  Observations on the character of White-Eyes—Pipe's comment on his death—The latter gains and sustains an ascendancy in the Delaware nation—Glickkican, Netawatwees and Wingemund—Subsequent career of Pipe—Joins the British and fights against the Americans—Grand Indian council at Detroit—Pipe's spirited speech on that occasion—Makes charges against the Missionaries, but fails to prove them—Remarks on his habits, principles and talents. The feet that Captain Pipe and his associates began to gain the ascendancy in the Delaware nation immediately on the death of his great antagonist, and that they afterwards supported it with almost uninterrupted success, is alone sufficient to indicate the influence and character of White-Eyes. Indeed, Pipe himself paid to his memory the compliment of declaring, with a solemn air, that "the Great Spirit had probably put him out of the way, that the nation might be saved." That sagacious personage was well aware that neither Kill-Buck, nor Big-Cat, nor Glickkican, [FN] nor even all together, would adequately occupy the station of the deceased Chieftain. [FN] "The sight of a gun-barrel," and afterwards baptised by the Moravians, and named Isaac. He was Chief Councilor and Speaker of the old Sachem, Pakanke, who ruled over the Delawares at Kaskaskunk (in Ohio,) and was a man of uncommon military and oratorical talent. After his own christianization, he was a highly efficient advocate and patron of the Christian party. Having thereby, as well as by his spirit and influence, become obnoxious to their enemies during the Revolution, several attempts were made to overawe, bribe and destroy him; but they all failed. At length a considerable party was fitted out, in 1781, for the express purpose of taking him prisoner. They found him at Salem, but doubting whether the old warrior's pacific principles would assure their safety, they dared not enter his hut. He saw some of them before long from a window, and instantly stepped out, and called to them. "Friends!" said he, "by your manoeuvres I conclude you are come for me. If so, why do you hesitate;—Obey your orders; I am ready to submit. You seem to fear old Glickkican. Ah! there was a time when I would have scorned to submit to such cowardly slaves. But I am no more Glickkican, I am Isaac, a believer in the true God, and for his sake I will suffer anything, even death." Seeing them still hesitate, he stepped up to them with his hands placed upon his back. "There!" he continued, "you would tie me if you dared—tie me, then, and take me with you—I am ready." They now mustered courage to do as he directed. Soon after, Glickkican was murdered, with a large number of his Christian countrymen, by a banditti of American ruffians who suspected, or pretended to suspect them, of hostile designs. Probably the result was brought about by the machinations of his Indian enemies. White-Eyes was distinguished as much for his milder virtues as for his courage and energy; and as to his friendly disposition towards the Americans, particularly, on which some imputations were industriously thrown by his enemies, we could desire no better evidence of its sincerity than are still extant In that curious document, the Journal of Frederic Post, [FN] who, as early as 1758, was sent among the Ohio Delawares by the Governor of one of the States, for the purpose of inducing them to renounce the French alliance, is recorded, the "speech" which Post carried back, and the closing paragraphs of which were as follows:— [FN] In Prond's History of Pennsylvania. "Brethren, when you have settled this peace and friendship, and finished it well, and you send the great peace-belt to me, I will send it to all the nations of my colour; they will all join to it, and we all will hold it fast. "Brethren, when all the nations join to this friendship, then the day will begin to shine clear over us. When we hear once more of you, and we join together, then the day will be still, and no wind, or storm, will come over us, to disturb us. "Now, Brethren, you know our hearts, and what we have to say; be strong, if you do what we have now told you, and in this peace all the nations agree to join. Now, Brethren, let the king of England know what our mind is as soon as possibly you can." Among the subscribers to this speech appears the name of White-Eyes, under the form of the Indian term Cochguacawkeghton; nor have we met with any proof that he ever from that time wavered for a moment in his attachment to the American interest, as opposed first to the French, and afterwards to the English. Post himself, in 1762, was permitted to build a house on the banks of the Muskingum, where he had a lot of land given him, about a mile distant from the village of White-Eyes; and so, when Heckewelder first visited that country, during the same season, he informs us that, "the War-Chief Koguethagechtan," kindly entertained and supplied him and his party. About the beginning of the Revolutionary war, when some of the Indians were much exasperated by murders and trespasses which certain civilized ruffians committed on the frontiers, an Ohio trader was met and massacred in the woods by a party of Senecas, who, having in their rage cut up the body and garnished the bushes with the remains, raised the scalp-yell and marched off in triumph. White-Eyes being in the vicinity