen clean their fish, and the women made oil from the fish refuse which sold for one dollar a gallon or more, according to quality. Most of these Indians came from Garden Island.
Our Mormon friends who used to come to our house did not come any more. There were two who sometimes came in a few minutes, but never remained long. Everybody was anxious to know what the king would do about his people when he came back. Many of the Mormons believed Strang would take no notice of the refusal of some of his elders to practice polygamy, while others thought that the man who hoped to have Strang's place would influence him to make them suffer the penalty, which the Mormons themselves told us was death, this elder contending severe measures was the only way to enforce obedience to the law.
Having already organized a band of forty thieves, these men were being trained to go out and do all the robbing from the Gentiles they saw fit to do. The two men who headed the band were brothers and were large and powerful men, Isaac and John Pierce. They were well suited to do such work. The place they chose to secrete their stolen goods was a long point at the lower end of Beaver Island, distant about three miles from the harbor. This place was called by them "Rocky Mountain Point." Being an out-of-the-way place they would not be seen secreting much of their plunder.
One night I was awakened out of a sound sleep by hearing footsteps in the room. I opened my eyes and saw mother with the Indian woman and another woman going up stairs. I waited sometime for them to come down, but fell asleep before they came. I was awakened again. There was a very dim light in the room. I saw a tall Indian who seemed to walk about very feeble as if sick. His black hair was pulled over his eyes and he held his hand up as if to shade his eyes from any light. There were two Indian women in the room, one the Menominee woman, the other was a stranger but she wore her hair cut across the forehead. She seemed young and was dressed very beautifully. Her moccasins were trimmed with pretty beads, and many strings of bright colored beads were about her neck, and I thought she must be a princess, the daughter of a chief. She and the Indian walked about the room several times, while mother and the Menominee woman spoke to them in their language, they answering in the same. I saw father nod and smile, at which they all took up parcels and small bundles from the table and walked out in single file.
I waited some little time, and hearing nothing I got frightened, thinking father and mother had gone away and left me, I got up, ran out of doors and met mother. She took a blanket from my bed, saying, "Come Elizabeth and see the Menominee Indians, they are going away. They must go home and see to their crops and cannot stay here any longer." I said, "Where did the other two come from?" She made a quick motion, putting her hand over her mouth, which I understood was to be silent and ask no questions. We were both speaking in French. I followed her to the beach, where a large birch bark canoe was packed. I saw four little children packed away Indian fashion, each had a little black puppy dog in his arms. The tall sick Indian got in first, seating himself and smoking his pipe, then the young Indian woman followed, then the Indian and his wife. There were many "bou shou's" (good-byes) spoken in subdued tones. The Indian and his wife took the paddles, father gave one hard push and away sped the bark canoe over the blue water. The sky was just getting red in the east, little birds were twittering in the branches of the trees, we all stood watching the fast receding canoe, which soon looked a speck upon the water. I ran to the house and crept into bed, and when I awakened the sun was high. I asked mother where the Indians were now; she answered. "They are far away." All day she seemed cheerful, and I heard her sing for the first time since I came home from Ohio. I wandered down to the Indian camp and all I saw was just a few marks where the wigwams had stood. No rubbish was lying about. They had vanished as if they had never been. Surely "They had folded their tents like the Arabs and as silently stole away."
It was eight years afterward when I learned just who it was that stole away on that quiet morning in the bark canoe. I was living for a short time in the Green Bay country. I was invited out one afternoon to a quilting party. The men were to come for supper and a lady was to play for us on the violin, she being an accomplished musician. She had come there from Baltimore for her health. As we sat at our quilting in the afternoon, one of the women asked the lady of the house why it was they had settled there near the Menominee Indian reservation, and if they were not afraid to be killed sometime by the Indians. Then the lady of the house explained and told her story of how her husband, herself and children had been saved by one family of these Indians with the help of a white family, and this was why her husband was devoting his time to preaching among the Indians. I, being a stranger in the place, had not met this family before, but had been invited to their home with others. Before she had finished I seemed to understand it all. I knew now what all the beads and bright colored ribbons were used for and I knew who the tall sick Indian was with the pretty young Indian woman and the two little children with the others in the canoe. When I made myself known to the lady and her family they were overjoyed to see me. I met them several times afterward, and she told me how they crossed over to the north shore and kept along close to the shore, camping many times where the Indian and his wife set their net and caught all the fish they needed to eat, all the time teaching them to speak their language. They did not go direct to the Indian settlement until fall, then her husband concluded to settle among them and act as a missionary to them. Never very strong in health he had grown stronger in the open air life. Their children were educated at Green Bay.
