“Well might his lays be lofty! soaring thought
From Nature's presence tenfold grandeur caught:
Well might bold Freedom's soul pervade the strains,
Which startled eagles from their lone domains,
And, like a breeze, in chainless triumph, went
Up through the blue resounding firmament.”
MRS. HEMANS.
The absence of Oloompa shed a gloom for a few days over the little
circle he left. Miskwa felt that she loved him, and the sympathies of
Gay were also strongly enlisted in his favour. His feelings against
the whites, as a people, he had avowed in her presence, and when she
recollected the dreary region through which he was then travelling,
and the many difficulties and hardships he must encounter, and thought
he was doing all this for one who at most was but a stranger to him,
her sympathies were so great, that for a short time even the pleasure
arising from the recollection of the object of his journey, was
sensibly diminished. But as time glided on, this feeling passed away,
and gave place in her breast to the joy of anticipating his return,
accompanied, as she fondly hoped, by Rolfe, of whom she had so often,
and so kindly thought, and who had so long and so eagerly sought her.
But, leaving Oloompa to continue his journey, let us revert to the
designs of Elkswatawa and Tecumseh.
It was now the summer of 1810:—the Indian affairs in the west began to
wear quite a warlike character, and so many reports reached Governor
Harrison, indicating a hostile disposition on the part of the Indians,
that he felt compelled to send a messenger to the two brothers with a
speech, setting forth the vast power of the whites, showing that
success could not possibly attend their arms, and promising, if
practicable, to redress their grievances upon their being publicly
stated. The messenger was likewise required to obtain, if possible, a
personal interview with the brothers, that he might form some idea of
their characters, and also to elicit a history of their views and
intentions toward the United States.
Upon arriving in the Shawanee country, the messenger was treated with
great courtesy and even kindness, for the policy of the brothers was,
to keep the whites in entire ignorance of their designs. In obedience
to his wishes, a council was called of all their followers, and the
speech of the Governor delivered to the brothers in their presence.
They listened to it with the utmost attention, yet refused to return
any answer. Upon the whole, however, they stated that they were
pleased with it, and Tecumseh said that “he had never been to see the
Governor; he only recollected him as a very young man, sitting by the
side of General Wayne; that he had never troubled the white people
much, and that he would now go to Vincennes, and convince the
Governor, that he had listened to bad men, when he was told that the
Indians meditated war against the United States.”
The meeting which had been called to hear the speech from the
Governor, having been dissolved, Tecumseh invited the messenger to
pass the night with him at his lodge, and extended to him all the rude
hospitality of his wigwam. In the course of the evening he threw off
much of the reserve which usually characterized him, and conversed
both freely and frankly. He again denied that he intended to make war
upon the United States, but declared, most solemnly, that it was not
possible to remain friends, unless the whites would abandon the idea
of making settlements farther to the north and westward, and
explicitly acknowledge the principle that all the lands in the west,
were the common property of all the tribes. “The Great Spirit,” said
he, “gave this great island to his red children; he placed the whites
on the other side of the big water; they were not contented with their
own, but came to take ours from us. They have driven us from the sea
to the lakes;—we can go no farther. They have taken upon them to say,
‘this tract belongs to the Miamies, this to the Delawares;’ and so on;
but the Great Spirit intended it as the common property of all. Our
father tells us, we have no business on the Wabash; the lands belong
to other tribes. The Great Spirit ordered us to come here, and here we
will stay. I intend not,” he continued, “to make war on the whites,
but our rights must be respected, and from this spot, on the banks of
the Wabash, I will never remove.”
When morning came, the messenger having gained all the information he
desired, prepared to return, and Tecumseh having determined within his
own mind, that he would visit the governor for the purpose of
endeavouring to remove the impressions under which he laboured, said
upon bidding him farewell,—“tell the Governor that I shall soon be
with him; thirty or forty of my principal men will attend me, and as
my young men are fond of shows, they will probably increase the
number. I say these things that our father may not be alarmed, and
that he may feast his red children as they deserve.”
During the whole time that the messenger had remained with Tecumseh,
the Prophet had been present, yet took no part in the conversation. He
left that entirely to the management of Tecumseh, who, though
apparently playing a subordinate part to the Prophet, was in reality
the life and soul of the projected enterprise. His voice was heard in
every council preaching peace, yet causing the red men to dream of
war, by narrating over and over again, the wrongs and aggressions of
the whites; and to such a degree had he already excited them, that the
difficulty now was, to keep down the passions he had called into play.
In his own bosom he felt the storm gathering with increased fury, and
every hour of his time was passed in summing up the wrongs he had
suffered. Large tracts of land had been conveyed away by particular
tribes, when Tecumseh regarded it as the common property of all.
Murders had been committed by the Indians on the whites, and the
murderers had been handed over to the whites for punishment; murders
had been committed on the Indians by the whites, and when the
murderers were demanded, their calls had been neglected. The wave of
population was steadily advancing and encroaching upon their grounds.
