On its highest peak our Watch Tower was situated, from which we had a
fine view for many miles up and down Rock river, and in every direction.
On the side of this bluff we had our corn fields, extending about two
miles up parallel with the larger river, where they adjoined those of
the Foxes, whose village was on the same stream, opposite the lower end
of Rock Island, and three miles distant from ours. We had eight hundred
acres in cultivation including what we had on the islands in Rock river.
The land around our village which remained unbroken, was covered with
blue-grass which furnished excellent pasture for our horses. Several
fine springs poured out of the bluff near by, from which we were well
supplied with good water. The rapids of Rock river furnished us with
an abundance of excellent fish, and the land being very fertile, never
failed to produce good crops of corn, beans, pumpkins and squashes. We
always had plenty; our children never cried from hunger, neither were
our people in want. Here our village had stood for more than a hundred
years, during all of which time we were the undisputed possessors of the
Mississippi valley, from the Wisconsin to the Portage des Sioux, near
the mouth of the Missouri, being about seven hundred miles in length.
At this time we had very little intercourse with the whites except those
who were traders. Our village was healthy, and there was no place in
the country possessing such advantages, nor hunting grounds better than
those we had in possession. If a prophet had come to our village in
those days and told us that the things were to take place which have
since come to pass, none of our people would have believed him. What! to
be driven from our village, and our hunting grounds, and not even to be
permitted to visit the graves of our forefathers and relatives and our
friends?
This hardship is not known to the whites. With us it is a custom to
visit the graves of our friends and keep them in repair for many years.
The mother will go alone to weep over the grave of her child. The
brave, with pleasure, visits the grave of his father, after he has been
successful in war, and repaints the post that marks where he lies. There
is no place like that where the bones of our forefathers lie to go to
when in grief. Here prostrate by the tombs of our fathers will the Great
Spirit take pity on us.
But how different is our situation now from what it was in those happy
days. Then were we as happy as the buffalo on the plains, but now, we
are as miserable as the hungry wolf on the prairie. But I am digressing
from my story. Bitter reflections crowd upon my mind and must find
utterance.
When we returned to our village in the spring, from our wintering
grounds, we would finish bartering with our traders, who always followed
us to our village. We purposely kept some of our fine furs for this
trade, and, as there was great opposition among them, who should get
these furs, we always got our goods cheap. After this trade was met, the
traders would give us a few kegs of rum, which were generally promised
in the fall, to encourage us to make a good hunt and not go to war. They
would then start with their furs and peltries, for their homes, and our
old men would take a frolic. At this time our young men never drank.
When this was ended, the next thing to be done was to bury our dead;
such as had died during the year. This is a great medicine feast.
The relations of those who have died, give all the goods they have
purchased, as presents to their friends, thereby reducing themselves to
poverty, to show the Great Spirit that they are humble, so that he will
take pity on them. We would next open the caches, take out the corn
and other provisions which had been put up in the fall. We would then
commence repairing our lodges. As soon as this was accomplished, we
repair the fences around our corn fields and clean them off ready for
planting. This work was done by the women. The men during this time are
feasting on dried venison, bear's meat, wild fowl and corn prepared in
different ways, while recounting to one another what took place during
the winter.
Our women plant the corn, and as soon as they are done we make a feast,
at which we dance the crane dance in which they join us, dressed in
their most gaudy attire, and decorated with feathers. At this feast the
young men select the women they wish to have for wives. He then informs
his mother, who calls on the mother of the girl, when the necessary
arrangements are made and the time appointed for him to come. He goes to
the lodge when all are asleep, or pretend to be, and with his flint and
steel strikes a light and soon finds where his intended sleeps. He then
awakens her, holds the light close to his face that she may know him,
after which he places the light close to her. If she blows it out the
ceremony is ended and he appears in the lodge next morning as one of
the family. If she does not blow out the light, but leaves it burning he
retires from the lodge. The next day he places himself in full view of
it and plays his flute. The young women go out one by one to see who he
is playing for. The tune changes to let them know he is not playing for
them. When his intended makes her appearance at the door, he continues
his courting tune until she returns to the lodge. He then quits playing
and makes another trial at night which mostly turns out favorable.
During the first year they ascertain whether they can agree with each
other and be happy, if not they separate and each looks for another
companion. If we were to live together and disagree, we would be as
foolish as the whites. No indiscretion can banish a woman from her
parental lodge; no difference how many children she may bring home she
is always welcome--the kettle is over the fire to feed them.
