THE ALGONQUIN TRIBES AND THEIR PREDECESSORS.
"The Lord of the forest is lord no more; The pride of his manly
soul is o'er. The fields, where he won his youthful fame, On the track
of the foe, or in quest of game, Are his no more."
When the Europeans discovered America, they found the aborigines a bow-and-arrow
race, who lived in forests and depended upon the chase for subsistence.
From a fancied resemblance to the inhabitants of Southern Asia, they were
called Indians. Their origin, their migrations and their history are shrouded
in mystery; but undoubtedly they should be numbered among the ancient races
of mankind. They were divided into several nations, which were subdivided
into many tribes and families, each having a local name, distinct traditions
and a separate dialect.
In that portion of the continent lying between Hudson's Bay on the north,
and the thirty-seventh parallel of latitude on the south, and between the
Atlantic Ocean on the east and the Mississippi River on the west, roamed
the great Indian nation of the Algonquins. Nomadic in habit, and despising
agriculture, they were almost perfect types of primitive savages.
When first visited by Europeans, they numbered nearly a quarter of a
million; but the white man's aggressive spirit, his destructive vices,
and, above all, his fiery rum, have destroyed the Algonquin nation. Whole
families and entire tribes have vanished from the earth, until now only
a few remain to tell of the departed glories of their people, and repeat
the legends of their ancestors.
Among the many powerful tribes of the Algonquin nation, were the Chippewas,
the Ottawas and the Potawatomies, who inhabited the lower peninsula of
Michigan. Their early home was upon the Ottawa River in Canada, but prior
to the first visits of the French to the St. Lawrence, they crossed the
lakes and took possession of lower Michigan. The three tribes were kindred
in blood, in tradition, in habits of life and in general appearance.
They called themselves the three brothers, of whom the Chippewa tribe
was the oldest, and the Ottawa tribe the second, while the Potawatomie
tribe was the youngest. Before this migration from Canada, Michigan was
peopled by the Mish-ko-tink or Prairie Indians, who were a powerful tribe.
There was a long and sanguinary war for the possession of the country.
Tradition tells where many of the battles were fought. There were three
bloody battles on the banks of Grand River. One was at Battle Point, a
few miles above its mouth, another was on and about a high hill, near where
Maple River unites with Grand River, while the third and fiercest conflict
took place on land now embraced in the Eighth Ward of Grand Rapids.
It is said that a ferocious hand-to hand battle was fought near where
now is the corner of Mt. Vernon and West Fulton streets, in which many
were slain, and which resulted in the complete defeat of the Prairie Indians.
The tradition must be something more than a myth, because in that neighborhood
human bones and implements of Indian warfare have often been found near
the surface in promiscuous profusion.
"Behind the scared squaw's birch canoe,
The steamer smokes and raves;
And city lots are staked for sale
Above old Indian graves."
OVERTHROW OF THE PRAIRIE INDIANS. The final contest between the
Prairie Indians and the invading tribes, was fought near the mouth of the
Marquette River. Having been defeated in every part of the country, the
Prairie Indians retreated to the lake shore and awaited an opportunity
of escape, when in the middle of the night they were surprised by the impetuous
invaders. The battle was short, but decisive.
The Prairie Indians were completely annihilated. A few escaped from
the hands of their bloodthirsty enemies, only to perish in the waters of
the lake. The Indians of Marquette River have often pointed out imaginary
tracks of the fleeing Mish-ko-tink in the sands of the lake shore, and
with solemn faces have declared that the disturbance of the eddying waters
in that neighbor hood was caused by the angry spirits of their drowned
enemies. The remembrance of the bloody conflict was perpetuated by the
Indian name of the river, which was Nin-o-we-pe-ep-ka-gung, or the-place-where
we-smote-them-on-the-head.
One of the tribal traditions is to the effect that a terrible battle
was once fought near where now is Birmingham, Oakland county, between the
Chippewas and Foxes. The former were defeated, and their large village
utterly destroyed, with a loss to them of more than a thousand of their
braves. The date is as uncertain as the rest of the tradition - it may
have been long before the Chippewas rallied in the north and came through
the Michigan Lake shore region on their ravaging raid.
Having conquered the country, the Chippewas took possession of the northern
portion of the peninsula, the Ottawas of the central and western portions,
and the Potawatomies of the south, beyond the Kalamazoo River.
The Grand River Valley was occupied by the Ottawas. There were villages
at Battle Point, at Crockery Creek, at the Rapids, at Plainfield, at Ada,
at Lowell, and at various other points up the river.
Their neighbors on the south were the Indians on the Kalamazoo River,
and those on the north were the Indians of the Muskegon River. The Indians
always gathered about the waters of the country, for by their canoes they
traveled, fished, hunted, and transported their game.
Occasionally an Indian family wandered for a time into the forests of
the interior, but their villages and homes were almost invariably upon
the banks of rivers. From time immemorial there was a large and prosperous
village at Grand Rapids. This was because of the excellent fishing in the
river, and the abundance of game in the valley. Grand River always supported
a large Indian population. In the balmy days of Indian supremacy, there
were undoubtedly more than a thousand Indians living within the present
limits of Kent county, which was an unusual number for the territory, because
in his native state an Indian required a vast amount of land to support
himself and family. Frequently an area as large as a county, which was
not on a navigable river, only furnished subsistence for less than a dozen
families. Before the advent of the pale face, Michigan doubtless supported
less than fifty thousand natives.
Contrary to popular belief, the Indians probably increased in population
by their first contact with the white race. The white traders brought to
the red men improved weapons and methods for fishing and hunting the rude
agriculture of the Indians was made more productive by the efforts of the
missionaries and traders; many of the latter were more or less skilled
in medicine and surgery, which assisted in lessening the death rate of
the Indians; again, the traders took into the wilderness many articles
and implements which were of great use to the savages in their struggles
for existence, and all these things tended to increase the native population.
Holding their lands by the slight tenure of possession, the Chippewas,
Ottawas and Potawatomies suffered much from the encroachments of neighboring
tribes. There were frequent inroads from the Lake Superior region, by the
Indians of that section. Those who were about the head of Lake Michigan
constantly made raids into the territory of Michigan.
The Hurons, of Canada, often crossed the border to hunt and fish, but
never settled here in very great numbers, although along the eastern limits
there were many Huron families and villages. Even the Iroquois, from beyond
Lake Ontario, often hunted and trapped the beaver in Eastern Michigan,
and after the French settled at Detroit the tribes from the valley of the
Ohio annually visited that trading post and frequently hunted in the forests
of the interior.
Such was the Indian occupancy of Michigan before it was settled by the
white race. Those sentimentalists who mourn because the red men have been
driven from their homes, and despoiled of their lands, should remember
that the Indians themselves obtained the country by force, and retained
it only as it suited their convenience and desires.
When game grew scarce the land was abandoned, and whoever afterward
occupied it was, according to Indian custom, entitled to its possession.
It was Indian law that "might makes right."
When first visited by the French explorers and traders, the three tribes,
Chippewas, Ottawas and Pottawatomies, enjoyed the most friendly relations
with one another, and so continued as long as their tribal existence lasted.
By amalgamation and intermarriage they became so mixed and blended that
when the whites settled in the country, it was often difficult to ascertain
to what tribe many Indian villages belonged, and those of one tribe often
lived in the villages of another. There were many Chippewas and Pottawatomies
scattered among the Ottawa villages of the Grand River valley.
After the middle of the seventeenth century the Indians of Michigan
were frequently visited by French explorers, traders and missionaries,
and by them the habits of the natives were much changed. They traveled
more, and wandered over a larger extent of territory. They made annual
visits to the French trading posts to sell furs and secure supplies.
Undoubtedly they lived better and had more comforts than in the years
before the white man visited their country. The traders, white hunters
and trappers who first went among the Indians, proved a blessing to the
race. Living among the red men and adopting their ways and habits, they
introduced many simple elements of civilization, and helped to develop
the better part of savage life. The first white men who went among the
Indians of the Northwest should be numbered among the benefactors of mankind.
FRENCH AND BRITISH INFLUENCES.
The first white visitors to Michigan were the Jesuit missionaries. Father
Claude Allouez, who had been at the Falls of St. Mary, established a temporary
mission at the mouth of the St. Joseph River about the year 1665. In 1668
a permanent mission was founded at St. Mary's Falls, and three years after
a grand Indian council was held there, at which agents of the French government
met all the Indian tribes of the Northwest, to bring them under the protection
and dominion of the French King, and to take formal possession of the country.
Among the missionaries present at that council to consecrate the ceremonies,
was Father Marquette, who explored the valley of the Mississippi. On one
of his expeditions to the Illinois Indians he was taken sick. In the spring
of 1675 his Indian followers carried him to Lake Michigan and embarked
upon its waters. As they sailed along its eastern shores, the dying missionary,
realizing that his end was at hand, requested the Indians to approach the
land, and in a short time his pure soul passed away.
His followers buried the body and erected above it a large cross. Years
after ward his bones were removed to an Indian chapel. At this day, however,
the place of his death and the spot of his interment are unknown, but any
frequenter of the northern summer resorts of Michigan will remember with
what minuteness of detail many different places are pointed out by enthusiastic
and visionary guides as the exact spots of Father Marquette's death and
burial.