and hearing the yell, instantly commenced a search for the body, the remnants of which he collected and buried. The party returned on the following day, and observing what had been done, privately opened the grave, and scattered the contents more widely than before. But White-Eyes was this time on the watch for them. He repaired to the spot again the moment they left it, succeeded in finding every part of the mangled body, and then carefully interred it in a grave dug with his own hands, where it was at length suffered to repose unmolested. It was about the same time when this affair happened, that the Chieftain saved the life of one Duncan, an American peace-messenger, whom he had undertaken to escort through a section of the wilderness. A hostile Shawanee was upon the point of discharging his musket at Duncan from behind a tree, when White-Eyes rushed forward, regardless of his own peril. And compelled the savage to desist. In 1777, Heckewelder had occasion to avail himself of a similar kindness. Rather rashly, as he acknowledges, he that year undertook to traverse the forests from the Muskingum to Pittsburg, wishing to visit his English friends in that quarter. White-Eves resided at a distance of seventeen miles, but hearing of his intended journey, he immediately came to see him, accompanied by another Chief named Wingemund, [FN] and by several of his young men. [FN] A noted religious impostor. These, he said, his good friend, the Missionary, should have as an escort. And moreover he must needs go himself: "He could not suffer me to go," says that gentlemen, "while the Sandusky warriors were out on war-excursions, without a proper escort and himself at my side." And it should be observed, that besides the Sandusky savages, there were several other tribes who had already engaged on the British side, and were spreading death and desolation along the whole of the American frontier. The party set out together, and reached their destination in safety. An alarm occurred only on one occasion, when the scouts discovered a suspicious track, and report was made accordingly. White-Eyes, who was riding before his friend, while Wingemund brought up the rear, turned about and asked if he felt afraid? "No!" said the Missionary, "not while you are with me." "You are right," quickly rejoined White-Eyes. "You are right; no man shall harm you, till I am laid prostrate." "Nor even then," added Wingemund, "for they must conquer me also—they must lay us side by side." Mr. Heckewelder certainly did them but justice in believing that both would have redeemed their promises. The other Moravians, and the Indian Congregation under their charge in Ohio, were still more indebted to the good Chieftain. Loskiel states [FN] that in 1774, the Christian party had become obnoxious to a majority of the Pagan Delaware chiefs, and it was several times proposed to expel them by force. But God brought their counsel to nought, he adds, "and appointed for this purpose the first Captain among the Delawares, called White-Eyes," who kept the chiefs and council in awe, and would not suffer them to injure the Missionaries. Finding his efforts still unavailing, he at length went so far as to separate himself wholly from his opponents, resolved to renounce power, country and kindred for the sake of these just and benevolent men whom he could not bear to see persecuted. [FN] History of the Missions of the United Brethren, &c. London, 1794. His firmness met with a deserved success. Even the old Chief Netawatwees, who had opposed him most fiercely, acknowledged the injustice which had been done him; and not only changed his views in regard to the Christians, but published his recantation in presence of the whole council. White-Eyes then again came forward, and repeated a proposal for a national regulation to be made—whereby the Christians should be specially put under the Delaware protection—which had formerly been rejected. It was promptly agreed to, and the act was passed. The old Chieftain expressed great joy on that occasion;—"I am an old man," said he, "and know not how long I may live. I therefore rejoice, that I have been able to make this act. Our children and grand-children will reap the benefit of it,—and now I am ready to die whenever God pleases." [FN] [FN] He died at Pittsburg in 1776, much lamented by the Delawares and many neighboring nations. "This wise man," says Loskiel, "spared no pains to conciliate the affection of all his neighbors. He sent frequent embassies to his Grand-Children, admonishing them to keep peace, and proved in truth a wise Grandfather to them," Being the Senior Chief of the nation, his opinion was of great weight, and he declared himself warmly in favor of the Christians, and first invited them to settle on the Muskingum. His grandson, nephew, and son and family, also joined them. Loskiel states, that White-Eyes was in his own heart convinced of the truth of the gospel; that this was evident in all his speeches in behalf of the Christians, during which he was frequently so moved that tears prevented his words; and that he likewise declared with confidence, that no prosperity would attend the Indian affairs, unless they received and believed the saving gospel sent them from God, by means of the Brethren. Not long before his death he took public occasion to repeat the last