Here's more on the Indian scare that occurred in 1862 in Eau Claire. This portion of the story elaborates more on the first story that we read last week from the "History of Eau Claire County Wisconsin, 1914". Today's version is from "Sawdust City" by Lois Barland. Mr. Parker who lived in Grant's Pass, Oregon in 1920, gave his recollections of the Indian scare. "In consequence, I believe, of a treaty naming Eau Claire part of a sort of 'deadline' we seldom saw any Indians there. I remember going with my mother once to the McLellan stopping place, on the Sparta stage road some seventeen miles from Eau Claire. We had known the family in Sauk county. While at the stopping place a man by the name of Hill, who made his home at McLellan's came in with about a half a dozen Indians. They were given their dinner. I remember that some of them had on pants or leggings made from the grain sacks in use in those days. I was nine years old at the time of the Indian scare in Eau Claire. My recollection is that Sunday, August 31, 1862, was the critical day, and my memory in regard to some parts of that occasion is very vivid. There had been rumors for several days that the Indians were liable to rise and on Saturday a meeting of the men on the West side was held to make arrangements for defense. A company was formed, with Daniel Shaw as Captain and Noah Shaw as Lieutenant. They armed as many as they could with guns, and the rest with pitchforks. My father carried the latter. It was arranged that the ringing of the Congregational church bell should be the signal for the mustering in of the company. On the East side a German by the name of Hantzch, a saloon keeper and distiller, who had received military training in Germany, was put in general charge. His place of business was near the Bangs and Fish planing mill. Sunday morning I was in the front yard with one of the Pond girls. Bill Pond lived in the house next to ours, which was built by my uncle Alfred, and we saw a man running past so nearly exhausted that he could scarcely go faster than a walk, and yelling, "Indians" every few minutes. I think he was minus his hat. We found out afterwards that it was Charlie Bangs who lived on Elk Creek, about eight miles west of the village, where he had a private trout pond. He reported that he could see his neighbors' grain and haystack burning and that he had hurried on afoot to warn the people in the village, leaving the rest of the family to come with the ox team. It was said that the family left in such a hurry that one of the children was forgotten, but I will not vouch for that. I rushed into the house and told my father and mother. While we were talking the church bell began to ring. It was said that Billy Gans, the ferryman, stuck his head in the church door and yelled "Indians" and the congregation never waited for the benediction. Dinner had just been put on the table, but mother and I did not want any. Father said he was not going to fight Indians on an empty stomach, and he ate his dinner, while mother buried her limited stock of silverware in the garden and made other arrangements for leaving the house. Father left to join his company, and mother and I went to the residence of L. T. Chandler, who had a horse and buggy. They were intimate friends of ours, and had boarded at our house a good deal, Mrs. Chandler's health being poor. They were prominent Baptists and while they were with us the Baptist church was organized in our house. When mother and I arrived at Chandlers, Mr. Chandler hurried out to harness the horse but soon came back and said to his wife, "Where is the baptismal robe?" "Good land," said Mrs. Chandler, "who wants to be baptized now?" "Nobody," said Mr. Chandler, "they want the lead in it." While we were waiting I saw Ed Partlow running back and forth in the street crying, "The Indians are coming, what we do? They will kill us all." It was said, I do not know with how much truth, that Jim Harminson was found, after the excitement was all over, hid under a porch. Jim was no coward, as I had occasion to see for myself in after years. When the City of Eau Claire was incorporated, Jim Harminson and George McVicar were appointed the first policemen for the west side. One Fourth of July I was walking along Water Street, when I saw a man come headlong out of a saloon on the opposite side of the street. He had evidently been kicked out. Presently another man came out and jumped off the sidewalk on top of him. Others joined in, and soon there was as pretty a fight as you ever saw. George McVicar was near by, but made not effort to stop it. Several special policemen took a hand, but made little impression. Finally, I saw Jim Harminson come around the corner by Alber Dodge's drug store on the run, and he started in as if he meant business. Frank Cole, a big huskie "State of Mainer" was in the center of the disturbance, and Jim commenced pushing men out of the way so he could get at Cole. "One Arm McCarthy" struck him in the back. Him