I will try to tell just a little of this woman's story. Of how they came to Beaver Island with many others, and how they got away from the Island after much sorrow.
Our home was in a small town in New Jersey. We had a little farm and were very comfortable. It was spring time, our crops were planted and growing. It was told us one day two men had asked for our little church to hold a meeting in for a couple of evenings and the whole neighborhood was invited to attend. My husband being an elder in our little church we, with many other neighbors went to hear the men speak. They were both good talkers and we were all greatly interested. They continued the meetings a week and we all became so interested they were invited to remain longer. One claimed to be a minister, the other an elder. They told a great deal about the Land of Promise they had found. My husband's two brothers were ready to join and prevailed upon my husband to come with them. About thirty were ready to follow the new preaching. They left us to go to other parts and told us to be ready at a certain time, when they would come back and take us with them. We sold our little farm and stock at a great sacrifice, keeping only our bedding and clothing, as they told us it was a long journey. We waited for them to come until November and had almost given up in despair, when one day they came. When we started there were twenty-five grown people with their children. We had two small children, twins, a boy and a girl. Our hopes were high, we were going westward they told us. We took a steamboat at Buffalo, as they told us no railroad had yet been built to reach there. The trip was hard, cold and tedious. Not one of us had ever been on the water before. We were afraid and we were all sick, but we stood it as bravely as possible and hoped for better times.
It was a dark, stormy night when we landed. Snow was falling. We were a cold, shivering company as we stumbled along up the dock. We were taken into a house, where we soon had a warm supper and were told we could sleep on the floor if we had bedding of our own, as their beds were all full. We made our beds and found it very cold, as doors were opening and shutting until almost morning. We were all put into one large room which was very bare of furniture. Children cried and there was not very much sleep. At the first peep of day most of us were up to take our first look at the Promised Land. At first we tried to look out of the windows, but they were steamed and frosty and we could not see. We then went out of doors. Our first glance was out on the cold, rough water of a little harbor, as they called it, and never shall I forget the lonely feeling that came over me. All was silent but the sound of the waves that washed upon the shore. What little ground was visible where the snow had drifted was all bare white sand. There were many pretty evergreen trees back a short distance from the water. There being few houses visible we were told the houses and farms were farther back in the country. We were called to breakfast, and when it was finished we were told we could go to the King's house, which was pointed out to us, and he would direct us what to do next. "The King's House." What did they mean? We had never heard of any king. They said, "You will soon know. We are ruled by a king who has revelations direct from God. There are twelve apostles to rule with him, and out of this company of people he will choose four more which are needed." Our surprise was great. We were anxious to know all, so were taken to the King's house. He met us very kindly and explained many things to us. He talked considerable about his revelations and what he hoped to do for his people. His manner was very captivating, and we all felt much encouraged after he had talked with us. We were all divided up among the other families on the island until we could build our homes. We were there over a week before we knew for certain we were on an island. To me it was a terrible shock but we had no time to think much about it only what we should do to provide shelter for the long winter. The King soon left to go travelling for the winter to bring more converts in the spring.
It so happened the home we went to live in the people kept a boarding house and I soon found to my horror the man had four wives, had had six but two were dead. We soon found them a peculiar people with great faith in Strang and of his building up of Zion calling themselves Latter Day Saints, or Mormons. We had not known or heard of this but had been led to think we could worship as we liked. We soon found it was best not to exchange much thought with our neighbors on the subject and we were so scattered about we seldom met only at meetings. There was being a temple built to worship in and my husband being a carpenter he was most of his time working on it. We soon learned every tenth of our income belonged to the King and many extras to help the expenses. It took quite a large sum to build this temple. They had a small saw mill and there the lumber was cut. Everybody was busy. We were ruled by a man who had no pity for any one. That winter was too terrible to remember. We were all glad to have the King come back in the springtime. He brought more people who seemed to have more means, for those who had, had to share with those who had little. My husband and his two brothers were made apostles soon after Strang came. I saw very little of my husband after he was made an apostle. There was always something to be talked over and explained, so the King had to have most of their time.
