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