HARRISON'S COUNCIL WITH TECUMSEH AT VINCENNESHARRISON'S COUNCIL WITH TECUMSEH AT VINCENNES
Instead of answering this letter, Tenskwatawa said he would send his brother, Tecumseh, to Vincennes to confer with the Governor. Early in August a fleet of eighty canoes started down the Wabash for the capital. Tecumseh, with four hundred warriors at his back, all armed and painted as if for battle, was on his way to meet in council for the first time the man who was responsible for the treaty of 1809.
The party encamped just outside of Vincennes, and on the morning appointed for the council Tecumseh appeared attended by forty warriors. He refused to meet the Governor and his officers in council on the porch of the Governor's house, saying he preferred to hold the conference under a clump of trees not far off. The Governor consented and ordered benches and chairs to be taken to the grove. When Tecumseh was asked to take a chair he replied pompously: "The sun is my father; the earth is my mother; on her bosom I will repose," and seated himself on the ground. His warriors followed his example. In his speech Tecumseh stated plainly the grievances of the Indians. He said:
"Brother, since the peace was made, you have killed some Shawnees, Winnebagoes, Delawares, and Miamis, and you have taken our land from us, and I do not see how we can remain at peace if you continue to do so.You try to force the red people to do some injury. It is you that are pushing them on to do mischief. You endeavor to make distinctions. You wish to prevent the Indians doing as we wish them—to unite, and let them consider their lands as the common property of the whole; you take tribes aside and advise them not to come into this measure; and until our plan is accomplished we do not wish to accept your invitation to go to see the President. You want by your distinctions of Indian tribes in allotting to each a particular tract of land, to make them to war with each other. You never see an Indian come and endeavor to make the white people do so. You are continually driving the red people; when, at last, you will drive them into the Great Lake, where they can neither stand nor walk.
"Brother, you ought to know what you are doing with the Indians. Perhaps it is by direction of the President to make these distinctions. It is a very bad thing and we do not like it. Since my residence at Tippecanoe we have endeavored to level all distinctions—to destroy village chiefs, by whom all mischief is done. It is they who sell our lands to the Americans. Our object is to let our affairs be transacted by warriors.
"Brother, only a few had part in the selling of this land and the goods that were given for it. The treaty was afterwards brought here, and the Weas were induced to give their consent because of their small numbers. The treaty at Fort Wayne was made through the threats of Winnemac; but in future we are preparedto punish those chiefs who may come forward to propose to sell the land. If you continue to purchase of them it will produce war among the different tribes, and, at last, I do not know what will be the consequence to the white people.
"Brother, I was glad to hear your speech. You said that if we could show that the land was sold by people that had no right to sell, you would restore it. Those that did sell it did not own it. It was me. Those tribes set up a claim, but the tribes with me will not agree to their claim. If the land is not restored to us you will see when we return to our homes how it will be settled. We shall have a great council, at which all the tribes will be present, when we shall show to those who sold that they had no right to the claim they set up; and we will see what will be done to those chiefs that did sell the land to you. I am not alone in this determination; it is the determination of all the warriors and red people that listen to me. I now wish you to listen to me. If you do not, it will appear as if you wished me to kill all the chiefs that sold you the land. I tell you so because I am authorized by all the tribes to do so. I am the head of them all; I am a warrior, and all the warriors will meet together in two or three moons from this; then I will call for those chiefs that sold you the land and shall know what to do with them. If you do not restore the land, you will have a hand in killing them."
Governor Harrison began his reply by saying that the Indian tribes were and always had been independent ofone another, and had a right to sell their own lands, without interference from others.
Tecumseh might have answered that the Seventeen Fires had already recognized that the land was the common property of the tribes by treating with ten of them in making the Greenville purchase. But instead he and his followers lost their temper and jumped to their feet in a rage, as if to attack the Governor. And the council ended in an undignified row.
Tecumseh regretted this very much. He sent an apology to Governor Harrison and requested another meeting. Another council was called and this time the Indians controlled their anger; but Tecumseh maintained till the last that the Indians would never allow the white people to take possession of the land they claimed by the treaty of 1809.