The next white man to visit Western Michigan was LaSalle, who in 1679
established a trading post at. Mackinaw, and built a fort at the mouth
of the St. Joseph River. These were the first permanent white settlements
in Western Michigan, and for more than a century there was little or no
change in the Indian occupancy of the country. French voyageurs annually
traversed the eastern shores of Lake Michigan from Mackinaw to St. Joseph,
and gathered rich cargoes of furs, which were shipped to Quebec by way
of Detroit and Frontenac. These expeditions were generally in the spring,
when the Indians would meet the traders at the mouths of the rivers and
sell them the furs which had been captured during the winter, and in the
late summer or early autumn they would visit the trading posts at St. Joseph,
Mackinaw, Saginaw and Detroit for supplies to carry with them on their
winter hunts.
Such was the annual routine of Indian life in Western Michigan a hundred
and fifty years ago. French hunters visited the country. renounced civilization,
married Indian wives, and became more Indian than the Indians themselves.
Without doubt more than a century ago every Indian village in Western
Michigan had been visited by the white man. Among the results of the old
French war was the transfer of the control of the Northwest from the French
to the English. About 1760, the trading posts of Michigan were surrendered
to the English, who at once began to make extensive preparation for extending
and increasing the trade of the country. The Indians rebelled against the
change, and prepared for war. The leading spirit was Pontiac, an Ottawa
chief of Eastern Michigan. He visited tribe after tribe, and village after
village, to unite them in a conspiracy against the English.
In April, 1761, a grand council was held at Grand Rapids. Over three
thousand Indians were present, and every band in Michigan was represented.
Pontiac was present, and fired his hearers with noble specimens of Indian
oratory and unstudied eloquence. He contrasted the English with the French;
the pride, arrogance and rapacity of the one, with the gentility, suavity
and justice of the other. He cited instances of English neglect and contempt
of the red men, and argued that as the English had supplanted the French,
they would in time overpower the Indians, and that the latter could maintain
their rights only by war. Every Indian in the valley sympathized with Pontiac,
and two years after, when he laid siege to Detroit, his camp was filled
with warriors from Western Michigan. But the eloquence, bravery and sagacity
of Pontiac were insufficient to expel the English, and after the Treaty
of Paris in 1763, the latter were practically supreme in North America.
The power of the French had passed away, and the days of the Indian occupancy
were numbered. Defeat was too much for the proud spirit of Pontiac. He
deserted Michigan, and went to live among the Illinois Indians, where he
was soon after murdered. During the Pontiac war the English garrisons of
both Mackinaw and St. Joseph were massacred. At Mackinaw the soldiers were
induced to attend an Indian game of ball near the fort, and when thrown
off their guard they were attacked and nearly all murdered. A few escaped,
after some of the most remarkable adventures in the whole history of barbarous
captivities. It is estimated that about seventy white persons were killed
in the Mackinaw massacre. The place was deserted for more than a year,
but was finally reoccupied by a detachment of British troops sent for the
protection of the English traders in the Northwest.
The garrison at St. Joseph numbered fifteen. The Indians visited the
fort apparently with pacific intentions. They were received within the
walls, when, at a given signal, they attacked the garrison and killed them
all but four, who, including the commander, were taken captives and conducted
to Detroit, where they were finally exchanged for Indian prisoners there
held by the English.
After the Pontiac war the Indian occupancy of Western Michigan was unchanged
for many years. The general policy of the English toward the natives of
the Northwest was the same as that of their predecessors. The same posts
were maintained and, as far as possible, the same agents were employed.
Rival fur companies contended for the trade of the country and catered
for the good will of the Indians. During the revolution, under the instigation
of British officers at Mackinaw and Detroit, Indians from the Grand River
Valley engaged in depredations and warfare along the Virginia, Pennsylvania
and New York borders.
Early in the present century a trading post was founded by the American
Fur Company in the Grand River Valley, and, strange as it may seem, it
was established by a French woman, Madame Laframboise. It was located on
the banks of Grand River, about two miles west of the present village of
Lowell. She lived, there and traded with the Indians until 1821, when she
was superseded by Rix Robinson, who purchased her entire establishment.
At the close of the revolution the posts of the Northwest remained in
the hands of the British, and were not surrendered until 1796. Many Indians
of Western Michigan engaged in the battles of Ohio and Indiana fought by
Harmer, St. Clair, Wayne and Harrison, during the years between the Revolution
and the War of 1812. It was during those years that the second great confederation
of the Indians of the Northwest was brought about by the wily Tecumseh.
He probably never visited the Grand River Valley himself, but sent his
agents, who secured many recruits for the warriors who fought at Tippecanoe.
A forge was erected on the banks of the Kalamazoo River, where renegade
white men made hatchets and scalping knives for the Indians who fought
under Tecumseh at Tippecanoe and on the side of the British during the
War of 1812. The surrender of General Hull at Detroit placed the Northwest
posts again under the control of the British. During that war most of the
Indians of Michigan espoused the cause of Great Britain, but there were
a few who proved faithful friends of the Americans, and were afterward
generously remembered when treaties were negotiated with their people by
the United States. And Great Britain did not forget her savage allies.
From the close of the war until 1834 the Indians of Southern Michigan annually
visited Maiden to receive from the British Government annuities for their
services during the war.
At the close of the war American garrisons were again placed in the
forts at St. Joseph and Mackinaw, and American settlers commenced pouring
into Michigan. The Indian supremacy was rapidly passing away.
TREATY MAKING
By the ordinance of 1787 the civil authority of the United States was
extended over the Northwest Territory. In 1805 Michigan was set aside as
a separate Territory, and after the war of 1812 there was a great demand
for land for speculative purposes. There was much intriguing and lobbying,
and great pressure was brought to bear upon the General Government to secure
Indian lands in Michigan.
In 1821 Governor Cass and Solomon Sibley were commissioned by the General
Government to negotiate a treaty with the Ottawas, Chippewas and Potawatomies,
and secure certain lands in Western Michigan. During the summer the commissioners
met the Indians at Chicago, and on August 29, a treaty was completed and
signed. By its terms the Indians ceded to the United States the lands south
of the main stream of the Grand River, with certain small reservations
for individual Indians and halfbreeds, and a few small tracts for the use
of the tribes.
In consideration of the cession the United States engaged to pay to
the Ottawas one thousand dollars in specie annually forever, and for a
term of ten years to appropriate annually to the Ottawas the sum of fifteen
hundred dollars to be expended in the support of a blacksmith, of a teacher
and of a person to give instructions in agriculture and to purchase cattle
and farming utensils. One mile square was to be selected on the north side
of Grand River, and within the Indian lands not ceded, upon which the teachers
and blacksmith should reside. The treaty was signed by Lewis Cass and Solomon
Sibley on behalf of the United States, and on behalf of the Ottawa Indians
by Ke-wa-goush-cum, No-kaw-ji-gaun, Kee-o-to-aw-be, Ket-che-me-chi-na-waw,
Ep-pe-sau-sc, Kay-nee-wee, Mo-aput-to, and Mat-che-pee-na-che-wish.
MISSIONS FOR THE INDIANS.
Soon after the treaty was negotiated, Rev. Isaac McCoy, an Indian missionary
acting under the auspices of the Board of Managers of the Baptist Missionary
Convention of the United States, visited Governor Cass at Detroit in behalf
of the Indians, and to secure the management of the teacher and blacksmith
who, according to the treaty, were to be sent to the Ottawas at Grand Rapids.
Subsequently he was appointed to superintend the United States officers
sent to carry out the provisions of the treaty.
Governor Cass gave elaborate instructions, dated July 16, 1822, to McCoy,
and directed that ardent spirits should as far as possible be kept from
the Indians. John Sears, of New York city, was appointed teacher for the
Ottawas, and Charles C. Trowbridge was commissioned to make definite arrangements
with the Indians for a site of a missionary station on Grand River. Sears
and Trowbridge visited the Grand River Valley in the fall of 1822, and
selected a site, after which they returned to Fort Wayne. McCoy visited
the valley the next spring, and on May 30, 1823, crossed the Grand River
near the rapids. He found the Indians dissatisfied with the treaty, and
was received with anything but a hospitable welcome.
The chief was not at the village, and nearly all the inhabitants were
in a state of intoxication by liquor obtained from some traders. McCoy
at once abandoned the expedition, and returned to a mission which had been
established on the St. Joseph River, and which was called Carey. The next
year McCoy visited the Ottawas on the Kalamazoo River, and induced them
to let him establish a blacksmith shop on the border between the Ottawa
and Potawatomie territories. This modified the temper of the Ottawas for
a time, and opened the way for further operations.
In November, 1824, McCoy, with several companions, left the St. Joseph
River for a second visit to the rapids of Grand River. On reaching the
border of the Ottawa country they found that the blacksmith shop built
the preceding year had been burned by the Indians, who still felt unfriendly
to the whites because of the Chicago treaty. On November 27, 1824, they
reached Gun lake, and encamped upon its banks. The next day they were visited
by Noonday, the Ottawa chief of the Indian village at the Rapids, who,
with some followers, was camping on the opposite side of the lake. McCoy
found that Noonday was desirous of having a mission established at the
Rapids, and the next day both the whites and the Indians raised camp and
proceeded together toward Grand River. On December 1, the river was reached
and crossed. The same day McCoy selected a site for a mission, which was
located just south of where is now the corner of West Bridge and Front
streets. The selection was afterward approved by Governor Cass, and confirmed
by the Secretary of War.
The site selected two years before by Sears and Trowbridge is supposed
to have been several miles up the river, but the exact spot chosen is now
unknown. The next day McCoy started on his return to the St. Joseph River,
and was accompanied a portion of the way by Noonday. The next spring Mr.