Want and hunger were already the consequence of the near proximity of
the whites, and a history of the past told too truly, that one
aggression would be followed by another, until the plough of the
stranger would run over the ground now occupied by their wigwams, and
then, a few years more, and no Indian would own the land whereon he
rested. These were the things which preyed upon the soul of Tecumseh,
and caused him to weep for the fate of his countrymen, and these were
the feelings with which, in the following month, he sat out to visit
the Governor at Vincennes, with a hope of removing from his mind all
unfavourable impressions which he might entertain towards the Indians,
and at the same time determined to lay before him the wrongs of which
he complained, and demand redress.
It was on the 12th of August that Tecumseh, with a small band of
warriors, the Governor having positively forbidden his being attended
by a large retinue, made his appearance at Vincennes. Accommodations
were prepared at the Governor's house, where he expected the proposed
meeting would be held; but Tecumseh refused, and halted his followers
in the open air, saying that “so the Indians had ever done, and he
would not deviate from their customs. That houses were made for the
whites to hold their councils in;—the Indians always held theirs under
the trees.”
His fame as an orator had already spread far abroad, and the exciting
subjects which were to be discussed, together with his connexion with
the Prophet, induced crowds of citizens to attend the council. In
addition to this, the conduct of the Governor in effecting a treaty
the year before, for the purchase of lands by the United States, had
been denounced by Tecumseh as unjust and improper, and to hear the
grounds of the accusation, as well as that his defence might be more
generally known, the Governor had issued invitations to all those
disposed to attend. In consequence whereof, besides the crowds of
citizens before mentioned, there were present the judges of the
supreme court, and the secretary of the Territory, with many officers
of the army. The whites, clustered around the Governor, were seated on
chairs and benches, and before them lay extended on the grass Tecumseh
and his swarthy band, armed with bows, rifles, tomahawks, and war
clubs. In the rear, and at a short distance behind the governor, was
stationed a small military force, brought up from fort Knox for the
purpose of preserving order. Such was the disposition of the
respective parties, when silence being commanded, Tecumseh, nothing
daunted by the assembly around him, although all were his enemies save
his own trusty band, arose with great dignity and calmness of manner,
and gathering his blanket about him, poured forth the deep and burning
feelings of his bosom. He knew no guile, but spoke the first
promptings of his mind. In answer to a call which was made, that he
should state “why it was that large bodies of Indians were assembled,
warlike exercises practised, and an attitude assumed apparently
hostile to the whites,” he declared that “his object, as well as that
of his brother, had been an organized plan, from the commencement, to
unite all the tribes together, and form them into one nation, for
their common defence,—to stay the farther encroachments of the whites,
and to hold the lands of the red men, as they were intended by the
Great Spirit to be, the common property of all.” He declared, that
“the lands which had been lately purchased, should never be settled,
and that it was their determination to put to death all the chiefs who
had signed the late treaties, and never again to convey another foot
of land to the whites. That in the late treaties, lands belonging to
the whole, had been sold by a few, for a paltry price, and their
princely dominions so encroached upon, that the red men could scarcely
satisfy the dire cravings of hunger. That aggression had followed
aggression, until from the sea coast they had been driven back to the
big lakes, and were now required to move back still a step farther.
That the stipulation of the treaty of Greenville, requiring the
surrender of murderers, had on the part of the whites, been grossly
violated, and the rights of the Indians entirely disregarded. That in
all their transactions they had been overreached, and that now they
were resolved to yield no longer, but to maintain their rights, at the
hazard of their lives.”
He stated, that his object was “not to make war upon the whites, but
that the lands lately purchased, must not be settled; that, for
himself, he would never surrender his lands on the Wabash, nor move
one foot to the westward; that he desired peace, but to preserve it,
the Governor must give up the lands just purchased, and promise never
to make another treaty without the consent of all the tribes. Do
this,” said he, “and Tecumseh is the friend of the Americans, and
their ally against the English.—He likes not the English,”—and here he
clapped his hands, and imitated a person encouraging a dog to make him
fight with another, thereby indicating that thus did the English urge
the Indians on against the Americans. “But,” continued he, “should our
father not give up the purchase he has lately made, Tecumseh is the
inveterate foe of the Americans,—the firm ally of the English.”
Such were merely the heads of his speech, and having seated himself,
General Harrison rose in reply. He began by answering that part of
Tecumseh's speech in which he stated that “the lands of the red people
were intended, by the Great Spirit, to be held in common.” In replying
to this, General Harrison observed, that “when the white people
arrived on this continent, they found the Miamies in possession of all
the country on the Wabash, and the Shawanees then residents of
Georgia, from which they were driven by the Creeks; that the lands in
question had been purchased from the Miamies, who were the true and
original owners of it; that it was ridiculous to assert that all the
Indians were one nation. If such had been the intention of the Great
Spirit, he would not have put different tongues in their heads, but
have taught them a language that all could understand. That the
Miamies found it to their interest to sell a part of their lands, and
that the Shawanees had no right to come from a distant country to
control the Miamies, in the disposal of their own property.”