The next day Governor Harrison, accompanied only by an interpreter, courageously visited Tecumseh's encampment and had a long talk with him. Tecumseh said the Indians had no wish for war, and would gladly be at peace with the Long Knives if the Governor could persuade the President to give back the disputed land. He said he had no wish to join the British, who were not the true friends of the Indians, but were always urging them to fight against the Americans for their own advantage.
Governor Harrison said he would report to the President all that Tecumseh had said, but that he knew the President would not give up the land he had purchased.
"Well," said Tecumseh, bluntly, "as the great chief is to determine the matter, I hope the Great Spirit will put sense enough into his head to induce him to direct you to give up this land. It is true, he is so far off he will not be hurt by the war; he may sit in his town and drink his wine, while you and I will have to fight it out."
A year of unrest and anxiety followed the council at Vincennes. The United States government made an attempt to survey the new purchase, but the surveyors were driven off by the Indians.
Occasional outrages were committed on both sides. Horses were stolen. Several white men were murdered by Indians, and several Indians were murdered by white men.
In the spring of 1811, when the usual supply of salt was sent up the Wabash to be distributed among the tribes, the Indians at the Prophet's town, instead of again rejecting it, seized it all. This was done in the absence of Tecumseh, who seemed in every way to seek to avoid bringing about war.
Governor Harrison knew the treacherous nature of Indians and feared that Tecumseh's desire for peace might be feigned in order to throw him off his guard. He reasoned that it was scarcely to be expected and little to be wished that the United States should relinquish the territory for which the Indians were contending. The Indians would hardly give up the land without war. Delay only gave Tecumseh time to strengthen his band. Harrison thought it wise to force the brothers to open war or to give assurance of peace. Accordingly, he wrote them a letter or speech, in which he said:
"Brothers, this is the third year that all the white people in this country have been alarmed at your proceedings; you threaten us with war; you invite all the tribes to the north and west of you to join against us.
"Brothers, your warriors who have lately been here deny this, but I have received information from every direction; the tribes on the Mississippi have sent me word that you intended to murder me, and then to commence a war upon our people. I have also received the speech you sent to the Pottawottomies and others to join you for that purpose; but if I had no other evidence of your hostility to us your seizing the salt I lately sent up the Wabash is sufficient. Brothers, our citizens are alarmed, and my warriors are preparing themselves, not to strike you but to defend themselves, and their women and children. You shall not surprise us as you expect to do; you are about to undertake a very rash act. As a friend, I advise you to consider well of it; a little reflection may save us a great deal of trouble and prevent much mischief; it is not yet too late.
"Brothers, if you wish to satisfy us that your intentions are good, follow the advice I have given youbefore: that is, that one or both of you should visit the President of the United States and lay your grievances before him. He will treat you well, will listen to what you say, and if you can show him that you have been injured, you will receive justice. If you will follow my advice in this respect it will convince the citizens of this country and myself that you have no design to attack them. Brothers, with respect to the lands that were purchased last fall, I can enter into no negotiations with you on that subject; the affair is in the hands of the President. If you wish to go and see him, I will supply you with the means."
If either of the brothers should act upon the Governor's advice and go to Washington he would be virtually a hostage in the hands of the government, and the Indians would not dare to do the settlers any harm lest their leader should come to grief because of their misdoing.
Tecumseh sent the Governor a brief, friendly reply, in which he promised to go to Vincennes himself in a short time. Governor Harrison did not know just what to expect from the proposed visit, but he remembered Pontiac's attempt to capture Detroit by surprise and he prepared to give his guest a warlike reception if need be.
Late in July the chief arrived, attended by about three hundred Indians. A council was held which the Governor opened by recounting the injuries the white men had suffered at the hands of the Indians, and by againmaking the charge that the Indians were preparing for war. Tecumseh replied with a counter enumeration of injuries, and said again that the Indians would never give up the land in dispute, but that it was his wish and hope that the matter could be settled peaceably. He said that he was trying to build up a strong nation of red men, after the model of the Seventeen Fires, and that he was on his way to visit the southern tribes to invite them to join his league. He assured Governor Harrison that he had given the strictest orders that the northern Indians should remain at peace during his absence, and that as soon as he returned he would go to Washington to settle the land question.
