After throwing a war-belt into the midst of the council, he concluded in the following strain:
"My Brothers! I begin to grow tired of this bad meat, which is upon our lands. I begin to see that this is not your case, for instead of assisting us in our war with the English, you are actually assisting them. I have already told you, and I now tell you again, that when I undertook this war, it was only your interest I sought, and that I knew what I was about. I yet know what I am about. This year they must all perish. The Master of Life so orders it. His will is known to us, and we must do as he says. And you, my brothers, who know him better than we do, wish to oppose his will! Until now, I have avoided urging you upon this subject, in the hope, that if you could not aid, you would not injure us. I did not wish to ask you to fight with us against the English, and I did not believe you would take part with them. You will say you are not with them. I know it, but your conduct amounts to the same thing. You will tell them all we do and say. You carry our counsels and plans to them. Now take your choice. You must be entirely French, like ourselves, or entirely English. If you are French, take this belt for yourselves and your young men, and join us. If you are English, we declare war against you." . . .
The man who had the ability and the intrepidity to express himself in this manner, hardly needed either the graces of rhetoric or the powers of the warrior, to enforce that mighty influence which, among every people and under all circumstances, is attached, as closely as shadow to substance, to the energies of a mighty mind. Those energies he exerted, and that influence he possessed, probably beyond all precedent in the history of his race. Hence it is that his memory is still cherished among the tribes of the north. History itself, instead of adding to his character in their eyes, has only reduced him to his true proportions in our own. Tradition still looks upon him as it looked upon the Hercules of the Greeks.
Account of the Delawares—Their ancient great men, including Tamenend—History daring the Revolutionary War—Two Parties among them—White-Eyes, leader of one, and Captain Pipe, of the other—Manœuvres, speeches, plots and counter-plots of these men, their parties, and foreigners connected with both—Anecdotes—Death of White-Eyes in 1780—Tribute of respect paid to his memory.
The most formidable antagonist the Five Nations ever had to contend with, were the Delawares, as the English have named them (from Lord de la War) but generally styled by their Indian neighbors, Wapanachi, and by themselves Lenni Lenape, or the Original People. The tradition is, that they and the Five Nations both emigrated from beyond the Mississippi, and, by uniting their forces, drove off or destroyed the primitive residents of the country on this side. Afterwards, the Delawares divided themselves into three tribes, called the Turtle, the Turkey, and the Wolf or Monsey. Their settlements extended from the Hudson to the Potomac; and their descendants finally became so numerous, that nearly forty tribes honored them with the title of Grand-father, which some of them continue to apply at the present day.
The Delawares were the principal inhabitants of Pennsylvania, when William Penn commenced his labors in that region; and the memory of Miquon, their Elder Brother, as they called him, is still cherished in the legends of all that remains of the nation. That remnant exists chiefly on the western banks of the Mississippi, to which ancient starting-place they have been gradually approximating, stage by stage, ever since the arrival of the Europeans on the coast. Their principal intermediate settlements have been in Ohio, on the banks of the Muskingum, and other small rivers, whither a great number of the tribe removed about the year 1760.
The Delawares have never been without their great men, though unfortunately many of them have lived at such periods and such places, as to make it impossible for history to do them justice. It is only within about a century last past, during which they have been rapidly declining in power and diminishing in numbers, that a series of extraordinary events, impelling them into close contact with the whites, as well as with other Indians, has had the effect of bringing forward their extraordinary men.
Among the ancient Delaware worthies, whose career is too imperfectly known to us to be the subject of distinct sketches, we shall mention only the name of the illustrious Tamenend. This individual stands foremost in the list of all the great men of his nation in any age. He was a mighty warrior, an accomplished statesman, and a pure and high-minded patriot. In private life he was still more distinguished for his virtues, than in public for his talents. His countrymen could only account for the perfections they ascribed to him, by supposing him to be favored with the special communications of the Great Spirit. Ages have elapsed since his death, but his memory was so fresh among the Delawares of the last century, that when Colonel Morgan, of New-Jersey, was sent as an agent among them by Congress, during the Revolution, they conferred on him the title of Tamenend, as the greatest mark of respect they could show for the manners and character of that gentleman; and he was known by his Indian appellation ever afterwards.
About this time, the old chieftain had so many admirers among the whites also, that they made him a saint, inserted his name in calendars, and celebrated his festival on the first day of May, yearly. On that day a numerous society of his votaries walked in procession through the streets of Philadelphia, their hats decorated with bucks'-tails, and proceeded to a sylvan rendezvous out of town, which they called the Wigwam, where, after a long talk or speech had been delivered, and the Calumet of friendship passed around, the remainder of the day was spent in high festivity. A dinner was prepared, and Indian dances performed on the green. The custom ceased a few years after the conclusion of peace, and though other "Tammany" associations have since existed, they retain little of the model they were formed upon but the name.
The commencement of the Revolutionary war was among the Delawares, as among their more civilized neighbors, a period of great excitement. Strong efforts were made by the British authorities on the northern frontier, and yet stronger ones by individual refugees and vagabonds in the British interest, to prejudice them against the American people, and to induce them to make common cause with their "Father" over the "Big Water," in correcting the sins of his disobedient children. Congress, on the other hand, contented itself with keeping them, as far and as long as possible, in a state of neutrality. In consequence of these opposite influences, and of old prepossessions entertained by various parties and persons in the nation, a violent struggle ensued,—for war on one side, and for peace on the other—in the course of which were developed some of the most remarkable individual traits and diplomatic manœuvres which we have yet had occasion to notice.
