REV. MR. WILLIAMS AT GREEN BAY; IMPORTANCE OF HIS RELATIONS THERE, &c.
It happened, that the Rev. Mr. Williams, the subject of the foregoing
Chapter, was at the head of all the movements of the New York Indians,
which induced them to emigrate, and finally planted them in the
North-West Territory. Being himself a chief, and more accustomed to the
world than his brethren, and well qualified for business, he always
took the lead in all the negotiations with the general Government.
Like Moses of old, he was captain of the tribes, religiously and
politically. Like Joshua, he went into the promised land with his own
people, and settled them there; and stationed himself in the midst of
them, still their pastor and leader. He had succeeded in introducing
into the North-West Territory, and settling on the banks and near the
mouth of Fox River, two of the most cultivated and most important
of the New York tribes:--the Oneidas and Stockbridges--with every
prospect, if things had gone on well, of bringing all the rest after
them. Mr. Williams had indulged the pleasing hope of instituting, under
the protection and patronage, pledged by the Government of the United
States, a new and bright era in the history of American Aborigines. His
public character and private worth had not only given him a well-earned
and merited ascendancy among the Indians; but a high and commanding
influence with the Government. He was widely known, well esteemed,
and universally respected. And his appearance and manners, from
childhood accustomed to the world in all its various shapes, portly in
person, dignified in mien, condescending, courteous, and affable--and
withal developing equally the European and Indian character, in all
the expressions of his countenance, and in the exhibitions of his
temper--showed him at once a man made for respect and influence.
Soon after Mr. Williams’s removal to Green Bay, he married a daughter
of a Mr. Jordon of that settlement, himself a Frenchman, and his wife a
pure Indian, of the Menomenie tribe in that region. In this particular,
viz. of having an equal share of European blood, Mr. Williams and his
wife were alike. And in all the excellencies, which adorn the female
character, Mrs. Williams was not inferior to her husband, as a man.
Although myself and Mr. Williams had been a long time separate, and
had not met more than once, and that only for a few moments, from 1806
to 1830, we yet had all the reasons, characteristic of the romantic
attachments of our earliest years, to cherish the kindest affections
towards each other. We had kept the traces of each other’s history in
the meantime, and each had rejoiced in the other’s welfare; and it was
as great mutual pleasure, as it was unexpected, to meet once more on
such interesting ground; and on an occasion so interesting, as that,
which had brought me to Green Bay, in August 1830.
The next day after our arrival at Green Bay, I found myself in an
Indian canoe, for the first time in my life, paddled by two wild
Indians, ascending the Fox River, in company with Mr. Williams to his
residence, eight miles above the settlement at the river’s mouth. This
unwonted and novel condition, in such a bark (_literally_ a bark) and
in such society, was associated with many interesting recollections.
And as may be imagined, we talked over and lived again the scenes of
childhood. We talked and lived again the years we had spent apart.
We blessed and adored that Providence, which had kept and guided us
through so many eventful scenes. We wondered at the concurrence of
events, which had thus thrown us together, and rather dreamt over it as
a vision, than realized it as sober fact.
Our first snug adjustment, however, in the canoe, is worthy of a
passing remark. He who has never stepped foot in this floating thing,
must take good heed, that he do not venture to _stand_ upon his
feet, and that he get himself, as soon as convenient, “squat like a
toad” (_alias_, like an Indian) in the bottom of the canoe;--else he
will find the light and fickle bark quickly rolling and pitching him
head-foremost into the watery element. Nothing is more deceptive and
treacherous, than an Indian canoe, to him who is unaccustomed to its
whims. It is scarcely possible for such a person to get seated in it
without upsetting. And yet the Indian, who understands its temper, will
so adjust himself and so work his muscular powers, as to anticipate
and feel all its sudden and fitful movements, and defy its instinctive
and mischievous attempts to dislodge him into the deep. He will
stand, or walk, or sit, as suits himself;--or mount with either foot
on either rim;--and compel the vicious and wayward thing to a quick
obedience of his will. It is itself as light as an airy nothing, and
bounds over the tops of the waves, like the skipping steps of a fairy
sprite, darting forward to gratify its own humour. My own awkward
attempts to adjust myself in this whimsical thing, even after all the
benefit of advice, was the occasion of no little merriment to the two
wild Menomenies, who were to be the paddlers, and to others of the
tribe, who witnessed the embarkation. Even Mr. Williams, with all his
politeness, could not keep his gravity, but was forced to join heartily
in the merry peal, which showered upon me from these simple children of
nature. Side by side, however, and at last, Mr. Williams and myself sat
in the bottom of the canoe, on a mat woven from the stock of wild rice,
and began to ascend the Fox River, smooth and swift, as the Indians
dipped their paddles, and awakened the instinctive life of their airy
bark.