TECUMSEH INCITING THE CREEKSTECUMSEH INCITING THE CREEKS
Tecumseh then hastened to the South, where he worked to good effect among the Creeks and Seminoles, persuading them to join his confederacy. It is said that where he could not persuade he threatened. One story illustrating his manner of dealing with those that resisted him is as follows: Visiting a tribe which listened coldlyto his words and seemed unwilling to take part in his plans he suddenly lost all patience. With fierce gestures and a terrible look he shouted: "You do not think what I say is true. You do not believe this is the wish of the Great Spirit. I will show you. When I reach Detroit I will stamp my foot on the earth and the earth will tremble and shake your houses down about your ears." The tale goes on to say that after due time had elapsed for Tecumseh to reach Detroit an earthquake shook down all the dwellings of the village he had left in anger. Whether this is true or not, Tecumseh certainly had wonderful influence over all tribes. Governor Harrison wrote to the Secretary of War about him: "If it were not for the vicinity of the United States, he would perhaps be the founder of an empire that would rival in glory Mexico or Peru. No difficulties deter him. For four years he has been in constant motion. You see him to-day on the Wabash, and in a short time hear of him on the shores of Lake Erie or Michigan, or on the banks of the Mississippi; and wherever he goes he makes an impression favorable to his purpose. He is now upon the last round to put a finishing stroke to his work. I hope, however, before his return that that part of the work which he considered complete will be demolished, and even its foundation rooted up."
In the meantime Tecumseh trusted Governor Harrison with child-like simplicity. It seems not to have occurred to him that the Governor would not remain inactive until he had completed his arrangements andopened the war. Indeed, there were those at Washington who also thought this was what Harrison would and ought to do; that is, keep on the defensive until the Indians made some outbreak.
This was not the feeling on the frontier, however. The frontiersmen were in no humor to sit still and wait for the Indians to scalp them at their plows or burn them in their beds. Their cry was, "On to Tippecanoe!"
This spirit was in accord with the Governor's inclination. A man of action, and bred to military life, Harrison favored prompt, vigorous measures. He believed this a favorable time for an attack on the Prophet's town. Tecumseh was well out of the way, and had left orders for the tribes to remain at peace during his absence. As many would hesitate to disobey his command, there would be no united resistance. Besides, the Prophet had been left in charge, and a victory over him would destroy the Indians' faith in his supernatural power. This faith Harrison had come to regard as the backbone of the Indian alliance. Moreover, the British were not in a position to give the Indians open assistance and they would learn from a few battles fought without their aid how little trust was to be put in British promises.
For these reasons, Harrison wrote to the War Department urging immediate action and asking for troops and authority to march against Tippecanoe. The troops were granted, but with the instruction that PresidentMadison wished peace with the Indians preserved if possible.
In August, in the year 1811, Governor Harrison sent stern "speeches" to the Indian tribes, threatening them with punishment if they did not cease their preparations for war and comply with his demands.
On September the twenty-fifth the Prophet's reply arrived at Vincennes. He gave repeated assurances that the Indians had no intention of making war on the settlers, and he promised to comply with whatever demands the Governor might make. To this message Harrison sent no answer.
The Governor was now ready for action. He had a force of about a thousand fighting men. The militia were reinforced by three hundred regulars, and one hundred and thirty mounted men, under a brave Kentuckian, J. H. Daveiss, who wanted a share in the glory of an encounter with the Indians. Later two companies of mounted riflemen were added to this force. Harrison sent a detachment of men up the river to build a fort on the new land. By this act he took formal possession of it.
He felt his hands tied by the President's instructions to avoid war with the Indians if possible, and awaited developments with impatience. He expected the Indians to oppose in some way the building of the fort—and his expectations were at length realized. One of the sentinels who kept guard while the soldiers worked on the fort was shot and severely wounded. Harrison thought this might be regarded as the opening of hostilities, and determined to march upon the Prophet's town. A letter from the War Department received at about this time left him free to carry out his plans.