gave McCarthy a whirl then turned him over to Charley Seaman, one of the specials. At first Cole resisted arrest, but Jim soon convinced him he had better quit. That ended the fight. To return to the Chandler residence and the Indian scare. Mr. Chandler hitched up his horse and took us to the Marston building on the east side, which had been selected as one of the 'forts.' When we got up town we saw a great many people, some going one way and some another, but all with looks of anxiety on their faces. I recall two of them. One was Fred Kitzner's little old German mother, who had some things tied up in a red bandanna handkerchief. (Fred Kitzner was toll keeper of the first Chippewa bridge.) Another was a lame man by the name of Harvey. Some one said to him, "What are you going to do if the Indians come? You can't run." "Well," he said, "I can hide." As we drove on to the ferry boat, a party of mounted men, I think there were twenty-one of them, came off the boat. They were going out scouting. The only one I remember was Eugene Andrews, brother of Mrs. Bill Pond. When we got to the Marston building we found a number of men working as hard as they could, barricading the building with timber from Chapman and Thorp's mill. This is all I remember personally of the famous Indian scare, but my mother has told me that the mothers put their children to sleep on the floor and sat and watched them all night. She said Mrs. C. A. Bullen would look at her four children and say, "If the rebels want them killed why do they not come up here and kill them themselves instead of stirring up the Indians to do it?" One of the stories as to the cause of the scare was to the effect that a trapper and hunter, Jim Buck, by name, who had been much with the Indians, came into town that day and said he had seen one hundred and fifty Indians in their war paint on Boree's bottoms. It was said that the next day when a scouting party came back and reported no signs of Indians, Buck was taken before a Justice of the Peace and made to swear as to the truth of his story, and that they then took him, and a rope, down to where Buck claimed to see the Indians. if no singes of Indians were found the party intended to hang him. On the way down he got away from them and was never seen in those parts for many years." (Note: In the early days the flat at the top of the hill below the end of the Shawtown car line was known as Boree's prairie, Charley Boree being the first settler there. Boree's bottoms lies between this high ground and the river. There is a small lake there, still known as Boree's Lake.) W. H. Smith recalled his experiences that day; "We were eating dinner when Mrs. W. T. Weber came in to tell us '500 Indians were on the way here on the war path, between Chippewa Falls and Eau Claire'." Mrs. Smith and Mr. Weber immediately went up town and opened their store, located on the corner of Barstow and Gray Streets. Mr. Smith said, "The streets were crowded with excited people. Many rushed into the store for shot and powder but as not money was forthcoming, we finally closed, keeping back some ammunition, in case of need. Those in the army of Col. Hantzch, who had not a gun, were armed with the sharpened end of a lightning rod. Major W. Pitt Bartlett, mounted on a white horse, and armed with an ancient horse pistol, was riding up and down the streets, sounding the alarm and the call to arms. The Court House Square was soon crowded with teams and wagons filled with people from the country who camped there all day and all night. A report came back that Jim Rork on Elk Creek had sent word that grain stacks were being burned at Elk Mound. People were so excited they tore the planks up from bridges leading out of the city towards Shawtown." During the night, some of the people were hungry so Mr. Smith and Mr. Weber under an armed guard, crossed the street to the Smith garden to pick some watermelons. Marston Hall was also crowded with people all day and night. Some people were so frightened that they left town, never returning. Mr. and Mrs. Manley on the west corner of Farwell and Jones Streets, left a new home partly completed, afterward selling it for a price lower than its worth. A farmer drove in from Truax Prairie with a horse and cow hitched together. In the wagon was family, coffee pot and some coffee. The recent Indian massacre at Mankato, Minnesota, made people frightened beyond all reason. It was Monday night before quiet reigned and people returned to their homes, assured no Indians were within a hundred miles of Eau Claire. +++++++++++++ So now you know the rest of the story (gee, I feel like Paul Harvey!) And there are so many more interesting pieces of history in this book and the sister book to this one, I think we'll start at the beginning and go through them -- as long as I have permission to use them in this way. We will begin reading "In the Beginning -- Eau Claire in the 1850's" the next time we get together. -- Nance mailto:nsampson@spacestar.net