Our funds were getting low and I felt very low spirited, but my husband told me he thought that everything would be satisfactory in time. I longed to be free. I wanted to feel I could talk to my husband for it soon dawned upon me we must not discuss the subject of the doctrine only with a true belief in all of Strang's revelations. The most of the people were gay. The winter time was their time for gaiety. The following spring after we came, when my husband was made an apostle, there was a great feast and we were all baptized in the waters of Little Font Lake. The King was dressed in a robe of white and purple. He gave a short brilliant discourse. To most of them the ceremony was impressive. His wife, Mrs Strang, did not attend as she was not a believer in the doctrine. To me it all seemed a sham. Just before my husband was made an apostle I asked Strang about polygamy and why some had more than one wife. He answered that they had practiced it to some extent in Joseph Smith's time but he would have no such practice but had allowed those who had several to keep them. On the next Sabbath he preached a powerful sermon against polygamy. I felt more secure because I hoped he would keep his word. Very soon after this it came like a thunderbolt to us. The king had a revelation. He must take more wives, and very soon took some more.
In his absence his wife took her three children and left. Before going we managed to meet, as we were fast friends from the first. She advised me to persuade my husband to get away as soon as possible, as she was sure there was great sorrow in store for me. She then told me any disobedience to the oath of allegiance of the apostles, to the king, would be punished with death, saying she knew this to be true, having overheard the apostle that ruled in her husband's absence, talking about it. But they never knew she heard, and now I must be watchful. It was terrible to know all this, yet I knew she told me the truth. She said, "Make a confidant of no one." We had talked many times before this, but now she told me more, saying, "I would stay here and fight it to the bitter end but I know it would do no good. My life would soon be ended. They have already said, 'Dead people tell no tales.'" "I feel sure Strang's own life is in danger by the plotting of his head apostle." She ended by saying, "I never expect to come back unless I can help some poor soul to be happier. If you ever need a friend's help send a letter to me. You can always trust the Indians." She said, "I have warned Strang of his danger and begged him to put away that bad man, but he will not heed me." She left. I was very sad, but not yet realizing how soon I would need her help.
After awhile a law was made by the King that all officers of the church must have a plurality of wives. Then we women banded ourselves together, I being at the head, we met the king in the temple and took votes, coming out victorious each time. The whole island was in a state of agitation. Every woman interested took her Bible and talked and read God's laws faster than the king could tell us about his revelations. One little woman spoke, saying, "Take all our earnings, but leave us our husbands. We want to live an honest life." He said he did not propose to be ruled by a lot of weak, whining women. This roused me. I jumped to my feet and I talked two hours. He answered sarcastically and I answered him in the same way. I recounted everything to him. How we had been deceived. He ordered me from the room, and when his guards attempted to obey his orders the other women interfered and Strang was obliged to let me have my say. Often the women applauded me. At last I could speak no more. I was exhausted, but I managed to tell him I hoped he would consider all we had asked of him and grant our request. After a few moments of silence he looked me in the face, saying, "Madam, you have shown such great ability in discussing this matter I think I had better put my temple robe upon you." I answered in the same sarcastic tone, "Yes, and I think your robe would be far more becoming to me than it is to you and I could rule the people and make them happier than you have so far." Never can I forget the look of hatred he gave me. The men hurried me from the room and appeared very much excited. After I left other women made an appeal to him, but left without gaining any promise from him, saying he would give them an answer the next morning. I heard nothing more. Next morning I was sent home in a lumber wagon. My two children and husband were not allowed to come with me. My home was very near to the Gentile settlement. My heart was heavy. I went to some of my Mormon neighbors. Their doors were shut in my face and none spoke to me when I met them. After a week I was very sick in bed. I became unconscious. When I realized anything I recognized a Gentile neighbor. She was preparing some food for me to eat. I asked her many questions about my children and husband, but she could give me no information. She told me I had many friends among the Mormons, as it was a Mormon woman who had directed her to come to me. She told me to be quiet and have courage and all would be well and that I must get well as fast as possible.
Strang had gone for the winter and she feared there might be trouble between the Gentiles and Mormons, as the fishermen felt they could not endure much more robbery. I felt more courage because I knew this woman had an influence with the Indians, as she could speak their language and was always the Indian's friend. This woman's children were away for the winter and her heart was sad. We could sympathize with each other. One dark night in March I heard a gentle tap at my window. I opened the door. It was my husband. He had been handed a note that morning saying, "Go home. You are safe for awhile." He had walked all the distance after dark. Next day the neighbor woman came and told me my children were both well and cared for. Oh joy! I could get well now, and gained my strength fast.
Navigation opened; Strang came home, remaining only a few days. He was becoming greatly troubled over the discontent of his people and thought best to be away for a time. The fishermen began to come, and several Indian families came also to fish and make oil. Myself and husband were left to ourselves. One night a letter came to my husband saying, "When the king comes home Mr. Sinclair must be prepared to obey the law or suffer the consequences." It was signed by the head apostle. My husband was greatly worried, knowing the laws so well. In my heart I asked God to help me in my sore distress. I recalled the words of Mrs. Strang that if ever I needed a friend to call on her and she would come if possible. I wrote her to come. I gave the letter to my faithful friend.