It was late in October before the new fort, named Fort Harrison in honor of the Governor, was finished, and the force ready to leave. Then Harrison sent messengers to the Prophet demanding that the Indians should return stolen horses to their owners, and surrender Indians who had murdered white men. He also demanded that the Winnebagoes, Pottawottomies and Kickapoos who were at Tippecanoe should return to their tribes. Without waiting for a reply or appointing a time or place where the Prophet's answer might find him, Harrison began his march on Tippecanoe. Through the disputed land the armed forces marched; on, on, into the undisputed territory of the Indians.
Still they met with no opposition. Not an Indian was seen until November the sixth, when the troops were within eleven miles of Tippecanoe. And although many of them were seen from that time on, they could not be tempted to any greater indiscretion than the making of threatening signs in response to the provoking remarks of the interpreters. When within two miles of Tippecanoe, Harrison found himself and his army in a dangerous pass that offered the Indians amost inviting chance for an ambush. But he was not molested.
When the troops were safe in the open country once more, Harrison held a conference with his officers. All were eager to advance at once and attack the town. They held that if there was any question about the right or the necessity of an attack it should have been decided before they started; now that they had arrived at the stronghold of the Indians there was only one safe course, and that was immediate attack.
Perhaps the circumstances of the march had persuaded Harrison of the sincerity of the Indians' plan for peace, and he felt that after all the affair might be settled without bloodshed. At any rate, he was most reluctant to comply with the wishes of his aids. But at last yielding to their urgency he gave the order to advance and storm the town. Scarcely had he done so, however, before he was turned from his purpose by the arrival of messengers from the Prophet begging that the difficulties be settled without a battle. Harrison sent back word that he had no intention of making an attack unless the Prophet refused to concede to his demands. He consented to suspend hostilities for the night and give Tenskwatawa a hearing in the morning.
Greatly against the will of his officers, who had no faith in the Indians' professions of friendliness and saw that every hour of delay might be put to good use by the Prophet, Harrison encamped for the night. He seems to have had little fear of an attack, as he did not evenfortify his camp with intrenchments. But his men slept on their arms that night, and, although no sound from the Indian village disturbed the stillness, there was a general feeling of restlessness.
Between four and five in the morning, in the dark that comes before the dawn, a sentinel's shot followed by the Indian yell brought every man to his feet. As the soldiers stood in the light of the camp fires, peering into the blackness with cocked muskets, they were shot down by savages, who rushed upon them with such force that they broke the line of guards and made an entrance into the camp. Had the number of assailants been greater, or had Harrison been less alert, they would doubtless have created a panic. But Harrison was already up and on the point of rousing his soldiers when the alarm sounded. With perfect self-possession he rode about where bullets were flying thickest, giving orders and encouraging his men.
The brave Daveiss, having gained Harrison's consent, recklessly plunged with only a few followers into a thicket to dislodge some Indians who were firing upon the troops at close range. He was soon surrounded and shot down.
The Indians fought with great persistence and kept up the attack for two hours, during which the troops held their ground with admirable firmness. As day dawned the Indians gradually withdrew.
Harrison's situation was perilous. Counting killed and wounded he had already lost one hundred and fiftyfighting men. The Indians might return at any moment in larger numbers to attack his exhausted force. Provisions were low and it was cold and raining. The men stood at their posts through the day without food or fire. All day and all night the soldiers kept watch. The second day, the horsemen cautiously advanced to the town. To their relief they found it empty. The Indians had evidently fled in haste, leaving behind large stores of provisions. Harrison's troops helped themselves to what they wanted, burned the deserted town, and returned to Vincennes with rapid marches.
BATTLE OF TIPPECANOEBATTLE OF TIPPECANOE
As a result of the battle of Tippecanoe, Harrison was the hero of the hour. News of the destruction of the Prophet's town carried cheer into every white man's cabin on the frontier.
Of the six hundred Indians that Harrison estimated had taken part in the battle of Tippecanoe, thirty-eight were found dead on the field. Though that was not a large number from a white man's point of view, the Indians regarded the loss of thirty-eight of their warriors as no light matter.
But that was not the heaviest blow to the confederation that Tecumseh and the Prophet had worked so hard to establish. Tippecanoe had been regarded with superstitious veneration as the Prophet's town, a sort of holy city, under the special protection of the Great Spirit. The destruction of the town, therefore, seriously affected the reputation of the Prophet.