The leader of the peace-party was Koguethagechton, called by the Americans Captain White-Eyes. He was the Head-Chief of the Turtle tribe in Ohio; while Captain Pipe, of the Wolf tribe, living and having his council-fire at the distance of fifteen miles northward from the former, devoted his talents to promoting the plan of a belligerent union with the British. Accidental circumstances,—such as old wrongs, or at least imagined ones, from the Americans, on one side, and old favors on the other,—no doubt had their effect in producing this diversity of feeling; but the ambition and jealousy of Pipe,—whose spirit, otherwise noble, was of that haughty order, that he would not "have served in heaven" when he might "reign" elsewhere in the universe—are believed to have gone farther than any other cause, both to create and keep up dissensions among the Delawares, and disturbances between them and the whites. Pipe, as even the good Heckewelder allows, was certainly a great man, but White-Eyes was still both his superior and his senior, besides having the advantage of a clean cause and a clear conscience.
Pipe, like other politicians, uniformly professed his readiness, from time to time, to join in any measures proper to "save the nation;" but the difficulty as uniformly occurred, that these were precisely the same measures which White-Eyes thought would destroy it. The former, like most of the Wolf tribe, whose temperament he had studied, was warlike, energetic, and restless. He brooded over old resentments,—he panted for revenge,—he longed for the coming of an era which should turn "rogues" out of office, and bring "honest men" in. With these feelings, his ingenuity could not be long without adequate arguments and artifices to operate on the minds of his countrymen. Their most remarkable effect, however, it soon became manifest, was to attach them to himself rather than to any particular principles. They were as ready to fight as men need be; but Pipe was expected to monopolize the thinking and talking.
For the better understanding of the principles of the Peace-party, we shall here introduce the exposition made by White-Eyes and others, of the character of the contest between the English and the Americans. Its effect was to convince the Indians, that they had no concern with either, while their welfare clearly suggested the policy, as well as propriety, of maintaining amicable terms with both.
"Suppose a father," it was said, "had a little son whom he loved and indulged while young, but growing up to be a youth, began to think of having some help from him; and making up a small pack, bade him carry it for him. The boy cheerfully takes this pack, following his father with it. The rather, finding the boy willing and obedient, continues in this way; and as the boy grows stronger, so the father makes the pack in proportion larger—yet as long as the boy is able to carry the pack, he does so without grumbling. At length, however, the boy having arrived at manhood, while the father is making up the pack for him, in comes a person of an evil disposition, and learning who was the carrier of the pack, advises the father to make it heavier, for surely the son is able to carry a large pack. The father, listening rather to the bad adviser, than consulting his own judgment and the feelings of tenderness, follows the advice of the hardhearted adviser, and makes up a heavy load for his son to carry. The son, now grown up, examining the weight of the load he is to carry, addresses the parent in these words: 'Dear father, this pack is too heavy for me to carry, do pray lighten it; I am willing to do what I can, but am unable to carry this load.' The father's heart having by this time become hardened—and the bad adviser calling to him, 'whip him if he disobeys and refuses to carry the pack,' now in a peremptory tone orders his son to take up the pack and carry it off, or he will whip him, and already takes up a stick to beat him. 'So!' says the son, 'am I to be served thus, for not doing what I am unable to do! Well if entreaties avail nothing with you, father—and it is to be decided by blows, whether or not I am able to carry a pack so heavy—-then I have no other choice left me, but that of resisting your unreasonable demand, by my strength; and so, by striking each other, we may see who is the strongest.'"
But this doctrine, however sound, did not prove wholly effectual against the exertions of Pipe, who was continually either making movements, or taking advantage of such as occurred, to disparage the influence of his rival, and, of course, to extend and establish his own. He contradicted whatever was said, and counteracted whatever was done by White-Eyes; until the whole system of intercourse of the Delawares with each other and with other nations, became a labrynth of inconsistencies and counter-plots.
About the commencement of the war, White-Eyes; with some of his tribe, visited the Americans at Pittsburg, where they met in conference with a number of the Seneca tribe, a people particularly attached to the British interest at that time. The object of their visit probably was to ascertain and perhaps influence the politics of the Delawares; and they relied much on the power of the great confederacy to which they belonged. Not only, however, did they fail to overawe White-Eyes, politically or personally; but they could not prevent him from publicly advocating the principles he avowed. So angry were they at a speech he addressed to the meeting at Pittsburg, that they undertook to check him by hinting, in an insolent and sullen manner, that it ill became him to express himself thus independently, whose tribe were but women, and had been made such by the Five Nations—alluding to an old reproach which had often before this been used to humiliate the Delawares.
Frequently it had that effect. But White-Eyes was not of a temper to brook an insult, under any circumstances. With an air of the most haughty disdain, he sat patiently until the Senecas had done, and then rose and replied:
"I know," said he gravely, "I know well, that you consider us a conquered nation—as women—as your inferiors. You have, say you, shortened our legs, and put petticoats on us! You say you have given us a hoe and a corn-pounder, and told us to plant and pound for you—you men—you warriors! But look at me. Am I not full-grown, and have I not a warrior's dress? Aye, I am a man, and these are the arms of a man, [showing his musket]—and all that country, [waving hand proudly in the direction of the Allegheny river] all that country, on the other side of that water, is mine," [FN]
[FN] Speaking, according to common custom, in the name of the nation.
A more courageous address was perhaps never made to any Council of Indians. Indeed, it went so beyond the spirit of his tribe, apprehensive as they were of the indignation of the powerful people he had thus bearded, that, although many were gratified, many others were frightened,—or, perhaps, at Pipe's instigation, pretended to be frightened,—out of the ranks of the Peace-party into those of the War. The Monseys took the lead in that movement, and they even humiliated themselves so much as to send word to the Five Nations that they disapproved of what White-Eyes had said. Pipe, about the same time, left off attending the councils of the Turtle tribe, which he had hitherto done regularly,—probably from a conviction that his intrigues were becoming daily more manifest,—and he also endeavored to circulate an impression that White-Eyes had made secret engagements with the Americans, with the view of aggrandizing himself at the expense of his countrymen.