Polke (teacher), a blacksmith, and two or three others were sent to the
Rapids by McCoy to open the mission, but they found a great majority of
the Indians still hostile to the project, and were obliged to depart without
accomplishing their object. Soon afterward Polke returned to the Rapids,
and found a great change in the sentiment of the Indians. They expressed
regret for their former action, and wished to have the mission at once
established. In September, 1825, farming utensils, mechanical tools and
provisions were sent by boat down the St. Joseph River, along the lake
shore and up the Grand River to the Rapids, while McCoy, with several assistants,
traveled overland to the same place.
Permanent log buildings were at once erected on the site chosen the
year before, and the mission was fully established.
INDIAN VILLAGES AND CHIEFS.
When the mission was founded there were two Indian villages at the Rapids.
One was situated along the west side of the river from West Bridge street
north; the other was in the neighborhood of where is now West Fulton street,
with its center near the corner of Watson and West Broadway streets.
The south village was the larger, and numbered three hundred inhabitants
or more. It was presided over by a chief named Me-gis-o-riee-nee ( Mex-ci-ne-ne),
or the Wampum-man. He was an eloquent speaker and a man of influence among
his people. The Indian commissioners always found him wary in negotiations
and slow to accept their overtures. He was of an aristocratic, haughty
disposition, and was something of a dandy in the matter of dress. While
at Washington to negotiate the treaty of 1836 he was presented by President
Jackson with a suit of new clothes, of which he was very proud, and with
it insisted upon having a high hat with a mourning badge. He was among
the foremost of his people to adopt the white man's ways. His habits were
good, and he lived and died in the Catholic faith. In the year 1843 his
existence was terminated by a sudden illness, and his funeral was attended
by nearly every citizen of Grand Rapids, white as well as red.
Another Indian chief living at the lower village was Muck-i-ta-o-ska,
or Black skin, who in his early years was an active foe of the Americans.
He fought with the British in the War of 1812, and is said to have been
the leader of the band who set fire to the village of Buffalo during that
war. He lived to a great age and died in 1868.
The chief of the upper village at the Rapids was Qua-ke-zik (Noonday),
a friendly, industrious Indian, who always worked for the good of his people,
and was among the first to obtain the favor of the whites. He was happy
in his domestic relations, and a man of excellent habits. Old settlers
often speak of his fine physique. Fully six feet tall, well proportioned,
and a noble looking man, he was well advanced in years when the Grand River
Valley was first visited by American settlers. He died at Gull Prairie
in 1840, and a plain stone slab marks his grave. He also fought with the
British during the War of 1812. Henry Little, of Kalamazoo, once wrote
this amusing description of Chief Noonday and his squaw: "His Serene Highness,
Mr. Noonday, was a tall, straight, well proportioned, well constructed
specimen of the Nish-a-nob-bee race. He was reserved, solemn, demure and
dignified in his deportment. Her lady ship, Mrs. Noonday, was a short,
dumpy, unassuming lady of the old school. Nature had not seen fit to make
her very . attractive by the bewitching, fascinating charms of personal
beauty; and what little there might have been of feminine comeliness in
her features had been sadly marred by an ugly scar upon the left side of
her face."
It was a general belief in the days of the settlement of Grand Rapids
that Noonday was at the burning of Buffalo. A settler of 1835 asserts that
the chief told him that he assisted in kindling the fire. On the other
hand, it is stated that just before his death Noonday denied that story.
The chief of the Flat River Indians was Cob-mu-sa, or the Walker. He
was the husband of three wives and treated each with the respect and consideration
due the consort of a mighty chief. Aside from the number of his wives his
morals were good. In personal appearance he was not the equal of his neighbors.
He was a little below medium height and inclined to corpulency. It is said
that there was Negro blood in his veins. In his last days he became a vagrant
and a drunkard. His village was about two miles from the junction of Flat
and Grand Rivers, and was one of the largest in the valley. It numbered
three hundred inhabitants or upward.
At the Thornapple River, or Ada, there was a small band of Indians,
of whom Ma-ob-bin na-kiz-hick, or Hazy Cloud, was the chief Although of
small stature, he was a man of commanding influence with his tribe. He
was on the most friendly terms with the whites, visited Washington, and
was one of the leading spirits in the treaty of 1836.
His sister was the wife of Rix Robinson. Between the Thornapple River
and the Rapids there were a few families who were under the authority of
Canote, a chief who stood high in the estimation of the early settlers.
Below the Rapids, at the mouth of Crockery Creek, was a small Indian
village of which Sag-e-nish, or the Englishman, was chief. As his name
implied, he was a great friend of the white men. At Battle Point, a few
miles above Grand Haven, was another Indian village, whose chief was O-na-mon-ta-pe,
or Old Rock. At Black Lake, near Holland, there was a village numbering
less than three hundred, which was ruled over by a chief named Wa-ka-zoo.
In 1848 he, with his band, removed to Grand Traverse, where he soon after
died. In his last years he became a drunken vagabond.
In Ionia county there were two Indian villages of importance on the
Grand River. One was at Lyons, where the prairie was used for a cornfield
for ages, and the other was near the mouth of the Lookingglass River. The
latter was called Mis-she-min o-kon, or the Apple Field. It was abandoned
by the Indians at an early day. Among the Indians of the valley there were
other chiefs than those already mentioned. There was Pa-mos-ka, a leading
chief whose home was many times changed, but who generally lived in the
villages down the river, at Crockery Creek and Battle Point.
There were Ke-way-coosh-cum, or Long Nose, and Wa-ba-sis, both of whom
fell victims to Indian vengeance for the part they took in the treaties
with the whites. The former was killed in a drunken brawl by an Indian
named Was-o-ge-naw. Each had come to Grand Rapids to receive his annual
stipend on payment day, and having been paid became intoxicated. They were
sitting on the bank of the river, near the mouth of Coldbrook Creek, when
a dispute arose relative to the treaty, and Was-o-ge-naw seized a club
and felled his victim to the earth with a blow that killed him on the spot.
The matter was not investigated by the officers of the law because it was
considered that he was executed in accordance with the Indian custom and
idea of justice. Because of the prominent part he took in the treaties
Wa-ba-sis was exiled from his tribe. For many years he lived alone on the
bank of a small lake in the northern part of Kent county. In an unguarded
moment he was induced by his enemies to partake in a corn feast at Plainfield,
where he was made drunk and then murdered. He was buried near where is
now the Plainfield bridge. The head of the body was left above the ground,
and food and tobacco for many weeks were daily placed on the grave for
the nourishment and comfort of his spirit on its journey to the happy hunting
grounds.
Another noted chief was Okemos, who lived near Lansing for many years.
He died in 1858, upward of one hundred years old. He was in his early days
a warrior of undoubted bravery. Upon his breast was a huge cicatrix made
by a sabre in the hand of one of Mad Anthony's troopers. He fought at Fort
Meigs, and received wounds in his head which, it seemed, would have killed
any human being but an Indian. There were scars in his skull in which three
fingers could be placed. He was buried at Mis-she-min-o-kon, the old Indian
village near Portland.
INDIAN NAMES.
That the Indians were a poetical people to some degree, is shown by
their names of the rivers of Western Michigan. The St. Joseph River was
O'-sang-e-wong-se-he, or the Sauk Indian River. It was so named because,
according to tradition, the spirit of a Sauk Indian wandered along its
banks.
New Buffalo River was Kosh-kish-ko-mong, or the-diving-kitten. The Paw
Paw River was Nim-me-keg-sink, which means the Paw Paw River. Kalamazoo
is an English corruption of the Indian name of the river, which was Kik-ken-a-ma-zoo,
or the Boiling Kettle, so named from its eddying waters.
South Haven was called Muck-i-ta-wog go-me, or the Black Water. Macatawa
is an English corruption of the same name. Grand River was called O-wash-ta-nong,
or the-far-away-water, so named because it was the longest river in the
territory. Thornapple River was called Me-nos-so-gos-o she-kink, or the
Forks.
Flat River was called Coh-boh-gwosh-she, meaning the Shallow River.
The Indian name of Maple River was Shick-a-me-o-she-kink, which means the
Maple River.
Muskegon is one of the Indian names of the country which has not been
changed by the whites. It means the Tamarack River, and was so called because
of the number of tamarack trees along the banks. White River was called
Wan-be-gun-gwesh-cup-a-go, or the river-with-white-clay-in-its-bank. Manistee
means the-river-with-white-bushes-on-the bank, which referred to the white
poplar trees on its borders.
CEDING THE LANDS NORTH OF GRAND RIVER.
In March, 1836, a treaty was negotiated at Washington, by which the
Indians ceded to the United States the lands north of Grand River. There
were seventy thousand acres reserved north of the Pere Marquette River,
fifty thousand acres on Little Traverse Bay, twenty thousand acres on the
north shore of Grand Traverse Bay, and various other small reservations
in different parts of the country. In consideration of the cession, the
United States Government agreed to pay the Indians of Western Michigan
the sum of $18,000 annually for twenty years. A sum of S5,000 annually
for twenty years was to he appropriated for teachers, books in the Indian
language and school houses; $10,000 for agricultural implements, cattle,
mechanical tools and other articles; $2,OOO annually for provisions, and
$300 annually for medicines. The Indians were to receive $150,000 worth
of goods and provisions, which were to be delivered on the ratification
of the treaty; $300, 000 was appropriated to pay off the just debts of
the Indians, and $150,000 for the half-breeds of the tribes.
Various sums of money were to be paid to individual Indians. The Grand
River Valley chiefs received $500 each, and to Rix Robinson was granted
$23,000. This generous treaty was signed by Henry Schoolcraft for the United
States, and by twenty chiefs for the Indians. Of these chiefs three - Wab
i-wid-i-go, Mix-i-ci-ninny and Na-bun-a-gu zhig (names as they appear on
the treaties) - represented Grand River tribes; the rest were from other
parts of the State.
