and Silver Heels was lying flat on his stomach, according to his usual
custom when he watched to surprize an enemy. The officer passed without
perceiving him, when he instantly sprung up, and laying hold of the
horse’s bridle, told the officer to dismount and fight him. The officer
judging it improper to risk his life against a Savage, refused to
dismount, and endeavoured to spur his horse. Silver Heels perceiving his
intention, tomahawked the horse, who fell down suddenly, and the officer
rolled on the ground without being hurt. Now, says Silver Heels, we are
on equal terms, and, as you have a brace of pistols and a sword, you
cannot have any objection to fight me. The officer still refusing,
Silver Heels told him, that he thought himself a warrior when he ordered
one of his white slaves to be flogged for a {166} breach of martial law,
but that he had now forgot the character he then assumed, or he
certainly would have fought him: and looking very sternly, added, that
he had a great mind to make him change his climate; but as that mode of
proceeding would not answer his purpose, and sufficiently expose him
among his brother warriors, he might walk home as soon as he pleased;
and that to-morrow morning he would come to the fort with the horse’s
scalp, and relate the circumstance. The officer was rejoiced to escape
so well, though he was obliged to walk a distance of three miles.
The next morning Silver Heels arrived, and asked to see the officer, but
was denied admission into his presence. Some of his brother officers
came out, and enquired his business; he related to them the circumstance
between the officer and himself, and exhibited the trophy; adding, that
to-morrow he intended going to war, and should make a point of taking an
old woman prisoner, whom he should send to take the command of the fort,
as the great chief was only fit to fight with his dog, or cat, when he
was eating, lest they should have more than him. Then asking for some
rum (which was given him), he left the fort to fulfil his promise, but
was soon after killed in an engagement, fighting manfully at the head of
a party of Mohawks, near the Bloody Pond, joining to Lord Loudon’s road,
in the way to Albany.
Just before the frost set in, I returned to Montreal, and visited my old
Cahnuaga friends, where I amused myself in the Indian way, as I always
preferred their society to the Canadians; notwithstanding, I
occasionally mixed in more civilized amusements, and as I danced
tolerably well, my company was generally sought after.
{167} The Canadians are particularly fond of dancing, from the
_seigneur_ to the _habitant_; and though the meaner sort of people do
not excel in it, there is a peculiar ease, and careless indifference,
which, though it appears too rustic, is far from being disagreeable. The
beverage on these occasions is sour Spanish red wine, called black
strap; and this, homely as it would be thought in more refined
assemblies, is there considered as a very handsome manner of treating
their friends.
The winter being passed, I determined to go to Quebec, and endeavour to
get a passage to England, not having any prospect of a permanent
settlement in Canada. On my arrival I put up at a tavern, and lived as
moderately as possible, from necessity more than inclination; for every
one knows that Indian traders, like sailors, are seldom sufficiently
prudent to save much money. Fortunately for me, I met with an old
school-fellow at Quebec, a captain of a ship, whom I had not seen for
sixteen years. To him I communicated my distressed situation, and by him
was generously relieved. In addition to this act of kindness, he
promised me a free passage to England on board his vessel, which offer I
accepted with pleasure and gratitude.
Having fixed the time of his departure, I took the post, and went to
Montreal to settle my affairs: I then returned to Quebec, from whence we
sailed the 11th day of October, 1783, and put into Newfoundland. When we
came in sight of harbour, several of us requested permission to take the
long boat, and row on shore, which was granted; but it being a dead
calm, we made very little way. We had not left the ship more than a
league, when a southwest wind sprang up, and retarded us considerably.
In the evening the wind abated, and with hard rowing {168} we reached
the shore about midnight, both fatigued and hungry. Early in the morning
the ship came into harbour, and had suffered some damage by beating
about in the night, which induced the captain to dispose of the cargo.
On the 9th of November we left Newfoundland, on board another vessel:
our passage was favourable, without any remarkable occurrence, and we
arrived in London the 30th of the same month.
My native city, upon my arrival, appeared like a new world to me, having
been absent from England fifteen years; and it was with difficulty I
found any of my old friends, the greatest part of them in such a length
of time being dead.
