“Flaming piles, where'er he turned,Cast a grim and dreadful light;Like funereal lamps they burnedIn the sepulchre of night.”MONTGOMERY.
“Flaming piles, where'er he turned,Cast a grim and dreadful light;Like funereal lamps they burnedIn the sepulchre of night.”MONTGOMERY.
Some time had now elapsed since the exposition at the Haunted Cavern, and the disciples of Elkswatawa were still zealously engaged in disseminating his doctrines far and wide. Many converts were made, although a warm opposition had been organized, by some of the chiefs of the neighbouring tribes, who did not hesitate to denounce him as an impostor,—to declare that his prophecies would prove false,—and who exerted all their influence to destroy the ascendency which he was fast attaining.
That Elkswatawa, who pretended to hold intercourse with the Great Spirit, and only do his bidding, should in so short a time acquire a more than ordinary ascendency over uncultivated minds, is not much to be wondered at, when we reflect upon the peculiar situation of the persons upon whom he operated. When we reflect that superstition was with them a part of their education, and that they were suffering under wrongs both real and imaginary, which created much excitement, and rendered them eager for any change, however wild, which promised to better their condition. When, also, we advert to the fact that his doctrines at first were propagated with much gentleness, and required the performance of duties which all were satisfied would conduce to their general good, and which, several years after their first propagation, had wrought so remarkable a change, as to create wonder and astonishment both among the red men and white. By Elkswatawa alone were the habits and manners of the Indians entirely changed, and good order and sobriety made to prevail where but a few years before, disorder, riots, and drunkenness were an every day occurrence. This fact alone, that he, chiefly by his own exertions, had established a new organization of society, and that upon principles of morality in direct opposition to long established customs, is a proof of the vast power he was enabled to wield. And the conception of the plan by the brothers which was to give them so great a mastery over all the wandering tribes;—their commencing with the propagation of doctrines to which no one could object, and the deep policy which enabled them to conceal their designs for so long a time, evince much wisdom and profound sagacity.
Having gained an ascendency by mild measures, it was now necessary that he should move a step farther, in order to develope more fully his plans, and increase the influence he had already obtained. A radical change as we have already observed, had been introduced among the Indians, tending to better their condition; and so gentle had been the means, and so unobjectionable the doctrines taught, that the suspicions of the whites had not as yet been aroused. It is true, that the traders, who were in the habit of selling spirit to the Indians, and thereby amassing large sums of money, had often made complaints, and stated that the intentions of the Prophet were hostile; but his doctrines conflicted directly with their interests, and consequently, their communications were disregarded. Moreover, up to this time, no single act had been committed, calculated to create the least suspicion; so far from it, the Prophet, on account of the favourable changes he had introduced, had won the regard of most of the whites along the frontier, and was looked upon by them in the most favourable light. It would have been well for him and better still for the red men, had he stopped here. But this would not have been in accordance with the plan which he had formed with his brother, and which they had prosecuted with so much untiring zeal and perseverance. So that Elkswatawa now, in order to ascertain the amount of his influence, began in the name of the Great Spirit to require sacrifices on the part of his followers.
The first edict he issued, simply required that the fire in an Indian lodge should never be permitted to go out under penalty of the declared displeasure of the Great Spirit. Secondly, he ordered that no Indian should suffer a dog to live, together with many other things, too tedious to mention. To these which I have specified, ridiculous as it may seem, it is stated that the most implicit obedience was paid by all who ranked themselves as his followers. These sacrifices were, however, of different kinds, and in themselves, but of little moment, and were required merely that he might see whether or not obedience would be paid to his orders.
This having been done, other changes were daily introduced, all tending to increase the influence which he already wielded. Latterly he had begun to dwell more on the necessity of a perfect union among the tribes; indeed, it was now chiefly the burden of his song, and at his request was urged with much zeal by all his agents, although they themselves were ignorant of his ultimate intentions. Having now for some time endeavoured to obtain a mastery over all the tribes, and finding that the chief obstacle to the success of his plans was to be found in the opposition of some neighbouring chiefs, he determined at once to consult his brother as to the propriety of getting rid of them; and with this view sought him immediately upon his return from a wandering expedition.
“Thy moccasins are worn with travel, brother,” said Elkswatawa, “thy path has led thee to far tribes; what say they of the Shawanee Prophet?”
“I bring great joy,” said Tecumseh, “I have poured out words like a rushing river, and the hearts of the red men are bleeding. I have preached to them peace, but they dream of war; and were Tecumseh to say, ‘come on,’ they would follow, though they know not whither.”
“My heart is glad,” said Elkswatawa. “But some of the red men grieve me, they have placed logs in our path. We must remove them.”
“How?—what has happened?”—said Tecumseh.
“The chiefs of the Delawares and Wyandots have said,” replied Elkswatawa, “that the words of the Prophet have no truth in them; that he deceives the red men, and cannot do what he promises.”
“Ha!” said Tecumseh, “I warned you of this. You have placed the Shawanees above the Delawares and Wyandots. It was wrong. But the Prophet has spoken. His words must always seem straight, they must never be changed.”
“No, brother; and he who says the Prophet speaks false, must die, or the work we have begun will never be finished.”
“It would be well:—if they lie in our path, they must be taken away. But how can this be?—they have friends, and are powerful.”
