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_Title:_ The War Chief of the Ottawas
   A Chronicle of the Pontiac War
   [Volume 15 of "The Chronicles of Canada"]
_Author:_ Thomas Guthrie Marquis (1864-1936)
_Illustrator:_ Charles William Jefferys (1869-1951)
_Date of first publication:_ 1915
_Date first posted:_ November 20, 2013
_Date last updated:_ November 20, 2013
Faded Page eBook #20131123

This eBook was produced by: Fred Pincock, James Wright, Charles Bidwell,
& the Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at
http://www.pgdpcanada.net




       This book is dedicated to the memory of our dear colleague
                          James 'jimmy' Wright
who worked tirelessly and cheerfully with his friends at DPC despite great
  hardship

                 *        *        *        *        *




                          CHRONICLES OF CANADA

              Edited by George M. Wrong and H. H. Langton
                         In thirty-two volumes


                                   15
                             THE WAR CHIEF
                             OF THE OTTAWAS

                                   BY
                         THOMAS GUTHRIE MARQUIS

Part V

The Red Man in Canada




[Illustration: THE BLACK WATCH AT BUSHY RUN, 1763
From a colour drawing by C. W. Jefferys]




                             THE WAR CHIEF
                             OF THE OTTAWAS

                     A Chronicle of the Pontiac War

                                   BY

                         THOMAS GUTHRIE MARQUIS


                                TORONTO
                        GLASGOW, BROOK & COMPANY
                                  1915

    _Copyright in all Countries subscribing to the Berne Convention_

Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to His Majesty at the Edinburgh
  University Press




                           Table of Contents

              I. The Times and the Men
              II. Pontiac and the Tribes of the Hinterland
              III. The Gathering Storm
              IV. The Siege of Detroit
              V. The Fall of the Lesser Forts
              VI. The Relief of the Fort Pitt
              VII. Detroit Once More
              VIII. Winding up the Indian War
              BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
              INDEX




                             ILLUSTRATIONS

        THE BLACK WATCH AT BUSHY RUN, 1763
        From a colour drawing by C. W. Jefferys

        SIR WILLIAM JOHNSON
        From an engraving by Spooner after a painting by Adams

        The Hinterland - 1763
        Map

        MAJOR ROBERT ROGERS
        From an engraving in the John Ross Robertson Collection,
        Toronto Public Library

        Detroit and Vicinity - 1763
        Map

        COLONEL HENRY BOUQUET
        From a contemporary painting

        Bouquet\'s Routes - 1763 and 1764
        Map

        Forts & Settlements on the Mississippi - 1764
        From an old map by Tho^{s} Hutchins.




                               CHAPTER I


                         THE TIMES AND THE MEN

There was rejoicing throughout the Thirteen Colonies, in the month of
September 1760, when news arrived of the capitulation of Montreal.
Bonfires flamed forth and prayers were offered up in the churches and
meeting-houses in gratitude for deliverance from a foe that for over a
hundred years had harried and had caused the Indians to harry the
frontier settlements. The French armies were defeated by land; the
French fleets were beaten at sea. The troops of the enemy had been
removed from North America, and so powerless was France on the ocean
that, even if success should crown her arms on the European continent,
where the Seven Years' War was still raging, it would be impossible for
her to transport a new force to America. The principal French forts in
America were occupied by British troops. Louisbourg had been razed to
the ground; the British flag  waved over Quebec, Montreal, and Niagara,
and was soon to be raised on all the lesser forts in the territory known
as Canada. The Mississippi valley from the Illinois river southward
alone remained to France. Vincennes on the Wabash and Fort Chartres on
the Mississippi were the only posts in the hinterland occupied by French
troops. These posts were under the government of Louisiana; but even
these the American colonies were prepared to claim, basing the right on
their 'sea to sea' charters.

The British in America had found the strip of land between the
Alleghanies and the Atlantic far too narrow for a rapidly increasing
population, but their advance westward had been barred by the French.
Now, praise the Lord, the French were out of the way, and American
traders and settlers could exploit the profitable fur-fields and the
rich agricultural lands of the region beyond the mountains. True, the
Indians were there, but these were not regarded as formidable foes.
There was no longer any occasion to consider the Indians--so thought the
colonists and the British officers in America. The red men had been a
force to be reckoned with only because the French had supplied them with
the sinews of war, but they might now be treated like other denizens of
the forest--the bears, the wolves, and the wild cats. For this mistaken
policy the British colonies were to pay a heavy price.

The French and the Indians, save for one exception, had been on terms of
amity from the beginning. The reason for this was that the French had
treated the Indians with studied kindness. The one exception was the
Iroquois League or Six Nations. Champlain, in the first years of his
residence at Quebec, had joined the Algonquins and Hurons in an attack
on them, which they never forgot; and, in spite of the noble efforts of
French missionaries and a lavish bestowal of gifts, the Iroquois thorn
remained in the side of New France. But with the other Indian tribes the
French worked hand in hand, with the Cross and the priest ever in
advance of the trader's pack. French missionaries were the first white
men to settle in the populous Huron country near Lake Simcoe. A
missionary was the first European to catch a glimpse of Georgian Bay,
and a missionary was probably the first of the French race to launch his
canoe on the lordly Mississippi. As a father the priest watched  over
his wilderness flock; while the French traders fraternized with the red
men, and often mated with dusky beauties. Many French traders, according
to Sir William Johnson--a good authority, of whom we shall learn more
later--were 'gentlemen in manners, character, and dress,' and they
treated the natives kindly. At the great centres of trade--Montreal,
Three Rivers, and Quebec--the chiefs were royally received with roll of
drum and salute of guns. The governor himself--the 'Big Mountain,' as
they called him--would extend to them a welcoming hand and take part in
their feastings and councils. At the inland trading-posts the Indians
were given goods for their winter hunts on credit and loaded with
presents by the officials. To such an extent did the custom of giving
presents prevail that it became a heavy tax on the treasury of France,
insignificant, however, compared with the alternative of keeping in the
hinterland an armed force. The Indians, too, had fought side by side
with the French in many notable engagements. They had aided Montcalm,
and had assisted in such triumphs as the defeat of Braddock. They were
not only friends of the French; they were sword companions.

The British colonists could not, of course, entertain friendly feelings
towards the tribes which sided with their enemies and often devastated
their homes and murdered their people. But it must be admitted that,
from the first, the British in America were far behind the French in
christianlike conduct towards the native races. The colonial traders
generally despised the Indians and treated them as of commercial value
only, as gatherers of pelts, and held their lives in little more esteem
than the lives of the animals that yielded the pelts. The missionary
zeal of New England, compared with that of New France, was exceedingly
mild. Rum was a leading article of trade. The Indians were often cheated
out of their furs; in some instances they were slain and their packs
stolen. Sir William Johnson described the British traders as 'men of no
zeal or capacity: men who even sacrifice the credit of the nation to the
basest purposes.' There were exceptions, of course, in such men as
Alexander Henry and Johnson himself, who, besides being a wise official
and a successful military commander, was one of the leading traders.

No sooner was New France vanquished than the British began building new
forts and  blockhouses in the hinterland.[1] Since the French were no
longer to be reckoned with, why were these forts needed? Evidently, the
Indians thought, to keep the red children in subjection and to deprive
them of their hunting-grounds! The gardens they saw in cultivation about
the forts were to them the forerunners of general settlement. The French
had been content with trade; the British appropriated lands for farming,
and the coming of the white settler meant the disappearance of game.
Indian chiefs saw in these forts and cultivated strips of land a desire
to exterminate the red man and steal his territory; and they were not
far wrong.

Outside influences, as well, were at work among the Indians. Soon after
the French armies departed, the inhabitants along the St Lawrence had
learned to welcome the change of government. They were left to cultivate
their farms in peace. The tax-gatherer was no longer squeezing from them
their last _sou_ as in the days of Bigot; nor were their sons, whose
labour was needed on the farms and in the workshops, forced to take up
arms. They had peace and plenty, and were content. But in the hinterland
it was different. At Detroit, Michilimackinac, and other forts were
French trading communities, which, being far from the seat of war and
government, were slow to realize that they were no longer subjects of
the French king. Hostile themselves, these French traders naturally
encouraged the Indians in an attitude of hostility to the incoming
British. They said that a French fleet and army were on their way to
Canada to recover the territory. Even if Canada were lost, Louisiana was
still French, and, if only the British could be kept out of the west,
the trade that had hitherto gone down the St Lawrence might now go by
way of the Mississippi.

The commander-in-chief of the British forces in North America, Sir
Jeffery Amherst, despised the red men. They were 'only fit to live with
the inhabitants of the woods, being more nearly allied to the Brute than
to the Human creation.' Other British officers had much the same
attitude. Colonel Henry Bouquet, on a suggestion made to him by Amherst
that blankets infected with small-pox might be distributed to good
purpose among the savages, not only fell in with Amherst's  views, but
further proposed that dogs should be used to hunt them down. 'You will
do well,' Amherst wrote to Bouquet, 'to try to inoculate the Indians by
means of Blankets as well as to try every other method that can serve to
extirpate this Execrable Race. I should be very glad if your scheme for
hunting them down by dogs could take effect, but England is at too great
a Distance to think of that at present.' And Major Henry Gladwyn, who,
as we shall see, gallantly held Detroit through months of trying siege,
thought that the unrestricted sale of rum among the Indians would
extirpate them more quickly than powder and shot, and at less cost.

There was, however, one British officer, at least, in America who did
not hold such views towards the natives of the soil. Sir William
Johnson, through his sympathy and generosity, had won the friendship of
the Six Nations, the most courageous and the most cruel of the Indian
tribes. [2] It has been said by a recent writer that Johnson was 'as
much Indian as white man.' [3] Nothing could be more misleading. Johnson
was simply an enlightened  Irishman of broad sympathies who could make
himself at home in palace, hut, or wigwam. He was an astute diplomatist,
capable of winning his point in controversy with the most learned and
experienced legislators of the colonies, a successful military leader, a
most successful trader; and there was probably no more progressive and
scientific farmer in America. He had a cultivated mind; the orders he
sent to London for books show that he was something of a scholar and in
his leisure moments given to serious reading. His advice to the lords of
trade regarding colonial affairs was that of a statesman. He fraternized
with the Dutch settlers of his neighbourhood and with the Indians
wherever he found them. At Detroit, in 1761, he entered into the spirit
of the French settlers and joined with enthusiasm in their feasts and
dances. He was one of those rare characters who can be all things to all
men and yet keep an untarnished name. The Indians loved him as a firm
friend, and his home was to them Liberty Hall. But for this man the
Indian rising against British rule would have attained greater
proportions. At the critical period he succeeded in keeping the Six
Nations loyal, save for the Senecas. This was most  important; for had
the Six Nations joined in the war against the British, it is probable
that not a fort west of Montreal would have remained standing. The line
of communication between Albany and Oswego would have been cut,
provisions and troops could not have been forwarded, and, inevitably,
both Niagara and Detroit would have fallen.

But as it was, the Pontiac War proved serious enough. It extended as far
north as Sault Ste Marie and as far south as the borders of South
Carolina and Georgia. Detroit was cut off for months; the Indians drove
the British from all other points on the Great Lakes west of Lake
Ontario; for a time they triumphantly pushed their war-parties,
plundering and burning and murdering, from the Mississippi to the
frontiers of New York. During the year 1763 more British lives were lost
in America than in the memorable year of 1759, the year of the siege of
Quebec and the world-famous battle of the Plains of Abraham.

                 *        *        *        *        *

[Illustration: SIR WILLIAM JOHNSON
From an engraving by Spooner after a painting by Adams]




                               CHAPTER II


                PONTIAC AND THE TRIBES OF THE HINTERLAND

Foremost among the Indian leaders was Pontiac, the over-chief of the
Ottawa Confederacy. It has been customary to speak of this chief as
possessed of 'princely grandeur' and as one 'honoured and revered by his
subjects.' But it was not by a display of princely dignity or by
inspiring awe and reverence that he influenced his blood-thirsty
followers. His chief traits were treachery and cruelty, and his
pre-eminence in these qualities commanded their respect. His conduct of
the siege of Detroit, as we shall see, was marked by duplicity and
diabolic savagery. He has often been extolled for his skill as a
military leader, and there is a good deal in his siege of Detroit and in
the murderous ingenuity of some of his raids to support this view. But
his principal claim to distinction is due to his position as the head of
a confederacy--whereas the other chiefs in the  conflict were merely
leaders of single tribes--and to the fact that he was situated at the
very centre of the theatre of war. News from Detroit could be quickly
heralded along the canoe routes and forest trails to the other tribes,
and it thus happened that when Pontiac struck, the whole Indian country
rose in arms. But the evidence clearly shows that, except against
Detroit and the neighbouring blockhouses, he had no part in planning the
attacks. The war as a whole was a leaderless war.

Let us now look for a moment at the Indians who took part in the war.
Immediately under the influence of Pontiac were three tribes--the
Ottawas, the Chippewas, and the Potawatomis. These had their
hunting-grounds chiefly in the Michigan peninsula, and formed what was
known as the Ottawa Confederacy or the Confederacy of the Three Fires.
It was at the best a loose confederacy, with nothing of the organized
strength of the Six Nations. The Indians in it were of a low type--sunk
in savagery and superstition. A leader such as Pontiac naturally
appealed to them. They existed by hunting and fishing--feasting to-day
and famishing to-morrow--and were easily roused by the hope of plunder.
The  weakly manned forts containing the white man's provisions,
ammunition, and traders' supplies were an attractive lure to such
savages. Within the confederacy, however, there were some who did not
rally round Pontiac. The Ottawas of the northern part of Michigan, under
the influence of their priest, remained friendly to the British.
Including the Ottawas and Chippewas of the Ottawa and Lake Superior, the
confederates numbered many thousands; yet at no time was Pontiac able to
command from among them more than one thousand warriors.

In close alliance with the Confederacy of the Three Fires were the
tribes dwelling to the west of Lake Michigan--the Menominees, the
Winnebagoes, and the Sacs and Foxes. These tribes could put into the
field about twelve hundred warriors; but none of them took part in the
war save in one instance, when the Sacs, moved by the hope of plunder,
assisted the Chippewas in the capture of Fort Michilimackinac.

The Wyandots living on the Detroit river were a remnant of the ancient
Hurons of the famous mission near Lake Simcoe. For more than a century
they had been bound to the French by ties of amity. They were
courageous,  intelligent, and in every way on a higher plane of life
than the tribes of the Ottawa Confederacy. Their two hundred and fifty
braves were to be Pontiac's most important allies in the siege of
Detroit.

South of the Michigan peninsula, about the head-waters of the rivers
Maumee and Wabash, dwelt the Miamis, numbering probably about fifteen
hundred. Influenced by French traders and by Pontiac's emissaries, they
took to the war-path, and the British were thus cut off from the
trade-route between Lake Erie and the Ohio.

The tribes just mentioned were all that came under the direct influence
of Pontiac. Farther south were other nations who were to figure in the
impending struggle. The Wyandots of Sandusky Bay, at the south-west
corner of Lake Erie, had about two hundred warriors, and were in
alliance with the Senecas and Delawares. Living near Detroit, they were
able to assist in Pontiac's siege. Directly south of these, along the
Scioto, dwelt the Shawnees--the tribe which later gave birth to the
great Tecumseh--with three hundred warriors. East of the Shawnees,
between the Muskingum and the Ohio, were the Delawares. At one time this
tribe had lived on both  sides of the Delaware river in Pennsylvania and
New York, and also in parts of New Jersey and Delaware. They called
themselves _Leni-Lenape_, real men; but were, nevertheless, conquered by
the Iroquois, who 'made women' of them, depriving them of the right to
declare war or sell land without permission. Later, through an alliance
with the French, they won back their old independence. But they lay in
the path of white settlement, and were ousted from one hunting-ground
after another, until finally they had to seek homes beyond the
Alleghanies. The British had robbed the Delawares of their ancient
lands, and the Delawares hated with an undying hatred the race that had
injured them. They mustered six hundred warriors.

Almost directly south of Fort Niagara, by the upper waters of the
Genesee and Alleghany rivers, lay the homes of the Senecas, one of the
Six Nations. This tribe looked upon the British settlers in the Niagara
region as squatters on their territory. It was the Senecas, not Pontiac,
who began the plot for the destruction of the British in the hinterland,
and in the war which followed more than a thousand Seneca warriors took
part. Happily, as has been mentioned, Sir William  Johnson was able to
keep the other tribes of the Six Nations loyal to the British; but the
'Door-keepers of the Long House,' as the Senecas were called, stood
aloof and hostile.

The motives of the Indians in the rising of 1763 may, therefore, be
summarized as follows: amity with the French, hostility towards the
British, hope of plunder, and fear of aggression. The first three were
the controlling motives of Pontiac's Indians about Detroit. They called
it the 'Beaver War.' To them it was a war on behalf of the French
traders, who loaded them with gifts, and against the British, who drove
them away empty-handed. But the Senecas and the Delawares, with their
allies of the Ohio valley, regarded it as a war for their lands. Already
the Indians had been forced out of their hunting-grounds in the valleys
of the Juniata and the Susquehanna. The Ohio valley would be the next to
go, unless the Indians went on the war-path. The chiefs there had good
reason for alarm. Not so Pontiac at Detroit, because no settlers were
invading his hunting-grounds. And it was for this lack of a strong
motive that Pontiac's campaign, as will hereafter appear, broke down
before the end of  the war; that even his own confederates deserted him;
and that, while the Senecas and Delawares were still holding out, he was
wandering through the Indian country in a vain endeavour to rally his
scattered warriors.




                              CHAPTER III


                          THE GATHERING STORM

When Montreal capitulated, and the whole of Canada passed into British
hands, it was the duty of Sir Jeffery Amherst, the commander-in-chief,
to arrange for the defence of the country that had been wrested from
France. General Gage was left in command at Montreal, Colonel Burton at
Three Rivers, and General Murray at Quebec. Amherst himself departed for
New York in October, and never again visited Canada. Meanwhile provision
had been made, though quite inadequate, to garrison the long chain of
forts [4] that had been established by the French in the vaguely defined
Indian territory to the west. The fortunes of war had already given the
British command of the eastern end of this chain. Fort Lévis, on what is
now Chimney Island, a few miles east of Ogdensburg, had been captured.
Fort Frontenac had been destroyed by Bradstreet, and was left without a
garrison. British troops were in charge of Fort Oswego, which had been
built in 1759. Niagara, the strongest fort on the Great Lakes, had been
taken by Sir William Johnson. Near it were two lesser forts, one at the
foot of the rapids, where Lewiston now stands, and the other, Fort
Schlosser, on the same side of the river, above the falls. Forts
Presqu'isle, Le Bœuf, and Venango, on the trade-route between Lake Erie
and Fort Pitt, and Fort Pitt itself, were also occupied. But all west of
Fort Pitt was to the British unknown country. Sandusky, at the
south-west end of Lake Erie; Detroit, guarding the passage between Lakes
Erie and St Clair; Miami and Ouiatanon, on the trade-route between Lake
Erie and the Wabash; Michilimackinac, at the entrance to Lake Michigan;
Green Bay (La Baye), at the southern end of Green Bay; St Joseph, on
Lake Michigan; Sault Ste Marie, at the entrance to Lake Superior--all
were still commanded by French officers, as they had been under New
France.

