History of the Ojibway Nation/Chapter 33
CHAPTER XXXIII.
ENDEAVORS OF THE BRITISH TO ENTICE THE OJIBWAYS OF LAKE SUPERIOR AND MISSISSIPPI TO JOIN THEIR ARMS IN THE WAR OF 1812.
It has been a general impression throughout the United States, that the Ojibways, as a tribe, fought under the flag of Great Britain, during the war of 1812. It is not so; and it can be stated as a fact, that of the nine thousand which this tribe number on Lake Superior, and the Mississippi, not more than one or two warriors are mentioned as having joined the British. There are several villages of Indians in Upper Canada, who are sometimes denominated as Ojibways, but who are more properly the remnants of the original Algonquins who have always been in the interest of the British, and aided them in their wars. The connection existing between these and the Lake Superior and Mississippi Ojibways, is not very close, though they speak the same language, and call one another relatives.
If any of the Ojibways living within the boundaries of the United States fought for the British during the last war, it was more through coercion than otherwise, and they belonged to small bands who lived among the Ottaways at Mackinaw, and who were scattered in Michigan among the Pottawatumies and other tribes. The main body of the tribe occupying Lake Superior, and the waters of the Mississippi firmly withstood every effort made by the British to induce them to enter into the war, and it is thus they have succeeded in holding their own in numbers, and in fact, gradually increasing, while other tribes, who have foolishly mingled in the wars of the whites, have become nearly extinct.
Agents were sent by the British government to the principal villages of the Ojibways, to invite them to join their arms against the Americans. Col. Dickson,[1] who had long been a trader amongst the Dakotas, and northern Ojibways, is mentioned as one of the most prominent and active of the British agents in levying the savage tribes, in an exterminating warfare against the men, women, and children of the United States.
He sent the British interpreter, St. Germain, in a light canoe, fully manned with Canadian voyageurs, from Fort William to Leech Lake, to obtain the co-operation of the Pillagers. He gave presents to Esh-ke-bug-e-coshe (Flat Mouth), the chief of the warlike band, and in public council he presented the wampum belts of the British agent, and delivered his message. The Pillager chieftain sent back the belts with the laconic answer: "When I go war against my enemies, I do not call on the whites to join my warriors. The white people have quarrelled among themselves, and I do not wish to meddle in their quarrels, nor do I intend ever, even to be guilty of breaking the window-glass of a white man's dwelling."
St. Germain next urged him to visit Col. Dickson at Ft. William, but the chief refused to go, and of all his warriors, but one obeyed the summons of the British agent. This one was a noted warrior named Ke-che-aun-o-guet, or Great Cloud, whose attachment had been secured by Col. Dickson, in the following characteristic manner:—
Great Cloud was one time, early in the spring, hunting in company with a Frenchman near Leaf Lake, while the Dakotas still claimed the country about it as their own. Early one morning, hearing the report of a gun towards Leaf Lake, Great Cloud told his comrade that he knew it must be the Dakotas, and he must go and see what they were about. Bidding the Frenchman good-bye, saying that he would try and return during the night, but not to wait for him longer than noon the next day, the Indian started on his dangerous expedition. Arriving at the outlet of Leaf River from the lake, he noticed some maple trees freshly tapped, and he soon fell on a beaten path, following which he soon discovered a log house, surrounded by a fence of felled trees. He hid by the roadside between the forks of a fallen tree, and there patiently awaited the appearance of some Dakota, whose scalp would add another eagle plume to his head-dress.
A woman came from the house to examine the maple trees, and gather the sap. She was dressed like a white man's squaw, and not wishing to kill a woman, Great Cloud did not molest her, but still continued in his ambush. Soon after, two other women, apparently mother and daughter, issued from the hut, came close to his hiding place, to gather sap. They were both apparently the women of some white man, as they were much cleaner and dressed far better than squaws usually are, and again the warrior refrained from attacking them. Towards evening he saw a man going towards the house, carrying some swans and ducks on his back, and Great Cloud prepared for an onset, but the hunter passed close to the lake shore, and out of bullet range. Tired of waiting, he at last crawled up to the house and posted himself directly in front of the gateway, amongst a clump of stumps. He saw a lodge standing within the inclosure on the other side of the house, and this he determined to watch till a Dakota should issue from it. It was now dusk, and he had remained in his new position but a moment, in fact had but just lighted his pipe, when the two women he had seen in the afternoon again came out of the house, and were examining a canoe which lay close to him, when they discovered the ambushed warrior. They immediately ran screaming into the house, from whence a white man with a large head of red hair soon issued, carrying a tremendous sword under his arm, and a gun in his hand. This was Col. Dickson. He walked up to Great Cloud, who was quietly smoking his pipe, and presenting his gun to his breast, demanded in broken Ojibway, "who he was, and what he wanted?"
