X
_TECUMSEH_
"It is madness to contend against the whites," said Black Hoof, chiefof the Shawnees. "The more we fight the more they come."
He had led raids against Boonsboro, watched the Ohio, and sold scalpsat Detroit. Three times his town was burnt behind him, twice by Clarkand once by Wayne. Then he gave up, signed the treaty at Greenville,and for ever after kept the peace. Now he was living with a band ofShawnees at Cape Girardeau, and made frequent visits to his oldfriend, Daniel Boone.
Indian Phillips was with those who besieged Boonsboro. Phillips was awhite man stolen as a child who had always lived with the Shawnees. Tohim Daniel Boone was the closest of friends. They hunted together andslept together. Boone took Phillips' bearskins and sold them with hisown in St. Louis.
"If I should die while I am out with you, Phillips, you must mark mygrave and tell the folks so they can carry me home."
Long after those Indians in the West had welcomed Boone's sons, an oldsquaw said, "I was an adopted sister during his captivity with theOhio Indians."
Sometimes Boone went over to Cape Girardeau, and sat with his friendstalking over old times.
"Do you remember, Dan," Phillips would say, "when we had you prisonerat Detroit? You remember the British traders gave you a horse andsaddle and Black Fish adopted you, and you and he made an agreementyou would lead him to Boonsboro and make them surrender and bury thetomahawk, and live like brothers and sisters?"
"Yes, I remember," said Boone, smiling at the recollection of thosearts of subterfuge.
"Do you remember one warm day when Black Fish said, 'Dan, the corn isin good roasting ears. I would like to have your horse and mine ingood condition before we start to Boonsboro. We need a trough to feedthem in. I will show you a big log that you can dig out.' Black Fishled you to a big walnut log. You worked a while and then lay down.Black Fish came and said, 'Well, Dan, you haven't done much.'
"'No,' you answered, 'you and your squaw call me your son, but youdon't love me much. When I am at home I don't work this way,--I havenegroes to work for me.'
"'Well,' said Black Fish, 'come to camp and stay with your brothers.'"
Quietly the two old men chuckled together. Boone always called BlackFish, father, and when he went hunting brought the choicest bit to thechief.
But now Boone's visits to Girardeau were made with a purpose.
"What is Tecumseh doing?"
"Tecumseh? He says no tribe can sell our lands. He refuses to move outof Ohio."
Old Black Hoof had pulled away from Tecumseh. The Shooting Starrefused to attend Wayne's treaty at Greenville. In 1805 he styledhimself a chief, and organised the young blood of the Shawnees into apersonal band.
About this time Tecumseh met Rebecca Galloway, whose father, JamesGalloway, had moved over from Kentucky to settle near Old Chillicothe.At the Galloway hearth Tecumseh was ever a welcome guest.
"Teach me to read the white man's book," said Tecumseh to the fairRebecca.
With wonderful speed the young chief picked up the English alphabet.Hungry for knowledge, he read and read and Rebecca read to him.Thereafter in his wonderful war and peace orations, Tecumseh used thelanguage of his beloved Rebecca. For, human-like, the young chief losthis heart to the white girl. Days went by, dangerous days, whileRebecca was correcting Tecumseh's speech, enlarging his Englishvocabulary, and reading to him from the Bible.
"Promise me, Tecumseh, never, never will you permit the massacre ofhelpless women and children after capture." Tecumseh promised.
"And be kind to the poor surrendered prisoner."
"I will be kind," said Tecumseh.
But time was fleeting,--game was disappearing,--Tecumseh was anIndian. His lands were slipping from under his feet.
It was useless to speak to the fair Rebecca. Terrified at the fire shehad kindled, she saw him no more. Enraged, wrathful, he returned tohis band. Tecumseh never loved any Indian woman. A wife or two hetried, then bade them "Begone!"
When Lewis and Clark returned from the West, Tecumseh and his brother,the Prophet, were already planning a vast confederation to wipe outthe whites.
Jefferson heard of these things.
"He is visionary," said the President, and let him go on unmolested.
"The Seventeen Fires are cheating us!" exclaimed Tecumseh. "TheDelawares, Miamis, and Pottawattamies have sold their lands! The GreatSpirit gave the land to all the Indians. No tribe can sell without theconsent of all. The whites have driven us from the sea-coast,--theywill shortly push us into the Lakes."
The Governor-General of Canada encouraged him. Then came rumours ofIndian activity. Like the Hermit of old, Tecumseh went out to rousethe redmen in a crusade against the whites. Still Jefferson paid noheed.
About the time that Clark and his bride came down the Ohio, thedistracted Indians were swarming on Tippecanoe Creek, a hundred milesfrom Fort Dearborn, the future Chicago. All Summer, whisperings cameinto St. Louis, "Tecumseh is persuading the Sacs, Foxes, and Osages towar."
"I will meet the Sacs and Foxes," said Lewis.
