“Last of a noble race,
To a lonely bed they bore him,
'Twas a green, still, solemn place,
Where the mountain pine waves o'er him;
Woods alone
Seem to moan,
Wild streams to deplore him.”
MRS. HEMANS.
We have now traced to a close, the main incidents in our story, and
still it is unfinished as far as regards the fate of several
characters who have played a conspicuous part in the foregoing
narrative. To give a brief sketch of their subsequent history is now
our purpose.
With the loss of the battle of Tippecanoe at once sunk the character
of Elkswatawa as a Prophet. He had prophesied success to those who
should be engaged in the battle, and with it an exemption from all
injury. His prophecies were proved false; for the battle was lost, and
many of his warriors killed. His power was now gone; those who had
lost relatives in the late action, reviled and abused him as a bad
man, and public opinion among the Indians was also very strong against
him on account of his having embroiled them with the whites, and
plunged them into difficulties from which they now saw no hope of
escape. In this state of things, he retired with a small party, to one
of the Huron villages, where he determined to remain until the
opposition against him had in some measure spent its force, when he
would again endeavour to regain that influence which he before
possessed. The immediate consequence of the defeat of the Indians at
Tippecanoe was a disposition on their part to sue for peace. The
chiefs of all the tribes which were in the late action, the Shawanees
alone excepted, repaired to Vincennes, and delivered up their arms;
and the Prophet's band having dwindled down to a mere handful of men,
circumstances seemed to promise a speedy and amicable adjustment of
the Indian affairs.
When the battle of Tippecanoe was fought, Tecumseh was absent at the
south, having avowed to General Harrison, previous to his departure,
that his object in visiting the Indians in that quarter, was to
endeavour to unite them in the confederacy he had already formed. But
no sooner had the battle taken placed and the Indians delivered up
their arms and sued for peace, than he returned to his lands on the
Wabash. When he found that all the plans which he had so long been
maturing, had been frustrated by the rashness of Elkswatawa and his
followers, his soul was wrung with anguish:—he vented his wrath
against him, and wept over the derangement of his schemes.—He had now
with him but eight followers, and the band of the Prophet amounted to
but few more;—and this was the result of their joint labours for so
many years. When Tecumseh saw this, he repined no longer, but
reconciling all differences with Elkswatawa, went at once to work to
endeavour to regain what he had lost.
Previous to Tecumseh's visit to the south, Mr. Madison, who was then
President of the United States, had expressed a wish, that those
chiefs who were dissatisfied with the late treaties, should visit
Washington, for the purpose of stating their grievances; at the same
time, promising them that they should be redressed if practicable.
Tecumseh had consented to do so, upon his return; and now, for the
purpose of gaining time, and also quieting still further the
apprehensions of the whites, he sent a messenger to General Harrison,
avowing that he was ready to set out with the deputation which had
been invited to proceed to Washington, to treat for peace; but that
his wish was to go as its chief.
He was answered, that he might visit Washington with the deputation,
but not in the capacity he desired. This wounded his pride, for he
thought himself entitled to the rank to which he aspired, and with the
refusal he relinquished all thoughts of peace. He saw that the battle
was to be fought, and he nerved himself for the contest. His exertions
were now more unremitting than ever:—again he visited every
neighbouring tribe; called its warriors together, depicted the wrongs
they suffered, dwelt upon the ruinous consequences of such a peace as
the whites would dictate, and urged them on to battle for their
rights. He spoke of the invasion of the whites, and the battle of
Tippecanoe, and in fine, left no topic untouched, which was calculated
to excite the Indians against the United States. The Prophet also was
again seen wandering far and wide, and preaching the words of the
Great Spirit. His failure at Tippecanoe, he rationally accounted for,
by saying that some woman had, by touching his sacred utensils on the
evening of the battle, destroyed their charm, and so specious were the
devices he used, and so ignorant the multitude upon which he operated,
that we find him again playing quite a conspicuous part. But he was
never destined to regain the power which but a short time before he
had wielded. Tecumseh now avowed himself the master spirit of the
projected enterprise, and rose as rapidly in favour with the Indians,
as the Prophet had declined. The result of his exertions will be seen,
when, notwithstanding the deranged state in which he found his affairs
upon his return, two months after this time, we find him at the head
of a roving band, spreading terror and devastation along the whole
range of our north-western frontier. Nothing could equal the fear he
inspired, for so extensive was the confederation he had formed, that
incursions would be made by members of his band, and families murdered
at a distance of one and two hundred miles apart. When pursuit was
made, the Indians were gone, and the occurrence of these things at so
many different points, tended so much to distract and divide public
attention, that it was found impossible to embody the militia at any
one place, in sufficient numbers to be of service. No one knew when he
was safe, for murders were committed in places deemed hitherto secure,
and very often the attack was directed where least expected. There was
no guarding against it, for no one could tell where the blow was to
fall, and the result was, that entire families were seen deserting
their homes, and flying they knew not where for protection. Many
sought Vincennes, but scarcely would they reach it, before rumour
represented that the Prophet, with a numerous band was coming down
upon the town, and the fugitives left it, to continue their flight. In
every quarter, was terror, consternation, and fear exhibited.
To counteract this, all the troops under General Harrison were called
out, and so disposed as to protect as much of the frontier as
possible, and a special messenger was likewise despatched, for the
purpose of calling together a council of the tribes, and either
settling upon the terms of peace, or else securing their neutrality.
This was essential, because the chiefs of many of the tribes had
delivered up their arms, after the battle of Tippecanoe, and expressed
a willingness to treat for peace; and it was also highly necessary,
because the attitude assumed by England at this time, warranted the
belief that war would soon be declared between the two countries; and
as in case of such an event, the contest would lay in a great measure
along the lakes, it became a matter of great moment, to conciliate as
many of the tribes as practicable.