The Indian answered, that "he was Great Cloud, an Ojibway warrior, and he had come to look for Dakota scalps." The trader then told him that the Dakotas were all gone, and that there was no one with him but a Menominee Indian. He inquired if there were any more of his people with him, and on answering in the negative, Dickson laughed, took Great Cloud by the hand, called him a brave man, and invited him into his house, where he was well treated. The Menominee Indian soon came in, and together they took a social smoke: Great Cloud related his adventures, and so pleased was his host at his having spared his women, that he gave him a flag and placed a medal on his breast, besides loading him with a present of goods.
On his return, Great Cloud found his French comrade had fled to Leech Lake, where he himself soon arrived, dressed as a chief, and instead of fur, loaded with merchandise, to the great surprise and wonder of his people. From this time he always showed a deep attachment to Col. Dickson, and though his people refused to recognize him as a chief, yet he always assumed the dignity and was treated as such by the British. Great Cloud proceeded to Fort William with St. Germain, and he was in nearly all the principal battles which took place between the British and Americans, during the last war, in Canada. He remained in the east some time after the closing of the war, and we find his name attached to most of the treaties which from this time the United States government made with the allied Ottaways, Pottawatumies, and eastern Ojibways, at Detroit, Vincennes, and Sault Ste. Marie.
Of the Ojibway half-breeds, John Baptiste and Michel, sons of Michel Cadotte, Sr., of La Pointe, were captured or enticed by the British of Isle Drummond, and there given the option, either to go into confinement during the war, or act as interpreters, and use their influence to collect the Ojibways. They accepted the latter alternative, and were actors in all the principal Canadian battles, and were present on the occasion of Tecumseh's death. John Baptiste was severely wounded, and is now[2] a pensioner on the British government. Michel is also living,[2] minus one arm, at La Pointe, on Lake Superior.
After the taking of Fort Howard, on the island of Mackinaw, the Ojibways of Lake Superior and the inland country towards the Mississippi, being deprived of their usual resident traders and supplies, congregated in unusual numbers on the island. The British took this occasion again to renew their attempts to induce them to join their arms. They, however, signally failed to make an impression on their minds, as the Ojibways were influenced by one of their principal chiefs, who was noted both for wisdom and great firmness of character. His name was Keesh-ke-mun, already mentioned in a previous chapter. On discovery that the councils of this chief was the cause of the failure of their attempts to induce the Ojibways to war against the Americans, the British officers sent for him to come to their council room. The chief obeyed the summons, accompanied by a numerous guard of his warriors. Michel Cadotte, Jr., acted as interpreter, and from his lips have these items and speeches been obtained by the writer.
The British officers, in full uniform, were all collected in the council room, when the Ojibway chieftain and his train entered and silently took the seats allotted to them. Mr. Askin, a British agent, opened the council by stating to the chief that his British father had sent for him, understanding that his councils with his red brethren had shut their ears against his words, and cooled their hearts towards him. "Your British father wishes to know who you are, that you should do these things—that you should dare to measure yourself against him." After an interval of silence, during which the chieftain quietly smoked his pipe, he at last arose, and shaking hands with the British commandant, he answered as follows:—
"Englishman! you ask me who I am. If you wish to know, you must seek me in the clouds. I am a bird who rises from the earth, and flies far up, into the skies, out of human sight; but though not visible to the eye, my voice is heard from afar, and resounds over the earth!
"Englishman! you wish to know who I am. You have never sought me, or you should have found and known me. Others have sought and found me. The old French sought and found me. He placed his heart within my breast. He told me that every morning I should look to the east and I would behold his fire, like the sun reflecting its rays towards me, to warm me and my children. He told me that if troubles assailed me, to arise in the skies and cry to him, and he would hear my voice. He told me that his fire would last forever, to warm me and my children.
"Englishman! you, Englishman, you have put out the fire of my French father. I became cold and needy, and you sought me not. Others have sought me. Yes, the Long Knife has found me. He has placed his heart on my breast. It has entered there, and there it will remain!"
The chieftain here pulled out from his decorated tobacco pouch, an American George Washington medal, which had been given him by a former commandant of Fort Howard, and placing it around his neck, it lay on his breast, as he quietly returned to his seat.
Somewhat excited at the vehement address of the chief, and at the act of seeming bravado which closed his harangue, the British officer replied to him:—
"You say true. I have put out the fire of the Frenchmen; and in like manner am I now putting out the fire of the Long Knife. With that medal on your breast, you are my enemy. You must give it up to me, that I may throw it away, and in its stead I shall give you the heart of your great British father, and you must stand and fight by his side."
Keesh-ke-mun, without arising from his seat, answered:
"Englishman! the heart of the Long Knife, which he placed on my breast, has entered my bosom. You cannot take it from me without taking my life."
