2-14 The Story of Deer Heart and Yellow Flower

April 12, 2014

Law Park, Lake Monona

Madison, WI

“On the bank of the Third Lake, near where the Lake House in Madison now stands, our advance guard killed an Indian, who, the Winnebago Indian before alluded to, informed us was sitting upon the grave of his wife, who had perhaps died of fatigue, hunger, and exhaustion, and her disconsolate companion had resolved to await the advancing foe, and die there also; and he boldly bared his naked breast , and presented a full front, as a willing target for the balls of the scouts. He but too soon met the death he coveted.”

These words, written in 1856 by Captain Daniel M. Parkinson, a participant in the Black Hawk Conflict of 1832, spoke of the first Indian warrior killed by direct contact during the final chase across the territory by the troops under the command of Generals Dodge and Henry.

There are many accounts of this murder.  Some details vary with the teller but all agree on the same, basic theme.  The killing was unnecessary, given the circumstances.  Not one account describes the warrior as threatening in any way, only as an abject and broken man.  Most express regret, even if only to be followed by the justification of extenuating circumstances.

Parkinson continues his recollections, “This may be thought to have been cruel on the part of the scouts; but it will be recollected that our motto was, ‘no quarter’, and besides, in such an exciting pursuit, there was little time to deliberate as to their course of action in such a case, even had they been aware of the attending circumstances.”

No quarter.  “Our motto was ‘no quarter’.”  This is a military expression, and for those unfamiliar with the term, it has the same general meaning as ‘take no prisoners’, which is another way of saying their intent was to kill every living human being they pursued, be they man, woman or child.  It would be easy to be persuaded by the plaintive words of the soldiers, explaining that they were scarcely provisioned themselves, that they had been marching for days through heavy rains through the most extreme conditions, and that they were under extermination orders issued by the U.S. Government - that they had no time to think, only to react.  I am not persuaded.  This was an act of hate, brought on by mob mentality.  Worse, it was an act of indifference, where in their minds the very act of murder itself was no more than the culling of a wild animal.  There are two more details about this act of murder which bring to light the shameful character in which it was carried out. I will quote from three additional recollections of this event.

Major John A Wakefield

“We had marched not more than five miles, before Doctor [Addison] Philleo came back, meeting us, with the scalp of an Indian.  He had been on ahead with the front scouts, and came on this Indian who had been left as a rear guard to watch our movements.”  [Please note that this assertion is untrue.  He was not left as a 'rear guard'  – several accounts confirm that the Indian was found sitting on the grave of his wife, who had died from the chase.]  “There were several shots fired at him about the same time, and I suppose all hit him, from the number of bullet holes that were in him; but Doctor Philleo scalped him, so he was called Philleo’s Indian; which reminds me of the hunters:  He who draws first blood is entitled to the skin, and the remainder of the carcass, if there are several in the chase; which was the case at this time.”  -  Major John A Wakefield

“In a few minutes the shot was explained by the appearance of the regimental surgeon [Philleo] bearing in his hand a trophy in the shape of a fresh Indian scalp, reeking with blood.” … “Seeing the Indian fall, he rushed from cover, and, gaining possession of his tomahawk and scalping-knife, began to rend the scalp from the head. The pain partially revived the victim, which elicited from the surgeon the following, ‘If you don’t like being scalped with a dull knife, why didn’t you keep a better one?’”  -  Lieutenant Magoon

This is but one of the two atrocities in this murder.  Here was a despondent man, sitting upon the grave of his wife, whom he had just buried, and who had chosen death rather than a life that continued without her.  After being shot by numerous soldiers, only one of whom was brave enough years later to recount how the warrior had bared his chest to the muskets, this surgeon rushed forward to claim the first scalp.  Grabbing the man’s own knife, which had been dulled by digging for roots and cutting bark from the trees to eat, as well as by digging the grave of his wife, he was scalped while still breathing, and then mocked and tormented while he died.

The second atrocity can only be understood by carefully reading the statement of Professor C. B. Chapman, written in 1859. In his account he states, “When they arrived at this point … an Indian was seen coming up from the water’s edge, near the present watering place, below the Lake House, who seated himself upon the bank apparently indifferent to his fate.  In a moment after, his body was pierced by several balls, one of which passed in at the temple and out at the back part of his head.  From Mr. [Abel] Rasdell’s description of the position of the wound, I have little doubt that the skull of this Indian is now in my possession.  He said the Indian proved to have been seated upon a grave, where he probably seated himself with the heroic intention of ending his days upon the grave of some dear friend or kindred.”  … “The Indian was seated with his back partly towards the party, and was turning, apparently to look at them, when he received the shot.”

The words of the Professor slip by so quickly that it would be easy to miss the fact that at some point after the murder of this man, his head was separated from his body, the flesh boiled away, and the shot-damaged skull found its way to the curio collection of some college professor.  I cannot begin to share the outrage I feel at this desecration of a human being.

