by Allan Eckert
Gen. Wayne and his officers enjoyed the festivities, while at the same time keeping a close watch on everything to quell instantly any possibility of trouble. Soldiers were instructed to always be on guard but to refrain from offending the visitors in any way. Wayne himself was kept almost constantly busy meeting new delegations of tribesmen as they arrived or having further private discussions with the more important chiefs.
Day after day more delegates continued to arrive—each greeted personally by Gen. Wayne and both giving and receiving peace belts in solemn ceremony. Many of the arriving delegations brought American captives with them and turned them over to Gen. Wayne, most weeping with joy or almost hysterical with relief at being freed, others accepting the necessity of their return to white society only with the greatest reluctance. Many of the chiefs said they would turn over additional prisoners to Wayne as soon as they could conveniently do so.
Finally, in the middle of July—during the Heat Moon—the actual formal peace council began.
The Delawares, at this point, constituted the largest single Indian contingent present, numbering 381 individual delegates and led by Pimoacan, Buckangehela, Teteboxti, Wingenund and Peketelemund. The 240 Potawatomies present were represented by a large number of chiefs that included New Corn, Asimethe, Gizes, Topenebe, Five Medals, White Pigeon, Siggenauk, Chaubenee, Nescotnemeg and Gomo, among others. Representing the 180 Wyandots were Chiefs Tarhe and Stiahta, called Roundhead by the whites. There were 143 Shawnee delegates under Catahecassa, Chiuxca and Blue Jacket and 73 Miamis under Michikiniqua, which included 22 Eel River Miamis under Chief LeGris and a dozen other Weas and Piankeshaws under the leadership of Chief Reyntwoco. The 46 Chippewas on hand were under Chiefs Massas and Bad Bird and the 45 Ottawas attending were led by Chief Augooshaway. Only 10 Kickapoos and Kaskaskias had arrived under Chief Keeahah, while the Sacs and Foxes, though invited to attend, had refused. A final total of 91 chiefs attended, and the full number of Indian delegates was 771. Including the women, children, elderly and other nonattendees to the council, the total number of Indians on hand well exceeded 3,000.
The Indians were all impressed with how Wayne conducted himself and the treaty, allowing plenty of time for the ritual smoking of the calumets and then, when discussions began, allowing ample time for each matter to be interpreted, discussed and debated, moving slowly, methodically, having prepared himself well with strings and belts of wampum, which he displayed and distributed as his points were made.817 Once the Grand Council was begun—and with the concurrence of the various chiefs—Gen. Wayne distributed no further liquor to the Indians, to insure that all were soberly clear-minded as matters progressed.
Wayne had presented to each of the principal chiefs in attendance a large brass medallion, on one side of which was a raised profile of George Washington and the other side exhibiting a white and an Indian shaking hands. The medallions were strung on loops of brass chain or brightly colored ribbons, to be worn about the neck if the owner chose, as most did.
Blue Jacket, Chaubenee and Sauganash, along with numerous other chiefs, had all personally met the general’s principal aide-de-camp, William Henry Harrison, and were impressed with him. The only incident of a troubling nature occurred early on when a British agent, John Askin, Jr., clad as an Indian, was discovered attempting to subvert the Indians and get them to insist on their sovereignty. William Wells reported this to Wayne, who immediately had the man arrested and confined until after the treaty was signed, certified and distributed.
There were points of considerable argument, of course; the greatest initial difficulty occurring with the Potawatomies. By their form of tribal politics, there was virtually no real central government, and each of the tribe’s branches—and even many individual villages—acted autonomously. As a result, the chiefs of each branch or even individual village chiefs demanded separate negotiations, which in most cases was not feasible. The 240 Potawatomi delegates in attendance mainly represented those factions along the St. Joseph, Tippecanoe, Elkhart and Huron rivers and, with the exception of Siggenauk from the Milwakee villages, Nescotnemeg on the Kankakee River, Chaubenee and Gomo on the upper and middle Illinois River, most of the western factions were largely unrepresented.818
More Indian delegates continued straggling in even after the preliminaries had begun, and in all cases Wayne carefully went over with them what had already been discussed so they were well apprised of all things.819 At last, however, all the Indians had arrived who were going to come—a total of 1,100 chiefs and delegates representing 12 tribes of the Northwest Territory.