The letter was taken to Mackinac Island and from there it was taken to Mrs. Strang. She came, she got my children and brought them to the Indian camp. Myself and husband were disguised as Indians, our children the same, and all were taken away from the island in a birch bark canoe.
The summer was passing, it was late in August. Cholera was raging at Mackinac Island. Fifty-two deaths had occurred there and three deaths occurred at Beaver Island. A lady was boarding with us from Mount Clemens. Her two youngest children died from cholera in our house. My father and I both had it but recovered. Also a captain of a small vessel died. After the deaths our clothing was all washed and the Mormons came, taking everything they could find. They took several boats and all the fish from the fish houses between Cable's dock and the harbor. It was now becoming serious between the Gentiles and the Mormons. Peter McKinley had moved his family to Mackinac Island, not considering it safe to carry on business any longer. Mr. Cable had also left and gone to Indiana. His uncle, Mr. Alva Cable, came with his vessel, taking C. R. Wright and family, with several others, to Charlevoix, then called "Pine River." All the Ohio, Canada and Detroit fishermen had gone home. My two brothers had gone to Detroit to school for the winter. Our family, and seven others, were the only Gentiles left on the island, and we were preparing to leave as soon as possible. One morning about the first of November a messenger came to every Gentile family with a letter from the king, saying every Gentile family must come to the harbor and be baptized into the Church of Zion or leave the island within ten days after receiving the notice signed by the King, James J. Strang. Within twenty-four hours after receiving the notice every Gentile family had gone but ours. They had taken what they could in their fish boats. Our boat being small, father thought best to wait for a vessel to come and take us away. The fourth day no vessel had come. Father feared the message to the captain of the vessel had not been delivered, which had been sent by an Indian family going home to the Old Mission. Winds were ahead, the weather rough. Our goods were packed, and every day some Mormon men could be seen walking along the beach, each carrying a gun, but none ever spoke to us. These were anxious days to us, watching and waiting for a sail. Father had made up his mind if the vessel did not come we would take what we could in our small boat and go to the Indians for protection until we could get to the main land. The evening of the ninth day had come and no welcome sail in sight. John Goeing, our faithful friend, was with us and cheered us with his strong faith that the vessel would come in time.
I had laid down and fallen asleep. I was wakened by hearing low voices talking. I listened a few moments and knew it was Mr. Bower. He was the man who had doctored father when he was sick. He had stolen away from his home in the darkness and came to sympathize with us. He then told us he was going to leave the island the next spring if possible, as he was tired of the life he had to live among the Mormons, saying. "There are many excellent people here that would be glad to go, but they have no means to go with and fear to try to go." With a warm clasp of the hand and a good-by to all, he was gone.
I was called from a sound sleep by my mother saying, "Get up quick Elizabeth, here is the vessel at anchor just in front of our house." I was up in a minute and ran out to see. Yes, there was the little vessel resting so quietly on the water. Father and John were carrying goods to the shore, the captain and another man were loading the yawl, mother and I carried what we could. Our pets had all been put on board, our clothing and most of our bedding was loaded. Mother and I had gone to the vessel. All was loaded except a few boxes and two large trunks. When father and John started to go back to the shore after them several men were standing beside the goods and each had a gun in his hands. This was enough. Father knew the rest of our goods must be left. Our sails were quickly hoisted, the anchor pulled up and soon we were sailing toward Charlevoix, where we knew our friends were waiting for us. The sun was just coming up in the east, and as we looked back we could see the door of our house stood open as our doors had always been to strangers or any who needed help. None had ever gone away cold or hungry. And some of the people who now stood on the shore with guns pointed toward us had been fed and cared for by my people.
With a fresh breeze and a fair wind our little vessel was nearing Charlevoix, the land that seemed to promise us safety. Surely there we could live in peace. As we neared the river we could see our friends waiting for us on the shore. We came to anchor on the north side of the river, the wind making a big sea at the river's mouth. I remember how happy we all felt that night to be with friends and no Mormons to be afraid of. Mr. Alva Cable had built a large house and shop on the south side of the river on the bank, very close to the water. The lumber he had bought at Traverse City. Captain Morrison had built his house also on the south side just close to the river bank. Several houses were made on the north side of the river. There were twenty-five families of Gentiles, and two Mormon families had stolen away with the fishermen, claiming their protection, which was freely promised them. One was a Mormon elder and his family, the other a young man living with his widowed mother.