One of our paddlers was a man of forty, the other a youth of
eighteen--both painted, with little covering, except a blanket
carelessly pendant from the shoulder, or belted round the waist; and a
feather or two stuck in the hair, on the crown of the head. The elder
had his whiskey bottle, and the younger his rifle lying at his feet.
“And here we are, Mr. Williams. How strange! What a scene is this!”--
“Indeed, Sir, and did we dream of it, when we run around the brick
school-house in the street of Long Meadow, and played our boyish pranks
in that never-to-be-forgotten and delightful retreat?”
“And do you remember the dress you wore, when first your father brought
you from Canada--and what infinite sport you and your brother John made
for the children of the school, by the strangeness of your manners, and
your Indian whims, before you had learned to accommodate yourselves to
such a state of discipline?”
“My memory,” said Mr. Williams, tapping his forehead with his finger,
as much like a Frenchman, as an Indian, and winking a smile of great
significance--“my memory records those scenes, as if they were the
recurrence of yesterday; and I remember, too, that we did not take
your ridicule in very good part. And do you not think that you, little
fellows, were rather impolite?--And did we not give you a rap, or two,
for such disrespect?”
“Indeed, you made yourselves quite the terror of the school, for a
little. For nothing, you know, is more frightful in story, to a white
man’s child, than the thought of an Indian. He would run from an Indian
before he were hatched.”
“And what have you heard lately of my good and venerable father Ely’s
family? Blessed be their memory! And what do I not owe them! Some are
in heaven; and where are the rest? And all my old friends and patrons
in New England--I cannot name them, they are so many?”
“The Elys, all, as you may well believe, who are not saints in heaven,
are on their way.”
“I should be base, indeed--I could never respect myself, to forget even
for a day the family, who took and cherished my childhood;--and to
whom, under God, I owe all that I am more than my brethren of the St.
Regis Tribe, in Lower Canada.”
And much and various talk of early and later days, of trifling and more
important events, occupied the hour or two, while the canoe was made
to stem the current, and bore us along between the wild and romantic
shores of Fox River, towards the humble and solitary log-cabin of the
Rev. Mr. Williams, perched upon the right bank, ascending; and skirted
by what is called an _oak-opening_, or more properly, an _orchard_ of
oaks, scattered here and there, near enough for a shady grove, but too
distant to make a forest proper. The beauty of Fox River and of its
wooded banks, is hardly to be exceeded by any thing of the kind. Every
thing is soft and picturesque to the full satisfaction of the soul. The
mind, in contemplating the shifting scene, drinks in pleasure, as if
from the current of the river of life.
A little incident in this excursion is perhaps worthy of notice. As the
canoe was gliding smoothly along near the shore, a sudden agitation
of the bark summoned my attention to the young man forward, who had
dropped his paddle, and grasped and fired his rifle at an object in
the high grass, under the bank, but invisible to any eye, but that
of an Indian;--and all so quick, that one could hardly say, it had
occupied time. The rifle was discharged, before I could even look up;
and the Indian’s fiery glance, and cry of--“Umph!” followed a deer, as
he leaped up the bank, and bounded into the wood. The rifle, as I have
called it by mistake, was a shot-gun;--and having been loaded only for
water-fowl, could effect no more, than to pepper the poor animal, and
make him feel uncomfortable; and perhaps extinguish the light of an
eye. The young man seemed greatly vexed to have lost his game.
After being made acquainted with Mrs. Williams, who set us
refreshments, a walk was proposed and taken, along the elevated brow of
a sort of amphitheatre, overlooking the river, and enclosing a spacious
and rich plain, a little above the highest floods. It was indeed a
beautiful and commanding eminence--itself the margin of another plain,
stretching backwards, under the sombre and apparently boundless orchard
of oaks.
“Here,” said Mr. Williams, “on this spot and along this line, I _had_
fondly indulged the dream, would one day, not far distant, be founded
and erected a literary and scientific seminary, for the education of
Indian youth. Next to the removal and establishment of our eastern
tribes, in these delightful abodes of the North-West, and along Fox
River, and such a confirmation of our privileges, as to afford a
security for future exemption from the incursions of the white man, I
_had_ conceived and fondly cherished the project of this institution.