[Illustration: The Hinterland - 1763]

The task of raising the British flag over these forts was entrusted to
Major Robert Rogers of New England, who commanded Rogers's Rangers, a
famous body of Indian-fighters. On September 13, 1760, with two hundred
Rangers in fifteen whale-boats, Rogers set out from Montreal. On
November 7 the contingent without mishap reached a river named by Rogers
the Chogage, evidently the Cuyahoga, on the south shore of Lake Erie.
Here the troops landed, probably on the site of the present city of
Cleveland; and Rogers was visited by a party of Ottawa Indians, whom he
told of the conquest of Canada and of the retirement of the French
armies from the country. He added that his force had been sent by the
commander-in-chief to take over for their father, the king of England,
the western posts still held by French soldiers. He then offered them a
peace-belt, which they accepted, and requested them to go with him to
Detroit to take part in the capitulation and 'see the truth' of what he
had said. They promised to give him an answer next morning. The calumet
was smoked by the Indians and the officers in turn; but a careful guard
was kept, as Rogers was suspicious of the Indians. In the morning,
however, they returned with a favourable reply, and the younger warriors
of the band agreed to accompany their new friends. Owing to stormy
weather nearly a week passed--the Indians keeping the camp supplied with
venison and turkey, for which Rogers paid them liberally--before the
party, on November 12, moved forward towards Detroit.

[Illustration: MAJOR ROBERT ROGERS
From an engraving in the John Ross Robertson Collection,
Toronto Public Library]

Detroit was at this time under the command of the Sieur de Belêtre, or
Bellestre. This officer had been in charge of the post since 1758 and
had heard nothing of the surrender of Montreal. Rogers, to pave the way,
sent one of his men in advance with a letter to Belêtre notifying him
that the western posts now belonged to King George and informing him
that he was approaching with a letter from the Marquis de Vaudreuil and
a copy of the capitulation. Belêtre was irritated; the French armies had
been defeated and he was about to lose his post. He at first refused to
believe the tidings; and it appears that he endeavoured to rouse the
inhabitants and Indians about Detroit to resist the approaching British,
for on November 20 several Wyandot sachems met the advancing party and
told Rogers that four hundred warriors  were in ambush at the entrance
to the Detroit river to obstruct his advance. The Wyandots wished to
know the truth regarding the conquest of Canada, and on being convinced
that it was no fabrication, they took their departure 'in good temper.'
On the 23rd Indian messengers, among whom was an Ottawa chief,[5]
arrived at the British camp, at the western end of Lake Erie, reporting
that Belêtre intended to fight and that he had arrested the officer who
bore Rogers's message. Belêtre's chief reason for doubting the truth of
Rogers's statement appears to have been that no French officers had
accompanied the British contingent from Montreal.

When the troops entered the Detroit river Rogers sent Captain Donald
Campbell to the fort with a copy of the capitulation of Montreal and
Vaudreuil's letter instructing Belêtre to hand over his fort to the
British. These documents were convincing, and Belêtre[6] consented,
though with no good grace; and on  November 29 Rogers formally took
possession of Detroit. It was an impressive ceremony. Some seven hundred
Indians were assembled in the vicinity of Fort Detroit, and, ever ready
to take sides with the winning party, appeared about the stockade
painted and plumed in honour of the occasion. When the lilies of France
were lowered and the cross of St George was thrown to the breeze, the
barbarous horde uttered wild cries of delight. A new and rich people had
come to their hunting-grounds, and they had visions of unlimited
presents of clothing, ammunition, and rum. After the fort was taken over
the militia were called together and disarmed and made to take the oath
of allegiance to the British king.

Captain Campbell was installed in command of the fort, and Belêtre and
the other prisoners of war were sent to Philadelphia. Two officers were
dispatched with twenty men to bring the French troops from Forts Miami
and Ouiatanon. A few soldiers were stationed at Fort Miami to keep the
officers at Detroit informed of any interesting events in that
neighbourhood. Provisions being scarce at Detroit, Rogers sent the
majority of his force to Niagara; and on December 10 set out for
Michilimackinac with an officer and thirty-seven men. But he was driven
back by stormy weather and ice, and forced, for the present year, to
give up the attempt to garrison the posts on Lakes Huron and Michigan.
Leaving everything in peace at Detroit, Rogers went to Fort Pitt, and
for nine months the forts in the country of the Ottawa Confederacy were
to be left to their own resources.

Meanwhile the Indians were getting into a state of unrest. The presents,
on which they depended so much for existence, were not forthcoming, and
rumours of trouble were in the air. Senecas, Shawnees, and Delawares
were sending war-belts east and west and north and south. A plot was on
foot to seize Pitt, Niagara, and Detroit. Seneca ambassadors had visited
the Wyandots in the vicinity of Detroit, urging them to fall on the
garrison. After an investigation, Captain Campbell reported to Amherst
that an Indian rising was imminent, and revealed a plot, originated by
the Senecas, which was identical with that afterwards matured in 1763
and attributed to Pontiac's initiative. Campbell  warned the commandants
of the other forts of the danger; and the Indians, seeing that their
plans were discovered, assumed a peaceful attitude.

Still, the situation was critical; and, to allay the hostility of the
natives and gain their confidence, Amherst dispatched Sir William
Johnson to Detroit with instructions 'to settle and establish a firm and
lasting treaty' between the British and the Ottawa Confederacy and other
nations inhabiting the Indian territory, to regulate the fur trade at
the posts, and to settle the price of clothes and provisions. He was
likewise to collect information as exhaustive as possible regarding the
Indians, their manners and customs, and their abodes. He was to find out
whether the French had any shipping on Lakes Huron, Michigan, and
Superior, what were the best posts for trade, and the price paid by the
French for pelts. He was also to learn, if possible, how far the
boundaries of Canada extended towards the Mississippi, and the number of
French posts, settlements, and inhabitants along that river.

Sir William left his home at Fort Johnson on the Mohawk river early in
July 1761. Scarcely had he begun his journey when he was warned that it
was dangerous to proceed,  as the nations in the west were unfriendly
and would surely fall upon his party. But Johnson was confident that his
presence among them would put a stop to 'any such wicked design.' As he
advanced up Lake Ontario the alarming reports continued. The Senecas,
who had already stolen horses from the whites and taken prisoners, had
been sending ambassadors abroad, endeavouring to induce the other
nations to attack the British. Johnson learned, too, that the Indians
were being cheated in trade by British traders; that at several posts
they had been roughly handled, very often without cause; that their
women were taken from them by violence; and that they were hindered from
hunting and fishing on their own grounds near the posts, even what they
did catch or kill being taken from them. He heard, too, that Seneca and
Ottawa warriors had been murdered by whites near Forts Pitt and Venango.
At Niagara he was visited by Seneca chiefs, who complained that one of
their warriors had been wounded near by and that four horses had been
stolen from them. Johnson evidently believed the story, for he gave them
'two casks of rum, some paint and money to make up their loss,' and they
left him well satisfied.  On Lake Erie, stories of the hostility of the
Indians multiplied. They were ready to revolt; even before leaving
Niagara, Johnson had it on good authority that the Indians 'were
certainly determined to rise and fall on the English,' and that 'several
thousands of the Ottawas and other nations' had agreed to join the
dissatisfied member 'of the Six Nations in this scheme or plot.' But
Johnson kept on his way, confident that he could allay dissatisfaction
and win all the nations to friendship.

When Sir William reached Detroit on September 3 he was welcomed by
musketry volleys from the Indians and by cannon from the fort. His
reputation as the great superintendent of Indian Affairs, the friend of
the red man, had gone before him, and he was joyously received, and at
once given quarters in the house of the former commandant of Detroit,
Belêtre. On the day following his arrival the Wyandots and other
Indians, with their priest, Father Pierre Potier (called Pottie by
Johnson), waited on him. He treated them royally, and gave them pipes
and tobacco and a barbecue of a large ox roasted whole. He found the
French inhabitants most friendly, especially Pierre Chesne, better known
as La Butte, the interpreter of the Wyandots, and St Martin, the
interpreter of the Ottawas. The ladies of the settlement called on him,
and were regaled 'with cakes, wine and cordial.' He was hospitably
entertained by the officers and settlers, and in return gave several
balls, at which, it appears, he danced with 'Mademoiselle Curie--a fine
girl.' This vivacious lady evidently made an impression on the
susceptible Irishman; for after the second ball--'there never was so
brilliant an affair' at Detroit before--he records in his private diary:
'Promised to write Mademoiselle Curie my sentiments.'

While at Niagara on his journey westward Johnson had been joined by
Major Henry Gladwyn, to whom Amherst had assigned the duty of
garrisoning the western forts and taking over in person the command of
Fort Detroit. Gladwyn had left Niagara a day or two in advance of
Johnson, but on the way to his new command he had been seized with
severe fever and ague and totally incapacitated for duty. On Johnson
fell the task of making arrangements for the still unoccupied posts. He
did the work with his customary promptitude and thoroughness, and by
September 10 had dispatched men of Gage's Light Infantry  and of the
Royal Americans from Detroit for Michilimackinac, Green Bay, and St
Joseph.

The chiefs of the various tribes had flocked to Detroit to confer with
Sir William. He won them all by his honeyed words and liberal
distribution of presents; he was told that his 'presents had made the
sun and sky bright and clear, the earth smooth and level, the roads all
pleasant'; and they begged that he 'would continue in the same friendly
disposition towards them and they would be a happy people.' His work
completed, Johnson set out, September 19, on his homeward journey,
leaving behind him the promise of peace in the Indian territory.[7]

For the time being Johnson's visit to Detroit had a salutary effect, and
the year 1761 terminated with only slight signs of unrest among the
Indians; but in the spring of 1762 the air was again heavy with
threatening storm. The Indians of the Ohio valley were once more sending
out their war-belts and bloody hatchets. In several instances Englishmen
were murdered and scalped and horses were stolen. The Shawnees and
Delawares held British prisoners whom they refused to surrender. By
Amherst's orders presents were withheld. Until they surrendered all
prisoners and showed a proper spirit towards the British he would
suppress all gifts, in the belief that 'a due observance of this alone
will soon produce more than can ever be expected from bribing them.' The
reply of the Shawnees and Delawares to his orders was stealing horses
and terrorizing traders. Sir William Johnson and his assistant in
office, George Croghan, warned Amherst of the danger he was running in
rousing the hatred of the savages. Croghan in a letter to Bouquet said:
'I do not approve of General Amherst's plan of distressing them too
much, as in my opinion they will not consider consequences if too much
distressed, tho' Sir Jeffery thinks they will.' Although warnings were
pouring in upon him, Amherst was of the opinion that there was 'no
necessity for any more at the several posts than are just enough to keep
up the communication, there being nothing to fear from the Indians in
our present circumstances.' To Sir William Johnson he wrote that it was
'not in the power of the Indians to effect anything of consequence.'

In the spring of 1763 the war-cloud was about to burst; but in remote
New York the commander-in-chief failed to grasp the situation, and
turned a deaf ear to those who warned him that an Indian war with all
its horrors was inevitable. These vague rumours, as Amherst regarded
them, of an imminent general rising of the western tribes, took more
definite form as the spring advanced. Towards the end of March
Lieutenant Edward Jenkins, the commandant of Fort Ouiatanon, learned
that the French traders had been telling the Indians that the British
would 'all be prisoners in a short time.' But what caused most alarm was
information from Fort Miami of a plot for the capture of the forts and
the slaughter of the garrisons. A war-belt was received by the Indians
residing near the fort, and with it came the request that they should
hold themselves in readiness to attack the British. Robert Holmes, the
commandant of Fort Miami, managed to secure the 'bloody belt' and sent
it to Gladwyn,[8] who in turn sent it to Amherst.

News had now reached the Ohio tribes of  the Treaty of Paris, but the
terms of this treaty had only increased their unrest. On April 30, 1763,
Croghan wrote to Amherst that the Indians were 'uneasy since so much of
North America was ceded to Great Britain,' holding that the British had
no right in their country. 'The Peace,' added Croghan, 'and hearing so
much of this country being given up has thrown them into confusion and
prevented them bringing in their prisoners this spring as they
promised.' Amherst's reply was: 'Whatever idle notions they may
entertain in regard to the cessions made by the French crown can be of
very little consequence.' On April 20 Gladwyn, though slow to see
danger, wrote to Amherst: 'They [the Indians] say we mean to make Slaves
of them by Taking so many posts in the country, and that they had better
attempt Something now to Recover their liberty than wait till we are
better established.' Even when word that the Indians were actually on
the war-path reached Amherst, he still refused to believe it a serious
matter, and delayed making preparations to meet the situation. It was,
according to him, a 'rash attempt of that turbulent tribe the Senecas';
and, again, he was 'persuaded this alarm will end in nothing more than a
rash attempt of what the Senecas have been threatening.' Eight British
forts in the west were captured and the frontiers of the colonies bathed
in blood before he realized that 'the affair of the Indians was more
general than they apprehended.'

The Indians were only waiting for a sudden, bold blow at some one of the
British posts, and on the instant they would be on the war-path from the
shores of Lake Superior to the borders of the southernmost colonies of
Great Britain. The blow was soon to be struck. Pontiac's war-belts had
been sent broadcast, and the nations who recognized him as over-chief
were ready to follow him to the slaughter. Detroit was the strongest
position to the west of Niagara; it contained an abundance of stores,
and would be a rich prize. As Pontiac yearly visited this place during
the trading season, he knew the locality well and was familiar with the
settlers, the majority of whom were far from being friendly to the
British. Against Detroit he would lead the warriors, under the pretence
of winning back the country for the French.

In the spring of 1763, instead of going direct to his usual
camping-place, an island in Lake St Clair, Pontiac pitched his wigwam on
the bank of the river Ecorces,  ten miles south of Detroit, and here
awaited the tribes whom he had summoned to a council to be held 'on the
15th of the moon'--the 27th of April. And at the appointed time nearly
five hundred warriors--Ottawas, Potawatomis, Chippewas, and
Wyandots--with their squaws and papooses, had gathered at the
meeting-place, petty tribal jealousies and differences being laid aside
in their common hatred of 'the dogs dressed in red,' the British
soldiers.

When the council assembled Pontiac addressed them with fiery words. The
Ottawa chief was at this time about fifty years old. He was a man of
average height, of darker hue than is usual among Indians, lithe as a
panther, his muscles hardened by forest life and years of warfare
against Indian enemies and the British. Like the rush of a mountain
torrent the words fell from his lips. His speech was one stream of
denunciation of the British. In trade they had cheated the Indians,
robbing them of their furs, overcharging them for the necessaries of
life, and heaping insults and blows upon the red men, who from the
French had known only kindness. The time had come to strike. As  he
spoke he flashed a red and purple wampum belt before the gaze of the
excited braves. This, he declared, he had received from their father the
king of France, who commanded his red children to fight the British.
Holding out the belt, he recounted with wild words and vehement gestures
the victories gained in the past by the Indians over the British, and as
he spoke the blood of his listeners pulsed through their veins with
battle ardour. To their hatred and sense of being wronged he had
appealed, and he saw that every warrior present was with him; but his
strongest appeal was to their superstition. In spite of the fact that
French missionaries had been among them for a century, they were still
pagan, and it was essential to the success of his project that they
should believe that the Master of Life favoured their cause. He told
them the story of a Wolf (Delaware) Indian who had journeyed to heaven
and talked with the Master of Life, receiving instructions to tell all
the Indians that they were to 'drive out' and 'make war upon' the 'dogs
clothed in red who will do you nothing but harm.' When he had finished,
such chiefs as Ninevois of the Chippewas and Takay of the Wyandots--'the
bad Hurons,' as the writer of the  'Pontiac Manuscript' describes them
to distinguish them from Father Potier's flock--spoke in similar terms.
Every warrior present shouted his readiness to go to war, and before the
council broke up it was agreed that in four days Pontiac 'should go to
the fort with his young men for a peace dance' in order to get
information regarding the strength of the place. The blow must be struck
before the spring boats arrived from the Niagara with supplies and
additional troops. The council at an end, the different tribes scattered
to their several summer villages, seemingly peaceful Indians who had
gathered together for trade.




                               CHAPTER IV


                          THE SIEGE OF DETROIT

At the time of the Pontiac outbreak there were in the vicinity of Fort
Detroit between one thousand and two thousand white inhabitants. Yet the
place was little more than a wilderness post. The settlers were cut off
from civilization and learned news of the great world outside only in
the spring, when the traders' boats came with supplies. They were out of
touch with Montreal and Quebec, and it was difficult for them to realize
that they were subjects of the hated king of England. They had not lost
their confidence that the armies of France would yet be victorious and
sweep the British from the Great Lakes, and in this opinion they were
strengthened by traders from the Mississippi, who came among them. But
the change of rulers had made little difference in their lives. The
majority of them were employed by traders, and the better class
contentedly cultivated their narrow farms and  traded with the Indians
who periodically visited them.

The settlement was widely scattered, extending along the east shore of
the Detroit river for about eight miles from Lake St Clair, and along
the west shore for about six miles, four above and two below the fort.
On either side of the river the fertile fields and the long row of
whitewashed, low-built houses, with their gardens and orchards of apple
and pear trees, fenced about with rounded pickets, presented a picture
of peace and plenty. The summers of the inhabitants were enlivened by
the visits of the Indians and the traders; and in winter they
light-heartedly whiled away the tedious hours with gossip and dance and
feast, like the habitants along the Richelieu and the St Lawrence.

[Illustration: Detroit and Vicinity - 1763]

The militia of the settlement, as we have seen, had been deprived of
their arms at the taking over of Detroit by Robert Rogers; and for the
most part the settlers maintained a stolid attitude towards their
conquerors, from whom they suffered no hardship and whose rule was not
galling. The British had nothing to fear from them. But the Indians were
a force to be reckoned with. There were three Indian villages in the
vicinity--the Wyandot, on the east side of the river, opposite the fort;
the Ottawa, five miles above, opposite Ile au Cochon (Belle Isle); and
the Potawatomi, about two miles below the fort on the west shore. The
Ottawas here could muster 200 warriors, the Potawatomis about 150, and
the Wyandots 250, while near at hand were the Chippewas, 320 strong.
Pontiac, although head chief of the Ottawas, did not live in the
village, but had his wigwam on Ile à la Pêche, at the outlet of Lake St
Clair, a spot where whitefish abounded. Here he dwelt with his squaws
and papooses, not in 'grandeur,' but in squalid savagery. Between the
Indians and the French there existed a most friendly relationship; many
of the habitants, indeed, having Indian wives.

Near the centre of the settlement, on the west bank of the river, about
twenty miles from Lake Erie, stood Fort Detroit, a miniature town. It
was in the form of a parallelogram and was surrounded by a palisade
twenty-five feet high. According to a letter of an officer, the walls
had an extent of over one thousand paces. At each corner was a bastion
and over each gate a blockhouse. Within the walls were about one hundred
houses, the little Catholic church of Ste Anne's,  a council-house,
officers' quarters, and a range of barracks. Save for one or two
exceptions the buildings were of wood, thatched with bark or straw, and
stood close together. The streets were exceedingly narrow; but
immediately within the palisade a wide road extended round the entire
village. The spiritual welfare of the French and Indian Catholics in the
garrison was looked after by Father Potier, a Jesuit, whose mission was
in the Wyandot village, and by Father Bocquet, a Récollet, who lived
within the fort. Major Henry Gladwyn was in command. He had a hundred
and twenty soldiers, and two armed schooners, the _Gladwyn_ and the
_Beaver_, were in the river near by.

