 CHAPTER 6 The Relief of Fort Pitt On the tongue of land at the confluence of the Manangahila and Allegheny rivers stood Fort Pitt on the site of the old French fort Duquesne. It was remote from any center of population, but was favorably situated for defense and so strongly garrisoned that those in charge of it had little to fear from any attempts of the Indians to capture it. Floods had recently destroyed part of the ramparts, but these had been repaired in a parapet of logs raised above them. Captain Simeon Ikuyer, a Swiss soldier in the service of Great Britain, and an officer of keen intelligence and tried courage, was in charge of Fort Pitt. He knew the Indians. He had quickly realized that danger threatened his wilderness post and had left nothing undone to make it secure. On the fourth day of May Ikuyer had written to Colonel Henry Bouquet, who was stationed at Philadelphia, saying that he had received word from Gladwin that he was surrounded by rascals. Ikuyer did not treat this alarm lightly. He not only repaired the ramparts and made them stronger, but also erected palisades within them to surround the dwellings. Everything near the fort that could give shelter to a lurking foe was leveled to the ground. There were in Fort Pitt at this time about a hundred women and their children, families of settlers who had come to the fertile Ohio Valley to take up homes. These were provided with shelter in houses made shot-proof. Smallpox had broken out in the garrison, and a hospital was prepared under the drawbridge where the patients in time of siege would be in no danger from musketballs or arrows. But the best defense of Fort Pitt was the capacity of Ikuyer, brave, humorous, foresighted, a host in himself, giving courage to his men and making even the women and children think lightly of the power of the Indians. It was nearly three weeks after the siege of Detroit had begun that the savages appeared in force about Fort Pitt. On May 27 a large band of Indians came down the Allegheny bearing packets of furs in payment for which they demanded guns, knives, tomahawks, powder, and shot, and would take nothing else. Soon after their departure word was brought to Ikuyer of the murder of some traders and settlers not far from the fort. From that time until the beginning of August it was hazardous for anyone to venture outside the walls, but for nearly a month no attack was to be made on the fort itself. However, as news of the capture of the other forts reached the garrison, and as nearly all the messengers sent to the east were either slain or forced to return, it was evident that, in delaying the attack on Fort Pitt, the Indians were merely gathering strength for a supreme effort against the strongest position in the Indian territory. On June 22 a large body of Indians assembled in the forest about the fort, and, creeping stealthily within range of its walls, opened fire from every side. It was the garrison's first experience of attack. Some of the soldiers proved a trifle overbold, and two of them were killed. The firing, however, lasted but a short time. Ikuyer selected a spot where the smoke of the muskets was thickest, and threw shells from his hoeitzers into the midst of the warriors, scattering them in hurried flight. On the following day a party came within speaking distance, and their leader, Turtles Hart, a Delaware chief, informed Ikuyer that all the western and northern forts had been cut off and that a host of warriors were coming to destroy Fort Pitt and its garrison. He begged Ikuyer to withdraw the inmates of the fort while there was yet time. He would see to it that they were protected on their way to the eastern settlements. He added that when the Ottawa's and their allies arrived, all hope for the lives of the inhabitants of Fort Pitt would be at an end. All this Turtles Hart told Ikuyer out of love for the British. The British officer, with fine humor, thanked him for his consideration for the garrison, and told him that he could hold out against all the Indians in the woods. He could be as generous as Turtles Hart, and so warned him that the British were coming to relieve Fort Pitt with six thousand men, that an army of three thousand was ascending the Great Lakes to punish the Ottawa Confederacy, and that still another force of three thousand had gone to the frontiers of Virginia. Therefore, he said, take pity on your women and children, and get out of the way as soon as possible. We have told you this in confidence, out of our great solicitude, lest any of you should be hurt, and, he added, we hope that you will not tell the other Indians, lest they should escape from our vengeance. The Hoitzers and the story of the approaching hosts had their effect, and the Indians vanished into the surrounding forest. For another month Fort Pitt had comparative peace, and the garrison patiently but watchfully waited a relieving force which Amherst was sending. In the meantime news came of the