will and testament of Netawatwees,—"That the Delawares should hear the word of God." He held the bible and some spelling-books in his hand, and addressed the Council in a strain of the most animated and moving eloquence. "My friends!" he concluded, "You have now heard the dying wish of our departed Chief. I will therefore gather together my young men, and their children—I will kneel down before that Great Spirit who created them and me—I will pray unto him, that he may have mercy upon us, and reveal his will unto us,—And as we cannot declare it to those who are yet unborn, we will pray unto the Lord our God, to make it known to our children and our children's children." Still, White-Eyes regarded Christianity more as a civil than a religious system. He was a man of enlarged political views, and no less a patriot than a statesman. The ends he aimed at were far more his country's than his own. He observed the superiority of the white men to the red; and nearer home, the prosperity and happiness of the Christian Delawares; and he convinced himself thoroughly of the true causes of both. He therefore earnestly desired, that his whole nation might be civilized, to which result he considered Christianity, as he had seen it taught by the good Moravians, the best possible promotive, as undoubtedly it was. But in this noble solicitude for his countrymen, he forgot himself. Hence even Loskiel, on mentioning his decease, states, with an almost reluctant honesty, that "Captain White-Eyes, who had so often advised other Indians, with great earnestness, to believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, but had always postponed joining the believers himself on account of being yet entangled in political concerns, was unexpectedly called into eternity;" adding, affectionately, that the "Indian Congregation to whom he had rendered very essential services, was much affected at the news of his death, and could not but hope, that God our Saviour had received his soul in mercy." Mr. Heckewelder sums up the matter by saying—"His ideas were that unless the Indians changed their mode of living, they would in time come to nothing; and to encourage them towards such a change, he told them to take the example of the Christian Indians, who by their industry had every thing they could wish for." In a word, there was more philanthropy and more philosophy in the religion of White-Eyes, than there was piety. Hence his eloquence, his energy, his strong affection for the Missionaries, and his sacrifices and services for them and for his countrymen. He was a good man, we believe, by the force of native conscience, as he was a great man by the force of native sense; and though to have learned Christianity, in addition to loving some of those who professed it, might have made him both better and greater than he was, we cannot but hope, as it is, with the Christian Delawares, "that God our Saviour has received his soul in mercy." It would give us very sincere pleasure to be able to say as much for the Paganism of Captain Pipe, who, on the contrary, was opposed to the religion of the whites as inveterately as any of the New-England Sachems of the seventeenth century, and apparently for similar reasons. "The Sachems of the country were generally set against us," wrote Mr. Elliot in 1650,[FN-1]—"and counter-work the Lord by keeping off their men from praying to God as much as they can; and the reason of it is this; they plainly see that religion will make a great change among them, and cut them off from their former tyranny, &c." Pipe, too, with all his talent, was obnoxious to some very plain strictures regarding his own morality, and of course had no theoretical partiality for lectures upon that subject. [FN-2] He was inimical to White-Eyes, especially, because the latter supported the cause of reform; and rather than stand second to him, and at the same time surrender his own bad habits, he determined at all hazards to array a party in opposition. It was both a personal and a political movement, the objects being self-defence, in the first place, and in the second, distinction. [FN-1] The light appearing, &c. London, 1651. [FN-2] Narrative, p. 286 and passim: "We were obliged to wait for Pipe's becoming sufficiently sober,"—&c. Such being the character of the scheme, it must still be admitted that he exhibited great energy and great ingenuity in promoting it. Some of his manoeuvres have been noticed; and after his rival's decease, his own declarations, particularly, were much more frequent and fearless, and therefore more effectual than they had been before. "Thus," says Heckewelder, "when a young man of his tribe, who had received his education in Virginia, under the influence of Dr. Walker, on his return into the Indian country in 1779, spread unfavorable reports of the Virginian people; representing them as exceeding the Indians in vicious acts—their beating the Negroes so unmercifully, &c. &c. Pipe would mockingly enumerate such vicious and cruel acts, as the benefits of civilization." He could at the same time, with truth, set forth the poverty of the United States, in not having even a blanket, a shirt, or other article of Indian clothing, to give them in exchange for their peltry; whereas, (said he) were it not for the English, we should have to suffer, and perhaps many of us perish