Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1877-05-10
The Story of an Old Oak in Washing
ton, ID. Z.


It was the Chief of the Anacostas, Mon
nacasset, who had perched his tent upon
this height beneath this oak. 1t was then
as it is to-day, the site which commands
the entire amphitheater Of vale and river,
wood and hill. From it he could look
down on the basin of forest in which his
tribe dwelt. Here its councils were held.
Here many a stricken white captive Of
fered his last prayer 10 God. One day
Monnacasset and a few Of his braves sur
prised small party of emigrants down
below yender, on the banks of the Poto-
mac. Among the number was MIR.
Moves, his wife and two young children,
one an infant. Mrs. Moves, though worn
by travel and now smitten by sorrow, was
Young and beautiful. Her pitiful en-
treaties for her husband and children at
tracted the attention of the Chief, and he
at once announced his intention of spar
ing her life and making her his squaw.
At this announcement Mrs. Noyes faint
ed, and in an unconscious state was con-
yeyed, with the other prisoners, to the
Chiefs wigwam, under this oak. When
she returned to conscious life she found
herself with her child alone in his hut.
She arose To leave it, but was met at the
door by Monnacasset, who forbade her
stepping beyond its door. She called for
her husband and elder child. The Chief
told her that her husband and child, with
the other prisoners he had taken, had the
night before entered the kingdom of the
Great Spirit and that he and his tribe had
celebrated their entrance therein by
scalp-dance. Before the Chief finished
his story Mrs. Noyes again lay senseless
at his feet The Chief laid her gently
upon fur pallet in the hut, and sent
medicine women to revive her. When
she returned once more to consciousness
Monnacasset told her that if she would
consent to be his squaw she should be for
ever tree to roam about with the other
women of the tribe. She told him she
would rather die then to suffer such ignO-
mlny.
Strange to say, the Chief did not con-
clude to take her life. He said: 80 You
do not choose 20 be my squaw; then |
choose TO keep you a prisoner. You shall
not, under pain of death, wander beyond
the shade of this oak, which overspreads
this hut" Two Indian women were APP
pointed to provide her food and clothing
and to be her constant guards. 1t could
have been no ordinary feeling that she
awakened in the heart of her captor, else
he would have put her to death before he
would have seen her daily before his eyes,
year on year, his captive, yet ever beyond
his reach. For eleven years she walked
beneath the shadow Of this oak, yet never
went beyond it.
Her baby meanwhile had grown to be
beautiful girl, whom her mother called
Gwawa, or Hope. Little GWawa had but
one playmate, a little boy with eyes as
blue as the sky, whom the Indians called
Tschagarag (okyiness). This child bad
been captured two years after Mrs. NOyes,
but had escaped the terrible fate of his
comrades because of the particular fancy
the Indian children had for him. The
Indian children Lad no fancy for Gwawa.
Tschagarag was her only friend He
often went to her mothers hut to play
with her, and together they received in
structIons from Mrs. Noyes.
Monnacasset and his tribe were not so
successful in their marauding expeditions
as formerly, on account of the increase
and constant watChtulness of the sur
rounding settlers. When Mrs. Noyes
had been a prisoner little more than
eleven years, Monnacasset was MORALLY
wounded in skirmish on the mall Just
above where the Executive Mansion now
stands. He was carried to his wigwam,
wounded beyond the power of the medi-
cine women to help him. Mrs. Moves
and little Gwawa ministered to him in
his dying moments, for though a savage
he had not been TO them an altogether
ungenerous foe. Upon the turf beneath
this oak he died, and here he was buried.
Not long after his death the site of the
present City of Washington was bought
by George Washington and others, and a
treaty was maze with the few remaining
Anacostas to leave these haunts and to
move westward. This treaty was made
beneath this oak, where Monnacasset died,
and whose branches for so many years had
measured the length of Mrs. Noyes' cap
tivity. Here, for the first time since her
separation from her husband, she was al
lowed to speak with white men, and,
through the transactions of the treaty,
acted as interpreter. Several gentlemen
offered her home. But she would ac-
cept but one proposition, that made by a
MIR. Cochran, that he should build for her
a small house under the branches of her
prison oak.
The tribe departed to their westward
hunting ground, carrying with them the
young, blue-eyed Tschagarag. The little
house was builded beneath the oak A
faithful negro, given to Mrs. Moves by a
DCCdlilG uGE only
reliance for support. He worked and sup
Piled her wants, as so many another negro
mas done in the eras now forever past. A
city began to grow in the broad, green
basin spread before her. Commissioners
were appointed to select sites for public
buildings. This magnificent height was
chosen Tor the future Capitol But so in
tense was Mrs. Moves attachment to her
home and to the green dome above it, she
was left undisturbed, and the Hip
where the Capitol now stands was chosen
for it. At the foot of this hill we see an
old cemetery, the oldest one in Washing
ton. 1t is called Holmead's burying
ground" Here were all the Indian
mounds, and here still may be seen the
ancient graves of the Anacostas.
The nineteenth century had come with
its vast promise for the future. Time had
touched her gently, yet Mrs. Noyes began
to show that she was passing into the
evening shadow. Her auburn hair had
turned gray, and her face showed traces
of years as well as sorrow One Sabbath
day well-dressed, blue-eyed young man
knocked at Mrs. Moves; door. "Does
Mrs. Noyes live here p" he inquired.
Tschagarag! 1t is your exclaimed
Gwawa. She knew him, though in the
years that had passed since their parting
they had changed from children into man
and woman. Tschagarag soon told them
all the story of his life since he left them.
he had gone with the Anacostas as far
as the Ohio River. While encamped
there, some traders had taken him pris-
oner and brought him to New York.
There he was educated and studied archi
lecture. He lad lately received an APP
pointment as assistant architect on one of
the public buildings then erecting in