Chapter XVIII: Appendix: E

WILLIAM WELLS AND REBEKAH WELLS HEALD.

GRATITUDE to our first hero and martyr calls for a somewhat extended study of his life, and it will be found interesting enough to repay the attention.

Colonel Samuel Wells and his brother Captain William Wells were Kentuckians; the family being said to have come from Virginia. William, when twelve years old, was stolen by the Indians from the residence of Hon. Nathaniel Pope, where both brothers seem to have been living. He was adopted by Me-che-kan-nah-quah, or little Turtle, a chief of the Miamis, lived in his house and married his daughter Wa-nan-ga-peth, by whom he had several children, of whom the following left children:

Pe-me-zah-quah (Rebekah) married Captain Hackley, of Fort Wayne, leaving Ann and John Hackley, her children.

Ah-mah-qua-zah-quah (a "sweet breeze"--Mary) born at Fort Wayne May 10, 1800, married Judge James Wolcott March 8, 1821; died at Maumee City, (now South Toledo,) O., Feb. 19, 1834, leaving children as follows: William Wells Wolcott, Toledo; Mary Ann (Wolcott) Gilbert, South Toledo; Henry Clay Wolcott, South Toledo, and James Madison Wolcott, South Toledo.

Jane (Wells) Grigg, living at Peru, Indiana; has children.

Yelberton P. Wells, St. Louis, died leaving one child.

William fought on the side of the Indians in the campaign of 1790 and 1791, when they defeated the Americans under Generals Harmer and Saint Clair. The story of his reclamation, as told by Rebekah (Wells) Heald to her son Darius, and repeated by him to a stenographer, in my presence, in 1892, is quite romantic.

Rebekah was daughter of Samuel Wells, elder brother of William, and was therefore niece of the latter. She must have been born between 1780 and 1790. We learn from the story of her son, the Hon. Darius Heald, as follows:

She was fond of telling the story of her life, and her children and
her friends were never tired of listening to it. [Her son thinks he
has heard her tell it a hundred times.] She would begin away back in
her girlhood, spent in the country about Louisville, Kentucky, when
her father. Colonel Samuel Wells, was living there; and tell how
they all wanted uncle William Wells, whom they called their "Indian
uncle," to leave the Indians who had stolen him in his boyhood, and
come home and belong to his white relations. He hung back for years,
and even at last, when he agreed to visit them, made the proviso that
he should be allowed to bring along an Indian escort with him, so
that he should not be compelled to stay with them if he did not want
to.

Young Rebekah Wells was the one who had been chosen to go to the
Indian council with her father, and persuade her uncle William to
come and visit his old home; she, being a girl, very likely had more
influence with him than any of the men could have had. William Wells
was at that time living a wild Indian life, roaming up and down the
Wabash river, and between the lakes and the Ohio. Probably the place
where the battle of Tippicanoe was fought, in 1811, near the present
site of La Fayette, Indiana, was pretty near the center of his
regular stamping ground.

After much hesitation he consented to get together a party of braves,
somewhere from seventy-five to a hundred, and visit his relatives.
Little Turtle, whose daughter he had married, was along, very likely
commanding the escort. They went down to the falls of the Ohio river,
about opposite Louisville, and camped, while William Wells, with a
picked band of twenty-five, crossed the river and met with his own
people. Then the question arose as to whether he was the brother of
Colonel Samuel Wells, and he asked to be taken to the place where
he was said to have been captured, to see if he could remember the
circumstances. When he reached there, he looked about and pointed
in a certain direction and asked if there was a pond there; and
they said: "Well, let's go and see." So they went in the direction
indicated, and to be sure they saw the pond; and he said that he
could remember that pond. Then he saw a younger brother present, whom
he had accidentally wounded in the head as a child, and he said to
his brother:

"Now if you are my brother there ought to be a mark on the back of
your head, where I hit you with a stone one day;" and the brother
held up his head, and William lifted the hair and found the scar, and
he said: "Yes, I am your brother."