The little village of Charlevoix was just about complete. Our house was built just beside the river, not far from the shore, with just room for a foot path between the house and the river bank. A high hill was on the other side of us. One night a storm came up with a great tidal wave and Mr. Cable's house was almost washed away. The whole village turned out and helped to save the goods. Many of the neighbors had advised him not to put his house so near the water, but he said he always liked to "experiment." Next time he built his house farther up the river, several rods below where now stands the Lewis Opera House. Fishing being good, those that had not had their nets stolen put them out, catching all the fish they could take care of. Mr. Cable had a cooper shop which employed several men. He kept a store, supplying groceries and provisions to the little village, and having a few dry goods to supply their needs. When Christmas and New Years came the people had many little parties and took their dinner together. Many of them employed their time by preparing their nets and knitting new ones for the next season's fishing. There was no sickness and all felt very happy and secure from the Mormons, at least while the winter lasted.
Our mails came every two weeks. Our mail carrier was William Davenport of Mackinac Island, his route being from the Island to Traverse City, calling at Old Mission and Elk Rapids. Davenport had four large hound dogs. His sled was made of thin boards steamed and bent at one end, with many little ribs or cleats across to give it strength. It glided along on top of the snow and would hold heavy loads. It was called a train. The winter was extremely cold, with deep snow and heavy ice. The mail carrier always stopped with us over night each way, going south and coming north, our people knowing his parents so well he always felt at home with us. It was always a pleasure seeing the mail carrier coming with his dogs and great pouches full of mail. The tinkling of the bells around the dogs' necks always made us drop our work to see them coming on a fast trot, for the dogs enjoyed being noticed and petted. Always a crowd gathered around William to hear the news from the outside. He always trimmed the harness up with gay colored ribbons before coming to the village. How we children loved to watch those great dogs run and play when taken out of the harness, rolling over each other in the deep snow. Father made them a warm place to sleep in the woodshed. Davenport always had various little packages for the whole village. He was obliging and good natured. All of northern Michigan in those days had very few white settlers. Only just now and then a white family. Indians were everywhere. In the summer season their bark canoes could be seen coming and going in all directions. The smoke from their wigwams was seen rising along the lake shore where they fished and made gardens. In winter they usually went further inland to hunt.
Navigation was now open. Boats and vessels could be seen passing. Fishermen had come from Detroit, Cleveland, Lake Huron and Canada. Several had brought their families to spend the summer beside the sea. My brothers came with the rest. Mr. Cable, or Uncle Alva as he was called by every one, was very happy. He felt sure the little village would grow fast, as he intended making many improvements as soon as possible. Word soon came from Beaver Island for those two Mormon families to come back to the island. In some way the Mormons had found out the men were with the Gentiles. The men sent back word that they would never go back. Soon another message came saying a boat with force enough would be sent to bring them to the island.
As soon as navigation opened Strang extended his territory by sending several families to South Fox Island and several more to Grand Traverse, where they settled near the pretty little harbor, which they named "Bower's Harbor" in honor of the man who had charge of the little settlement, where a beautiful resort is now situated at the harbor, which is called "Neahtawanta" (peaceful waters.) Those who settled there were Mormons only in name, as they were only too glad to get away from the island. About this time it was becoming quite difficult for Strang to manage all his people. The new people coming to the island had very little faith in his "Divine Revelations." They enjoyed the island life for its healthful climate. Strang was losing hold upon many of his people. The newcomers had means of their own and felt free to come and go when they pleased. Many of the women were refusing to wear the bloomer dress and their hair cut short. This greatly annoyed Strang, for he could see he was fast losing control of the people. There had been many improvements, farms were well cultivated, a new dock and store at the harbor village, roads made through the island, good warm houses with gardens attached, and the most of them were very comfortable.