The latter, meanwhile, was laboring, night and day, to preserve peace among the tribes, by sending embassies, and by other energetic measures. In some places, he succeeded, but in others the manœuvres of his adversary prevailed. A message sent to the Sandusky Wyandots, in 1776, was insolently answered by a hint to the Delawares, "to keep good shoes in readiness for joining the warriors." White-Eyes himself headed a deputation to a settlement of the same people near Detroit. They however refused to receive his peace-belts, except in presence of the British Governor at that station; and he, when they were tendered in his presence, seized them violently, cut them in pieces, threw them at the feet of the Deputies, and then told White-Eyes, that "if he set any value on his head, he must be gone within half an hour."
Such indefatigable efforts were made by the war-party, and by those foreigners who co-operated with them, especially in circulating reports unfavorable to the American character and cause, that White-Eyes was very near being sacrificed to the hot-headed rashness of his own followers. In March, 1778, a number of tones of infamous character, having escaped from Pittsburg, told the Indians, wherever they went, that the Americans were coming upon them from all quarters; and that now was the time, and the only time, for saving themselves, by commencing active hostilities. The Delawares were filled with consternation, and, for a day or two, White-Eyes was unable to stem the torrent of popular feeling. But he recovered his influence as they recovered their composure; and well knowing that his conduct in this affair would be closely watched by his rival, he called a general council of the nation, in which he proposed to delay committing hostilities against the American people for ten days, during which time they might obtain more certain information as to the truth of the assertions of these men. Pipe, considering this a proper time for placing White-Eyes in the back-ground, construed his wise and prudent advice as though he was in the secret, and now proposed to his own council, "to declare every man an enemy to the nation, that should throw an obstacle in the way, that might tend to prevent the taking up arms instantly against the American people."
White-Eyes perceived that the blow was aimed at himself; but he parried it by immediately assembling and addressing his party by themselves; "If you will go out in this war," said he, observing the preparations of some of them, "you shall not go without me. I have taken peace measures, it is true, with the view of saving my tribe from destruction. But if you think me in the wrong, if you give more credit to runaway vagabonds than to your own friends, to a man, to a warrior, to a Delaware,—if you insist upon fighting the Americans,—go! and I will go with you. And I will not go like the bear-hunter, who sets his dogs upon the animal to be beaten about with his paws, while he keeps himself at a safe distance. No! I will lead you on. I will place myself in the front I will fall with the first of you! You can do as you choose, but as for me I will not survive my nation. I will not live to bewail the miserable destruction of a brave people, who deserved, as you do, a better fate."
This spirited harangue had the desired effect. The assembly declared, with all the enthusiasm which a grave Indian council are ever willing to manifest, that they would at least wait the ten days, as he wished. Some added that they would never fight the Americans, but with him for a leader.
But Pipe and his party redoubled their efforts, and before the appointed term had expired, many of the Delawares had shaved their heads in readiness for the war-plume; and White-Eyes, though his request for delay was still attended to, was threatened with a violent death if he should say one word for the American interest. On the ninth day, vigorous preparations were made for sending out war-parties, and no news had yet arrived to abate the excitement.
At this critical juncture it happened that the German missionary, Mr. Heckewelder, with some attendants, had arrived among the Christian Delawares in the neighborhood of Goschocking, the settlement of White-Eyes, from Pittsburg. He became an eye and ear witness of the sequel of the affair, and we shall therefore avail ourselves of his narrative.
"Finding the matter so very pressing, and even not admitting of a day's delay, I consented, that after a few hours' rest and sleep, and furnished with a trusty companion and a fresh horse, I would proceed on, when between three and four o'clock in the morning, the national assistant, John Martin, having called on me for the purpose, we set out, swimming our horses across the Muskingum river, and taking a circuit through the woods in order to avoid the encampment of the war-party, which was close to our path. Arriving by ten o'clock in the forenoon within sight of the town, a few yells were given by a person who had discovered us, intended to notify the inhabitants that a white man was coming, and which immediately drew the whole body of Indians into the streets; but although I saluted them in passing them, not a single person returned the compliment, which, as my conductor observed, was no good omen. Even Captain White-Eyes, and the other chiefs who always had befriended me, now stepped back when I reached out my hand to them, which strange conduct however did not dismay me, as I observed among the crowd some men well known to me as spies of Captain Pipe's, watching the actions of these peace-chiefs, wherefore I was satisfied that the act of refusing me the hand, had been done from policy, and not from any ill will towards my person. Indeed, in looking around, I thought I could read joy in the countenances of many of them, in seeing me among them at so critical a juncture, when they, but a few days before, had been told by those deserters, that nothing short of their total destruction had been resolved upon by the 'long knives' (the Virginians, or new American people.) Yet as no one would reach out his hand to me, I inquired into the cause, when Captain White-Eyes boldly stepping forward, replied; 'that by what had been told them by those men, (McKee and party,) they no longer had a single friend among the American people; if therefore this be so, they must consider every white man who came to them from that side, as an enemy, who only came to them to deceive them, and put them off their guard, for the purpose of giving the enemy an opportunity of taking men by surprise.' I replied, that the imputation was unfounded, and that, were I not their friend, they never would have seen me here. 'Then, (continued Captain White-Eyes,) you will tell us the truth with regard to what I state to you!'—Assuring him of this, he, in a strong tone, asked me: 'Are the American armies all cut to pieces by the English troops? Is General Washington killed? Is there no more a Congress, and have the English hung some of them, and taken the remainder to England, to hang them there? Is the whole country beyond the mountains in the possession of the English; and are the few thousand Americans who have escaped them, now embodying themselves on this side of the mountains, for the purpose of killing all the Indians in this country, even our women and children? Now do not deceive us, but speak the truth' (added he;) 'is this all true, what I have said to you?' I declared before the whole assembly, that not one word of what he had just now told me was true, and holding out to him, as I had done before, the friendly speeches sent by me for them, which he however as yet refused to accept, I thought by the countenances of most of the by-standers, that I could perceive that the moment bid fair for their listening at least to the contents of those speeches, and accidentally catching the eye of the drummer, I called to him to beat the drum for the Assembly to meet for the purpose of hearing what their American Brethren had to say to them! A general smile having taken place, White-Eyes thought the favorable moment arrived to put the question, and having addressed the assembly in these words: 'Shall we, my friends and relatives, listen once more to those who call us their brethren?' Which question, being loudly and as with one voice answered in the affirmative, the drum was beat, and the whole body quickly repairing to the spacious council-house, the speeches, all of which were of the most pacific nature, were read and interpreted to them, when Captain White-Eyes rose, and in an elaborate address to the Assembly, took particular notice of the good disposition of the American people towards the Indians, observing, that they had never as yet, called on them to fight the English, knowing that wars were destructive to nations, and they had from the beginning of the war to the present time, always advised them (the Indians) to remain quiet, and not take up the hatchet against either side. A newspaper, containing the capitulation of General Burgoyne's army, being found enclosed in the packet, Captain White-Eyes once more rose up, and holding this paper unfolded, with both his hands, so that all could have a view of it, said, 'See, my friends and relatives, this document containeth great events, not the song of a bird, but the truth!'—then, stepping up to me, he gave me his hand, saying, 'you are welcome with us, brother;' when every one present followed his example."