destruction of Preskeel, Labouf, and Venango, and the fate of the garrisons, particularly at the last post, warned the inhabitants of Fort Pitt what they might expect if they should fall into the hands of the Indians. On July 26, some Indian ambassadors, among them Turtles Hart, came to the post with a flag of truce. They were loud in their protestations of friendship, and once more solicitous for the safety of the garrison. The Ottawa's, they said, were coming in a vast horde to seize and eat up everything that came in their way. The garrison's only hope of escape would be to vacate the Fort speedily and go home to their wives and children. The Cuyir replied that he would never abandon his position as long as a white man lives in America. He despised the Ottawa's, he said, and was very much surprised at our brothers the Delaware's for proposing to us to leave this place and go home. This is our home. His humor was once more in evidence in the warning he gave the Indians against repeating their attack on the Fort. I will throw bombshells which will burst and blow you to atoms and fire cannon among you, loaded with a whole bag full of bullets. Therefore take care for I don't want to hurt you. The Indians now gave up all hope of capturing Fort Pitt by deception and prepared to take it by assault. At very night they stole within range dug shelter pits in the banks of the Allegheny and Monongahela, and at daybreak began a vigorous attack on the garrison. Musket balls came whistling over the ramparts and smote every point where a soldier showed himself. The shrieking balls and the wild war whoops of the assailants greatly alarmed the women and children, but never for a moment was the Fort in real danger or did a Cuyir or his men fear disaster. So carefully had the commandant seen to his defenses that, although hundreds of missiles fell within the confines of the Fort, only one man was killed and only seven were wounded. The Cuyir himself was among the wounded, one of two arrows that fell within the Fort had, to use his own words, the insolence to make free with his left leg. From July 27 to August 1, this horde of Delaware's, Johnys, Wyandots, and Mingos kept up the attack. Then without apparent cause, as suddenly as they had arrived, they all disappeared. To the garrison the relief from constant vigil, anxious days, and sleepless nights was most welcome. The reason for this sudden relief was that the Red Men had learned of a rich prize for them, now approaching Fort Pit. Bokeh, with a party of soldiers, was among the defiles of the Alleghenys. The Fort could wait. The Indians would endeavor to annihilate Bokeh's force as they had annihilated Braddock's army in the same region eight years before, and if successful, they would then, at their leisure, return to Fort Pit and starve it out, or take it by assault. In June, when Amherst had finally come to the conclusion that he had a real war on his hands, and had, as we have seen, dispatched Dahliel to Detroit, he had, at the same time, sent orders to Colonel Bokeh to get ready a force for the relief of Fort Pit. Bokeh, like a Cuyer, was a Swiss soldier, and the best man in America for this particular task. After seven years' experience in border warfare, he was as skilled in woodcraft as the Indians themselves. He had now to lead a force over the road two hundred odd miles long, which connected Fort Pit with Carlisle, his point of departure in Pennsylvania, but every foot of the road was known to him. In 1758, when serving under General Forbes, he had directed the construction of this road, and knew the strength of every fort and blockhouse on the way. Even the rivers and creeks and morasses and defiles were familiar to him. Best of all, he had a courage and a military knowledge that inspired confidence in his men and officers. Cool, calculating, foreseeing, dauntlessly brave. There was not in the New World at this time a better soldier than this heroic Swiss. Amherst was in a bad way for troops. The only available forces for the relief of Fort Pit were 242 men of the 42nd Highlanders, the famous Black Watch, with 133 of the 77th Montgomery Highlanders, and some Royal Americans. These, with a few volunteers, made up a contingent 550 strong. It was a force all too small for the task before it, and the majority of the soldiers had but recently arrived from the West Indies and were in wretched health. Bokeh had sent instructions to Carlisle to have supplies ready for him, and sufficient wagons assembled there for the expedition, but when he reached the place at the end of June, he found that nothing had been done. The frontier was in a state of paralysis from panic. Over the entire stretch of country from Fort Pit, the Indians were on the warpath. Every day brought tragic stories of the murder of settlers and the destruction of their homes. There was no safety outside the precincts of the feeble forts that dotted the Indian territory. Bokeh had hoped for help from