On the first day of May 1763, Pontiac came to the main gate of the fort
asking to be allowed to enter, as he and the warriors with him, forty in
all, desired to show their love for the British by dancing the calumet
or peace dance. Gladwyn had not the slightest suspicion of evil intent,
and readily admitted them. The savages selected a spot in front of the
officers' houses, and thirty of them went through their grotesque
movements, shouting and dancing to the music of the Indian drum, and all
the while waving their calumets in token of friendship.  While the
dancers were thus engaged, the remaining ten of the party were busily
employed in surveying the fort--noting the number of men and the
strength of the palisades. The dance lasted about an hour. Presents were
then distributed to the Indians, and all took their departure.

Pontiac now summoned the Indians about Detroit to another council. On
this occasion the chiefs and warriors assembled in the council-house in
the Potawatomi village south of the fort. When all were gathered
together Pontiac rose and, as at the council at the river Ecorces, in a
torrent of words and with vehement gestures, denounced the British. He
declared that under the new occupancy of the forts in the Indian country
the red men were neglected and their wants were no longer supplied as
they had been in the days of the French; that exorbitant prices were
charged by the traders for goods; that when the Indians were departing
for their winter camps to hunt for furs they were no longer able to
obtain ammunition and clothing on credit; and, finally, that the British
desired the death of the Indians, and it was therefore necessary as an
act of self-preservation to destroy them. He once more displayed  the
war-belt that he pretended to have received from the king of France.
This belt told him to strike in his own interest and in the interest of
the French. He closed his speech by saying that he had sent belts to the
Chippewas of Saginaw and the Ottawas of Michilimackinac and of the river
La Tranche (the Thames). Seeing that his words were greeted with grunts
and shouts of approval and that the assembled warriors were with him to
a man, Pontiac revealed a plan he had formed to seize the fort and
slaughter the garrison. He and some fifty chiefs and warriors would wait
on Gladwyn on the pretence of discussing matters of importance. Each one
would carry beneath his blanket a gun, with the barrel cut short to
permit of concealment. Warriors and even women were to enter the fort as
if on a friendly visit and take up positions of advantage in the
streets, in readiness to strike with tomahawks, knives, and guns, all
which they were to have concealed beneath their blankets. At the council
Pontiac was to address Gladwyn and, in pretended friendship, hand him a
wampum belt. If it were wise to strike, he would on presenting the belt
hold its reverse side towards Gladwyn. This was to  be the signal for
attack. Instantly blankets were to be thrown aside and the officers were
to be shot down. At the sound of firing in the council-room the Indians
in the streets were to fall on the garrison and every British soldier
was to be slain, care being taken that no Frenchman suffered. The plan,
by its treachery, and by its possibilities of slaughter and plunder,
appealed to the savages; and they dispersed to make preparations for the
morning of the 7th, the day chosen for carrying out the murderous
scheme.

The plot was difficult to conceal. The aid of French blacksmiths had to
be sought to shorten the guns. Moreover, the British garrison had some
friends among the Indians. Scarcely had the plot been matured when it
was discussed among the French, and on the day before the intended
massacre it was revealed to Gladwyn. His informant is not certainly
known. A Chippewa maiden, an old squaw, several Frenchmen, and an Ottawa
named Mahiganne have been mentioned. It is possible that Gladwyn had it
from a number of sources, but most likely from Mahiganne. The 'Pontiac
Manuscript,' probably the work of Robert Navarre, the keeper of the
notarial records of the settlement, distinctly states that  Mahiganne
revealed the details of the plot with the request that Gladwyn should
not divulge his name; for, should Pontiac learn, the informer would
surely be put to death. This would account for the fact that Gladwyn,
even in his report of the affair to Amherst, gives no hint as to the
person who told him.

Gladwyn at once made preparations to receive Pontiac and his chiefs. On
the night of the 6th instructions were given to the soldiers and the
traders within the fort to make preparations to resist an attack, and
the guards were doubled. As the sentries peered out into the darkness
occasional yells and whoops and the beating of drums reached their ears,
telling of the war-dance that was being performed in the Indian villages
to hearten the warriors for the slaughter.

Gladwyn determined to act boldly. On the morning of the 7th all the
traders' stores were closed and every man capable of bearing weapons was
under arms; but the gates were left open as usual, and shortly after
daylight Indians and squaws by twos and threes began to gather in the
fort as if to trade. At ten in the morning a line of chiefs with Pontiac
at their head filed along the road leading to the river gate. All were
painted and plumed  and each one was wrapped in a brightly coloured
blanket. When they entered the fort they were astonished to see the
warlike preparations, but stoically concealed their surprise. Arrived in
the council-chamber, the chiefs noticed the sentinels standing at arms,
the commandant and his officers seated, their faces stern and set,
pistols in their belts and swords by their sides. So perturbed were the
chiefs by all this warlike display that it was some time before they
would take their seats on the mats prepared for them. At length they
recovered their composure, and Pontiac broke the silence by asking why
so many of the young men were standing in the streets with their guns.
Answer was made through the interpreter La Butte that it was for
exercise and discipline. Pontiac then addressed Gladwyn, vehemently
protesting friendship. All the time he was speaking Gladwyn bent on him
a scrutinizing gaze, and as the chief was about to present the wampum
belt, a signal was given and the drums crashed out a charge. Every doubt
was removed from Pontiac's mind--his plot was discovered. His nervous
hand lowered the belt; but he recovered himself immediately and
presented it in the ordinary way. Gladwyn  replied to his speech
sternly, but kindly, saying that he would have the protection and
friendship of the British so long as he merited it. A few presents were
then distributed among the Indians, and the council ended. The chiefs,
with their blankets still tightly wrapped about them, filed out of the
council-room and scattered to their villages, followed by the
disappointed rabble of fully three hundred Indians, who had assembled in
the fort.

On the morrow, Pontiac, accompanied by three chiefs, again appeared at
the fort, bringing with him a pipe of peace. When this had been smoked
by the officers and chiefs, he presented it to Captain Campbell, as a
further mark of friendship. The next day he was once more at the gates
seeking entrance. But he found them closed: Gladwyn felt that the time
had come to take no chances. This morning a rabble of Potawatomis,
Ottawas, Wyandots, and Chippewas thronged the common just out of musket
range. On Pontiac's request for a conference with Gladwyn he was sternly
told that he might enter alone. The answer angered him, and he strode
back to his followers. Now, with yells and war-whoops, parties of the
savages bounded away on a murderous mission. Half  a mile behind the
fort an English woman, Mrs Turnbull, and her two sons cultivated a small
farm. All three were straightway slain. A party of Ottawas leapt into
their canoes and paddled swiftly to Ile au Cochon, where lived a former
sergeant, James Fisher. Fisher was seized, killed, and scalped, his
young wife brutally murdered, and their two little children carried into
captivity. On this same day news was brought to the fort that Sir Robert
Davers and Captain Robertson had been murdered three days before on Lake
St Clair by Chippewas who were on their way from Saginaw to join
Pontiac's forces. Thus began the Pontiac War in the vicinity of Detroit.
For several months the garrison was to know little rest.

That night at the Ottawa village arose the hideous din of the war-dance,
and while the warriors worked themselves into a frenzy the squaws were
busy breaking camp. Before daylight the village was moved to the
opposite side of the river, and the wigwams were pitched near the mouth
of Parent's Creek, about a mile and a half above the fort. On the
morning of the 10th the siege began in earnest. Shortly after daybreak
the yells of a horde of savages could be heard north and  south and
west. But few of the enemy could be seen, as they had excellent shelter
behind barns, outhouses, and fences. For six hours they kept up a
continuous fire on the garrison, but wounded only five men. The fort
vigorously returned the fire, and none of the enemy dared attempt to
rush the palisades. A cluster of buildings in the rear sheltered a
particularly ferocious set of savages. A three-pounder--the only
effective artillery in the fort--was trained on this position; spikes
were bound together with wire, heated red-hot, and fired at the
buildings. These were soon a mass of flames, and the savages concealed
behind them fled for their lives.

Presently the Indians grew tired of this useless warfare and withdrew to
their villages. Gladwyn, thinking that he might bring Pontiac to terms,
sent La Butte to ask the cause of the attack and to say that the British
were ready to redress any wrongs from which the Indians might be
suffering. La Butte was accompanied by Jean Baptiste Chapoton, a captain
of the militia and a man of some importance in the fort, and Jacques
Godfroy, a trader and likewise an officer of militia. It may be noted
that Godfroy's wife was the daughter of a Miami chief. The ambassadors
were  received in a friendly manner by Pontiac, who seemed ready to
cease hostilities. La Butte returned to the fort with some of the chiefs
to report progress; but when he went again to Pontiac he found that the
Ottawa chief had made no definite promise. It seems probable, judging
from their later actions, that Chapoton and Godfroy had betrayed Gladwyn
and urged Pontiac to force the British out of the country. Pontiac now
requested that Captain Donald Campbell, who had been in charge of
Detroit before Gladwyn took over the command, should come to his village
to discuss terms. Campbell was confident that he could pacify the
Indians, and, accompanied by Lieutenant George M'Dougall, he set out
along the river road for the Ottawas' encampment at Parent's Creek. As
the two officers crossed the bridge at the mouth of the creek, they were
met by a savage crowd--men, women, and children--armed with sticks and
clubs. The mob rushed at them with yells and threatening gestures, and
were about to fall on the officers when Pontiac appeared and restored
order. A council was held, but as Campbell could get no satisfaction he
suggested returning to the fort. Thereupon Pontiac remarked: 'My father
will sleep to-night in the lodges of his  red children.' Campbell and
M'Dougall were given good quarters in the house of Jean Baptiste
Meloche. For nearly two months they were to be kept close prisoners.

So far only part of the Wyandots had joined Pontiac: Father Potier had
been trying to keep his flock neutral. But on the 11th Pontiac crossed
to the Wyandot village, and threatened it with destruction if the
warriors did not take up the tomahawk. On this compulsion they
consented, no doubt glad of an excuse to be rid of the discipline of
their priest.

Another attack on the fort was made, this time by about six hundred
Indians; but it was as futile as the one of the earlier day. Pontiac now
tried negotiation. He summoned Gladwyn to surrender, promising that the
British should be allowed to depart unmolested on their vessels. The
officers, knowing that their communications with the east were cut, that
food was scarce, that a vigorous assault could not fail to carry the
fort, urged Gladwyn to accept the offer, but he sternly refused. He
would not abandon Detroit while one pound of food and one pound of
powder were left in the fort. Moreover, the treacherous conduct of
Pontiac convinced him  that the troops and traders as they left the fort
would be plundered and slaughtered. He rejected Pontiac's demands, and
advised him to disperse his people and save his ammunition for hunting.

At this critical moment Detroit was undoubtedly saved by a French
Canadian. But for Jacques Bâby, the grim spectre Starvation would have
stalked through the little fortress. Bâby was a prosperous trader and
merchant who, with his wife Susanne Reaume, lived on the east shore of
the river, almost opposite the fort. He had a farm of one thousand
acres, two hundred of which were under cultivation. His trading
establishment was a low-built log structure eighty feet long by twenty
wide. He owned thirty slaves--twenty men and ten women. He seems to have
treated them kindly; at any rate, they loyally did his will. Bâby agreed
to get provisions into the fort by stealth; and on a dark night, about a
week after the siege commenced, Gladwyn had a lantern displayed on a
plank fixed at the water's edge. Bâby had six canoes in readiness; in
each were stowed two quarters of beef, three hogs, and six bags of meal.
All night long these canoes plied across the half-mile stretch of water
and by  daylight sufficient food to last the garrison for several weeks
had been delivered.

From day to day the Indians kept up a desultory firing, while Gladwyn
took precautions against a long siege. Food was taken from the houses of
the inhabitants and placed in a common storehouse. Timber was torn from
the walks and used in the construction of portable bastions, which were
erected outside the fort. There being danger that the roofs of the
houses would be ignited by means of fire-arrows, the French inhabitants
of the fort were made to draw water and store it in vessels at
convenient points. Houses, fences, and orchards in the neighbourhood
were destroyed and levelled, so that skulking warriors could not find
shelter. The front of the fort was comparatively safe from attack, for
the schooners guarded the river gate, and the Indians had a wholesome
dread of these floating fortresses.

About the middle of the month the _Gladwyn_ sailed down the Detroit to
meet a convoy that was expected with provisions and ammunition from Fort
Schlosser. At the entrance to Lake Erie, as the vessel lay becalmed in
the river, she was suddenly beset by a swarm of savages in canoes; and
Pontiac's prisoner, Captain Campbell, appeared in the foremost canoe,
the savages thinking that the British would not fire on them for fear of
killing him. Happily, a breeze sprang up and the schooner escaped to the
open lake. There was no sign of the convoy; and the _Gladwyn_ sailed for
the Niagara, to carry to the officers there tidings of the Indian rising
in the west.

On May 30 the watchful sentries at Detroit saw a line of bateaux flying
the British flag rounding a point on the east shore of the river. This
was the expected convoy from Fort Schlosser, and the cannon boomed forth
a welcome. But the rejoicings of the garrison were soon stilled. Instead
of British cheers, wild war-whoops resounded from the bateaux. The
Indians had captured the convoy and were forcing their captives to row.
In the foremost boat were four soldiers and three savages. Nearing the
fortress one of the soldiers conceived the daring plan of overpowering
the Indian guard and escaping to the _Beaver_, which lay anchored in
front of the fort. Seizing the nearest savage he attempted to throw him
into the river; but the Indian succeeded in stabbing him, and both fell
overboard and were drowned. The other savages,  dreading capture, leapt
out of the boat and swam ashore. The bateau with the three soldiers in
it reached the _Beaver_, and the provisions and ammunition it contained
were taken to the fort. The Indians in the remaining bateaux, warned by
the fate of the leading vessel, landed on the east shore; and, marching
their prisoners overland past the fort, they took them across the river
to Pontiac's camp, where most of them were put to death with fiendish
cruelty.

The soldiers who escaped to the _Beaver_ told the story of the ill-fated
convoy. On May 13 Lieutenant Abraham Cuyler, totally ignorant of the
outbreak of hostilities at Detroit, had left Fort Schlosser with
ninety-six men in ten bateaux. They had journeyed in leisurely fashion
along the northern shore of Lake Erie, and by the 28th had reached Point
Pelée, about thirty miles from the Detroit river. Here a landing was
made, and while tents were being pitched a band of painted savages
suddenly darted out of the forest and attacked a man and a boy who were
gathering wood. The man escaped, but the boy was tomahawked and scalped.
Cuyler drew up his men in front of the boats, and a sharp musketry fire
followed between the  Indians, who were sheltered by a thick wood, and
the white men on the exposed shore. The raiders were Wyandots from
Detroit, the most courageous and intelligent savages in the region.
Seeing that Cuyler's men were panic-stricken, they broke from their
cover, with unusual boldness for Indians, and made a mad charge. The
soldiers, completely unnerved by the savage yells and hurtling
tomahawks, threw down their arms and dashed in confusion to the boats.
Five they succeeded in pushing off, and into these they tumbled without
weapons of defence. Cuyler himself was left behind wounded; but he waded
out, and was taken aboard under a brisk fire from the shore. The Indians
then launched two of the abandoned boats, rushed in pursuit of the
fleeing soldiers, speedily captured three of the boats, and brought them
ashore in triumph. The two others, in one of which was Cuyler, hoisted
sail and escaped. The Indians, as we have seen, brought the captured
boats and their prisoners to Detroit. Cuyler had directed his course to
Sandusky, but finding the blockhouse there burnt to the ground, he had
rowed eastward to Presqu'isle, and then hastened to Niagara to report
the disaster.

The siege of Detroit went on. Towards the middle of June, Jacques Bâby
brought word to the commandant that the _Gladwyn_ was returning from the
Niagara with supplies and men, and that the Indians were making
preparations to capture her. A few miles below Detroit lay Fighting
Island; between it and the east shore, Turkey Island. Here the savages
had erected a breastwork, so carefully concealed that it would be
difficult even for the keenest eyes to detect its presence. The vessel
would have to pass within easy range of this barricade; and it was the
plan of the Indians to dart out in their canoes as the schooner worked
up-stream, seize her, and slay her crew. On learning this news Gladwyn
ordered cannon to be fired to notify the captain that the fort still
held out, and sent a messenger to meet the vessel with word of the plot.
It happened that the _Gladwyn_ was well manned and prepared for battle.
On board was Cuyler with twenty-two survivors of the ill-starred convoy,
besides twenty-eight men of Captain Hopkins's company. To deceive the
Indians as to the number of men, all the crew and soldiers, save ten or
twelve, were concealed in the hold; to invite attack, the vessel
advanced boldly up-stream, and at  nightfall cast anchor in the narrow
channel in front of Turkey Island. About midnight the Indians stealthily
boarded their canoes and cautiously, but confidently, swept towards her
with muffled paddles. The _Gladwyn_ was ready for them. Not a sound
broke the silence of the night as the Indians approached the schooner;
when suddenly the clang of a hammer against the mast echoed over the
calm waters, the signal to the soldiers in the hold. The Indians were
almost on their prey; but before they had time to utter the war-whoop,
the soldiers had come up and had attacked the savages with bullets and
cannon shot. Shrieks of death arose amid the din of the firing and the
splash of swimmers hurriedly making for the shore from the sinking
canoes. In a moment fourteen Indians were killed and as many more
wounded. From behind the barricade the survivors began a harmless
musketry fire against the schooner, which simply weighed anchor and
drifted down-stream to safety. A day or two later she cleared Turkey
Island and reached the fort, pouring a shattering broadside into the
Wyandot village as she passed it. Besides the troops, the _Gladwyn_ had
on board a precious cargo of a hundred and fifty barrels of  provisions
and some ammunition. She had not run the blockade unscathed, for in
passing Turkey Island one sergeant and four men had been wounded. There
was rejoicing in the fort when the reinforcement marched in. This
additional strength in men and provisions, it was expected, would enable
the garrison to hold out for at least another month, within which time
soldiers would arrive in sufficient force to drive the Indians away.

In the meantime Pontiac was becoming alarmed. He had expected an easy
victory, and was not prepared for a protracted siege. He had drawn on
the French settlers for supplies; his warriors had slain cattle and
taken provisions without the consent of the owners. Leaders in the
settlement now waited on Pontiac, making complaint. He professed to be
fighting for French rule, and expressed sorrow at the action of his
young men, promising that in future the French should be paid. Acting,
no doubt, on the suggestion of some of his French allies, he made a list
of the inhabitants, drew on each for a definite quantity of supplies,
and had these deposited at Meloche's house near his camp on Parent's
Creek. A commissary was appointed to distribute the provisions as
required. In payment he issued letters of credit, signed with his totem,
the otter. It is said that all of them were afterwards redeemed; but
this is almost past belief in the face of what actually happened.

From the beginning of the siege Pontiac had hoped that the French
traders and settlers would join him to force the surrender of the fort.
The arrival of the reinforcement under Cuyler made him despair of
winning without their assistance, and early in July he sent his Indians
to the leading inhabitants along the river, ordering them to a council,
at which he hoped by persuasion or threats to make them take up arms.
This council was attended by such settlers as Robert Navarre, Zacharie
Sicotte, Louis Campau, Antoine Cuillerier, François Meloche, all men of
standing and influence. In his address to them Pontiac declared: 'If you
are French, accept this war-belt for yourselves, or your young men, and
join us; if you are English, we declare war upon you.'