Thus White-Eyes again triumphed over his rival; and the chagrin of the latter was the more keen, because, relying on the improved prospects of his party, he had recently committed himself more openly than ever before. But the spies whom he kept constantly at Goschocking, now brought him the doleful news that the predictions of White-Eyes were all verified. That Chieftain himself completed his success by sending runners, immediately after the Council broke up, to the Shawanese towns on the Scioto, where the Tories had already gone for the purpose of trying their game upon that tribe. "Grand-children!" was the laconic message, "ye Shawanese! Some days ago a flock of birds from the East lit at Goschocking, singing a song here which had well nigh proved our ruin. Should these birds, which, on leaving us, took their flight towards Scioto, endeavor to impose their song on you, do not listen to them, for they lie!"
But White-Eyes was not destined to enjoy the result of his labors. In the winter of 1779-80, he visited Pittsburg, for the purpose of consulting with the Indian Agent on the means suitable for preserving peace. He accompanied General McIntosh and his army to Tuscarowas, (where a fort was to be built for the protection of the neutral Indians,) took the small-pox at that place, and soon died.
The event produced a sensation almost unprecedented in the Delaware tribe, and throughout a wide region in their vicinity. The intelligence was sent to various confederate or relative tribes, at the distance of hundreds of miles, and counter deputations of condolence soon came in from all quarters. We shall close this chapter with Mr. Heckewelder's account of the embassy of the Cherokees, which strikingly indicates the reputation acquired by White-Eyes during his life, as well as the great respect subsequently paid to his memory.
The deputation, consisting of fourteen men, of whom two were principal chiefs, were accompanied from their country to Goschocking, by a nephew of the late Captain White-Eyes, who, soon after the commencement of the American revolution, had been despatched thither by the Delaware Chiefs, for the purpose of using his endeavors in keeping that nation at peace. When this deputation had arrived within three miles of Goschocking, and within one of Lichtenau, they made a halt for the purpose of having the customary ceremony performed on them. This was done by one of the councilors from the village, who, by an address and with a string of wampum, drew the thorns and briars out of their legs and feet; healed the sores and bruises they had received by hitting against logs; wiped the dust and sweat off their bodies; and cleansed their eyes and ears, so that they might both see and hear well; and finally anointed all their joints, that their limbs might again become supple. [FN] They were then served with victuals brought from Lichtenau, and they continued there the remainder of that day.
[FN] All which ceremonies are performed figuratively.
On the next morning, two of the councilors from Goschocking, deputed for the purpose, informed the missionary and national assistants at Lichtenau, that, by order of their Chiefs, they were to conduct the Cherokee deputation into their village, from whence they were expected to join in the procession to Goschocking, and there attend the condoling ceremonies; all which being agreed to, these soon brought them on, one leading them in front, and the other bringing up the rear.
Arriving within about two hundred yards of the town, and in sight of it, (all marching Indian file), they fired off their pieces, which compliment was instantly returned by the young men or the town, drawn up for the purpose; then raising a melancholy song, they continued singing, until they had reached the long house, purposely built for their reception; yet not without first having lodged their arms against some trees they had passed, at a small distance from the town. Being seated on benches prepared for the purpose—(the deputies on the opposite side,)—a dead silence prevailed for about half an hour, and all present cast their eyes on the ground. At length one of these Chiefs, named the Crow, rose, and with an air of sorrow, and in a low voice, with his eyes cast up to heaven, spoke to the following effect:
"One morning, after having arisen from my sleep, and according to my custom, I stepped out at the door to see what weather we had. I observed at one place in the horizon a dark cloud projecting above the trees; and looking steadfastly for its movement or disappearance, found myself mistaken, since it neither disappeared nor moved from the spot, as other clouds do. Seeing the same cloud successively every morning, and that always in the same place, I began to think what could be the cause of this singular phenomenon; at length it struck me, that as the cloud was lying in the direction that my grandfather dwelt, something might be the matter with him, which caused him grief. Anxious to satisfy myself, I resolved to goto my grandfather, and see if any thing was the matter with him. I accordingly went, steering a course in the direction I had observed the cloud to be. I arrived at my grandfather's, whom I found quite disconsolate, hanging his head and the tears running down his cheeks! Casting my eyes around in the hopes of discovering the cause of his grief, I observed yonder a dwelling closed up, and from which no smoke [FN-1] appeared to ascend! Looking in another direction, I discovered an elevated spot of fresh earth, [FN-2] on which nothing was seen growing; and here I found the cause of my grandfather's grief. No wonder he is so grieved! No wonder he is weeping and sobbing, with his eyes cast towards the ground!—Even I cannot help weeping with my grandfather, seeing in what a situation he is! I cannot proceed for grief!"
[FN-1] Meaning no person occupying the house.
[FN-2] The grave.