The crane dance often lasts two or three days. When this is over, we
feast again and have our national dance. The large square in the village
is swept and prepared for the purpose. The chiefs and old warriors take
seats on mats, which have been spread on the upper end of the square,
next come the drummers and singers, the braves and women form the sides,
leaving a large space in the middle. The drums beat and the singing
commences. A warrior enters the square keeping time with the music. He
shows the manner he started on a war party, how he approached the enemy,
he strikes and shows how he killed him. All join in the applause, and
he then leaves the square and another takes his place. Such of our young
men have not been out in war parties and killed in enemy stand back
ashamed, not being allowed to enter the square. I remember that I was
ashamed to look where our young men stood, before I could take my stand
in the ring as a warrior.
What pleasure it is to an old warrior, to see his son come forward and
relate his exploits. It makes him feel young, induces him to enter the
square and "fight his battles o'er again."
This national dance makes our warriors. When I was travelling last
summer on a steamboat on the river, going from New York to Albany, I was
shown the place where the Americans dance the war-dance, (West Point),
where the old warriors recount to their young men what they have done
to stimulate them to go and do likewise. This surprised me, as I did not
think the whites understood our way of making braves.
When our national dance is over, our cornfields hoed, every weed dug
up and our corn about knee high, all our young men start in a direction
toward sundown, to hunt deer and buffalo and to kill Sioux if any are
found on our hunting grounds. A part of our old men and women go to the
lead mines to make lead, and the remainder of our people start to fish
and get meat stuff. Every one leaves the village and remains away
about forty days. They then return, the hunting party bringing in dried
buffalo and deer meat, and sometimes Sioux scalps, when they are found
trespassing on our hunting grounds. At other times they are met by a
party of Sioux too strong for them and are driven in. If the Sioux have
killed the Sacs last, they expect to be retaliated upon and will fly
before them, and so with us. Each party knows that the other has a
right to retaliate, which induces those who have killed last to give way
before their enemy, as neither wishes to strike, except to avenge the
death of relatives. All our wars are instigated by the relations of
those killed, or by aggressions on our hunting grounds. The party from
the lead mines brings lead, and the others dried fish, and mats for our
lodges. Presents are now made by each party, the first giving to the
others dried buffalo and deer, and they in return presenting them lead,
dried fish and mats. This is a happy season of the year, having plenty
of provisions, such as beans, squashes and other produce; with our dried
meat and fish, we continue to make feasts and visit each other until
our corn is ripe. Some lodge in the village a feast daily to the Great
Spirit. I cannot explain this so that the white people will understand
me, as we have no regular standard among us.
Every one makes his feast as he thinks best, to please the Great Spirit,
who has the care of all beings created. Others believe in two Spirits,
one good and one bad, and make feasts for the Bad Spirit, to keep him
quiet. They think that if they can make peace with him, the Good Spirit
will not hurt them. For my part I am of the opinion, that so far as we
have reason, we have a right to use it in determining what is right
or wrong, and we should always pursue that path which we believe to be
right, believing that "whatsoever is, is right." If the Great and Good
Spirit wished us to believe and do as the whites, he could easily change
our opinions, so that we could see, and think, and act as they do. We
are nothing compared to his power, and we feel and know it. We have men
among us, like the whites, who pretend to know the right path, but will
not consent to show it without pay. I have no faith in their paths, but
believe that every man must make his own path.
When our corn is getting ripe, our young people watch with anxiety for
the signal to pull roasting ears, as none dare touch them until the
proper time. When the corn is fit for use another great ceremony takes
place, with feasting and returning thanks to the Great Spirit for giving
us Corn.
I will has relate the manner in which corn first came. According to
tradition handed down to our people, a beautiful woman was seen to
descend from the clouds, and alight upon the earth, by two of our
ancestors who had killed a deer, and were sitting by a fire roasting
a part of it to eat. They were astonished at seeing her, and concluded
that she was hungry and had smelt the meat. They immediately went to
her, taking with them a piece of the roasted venison. They presented
it to her, she ate it, telling them to return to the spot where she was
sitting at the end of one year, and they would find a reward for
their kindness and generosity. She then ascended to the clouds and
disappeared. The men returned to their village, and explained to the
tribe what they had seen, done ad heard, but were laughed at by their
people. When the period had arrived for them to visit this consecrated
ground, where they were to find a reward for their attention to the
beautiful woman of the clouds, they went with a large party, and found
where her right hand had rested on the ground corn growing, where the
left hand had rested beans, and immediately where she had been seated,
tobacco.
The two first have ever since been cultivated by our people as our
principal provisions, and the last is used for smoking. The white people
have since found out the latter, and seem to it relish it as much as we
do, as they use it in different ways: Smoking, snuffing and chewing.
We thank the Great Spirit for all the good he has conferred upon us.
For myself, I never take a drink of water from a spring without being
mindful of his goodness.
We next have our great ball play, from three to five hundred on a side
play this game. We play for guns, lead, homes and blankets, or any other
kind of property we may have. The successful party takes the stakes,
and all return to our lodges with peace and friendship. We next commence
horse racing, and continue on, sport and feasting until the corn is
secured. We then prepare to leave our village for our hunting grounds.