The special messenger appointed by General Harrison, so far succeeded
in his mission, that, in May, 1812, a grand council of twelve tribes
was held at Mississinniway, on the Wabash. Each tribe had its orator,
who addressed the council, and all were for peace, with the exception
of Tecumseh. Even he, seeing that all were against him, dissembled,
and said he was willing to treat for peace; but in his speeches, he
never lost sight of the injuries which had been inflicted by the
whites, nor did he fail to advert to the causes of complaint which he
considered most irritating. He deemed it unwise there to avow that his
intentions were for war, yet at the close of one of his speeches, in
allusion to the whites, he said, “should they come again and make an
unprovoked attack on us at our village, we will die like men, but we
will never strike the first blow.” During the discussion, the Prophet
was spoken of by several of the tribes, as a bad man, and their
present difficulties were attributed to him. They protested that they
would no longer listen to his doctrines, nor have any connexion with
him; and the council adjourned, leaving an impression on the whites,
that peace would be adhered to by most of the tribes which were
present.
Although Tecumseh had expressed a willingness to be at peace, and a
disposition to remain so, no sooner was the council broken up than we
find him going among the very tribes whose chiefs had just pledged
themselves to preserve peace, strengthening the confederacy which he
had already formed, and urging the Indians in the most exciting
language, to prepare for battle. With the breaking up of the council
at Mississinniway, he drew off all reserve, and no longer pretended to
conceal his designs. He proclaimed that his voice was for battle, and
battle he would have until he and his warriors should be no more, or
until the Ohio river should be acknowledged as the northern boundary
of the United States, and a promise on the part of the whites be
given, never more to purchase lands of the Indians, without the
consent of every tribe on the continent.
The breach between England and the United States, was now every day
widening, and all foresaw that war was inevitable. In consequence of
this, extensive preparations were made:—forts were built and
garrisoned, and the whole northern frontier placed in the best
possible state of defence. Tecumseh, who when he first projected the
scheme which he had been so long maturing, was as bitter in his
feelings against the English as the Americans, now saw that he could
do nothing by opposing both, and that he must at once take part with
one or the other. The injuries inflicted by the Americans, were fresh
in his mind; he saw them in possession of lands to which he thought
his tribe entitled, and he saw them grasping at the small portion of
territory yet left to the red men. He had received overtures before
this, from English agents, and he now bent his steps toward the Canada
lines.
On the 18th of June, of the year 1812, war was declared against
England, and affairs in the west wearing a more alarming aspect,
greater preparations became necessary. To General Harrison was
assigned the command of the western army, and all his exertions were
devoted to making preparations for the opening campaign. Tecumseh had,
in the meantime, formed an alliance with the English; for soon after
his return to the Wabash, he was heard to state to the commander at
Fort Wayne, while on his way to the Malden council, that he had orders
from the English, to receive twelve horse loads of ammunition, for the
use of his people at Tippecanoe. He was also placed at the head of the
Anglo-Indian Department, and to him was assigned the rank of a general
officer in the English army.
The council at Malden, to which allusion has been made above, was
called by the English for the purpose of counteracting the effect of
that which had been held at Mississinniway, and with a hope of gaining
over to their side, the few tribes which still adhered to the American
cause. It was numerously attended; Tecumseh and the prophet, Elliot, a
British Indian agent, and the commanding English officer, were all
present. The few tribes which had resisted the influence of Tecumseh
and the Prophet, and still adhered to the American cause, were
threatened and persuaded, but in vain; they remained firm; and after a
warm and animated discussion, all the chiefs who were favourable to
the English cause, seized the hatchet of their English
father.—Tecumseh was the first to do so,—as emblematical of their
determination,—saying, “we now come forward and take hold of your war
hatchet, and will assist you to fight against the Americans.” The
council then adjourned. Tecumseh now redoubled his
exertions,—journeying by night and day, he again visited the tribes of
his confederacy, and to each applied that stimulus which was most
likely to excite them to immediate action. Some he persuaded, others
he threatened; no labour fatigued him; no exertion was too great; and,
while he himself was thus engaged, his emissaries were likewise
travelling in every direction for the purpose of assembling the
Indians.[1]
[Footnote 1: See note E.]
Such were the exertions of Tecumseh, and although they were so far
crowned with success, that by his means a greater number of Indians
were embodied than were ever before known to have assembled at any
former time, still he failed in the accomplishment of those great ends
for which he had so long been labouring. He failed in establishing the
Ohio River as the north-western boundary of the United States, which
he often asserted to be a favourite measure, and his determination to
effect. Yet, his endeavours to do so, have won for him a reputation
which will last until the aborigines of our country shall be
forgotten. He also failed to unite in one confederacy, as was his
purpose, all the tribes in the great Mississippi valley. Still his
visit to the south has generally been regarded as the exciting cause
of the subsequent hostility of the Indians in that quarter.
When Tecumseh and Elkswatawa commenced their operations, no improper
motive influenced them. They contended for the possession of a waste
and unimproved territory. They fought to establish the principle, that
all the lands held by the Indians, belonged to the whole collectively,
and not to particular tribes. Believing that the United States had
grievously wronged them in purchasing large tracts from a single
tribe, they thenceforth resolved, that it should be regarded as common
property, never to be disposed of without the consent of all. They
also united, heart and soul, endeavouring to fix a limit to the
growing power of the United States. For they saw the stream of
population fast pouring upon their lands, and knew that, unless
stayed, it would soon sweep from them the few possessions they still
held.
These, with them, were praiseworthy objects, and by them for a long
time, were they solely influenced. But, circumstances changed in a
measure, the current of their thoughts, and thenceforward personal
vengeance urged them on in all their operations. At first, their
resentment was against the whites, whether as English or Americans,
they knew no difference; it was the whites who had wrested from them
their lands. But when they saw that hostilities were about to commence
between England and America, and reflected upon the growing power of
the latter, they began to waver in their original purpose. They gave
their ears to the soft persuasions of the English agents, who
flattered their pride, courted their assistance, sympathized with them
in all their sufferings, and attributed their misfortunes to the
grasping power of the Americans. When the brothers heard these things,
and remembered that those oft told tales were not the date of
yesterday, but had been reiterated for years, they yielded, and in
lending their assistance to the English, changed in a great degree the
holy nature of the war they were waging.
