among the Creeks and Seminoles, persuading them to join his confederacy.
It is said that where he could not persuade he threatened. One story
illustrating his manner of dealing with those that resisted him is as
follows: Visiting a tribe which listened coldly to his words and seemed
unwilling to take part in his plans he suddenly lost all patience. With
fierce gestures and a terrible look he shouted: "You do not think what I
say is true. You do not believe this is the wish of the Great Spirit. I
will show you. When I reach Detroit I will stamp my foot on the earth
and the earth will tremble and shake your houses down about your ears."
The tale goes on to say that after due time had elapsed for Tecumseh to
reach Detroit an earthquake shook down all the dwellings of the village
he had left in anger. Whether this is true or not, Tecumseh certainly
had wonderful influence over all tribes. Governor Harrison wrote to the
Secretary of War about him: "If it were not for the vicinity of the
United States, he would perhaps be the founder of an empire that would
rival in glory Mexico or Peru. No difficulties deter him. For four years
he has been in constant motion. You see him to-day on the Wabash, and in
a short time hear of him on the shores of Lake Erie or Michigan, or on
the banks of the Mississippi; and wherever he goes he makes an
impression favorable to his purpose. He is now upon the last round to
put a finishing stroke to his work. I hope, however, before his return
that that part of the work which he considered complete will be
demolished, and even its foundation rooted up."
In the meantime Tecumseh trusted Governor Harrison with child-like
simplicity. It seems not to have occurred to him that the Governor would
not remain inactive until he had completed his arrangements and opened
the war. Indeed, there were those at Washington who also thought this
was what Harrison would and ought to do; that is, keep on the defensive
until the Indians made some outbreak.
This was not the feeling on the frontier, however. The frontiersmen were
in no humor to sit still and wait for the Indians to scalp them at their
plows or burn them in their beds. Their cry was, "On to Tippecanoe!"
This spirit was in accord with the Governor's inclination. A man of
action, and bred to military life, Harrison favored prompt, vigorous
measures. He believed this a favorable time for an attack on the
Prophet's town. Tecumseh was well out of the way, and had left orders
for the tribes to remain at peace during his absence. As many would
hesitate to disobey his command, there would be no united resistance.
Besides, the Prophet had been left in charge, and a victory over him
would destroy the Indians' faith in his supernatural power. This faith
Harrison had come to regard as the backbone of the Indian alliance.
Moreover, the British were not in a position to give the Indians open
assistance and they would learn from a few battles fought without their
aid how little trust was to be put in British promises.
For these reasons, Harrison wrote to the War Department urging immediate
action and asking for troops and authority to march against Tippecanoe.
The troops were granted, but with the instruction that President
Madison wished peace with the Indians preserved if possible.
X. THE BATTLE OF TIPPECANOE
In August, in the year 1811, Governor Harrison sent stern "speeches" to
the Indian tribes, threatening them with punishment if they did not
cease their preparations for war and comply with his demands.
On September the twenty-fifth the Prophet's reply arrived at Vincennes.
He gave repeated assurances that the Indians had no intention of making
war on the settlers, and he promised to comply with whatever demands the
Governor might make. To this message Harrison sent no answer.
The Governor was now ready for action. He had a force of about a
thousand fighting men. The militia were reinforced by three hundred
regulars, and one hundred and thirty mounted men, under a brave
Kentuckian, J. H. Daveiss, who wanted a share in the glory of an
encounter with the Indians. Later two companies of mounted riflemen were
added to this force. Harrison sent a detachment of men up the river to
build a fort on the new land. By this act he took formal possession of
it.
He felt his hands tied by the President's instructions to avoid war with
the Indians if possible, and awaited developments with impatience. He
expected the Indians to oppose in some way the building of the
fort--and his expectations were at length realized. One of the
sentinels who kept guard while the soldiers worked on the fort was shot
and severely wounded. Harrison thought this might be regarded as the
opening of hostilities, and determined to march upon the Prophet's town.
A letter from the War Department received at about this time left him
free to carry out his plans.