The _Gladwyn_ had brought news of the Peace of Paris between France and
England. Many of the settlers had been hoping that success would crown
the French arms in Europe and that Canada would be restored. Some of
those at the council said that these articles of peace were a mere ruse
on the part of Gladwyn to gain time. Robert Navarre, who had published
the articles of peace to the French and Indians, and several others were
friendly to the British, but the majority of those present were
unfriendly. Sicotte told Pontiac that, while the heads of families could
not take up arms, there were three hundred young men about Detroit who
would willingly join him. These words were probably intended to humour
the chief; but there were those who took the belt and commenced
recruiting among their fellows. The settlers who joined Pontiac were
nearly all half-breeds or men mated with Indian wives. Others, such as
Pierre Reaume and Louis Campau, believing their lives to be in danger on
account of their loyalty to the new rulers, sought shelter in the fort.

By July 4 the Indians, under the direction of French allies, had
strongly entrenched themselves and had begun a vigorous attack. But a
force of about sixty men marched out from the fort and drove them from
the position. In the retreat two Indians were killed, and one of the
pursuing soldiers, who had been a prisoner among the Indians and  had
learned the ways of savage warfare, scalped one of the fallen braves.
The victim proved to be a nephew of the chief of the Saginaw Chippewas,
who now claimed life for life, and demanded that Captain Campbell should
be given up to him. According to the 'Pontiac Manuscript' Pontiac
acquiesced, and the Saginaw chief killed Campbell 'with a blow of his
tomahawk, and after cast him into the river.' Campbell's fellow-prisoner
M'Dougall, along with two others, had escaped to the fort some days
before.

The investment continued, although the attacks became less frequent. The
schooners manœuvring in the river poured broadsides into the Indian
villages, battering down the flimsy wigwams. Pontiac moved his camp from
the mouth of Parent's Creek to a position nearer Lake St Clair, out of
range of their guns, and turned his thoughts to contrive some means of
destroying the troublesome vessels. He had learned from the French of
the attempt with fire-ships against the British fleet at Quebec, and
made trial of a similar artifice. Bateaux were joined together, loaded
with inflammable material, ignited, and sent on their mission; but these
'fire-ships' floated harmlessly past the schooners  and burnt themselves
out. Then for a week the Indians worked on the construction of a
gigantic fire-raft, but nothing came of this ambitious scheme.

It soon appeared that Pontiac was beginning to lose his hold on the
Indians. About the middle of July ambassadors from the Wyandots and
Potawatomis came to the fort with an offer of peace, protesting, after
the Indian manner, love and friendship for the British. After much
parleying they surrendered their prisoners and plunder; but, soon after,
a temptation irresistible to their treacherous natures offered itself,
and they were again on the war-path.

Amherst at New York had at last been aroused to the danger; and Captain
James Dalyell had set out from Fort Schlosser with twenty-two barges,
carrying nearly three hundred men, with cannon and supplies, for the
relief of Detroit. The expedition skirted the southern shore of Lake
Erie until it reached Sandusky. The Wyandot villages here were found
deserted. After destroying them Dalyell shaped his course for the
Detroit river. Fortune favoured the expedition. Pontiac was either
ignorant of its approach or unable to mature a plan to check its
advance.  Through the darkness and fog of the night of July 28 the
barges cautiously crept up-stream, and when the morning sun of the 29th
lifted the mists from the river they were in full view of the fort.
Relief at last! The weary watching of months was soon to end. The band
of the fort was assembled, and the martial airs of England floated on
the morning breeze. Now it was that the Wyandots and Potawatomis,
although so lately swearing friendship to the British, thought the
opportunity too good to be lost. In passing their villages the barges
were assailed by a musketry fire, which killed two and wounded thirteen
of Dalyell's men. But the soldiers, with muskets and swivels, replied to
the attack, and put the Indians to flight. Then the barges drew up
before the fort to the welcome of the anxious watchers of Detroit.

The reinforcement was composed of men of the 55th and 8th regiments, and
of twenty Rangers under Major Robert Rogers. Like their commander,
Dalyell, many of them were experienced in Indian fighting and were eager
to be at Pontiac and his warriors. Dalyell thought that Pontiac might be
taken by surprise, and urged on Gladwyn the advisability of an immediate
advance. To this Gladwyn  was averse; but Dalyell was insistent, and won
his point. By the following night all was in readiness. At two o'clock
in the morning of the 31st the river gate was thrown open and about two
hundred and fifty men filed out.

Heavy clouds hid both moon and stars, and the air was oppressively hot.
The soldiers marched along the dusty road, guided by Bâby and St Martin,
who had volunteered for the work. Not a sound save their own dull tramp
broke the silence. On their right gleamed the calm river, and keeping
pace with them were two large bateaux armed with swivels. Presently, as
the troops passed the farm-houses, drowsy watch-dogs caught the sound of
marching feet and barked furiously. Pontiac's camp, however, was still
far away; this barking would not alarm the Indians. But the soldiers did
not know that they had been betrayed by a spy of Pontiac's within the
fort, nor did they suspect that snake-like eyes were even then watching
their advance.

At length Parent's Creek was reached, where a narrow wooden bridge
spanned the stream a few yards from its mouth. The advance-guard were
half-way over the bridge,  and the main body crowding after them, when,
from a black ridge in front, the crackle of musketry arose, and half the
advance-guard fell. The narrow stream ran red with their blood, and ever
after this night it was known as Bloody Run. On the high ground to the
north of the creek a barricade of cordwood had been erected, and behind
this and behind barns and houses and fences, and in the cornfields and
orchards, Indians were firing and yelling like demons. The troops
recoiled, but Dalyell rallied them; again they crowded to the bridge.
There was another volley and another pause. With reckless bravery the
soldiers pressed across the narrow way and rushed to the spot where the
musket-flashes were seen. They won the height, but not an Indian was
there. The musket-flashes continued and war-whoops sounded from new
shelters. The bateaux drew up alongside the bridge, and the dead and
wounded were taken on board to be carried to the fort. It was useless to
attempt to drive the shifty savages from their lairs, and so the retreat
was sounded. Captain Grant, in charge of the rear company, led his men
back across the bridge while Dalyell covered the retreat; and now the
fight took on a new aspect.  As the soldiers retreated along the road
leading to the fort, a destructive fire poured upon them from houses and
barns, from behind fences, and from a newly dug cellar. With the river
on their left, and with the enemy before and behind as well as on their
right, they were in danger of being annihilated. Grant ordered his men
to fix bayonets: a dash was made where the savages were thickest, and
they were scattered. As the fire was renewed panic seized the troops.
But Dalyell came up from the rear, and with shouts and threats and flat
of sword restored order. Day was breaking; but a thick fog hung over the
scene, under cover of which the Indians continued the attack. The house
of Jacques Campau, a trader, sheltered a number of Indians who were
doing most destructive work. Rogers and a party of his Rangers attacked
the house, and, pounding in the doors, drove out their assailants. From
Campau's house Rogers covered the retreat of Grant's company, but was
himself in turn besieged. By this time the armed bateaux, which had
borne the dead and wounded to the fort, had returned, and, opening fire
with their swivels on the Indians attacking Rogers, drove them off; the
Rangers joined Grant's  company, and all retreated for the fort. The
shattered remnant of Dalyell's confident forces arrived at Fort Detroit
at eight in the morning, after six hours of marching and desperate
battle, exhausted and crestfallen. Dalyell had been slain--an
irreparable loss. The casualty list was twenty killed and forty-two
wounded. The Indians had suffered but slightly. However, they gained but
little permanent advantage from the victory, as the fort had still about
three hundred effective men, with ample provisions and ammunition, and
could defy assault and withstand a protracted siege.

In this fight Chippewas and Ottawas took the leading part. The Wyandots
had, however, at the sound of firing crossed the river, and the
Potawatomis also had joined in the combat, in spite of the truce so
recently made with Gladwyn. At the battle of Bloody Run at least eight
hundred warriors were engaged in the endeavour to cut off Dalyell's men.
There was rejoicing in the Indian villages, and more British scalps
adorned the warriors' wigwams. Runners were sent out to the surrounding
nations with news of the victory, and many recruits were added to
Pontiac's forces.




                               CHAPTER V


                      THE FALL OF THE LESSER FORTS

While Fort Detroit was withstanding Pontiac's hordes, the smaller forts
and blockhouses scattered throughout the hinterland were faring badly.
On the southern shore of Lake Erie, almost directly south of the Detroit
river, stood Fort Sandusky--a rude blockhouse surrounded by a stockade.
Here were about a dozen men, commanded by Ensign Christopher Paully. The
blockhouse could easily have been taken by assault; but such was not the
method of the band of Wyandots in the neighbourhood. They preferred
treachery, and, under the guise of friendship, determined to destroy the
garrison with no risk to themselves.

On the morning of May 16 Paully was informed that seven Indians wished
to confer with him. Four of these were members of the Wyandot tribe, and
three belonged to Pontiac's band of Ottawas. The Wyandots were known  to
Paully, and as he had no news of the situation at Detroit, and no
suspicion of danger to himself, he readily admitted them to his
quarters. The Indians produced a calumet and handed it to Paully in
token of friendship. As the pipe passed from lip to lip a warrior
appeared at the door of the room and raised his arm. It was the signal
for attack. Immediately Paully was seized by the Indians, two of whom
had placed themselves on either side of him. At the same moment a
war-whoop rang out and firing began; and as Paully was rushed across the
parade-ground he saw the bodies of several of his men, who had been
treacherously slain. The sentry had been tomahawked as he stood at arms
at the gate; and the sergeant of the little company was killed while
working in the garden of the garrison outside the stockade.

When night fell Paully and two or three others, all that remained of the
garrison, were placed in canoes, and these were headed for Detroit. As
the prisoners looked back over the calm waters of Sandusky Bay, they saw
the blockhouse burst into flames. Paully and his men were landed at the
Ottawa camp, where a horde of howling Indians, including women and
children, beat them and  compelled them to dance and sing for the
entertainment of the rabble. Preparations were made to torture Paully to
death at the stake; but an old squaw, who had recently lost her husband,
was attracted by the handsome, dark-skinned young ensign, and adopted
him in place of her deceased warrior. Paully's hair was cut close; he
was dipped into the stream to wash the white blood from his veins; and
finally he was dressed and painted as became an Ottawa brave.

News of the destruction of Fort Sandusky was brought to Gladwyn by a
trader named La Brosse, a resident of Detroit, and a few days later a
letter was received from Paully himself. For nearly two months Paully
had to act the part of an Ottawa warrior. But early in July--Pontiac
being in a state of great rage against the British--his squaw placed him
in a farmhouse for safe keeping. In the confusion arising out of the
attack on Fort Detroit on the 4th of the month, and the murder of
Captain Campbell, he managed to escape, by the aid, it is said, of an
Indian maiden. He was pursued to within musket-shot of the walls of
Detroit. When he entered the fort, so much did he resemble an Indian
that at first he was not recognized.

The next fort to fall into the hands of the Indians was St Joseph, on
the east shore of Lake Michigan, at the mouth of the St Joseph river.
This was the most inaccessible of the posts on the Great Lakes. The
garrison here lived lonely lives. Around them were thick forests and
swamps, and in front the desolate waters of the sea-like lake. The
Indians about St Joseph had long been under the influence of the French.
This place had been visited by La Salle; and here in 1688 the Jesuit
Allouez had established a mission. In 1763 the post was held by Ensign
Francis Schlosser and fourteen men. For months the little garrison had
been without news from the east, when, on May 25, a party of Potawatomis
from about Detroit arrived on a pretended visit to their relations
living in the village at St Joseph, and asked permission to call on
Schlosser. But before a meeting could be arranged, a French trader
entered the fort and warned the commandant that the Potawatomis intended
to destroy the garrison.

Schlosser at once ordered his sergeant to arm his men, and went among
the French settlers seeking their aid. Even while he was addressing them
a shrill death-cry rang out--the sentry at the gate had fallen a victim
to  the tomahawk of a savage. In an instant a howling mob of Potawatomis
under their chief Washee were within the stockade. Eleven of the
garrison were straightway put to death, and the fort was plundered.
Schlosser and the three remaining members of his little band were taken
to Detroit by some Foxes who were present with the Potawatomis. On June
10 Schlosser had the good fortune to be exchanged for two chiefs who
were prisoners in Fort Detroit.

The Indians did not destroy Fort St Joseph, but left it in charge of the
French under Louis Chevalier. Chevalier saved the lives of several
British traders, and in every way behaved so admirably that at the close
of the Indian war he was given a position of importance under the
British, which position he held until the outbreak of the Revolutionary
War.

We have seen that when Major Robert Rogers visited Detroit in 1760, one
of the French forts first occupied was Miami, situated on the Maumee
river, at the commencement of the portage to the Wabash, near the spot
where Fort Wayne was afterwards built. At the time of the outbreak of
the Pontiac War this fort was held by Ensign Robert Holmes and twelve
men. Holmes knew that  his position was critical. In 1762 he had
reported that the Senecas, Shawnees, and Delawares were plotting to
exterminate the British in the Indian country, and he was not surprised
when, towards the end of May 1763, he was told by a French trader that
Detroit was besieged by the Ottawa Confederacy. But though Holmes was on
the alert, and kept his men under arms, he was nevertheless to meet
death and his fort was to be captured by treachery. In his desolate
wilderness home the young ensign seems to have lost his heart to a
handsome young squaw living in the vicinity of the fort. On May 27 she
visited him and begged him to accompany her on a mission of mercy--to
help to save the life of a sick Indian woman. Having acted as physician
to the Indians on former occasions, Holmes thought the request a natural
one. The young squaw led him to the Indian village, pointed out the
wigwam where the woman was supposed to be, and then left him. As he was
about to enter the wigwam two musket-shots rang out, and he fell dead.
Three soldiers, who were outside the fort, rushed for the gate, but they
were tomahawked before they could reach it. The gate was immediately
closed, and the nine  soldiers within the fort made ready for
resistance. With the Indians were two Frenchmen, Jacques Godfroy, whom
we have met before as the ambassador to Pontiac in the opening days of
the siege of Detroit, and one Miny Chesne;[9] and they had an English
prisoner, a trader named John Welsh, who had been captured and plundered
at the mouth of the Maumee while on his way to Detroit. The Frenchmen
called on the garrison to surrender, pointing out how useless it would
be to resist and how dreadful would be their fate if they were to slay
any Indians. Without a leader, and surrounded as they were by a large
band of savages, the men of the garrison saw that resistance would be of
no avail. The gates were thrown open; the soldiers marched forth, and
were immediately seized and bound; and the fort was looted. With Welsh
the captives were taken to the Ottawa village at Detroit, where they
arrived on June 4, and where Welsh and several of the soldiers were
tortured to death.

A few miles south of the present city of Lafayette, on the south-east
side of the  Wabash, at the mouth of Wea Creek, stood the little wooden
fort of Ouiatanon. It was connected with Fort Miami by a footpath
through the forest. It was the most westerly of the British forts in the
Ohio country, and might be said to be on the borderland of the territory
along the Mississippi, which was still under the government of
Louisiana. There was a considerable French settlement, and near by was
the principal village of the Weas, a sub-tribe of the Miami nation. The
fort was guarded by the usual dozen of men, under the command of
Lieutenant Edward Jenkins. In March Jenkins had been warned that an
Indian rising was imminent and that soon all the British in the
hinterland would be prisoners. The French and Indians in this region
were under the influence of the Mississippi officers and traders, who
were, in Jenkins's words, 'eternally telling lies to the Indians,'
leading them to believe that a great army would soon arrive to recover
the forts. Towards the end of May ambassadors arrived at Ouiatanon,
either from the Delawares or from Pontiac, bringing war-belts and
instructions to the Weas to seize the fort. This, as usual, was achieved
by treachery. Jenkins was invited to one of their cabins for a
conference.  Totally unaware of the Pontiac conspiracy, or of the fall
of St Joseph, Sandusky, or Miami, he accepted the invitation. While
passing out of the fort he was seized and bound, and, when taken to the
cabin, he saw there several of his soldiers, prisoners like himself. The
remaining members of the garrison surrendered, knowing how useless it
would be to resist, and under the threat that if one Indian were killed
all the British would be put to death. It had been the original
intention of the Indians to seize the fort and slaughter the garrison,
but, less blood-thirsty than Pontiac's immediate followers, they were
won to mercy by two traders, Maisonville and Lorain, who gave them
presents on the condition that the garrison should be made prisoners
instead of being slain. Jenkins and his men were to have been sent to
the Mississippi, but their removal was delayed, and they were quartered
on the French inhabitants, and kindly treated by both French and Indians
until restored to freedom.

The capture of Forts Miami and Ouiatanon gave the Indians complete
control of the route between the western end of Lake Erie and the rivers
Ohio and Mississippi. The French traders, who had undoubtedly been
instrumental  in goading the Indians to hostilities, had now the trade
of the Wabash and lower Ohio, and of the tributaries of both, in their
own hands. No British trader could venture into the region with
impunity; the few who attempted it were plundered and murdered.

The scene of hostilities now shifts to the north. Next to Detroit the
most important fort on the Great Lakes west of Niagara was
Michilimackinac, situated on the southern shore of the strait connecting
Lakes Huron and Michigan. The officer there had supervision of the
lesser forts at Sault Ste Marie, Green Bay, and St Joseph. At this time
Sault Ste Marie was not occupied by troops. In the preceding winter
Lieutenant Jamette had arrived to take command; but fire had broken out
in his quarters and destroyed the post, and he and his men had gone back
to Michilimackinac, where they still were when the Pontiac War broke
out. There were two important Indian tribes in the vicinity of
Michilimackinac, the Chippewas and the Ottawas. The Chippewas had
populous villages on the island of Mackinaw and at Thunder Bay on Lake
Huron. They had as their hunting-grounds the eastern half of the
peninsula which is now the state of Michigan. The  Ottawas claimed as
their territory the western half of the peninsula, and their chief
village was L'Arbre Croche, where the venerable Jesuit priest, Father du
Jaunay, had long conducted his mission.

The Indians about Michilimackinac had never taken kindly to the new
occupants of the forts in their territory. When the trader Alexander
Henry arrived there in 1761, he had found them decidedly hostile. On his
journey up the Ottawa he had been warned of the reception in store for
him. At Michilimackinac he was waited on by a party of Chippewas headed
by their chief, Minavavna, a remarkably sagacious Indian, known to the
French as _Le Grand Sauteur_, whose village was situated at Thunder Bay.
This chief addressed Henry in most eloquent words, declaring that the
Chippewas were the children of the French king, who was asleep, but who
would shortly awaken and destroy his enemies. The king of England, he
said, had entered into no treaty with the Chippewas and had sent them no
presents: they were therefore still at war with him, and until he made
such concessions they must look upon the French king as their chief.
'But,' he continued, 'you come unarmed: sleep  peacefully!' The pipe of
peace was then passed to Henry. After smoking it he bestowed on the
Indians some gifts, and they filed out of his presence. Almost
immediately on the departure of the Chippewas came some two hundred
Ottawas demanding of Henry, and of several other British traders who
were also there, ammunition, clothing, and other necessaries for their
winter hunt, on credit until spring. The traders refused, and, when
threatened by the Indians, they and their employees, some thirty in all,
barricaded themselves in a house, and prepared to resist the demands by
force of arms. Fortunately, at this critical moment word arrived of a
strong British contingent that was approaching from Detroit to take over
the fort, and the Ottawas hurriedly left for their villages.