It is not our purpose to enter minutely into the details of all the
campaigns in which Tecumseh was conspicuous, and therefore we must
condense the events of his latter days into a few brief pages. We do
this unwillingly, for every incident connected with him is
interesting, and proves him to have possessed a great mind, imbued
with chivalry of character which would have shed lustre over any
person, in any age. Throughout the whole of the contest, his conduct
was bold, frank, and manly, and though a savage, no act of inhumanity
ever stained his fair fame. The cause which called forth his exertions
was an holy one; it was to stay the encroachments of the whites, to
render the rights of his countrymen respected, and secure to them the
quiet possession of the lands which they still retained. In his own
beautiful language, he compared the continual advancement of the white
settlements to a “mighty wave overspreading the land,” and the
confederacy he was forming, to “a dam made to resist it.”
The history of the Prophet is so blended with that of Tecumseh, that
we cannot well separate them, even did we wish it. Cowardly, cruel,
and treacherous, he possessed but few redeeming virtues. Yet all the
incidents which marked his career as a Prophet, prove him to have been
a most extraordinary man. In the first place, the assuming of a
character which was founded in deception, and the many petty artifices
which he was called on daily to practise for so long a time, in order
to sustain that character, prove that he must have had a mind both
singularly constituted and of great power. And this is still more
apparent, when, also, we reflect that, notwithstanding the most
violent opposition from the chiefs of all the tribes upon which he
operated, and also from the whites, long before his designs were
regarded as hostile, he succeeded in creating in his own person a
power which was felt throughout the remotest tribes, and in wielding
an influence not less fatal and mysterious in its effects, than was
that of the inquisition, in the plentitude of its power. That power
must have been great, and a great mind alone could have created it,
which enabled him to lead as he pleased, the lawless band of Indians
who generally accompanied him; which enabled him, like Prospero, who,
by the wave of his wand, called up tempests from the vasty deep, at
his bidding, to lash his followers into the fury of a raging storm, or
hush them when excited, into quiet deep as that of a sleeping child.
But, luckily for the whites, with the battle of Tippecanoe, was lost
the influence of the Prophet. Had he won that battle, or had the
Indians, throughout the north-western war, fought with the same
desperation which marked their conduct at Tippecanoe, the result,
though in all probability the same, would, by the whites, have been
far more dearly purchased. Yet, although he there failed, he relaxed
not in his exertions; for, after this, we often find him associated
with Tecumseh, though always playing a subordinate part.
But, as regards Tecumseh, if there be one trait in his character more
attractive than another, it is the clemency and humanity which ever
marked his conduct; and this is the more remarkable, when we regard
the many irritating circumstances which urged him on in his hostility
to the United States. Had he, in the many contests in which he
engaged, acted according to the general rule of Indian warfare, he
would still have been great, then how much brighter appears his fame,
when we recollect, that, during the north-western war, atrocities were
perpetrated without a parallel in the annals of civilized warfare, and
that against Tecumseh not a single act of wanton cruelty was ever
charged. When the battle, or rather the massacre of the River Raisin
took place, Tecumseh was collecting his warriors on the Wabash, and
his after conduct proves that, had he been present, the scene that
there occurred, would not now remain a blot upon the fame of England.
In one of the sorties from Fort Meigs, many Americans were captured,
and when confined and disarmed, the Indians proceeded inhumanly to
butcher them. Tecumseh having heard what was going on, rushed to the
spot, reproached them with their cruelty, and stopped the massacre. He
is said to have stipulated with General Proctor for the delivery of
General Harrison into his hands, in the event of his being captured.
What disposition he would have made of him, had it so happened, we can
never know, and can only conjecture from what is known of his
character. In all probability his pleasure would have been to have
extended to him the hospitality of his wigwam, and like Roderick Dhu,
have guided him safely beyond the confines of his lands, and then set
him free.
Tecumseh succeeded in bringing more men into the field than were ever
before embodied by any other chieftain. From a single excursion on the
Wabash, he returned at one time, with six hundred warriors, and from
the commencement of hostilities, up to the period of the battle of the
Thames, was hovering along our frontiers, with a force of from two to
three thousand. At the head of two thousand warriors, he aided General
Proctor, in the two attempts which he made on Fort Meigs, and was
likewise engaged in many other skirmishes along our line of posts.
But distinguished as Tecumseh was for his deeds as a warrior, we have
ever regarded him as still more conspicuous, from the convincing
proofs he has left, that he was an orator, in the highest sense of the
term. That he was fearless, see his declarations in council, when
surrounded by his enemies. What apophthegm, though uttered in Rome, in
her happiest days, surpasses his reply to the interpreter, when,
fatigued from speaking in council, at Vincennes, he saw that no chair
had been provided for him. “Your father,” (alluding to General
Harrison,) said the interpreter, “requests you to take a chair,”—at
the same moment handing one. “My father!”—replied Tecumseh, “the sun
is my father, the earth my mother; upon her bosom I will repose;”—and,
suiting the action to his words, he laid himself on the ground. What
more striking than his reply to General Harrison, when discussing in
his own tent, the probability of war. Alluding to the situation which
the President of the United States would occupy in such an event, he
replied,—“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;” or the words of Tecumseh, when, in one of his
speeches, alluding to the earthquake which overwhelmed New Madrid, he
says:—“The Great Spirit is angry with our enemies; he speaks in
thunder, and the earth swallows up villages, and drinks up the
Mississippi; the wide waters will cover their low lands, and the Great
Spirit will sweep from the earth, with his terrible breath, those who
escape to the hills.” Of all his speeches which have been preserved,
the one which we here extract, gives perhaps the best idea of his
manner and mode of expression. In judging of it, as of all other
Indian productions, we should make allowance for the loss they must
necessarily sustain in being translated, and secondly, for the fact
that, as a general remark, all the persons who have been employed as
interpreters among them, have generally been uneducated men. Tecumseh,
being at Malden, with General Proctor, when the latter began to make
preparations for retreating, in consequence of Perry's victory, and
not knowing why he was hurrying away, demanded a council in the name
of all the Indians, and spoke as follows:—
“Father—Listen to your children! You have them all now before you.
