More Personal History--Suffering and Trials in Early Life--Missing the
Opportunity to Go to School--Learning Trade as a Blacksmith--A New
Start to Seek for Education--Arriving at Cleveland, O., to Find His Old
Friend, Rev. Alvin Coe--Visit with Rev. Samuel Bissell, of Twinsburg,
O., Principal of the Twinsburg Institute--Attending School--Returning
Home--Advocating Citizenship for His People--Delegated to Detroit and
to the State Legislature--His Pleasant Visit with State Authorities--
Again Delegated as Councilor to the New Treaty, 1855.
The first winter we lived at Little Traverse as a permanent home was in
the year 1828, and in the following spring my own dear mother died very
suddenly, as she was burned while they were making sugar in the woods.
She was burned so badly that she only lived four days after. I was
small, but I was old enough to know and mourn for my dear mother. I
felt as though I had lost everything dear to me and every friend; there
was no one that I could place such confidence in, not even my own
father. So my father's household was broken up: we were pretty well
scattered after that. He could not very well keep us together; being
the least one in the family, I became a perfect wild rover. At last I
left Little Traverse when about 13 or 14 years age. I went to Green
Bay, Wis., with the expectation of living with an older sister who had
married a Scotchman named Gibson and had gone there to make a home
somewhere in Green Bay. I found them, but I did not stay with them
long. I left them and went to live with a farmer close by whose name
was Sylvester. From this place I was persuaded by another man to go
with him on the fishing ground, to a place called Sturgeon Bay, Wis.
From there I sailed with Mr. Robert Campbell. Mr. Campbell was a good
man and Christian. His father had a nice farm at Bay Settlement, near
Green Bay, Wis., where also my sister settled down. I sailed with him
one summer. We came to Mackinac Island in the fall of 1840, and there I
met my father and all my relations, and great many Indians as they were
about receiving their annual payment from the Government. So I left the
vessel and hired out in the store to act as clerk during the payment
time.
After all the Indians had gone away from the island, I was still
working in the store and thought to make my winter quarters there, but
did not. One day I met my father's old friend, the Rev. Mr. Alvin Coe,
the traveling missionary of whom I have already spoken as having asked
me to go with him to the State of Ohio where I might have an
opportunity to go to school and be educated like the white man. I told
him I will go with him, provided he will take an interest to watch over
me, that no one would abuse me out there after getting into the strange
country. He faithfully promised that he would do all this, and would
also do all he could to help me along to obtain my education. He said
he was going that night and I must be on hand when the boat arrived;
but I failed to tell him my stopping place. So when the boat arrived I
was too sound asleep to hear it. Poor old man! I was told that he felt
disappointed to have to go with, out me. As I woke in the morning I
inquired if any boat had arrived during the night. I was told there
was. I was also told there was an old man who seemed to be very
anxious, and was looking for me all over the crowd on the dock, but he
could not find me there. When the boat was pushing out he jumped on
board and then turned to the crowd, saying, "Tell my little boy,
Jackson, son of the old chief Macka-de-be-nessy, of Arbor Croche, that
I have gone on this boat."
Thus I was left, and missed the opportunity when I might have been
educated while I was yet much younger. A few days afterwards, as I
walked out from the store one evening, I met two young men in the
street, one of whom I frequently saw during the payment time, but the
other was entirely a stranger to me. He was a most noble-looking and
tall young man, but, behold, he spoke perfectly and freely the Indian
language, saying to me, "My boy, would you be willing to take us to
that vessel out there?" at the same time pointing to a vessel which was
already outside of the harbor, sails up, but in a perfectly dead calm,
as there was not a breath of wind. I told them I would, provided I
could get the boat to get there; in which he replied that they will do
all that part of the business, but they wanted some one to bring the
boat back. As I was walking with another mate of mine, I ask him to go
with me to take these folks on board. The next thing we were on the way
towards the vessel. As we went along this noble young man said to me,
"My boy, would you like to come with us to Grand Traverse?" I replied,
"I would like to see Grand Traverse, but am not prepared to go just
now." "Would you not like to learn the blacksmith trade? This man is a
government blacksmith in Grand Traverse," referring to his companion,
"and he needs an assistant in the business. We will give you position
as an assistant and a salary of $240 yearly, or $20 per month." I
replied, "I will go, for I would be very glad to find a chance to learn
a trade and at the same time to get my living." Therefore I also got on
board, and my friend had to come back alone with the boat we borrowed.