It is hard to tell what part the Prophet played in the attack on Governor Harrison's forces. In their anxiety to escape punishment from the United States government many Indians who were known to have taken part in the battle excused their conduct by saying they had acted in obedience to the Prophet's directions. They told strange stories of his urging them to battle with promises that the Great Spirit would protect them from the bullets of the enemy.
On the other hand, the Prophet said the young men who would not listen to his commands were to blame for the trouble.
The fact that the Indians did not follow up their advantage over Harrison, and instead of renewing the attack with their full force, fled from him, would indicate that there certainly was a large party in favor of peace. It seems probable that that party was made up of the Prophet and his most faithful followers, rather than of those Indians who, while pretending to be the friends of the United States and accusing the Prophet, admitted that they had done the fighting. Tenskwatawa had had advice from the British, and strict orders from Tecumseh to remain at peace, and he had shown in many ways his anxiety to appease Harrison and keep the Indians from doing violence. For some time the influence of Tenskwatawa and Tecumseh had been more to restrain and direct than to excite the anger of the Indians which had been kindled by the treaty of 1809, and was ready to break out at any instant. It is hard, too, to believe that young warriors who had never been trained to act on the defensive could be constrained to wait until they were attacked, and so lose the advantage to be gained by surprising the enemy, or that they could be made to withdraw without striking a blow.
But however blameless the Prophet may have been, he suffered for a time, as Harrison had supposed he would. He was the scapegoat on whom all placed the responsibility for the battle of Tippecanoe. Even Tecumseh is said to have rebuked him bitterly for not holding the young men in check.
That Tecumseh disapproved of the affair is evident from the answer he sent the British, who advised him to avoid further encounters with the Americans:
"You tell us to retreat or turn to one side should the Big Knives come against us. Had I been at home in the late unfortunate affair I should have done so; but those I left at home were—I cannot call them men—a poor set of people, and their scuffle with the Big Knives I compared to a struggle between little children who only scratch each other's faces."
INDIANS THREATENING "THE PROPHET"INDIANS THREATENING "THE PROPHET"
In the spring, Tecumseh presented himself at Vincennes saying that he was now ready to go to Washington to visit the President. The Governor, however, gave him a cold welcome, telling him that if he went he must go alone. Tecumseh's pride was hurt and he refused to go unless he could travel in a style suited to the dignity of a great chief, the leader of the red men.
Harrison soon learned that the brothers were again at Tippecanoe, with their loyal followers, rebuilding the village and strengthening their forces.
In April, 1812, a succession of horrible murders on the frontier alarmed the settlers. A general uprising of the Indians was expected daily. The militiamen refused to leave their families unprotected. The Governor was unable to secure the protection of the United States troops. Panic spread along the border; whole districts were unpeopled. Men, women, and children hastened to the forts or even to Kentucky for safety. There was fear that Vincennes would be overpowered.
Had the Indians chosen this time to strike, they could have done terrible mischief. But Tecumseh's voice was still for peace. At a council held in May, he said:
"Governor Harrison made war on my people in my absence; it was the will of God that he should do so. We hope it will please the Great Spirit that the white people may let us live in peace. We will not disturb them, neither have we done it, except when they come to our village with the intention of destroying us. We are happy to state to our brothers present that the unfortunate transaction that took place between the white people and a few of our young men at our village, has been settled between us and Governor Harrison; and I will further state that had I been at home there would have been no bloodshed at that time.
"It is true, we have endeavored to give all our brothers good advice, and if they have not listened to it we are sorry for it. We defy a living creature to say we ever advised any one, directly or indirectly, to make war on our white brothers. It has constantly been our misfortune to have our view misrepresented to our white brothers. This has been done by the Pottawottomies and others who sell to the white people land that does not belong to them."