In February, 1784, I entered into an engagement with a relation to
return to Canada; and being furnished with a cargo, left London on the
15th of April following. On the 20th we got under weigh, and put into
Portsmouth, to take in wines. After a bad and tedious passage of eleven
weeks, we arrived safe at Quebec, from whence my goods were sent to
Montreal in small craft. Unfortunately the season was too far advanced
to suffer me to attempt going to Michillimakinac, and wintering in the
inlands, as I had no prospect of providing suitable canoes; nor were my
goods properly assorted, and there was not time sufficient to arrange
them, so as to make the intended voyage. This induced me to consult a
friend upon the occasion, who advised me to dispose of my goods at
public vendue, which I did, at very great loss, so that I could only
remit my friend in London a very small sum in part of payment. In this
adventure nothing succeeded to my wishes, for by my credulity, and being
willing to retrieve, if possible, the loss I had sustained, I soon {169}
increased my difficulties, so that in a few months after my arrival, all
my schemes failing, I was left totally destitute.
In February, 1785, I quitted Montreal, and walked from La Prairie to St.
John’s,[110] where I accidentally found a friend who supplied me with
money to go to New York. I proceeded to Stony Point, where I stayed two
days with some loyalist officers, some of whom accompanied me to Crown
Point, where we also stayed three days.[111] We then parted company, and
I hired a slay, which carried me safely to New York, where I took a
lodging, and lived as moderately as I could.
During my residence there, I met a Loretto Savage, called Indian John,
who had been in the American service all the war, and who waited to
receive a reward for his fidelity, as the Congress were then sitting. He
told me he had been at war for them nine years, had killed a great many
of their enemies, and had only received a gun, two blankets, three
pieces of Indian gartering, and one hundred dollars in paper money,
which he could not make use of; and as I understood his language he
desired me to render him service by interpreting for him to the
governor. I desired him to call at my lodgings, and in the mean time I
wrote down the circumstances he had related to me, that I might be
prepared, in case I was sent for at a short notice.
A few days after he explained to me more fully the nature of his claim,
and how he had been trifled with by Congress. I asked him his reasons
for engaging in the American service; he told me that at the
commencement of the war, the Big Knives (meaning the Americans), had
advised him to turn his heart from the English, and promised to supply
all his {170} wants; and, as an additional inducement, that they would
pay a better price for a scalp than had been usually given, and at the
close of the war he should have land and stock sufficient to maintain
himself and family: but he was now convinced they only meant to serve
themselves, as he had frequently applied for a performance of their
promises without success; and that he was determined to get satisfaction
some way or other.
I told him I was not sorry for his disappointments; that he was a bad
Indian for deserting his good father, who lived on the other side the
great water, and who was universally beloved by all who knew him,
particularly by the Loretto nation; and as the subjects of this great
and good father lived near his village, and gave every proof of their
love and friendship to his nation, which he could not be ignorant of, I
was surprized that he should suffer his heart to be moved by the
changeable winds, and was sorry to add, that I believed he was the only
Loretto Indian with two minds, and therefore I was unwilling to say any
thing in his behalf before Congress.
These remarks on his conduct seemed to affect him, and he replied, that
he hoped, notwithstanding he had deserted the cause of his great father,
he should find me his friend to attend him when his affair should be
taken under consideration by Congress, as he had not any one in New York
who could serve him so essentially. I told him, that in spite of my just
displeasure, his situation had melted my heart, and I would not refuse
his request.
In about four days he came to acquaint me that Congress were then
sitting, and he believed they would pay his demand if I would go {171}
with him, and interpret to the governor; but having taken an active part
against the Americans during the war, I would willingly have been
excused. On his urging my promise to him, I could not resist, and
immediately accompanied him to the council, where Governor Franklin was
president, who asked me if I knew Indian John; I told him, only by
seeing him at New York, and that I came at his particular request to
speak in his behalf. He desired me to assure the Indian that he might
depend on having his demand satisfied in a few days, and to make his
mind easy: this I communicated to him, with which he seemed perfectly
satisfied.