Here, after having seated himself for about twenty minutes, as though deeply afflicted, he again arose, and receiving from the principal chief, who was seated by his side, a large string of wampum, said: "Grandfather! Lift up your head and hear what your grand-children have to say to you! These having discovered the cause of your grief, it shall be done away! See, grandfather! I level the ground on yonder spot of yellow earth, [FN-1] and put leaves and brush thereon to make it invisible! I also sow seeds on that spot, so that both grass and trees may grow thereon!" (Here handing the string to the Delaware Chiefs in succession, and taking up another, he continued:) "Grandfather!—The seed which I had sown has already taken root; nay, the grass has already covered the ground, and the trees are growing!" (Handing this string, likewise to the Delaware Chief, and taking up a third string of wampum, he added:) "Now, my grandfather, the cause of your grief being removed, let me dry up your tears! I wipe them from your eyes! I place your body, which, by the weight of grief and a heavy heart, is leaning to one side, in its proper posture! Your eyes shall be henceforth clear, and your ears open as formerly! The work is now finished!" Handing this string likewise to the Delaware Chief, he now stepped forward to where the Chief and his Councilors were seated, and having first shaken hands with these, he next did the same with all present, the whole embassy following his example. This being done, and all again seated as before, the Delaware Chief, Gelelemend, [FN-2] replied:
[FN-1] The grave.
[FN-2] Commonly called Kill-Buck.
"Grand-children!—You did not come here in vain! You have performed a good work, in which the Great Spirit assisted you! Your Grandfather makes you welcome with him."
The meeting, having continued nearly three hours, then broke up. On the day following, the Chiefs of both nations entered on business relating to their national concerns, and finally made a mutual covenant for the continued maintenance of the party and principles of White-Eyes.
It is honorable to the American Congress that after the decease of their best friend among the Indians, they took measures for the maintenance and education of his son. On the journals of that body, under date of June 20th, 1785, is the following passage:
"Resolved, That Mr. Morgan [Tamenend, probably,] be empowered and requested to continue the care and direction of George White-Eyes for one year, and that the Board of Treasury take order for the payment of the expenses necessary to carry into execution the views of Congress in this respect."
The journal of December, 1775, records an interview of Congress with the father.
Observations on the character of White-Eyes—Pipe's comment on his death—The latter gains and sustains an ascendancy in the Delaware nation—Glickkican, Netawatwees and Wingemund—Subsequent career of Pipe—Joins the British and fights against the Americans—Grand Indian council at Detroit—Pipe's spirited speech on that occasion—Makes charges against the Missionaries, but fails to prove them—Remarks on his habits, principles and talents.
The feet that Captain Pipe and his associates began to gain the ascendancy in the Delaware nation immediately on the death of his great antagonist, and that they afterwards supported it with almost uninterrupted success, is alone sufficient to indicate the influence and character of White-Eyes. Indeed, Pipe himself paid to his memory the compliment of declaring, with a solemn air, that "the Great Spirit had probably put him out of the way, that the nation might be saved." That sagacious personage was well aware that neither Kill-Buck, nor Big-Cat, nor Glickkican, [FN] nor even all together, would adequately occupy the station of the deceased Chieftain.
[FN] "The sight of a gun-barrel," and afterwards baptised by the Moravians, and named Isaac. He was Chief Councilor and Speaker of the old Sachem, Pakanke, who ruled over the Delawares at Kaskaskunk (in Ohio,) and was a man of uncommon military and oratorical talent. After his own christianization, he was a highly efficient advocate and patron of the Christian party. Having thereby, as well as by his spirit and influence, become obnoxious to their enemies during the Revolution, several attempts were made to overawe, bribe and destroy him; but they all failed. At length a considerable party was fitted out, in 1781, for the express purpose of taking him prisoner. They found him at Salem, but doubting whether the old warrior's pacific principles would assure their safety, they dared not enter his hut. He saw some of them before long from a window, and instantly stepped out, and called to them. "Friends!" said he, "by your manœuvres I conclude you are come for me. If so, why do you hesitate;—Obey your orders; I am ready to submit. You seem to fear old Glickkican. Ah! there was a time when I would have scorned to submit to such cowardly slaves. But I am no more Glickkican, I am Isaac, a believer in the true God, and for his sake I will suffer anything, even death." Seeing them still hesitate, he stepped up to them with his hands placed upon his back. "There!" he continued, "you would tie me if you dared—tie me, then, and take me with you—I am ready." They now mustered courage to do as he directed. Soon after, Glickkican was murdered, with a large number of his Christian countrymen, by a banditti of American ruffians who suspected, or pretended to suspect them, of hostile designs. Probably the result was brought about by the machinations of his Indian enemies.
White-Eyes was distinguished as much for his milder virtues as for his courage and energy; and as to his friendly disposition towards the Americans, particularly, on which some imputations were industriously thrown by his enemies, we could desire no better evidence of its sincerity than are still extant In that curious document, the Journal of Frederic Post, [FN] who, as early as 1758, was sent among the Ohio Delawares by the Governor of one of the States, for the purpose of inducing them to renounce the French alliance, is recorded, the "speech" which Post carried back, and the closing paragraphs of which were as follows:—
[FN] In Prond's History of Pennsylvania.
"Brethren, when you have settled this peace and friendship, and finished it well, and you send the great peace-belt to me, I will send it to all the nations of my colour; they will all join to it, and we all will hold it fast.
"Brethren, when all the nations join to this friendship, then the day will begin to shine clear over us. When we hear once more of you, and we join together, then the day will be still, and no wind, or storm, will come over us, to disturb us.
"Now, Brethren, you know our hearts, and what we have to say; be strong, if you do what we have now told you, and in this peace all the nations agree to join. Now, Brethren, let the king of England know what our mind is as soon as possibly you can."