“The war before this, our British father gave the hatchet to his red
children, when our old chiefs were alive. They are now dead! In the
war, our father was thrown on his back, by the Americans, and our
father took them by the hand without our knowledge. We are afraid our
father will do so again at this time.
“Summer before last, when I came forward with my red brethren, and was
ready to take up the hatchet in favour of our British father, we were
told not to be in a hurry, that he had not yet determined to fight the
Americans.
“Listen! When war was declared, our father stood up and gave us the
tomahawk, and told us that he was then ready to strike the Americans;
that he wanted our assistance; and that he would certainly get us our
lands back, which the Americans had taken from us.
“Listen!—You told us at that time to bring our families to this place,
and we did so; and you promised to take care of them; that they should
want for nothing, while the men would go and fight the enemy; that we
need not trouble ourselves about the enemy's garrisons; that we knew
nothing about them, and that our father would attend to that part of
the business. You also told your red children that you would take good
care of your garrison here, which made our hearts glad.
“Listen!—When we were last at the Rapids, it is true, we gave you
little assistance. It is hard to fight people who live like
ground-hogs.[2]
[Footnote 2: Alluding to the Americans in their forts.]
“Father, listen!—Our fleet has gone out; we know they have fought; we
have heard the great guns; but we know nothing of what has happened to
our father with one[3] arm. Our ships have gone one way, and we are
much astonished to see our father tying up every thing and preparing
to run away the other, without letting his red children know what his
intentions are. You always told us to remain here and take care of our
lands; it made our hearts glad to hear that was your wish. Our great
father, the king, is the head, and you represent him. You always told
us you would never draw your foot off British ground; but now, father,
we see you are drawing back, and we are sorry to see our father doing
so, without seeing the enemy. We must compare our father's conduct to
a fat dog, that carries its tail upon its back, but when affrighted,
it drops it between its legs, and runs off.
[Footnote 3: Commodore Barclay.]
“Father, listen!—The Americans have not yet defeated us by land;
neither are we sure that they have done so by water; we therefore wish
to remain here, and fight our enemy, should they make their
appearance. If they defeat us, we will then retreat with our father.
At the battle of the Rapids, last war, the Americans certainly
defeated us; and when we returned to our father's fort at that place,
the gates were shut against us. We were afraid that it would now be
the case; but instead of that, we now see our British father preparing
to march out of the garrison.
“Father!—You have got the arms and ammunition which our great father
sent for his red children. If you have an idea of going away, give
them to us, and you may go and welcome. Our lives are in the hands of
the Great Spirit. We are determined to defend our lands, and if it be
his will, we wish to leave our bones upon them.”
During the retreat of General Proctor, which finally ended in his
discomfiture, he returned with Tecumseh and a small guard to view the
ground at a place called Chatham, where a large unfordable creek falls
into the Thames. Having thoroughly examined the place, it was approved
of, and Proctor told Tecumseh, as they rode in the same gig, that upon
that spot they would either defeat General Harrison or there lay their
bones. Tecumseh seemed much pleased at this determination, and said,
that “it was a good place, and when he should look at the two streams,
they would remind him of the Wabash and Tippecanoe.” It was here that
a skirmish took place but a short time previous to the general battle,
Proctor having left Tecumseh to defend the pass, with about twelve
hundred Indians. He was unsuccessful, and rejoining Proctor they
formed in order of battle, near the Moravian towns. Tecumseh commanded
the right wing of the allied army, and was himself posted on the left
of that wing. It is said, he entertained fears that Proctor would
retreat, and that some few minutes before the battle commenced, he
rode up to him, and told him that the British wing was not far enough
up to be in line with his.
This incident in the history of Tecumseh, is narrated on the authority
of an English officer who was taken prisoner, and Tecumseh was surely
authorized in making the assertion, from Proctor's failing to assist
him in defending the pass at Chatham. An examination of that place
will show, as stated by historians, that had the ground been occupied
by the Indians and English conjointly, and had they defended it with
even tolerable bravery, it would have been utterly impossible for the
American army to have crossed over. Great as were the exertions of
Tecumseh, and untiring as were his efforts for so long a time, it was
his misfortune to be connected with, and in a great degree governed by
one to whom he was in every point of view superior. In forming an
alliance with the English, he necessarily placed himself under the
guidance of Proctor, who was at the head of the English forces. From
the time of their first connexion, Tecumseh was ever urging him on to
battle. Upon the first tidings of Perry's victory, Proctor,
notwithstanding Tecumseh's remonstrances, hurried away from Malden,
where he was then encamped. “If,” says the historian of the western
war, “he had taken Tecumseh's advice, and fought the Americans before
retreating, the result must have been more glorious at least, if not
entirely favourable to the British arms.” And throughout all his
subsequent retreats we always find Tecumseh stationed in the rear, and
guarding the passes, while the English army continued its flight in
safety; and to such an extent was this cowardly policy carried, that
even when they had resolved to fight, and all their forces were
arranged, we see Tecumseh just on the eve of the battle, going up to
the English general, and telling him that his wing was not
sufficiently advanced. How must Tecumseh's soul have glowed with
indignation when he saw this conduct in one whom he had so faithfully
served, and who, instead of attempting to withdraw himself from the
contest, and thrust forward his allies, ought rather by his example,
to have incited them to deeds of noble daring. Leaving Proctor, and no
doubt deploring the hard fate which had made them acquainted, he
returned to his warriors, and with his return, the battle commenced.
Here was Tecumseh's last struggle. With the first onset of the
Americans, the British lines were broken, and their troops either
surrendered or fled precipitately.—The only resistance, then, to our
victorious arms was found in the right wing, where stood Tecumseh,
with his swarthy band. Conspicuous among his warriors, by a plume of
white feathers, which he wore in his cap, he was seen dealing
destruction around him, and in the most exciting language, was heard
to urge his followers to the onset. Although the regular troops of the
allied army were routed, and Tecumseh saw them flying from the field,
still he, with his trusty band, quailed not. They yet breasted the
storm of war, fighting hand to hand for the position which they first
occupied. But now, when charge followed charge, and mounted infantry,
flushed with success, came rushing impetuous on, and bearing down all
before them, the Indians began to waver, and yielded to the shock. But
no sooner did they turn to fly, than the voice of Tecumseh, who still
stood firm as a mountain rock, was heard rising far above the crash of
arms and din of battle, rallying them, and again cheering them on to
the attack;—again they returned,—but to be beaten back; and again and
again they braved the battle's fiercest shock.—Then fled; but, hark!
no rallying voice recalls them now. The chief with the ostrich plume,
lies low! Tecumseh had fallen! But not alone; for many of his best and
bravest followers lay close around him.