Here, Tecumseh rising, interrupted the Governor, and declared that
“every syllable he had uttered was false, and that he and the
‘Seventeen Fires,’ the then number of states, had imposed upon and
cheated the Indians.” He then blew a whistle, and his band sprang upon
their feet, with ready rifles, drawn bows, and uplifted tomahawks,
directed towards the Governor, and those who immediately surrounded
him. The whites rose from their seats, and drew whatever weapon chance
had supplied them with, and though largely outnumbering the Indians,
they were almost paralyzed by the unexpected position in which they
found themselves; and each party stood gazing at the other in perfect
silence, neither daring to commence the attack.
When Tecumseh first rose to interrupt the Governor, the guard was
called;—several minutes had now elapsed, and still not a word had been
uttered,—not an attitude changed,—not a glance averted,—the most
breathless silence had reigned,—the most painful suspense still
continued, when the guard was seen running to their assistance. The
time had not yet arrived for Tecumseh to strike,—he waved his hand,
and the bows of his warriors were unstrung, their tomahawks returned
to their belts. To the whites it had been a painful scene.—The guards
who were ordered up, had now arrived, and were in the act of firing,
when the Governor, seeing that the Indians had desisted from their
hostile intention, commanded them not. Great confusion existed,—the
council was dismissed, and Tecumseh, with his band, immediately left
the town.
Having continued his march for several miles, he pitched his camp, and
prepared to pass the night. His warriors were ordered to be on their
guard against surprise; and also to hold themselves in readiness to
move at a minute's warning, while he, retiring apart from the crowd,
thought over the events of the day. His soul was now wrung with
anguish,—he writhed under the wrongs he had suffered, and at the same
time regretted the passion he had exhibited. He feared lest it should
prejudice his cause, and that the whites should consider it a
sufficient reason for their commencing hostilities. He would not have
time to summon his warriors to battle. Moreover, he was not yet ready,
for although his emissaries had visited the southern tribes, he
himself had not, and therefore it became necessary to do away the
impression which his conduct at the council was calculated to create.
With these views, he sent a runner to the Governor, at the first dawn
of day, requesting an interview, for the purpose of explaining his
conduct the day before. After the breaking up of the council, in the
manner above stated, Gen. Harrison, fearing an attack from Tecumseh,
had ordered in the militia, and placed the town in a state of defence,
and exasperated by what he believed to have been a premeditated
attempt at treachery on his part, he at first refused to grant the
interview sought. After some consultation, however, he accorded it,
upon condition that each party should be attended with the same armed
force which was present the day before.
The day wore on, and the red men and white again met in council.
Tecumseh was dignified and collected, and rather more conciliating in
his manner than he had been at the former conference. He denied having
had any intention of attacking the Governor, and exerted himself to
remove any such impression which might have been formed, yet
reiterated the same opinions which he had advanced the day before,
relative to their lands, and the wrongs of the Indians. Having
finished speaking, the Governor asked him whether it was his intention
now to prevent the surveying of the lands, lately purchased by the
United States.
He answered, “It was:—that he and those connected with him were
determined that the old boundary should continue.” The Governor
complimented him for his frankness, and told him, that his views
should be made known to the President, but he feared, without a hope
of the lands being surrendered.
“If they are not, I cannot help it,” said Tecumseh, “I know my duty.”
The council was then adjourned, and Tecumseh again left the town.—All
present were fully impressed with a sense of the high character and
noble bearing of Tecumseh, and none more so than the Governor, who,
with a hope of eliciting a farther development of his views in
private, than he had given in public, determined on the following day,
to visit him at his camp. With but a single friend, he appeared before
Tecumseh, who treated them both with the most marked respect, carried
them to his tent, where, giving them seats, and stretching himself
upon the ground, he entered frankly into conversation.
The Governor stated, that he had come with a wish to preserve peace,
and desired to know whether his intentions were really such as he had
stated in council.
Tecumseh said, “they were;—that he would not willingly make war with
the United States, against whom he had no other complaint, than their
purchasing the Indian lands.—That he wished to be their friend, and
that if the Governor would surrender the lands lately bought, he was
the ally of the Americans; if not, he was their enemy.” The Governor
again assured him that he would make known his propositions to the
President, but informed him, there was no hope of his acceding to
them.
“Well,” said Tecumseh, “as the Great Chief is to determine the matter,
I hope the Great Spirit will put sense enough in his head to induce
him to give up the land. True, he is so far off, that the war will not
injure him;—he may sit still in his town, and drink his wine, while
you and I will have to fight it out.”
Much conversation ensued, all of which was marked by the most manly
frankness, and the Governor rose to depart, saying, “there is one
request, Tecumseh, which I have to make, and to which I hope you will
agree.”
“Name it,” said the Chief.
“It is,” said the Governor, that “in the event of a war, you will
endeavour to prevent the murder of women and children by the Indians,
as well as the wounded and prisoners, taken in battle.”
“I promise,” said Tecumseh, “for my soul delighteth not in the blood
of women and children; and, Great Chief, remember, if it becomes
necessary, extend to the red men the same clemency you ask for the
whites.”
“I promise,” said the Governor, and bidding Tecumseh farewell, with a
hope that the friendly relations then existing, might not be
disturbed, he was soon on his way to Vincennes, meditating upon the
interview, and deploring the war which he saw fast gathering, and
which was to prove disastrous to the whites, and ruinous to the
Indians.