Greatly as Tecumseh wished the Indians to remain at peace with the citizens of the United States, he saw that it was impossible for them to do so unless they were willing to give up their lands. The British, meanwhile, promised to regain for the Indians all the land north of the Ohio River and east of the Alleghany Mountains. They roused in the heart of Tecumseh the hope that the old boundaries between the territory of the Indians and the territory of the white man would be reëstablished. When war broke out in 1812, between Great Britain and the United States, Tecumseh joined the British at Malden. In making this alliance he was not influenced by any kindly feeling toward the British. He simply did what seemed to him for the best interests of the Indians.
At the outset, fortune favored the British flag. Fort Mackinac, in northern Michigan, fell into the hands of a force of British and Indians. Detroit was surrenderedto General Brock without resistance. Fort Dearborn, at Chicago, was burned and its garrison was massacred by the Indians. The English seemed in a fair way to fulfill their promise of driving the American settlers from the Northwest. Fort Harrison and Fort Wayne were the only strongholds of importance left to guard the frontier. These forts Tecumseh planned to take by stratagem.
FORT DETROIT IN 1812FORT DETROIT IN 1812
The victories of the British won to their side the tribes that had hesitated, and hundreds of warriors flocked to the standard of Tecumseh. He became an important and conspicuous figure in the war. His bravery, his knowledge of the country, and his large following made it possible for him to give his allies invaluable aid. Without Tecumseh and his Indians the British war in the West would have been a slight affair.
ONE OF THE "LONG KNIVES"ONE OF THE "LONG KNIVES"
The Americans fitted out a large military force to retake Detroit, and overthrow the Indians who threatened the settlements. General Harrison was put in command of the expedition. He set out with his army in grand array, but was unable to reach Detroit because of the swampy condition of the land over which he must march. He was forced to camp on the Maumee River. His advance into the territory of the Indians thwarted the enterprise that Tecumseh had set on foot against Fort Wayne.
While Harrison was encamped at Fort Meigs there were several encounters between the hostile forces. A division of Harrison's army, under General Winchester, having allowed itself to become separated from the main army, was attacked on the River Raisin by a party of British and Indians. After a fierce struggle the remnant of General Winchester's force surrendered to the British. In the absence of Tecumseh many of the prisoners were cruelly massacred by the Indian victors.
Major Richardson's description of General Winchester's men gives us a good idea of the hardihood of the frontier soldiers, and shows us how they came to be called "Long Knives" by the Indians:
"It was the depth of winter; but scarcely an individual was in possession of a great coat or cloak, andfew of them wore garments of wool of any description. They still retained their summer dress, consisting of cotton stuff of various colors shaped into frocks, and descending to the knee. Their trousers were of the same material. They were covered with slouched hats, worn bare by constant use, beneath which their long hair fell matted and uncombed over their cheeks; and these, together with the dirty blankets wrapped round their loins to protect them against the inclemency of the season, and fastened by broad leathern belts, into which were thrust axes and knives of an enormous length, gave them an air of wildness and savageness."
Later, General Proctor, who had succeeded General Brock in command of the British forces at Detroit, laid siege to Fort Meigs. Tecumseh, who took part in the siege, was anxious to meet the enemy in open country. He sent the following unceremonious challenge to his old acquaintance:
"General Harrison: I have with me eight hundred braves. You have an equal number in your hiding place. Come out with them and give me battle. You talked like a brave when we met at Vincennes, and I respected you; but now you hide behind logs and in the earth, like a ground-hog. Give me answer.Tecumseh."
"General Harrison: I have with me eight hundred braves. You have an equal number in your hiding place. Come out with them and give me battle. You talked like a brave when we met at Vincennes, and I respected you; but now you hide behind logs and in the earth, like a ground-hog. Give me answer.
Tecumseh."
When Harrison did venture to send out a detachment it was beaten by the Indians, and many of the Americans were made prisoners. For all the effort General Proctor made to prevent it, a terrible massacre might have followed this victory. Just as the Indians had begun to murder the prisoners, Tecumseh rode upon the scene of slaughter. When he saw what was going on he exclaimed in a passion of regret and indignation, "Oh, what will become of my Indians!" He rushed into the midst of the savages, rescued the man they were beginning to torture, and, with uplifted tomahawk, dared the whole horde to touch another prisoner. They cowered before him, deeply ashamed of their conduct.