Clark went out and quieted the Osages. Boone's son and AugusteChouteau went with him.
"The Great Spirit bids you destroy Vincennes and sweep the Ohio to themouth," was the Prophet's reported advice to the Chippewas.
"Give up our land and buy no more, and I will ally with the UnitedStates," said Tecumseh to General Harrison at Vincennes, in August of1809.
"It cannot be," said Harrison.
"Then I will make war and ally with England," retorted the defiantchieftain.
The frontier had much to fear from an Indian war. More and morevagrant red men hovered around St. Louis,--Sacs, Foxes, Osages, whohad seen Tecumseh. The Illinois country opposite swarmed with them,making raids on the farmers, killing stock, stealing horses. Massacresand depredations began.
"'Tis time to fortify," said Daniel Boone to his sons and neighbours.
In a little while nine forts had been erected in St. Charles countyalone, and every cabin was stockaded. The five stockades at Boone'sLick met frequent assaults. Black Hawk was there, the trustedlieutenant of Tecumseh. The whole frontier became alarmed.
Then Manuel Lisa came down the river.
"The British are sending wampum to the Sioux. All the Missouri nationsare urged to join the confederacy."
In fact, the Prophet with his mystery fire was visiting all thenorthwest tribes, even the Blackfeet. Ten thousand Indians promised tofollow him back. Dressed in white buckskin, with eagle feathers in hishair, Tecumseh, on a spirited black pony, came to Gomo and BlackPartridge on Peoria Lake in the summer of 1810.
"I cannot join you," said Black Partridge, the Pottawattamie, holdingup a silver medal. "This token was given to me at Greenville by thegreat chief [Wayne]. On it you see the face of our father atWashington. As long as this hangs on my neck I can never raise mytomahawk against the whites."
Gomo refused. "Long ago the Big Knife [George Rogers Clark] came toKaskaskia and sent for the chiefs of this river. We went. He desiredus to remain still in our own villages, saying that the Americanswere able, of themselves, to fight the British."
"Will anything short of the complete conquest of the Canadas enable usto prevent their influence on our Indians?" asked Governor Edwards ofIllinois. Edwards and Clark planned together for the protection of thefrontier.
In July, 1811, Tecumseh went to Vincennes and held a last stormyinterview with Harrison without avail. Immediately he turned south tothe Creeks, Choctaws, Chickasaws, and Seminoles. They watched him withkindling eyes.
"Brothers, you do not mean to fight!" thundered Tecumseh to thehesitating Creeks. "You do not believe the Great Spirit has sent me.You shall know. From here I go straight to Detroit. When I arrivethere I shall stamp on the ground, and shake down every house in thisvillage."
As Tecumseh strode into the forest the terrified Creeks watched. Theycounted the days. Then came the awful quaking and shaking of the NewMadrid earthquake.
"Tecum
seh has reached Detroit! Tecumseh has reached Detroit!" criedthe frantic Creeks, as their wigwams tumbled about them.
Tecumseh was coming leisurely up among the tribes of Missouri,haranguing Black Hoof at Cape Girardeau, Osages, and Kickapoos, andIowas at Des Moines.
But Tippecanoe had been fought and lost.
"There is to be an attack," said George Rogers Clark Floyd, tapping atthe door of Harrison's tent at three o'clock in the morning ofNovember 7, 1811. Harrison sprang to his horse and with him GeorgeCroghan and John O'Fallon.
It was a battle for possession. Every Indian trained by Tecumseh knewhis country depended upon it. Every white knew he must win or the logcabin must go. In the darkness and rain the combatants locked in thedeath struggle of savagery against civilisation. Tecumseh reached theWabash to find the wreck of Tippecanoe.
"Wretch!" he cried to his brother, "you have ruined all!" Seizing theProphet by the hair, Tecumseh shook him and beat him and cuffed himand almost killed him, then dashed away to Canada and offered histomahawk to Great Britain.
"The danger is not over," said Clark after Harrison's battle.
To save as many Indians as possible from the machinations of Tecumseh,immediately after Tippecanoe Clark summoned the neighbouring tribes toa council at St. Louis. Over the winter snows the runners sped,calling them in for a trip to Washington.
It was May of 1812 when Clark got together his chiefs of the Great andLittle Osages, Sacs, Foxes, Shawnees, and Delawares.
"Ahaha! Great Medicine!" whispered the Indians, when General Clarkdiscovered their wily plans.
Nothing could be hid from the Red Head Chief. Feared and beloved, noneother could better have handled the inflammable tribes at that moment.Old chiefs among them remembered his brother of the Long Knives, andlooked upon this Clark as his natural successor. And the General tookcare not to dispel this fancy, but on every occasion strengthened anddeepened it.
Never before in St. Louis had Indians been watched so strenuously.Moody, taciturn, repelling familiarity, they bore the faces of men whoknew secrets. Tecumseh had whispered in their ear. "Shall we listen toTecumseh?" They were wavering.
