MICHILIMACKINAC
Michilimackinac! that gem of the Lakes! How bright and beautiful it
looked as we walked abroad on the following morning! The rain had
passed away, but had left all things glittering in the light of the
sun as it rose up over the waters of Lake Huron, far away to the east.
Before us was the lovely bay, scarcely yet tranquil after the storm,
but dotted with canoes and the boats of the fishermen already getting
out their nets for the trout and white-fish, those treasures of the
deep. Along the beach were scattered the wigwams or lodges of the
Ottawas who had come to the island to trade. The inmates came forth to
gaze upon us. A shout of welcome was sent forth, as they recognized
_Shaw-nee-aw-kee_, who, from a seven years' residence among them, was
well known to each individual.
A shake of the hand, and an emphatic "_Bon-Jour--bon-jour_," is the
customary salutation between the Indian and the white man.
"Do the Indians speak French?" I inquired of my husband. "No; this is
a fashion they have learned of the French traders during many years of
intercourse."
Not less hearty was the greeting of each Canadian _engagé_, as he
trotted forward to pay his respects to "Monsieur John," and to utter
a long string of felicitations, in a most incomprehensible _patois_.
I was forced to take for granted all the good wishes showered upon
"Madame John," of which I could comprehend nothing but the hope that I
should be happy and contented in my "_vie sauvage_."
The object of our early walk was to visit the Mission-house and school
which had been some few years previously established at this place,
by the Presbyterian Board of Missions. It was an object of especial
interest to Mr. and Mrs. Stuart, and its flourishing condition at this
period, and the prospects of extensive future usefulness it held out,
might well gladden their philanthropic hearts. They had lived many
years on the island, and had witnessed its transformation, through
God's blessing on Christian efforts, from a worldly, dissipated
community to one of which it might almost be said, "Religion was every
man's business." This mission establishment was the beloved child and
the common centre of interest of the few Protestant families clustered
around it. Through the zeal and good management of Mr. and Mrs. Ferry,
and the fostering encouragement of the congregation, the school was in
great repute, and it was pleasant to observe the effect of mental and
religious culture in subduing the mischievous, tricky propensities of
the half-breed, and rousing the stolid apathy of the genuine Indian.[4]
These were the palmy days of Mackinac. As the headquarters of the
American Fur Company,[5] and the entrepôt of the whole North-West,
all the trade in supplies and goods on the one hand, and in furs and
products of the Indian country on the other, was in the hands of the
parent establishment or its numerous outposts scattered along Lakes
Superior and Michigan, the Mississippi, or through still more distant
regions.
[Illustration: MICHILIMACKINAC
From a sketch by Capt. S. Eastman, U. S. A., in Schoolcraft's "Indian
Tribes," vol. iv., p. 188.]
Probably few are ignorant of the fact, that all the Indian tribes, with
the exception of the Miamis and the Wyandots, had, since the transfer
of the old French possessions to the British Crown, maintained a firm
alliance with the latter. The independence achieved by the United
States did not alter the policy of the natives, nor did our Government
succeed in winning or purchasing their friendship. Great Britain, it
is true, bid high to retain them. Every year the leading men of the
Chippewas, Ottawas, Pottowattamies, Menomonees, Winnebagoes, Sauks,
and Foxes, and even still more remote tribes, journeyed from their
distant homes to Fort Maiden in Upper Canada, to receive their annual
amount of presents from their Great Father across the water. It was
a master-policy thus to keep them in pay, and had enabled those who
practised it to do fearful execution through the aid of such allies in
the last war between the two countries.
The presents they thus received were of considerable value, consisting
of blankets, broadcloths or _strouding_, calicoes, guns, kettles,
traps, silver-works (comprising arm-bands, bracelets, brooches,
and ear-bobs), looking-glasses, combs, and various other trinkets
distributed with no niggardly hand.
The magazines and store-houses of the Fur Company were the resort
of all the upper tribes for the sale of their commodities, and the
purchase of all such articles as they had need of, including those
above enumerated, and also ammunition, which, as well as money and
liquor, their British friends very commendably omitted to furnish them.
