ELKSWATAWA; OR, THE PROPHET OF THE WEST.
A TALE OF THE FRONTIER.
“A noble race! but they are gone,
With their old forests wide and deep,
And we have built our homes upon
Fields where their generations sleep.”
BRYANT.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
NEW-YORK:
PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS,
NO. 82 CLIFF STREET.
1836.
[Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1836, by HARPER &
BROTHERS, in the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York.]
TO WILLIAM H. M'FARLAND, ESQ.
DEAR SIR,
By inscribing to you these volumes,—in which I have endeavoured to
enlarge upon an interesting portion of our National History, and to
set forth in a connected view, the main incidents in the lives of two
of the most celebrated Aborigines of our continent,—I offer a tribute
not less agreeable to myself, than due to your personal worth.
To an accomplished scholar like yourself, this work may appear crude
and defective; if so, let the intentions of the writer compensate for
the faults of his production. The recollection of the many kind
offices received at your hands, and of your amiable and dignified
character, renders it a pleasure to dedicate to you this first attempt
to describe events, which may hereafter be pourtrayed by an abler pen.
With my best wishes for your prosperity and welfare,
Believe me, Sir,
Yours, truly,
THE AUTHOR.
PREFACE.
During the intervals of leisure in a profession which has hitherto
employed but a small portion of my time, I traced out for my own
amusement the following story. It having fallen to my lot to reside
for some time in the western part of the Union, and to have visited
personally many of the Indian tribes along the frontier, I was
naturally led to observe with much attention, their customs and habits
of life. The more I saw of their peculiarities and traits of
character, the more I found my feelings aroused, and my sympathies
enlisted in their behalf; and from the contemplation of what they now
are, I was carried back, by a natural train of thought, to reflect
upon what they once had been. The names and deeds of those celebrated
individuals, who have from time to time, arisen among them, and with a
foresight and patriotism worthy of happier results, endeavoured to
regain for the red man his original power and possessions, became
familiar to me as household words, and I felt myself able to
appreciate more justly the talents and policy of those unfortunate
champions of Indian liberty, whose conduct and characters, owing to
the animosity excited in the minds of the frontier settlers by a
series of harassing hostilities, have been generally misrepresented,
and painted by the hand of prejudice, in the darkest and most odious
colours. One of the effects of the sojourn above referred to, was the
entire removal of many unfounded causes of dislike, and false
impressions, which had their origin in these and similar sources, and
the conviction that were the Indian, like the lion in the fable, to
draw the picture himself of the contest which has with but few
intermissions, been carried on between the whites and the aborigines,
since the period of the earliest settlements, we should behold many
startling and indisputable facts, many unprovoked aggressions, and
many sins unatoned for on the part of our countrymen, amply sufficient
to turn the milk of human kindness into the bitterest gall, and kindle
the most unextinguishable hate in the breasts of the most civilized
people.
To these many apologetic circumstances, tending to excuse their
natural animosity toward the whites, was added in my mind an
admiration of those peculiar traits of character which they possess in
common with no nation of modern times, but in which they approach
nearly the Greeks and Romans in their best estate, before luxury had
paved the way for despotism, and licentiousness had fused down all
individuality and national differences into one common mass of dulness
and depravity. The short, pointed, and antithetical sayings of many an
Indian chieftain, partake of the old Laconic character, and the
discipline both of mind and body, common among the tribes, is equally
severe with that inculcated by the Legislator of Sparta, in her
palmiest days. The answer of Tecumseh to Gen. Harrison, when offered a
seat by him at the council, will compare with any reply in ancient or
modern history; and the apophthegms of King Philip, recorded in the
annals of the times, are marked with the same spirit of moral
fearlessness and independence.