the settlers and government of Pennsylvania, but the settlers thought only of immediate safety, and the government was criminally negligent in leaving the frontier of the state unprotected and would vote neither men nor money for defense. But they must be saved in spite of themselves. By energetic efforts, in eighteen days after his arrival at Carlisle, Bokeh was ready for the march. He began his campaign with a wise precaution. The last important fort on the road to Pit was Ligonier, about one hundred and fifty miles from Carlisle. It would be necessary to use this post as a base, but it was beset by Indians and in danger of being captured. Lieutenant Archibald Blaine, in charge of it, was making a violent defense against the horde of savages. Bokeh, while waiting at Carlisle, engaged guides and sent in advance thirty Highlanders, carefully selected men, to strengthen the garrison under Blaine. These, by keeping off the main trail and using every precaution, succeeded in reaching the fort without mishap. Bokeh led his force westward. Sixty of his soldiers were so ill that they were unable to march and had to be carried in wagons. It was intended that the sick should take the place of the men now in Fort Bedford and Ligonier and thus help to guard the rear. The road was found to be in frightful condition. The spring freshets had cut it up, deep gullies crossed the path, and the bridges over the streams had been in most cases washed away. As the little army advanced, panic-stricken settlers by the way told stories of the destruction of homes and the slaughter of friends. Fort Bedford, where Captain Louis Ory was in command, was reached on the twenty-fifth. Here three days were spent, and thirty more guides were secured to serve as an advanced guard of scouts and give warning of the presence of enemies. Bokeh had tried his Highlanders at this work, but they were unfamiliar with the forest, and as they invariably got lost were of no value with scouts. Leaving his invalided officers and men at Bedford, Bokeh, with horses rested and men refreshed, pressed forward and arrived at Ligonier on August 2. Preparations had now to be made for the final dash to Fort Pitt, fifty odd miles away, over a path that was beset by savages who also occupied all the important passes. It would be impossible to get through without a battle, a wilderness battle, and the thought of the Braddock disaster was in the minds of all. But Bokeh was not a Braddock, and he was experienced in Indian warfare. To attempt to pass ambuscades with a long train of cumbersome wagons would be to invite disaster, so he discarded his wagons and heavier stores, and having made ready three hundred and forty pack horses loaded with flour, he decided to set out from Ligonier on the 4th of August. It was planned to reach Bushy Creek, Bushy Run as Bokeh called it, on the following day, and there rest and refresh horses and men. In the night a dash would be made through the dangerous defile at Turtle Creek, and if the high broken country at this point could be passed without mishap, the rest of the way could be easily won. At daylight the troops were up and off. It was an oppressively hot August morning, and no breath of wind stirred in the forest. Over the rough road trudged the long line of sweltering men. In advance were the scouts, then followed several light companies of the Black Watch, then the main body of the Little Army, and in the rear came the toiling pack horses. Until noon the soldiers marched, panting and tortured by mosquitoes, but buoyed by the hope that at Bushy Run they would be able to quench their burning thirst and rest until nightfall. By one o'clock in the afternoon they had covered seventeen miles and were within a mile and a half of their objective point. Suddenly in their front they heard the sharp reports of muskets. The firing grew in intensity. The advance guard was evidently in contact with a considerable body of Indians. Two light companies rushed forward to their support, and with fixed bayonets cleared the path. This however was but a temporary success. The Indians merely changed their position and appeared on the flanks in increased numbers. From the shelter of trees the foe were creating havoc among the exposed troops, and a general charge was necessary. Highlanders and royal Americans, acting under the directing eye of Bokeh, again drove the Indians back with the bayonet. Scarcely had this been accomplished when a fuselad was heard in the rear. The convoy was attacked, and it was necessary to fall back to its support. Until nightfall, around a bit of elevated ground, called Edge Hill by Bokeh, on which the convoy was drawn up, the battle was waged. About the packhorses and stores the soldiers valiantly fought for seven hours against their invisible foe. At length darkness fell, and the exhausted troops could take stock of their losses and snatch a brief broken rest. In this day of battle two officers were killed and