This was the same vessel that I had sailed on that season. We arrived
at the place now called "The Old Mission," where there was a nice
harbor. [Footnote: The Mission was already established by this time,
1840, conducted by the Presbyterian Board of missions. Rev. P.
Dougherty, who was indeed a true Christian, and good to Indians, was a
preacher for the Mission. Daniel Rod, the half-breed from St. Clair
River, Mich., was his interpreter. Mr. Bradley acted as teacher, who
afterwards proved himself unworthy for the position, which produced a
bad effect among the Indians. The Mission is now out of existence.]
This young man, whose name I now learned was John M. Johnstone, of
Sault Ste. Marie, the brother-in-law of Henry Schoolcraft, our Indian
agent, said when we arrived, "You have no commission yet to work in the
shop; you will therefore have to go back to Mackinac with this letter
which you will take to Indian agent yourself and nobody else. Then come
back at the first opportunity if he tells you to come."
So I had to return to Mackinac on the same vessel with which we went
away. At Mackinac I received my commission without any trouble. On
arriving at Grand Traverse the Indians were having a big council which
was concocted, I was told, by the brother of my benefactor, who was
trading there among the Indians. They were getting up remonstrances and
petitioning the Government against my appointment, setting forth as
reason of their complaint that I did not belong to that tribe of
Indians, and was therefore not entitled to the position, and they would
rather have one of their own boys belonging to the tribe put to this
trade. But my friend Johnstone told me "not to mind anything, but go
about my business. The blacksmith shop had been established here for
more than two years, and they should have thought of putting their boy
in the shop long before this." So accordingly I continued working and
minding my own business for five years, when I quit of my own accord.
There were no white people there at that time, only such as were
employed by the Government, and the missionaries and teachers, and the
Indians were very happy in those days.
I have told my readers in the previous chapters of this little book,
that from the time I was invited by our most estimable friend, Rev.
Alvin Coe, to go with him to the State of Ohio in order to receive an
education, "that it was never blotted out of my mind," and therefore
the very day I quit the blacksmith shop at Grand Traverse, I turned my
face toward the State of Ohio, for that object alone. I came to Little
Traverse to bid a good-by to my father and relations late in October,
1845. I did not even stay half a day at Little Traverse. I started for
Arbor Croche the same day I bid the last farewell to my folks, in order
to obtain an opportunity there to get to Mackinac Island, from which I
intended to take my passage for Cleveland. Arriving at Arbor Croche,
which is fourteen miles from Little Traverse, I met an orphan boy, Paul
Naw-o-ga-de by name, a distant relative, and proposed to pay his
passage to Cleveland. The brother of this little boy had a boat of his
own, and offered to take us to Mackinac Island, and I was vary glad of
the opportunity. So the next day we started for Mackinac, not knowing
what would become of us if my little means were exhausted and we should
be unsuccessful in finding our old friend, Mr. Alvin Coe.
The day we arrived at Mackinac we took passage for Cleveland. Arriving
there we were scared at seeing so many people coming to us who wanted
us to get into their cabs to take us to some hotel which might cost us
two or three dollars a day. We went to Farmer's Hotel. In the evening
the landlady was somewhat curious to know where we hailed from and
where we were going to. I told her we came from Michigan, but we did
not know yet where we should go to. I asked her if she ever knew or
heard of a minister named Alvin Coe. "What,"--she seemed to be very
much surprised--"Mr. Alvin Coe the traveling missionary?" I said, "Yes,
the same." "Why, that is my own uncle. What is it about him?" "O,
nothing; only I would like to know where he lives, and how far." I was
equally surprised to think that we happened to meet one of his
relatives, and thought at this moment, God must be with us in our
undertaking. "You know my uncle, then," she said. I said, "Yes; he is
my particular friend, and I am going to look for him." Of course, she
told us the name of the town in which he lived, and how far and which
road to take to get there. It also happened that there was one
gentleman at Farmer's Hotel, who had been out west and came on the same
boat on which we came, and he was going the next day in that direction
on foot, and said he would guide us as far as he would go, which would
be about twenty miles, and there was thirty miles to go after that. So
the next day we started. Arriving late in the afternoon at the
outskirts of the little village called Twinsburg, our white companion
told us this is the place where he intended to stop for a while, and
said, "You better stop with me for the night, and after supper you
could visit the institution in the village and see the principal of the
school here; you might possibly get a chance to attend that school, as
you say that was your object in coming to this part of the country." I
was very much surprised, as he had not said one word about it as we
came along on the road. After supper, I went as he directed. As I
approached the seminary I saw a good many boys playing on the square of
the village, and I went and stood close by. Very soon one of the young
men came up to me, saying, "Are you going to attend our school here?" I
told him, "No, sir; I am going thirty miles further to attend some
school there." "This is the best school that I know of anywhere about
this country," he said. I asked him if he would introduce me to the
proprietor of the school. "Most cheerfully," said he; "will you please
to tell me what place you came from, and your name." "I came from
Michigan, and my name is Blackbird." "All right, I will go with you."