The location of these events is easy to find, even today.  The historic documents include the names of streets, businesses and buildings, and call out in detail the exact spot where the murder took place.   I spent many hours researching the exact location, reading accounts, studying old plat maps, City Directories and photos of historic Madison.  I am confident that had I stood on this very spot in 1832, I would have been an eye-witness.  I stood on the shore of Lake Monona, on a tiny spit of green space at the very end of Law Park, near where Williamson Street joins John Nolan Drive.  The sky was gray, the rain threatening to fall, as it had been on and off through the whole day.  I stood, eyes closed, feeling the damp wind on my face and listening to the birds and the water.  When I opened them, I found that I was staring at a small Cedar tree along the shore, and I chose the lee of that sacred tree as the site for our ceremony.

My husband prepared a small ceremonial fire and beat the drum, as we joined our voices, singing songs to the spirits of these two lovers who had been so tragically misused, leaving behind a prayer stick to send our thoughts of love and peace.  As we sang, a mated pair of mallard ducks came swimming up and walked up onto the shore to sit within a few yards of us.  Everything felt completely at peace.  When the fire burned out, we gave the ashes to the lake.

Courageous Warrior – A year ago I had a dream, where an Indian Warrior came to me, handing me a letter.  He said it was from his wife.  I opened the letter, but I could not read the words, for they were written in a language I did not know.  Even so, as I held the letter, the meaning became clear to me.  It said, 'Thank you for bringing my husband back to me.'  Only then did I see the symbol on the page.  I asked the warrior what it was, and he told me, 'It is a gift to you from my wife'.  Puzzled, I looked closely at the symbol, as it grew larger in my mind's eye.  It was the shape of a heart, and in the upper left corner, in the center of the lobe, was the shape of a deer, colored as if by a rainbow.

I awoke with this symbol in my mind, though I did not understand it's meaning.  When I read your story, I finally understood all.  The heart was the symbol of love, and the deer in the corner was you.  The message was sent from your wife, who now held your hand again in the next world.  The symbol was a gift to me, telling me that I must cherish my mate - my beloved - every day, because even in death, it is possible to be separated for a time. 

Courageous Warrior - I never learned the name you used in life, but I know who you are because you came to me in a dream and shared with me the story of your love.  To honor your death, and your life, I will call you Deer Heart, so that I may remember you, and those that hear of your story may have a name to remember you by.

At the start of my journey, I was given a feather from the head of a Pileated Woodpecker.  This feather now sits inside a tiny carrying pouch, which was made from a piece of deerskin cut into the shape of a heart.  Where the rainbow-colored deer was in my dream I beaded a small yellow trillium. This talisman now rests inside my amulet bag, which hangs around my neck and sits above my heart even as I write.  I never learned the name your wife used in life, but I know who she is because she gave me a gift which I now carry with me.  To honor her death, and her life, I will call her Yellow Flower, so that I may remember her, and those that hear of her story may have a name to remember her by.

Deer Heart and Yellow Flower – We call to your spirits and thank you for sharing your story with us.  The smoke from our fire carries our prayers to you.  We cried when we heard your story, but we feel joy now as we watch the ducks preening themselves.  They are at peace in this beautiful place.  We pray that your spirits are also at peace, and that you have found happiness together in the next world.  We pray that you will always be at peace, and will give comfort and solace to those who sit in this place.  Come with us, Deer Heart and Yellow Flower, guide us as we follow the trail of your people.  Celebrate with us when we finish walking the trail of sorrow and take the joyful Journey Home - to Saukenuk.  Ah-ho.

Return to Table of Contents

(Key Terms: Ma-Ka-Tai-Me-She-Kia-Kiak, Black Sparrow Hawk, Black Hawk, 1767, Saukenuk, Pyesa, Rock Island, Black Hawk’s Watch Tower, Black Hawk State Historic Site, Hauberg Museum, Sauk, Sac, Meskwaki, Fox, Rock River, Sinnissippi River, Mississippi River, War of 1812, British Band, Great Britain, Treaty of 1804, Treaties, Ceded Land, William Henry Harrison, Quashquame, Keokuk, Fort Armstrong, Samuel Whiteside, Black Hawk War of 1832, Black Hawk Conflict, Scalp, Great Sauk Trail, Black Hawk Trail, Prophetstown, Wabokieshiek, White Cloud, The Winnebago Prophet, Ne-o-po-pe, Dixon’s Ferry, Isaiah Stillman, The Battle of Stillman’s Run, Old Man’s Creek, Sycamore Creek, Abraham Lincoln, Chief Shabbona, Felix St. Vrain, Lake Koshkonong, Fort Koshkonong, Fort Atkinson, Henry Atkinson, Andrew Jackson, Lewis Cass, Winfield Scott, Chief Black Wolf, Henry Dodge, James Henry, White Crow, Rock River Rapids, The Four Lakes, Battle of Wisconsin Heights, Benjamin Franklin Smith, Wisconsin River, Kickapoo River, Soldier’s Grove, Steamboat Warrior, Steamship Warrior, Fort Crawford, Battle of Bad Axe, Bad Axe Massacre, Joseph M. Street, Antoine LeClaire, Native American, Indian, Michigan Territory, Indiana Territory, Louisiana Territory, Osage, Souix, Potawatomi, Ojibwe, Ottawa, Ho-Chunk)