This wide and beautiful country _was_ to be our inheritance,--in common
with the tribes, of whom we purchased, and with whom we had entered
into firm and friendly alliances, under the guidance and auspices
of the President and Government of the United States. For the first
time in the history of our public injuries, and of the successive
ejectments of our tribes from the east to the west, in the progress of
two centuries, and of the gradual wasting away of whole nations, as
well as the constant diminution of these small remnants, which still
retain a name and existence--a fixed and permanent position was here
pledged to us, and seemed to be gained, without fear of disturbance.
Here opened to our imagination and to our hope--and I might add to our
sober judgment--a theatre for the regeneration of our race. Here, as
you see, we were naturally divided by the great waters from the States,
and from all danger of collision with the whites; at the same time,
that the American Government had promised to spread over us the wings
of its protection, to secure us from those fatal dissensions among
ourselves, which had formerly characterised our history, and to extend
unto us its parental and fostering care. It had promised all convenient
aid to secure the civilization of the wilder tribes, to amalgamate our
feelings and our interests, and make us one; and ultimately to raise us
to a dignity and importance, which might claim, either an independent
and equal place in the Federal Union, or a separate Government in
friendly alliance with the nation, which had first depressed us, but
afterwards atoned their fault by restoring our rights, and making us
better than they found us. And you see, there is no dreaming in all
this. It was natural, it was suitable, it was feasible. There was no
obstacle in the way, but the want of _faith_ in existing and solemn
covenants. Where is the nation on earth, whose remote ancestors, at
some former period, have not been even lower, than we now are? There is
nothing wanting, but peace and public faith, the means of intellectual
and moral culture, and the arts of civilization, brought perpetually to
bear on any people, however degraded, to elevate them to the highest
imaginable condition.
“Here, on this spot, I _had_ designed to found an Institution, which
might ultimately grow into importance, and become the _great centre_
of education for the Aboriginal Tribes of North America. All this land
which you see, and more, comprehending some thousands of acres, _was_
mine, ceded by the tribes, as the reward of my services, and vesting
in my wife, in consideration of claims through her father’s family.
I had expended the last penny of my earthly substance, and involved
myself in debt, by the personal sacrifices, indispensably incurred,
in accomplishing the great object of our removal and settlement in
this territory. And it was deemed fair, not only for the claims of my
wife, but for my own, that I should receive this indemnification. And
by the increasing value of these lands, as the state of society among
our tribes should advance, I _had_ hoped, not only to provide for my
family; but still to be able to make other and continued sacrifices,
for the good of the race, to which I belong;--and more especially to
push the project of this my favourite institution.
“I am a Canadian by birth, you know;--and by the same right, if I
choose to assert it, a subject of the British Empire. Although I am
sorry to say, that the British Government of the Canadas is even
behind that of the United States, in the proper, or at least, in the
_formal_ acknowledgment of Indian rights. They have never acknowledged
their original _territorial_ rights, nor their separate rights, as a
distinct community; and of course have had no controversy, in these
particulars;--as the growth and extension of population in the Canadas
have never yet brought the parties into serious collision. But in _two_
things the British are far more noble:--_First_, They never look with
contempt, nor even with disrespect, on the colour of a man’s skin,
merely because it is of a deeper shade than their own. This is almost
the _peculiar_ vice of the Americans; and I need not say, that it is
unbecoming. Nay--I am almost provoked to add, what perhaps ill becomes
_me_--that it is contemptible. And _next_,--The door is completely
open in the Canadas for the incorporation of the Indians in all the
rights and immunities of citizenship;--whereas in the States they
are proscribed by law--at least by custom, which amounts to the same
thing. In the Canadas an Indian may rise to any office, and to any
civil dignity, according to his merit and his influence. And in the
records of their parliaments may be found at least the name of _one_
Indian, admitted to their deliberations, and to the supreme rights of
legislation.
“But I was going to say that, as we are here upon the borders of
the Canadas, and as these provinces comprehend many and important
Indian tribes, within their jurisdiction, and myself being a Canadian
by birth, I had not confined my views of Indian amelioration and
cultivation to those tribes alone, that are to be found within the
circle and in the territories of the States; but I have all along had
my eye upon the Canadian tribes. I love my father’s house, and my
father’s nation; and I know the generosity of the British public--to
whom I have meditated a future appeal, in behalf of the interests of
this seminary, and of the tribes falling under the jurisdiction of
their Colonial Government, in North America. I have had reasons to be
persuaded, that they never would refuse their patronage;--that their
sympathies of benevolence would kindle into a holy fervour, under the
prospects of such a hopeful field of generous enterprise. And what,
with the patronage of the Government and people of the United States,
and what, with the favour of the people of Great Britain, I have not
doubted--on condition of the maintenance of good faith, in regard to
the pledges we had received, and which induced us to leave our homes in
New York, and come to this region--I _could_ not doubt, that my project
was rational, and that my hopes were likely to be realized.