“I have sworn in my heart, they shall die,” said Elkswatawa, “I have the means. Knowest thou the virtue of witchcraft?” His sides shook with a low chuckling laugh, and he continued, “Our enemies are witches, let them die as such, the Great Spirit orders it.”
“Witchcraft among the red men is like a large fire,” said Tecumseh, “when once you kindle it; but how will you start it?”
“There are many red men,” replied Elkswatawa, “who say, Elkswatawa is the true Prophet. Wherever I go, they follow. Whatever I order, they do;—so far, good. When I preach again, I will attribute the misfortune of the red men to witches or evil spirits, and the Great Spirit shall order the red men to remove them from among them. At first, evil spirits shall enter the bodies of those whom nobody cares for; they shall die, and the Prophet will say the Great Spirit is glad. Then they shall enter the bodies of those whom many hate, they shall die, and the Great Spirit shall say he is pleased. Then will I pray and be absent many nights, and the Great Spirit shall say to me that the chiefs, our enemies, are witches. I will tell it to the red men; they are excited, and once having tasted blood, will readily believe. I will attribute to them the loss of our lands, I will show the working of the evil spirit in all their actions. I will call them the friends of the white men and show their names to the treaties. Will not this do, Tecumseh?”—
“Thy wits are sharp,” replied Tecumseh. “But, brother, thou speakest of the stake, as you would order a fire for a morning meal. I would have your heart sorry at what you propose. The red men, not white, are those whose deaths you seek; remember, we have often given them our hands, we have smoked in their wigwams, and we have hunted the deer and buffalo with them far out on the prairies. If our plans require it, let your heart be sad.”
“Ha! brother,” cried the Prophet, “art thou white livered? Dost thou talk of freeing thy country, when like a woman, thou dost sicken at thought of the stake? If thou canst not open the veins of a sleeping child, and lap its blood like a thirsty dog, I pray thee leave me; I will kindle the torch of war, and lead our warriors on, until not a tomahawk is left, which is not rusted red with the blood of the whites.”
“And thou dost call me white livered, Elkswatawa,” said Tecumseh, his frame dilating, and his eyes glowing with indignation, “thou hast said so;—now did not the same current flow in our veins, and were we not travelling the same path to the same place, and to reach it requires that we should travel as friends, my tomahawk should drink thy blood, base slanderer as thou art. What! because when the sky is clear, I cannot dabble in the blood of the aged, nor derive pleasure from the scalping of children, thou shouldst brand me as a coward—thou! Elkswatawa! Thou art my brother, I must stop,—yet recollect this, when the battle rages, if thou, Elkswatawa, wilt follow Tecumseh in the fight, thy name shall be associated in future years with all that is noble and daring in Indian warfare.” And saying this he began to walk hurriedly to and fro.
While Tecumseh was delivering the above, the Prophet stood cowering beneath his fierce glance, and appalled by the storm of passion he had raised; at length he answered:
“Thy anger is strong, Tecumseh; it is a mighty wind, but Elkswatawa is a blasted tree; the wind passes by, and harms him not. Elkswatawa did not wish to touch the heart of his brother. When his brother is angry, he wants it to be with the pale faces and not with him. We have started upon a journey, and we have travelled a long way. We now find our path stopped up. Shall we turn back, or shall we clear it out, and go on? Elkswatawa says go on, clear it out; burn the red men who stop it up, and our path will then be open to our journey's end. Let us do this, brother, and then when they speak of the Prophet, they shall fear and tremble, and when he orders they will obey.”
“Then be it so,” said Tecumseh, “I like it not, but, since our plans require it, let it be done.”
“Tecumseh is dark to his brother, he cannot see through him. He wishes to make the red men one people, and yet his heart is sorry, when a few must be burned for the good of the many. Tecumseh's heart does not pant for the blood of an enemy. Elkswatawa's heart is glad when an enemy dies, be he white or red. He would drink up his blood as the summer earth does the rain. Tecumseh likes not human blood, and the stake is dreadful in his eyes.”
“Thou sayest the shedding of human blood is painful to me; thou knowest me not, Elkswatawa; let it flow when the battle rages, and let its source be the bleeding bodies of the white men. It might then rush along like a mountain torrent gurgling and leaping over its rocky bed, and in it I could bathe, or could stretch myself along its brink, and sleep by its murmuring sound. But enough; let us each to his post, and do his duty, you to practice witchcraft, and I to wander and preach to the red men;”—then turning off, he left the Prophet to his own meditations.
But a short time had elapsed since the above conference, when witchcraft became a subject of general discussion among the red men, and the Prophet having detailed his plans and wishes to some of his immediate converts and followers, was soon after favoured with a revelation of the will of the Great Spirit, which pointed out the evil effects of witches, and attributed to them all the misfortunes of the red men. This revelation was immediately detailed to his assembled followers, who lost no time in seeking for the supposed witches, the authors of all their misfortunes. The first act in the drama, consisted in the execution of several persons of little note. By some of his emissaries a charge of witchcraft was brought against several old women who were known to have an undue quantity of roots in their wigwams, and against whom a suspicion of witchcraft had before been hinted. Witnesses were ready to prove all that was required, the stakes were prepared, and they suffered death protesting before Heaven their innocence, to the last moment. These trials, which were mere mockeries, for the victims were always doomed to death when they were marked out, generally took place in the presence of large crowds of assembled spectators, served to create excitement, and at the same time whet the native ferocity of the savages. These exhibitions were followed by continual preachings, and revelations of the Great Spirit, through the Prophet, in which he was pleased to express his satisfaction at the executions which had already taken place.