The sequel is soon told. The allied army being routed, the Indians
immediately after, sued for peace, and the spirit of opposition which
had so long been manifested to the measures of the government, was
effectually quelled.
As to the individual who killed Tecumseh, public opinion ever has
been, and still remains divided. Sometime previously to the battle of
the Moravian towns, Colonel Richard M. Johnson, than whom no one bore
himself more gallantly in the north-western war, joined the army, with
a corps of mounted volunteers, from Kentucky. He was present at the
battle of the Thames, and commanded that part of the American army
which was opposed to Tecumseh and his immediate followers. To him has
generally been assigned this honour.[4]
[Footnote 4: See note F.]
“The grave in which Tecumseh's remains were deposited by the Indians,
after the return of the American army, is still to be seen near the
borders of a willow marsh, on the north line of the battleground, with
a large fallen oak tree lying by its side. The willow and wild rose,
are thick around it, but the mound itself is cleared of shrubbery, and
is said to owe its good condition to the occasional visits of his
countrymen.”
A brief mention of the remaining characters of our story, and we have
done.
Oloompa! yes, noble, generous Oloompa! all thy virtues could not save
thee! ill-fated wert thou as the noble chief whom it was thy destiny
to follow. Escaping from the battle of Tippecanoe, he united himself
with Tecumseh immediately upon his return from the south, continued
one of his firmest adherents, and fell fighting by his side, in the
battle which closed his career.
A word of the Prophet.—Tecumseh having forgiven him for his agency in
the ill-timed explosion of their schemes, they again became united,
and the Prophet continued for some time unremitting in his exertions
to unite the Indians. In the records of that period, we frequently
find mention of his wandering about and preaching even up to within a
short time of the battle of the Thames. We can find no evidence of his
having been present in any engagement; yet it would perhaps be unfair
to presume that therefore he was absent, inasmuch as even though
present, he himself would have been overshadowed by the greater fame
of Tecumseh. When, subsequent to the battle of the Thames, the Indians
sued for peace, and began to form treaties with the United States, the
Prophet retired to the neighbourhood of Fort Malden, on the Canada
side of Detroit River, where, without exercising the least influence,
and even despised by the Indians, he continued to reside, a pensioner
on the bounty of the British government, until the time of his death,
not many years since. The general contempt with which he was treated
during his latter days, must in his mind, have been sadly contrasted
with the vast power which he once wielded, and formed a good
commentary on the cruel and treacherous policy which characterized
him. Had he, in his exertions for his countrymen, pursued a different
course, he might have left a more enviable reputation, yet he could
never have equalled Tecumseh; nor could Tecumseh, by possibility, have
played the part assigned to Elkswatawa. Had the brothers succeeded in
the accomplishment of their wishes, volumes would have told the story
of their praise. They failed, their joint endeavours have been almost
forgotten, and even of their history, though so intimately blended, in
the recollection of the public, scarcely any remains save the proud
name of Tecumseh.
We have now to dispose of the hunters and Gay Foreman; and first in
place, comes our old friend Earth, whom to forget would be a crime.
Having, as we have seen, returned with Rolfe to Kentucky, he for some
time devoted himself to the duties of his office: but the exciting
events of the north-western war, calling for the assistance of every
patriot, he buckled on his armour anew, and formed one of the
regiments of mounted volunteers who accompanied Colonel Richard M.
Johnson, to the scene of battle. Upon leaving home, he was still heard
to repeat the words, “take a last brush,” and to caution the boys, as
he called the citizens of his county, “to settle up, and not hold back
merely because he was absent.”
As each one in that gallant corps bore himself bravely, it is needless
to pass encomiums on Earth, but let us take it for granted from what
we know of his character, that he did his duty, and as he himself
would add, “a little extra.” After the close of the campaign, he
returned to Kentucky, and though not then very far advanced in years,
yet he was a weather-beaten and war-worn soldier. Settling down
quietly in life, he also followed Rolfe's good example, and married.
But as it often happens in like resolves, he married directly counter
to all the promises he had made himself; for, notwithstanding his
often avowed predilection for large and fat ladies, he chose for his
partner, one who was remarkably thin and delicate. And some time
after, upon being rallied by Rolfe on his choice, he answered,—“I did
always think, Rolfe, that if by any very singular quirk, I should
happen to be married, that it would be to a large woman. But Polly,”
for so he called his wife, “was an orphan; her father fell fighting
the battles of his country, and her mother dying soon after, she
became dependent on the world's charity. I always thought her a good
girl, Rolfe, and when left alone, her being thin and delicate, I
regarded as a strong reason why she should have a protector, and,
therefore, I have sworn to love and cherish her.”
“Pardon me, Earth,” said Rolfe, “thou art a noble soul, and may the
choicest blessings of heaven attend thee.”
Rolfe, upon his return to Kentucky, was married to Gay Foreman, and
they long lived happy in their domestic relations, beloved by all who
knew them. Assiduous in the discharge of its duties, he won for
himself the highest place in the profession to which he belonged; and
honoured by the confidence of the people, became conspicuous in the
councils of his adopted state, and afterward stood among the foremost
of the Kentucky delegation to the seat of government, where, during
hours of recreation, he was often seen dashing through the streets of
Washington, in a handsome curricle, with his forest bride, whose
powers of conversation, grace of manner, and singular story, rendered
her the idol of every circle she entered, and enabled her to exercise
not less influence in the gay and fashionable world, than did her
husband in the councils of the nation.
APPENDIX.