Virtually without exception, the various chiefs were extremely impressed with Gen. Wayne, considering him to be the best treaty commissioner any of them had ever encountered. He was at all times gentle with the Indians in attendance, treating them with courteous firmness. He did not, as they had expected him to do, start out by reiterating the claim that the United States were the absolute owners of all the territory east of the Mississippi, in consequence of the 1783 Treaty of Paris.820 Instead, he stated to the tribes that they were to have free and exclusive use of all lands not specifically ceded by them to the United States. At the same time, he told them that in their signing of the treaty the tribes were acknowledging they were under the sole protection of the United States, and the United States alone had exclusive right to preempt such land in subsequent treaties. He assured them as well that by the terms of the treaty, if any white man should unjustly kill an Indian, that man should be apprehended by the whites and turned over to the Indians for punishment, and vice versa. Since always before the whites had claimed the right to punish both Indians and whites—usually the former and rarely the latter—for such infractions, the chiefs were very impressed with this provision.821
The cession of Indian lands to the United States was the crux of the entire treaty. In trade for land, the Indians in effect purchased peace and annuities—a peace that, they now felt assured, for the first time, would be lasting—and they also, in effect, purchased the right to their own territory within the new boundaries; a right they felt assured at last would never be infringed upon.
Gen. Wayne went on to tell them that this new treaty being made at Greenville was to be based, in large measure—with some revisions, which were to be explained—on the boundary lines established by the Fort McIntosh Treaty on January 21, 1785. The biggest single land cession involved the Ohio Territory. Although the Indians would retain hunting and fishing privileges throughout the entire Ohio area, a definite dividing line between Indian and white territories was established in this treaty. Wayne read it carefully to them, explaining in detail so they would understand its significance:
“The general boundary line between the lands of the United States and the lands of the said Indian tribes shall begin at the mouth of the Cuyahoga River and run thence up the same to the Portage between that and the Tuscarawas branch of the Muskingum, thence down that branch to the crossing place above Fort Laurens, thence westerly to a fork of the branch of the Great Miami River running into the Ohio, at or near which stood Loramie’s Store and where commenced the Portage between the Miami of the Ohio and St. Mary’s River, which is a branch of the Miami which runs into Lake Erie; thence a westerly course to Fort Recovery, which stands on a branch of the Wabash; thence southerly in a direct line to the Ohio, so as to intersect that river opposite the mouth of the Kentucky or Cuttawa River.”822
In addition, Gen. Wayne told them, the United States would require the cession of 16 tracts of land within the Indian territory for government reservations.823 Each of the tracts, Wayne explained carefully, was considered important in the extreme to the United States, not only for the opening of trade by Americans to the Indians of those areas, but equally for the establishment of forts within the Indian territory from which to regulate the trade and, very important for the Indians themselves, from which to distribute annuities to the tribes so they would not have to travel so far from their homelands each year to receive the paym
ents due them.824 At this point some of the chiefs raised objections, seeing such a penetration of their country by the Americans as only a first step to what would be subsequent American expansion in those areas and renewal of land disputes that could ultimately lead to a new war. Not enough of the chiefs felt this way, however, and it was only too clear to all in attendance—Indians and whites alike—that the Indians were tired of war, tired of disputed boundaries, tired of being caught in the pincers of two opposing white powers. And so the majority prevailed, and the land cessions were agreed to, in the belief that now they could hunt and fish in peace, enjoy a peaceful trade, and raise their crops and families in peace.825
With all negotiating finally finished yesterday, the 91 various chiefs made their individual marks on the treaty. Michikiniqua was final chief to sign the historic document. Before doing so, he met Gen. Wayne’s gaze and spoke solemnly.