The state of ferment and excitement had now arrived at the highest pitch, and the red men having tasted of blood, like blood hounds thirsted for more. Other persons of little note who were obnoxious to the Prophet on account of having derided his doctrines, or to his followers on account of personal differences, soon experienced the same fate. Stakes were prepared in many of the neighbouring tribes, and the awful and deadly denunciations of the Prophet against all who were even supposed to be touched with witchcraft, gave to his followers unlimited power over all whom they chose to accuse. Witnesses to prove whatever the Prophet wished, were at his call, and in the executions which had as yet taken place, it had so happened, that all had been satisfied with the proof which had been adduced. The possession of crooked pins, rusted nails, or roots were always fatal to the possessor, and no difficulty was found in clandestinely placing them about the persons of the accused. This is all literally true, and the few who may be sceptical on the subject, I would refer to a history of scenes somewhat similar, in New-England, where the actors were civilized and enlightened. Here the actors were entirely uneducated, addicted to superstition, and consequently formed of materials more fit to be operated on.
The Prophet and his band were still going on with their work of destruction, many victims, although none of them were chiefs, had already suffered, and still the Great Spirit, through the Prophet, enjoined them to prosecute the work they had begun, until no evil spirit should lurk among the red men, and that then they would have future days of untold happiness. He had now operated upon the band who were with him, until a wish was law, and his emissaries had also acquired much influence among the neighbouring tribes; when at the close of an evening during the scenes we have described, he was observed to retire alone into the forest at a distance from his camp, where apparently in great trouble, he passed the night in prayer, and in howling songs of vengeance; but against whom, no one knew, for they dared not intrude upon the secrecy of his devotions. At the camp, his followers were in the highest possible state of excitement, for they knew that some matter of great interest occupied the Prophet, although what it was, no one could tell, nor could they know until he should be pleased to reveal to them the source of his sufferings. All believed that he was holding communion with the Great Spirit, and waited with anxious solicitude the coming of morn, when they believed that he would reveal to them the nature of the intercourse he had held, together with the wishes of the Great Spirit. The entire night was one of anxiety and care, dark and undefined visions troubled the red men, serving in a great measure to banish sleep, and if for a moment some one, overpowered by fatigue, sank to rest, he was startled by the restless howling of the Prophet, and arose more feverish and excited than when he lay down.
But morning came, the voice of the Prophet was silent, and yet he appeared not. The sun rose, and a lovelier sun never shed his lustre over the wild woods—the birds sung praises to the God of day from the neighbouring tree tops, and the dew was fast disappearing, when the Prophet was seen with hurried steps striding along towards his encampment. A wild shout burst forth, and many of his band ran eagerly forward to meet him, and conducted him to his tent. His features were thin and haggard, and his appearance was that of much suffering; but he refused to take any rest or refreshment, and having called together his followers, the first words that fell from his lips were, “Teteboxti, Billy Patterson, and Leather-lips must die!” A short but deep silence followed, and a cloud passed over the features of the red men, for the two first mentioned were chiefs of the Delawares; the latter a chief of the Wyandots, and all were persons high in favor among their respective tribes. They had always supported unexceptionable characters, and each possessed the influence which always attaches to a long and well-spent life. The Prophet continued: “The evil spirit dwells in them, their knives are sharp, and they would draw them against their brothers. They are the friends of the white men,—they have sold our lands to the pale faces—see their names to the treaties—and they are now trying to take from us the few hunting grounds we have. Should they live, the red men will have no homes to rest in. I prayed last night, as you know, to the Great Spirit, and begged him to say to his Prophet what should be good for his red children, and a voice cried, saying ‘let no witch live.’ And I slept, and had a vision, and in it I saw Teteboxti, Billy Patterson and Leather-lips gathering herbs, both deadly and poisonous, and on their persons they had many crooked pins, and ugly nails, with which they were about to exercise their infernal rights to the great injury of the red men. They are witches, prepare the stakes and let them suffer.”
The Prophet had no sooner finished speaking, than there burst forth a wild and savage yell, with cries of “lead us on, lead us on!” and placing himself at the head of his gang, they all ran away howling in search of the doomed. Like an unkennelled pack, fresh for the chase they coursed away through the woods, bending their way to the Delaware tribe—scouring the country for those they sought, and spreading terror and desolation, wherever they swept along.
Several days passed, and it was evening when the Prophet was seen in the Delaware country, seated on a small grass plat, which had been swept and prepared for some purpose and surrounded by many Indians, some of whom were Delawares. They were all more grave and taciturn than usual; and upon examining more minutely into the preparations which had been made for the assembled crowd, their silence was easily accounted for. Hard by them, and at a distance of about twenty feet from each other might be seen two freshly cut poles which had been trimmed, and inserted deep into the earth. Around them for several feet, the ground had been swept, and over them were thrown several little bunches of twisted mulberry strings. A quantity of light wood and dried sticks had been gathered, and lay near at hand, while also at a short distance, smoked a small fire, which seemed to have been kept alive merely to answer the purposes of a match.
