CHAPTER I.

“And many a gloomy tale tradition yet Saves from oblivion of their struggles vain, Their prowess and their wrongs, for rhymer meet, To people scenes, where still their names remain.”

SANDS.

The 20th of August, 1794, was the commencement of an era, ever to be remembered in the annals of the West; for it marks the close of those sanguinary battles which had so long desolated our northwestern frontier with all the horrors of savage warfare.

Previous to this date, the Indians, emboldened by repeated successes, and instigated by hireling agents, had swept like a tornado along the whole range of our western settlements, marking their route with the direst destruction. But it was not in predatory excursions alone that their power had been felt; they had been victorious in several regular engagements. Led on by the most noted chieftains of their tribes, they had defeated Generals Harmar and St. Clair, nearly annihilating the army of the latter, and creating so great a sensation throughout the land, that it caused the Father of his country, like Augustus when he heard of the destruction of Varus and his legions, to weep for the men he had trained to arms, and pass a sleepless night, pacing his apartment, and repeating aloud, “St. Clair! St. Clair! restore me my troops!”

This calamity, however, aroused the nation from its apathy; and the appointment of General Wayne to the command of the western army induced the country to anticipate the happiest results. No man was more popular, and no selection could have inspired more confidence. Bold, daring, indefatigable, and skilled in habits of Indian warfare, he was withal so reckless of life, that he received, and ever after bore in the West, the appellation of “_Mad Anthony_.” We should exceed the limits which we have here assigned ourselves, were we to trace minutely the progress of events from the time of his appointment to the period with which we commence; nearly a year had elapsed, and nothing definite had been accomplished, when, on the 8th of August, 1794, we find him encamped at the confluence of the Au-Glaize and Maumee Rivers, having under his command more than three thousand men, most of whom were regulars. The Indians, comprising the tribes of the Miamies, Pottawatamies, Delawares, Shawanees, Chippewas, Ottawas, and Senecas, amounting in all to about two thousand, were commanded by Little Turtle, chief of the Miamies, and the most noted warrior of his day; Blue Jacket, chief of the Shawanees; and Buckongahelas, chief of the Delawares.

The morning of the 20th found the Indians advantageously posted in the forest of Presque Isle, awaiting the advance of General Wayne. With his army divided into two columns, he moved on to the attack; the action became general about 10 o'clock, and for sometime was maintained with the greatest obstinacy. A movement on the part of the American General to out-flank their right wing, threw them into disorder, and wanting unanimity among themselves, for dissensions had already crept into their ranks, a flight ensued, and victory declared in favour of the Americans. The loss on either side was not great, yet the victory was complete, and attended with more important consequences than any battle which had ever been fought in the “far west.” The Indians were dispersed, and their property destroyed, and being no longer able to contend with any hope of success, many chiefs sent in their submission. Hostilities were now suspended, and in the following year Commissioners were appointed on the part of the United States for the purpose of concluding a general peace.

Greenville, in Ohio, was appointed for the conference, and thither in August, 1795, repaired the Commissioners, together with the chiefs of all the northwestern tribes, accompanied by crowds of red men. Never had a more imposing council been held in the “far west.” Of the Representatives who were present, each one was conspicuous in the tribe to which he belonged, all were famed as warriors, and noted for the part they had acted in the deadly struggle which they had so long, and so hopelessly been waging.

The crowd which had assembled, both of red men and whites, gave it somewhat the appearance of a jubilee, but, on the part of the Indians, it was a sad occasion which had called them together. They had long been contending for wild lands, and still wilder liberty, with a perseverance and determined zeal which won the admiration even of their enemies. There was nothing selfish, or ambitious in their purpose; they fought to retain that which the God of nature had given them, and thousands had fallen and died satisfied, that they fell in defence of their hunting grounds, and in preserving sacred the graves of their fathers. They yielded to the superiority which a civilized has over a savage foe, and they yielded, when their tribes were so thinned of warriors that but few were left to battle in their country's cause.

