Frances Slocum - Reunion With White Relatives

Reunion With White Relatives

After Ewing found Young Bear he tried to track down her white relatives. He sent a letter to the postmaster in Lancaster, Pennsylvania asking if anyone in the Slocum family had a relative that was taken by Indians about the time of the Revolutionary War. The letter was lost and for two years Ewing heard no response. Then in 1837, Ewing received word from a brother to a Frances Slocum. In the autumn of 1837 two of Frances Slocum's brothers, Isaac and Joseph, journeyed to the Mississinewa River Valley to find out if Young Bear was indeed their long lost sister. The two brothers along with an interpreter traveled to Dead Man's village just outside of Peru, Indiana. After meeting with Young Bear they confirmed that she was their lost sister, especially after Joseph Slocum recognized her disfigured finger resulting from a childhood accident prior to her capture. The brothers were thrilled to see their sister but were somehow shocked by her transformation. She could only speak to them through an interpreter and only spoke when asked a question directly. This could be a cultural trait that the white visitors did not understand or Young Bear could have been afraid she would be forced to go back and live with them. Despite the pleadings of her brothers, Young Bear refused to leave her Native American family. She told them if she returned to her birthplace she would be "like a fish out of water."

Read more about this topic:  Frances Slocum

Famous quotes containing the words white and/or relatives:

    There has fallen a splendid tear
    From the passion-flower at the gate.
    She is coming, my dove, my dear;
    She is coming, my life, my fate;
    The red rose cries, ‘She is near, she is near;’
    And the white rose weeps, ‘She is late;’
    The larkspur listens, ‘I hear, I hear;’
    And the lily whispers, ‘I wait.’
    Alfred Tennyson (1809–1892)

    When our relatives are at home, we have to think of all their good points or it would be impossible to endure them. But when they are away, we console ourselves for their absence by dwelling on their vices.
    George Bernard Shaw (1856–1950)