For nearly two years the garrison at Michilimackinac lived in peace. In
the spring of 1763 they were resting in a false security. Captain George
Etherington, who was in command, heard that the Indians were on the
war-path and that the fort was threatened; but he treated the report
lightly. It is noteworthy, too, that Henry, who was in daily contact
with the French settlers and Indians, and had his agents scattered
throughout the  Indian country, saw no cause for alarm. But it happened
that towards the end of May news reached the Indians at Michilimackinac
of the situation at Detroit, and with the news came a war-belt
signifying that they were to destroy the British garrison. A crowd of
Indians, chiefly Chippewas and Sacs, presently assembled at the post.
This was a usual thing in spring, and would cause no suspicion. The
savages, however, had planned to attack the fort on June 4, the birthday
of George III. The British were to celebrate the day by sports and
feasting, and the Chippewas and Sacs asked to be allowed to entertain
the officers with a game of lacrosse. Etherington expressed pleasure at
the suggestion, and told the chiefs who waited on him that he would back
his friends the Chippewas against their Sac opponents. On the morning of
the 4th posts were set up on the wide plain behind the fort, and tribe
was soon opposed to tribe. The warriors appeared on the field with
moccasined feet, and otherwise naked save for breech-cloths. Hither and
thither the ball was batted, thrown, and carried. Player pursued player,
tripping, slashing, shouldering each other, and shouting in their
excitement as command of the ball passed with the fortunes of the game
from Chippewa to Sac and from Sac to Chippewa. Etherington and
Lieutenant Leslie were standing near the gate, interested spectators of
the game; and all about, and scattered throughout the fort, were squaws
with stoical faces, each holding tight about her a gaudily coloured
blanket. The game was at its height, when a player threw the ball to a
spot near the gate of the fort. There was a wild rush for it; and, as
the gate was reached, lacrosse sticks were cast aside, the squaws threw
open their blankets, and the players seized the tomahawks and knives
held out in readiness to them. The shouts of play were changed to
war-whoops. Instantly Etherington and Leslie were seized and hurried to
a near-by wood. Into the fort the horde dashed. Here stood more squaws
with weapons; and before the garrison had time to seize their arms,
Lieutenant Jamette and fifteen soldiers were slain and scalped, and the
rest made prisoners, while the French inhabitants stood by, viewing the
tragedy with apparent indifference.

Etherington, Leslie, and the soldiers were held close prisoners. A day
or two after the capture of the fort a Chippewa chief, _Le Grand Sable_,
who had not been present at the  massacre, returned from his
wintering-ground. He entered a hut where a number of British soldiers
were bound hand and foot, and brutally murdered five of them. The
Ottawas, it will be noted, had taken no part in the capture of
Michilimackinac. In fact, owing to the good offices of their priest,
they acted towards the British as friends in need. A party of them from
L'Arbre Croche presently arrived on the scene and prevented further
massacre. Etherington and Leslie were taken from the hands of the
Chippewas and removed to L'Arbre Croche. From this place Etherington
sent a message to Green Bay, ordering the commandant to abandon the fort
there. He then wrote to Gladwyn at Detroit, giving an account of what
had happened and asking aid. This message was carried to Detroit by
Father du Jaunay, who made the journey in company with seven Ottawas and
eight Chippewas commanded by Kinonchanek, a son of Minavavna. But, as we
know, Gladwyn was himself in need of assistance, and could give none.
The prisoners at L'Arbre Croche, however, were well treated, and finally
taken to Montreal by way of the Ottawa river, under an escort of
friendly Indians.

On the southern shore of Lake Erie, where  the city of Erie now stands,
was the fortified post of Presqu'isle, a stockaded fort with several
substantial houses. It was considered a strong position, and its
commandant, Ensign John Christie, had confidence that he could hold out
against any number of Indians that might beset him. The news brought by
Cuyler when he visited Presqu'isle, after the disaster at Point Pelée,
put Christie on his guard. Presqu'isle had a blockhouse of unusual
strength, but it was of wood, and inflammable. To guard against fire,
there was left at the top of the building an opening through which water
could be poured in any direction. The blockhouse stood on a tongue of
land--on the one side a creek, on the other the lake. The most serious
weakness of the position was that the banks of the creek and the lake
rose in ridges to a considerable height, commanding the blockhouse and
affording a convenient shelter for an attacking party within musket
range.

Christie had twenty-four men, and believed that he had nothing to fear,
when, on June 15, some two hundred Wyandots arrived in the vicinity.
These Indians were soon on the ridges, assailing the blockhouse. Arrows
tipped with burning tow and balls of blazing  pitch rained upon the
roof, and the utmost exertions of the garrison were needed to extinguish
the fires. Soon the supply of water began to fail. There was a well near
by on the parade-ground, but this open space was subject to such a hot
fire that no man would venture to cross it. A well was dug in the
blockhouse, and the resistance continued. All day the attack was kept
up, and during the night there was intermittent firing from the ridges.
Another day passed, and at night came a lull in the siege. A demand was
made to surrender. An English soldier who had been adopted by the
savages, and was aiding them in the attack, cried out that the
destruction of the fort was inevitable, that in the morning it would be
fired at the top and bottom, and that unless the garrison yielded they
would all be burnt to death. Christie asked till morning to consider;
and, when morning came, he agreed to yield up the fort on condition that
the garrison should be allowed to march to the next post. But as his men
filed out they were seized and bound, then cast into canoes and taken to
Detroit. Their lives, however, were spared; and early in July, when the
Wyandots made with Gladwyn the peace which they afterwards  broke,
Christie and a number of his men were the first prisoners given up.

A few miles inland, south of Presqu'isle, on the trade-route leading to
Fort Pitt, was a rude blockhouse known as Le Bœuf. This post was at the
end of the portage from Lake Erie, on Alleghany Creek, where the canoe
navigation of the Ohio valley began. Here were stationed Ensign George
Price and thirteen men. On June 18 a band of Indians arrived before Le
Bœuf and attacked it with muskets and fire-arrows. The building was soon
in flames. As the walls smoked and crackled the savages danced in wild
glee before the gate, intending to shoot down the defenders as they came
out. But there was a window at the rear of the blockhouse, through which
the garrison escaped to the neighbouring forest. When night fell the
party became separated. Some of them reached Fort Venango two days
later, only to find it in ruins. Price and seven men laboriously toiled
through the forest to Fort Pitt, where they arrived on June 26.
Ultimately, all save two of the garrison of Fort Le Bœuf reached safety.

The circumstances attending the destruction of Fort Venango on June 20
are but  vaguely known. This fort, situated near the site of the present
city of Franklin, had long been a centre of Indian trade. In the days of
the French occupation it was known as Fort Machault. After the French
abandoned the place in the summer of 1760 a new fort had been erected
and named Venango. In 1763 there was a small garrison here under
Lieutenant Gordon. For a time all that was known of its fate was
reported by the fugitives from Le Bœuf and a soldier named Gray, who had
escaped from Presqu'isle. These fugitives had found Venango completely
destroyed, and, in the ruins, the blackened bones of the garrison. It
was afterwards learned that the attacking Indians were Senecas, and that
they had tortured the commandant to death over a slow fire, after
compelling him to write down the reason for the attack. It was
threefold: (1) the British charged exorbitant prices for powder, shot,
and clothing; (2) when Indians were ill-treated by British soldiers they
could obtain no redress; (3) contrary to the wishes of the Indians,
forts were being built in their country, and these could mean but one
thing--the determination of the invaders to deprive them of their
hunting-grounds.

With the fall of Presqu'isle, Le Bœuf, and Venango, the trade-route
between Lake Erie and Fort Pitt was closed. Save for Detroit, Niagara,
and Pitt, not a British fort remained in the great hinterland; and the
soldiers at these three strong positions could leave the shelter of the
palisades only at the risk of their lives. Meanwhile, the frontiers of
the British settlements, as well as the forts, were being raided. Homes
were burnt and the inmates massacred. Traders were plundered and slain.
From the eastern slopes of the Alleghanies to the Mississippi no British
life was safe.




                               CHAPTER VI


                        THE RELIEF OF FORT PITT

On the tongue of land at the confluence of the Monongahela and Alleghany
rivers stood Fort Pitt, on the site of the old French fort Duquesne. It
was remote from any centre of population, but was favourably situated
for defence, and so strongly garrisoned that those in charge of it had
little to fear from any attempts of the Indians to capture it. Floods
had recently destroyed part of the ramparts, but these had been repaired
and a parapet of logs raised above them.

Captain Simeon Ecuyer, a Swiss soldier in the service of Great Britain
and an officer of keen intelligence and tried courage, was in charge of
Fort Pitt. He knew the Indians. He had quickly realized that danger
threatened his wilderness post, and had left nothing undone to make it
secure. On the fourth day of May, Ecuyer had written to Colonel Henry
Bouquet, who was stationed  at Philadelphia, saying that he had received
word from Gladwyn that he 'was surrounded by rascals.' Ecuyer did not
treat this alarm lightly. He not only repaired the ramparts and made
them stronger, but also erected palisades within them to surround the
dwellings. Everything near the fort that could give shelter to a lurking
foe was levelled to the ground. There were in Fort Pitt at this time
about a hundred women and their children--families of settlers who had
come to the fertile Ohio valley to take up homes. These were provided
with shelter in houses made shot-proof. Small-pox had broken out in the
garrison, and a hospital was prepared under the drawbridge, where the
patients in time of siege would be in no danger from musket-balls or
arrows. But the best defence of Fort Pitt was the capacity of
Ecuyer--brave, humorous, foresighted; a host in himself--giving courage
to his men and making even the women and children think lightly of the
power of the Indians.

It was nearly three weeks after the siege of Detroit had begun that the
savages appeared in force about Fort Pitt. On May 27 a large band of
Indians came down the Alleghany bearing packs of furs, in payment for
which  they demanded guns, knives, tomahawks, powder, and shot, and
would take nothing else. Soon after their departure word was brought to
Ecuyer of the murder of some traders and settlers not far from the fort.
From that time until the beginning of August it was hazardous for any
one to venture outside the walls; but for nearly a month no attack was
to be made on the fort itself. However, as news of the capture of the
other forts reached the garrison, and as nearly all the messengers sent
to the east were either slain or forced to return, it was evident that,
in delaying the attack on Fort Pitt, the Indians were merely gathering
strength for a supreme effort against the strongest position in the
Indian territory.

On June 22 a large body of Indians assembled in the forest about the
fort, and, creeping stealthily within range of its walls, opened fire
from every side. It was the garrison's first experience of attack; some
of the soldiers proved a trifle overbold, and two of them were killed.
The firing, however, lasted but a short time. Ecuyer selected a spot
where the smoke of the muskets was thickest, and threw shells from his
howitzers into the midst of the warriors, scattering  them in hurried
flight. On the following day a party came within speaking distance, and
their leader, Turtle's Heart, a Delaware chief, informed Ecuyer that all
the western and northern forts had been cut off, and that a host of
warriors were coming to destroy Fort Pitt and its garrison. He begged
Ecuyer to withdraw the inmates of the fort while there was yet time. He
would see to it that they were protected on their way to the eastern
settlements. He added that when the Ottawas and their allies arrived,
all hope for the lives of the inhabitants of Fort Pitt would be at an
end. All this Turtle's Heart told Ecuyer out of 'love for the British.'
The British officer, with fine humour, thanked him for his consideration
for the garrison, but told him that he could hold out against all the
Indians in the woods. He could be as generous as Turtle's Heart, and so
warned him that the British were coming to relieve Fort Pitt with six
thousand men; that an army of three thousand was ascending the Great
Lakes to punish the Ottawa Confederacy; and that still another force of
three thousand had gone to the frontiers of Virginia. 'Therefore,' he
said, 'take pity on your women and children, and get out of the way as
soon as possible.  We have told you this in confidence, out of our great
solicitude, lest any of you should be hurt; and,' he added, 'we hope
that you will not tell the other Indians, lest they should escape from
our vengeance,' The howitzers and the story of the approaching hosts had
their effect, and the Indians vanished into the surrounding forest. For
another month Fort Pitt had comparative peace, and the garrison
patiently but watchfully awaited a relieving force which Amherst was
sending. In the meantime news came of the destruction of Presqu'isle, Le
Bœuf, and Venango; and the fate of the garrisons, particularly at the
last post, warned the inhabitants of Fort Pitt what they might expect if
they should fall into the hands of the Indians.

On July 26 some Indian ambassadors, among them Turtle's Heart, came to
the post with a flag of truce. They were loud in their protestations of
friendship, and once more solicitous for the safety of the garrison. The
Ottawas, they said, were coming in a vast horde, to 'seize and eat up
everything' that came in their way. The garrison's only hope of escape
would be to vacate the fort speedily and 'go home to their wives and
children.' Ecuyer replied that he would never abandon  his position 'as
long as a white man lives in America.' He despised the Ottawas, he said,
and was 'very much surprised at our brothers the Delawares for proposing
to us to leave this place and go home. This is our home.' His humour was
once more in evidence in the warning he gave the Indians against
repeating their attack on the fort: 'I will throw bomb-shells, which
will burst and blow you to atoms, and fire cannon among you, loaded with
a whole bagful of bullets. Therefore take care, for I don't want to hurt
you.'

The Indians now gave up all hope of capturing Fort Pitt by deception,
and prepared to take it by assault. That very night they stole within
range, dug shelter-pits in the banks of the Alleghany and Monongahela,
and at daybreak began a vigorous attack on the garrison. Musket-balls
came whistling over the ramparts and smote every point where a soldier
showed himself. The shrieking balls and the wild war-whoops of the
assailants greatly alarmed the women and children; but never for a
moment was the fort in real danger or did Ecuyer or his men fear
disaster. So carefully had the commandant seen to his defences, that,
although hundreds of missiles fell within the confines of the fort, only
one man was killed and only seven were wounded. Ecuyer himself was among
the wounded: one of two arrows that fell within the fort had, to use his
own words, 'the insolence to make free' with his 'left leg.' From July
27 to August 1 this horde of Delawares, Shawnees, Wyandots, and Mingoes
kept up the attack. Then, without apparent cause, as suddenly as they
had arrived, they all disappeared. To the garrison the relief from
constant vigil, anxious days, and sleepless nights was most welcome.

The reason for this sudden relief was that the red men had learned of a
rich prize for them, now approaching Fort Pitt. Bouquet, with a party of
soldiers, was among the defiles of the Alleghanies. The fort could wait;
the Indians would endeavour to annihilate Bouquet's force as they had
annihilated Braddock's army in the same region eight years before; and
if successful, they could then at their leisure return to Fort Pitt and
starve it out or take it by assault.

In June, when Amherst had finally come to the conclusion that he had a
real war on his hands--and had, as we have seen, dispatched Dalyell to
Detroit--he had, at the same time, sent orders to Colonel Bouquet to get
ready a  force for the relief of Fort Pitt. Bouquet, like Ecuyer, was a
Swiss soldier, and the best man in America for this particular task.
After seven years' experience in border warfare he was as skilled in
woodcraft as the Indians themselves. He had now to lead a force over the
road, two hundred odd miles long, which connected Fort Pitt with
Carlisle, his point of departure in Pennsylvania; but every foot of the
road was known to him. In 1758, when serving under General Forbes, he
had directed the construction of this road, and knew the strength of
every fort and blockhouse on the way; even the rivers and creeks and
morasses and defiles were familiar to him. Best of all, he had a courage
and a military knowledge that inspired confidence in his men and
officers. Cool, calculating, foreseeing, dauntlessly brave--there was
not in the New World at this time a better soldier than this heroic
Swiss.

Amherst was in a bad way for troops. The only available forces for the
relief of Fort Pitt were 242 men of the 42nd Highlanders--the famous
Black Watch--with 133 of the 77th (Montgomery's) Highlanders, and some
Royal Americans. These, with a few volunteers, made up a contingent 550
strong. It was a  force all too small for the task before it, and the
majority of the soldiers had but recently arrived from the West Indies
and were in wretched health.

Bouquet had sent instructions to Carlisle to have supplies ready for him
and sufficient wagons assembled there for the expedition, but when he
reached the place at the end of June he found that nothing had been
done. The frontier was in a state of paralysis from panic. Over the
entire stretch of country from Fort Pitt the Indians were on the
war-path. Every day brought tragic stories of the murder of settlers and
the destruction of their homes. There was no safety outside the
precincts of the feeble forts that dotted the Indian territory. Bouquet
had hoped for help from the settlers and government of Pennsylvania; but
the settlers thought only of immediate safety, and the government was
criminally negligent in leaving the frontier of the state unprotected,
and would vote neither men nor money for defence. But they must be saved
in spite of themselves. By energetic efforts, in eighteen days after his
arrival at Carlisle, Bouquet was ready for the march. He began his
campaign with a wise precaution. The last important fort on the road to
Pitt was Ligonier, about one hundred and fifty miles from Carlisle. It
would be necessary to use this post as a base; but it was beset by
Indians and in danger of being captured. Lieutenant Archibald Blane in
charge of it was making a gallant defence against a horde of savages.
Bouquet, while waiting at Carlisle, engaged guides and sent in advance
thirty Highlanders, carefully selected men, to strengthen the garrison
under Blane. These, by keeping off the main trail and using every
precaution, succeeded in reaching the fort without mishap.

[Illustration: COLONEL HENRY BOUQUET
From a contemporary painting]

Bouquet led his force westward. Sixty of his soldiers were so ill that
they were unable to march and had to be carried in wagons. It was
intended that the sick should take the place of the men now in Forts
Bedford and Ligonier, and thus help to guard the rear. The road was
found to be in frightful condition. The spring freshets had cut it up;
deep gullies crossed the path; and the bridges over the streams had been
in most cases washed away. As the little army advanced, panic-stricken
settlers by the way told stories of the destruction of homes and the
slaughter of friends. Fort Bedford, where Captain Lewis Ourry was in
command, was reached  on the 25th. Here three days were spent, and
thirty more guides were secured to serve as an advance-guard of scouts
and give warning of the presence of enemies. Bouquet had tried his
Highlanders at this work; but they were unfamiliar with the forest, and,
as they invariably got lost, were of no value as scouts. Leaving his
invalided officers and men at Bedford, Bouquet, with horses rested and
men refreshed, pressed forward and arrived at Ligonier on August 2.
Preparations had now to be made for the final dash to Fort Pitt, fifty
odd miles away, over a path that was beset by savages, who also occupied
all the important passes. It would be impossible to get through without
a battle--a wilderness battle--and the thought of the Braddock disaster
was in the minds of all. But Bouquet was not a Braddock, and he was
experienced in Indian warfare. To attempt to pass ambuscades with a long
train of cumbersome wagons would be to invite disaster; so he discarded
his wagons and heavier stores, and having made ready three hundred and
forty pack-horses loaded with flour, he decided to set out from Ligonier
on the 4th of August. It was planned to reach Bushy Creek--'Bushy Run,'
as Bouquet called it--on the following  day, and there rest and refresh
horses and men. In the night a dash would be made through the dangerous
defile at Turtle Creek; and, if the high broken country at this point
could be passed without mishap, the rest of the way could be easily won.