The traders arrive and give us credit for guns, flints, powder, shot
and lead, and such articles as we want to clothe our families with
and enable us to hunt. We first, however, hold a council with them, to
ascertain the price they will give for our skins, and then they will
charge us for the goods. We inform them where we intend hunting, and
tell them where to build their houses. At this place we deposit a part
of our corn, and leave our old people. The traders have always been kind
to them and relieved them when in want, and consequently were always
much respected by our people, and never since we were a nation, has one
of them been killed by our people.
We then disperse in small parties to make our hunt, and as soon as it
is over, we return to our trader's establishment, with our skins, and
remain feasting, playing cards and at other pastimes until the close f
the winter. Our young men then start on the beaver hunt, others to hunt
raccoons and muskrats; the remainder of our people go to the sugar camps
to make sugar. All leave our encampment and appoint a place to meet on
the Mississippi, so that we may return together to our village in the
spring. We always spend our time pleasantly at the sugar camp. It being
the season for wild fowl, we lived well and always had plenty, when the
hunters came in that we might make a feast for them. After this is over
we return to our village, accompanied sometimes by our traders. In this
way the time rolled round happily. But these are times that were.
While on the subject of our manners and customs, it might be well to
relate an instance that occurred near our village just five years before
we left it for the last time.
In 1827, a young Sioux Indian got lost on the prairie, in a snow storm,
and found his way into a camp of the Sacs. According to Indian customs,
although he was an enemy, he was safe while accepting their hospitality.
He remained there for some time on account of the severity of the storm.
Becoming well acquainted he fell in love with the daughter of the Sac
at whose village he had been entertained, and before leaving for his own
country, promised to come to the Sac village for her at a certain time
during the approaching summer. In July he made his way to the Rock river
village, secreting himself in the woods until he met the object of his
love, who came out to the field with her mother to assist her in hoeing
corn. Late in the afternoon her mother left her and went to the village.
No sooner had she got out of hearing, than he gave a loud whistle which
assured the maiden that he had returned. She continued hoeing leisurely
to the end of the row, when her lover came to meet her, and she promised
to come to him as soon as she could go to the lodge and get her blanket,
and together they would flee to his country. But unfortunately for the
lovers the girl's two brothers had seen the meeting, and after procuring
their guns started in pursuit of them. A heavy thunderstorm was coming
on at the time. The lovers hastened to, and took shelter under a cliff
of rocks, at Black Hawk's watchtower. Soon after a loud peal of thunder
was heard, the cliff of rocks was shattered in a thousand pieces, and
the lovers buried beneath, while in full view of her pursuing brothers.
This, their unexpected tomb, still remains undisturbed.
This tower to which my name had been applied, was a favorite resort and
was frequently visited by me alone, when I could sit and smoke my
pipe, and look with wonder and pleasure, at the grand scenes that
were presented by the sun's rays, even across the mighty water. On
one occasion a Frenchman, who had been making his home in our village,
brought his violin with him to the tower, to play and dance for the
amusement of a number of our people, who had assembled there, and while
dancing with his back to the cliff accidentally fell over it and was
killed by the fall. The Indians say that always at the same time of the
year, soft strains of the violin can be heard near that spot.
On returning in the spring from oar hunting grounds, I had the pleasure
of meeting our old friend, the trader of Peoria, at Rock Island. He came
up in a boat from St. Louis, not as a trader, but as our Agent. We were
well pleased to see him. He told us that he narrowly escaped falling
into the hands of Dixon. He remained with us a short time, gave us good
advice, and then returned to St. Louis.
The Sioux having committed depredations on our people, we sent out war
parties that summer, who succeeded in killing fourteen.
I paid several visits to Fort Armstrong, at Rock Island, during the
summer, and was always well received by the gentlemanly officers
stationed there, who were distinguished for their bravery, and they
never trampled upon an enemy's rights. Colonel George Davenport resided
near the garrison, and being in connection with the American Fur
Company, furnished us the greater portion of our goods. We were not as
happy then, in our village, as formerly. Our people got more liquor from
the small traders than customary. I used all my influence to prevent
drunkenness, but without effect. As the settlements progressed towards
us, we became worse off and more unhappy.
Many of our people, instead of going to the old hunting grounds, when
game was plenty, would go near the settlements to hunt, and, instead of
saving their skins, to pay the trader for goods furnished them in the
fall, would sell them to the settlement for whisky, and return in
the spring with their families almost naked, and without the means of
getting anything for them.
About this time my eldest son was taken sick and died. He had always
been a dutiful child and had just grown to manhood. Soon after, my
youngest daughter, an interesting and affectionate child, died also.