four wounded, and sixty of the rank and file were killed or wounded. Flower bags were piled in a circle, and within this the wounded were placed. Throughout the night a careful watch was kept, but the enemy made no attack during the darkness, merely firing an occasional shot and from time to time uttering defiant yells. They were confident that Bokeh's force would be an easy prey, and waited for daylight to renew the battle. The soldiers had played a heroic part. Though unused to forest warfare, they had been cool as veterans in Indian fighting, and not a man had fired a shot without orders. But the bravest of them looked to the morning with dread. They had barely been able to hold their own on this day, and by morning the Indians would undoubtedly be greatly strengthened. The cries and moans of the wounded vividly reminded them of what had already happened. Besides they were worn out with marching and fighting. Worse than physical fatigue and more trying than the enemy's bullets was torturing thirst, and not a drop of water could be obtained at the place where they were hemmed in. By the flickering light of a candle Bokeh penned one of them noblest letters ever written by a soldier in time of battle. He could hardly hope for success, and defeat meant the most horrible of deaths. But he had no craven spirit, and his report to Amherst was that of a true soldier. A man whose business it is to die. After giving a detailed account of the occurrences leading up to this attack and a calm statement of the events of the day, and paying a tribute to his officers, whose conduct he said, is much above my praise, he added, Whatever our fate may be, I thought it necessary to give your Excellency this information. I fear insurmountable difficulties in protecting and transporting our provisions, being already so much weakened by the loss of this day of men and horses. Sending a messenger back with this dispatch, he set himself to plan for the morrow. At daybreak from the surrounding wood, the terrifying war cries of the Indians fell on the ears of the troops. Slowly the shrill yells came nearer. The Indians were endeavoring to strike terror into the hearts of their foes before renewing the fight, knowing that troops in dread of death are already half beaten. Then within five hundred yards of the center of the camp the Indians began firing. The troops replied with great steadiness. This continued until ten in the morning. The wounded within the barricade lay listening to the sounds of battle, ever increasing in volume, and the fate of Braddock's men rose before them. It seemed certain that their sufferings must end in death, and what a death! The packhorses, tethered at a little distance from the barricade, offered an easy target against which the Indians soon directed their fire, and the piteous cries of the wounded animals added to the tumult of the battle. Some of the horses, maddened by wounds, broke their fastenings and galloped into the forest. But the kilted Highlanders and the red-coated royal Americans gallantly fought on. Their ranks were being thinned. The fatiguing work of the previous day was telling on them. Their throats were parched and their tongues swollen for want of water. Bouquet surveyed the field. He saw his men weakening under the terrible strain and realized that something must be done promptly. The Indians were each moment becoming bolder, pressing ever nearer and nearer. Then he conceived one of the most brilliant movements known in Indian warfare. He ordered two companies, which were in the most exposed part of the field, to fall back as though retreating within the circle that defended the hill. At the same time the troops on the right and left opened their files, and, as if to cover the retreat, occupied the space vacated in a thinly extended line. The strategy worked even better than Bouquet had expected. The yelling Indians, eager for slaughter and believing that the entire command was at their mercy, rushed pel-mel from their shelter, firing sharp volleys into the protecting files. These were forced back, and the savages dashed forward for the barricade which sheltered the wounded. Meanwhile, the two companies had taken position on the right, and from a sheltering hill that concealed them from the enemy, they poured an effective fire into the savages. The astonished Indians replied, but with little effect, and before they could reload the Highlanders were on them with the bayonet. The red men then saw that they had fallen into a trap and turned to flee. But suddenly, on their left, two more companies rose from ambush and sent a storm of bullets into the retreating savages, while the Highlanders and royal Americans dashed after them with fixed bayonets. The Indians, at other parts of the circle, seeing their comrades in flight, scattered into the forest. The defiant war cries ceased, and the muskets were silent. The victory was complete. Bouquet had beaten the Indians in their own woods