“As I am last of the chiefs to sign this peace with the Americans,” he said, “so also will I be last to break the agreement.”
Gen. Anthony Wayne had then formally signed the treaty, along with some of his officers and the official governmental witnesses. Throughout the night a scribe worked feverishly to reproduce an exact copy of the document and, in a final ceremony today, the signed treaties were checked by Indians and whites together for accuracy. Now Chief Tarhe of the Wyandots—the respected “grandfathers” of the other northwestern tribes—was given custodianship of the official transcript on behalf of the assembled tribes. It was a very solemn and moving moment, and an absolute silence reigned over the assemblage as the Indians listened closely to Gen. Wayne’s concluding remark.
“I now fervently pray to the Great Spirit,” he said, his voice carrying well to all, “that the peace now established may be permanent and that it now holds us together in the bonds of friendship until time shall be no more. I also pray that the Great Spirit above may enlighten your minds and open your eyes to your true happiness, that your children may learn to cultivate the earth and enjoy the fruits of peace and industry.”826
[September 22, 1795—Tuesday]
The delegation of Indians who visited the 27-year-old Tecumseh today in his temporary village on the headwaters of Deer Creek was led by none other than Blue Jacket himself.827 That the war chief of the Shawnees should pay a special visit to Tecumseh was a very real honor that underlined the level of prestige to which Tecumseh had now risen among the Indians, even though within his own tribe the chiefs still viewed him as merely a warrior.
Arriving with Blue Jacket this morning was a contingent of chiefs and warriors, all of whom were personal friends of Tecumseh, including Chiuxca, principal chief of the Peckuwe sept of the Shawnees, the burly, barrel-shaped Chaubenee, who was a Potawatomi chief, Tecumseh’s own nephew Spemica Lawba, who was the son of his older sister, Tecumapese, and a bright 17-year-old half-breed Potawatomi named Sauganash, whom the English called Billy Caldwell.828
All were only too well aware that Tecumseh, who over the years had risen to become perhaps the foremost warrior among all the Shawnees, had voluntarily separated from the tribe in a dispute with the tribe’s principal chief, Catahecassa—Black Hoof—prior to the great peace council with Gen. Wayne at Greenville. In council after council after the Battle of Fallen Timbers, as the Shawnees had discussed what they should do, Tecumseh had consistently argued against making any sort of peace treaty with the Americans. Catahecassa had just as doggedly maintained that it was his wish and demand that the other chiefs support him in making peace, on behalf of the entire tribe, with Gen. Wayne. Tempers had become short and the discussions very heated as Tecumseh, in the final Shawnee council last March, had declared he would never make peace with the treacherous whites and shocked those attending the councils when he openly berated Catahecassa for his willingness to do so. A number of chiefs and warriors indicated their support of Tecumseh in this matter, but the odds were against him; not only had Catahecassa been peaceably inclined all along, the disaster at Fallen Timbers had caused by far the greater majority of Shawnees to side with him.
“I cannot lend my support to such a decision!” Tecumseh had said in his concluding heated exchange with Catahecassa. “Whether or not you can see it, or will believe it, I tell you there is no doubt that the Americans continue to want—and will continue to take!—Shawnee lands and the lands of other tribes so long as they remain to be taken. I will not attend the treaty General Wayne has called. I will never make peace with the Americans. This is the land of our fathers, the land where their bones are buried and whose graves we should defend to our last breaths. That is what I intend to do.”
“No, Tecumseh,” Catahecassa had replied angrily, “you must not! You cannot, since the Shawnee council has now made its decision and you are bound by the decisions of this council. If you continue to make war against the whites, they will hold us responsible as a tribe and cause further trouble for us all.”