This was a hard stroke, because I loved my children. In my distress
I left the noise of the village and built my lodge on a mound in the
corn-field, and enclosed it with a fence, around which I planted corn
and beans. Here I was with my family alone. I gave everything I had
away, and reduced myself to poverty. The only covering I retained was
a piece of buffalo robe. I blacked my face and resolved on fasting for
twenty-four moons, for the loss of my two children--drinking only of
water during the day, and eating sparingly of boiled corn at sunset. I
fulfilled my promise, hoping that the Great Spirit would take pity on
me.
My nation had now some difficulty with the Iowas. Our young men had
repeatedly killed some of them, and the breaches had always been made
up by giving presents to the relations of those killed. But the last
council we had with them, we promised that in case any more of their
people were killed ours, instead of presents, we would give up the
person or persons, who had done the injury. We made this determination
known to our people, but notwithstanding this, one of our young men
killed an Iowa the following winter.
A party of our people were about starting for the Iowa village to give
the young man up, and I agreed to accompany them. When we were ready
to start, I called at the lodge for the young man to go with us. He was
sick, but willing to go, but his brother, however, prevented him and
insisted on going to die in his place, as he was unable to travel. We
started, and on the seventh day arrived in sight of the Iowa village,
and within a short distance of it we halted ad dismounted. We all bid
farewell to our young brave, who entered the village singing his death
song, and sat down on the square in the middle of the village. One of
the Iowa chiefs came out to us. We told him that we had fulfilled our
promise, that we had brought the brother of the young man who had killed
one of his people--that he had volunteered to come in his place, in
consequence of his brother being unable to travel from sickness. We
had no further conversation but mounted our horses and rode off. As we
started I cast my eye toward the village, and observed the Iowas coming
out of their lodges with spears and war clubs. We took the backward
trail and travelled until dark--then encamped and made a fire. We had
not been there long before we heard the sound of homes coming toward us.
We seized our arms, but instead of an enemy it was our young brave with
two horses. He told me that after we had left him, they menaced him with
death for some time--then gave him something to eat--smoked the pipe
with him and made him a present of the two horses and some goods, and
started him after us. When we arrived at on, village our people were
much pleased, and for their noble and generous conduct on this occasion,
not one of the Iowa people has been killed since by our nation.
That fall I visited Malden with several of my band, and was well treated
by the agent of our British Father, who gave us a variety of presents.
He also gave me a medal, and told me there never would be war between
England and America again; but for my fidelity to the British, during
the war that had terminated some time before, requested me to come with
my band and get presents every year, as Colonel Dixon had promised me.
I returned and hunted that winter on the Two Rivers. The whites were now
settling the country fast. I was out one day hunting in a bottom, and
met three white men. They accused me of killing their hogs. I denied it,
but they would not listen to me. One of them took my gun out of my
hand and fired it off--then took out the flint, gave it back to me and
commenced beating me with sticks, ordering me at the same time to be
off. I was so much bruised that I could not sleep for several nights.
Some time after this occurrence, one of my camp cut a bee tree and
carried the honey to his lodge. A party of white men soon followed him,
and told him the bee tree was theirs, and that he had no right to cut
it. He pointed to the honey and told them to take it. They were not
satisfied with this, but took all the packs of skins that he had
collected during the winter, to pay his trader and clothe his family
with in the spring, and carried them off.
How could we like a people who treated us so unjustly? We determined to
break up our camp for fear they would do worse, and when we joined
our people in the spring a great many of them complained of similar
treatment.
This summer our agent came to live at Rock Island. He treated us well
and gave us good advice. I visited him and the trader very often during
the summer, and for the first time heard talk of our having to leave our
village. The trader, Colonel George Davenport, who spoke our language,
explained to me the terms of the treaty that had been made, and said
we would be obliged to leave the Illinois side of the Mississippi, and
advised us to select a good place for our village and remove to it in
the spring. He pointed out the difficulties we would have to encounter
if we remained at our village on Rock river. He had great influence with
the principal Fox chief, his adopted brother, Keokuk. He persuaded him
to leave his village, go to the west side of the Mississippi and build
another, which he did the spring following. Nothing was talked of but
leaving our village. Keokuk had been persuaded to consent to go, and was
using all his influence, backed by the war chief at Fort Armstrong and
our agent and trader at Rock Island, to induce others to go with him. He
sent the crier through our village, to inform our people that it was the
wish of our Great Father that we should remove to the west side of the
Mississippi, and recommended the Iowa river as a good place for the
new village. He wished his party to make such arrangements, before they
started on their winter's hunt, an to preclude the necessity of their
returning to the village in the spring.
The party opposed to removing called on me for my opinion. I gave it
freely, and after questioning Quashquame about the sale of our lands, he
assured me that he "never had consented to the sale of our village."
