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RAND-SUN was a chief of the Natchez tribe. Sun was a common name for all
chiefs of that nation; this chief was particularly distinguished in the
first war with the French, in which the Natchez engaged, and the title
of Great-Sun was given him by his people. He was brave, wise, and
generous, and a friend to the whites until the haughty and overbearing
disposition of one man brought ruin upon the whole colony. The affair
occurred in 1729.
Grand-Sun resided in the beautiful village called White Apple, near the
French post of Natchez, the commandant of which was M. Chopart. This
officer had been removed from his post on account of his misconduct and
and abominable injustice towards the Indians, but had been reinstated,
and his conduct had been the same as before. He projected the building
an elegant village, and none appeared to suit his purpose so well as
the White Apple of Grand-Sun. He sent for the chief to the fort, and
unhesitatingly told him that he must give up his village, and remove
elsewhere. Grand-Sun stifled his surprise, and replied, “that his
ancestors had lived in that village for as many years as there were
hairs in his double queu, and, therefore, it was good that they should
continue there still.” This was interpreted to the commandant, and he
became so enraged, that he threatened Grand-Sun with punishment if he
did not comply.
A council of the Natchez was held. They saw that all was hopeless,
unless they could rid themselves of Chopart by some stratagem.
They decided to attempt it. To gain time, an offer was made to the
commandant, of tribute, in case he should permit them to remain on their
lands until harvest. The offer was accepted, and the Indians matured
their plan. Bundles of sticks were sent to the neighboring tribes, and
their meaning explained. Each bundle contained as many sticks as days
before the massacre of the French at Natchez; and that no mistake should
arise in regard to the fixed day, every morning a stick was drawn from
the bundle and broken in pieces, and the day of the last stick was that
of the execution.
The secret was confided to none but the older warriors, who could be
depended upon. But Grand-Sun was compelled to make a great sacrifice of
private feeling in revenging the wrongs of his countrymen. He had
won the respect and esteem of several of the French hunters by his
generosity and other noble qualities; and the very intimate acquaintance
of one of them in particular. This was Armand Griffin, whose family
resided at Natchez, while he engaged in the laborious but profitable
business of hunting. Grand-Sun and Griffin had become close friends. The
hospitable door of the chief’s wigwam was ever open to the hunter, and
the latter frequently visited him, Grand-Sun had instructed him in all
the mysteries of woodcraft, and Griffin being naturally of a daring and
restless temper, had become one of the boldest and best hunters in that
part of the country. In return, he instructed Grand-Sun in many of the
arts of the white man, and thus mutual services strengthened the links
of friendship.
When Grand-Sun had matured his scheme of revenge, he thought of the
situation of Griffin’s family, and without hinting his purpose, advised
the hunter to remove them for a time. But he either would not or could
not, disregarding the earnest entreaties of the chief to that effect.
As the appointed day approached, and the security of feeling among the
French promised success to the scheme of massacre, Grand-Sun renewed
his entreaties, but still without daring to disclose the secret intent.
Griffin not only said that his family must remain at the post, but that
he himself must be there upon the day which the chief knew was fixed
for the dreadful revenge. After a struggle between friendship and
patriotism, the chief with stoic fortitude resolved to sacrifice his
friend rather than disclose his scheme and thus trust to the white man’s
faith for keeping such a secret.
About sunset the day before the massacre, Griffin and Grand-Sun, who had
been out hunting during the day, arrived at the verge of the village of
White Apple. A crowd of red men were assembled to welcome their great
chief. The friends stopped upon an elevated piece of ground near the
Indians. Grand-Sun had just been urging upon his friend the removal of
his family from the fort. But as Griffin had given signs of beginning to
suspect something wrong, he suddenly checked his persuasive appeal and
taking his hand, thus bade him farewell for ever.
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“White man, you are my friend. We have eat, slept, and hunted together.
My wigwam ever welcomed you, and you repaid me. The belt of friendship
has been brighten between us, and it should not be soiled. The great
fire of day is fast going out, and you must return to your pretty wife
and children. When it shall again be kindled, many things may be done
which may part us for ever. Farewell!” The bold hunter was affected by
the manner of the chief, and for a while hung his head as if a gloom
had come over him. But rousing himself, he bade the chief farewell, and
returned to the post at Natchez.
Suspecting what he should have suspected long before, Griffin, as
soon as he returned to the fort, bade his wife and children prepare
themselves for leaving the place, and she complied, with many questions
concerning the reason for this strange movement. Griffin could not
exactly say. But he had resolved to leave the fort, and take shelter
in a neighboring Indian village belonging to the Natchez, and in an
opposite direction from White Apple. Here he had a friend, and he would
feel secure. The escape was accomplished.
The next day the fort was surprised and the whole body of the French
within the fort and its neighborhood were massacred. Griffin and his
family, and a few hunters alone escaped, and all these through the
interposition of Grand-Sun, who thus remained true to friendship, while
he maintained and executed his scheme for relieving his countrymen from
the oppressor. This great chief not long afterwards, was taken prisoner
by a French expedition from Louisiana, his people almost annihilated,
and he, the “last of his line,” died in his dungeon! Griffin ever
cherished his memory, and exerted himself to save him, but in vain. The
white man was relentless.
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