Tecumseh had shaken his head, and his words had emerged as brittle and cold as chunks of ice. “If I cannot, as a Shawnee, protect the lands I love, the lands so many of our people have fought and died for, then I will do so on my own. I, and any of those who are of like mind with me, cannot stay here, which would mean that we agree and support such a decision, which we do not. We will go away from here and make our own village apart from you, and we will wait and see what shall occur. If, in fact, Catahecassa, you and the other Shawnee chiefs put your names to such a treaty of peace with the Americans, we will then forever sever ourselves from the tribe.”
The assemblage had gasped at his declaration, and an angry murmuring arose. Blue Jacket was one of the chiefs who came to his feet and asked him to reconsider, but Tecumseh had remained adamant and replied, “You are my friend, Blue Jacket. You will always be so. But this is a matter that goes beyond friendships. Catahecassa and the other chiefs are wrong in their decision to make peace next summer with the Americans, and if you agree with him and them, then you, too, Blue Jacket, are wrong, and it is a decision you and they will live to regret.”
Catahecassa’s decision remained, however, and Blue Jacket had supported him. Immediately following that final council, Tecumseh had packed up his meager goods and left to establish his own village on the Deer Creek headwaters. With him had gone his brother-in-law, Wasegoboah, and his wife, Tecumseh’s sister, Tecumapese. Tecumseh’s two surviving brothers, Kumskaka and Lowawluwaysica, had gone with him, too, and a number of others who supported his beliefs and were disenchanted with Shawnee tribal leadership under Catahecassa.829
Now, not having seen any of these old friends since that final Shawnee council in March, Tecumseh was overjoyed to see them and warmly embraced them all. Wasegoboah and Tecumapese soon joined them, laden with pots and dishes heaped with good food, and Tecumseh’s brothers, Kumskaka and Lowawluwaysica, arrived a few minutes later. All ate heartily at Tecumseh’s table, smoked their pipes and spent an hour or so in pleasant reminiscences and in sharing news of less than monumental significance, saving the most important matter of discussion—the Greenville Treaty—for last.
Finally, well into the night and with all other matters laid to rest except the treaty, Blue Jacket took over and spoke steadily for a long while, relating all that had occurred at Greenville. When he finished there was a long silence, and Blue Jacket gratefully accepted the pipe handed to him by Sauganash and drew on the stem. Then, blowing out a puff of blue-white smoke, he spoke to Tecumseh with great seriousness.
“Your refusal to attend the Greenville Treaty, my friend, caused a reaction that may surprise you. Those who attended—many of them—felt coerced to come and appeared there begrudgingly, but because of the strength of General Wayne and fearing his wrath if they did not attend, they came. But what they talked about a great deal before the true negotiations began was that you, Tecumseh, had shown the courage to stay away; that you had stated you would never make peace with the whites. They see in you that piece of themselves that they had hidden away. Many of them, especially
the younger chiefs and warriors, are greatly impressed with you and that you even had courage enough to temporarily pull away from your own tribe to support your view. They see you now as a champion of the rights of the Indian and one who refuses to bend under the ill wind from the whites. They see you, Tecumseh, as the one, among all, who holds true to the Indian standard of self-esteem and dignity, and you have suddenly risen greatly in prestige in their hearts and minds. Only a few were upset at your stand, most of all Chief Catahecassa, who feels you have personally insulted him.”
Tecumseh’s expression was grim when he replied. “I am sorry he feels that way, since an insult to him was not intended. I stated only that I could not make peace with the whites and could not live with those who did. What I had feared would happen, has happened: We have entirely lost, by the terms of the treaty, practically all in Ohio that was our own. Even the land of this little village where we now sit has been signed away, and we no longer have any right to be here.”
The bitterness in his voice became heavier as he went on. “My people and I will remain here until we have completed the harvest we have already begun of our corn and vegetables. Then we will move away.”
“But to where, Uncle?” interjected Spemica Lawba. “Catahecassa cannot allow you to return to our villages now. He says this would raise ill feelings and dissension among our people.”