I now promised this party to be the leader, and raised the standard
of opposition to Keokuk, with a full determination not to leave our
village. I had an interview with Keokuk, to see if this difficulty could
not be settled with our Great Father, and told him to propose to give
any other land that our Great Father might choose, even our lead mines,
to be peaceably permitted to keep the small point of land on which our
village was situated. I was of the opinion that the white people had
plenty of land and would never take our village from us. Keokuk promised
to make an exchange if possible, and applied to our agent, and the great
chief at St. Louis, who had charge of all the agents, for permission to
go to Washington for that purpose.
This satisfied us for a time. We started to our hunting grounds with
good hopes that something would be done for us. Doing the winter I
received information that three families of whites had come to our
village and destroyed some of our lodges, were making fences and
dividing our cornfields for their own use. They were quarreling among
themselves about their lines of division. I started immediately for
Rock river, a distance of ten days' travel, and on my arrival found the
report true. I went to my lodge and saw a family occupying it. I wished
to talk to them but they could not understand me. I then went to Rock
Island; the agent being absent, I told the interpreter what I wanted to
say to these people, viz: "Not to settle on our lands, nor trouble our
fences, that there was plenty of land in the country for them to settle
upon, and that they must leave our village, as we were coming back to
it in the spring." The interpreter wrote me a paper, I went back to the
village and showed it to the intruders, but could not understand their
reply. I presumed, however, that they would remove as I expected them
to. I returned to Rock Island, passed the night there and had a long
conversation with the trader. He advised me to give up and make my
village with Keokuk on the Iowa river. I told him that I would not. The
next morning I crossed the Mississippi on very bad ice, but the Great
Spirit had made it strong, that I might pass over safe. I traveled three
days farther to see the Winnebago sub-agent and converse with him about
our difficulties. He gave no better news than the trader had done. I
then started by way of Rock river, to see the Prophet, believing that he
as a man of great knowledge. When we met, I explained to him everything
as it was. He at once agreed that I was right, and advised me never to
give up our village, for the whites to plow up the bones of our people.
He said, that if we remained at our village, the whites would not
trouble us, and advised me to get Keokuk, and the party that consented
to go with him to the Iowa in the spring, to return and remain at our
village.
I returned to my hunting ground, after an absence of one moon, and
related what I had done. In a short time we came up to our village, and
found that the whites had not left it, but that others had come, and
that the greater part of our cornfields had been enclosed. When we
landed the whites appeared displeased because we came back. We repaired
the lodges that hid been left standing and built others. Keokuk came to
the village, but his object was to persuade others to follow him to the
Iowa. He had accomplished nothing towards making arrangements for us to
remain, or to exchange other lands for our village. There was no more
friendship existing between us. I looked upon him as a coward and no
brave, to abandon his village to be occupied by strangers. What right
had these people to our village, and our fields, which the Great Spirit
had given us to live upon?
My reason teaches me that land cannot be sold. The Great Spirit gave it
to his children to live upon and cultivate as far as necessary for their
subsistence, and so long as they occupy and cultivate it they have the
right to the soil, but if they voluntarily leave it, then any other
people have a right to settle on it. Nothing can be sold but such things
as can be carried away.
In consequence of the improvements of the intruders on our fields, we
found considerable difficulty to get ground to plant a little corn. Some
of the whites permitted us to plant small patches in the fields they had
fenced, keeping all the best ground for themselves. Our women had great
difficulty in climbing their fences, being unaccustomed to the kind, and
were ill treated if they left a rail down.
One of my old friends thought he was safe. His cornfield was on a small
island in Rock river. He planted his corn, it came up well, but the
white man saw it; he wanted it, and took his teams over, ploughed up
the crop and replanted it for himself. The old man shed tears, not for
himself but on account of the distress his family would be in if they
raised no corn. The white people brought whisky to our village, made our
people drink, and cheated them out of their homes, guns and traps.
This fraudulent system was carried to such an extent that I apprehended
serious difficulties might occur, unless a stop was put to it.
Consequently I visited all the whites and begged them not to sell my
people whisky. One of them continued the practice openly; I took a party
of my young men, went to his house, took out his barrel, broke in the
head and poured out the whisky. I did this for fear some of 'the whites
might get killed by my people when they were drunk.
Our people were treated very badly by the whites on many occasions. At
one time a white man beat one of our women cruelly, for pulling a few
suckers of corn out of his field to suck when she was hungry. At another
time one of our young men was beat with clubs by two white men, for
opening a fence which crossed our road to take his horse through. His
shoulder blade was broken and his body badly braised, from the effects
of which he soon after died.
Bad and cruel as our people were treated by the whites, not one of them
was hurt or molested by our band. I hope this will prove that we are
a peaceable people--having permitted ten men to take possession of our
corn fields, prevent us from planting corn, burn our lodges, ill-treat
our women, and beat to death our men without offering resistance to
their barbarous cruelties. This is a lesson worthy for the white man to
learn: to use forebearance when injured.