It was late in October before the new fort, named Fort Harrison in honor
of the Governor, was finished, and the force ready to leave. Then
Harrison sent messengers to the Prophet demanding that the Indians
should return stolen horses to their owners, and surrender Indians who
had murdered white men. He also demanded that the Winnebagoes,
Pottawottomies and Kickapoos who were at Tippecanoe should return to
their tribes. Without waiting for a reply or appointing a time or place
where the Prophet's answer might find him, Harrison began his march on
Tippecanoe. Through the disputed land the armed forces marched; on, on,
into the undisputed territory of the Indians.
Still they met with no opposition. Not an Indian was seen until November
the sixth, when the troops were within eleven miles of Tippecanoe. And
although many of them were seen from that time on, they could not be
tempted to any greater indiscretion than the making of threatening signs
in response to the provoking remarks of the interpreters. When within
two miles of Tippecanoe, Harrison found himself and his army in a
dangerous pass that offered the Indians a most inviting chance for an
ambush. But he was not molested.
When the troops were safe in the open country once more, Harrison held a
conference with his officers. All were eager to advance at once and
attack the town. They held that if there was any question about the
right or the necessity of an attack it should have been decided before
they started; now that they had arrived at the stronghold of the Indians
there was only one safe course, and that was immediate attack.
Perhaps the circumstances of the march had persuaded Harrison of the
sincerity of the Indians' plan for peace, and he felt that after all the
affair might be settled without bloodshed. At any rate, he was most
reluctant to comply with the wishes of his aids. But at last yielding to
their urgency he gave the order to advance and storm the town. Scarcely
had he done so, however, before he was turned from his purpose by the
arrival of messengers from the Prophet begging that the difficulties be
settled without a battle. Harrison sent back word that he had no
intention of making an attack unless the Prophet refused to concede to
his demands. He consented to suspend hostilities for the night and give
Tenskwatawa a hearing in the morning.
Greatly against the will of his officers, who had no faith in the
Indians' professions of friendliness and saw that every hour of delay
might be put to good use by the Prophet, Harrison encamped for the
night. He seems to have had little fear of an attack, as he did not
even fortify his camp with intrenchments. But his men slept on their
arms that night, and, although no sound from the Indian village
disturbed the stillness, there was a general feeling of restlessness.
Between four and five in the morning, in the dark that comes before the
dawn, a sentinel's shot followed by the Indian yell brought every man to
his feet. As the soldiers stood in the light of the camp fires, peering
into the blackness with cocked muskets, they were shot down by savages,
who rushed upon them with such force that they broke the line of guards
and made an entrance into the camp. Had the number of assailants been
greater, or had Harrison been less alert, they would doubtless have
created a panic. But Harrison was already up and on the point of rousing
his soldiers when the alarm sounded. With perfect self-possession he
rode about where bullets were flying thickest, giving orders and
encouraging his men.
The brave Daveiss, having gained Harrison's consent, recklessly plunged
with only a few followers into a thicket to dislodge some Indians who
were firing upon the troops at close range. He was soon surrounded and
shot down.
The Indians fought with great persistence and kept up the attack for two
hours, during which the troops held their ground with admirable
firmness. As day dawned the Indians gradually withdrew.
Harrison's situation was perilous. Counting killed and wounded he had
already lost one hundred and fifty fighting men. The Indians might
return at any moment in larger numbers to attack his exhausted force.
Provisions were low and it was cold and raining. The men stood at their
posts through the day without food or fire. All day and all night the
soldiers kept watch. The second day, the horsemen cautiously advanced to
the town. To their relief they found it empty. The Indians had evidently
fled in haste, leaving behind large stores of provisions. Harrison's
troops helped themselves to what they wanted, burned the deserted town,
and returned to Vincennes with rapid marches.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF TIPPECANOE]
As a result of the battle of Tippecanoe, Harrison was the hero of the
hour. News of the destruction of the Prophet's town carried cheer into
every white man's cabin on the frontier.
XI. REORGANIZATION OF THE INDIANS
Of the six hundred Indians that Harrison estimated had taken part in the
battle of Tippecanoe, thirty-eight were found dead on the field. Though
that was not a large number from a white man's point of view, the
Indians regarded the loss of thirty-eight of their warriors as no light
matter.