Soon after he was sent for, and he received an order on a merchant for
one hundred dollars, which being presented for payment, was not
honoured: this incensed John, and he desired me to tell the merchant,
that the Congress and their agents were all thieves. The merchant
excused himself by saying that the treasury was very poor, and could not
immediately satisfy every demand.
The next day John went again to the governor, and having acquainted him
with the refusal of the draft, received an order on another merchant,
which was duly honoured.[112] John’s heart was quite elated, and in less
than ten days he had disposed of all the money, like a true Indian,
principally in drink.
My interference in favour of the Indian made me well known, and procured
me an introduction to a respectable mercantile house, from which I got
credit for the Indian trade. Having arranged my cargo, I proceeded in a
vessel to Albany, where I arrived on the 18th of June. {172} At this
place I unloaded my goods, and got them conveyed in a waggon to
Schenectady, where I purchased two boats. On the 6th of July I proceeded
up the Mohawk River, to the German Flats, where I stayed three days;
during which time a band of Oneida Indians came and solicited me to
winter at their village, which was about ten days march from Fort
Stanwix. I complied with their request, and set off with twenty-eight
horses to carry my baggage, being obliged to travel through the woods,
and sold my boats to satisfy those from whom I hired the horses. I
arrived safe at the village with all my goods, but finding the plan was
not likely to turn out advantageous, after a residence with them three
weeks, I bartered for the few skins they had, and having re-purchased my
boats, I left my Indian friends, proceeding immediately to the Jenesee
Lake, where I arrived on the 14th of September.
Having landed and secured my goods, I ordered my men to prepare a house.
The chiefs, on hearing of my arrival, assembled, and came up to me,
accompanied by their young men, expecting presents, which I was obliged
to make; and I asked permission to stay on their ground. Some consented,
and others disapproved; at the last, after consulting each other, they
told me I might go on with the building. The men immediately proceeded
with cheerfulness and dispatch, in hopes of finishing the business
before their return; but how transitory are all human events! whilst the
men were at work, some Indians came in great haste to desire my
attendance at the council fire, which was at a small distance from my
intended place of residence. I obeyed the summons, and sat down by the
chiefs, when one of them rose up, and addressed me to the following
effect.
{173} “You are the Sugar, for so you are called in our tongue, but you
must not have too much sweetness on your lips. All the Oneida Indians
say they have heard that you are only come under a pretence to get our
lands from us; but this must not be, my young warriors will not suffer
any Englishman to settle here. You are like the great chief, General
Johnson, who asked for a spot of ground, or large bed, to lie on; and
when Hendrick, the chief of the Mohawks, had granted his request, he got
possession of a great quantity of our hunting grounds; and we have
reason to think that you intend to dream us out of our natural
rights.[113] We loved Sir William, and therefore consented to all his
requests; but you are a stranger, and must not take these liberties:
therefore, my advice is, that you depart to-morrow at break of day, or
you will be plundered by the young warriors, and it will not be in our
power to redress you.”
As I have mentioned a council, I shall describe the form of a house
erected for that purpose near Fort Pitt.
The building is long, with two fires in it at a proper distance from
each other, without any chimney or partition: the entry into the house
is by two doors, one at each end: over the door the figure of a turtle
was drawn, which is the ensign of the particular tribe: on each doorpost
was cut out the face of an old man, an emblem of that gravity and wisdom
that every senator ought to be possessed of. On each side, the whole
length of the house within, is a platform, or bed, five feet wide,
raised above the floor one foot and a half, made of broad pieces of wood
split, which serves equally for a bed to sleep on, and a place to sit
down. It is covered with a handsome mat made of rushes, and at the upper
end of the building the king, or great chief sat.
{174} To return from this digression,—We baled up our goods, and
proceeded to Fort Oswego, which I attempted to pass, but was prevented
by a centinel, who informed me that no batteau with goods could pass
without the commanding officer’s permission. I told him I was not an
American, and would wait on him to know if he had issued such orders. I
travelled in my Indian dress, and left my men at the landing, about a
mile and a half from the garrison. I paid my respects to him, and
acquainted him with my situation: he told me he should be very happy to
oblige me, but that it was impossible to pass the fort without proper
credentials; and as I had them not, he desired me to return to the
United States, to prevent my goods being seized. Notwithstanding this
friendly advice, I was determined to run the risk, and, to my extreme
mortification, they all were seized by the customhouse officers, by them
deposited in the king’s warehouse, and afterwards condemned.