It was now near the close of evening, when, afar off, was heard a confused noise, which seemed to approach and gradually increase, until one could identify it, as an Indian hymn of joy, proceeding from a mixed multitude of persons, hurrying on to the present encampment of the Prophet. In the rear of the approaching band, were collected a number of boys and women, with long switches, who seemed to be urging something forward. It was Teteboxti and Billy Patterson, pinioned, whom they were forcing along to the Prophet's camp. Having arrived, there burst forth a simultaneous shout of savage joy, and then for a time was wild revelry and mirth, and confusion and disorder, and all cast taunts and reproaches upon the accused.
The Prophet afterward having formed a ring, called them to order, and in the centre stood those who were already doomed to death. Then came on the mockery of a trial;—it lasted for a moment;—it was over, and the victims were ordered to the stake. Among some of the red men there now seemed a little wavering of purpose, and but for the excitement under which they were labouring, they must have relented, when they saw dragged to the stake two of their own citizens, worn with years, and covered with honours. Teteboxti had ever supported the most exemplary life; he was even famed for his wisdom and his many virtues, and the breath of suspicion had never as yet been blown against him. In the language of one who described the scenes of that day, “his head had been bleached by more than eighty winters,” and he now stood at the stake, trembling with age, and leaning on his staff for support, while they prepared to fasten the strings around him. Compassion now for a moment appeared to gleam forth, for the Prophet advancing to Teteboxti, told him if he would deliver up his medicine bag, and confess himself a witch, his life should be spared. The strength of the old man's mind had departed, and age had imbued him with the weakness of a child. He consented, and designated a spot where he said his medicine bag was concealed. He was released, and the crowd led him to the place he had mentioned;—yet his little bag, which in the eyes of the Indians, was all powerful, for it was filled, as they supposed, with roots and crooked pins, and such other substances as were necessary for a witch to work his incantations with, was no where to be found. The old man was frightened, and gasped for breath, and named another place. They led him there, and searched, yet nothing could they find. He still named another place, and begged them to lead him thither, but it was apparent that procrastination was his only object, and they dragged him away to the stake, with tears flowing in a stream down his face as they urged him along. He was bound, and the fire kindled,—a light current of air which swept along, fanned the fire into a flame, and at the same time parting the white hair of Teteboxti, caused it to float off in the wind. At this moment, a young warrior, who was near, moved by compassion, sank his tomahawk into his head:—he fell, quivering upon the ground, and as the yet warm reeking weapon was returned to its sheath, a shudder passed over the features of Elkswatawa.
While this was acting, Billy Patterson remained pinioned to a stake, a silent spectator, at the distance of only a few feet. So calm and unmoved was he, that no one would have supposed him interested in the events which were occurring. But now the crowd gathered around him, and the Prophet stepping forth, made the same propositions to him which he had made to Teteboxti. Many begged him to accept them, and give up his medicine bag;—his life had been irreproachable and useful, and they wished it spared. He had served his apprenticeship as a gunsmith among the whites, where also he had imbibed the doctrines of Christianity, and to the Prophet's proposition, he replied:—“I am a Christian, and have no connexion with the devil;—you have intimidated one poor old man, but you cannot frighten me,—proceed, and you shall see how a Christian and a warrior can die.”
His speech irritated the crowd:—they abused him as a witch, and drawing nearer to him, sat fire to the pile. The fire, at first, burnt slowly, but soon after increasing, it rolled upwards, in a sheet of dense red flame. You might now hear his skin crack and parch, and yet he uttered no murmur or complaint; but, opening a small hymn book, began to sing and pray, with a loud voice. The Indians who surrounded him, danced about with savage glee,—made jocose speeches when his muscles twitched, from the action of the fire, and taunted and reviled him. Yet he quailed not, but sung and prayed, as though he were freed from all bodily suffering. The fire still increased, and a judgment from heaven seemed suddenly to have passed over his persecutors, so silent at once became that noisy rabble. Not a sound was now heard, but the cracking of the fire, or the dropping of blood, as trickling from some fresh wound, it fell upon a burning coal, causing a frying or hissing sound. All gazed in wonder, and each one sorrowed for the part he had borne, when he beheld the firmness of the dying man. His chest still heaved, but he triumphed over nature, for no sound indicated the anguish he suffered. A few moments more elapsed and a skeleton lay doubled up at the foot of the stake, the bones of the right hand, clutching with a strong gripe, a small black smoking substance,—it was the hymn book; and the spirit of Billy Patterson had returned to its God.
For some few moments there was silence, and contrition seemed to have entered their hearts. But the Prophet discovering it, called them together and harangued them. He finished speaking, contrition disappeared, and all were joyous; not only joyous, but happy, and inclined to mirth and festivity. Feasting and dancing were at once resorted to, and they indulged in all the unrestrained freedom of wild revelry:—surrounding alternately the body of Teteboxti, and the skeleton of Billy Patterson, they performed various dances, and sung hymns of joy, and ever and anon they laughed until their sides shook, at the different positions in which they placed the body and the skeleton, at one moment twining its arms around the body, at another causing it to sit erect at a short distance, and look as if it was gazing on the body of Teteboxti from sightless sockets.