But that was not the heaviest blow to the confederation that Tecumseh
and the Prophet had worked so hard to establish. Tippecanoe had been
regarded with superstitious veneration as the Prophet's town, a sort of
holy city, under the special protection of the Great Spirit. The
destruction of the town, therefore, seriously affected the reputation of
the Prophet.
It is hard to tell what part the Prophet played in the attack on
Governor Harrison's forces. In their anxiety to escape punishment from
the United States government many Indians who were known to have taken
part in the battle excused their conduct by saying they had acted in
obedience to the Prophet's directions. They told strange stories of his
urging them to battle with promises that the Great Spirit would protect
them from the bullets of the enemy.
On the other hand, the Prophet said the young men who would not listen
to his commands were to blame for the trouble.
The fact that the Indians did not follow up their advantage over
Harrison, and instead of renewing the attack with their full force,
fled from him, would indicate that there certainly was a large party in
favor of peace. It seems probable that that party was made up of the
Prophet and his most faithful followers, rather than of those Indians
who, while pretending to be the friends of the United States and
accusing the Prophet, admitted that they had done the fighting.
Tenskwatawa had had advice from the British, and strict orders from
Tecumseh to remain at peace, and he had shown in many ways his anxiety
to appease Harrison and keep the Indians from doing violence. For some
time the influence of Tenskwatawa and Tecumseh had been more to restrain
and direct than to excite the anger of the Indians which had been
kindled by the treaty of 1809, and was ready to break out at any
instant. It is hard, too, to believe that young warriors who had never
been trained to act on the defensive could be constrained to wait until
they were attacked, and so lose the advantage to be gained by surprising
the enemy, or that they could be made to withdraw without striking a
blow.
But however blameless the Prophet may have been, he suffered for a time,
as Harrison had supposed he would. He was the scapegoat on whom all
placed the responsibility for the battle of Tippecanoe. Even Tecumseh is
said to have rebuked him bitterly for not holding the young men in
check.
That Tecumseh disapproved of the affair is evident from the answer he
sent the British, who advised him to avoid further encounters with the
Americans:
"You tell us to retreat or turn to one side should the Big Knives come
against us. Had I been at home in the late unfortunate affair I should
have done so; but those I left at home were--I cannot call them men--a
poor set of people, and their scuffle with the Big Knives I compared to
a struggle between little children who only scratch each other's faces."
[Illustration: INDIANS THREATENING "THE PROPHET"]
In the spring, Tecumseh presented himself at Vincennes saying that he
was now ready to go to Washington to visit the President. The Governor,
however, gave him a cold welcome, telling him that if he went he must go
alone. Tecumseh's pride was hurt and he refused to go unless he could
travel in a style suited to the dignity of a great chief, the leader of
the red men.
Harrison soon learned that the brothers were again at Tippecanoe, with
their loyal followers, rebuilding the village and strengthening their
forces.
In April, 1812, a succession of horrible murders on the frontier alarmed
the settlers. A general uprising of the Indians was expected daily. The
militiamen refused to leave their families unprotected. The Governor was
unable to secure the protection of the United States troops. Panic
spread along the border; whole districts were unpeopled. Men, women, and
children hastened to the forts or even to Kentucky for safety. There was
fear that Vincennes would be overpowered.
Had the Indians chosen this time to strike, they could have done
terrible mischief. But Tecumseh's voice was still for peace. At a
council held in May, he said:
"Governor Harrison made war on my people in my absence; it was the will
of God that he should do so. We hope it will please the Great Spirit
that the white people may let us live in peace. We will not disturb
them, neither have we done it, except when they come to our village with
the intention of destroying us. We are happy to state to our brothers
present that the unfortunate transaction that took place between the
white people and a few of our young men at our village, has been settled
between us and Governor Harrison; and I will further state that had I
been at home there would have been no bloodshed at that time.