Cold, impassively stoic, they heeded no question when citizensimpelled by curiosity or friendly feeling endeavoured to draw theminto conversation. If pressed too closely, the straight forms liftedstill more loftily, and wrapping their blankets closer about them thecouncil chiefs strode contemptuously away.
But if Clark spoke, every eye was attention.
"Before we go," said Clark, "I advise you to make peace with oneanother and bury the hatchet."
They did, and for the most part kept it for ever.
It was May 5 when Clark started with his embassy of ninety chiefs tosee their "Great God, the President," as they called Madison,following the old trail to Vincennes, Louisville, and Pittsburg. Alongwith them went a body-guard of soldiers, and also Mrs. Clark, hermaids, and the two little boys, on the way to Fincastle. Mrs. Clark'sespecial escort was John O'Fallon, nineteen years of age, aide toHarrison at Tippecanoe, who had come to his uncle at St. Louisimmediately after the battle.
In their best necklaces of bears' claws the chiefs arrived atWashington. War had been declared against Great Britain. There was aconsultation with the President.
"We, too, have declared war," announced the redmen, as they strodewith Clark from the White House. But Black Hawk of the Rock River Sacswas not there. He had followed Tecumseh.
About the same time, on the eastern bank of the Detroit river Tecumsehwas met by anxious Ohio chiefs who remembered Wayne.
"Let us remain neutral," they pleaded. "This is the white man's war."
Tecumseh shook his tomahawk above the Detroit. "My bones shall bleachon this shore before I will join in any council of neutrality."
"The Great Father over the Big Water will never bury his war-clubuntil he quiets these troublers of the earth," said General Brock toTecumseh's redmen. Then came larger gifts than ever from "theirBritish Father."
"War is declared! Go," said Tecumseh, "cut off Fort Dearborn beforethey hear the news!" Two emissaries from Tecumseh came flying into theIllinois.
That night the Indians started for Chicago on her lonely lake. BlackPartridge mounted his pony and tried to dissuade them. He could not.Then spurring he reached Fort Dearborn first. With tears he threw downhis medal before the astonished commander.
"My young men have gone on the warpath. Here is your medal. I will notwear an emblem of friendship when I am compelled to act as an enemy."
Before the sun went down the shores of Lake Michigan were red with theblood of men, women, and children. Like the Rhine of old France, thelakes were still the fighting border.
President Madison felt grateful to Clark for the step he had takenwith the Indians.
"Will you command the army at Detroit?"
"I can do more for my country by attending to the Indians," was theGeneral's modest reply.
The country waited to hear that Hull had taken Upper Canada. Insteadthe shocked nation heard, "_Hull has surrendered_!"
"Hull has surrendered!"
Runners flew among the Indians to the remotest border,--the Creeksheard it before their white neighbours. Little Crow and his Siouxsnatched up the war hatchet. Detroit had fallen with Tecumseh andBrock at the head of the Anglo-Indian army.
"We shall drive these Americans back across the Ohio," said GeneralBrock.
At this, the old and popular wish of the Lake Indians, large numbersthrew aside their scruples and joined in the war that followed.
In December General Clark was appointed Governor of the newlyorganised territory of Missouri.
Meanwhile in the buff and blue stage coach, a huge box mounted onsprings, Julia and her children were swinging toward Fotheringay. Theair was hot and dusty, the leather curtains were rolled up to catchthe slightest breeze, and the happy though weary occupants looked outon the Valley of Virginia.
Forty miles a day the coach horses travelled, leaving them eachevening a little nearer their destination. The small wayside innslacked comforts, but such as they were our travellers acceptedthankfully. Now and then the post-rider blew his horn and dashed bythem, or in the heat of the day rode leisurely in the shade of poplarsalong the road, furtively reading the letters of his pack as he pacedin the dust.
And still over the mountains were pouring white-topped Conestogawaggons, careening down like boats at sea, laden with cargoes ofcolonial ware, pewter, and mahogany. The golden age of coaching timeshad come, and magnificent horses, dappled grays and bays inscarlet-fringed housings and jingling bells, seemed bearing away theworld on wheels.
To the new home Julia was coming, at Fotheringay.
Before the coach stopped Julia perceived through enshrining treesBlack Granny standing in the wide hallway. Throwing up her apron overher woolly head to hide the tears of joy,--
"Laws a-honey! Miss Judy done come hum!"
"Fotheringay!" sang out the dusty driver with an unusual flourish ofwhip-lash and echo-waking blast of the postillion's horn. In a tricethe steps were down, and surrounded by babies and bandboxes, brassnail-studded hair trunks and portmanteaus of pigskin, "Miss Judy" wasgreeted by the entire sable population of Fotheringay. Light-footed asa girl she ran forward to greet her father, Colonel Hancock. TheColonel hastened to his daughter,--
"Hull has surrendered," he said.