The night was now wearing away, the middle watch was at hand, and the Prophet prepared to close the scene. His followers were ripe for any act, so he called them together, and harked them on in pursuit of Leather-lips. The camp was soon cleared, their baggage slung, and with the Prophet all were off in pursuit, leaving their present camp unoccupied save by the unburied body of Teteboxti, which remained sitting in an upright position, and the skeleton of Billy Patterson, which was left hanging upon the fork of a tree.
It was early the next morning when the crowd was seen coursing their way through a small field, to a cabin where resided Leather-lips, whose Indian appellation was Shateyaronrah. He was surrounded by his family, and several friends were also casually present, among whom were two white men. Leather-lips was at this time aged sixty-three, and had always supported the most exemplary life. He had often mingled in battle, and had won for himself the reputation of a brave man. But unfortunately for himself his signature was attached to the famous treaty of Greenville, and he had ever manifested a partiality for the Americans as opposed to the English. Notwithstanding this, he was conspicuous among the red men far and wide, and wielded great influence.
When Elkswatawa assumed to himself the character of a Prophet, and announced that he was commissioned by the Most High to preach the word to the red men, to change their condition, increase their possessions, and make them sole masters of the land, Leather-lips denounced him as an impostor, and urged the Indians not to place full credence in his promises. He had been silently watching the character of the Prophet while he was struggling for power, and spared no endeavour to thwart his views. He was acquainted with the executions which had already taken place on account of pretended witchcraft, and when he heard the shouts of the band which was hurrying on, and saw their numbers, he knew but too well, the pack which was unkennelled against him. But hark! they are rushing on, and first among the foremost, comes his brother. They arrive, they seize, and prepare to bind him.
“No,” cries he, “let me be free, I know your purpose, and am ready to obey.”
“Haste then;” cried Elkswatawa, “witch, we thirst for blood.”
“Witch!” repeated Leather-lips, and he looked him in the face, and entered his wigwam. Then returning to the door he addressed the crowd, and begged them to spare his life. His entreaty was answered with scorn, and they cried for blood. All hope was now gone, and he re-entered his wigwam, to prepare for his fate, while his executioners commenced digging his grave at the sill of his door. Having dressed himself in his best war clothes, and partaken of a hasty meal of venison, he came out from his cabin calm and dignified, and knelt upon the brink of his grave. His executioners then stepped forward, one of whom was his own brother, and kneeling before him, prayed to the Great Spirit in his behalf. The Indians were all silent, and the prayers being over, they withdrew to a short distance, and seated themselves on the ground. Leather-lips then bent over his grave, rested his face upon his hands and his hands upon his knees. The executioners stepped forward, performed their duty, and the body of Leather-lips rolled into its grave. The Indians then huddled around it, and Elkswatawa calling the attention of the two whites, pointed to the body. “See,” said he, as the chest still heaved, “see how hard he dies; he is a witch, he is a witch.” All were satisfied, and they shovelled the fresh earth over the dying Leather-lips, and left to his last sleep, one who, an hour before, was cultivating his little field.
NOTEA.—Page 25.
“Roof of the boat.” This seems an awkward expression, yet there is no other word which will convey the idea. The flat boats of the west are in shape parallelograms; they have but a single story, and closely boarded over, form a flat roof upon which in good weather emigrants lounge or walk about for exercise.
NOTEB.—Page 56.
I have often been amused when travelling through the west, at the inquiries which would be made upon finding out that I was a Virginian, by persons who had emigrated years before from the same state. It seemed to them a matter of course that I must know their relations; and I have been asked after Aunt Polly, Jenny, and other members of a family of which I knew no more than if they lived in the moon. This was frequently the case in Arkansas, but lest it should seem to show a degree of ignorance unequalled by any other people, and perhaps afford nuts to crack for foreigners, I must tell an anecdote by way of set off. In the winter of '34, I started in a coach well filled from Manchester for Nottingham; the passengers were all genteel, well dressed men, and one seemed affable and talkative above his companions; he gave me much local information, and discovering that I was an American from some remark I made, the following dialogue ensued.
“You are not an American?” said he.
“Indeed I am.”
“Well, you talk just as we do.”
I told him, I thought nothing was more natural, inasmuch as we were descended from the English.
“Well, now will you tell me one thing I have long wanted to know?” continued the stranger.
“Certainly, if it be proper, and I can;”—said I.
“Well, do the blacks in your country run wild?”
I could not avoid laughing, and after composing myself, explained to him their situation, and the nature of the services performed by them; he expressed himself satisfied on that point, and after a silence of a few minutes, observed, “I have a friend in America, I reckon you have seen him.”
I told him I really did not know, and asked him to what part he had gone; he said he could'nt tell, but added “I can tell you, how you may know him if ever you should see him?”
“How?” said I.
“He limps a little,” said he, “and his right foot cocks up.”
“Very well,” said I, “when I meet with him, I will give him your respects.” “And” added the stranger, “I will tell you another way you may know him, he is mighty fond of swapping horses.” I could now hold in no longer, but laughed outright, and told him that the United States were many times as large as England. He believed I was quizzing him, and turned away in disgust. And these were the directions given by a well dressed Englishman, to enable me to find his friend in America. Happily for the confirmation of the above anecdote, there now lives in this state, a highly respectable and esteemed gentleman who heard the whole of it.
NOTEC.—Page 191.
Netnokwa, who, as we have stated, was at one time regarded as chief of the Ottawas, married an Ojibbeway and emigrated with him to the Red River country. He soon after their removal falling in battle, she continued to reside with his relatives.
