colours.—[C. T.?]
[103] Important matters should be accompanied with large strings, or
belts; but sometimes a sufficient quantity of wampum is not at hand.—[C.
T.?]
[104] The word, _wishicksey_, translated, _be strong_, is of a very
extensive signification be strong, be steady, pursue to effect what you
have begun, &c.—[C. T.?]
[105] _i. e._ They will observe how we are dressed.—[C. T.?]
[106] Thomas King was an Oneida Indian, who had taken a prominent part in
the treaty at Easton (October, 1758).—ED.
[107] It is probable that Croghan brought Post the news of the change of
name from Fort Duquesne to Pittsburg. He apparently uses the new term
with much relish. The day after the English occupation of Fort Duquesne,
General Forbes wrote to Governor Denny, dating his letter “Fort Duquesne,
or now Pittsburg.”—_Pennsylvania Colonial Records_, viii, p. 232.—ED.
[108] As it often happens to the _Indians_, on their long marches, in
war, and sometimes in their hunting expeditions, to be without victuals
for several days, occasioned by bad weather and other accidents, they
have the custom in such cases; which _Post_ probably learned of them,
viz. girding their bellies tight, when they have nothing to put in them;
and they say it prevents the pain of hunger.—[C. T.?]
[109] Colonel Henry Bouquet, a Swiss officer, who had served with
distinction in the armies of Sardinia and Holland, was engaged to enter
the regiment of Royal Americans, and came to America in 1756. The
following year he was in command in South Carolina; but early in 1758 was
summoned north to aid Forbes in his march through Pennsylvania. Bouquet
commanded the advance, and prepared the road, ordered the stations
for reserve supplies, and by careful management contributed much to
the success of the campaign. Upon Forbes’s retiring, Bouquet was left
in command at Fort Pitt, where he remained fulfilling the arduous and
exacting duties of his frontier service until late in 1762, when he was
relieved by Captain Ecuyer, and returned to Philadelphia. On the news of
the siege of Fort Pitt (1763), Bouquet organized a relief expedition,
which inflicted a severe defeat upon the Indians at Bushy Run. The
following year, the Indian country was invaded, Bouquet’s expedition
to the Muskingum proving a complete success. Relieved from his Western
command, he was promoted to the rank of brigadier-general and placed in
command of all the troops in the southern British colonies of America.
He died at Pensacola, February, 1766, at the early age of forty-seven.
He was not only a soldier of ability and vigor, but a man of most
attractive and charming character, beloved by superiors and subordinates.
The collection of his letters in the British Museum is a chief source
for the history of the West during this period. See calendar in
_Canadian Archives_, 1889; extracts in _Michigan Pioneer and Historical
Collections_, xix, pp. 27-295; also _Bouquet’s Expedition against the
Ohio Indians_ (Cincinnati, 1868).—ED.
[110] Major Halket was the son of Sir Peter Halket, who was killed,
together with another son, at the battle of Monongahela (1755). When
Major Halket accompanied the detachment sent by Forbes to bury the bones
of the victims of that disaster, he recognized the skeletons of his
father and brother and at the sight fainted with grief and horror.—ED.
[111] James Glen had been governor of South Carolina (1744-55), but was
superseded in the latter year by Governor Lyttleton. His presence at
Forbes’s camp is perhaps explained by the fact that he was interested in
the Cherokee Indian trade.—ED.
[112] Captain Nicholas Wedderholz (Weatherholt) was a militia officer
in command of a German company from Northumberland County, which was
enlisted December 16, 1755, and “discontinued” in 1760. It is said
that every man in his company was of German descent. During the Indian
troubles of 1763, Weatherholt raised another company, which did not,
however, see active service.—ED.
[113] Israel Pemberton was a member of a prominent Quaker family, and
a merchant of Philadelphia. Very active in political affairs, and
influential with the Indians because of his Quaker principles and
trade-relations, he was one of the leading members of the “Friendly
Association,” formed to put down war with the Indians. In 1759 he sent
for the association £1,000 worth of goods to be distributed to the Ohio
Indians at Pittsburg. Pemberton, with other leading Quakers, was much
disliked by the borderers, who called him “King Wampum,” and placed his
life in jeopardy during the Paxton riots (1763). Neither did Pemberton
find favor with the “Sons of Liberty,” and the patriot party of the
Revolution. In 1777 he, with two brothers, was banished to Virginia on
the charge of aiding the British enemy.—ED.
IV
JOURNAL OF CAPTAIN THOMAS MORRIS, OF HIS MAJESTY’S XVII REGIMENT OF
INFANTRY; DETROIT, SEPTEMBER 25, 1764
Reprint from the author’s _Miscellanies in Prose and Verse_ (London,
1791), pp. 1-39
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
The journal of Captain Thomas Morris is notable from two points of
view. First, because of its rarity—the volume in which it is found,
_Miscellanies in Prose and Verse_ (London, printed for James Ridgway,
1791), being a treasure much prized by the collector of valuable
Americana. In the second place, the journal is of importance to
historical students because of the light it throws upon conditions in
the West at this critical moment (1766), and the proof it furnishes
that Pontiac’s influence was still paramount among the Western Indians,
that Bradstreet had been completely duped, and that native hostility to
British sovereignty over the Western tribes was deep-seated, and would
take many years wholly to uproot.