NOTE A.—_Page 7_.
This being the identical speech sent by General Harrison to the
Indians, on hearing of the burning of the chiefs, we make no apology
for inserting it entire. The beauty of its composition and its
remarkable adaptation to the Indian style, will render it interesting
to every reader, and the spirit of humanity which it breathes does
honor to the head and heart of its accomplished writer.
NOTE B.—_Page 26_.
The speech here attributed to Kenah, is reported by Tanner, who was
thirty years a captive among the Indians, as having been made to him
by one of the Prophet's agents, and he also farther states, ridiculous
as it may seem, “that very many of the Indians killed their dogs and
obeyed the commands of the Prophet, in every particular, as far as it
was practicable.”
NOTE C.—_Page 60_.
The speech which we have here attributed to Tecumseh is reported by
Hunter, in his “Manners and Customs of several Indian Tribes,” to have
been delivered by Tecumseh in his presence to the Osages in Council,
when wandering for the purpose of effecting a general union. We have
given it in order to strengthen the view which we have taken of his
policy.
Hunter thus speaks of Tecumseh and his speech:—
“He addressed them in long, eloquent and pathetic strains, and an
assembly more numerous than had ever been witnessed on any former
occasion, listened to him with an intensely agitated, though
profoundly respectful interest and attention. In fact, so great was
Tecumseh's eloquence, that the chiefs adjourned the council, shortly
after he closed; nor did they finally come to a decision on the great
question in debate, for several days afterward.
“I wish it was in my power to do justice to the eloquence of this
distinguished man; but it is utterly impossible. The richest colours,
shaded with a master's pencil, would fall infinitely short of the
glowing finish of the original. The occasion and subject were
peculiarly adapted to call into action all the powers of genuine
patriotism; and such language, such gestures, and such feelings and
fulness of soul contending for utterance, were exhibited by this
untutored native of the forest in the central wilds of America, as no
audience, I am persuaded, even in ancient or modern days, ever before
listened to.”
The great question here alluded to, was whether or not they should
give their assistance to the English.
NOTE D.—_Page 73_.
We have used the words camp and town as synonymous; they were
literally so. Tippecanoe was at this time the Prophet's residence, and
no sooner did he hear that the whites were marching upon his lands,
than he began to place it in the best state of defence, and actually
bestowed more labour upon it, than was ever before known to be done by
Indians upon any fortification; and at the time we speak of, it was a
regular encampment, fortified on every side.
NOTE E.—_Page 226_.
The following extract from a letter of the Commander of Fort Wayne, to
an American Authority, which we find in that truly interesting work,
“Thatcher's Indian Biography;” will serve to give the reader some
faint idea of the exertions the Brothers were now making for the
promotion of the great cause which lay so near their hearts.
“On the 12th [July, 1812,] the Prophet arrived at this place, with
nearly one hundred Winnebagoes and Kickapoos, who have ever since been
amusing the Indian agents at this place with professions of
friendship, and it is now evident that he has completely duped the
agent who had suffered him to take the lead in all his councils with
the Indians, giving him ammunition, &c. to support his followers until
they can receive a supply from Tecumseh.
“On the 19th instant an express arrived in the Prophet's camp from
Tecumseh. In order that it should make the better speed, the express
stole a horse from some of the inhabitants of the river Raisin, and
rode night and day. The horse gave out within twenty miles of this
place. This messenger was directed by Tecumseh to tell the Prophet to
unite the Indians immediately, and send their women and children
towards the Mississippi, while the warriors should strike a heavy blow
at the inhabitants of Vincennes; and he, Tecumseh, if he lived, would
join him in the country of the Winnebagoes.
“The Prophet found no difficulty in keeping this information to
himself and one or two of his confidential followers, and forming a
story to suit the palate of the agent here; and, on the 20th instant,
he despatched two confidential Kickapoos to effect the objects
Tecumseh had in view. In order that these two Indians might make the
better speed, they stole my two riding-horses, and have gone to the
westward at the rate of one hundred miles in twenty-four hours, at
least. To keep the agent blind to his movements, the Prophet went
early in the morning yesterday, and told the agent that two of his
_bad_ young men were missing, and that he feared they had stole some
horses. The agent found no difficulty in swallowing the bait offered
him, and applauded the Prophet for his honesty in telling of his bad
men, as he called them, stealing my horses.
“To keep up appearances, the Prophet has this morning despatched two
men on _foot_, as he tells the agent, to bring back my horses, &c. He
says he and all his party will certainly attend the Commissioner of
the United States next month at Piqua.
“This he will do, if he finds he cannot raise the western Indians
against the United States; but if he finds the western Indians will
join him, you may rely on it, he will strike a heavy blow, as Tecumseh
says, against the whites in that quarter. You may rely on the
correctness of this statement, as I received information relative to
the views of Tecumseh, last night, from a quarter that cannot be
doubted. The conduct of the agent towards the Prophet, I have been an
eye-witness to.”
NOTE F.—_Page 239_.
As to the individual who had the honor of shooting Tecumseh, public
opinion ever has been, and still remains divided, and though a matter
of no moment in itself, his death has often been discussed with as
much warmth and zeal, as if the ascertaining of who killed him,
involved the settlement of some cardinal principle. This discussion
owes its origin to party feeling, together with the exertions of the
friends of Col. Johnson on the one side to give him the honour, and to
the equally zealous efforts of his opponents on the other to wrest it
from him, without being able to agree on any other individual upon
whom they will bestow it. Could it be proved that Colonel Johnson did
kill Tecumseh, it would add nothing to his fame as a hero; could the
world be convinced that he did not, it would detract nothing from the
glory which he has already won. The settlement of this question,
therefore, even were it in our power, could neither add to, nor take
from his reputation. It has no sort of connexion with his character as
a statesman, and could not affect him otherwise. That he was an able
officer is proved by the success of the division under his command at
the battle of the Thames:—that he was a brave man, and ever present at
the post of danger, is apparent from his having received during that
action five wounds, while a small white mare which he rode, died under
him of sixteen. These facts establish for him the character of an
intrepid and dauntless soldier; while the proving that he killed
Tecumseh could do no more, even if it effected so much.