Besides their furs, various in kind and often of great value--beaver,
otter, marten, mink, silver-gray and red fox, wolf, bear, and wild
cat, musk-rat, and smoked deer-skins--the Indians brought for trade
maple-sugar in abundance, considerable quantities of both Indian corn
and _petit-blé_,[B] beans and the _folles avoines_,[C] or wild-rice,
while the squaws added to their quota of merchandize a contribution
in the form of moccasins, hunting-pouches, mococks, or little boxes
of birch-bark embroidered with porcupine quills and filled with
maple-sugar, mats of a neat and durable fabric, and toy-models of
Indian cradles, snow shoes, canoes, &c., &c.
[Footnote B: Corn which has been parboiled, shelled from the cob, and
dried in the sun.]
[Footnote C: Literally, _crazy oats_. It is the French name for the
Menomonees.]
It was no unusual thing, at this period, to see a hundred or more
canoes of Indians at once approaching the island, laden with their
articles of traffic; and if to these we add the squadrons of large
Mackinac boats[6] constantly arriving from the outposts, with the furs,
peltries, and buffalo-robes collected by the distant traders, some idea
may be formed of the extensive operations and important position of the
American Fur Company, as well as of the vast circle of human beings
either immediately or remotely connected with it.
It is no wonder that the philanthropic mind, surveying these races
of uncultivated heathen, should stretch forward to the time when, by
an unwearied devotion of the white man's energies, and an untiring
sacrifice of self and fortune, his red brethren might rise in the scale
of social civilization--when Education and Christianity should go hand
in hand, to make "the wilderness blossom as the rose."
Little did the noble souls at this day rejoicing in the success of
their labors at Mackinac, anticipate that in less than a quarter
of a century there would remain of all these numerous tribes but
a few scattered bands, squalid, degraded, with scarce a vestige
remaining of their former lofty character--their lands cajoled or
wrested from them--the graves of their fathers turned up by the
ploughshare--themselves chased farther and farther towards the setting
sun, until they were literally grudged a resting place on the face of
the earth!
Our visit to the Mission school was of short duration, for the "Henry
Clay" was to leave at two o'clock, and in the meantime we were to see
what we could of the village and its environs, and after that, dine
with Mr. Mitchell, an old friend of my husband. As we walked leisurely
along over the white gravelly road, many of the residences of the old
inhabitants were pointed out to me. There was the dwelling of Madame
Laframboise,[7] an Ottawa woman, whose husband had taught her to read
and write, and who had ever after continued to use the knowledge she
had acquired for the instruction and improvement of the youth among
her own people. It was her custom to receive a class of young pupils
daily at her house, that she might give them lessons in the branches
mentioned, and also in the principles of the Roman Catholic religion,
to which she was deeply devoted. She was a woman of a vast deal of
energy and enterprise--of a tall and commanding figure, and most
dignified deportment. After the death of her husband, who was killed
while away at his trading-post by a Winnebago named _White Ox_, she was
accustomed to visit herself the trading-posts, superintend the clerks
and engagés, and satisfy herself that the business was carried on in a
regular and profitable manner.
The Agency-house, with its unusual luxuries of piazza and gardens, was
situated at the foot of the hill on which the fort was built. It was a
lovely spot, notwithstanding the stunted and dwarfish appearance of all
cultivated vegetation in this cold northern latitude.
The collection of rickety, primitive-looking buildings, occupied
by the officials of the Fur Company, reflected no great credit on
the architectural skill of my husband, who had superintended their
construction, he told me, when little more than a boy.
There were, besides these, the residences of the Dousmans, the Abbotts,
the Biddies, the Drews, and the Lashleys,[8] stretching away along the
base of the beautiful hill, crowned with the white walls and buildings
of the fort, the ascent to which was so steep, that on the precipitous
face nearest the beach staircases were built by which to mount from
below.
My head ached intensely, the effect of the motion of the boat on the
previous day, but I did not like to give up to it; so after I had been
shown all that could be seen of the little settlement in the short time
allowed us, we repaired to Mr. Mitchell's.