We acquainted our agent daily with our situation, and through him the
great chief at St. Louis, and hoped that something would be done for us.
The whites were complaining at the same time that we were intruding upon
their rights. They made it appear that they were the injured party, and
we the intruders. They called loudly to the great war chief to protect
their property.
How smooth must be the language of the whites, when they can make right
look like wrong, and wrong like right.
During this summer I happened at Rock Island, when a great chief
arrived, whom I had known as the great chief of Illinois, (Governor
Cole) in company with another chief who I have been told is a great
writer (judge James Hall.) I called upon them and begged to explain the
grievances to them, under which my people and I were laboring, hoping
that they could do something for us. The great chief however, did not
seem disposed to council with, me. He said he was no longer the chief
of Illinois; that his children had selected another father in his stead,
and that he now only ranked as they did. I was surprised at this talk,
as I had always heard that he was a good brave and great chief. But the
white people appear to never be satisfied. When they get a good father,
they hold councils at the suggestion of some bad, ambitious man, who
wants the place himself, and conclude among themselves that this man, or
some other equally ambitious, would make a better father than they have,
and nine times out of ten they don't get as good a one again.
I insisted on explaining to these chiefs the true situation of my
people. They gave their assent. I rose and made a speech, in which
I explained to them the treaty made by Quashquame, and three of our
braves, according to the manner the trader and others had explained it
to me. I then told them that Quashquame and his party positively denied
having ever sold my village, and that as I had never known them to lie,
I was determined to keep it in possession.
I told them that the white people had already entered our village,
burned our lodges, destroyed on, fences, ploughed up our corn and beat
our people. They had brought whisky into our country, made our people
drunk, and taken from them their homes, guns and traps, and that I had
borne all this injury, without suffering any of my braves to raise a
hand against the whites.
My object in holding this council was to get the opinion of these two
chiefs as to the best course for me to pursue. I had appealed in vain,
time after time to our agent, who regularly represented our situation to
the chief at St. Louis, whose duty it was to call upon the Great Father
to have justice done to us, but instead of this we are told that the
white people wanted our county and we must leave it for them!
I did not think it possible that our Great Father wished us to leave our
village where we had lived so long, and where the bones of so many of
our people had been laid. The great chief said that as he no longer had
any authority he could do nothing for us, and felt sorry that it was
not in his power to aid us, nor did he know how to advise us. Neither
of them could do anything for us, but both evidently were very sorry. It
would give e great pleasure at all times to take these two chiefs by the
hand.
That fall I paid a visit to the agent before we started to our hunting
grounds, to hear if he had any good news for me. He had news. He said
that the land on which our village now stood was ordered to be sold to
individuals, and that when sold our right to remain by treaty would be
at an end, and that if we returned next spring we would be forced to
remove.
We learned during the winter, that part of the land where our village
stood had been sold to individuals, and that the trader at Rock Island,
Colonel Davenport, had bought the greater part that had been sold. The
reason was now plain to me why he urged us to remove. His object, we
thought, was to get our lands. We held several councils that winter to
determine what we should do. We resolved in one of them, to return to
our village as usual in the spring. We concluded that if we were removed
by force, that the trader, agent and others must be the cause, and that
if they were found guilty of having driven us from our village they
should be killed. The trader stood foremost on this list. He had
purchased the land on which my lodge stood, and that of our graveyard
also. We therefore proposed to kill him and the agent, the interpreter,
the great chief at St. Louis, the war chiefs at Forts Armstrong, Rock
Island and Keokuk, these being the principal persons to blame for
endeavoring to remove us. Our women received bad accounts from the
women who had been raising corn at the new village, of the difficulty
of breaking the new prairie with hoes, and the small quantity of corn
raised. We were nearly in the same condition with regard to the
latter, it being the first time I ever knew our people to be in want of
provisions.
I prevailed upon some of Keokuk's band to return this spring to the Rock
river village, but Keokuk himself would not come. I hoped that he would
get permission to go to Washington to settle our affairs with our Great
Father. I visited the agent at Rock Island. He was displeased because we
had returned to our village, and told me that we must remove to the west
of the Mississippi. I told him plainly that we would not. I visited the
interpreter at his house, who advised me to do as the agent had directed
me. I then went to see the trader and upbraided him for buying our
lands. He said that if he had not purchased them some person else would,
and that if our Great Father would make an exchange with us, he would
willingly give up the land he had purchased to the government. This I
thought was fair, and began to think that he had not acted so badly as I
had suspected. We again repaired our lodges and built others, as most
of our village had been burnt and destroyed. Our women selected small
patches to plant corn, where the whites had not taken them in their
fences, and worked hard to raise something for our children to subsist
upon.