In this distressed situation, and very ill in health, I went down in a
king’s boat to Cataraqui, where I arrived on the 8th of November, and
took up my abode at Mr. Howell’s tavern. My indisposition increasing, I
was obliged to keep to my blankets, and had only one faithful squaw to
attend me. In this miserable state I lay some time, expecting every hour
to change my climate, though determined to use every endeavour to effect
a recovery. At this interesting period my correspondent arrived from
England, and notwithstanding the losses he had sustained by my
imprudence, performed the part of a good Samaritan, pouring oil and wine
into my wounds; and finding my disorder required medical assistance,
desired a surgeon to attend me, and I was soon sufficiently recovered to
pursue my journey to La Chine, where I remained some months in preparing
the goods which he brought from England {175} for a Northwest journey
among the Indians, intending to go next spring to Michillimakinac; _mais
la mauvaise fortune qui nous poursuivit toûjours_, frustrated all our
schemes, and obliged us to leave La Chine on the 26th of May, 1786, from
whence we proceeded in a large Schenectady boat[114] to Oswegatche,
where we stopped a few hours, and landed at a place called Toniata
Creek, where I determined to apply for five hundred acres of land as a
loyalist settler;[115] which being granted me by government, I
immediately felled timber to build a house for the accommodation of
Indians, in hopes of deriving considerable advantages by barter.
In a few days the Indians came to trade with us, which gave us
encouragement, and at the same time flattered us with the pleasing ideas
of succeeding in commerce: but some affairs requiring my friend’s
attendance at Montreal, trade suffered a temporary suspense, and at his
return he told me that we must leave our quarters, for he was
apprehensive of a seizure for an English debt.
In this cruel dilemma, flight was our only security, and we embarked all
our goods on board a large batteau, and proceeded to Pimitiscotyan
landing upon Lake Ontario, where we entered a creek, and found
accommodation at a trader’s house. The next morning we prepared a house
for trade, and for some days went on successfully; but our happiness was
of short duration, for an officer pursued us, and took possession of all
the effects he could find, even to the tent which sheltered us from the
weather, and carried them down to Montreal, where they were sold for
less than one fourth part of their original cost and charges.—Thus
circumstanced, without any property to trade with, we came down {176} to
the Bay of Kenty, and resided there ten months among the loyalist
settlers, whose hospitality tended to soften the rigour of distress, and
alleviate my sorrows. Early in spring, 1786, we crossed over to Carlton
Island, and from thence to Fort Oswego, intending to go into the United
States by that post; but not having any pass, we were not allowed to
pursue our journey. In this mortifying situation I advised my friend to
adopt another plan, and procured a conveyance to Salmon Creek, about
twenty miles from the Fort. Here we rested one day, and with five pounds
of pork, and two loaves of bread, we set off on foot, escorted by a
squaw, expecting to reach Fort Stanwix in about four days; but the old
path was entirely obliterated, and we were obliged to return in the
evening to the creek, disappointed in the attempt. Unwilling to make
another effort, we agreed to return to Fort Oswego, and though the
distance was not more than twenty miles, we were six days before we
reached the garrison.
In this expedition my friend suffered great hardships, not being
accustomed to sleep in the woods; and having also a knapsack with about
thirty pounds weight to carry, grieved him exceedingly: the shortness of
provisions increased the distress, for it cannot be supposed that five
pounds of pork, and two loaves of bread, would last three persons any
length of time.
Previous to our journey’s end, we were twelve hours without any
sustenance, except wild onions; but fortunately we found on the sand
about one hundred and forty birds eggs, which we boiled, and eagerly
devoured, notwithstanding the greatest part had young birds in them,
with small down on their bodies.
{177} On our arrival at the fort, the commanding officer rallied us on
our attempt; and taking my friend aside, advised him either to return to
Montreal, or go up to Niagara, as he was sure he was not equal to the
fatigue of an Indian life. He followed the officer’s advice, and left me
at the fort, which I soon afterwards quitted, and went down to Montreal;
from thence I got a conveyance to Quebec; and being greatly distressed,
applied to Lord Dorchester for relief, who generously directed his aid
de camp to accompany me to Lieut. General Hope,[116] and strongly
recommended me to his notice, to be employed in an Indian capacity.
