Box 5, Folder 5: Julia Lapham Correspondence, 1914-1919

Milwaukee, Wis. Feb. 19, 1914.

Miss Julia A. Lapham, 114 Worthington St., Oconomowoc, Wis.

My dear Miss Lapham:

I have your favor of the 13th instant before me with the inclosure as stated. I have read the manuscript with considerable interest which you so kindly submitted for my opinion. I am thinking, however, that you are in a better position to determine who the author of the manuscript may be than I am.

If I were to venture a guess-and guesses, you know, are quite harmless-I should say that the writer of the document may have been a mere amanuensis of the person who prosecuted the journey overland from Green Bay, Lake Winnebago and "the River Millewackie" to Chicago. I should guess the writer was a woman and the traveler was undoubtedly a real man.

But that does not get very far with the question you are seeking an answer for. There is not much in the document to assist one to a clew. Perhaps, some of the descendents of Morgan L. Martin, late of Green Bay, might aid you in finding out the author or the traveler or both. Possibly, it would be well to have it published in connection with the State Historical Society's collections. But these are mere suggestions. You may have a better plan in mind. I wish I might be of more help to you but I cannot.

I return the document herewith,

Very truly yours,

Duane Mauvey

After a short stay at Green Bay, I made arrangements with a Fals Avoins chief to conduct me as a guide to the Winnebago Lake; from whence it was my determination to proceed on foot through the wilderness, to Chicago. At midday of the 22d of September I took leave of Major Taylor and the officers of the 3d Regiment, who had most kindly entertained me.

I likewise took a reluctant leave of my excellent companion Wm Pierce. For the residue of the day my course lay on the left bank of the river, through good lands and a growth of oak. I passed two Springs strongly impregnated with Sulphur, and at night stopped at a rapid of the river called the Kakalin being the last house and the last whites I expected to see for the distance of 250 miles. On the 23d I entered the wilderness, attended by my Indian guide and a soldier of the 3d Regiment, who led a pack horse loaded with provision and presents for the natives. We forded the Fox river, and losing sight of it proceeded in a westwardly direction; at first through a small Indian path, and, on that failing us, through a wilderness entirely trackless.

The journey of this day was painful and uninteresting. The thickness of the forest rendered marching difficult and almost entirely impeded the horse; but for exertions in assisting him over crags and cutting away branches and saplings with our tomahawks should have been obliged to abandon him. The land was broken with hillocks and masses of rock. The growth of timber indicated a cold soil, notwithstand= ing which we occasionally saw the Sugar Maple. At the 24th we resumed our march, extremely chilled.

The thickness of the forest prevented the rays of the sun from coming to the earth, and during the previous night the guide had obliged us to keep small fires from fear of the Winnegaboes, who were about us, and from whom there is always cause for apprehension.

After a toilsome march of 8 or 9 hours, we arrived abruptly at the shores of a circular Lake, which I found to be Lake Winnebago. I never experienced a more grate= ful transition than from the damp and tangled wood, to the sunny margin of this beautiful water. It is nearly round, and apparently about 60 miles in circumference.

For a short time we walked upon the beach, but finding it too narrow, were again obliged to resort to our uncomfortable way through the thicket. While upon the beach, I remarked that the number of primitive rocks was unusual for this region. Granite micaceaus schistus, quartz pebbles, and trap ^ well mixed with unequal proportions of secondary limestone.

My intention was to reach an Indian village, said to be on the southern shore of the Lake. Having journeyed all day, and slept in the same manner as the previous night, we resumed our march on the morning of the 25th.

Amelioration of the grounds, a few foot paths and traces of habitation, denoted that we were near the object of our destination, and, shortly afterwards, in passing from a wood, we saw it at a distance. It was a village of Fals Avoins, situated on the edge of a prairie which borders Lake Winnebago. The lake lay before it on one side, and on the other the Prairie, rising with a gentle acclivity from the margin of the water. The spot was well chosen for beauty, warmth, and fertility. There was nothing about it that indicated a recent commencement.

The grounds bore marks of long cultivation, and the few trees that were left standing, seemed as if dis= =tributed for ornament and shade. The village has received the name of Calumet; it consists of about 150 souls, and has rarely been visited by whites, except a few voyageurs, on their way to Wisconsin. At our approach, the villagers poured from their cabins and gave a general shout, from the unwonted sight (as supposed) of a white.

[Tomay?], the guide, was received with kindness, and his introduction procured what I supposed to be the same for myself. But as their unrelaxing features, coldness and taciturnity, would indicate anything rather than courtesy, it required the fullest conviction both of his and their intentions to enable me to place such civility to its proper account. — I seated myself on the grass, and was surrounded by the whole population of Calumet, the men eyeing me with contemptuous indifference, the females and children with a restless and obtrusive curiosity.

The distribution of tobacco among the former, and ver= =million, salt, thread, and needles among the latter, led to a better understanding and a reciprocity of good offices.

Tomay was to leave me at this place after furnishing