“But--what of all those bright and cheering hopes now remains? It
is already decided, as you know, or will have occasion to know, in
the progress of the labours of this Commission from Washington, who
landed here yesterday, in company with you--that this territory is now
a candidate for admission to the rank and privileges of one of the
Federal States. Public offices of Government have already been planted
at the mouth of the river, in the settlement of Green Bay, which we
left this morning, filled by men, who are anticipating the opportunity
of wielding the destinies of this future commonwealth. Citizens from
the States are flocking in, occupying the posts of trade, speculating
in the purchase of lands, and selling whiskey to the wild Indians, who
fill this region;--and thus corrupting their morals and manners, and
fast plunging them into deeper degradation, and to final ruin. Did
you not see those naked and drunken Winnebagoes, who left the door of
my cabin a few minutes ago, brandishing their knives in a quarrel,
actually bleeding under the infliction of violence on each other,
and obliged to roll one of their number, dead drunk, into the canoe,
before they could proceed up the river? In the bottom of that canoe
you saw also a keg of whiskey, the occasion of this mischief; and it
is that cause which is destined to be the ruin of these tribes. Those
Indians came all the way from thirty miles up this river, to the white
settlement below, merely to purchase that whiskey;--for which, you may
be assured, they have paid dearly enough. For the shopkeepers here do
not trade with the Indians, but for an enormous, an exorbitant profit.
“This very land along the banks, and on either side of this river,
comprehending the Falls, a few miles above, and which make an infinite
power for machinery, down to the mouth of the river, and far around on
both sides of the head of the bay;--comprehending, in short, the key
of the territory;--and which we ourselves had purchased of the native
tribes in 1821-22--was formally purchased again of the same tribes,
in 1827, by a commission from the General Government, in contempt of
our title. We are aware, that it is pretended _not_ to be in contempt
of us--that it was not intended to disregard, or disturb _our_
contract--but only to purchase the claim, which those tribes still held
over this territory, in relation to the United States; But we cannot
understand this. As our contract was made under the supervision of the
President of the United States, and received the official sanction of
his own hand and seal;--and as the contract conveyed to us entire, and
without reserve, for ever, all the right and title of those tribes in
the premises;--we cannot comprehend, either the reason, or propriety,
that the Government should negotiate with _them_ for the land, and
not with _us_;--unless the reason be simply this:--that they knew we
_would_ not sell, and that it is resolved to impeach and disturb our
claim. And although there has been no official announcement of such
intention, yet have we long time heard, and are constantly hearing from
private and irresponsible sources, and sources which are not far from
being intimate with the public authorities--that our purchases are
invalid. Indeed, it is on this ground alone, that all the noise and
controversy have arisen. So long as our title were allowed to be good,
there could be no controversy. It is on this ground, that the native
tribes have been made dissatisfied, and alienated from us;--and on this
ground, that the present Commission has been sent up to force us to a
compromise, and reduce us to limits, which will entirely defeat all
our objects in removing to this territory. It is on this presumption,
that you see the public offices, and the active and flourishing white
settlement at the mouth of the river--none of which have a right to
be there, on the basis of the faith, which has been solemnly pledged
to us. We are invaded--we are soon to be surrounded--and there is no
hope for us. We have no longer any influence over the native tribes.
They have been turned against us; and they know not that they have been
turned against themselves. The white citizens, at the mouth of the
river, are our enemies. They are employing every possible endeavour to
throw us into the narrowest limits, and finally to root us out.
“And besides all this, there are white men here, who enjoy the credit
of hunting up and purchasing the pretended land claims of the old
French settlers, for trifling considerations; and rendering them
certain and valuable, by forcing them through the District Court of the
United States, established here, in a manner and by means, which make
us unhappy. And the very ground on which you now stand, is liable to be
invaded for my ejectment, by such a process. It was dear to me once,
but I cannot now hold it to the value of a song.
“And is there any hope, think you? The lamp of hope has long since
expired. We can never move again. We have no courage. Our tribes have
no courage. For where is the faith, on which we can rely?
“You shall see the state of things in the developements of the sittings
of this Commission.”