See Tanner's narrative.
END OF VOL. I.
“A noble race! but they are gone,With their old forests wide and deep,And we have built our homes uponFields where their generations sleep.”BRYANT.
“A noble race! but they are gone,With their old forests wide and deep,And we have built our homes uponFields where their generations sleep.”BRYANT.
IN TWO VOLUMES.VOL. II.
NEW-YORK:PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS,NO. 82 CLIFF STREET.
1836.
[Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1836, by HARPER& BROTHERS, in the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York.]
WILLIAMH. COLYER,Printer,No. 104 Beekman-street.
OR,
“His was the strength the weak that sways,The glance the servile herd obeys,The brow of majesty, where thoughtAnd care their deepest lines had wrought.”YAMOYDEN.
“His was the strength the weak that sways,The glance the servile herd obeys,The brow of majesty, where thoughtAnd care their deepest lines had wrought.”YAMOYDEN.
The circumstances which we have detailed in the last chapter, sad as they may be, are culled unvarnished from the page of history; and were that wanting, I believe there are witnesses living who can attest their truth. They have been brought forward to prove the power of the Prophet. How great must have been his influence, when he could make a brother become the executioner of a brother, and order to the stake, certain that his orders would be executed, the most influential chiefs of his own or the neighbouring tribes, men, who had worn out the prime of their lives in fighting the battles of their country, and whose lips were then regarded as fountains of wisdom and experience. And yet this in many instances did Elkswatawa do, and so dread was the influence attached to his name, that even those who differed with him in opinion were afraid to express their sentiments; and unrestrained, he continued, by the power of witchcraft, to remove all whom he even suspected of being hostile to his plans. When we reflect that he was originally an humble individual, not even entitled to the rank of a chieftain, and that he should by the assumption of a character generally deemed of low repute, and the weakness of which he was well aware of, have pursued such a course of petty devices, trickery, and cunning as to have established for himself among the tribes so vast a power, we cannot but wonder at the design, as well as at the mind which enabled him to conceive and execute it. And yet the deep policy and prudence which he exhibited for years, in concealing from the red men as well as the white his chief object, namely, the union of all the tribes as a warlike measure, is a matter of still more surprise. But absolute as his power may seem, it was exercised only through the agency of the band which accompanied him. This generally amounted to several hundred, they were restless spirits, and many of them spoke different languages, and yet, so implicit was the obedience which they paid to Elkswatawa, that even though calm, he could at a moment's bidding, lash them into fury and set them raging like howling beasts, or when excited, by the wave of his hand, hush them into silence deep as that of the grave.
But while he was thus occupied in removing all who were hostile to him; his emissaries were at work, preaching his doctrines to distant tribes, and endeavouring to unite them all in one great bond of union. His conduct now became a subject of discussion among the whites, and many believed that his ultimate intentions were hostile, although, as yet, against them, not an unfriendly act had been committed. And there were many who regarded him as the agent of the English, and believed that in exciting the Indians, he was only acting in accordance with orders received from the Canadian posts. The burning of the Delaware chiefs, however, created so much excitement throughout the frontiers that General Harrison, Governor of Indiana Territory, within the borders of which, many of the scenes described had taken place, was induced, through a spirit of humanity, to interfere with a hope of preventing a farther sacrifice of victims through the machinations of the Prophet. And in accordance with this view, he sent a messenger to the Delawares, where most of these occurrences had taken place, with the following speech, which we insert for the purpose of making more explicit the Prophet's answer, which follows.
“My Children,
“My heart is filled with grief, and my eyes are dissolved in tears, at the news which has reached me. You have been celebrated for your wisdom above all the tribes of red people who inhabit this great island. Your fame as warriors has extended to the remotest nations; and the wisdom of your chiefs has gained for you the appellation of grand-fathers from all the neighbouring tribes. From what cause, then, does it proceed, that you have departed from the wise councils of your fathers, and covered yourselves with guilt?—My children, tread back the steps you have taken, and endeavour to regain the straight road which you have abandoned. The dark, crooked, and thorny one which you are now pursuing will certainly lead to endless wo and misery. But who is this pretended Prophet who dares to speak in the name of the Great Creator? Is he more wise or virtuous than you are yourselves, that he should be selected to convey to you the orders of your God? Demand of him some proofs at least of his being the messenger of the Deity. If God has really employed him, he has doubtless authorised him to perform some miracles, that he may be known and received as a prophet. If he is really a prophet, ask of him to cause the sun to stand still, the moon to alter its course, the rivers to cease to flow, or the dead to rise from their graves. If he does these things, you may then believe that he has been sent from God. He tells you that the Great Spirit commands you to punish with death those who deal in magic, and thatheis authorised to point them out. Wretched delusion! Is, then, the Master of life obliged to employ mortal man to punish those who offend Him? Has he not the thunder and all the powers of nature at his command? and could he not sweep away from the earth a whole nation with one motion of his arm? My children! do not believe that the good and great Creator of mankind has directed you to destroy your own flesh; and do not doubt but that, if you pursue this abominable wickedness, his vengeance will overtake and crush you.