Among the subscribers to this speech appears the name of White-Eyes, under the form of the Indian term Cochguacawkeghton; nor have we met with any proof that he ever from that time wavered for a moment in his attachment to the American interest, as opposed first to the French, and afterwards to the English. Post himself, in 1762, was permitted to build a house on the banks of the Muskingum, where he had a lot of land given him, about a mile distant from the village of White-Eyes; and so, when Heckewelder first visited that country, during the same season, he informs us that, "the War-Chief Koguethagechtan," kindly entertained and supplied him and his party.
About the beginning of the Revolutionary war, when some of the Indians were much exasperated by murders and trespasses which certain civilized ruffians committed on the frontiers, an Ohio trader was met and massacred in the woods by a party of Senecas, who, having in their rage cut up the body and garnished the bushes with the remains, raised the scalp-yell and marched off in triumph. White-Eyes being in the vicinity and hearing the yell, instantly commenced a search for the body, the remnants of which he collected and buried. The party returned on the following day, and observing what had been done, privately opened the grave, and scattered the contents more widely than before. But White-Eyes was this time on the watch for them. He repaired to the spot again the moment they left it, succeeded in finding every part of the mangled body, and then carefully interred it in a grave dug with his own hands, where it was at length suffered to repose unmolested.
It was about the same time when this affair happened, that the Chieftain saved the life of one Duncan, an American peace-messenger, whom he had undertaken to escort through a section of the wilderness. A hostile Shawanee was upon the point of discharging his musket at Duncan from behind a tree, when White-Eyes rushed forward, regardless of his own peril. And compelled the savage to desist. In 1777, Heckewelder had occasion to avail himself of a similar kindness. Rather rashly, as he acknowledges, he that year undertook to traverse the forests from the Muskingum to Pittsburg, wishing to visit his English friends in that quarter. White-Eves resided at a distance of seventeen miles, but hearing of his intended journey, he immediately came to see him, accompanied by another Chief named Wingemund, [FN] and by several of his young men.
[FN] A noted religious impostor.
These, he said, his good friend, the Missionary, should have as an escort. And moreover he must needs go himself: "He could not suffer me to go," says that gentlemen, "while the Sandusky warriors were out on war-excursions, without a proper escort and himself at my side." And it should be observed, that besides the Sandusky savages, there were several other tribes who had already engaged on the British side, and were spreading death and desolation along the whole of the American frontier. The party set out together, and reached their destination in safety. An alarm occurred only on one occasion, when the scouts discovered a suspicious track, and report was made accordingly. White-Eyes, who was riding before his friend, while Wingemund brought up the rear, turned about and asked if he felt afraid? "No!" said the Missionary, "not while you are with me." "You are right," quickly rejoined White-Eyes. "You are right; no man shall harm you, till I am laid prostrate." "Nor even then," added Wingemund, "for they must conquer me also—they must lay us side by side." Mr. Heckewelder certainly did them but justice in believing that both would have redeemed their promises.
The other Moravians, and the Indian Congregation under their charge in Ohio, were still more indebted to the good Chieftain. Loskiel states [FN] that in 1774, the Christian party had become obnoxious to a majority of the Pagan Delaware chiefs, and it was several times proposed to expel them by force. But God brought their counsel to nought, he adds, "and appointed for this purpose the first Captain among the Delawares, called White-Eyes," who kept the chiefs and council in awe, and would not suffer them to injure the Missionaries. Finding his efforts still unavailing, he at length went so far as to separate himself wholly from his opponents, resolved to renounce power, country and kindred for the sake of these just and benevolent men whom he could not bear to see persecuted.
[FN] History of the Missions of the United Brethren, &c. London, 1794.
His firmness met with a deserved success. Even the old Chief Netawatwees, who had opposed him most fiercely, acknowledged the injustice which had been done him; and not only changed his views in regard to the Christians, but published his recantation in presence of the whole council. White-Eyes then again came forward, and repeated a proposal for a national regulation to be made—whereby the Christians should be specially put under the Delaware protection—which had formerly been rejected. It was promptly agreed to, and the act was passed. The old Chieftain expressed great joy on that occasion;—"I am an old man," said he, "and know not how long I may live. I therefore rejoice, that I have been able to make this act. Our children and grand-children will reap the benefit of it,—and now I am ready to die whenever God pleases." [FN]
[FN] He died at Pittsburg in 1776, much lamented by the Delawares and many neighboring nations. "This wise man," says Loskiel, "spared no pains to conciliate the affection of all his neighbors. He sent frequent embassies to his Grand-Children, admonishing them to keep peace, and proved in truth a wise Grandfather to them," Being the Senior Chief of the nation, his opinion was of great weight, and he declared himself warmly in favor of the Christians, and first invited them to settle on the Muskingum. His grandson, nephew, and son and family, also joined them.
Loskiel states, that White-Eyes was in his own heart convinced of the truth of the gospel; that this was evident in all his speeches in behalf of the Christians, during which he was frequently so moved that tears prevented his words; and that he likewise declared with confidence, that no prosperity would attend the Indian affairs, unless they received and believed the saving gospel sent them from God, by means of the Brethren. Not long before his death he took public occasion to repeat the last will and testament of Netawatwees,—"That the Delawares should hear the word of God." He held the bible and some spelling-books in his hand, and addressed the Council in a strain of the most animated and moving eloquence. "My friends!" he concluded, "You have now heard the dying wish of our departed Chief. I will therefore gather together my young men, and their children—I will kneel down before that Great Spirit who created them and me—I will pray unto him, that he may have mercy upon us, and reveal his will unto us,—And as we cannot declare it to those who are yet unborn, we will pray unto the Lord our God, to make it known to our children and our children's children."
Still, White-Eyes regarded Christianity more as a civil than a religious system. He was a man of enlarged political views, and no less a patriot than a statesman. The ends he aimed at were far more his country's than his own. He observed the superiority of the white men to the red; and nearer home, the prosperity and happiness of the Christian Delawares; and he convinced himself thoroughly of the true causes of both. He therefore earnestly desired, that his whole nation might be civilized, to which result he considered Christianity, as he had seen it taught by the good Moravians, the best possible promotive, as undoubtedly it was.