But the Indian, like his more civilized neighbour, however much he may
strive for effect, and put on his best mental attire upon occasions
which call for such preparation, has an every day manner, so to term
it, or a style of familiar conversation, when not labouring under any
particular excitement, which differs but little from that of the rest
of the world, and offers a striking contrast to his more exalted
moods, when art and passion combine to swell the stream of his
eloquence. Indeed, as in the well known lines of Horace:
“Telephus et Peleus, cum pauper et exul uterque,
Projicit ampullas et sesquipedalia verba,”
so the Indian, unless warmed by the expectant gaze of the multitude,
or influenced by the most violent passions, confines himself to the
more homely and necessary common places of the language. I have
travelled among them, hunted with them, conversed with them, and
watched them when employed in domestic avocations, and never, as far
as my personal experience enabled me to judge, did I hear any
expressions more highly wrought or figurative, than such as would be
used in ordinary conversation among ourselves. Impressed with this
fact, I have accordingly, in many instances, represented the Indians
as conversing without much of that mannerism which has by almost
common consent, been held to characterise their speech, while at other
times, when the place seemed to demand it, I have given the most
figurative and antithetical turn to their language; and in so doing, I
have rather deferred to the commonly received opinion, than acted in
accordance with my own judgment. This course may be contrary to the
notions entertained by many; but conceiving it, for the reasons above
stated, to be a correct one, I leave my Indians to vary their modes of
expression according to the circumstances in which they are placed.
The above remarks will apply with equal propriety to the language of
the Kentucky hunter, described in the following pages. He uses slang
as a matter of habit, when speaking of certain things, but this does
not prevent him from being more choice of his words when the subject
requires it. It may be observed, in this connexion, that although a
great proportion of our western population may often, partly from
fancy and partly from carelessness, interlard their language with
strange and far-fetched expressions, they nevertheless can be, and
are, when occasion demands it, as select of their phrases, and as
simple in their arrangement as any class of persons on our continent.
In fact, the many burlesques of western manners, which have given so
much amusement to our eastern and transatlantic brethren, were as much
of a novelty to the supposed actors in them, upon their first
appearance, as to their neighbours in the adjoining states.
The main incidents detailed in this work are strictly historical, and
drawn from authentic sources. So great, indeed, is that portion
devoted to the narrative of well known events, that the author has his
fears, lest by their too frequent occurrence, the purely fictitious
part may be weakened, and the whole assume a dry and uninteresting
appearance. But when he reflects upon the nature of his materials, and
the striking incidents in the history of the Prophet, which make truth
appear stranger than the wildest fiction, he is inclined to think that
the reader will wish he had curbed his fancy still more, and detailed
yet more at length, the actual occurrences of that interesting period.
The speeches attributed to Tecumseh and his brother, as well as those
of Gen. Harrison, are extracted verbatim from the records of the
times, since nothing which the writer could himself compose would
approach them in native eloquence and felicity of expression. Much as
they must suffer in the translation from the Indian tongue, there
still remains sufficient of the sacred fire, the “divinus afflatus,”
to show the character of their eloquence, and vindicate for their
author the title of Prince of Indian orators as well as of warriors.
Feeling it a duty due myself, to assign the reasons why I had ventured
to set forth opinions counter to the generally received impressions of
Indian and western character, I have been led to express myself more
at length than I intended. With this as my apology, I subscribe
myself,
THE AUTHOR.
Jerusalem, Southampton Co. Va.
January 27, 1836.
ELKSWATAWA; OR, THE PROPHET OF THE WEST.
CHAPTER I.
“And many a gloomy tale tradition yet
Saves from oblivion of their struggles vain,
Their prowess and their wrongs, for rhymer meet,
To people scenes, where still their names remain.”
SANDS.
The 20th of August, 1794, was the commencement of an era, ever to be
remembered in the annals of the West; for it marks the close of those
sanguinary battles which had so long desolated our northwestern
frontier with all the horrors of savage warfare.
Previous to this date, the Indians, emboldened by repeated successes,
and instigated by hireling agents, had swept like a tornado along the
whole range of our western settlements, marking their route with the
direst destruction. But it was not in predatory excursions alone that
their power had been felt; they had been victorious in several regular
engagements. Led on by the most noted chieftains of their tribes, they
had defeated Generals Harmar and St. Clair, nearly annihilating the
army of the latter, and creating so great a sensation throughout the
land, that it caused the Father of his country, like Augustus when he
heard of the destruction of Varus and his legions, to weep for the men
he had trained to arms, and pass a sleepless night, pacing his
apartment, and repeating aloud, “St. Clair! St. Clair! restore me my
troops!”