William was now convinced for the first time that he was the brother
of Colonel Samuel Wells, but he went back with his Indian friends,
his father-in-law, Little Turtle, and the rest, and it was not until
sometime later that he told Little Turtle that, although he had
fought for his Indian friends all his life, the time had now come
when he was going home to fight for his own flesh and blood. It was
under a big tree on the banks of the Miami that he had this talk, and
he pointed to the sun and said: "Till the sun goes up in the middle
of the sky we are friends. After that you can kill me if you want
to." Still they always remained friends, and agreed that if in war,
if one could find out on which side of the army the other was put,
he would change positions so as not to be likely to meet the other
in battle; and if one recognized the other while fighting, he would
never aim to hit him. They also had the privilege of meeting and
talking to each other, it being understood that nothing was to be
said about the opposing numbers of their armies. They were not to act
as spies but simply to meet each other as friends.

It was at about the time when General Wayne, "Mad Anthony," came into command that Wells left his red friends and began to serve on the side of his own flesh and blood. He was made captain of a company of scouts, and must have done good service, for, in 1798, he accompanied his father-in-law, Little Turtle, to Philadelphia, where the Indian (and probably Wells also) was presented to President Washington, and in 1803 we find him back at Chicago signing an Indian trader's license: "W. H. Harrison, Governor of Indian Territory, by William Wells, agent at Indian affairs." Little Turtle lived usually at Fort Wayne. Of him his friend John Johnston, of Piqua, Ohio, said:

"He was a man of great wit, humor and vivacity, fond of the company
of gentlemen and delighted in good eating. When I knew him he had two
wives living with him under the same roof in the greatest harmony.
This distinguished chief died at Fort Wayne of a confirmed case of
gout, brought on by high living, and was buried with military honors
by the troops of the United States."

He died July 14, 1812, and was buried on the west bank of the river at Fort Wayne. His portrait hangs on the walls of the War Department at Washington.

In 1809 Captain Wells took his niece, Rebekah, with him to Fort Wayne on a visit. Captain Heald was then on duty at Fort Wayne, and it was doubtless there that the love-making took place which led to the marriage of the two young people in 1811.

The following interesting bits concerning Captain Wells are taken from a letter written by A. H. Edwards to Hon. John Wentworth (Fergus' Hist. Series No. 16), the remainder of which letter is given later in this volume. (See Appendix G.)

Captain Wells, after being captured by the Indians when a boy,
remained with them until the treaty with the Miamis. Somewhere about
the year 1795 he was a chief and an adopted brother of the celebrated
chief Little Turtle. Captain Wells signed the marriage certificate,
as officiating magistrate, of my father and mother at Fort Wayne,
June, 1805. The certificate is now in my possession.

"Fort Wayne, 4th June.

"I do hereby certify that I joined Dr. Abraham Edwards and Ruthy Hunt
in the holy bonds of matrimony, on the third instant, according to
the law.

"Given under my Hand and Seal, the day and year above written.

"William Wells, Esq."

* * * Captain Wells urged Major Heald not to leave the fort, as he
did not like the way the Indians acted, and was well acquainted with
all their movements as learned from his Indian allies, who deserted
him the moment the firing commenced. Captain N. Heald's story is as
I heard it from the mouth of one who saw it all, the girl and her
mother, the one living in our family for many years, and the mother
in Detroit. Their name was Cooper.

Captain Wells, soon after leaving the Indians, was appointed
interpreter at the request of General Wayne, and was with him in his
campaign against the Indians as captain of a company of spies, and
many thrilling accounts were given me of his daring and remarkable
adventures as such, related by one who received them from his own
lips, and in confirmation of one of his adventures pointed at an
Indian present, and said: "That Indian," says he, "belongs to me,
and sticks to me like a brother," and then told how he captured him
with his rifle on his shoulder. This Indian was the one who gave
Mrs. Wells the first intimation of his death and then disappeared,
supposed to have returned to his people.