One bright, clear day, the 14th of July, 1853, our men were nearly all on the lake at their work. A watch was kept every day by our people from the high hill near us, where the lake could be seen for many miles. Father and Captain Morrison were on duty this day, taking turns in watching. The men on the lake also keeping a close watch toward the island. Sometime in the forenoon of that day two small dark objects could be seen upon the calm water in the direction of Beaver Island. Captain Morrison took a powerful field glass and soon made out the objects were fish boats coming from the island. The boats were being rowed and seemed to come slow, keeping very close together. We watched their approach with anxious hearts, fearing our men would not see them in time to reach shore as soon as the boats came. It so happened on that day nearly all the women were together at a quilting party given by Mrs. Morrison. When they learned the Mormons were coming they became greatly excited at first, knowing their husbands had made up their minds to fight if necessary. Father and the captain began to prepare everything for battle. Thinking there might not be bullets enough the lead was melted and father said to me, "Here Elizabeth, take these moulds and run the bullets," which I did. We had notified Uncle Alva Cable and he, too, was preparing. The boats came along, steadily nearing the shore. At one time all took them to be Indians, but as they came nearer it was plain they were white people. A short time before they landed we saw the white sails of our fishing fleet hoisted nearly all at one time. Then we were sure they had seen the strange boats coming. A light breeze sprang up fair for our boats and they came sailing in to land. The fishermen's boats would land over by the south point from the river, as that made the best landing. This was some little distance, a mile or more by land. Captain Morrison went round by the path back from the beach so that he would not be seen by the Mormons. He was to notify the men to come as soon as possible.
My father went down the shore to meet the Mormons. They landed on the south side of the river, and the boats were landed side by side. The head man of the boats was one of the Pierce brothers. Father asked him his business. He said, "We have come to take the two men that are here with you. Our orders are to bring them dead or alive." Father said. "Why do you want these men? They have left you and will do you no harm. Why not let them go when they do not want to stay with you? And I warn you now, Mr. Pierce, our people have made up their minds to give these men their protection and it will not be best to try to force them to give them up. If you do try to take them there will be trouble, so you had better go." He answered, "I will never leave this shore until we have these men, and we will make you all as humble as mice, and your blood shall mingle with these waters if you attempt to resist us," and many more boastful threats, which he made while he kept walking about swinging his arms. Father talked to him quietly, but he would not be quieted. He grew more fierce every moment. After a time the youngest of the men they came after walked down to the boat, telling Pierce himself he would not be taken back by them. He and the leader had many hot words together pertaining to their own troubles which they had had together before he left them. He had been a member of Pierce's crew and becoming tired of the life had quit them. This they did not like, as they knew he knew too many of their secrets. Soon Captain Morrison came back and walked down to the boats, telling them not to persist in taking the men. Pierce was more furious than ever. Father and the two others walked away from them towards the house. The Mormons talked a few minutes together. One boat captain seemed to want to push off his boat and go. But Pierce would not let him. I stood looking out of a small window from Captain Morrison's house. I could see directly on to both boats and was but a short distance from them. I could hear almost every word spoken by the leader, as he spoke in a loud, deep voice.
Soon shots were fired, I cannot say how many. All was confusion, women were screaming, some were praying. Men were talking, trying to quiet them. I never took my eyes from the Mormon boats, and when the smoke cleared away I saw the men hurriedly push their boats off and jump into them, taking their oars and pulling with all their might. Then I saw our men coming towards the house carrying a man who seemed to be dead, as blood was streaming down. The form looked familiar to me. I ran to the door and saw it was my brother Lewis. They carried him home, laying him down and examined his wound. He was shot in the calf of the leg. It was a flesh wound. The place was small where the bullet went in, but the flesh was badly torn where the bullet came out. Excitement was great; the men wanted to follow the Mormon boats. At the river there were but two boats at the time, our own, which was too small, and Captain Morrison's, which was a large, heavy boat.
The men concluded at last to take that boat and give chase to the Mormons, as the delay would be too great in getting a boat from the fishermen's landing. So the boat was manned by a double crew to row. One man was placed in the bow with his rifle to shoot into the Mormon's boats and sink them if possible. Every bullet he shot seemed to take effect. Our men were powerful oarsmen, and in spite of the distance the two boats had made before our men had got started, our boat was gaining on them fast. Soon one of the Mormon boats was sinking, and they made some delay by getting out of the sinking boat into the other. Our men were straining every nerve to overtake them, which they soon would have done had not the Mormons hurried toward a large vessel which lay becalmed just ahead of them. It was getting dusk, but everything could be plainly seen.
The Mormons rowed with all their might to the vessel, telling the captain that they were fishermen and that the Mormons were chasing them and begged to be saved from their enemies. Of course the captain could do no less than let them get aboard his vessel, which they soon did. Our men came as near to the vessel as they could and told the captain how it was. He told them he could not do anything, and it was best for them to go quietly home, which they did. The vessel was the "Bark Morgan." It was stated in "The Northern Islander," a paper edited and printed at the island, that seven were killed and five wounded of the Mormons at the battle of Charlevoix. A man who boarded with me several years after this happened told me that this was the correct number. As he was in the boat and one of the wounded, he being shot in the shoulder. He was very young when he was in training with these bad men. He also told us that Pierce, the leader, was very angry and had planned to come back and drive us away or murder us all. They wanted to settle there themselves, which they did as soon as we left.
