History of Green County, Wisconsin. Together with Sketches of its Towns and Villages, Educational, Civil, Military, and Political History; Portraits of Prominent Persons and Biographies of Representative Citizens

              HISTORY OF GREEN COUNTY.
121
Mrs. Coasm Cherrier {nee Gagnier.)\ My father was born in St. Louis ; he came to Prairie du Chien about the time of the last war with England.
My mother Theresa Chalefau, was born in Prairie du Chien ; her father came to Prairie du Chien from Canada, before the last war with England.
I was born in this place (now called French Town) Aug. 15, 1826. The following spring my father moved his family to a house on what is now known as the Ackerly place, a short dis¬ tance below the limits of "Lower Town. The house had only one room. It was there that the murder of father and Ijipcap, and the terrible mutilation of myself occurred.
I will tell the story as learned from my mother. June 10, 1827, my father visited the village of Prairie du Chien ; the afternoon of that day mother noticed there were skulking Indians on the bluff east of the house, partially concealed, and being accustomed to seeing In¬ dians almost daily, was not alarmed. Father did not return home until about noon of the next day, (June 11). He was accompanied by his half brother. Paschal Menoir, after dinner the family consisting of father, mother, Lipcap (an old man living with us) my brother Frank, three years old, myself, nearly ten months old, and Paschal Menoir (visitor), were having an after dinner chat. Young Menoir was sitting in the open window on the west side of the house, facing the door. My father was sitting on a trunk against the wall, to the right of the window, and also facing the door. My mother had returned to the work of the day, family washing. My brother Frank was amusing himself.    Lipcap  had gone to his work in the
tThe autobiographical account which follows was taken from the lips of Louisa Cherrier {nee Gagnier) wife of Coasm (usually known as Comb) Cherrier. Mr. Cherrier, wife and children, reside in what is usually known as ' 'French Town," in the town of Prairie du Chien. What Mrs. Cherrier relates is the story often told her by her mother, Theresa Gagnier, wife of Rijeste Gagnier. It will be noticed that the narra¬ tive differs in some important particulars from that given previously in this chapter ; but there are so many additional and exceedingly interesting statements that, in the main, are doubtless correct, as to justify the' insertion of this re¬ lation as a sequel to the so-called ' 'Winnebago War."
corn patch not very far from the house. I had creeped to my father's feet and lifted myself by his clothing, and was standing with my hands on his knees. At this moment four Indians, who had reached the door unnoticed, entered the room. Mother placed four chairs and bade them be seated; they complied, the table being as left. Mother asked them to have dinner; they replied : ''We are not hungry, but thirsty." She satisfied their wants, and watching them closely, she said to father in French : "These Indians mean to do us some harm." Father made no reply. My father's gun was hanging in fastenings to a joist directly overhead ; three of the Indians had guns in their hands, the fourth, a chief, whose Indian name signified "•'Little Sun," was seated the nearest to my father, with his side toward him. This Indian had, unknown to the family, a shorter gun con-, cealed under his blanket, and it was held in such a position as to bring my father in range. One of the other Indians left his chair, and took down my father's gun. Father instantly rose, seized and wrenched the gun from him, and stood it by the trunk, then both were seated again. My father spoke to mother, saying : "Come take this little girl." At this moment, at a signal from one of the other Indians, "Lit¬ tle Sun" fired his concealed gun, the bullet en¬ tering the right breast of my father, who had not changed his position. At almost the same instant another Indian shot his gun at Paschal Menoir, who was still sitting in the window, but missed him. Young Menoir, with great presence of mind, fell backward, through the window. He was undoubtedly supposed by the Indians to have been killed, and was not imme¬ diately looked after. He made his escape into the timber, which stood close up to that side of the house. *
The house was filled with powder smoke ; my little brother was crying and calling for mother. Mother picked him up and ran out of the house. The Indians had preceded her, and leaped over the fence near the house.    Mother,