Captain William Wells was acting Indian Agent and Justice of the
Peace at Port Wayne at the time he married my father and mother, and
was considered a remarkably brave and resolute man. I will give you a
sketch of one of his feats as told me by my mother, who was present
and witnessed it all. The Indians were collected at Fort Wayne on
the way for the purpose of meeting the Miamis and other Indians in
council. While camped there they invited the officers of the fort to
come out and witness a grand dance, and other performances, previous
to their departure for the Indian conference. Wells advised the
commander of the fort not to go, as he did not like the actions of
the Indians; but his advice was overruled, and all hands went out,
including the officers' ladies. But the troops in the fort were on
the alert, their guns were loaded and sentries were doubled, as it
was in the evening. A very large tent was provided for the purpose
of the grand dance. After many preliminary dances and talks, a large
and powerful chief arose and commenced his dance around the ring, and
made many flourishes with his tomahawk. Then he came up to Wells, who
stood next my mother, and spoke in Indian and made demonstrations
with his tomahawk that looked dangerous, and then took his seat.
But no sooner than he did so Wells gave one of the most unearthly
war-whoops she ever heard, and sprang up into the air as high as her
head, and picked up the jaw bone of a horse or ox that lay near by,
and went around the ring in a more vigorous and artistic Indian style
than had been seen that evening; and wound up by going up to the big
Indian and flourishing his jaw-bone, and told him that he had killed
more Indians than white men, and had killed one that looked just like
him, and he believed it was his brother, only much better looking
and a better brave than he was. The Indians were perfectly taken by
surprise. Wells turned to the officers and told them to be going.
He hurried them off to the fort, and had all hands on the alert
during the night. When questioned as to his action and what he said,
he replied that he had told the Indians what I have related. Then
he enquired of those present if they did not see that the Indians
standing on the opposite side of the tent had their rifles wrapped up
in their blankets.

"If I had not done just as I had, and talked to that Indian as I did,
we would all have been shot in five minutes; but my actions required
a council, as their plans were, as they supposed, frustrated, and
that the troops would be down on them at the first hostile move they
made." He saw the game when he first went in, as his Indian training
taught him, and he waited just for the demonstration that was made
as the signal for action. Wells saw no time was to be lost, and made
good his resolve, and the big Indian cowed under the demonstration
of Wells. My mother said he looked as if he expected Wells to make
an end of him for what he had said to Wells in his dance. "I had
to meet bravado with bravado, and I think I beat," said Wells. You
could see it in the countenances of all the Indians. The same advice
given to Heald, if attended to, would have saved the massacre of Fort
Dearborn. * * * *

A. H. Edwards.

James Madison Wolcott, grandson of Captain Wells (through Ah-mah-quah-zah-quah, who married Judge James Wolcott) wrote to Mr. Wentworth as follows:

We are proud of our Little Turtle [Indian] blood and of our Captain
Wells blood. We try to keep up the customs of our ancestors, and
dress occasionally in Indian costumes. We take no exception when
people speak of our Indian parentage. We take pleasure in sending
you the tomahawk which Captain William Wells had at the time of his
death, and which was brought to his family by an Indian who was in
the battle. We also have a dress-sword which was presented to him
by General W. H. Harrison, and a great many books which he had;
showing that even when he lived among the Indians, he was trying to
improve himself. He did all he could to educate his children. Captain
Wells, in the year of his death, sent to President Madison, at Little
Turtle's request, the interpretation of the speech that that chief
made to General W. H. Harrison, January 25, 1812.

Captain Heald never got rid of the effect of his wound. The bullet remained embedded in his hip and doubtless is in his coffin. He resigned shortly after the war, and the family (in 1817) settled at Stockland, Missouri. The new name of the place, O'Fallon, recalls the fact that the well known Colonel O'Fallon, of St. Louis, was an old friend of the family, and himself redeemed the things which the Indians had captured at the massacre (the same articles now cherished as relics of the historic event) and sent them to Colonel Samuel Wells at Louisville, where they arrived during the interval when all supposed that Nathan and Rebekah had perished with the members of the garrison and their fellow-sufferers.

Among the articles captured by the Indians and, after their transportation from Chicago to Peoria and from Peoria to Saint Louis, bought by Colonel O'Fallon and sent to the Falls of the Ohio (Louisville) to Samuel Wells, are the following, all of which were brought to Chicago by the Hon. Darius Heald, exhibited to his relatives (the family of Gen. A. L. Chetlain), and their friends, and here reproduced.

Captain Heald's sword.

A shawl-pin he wore which, when recovered, had been bent to serve as
a nose-ring.

Part of his uniform coat, which seems to have been divided among his
captors.