Incidentally, also, the journal possesses considerable dramatic
interest. Dealing with a single episode, told in the first person by the
chief participant, and he a person of literary tastes, the thrilling
incidents—repeated escapes from torture and death, the flight through
the woods, and the final refuge at Detroit—all depicted graphically, yet
simply, hold one’s attention unflagging to the end. The side touches
are in keeping with the principal incidents: the contrast between the
author’s situation and his calm enjoyment of Shakespeare’s tragedy, so
curiously preserved for him from the loot of some English officer’s
baggage; the appearance of the white charger that had borne its master
Braddock to sudden death in the Monongahela Valley nine years before;
the gratitude and fidelity of the Canadian Godefroy, evinced to so good
a purpose; the pomp and pride of the red-coated brave who wore on his
back his reward for services to Sir William Johnson; the honor of Pontiac
and the Miami chief, who protected with difficulty the sacred person of
an ambassador; the roguery of the Loretto Indian, who deserted his chief
and so speedily suffered therefor—all these circumstances heighten and
prolong the reader’s interest, and add vividness to the narrative.
Our knowledge of the author’s life is but slight. He came of a race of
soldiers, his father and grandfather before him having served as captains
of the same regiment in which he was an officer. His early education was
considerable; and fifteen months had been spent in Paris familiarizing
himself with the language and literature of its people. His tastes were
always those of a scholar and a lover of literature; he being of that
class of British soldiers of which Wolfe was so conspicuous an example,
whose recreations took the line of literary appreciation and performance.
Morris came to America in 1758, as a lieutenant in the 17th regiment
of infantry, in which he had been commissioned three years previous.
Although this was Forbes’s command, Morris saw service at Louisburg in
1758, and was with Amherst in the campaign around Lake Champlain in the
following year. In 1761, he was promoted to a captaincy and assigned to
the garrison of Fort Hendrick, at Canajoharie in the Mohawk Valley—the
home of the famous Mohawk chiefs, Hendricks and Brant. It was doubtless
there that he acquired that knowledge of the Mohawk temperament which he
exhibits in the opening pages of his journal. While stationed at this
lonely outpost he addressed his friend “Dicky” Montgomery in a parody
of one of Horace’s odes, which possesses more historical interest than
literary merit.[1] It is evident from his dedication of certain odes to
“ceux des Français, qui ont connu l’auteur au siége de la Martinique,”
that Morris accompanied General Monckton upon that expedition in 1762.
After his adventures along the Maumee, related in the present journal,
he remained at Detroit for some time, and returned to England with his
regiment in 1767. At this time occurred his meeting with the soldier whom
he had previously encountered as an Indian prisoner, under circumstances
of great danger and distress, near the treacherously-destroyed Fort Miami.
What we know of Morris’s later life is comprised in his “Preamble” to the
volume containing this journal. Having retired from the army in 1775, he
lost his property by means of speculative ventures. For the sake of his
children, he appealed to the king for a pension, on the ground of past
services, especially those detailed in the Maumee journal. A copy of the
journal was annexed to the petition, but the latter failed of effect.
The narrative here reprinted was laid aside until encouragement from a
“respectable gentleman of my acquaintance, a man of letters in whose
judgment I place implicit faith” determined him to print some of his
literary efforts and to include the journal to “complete the volume.” He
expresses the hope that the recital of his adventures “might possibly,
some time or other, procure a friend or protector to one of my children.”
“This is a plain and simple tale,” he concludes, “accounting for my
presumption in offering to the public an old story relating to one whose
wish used to be, to lie concealed in domestic life; a wish, in which
he has been amply gratified by the very obliging silence of some of his
nearest connexions.”
It is evident, therefore, that the journal, unlike most of the others we
publish in this volume, was dressed up for publication, and purposely
given a dramatic turn. The official report of the expedition, as sent to
Bradstreet, together with letters from Morris to his superior, are in the
British Public Record Office, still unpublished.[2]
The small volume of _Miscellanies_, from which we extract the journal,
contains in addition thereto an essay on dramatic art, translations
of two of Juvenal’s satires, and five odes which are accompanied by
transliterations into French prose. Morris had already published two
collections of songs—in 1786, and in 1790. In 1792, appeared his _Life of
Reverend David Williams_; and four years later a versified tale, _Quashy,
or the Coal Black Maid_, which has been described as “a negroe love story
which bears reference to the slave-trade, and is here but indifferently
told.”[3] With the publication in 1802, of _Songs, Political and
Convivial_, Captain Thomas Morris passes from public view.