There were some thirty chiefs in all in this valley at the time. The
witnesses were John Hulbert, Lucius Lyon, R. P. Parrot, U. S. A.; W. P.
Zantzinger, U. S. N.; Josiah F. Polk, John Holiday, John A. Drew, Rix Robinson,
Leonard Slater, Louis Moran, Augustus Hamelin, Jr., Henry A. Levake, William
Lasley, Geo. W. Woodward and C. 0. Ermatinger.
As soon as the Washington treaty of 1836 was completed a land office
was opened at Ionia, and the lands north of Grand River were rapidly taken
by settlers. By the conditions of the treaty the Indians could hunt on
the public lands of the United States, and for many years they remained
in the country and availed themselves of the privilege. The annual payments
which they were to receive under the treaty were made at Grand Rapids,
and continued for more than twenty years.
At the early payments near four thousand Indians received their pay
here, but they decreased as the years went by. The Potawatomies were early
sent to their reservation in Indiana, while the Chippewas were transferred
to reservations in Northern Michigan. Separate bands of Ottawas were at
different times transported beyond the Mississippi, and many individual
Indians fled beyond the Mississippi, as they were ostracised by their own
people or threatened with legal prosecutions by the whites.
A SUPPLEMENTAL TREATY.
On the 31st of July, 1855, at Detroit, another treaty, in place of the
treaty of 1836, was made with the Ottawas and Chippewas of Michigan, by
the United States Indian Agent, Henry C. Gilbert, by which they were to
receive annually a cash annuity of $22,000 for ten years, and at the end
of that time the Government was to pay them $200,000, in four annual payments
of $50,000 each, or, if the Indians so elected, they were to receive the
interest on that sum held in trust by the United States. There was also
to be distributed among them $15,000 worth of agricultural implements,
and a grant was made of $8,000 for educational purposes. Four blacksmith
shops were to be maintained for their use, and five interpreters were to
be furnished. In addition to their share of the above the Grand River Indians
were to receive an annuity of $3,500.
They were also to have eight townships of public lands which were to
be preserved for them ten years, at the end of which time they could sell
the same at pleasure. By this Detroit treaty any Indian of Michigan was
granted the privilege of renouncing his tribal relations and becoming a
citizen of the United States; and through the influence of Mr. Gilbert
many of them purchased and settled upon Government land.
In 1855 about one thousand Indians received their annuities at Grand
Rapids. The last payment at this place was made October 29, 1857, when
$10,000 was paid in gold and silver to about one thousand five hundred
Indians, squaws and pappooses. After that date the payments were made at
Pentwater.
THE ANNUAL PAYMENTS.
Indian payments were events in the early history of Grand Rapids. The
Government agents would send word that a certain date would be pay day,
and the Indians would begin to congregate ten days or two weeks before.
They camped upon the islands, and along the river banks, and in the bushes
on the higher grounds. Payments were generally made in the fall, before
the Indians started for their winter hunts. The agents usually paid at
one of the warehouses which stood near the old steamboat landing between
Waterloo street and the river. In a large room would be a long table, or
counter, upon which were the receipts and little piles of coin for each
Indian, and about which were seated the agents, clerks and interpreters.
The Indians would enter the front door one by one, sign their receipts
or make their marks thereon, receive their money and walk out at the back
door, where stood a crowd of hungry traders, who quickly transferred most
of the money from the hands of the Indians to their own pockets, for the
payment of old debts. The traders commonly claimed all they could see,
and the Indians, as a rule, gave it up without protest. They were generally
in debt, but were always ready to pay when they had any money. The traders
never hesitated to give credit to an Indian. One who traded with them for
years at Grand Rapids, states that annually he sold thousands of dollars
worth of goods to the Indians on credit, and during all that time he lost
less than a hundred dollars on poor accounts. The next day after payment
the Indians always departed, none remaining but the drunkards and vagabonds,
who staid behind for a debauch. The Enquirer, of November 2, 1841, refers
to the fact that in the week previous was the Indian payment, and facetiously
adds that there were about fifteen hundred Indians, two traders to each
Indian, and two gallons of diluted whisky to each trader. The editor inquires,
seriously: "Is there no remedy for this barbarous and wicked system of
robbery?"
There appears, however, to have been some improvement the next year
(1842), when the Paymaster stated that there was much less dissipation
among the Indians at Grand Rapids than at any other place where he had
made payment, and the newspaper testified that "No barrels were rolled
out as heretofore, and the heads knocked in that the savage might be allowed
to gorge his fill of the destroyer."
TRADE WITH THE INDIANS.
In the early days of the settlements, the Indian trade of the Grand
River Valley was of no small importance. The Indians traded furs, berries
and maple sugar for dry and fancy goods, ammunition and whisky. Beads and
whisky were legal tender to an Indian. The furs were sent to Detroit, while
the berries were packed in barrels and shipped to Buffalo.
Maple sugar, if sent away, was generally consigned to commission merchants
in Boston and New York. During the busy season Indians would camp about
the huckleberry swamps and cranberry marshes, pick the berries and then
deliver them at Grand Rapids. They were carried by squaws, or transported
by ponies.
Much maple sugar was brought to the Rapids by water. During the spring
Grand River was alive with canoes bringing sugar which had been made by
the squaws in all portions of the valley. It was stirred sugar, packed
in "mokirks," which were small baskets or boxes, and the packages ranged
in weight from one to sixty pounds.
The smaller mokirks were often elaborately decorated by the squaws with
fancy work.
There was such sharp competition in the fur trade that the local traders
would not wait for the Indians to bring their furs to market, but would
often send messengers with goods directly to the Indian camps. Late in
the fall the Indians would separate, and each family would go into camp
for hunting and trapping during the winter, when the traders in the Rapids
would dispatch men for the furs. Each went by himself, and his equipment
generally consisted of an Indian guide and a pony. The Indian carried a
pack of about fifty pounds weight, while the pony carried all that could
be piled on him.
The loads consisted of provisions for the traders and fancy goods for
trade. No whisky was carried on such expeditions. When an installment of
furs was secured the Indian was sent back to the Rapids with a pack of
furs, while the white man continued his journey, and was after ward joined
by his dusky companion, who brought a fresh supply of goods. When the snow
was too deep for the pony he would be abandoned, and the men would continue
the search for Indians and furs, on snow shoes. By such methods did each
trader endeavor to get the start of his rivals. Each kept several men in
the forests all winter. Grand Haven, Allegan, Saugatuck, Gun Lake, Gull
Prairie, Thornapple River, Lyons, Lookingglass River, Maple River, were
all visited and canvassed over and over again for furs.
Furs were always a staple article and commanded about the following
prices in trade: Beaver, $1.25 a pound, weighed by hand, which means that
the trader guessed at the weight and paid the Indian accordingly. It is
needless to add that the furs never fell short of weight when weighed at
the warehouse. Mink commanded from fifty cents to $1.. Smoke skin (buckskin),
$1 each. Martin, $1 to $1.25; lynx, $1 to $1.25; muskrat, five cents each.
Wolf and bear skins were not of much value. Fashions did not change,
and the above prices continued for years. The squaws always smoked and
prepared the skins for market. Other staple articles of commerce were moccasins,
which were made by the squaws. They were always elaborately ornamented
with beads, and often days were spent on a pair of moccasins which sold
for fifty cents or a dollar.
LEARNING SOCIAL WAYS.
The Indians of the valley were very social in certain ways. When Grand
Rapids was only a trading post the French traders, among whom were the
Campaus and Godfroys, called upon their lady friends upon New Year's Day
and saluted them with a kiss upon each cheek. The Indians quickly adopted
the fashion of the Frenchmen, with this change - the squaws called upon
the white men, and the unlucky pale face who was kissed by a squaw on New
Year's Day was obliged to give her a drink of whisky. No white man escaped,
for, if one squaw alone could not secure the coveted forfeit, she called
to her aid enough of her dusky sisters to throw the victim down and then
each kissed him in turn.
The result was that the squaws frequently became gloriously drunk, and
woe to the white man who was kissed by them while they were in that condition,
since they did not hesitate to use violence to obtain the desired reward.
While the squaws and white men were having rough and tumble scuffles
at the stores and taverns, the Indians often visited the kitchens of the
white women, where they were treated to doughnuts, cookies and other eatables.
An Indian always made a call by first peeping in at the window and then
entering at the door without knocking. The Indians were persistent beggars,
but were generally refused food by the white women, except on New Year's
Day. They were not at all modest in their demands. It is related that the
wife of one early settler, who had recently arrived from the East and was
unacquainted with Indian ways, placed her full supply of provisions upon
the table when the first dusky callers appeared, expecting, of course,
that they would take a few pieces and go away; but nothing abashed they
suddenly produced some bags, gathered in all the eatables, and departed,
without leaving the family enough for a dinner.
That woman's confidence in the character of the noble red man was very
much shaken by the incident, and ever after she was careful that no Indian
should know the extent of the stores in her pantry.
FUNERAL RITES.
The Indians of Grand River Valley did not differ materially from other
American Indians in their general habits and customs. In caring for their
dead they observed peculiar rites and ceremonies. A few days after the
burial the relatives of the deceased gave a feast to the friends of the
departed, who repaired to the grave where the food was distributed. If
the feast was prepared by a man, none but men attended; if by a woman,
none but women attended. Each one, before partaking, placed a small portion
of food on the head of the grave for the use of the departed on his long
journey to the happy hunting grounds. When the party consisted of warriors,
elaborate addresses were made, and the virtues of the dead were chanted.