Six silver table-spoons and one soup-ladle, each marked "N. R. H.,"
doubtless the wedding-present made by Colonel Samuel Wells to Nathan
and Rebekah Heald.

A hair brooch marked "S. W.," supposed to contain the hair of Samuel
Wells.

A finger-ring marked "R. W." (Probably one of the girlish treasures
of Rebekah Wells.)

A fine tortoise-shell comb, cut somewhat in the shape of an eagle's
beak and having silver ornaments representing the bird's eye,
nostril, etc.

Mr. Wentworth further says:

In the biographical sketches of the members of the Corinthian Lodge
of Masons, at Concord, Mass., I find the following:

Nathan Heald, initiated in 1797, died at Stockland (now O'Fallon) in
St. Charles County, Missouri, where he had resided some years, in
1832, aged 57 years. He was born in Ipswich, N. H., September 29,
1775, was the third sou of Colonel Thomas and Sybel (Adams) Heald
and in early life joined the U. S. Army. Mrs. Maria (Heald) Edwards,
of this city, born at Ipswich, N. H, in 1803, mother of Mrs. General
Chetlain, was the eldest child of his brother, Hon. Thomas Heald, one
of the Associate Judges of the Supreme Court of Alabama. (Fergus'
Hist. Series No. 16.)

A considerable part of Captain Heald's first report of the massacre appears in our old friend Niles' Weekly Register, Nov. 7, 1812. (I have quoted it, to a great extent, in connection with the story of the event.)

Extract of a letter from Captain Heald, late commandant at Fort
Chicago, dated at Pittsburg, October 23, 1812:

On the 9th of August, I received orders from General Hull to evacuate
the post and proceed with my command to Detroit, by land, leaving
it at my discretion to dispose of the public property as I thought
proper. The neighboring Indians got the information as soon as I did,
and came in from all quarters to receive goods in the factory-store,
which they understood were to be given to them. On the 13th, Captain
Wells, of Fort Wayne, arrived with about thirty Miamis, for the
purpose of escorting us in, by request of General Hull. On the 14th
I delivered to the Indians all the goods of the factory-store, and a
considerable quantity of provisions which we could not take with us.
The surplus arms and ammunition I thought proper to destroy, fearing
they would make bad use of it, if put in their possession. I also
destroyed all liquor on hand soon after they began to collect.

The collection was unusually large for that place, but they conducted
with the strictest propriety until after I left the fort. On the
15th, at 9 A. M., we commenced our march. A part of the Miamis were
detached in front, the remainder in our rear, as guards, under the
direction of Captain Wells. The situation of the country rendered it
necessary for us to take the beach, with the lake on our left and
a high sand-bank on our right at about one hundred yards distance.
We had proceeded about a mile and a half when it was discovered
that the Indians were prepared to attack us from behind the bank. I
immediately marched up, with the company, to the top of the bank,
when the action commenced; after firing one round we charged, and the
Indians gave way in front and joined those on our flanks. In about
fifteen minutes they got possession of all our horses, provisions,
and baggage of every description, and, finding the Miamis did not
assist us, I drew off the men I had left and took possession of a
small elevation in the open prairie, out of shot of the bank or any
other cover. The Indians did not follow me but assembled in a body
on the top of the bank, and after some private consultation among
themselves, made signs for me to approach them. I advanced toward
them alone and was met by one of the Pottowatomie chiefs called
Black-bird, with an interpreter. After shaking hands, he requested
me to surrender, promising to spare the lives of all the prisoners.
On a few moments consideration I concluded it would be most prudent
to comply with his request, although I did not put entire confidence
in his promise. After delivering up our arms we were taken back to
their encampment near the fort, and distributed among the different
tribes.

The next morning they set fire to the fort and left the place, taking
the prisoners with them. Their number of warriors was between four
and five hundred, mostly from the Pottowatomie nation, and their
loss, from the best information I could get, was about fifteen.
Our strength was about fifty-four regulars and twelve militia,
out of which twenty-six regulars and all the militia were killed
in the action, with two women and twelve children. Ensign George
Ronan and Dr. Isaac Van Voorhis of my company, with Captain Wells
of Fort Wayne, to my great sorrow, are numbered among the dead.
Lieutenant Linai T. Helm, with twenty-five non-commissioned officers
and privates and eleven women and children, were prisoners when we
separated.