and at their own game. About sixty of the enemy lay dead and as many more wounded. In the two days of battle the British had fifty killed, sixty wounded, and five missing. It was a heavy price, but this victory broke the back of the Indian war. Many horses had been killed or had strayed away, and it was impossible to transport all the stores to Fort Pitt. What could not be carried with the force was destroyed, and the victors moved on to Bushy Cree at a slow pace on account of the wounded. No sooner had they pitched their tents at the Cree than some of the enemy again appeared. The Highlanders, however, without waiting for the word of command, scattered them with the bayonet. On the following day the march began for Fort Pitt. Three days later, on August 10, the garrison of that fort heard the scurril of the bagpipes and the beat of the drum, and saw through the forest the plaids and plumes of the Highlanders and the red coats of the Royal Americans. The gate was thrown open, and the victors of Edge Hill marched in to the welcome of the men and women who for several months had had no news from their friends in the east. Bouquet had been instructed to invade the Ohio country and teach the Shawnees and Delaware's a lesson. But his men were worn out, half of them were unfit for service, and so deficient was he in horses and supplies that this task had to be abandoned for the present year. Pennsylvania and Virginia rejoiced. This triumph meant much to them. Their borders would now be safe but for occasional scalping parties. Amherst was delighted and took to himself much of the credit of Bouquet's victory. He congratulated the noble Swiss officer on his victory over a band of savages that would have been very formidable against any troop but such as you had with you. But it was not the troops that won the battle, it was Bouquet. In the hands of a Braddock, a Ludone, and Abercrombie, these war-worn veterans would have met a fate such as befell Braddock's troops. But Bouquet animated every man with his own spirit. He knew how to fight Indians, and at the critical moment, the fatal five minutes between victory and defeat, he proved himself the equal of any soldier who ever battled against the red men in North America. A chronicle of the Pontiac War by Thomas Guthrie Marquis, chapter 7. While Fort Pitt was holding out against the Ohio Indians, and Bouquet was forcing his way through the defiles of the Alleghenes to his belief, Fort Detroit was still in a state of siege. The defeat of Dowell's force at Buddy Run had given the Indians greater degree of confidence. They had not dared, however, to make a general assault, but had merely kept the garrison aware of their presence by desultory and irritating attacks. Nothing of importance took place until September 3rd. On this day, the little Gwenwin, which had gone to the Niagara with dispatchers, entered the Detroit River on her return trip. She was in charge of Captain Horst, who was assisted by Jacobs and Mait and a crew of ten men. There were likewise on board six Aeroquois Indians. It was a calm morning and as the vessel lay with idly frapping sails waiting for wind, the Aeroquois asked permission to stretch the limbs on shore. Horst foolishly granted their request and as soon as they had made a landing, they disappeared into the forest and no doubt hurry to pointy ex-warriors to let them know how weakly manned was the schooner. The weather continued calm and by nightfall the Gwenwin was still nine miles below the fort. As darkness fell on that moonless night, the captain, alarmed at the flight of the Aeroquois, posted a careful guard and had his cannon at bow and stern made ready to resist attack. So dark was the night that it was impossible to discern objects at any distance. Along the back shore Indians were gathering and soon a fleet of canoes containing over 300 warriors was slowly and silently moving towards the Bekaum Gwenwin. So noiseless was their approach that they were within a few yards of the vessel before a watchful century the boatsman discerned them. At his warning cry, the crew left to their quarters. The bow gun thundered out and its fresh gave the little band on the boat a momentary glimpse of a horde of painted enemies. There was no time to reload the gun. The canoes were all about the schooner and yelling warriors were clambering over the stern and bow and swarming on the deck. The crew discharged the muskets into the savages and then seized spears and hatches and rushed madly at them striking and stabbing determined at least to sell the lies dearly. For a moment the Indians in the black darkness shrank back from the fierce attack but already horse was killed and several of the crew were down with mortal wounds. The vessel seemed lost when Jacobs a daredevil seaman now in command ordered his men to blow up the vessel. Hawaiian thought brave with some knowledge of anguish caught the words and shouted warning to his comrades. In an instant