If it were a gathering of females, and if one of the company were considered
profligate, she was not allowed to make an offering to the dead, but another
received her portion of the feast and offered it for her.
After the offerings were made, the remainder of the feast was eaten
by the company. The feasts were annually repeated. Among the Ottawas it
was customary to place at the head of the grave a post, which by its size
indicated the age of the deceased. About the post were hieroglyphics which
illustrated the heroic deeds of the dead. Near the post was generally placed
a small stick about two feet long, which a visitor used to strike the post
and announce his arrival to the dead.
McCoy, on one of his early visits to Grand Rapids, refers to the fact
that his party met a company of squaws carrying kettles of food to the
grave of a child who had died a short time previously. Gordon S. Hubbard,
of Chicago, in a paper read before the Michigan Pioneer Society, describes
an Indian funeral feast as follows:
On our way to Mackinaw in the spring of 1819 hearing that the
Indians on the eastern coast of Lake Michigan would hold a feast for the
dead at the mouth of Grand River, in the full of the May moon, we determined
to be present at the ceremonies. The feast consisted first in clearing
away the ground around the graves, putting them in perfect order, and erecting
slender poles at the head of each grave, at the tops of which were attached
strips of white cloth for streamers. At the head of each grave a small
place was staked off in which food was placed for the souls of the dead.
All except the young children blackened their faces, and fasted two days,
eating nothing nor engaging in any amusement, spending their time in silence
or lamentations for the loss of their friends. At the expiration of two
days of mourning, their faces were washed and painted, and dressing in
their best attire and decorations they commenced feasting, entertaining
and visiting; wishing their relatives to share with them the good things
they had prepared, they placed in the inclosure at the heads of the graves
dishes of food. This feast is followed by their celebrated game of ball,
which is intensely exciting - even the dogs become exhilarated, and add
to the commotion by barking and racing.
INDIAN INTRACTABILITY.
It is a source of wonder to those who have never given the subject careful
attention that the Indians, by contact with a superior civilization and
the continued efforts of teachers and missionaries, did not renounce their
savage ways and habits and learn to live like their white neighbors; but
experience has shown that the Indians, as a race, are incapable of civilization.
Even the most favorable circumstances cannot eradicate from an Indian's
heart his love of a savage life. In the spring of 1838, during the days
of an Indian payment at which, it is said, more than one thousand two hundred,
of several different tribes, were present, a few young people were practicing
for choir service, singing with flute accompaniment, in the counting-room
of the store of A. H. Smith, on Waterloo street. A crowd of the natives
gathered to enjoy the music and admire the instruments. One who was present
related the incident several years ago in the columns of the New York Christian
Union, and from his story the following is extracted:
Great was our surprise when from the assembled crowd of savages a young
brave of about twenty-five years, as dirty and as unkempt as any of his
associates, picked up the Boston Handel and Hadyn note book, from which
we had been playing, and turned over the leaves as any of his rude companions
would have done, apparently wrapped in a sort of dazed admiration, as we
supposed, of the fabric and the printing, always so mysterious to the superstitious
savage. But suddenly, with kindling eye and flushing cheek, he beckoned
from the crowd one of his companions - a young man about his own age, and,
like himself, a thorough-bred savage in appearance - and turning pleasantly
to us and pointing to the tune indicated, in unexceptionable English said:
"Will you play `St. Martin's,' if you please?" which I wonderingly did,
carrying the air with the flute, when he taking the tenor and his companion
the bass, they sang from the book the words of the hymn as sweetly and
as correctly as the best of us of the Court House choir could have done;
and not only that, but through tune after tune, and hymn after hymn, anthems
and all, for an hour or more the young savage led the way with a fluency
and correctness as to both music and words which demonstrated no superficial
ear-work, but knowledge born of much study and intelligent practice; and
his companion was not one whit behind him. Here now was a new thing, and
of a most surprising nature. A full-blooded Potawatomie with moccasins
and leggins, calico shirt, gay cotton head-dress, ringed ears, blankets,
and above all that indescribable Indian odor of blended wood-smoke, fish
and muskrat, and yet with the manners of a gentleman, and the accent of
a scholar, singing readily by note our most elaborate hymn tunes and set
pieces; and here too was an apparently equally accomplished companion,
but equally dirty and unkempt, and of equally pure Indian blood, accompanying
him.
Of course there must be a history behind it, and as there were yet to
be two or three days remaining before the camps would be broken up, we
set ourselves to the work of winning the confidence of these wondrous savages
and learning their history. This is in substance what they told us: Their
names (as known among the whites) were Adoniram Judson and George Dana
Boardman. They were two of the Indian boys (Potawatomies) selected by the
Rev. Isaac McCoy from among the pupils of the Carey Mission School, then
located south of the St. Joseph River, in Michigan.
It was part of Mr. McCoy's plan, as appears from his history of the
Mission, to fit for enlarged usefulness among their countrymen some of
his most hopeful Christian pupils. His own language is simply expressive.
He says: "We were allowed the peculiar felicity of church fellowship with
a considerable number of our Indian pupils; and from among them we proposed
to make a selection of some who appeared to possess the most promising
talents, whom we should endeavor to qualify for superior usefulness."
This was in 1826, and Judson and Boardman were two of the seven youths
who that year entered the Literary and Theological Institute (now Madison
University) at Hamilton, New York, to fit themselves for "superior usefulness
among their own country men." These youths, as appears from their record
while in college, were of unexceptionable character and deportment. As
I afterward learned, they became to a degree the pets and proteges of the
good citizens in and around Hamilton. All houses were open to their visits.
They had full companionship with those of their own age, in all companies,
and with both sexes. They became largely imbued with a devoted missionary
spirit, and having completed their prescribed course of study, after several
years' absence they returned to their destined field of labor, "fitted
for superior usefulness among their own countrymen."
And now we will let Judson, who was the chief speaker, give his own
experience, and the substance of his explanation of his present condition.
He said: "I went home among my own people full of purpose and sanguine
expectation. They should have schools. They should have churches. They
should learn mechanics and farming, and have crops and stock and books,
and all the blessings of civilization. Our work was before us. We were
young and strong and patient. What should hinder? So we thought. But everything
did hinder. Our people did not want such things. They turned from us with
contempt and derision. Our civilized clothing was an unceasing object of
their ridicule. Our names, which they made ridiculous by their pronunciation,
were a sign that we had renounced our parents and our people.
We were neither Indians nor white men. We were not wanted by either.
Having no Indian virtues or accomplishments, we were useless in the woods;
and the whites did not need us, for they were our superiors. Even the young
girls, when we approached them, openly showed their contempt. At last we
could no longer stand the scorn and ridicule which overwhelmed us. We gave
it up in despair. Our own people fairly drove us away from them as useless
and disagreeable members of their society. We left them, completely cowed
and disheartened, and returned to the settlements. Hearing that a teacher
was wanted for an academy at Gull Prairie. I presented my credentials of
character and scholarship to the trustees, and was appointed Principal.
Life now opened very brightly before me. I had a good school, loved teaching,
loved my pupils, was active in religious meetings, taught the choir and
singing school, and every house was open to my visits. The whole community
seemed to love me, and I was happy. Especially was I fond of a bright and
beautiful young lady, one of my best pupils. We went together everywhere:
to church, to singing school, evening parties and social visits.
Everywhere she went with me, and seemed proud of my devotion. After
a few months I proposed to marry her, and was referred to my warm friends,
her parents. And this is what they said to me: What! you, an Indian, presume
to address our daughter! Our daughter marry an Indian! You are crazy. She
might as well marry a Negro. You will never be anything but an Indian for
all your education. Remember this, and never presume again with your attentions.
We are your friends, and if you will consider it, you will see that it
must be as we state it.' All that night I did consider it. Crushed to the
earth in my humiliation, bruised and half stunned by the cruel scorn which
accompanied my rejection, I saw clearly that it could never be different.
I was an Indian, and could never be anything but an Indian, God help
me! So the next day I resigned my position, dismissed my pupils, gave away
my broadcloth suit, boots, and beaver, put on moccasins, leggins and blanket,
and took to the bush, where I shall thus live and die among my own people.
This was three years ago, and for the future I can only be an Indian, as
God has made me."
A year or two later, these men, moccasined and blanketed, went west
of the Mississippi with their people, carrying with them their gentle culture,
fair scholarship and humbled aspirations.
THE INDIAN STUDENT.
From Susqehanna' utmost springs, Where savage tribes pursue their game, His blanket tied with yellow strings, The Shepherd of the Forest came.
Not long before a wandering priest Expressed his wish, with visage sad - "Ah, why," he cried, `in Satan's waste Ah, why detain so fine a lad?"
"in yonder land there stands a town, Where learning may be purchased low', Exchange his blanket for a gown. And let the lad to college go."
From long debate the council rose, And, viewing Shalom's tricks with joy, To Harvard hall, o'er waste of snows, They sent the copper-colored boy.
One generous chief a bow supplied: This gave a shaft and that a skin: The feathers, with vermillion dyed, Himself did from the turkey win.
Thus dressed so gay, he took his way O'er barren hills, alone, alone: His guide a star, he wandered far, His pillow every night a Stone.
At last he came, with leg so lame, Where learned men talk heathen Greek; And Hebrew lore is gabbled o'er, To please the Muses, twice a week.
Awhile he wrote: awhile he read; Awhile he learned the grammar rules; An Indian savage so well bred Great credit promised to their schools.
