CHAPTER XVI.

1763.

MICHILLIMACKINAC.

In the spring of the year 1763, before the war broke out, several English

traders went up to Michillimackinac, some adopting the old route of the

Ottawa, and others that of Detroit and the lakes. We will follow one of

the latter on his adventurous progress. Passing the fort and settlement of

Detroit, he soon enters Lake St. Clair, which seems like a broad basin

filled to overflowing, while, along its far distant verge, a faint line of

forest separates the water from the sky. He crosses the lake, and his

voyageurs next urge his canoe against the current of the great river

above. At length, Lake Huron opens before him, stretching its liquid

expanse, like an ocean, to the farthest horizon. His canoe skirts the

eastern shore of Michigan, where the forest rises like a wall from the

water's edge; and as he advances northward, an endless line of stiff and

shaggy fir-trees, hung with long mosses, fringes the shore with an aspect

of monotonous desolation. In the space of two or three weeks, if his

Canadians labor well, and no accident occur, the trader approaches the end

of his voyage. Passing on his right the extensive Island of Bois Blanc, he

sees, nearly in front, the beautiful Mackinaw, rising, with its white

cliffs and green foliage, from the broad breast of the waters. He does not

steer towards it, for at that day the Indians were its only tenants, but

keeps along the main shore to the left, while his voyageurs raise their

song and chorus. Doubling a point, he sees before him the red flag of

England swelling lazily in the wind, and the palisades and wooden bastions

of Fort Michillimackinac standing close upon the margin of the lake. On

the beach, canoes are drawn up, and Canadians and Indians are idly

lounging. A little beyond the fort is a cluster of the white Canadian

houses, roofed with bark, and protected by fences of strong round pickets.

The trader enters at the gate, and sees before him an extensive square

area, surrounded by high palisades. Numerous houses, barracks, and other

buildings, form a smaller square within, and in the vacant space which

they enclose appear the red uniforms of British soldiers, the gray coats

of Canadians, and the gaudy Indian blankets, mingled in picturesque

confusion; while a multitude of squaws, with children of every hue, stroll

restlessly about the place. Such was Fort Michillimackinac in 1763.[254]

Its name, which, in the Algonquin tongue, signifies the Great Turtle, was

first, from a fancied resemblance, applied to the neighboring island, and

thence to the fort.

Though buried in a wilderness, Michillimackinac was still of no recent

origin. As early as 1671, the Jesuits had established a mission near the

place, and a military force was not long in following; for, under the

French dominion, the priest and the soldier went hand in hand. Neither

toil, nor suffering, nor all the terrors of the wilderness, could damp the

zeal of the undaunted missionary; and the restless ambition of France was

always on the alert to seize every point of vantage, and avail itself of

every means to gain ascendency over the forest tribes. Besides

Michillimackinac, there were two other posts in this northern region,

Green Bay, and the Sault Ste. Marie. Both were founded at an early period,

and both presented the same characteristic features--a mission-house, a

fort, and a cluster of Canadian dwellings. They had been originally

garrisoned by small parties of militia, who, bringing their families with

them, settled on the spot, and were founders of these little colonies.

Michillimackinac, much the largest of the three, contained thirty families

within the palisades of the fort, and about as many more without. Besides

its military value, it was important as a centre of the fur-trade; for it

was here that the traders engaged their men, and sent out their goods in

canoes, under the charge of subordinates, to the more distant regions of

the Mississippi and the North-west.

During the greater part of the year, the garrison and the settlers were

completely isolated--cut off from all connection with the world; and,

indeed, so great was the distance, and so serious the perils, which

separated the three sister posts of the northern lakes, that often,

through the whole winter, all intercourse was stopped between them.[255]

It is difficult for the imagination adequately to conceive the extent of

these fresh-water oceans, and vast regions of forest, which, at the date

of our narrative, were the domain of nature, a mighty hunting and fishing

ground, for the sustenance of a few wandering tribes. One might journey

among them for days, and even weeks together, without beholding a human

face. The Indians near Michillimackinac were the Ojibwas and Ottawas, the

former of whom claimed the eastern section of Michigan, and the latter the

western, their respective portions being separated by a line drawn

southward from the fort itself.[256] The principal village of the Ojibwas

contained about a hundred warriors, and stood upon the Island of

Michillimackinac, now called Mackinaw. There was another smaller village

near the head of Thunder Bay. The Ottawas, to the number of two hundred

and fifty warriors, lived at the settlement of L'Arbre Croche, on the

shores of Lake Michigan, some distance west of the fort. This place was

then the seat of the old Jesuit mission of St. Ignace, originally placed,

by Father Marquette, on the northern side of the straits. Many of the

Ottawas were nominal Catholics. They were all somewhat improved from their

original savage condition, living in log houses, and cultivating corn and

vegetables to such an extent as to supply the fort with provisions,

besides satisfying their own wants. The Ojibwas, on the other hand, were

not in the least degree removed from their primitive barbarism.[257]