“The above is addressed to you in the name of the ‘Seventeen Fires.’ I now speak to you from myself, as a friend who wishes nothing more sincerely than to see you prosperous and happy. Clear your eyes, I beseech you, from the mist which surrounds them. No longer be imposed upon by the acts of an impostor. Drive him from your town, and let peace and harmony once more prevail among you. Let your poor old men and women sleep in quietness, and banish from their minds the dreadful idea of being burnt alive by their own friends and countrymen. I charge you to stop your bloody career; and if you value the friendship of your great father, the President, if you wish to preserve the good opinion of the ‘Seventeen Fires,’ let me hear, by the return of the bearer, that you have determined to follow my advice.”1
1See note A.
To this speech, which served in a great measure to arrest the mad fury of Elkswatawa and his followers, the Prophet, who happened to be present at the time of its reception, delivered to the messenger who brought it in the presence of the assembled Indians, the following speech, which he requested him to write down, and hand over to Gen. Harrison. It will be seen from this that the governor had sometime previously charged the Prophet with being influenced by the English, an opinion which was current long before hostilities actually commenced. The speech of the governor which we have before given was directed to the Delawares, and the Prophet, being a Shawanee, was not called upon to answer it, but having been strongly denounced he thought proper to do so; and one cannot but be amused at the canting professions which were contained in his answer. It runs thus:
“Father,—I am very sorry that you listen to the advice of bad birds. You have impeached me with having correspondence with the British; and with calling and sending for the Indians from the most distant parts of the country, ‘to listen to a fool that speaks not the words of the Great Spirit, but the words of the devil.’ Father, those impeachments I deny, and say they are not true. I never had a word with the British, and I never sent for any Indians. They came here themselves, to listen and hear the words of the Great Spirit.
“Father,—I wish you would not listen any more to the voice of bad birds; and you may rest assured, that it is the least of our idea to make disturbance, and we will rather try to stop any such proceedings than encourage them.”
This note or speech, sent at such a time, will give some idea of the policy pursued by the Prophet; and while he strenuously denied all interference on the part of the British, it is notorious that at this very time, they were endeavouring to excite the Indians against the United States. And, at the very moment that the Prophet was sending his speech to the Governor, his emissaries were travelling far and wide for the same purpose.
While this was the state of feeling between the parties, murders were frequently committed on the Indians, and the treaty of Greenville violated, by not handing over the murderers to justice. This was the more galling, because on their part, that stipulation of the treaty had been preserved inviolate. With Elkswatawa and his followers, this disregard of the treaty, was a powerful theme. All the irritating circumstances therewith connected, were collected, and often detailed for the purpose of creating in the breasts of the Indians the most unextinguishable hatred against the whites. Yet, although these things caused much excitement, and were calculated to awaken suspicions, still the Prophet's declarations were all peaceful; no overt act of hostility could be proved against him; and as an explanation of his motives for continual preachings, and for sending far and wide his disciples, as he termed them, he stated that he wished, in imitation of the United States, to form a union of all the tribes, for their own mutual benefit and advantage. Up to the present time, Tecumseh had been playing a subordinate part, although he was the master spirit, and indeed the life and soul of the enterprise. He had kept entirely aloof from the whites, during the peace which had reigned since the treaty of Greenville, and wandering among distant tribes, had been preparing them for the great struggle in which they were destined to act.
We have already seen that he was opposed to the summary process of removing his opponents, which had been suggested by his brother, the Prophet; and now, upon the remonstrance of Gov. Harrison, and also fearing the odium which would attach to their cause, should more victims be sacrificed, and their shallow devices discovered, he began to persuade his brother to desist from his persecutions on account of witchcraft, and to declare publicly, that all the witches were exterminated, and the Great Spirit appeased; and that then they would adopt some other plan for the removing of those who were endeavouring to thwart their views. The Prophet acquiesced. A revelation from the Great Spirit was soon received, which said that all the witches were exterminated, and he satisfied with his red children; and, soon after, the two brothers were engaged heart and hand, in exciting jealousies among the various tribes, toward their respective chiefs, and in persuading them to take all authority into their own hands. This plan was pursued with success:—all the chiefs who were opposed to the Prophet were dethroned, and the affairs of their tribes managed by the warriors. Dark and midnight meetings were now continually held; multitudes were flocking from a distance to see the Prophet, and hear him preach; and so much excitement prevailed, that constant information of every proceeding was furnished to Gen. Harrison, at his request, by persons employed for that purpose.
Information from sources, somewhat vague and questionable, was now often received by the whites, indicating a hostile intention on the part of the Indians. But the Prophet's band, or those who regularly remained with him, were not sufficient in numbers to create much alarm, and for a time, no active steps were taken. The great gatherings to hear the words of the Prophet were now generally attended with petty aggressions on the lands of the whites, and so many accounts were brought in of a hostile disposition on the part of the Indians, that the Governor began to organize and discipline the militia of his territory. Circumstances had also transpired which indicated an unfriendly feeling on the part of the British, and it now became manifest that English agents had been tampering with the Indians, and endeavouring to excite them against the United States.
About this time, also, the Prophet determined to remove his head-quarters from their present position, near Fort Wayne, to the upper branches of the Wabash. To this movement, there was strong opposition, both from the red men and white, yet he succeeded. The Miamies and Delawares, who claimed the land where he purposed to locate himself, with a hope of defeating this measure, sent a deputation to the Prophet, remonstrating with him for so doing. But he refused to see them, and sent in his place his brother, Tecumseh. He met them, and gave them such a reception that the deputation returned with fear and trembling.