At daylight the troops were up and off. It was an oppressively hot
August morning, and no breath of wind stirred the forest. Over the rough
road trudged the long line of sweltering men. In advance were the
scouts; then followed several light companies of the Black Watch; then
the main body of the little army; and in the rear came the toiling
pack-horses. Until noon the soldiers marched, panting and tortured by
mosquitoes, but buoyed up by the hope that at Bushy Run they would be
able to quench their burning thirst and rest until nightfall. By one
o'clock in the afternoon they had covered seventeen miles and were
within a mile and a half of their objective point. Suddenly in their
front they heard the sharp reports of muskets; the firing grew in
intensity: the advance-guard was evidently in contact with a
considerable body of Indians. Two light companies were rushed forward to
their support, and with fixed bayonets cleared the path. This, however,
was but a temporary success. The Indians merely changed their position
and appeared on the flanks in increased numbers. From the shelter of
trees the foe were creating havoc among the exposed troops, and a
general charge was necessary. Highlanders and Royal Americans, acting
under the directing eye of Bouquet, again drove the Indians back with
the bayonet. Scarcely had this been accomplished when a fusillade was
heard in the rear. The convoy was attacked, and it was necessary to fall
back to its support. Until nightfall, around a bit of elevated
ground--called Edge Hill by Bouquet--on which the convoy was drawn up,
the battle was waged. About the pack-horses and stores the soldiers
valiantly fought for seven hours against their invisible foe. At length
darkness fell, and the exhausted troops could take stock of their losses
and snatch a brief, broken rest. In this day of battle two officers were
killed and four wounded, and sixty of the rank and file were killed or
wounded.

Flour-bags were piled in a circle, and within this the wounded were
placed. Throughout the night a careful watch was kept; but the enemy
made no attack during the darkness, merely firing an occasional shot and
from time  to time uttering defiant yells. They were confident that
Bouquet's force would be an easy prey, and waited for daylight to renew
the battle.

The soldiers had played a heroic part. Though unused to forest warfare,
they had been cool as veterans in Indian fighting, and not a man had
fired a shot without orders. But the bravest of them looked to the
morning with dread. They had barely been able to hold their own on this
day, and by morning the Indians would undoubtedly be greatly
strengthened. The cries and moans of the wounded vividly reminded them
of what had already happened. Besides, they were worn out with marching
and fighting; worse than physical fatigue and more trying than the
enemy's bullets was torturing thirst; and not a drop of water could be
obtained at the place where they were hemmed in.

By the flickering light of a candle Bouquet penned one of the noblest
letters ever written by a soldier in time of battle. He could hardly
hope for success, and defeat meant the most horrible of deaths; but he
had no craven spirit, and his report to Amherst was that of a true
soldier--a man 'whose business it is to die.' After giving a detailed
account of the  occurrences leading up to this attack and a calm
statement of the events of the day, and paying a tribute to his
officers, whose conduct, he said, 'is much above my praise,' he added:
'Whatever our fate may be, I thought it necessary to give Your
Excellency this information.... I fear unsurmountable difficulties in
protecting and transporting our provisions, being already so much
weakened by the loss in this day of men and horses.' Sending a messenger
back with this dispatch, he set himself to plan for the morrow.

At daybreak from the surrounding wood the terrifying war-cries of the
Indians fell on the ears of the troops. Slowly the shrill yells came
nearer; the Indians were endeavouring to strike terror into the hearts
of their foes before renewing the fight, knowing that troops in dread of
death are already half beaten. When within five hundred yards of the
centre of the camp the Indians began firing. The troops replied with
great steadiness. This continued until ten in the morning. The wounded
within the barricade lay listening to the sounds of battle, ever
increasing in volume, and the fate of Braddock's men rose before them.
It seemed certain that their sufferings must end in death--and what a
death!  The pack-horses, tethered at a little distance from the
barricade, offered an easy target, against which the Indians soon
directed their fire, and the piteous cries of the wounded animals added
to the tumult of the battle. Some of the horses, maddened by wounds,
broke their fastenings and galloped into the forest. But the kilted
Highlanders and the red-coated Royal Americans gallantly fought on.
Their ranks were being thinned; the fatiguing work of the previous day
was telling on them; their throats were parched and their tongues
swollen for want of water. Bouquet surveyed the field. He saw his men
weakening under the terrible strain, and realized that something must be
done promptly. The Indians were each moment becoming bolder, pressing
ever nearer and nearer.

Then he conceived one of the most brilliant movements known in Indian
warfare. He ordered two companies, which were in the most exposed part
of the field, to fall back as though retreating within the circle that
defended the hill. At the same time the troops on the right and left
opened their files, and, as if to cover the retreat, occupied the space
vacated in a thinly extended line. The strategy worked even better than
Bouquet had expected. The  yelling Indians, eager for slaughter and
believing that the entire command was at their mercy, rushed pell-mell
from their shelter, firing sharp volleys into the protecting files.
These were forced back, and the savages dashed forward for the barricade
which sheltered the wounded. Meanwhile the two companies had taken
position on the right, and from a sheltering hill that concealed them
from the enemy they poured an effective fire into the savages. The
astonished Indians replied, but with little effect, and before they
could reload the Highlanders were on them with the bayonet. The red men
then saw that they had fallen into a trap, and turned to flee. But
suddenly on their left two more companies rose from ambush and sent a
storm of bullets into the retreating savages, while the Highlanders and
Royal Americans dashed after them with fixed bayonets. The Indians at
other parts of the circle, seeing their comrades in flight, scattered
into the forest. The defiant war-cries ceased and the muskets were
silent. The victory was complete: Bouquet had beaten the Indians in
their own woods and at their own game. About sixty of the enemy lay dead
and as many more wounded. In the two days of battle the British had
fifty killed,  sixty wounded, and five missing. It was a heavy price;
but this victory broke the back of the Indian war.

Many horses had been killed or had strayed away, and it was impossible
to transport all the stores to Fort Pitt. What could not be carried with
the force was destroyed, and the victors moved on to Bushy Creek, at a
slow pace on account of the wounded. No sooner had they pitched their
tents at the creek than some of the enemy again appeared; the
Highlanders, however, without waiting for the word of command, scattered
them with the bayonet. On the following day the march began for Fort
Pitt. Three days later, on August 10, the garrison of that fort heard
the skirl of the bagpipes and the beat of the drum, and saw through the
forest the plaids and plumes of the Highlanders and the red coats of the
Royal Americans. The gate was thrown open, and the victors of Edge Hill
marched in to the welcome of the men and women who for several months
had had no news from their friends in the east.

Bouquet had been instructed to invade the Ohio country and teach the
Shawnees and Delawares a lesson. But his men were worn out, half of them
were unfit for service, and  so deficient was he in horses and supplies
that this task had to be abandoned for the present year.

Pennsylvania and Virginia rejoiced. This triumph meant much to them.
Their borders would now be safe, but for occasional scalping parties.
Amherst was delighted, and took to himself much of the credit of
Bouquet's victory. He congratulated the noble Swiss officer on his
victory over 'a band of savages that would have been very formidable
against any troops but such as you had with you.' But it was not the
troops that won the battle; it was Bouquet. In the hands of a Braddock,
a Loudoun, an Abercromby, these war-worn veterans would have met a fate
such as befell Braddock's troops. But Bouquet animated every man with
his own spirit; he knew how to fight Indians; and at the critical
moment--'the fatal five minutes between victory and defeat'--he proved
himself the equal of any soldier who ever battled against the red men in
North America.

[Illustration: Bouquet\'s Routes - 1763 and 1764]




                              CHAPTER VII


                           DETROIT ONCE MORE

While Fort Pitt was holding out against the Ohio Indians and Bouquet was
forcing his way through the defiles of the Alleghanies to its relief,
Fort Detroit was still in a state of siege. The defeat of Dalyell's
force at Bloody Run had given the Indians a greater degree of
confidence. They had not dared, however, to make a general assault, but
had merely kept the garrison aware of their presence by desultory and
irritating attacks.

Nothing of importance took place until September 3. On this day the
little _Gladwyn_, which had gone to the Niagara with dispatches, entered
the Detroit river on her return trip. She was in charge of Captain
Horst, who was assisted by Jacobs as mate, and a crew of ten men. There
were likewise on board six Iroquois Indians. It was a calm morning; and
as the vessel lay with idly flapping sails waiting for a wind, the
Iroquois asked  permission to stretch their limbs on shore. Horst
foolishly granted their request, and as soon as they had made a landing
they disappeared into the forest, and no doubt hurried to Pontiac's
warriors to let them know how weakly manned was the schooner. The
weather continued calm, and by nightfall the _Gladwyn_ was still nine
miles below the fort. As darkness fell on that moonless night the
captain, alarmed at the flight of the Iroquois, posted a careful guard
and had his cannon at bow and stern made ready to resist attack. So dark
was the night that it was impossible to discern objects at any distance.
Along the black shore Indians were gathering, and soon a fleet of canoes
containing over three hundred warriors was slowly and silently moving
towards the becalmed _Gladwyn_. So noiseless was their approach that
they were within a few yards of the vessel before a watchful sentry, the
boatswain, discerned them. At his warning cry the crew leapt to their
quarters. The bow gun thundered out, and its flash gave the little band
on the boat a momentary glimpse of a horde of painted enemies. There was
no time to reload the gun. The canoes were all about the schooner, and
yelling warriors were clambering over the stern and  bow and swarming on
the deck. The crew discharged their muskets into the savages, and then
seized spears and hatchets and rushed madly at them, striking and
stabbing--determined at least to sell their lives dearly. For a moment
the Indians in the black darkness shrank back from the fierce attack.
But already Horst was killed and several of the crew were down with
mortal wounds. The vessel seemed lost when Jacobs--a dare-devil
seaman--now in command, ordered his men to blow up the vessel. A Wyandot
brave with some knowledge of English caught the words and shouted a
warning to his comrades. In an instant every warrior was over the side
of the vessel, paddling or swimming to get to safety. When morning broke
not an Indian was to be seen, and the little _Gladwyn_ sailed in triumph
to Fort Detroit. So greatly was the gallantry of her crew appreciated
that Amherst had a special medal struck and given to each of the
survivors.

Meanwhile, at Niagara, supplies were being conveyed over the portage
between the lower landing (now Lewiston) and Fort Schlosser, in
readiness for transport to the western posts. The Senecas claimed the
territory about Niagara, and the invasion of their land had  greatly
irritated them. They particularly resented the act of certain squatters
who, without their consent, had settled along the Niagara portage. Fort
Niagara was too strong to be taken by assault; but the Senecas hoped, by
biding their time, to strike a deadly blow against parties conveying
goods over the portage. The opportunity came on September 14. On this
day a sergeant and twenty-eight men were engaged in escorting down to
the landing a wagon-train and pack-horses which had gone up to Fort
Schlosser the day before loaded with supplies. The journey up the river
had been successfully made, and the party were returning, off their
guard and without the slightest thought of danger. But their every
movement had been watched by Indian scouts; and, at the Devil's Hole, a
short distance below the falls, five hundred warriors lay in ambush.
Slowly the returning provision-train wound its way along the bank of the
Niagara. On the right were high cliffs, thickly wooded; on the left a
precipice, whose base was fretted by the furious river. In the ears of
the soldiers and drivers sounded the thunderous roar of the mighty
cataract. As men and horses threaded their way past the Devil's Hole
savage yells  burst from the thick wood on their right, and
simultaneously a fusillade from a hundred muskets. The terrified horses
sprang over the cliffs, dragging wagons and drivers with them. When the
smoke cleared and the savages rushed forward, not a living member of the
escort nor a driver was to be seen. The leader of the escort, Philip
Stedman, had grasped the critical character of the situation at the
first outcry, and, putting spurs to his horse, had dashed into the
bushes. A warrior had seized his rein; but Stedman had struck him down
and galloped free for Fort Schlosser. A drummer-boy, in terror of his
life, had leapt over the cliff. By good fortune his drum-strap caught on
the branch of a dense tree; here he remained suspended until the Indians
left the spot, when he extricated himself. One of the teamsters also
escaped. He was wounded, but managed to roll into the bushes, and found
concealment in the thick undergrowth. The terrific musketry fire was
heard at the lower landing, where a body of troops of the 60th and 80th
regiments were encamped. The soldiers hastily armed themselves and in
great disorder rushed to the aid of the convoy. But the Indians were not
now at the Devil's Hole. The murderous work completed there,  they had
taken up a position in a thick wood half a mile farther down, where they
silently waited. They had chosen well their place of concealment; and
the soldiers in their excitement walked into the trap set for them.
Suddenly the ominous war-cries broke out, and before the troops could
turn to face the foe a storm of bullets had swept their left flank. Then
the warriors dashed from their ambush, tomahawking the living and
scalping both dead and dying. In a few minutes five officers and
seventy-six of the rank and file were killed and eight wounded, and out
of a force of over one hundred men only twenty escaped unhurt. The news
of this second disaster brought Major Wilkins up from Fort Niagara, with
every available man, to chastise the Indians. But when Wilkins and his
men arrived at the gruesome scene of the massacre not a red man was to
be found. The Indians had disappeared into the forest, after having
stripped their victims even of clothing. With a heavy heart the troops
marched back to Niagara, mourning the loss of many gallant comrades.
This was the greatest disaster, in loss of life, of the Pontiac War;
but, like the defeat of Dalyell, it had little effect on the progress of
the campaign. The Indians did  not follow it up; with scalps and plunder
they returned to their villages to exult in wild orgies over the
victory.

Detroit was still besieged; but the Indians were beginning to weaken,
and for the most part had given up hope of forcing the garrison to
surrender. They had been depending almost wholly on the settlement for
sustenance, and provisions were running low. Ammunition, too, was
well-nigh exhausted. They had replenished their supply during the summer
by the captures they had made, by the plundering of traders, and by
purchase or gift from the French of the Mississippi. Now they had little
hope of capturing more supply-boats; the traders were holding aloof;
and, since the arrival of definite news of the surrender to Great
Britain by France of the region east of the Mississippi, supplies from
the French had been stopped. If the Indians were to escape starvation
they must scatter to their hunting-grounds. There was another reason why
many of the chiefs deemed it wise to leave the vicinity of Detroit. They
had learned that Major Wilkins was on his way from Niagara with a strong
force and a fleet of bateaux loaded with ammunition and supplies. So,
early in October, the Potawatomis,  Wyandots, and Chippewas held a
council and concluded to bury the hatchet and make peace with Gladwyn.
On the 12th of the month a delegation from these tribes came to the fort
bearing a pipe of peace. Gladwyn knew from experience how little they
were to be trusted, but he gave them a seemingly cordial welcome. A
chief named Wapocomoguth acted as spokesman, and stated that the tribes
represented regretted 'their bad conduct' and were ready to enter into a
treaty of peace. Gladwyn replied that it was not in his power to grant
peace to Indians who without cause had attacked the troops of their
father the king of England; only the commander-in-chief could do that;
but he consented to a cessation of hostilities. He did this the more
willingly as the fort was short of food, and the truce would give him a
chance to lay in a fresh stock of provisions.

As the autumn frosts were colouring the maples with brilliant hues, the
Potawatomis, Wyandots, and Chippewas set out for fields where game was
plentiful; but for a time Pontiac with his Ottawas remained, threatening
the garrison, and still strong in his determination to continue the
siege. During the  summer he had sent ambassadors to Fort Chartres on
the Mississippi asking aid in fighting what he asserted to be the battle
of the French traders. Towards the end of July the messengers had
returned with word from Neyon de Villiers, the commandant of Fort
Chartres, saying that he must await more definite news as to whether
peace had been concluded between France and England. Pontiac still
hoped; and, after his allies had deserted, he waited at his camp above
Detroit for further word from Neyon. On the last day of October Louis
Césair Dequindre arrived at Detroit from Fort Chartres, with the
crushing answer that Neyon de Villiers could give him no aid. England
and France were at peace, and Neyon advised the Ottawas--no doubt with
reluctance, and only because of the demand of Amherst--to bury the
hatchet and give up the useless contest. To continue the struggle for
the present would be vain. Pontiac, though enraged by the desertion of
his allies, and by what seemed to him the cowardly conduct of the
French, determined at once to accept the situation, sue for peace, and
lay plans for future action. So far he had been fighting ostensibly for
the restoration of French rule. In future, whatever scheme he  might
devise, his struggle must be solely in the interests of the red man.
Next day he sent a letter to Gladwyn begging that the past might be
forgotten. His young men, he said, had buried their hatchets, and he
declared himself ready not only to make peace, but also to 'send to all
the nations concerned in the war' telling them to cease hostilities. No
trust could Gladwyn put in Pontiac's words; yet he assumed a friendly
bearing towards the treacherous conspirator, who for nearly six months
had given him no rest. Gladwyn's views of the situation at this time are
well shown in a report he made to Amherst. The Indians, he said, had
lost many of their best warriors, and would not be likely again to show
a united front. It was in this report that he made the suggestion,
unique in warfare, of destroying the Indians by the free sale of rum to
them. 'If y<sup>r</sup> Excellency,' he wrote, 'still intends to punish
them further for their barbarities, it may easily be done without any
expense to the Crown, by permitting a free sale of rum, which will
destroy them more effectually than fire and sword.' He thought that the
French had been the real plotters of the Indian war: 'I don't imagine
there will be any danger of their [the Indians]  breaking out again,
provided some examples are made of our good friends, the French, who set
them on.'

Pontiac and his band of savages paddled southward for the Maumee, and
spent the winter among the Indians along its upper waters. Again he
broke his plighted word and plotted a new confederacy, greater than the
Three Fires, and sent messengers with wampum belts and red hatchets to
all the tribes as far south as the mouth of the Mississippi and as far
north as the Red River. But his glory had departed. He could call; but
the warriors would not come when he summoned them.

Fort Detroit was freed from hostile Indians, and the soldiers could go
to rest without expecting to hear the call to arms. But before the year
closed it was to be the witness of still another tragedy. Two or three
weeks after the massacre at the Devil's Hole, Major Wilkins with some
six hundred troops started from Fort Schlosser with a fleet of bateaux
for Detroit. No care seems to have been taken to send out scouts to
learn if the forest bordering the river above the falls was free from
Indians, and, as the bateaux were slowly making their way against the
swift  stream towards Lake Erie, they were savagely attacked from the
western bank by Indians in such force that Wilkins was compelled to
retreat to Fort Schlosser. It was not until November that another
attempt was made to send troops and provisions to Detroit. Early in this
month Wilkins once more set out from Fort Schlosser, this time with
forty-six bateaux heavily laden with troops, provisions, and ammunition.
While they were in Lake Erie there arose one of the sudden storms so
prevalent on the Great Lakes in autumn. Instead of creeping along the
shore, the bateaux were in mid-lake, and before a landing could be made
the gale was on them in all its fury. There was a wild race for land;
but the choppy, turbulent sea beat upon the boats, of which some were
swamped and the crews plunged into the chilly waters. They were opposite
a forbidding shore, called by Wilkins Long Beach, but there was no time
to look for a harbour. An attempt was made to land, with disastrous
results. In all sixteen boats were sunk; three officers, four sergeants,
and sixty-three privates were drowned. The thirty bateaux brought ashore
were in a sinking condition; half the provisions were lost and the
remainder water-soaked. The  journey to Detroit was out of the question.
The few provisions saved would not last the remnant of Wilkins's own
soldiers for a month, and the ammunition was almost entirely lost. Even
if they succeeded in arriving safely at Detroit, they would only be an
added burden to Gladwyn; and so, sick at heart from failure and the loss
of comrades, the survivors beat their way back to the Niagara.