In the work which I have just written, I profess to set forth the
principal acts, as well as the most striking features in the character
of this celebrated chieftain, and as on that account some information,
or at least a detail of those circumstances which are known relative
to his death, may be expected, I shall give in a concise manner such
particulars of the battle in which he fell as I have often heard
stated in connexion with this event. Before doing so, however, I will
mention the sources from which they have been drawn, and leave the
reader to award to them such a degree of belief as he pleases.
An admiration for the character of Tecumseh, and a desire to obtain as
much information as I could relative to him and the Prophet, induced
me, long before I entertained the idea of attempting to write a novel,
to examine every source which promised to aid me in my wishes.
Travelling much throughout most of our western states, I often met
with persons who were present in many of the engagements which took
place along our north-western line of Posts, during the late war with
Great Britain, and also with several who were actors in the battle of
the Thames, and the exciting events of that period becoming a subject
of conversation, from them I heard many details. From passing
conversations, therefore, and from books, the following facts have
been gathered.
The battle of the Thames was fought on the evening of the 5th of
November, 1813. On the morning of that day the American army, in
pursuit of the English, arrived at Arnold's mills, situated on the
river Thames, and distant twelve miles from the Moravian Towns. By 12
o'clock, the whole army had crossed the river; the ford being too deep
for infantry, each horseman was required to take up a soldier, and the
remainder passed over in boats. No sooner was this effected, than
Colonel Johnson was ordered to hasten forward with his regiment, for
the purpose of ascertaining the number and situation of the enemy, who
were now known to be near at hand. His regiment numbered twelve
hundred men, and allowing for the sick, it always presented an
effective force of at least one thousand. They were all volunteers,
well mounted, and well equipped, burning with a desire for glory, and
anxious to meet the enemy. This was the only part of the American army
which was mounted, and consequently it was the most effective in
pursuit. In pursuance of the order received. Colonel Johnson moved
forward with his regiment, followed as rapidly as was practicable by
the Infantry, and had advanced some ten or twelve miles, when he found
his farther progress checked by the appearance of the English army
drawn up in order of battle, and apparently waiting an attack. A
messenger was despatched with these tidings to General Harrison, and
in the mean time Colonel Johnson drew up his regiment, and remained in
front of the enemy. The English army was stationed not on a plain or
even a partially open space, but entirely in the woods. The left wing,
composed altogether of British regulars, rested on the Thames, and
extended to a swamp which was almost impassable, and which ran
parallel to the river for several miles, and distant from it, only
some two or three hundred yards. Across this swamp, and in a line with
the regulars or left wing, was posted the right wing of the English
army, commanded by Tecumseh, and composed wholly of Indians. The
Infantry of the American army had not yet come up, and the afternoon
was fast wearing away. Colonel Johnson's regiment still remained where
it was first halted, namely, in front of the British regulars, who
were now known to number only some six or seven hundred men, and upon
General Harrison's arrival, Colonel Johnson was ordered, at the
approach of the American Infantry, to file off to the left, take post
in front of the Indians, and leave the Infantry alone to contend with
the British regulars. An examination for some time, of the swamp, on
the other side of which the Indians were posted, proved this to be
impracticable, for at first, no place could be found where it was
possible to cross it. The mounted volunteers were also sanguine of
success, and impatient for immediate action. The plan of battle was
therefore changed; and Colonel Johnson was ordered to divide his
regiment into two lines of five hundred each, and refusing the right
wing, to charge upon the British regulars, while every exertion would
be made to bring up the Infantry to his assistance. The regiment was
divided. To Lieutenant Colonel James Johnson was assigned the command
of the right division, while Colonel Richard M. Johnson retained the
command of the left, and they were in the act of leading the charge,
when information was brought by some persons who had been despatched
for that purpose, that a place had been discovered where it was
practicable to cross the swamp. In consequence of this, Colonel
Richard M. Johnson determined to file off still farther to the left,
cross the swamp, and oppose the Indians, leaving his brother to charge
with his single division against the left wing. His reasons for doing
this were, that Colonel James Johnson insisted, as did likewise the
men who were with him, that they themselves were amply sufficient to
beat the left wing or British regulars, and they also judged it
impossible to employ effectually, a thousand mounted men in a compact
body in the woods, and on so small a strip of land as the one they
then occupied. They also feared lest their numbers, by hindering each
other, should prove injurious to themselves.
Colonel R. M. Johnson, having, as before stated, resolved to cross the
swamp, parted from his brother, each agreeing that the blast of a
bugle was to be the signal for an attack upon each wing at the same
time. Leading his division, he had no sooner crossed the swamp, than
the bugle was heard, and with it, commenced the charge of cavalry.
Colonel James Johnson charged at full speed with his division formed
into five columns, each column presenting a front of but two men
abreast. He received, as he rapidly advanced, the fire of the whole
English force, yet not a man of his division was killed, and in less
than five minutes from the first moment of the charge, the British
ranks were broken, and the men threw down their arms and surrendered
themselves prisoners of war. In this encounter, two or three only of
the volunteers were wounded, while some ten or twelve of the regulars
were killed, and about twice that number wounded. At the same time
that Colonel James Johnson led the charge against the left wing;
Colonel R. M. Johnson led the charge against the Indians or right
wing. At his order, however, his men moved forward at a slow pace, for
no opposing force was visible, and as yet they were charging against
an unseen enemy. They were however prepared, each man was ready for
instant battle, and all were advancing, Colonel Johnson being at the
head of a company of rather more than one hundred men, which was but a
short distance in advance of the remainder of his division, when from
behind each tree sprung a warrior, and the war whoop was yelled, by a
thousand voices, accompanied at the same time by an instantaneous
discharge of fire-arms. This was returned by the cavalry, more than
half the advanced division of which was dismounted at the first fire.