Some thought in law he would excel Some said in physic he would shine; And some, who knew him passing well, Beheld in him a sound divine.
But some, of more discerning eye, E'en then could other prospects show, They saw him lay his Virgil by, And wander with his dearer bow,
The tedious hours of study spent, The heavy-moulded lecture done: He to the woods a-hunting went, But sighed to see the setting sun,
No mystic wonders fired his mind; He sought to gain no learned degree But only sense enough to find The squirrel in the hollow tree.
The shady bank, the purling stream, The woody wild his heart possessed: The dewy lawn his morning dream, In fancy's gayest colors dressed.
"And why," he cried, "did I forsake My native wood for gloomy walls: The silver stream, the limpid lake, For musty books and college halls?
`A little could my wants supply; Can wealth and honor give me more? Or will the sylvan God of Day Give me the treat he gave before?
"Let seraphs reach the bright abode, And heaven's sublimest mansions see I only bow to Nature's God The land of shades will do for me.
"These direful secrets of the sky Alarm my soul with chilling fear. Do planets in their orbits fly? And is the earth indeed a sphere?
"Let planets still their aims pursue, And comets round creation run In Him, my faithful friend I view - The image of my God - the Sun.
"Where Nature's ancient forests grow, And mingled laurel never fades, My heart is fixed - and I must go, To die among my native shades."
He spoke, and to the western springs, His gown discharged, his money spent, His blanket tied with yellow strings, The Shepherd of the Forest went.
Returning to the rural reign, The Indians welcomed him with joy; The Council took him home again, And blessed the copper-colored boy.
INDIAN IDEAS OF JUSTICE.
In their primitive state the Indians had quite definite ideas of justice,
and an elaborate system of punishments for crime. As they had few or no
possessions, there were scarcely any crimes against property. The honesty
of the Indians is well illustrated by a story related by Louis Campau.
The old pioneer said:
"I remember long ago, when my pony died here, I hung my trading
pack on the limb of a tree near the trail, and went to Detroit for another
pony and new supplies. On coming back I found the pack contained nothing
but chips. The Indians had found it and had distributed all it contained
among themselves. Do you think they stole my goods? No. For every article
appropriated I found a chip marked with the totem of the buyer. Before
I could realize what had happened, a chief stood before me, shook me warmly
by the hand, and asked me to enter the village to claim material in lieu
of the totem-bearing chips. I accompanied the noble savage, and received
exactly what the chips called for. That was the way the Indians used to
steal. A few white men came, and there was a little trouble. A few more
white men arrived, and there was more trouble. Then a lot came, and the
Indians became bad, and times grew worse. Finally the Indians were relieved
of their possessions."
The greed of possession brings many evils upon a material civilization.
For infidelity an Indian wife lost her nose, and her paramour suffered
death. It is a sad reflection upon the morals of the white men that Indian
women with mutilated faces multiplied as the settlers increased. It was
in cases of murder that Indian law made its power chiefly felt. The rule
was a life for a life. An Indian guilty of murder forfeited his own life
to the relatives of his victim. The forfeit was not always immediately
claimed. Sometimes it was months and even years before the criminal was
called upon to expiate his crime, and during that time he enjoyed the utmost
liberty, but the instance is not recorded where an Indian attempted to
escape from the just punishment demanded by his own people. It was Indian
law that the relatives of the person killed could accept goods and property
from the criminal for an atonement.
In such cases it was usual for the relatives of the dead to appropriate
everything belonging to the criminal, even to stripping the last blanket
from his shoulders.
DEATH PENALTY -- AN EXECUTION.
An old Chicago pioneer (the late Gurdori S. Hubbard) relates that he
once witnessed an Indian execution on the Manistee River. A Canadian Indian
had married a woman of the Manistee band, and lived with them. In a drunken
quarrel he killed a son of the chief. He could save his life by abandoning
his family and fleeing to his own tribe, but, if he did so, one of his
wife's brothers would doubtless be killed in his stead.
He was poor and could make no payment of goods for expiation. Telling
his wife's brothers where he could be found, he gathered together his traps
and ammunition, and with his family departed, hoping to secure enough furs
to make a proper payment. The chief demanded vengeance, and threatened
to kill one of the brothers. In mid-winter the youngest brother went to
the fugitive and told him the demand of the chief. The murderer promised
to return in the spring.
Let the story of what followed be told in the words of the pioneer:
"One evening it was announced in our camp that on the morrow an
Indian would deliver himself up. Early in the morning the chief made preparations.
The place selected was in a valley surrounded by sand hills on which we
traders and the Indians assembled. The chief and his family were in the
valley where all who were on the hills had a full view of them and the
surroundings. It was a beautiful May morning. Soon after sunrise we heard
the monotonous beating of the Indian drum, and the voice of the Indian
singing his death song. Emerging from the lake beach he came in sight,
while his wife and children followed in single file. He came near the chief,
still singing, and laid down his drum. His wife and children seated them
selves. Then, in a clear voice, he said: "I in a drunken moment stabbed
your son, provoked to it by his calling me an old woman and a coward. I
escaped to the marshes at the head of the Muskegon, hoping the Great Spirit
would care for me and give me a good hunt that I might pay you for your
lost son. I was not successful. Here is the knife that killed your son.
I desire to be killed by it. It is all I have to offer except my wife and
children. I am done." The chief took the knife and handed it to his oldest
son, saying, "kill him." The son took the knife, approached the culprit,
put his hand upon his shoulder, made one or two motions to stab, and then
drove the knife to the handle into his breast. Not a word was heard from
the assembled Indians or the whites, not a sound but the songs of the birds;
every eye was upon the noble Indian who stood without emotion looking upon
his executioner. He received the blow calmly, nor did he shrink when it
was given. For a few seconds he stood erect, the blood at every breath
spurting from the wound, then his knees began to quiver, his eyes and face
to lose expression. He fell upon the sand. All this time his wife and children
sat motionless, gazing upon the husband and father, without a murmur or
a sigh till life was extinct. Then, throwing themselves upon his dead body,
they gave way to such grief and lamentations as brought tears to the eyes
of all. For fifteen or twenty minutes the chief and his family sat motionless,
evidently feeling regret; then he rose, and approaching the body said in
a trembling voice: "Woman, stop weeping! Your husband was a brave man;
and like a brave man he was not afraid to die in satisfaction for the life
of my son, as the rules of our nation demand. We adopt you and your children
to be in the place of my son. Our lodges are open to you. Live with us,
and we will treat you like our sons and daughters. You shall have our protection
and love." I subsequently saw this mother and her children in their lodges."
It is stated that in the early days of the white settlements in the
Grand River Valley, an American mother intrusted her infant child to the
keeping of an Indian girl, who, in a careless moment, allowed the little
one to fall, which caused its instant death. The poor girl was at once
bound as a prisoner and placed in the black wigwam. The savages chanted
the death song, and inexorable Indian law claimed a victim. A few old settlers,
among whom was Louis Campau, hearing of the matter went in haste to the
Indian village, obtained an interview with the poor girl, and then sought
a pardon from her savage but impartial judges. Reluctantly it was granted,
but the Indians reserved the right to inflict capital punishment at any
time the white mother should call "a life for a life."
It is proper to add that the humane mother never demanded the sacrifice.
In the fall of 1835, George Sizer was hunting one evening along a deer
lick by Plaster Creek, south of Grand Rapids, when he was shot through
the heart by an Indian who mistook him for a deer, through the thick bushes.
Discovering his mistake, the slayer fled in haste to the Indian village
at the Rapids, told his story and gave himself up to his fellows, who at
once began to make preparations for his execution; for by Indian law his
life was forfeited. The settlers heard of the matter, and hastened to intercede
with the Indians for the life of the man who had accidentally killed a
fellow being. It required much argument and persuasion to convince the
Indians that no crime had been committed. It seemed impossible for them
to conceive that intent should be a necessary ingredient of crime. At last
the efforts of the settlers secured the release of the poor Indian.
THE CRUEL DEATH BY FIRE.
Stern savage law required that those who shed the blood of their kin
should suffer death by torture. Such punishment was inflicted upon one
at Maple River in 1853 by a band then encamped on the banks of that stream.
An Ottawa, maddened by liquor, killed his squaw, threw her body upon the
fire and then fled. He was pursued and captured, tried by a solemn council
of his race and doomed to die a cruel death by slow, lingering torture.
He was first compelled to assist in preparing his own coffin, from a hollow
log. Then he was tied fast to a tree, and in the night time, during several
nights in succession, was roasted by fires built so near him as to blister
and burn, in addition to which arrows were shot into the tender parts of
his body, his ears and nose were cut off, and his face and flesh scarified
in all the cruel ways that savage ingenuity could suggest to intensify
his torture. His tormentors would cease in the morning and leave him to
endure his pain through the day, while they feasted and slept, only to
renew their horrid work when night came, and this they continued until
the proud spirit of the savage left its earthly tenement.
The story in all its details is too sickening for cold print. It is
not recorded that the culprit victim gave way to any demonstrations of
agony. They wrapped his body in a blanket and put with it in the log coffin,
which he had helped to make, a bottle of whisky, a hunting knife, a pipe
and some tobacco. Over the rude grave they piled logs and brush. The murdered
squaw was thus avenged and the Indian sense of justice appeased. The camp
was hastily broken up, and soon silence reigned supreme, as if Nature were
awed by the terrible act of retribution there consummated.