for want. Pipe and the Monseys, we are told elsewhere, were those who were most dreaded, and the effect of his operations was such, but one year after the decease of White-Eyes in the midst of his triumphs, that in 1781, the Peace-Chiefs had for their own safety to withdraw themselves from their several nations, and take refuge at Pittsburg. In regard to the personal habits of Pipe, it may be doing him, as well as several other Indians of some distinction, no more than justice, to allude in extenuation to the well known nature of the temptations to which they have sometimes been exposed, and especially on the frontiers, during war, and the excitement of an attempt by one civilized party to engage their services against another. The peculiar physical circumstances which, together with the character of their education, go to diminish their power of self-control, need not be enlarged on. It is sufficient to say, that it would be a task more easy than gratifying to prove, that their misfortune in this particular has only followed after the fault of their civilized neighbors. "Who are you, my friend?" said a gentleman in Pipe's time to an Indian at Pittsburg, who was not so much intoxicated as not to be ashamed of his situation. "My name is Black-fish," he replied; "At home I am a clever fellow—Here, I am a hog." [FN] [FN] Mr. Heckewelder's anecdote of the Indian who came into Bethlehem (Penn.) to dispose of his peltry, throws light on a great source of the evil not alluded to in the text, and the effects of which, among the Western tribes to this day are beyond calculation. "Well Thomas," said a trader to him, "I believe you have turned Moravian." "Moravian!" answered the Indian, "what makes you think so?"—"Because," replied the other, "you used to come to us, to sell your skins and peltry, and now you trade them away to the Moravians." "So!" rejoined the Indian, "now I understand you well, and I know what you mean to say. Now hear me.—See, my friend! when I come to this place with my skins and peltry to trade, the people are kind; they give me plenty of good victuals to eat, and pay me in money, or whatever I want, and no one says a word to me about drinking rum—neither do I ask for it! When I come to your place with my peltry, all call to me: 'Come, Thomas! here's rum, drink heartily, drink! it will not hurt yon.' All this is done for the purpose of cheating me. When you have obtained from me all you want, you call me a drunken dog, and kick me out of the room." But we are not under the disagreeable necessity of apologising for every thing we relate of Captain Pipe. He gave many evidences of a natural honor and humanity, even amid the bloodiest scenes of the Revolution, and contrary to the dictation of those who were qualified, by every thing but feelings, to understand his duty better than himself. Under strong excitement he attached himself to the British interest, and towards the close of the war scalping-parties went out from his settlement. He was also prejudiced against the Christian Indians, and molested them much. But none of these things were done in his cooler moments; and what is more creditable to him, there is good reason to believe that he repented of all. The evidence of this fact appears in a transaction which took place at Detroit in November, 1781, with the particulars of which, as furnished by Loskiel and others, we shall conclude this narrative. On the occasion referred to, a grand Indian Council was convened at Detroit, at which were present large numbers of various tribes, including Captain Pipe's Wolf warriors, who had just returned from a scalping expedition. Four of the Moravian Missionaries were also there, having been summoned to attend, at the suggestion of Pipe and others, for the purpose of deciding upon several charges alleged against them. The hall was filled with the concourse, the tribes being separately seated all around it, on the right and left hand of the Commandant, while the Delawares, with Pipe and his Councilors at their head, were directly in front. A war-chief of each of the two divisions of Indians, held a stick in his hand, of three or four feet in length, strung with scalps which they had taken in their last foray on the American frontier. The Council was opened by the Commandant's signifying to Captain Pipe, that he might make his report, when the latter rose from his seat, holding a stick in his left hand: "Father!"—he began; and here he paused, turned round to the audience with a most sarcastic look, and then proceeded in a lower tone, as addressing them,—"I have said father, though indeed I do not know why I should call him so—I have never known any father but the French—I have considered the English only as brothers. But as this name is imposed upon us, I shall make use of it and say— "Father"—fixing his eyes again on the Commandant—"Some time ago you put a war-hatchet into my hands, saying, 'take this weapon and try it on the heads of my enemies, the Long-Knives, and let me know afterwards if it was sharp and good.' "Father!