Being in some measure relieved, and supplied with a few dollars and
other necessaries, I was sent up to Cataraqui.
I left Quebec, and arrived at Montreal on the 14th of July: the next day
I pursued my journey on foot, but seeing two Indians of my acquaintance
in a canoe, and having some money in my pocket to buy rum, I hired them
to convey me to Cataraqui, and in our way we killed plenty of game.
On the 19th of August I delivered my credentials to the proper officer,
but he could not render me any service; however, he recommended me, by
letter, to his friend at Carlton Island, where Sir John Johnson[117] was
waiting for a vessel to convey him to Niagara, to hold a council with
the Indians: fortunately I procured an interview with him, and
communicating to him my situation, he ordered me to be in readiness to
assist as interpreter at his return. On the 18th of September, Sir John
Johnson met us at the head of the bay of Kenty; the instant the Indians
heard of his arrival, they saluted him with a discharge of small arms,
and having received some rum, they danced and sung all night {178} their
war songs; one of them I particularly noticed, which was to the
following effect:—
“At last our good father is arrived, he has broken the small branches,
and cleared his way to meet us. He has given us presents in abundance,
and only demands this large bed (meaning a considerable tract of land
which was described on a map).”
At twelve o’clock the next day a council was held, and Sir John laid his
map before them, desiring a tract of land from Toronto to Lake Huron.
This the Indians agreed to grant him, and the deed of gift being shewn
them, it was signed by the chiefs’ affixing the emblem, or figure of
their respective totams, as their signatures.
Sir John Johnson then left them, and embarked for Cataraqui, the capital
of the loyalist settlements.
Previous to his departure, I made him more fully acquainted with my
distressed situation and procured from him a temporary supply, which
enabled me to go down to the third Township in the Bay of Kenty,[118]
where I stayed with my loyalist friends till the spring of 1787; during
which time I had frequent opportunities of making observations on the
flourishing state of the new settlements.
The settlements of loyalists in Canada, bid fair to be a valuable
acquisition to Great Britain; and in case of a war with the United
States, will be able to furnish not only some thousands of veteran
troops, but a rising generation of a hardy race of men, whose principles
during {179} the last war stimulated them to every exertion, even at the
expence of their property, families, and friends, in support of the
cause they so warmly espoused. There was, however, when I resided in the
country, one cause of complaint, which, though it may not immediately
affect the welfare and prosperity of the present inhabitants, or prevent
an encrease of population, in proportion to the unlocated lands, is big
with impending danger, and which, for the satisfaction of the public, I
shall endeavour to explain.
All the land from Point au Baudet (the beginning of the loyalist
settlements on the River St. Laurence), to the head of the bay of Kenty,
which at this period I am informed, contains at least ten thousand
souls, is said to be liable to the old feudal system of the French
seigneuries; the lords of which claim title to receive some rent, or
exercise some paramount right, which, though it may be at present very
insignificant, and which perhaps may never be insisted on, renders every
man dependent on the lord of the manor, and, in process of time, as land
becomes more valuable, the raising these rents, or the exercise of these
rights, may occasion frequent disputes: I think therefore, with
submission to our government, that as many hundreds of Americans are now
settled there, and doubtless many more may occasionally migrate from the
United States, either from being disgusted with the polity of the
country, or from an idea of reaping greater benefits as subjects of
Great Britain, it behoves us to remove every obstacle of subserviency,
and either by purchase, or any other mode Administration shall think fit
to adopt, render all the lands in Canada, granted to loyalist subjects,
or others who have, or may voluntarily take the oaths of allegiance, as
free as those in Nova Scotia.[119]
{180} Men who have been engaged in their country’s cause from the best
of principles, should have every possible indulgence; and in proportion
as they have been deprived of comforts by the desolation of war, they
should be recompensed without any partial restrictions, and the
remainder of their days rendered as happy as the government they live
under can make them.