The different companies in the rear however now rushed forward, charge
followed charge, and the battle was maintained with the greatest
obstinacy. The Indians were several times forced to give ground, but
when they did, a voice was heard distinct and clear above the din of
battle, rallying them in the most exciting language, cheering them on
to the attack, and again they returned, and renewed the contest. This
was counter to all former experience in Indian engagements, for, when
once broken, they had heretofore invariably been beaten. When Colonel
Johnson began the charge, he selected from his division twenty men,
and ordered them to remain near his person during the engagement; the
battle had now raged only a short time, and out of the twenty,
nineteen had been either cut down or dismounted;—only one remained by
his side. It was now deemed advisable that the whole division should
dismount, the horses of the soldiers were accordingly turned loose,
and the battle renewed on foot. The soldiers now fought with the
Indians hand to hand, and in several places the appearance was that of
many engaged in single combat, and repeatedly did they struggle for
life or death separated only by the body of a tree. So literally was
the battle in this part of the line fought hand to hand, that the
blood often spurted out from the person killed, upon the one who
killed him. At this stage of the battle, Colonel Johnson occupied the
extreme right of his division, and, as subsequent events proved, he
was directly in front of Tecumseh and his immediate followers, who
occupied the extreme left of their right wing. The Indians numbered
more than a thousand men, and extended for some distance in the woods,
and while Colonel Johnson's division was still warmly engaged,
seasonable assistance was afforded by the remainder of the army, which
had now come up, and the Indians were engaged throughout the whole
extent of their line. Opposite the extreme left of the right wing,
where Colonel Johnson with his division was still fighting, and where
indeed the only contest may be said to have taken place, the Indians
had been several times repulsed since the cavalry were dismounted, yet
still, they continued to rally and return to the attack. It was now
discovered that this was effected by the power of a single chief, who
was conspicuous from his apparel, and also from a plume of white
feathers which he wore in his cap; and in consequence of it, many
efforts were made to cut him off, which for a long time proved
ineffectual; for he was scarcely stationary a moment, but was present
every where, his voice was heard in every quarter, and no sooner was
he seen in one position, and an attempt made upon him, than moving
rapidly away, he occupied another, and was still heard cheering on his
men.
Up to this time, Colonel Johnson had received four wounds; he was shot
through the left arm, hip, knee, and leg, was bleeding freely, and
consequently becoming weak. His mare, from the loss of blood, was also
fast failing him; he was unable to dismount, and even if dismounted
could not move; he therefore saw plainly that if his mare fell before
the Indians were routed, he must inevitably be tomahawked; and to beat
them, there seemed to be no other hope, but by killing the gallant
chief who exercised so powerful an influence over them.
Colonel Johnson was still in advance of his division, and the weakness
of his mare admonished him that she could stand up but a short time
longer, when he saw at a distance of about thirty or forty yards from
him, the chief whom he was anxious to meet. He had at the instant when
discovered, stopped at the root of a large fallen tree, the top or
branches of which serving somewhat as a cover, Colonel Johnson moved
forward, with a determination to meet him in single combat. At this
time, he had only one loaded pistol, which he cocked, and holding it
in his right hand, pressed it close against the saddle, and rather
behind him, for the purpose of concealing it; his bridle he held in
his left hand, and in this situation he advanced. His mare could now
only walk, and even in that gait, her step was unsteady, yet, he
reached the top of the tree, and was as yet undiscovered, but in
endeavouring to get round it, for the purpose of placing himself on
the same side with the chief, and also approaching near enough to
render his own fire certainly effectual, his mare became entangled in
some of its branches, and in endeavouring to free herself, arrested
the attention of the chief, who instantly moved forward a step or two,
and raising his rifle, deliberately shot at Colonel Johnson, who still
continued to advance. His ball entered the left hand of Colonel
Johnson, between the first and second fingers; shattered his wrist,
and then glanced off—causing his hand to relax the grasp of the
bridle, and fall powerless by his side; yet his mare, still reeling,
walked forward. The chief having discharged his rifle, quickly changed
it to his left hand, drew from his belt his tomahawk, and sprung
forward. Colonel Johnson's pistol was still concealed, and he seemed
only to be armed with the sword which hung at his side, and thus they
now advanced. They had approached so near, that the chief raised his
arm, as if in the act to throw his tomahawk, for he was not near
enough to strike with it, when Colonel Johnson raised his pistol. It
was unexpected, and the chief recoiled a step at the sight. Colonel
Johnson then fired, and the chief sprung in the air, and fell dead.
The Indians uttered a cry of lamentation, immediately fled, and the
battle was ended; no resistance being made after the fall of the
chief.
The most remarkable circumstance which I have ever heard relative to
this event, and I believe it to be well authenticated, is, that when
Colonel Johnson and the chief were advancing upon each other, the
former was in the presence of the Indian force, and might have been
shot down at any time during the encounter; but they forebore to fire
upon him, and all pausing, gazed in silence, and left the two brave
chiefs to decide the matter themselves.
Thus, I believe, fell Tecumseh. I say so, for that he was killed in
that part of the line whore Colonel Johnson was himself posted, has
never yet been questioned; and though unknown at the time of his
death, yet, when recognized, he was found lying by a large fallen
tree, pierced with three wounds, a pistol ball, and two buckshot. The
person who loaded Colonel Johnson's pistols on the day of the battle,
deposed that such was the load he placed in each; it was usual to fire
with single balls, and no other pistols than Colonel Johnson's were
proved to have been differently loaded on the same day. The balls
which entered the breast of Tecumseh ranged downwards, a proof that
the person who shot him, must have been on horseback, or rather above
him; with the exception of Colonel Johnson, and a friend who acted as
his aid, no other persons were on horseback in that part of the line,
at the time when Tecumseh fell, and the Indians fled. Another reason
for this opinion is, that Colonel Johnson's hat, and also the scabbard
belonging to his sword, were found lying near Tecumseh.
The Indians having fled, several friends led Colonel Johnson's horse a
short distance from the field, that his wounds might be attended to,
and upon being lifted from his mare, she immediately sunk and died.
When examined, she was found to have been shot in sixteen places.
Such are the details, as I have often heard them stated, relative to
the death of Tecumseh, and a careful examination of the subject
induces me to believe that they are entitled to the fullest belief.
THE END.