I was told that according to the treaty, we had no right to remain on
the lands sold, and that the government would force us to leave them.
There was but a small portion however that had been sold, the balance
remaining in the hands of the government. We claimed the right, if
we had no other, to "live and hunt upon it as long as it remained
the property of the government," by a stipulation in the treaty that
required us to evacuate it after it had been sold. This was the land
that we wished to inhabit and thought we had a right to occupy.
I heard that there was a great chief on the Wabash, and sent a party to
get his advice. They informed him that we had not sold our village. He
assured them then, that if we had not sold the land on which our village
stood, our Great Father would not take it from us.
I started early to Malden to see the chief of my British Father, and
told him my story. He gave the same reply that the chief on the Wabash
had given, and in justice to him I must say he never gave me any bad
advice, but advised me to apply to our American Father, who, he said,
would do us justice. I next called on the great chief at Detroit and
made the same statement to him that I had made to the chief of our
British Father. He gave me the same reply. He said if we had not sold
our lands, and would remain peaceably on them, that we would not be
disturbed. This assured me that I was right, and determined me to hold
out as I had promised my people. I returned from Malden late in the
fall. My people were gone to their hunting ground, whither I followed.
Here I learned that they had been badly treated all summer by the
whites, and that a treaty had been held at Prairie du Chien. Keokuk
and some of our people attended it, and found that our Great Father had
exchanged a small strip of the land that had been ceded by Quashquame
and his party, with the Pottowattomies for a portion of their lead near
Chicago. That the object of this treaty was to get it back again, and
that the United States had agreed to give them sixteen thousand dollars
a year, forever for this small strip of land, it being less than a
twentieth part of that taken from our nation for one thousand dollars a
year. This bears evidence of something I cannot explain. This land they
say belonged to the United States. What reason then, could have induced
them to exchange it with the Pottowattomies if it was so valuable?
Why not keep it? Or if they found they had made a bad bargain with the
Pottowattomies, why not take back their land at a fair proportion of
what they gave our nation for it! If this small portion of the land
that they took from us for one thousand dollars a year, be worth sixteen
thousand dollars a year forever to the Pottowattomies, then the whole
tract of country taken from us ought to be worth, to our nation, twenty
times as much a this small fraction.
Here I was again puzzled to find out how the white people reasoned, and
began to doubt whether they had any standard of right and wrong.
Communication was kept up between myself and the Prophet. Runners were
sent to the Arkansas, Red river and Texas, not on the subject of our
lands, but on a secret mission, which I am not at present permitted to
explain.
It was related to me that the chiefs and head men of the Foxes had
been invited to Prairie du Chien, to hold a Council for the purpose of
settling the difficulties existing between them and the Sioux.
The chiefs and head men, amounting to nine, started for the place
designated, taking with them one woman, and were met by the Menonomees
and Sioux, near the Wisconsin and killed, all except one man. Having
understood that the whole matter was published shortly after it
occurred, and is known to the white people, I will say no more about it.
I would here remark, that our pastimes and sports had been laid aside
for two years. We were a divided people, forming two parties. Keokuk
being at the head of one, willing to barter our rights merely for the
good opinion of the whites, and cowardly enough to desert our village
to them. I was at the head of the other division, and was determined to
hold on to my village, although I had been ordered to leave it. But, I
considered, as myself and band had no agency in selling our county, and
that, as provision had been made in the treaty, for us all to remain
on it as long as it belonged to the United States, that we could not be
forced away. I refused therefore to quit my village. It was here that I
was born, and here lie the bones of many friends and relations. For
this spot I felt a sacred reverence, and never could consent to leave it
without being forced therefrom.
When I called to mind the scenes of my youth and those of later days,
when I reflected that the theatre on which these were acted, had been
so long the home of my fathers, who now slept on the hills around it, I
could not bring my mind to consent to leave this country to the whites
for any earthly consideration.
The winter passed off in gloom. We made a bad hunt for want of guns,
traps and other necessaries which the whites had taken from our people
for whisky. The prospect before me was a bad one. I fasted and called
upon the Great Spirit to direct my steps to the right path. I was in
great sorrow because all the whites with whom I was acquainted and had
been on terms of intimacy, advised me contrary to my wishes, that I
began to doubt whether I had a friend among them.
Keokuk, who has a smooth tongue, and is a great speaker, was busy in
persuading my band that I was wrong, and thereby making many of them
dissatisfied with me. I had one consolation, for all the women were on
my side on account of their cornfields.