On discovering that General Proctor was present, Tecumseh demanded impatiently why he had not interfered to prevent the massacre. General Proctor answered that Tecumseh's Indians could not be controlled. To this Tecumseh responded with scorn: "Say, rather, you are unable to command. Go put on petticoats."
In September, 1813, Commodore Perry's splendid victories on Lake Erie gave to the Americans control of the Lakes, and this made it impossible for the British to hold Detroit and Malden. Harrison was advancing with a land force to take these towns and General Proctor waseager to get out of his way. He began to prepare for retreat, but tried to conceal his purpose from Tecumseh. The latter's suspicions were aroused, however, and he demanded a council, in which he made his last formal speech. He spoke boldly and bitterly against General Proctor's course. He said:
"You always told us you would never draw your foot off British ground; but now, father, we see that you are drawing back, and we are sorry to see our father doing so without seeing the enemy. We must compare our father's conduct to a fat dog that carries its tail on its back, but when affrighted it drops it between its legs and runs off. Father, listen! The Americans have not yet defeated us by land; neither are we sure they have done so by water; we therefore wish to remain here and fight our enemy, should they make their appearance. If they defeat us we will retreat with our father. * * * We now see our British father preparing to march out of his stronghold. Father, you have the arms and ammunition which our great father sent to his red children. If you have an idea of going away, give them to us and you may go and welcome. For us, our lives are in the hands of the Great Spirit. We are determined to defend our lands, and if it be His will, we wish to leave our bones upon them."
Notwithstanding the wish of Tecumseh, General Proctor kept his purpose to retreat. He promised, however, that if they were pursued by the Americans he would turn at the first favorable site and give them battle. Accordingly, Tecumseh accompanied the retreating General. He repeatedly urged Proctor to keep his promise and face the enemy. On the fifth of October, Proctor learned that the American forces were at his heels. Valor, therefore, seemed the better part of discretion, and, choosing a ridge between the Thames River and a swamp, he arranged his forces for battle.
Colonel Richard M. Johnson managed the charge of the Americans. One division of his regiment, under command of his brother, attacked and quickly routed the British regulars under General Proctor. The other division he himself led against Tecumseh's Indians.
The Indians waited under protection of the thick brush until the horsemen were within close range; then in response to Tecumseh's war cry all fired. Johnson's advance guard was nearly cut down. The horses could not advance. Johnson ordered his men to dismount and a terrible struggle followed. Soon Tecumseh was shot, and, the Indians missing him, gave up the battle and fled. One of them afterwards described the defeat in a few words: "Tecumseh fell and we all ran."
The war was now ended in the Northwest. The Americans had regained the posts taken by the British; they had subdued the Indians, and gained possession of the lands in the Wabash Valley. The power of the Prophet was destroyed. Tecumseh was dead. The Long Knives had crushed forever the Confederacy of Tecumseh, but it had taken upward of five million dollars and an army of twenty thousand men to do it.
The sun was low in the west and sent long shafts of light across the tops of the trees that bordered a quiet, shining lake in northern Florida. It shone upon a company of Indians who were straggling along the shore, and made their bright turbans and many colored calicoes look gay in spite of dirt and tatters.
The company was a large one. In it were not only braves, but also squaws and pappooses, and a few negroes. They trooped along with the unhurried swiftness and easy disarray of men and women who have journeyed for many days and have many days of travel still before them.
Here and there a strapping brave bestrode a horse, while his squaw trudged beside him, sharing with a black slave the burden of household goods. But for the most part ceremony had given way to necessity and the warriors went afoot, leaving the horses and mules to carry the old men, aged squaws, and young children, who were too feeble to walk.
This was a band of Red Stick Indians who had left forever the camping grounds of their fathers on the Chattahoochee River, to escape the oppression of theirpowerful kinsmen, the Creek Indians. They had rebelled against the rule of the Creeks, because the Creeks refused them their share of plunder in battle, and laid claim to their lands and their slaves. The Red Sticks hated the Creeks so bitterly that they could no longer live near them. They were resolved to leave altogether the territory that the United States government recognized as belonging to the Creeks, and seek homes with the Seminoles or runaways in Florida.