We were received by Mrs. M., an extremely pretty, delicate woman, part
French and part Sioux, whose early life had been passed at Prairie du
Chien, on the Mississippi.[9] She had been a great belle among the
young officers at Fort Crawford; so much so, indeed, that the suicide
of the post-surgeon was attributed to an unsuccessful attachment he
had conceived for her. I was greatly struck with her soft and gentle
manners, and the musical intonation of her voice, which I soon learned
was a distinguishing peculiarity of those women in whom are united the
French and native blood.
A lady, then upon a visit to the Mission, was of the company. She
insisted on my lying down upon the sofa, and ministered most kindly to
my suffering head. As she sat by my side, and expatiated upon the new
sphere opening before me, she inquired:
"Do you not realize very strongly the entire deprivation of religious
privileges you will be obliged to suffer in your distant home?"
"The deprivation," said I, "will doubtless be great, but not _entire_;
for I shall have my Prayer-Book, and though destitute of a church, we
need not be without a _mode_ of worship."
How often afterwards, when cheered by the consolations of this precious
book in the midst of the lonely wilderness, did I remember this
conversation, and bless God that I could never, while retaining it, be
without "religious privileges."
We had not yet left the dinner-table, when the bell of the little
steamer sounded to summon us on board, and we bade a hurried farewell
to all our kind friends, bearing with us their hearty wishes for a safe
and prosperous voyage.
A finer sight can scarcely be imagined than Mackinac, from the water.
As we steamed away from the shore, the view came full upon us--the
sloping beach with the scattered wigwams, and canoes drawn up here
and there--the irregular, quaint-looking houses--the white walls of
the fort, and beyond one eminence still more lofty, crowned with the
remains of old Fort Holmes.[10] The whole picture completed, showed the
perfect outline that had given the island its original Indian name,
_Mich-i-li-mack-i-nack_, the Big Turtle.
Then those pure, living waters, in whose depths the fish might be seen
gliding and darting to and fro, whose clearness is such that an object
dropped to the bottom may be discerned at the depth of fifty or sixty
feet, a dollar lying far down on its green bed, looking no larger
than a half dime. I could hardly wonder at the enthusiastic lady who
exclaimed: "Oh! I could wish to be drowned in these pure, beautiful
waters!"
As we passed the extreme western point of the island, my husband
pointed out to me, far away to the north-west, a promontory which he
told me was Point St. Ignace. It possessed great historic interest, as
one of the earliest white settlements on this continent. The Jesuit
missionaries had established here a church and school as early as 1607,
the same year in which a white settlement was made at St. Augustine, in
Florida, and one year before the founding of Jamestown, Virginia.[11]
All that remains of the enterprises of these devoted men, is the
remembrance of their labors, perpetuated, in most instances, only
by the names of the spots which witnessed their efforts of love
in behalf of their savage brethren. The little French church at
Sandwich, opposite Detroit, alone is left, a witness of the zeal and
self-sacrifice of these pioneers of Christianity.[12]
Passing "Old Mackinac," on the main land, which forms the southern
border of the straits, we soon came out into the broad waters of Lake
Michigan. Every traveller, and every reader of our history, is familiar
with the incidents connected with the taking of the old fort by the
Indians, in the days of Pontiac. How, by means of a game of ball,
played in an apparently friendly spirit outside the walls, and of which
the officers and soldiers had come forth to be spectators, the ball was
dexterously tossed over the wall, and the savages rushing in, under
pretext of finding it, soon got possession and massacred the garrison.
The little Indian village of L'Arbre Croche[13] gleamed far away south,
in the light of the setting sun. With that exception, there was no sign
of living habitation along that vast and wooded shore. The gigantic
forest-trees, and here and there the little glades of prairie opening
to the water, showed a landscape that would have gladdened the eye of
the agriculturist, with its promise of fertility; but it was evidently
untrodden by the foot of man, and we left it, in its solitude, as we
took our course westward across the waters.
The rainy and gusty weather, so incident to the equinoctial season,
overtook us again before we reached the mouth of Green Bay, and kept
us company until the night of our arrival upon the flats, about three
miles below the settlement. Here the little steamer grounded "fast and
hard." As almost every one preferred braving the elements to remaining
cooped up in the quarters we had occupied for the past week, we decided
to trust ourselves to the little boat, spite of wind, and rain, and
darkness, and in due time we reached the shore.