* * * * *
"It is true, we have endeavored to give all our brothers good advice,
and if they have not listened to it we are sorry for it. We defy a
living creature to say we ever advised any one, directly or indirectly,
to make war on our white brothers. It has constantly been our misfortune
to have our view misrepresented to our white brothers. This has been
done by the Pottawottomies and others who sell to the white people land
that does not belong to them."
XII. TECUMSEH AND THE BRITISH
Greatly as Tecumseh wished the Indians to remain at peace with the
citizens of the United States, he saw that it was impossible for them to
do so unless they were willing to give up their lands. The British,
meanwhile, promised to regain for the Indians all the land north of the
Ohio River and east of the Alleghany Mountains. They roused in the heart
of Tecumseh the hope that the old boundaries between the territory of
the Indians and the territory of the white man would be reestablished.
When war broke out in 1812, between Great Britain and the United States,
Tecumseh joined the British at Malden. In making this alliance he was
not influenced by any kindly feeling toward the British. He simply did
what seemed to him for the best interests of the Indians.
At the outset, fortune favored the British flag. Fort Mackinac, in
northern Michigan, fell into the hands of a force of British and
Indians. Detroit was surrendered to General Brock without resistance.
Fort Dearborn, at Chicago, was burned and its garrison was massacred by
the Indians. The English seemed in a fair way to fulfill their promise
of driving the American settlers from the Northwest. Fort Harrison and
Fort Wayne were the only strongholds of importance left to guard the
frontier. These forts Tecumseh planned to take by stratagem.
[Illustration: FORT DETROIT IN 1812]
The victories of the British won to their side the tribes that had
hesitated, and hundreds of warriors flocked to the standard of Tecumseh.
He became an important and conspicuous figure in the war. His bravery,
his knowledge of the country, and his large following made it possible
for him to give his allies invaluable aid. Without Tecumseh and his
Indians the British war in the West would have been a slight affair.
The Americans fitted out a large military force to retake Detroit, and
overthrow the Indians who threatened the settlements. General Harrison
was put in command of the expedition. He set out with his army in grand
array, but was unable to reach Detroit because of the swampy condition
of the land over which he must march. He was forced to camp on the
Maumee River. His advance into the territory of the Indians thwarted the
enterprise that Tecumseh had set on foot against Fort Wayne.
While Harrison was encamped at Fort Meigs there were several encounters
between the hostile forces. A division of Harrison's army, under General
Winchester, having allowed itself to become separated from the main
army, was attacked on the River Raisin by a party of British and
Indians. After a fierce struggle the remnant of General Winchester's
force surrendered to the British. In the absence of Tecumseh many of the
prisoners were cruelly massacred by the Indian victors.
Major Richardson's description of General Winchester's men gives us a
good idea of the hardihood of the frontier soldiers, and shows us how
they came to be called "Long Knives" by the Indians:
"It was the depth of winter; but scarcely an individual was in
possession of a great coat or cloak, and few of them wore garments of
wool of any description. They still retained their summer dress,
consisting of cotton stuff of various colors shaped into frocks, and
descending to the knee. Their trousers were of the same material. They
were covered with slouched hats, worn bare by constant use, beneath
which their long hair fell matted and uncombed over their cheeks; and
these, together with the dirty blankets wrapped round their loins to
protect them against the inclemency of the season, and fastened by broad
leathern belts, into which were thrust axes and knives of an enormous
length, gave them an air of wildness and savageness."
[Illustration: ONE OF THE "LONG KNIVES"]
Later, General Proctor, who had succeeded General Brock in command of
the British forces at Detroit, laid siege to Fort Meigs. Tecumseh, who
took part in the siege, was anxious to meet the enemy in open country.
He sent the following unceremonious challenge to his old acquaintance:
"General Harrison: I have with me eight hundred braves. You have
an equal number in your hiding place. Come out with them and give
me battle. You talked like a brave when we met at Vincennes, and I
respected you; but now you hide behind logs and in the earth, like
a ground-hog. Give me answer.
TECUMSEH."