These two tribes, with most of the other neighboring Indians, were

strongly hostile to the English. Many of their warriors had fought against

them in the late war, for France had summoned allies from the farthest

corners of the wilderness, to aid her in her struggle. This feeling of

hostility was excited to a higher pitch by the influence of the Canadians,

who disliked the English, not merely as national enemies, but also as

rivals in the fur-trade, and were extremely jealous of their intrusion

upon the lakes. The following incidents, which occurred in the autumn of

the year 1761, will illustrate the state of feeling which prevailed:--

At that time, although Michillimackinac had been surrendered, and the

French garrison removed, no English troops had yet arrived to supply their

place, and the Canadians were the only tenants of the fort. An adventurous

trader, Alexander Henry, who, with one or two others, was the pioneer of

the English fur-trade in this region, came to Michillimackinac by the

route of the Ottawa. On the way, he was several times warned to turn back,

and assured of death if he proceeded; and, at length, was compelled for

safety to assume the disguise of a Canadian voyageur. When his canoes,

laden with goods, reached the fort, he was very coldly received by its

inhabitants, who did all in their power to alarm and discourage him. Soon

after his arrival, he received the very unwelcome information, that a

large number of Ojibwas, from the neighboring villages, were coming, in

their canoes, to call upon him. Under ordinary circumstances, such a

visitation, though disagreeable enough, would excite neither anxiety nor

surprise; for the Indians, when in their villages, lead so monotonous an

existence, that they are ready to snatch at the least occasion of

excitement, and the prospect of a few trifling presents, and a few pipes

of tobacco, is often a sufficient inducement for a journey of several

days. But in the present instance there was serious cause of apprehension,

since Canadians and Frenchmen were alike hostile to the solitary trader.

The story could not be better told than in his own words.

"At two o'clock in the afternoon, the Chippewas (Ojibwas) came to the

house, about sixty in number, and headed by Minavavana, their chief. They

walked in single file, each with his tomahawk in one hand and

scalping-knife in the other. Their bodies were naked from the waist

upward, except in a few examples, where blankets were thrown loosely over

the shoulders. Their faces were painted with charcoal, worked up with

grease, their bodies with white clay, in patterns of various fancies. Some

had feathers thrust through their noses, and their heads decorated with

the same. It is unnecessary to dwell on the sensations with which I beheld

the approach of this uncouth, if not frightful assemblage.

"The chief entered first, and the rest followed without noise. On

receiving a sign from the former, the latter seated themselves on the

floor.

"Minavavana appeared to be about fifty years of age. He was six feet in

height, and had in his countenance an indescribable mixture of good and

evil. Looking steadfastly at me, where I sat in ceremony, with an

interpreter on either hand, and several Canadians behind me, he entered,

at the same time, into conversation with Campion, inquiring how long it

was since I left Montreal, and observing that the English, as it would

seem, were brave men, and not afraid of death, since they dared to come,

as I had done, fearlessly among their enemies.

"The Indians now gravely smoked their pipes, while I inwardly endured the

tortures of suspense. At length, the pipes being finished, as well as a

long pause, by which they were succeeded, Minavavana, taking a few strings

of wampum in his hand, began the following speech:--

"'Englishman, it is to you that I speak, and I demand your attention.

"'Englishman, you know that the French King is our father. He promised to

be such; and we, in return, promised to be his children. This promise we

have kept.

"'Englishman, it is you that have made war with this our father. You are

his enemy; and how, then, could you have the boldness to venture among us,

his children? You know that his enemies are ours.

"'Englishman, we are informed that our father, the King of France, is old

and infirm; and that, being fatigued with making war upon your nation, he

is fallen asleep. During his sleep you have taken advantage of him, and

possessed yourselves of Canada. But his nap is almost at an end. I think I

hear him already stirring, and inquiring for his children, the Indians;

and when he does awake, what must become of you? He will destroy you

utterly.

"'Englishman, although you have conquered the French, you have not yet

conquered us. We are not your slaves. These lakes, these woods and

mountains, were left to us by our ancestors. They are our inheritance; and

we will part with them to none. Your nation supposes that we, like the

white people, cannot live without bread, and pork, and beef! But you

ought to know that He, the Great Spirit and Master of Life, has provided

food for us in these spacious lakes, and on these woody mountains.