Mr. Alva Cable called the people together and consulted about what was best to be done. Some wanted to remain and fight the Mormons if they came again, but the women all wanted to go. About that time a Mormon that had left the island and never intended to go back, advised us all to go. So it was decided we should get away as soon as possible, as news kept coming that it was not safe for us to remain longer. Mr. Alva Cable, Wrights and many other families went to Little Traverse, now Harbor Springs, my two brothers going with them. My father decided we should go to Traverse City. Our friend, John Goeing, had left us the week before the Mormons came. He received a letter from home. His mother was very sick and wanted to see her son before she died. He went to Mackinac Island, and from there took a steamer to Buffalo. He wrote us just before he took the steamer from New York City, promising to write us as soon as he reached home. We never heard from him again. We felt sorry to have him go. He had been with us four years and seemed like one of our own family.
Our friends and neighbors were all gone. We were left alone at Charlevoix. Waiting patiently for the little vessel to come from Northport which was to take us to Traverse City. At last we saw the white sails which proved to be our vessel. It was dark before the vessel anchored outside the river. The night was warm, our goods were on board, all was silent, only the splash of the waves as they washed along the shore. The little village was in darkness when we closed the latch to our door and walked down to the little yawl waiting for us to be taken on board. We were soon on the deck of the little vessel, the moon was rising, and by the time our sails were up and we were ready to start the water was sparkling like diamonds as the soft light shone upon it. Never had we appreciated its beauty before as now in this beautiful moonlight. Tears were in our eyes, for we had been very happy there with our neighbors. Now we were leaving all and going to a strange place, but we hoped to find a place of safety. Long we watched the beautiful shore as we sailed along in the light breeze. Again we were driven from home. Father helped the captain sail the vessel. Mother and I lay down for a while in the little cabin. I was wakened by hearing the anchor chain when the captain said, "Here we are at Northport." We visited there several days. The captain's home was there. We met many kind people, who invited us to make our home with them for the time of our stay. We accepted the invitation of the Rev. George Smith and were nicely entertained by himself and his family. Their beautiful vine covered home was a perfect bower of roses. The most beautiful flowers grew everywhere about their grounds. Mr. Smith was a Congregational minister. His family were very musical, and our stay of nearly a week is a bright spot in my memory.
Our little vessel had to have some repairs before we could proceed on our journey. We then sailed direct to Bower's harbor, remaining two days with our old friend, Mr. Bower. Himself and wife were glad to see us and to know we had escaped safely from Mormon persecutions. They were very happily situated in their new home and their new surroundings of scenery were very beautiful. Oh, how glad Mrs. Bower was to be released from Mormon rule.
The day was fair, the sun shone bright when our sails were filled with the breeze that carried us along over the blue waters to Traverse City. Arriving at Traverse City, we found several people whom we knew, so we felt that we were not entirely among strangers. We were soon comfortably settled among very kind neighbors. Traverse City at that time was very new. The Boardman Company had settled there to lumber. The firm of Hannah, Lay & Co. bought the Boardman Company out. A steam saw mill, also a water mill run by water power. This small mill was in the west part of town beside the big mill pond. The company's big boarding house was where the company's men boarded. This was in charge of Dr. D. C. Goodale. Then the company's store, with a large stock of general merchandise, presided over by the genial clerk, H. D. Campbell, or "Little Henry," as we children always called him. He was the children's friend. No matter how busy he might be he always had a kind word and a pleasant smile for us children. Then there was the large steam mill and blacksmith shop just beyond the store. There was no bridge there then to cross the river on. We children most always crossed over on the boom which held the logs in the river. The only bridge on the river was up near the Boardman Lake.
The school house was near the river bank, just about opposite to the river's mouth. It stood back far enough for a good wide street. It was in the midst of a pretty grove of small oak trees that reached their branches far out, giving cool shade where we could sit and eat our lunch. The evergreens and maple trees were mixed about, giving it a variety of change. Wild roses grew everywhere. It was truly an ideal spot that we never tired of.
Our teacher was Miss Helen Goodale. I will just mention a few names of the scholars I first met on the morning of my first school day in Traverse City. Alexander, James and Jane Carmicheal, George, John and Tom Cuttler, James, William and Richard Garland, Augusta and Lucius Smith, Helen Rutherford and brother, Albert Norris and Agnes Goodale, sister of the teacher.