every warrior was over the size of the vessel pattering or swimming to get to safety. When morning broke not an Indian was to be seen and the little graduate sailed in triumph to Fort Detroit. So greatly was the gallantry of her crew appreciated that Amherst had a special medal struck and given to each of the survivors. Meanwhile at Niagara supplies were being conveyed over the portage between the lower landing now Newiston and Fort Sloser in readiness for transport to the western posts. The Seneca's claimed the territory about Niagara and the invasion of their land had greatly irritated them. They particularly resented the act of certain squatters who without their consent had settled along the Niagara portage. Fort Niagara was too strong to be taken by assault but the Seneca's hoped by bidding the time to strike the deadly blow against the parties conveying goods over the portage. The opportunity came on September 14th. On this day a sergeant and 28 men were engaged in escorting down to the landing a wagon train and bank horses which had gone up to Fort Sloser the day before loaded with supplies. The journey up the river had been successfully made and the party were returning on their guard and without the slightest thought of danger but their every movement had been watched by Indian scouts and at the devil's hole a short distance below the falls 500 warriors lay in ambush. Slowly the returning provisioned train wound its way along the bank of the Niagara on the right were high cliffs thickly wooded on the left are precipice threaded by the furious river. In the years of the soldiers and drivers sounded the thunderous roar of the mighty cataract. As men and horses threaded their way past the devil's holes salvage yells birds from the thick wood on their right and simultaneously fulsillate from a hundred muskets. The terrified horses sprang over the cliffs dragging wagons and drivers with them. When the smoke cleared and the salvagers rushed forward not the living member of the escort nor a driver was to be seen. The leader of the escort Philip Statman had grabbed the critical character of the situation at the first outcry and putting spurs to his horse had dashed into the bushes. A warrior had seized his reign but Statman had struck him down and galloped free for a post looser. A drummer boy interior of his life had left over the cliff by good fortune his drum strap caught under a branch of a dense tree. Here he remained suspended until the Indians left the sport when he extricated himself. One of the teamsters also escaped. He was wounded but managed to roll into the bushes and found concealment in the thick undergrowth. The terrific musket tree fire was heard at the lower landing where a body of troops of the 60th and 80th regiments were encamped. The soldiers hastily armed themselves and in great disorder rushed to the aid of the convoy but the Indians were not now at the devil's hole. The murderous work completed there. They had taken up a position in the thick wood half a mile further down where they silently waited. They had chosen well their place of concealment and the soldiers in the excitement walked into the trap set for them. Suddenly the ominous wall cries broke out and before the troops could turn to face the fall a storm of bullets had swept the left flank. Then the warriors dashed from their ambush tomahawk gang the living and scalping both dead and dying. In a few minutes five officers and 76 of the rank and file were killed and eight wounded and out of the force of over 100 men only 20 escaped unhurt. The news of the second disaster brought major Wilkins up from Fort Niagara with every available man to chastise the Indians. But when Wilkins and his men arrived at the gruesome scene of the massacre not a red man was to be found. The Indians had disappeared into the forest after having stripped the victims even of clothing but by heavy heart the troops marched back to Niagara mourning the loss of many gallant comrades. This was the greatest disaster in loss of life of the Pontiac War but like the defeat of Dow Yeo it had little effect on the progress of the campaign. Indians did not follow it up with scouts and plunder they returned to their villages to exalt in wild orgies over the victory. Detroit was still besieged but the Indians were beginning to weaken and for the most part had given up hope of forcing the garrison to surrender. They had been depending almost wholly on the settlement for substance and provisions were running low. Ammunition too was well not exhausted they had replenished their supply during the summer by the captures they had made by the plundering of traders and by purchase of gift from the French of the Mississippi. Now they had little hope of capturing more supply boats. The traders were holding aloof and since the arrival of definite news of the surrender to Great Britain by France of the region east of the Mississippi supplies from the French had been