"'Englishman, our father, the King of France, employed our young men to

make war upon your nation. In this warfare many of them have been killed;

and it is our custom to retaliate until such time as the spirits of the

slain are satisfied. But the spirits of the slain are to be satisfied in

either of two ways; the first is by the spilling of the blood of the

nation by which they fell; the other, by _covering the bodies of the

dead_, and thus allaying the resentment of their relations. This is done

by making presents.

"'Englishman, your king has never sent us any presents, nor entered into

any treaty with us; wherefore he and we are still at war; and, until he

does these things, we must consider that we have no other father nor

friend, among the white men, than the King of France; but for you, we have

taken into consideration that you have ventured your life among us, in the

expectation that we should not molest you. You do not come armed, with an

intention to make war; you come in peace, to trade with us, and supply us

with necessaries, of which we are in much want. We shall regard you,

therefore, as a brother; and you may sleep tranquilly, without fear of the

Chippewas. As a token of our friendship, we present you this pipe to

smoke.'

"As Minavavana uttered these words, an Indian presented me with a pipe,

which, after I had drawn the smoke three times, was carried to the chief,

and after him to every person in the room. This ceremony ended, the chief

arose, and gave me his hand, in which he was followed by all the

rest."[258]

These tokens of friendship were suitably acknowledged by the trader, who

made a formal reply to Minavavana's speech. To this succeeded a request

for whiskey on the part of the Indians, with which Henry unwillingly

complied; and, having distributed several small additional presents, he

beheld, with profound satisfaction, the departure of his guests. Scarcely

had he ceased to congratulate himself on having thus got rid of the

Ojibwas, or, as he calls them, the Chippewas, when a more formidable

invasion once more menaced him with destruction. Two hundred L'Arbre

Croche Ottawas came in a body to the fort, and summoned Henry, together

with Goddard and Solomons, two other traders, who had just arrived, to

meet them in council. Here they informed their startled auditors that they

must distribute their goods among the Indians, adding a worthless promise

to pay them in the spring, and threatening force in case of a refusal.

Being allowed until the next morning to reflect on what they had heard,

the traders resolved on resistance, and, accordingly, arming about thirty

of their men with muskets, they barricaded themselves in the house

occupied by Henry, and kept strict watch all night. The Ottawas, however,

did not venture an attack. On the following day, the Canadians, with

pretended sympathy, strongly advised compliance with the demand; but the

three traders resolutely held out, and kept possession of their stronghold

till night, when, to their surprise and joy, the news arrived that the

body of troops known to be on their way towards the fort were, at that

moment, encamped within a few miles of it. Another night of watching and

anxiety succeeded; but at sunrise, the Ottawas launched their canoes and

departed, while, immediately after, the boats of the English detachment

were seen to approach the landing-place. Michillimackinac received a

strong garrison; and for a time, at least, the traders were safe.

Time passed on, and the hostile feelings of the Indians towards the

English did not diminish. It necessarily follows, from the extremely loose

character of Indian government,--if indeed the name government be

applicable at all,--that the separate members of the same tribe have

little political connection, and are often united merely by the social tie

of totemship. Thus the Ottawas at L'Arbre Croche were quite independent of

those at Detroit. They had a chief of their own, who by no means

acknowledged the authority of Pontiac, though the high reputation of this

great warrior everywhere attached respect and influence to his name. The

same relations subsisted between the Ojibwas of Michillimackinac and their

more southern tribesmen; and the latter might declare war and make peace

without at all involving the former.

The name of the Ottawa chief at L'Arbre Croche has not survived in history

or tradition. The chief of the Ojibwas, however, is still remembered by

the remnants of his people, and was the same whom Henry calls Minavavana,

or, as the Canadians entitled him, by way of distinction, _Le Grand

Sauteur_, or the Great Ojibwa. He lived in the little village of Thunder

Bay, though his power was acknowledged by the Indians of the neighboring

islands. That his mind was of no common order is sufficiently evinced by

his speech to Henry; but he had not the commanding spirit of Pontiac. His

influence seems not to have extended beyond his own tribe. He could not,

or at least he did not, control the erratic forces of an Indian community,

and turn them into one broad current of steady and united energy. Hence,

in the events about to be described, the natural instability of the Indian

character was abundantly displayed.