CREEK INDIANS
CREEK INDIANSCREEK INDIANS
The Red Sticks had left the Creek country far behind them, and had arrived, as we have seen, in northern Florida. The land into which they had come was uncultivated, wild, and sweet. The lakes and rivers were full of fish; the forests were full of game; fruits and berries grew in abundance. Everything seemed to invite the wanderers to tarry there and build themselves homes. Still they marched on over rich brown fields, past dancing lakes and streams, over fertile hillsidesshaded with live oak and magnolia. No spot, however beautiful, could induce them to pause for more than a few days' rest. Their object was not to find a pleasant camping ground but to escape the hated Creeks. They were bound for a distant swamp. On the borders of the Okefinokee marsh they planned to make their homes. There they would be reasonably safe from the enemy, and even if the Creeks should follow them there, the swamp would afford them a secure retreat.
But this goal was still many miles away, and the fugitives were now pressing toward a little hill, where they expected to make a short halt.
The young men were silent but alert. Now and again one raised his bow and brought down a goose or a wild turkey, and some youngster plunged into the thicket to find it and fetch it to his mother. Here and there were groups of women burdened with kettles and pans and bundles of old clothes, or carrying small children and raising a great clamor of chatter and laughter.
A little apart from the main company a tall and handsome Indian woman plodded silently along by herself. The splendor of her kerchief had been faded by sun and rain; her skirts were torn by briers, but the necklace of silver beads wound many times about her throat retained its glory. On one hip rested a huge basket, packed and corded. Astride the other rode a sturdy-limbed boy of about four years of age. Nearly all day the child had run by her side without complaint. But toward evening he had begun to lag behind, until at last, when, after agood run, he caught up with his mother, he clutched her skirts to help himself along. Then she had stooped and picked him up with a sort of fierce tenderness and in a moment he had fallen asleep.
Soon the Indians reached the hilltop where they were to camp for a few days. Their preparations for the night's rest consisted chiefly in building camp fires; for, though the days were warm, the nights were chilly. Besides, fires were needed to cook food and to keep the wild beasts away during the darkness. A small fire of light brush was made first. Then several large logs were placed about it, each with one end in the flame, so that they looked like the spokes of a great wheel radiating from a center of fire. As the ends of the logs burned away, the fiery ring at the center grew wider and dimmer. When a hotter fire was wanted, the logs were pushed toward the center till the glowing ends came together once more and burned briskly.
On the morning after the Red Sticks went into camp on the hill, while others lounged and talked together, the woman wearing the necklace of silver beads still kept apart. She sat on the unburned end of a fire log and for a time paid no heed to the question her small son had repeated many times. At last she looked up and said: "Do not ask again about the baby with the blue eyes. Do not think of her. She does not cry for you. She plays with little Creek pappooses. She is not your sister any more. Go, play at shooting turkeys with black Jim. He loves you like a brother."
The woman was the daughter of a chief. She had married a man of her own tribe, but after he fell in battle she married a Scotch trader, named Powell, who lived among the Creeks. When the time came for the flight of the Red Sticks her heart turned to her people. She enjoyed too much the glory of being a trader's wife to give up her position and her home without much bitterness. But she was too true an Indian to desert her tribe. As her husband had no notion of leaving his trading station among the Creeks, she had left him and her blue-eyed baby and had come with her kindred, bringing with her her little son, a true Indian, the child of her first husband.
The boy played at shooting wild turkeys with black Jim that day, and many times afterward. As time passed he thought less and less of the blue-eyed sister and more and more of his comrade with a black skin.
These Red Sticks were not the first wanderers who had sought homes and safety in Florida. For some fifty years bands of Indians enticed by the rich hunting grounds, or driven by the persecutions of the Creeks, had left their kindred in Georgia and Alabama to try their fortunes in Florida.
They had found other tribes in possession of the peninsula, but the newcomers were more warlike andsoon made themselves and their claim to the land respected by the natives. Indeed, the immigrants soon came to be looked upon as the ruling people. They were called Seminoles, which means runaways.
The Seminoles would not attend Creek councils. They refused to be bound by treaties made by the Creeks. In all ways they wished to be considered a separate and distinct people.