But in this noble solicitude for his countrymen, he forgot himself. Hence even Loskiel, on mentioning his decease, states, with an almost reluctant honesty, that "Captain White-Eyes, who had so often advised other Indians, with great earnestness, to believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, but had always postponed joining the believers himself on account of being yet entangled in political concerns, was unexpectedly called into eternity;" adding, affectionately, that the "Indian Congregation to whom he had rendered very essential services, was much affected at the news of his death, and could not but hope, that God our Saviour had received his soul in mercy." Mr. Heckewelder sums up the matter by saying—"His ideas were that unless the Indians changed their mode of living, they would in time come to nothing; and to encourage them towards such a change, he told them to take the example of the Christian Indians, who by their industry had every thing they could wish for." In a word, there was more philanthropy and more philosophy in the religion of White-Eyes, than there was piety. Hence his eloquence, his energy, his strong affection for the Missionaries, and his sacrifices and services for them and for his countrymen. He was a good man, we believe, by the force of native conscience, as he was a great man by the force of native sense; and though to have learned Christianity, in addition to loving some of those who professed it, might have made him both better and greater than he was, we cannot but hope, as it is, with the Christian Delawares, "that God our Saviour has received his soul in mercy."
It would give us very sincere pleasure to be able to say as much for the Paganism of Captain Pipe, who, on the contrary, was opposed to the religion of the whites as inveterately as any of the New-England Sachems of the seventeenth century, and apparently for similar reasons. "The Sachems of the country were generally set against us," wrote Mr. Elliot in 1650,[FN-1]—"and counter-work the Lord by keeping off their men from praying to God as much as they can; and the reason of it is this; they plainly see that religion will make a great change among them, and cut them off from their former tyranny, &c." Pipe, too, with all his talent, was obnoxious to some very plain strictures regarding his own morality, and of course had no theoretical partiality for lectures upon that subject. [FN-2] He was inimical to White-Eyes, especially, because the latter supported the cause of reform; and rather than stand second to him, and at the same time surrender his own bad habits, he determined at all hazards to array a party in opposition. It was both a personal and a political movement, the objects being self-defence, in the first place, and in the second, distinction.
[FN-1] The light appearing, &c. London, 1651.
[FN-2] Narrative, p. 286 and passim: "We were obliged to wait for Pipe's becoming sufficiently sober,"—&c.
Such being the character of the scheme, it must still be admitted that he exhibited great energy and great ingenuity in promoting it. Some of his manœuvres have been noticed; and after his rival's decease, his own declarations, particularly, were much more frequent and fearless, and therefore more effectual than they had been before. "Thus," says Heckewelder, "when a young man of his tribe, who had received his education in Virginia, under the influence of Dr. Walker, on his return into the Indian country in 1779, spread unfavorable reports of the Virginian people; representing them as exceeding the Indians in vicious acts—their beating the Negroes so unmercifully, &c. &c. Pipe would mockingly enumerate such vicious and cruel acts, as the benefits of civilization." He could at the same time, with truth, set forth the poverty of the United States, in not having even a blanket, a shirt, or other article of Indian clothing, to give them in exchange for their peltry; whereas, (said he) were it not for the English, we should have to suffer, and perhaps many of us perish for want. Pipe and the Monseys, we are told elsewhere, were those who were most dreaded, and the effect of his operations was such, but one year after the decease of White-Eyes in the midst of his triumphs, that in 1781, the Peace-Chiefs had for their own safety to withdraw themselves from their several nations, and take refuge at Pittsburg.
In regard to the personal habits of Pipe, it may be doing him, as well as several other Indians of some distinction, no more than justice, to allude in extenuation to the well known nature of the temptations to which they have sometimes been exposed, and especially on the frontiers, during war, and the excitement of an attempt by one civilized party to engage their services against another. The peculiar physical circumstances which, together with the character of their education, go to diminish their power of self-control, need not be enlarged on. It is sufficient to say, that it would be a task more easy than gratifying to prove, that their misfortune in this particular has only followed after the fault of their civilized neighbors. "Who are you, my friend?" said a gentleman in Pipe's time to an Indian at Pittsburg, who was not so much intoxicated as not to be ashamed of his situation. "My name is Black-fish," he replied; "At home I am a clever fellow—Here, I am a hog." [FN]
[FN] Mr. Heckewelder's anecdote of the Indian who came into Bethlehem (Penn.) to dispose of his peltry, throws light on a great source of the evil not alluded to in the text, and the effects of which, among the Western tribes to this day are beyond calculation. "Well Thomas," said a trader to him, "I believe you have turned Moravian." "Moravian!" answered the Indian, "what makes you think so?"—"Because," replied the other, "you used to come to us, to sell your skins and peltry, and now you trade them away to the Moravians." "So!" rejoined the Indian, "now I understand you well, and I know what you mean to say. Now hear me.—See, my friend! when I come to this place with my skins and peltry to trade, the people are kind; they give me plenty of good victuals to eat, and pay me in money, or whatever I want, and no one says a word to me about drinking rum—neither do I ask for it! When I come to your place with my peltry, all call to me: 'Come, Thomas! here's rum, drink heartily, drink! it will not hurt yon.' All this is done for the purpose of cheating me. When you have obtained from me all you want, you call me a drunken dog, and kick me out of the room."
But we are not under the disagreeable necessity of apologising for every thing we relate of Captain Pipe. He gave many evidences of a natural honor and humanity, even amid the bloodiest scenes of the Revolution, and contrary to the dictation of those who were qualified, by every thing but feelings, to understand his duty better than himself. Under strong excitement he attached himself to the British interest, and towards the close of the war scalping-parties went out from his settlement. He was also prejudiced against the Christian Indians, and molested them much. But none of these things were done in his cooler moments; and what is more creditable to him, there is good reason to believe that he repented of all. The evidence of this fact appears in a transaction which took place at Detroit in November, 1781, with the particulars of which, as furnished by Loskiel and others, we shall conclude this narrative.