Mrs. Heald and myself were taken to the mouth of the river St.
Joseph, and, being both badly wounded, were permitted to reside
with Mr. Burnett, an Indian trader. In a few days after our arrival
there, the Indians went off to take Fort Wayne, and in their absence
I engaged a Frenchman to take us to Michilimackinac by water, where
I gave myself up as a prisoner of war, with one of my sergeants. The
commanding officer, Captain Roberts, offered me every assistance
in his power to render our situation comfortable while we remained
there, and to enable us to proceed on our journey. To him I gave my
parole of honor, and came to Detroit and reported myself to Colonel
Proctor, who gave us a passage to Buffalo, from that place I came by
way of Presque-Isle, and arrived here yesterday.

Nathan Heald.

The following letter from Captain Heald, written three years after taking up his residence in Missouri, speaks for itself:

St. Charles, Missouri Territory May 18th, 1820.

Sir:--I had the honor of receiving your letter of the 30th of March,
a few days since. The garrison at Chicago commanded by me at the time
Detroit was surrendered by General Hull, were every man paid up to
the 30th of June, 1812, inclusive, officers' subsistence and forage
included.

The last payment embraced nine months, and was made by myself as
the agent of Mr. Eastman, but I cannot say what the amount was.
Every paper relative to that transaction was soon after lost. I am,
however, confident that there was no deposit with me to pay the
garrison for the three months subsequent to the 30th of June, 1812.

The receipt-rolls which I had taken from Mr. Eastman, together with
the balance of money in my hands, fell into the hands of the Indians
on the 15th of August, 1812, when the troops under my command were
defeated near Chicago; what became of them afterwards I know not. I
have no papers in my possession relative to that garrison, excepting
one muster-roll for the month of May, 1812. By it I find that the
garrison there consisted of one captain, one 2nd lieutenant, one
ensign, one surgeon's mate, four sergeants, two corporals, four
musicians and forty-one privates. I cannot determine what the
strength of the garrison was at any other time during the years 1811
and 1812, but it was on the decline. Monthly returns were regularly
submitted to the Adjutant and Inspector-General's office, at
Washington City, which, I suppose, can be found at any time.

I am respectfully sir, your most obedient servant,

Nathan Heald.

Peter Hagner, Esq., }
3rd Auditor's Office, Treasury }
Department, Washington City. }

* * * * *

This brings up to the mind of every officer the terrors of the
"Auditors of the Treasury." Not victory or defeat, not wounds or
even death--nay, not old Time himself can clear a soldier from the
terrible ordeal of the "Accounting Department." Poor Heald had
evidently been asked: "Where is the money which was in your hands
before the savages surrounded you, slaughtered your troops, wounded
yourself and your wife, massacred the civilians under your care,
tortured to death your wounded and burned your fort?" At the same
time the ordnance bureau doubtless asked what had become of the
arms, ammunition, accoutrements and cooking utensils; the commissary
bureau asked after the stores and the quartermaster's bureau after
the equippage. Scores of thousands of volunteer officers in the Union
war found to their cost that their fighting was the only thing which
the War Department kept no record of; that their account-keeping
and reporting was what must be most carefully looked after if they
would free themselves, their heirs, executors and assigns, from
imperishable obligations. For the government knows no "statute of
limitations"--takes no account of the lapse of time any more than
does Nature in her operations. "Contra regem tempus non occurret."

Yet, paradoxical as it may seem, this is right. If all men were
honest, "red tape" could be done away with; but as men are,
individual accountability is indispensable. Without it, the army
might fall into negligence leading to corruption, instead of being,
as it is, the very example of administrational honor and probity.

* * * * *

It so happens that the death of Mrs. Maria (Heald) Edwards, niece of Captain Nathan Heald and mother of Mrs. General Chetlain, is announced after the above matter had been put in print. She died on May 6, 1893, at the residence of General Chetlain, in this city, at the ripe age of ninety years.

It stirs the heart to think that, almost up to this very day, there was living among us so near a relative to the gallant and unfortunate captain; a woman who was a girl nine years old when her uncle passed through the direful ordeal.