This calamity, however, aroused the nation from its apathy; and the
appointment of General Wayne to the command of the western army
induced the country to anticipate the happiest results. No man was
more popular, and no selection could have inspired more confidence.
Bold, daring, indefatigable, and skilled in habits of Indian warfare,
he was withal so reckless of life, that he received, and ever after
bore in the West, the appellation of “_Mad Anthony_.” We should exceed
the limits which we have here assigned ourselves, were we to trace
minutely the progress of events from the time of his appointment to
the period with which we commence; nearly a year had elapsed, and
nothing definite had been accomplished, when, on the 8th of August,
1794, we find him encamped at the confluence of the Au-Glaize and
Maumee Rivers, having under his command more than three thousand men,
most of whom were regulars. The Indians, comprising the tribes of the
Miamies, Pottawatamies, Delawares, Shawanees, Chippewas, Ottawas, and
Senecas, amounting in all to about two thousand, were commanded by
Little Turtle, chief of the Miamies, and the most noted warrior of his
day; Blue Jacket, chief of the Shawanees; and Buckongahelas, chief of
the Delawares.
The morning of the 20th found the Indians advantageously posted in the
forest of Presque Isle, awaiting the advance of General Wayne. With
his army divided into two columns, he moved on to the attack; the
action became general about 10 o'clock, and for sometime was
maintained with the greatest obstinacy. A movement on the part of the
American General to out-flank their right wing, threw them into
disorder, and wanting unanimity among themselves, for dissensions had
already crept into their ranks, a flight ensued, and victory declared
in favour of the Americans. The loss on either side was not great, yet
the victory was complete, and attended with more important
consequences than any battle which had ever been fought in the “far
west.” The Indians were dispersed, and their property destroyed, and
being no longer able to contend with any hope of success, many chiefs
sent in their submission. Hostilities were now suspended, and in the
following year Commissioners were appointed on the part of the United
States for the purpose of concluding a general peace.
Greenville, in Ohio, was appointed for the conference, and thither in
August, 1795, repaired the Commissioners, together with the chiefs of
all the northwestern tribes, accompanied by crowds of red men. Never
had a more imposing council been held in the “far west.” Of the
Representatives who were present, each one was conspicuous in the
tribe to which he belonged, all were famed as warriors, and noted for
the part they had acted in the deadly struggle which they had so long,
and so hopelessly been waging.
The crowd which had assembled, both of red men and whites, gave it
somewhat the appearance of a jubilee, but, on the part of the Indians,
it was a sad occasion which had called them together. They had long
been contending for wild lands, and still wilder liberty, with a
perseverance and determined zeal which won the admiration even of
their enemies. There was nothing selfish, or ambitious in their
purpose; they fought to retain that which the God of nature had given
them, and thousands had fallen and died satisfied, that they fell in
defence of their hunting grounds, and in preserving sacred the graves
of their fathers. They yielded to the superiority which a civilized
has over a savage foe, and they yielded, when their tribes were so
thinned of warriors that but few were left to battle in their
country's cause.
After so fruitless and protracted a struggle, it might truly be deemed
a sad occasion which had called them together, to transfer for ever,
those lands, for the possession of which they had so long contended.
But they were now forced to sue for peace, and the cession of a large
portion of their territory was the sole condition upon which it was to
be obtained—the powerful dictating to the powerless—and we may well
conceive the reluctance with which they acceded to the demand, when we
reflect, that the tract of country then surrendered, now comprises
several of the most flourishing states in the Union. The terms,
however, after a long and ineffectual opposition, were accepted, and
the treaty being ratified, each party pledged itself to preserve the
peace concluded. The Indians then expressed themselves contented with
its provisions, and the council adjourned. Peace being now restored,
all seemed anxious to preserve it, and Indians and whites mingling
promiscuously together, forgot at once former differences, in
expressions of mutual courtesy and friendship.
With this state of things came a change in the affairs of the West.