During late years many Indians have abandoned the savage life and become
citizens. In 1867 the Superintendent of Indian agencies reported that there
were 8,008 Indians in Michigan, mixed bloods included; 3,823 males, and
4,185 females. They were divided into about seventy distinct bands, each
with a chief, and had 179 frame and 821 log houses. Many had settled upon
lands, and were accumulating property. The value of their personal property
at that time was estimated at $376,595, and they cultivated 10,772 acres
of land.
They had over two thousand homesteads. It is not hard to prognosticate
the future of the Indians of Western Michigan. Nearly all who remain have
adopted the white man's ways. They have taken their lands in severalty,
and generally live in communities by themselves; but as the years go by
they will inevitably become amalgamated with the whites, and as a race
will disappear. It is easy to imagine that a century or two hence some
lone Indian, the last of his race, may visit the Valley City, and standing
on some eminence over looking the valley, like the last of the Scotch Minstrels,
contrast the joys and freedom of the Indian occupancy with the greed and
selfishness of a material civilization.
And who shall say that the contrast will not rebound to the credit of
the Indian race? Everett, in a little poem entitled "Cobmoosa's Lament,"
has a pathetic touch of sentiment for the Indians:
My bow, my nerves, my heart are unstrung; My death song alone remains
to be sung. The braves of my clan have sunk to their rest; Their children
are gone to the North and the West; The forests have fallen, the land is
sold. Our birthright is gone for the Christian's gold, And manhood has
passed from the Indian's brow, Since he gave the soil to the white man's
plow.
As a son of the forest I lived in my pride; As sons of the forest my
forefathers died. Till I go to the land where the bright waters shine,
I'll live by their graves, and their grave shall be mine; I linger not
long, my nerves are unstrung; My death song is ready, it soon will be sung.
A statement printed in 1879, gave 10,250 as the number of Indians then
in Michigan, classed as follows: Ottawas and Chippewas, 5,500; Chippewas
of Lake Superior, including those of the Sault Ste. Marie, 2,000; Chippewas
of Saginaw and thereabout, 2,000; Chippewas of Grand River, 500; Potawatomies,
250. This was only an approximate estimate, but was thought to be under
rather than over the real number. From five to six hundred of their children
were reported as attending schools. And everywhere in the State they were
regarded as generally peaceful and law-abiding people. The United States
census of 1870 gave 4,926 as the number of Indians civilized or taxed in
Michigan, and that of 1880 gave 7,249, which shows a very large increase
in that class of residents. The State census, so far as the Indian population
is concerned, is comparatively worthless. The State, in the matter of enumeration,
appears to have forgotten its original people altogether.
Sentimentalize as we may, or gloss it over as we will, the story of
the American Indian is a sad one. It is true that large amounts have been
paid in annuities, ostensibly for the heritage that has been taken from
him by force or dissimulation. But only in the recent past has he been
accorded the rights of a citizen on any terms. He has been treated as an
outcast, and hunted like a wild beast. Our civilizing agencies have been
scarcely better than fire and warfare undisguised. There is of late some
reform and improvement, but the Indian problem is yet unsolved.
A LEGEND OF THE OTTAWAS.
The following interesting story was related and written long ago by
Capt. Thomas W. White, an early settler at Grand Haven, and in his later
years a resident of Grand Rapids; known by all who were acquainted with
him as a man of tenacious memory and strict truthfulness:
Many years ago (about 1845) I listened to a some what lengthy conversation
between a gentleman of learning from the State of New York and an aged
Indian Chief of the Ottawa tribe. I was so firmly impressed with the knowledge
I gained of the Indian character, and their history as then unfolded, to
me entirely new, that to this day that interview and what then took place,
is perhaps almost as fresh in my mind as pending the conference.
The Judge (for a Judge he was) stated that he had spent much time and
money in endeavoring to ascertain the precise part played by and with the
Six Nations (so-called) during the war with Great Britain, together with
the then present state of feeling among the Indians. The meeting was not
one of accident, but by request. The conversation was through one fully
competent, in both the English and Indian languages. The answers to questions
were given readily and with candor, leaving evidence upon my mind that
he (the chief) was learned in the history of his race as handed down by
tradition.
Whether any new facts were elicited, former research confirmed or contradicted,
I did not learn. After questioning the old chief upon his favorite theme,
he requested a history of the Ottawa tribe, as traditions had instructed
him, from their first knowledge of the white man. He gave it without hesitation,
and in a manner convincing those present that he was stating what he firmly
believed, and it was in this wise:
"A long time since, when their home and hunting ground was on the Ottawa
River, Canada, the principal chief of the tribe was seated in his wigwam;
around him was playing his only child; over the fire hung his kettle of
clay suspended by a rope of bark, while in the kettle was boiling his frugal
meal. Either from decay or from the action of the fire, the rope became
separated, throwing the contents of the kettle upon his idolized child,
scalding it so that death soon resulted. Frantic with grief, the chief,
day and night, in savage wailing paced in and around his lodge, until,
worn out by weeping and sighing, he fell asleep. While sleeping, he dreamed,
or had a vision."
In his vision a man appeared who, after endeavoring to comfort him,
directed him to proceed down the river until he should discover a beautiful
bird then shown him. He was told not to be discouraged by a day's march,
but to persevere, and he would surely meet that which would be to him of
lasting benefit; and not only to him, but to his tribe and their posterity.
Resolving this, to him, supernatural appearance in his mind, he concluded
that it was the Good Spirit that visited him, and if he obeyed his child
would be restored.
He therefore unhesitatingly proceeded on the journey, taking the course
marked out in the vision. On a dark, foggy morning, he was startled by
the crowing of a cock, the beautiful bird of his dream, and quickly beheld
through the mist a man without color. Alarmed, he was about to flee, when
the white man "poke kindly and beckoned him to his wigwam. Remembering
the object for which he started, and the promise upon which he rested,
he reluctantly followed this colorless being, so like himself in form.
He was given numerous articles of use and ornament for himself and members
of his tribe, with the request that they would exchange furs and skins
for such as would contribute to their comfort, or assist in securing game.
Among the presents was a kettle of iron or brass, with an iron rod or
chain with which to hang it over the fire. His child was not restored,
but he was the means of opening an advantageous trade, which had ever since
been carried on between the white man and the Indian.
The old chief then traced the wanderings of the tribe through different
points in Canada, and to their final resting place in Michigan. They appeared
to understand that a war was before them, and that they must conquer if
they made a home for themselves and their posterity upon the hunting grounds
of the Prairie tribe. They crossed near Mackinaw, and marched south, keeping
a strong force in advance of the main body, to scour the country and prevent
surprise.
They were unmolested until nearing Pere Marquette River, when their
scouts announced the enemy in their path. The two armies met on the bank
of Pere Marquette Lake, where the principal battle took place. From the
account of the engagement, as related by the chief, I was led to think
that Indian tradition records few if any greater slaughters. Extermination
appeared to have been the intention. The Ottawas were successful. The heads
of the defeated, left upon the field and overtaken in the chase, were severed
from their bodies and placed a little distance apart, their faces lakeward,
at the water's edge around Pere Marquette Lake. Calling for a map, the
aged Indian pointed out the extent thus occupied with the heads of their
enemies.
(I have been told that the French name of this river is not in use among
the Indians, but that the name they give it is one signifying the slaughter,
or the place of heads, or skulls).
Following the carnage was the usual feast - mirth as well as feasting.
At such feasts someone was entitled to have served for him the choicest
dish (in their estimation a mark of the greatest respect), the bear's tail.
On this occasion the recipient was a chief of the Potawatomie tribe, who,
with his followers, assisted them in the fight and, I think, was the guide
on their journey. This so much offended three of the Ottawa chiefs that
they withdrew with their clans, and never more identified themselves with
the tribe. Pontiac, one of them, settled near Detroit, another on the river
St. Joseph, and the third in the southeast part of the State.
The last battle with the Prairies was upon Grand River, exterminating
the tribe, and leaving their conquerors in undisputed ownership or possession
of the country.
After obtaining the foregoing history from the chief, the Judge inquired
what was the feeling generally of the Indians in the Western States toward
the people of the United States, and in the event of a war between this
country and England, with whom they would cast their fortunes. Without
hesitation he replied: "A very large majority with England." When asked
concerning his own small band, some what initiated into the habits of civilization,
his reply was that some of them would favor the British standard, and flee
thereto for protection, although they had never received aught but kindness
since they had been in daily intercourse with the citizens of the States
as neighbors and friends.
The cause of this preference was asked. The reply was that the gaudy
trappings of the British agents, indicating great wealth, in the estimation
of the Indians, together with the reported bountiful presents of the British
Government, were mainly the cause, connected with the story of the wrongs
suffered by their fathers, as handed down to them. Many, no doubt, would
act or pretend to act in accordance with solemn treaties made and adhered
to. `How were these treaties ratified," was asked, "and how recorded, that
your people feel thus solemnly bound to adhere to?' Pointing to the stove,
he said: "That stove is made of material that will decay it will crumble
and turn to dust, and cannot be found. Books and paper will decay also,
and no trace of them be left. But silver will not corrode, and the wampum
was placed between two plates of silver and bound with cords." When asked:
`Have these pledges ever been renewed?" he answered: "Yes, often. The great
chiefs of the two nations meet and together draw still tighter the cords
around the silver plates, renewing them if any signs of decay are visible."