The character of the man throws the incidents of this hazardous journey
into still stronger relief. Here is no frontiersman like Weiser and
Croghan, familiar with the hardships of the wilderness; no missionary,
like Post, seeking rewards not measured by earthly laurels and success;
not even a bluff, practical soldier like Bradstreet, who dispatched
him on his venturesome mission. Morris was a man of the great world, a
fashionable dilettante, dabbling in literature and the dramatic art.
Parkman comments on his round English face—as shown in the portrait which
appears on the frontispiece to his _Miscellanies_, and which we republish
as frontispiece to the present volume—and the lack of resolution and
courage therein expressed. Yet upon his memorable embassy he displayed no
want of either. Probably it was his familiarity with the French language
that led to his being chosen for the task; he entered upon it with
commendable zeal, and attempted to carry out his orders at every risk.
Doubtless the adventure appealed to that latent fondness for experiences,
that men of the literary temperament frequently possess. In his essay
on dramatic art he says, “If the world ever afforded me a pleasure
equal to that of reading Shakespear at the foot of a water-fall in an
American desert, it was Du Menil’s performance of tragedy.” Morris
evinced a steadiness of courage, endurance, and hardihood, fortitude
under disaster, and an unflinching determination to do his duty, as well
as a power of attaching men to his service, that would do credit to
any man. For a victim of Indian cruelties, his magnanimity was a still
rarer quality. He bore no grudge against his savage tormentors, speaking
of them as “an innocent, much-abused, and once happy people.” His
appreciation of the qualities of the French Canadians, and his remarks
upon their conduct of Indian affairs show keen observation, astuteness,
and a judgment free from prejudice. As an author, wit, man of affairs,
courageous soldier, magnanimous foe, we may apply to him in earnest the
epithet levied in jest by the reviewer of his first volume of songs—the
“inimitable Captain Morris.”
R. G. T.
JOURNAL OF CAPTAIN THOMAS MORRIS OF HIS MAJESTY’S XVII REGIMENT OF
INFANTRY
General Bradstreet, who commanded an army sent against those Indian
nations who had cut off several English garrisons, of which we had taken
possession after the surrender of Canada, having too hastily determined
to send an officer to take possession also of the Illinois country in
his Britannic Majesty’s name, sent his Aid de Camp to sound me on the
occasion. His Aid de Camp desired me to recommend some officer with
qualities he described. I named every one that I could recollect; but
he always answered me shortly: “No, no; he won’t do.” I then began to
suspect that he might have a design on myself. Accordingly I said: “If I
thought my services would be acceptable”—He interrupted me: “That is what
is wanted.” I replied: “Why did you not say so at first?” He said, with
an oath: “It is not a thing to be asked of any man.” I answered: “If the
General thinks me the properest person, I am ready.” I was immediately
conducted to the General; and while I was at dinner with him, he said,
in his frank manner: “Morris, I have a French fellow here, my prisoner,
who expects to be hanged for treason; he speaks all the Indian languages,
and if you think he can be of use to you, I’ll send for him, pardon him,
and send him with you.” I answered: “I am glad you have thought of it,
Sir; I wish you would.” The prisoner, whose name was Godefroi,[4] was
accordingly sent for; and, as soon as he entered the tent, he turned
pale, and fell on his knees, begging for mercy. The General telling
him that it was in his power to hang him, concluded with saying: “I
give thee thy life; take care of this gentleman.” The man expressed a
grateful sense of the mercy shewn him, and protested that he would be
faithful: and indeed his behaviour afterwards proved that he was sincere
in his promise. As General Bradstreet had pardoned him on my account, he
considered me as his deliverer. Little minds hate obligations; and thence
the transition is easy to the hatred of their benefactor: this man’s soul
was of another make, and, though in a low station, a noble pride urged
him to throw a heavier weight of obligation on him to whom he thought he
was indebted for his liberty, if not his life; and I had the singular
satisfaction of owing those blessings to one who fancied he owed the same
to me.
While I was preparing to set out, the boats being almost loaden with
our provisions and necessaries, the Aid de Camp told me, that if the
Indian deputies, who were expected to arrive at the camp that evening,
did not come, the Uttawaw [Ottawa] village,[5] where I was to lie that
night, would be attacked at three o’clock in the morning; “but that,”
added he, “will make no difference in your affairs.” I was astonished
that the General could think so: but I made no reply to him, and we
talked of other matters. However, as I was stepping into my boat, some
canoes appeared, and I came on shore again, and found they were the
Indian deputies who were expected. This I thought a very happy incident
for me; and having received proper powers and instructions I set out in
good spirits from Cedar Point,[6] in Lake Erie, on the 26th of August,
1764, about four o’clock in the afternoon, at the same time that the
army proceeded for Detroit. My escort consisted of Godefroi, and another
Canadian, two servants, twelve Indians, our allies, and five Mohawks,
with a boat in which were our provisions, who were to attend us to the
swifts of the Miamis river, about ten leagues distant, and then return to
the army. I had with me likewise Warsong, the great Chippawaw chief, and
Attawang, an Uttawaw chief, with some other Indians of their nations, who
had come the same day to our camp with proposals of peace. We lay that
night at the mouth of the Miamis river.