When Harrison did venture to send out a detachment it was beaten by the
Indians, and many of the Americans were made prisoners. For all the
effort General Proctor made to prevent it, a terrible massacre might
have followed this victory. Just as the Indians had begun to murder the
prisoners, Tecumseh rode upon the scene of slaughter. When he saw what
was going on he exclaimed in a passion of regret and indignation, "Oh,
what will become of my Indians!" He rushed into the midst of the
savages, rescued the man they were beginning to torture, and, with
uplifted tomahawk, dared the whole horde to touch another prisoner. They
cowered before him, deeply ashamed of their conduct.
On discovering that General Proctor was present, Tecumseh demanded
impatiently why he had not interfered to prevent the massacre. General
Proctor answered that Tecumseh's Indians could not be controlled. To
this Tecumseh responded with scorn: "Say, rather, you are unable to
command. Go put on petticoats."
In September, 1813, Commodore Perry's splendid victories on Lake Erie
gave to the Americans control of the Lakes, and this made it impossible
for the British to hold Detroit and Malden. Harrison was advancing with
a land force to take these towns and General Proctor was eager to get
out of his way. He began to prepare for retreat, but tried to conceal
his purpose from Tecumseh. The latter's suspicions were aroused,
however, and he demanded a council, in which he made his last formal
speech. He spoke boldly and bitterly against General Proctor's course.
He said:
"You always told us you would never draw your foot off British ground;
but now, father, we see that 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 on its back, but
when affrighted it drops it between its legs and runs off. Father,
listen! The Americans have not yet defeated us by land; neither are we
sure 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 retreat with our father. * * * We now see our British father
preparing to march out of his stronghold. Father, you have the arms and
ammunition which our great father sent to his red children. If you have
an idea of going away, give them to us and you may go and welcome. For
us, 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."
Notwithstanding the wish of Tecumseh, General Proctor kept his purpose
to retreat. He promised, however, that if they were pursued by the
Americans he would turn at the first favorable site and give them
battle. Accordingly, Tecumseh accompanied the retreating General. He
repeatedly urged Proctor to keep his promise and face the enemy. On the
fifth of October, Proctor learned that the American forces were at his
heels. Valor, therefore, seemed the better part of discretion, and,
choosing a ridge between the Thames River and a swamp, he arranged his
forces for battle.
Colonel Richard M. Johnson managed the charge of the Americans. One
division of his regiment, under command of his brother, attacked and
quickly routed the British regulars under General Proctor. The other
division he himself led against Tecumseh's Indians.
The Indians waited under protection of the thick brush until the
horsemen were within close range; then in response to Tecumseh's war cry
all fired. Johnson's advance guard was nearly cut down. The horses could
not advance. Johnson ordered his men to dismount and a terrible struggle
followed. Soon Tecumseh was shot, and, the Indians missing him, gave up
the battle and fled. One of them afterwards described the defeat in a
few words: "Tecumseh fell and we all ran."
The war was now ended in the Northwest. The Americans had regained the
posts taken by the British; they had subdued the Indians, and gained
possession of the lands in the Wabash Valley. The power of the Prophet
was destroyed. Tecumseh was dead. The Long Knives had crushed forever
the Confederacy of Tecumseh, but it had taken upward of five million
dollars and an army of twenty thousand men to do it.
THE STORY OF OSCEOLA
BY FRANCES M. PERRY
THE STORY OF OSCEOLA
I. THE EXODUS OF THE RED STICKS
The sun was low in the west and sent long shafts of light across the
tops of the trees that bordered a quiet, shining lake in northern
Florida. It shone upon a company of Indians who were straggling along
the shore, and made their bright turbans and many colored calicoes look
gay in spite of dirt and tatters.
The company was a large one. In it were not only braves, but also squaws
and pappooses, and a few negroes. They trooped along with the unhurried
swiftness and easy disarray of men and women who have journeyed for many
days and have many days of travel still before them.
Here and there a strapping brave bestrode a horse, while his squaw
trudged beside him, sharing with a black slave the burden of household
goods. But for the most part ceremony had given way to necessity and the
warriors went afoot, leaving the horses and mules to carry the old men,
aged squaws, and young children, who were too feeble to walk.