After so fruitless and protracted a struggle, it might truly be deemed a sad occasion which had called them together, to transfer for ever, those lands, for the possession of which they had so long contended. But they were now forced to sue for peace, and the cession of a large portion of their territory was the sole condition upon which it was to be obtained—the powerful dictating to the powerless—and we may well conceive the reluctance with which they acceded to the demand, when we reflect, that the tract of country then surrendered, now comprises several of the most flourishing states in the Union. The terms, however, after a long and ineffectual opposition, were accepted, and the treaty being ratified, each party pledged itself to preserve the peace concluded. The Indians then expressed themselves contented with its provisions, and the council adjourned. Peace being now restored, all seemed anxious to preserve it, and Indians and whites mingling promiscuously together, forgot at once former differences, in expressions of mutual courtesy and friendship.

With this state of things came a change in the affairs of the West. The instruments of war were exchanged for the implements of agriculture, and crowds of emigrants were found flocking to that lovely region of country, where but a short time before, marched regiments of fearless and intrepid soldiery, or where, in lawless bands, with vengeance dire, there roamed the savage wild. Beautiful and bright was the prospect now, as when a cloud which has for some time shrouded the horizon in gloom, carrying terror and dismay to the breasts of all, spends its force, and suddenly breaking away, leaves the glad sun dancing upon the earth. So was it here. Gloom and darkness had hung over the land—the midnight torch, and merciless scalping-knife were the visions of the past, and the future now shone forth so clear and inviting that it promised to realize even the wildest dreams of the imagination.

Looking through the vista of futurity, it required no seer to foretell, that the Valley of the Mississippi, which, from its physical appearance, may well be regarded as the cradle of our continent, was soon destined to become the chosen home of the exile from every clime, and to contain a population, brave, hardy, and industrious; not one to whom ignoble thoughts were boon companions, but a people elevated in sentiment by the immunities received under a Republican government, and stimulated to acts of noble daring and enterprise, by the reflection, that their fortunes were cast in a land where nature had been more lavish of her bounties, than in any other part of the world—yes, in a region of country, bounded on the north by lakes, in which, so vast is their extent, all the vessels, that in every part of the world now plough the briny deep, might be placed, and still hold their onward course—in a region of country, where rivers run by almost every door, and throughout the whole of which flows one great stream, the grand receptacle of a thousand tributaries—a wonder within itself—the great aorta of our continent, which courses every clime, from the far frozen regions of the North, to warm and sunny lands, “where the orange and citron are fairest of fruit,” and flowers burst into beauty, regardless of the seasons of the year.

Indeed it required no seer to tell, that here, in a few years, cities would spring up as if called into existence by the wand of the magician, that those streams, over which now skimmed the light canoe, would soon be covered with boats, bearing to other markets the surplus produce of a mighty people.—These were the expectations which filled the minds of all, when peace spread her wings over the wilds of the West, and when with them were connected the descriptions of hardy adventurers, who not only pourtrayed it as possessing all the advantages here depicted, but likewise painted its beauties in such glowing colours, that reason was merged in visions of fancy, thousands of our enterprising citizens tore themselves from their comfortable homes in our older states to become settlers of the West.

With the commencement of this onward movement, forests began to disappear, and fields of grain waved in rich luxuriance, where, but a few years before, the Indian hunter pursued his wily game.—As time rolled on, the woodman's axe was often heard in the forest, and every road was thronged with emigrants wending their way to some new and distant home—while the Ohio was dotted with countless small flat-roofed buildings, filled with families, who were floating on to points still more remote.

When the tide of emigration first began to flow, the wigwams of the Indians served as a barrier, and for a time stayed its progress; but, as the flood increased, they were forced to desert their homes, and recede from its influence. Having smoked the pipe of peace with the stranger, they spoke not a word, but with feelings of deep sorrow, left the graves of their fathers, and retiring farther into the forest, selected another spot whereon to fix their cabins. But scarcely were they settled in their new abodes, before the axe of the pioneer again resounded in their ears, and the lodge of a squatter was seen rising in the distance. With the approach of the whites, retreated the game which was the sole support of the Indians, and again they plunged yet deeper into the recesses of the forest, and murmured not.

But when they began to find that one encroachment was but the prelude to another, and that patient endurance availed them nothing, suppressed murmurs were at first heard, then hoarser remonstrances, and finally out they spoke, talked of right and wrong, and denounced the whites as grasping and unjust, till the sparks of vengeance which were to kindle up a flame among the tribes, were then first blown abroad.

