Apparently Eau Claire was not the only place that went into a panic over the famous 1862 Indian Scare. The following is a portion of what Lois Barland wrote in her book "Sawdust City" about the topic. I know this first segment is more geared toward Dunn Co., but this material is so good, I thought you'd like to read this too. Also, please note, this is copyrighted material. I have secured permission from the Barland family to use these materials for this mailing list and the Eau Claire Co. WIGenWeb site. Using this material for any other purpose is prohibited. THE INDIAN SCARE The sixties went down in the history of Eau Claire as the time of an event, which, while more or less serious, certainly was chiefly ludicrous. Of this event the local press made only this comment: "We have no relish for reproducing the particulars of the silly panic which seized the people of the entire Chippewa Valley on Sunday and Monday last (August 31 and Sept. 1, 1862) in consequence of a rumor that hostilities had been commenced by the Chippewa Indians against the whites of this region." The following account of the Indian scare was written by Mrs. Naoma Doolittle and read for the old settlers of Dunn County. It was the first year of the Civil War, I think, about the last of August. The Knapp-Stout Company had been logging above Rice Lake, somewhere near Couderay, and in the spring dammed up all the little streams to raise the water so they could float their logs down to Rice Lake. In so doing they had filled up all the rice swamps along the streams and destroyed the Indian rice. This caused a great deal of dissatisfaction among the Chippewas. There had been much grumbling and some threats. Some time in July, the Indians in Minnesota had an uprising and massacred a number of the inhabitants and the story was that the Chippewas were preparing to do the same thing, which of course caused great alarm. All the farmers on Elk Creek and Mud Creek met at the Downsville mill and formed a homeguard. In case the Indians had an uprising they were to send their families to Downsville. Downs had a great many men in his employ and they were to be with the home guards too. Captain Andrew Tainter had a great deal of influence with the Indians. It was said that Tainter had gone up to Rice Lake to see if he could settle the trouble with them and some of the guards were to go to Menomonie and find out and report. So one Saturday, two of our neighbors, George Smith and John Garnet, went to Menomonie to see if the trouble was settled. Sunday afternoon Mr. Doolittle and I went to Smith's to hear what news he had brought home, but Smith and Garnet had not returned. We had not been there long before we heard some one whooping and screaming in the road. We all rushed to the door to find out the cause. A man came running toward us swinging his hat and calling at the top of his voice, "Fly for your lives, the Indians are coming. They are now on Mud Creek prairie killing and burning all before them. There is a man on horseback notifying all the people." Mrs. Smith got her children ready and started them for Downsville along a foot path near the river. She said the Indians would not get there in time to see them. Then she began carrying her provisions out and hiding them in the cornfield. (She did not intend leaving them anything to eat) and we started for home. When we reached home, which was only half a mile, Mr. Doolittle said, "We had better fortify right here. I can shoot from the upstair window." I said, "No, they would set fire to the house and burn us out." So we decided to go to Downsville with our boat, so we gathered up a few little things, taking the bread I had baked Saturday and the roll of butter I had churned. Mr. Doolittle took his two guns and we floated down the river to Downsville. When we came in sight of the place there was great excitement. People were hurrying across the bridge with their families in wagons, and some even had their household goods on the wagons. We landed and went up to Down's house, where we found the Downs family just getting into their wagon to flee from the Indians too. He had left his house wide open and told the folks to go in if they wanted to and help themselves for he thought the Indians would destroy everything. There was a big flat boat in the river and many men were putting their wives and children on this to go farther down the river. One man said to his wife as he put her on, "God bless you, Betty, we may never meet again." Old Mr. Powell, after putting his wife aboard, called out, "Good bye, old woman. I am going to stay and kill the papooses, for nits will make lice." Mr. Doolittle said, "You and the boys go on the boat as all the women are." I said, "Are you coming, too?" He answered, "No, not I." "Then I will stay too," I replied. He urged me to go, but I said, "No, I am going to stay and help fight the Indians." We went up to the house where there were about thirty men (not one woman). They were all standing around in the yard, I walked out and said, "Now if any of you men want to go, just leave me your gun." They said, "If one woman has courage enough to stay, we will all stay." "If I cannot have a gun, I will have to resort to hot water," I told them. So we built a fire and put on the wash boiler and soon had plenty of boiling water to throw on the Indians, but no Indians appeared. The guards sent some men out on horseback to reconnoiter. They road over toward Mud Creek. All was quiet; not a soul to be seen. After the men came back and reported, they then started some guards after the fugitives. They thought they would have to do some fast driving to overtake them, but in this they were mistaken, for the people had not traveled too fast after crossing the river. They were in the woods now and out of sight of the pursuers, so they overtook some of them and these returned. Others had traveled on faster and got as far as Dunnville, Durand, and even Reed's Landing. They did not get back for several days. Everyone was mighty glad it was only a scare. About five o'clock, the guards said they thought it was time to have something to eat after such excitement. The millboys went to their cook's shanty and brought bread, fried cakes, eggs, coffee and sugar, and with my new bread and butter, we had quite a supper. As they sat around the long table, all seemed quite jolly after the scare. But poor old Mr. Powell had not had a chance to shoot a papoose, much to his sorrow. We remained at Downsville until the next morning and then went to our homes. The real truth of the scare was this; some boys were out hunting that Sunday and went into a farmer's cornfield to hunt his melon patch. When they saw the farmer come out of his house they fired off their guns and gave several whoops. Of course he thought they were Indians. He ran to his barn, got out a horse and started his boy off on horseback to warn the people. And by the time the story got to us, the Indians were killing and burning everything in their way. When Captain Tainter got back from Rice Lake he said the Indians had had a scare also and were going north. They had heard the soldiers were after them, and they were not ready to fight. ++++++++++++ On Monday, we'll read the beginning of the eye-witness report of the Eau Claire scare. It elaborates a little bit more on what we've read previously. See you then! -- Nance mailto:nsampson@spacestar.net