The instruments of war were exchanged for the implements of
agriculture, and crowds of emigrants were found flocking to that
lovely region of country, where but a short time before, marched
regiments of fearless and intrepid soldiery, or where, in lawless
bands, with vengeance dire, there roamed the savage wild. Beautiful
and bright was the prospect now, as when a cloud which has for some
time shrouded the horizon in gloom, carrying terror and dismay to the
breasts of all, spends its force, and suddenly breaking away, leaves
the glad sun dancing upon the earth. So was it here. Gloom and
darkness had hung over the land—the midnight torch, and merciless
scalping-knife were the visions of the past, and the future now shone
forth so clear and inviting that it promised to realize even the
wildest dreams of the imagination.
Looking through the vista of futurity, it required no seer to
foretell, that the Valley of the Mississippi, which, from its physical
appearance, may well be regarded as the cradle of our continent, was
soon destined to become the chosen home of the exile from every clime,
and to contain a population, brave, hardy, and industrious; not one to
whom ignoble thoughts were boon companions, but a people elevated in
sentiment by the immunities received under a Republican government,
and stimulated to acts of noble daring and enterprise, by the
reflection, that their fortunes were cast in a land where nature had
been more lavish of her bounties, than in any other part of the
world—yes, in a region of country, bounded on the north by lakes, in
which, so vast is their extent, all the vessels, that in every part of
the world now plough the briny deep, might be placed, and still hold
their onward course—in a region of country, where rivers run by almost
every door, and throughout the whole of which flows one great stream,
the grand receptacle of a thousand tributaries—a wonder within
itself—the great aorta of our continent, which courses every clime,
from the far frozen regions of the North, to warm and sunny lands,
“where the orange and citron are fairest of fruit,” and flowers burst
into beauty, regardless of the seasons of the year.
Indeed it required no seer to tell, that here, in a few years, cities
would spring up as if called into existence by the wand of the
magician, that those streams, over which now skimmed the light canoe,
would soon be covered with boats, bearing to other markets the surplus
produce of a mighty people.—These were the expectations which filled
the minds of all, when peace spread her wings over the wilds of the
West, and when with them were connected the descriptions of hardy
adventurers, who not only pourtrayed it as possessing all the
advantages here depicted, but likewise painted its beauties in such
glowing colours, that reason was merged in visions of fancy, thousands
of our enterprising citizens tore themselves from their comfortable
homes in our older states to become settlers of the West.
With the commencement of this onward movement, forests began to
disappear, and fields of grain waved in rich luxuriance, where, but a
few years before, the Indian hunter pursued his wily game.—As time
rolled on, the woodman's axe was often heard in the forest, and every
road was thronged with emigrants wending their way to some new and
distant home—while the Ohio was dotted with countless small
flat-roofed buildings, filled with families, who were floating on to
points still more remote.
When the tide of emigration first began to flow, the wigwams of the
Indians served as a barrier, and for a time stayed its progress; but,
as the flood increased, they were forced to desert their homes, and
recede from its influence. Having smoked the pipe of peace with the
stranger, they spoke not a word, but with feelings of deep sorrow,
left the graves of their fathers, and retiring farther into the
forest, selected another spot whereon to fix their cabins. But
scarcely were they settled in their new abodes, before the axe of the
pioneer again resounded in their ears, and the lodge of a squatter was
seen rising in the distance. With the approach of the whites,
retreated the game which was the sole support of the Indians, and
again they plunged yet deeper into the recesses of the forest, and
murmured not.
But when they began to find that one encroachment was but the prelude
to another, and that patient endurance availed them nothing,
suppressed murmurs were at first heard, then hoarser remonstrances,
and finally out they spoke, talked of right and wrong, and denounced
the whites as grasping and unjust, till the sparks of vengeance which
were to kindle up a flame among the tribes, were then first blown
abroad.