In the spring of the year 1763, Pontiac, in compassing his grand scheme of

hostility, sent, among the rest, to the Indians of Michillimackinac,

inviting them to aid him in the war. His messengers, bearing in their

hands the war-belt of black and purple wampum, appeared before the

assembled warriors, flung at their feet a hatchet painted red, and

delivered the speech with which they had been charged. The warlike

auditory answered with ejaculations of applause, and, taking up the

blood-red hatchet, pledged themselves to join in the contest. Before the

end of May, news reached the Ojibwas that Pontiac had already struck the

English at Detroit. This wrought them up to a high pitch of excitement and

emulation, and they resolved that peace should last no longer. Their

numbers were at this time more than doubled by several bands of their

wandering people, who had gathered at Michillimackinac from far and near,

attracted probably by rumors of impending war. Being, perhaps, jealous of

the Ottawas, or willing to gain all the glory and plunder to themselves,

they determined to attack the fort, without communicating the design to

their neighbors of L'Arbre Croche.

At this time there were about thirty-five men, with their officers, in

garrison at Michillimackinac.[259] Warning of the tempest that impended

had been clearly given; enough, had it been heeded, to have averted the

fatal disaster. Several of the Canadians least hostile to the English had

thrown out hints of approaching danger, and one of them had even told

Captain Etherington, the commandant, that the Indians had formed a design

to destroy, not only his garrison, but all the English on the lakes. With

a folly, of which, at this period, there were several parallel instances

among the British officers in America, Etherington not only turned a deaf

ear to what he heard, but threatened to send prisoner to Detroit the next

person who should disturb the fort with such tidings. Henry, the trader,

who was at this time in the place, had also seen occasion to distrust the

Indians; but on communicating his suspicions to the commandant, the latter

treated them with total disregard. Henry accuses himself of sharing this

officer's infatuation. That his person was in danger, had been plainly

intimated to him, under the following curious circumstances:--

An Ojibwa chief, named Wawatam, had conceived for him one of those

friendly attachments which often form so pleasing a feature in the Indian

character. It was about a year since Henry had first met with this man.

One morning, Wawatam had entered his house, and placing before him, on the

ground, a large present of furs and dried meat, delivered a speech to the

following effect: Early in life, he said, he had withdrawn, after the

ancient usage of his people, to fast and pray in solitude, that he might

propitiate the Great Spirit, and learn the future career marked out for

him. In the course of his dreams and visions on this occasion, it was

revealed to him that, in after years, he should meet a white man, who

should be to him a friend and brother. No sooner had he seen Henry, than

the irrepressible conviction rose up within him, that he was the man whom

the Great Spirit had indicated, and that the dream was now fulfilled.

Henry replied to the speech with suitable acknowledgments of gratitude,

made a present in his turn, smoked a pipe with Wawatam, and, as the

latter soon after left the fort, speedily forgot his Indian friend and

brother altogether. Many months had elapsed since the occurrence of this

very characteristic incident, when, on the second of June, Henry's door

was pushed open without ceremony, and the dark figure of Wawatam glided

silently in. He said that he was just returned from his wintering ground.

Henry, at length recollecting him, inquired after the success of his hunt;

but the Indian, without replying, sat down with a dejected air, and

expressed his surprise and regret at finding his brother still in the

fort. He said that he was going on the next day to the Sault Ste. Marie,

and that he wished Henry to go with him. He then asked if the English had

heard no bad news, and said that through the winter he himself had been

much disturbed by the singing of evil birds. Seeing that Henry gave little

attention to what he said, he at length went away with a sad and mournful

face. On the next morning he came again, together with his squaw, and,

offering the trader a present of dried meat, again pressed him to go with

him, in the afternoon, to the Sault Ste. Marie. When Henry demanded his

reason for such urgency, he asked if his brother did not know that many

bad Indians, who had never shown themselves at the fort, were encamped in

the woods around it. To-morrow, he said, they are coming to ask for

whiskey, and would all get drunk, so that it would be dangerous to remain.

Wawatam let fall, in addition, various other hints, which, but for Henry's

imperfect knowledge of the Algonquin language, could hardly have failed to

draw his attention. As it was, however, his friend's words were spoken in

vain; and at length, after long and persevering efforts, he and his squaw

took their departure, but not, as Henry declares, before each had let fall

some tears. Among the Indian women, the practice of weeping and wailing is

universal upon all occasions of sorrowful emotion; and the kind-hearted

squaw, as she took down her husband's lodge, and loaded his canoe for

departure, did not cease to sob and moan aloud.

On this same afternoon, Henry remembers that the fort was full of Indians,

moving about among the soldiers with a great appearance of friendship.

Many of them came to his house, to purchase knives and small hatchets,

often asking to see silver bracelets, and other ornaments, with the

intention, as afterwards appeared, of learning their places of deposit,

in order the more easily to lay hand on them at the moment of pillage. As

the afternoon drew to a close, the visitors quietly went away; and many of

the unhappy garrison saw for the last time the sun go down behind the

waters of Lake Michigan.

The Conspiracy of Pontiac and the Indian War after the Conquest of Canada · 第 16 / 37 章