A week or two later a messenger arrived at Fort Detroit bearing news of
the disaster. The scarcity of provisions at Detroit was such that
Gladwyn decided to reduce his garrison. Keeping about two hundred men in
the fort, he sent the rest to Niagara. Then the force remaining at
Detroit braced themselves to endure a hard, lonely winter. Theirs was
not a pleasant lot. Never was garrison duty enjoyable during winter in
the northern parts of North America, but in previous winters at Detroit
the friendly intercourse between the soldiers and the settlers had made
the season not unbearable. Now, so many of the French had been
sympathizers with the besieging Indians, and, indeed, active in aiding
them, that the old relations could not be resumed. So, during this
winter of  1763-64, the garrison for the most part held aloof from the
French settlers, and performed their weary round of military duties,
longing for spring and the sight of a relieving force.




                              CHAPTER VIII


                       WINDING UP THE INDIAN WAR

Amherst was weary of America. Early in the summer of 1763 he had asked
to be relieved of his command; but it was not until October that General
Thomas Gage, then in charge of the government of Montreal, was appointed
to succeed him, and not until November 17, the day after Gage arrived in
New York, that Amherst sailed for England.

The new commander-in-chief was not as great a general as Amherst. It is
doubtful if he could have planned and brought to a successful conclusion
such campaigns as the siege of Louisbourg and the threefold march of
1760 on Montreal, which have given his predecessor a high place in the
military history of North America. But Gage was better suited for
winding up the Indian war. He knew the value of the officers familiar
with the Indian tribes, and was ready to act on their advice. Amherst
had not done this, and his  best officers were now anxious to resign.
George Croghan had resigned as assistant superintendent of Indian
Affairs, but was later induced by Gage to remain in office. Gladwyn was
'heartily wearied' of his command and hoped to 'be relieved soon'; Blane
and Ourry were tired of their posts; and the brave Ecuyer was writing in
despair: 'For God's sake, let me go and raise cabbages.' Bouquet, too,
although determined to see the war to a conclusion, was not satisfied
with the situation.

Meanwhile, Sir William Johnson was not idle among the tribes of the Six
Nations. The failure of Pontiac to reduce Fort Detroit and the victory
of Bouquet at Edge Hill had convinced the Iroquois that ultimately the
British would triumph, and, eager to be on the winning side, they
consented to take the field against the Shawnees and Delawares. In the
middle of February 1764, through Johnson's influence and by his aid, two
hundred Tuscaroras and Oneidas, under a half-breed, Captain Montour,
marched westward. Near the main branch of the Susquehanna they surprised
forty Delawares, on a scalping expedition against the British
settlements, and made prisoners of the entire party. A few weeks later a
number of Mohawks led by  Joseph Brant (Thayendanegea) put another band
of Delawares to rout, killing their chief and taking three prisoners.
These attacks of the Iroquois disheartened the Shawnees and Delawares
and greatly alarmed the Senecas, who, trembling lest their own country
should be laid waste, sent a deputation of four hundred of their chief
men to Johnson Hall--Sir William Johnson's residence on the Mohawk--to
sue for peace. It was agreed that the Senecas should at once stop all
hostilities, never again take up arms against the British, deliver up
all prisoners at Johnson Hall, cede to His Majesty the Niagara
carrying-place, allow the free passage of troops through their country,
renounce all intercourse with the Delawares and Shawnees, and assist the
British in punishing them. Thus, early in 1764, through the energy and
diplomacy of Sir William Johnson, the powerful Senecas were brought to
terms.

With the opening of spring preparations began in earnest for a twofold
invasion of the Indian country. One army was to proceed to Detroit by
way of Niagara and the Lakes, and another from Fort Pitt was to take the
field against the Delawares and the Shawnees. To Colonel John
Bradstreet, who in 1758 had  won distinction by his capture of Fort
Frontenac, was assigned the command of the contingent that was to go to
Detroit. Bradstreet was to punish the Wyandots of Sandusky, and likewise
the members of the Ottawa Confederacy if he should find them hostile. He
was also to relieve Gladwyn and re-garrison the forts captured by the
Indians in 1763. Bradstreet left Albany in June with a large force of
colonial troops and regulars, including three hundred French Canadians
from the St Lawrence, whom Gage had thought it wise to have enlisted, in
order to impress upon the Indians that they need no longer expect
assistance from the French in their wars against the British.

To prepare the way for Bradstreet's arrival Sir William Johnson had gone
in advance to Niagara, where he had called together ambassadors from all
the tribes, not only from those that had taken part in the war, but from
all within his jurisdiction. He had found a vast concourse of Indians
awaiting him. The wigwams of over a thousand warriors dotted the
low-lying land at the mouth of the river. In a few days the number had
grown to two thousand--representatives of nations as far east as Nova
Scotia, as far west as the  Mississippi, and as far north as Hudson Bay.
Pontiac was absent, nor were there any Delaware, Shawnee, or Seneca
ambassadors present. These were absent through dread; but later the
Senecas sent deputies to ratify the treaty made with Johnson in April.
When Bradstreet and his troops arrived negotiations were in full swing.
For nearly a month councils were held, and at length all the chiefs
present had entered into an alliance with the British. This
accomplished, Johnson, on August 6, left Niagara for his home, while
Bradstreet continued his journey towards Detroit.

Bradstreet halted at Presqu'isle. Here he was visited by pretended
deputies from the Shawnees and Delawares, who ostensibly sought peace.
He made a conditional treaty with them and agreed to meet them
twenty-five days later at Sandusky, where they were to bring their
British prisoners. From Presqu'isle he wrote to Bouquet at Fort Pitt,
saying that it would be unnecessary to advance into the Delaware
country, as the Delawares were now at peace. He also reported his
success, as he considered it, to Gage, but Gage was not impressed: he
disavowed the treaty and instructed Bouquet to continue his
preparations. Continuing his journey, Bradstreet rested at Sandusky,
where more Delawares waited on him and agreed to make peace. It was at
this juncture that he sent Captain Thomas Morris on his ill-starred
mission to the tribes of the Mississippi.[10]

Bradstreet was at Detroit by August 26, and at last the worn-out
garrison of the fort could rest after fifteen months of exacting duties.
Calling the Indians to a council, Bradstreet entered into treaties with
a number of chiefs, and pardoned several French settlers who had taken
an active part with the Indians in the siege of Detroit. He then sent
troops to occupy Michilimackinac, Green Bay, and Sault Ste Marie; and
sailed for Sandusky to meet the Delawares and Shawnees, who had promised
to bring in their prisoners. But none awaited him: the Indians had
deliberately deceived him and were playing for time  while they
continued their attacks on the border settlers. Here he received a
letter from Gage ordering him to disregard the treaty he had made with
the Delawares and to join Bouquet at Fort Pitt, an order which
Bradstreet did not obey, making the excuse that the low state of the
water in the rivers made impossible an advance to Fort Pitt. On October
18 he left Sandusky for Niagara, having accomplished nothing except
occupation of the forts. Having already blundered hopelessly in dealing
with the Indians, he was to blunder still further. On his way down Lake
Erie he encamped one night, when storm threatened, on an exposed shore,
and a gale from the north-east broke upon his camp and destroyed half
his boats. Two hundred and eighty of his soldiers had to march overland
to Niagara. Many of them perished; others, starved, exhausted,
frost-bitten, came staggering in by twos and threes till near the end of
December. The expedition was a fiasco. It blasted Bradstreet's
reputation, and made the British name for a time contemptible among the
Indians.

The other expedition from Fort Pitt has a different history. All through
the summer Bouquet had been recruiting troops for the  invasion of the
Delaware country. The soldiers were slow in arriving, and it was not
until the end of September that all was ready. Early in October Bouquet
marched out of Fort Pitt with one thousand provincials and five hundred
regulars. Crossing the Alleghany, he made his way in a north-westerly
direction until Beaver Creek was reached, and then turned westward into
the unbroken forest. The Indians of the Muskingum valley felt secure in
their wilderness fastness. No white soldiers had ever penetrated to
their country. To reach their villages dense woods had to be penetrated,
treacherous marshes crossed, and numerous streams bridged or forded. But
by the middle of October Bouquet had led his army, without the loss of a
man, into the heart of the Muskingum valley, and pitched his camp near
an Indian village named Tuscarawa, from which the inhabitants had fled
at his approach. The Delawares and Shawnees were terrified: the victor
of Edge Hill was among them with an army strong enough to crush to atoms
any war-party they could muster. They sent deputies to Bouquet. These at
first assumed a haughty mien; but Bouquet sternly rebuked them and
ordered them to meet him  at the forks of the Muskingum, forty miles
distant to the south-west, and to bring in all their prisoners. By the
beginning of November the troops were at the appointed place, where they
encamped. Bouquet then sent messengers to all the tribes telling them to
bring thither all the captives without delay. Every white man, woman,
and child in their hands, French or British, must be delivered up. After
some hesitation the Indians made haste to obey. About two hundred
captives were brought, and chiefs were left as hostages for the safe
delivery of others still in the hands of distant tribes. So far Bouquet
had been stern and unbending; he had reminded the Indians of their
murder of settlers and of their black treachery regarding the garrisons,
and hinted that except for the kindness of their British father they
would be utterly destroyed. He now unbent and offered them a generous
treaty, which was to be drawn up and arranged later by Sir William
Johnson. Bouquet then retraced his steps to Fort Pitt, and arrived there
on November 28 with his long train of released captives. He had won a
victory over the Indians greater than his triumph at Edge Hill, and all
the greater in that it was achieved without striking a blow.

There was still, however, important work to be done before any guarantee
of permanent peace in the hinterland was possible. On the eastern bank
of the Mississippi, within the country ceded to England by the Treaty of
Paris, was an important settlement over which the French flag still
flew, and to which no British troops or traders had penetrated. It was a
hotbed of conspiracy. Even while Bouquet was making peace with the
tribes between the Ohio and Lake Erie, Pontiac and his agents were
trying to make trouble for the British among the Indians of the
Mississippi.

[Illustration: Forts & Settlements on the Mississippi - 1764
from an old map by Tho^{s} Hutchins.]

French settlement on the Mississippi began at the village of Kaskaskia,
eighty-four miles north of the mouth of the Ohio. Six miles still
farther north was Fort Chartres, a strongly built stone fort capable of
accommodating three hundred men. From here, at some distance from the
river, ran a road to Cahokia, a village situated nearly opposite the
site of the present city of St Louis. The intervening country was
settled by prosperous traders and planters who, including their four
hundred negro slaves, numbered not less than two thousand. But when it
was learned that all the territory east of the great river had been
ceded to Britain, the settlers began to migrate to the opposite bank.
The French here were hostile to the incoming British, and feared lest
they might now lose the profitable trade with New Orleans. It was this
region that Gage was determined to occupy.

Already an effort had been made to reach Fort Chartres. In February 1764
Major Arthur Loftus had set out from New Orleans with four hundred men;
but, when about two hundred and forty miles north of his starting-point,
his two leading boats were fired upon by Indians. Six men were killed
and four wounded. To advance would mean the destruction of his entire
company. Loftus returned to New Orleans, blaming the French officials
for not supporting his enterprise, and indeed hinting that they were
responsible for the attack. Some weeks later Captain Philip Pittman
arrived at New Orleans with the intention of ascending the river; but
reports of the enmity of the Indians to the British made him abandon the
undertaking. So at the beginning of 1765 the French flag still flew over
Fort Chartres; and Saint-Ange, who had succeeded Neyon de Villiers as
commandant of the fort, was praying that the British might soon arrive
to relieve him from  a position where he was being daily importuned by
Pontiac or his emissaries for aid against what they called the common
foe.

But, if the route to Fort Chartres by way of New Orleans was too
dangerous, Bouquet had cleared the Ohio of enemies, and the country
which Gage sought to occupy was now accessible by way of that river. As
a preliminary step, George Croghan was sent in advance with presents for
the Indians along the route. In May 1765 Croghan left Fort Pitt
accompanied by a few soldiers and a number of friendly Shawnee and
Delaware chiefs. Near the mouth of the Wabash a prowling band of
Kickapoos attacked the party, killing several and making prisoners of
the rest. Croghan and his fellow-prisoners were taken to the French
traders at Vincennes, where they were liberated. They then went to
Ouiatanon, where Croghan held a council, and induced many chiefs to
swear fealty to the British. After leaving Ouiatanon, Croghan had
proceeded westward but a little way when he was met by Pontiac with a
number of chiefs and warriors. At last the arch-conspirator was ready to
come to terms. The French on the Mississippi would give him no
assistance. He realized now that his people were conquered,  and before
it was too late he must make peace with his conquerors. Croghan had no
further reason to continue his journey; so, accompanied by Pontiac, he
went to Detroit. Arriving there on August 17, he at once called a
council of the tribes in the neighbourhood. At this council sat Pontiac,
among chiefs whom he had led during the months of the siege of Detroit.
But it was no longer the same Pontiac: his haughty, domineering spirit
was broken; his hopes of an Indian empire were at an end. 'Father,' he
said at this council, 'I declare to all nations that I had made my peace
with you before I came here; and I now deliver my pipe to Sir William
Johnson, that he may know that I have made peace, and taken the king of
England to be my father in the presence of all the nations now
assembled.' He further agreed to visit Oswego in the spring to conclude
a treaty with Sir William Johnson himself. The path was now clear for
the advance of the troops to Fort Chartres. As soon as news of Croghan's
success reached Fort Pitt, Captain Thomas Sterling, with one hundred and
twenty men of the Black Watch, set out in boats for the Mississippi,
arriving on October 9 at Fort Chartres, the first British  troops to set
foot in that country. Next day Saint-Ange handed the keys of the fort to
Sterling, and the Union Jack was flung aloft. Thus, nearly three years
after the signing of the Treaty of Paris, the fleurs-de-lis disappeared
from the territory then known as Canada.

There is still to record the closing act in the public career of
Pontiac. Sir William Johnson, fearing that the Ottawa chief might fail
to keep his promise of visiting Oswego to ratify the treaty made with
Croghan at Detroit, sent Hugh Crawford, in March 1766, with belts and
messages to the chiefs of the Ottawa Confederacy. But Pontiac was
already preparing for his journey eastward. Nothing in his life was more
creditable than his bold determination to attend a council far from his
hunting-ground, at which he would be surrounded by soldiers who had
suffered treachery and cruelty at his hands--whose comrades he had
tortured and murdered.

On July 23 there began at Oswego the grand council at which Sir William
Johnson and Pontiac were the most conspicuous figures. For three days
the ceremonies and speeches continued; and on the third day Pontiac rose
in the assembly and made a promise that he  was faithfully to keep: 'I
take the Great Spirit to witness,' he said, 'that what I am going to say
I am determined steadfastly to perform.... While I had the French king
by the hand, I kept a fast hold of it; and now having you, father, by
the hand, I shall do the same in conjunction with all the western
nations in my district.'

Before the council ended Johnson presented to each of the chiefs a
silver medal engraved with the words: 'A pledge of peace and friendship
with Great Britain, confirmed in 1766.' He also loaded Pontiac and his
brother chiefs with presents; then, on the last day of July, the Indians
scattered to their homes.

For three years Pontiac, like a restless spirit, moved from camp to camp
and from hunting-ground to hunting-ground. There were outbreaks of
hostilities in the Indian country, but in none of these did he take
part. His name never appears in the records of those three years. His
days of conspiracy were at an end. By many of the French and Indians he
was distrusted as a pensioner of the British, and by the British traders
and settlers he was hated for his past deeds. In 1769 he visited the
Mississippi, and while at Cahokia he  attended a drunken frolic held by
some Indians. When he left the feast, stupid from the effects of rum, he
was followed into the forest by a Kaskaskia Indian, probably bribed by a
British trader. And as Pontiac lurched among the black shadows of the
trees, his pursuer crept up behind him, and with a swift stroke of the
tomahawk cleft his skull. Thus by a treacherous blow ended the career of
a warrior whose chief weapon had been treachery.

For twelve years England, by means of military officers, ruled the great
hinterland east of the Mississippi--a region vast and rich, which now
teems with a population immensely greater than that of the whole broad
Dominion of Canada--a region which is to-day dotted with such
magnificent cities as Chicago, Detroit, and Indianapolis. Unhappily,
England made no effort to colonize this wilderness empire. Indeed, as
Edmund Burke has said, she made 'an attempt to keep as a lair of wild
beasts that earth which God, by an express charter, had given to the
children of men.' She forbade settlement in the hinterland. She did this
ostensibly for the Indians, but in reality for the merchants in the
mother country. In a report of the  Lords Commissioners for Trade and
Plantations in 1772 are words which show that it was the intention of
the government to confine 'the western extent of settlements to such a
distance from the seaboard as that those settlements should lie within
easy reach of the trade and commerce of this kingdom, ... and also of
the exercise of that authority and jurisdiction ... necessary for the
preservation of the colonies in a due subordination to, and dependence
upon, the mother country.... It does appear to us that the extension of
the fur trade depends entirely upon the Indians being undisturbed in the
possession of their hunting-grounds.... Let the savages enjoy their
deserts in quiet. Were they driven from their forests the peltry trade
would decrease, and it is not impossible that worse savages would take
refuge in them.'

Much has been written about the stamp tax and the tea tax as causes of
the American revolution, but this determination to confine the colonies
to the Atlantic seaboard 'rendered the revolution inevitable.'[11] In
1778, three years after the sword was drawn, when an American force
under George Rogers Clark invaded the Indian country, England's weakly
garrisoned posts, then by the Quebec Act under the government of Canada,
were easily captured; and, when accounts came to be settled after the
war, the entire hinterland south of the Great Lakes, from the
Alleghanies to the Mississippi, passed to the United States.




                               FOOTNOTES


Footnote 1:

By the hinterland is meant, of course, the regions beyond the zone of
settlement; roughly, all west of Montreal and the Alleghanies.

Footnote 2:

For more about Sir William Johnson see _The War Chief of the Six
Nations_ in this Series.

Footnote 3:

Lucas's _A History of Canada, 1763-1812_, p. 58.

Footnote 4:

See the accompanying map. Except for these forts or trading-posts, the
entire region west of Montreal was at this time practically an unbroken
wilderness. There were on the north shore of the St Lawrence a few
scattered settlements, on Île Perrot and at Vaudreuil, and on the south
shore at the Cedars and Chateauguay; but anything like continuity of
settlement westward ceased with the island of Montreal.

Footnote 5:

In Rogers's journal of this trip no mention is made of Pontiac's name.
In _A Concise Account of North America_, published in 1765, with
Rogers's name on the title-page, a detailed account of a meeting with
Pontiac at the Cuyahoga is given, but this book seems to be of doubtful
authenticity. It was, however, accepted by Parkman.

Footnote 6:

Although Belêtre received Rogers and his men in no friendly spirit, he
seems soon to have become reconciled to British rule; for in 1763 he was
appointed to the first Legislative Council of Canada, and until the time
of his death in May 1793 he was a highly respected citizen of Quebec.

Footnote 7:

It is remarkable that Johnson in his private diary or in his official
correspondence makes no mention of Pontiac. The Ottawa chief apparently
played no conspicuous part in the plots of 1761 and 1762.

Footnote 8:

Gladwyn's illness in 1761 proved so severe that he had to take a journey
to England to recuperate; but he was back in Detroit as commandant in
August 1762.

Footnote 9:

This is the only recorded instance, except at Detroit, in which any
French took part with the Indians in the capture of a fort. And both
Godfroy and Miny Chesne had married Indian women.

Footnote 10:

Morris and his companions got no farther than the rapids of the Maumee,
where they were seized, stripped of clothing, and threatened with death.
Pontiac was now among the Miamis, still striving to get together a
following to continue the war. The prisoners were taken to Pontiac's
camp. But the Ottawa chief did not deem it wise to murder a British
officer on this occasion, and Morris was released and forced to retrace
his steps. He arrived at Detroit after the middle of September, only to
find that Bradstreet had already departed. The story will be found in
more detail in Parkman's _Conspiracy of Pontiac_.