The last question to the chief was relative to his personal opinions
and feelings. His manner, language and expression of countenance, when
answering this interrogatory, are as distinct in my mind to-day as they
were then to my ear and vision. They were touchingly eloquent. He straightened
himself up in his seat, with his face turned full toward his interrogator,
and an eye that seemed to reach out for a sympathetic response to his own
feelings. He said: "Notwithstanding the great wrongs practiced by your
fathers upon mine - driven by your strength, as we have been, from river
and plain, that you might send out your race to be enriched upon our soil
- I buried all my revengeful feelings, and when the hand of friendship
was extended to me, I did not take hold of it with the tips of my fingers,
that a little jostle might cast off, but made a firm grasp with my whole
hand" - suiting the action to the expression, showing the firmness of the
hold - which shall never be withdrawn by me!"
The story thus related by the old chief is strongly like other traditions
of the tribes who were here. Andrew J. Blackbird (Mack e-te-be-nessy, son
of the Ottawa chief, Mack-a-de-pe-nessy), in his history of the Ottawas
and Chippewas, relates traditions of his own ancestors very similar in
some points; as, for instance, he tells of their belief in supernatural
visitations; of the loss of a child from among those who came first from
the east up to the great lakes, which they believed was taken to a deep
cavern; and of the finding by one of their noted chiefs, over two hundred
and fifty years ago, of a large copper kettle, which they preserved as
a sacred relic, and used for great feasts. He says the traditions give
no reason for the movement of the Ottawas at an early period toward the
Northwest, but the supposition that it was to get away from their deadly
enemies, the Iroquois of New York. Blackbird tells of the destruction,
with terrible slaughter, of an Ottawa community at Arbor Croche, a continuous
village some fifteen miles long, the home of forty thousand Indians or
more. (This estimate of size and population of that village is undoubtedly
very greatly overdrawn).
His account in several respects agrees with other legends as to the
course of those people southward along the western side of this peninsula,
and the driving out by them of the earlier occupants, the Prairie tribes.
The village of which he speaks was along or near the lake shore north of
Little Traverse Bay. The paucity of material is an effectual bar to any
satisfactory outcome from the study of early Indian history. Nearly all
that has been discovered lies wrapped in mythological tradition.
THE INDIANS AT HOME.
The houses of the Indians in their wild estate were neither hovels nor
palaces. They knew no distinction of wealth or of poverty. They builded
themselves nests of the most primitive pattern and the simplest uniformity.
Many people of the present age have seen their huts of the original style
of construction and material; but the great majority have not. The isolated
family house was a wigwam, sometimes circular and sometimes angular in
form on the ground, and sloping to an apex or a central ridge, where was
a small opening which served for a chimney and skylight. Usually it was
made of small saplings set in rows in the ground to form the sides, bent
and tied together at the top, and these again covered or thatched with
brush, or with bark, or with flags and rushes, as a protection against
wind and rain.
Few, except in their villages, were larger than sufficient to hold one
or two dozen persons closely crowded, with a small space in the center
for the fire over which their game was roasted or their corn was cooked.
Heated stones, instead of ovens or pans or kettles, were their cooking
utensils. Sometimes, in moving about, the poles for the frame work of the
wigwam were moved also, for, before they had iron implements, with only
stone hatchets and rude copper knives the work of cutting or breaking the
bushes for use was no trifling labor. Inside the hut and under its sloping
sides were rude benches constructed of poles and brush, a little raised
from the ground, on which with skins of wild beasts, and with matting of
reeds and grass and bark and small twigs dextrously woven by the squaws,
they made beds.
Literally it was but a trifling matter when they wished to move to take
up their beds and walk. A small colony might plant themselves in the spring
by a stream where fish and muskrats abounded, and four months afterward
be many miles away, in the same huts, transported and made anew; the males
in their hunting grounds and many of the females by their little cornfields,
or where berries and nuts could be gathered. Some tribes, in villages,
built very large or rather very long wigwams, or houses, which would shelter
dozens of persons, or perhaps as many families. The wigwam of an old Ottawa
chief at Arbor Croche, in the beginning of the 19th century, was sixty
or seventy feet long; and some early explorers tell of seeing such habitations
three or four times that length in the Indian villages of the Iroquois,
Algonquins, and other tribes. These were often in shape like an arbor overarching
a garden walk. The frame work of the sides was formed of saplings set in
rows, with tops bent inward and lashed together.
On these were poles for ribs fastened horizontally by means of withes
or strips of bark. The outer covering was of sheets of bark, from any sort
of timber that they could peel, overlapping each other like shingles on
a roof; and to hold this in place other small poles were lashed outside,
with strips of bark from the basswood or elm. In this form of wigwam the
chimney was nearly a continuous opening, a foot or two wide, along the
entire length of the ridge, under which the fires were in a line on the
ground through the center. Usually each fire sufficed for two families,
who, in winter, slept closely packed about them. Poles were put up along
the inside toward the top, on which were suspended weapons, moccasins,
clothing, skins, ornaments, and dried meats. There, too, in harvest time,
the squaws hung the ears of corn to dry. Their way of garnering their corn
was to dry the ears by fire, then beat off the grain arid put it in sacks
of matting, which were in turn put into large cylinders - made of bark
and set deep in dry ground, where frequently they would leave it to remain
through the winter, for use the next summer, or when their supply of other
food should run short.
The Indians of this peninsula, before they were crowded away by the
white men, understood well the comfort of the regions about Grand and Little
Traverse Bays as summer resorts. Those of the big village at Arbor Croche
only staid there during the warm season. In the fall they were wont to
start for the south, hunting along shore or inland in winter, wherever
muskrats, beavers and other favorite game and furs could be found, camping
with their little wigwams in the Muskegon, Grand, Kalamazoo and other river
valleys, going even as far as Chicago and beyond; in the spring returning
to the north, to raise corn and enjoy the lake breezes.
At home, and while not at war with other tribes or the encroaching white
people, the Indians seem to have enjoyed the felicity of domestic peace.
Quarrels, murders, thefts and other crimes were rare among them. Indeed,
so far as may be judged from any reliable history, there was proportionately
much less of crime and immorality in domestic life among them than there
is in civilized society at the present day. They had their religions, their
superstitions, their gods of earth and air and water, and their many and
singular, but by no means uniform, beliefs in spirits and faiths in dreams.
By nature, in peace, they were neighborly and honorable. The savage would
scalp his enemy, but his childlike reliance upon the "Great Spirit" to
supply his physical wants left little room in his heart for a propensity
to wanton robbery or theft.
Probably the integrity and honor of the Indians has been overrated;
they were not universally honest, but they were more often persistent beggars
than thieves. And among their leaders and chiefs pride in fidelity to their
pledges or promises was a marked characteristic.
It is related that an Indian who became indebted to a white man desired
to give his note. A note was written, to which he affixed his mark, and
then he pocketed it, insisting that inasmuch as it was his note he was
the rightful holder. He carried it home, but when it became due appeared
promptly with the note and the money and paid his debt. The creditor was
Peter D. McNaughton, then of Caledonia, Kent county, a pioneer of 1838.
The Indians who lived here when the white men first entered are represented
to have been peacefully and amicably inclined, often aiding and succoring
the pioneers in time of need, providing game or fish, and exchanging courtesies
with them of various kinds in a neighborly and friendly spirit. If the
white man lost his horse, the Indian, keener of search or observation,
was generally sure to bring tidings of the missing animal. Deer were plenty,
and in most seasons the Indians not only supplied their own families with
meat, but often when a deer was slain presented their white neighbors with
choice pieces of venison. They also used muskrat and raccoon flesh for
food. They gathered wild berries and fruits in their season, and these,
as well as game, furs, dressed deerskins, and moccasins, they were wont
to "swap" for flour, salt, tobacco, ammunition, sugar, blankets, and such
other articles as they desired, not forgetting "fire water" if that was
obtainable, and seldom was it lacking. The French who came among them easily
adopted the use of some kinds of meats for which the Yankee settlers did
not so readily acquire a taste, the former being trained adepts in culinary
skill. When the pioneer Yankee family came down the river from Ionia, they
stopped and took dinner at the mouth of Flat River, with the family of
Dan Marsac. For a simple, frugal meal, so deep in the woods, it was bounteous,
but several girls of the voyaging party remembered for more than twenty
years, with merry jests and hearty laughter whenever the subject was mentioned,
their sportive discussion of the principal dish - muskrat soup. The Indians
are usually regarded as a vigorous, hardy and athletic race, in those respects
surpassing the civilized people who have supplanted them. But it is probably
true that the rule of "the survival of the fittest," rather than the universality
of natural vigor, has been mainly the foundation for such an opinion; the
naturally feeble among them having been cut down early in life by the vicissitudes
to which they were exposed, and only the stronger and more powerful left
to reach maturity in years.
INDIAN AGENTS.
The following persons have served as Indian agents in Michigan:
1836 - 43, H. R. Schoolcraft
1843 - 45, Robert Stuart
1845 - 51, W. A. Richmond
1851 - C. P. Babcock
1852 - 53, William Sprague
1853 - 58, H. C. Gilbert
1858 - 62, A. M. Fitch
1862 - 65, D. C. Leach
1865 - 69, R. M. Smith
1869 - 71, James W. Long
1871 - R. M. Smith
1871 - 76, George I. Betts
1876 - 81, G. W. Lee
1881 - 85, E. P. Allen
1885 - 89, Mark W. Stevens.
INDIAN POPULATION
In regard to the present Indian population of Michigan the census statistics
are far from satisfactory. It seems that until the census of 1880, the
nearest approaches to numbering them were by loose estimates or guesses.
In 1870 the statistics give but 4,926; whereas in 1880 the Indians were
reported as numbering 7,296, and in 1884 the number had decreased to 6,900.
The diminution occurs probably through their removal to western reservations,
rather than from natural causes.