But setting aside the encroachments of the whites, there were other causes for their discontent; causes, which deeply agitated them, and stirred up in each one feelings of revenge. The treaty of Greenville, though seemingly just in its provisions, had been wrung from their necessities, and although at its conclusion, all the chiefs expressed themselves satisfied, and an opinion pervaded the country that a firm peace had been established, still there were many of the Indians in whose bosoms hatred against the whites was not extinguished, but continued to glow with a burning desire of vengeance. To them the treaty was but the smothering of a fire to keep it alive, and their sense of unavenged wrongs was like a secret volcano, consuming itself with its own fires, and accumulating the power to burst forth.—The warriors who entertained these feelings belonged to the tribe of the Shawanees, decidedly the most warlike on our continent, and had often fought first among the foremost, in many of the numerous conflicts in which their tribe had been engaged.—Those to whom we particularly allude, were present at the treaty of Greenville, and though too young to be allowed a voice in council, left it with disgust, and from that moment to the period of which we are writing, had been constantly brooding over the wrongs of their country. But now, when they viewed the continual encroachments of the whites, and saw, daily, their dominions invaded, and their hunting grounds lessened, they began to awaken to a sense of their danger, to breathe abroad a spirit of revenge, and urge their countrymen on to acts of violence.

To the causes of irritation which we have before enumerated as stimulating them to these measures must be added the breach of the treaty of Greenville, which had been so solemnly ratified, and which on the part of the Indians had been preserved inviolate. One of the stipulations of that humiliating compact, by which they had ceded so vast a territory, provided that all murderers should be surrendered to the party aggrieved, to be punished according to their respective laws or customs. In accordance with this provision, Indians were repeatedly given over to the United States' authorities, tried, convicted, and executed according to the judgment of their courts. But though many Indians had been shot in the most wanton and unprovoked manner by Americans, and a demand for the murderers often made, still they were never given over for punishment, nor was there even an instance in the courts, of a conviction for so atrocious a crime. This was the power of prejudice, and to such an extent was it carried, that the killing of an Indian by an American was scarcely regarded as indictable offence. Can it then be a matter of surprise, that in this state of things, they, with their ardent feelings and simple notions of justice, should be sometimes tempted to take the law into their own hands, and seek by bloody retaliation that redress, denied them by our courts, and the hostility of our people. Is it at all strange that murders were committed which began to increase to an alarming extent, and that the Indians, adopting our own tactics, should have endeavoured to screen the murderers?

But we have still to add for the Indians, another cause of exasperation. Many attempts had been made on the part of the whites, to purchase other portions of their land, from all the tribes assembled in general council. In this they had failed, and yet, several treaties had been concluded, and large districts of land conveyed to the United States, by a _single_ tribe, while the Indians generally regarded it as the common property, only to be alienated by all the tribes collectively. To annul these treaties, repeated applications had been made, but without success. These, with the long and unprovoked aggressions before mentioned, would have stirred up the deadliest hate of the most civilized people; then how could they otherwise than powerfully operate upon savages, marked by ferocity of disposition, and stubborn independence of character.

While this state of feeling was spreading rapidly among the Indians, emigration was in a great measure suspended, and fear was felt by all the border settlers. Nor were their apprehensions groundless, for it often happened that some adventurer, more daring than his companions, suddenly disappeared from his family, and was never again heard of. And scarcely would the excitement consequent upon these things subside, before acts still more alarming in their character were perpetrated, tending to unveil the mystery which hung over the fate of those who were lost; for the hunter would at times discover the mangled body of some emigrant who had been wantonly murdered, and left a prey to the beasts of the forest. When these things were told, terror and dismay filled the breasts of all, mothers pressed sleepless pillows, drew their infants still closer to their bosoms, and saw in troubled slumbers the blaze of their dwellings, while the war whoop of the savage would ring shrill in their ears. Yet it was but a dream.

At this time a great change was observable in the habits of the Indians; they no longer indulged in intoxicating liquors; gewgaws, which before possessed so many attractions in their eyes, were now disregarded; all intercourse with the whites was suddenly broken off, and rumour began to tell of secret councils, and midnight meetings in the depths of the forest. And then were heard dark hints, and enigmatical sayings, implying that they were invulnerable to the bullets of the whites, and were soon to repossess the lands of their fathers. Then came the tidings that a Prophet had arisen, who held daily converse with the Great Spirit, and ruled the tribes with an absolute sway. With this annunciation, the clouds of discontent, which had so long lain scattered in the horizon, began to unite, and settle in darkness over the west. At this period we commence our narrative.