On the occasion referred to, a grand Indian Council was convened at Detroit, at which were present large numbers of various tribes, including Captain Pipe's Wolf warriors, who had just returned from a scalping expedition. Four of the Moravian Missionaries were also there, having been summoned to attend, at the suggestion of Pipe and others, for the purpose of deciding upon several charges alleged against them. The hall was filled with the concourse, the tribes being separately seated all around it, on the right and left hand of the Commandant, while the Delawares, with Pipe and his Councilors at their head, were directly in front. A war-chief of each of the two divisions of Indians, held a stick in his hand, of three or four feet in length, strung with scalps which they had taken in their last foray on the American frontier.
The Council was opened by the Commandant's signifying to Captain Pipe, that he might make his report, when the latter rose from his seat, holding a stick in his left hand:
"Father!"—he began; and here he paused, turned round to the audience with a most sarcastic look, and then proceeded in a lower tone, as addressing them,—"I have said father, though indeed I do not know why I should call him so—I have never known any father but the French—I have considered the English only as brothers. But as this name is imposed upon us, I shall make use of it and say—
"Father"—fixing his eyes again on the Commandant—"Some time ago you put a war-hatchet into my hands, saying, 'take this weapon and try it on the heads of my enemies, the Long-Knives, and let me know afterwards if it was sharp and good.'
"Father!—At the time when you gave me this weapon, I had neither cause nor wish to go to war against a foe who had done me no injury. But you say you are my father—and call me your child—and in obedience to you I received the hatchet. I knew that if I did not obey you, you would withhold from me [FN] the necessaries of life, which I could procure nowhere but here."
[FN] Meaning his tribe.
"Father! You may perhaps think me a fool, for risking my life at your bidding—and that in a cause in which I have no prospect of gaining any thing. For it is your cause, and not mine—you have raised a quarrel among yourselves—and you ought to fight it out—It is your concern to fight the Long-Knives—You should not compel your children, the Indians, to expose themselves to danger for your sake.
"Father!—Many lives have already been lost on your account—The tribes have suffered, and been weakened—Children have lost parents and brothers—Wives have lost husbands—It is not known how many more may perish before your war will be at an end.
"Father!—I have said, you may perhaps think me a fool, for thus thoughtlessly rushing on your enemy! Do not believe this, Father. Think not that I want sense to convince me, that although you now pretend to keep up a perpetual enmity to the Long-Knives, you may, before long, conclude a peace with them.
"Father! You say you love your children, the Indians.—This you have often told them; and indeed it is your interest to say so to them, that you may have them at your service.
"But, Father! Who of us can believe that you can love a people of a different colour from your own, better than those who have a white skin, like yourselves?
"Father! Pay attention to what I am going to say. While you, Father, are setting me [FN] on your enemy, much in the same manner as a hunter sets his dog on the game; while I am in the act of rushing on that enemy of yours, with the bloody destructive weapon you gave me, I may, perchance, happen to look back to the place from whence you started me, and what shall I see? Perhaps, I may see my father shaking hands with the Long-Knives; yes, with those very people he now calls his enemies. I may then see him laugh at my folly for having obeyed his orders; and yet I am now risking my life at his command!—Father! keep what I have said in remembrance."
[FN] Meaning his nation.
"Now, Father! here is what has been done with the hatchet you gave me," [handing the stick with the scalps on it] "I have done with the hatchet what you ordered me to do, and found it sharp. Nevertheless, I did not do all that I might have done. No, I did not. My heart failed within me. I felt compassion for your enemy. Innocence [FN] had no part in your quarrels; therefore I distinguished—I spared. I took some live flesh, [FN-2] which, while I was bringing to you, I spied one of your large canoes, on which I put it for you. In a few days you will receive this flesh, and find that the skin is of the same color with your own."
[FN-1] Meaning women and children.
[FN-2] Prisoners.
"Father! I hope you will not destroy what I have saved. You, Father, have the means of preserving that which would perish with us from want. The warrior is poor, and his cabin is always empty; but your house, Father, is always full."
During the delivery of this harangue, which is said to have produced a great effect on all present, and especially on those who understood the language in which it was spoken, the Orator two or three times advanced so far towards the Commandant, in the heat of his excitement, that one of the officers present thought proper to interfere and request him to move back. The other war-chiefs now made their speeches, and then the Commandant (an honorable and humane man, notwithstanding the Orator's strictures on his Father,)—called upon him to substantiate his charges against the Missionaries. Pipe, who was still standing, was unwilling to make the attempt, but felt embarrassed. He began to shift and shuffle, (says Loskiel,) and bending towards his Councilors, asked them what he should say. They all hung their heads, and were silent. Suddenly, recollecting himself and rising up, he addressed the Commandant "I said before that some such thing might have happened, but now I will tell you the plain truth. The Missionaries are innocent. What they have done, they were compelled to do." [alluding to their having interpreted letters which the Delaware Chief received from Pittsburg, &c] "We were to blame—We forced them to it, when they refused." After some farther conversation the Commandant declared the Missionaries to be acquitted of all the accusations brought against them.
Pipe expressed his satisfaction at the result, and on returning from the council-house, he asked some of the Delaware Chieftains who were present how they liked what he said. He observed, that he knew it was true, and added; "I never wished your teachers any harm, knowing that they love the Indians; but, I have all along been imposed on, and importuned to do what I did by those who do not love them; and now, when these were to speak, they hung their heads, leaving me to extricate myself, after telling our Father things they had dictated and persuaded me to tell him." This declaration has decidedly the air of candor and truth; and the Captain's subsequent conduct was much more in accordance with the spirit of it than it had been before. He did not however distinguish himself particularly after the close of the war, and even the time of his death has not come within our knowledge, although we have reason to believe that he was living, and able to visit the City of Washington, as late as 1817.