stopped. If the Indians were to escape starvation they must scatter to their hunting grounds. There was another reason why many of the chiefs deemed it wise to leave the vicinity of Detroit. They had learned that Major Wilkins was on his way from Niagara with a strong force and a fridge of cattle loaded with ammunition and supplies. So early in October the Potawatomis Wyandots and Chippewas held a council and concluded to bury the hatchet and make peace with Gladwin. On the 12th of the month a delegation from these tribes came to the fort bearing a pipe of peace. Gladwin knew from experience how little they were to be trusted but he gave them a seemingly official welcome. A chief named Vepicon Mugov acted as spokesman and stated that the tribes represented regretted their bad conduct and were ready to enter into a treaty of peace. Gladwin replied that it was not in his power to grant peace to Indians who without course had attacked the troops of their father the king of England. Only the commander in chief could do that but he consented to a cessation of hostilities. He did this the more willingly as the fort was short of food and the troops would give him a chance to lay in a fresh stock of provisions. As the autumn frost were coloring the maples with brilliant hues the Potawatomis, Wyandots and Chippewas set out for fields where game was plentiful but for a time Pontiac with the order was remain threatening the garrison and still strong in his determination to continue the siege. During the summer he had sent ambassadors to fort charters on the Mississippi asking aid in fighting what he asserted to be the battle of the French traders. Towards the end of July the messenger had returned with word from Leon de Villiers the commander of Fort Charter saying that he must await more definite news as the weather peace had been concluded between France and England. Pontiac still hoped and after his allies had deserted he waited at his camp above Detroit for further word from Neon. On the last day of October Louis Sassard de Kendra arrived at Detroit from Fort Charter with the crushing answer that Neon de Villiers could give him no aid. England and France were at peace and Leon advised the otherwise no doubt with reluctance and only because of the demand on Amherst to bury the hatchet and give up the useless contest. To continue the struggle for the present would be vain. Pontiac though enraged by the desertion of his allies and by what seemed to him the cowardly conduct of the French determined at once to accept the situation, sue for peace and lay plans for future action. So far he had been fighting ostensibly for the restoration of French rule. In future whatever scheme he might devise his struggle must be solely in the interests of the red man. Next day he sent a letter to Gretwin backing that the past might be forgotten. His young man he said had buried the hatchet and he declared himself ready not only to make peace but also to send to all the nations concerned in a wall telling them to cease hostilities. No trust could Gretwin put in Pontiac's words yet he assumed a friendly bearing towards the treacherous conspirator who for nearly six months had given him no rest. Gretwin's views of the situation at this time are well shown in a report he made to Amherst. The Indians he said had lost many of their best warriors and would not be likely again to show a united front. It was in this report that he made the suggestion unique in warfare of destroying the Indians by the free sale of rum to them. If your excellency he wrote still intends to punish them further for their barbarities it may easily be done without any expenses to the crown by permitting a free sale of rum which will destroy them more effectively than fire and sword. He thought that the French had been the real plotters of the Indian war. I don't imagine there will be any dangers of there in braggers the Indians breaking out again provided some examples are made of our good friends the French who set them on. Pontiac and his band of savages paddled southward for the Maomi and spent the winter among the Indians along its upper waters. Again he broke his prided word and plotted a new confederacy. Greater than the three fires and sent messages with Wampum bells and red hatches to all the tribes as far south as the mouth of the Mississippi and as far north as the Red River but his glory had departed he could call but the warriors would not come when he summoned them. Fort Detroit was freed from hostile Indians and the soldiers could go to rest without expecting to hear the call to arms but before the year closed it was to be the witness of still another tragedy. Two or three weeks after the massacre at the Devil's Hall major Wilkins with some 600 troops started from Fort Slosser with a fleet of Batol for Detroit. No care seems to have been taken to send out scouts to learn if the forest bothering the river above the falls was free from Indians and as the