So we came to the professor's room, and he introduced me. "Well, Mr.
Blackbird, do you wish to attend our school?" I said, "I do not know,
sir, how that might be, as I have not much means to pay my way, but I
am seeking for a man who invited me to come to come to Ohio some five
years ago, and promised that he would help me all he could for my
education. His name is Alvin Coe, a traveling missionary, my father's
old friend." "We have two Indian boys here attending school, and I
think you will not be very lonesome if you should conclude to stay with
us." "What are their names?" I asked. "One is Francis Petoskey, and the
other is Paul Ka-gwe-tosong." I said, "I know them both; I came from
the same place they did, but I did not know they were here, I only knew
they were attending school somewhere among the whites." "Can you do any
kind of work?" "I am a blacksmith by trade, sir, and besides I can do
most every other kind of work." He said, "If you conclude to stay, I
will try to aid you in finding a place where you could work to pay for
your lodging and board; and in the meantime we will cause Mr. Alvin Coe
to come and see you, and if he sees fit to take you away he can do so,
provided you would be willing to go with him." I told him I would stay,
if I found a place to work to pay for my board, and provided that I
could make some arrangement for the little companion who came with me.
After considering a few moments, he proposed to take my little
companion to his boarding house until a better arrangment could be
made. This was the end of my conversation with this noble hearted
professor and proprietor of this Institution, whose name was Rev.
Samuel Bissell, of Twinsburg, Ohio.
In the morning, after breakfast, I went back to the village and found
arrangments were already made for both of us, and all we had to do was
just to shift our quarters. I came to live with a young blacksmith in
the village and work two hours in the morning and two hours in the
evening, and many times I finished my hours at sunrise. Some time
during the winter, my friend Mr. Alvin Coe came and took me off, with
the understanding, however, that if I did not like the school where he
was, I was to come back to Twinsburg. So in about two weeks I came back
to the old institution, as I did not like the place. At last Dr.
Brainsmade, of Newark, New Jersey, took a deep interest in my welfare
and education, and he proposed to aid me and take me through the
medical college. Therefore I quit working my hours in the shop and
boarded at the institution, attending solely to my studies for over
four years.
I have already told my readers in previous chapters how bad I felt when
I had to return to Michigan. After I came home I did everything towards
the welfare and happiness of my people, beside attending to my aged
father, as I found my people to be very different then from what they
were, as they were beginning to have a free use of intoxicating
liquors. I immediately caused the pledge to be signed in every village
of the Indians, in which I was quite successful, as almost everyone
pledged themselves never again to touch intoxicating drinks. I also
advocated the right of citizenship for my people in the State of
Michigan, although we were repeatedly told by our white neighbors that
we could not very well be adopted as citizens of the State as long as
we were receiving annuities from the general government on account of
our former treaties. My object of promulgating this cause was, I
thought it would be the only salvation of my people from being sent off
to the west of the Mississippi, where perhaps, more than one-half would
have died before they could be acclimated to the country to which they
would be driven. I have suffered very great hardships for this cause,
as I had to walk from Little Traverse through the dense forest, and
almost the entire length of the southern peninsula of Michigan, in
order to reach the authorities of the State to hold conference with
them upon the subject of the citizenship of the Ottawas and Chippewas,
and walked on snow-shoes in the middle of winter in company with one of
our young chieftains from Cross Village. [Footnote: Mr. Wardsworth also
accompanied us from Elk Rapids, on his way to Detroit to obtain a
commission as surveyor on some part of the Grand Traverse region.] We
were subjected to great exposure with only a camp fire for several days
in the month of February.