The officer, exasperated at the unflinching firmness of the chieftain, now exclaimed, in anger, addressing the interpreter: "Tell him, sir, that he must give up his medal, or I shall detain him a prisoner within the walls of this fort." This threat, being duly interpreted to him, the chief grasped his medal in his hand, and once more arising from his seat, he addressed the excited officer, himself not showing the least marks of emotion:—
"Englishman! I shall not give up this medal of my own will. If you wish to take it from me, you are stronger than I am. But I tell you, it is but a mere bauble. It is only an emblem of the heart which beats in my bosom; to cut out which you must first kill me! Englishman! you say, that you will keep me a prisoner in this your strong house. You are stronger than I am. You can do as you say. But remember that the voice of the Crane echoes afar off, and when he summons his children together, they number like the pebbles on the Great Lake shore!"
After a short consultation between the officers and Mr. Askin, the commandant again addressed the chief:—
"Your words are big, but I fear them not. If you refuse to give up the medal of the Long Knives, you are my enemy, and you know I do not allow my enemies to live."
The chief answered: "Englishman! you are stronger than I am. If you consider me an enemy because I cherish the heart which has been placed on my bosom, you may do so. If you wish to take my life, you can take it. I came into your strong house because you sent for me. You sent for me wishing to set me on to my father the Long Knife, as a hunter sets his dogs on a deer. I cannot do as you wish. I cannot strike my own father. He, the Long Knife, has not yet told us to fight for him. Had he done so, you Englishmen would not now be in this strong house. The Long Knife counsels us to remain quiet. In this do we know that he is our own father, and that he has confidence in the strength of his single arm."
After some further consultation among the officers, who could not help admiring his great firmness, the chief was dismissed. The next morning, Michel Cadotte (his grandson), was again sent to him to call him to council. Keesh-ke-mun, with a score of his warriors again presented themselves. A large pile of goods and tobacco was placed before him. Mr. Askin addressed him as follows:—
"Your English father has not sent for you to take your life. You have refused to accept the badge of his heart. You have refused to join him in putting out the fire of the Long Knives who are stealing away your country. Yet he will not detain you. He will not hurt a hair of your head. He tells you to return to your village in peace. He gives you wherewith to warm your children for the coming winter. But he says to you, remain quiet—remember if you join the Long Knives, we shall sweep your villages from the earth, as fire eats up the dry grass on the prairie."
Keesh-ke-mun, without answering a word, accepted the presents and returned to his village. To his influence may be chiefly attributed the fact that the Ojibways of Lake Superior and Mississippi remained neutral during the progress of the last war.
Another anecdote is told by my informant, who acted as the British interpreter for the Ojibways during the last war; which further illustrates the attachment which this tribe had conceived for the American people.
About the same time that Keesh-ke-mun so firmly withstood the inducements and threats of the British officers at Fort Howard, We-esh-coob, the war-chief of the Pillagers, with a party of his people from Leech Lake, happened to be present at the island of Michilimacinac. He was vainly urged by the British agents to join their arms with his band of warriors, who were noted as being the bravest of the Ojibway tribe. At a council held within the fort, this chief was asked, for the last time, by the British commandant, to array himself under their flag. We-esh-coob, in more decided terms than ever, refused, and his words so exasperated the commandant, that he rose from his seat, and forgot himself so far as to say to the Pillagers:—
"I thought you were men, but I see that you are but women, not fit even to wear the breech-cloth. Go back to your homes. I do not wish the assistance of women. Go, put on the clothing which more befits you, and remain quiet in your villages."
As he delivered this violent speech, he was proceeding to leave the council room, when We-esh-coob, having quietly listened to the interpretation thereof, rose to his feet, and approaching the angry Englishman, he put his hand on his epaulette and gently held him back. "Wait," said he, "you have spoken; now let me speak. You say that we should not wear the breech-cloth, but the dress of women." Then pointing to the opposite shore of the lake, towards the site of the old English fort which the Ojibways had taken in 1763, We-esh-coob exclaimed:—
"Englishman! have you already forgotten that we once made you cry like children? yonder! who was the woman then?
"Englishman! you have said that we are women. If you doubt our manhood, you have young men here in your strong house. I have also young men. You must come out on some open place, and we will fight. You will better know, whether we are fit, or not, to wear the breech-cloth.
"Englishman! you have said words which the ears of We-esh-coob have never before heard," and throwing down his blanket in great excitement, he pointed to different scars on his naked body, and exclaimed: "I thought I carried about me the marks which proved my manhood."
The English officer whose irritation had somewhat abated during the delivery of this answer, grasped the unusually excited Indian by the hand, and requested the interpreter to beg him to forget his hasty words. Peace and good-will were thus restored, but this bitter taunt tended greatly to strengthen the minds of the Ojibway's against the agents who were continually engaged amongst them, to draw them into the war.