But setting aside the encroachments of the whites, there were other
causes for their discontent; causes, which deeply agitated them, and
stirred up in each one feelings of revenge. The treaty of Greenville,
though seemingly just in its provisions, had been wrung from their
necessities, and although at its conclusion, all the chiefs expressed
themselves satisfied, and an opinion pervaded the country that a firm
peace had been established, still there were many of the Indians in
whose bosoms hatred against the whites was not extinguished, but
continued to glow with a burning desire of vengeance. To them the
treaty was but the smothering of a fire to keep it alive, and their
sense of unavenged wrongs was like a secret volcano, consuming itself
with its own fires, and accumulating the power to burst forth.—The
warriors who entertained these feelings belonged to the tribe of the
Shawanees, decidedly the most warlike on our continent, and had often
fought first among the foremost, in many of the numerous conflicts in
which their tribe had been engaged.—Those to whom we particularly
allude, were present at the treaty of Greenville, and though too young
to be allowed a voice in council, left it with disgust, and from that
moment to the period of which we are writing, had been constantly
brooding over the wrongs of their country. But now, when they viewed
the continual encroachments of the whites, and saw, daily, their
dominions invaded, and their hunting grounds lessened, they began to
awaken to a sense of their danger, to breathe abroad a spirit of
revenge, and urge their countrymen on to acts of violence.
To the causes of irritation which we have before enumerated as
stimulating them to these measures must be added the breach of the
treaty of Greenville, which had been so solemnly ratified, and which
on the part of the Indians had been preserved inviolate. One of the
stipulations of that humiliating compact, by which they had ceded so
vast a territory, provided that all murderers should be surrendered to
the party aggrieved, to be punished according to their respective laws
or customs. In accordance with this provision, Indians were repeatedly
given over to the United States' authorities, tried, convicted, and
executed according to the judgment of their courts. But though many
Indians had been shot in the most wanton and unprovoked manner by
Americans, and a demand for the murderers often made, still they were
never given over for punishment, nor was there even an instance in the
courts, of a conviction for so atrocious a crime. This was the power
of prejudice, and to such an extent was it carried, that the killing
of an Indian by an American was scarcely regarded as indictable
offence. Can it then be a matter of surprise, that in this state of
things, they, with their ardent feelings and simple notions of
justice, should be sometimes tempted to take the law into their own
hands, and seek by bloody retaliation that redress, denied them by our
courts, and the hostility of our people. Is it at all strange that
murders were committed which began to increase to an alarming extent,
and that the Indians, adopting our own tactics, should have
endeavoured to screen the murderers?
But we have still to add for the Indians, another cause of
exasperation. Many attempts had been made on the part of the whites,
to purchase other portions of their land, from all the tribes
assembled in general council. In this they had failed, and yet,
several treaties had been concluded, and large districts of land
conveyed to the United States, by a _single_ tribe, while the Indians
generally regarded it as the common property, only to be alienated by
all the tribes collectively. To annul these treaties, repeated
applications had been made, but without success. These, with the long
and unprovoked aggressions before mentioned, would have stirred up the
deadliest hate of the most civilized people; then how could they
otherwise than powerfully operate upon savages, marked by ferocity of
disposition, and stubborn independence of character.
While this state of feeling was spreading rapidly among the Indians,
emigration was in a great measure suspended, and fear was felt by all
the border settlers. Nor were their apprehensions groundless, for it
often happened that some adventurer, more daring than his companions,
suddenly disappeared from his family, and was never again heard of.
And scarcely would the excitement consequent upon these things
subside, before acts still more alarming in their character were
perpetrated, tending to unveil the mystery which hung over the fate of
those who were lost; for the hunter would at times discover the
mangled body of some emigrant who had been wantonly murdered, and left
a prey to the beasts of the forest. When these things were told,
terror and dismay filled the breasts of all, mothers pressed sleepless
pillows, drew their infants still closer to their bosoms, and saw in
troubled slumbers the blaze of their dwellings, while the war whoop of
the savage would ring shrill in their ears. Yet it was but a dream.
At this time a great change was observable in the habits of the
Indians; they no longer indulged in intoxicating liquors; gewgaws,
which before possessed so many attractions in their eyes, were now
disregarded; all intercourse with the whites was suddenly broken off,
and rumour began to tell of secret councils, and midnight meetings in
the depths of the forest. And then were heard dark hints, and
enigmatical sayings, implying that they were invulnerable to the
bullets of the whites, and were soon to repossess the lands of their
fathers. Then came the tidings that a Prophet had arisen, who held
daily converse with the Great Spirit, and ruled the tribes with an
absolute sway. With this annunciation, the clouds of discontent, which
had so long lain scattered in the horizon, began to unite, and settle
in darkness over the west. At this period we commence our narrative.