After crossing Houghton Lake, which is the head waters of the Muskegon
river, that evening we swallowed the last morsel of food, and actually
we traveled and camped out with empty stomachs for two days and a half
before we came to any inhabited place. At last we struck the Te-ti-pe-
wa-say (Tittabawassee), one of the principal branches of Saginaw river,
and following down that stream on the ice we came to an Indian camp
which stood by the river side, and also saw many human foot-prints on
the ice, but the camp was deserted and we found nothing to eat. We left
the place and once more followed the river, and after walking about
half a mile we came to another Indian camp, and saw blue smoke coming
out of it. As we came up to the camp we found nothing but women and
children (all the men were out hunting). They gave us food, and we went
on our journey the next day.
We went to Detroit to see Judge Wing to obtain his legal opinion on the
subject of the citizenship of the Ottawa and Chippewa Indians of
Michigan. We had a very pleasant visit with him, and he gave us as his
legal opinion of this matter, that he did not think that it would debar
us from being citizens of the State, because the Government owed us a
little money on account of our former treaties, provided we should
renounce our allegiance to our chiefs and recognize no other chief
authority than the President of the United States; and that we would
not be required to have any writ of naturalization as we are already
naturalized by being American born. After a pleasant visit with Hon.
Judge Wing, we next turned our faces to the State Legislature and
Governor. In this also we thought we were very successful, for the
Governor received us very kindly and gave us much good counsel on the
subject of citizenship, giving us some instructions as to how we should
live under the rule of the State if we should become the children of
the same. He talked to us as though he was talking to his own son who
had just come from a far country and asked his father's permission to
stay in the household.
After a pleasant visit with the Governor, and seeing some of the
members of the State Legislature, receiving full assurance that our
undertaking and object would be well looked after, we retraced our
steps back to Little Traverse, to report the result of our visit. After
that, not many Indians believed these flying reports gotten up by our
white neighbors. In that year, the clause was put in the revised
statutes of the State of Michigan, that every male person of Indian
descent in Michigan not members of any tribe shall be entitled to vote.
In the year 1855, I was again delegated to attend the council of
Detroit for the treaty of 1855, and in that council I made several
speeches before the Hon. Commissioner of Indian Affairs, Mr. Manypenny,
of Washington, on the subject of our educational fund, $8000 per annum,
which had been expended for the education of the Indian youths for the
last nineteen years, and which was to be continued ten years longer.
This sum had never been used directly for any scholars, but it was
stated that it was given to the religious societies which had missions
among the Michigan Indians. In that council I advocated that the said
fund be retained in the hands of the general Government for the benefit
of those Indian youths who really intended to be educated and who went
among the whites or in civilized communities to be educated, and if it
need be, to be used for the collegiate education of those Indian
youths, but let the children at home be educated at home by taxation,
and giving fully my reasons in advancing such proposition. The Hon.
Commissioner was much taken up with my remarks on this subject, I being
the youngest member, and told the older members of the council that he
would like to hear some of them on this subject. "The young man who has
been making remarks on this matter has a very good idea with regard to
your educational funds; now let us hear farther remarks on this subject
by some other members of the council." But not one Indian stirred. And
again and again the next day, I tried to urge this matter to the Hon.
Commissioner and the Indians to cooperate with me, but they would not,
because my people were so ignorant they did not know the value of
education, or else they misunderstood the whole subject. On the third
day, as I was about getting up to make further remarks upon this
subject, one of the old members, who was the most unworthy of all the
company, as he got very drunk the day we arrived in Detroit and was
locked up in jail as disorderly two or three days, arose and said to
the Commissioner that I was not authorized by any of the council to get
up here and make such remarks. "We did not come here to talk about
education, but came expressly to form a treaty." Then burst into a
great laughter all the spectators of the council and some of the
members too. I was told afterwards that it was a put up job to prevent
any change by the persons who had been handling for years this Indian
educational fund, as there were a number of them in the council hall.
Thus was lost one of the most noble objects which ought to have been
first looked after.
After the council dispersed and came home, I sat down and wrote a
long article, giving the full history of the past in regard to this
matter; how our educational fund, $8000 per annum, had been handled and
conducted for nearly twenty years, and yet not one Indian youth could
spell the simplest word in the English language, and these writings I
had published in the Detroit Tribune for public inspection.