Footnote 11:

Roosevelt's _The Winning of the West_, part i, p. 57.




                          BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE


The main source of information regarding the siege of Detroit is the
'Pontiac Manuscript.' This work has been translated several times, the
best and most recent translation being that by R. Clyde Ford for the
_Journal of Pontiac's Conspiracy, 1763_, edited by C. M. Burton.
Unfortunately, the manuscript abruptly ends in the middle of the
description of the fight at Bloody Run.

The following works will be found of great assistance to the student:
Rogers's _Journals_; Cass's _Discourse before the Michigan Historical
Society_; Henry's _Travels and Adventures in Canada and the Indian
Territories_; Parkman's _Conspiracy of Pontiac_ (the fullest and best
treatment of the subject); Ellis's _Life of Pontiac, the Conspirator_ (a
digest of Parkman's work); _Historical Account of the Expedition against
the Ohio Indians, 1764_ (authorship doubtful, but probably written by Dr
William Smith of Philadelphia); Stone's _The Life and Times of Sir
William Johnson_; Drake's _Indians of North America_; _Handbook of
American Indians North of Mexico_ and _Handbook of Indians of Canada_;
Ogg's _The Opening of the Mississippi_; Roosevelt's _The Winning of the
West_; Carter's _The Illinois Country_; Beer's _British Colonial Policy,
1754-1765_;  Adair's _The History of the American Indians_; the _Annual
Register_ for the years 1763, 1764, and 1774; Harper's _Encyclopedia of
United States History_; Pownall's _The Administration of the Colonies_;
Bancroft's _History of the United States_; Kingsford's _History of
Canada_; Winsor's _Narrative and Critical History of America_ and his
_Mississippi Basin_; Gordon's _History of Pennsylvania_; Lucas's _A
History of Canada, 1763-1812_; Gayarré's _History of Louisiana_; and
M'Master's _History of the People of the United States_.

In 1766 there was published in London a somewhat remarkable drama
entitled _Ponteach: or the Savages of America_. A part of this will be
found in the appendices to Parkman's _Conspiracy of Pontiac_. Parkman
suggests that Robert Rogers may have had a hand in the composition of
this drama.




                                 INDEX


Amherst, Sir Jeffery,
  in command of the British forces in America, 7, 18, 24, 25,  121.
  his opinion and tactless treatment of the Indians, 7-8, 30-31, 32.
  at last aroused, 62, 94-95, 106, 115.

Bâby, Jacques, provisions Fort Detroit, 51-2, 56, 64.
Beaver War, the, 16.
  See Pontiac War.
Belêtre, Sieur de, hands over Fort Detroit to Rogers, 21-23 and footnote
  6.
Black Watch (42nd Highlanders), the, 95, 99, 100-101, 103-105.
  at Fort Chartres, 133.
Blane, Lieut. Archibald, his defence of Fort Ligonier, 97, 122.
Bloody Run, battle of, 63-67.
Bocquet, Father, at Fort Detroit, 40.
Bouquet, Colonel Henry,
  his opinion of the Indians, 7-8, 30.
  his relief expedition to Fort Pitt, 88, 94, 95, 96-99, 105-106, 125,
    127.
  his victories at Bushy Run and Edge Hill, 99-105.
  his bloodless victory over the Delawares and Shawnees, 127-9.
  a great soldier, 95,  106,
Braddock, General, his disaster at Duquesne, 94,  102, 106.
Bradstreet, Colonel John, his disastrous expedition, 123-7.
Brant, Joseph, the Mohawk chief, 123.
British in America, their sad plight, 87.
  See Great Britain and Thirteen Colonies.
Burke, Edmund, his criticism of Britain's colonial policy, 136.
Bushy Run, battle of, 98-100.

Campau, Louis, French settler at Detroit, 59, 60.
Campbell, Captain Donald,
  at Fort Detroit, 22, 23, 46.
  reveals an Indian plot, 24.
  kept prisoner by Pontiac, 49-50, 53.
  murdered, 61, 70.
Canada, after the Conquest, 6-7, 18-19.
Chapoton, Jean Baptiste, his mission to Pontiac, 48-49.
Chevalier, Louis, his valuable services at Fort St Joseph, 72.
Chesne, Miny, assists Indians at Fort Miami, 74.
Chesne, Pierre. See La Butte.
Chippewas, the, 12, 13, 34, 39, 42, 46, 47, 61, 67, 77-79, 80-81, 82, 114.
Christie, Ensign John, his surrender of Fort Presqu'isle, 83-85.
Clark, Colonel George Rogers, 137-138.
Crawford, Hugh, his mission to the Ottawa Confederacy, 134.
Croghan, George,
  assistant-superintendent of the Indians, 30, 32, 122.
  his successful mission, 132-133.
Cuillerier, Antoine, a French settler at Detroit, 59.
Curie, Mademoiselle, and Sir William Johnson, 28.
Cuyler, Lieut. Abraham,
  his ill-fated convoy, 53-55.
  reaches Fort Detroit, 56, 59.

Dalyell, Captain James,
  his relief expedition reaches Fort Detroit, 62-63.
  killed at Bloody Run, 63-67.
Delawares, the, 14-15, 16, 17,  29, 122-123,  126, 128-189.
Devil's Hole, Indian massacre at, 109-112.

Ecuyer, Captain Simeon, his defence of Fort Pitt, 88-94, 122.
Edge Hill, battle of, 100-105.
Etherington, Captain George, trapped at Fort Michilimackinac, 79-82.

Fisher, James, and his family, slaughter of, 47.
Fort Bedford, 97.
Fort Chartres,
  a French post, 2, 115, 130-131.
  taken over by the British, 133-134.
Fort Detroit, 7, 9, 10,  19, 33.
  given up to the British, 21-23, 24.
  Sir William Johnson's mission at, 27-29.
  the settlers and settlement at, 37-40.
  Pontiac's plot to seize the fort, 41-46.
  and his siege 47-62, 107.
  the counter-attack at Bloody Run fails, 63-67.
  the siege nearing an end, 113-114, 116, 117, 119-120.
  relieved by Bradstreet, 126.
  Pontiac makes peace, 133.
Fort Frontenac, destroyed by Bradstreet, 19.
Fort Green Bay, 19, 28, 77, 82, 126.
Fort Le Bœuf, 19.
  burned, 85.
Fort Lévis, 19.
Fort Lewiston, 19.
Fort Ligonier, 97, 98.
Fort Miami, 19, 23.
  looted, 72-74.
Fort Michilimackinac, 7,  19, 24, 28, 126.
  captured by Indians, 77-82.
Fort Niagara, 2 10, 19, 26, 28, 53, 55, 87.
  the massacre at Devil's Hole, 109-112.
  Indian council at, 124-125.
Fort Oswego, 19.
  Indian council at, 134-135.
Fort Ouiatanon, 19, 23, 132.
  captured by Indians, 75-76.
Fort Pitt,  24, 26, 87.
  attacked by Indians, 88-94.
  relieved by Bouquet, 105, 127.
Fort Presqu'isle, 19, 55.
  captured by Indians, 83-84.
  Bradstreet's mission at, 125.
Fort St Joseph, 19, 28, 77.
  the attack on, 71-72.
Fort Sandusky, 19,  62.
  destroyed, 68-69.
  Bradstreet at, 126.
Fort Sault Ste Marie, 19, 126.
  burned, 77.
Fort Schlosser,  52, 54,  109, 118.
Fort Venango, 19, 26.
  destroyed, 85-86.
France, her position in America after the Conquest, 1-2, 113.
  See New France.

Gage, General,  18.
  succeeds Amherst, 121-122, 124,  127, 131.
Gladwyn, Major Henry,
  his means of exterminating the Indians, 8, 116.
  commandant of Fort Detroit,  31, 32, 40, 70, 119, 122.
  defeats Pontiac's plot, 41-6.
  his defence of the fort, 47-67, 114, 116.
Godfroy, Jacques, 48-49.
  assists Indians at Fort Miami, 74.
Gordon, Lieut., his horrible fate at Fort Venango, 86.
Grant, Captain, with Dalyell at Bloody Run, 65-67.
Great Britain, her colonial policy in America, 136-138.
  See Thirteen Colonies.

Henry, Alexander, 5, 79-80.
  his experience at Michilimackinac, 78-79.
Holmes, Ensign Robert, 31.
  killed at Fort Miami, 72-73.
Horst, Captain, killed in an Indian attack on the 'Gladwyn,' 107-109.

Indians,
  and the British colonists, 2-3, 5, 26, 34, 41, 87, 96-97.
  and the French, 3-4, 39, 42, 132.
  their hostility to the British, 6, 7 26-27, 29, 32,  54, 86-87.
  peaceful missions to, 25-9, 124-125, 129, 133, 134-135.
  and the Treaty of Paris, 31-32.
  and Britain's colonial policy, 137.
  See Pontiac War.
Iroquois, their antagonism towards the French, 3, 15.
  See Six Nations.

Jacobs, the dare-devil mate of the 'Gladwyn,' 107-109.
Jamette, Lieut., 77.
  slain and scalped, 81.
Jaunay, Father du, with the Ottawas, 78, 82.
Jenkins, Lieut. Edward, 31.
  his lucky escape at Fort Ouiatanon, 75-76.
Johnson, Sir William, Indian superintendent, 4, 5, 15-16.
  his warning to Amherst, 30.
  his Indian missions of peace, 25-29, 122-123, 124-125, 129, 133,
    134-135.
  his character, 8-10.

La Butte, 27, 45.
  his mission to Pontiac, 48-49.
Leslie, Lieut., captured by Indians at Michilimackinac, 81-82.
Loftus, Major Arthur, fails to reach Fort Chartres, 131.
Long Beach, disaster at, 118-119.
Louisiana,
  after the Conquest, 2, 7,  134.
  and the Indians,  76-77 113, 116-117.
  See New France.

M'Dougall, Lieut.,
  a prisoner with Pontiac, 49-50.
  escapes to Fort Detroit, 61.
Mahiganne, a friendly Ottawa, 43-44.
Meloche, Francois, a French settler at Detroit, 59.
Meloche, Jean Baptiste, French settler at Detroit, 50, 58.
Minavavna, a Chippewa chief,   78 78.
Montgomery's (77th) Highlanders, 95,  103-105.
Montour, Captain, an Iroquois leader, 122.
Morris, Captain Thomas, his ill-starred mission, 126 and footnote 10.

Navarre, Robert, keeper of the notarial records at Detroit, 43-44, 59, 60.
New England States, 5.
  See Thirteen Colonies.
New France,
  and the Conquest, 1-2, 6 19, 25.
  and the Indians, 3-4, 5 35,  42, 116-117, 119.
  See Louisiana.
Neyon de Villiers, commandant of Fort Chartres, 115.
Niagara, Indian ambuscades at, 109-112.

Ottawa Confederacy, the, 12-14, 23.
  Johnson's mission to, 25-29.
Ottawas, the, 12, 13, 20-21, 26, 27, 34, 39,  46, 47, 49,  68-70, 77-79.
  act as friends in need,   115.
Ourry, Captain Lewis, commandant of Fort Bedford,  122.

Paris, treaty of,
  and the Indians, 31-32.
  and the French settlers, 59, 130-131.
Paully, Ensign Christopher, his adoption by a squaw, 68-70.
Pennsylvania, and the Indians,  106.
  See Thirteen Colonies.
Point Pelée, disastrous fray with Indians at, 54-55.
Pontiac, over-chief of the Ottawa Confederacy,  13, 15, 16-17, 39.
  his plot against the British, 24, 33-36.
  tries to seize Fort Detroit, 40-41, 41-46.
  besieges the fort, 47-50, 114-115.
  calls in French aid,  115.
  his power on the wane, 62.
  proposes peace, 115-116.
  plots a new confederacy, 117, footnote 10, 126. 130, 132.
  makes peace, 132-133.
  pledges his allegiance to Britain, 134-135.
  his death, 136.
  his appearance, 34.
Pontiac MS., quoted, 35-36, 43, 61.
Pontiac War, the,
  the district affected, 10.
  a leaderless war, 12.
  motives of, 16.
  the Indian councils of war, 33-36.
  the plot to seize Fort Detroit, 40-46.
  the investment of the fort, 46-52,  87, 107, 113, 116, 117, 126.
  the attacks on the 'Gladwyn,' 52-53, 107-109.
  the French called in, 58-60.
  Bloody Run, 63-67.
  destruction of Fort Sandusky, 68-70.
  attack on Fort St Joseph, 71-72.
  capture of Forts Miami and Ouiatanon, 72-76.
  Fort Michilimackinac, 77-82.
  and Forts Presqu'isle, Le Bœuf, and Venango, 83-87.
  attack on Fort Pitt, 89-94.
  Bushy Run and Edge Hill, 99-105.
  Devil's Hole, 109-112.
  Indians make peace, 114,  123, 124-125, 128-129, 133, 134-135.
Potawatomis, the, 12, 34, 39, 46, 62-63, 67, 71-72, 113-114.
Potier, Father Pierre, at Fort Detroit,  36,  50.
Price, Ensign George, escapes from Fort Le Bœuf to Fort Pitt, 85.

Reaume, Pierre, French settler at Detroit, 60.
Rogers, Major Robert,
  takes over French forts after the Conquest, 20-24, 38.
  with Dalyell at Bloody Run, 63-67.
Rogers's Rangers, 20, 63, 66.
Royal Americans, 28, 95,  103-105.

Sacs, the,  80-81.
Saint-Ange, French commandant of Fort Chartres, 131, 134.
St Martin, interpreter of the Ottawas, 27, 64.
Schlosser, Ensign Francis, commandant of Fort St Joseph, 71-72.
Senecas,
  their hostility to the British, 9, 14,  17,  26, 27, 32.
  their cruelty at Fort Venango, 86.
  at Devil's Hole, 109-112.
  make peace, 123.
Shawnees, the,  24, 29, 94, 123, 125, 126, 128-129.
Sicotte, Zacharie, a French settler at Detroit,  60.
Six Nations, 3.
  British allies, 8, 9-10,  122-123.
Stedman, Philip, escapes at Devil's Hole massacre, 111.
Sterling, Captain Thomas, takes over Fort Chartres, 133.

Thirteen Colonies,
  and the Conquest, 1-2.
  their policy towards and relations with the Indians, 2-3, 5,  41, 96,
    106.
  and the American Revolution, 137-138.
Turnbull, Mrs, and her sons, slaughter of, 47.
Turtle's Heart, a Delaware chief, 91-92.

Vincennes, a French post, 2 132.
Virginia, and the Indians, 106.
  See Thirteen Colonies.

Weas, the, 75-76.
Welsh, John, tortured to death, 74.
Wilkins, Major,  113.
  his disaster on Lake Erie, 117-119.
Wyandots, the, 13-14, 24, 34, 46, 50, 55, 62-63, 67, 68, 83-84, 94, 114.




                        THE CHRONICLES OF CANADA

Edited by George M. Wrong and H. H. Langton of the University of Toronto

A series of thirty-two freshly-written narratives for popular reading,
designed to set forth, in historic continuity, the principal events
and movements in Canada, from the Norse Voyages to the Railway Builders.


PART I. THE FIRST EUROPEAN VISITORS

1. The Dawn of Canadian History
A Chronicle of Aboriginal Canada
BY STEPHEN LEACOCK

2. The Mariner of St Malo
A Chronicle of the Voyages of Jacques Cartier
BY STEPHEN LEACOCK


PART II. THE RISE OF NEW FRANCE

3. The Founder of New France
A Chronicle of Champlain
BY CHARLES W. COLBY

4. The Jesuit Missions
A Chronicle of the Cross in the Wilderness
BY THOMAS GUTHRIE MARQUIS

5. The Seigneurs of Old Canada
A Chronicle of New-World Feudalism
BY WILLIAM BENNETT MUNRO

6. The Great Intendant
A Chronicle of Jean Talon
BY THOMAS CHAPAIS

7. The Fighting Governor
A Chronicle of Frontenac
BY CHARLES W. COLBY


PART III. THE ENGLISH INVASION

8. The Great Fortress
A Chronicle of Louisbourg
BY WILLIAM WOOD

9. The Acadian Exiles
A Chronicle of the Land of Evangeline
BY ARTHUR G. DOUGHTY

10. The Passing of New France
A Chronicle of Montcalm
BY WILLIAM WOOD

11. The Winning of Canada
A Chronicle of Wolfe
BY WILLIAM WOOD


PART IV. THE BEGINNINGS OF BRITISH CANADA

12. The Father of British Canada
A Chronicle of Carleton
BY WILLIAM WOOD

13. The United Empire Loyalists
A Chronicle of the Great Migration
BY W. STEWART WALLACE

14. The War with the United States
A Chronicle of 1812
BY WILLIAM WOOD


PART V. THE RED MAN IN CANADA

15. The War Chief of the Ottawas
A Chronicle of the Pontiac War
BY THOMAS GUTHRIE MARQUIS

16. The War Chief of the Six Nations
A Chronicle of Joseph Brant
BY LOUIS AUBREY WOOD

17. Tecumseh
A Chronicle of the last Great Leader of his People
BY ETHEL T. RAYMOND


PART VI. PIONEERS OF THE NORTH AND WEST

18. The 'Adventurers of England' on Hudson Bay
A Chronicle of the Fur Trade in the North
BY AGNES C. LAUT

19. Pathfinders of the Great Plains
A Chronicle of La Vérendrye and his Sons
BY LAWRENCE J. BURPEE

20. Adventurers of the Far North
A Chronicle of the Arctic Seas
BY STEPHEN LEACOCK

21. The Red River Colony
A Chronicle of the Beginnings of Manitoba
BY LOUIS AUBREY WOOD

22. Pioneers of the Pacific Coast
A Chronicle of Sea Rovers and Fur Hunters
BY AGNES C. LAUT

23. The Cariboo Trail
A Chronicle of the Gold-fields of British Columbia
BY AGNES C. LAUT


PART VII. THE STRUGGLE FOR POLITICAL FREEDOM

24. The Family Compact
A Chronicle of the Rebellion in Upper Canada
BY W. STEWART WALLACE

25. The Patriotes of '37
A Chronicle of the Rebellion in Lower Canada
BY ALFRED D. DECELLES

26. The Tribune of Nova Scotia
A Chronicle of Joseph Howe
BY WILLIAM LAWSON GRANT

27. The Winning of Popular Government
A Chronicle of the Union of 1841
BY ARCHIBALD MACMECHAN


PART VIII. THE GROWTH OF NATIONALITY

28. The Fathers of Confederation
A Chronicle of the Birth of the Dominion
BY A. H. U. COLQUHOUN

29. The Day of Sir John Macdonald
A Chronicle of the Early Years of the Dominion
BY SIR JOSEPH POPE

30. The Day of Sir Wilfrid Laurier
A Chronicle of Our Own Times
BY OSCAR D. SKELTON


PART IX. NATIONAL HIGHWAYS

31. All Afloat
A Chronicle of Craft and Waterways
BY WILLIAM WOOD

32. The Railway Builders
A Chronicle of Overland Highways
BY OSCAR D. SKELTON

                              Published by
                        Glasgow, Brook & Company
                            TORONTO, CANADA

                 *        *        *        *        *

               =Transcriber's Note=

               Variations in spelling have been retained.

[The end of _The War Chief of the Ottawas_ by Thomas Marquis]