On my arrival again at my village, with my band increased, I found it
worse than before. I visited Rock Island and the agent again ordered me
to quit my village. He said that if we did not, troops would be sent to
drive us off. He reasoned with me and told me it would be better for us
to be with the rest of our people, so that we might avoid difficulty
and live in peace. The interpreter joined him and gave me so many good
reasons that I almost wished I had not undertaken the difficult task I
had pledged myself to my brave band to perform. In this mood I called
upon the trader, who is fond of talking, and had long been my friend,
but now amongst those who advised me to give up my village. He received
me very friendly and went on to defend Keokuk in what he had done,
endeavoring to show me that I was bringing distress on our women and
children. He inquired if some terms could not be made that would be
honorable to me and satisfactory to my braves, for us to remove to the
west side of the Mississippi. I replied that if our Great Father could
do us justice and make the proposition, I could then give up honorably.
He asked me "if the great chief at St. Louis would give us six thousand
dollars to purchase provisions and other articles, if I would give
up peaceably and remove to the west side of the Mississippi?" After
thinking some time I agreed that I could honorably give up, being paid
for it, according to our customs, but told him that I could not make the
proposal myself, even if I wished, because it would be dishonorable in
me to do so. He said that he would do it by sending word to the great
chief at St. Louis that he could remove us peaceably for the amount
stated, to the west side of the Mississippi. A steamboat arrived at the
island during my stay. After its departure the trader told me that he
had requested a war chief, who was stationed at Galena, and was on board
the steamboat, to make the offer to the great chief at St. Louis, and
that he would soon be back and bring his answer. I did not let my people
know what had taken place for fear they would be displeased. I did not
much like what had been done myself, and tried to banish it from my
mind.
After a few days had passed the war chief returned and brought an answer
that "the great chief at St. Louis would give us nothing, and that if we
did not remove immediately we would be driven off."
I was not much displeased with the answer they brought me, because I
would rather have laid my bones with those of my forefathers than
remove for any consideration. Yet if a friendly offer had been made as
I expected, I would, for the sake of our women and children have removed
peaceably.
I now resolved to remain in my village, and make no resistance if the
military came, but submit to my fate. I impressed the importance of this
course on all my band, and directed them in case the military came not
to raise an arm against them.
About this time our agent was put out of office, for what reason I could
never ascertain. I then thought it was for wanting to make us leave our
village and if so it was right, because I was tired of hearing him talk
about it. The interpreter, who had been equally as bad in trying to
persuade us to leave our village was retained in office, and the young
man who took the place of our agent, told the same old story over about
removing us. I was then satisfied that this could not have been the
cause.
Our women had planted a few patches of corn which was growing finely,
and promised a subsistence for our children, but the white people again
commenced ploughing it up. I now determined to put a stop to it by
clearing our county of the intruders. I went to their principal men and
told them that they should and must leave our country, giving them until
the middle of the next day to remove. The worst left within the time
appointed, but the one who remained, represented that his family, which
was large, would be in a starving condition, if he went and left his
crop. He promised to behave well, if I would consent to let him remain
until fall, in order to secure his crop. He spoke reasonably and I
consented.
We now resumed some of our games and pastimes, having been assured by
the prophet that we would not be removed. But in a little while it was
ascertained that a great war chief, General Gaines, was on his way to
Rock river with a great number of soldiers. I again called upon the
prophet, who requested a little time to see into the matter. Early next
morning he came to me and said he had been dreaming; that he saw nothing
bad in this great war chief, General Gaines, who was now near Rock
river. That his object was merely to frighten us from our village, that
the white people might get our land for nothing. He assured us that
this great war chief dare not, and would not, hurt any of us. That the
Americans were at peace with the British, and when they made peace, the
British required, and the Americans agreed to it, that they should never
interrupt any nation of Indians that was at peace, and that all we had
to do to retain our village was to refuse any and every offer that might
be made by this war chief.
The war chief arrived and convened a council at the agency. Keokuk and
Wapello were sent for, and with a number of their band were present.
The council house was opened and all were admitted, and myself and band
were sent for to attend. When we arrived at the door singing a war song,
and armed with lances, spears, war clubs, bows and arrows, as if going
to battle, I halted and refused to enter, as I could see no necessity or
propriety in having the room crowded with those who were already there.
If the council was convened for us, why then have others in our room.
The war chief having sent all out except Keokuk, Wapello and a few
of their chiefs and braves, we entered the council in this warlike
appearance, being desirous of showing the war chief that we were not
afraid. He then rose and made a speech. He said:
"The president is very sorry to be put to the trouble and expense of
sending so large a body of soldiers here to remove you from the lands
you have long since ceded to the United States. Your Great Father has
already warned you repeatedly, through your agent, to leave the country,
and he is very sorry to find that you have disobeyed his orders. Your
Great Father wishes you well, and asks nothing from you but what is
reasonable and right. I hope you will consult your own interests, and
leave the country you are occupying, and go to the other side of the
Mississippi."