—At the time when you gave me this weapon, I had neither cause nor wish to go to war against a foe who had done me no injury. But you say you are my father—and call me your child—and in obedience to you I received the hatchet. I knew that if I did not obey you, you would withhold from me [FN] the necessaries of life, which I could procure nowhere but here." [FN] Meaning his tribe. "Father! You may perhaps think me a fool, for risking my life at your bidding—and that in a cause in which I have no prospect of gaining any thing. For it is your cause, and not mine—you have raised a quarrel among yourselves—and you ought to fight it out—It is your concern to fight the Long-Knives—You should not compel your children, the Indians, to expose themselves to danger for your sake. "Father!—Many lives have already been lost on your account—The tribes have suffered, and been weakened—Children have lost parents and brothers—Wives have lost husbands—It is not known how many more may perish before your war will be at an end. "Father!—I have said, you may perhaps think me a fool, for thus thoughtlessly rushing on your enemy! Do not believe this, Father. Think not that I want sense to convince me, that although you now pretend to keep up a perpetual enmity to the Long-Knives, you may, before long, conclude a peace with them. "Father! You say you love your children, the Indians.—This you have often told them; and indeed it is your interest to say so to them, that you may have them at your service. "But, Father! Who of us can believe that you can love a people of a different colour from your own, better than those who have a white skin, like yourselves? "Father! Pay attention to what I am going to say. While you, Father, are setting me [FN] on your enemy, much in the same manner as a hunter sets his dog on the game; while I am in the act of rushing on that enemy of yours, with the bloody destructive weapon you gave me, I may, perchance, happen to look back to the place from whence you started me, and what shall I see? Perhaps, I may see my father shaking hands with the Long-Knives; yes, with those very people he now calls his enemies. I may then see him laugh at my folly for having obeyed his orders; and yet I am now risking my life at his command!—Father! keep what I have said in remembrance." [FN] Meaning his nation. "Now, Father! here is what has been done with the hatchet you gave me," [handing the stick with the scalps on it] "I have done with the hatchet what you ordered me to do, and found it sharp. Nevertheless, I did not do all that I might have done. No, I did not. My heart failed within me. I felt compassion for your enemy. Innocence [FN] had no part in your quarrels; therefore I distinguished—I spared. I took some live flesh, [FN-2] which, while I was bringing to you, I spied one of your large canoes, on which I put it for you. In a few days you will receive this flesh, and find that the skin is of the same color with your own." [FN-1] Meaning women and children. [FN-2] Prisoners. "Father! I hope you will not destroy what I have saved. You, Father, have the means of preserving that which would perish with us from want. The warrior is poor, and his cabin is always empty; but your house, Father, is always full." During the delivery of this harangue, which is said to have produced a great effect on all present, and especially on those who understood the language in which it was spoken, the Orator two or three times advanced so far towards the Commandant, in the heat of his excitement, that one of the officers present thought proper to interfere and request him to move back. The other war-chiefs now made their speeches, and then the Commandant (an honorable and humane man, notwithstanding the Orator's strictures on his Father,)—called upon him to substantiate his charges against the Missionaries. Pipe, who was still standing, was unwilling to make the attempt, but felt embarrassed. He began to shift and shuffle, (says Loskiel,) and bending towards his Councilors, asked them what he should say. They all hung their heads, and were silent. Suddenly, recollecting himself and rising up, he addressed the Commandant "I said before that some such thing might have happened, but now I will tell you the plain truth. The Missionaries are innocent. What they have done, they were compelled to do." [alluding to their having interpreted letters which the Delaware Chief received from Pittsburg, &c] "We were to blame—We forced them to it, when they refused." After some farther conversation the Commandant declared the Missionaries to be acquitted of all the accusations brought against them. Pipe expressed his satisfaction at the result, and on returning from the council-house, he asked some of the Delaware Chieftains who were present how they liked what he said. He observed, that he knew it was true, and added; "I never wished your teachers any harm, knowing that they love the Indians; but, I have all along been imposed on, and importuned to do what I did by those who do not love them; and now, when these were to speak, they hung their heads, leaving me to extricate myself, after telling our Father things they had dictated and persuaded me to tell him." This declaration has decidedly the air of candor and truth; and the Captain's subsequent conduct was much more in accordance with the spirit of it than it had been before. He did not however distinguish himself particularly after the close of the war, and even the time of his death has not come within our knowledge, although we have reason to believe that he was living, and able to visit the City of Washington, as late as 1817. |
|