The next year more people came and more scholars. Our little school house was filled. We were a happy lot, seeming almost like one family. We drank from the same cup, swung in the same swing, sharing our lunches together, and no matter where we have roamed through the wide world can we forget that little old log school house. I have seen it many times in my dreams, and the happy faces of each as we tried to excel to please the teacher. We all loved her, though trying her patience often. Yet we knew and felt she loved us. Oh, happy school days and pleasant school companions! Only a few of us are left at this writing, many have crossed over on the other side, yet I believe it will be a happy re-union if sometime we may meet where no good-byes are said.
Very near to our school house east Mr. J. K. Gunton built the house which bore the name of "The Gunton House," and was run with success by himself and wife for a number of years. There was no steamboats coming to Traverse City in those days. The lumber was shipped by vessel to Chicago. The schooner "Telegraph" made regular trips every two weeks. The "Telegraph" brought all the supplies for the Company. At the opening of navigation it was a pleasant sound to hear someone say for the first time, "Here comes The Telegraph." Our mails were brought by a mail carrier from Grand Rapids. An Indian and sometimes a white man carried the mail. It was brought down along the shore, it being considered the safest way to travel alone. Sometimes the rivers had no bridges and the mail carrier had to swim across. Mr. Hugh McGinnis carried the mail on that long lonely route for a long time while we lived there.
No farms were yet cleared about Traverse City at that time. Mr. Lyman Smith being the only family living out at Silver Lake, seven miles south of this city. Soon Mr. Alvin Smith took some land on the west side of Silver Lake with Mr. West. More people moved in, and soon the Bohemians came in, settling on the east side of Silver Lake and made nice homes for themselves. Mr. Rice's family came the next year after we came. There were five girls in their family. The two eldest soon married, the other three entered school. Mellisa, Emma and Annie. They lived very near to us and we girls were always fast friends. We walked to school, picked berries in summer time, played, sang and worked together. And of all the places we liked best to go was out to the "Company's Garden." There we waded the brook, picked the flowers and wild strawberries, and sometimes we caught the horses that belonged to the Company, and climbing on their backs we rode around the field, for it was only a garden in name. It was used for a pasture field for the Company's cattle and horses. Those were days to be remembered. The little water mill, as it was called, had a horse car track laid from it down to the west dock where the lumber was put on the car and the horse drew it to the dock for shipment. Then what fun we all had to run down the track and get the ride back on the car.
The huckleberry plains, as they were called, were between east and west Bay. There on Saturdays, when there was no school, almost everybody went picking and took their lunches with them. Mrs. and Mr. Garland, one of our neighbors, moved to Old Mission on a farm and new people took their house.
The same year we went to Traverse City a family came from Chicago. The next week the man's wife died, being very sick when she came. In six weeks after the little baby died, leaving three more children. Mr. Churchill was sick himself. Mother brought them all home. A neighbor, Mrs. Hillery, took the oldest girl of nine and kept her all winter. There were two little boys left, Frank aged seven, and George aged five. Father and mother adopted little Frank, so I now had a little brother for company. Mr. Churchill left the next June for Chicago, taking Amelia and George with him, promising to write us often. We never heard from him again, and always felt anxious to know what became of the two children. Little Frank was very happy with us.
Mr. Greilick and family now came. They built a steam mill near Mr. Norris, about two miles west of Traverse City, on the shore. After we were in Traverse City three years we moved to Greilick's mill. Frank and I used to walk around to the city to school on the shore road. The road was pleasant and very close to the water most of the way. There were no churches in Traverse City then, but Sunday was kept just as sacred as though the people had churches to go to. Sometimes religious services were held by a minister that came from Chicago, going around among the settlers. There were also no saloons in Traverse City. Mr. Hannah kept a large number of men to do his logging in the camps in winter. No liquor was sold nearer than Old Mission and very little being sold there. A drunken man was seldom ever seen in Traverse City in those days. In the camps there was always many accidents and deaths from falling trees and accidents in the mills. Dr. Goodale being the only doctor was kept very busy at times, my mother helping him often. The life at Traverse City was a busy one for us all. We were very happy with our neighbors, often going to Bower's harbor in summer time in our own boat to visit friends.
Rumors many times reached us about the Mormons and their doings on Beaver Island, and at one time everybody feared they were coming to Traverse City to drive the Gentiles away. Mr. Hannah set watchmen to guard the place by night for a long time, and the fishermen were more unsafe than ever, and were making an appeal to the Government for protection.