Elkswatawa's power was now at its height; yet he still had enemies, men who would not have hesitated to seize and assassinate him, but for the mystery which surrounded his character. Fearing for his personal safety, he had from the commencement denounced the most awful punishment against any one, who should dare to molest the “Prophet of the Most High.” And on this account, so much was he feared even by those who hated him, that his person was by all regarded as sacred. Having removed to the upper branches of the Wabash, he settled at a place which he called Tippecanoe, and began at once to build a town. He also now began to mingle warlike with religious exercises, and after preaching, it was customary for him to make his warriors to draw the bow, throw the tomahawk, or wield the war club.
Notwithstanding these preparations, he was not yet ready to strike the blow he had so long been meditating. The necessity of full preparation had been urged by Tecumseh, who was the soul of all the proceedings, and who was to give the signal and lead them on, the foremost in the fight. Although the ascendency of the Prophet was so great, yet it was chiefly in the tribes around him, that his power was felt. This was but a part of his plan. To ensure the cordial co-operation of all the distant and wandering tribes was likewise his object, and to effect this was Tecumseh now incessantly labouring.
The mingling of warlike exercises with religious duties, and the continual assembling of large crowds around the Prophet, partially disclosed his intentions, and also served to awaken the whites to a sense of their danger.
In consequence of the information which had been regularly forwarded to Washington, orders were received from the general government, in pursuance of an act of Congress previously passed, requiring the different states and territories to organize, arm, and equip their respective quotas of one hundred thousand men, and hold them in readiness to march at a moment's warning. The Prophet was apprized of these preparations, his plans were as yet unfinished, and all his energies were directed, to lull the suspicions which his conduct had created. As a first step he resolved to visit the Governor in person, and sent him a runner, with a message to that effect, also stating, that his views and intentions had been misrepresented, and soon after made his appearance, accompanied only by his own immediate followers. He was received with courtesy, and remained several days, during which, in explanation of his views, he delivered to the Governor the following speech:
“Father, it is three years since I first began with that system of religion which I now practise. The white people and some of the Indians were against me; but I had no other intention but to introduce among the Indians those good principles of religion which the white people profess. I was spoken badly of by the white people, who reproached me with misleading the Indians; but I defy them to say that I did any thing amiss.
“I heard when I settled on the Wabash that my father, the Governor, had declared that all the land between Vincennes and Fort Wayne, was the property of the ‘Seventeen Fires.’ I also heard that you wanted to know, my father, whether I was man or God.
“The Great Spirit told me to tell the Indians, that he had made them, and made the world—that he had placed them on it to do good and not evil. I told all the red skins, that the way they were in was not good, and that they ought to abandon it—that we ought to consider ourselves as one man, but we ought to live agreeable to our customs, the red people after their mode, and the white people after theirs; and that they must always follow the directions of the Great Spirit, and we must listen to him, as it was he that made us.
“Determine to listen to nothing that is bad. Do not take up the tomahawk, should it be offered by the British or the Long Knives. Do not meddle with any thing that does not belong to us, but let us mind our own business and cultivate the ground, that our women and our children may have enough to live on. I now inform you that it is our intention to live in peace with our Father and his people for ever.
“My Father, I have informed you what we mean to do, and I call the Great Spirit to witness the truth of my declaration. The religion which I have established for the last three years, has been attended to by the different tribes of Indians in this part of the world. Those Indians were once different people; they are now but one; they are all determined to practise what I have communicated to them, and that has come immediately from the Great Spirit through me.
“Brother, I speak to you as a warrior. You are one. But let us lay aside this character, and attend to the care of our children that they may live in peace and comfort. We desire that you will join us for the preservation of both red and white people. Formerly, when we lived in ignorance, we were foolish; but now, since we listen to the voice of the Great Spirit, we are happy.
“I have listened to what you have said to us. You have promised to assist us. I now request you in behalf of all the red people, to use your exertions to prevent the sale of liquor to us. We are all well pleased to hear you say that you will endeavour to promote our happiness. We give you every assurance that we will follow the dictates of the Great Spirit.
“We are all well pleased with the attentions you have shown us; also the good intentions of our Father the President.”
There was so much apparent frankness in this speech, that it won in a great measure the confidence of the Governor. The Prophet continued his visit for more than two weeks;—frequently addressed his followers, dwelling solely on the evils of war, and the bad effects of ardent spirits, and persuading them to live in peace and friendship with all mankind. The Governor was astonished at the perfect ease with which he governed his followers, and was convinced that they acted on principle, from not being able to make them drink spirit, which he tried to do by way of experiment.—Elkswatawa denied all connexion with the British, and by his manner and address, succeeded in deceiving the Governor, and even caused him to believe that his intentions had been misrepresented. He went farther,—he satisfied the Governor that the influence he had gained was beneficial to humanity, and having created the impression he desired, returned with his followers to Tippecanoe.
We have now given a sketch of the great plan of union, which was projected by the brothers, and traced the character of Elkswatawa, from his first appearance as a Prophet, to the period at which he was introduced in his temporary camp, on the prairie. His power was then as great as we have painted it, and had been obtained by the means we have stated. He was then professing peace, though doing all in his power to bring about war. And now having brought up the history of the Prophet to the period of which we are writing, we will proceed with our narrative.