Batol were slowly making their way against the swift stream towards Lake Erie they were savagely attacked from the western bank by Indians in such force that Wilkins was compelled to retreat to Fort Slosser. It was not until November that another attempt was made to send troops and provisions to Detroit. Early in this month Wilkins once more set out from Fort Slosser this time with 46 Batol heavily laden with troops provisions and ammunition. While they were in Lake Erie there arose one of the sudden storms so prevalent on the Great Lakes in autumn. Instead of creeping along the shore the Batol were in mid-lake and before a landing could be made the gale was on them in all its fury. There was a wild race for land but the choppy turbulent sea beach abhorred the boats of which some were swamped and the crews plunged into the chilly waters. They were opposite a forbidden shore called by Wilkins long beach but there was no time to look for a harbor. An attempt was made to land with disastrous results. In all 16 boats were sunk three officers four sergeants and 63 privates were drowned. The 30 Batol boat ashore were in a sinking condition half the provisions were lost and the remainder water sold. The journey to Detroit was out of the question. The few provisions saved were not last the remnant of Wilkins own soldiers for a month and the ammunition was almost entirely lost. Even if they succeeded in arriving safely at Detroit they would only be an added burden to Gretwin and so sick at heart from failure and the loss of comrades the survivors beached their way back to the Niagara. A week or two later a messenger arrived at Fort Detroit bearing news of the disaster. The scarcity of provisions at Detroit was such that Gretwin decided to reduce his garrison. Keeping about 200 men in the fort he sent the rest to Niagara. Then the force remaining at Detroit braced themselves to endure a hard lonely winter. This was not a pleasant lot. Never was garrison duty enjoyable during the winter in the northern parts of North America but in previous winters at Detroit the friendly intercourse between the soldiers and the settlers had made the season not unbearable. Now so many of the French had been sympathizers with the besieging Indians and indeed active in aiding them that the old relations could not be resumed. So during this winter of 1763-64 the garrison for the most part held aloof from the French settlers and performed the very round of military duties longing for spring and the size of a relieving force. End of chapter seven recording by Andy Yu Mississauga, Canada. Chapter eight of a Chronicle of the Pontiac War. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. A Chronicle of the Pontiac War by Thomas Guthrie Marquise. Chapter eight. Winding up the Indian War. Amherst was weary of America. Early in the summer of 1763 he had asked to be relieved of his command but it was not until October that General Thomas Gage then in charge of the government of Montreal was appointed to succeed him and not until November 17th the day after Gage arrived in New York that Amherst sailed for England. The new commander-in-chief was not as great a general as Amherst. It is doubtful if he could have planned and brought to a successful conclusion such campaigns as the Siege of Louisbourg and the threefold march of 1760 on Montreal which have given his predecessor a high place in the military history of North America. But Gage was better suited for winding up the Indian War. He knew the value of the officers familiar with the Indian tribes and was ready to act on their advice. Amherst had not done this and his best officers were now anxious to resign. George Krugin had resigned as Assistant Superintendent of Indian Affairs but was later induced by Gage to remain in office. Gladwin was heartily weary of his command and hoped to be relieved soon. Blaine and Uri were tired of their posts and the brave Ikuyer was writing in despair for God's sake let me go and raise cabbages. Bouquet too, although determined to see the war to a conclusion, was not satisfied with the situation. Meanwhile Sir William Johnston was not idle among the tribes of the six nations. The failure of Pontiac to reduce Fort Detroit and the victory of Bouquet at Edge Hill had convinced the Iroquois that ultimately the British would triumph and eager to be on the winning side they consented to take the field against the Shawnees and Delaware's. In the middle of February 1764 through Johnston's influence and by his aid two hundred Tuscaroras and Oneidas under a half-breed, Captain Montur, marched westward. Near the main branch of the Susquehanna they surprised 40 Delaware's on a scalping expedition against the British settlements and made prisoners of the entire party. A few weeks later a number of Mohawks led by Joseph Brandt, Thay and Donagia, put another band of Delaware's to rout, killing their chief and taking three prisoners. These attacks of the Iroquois disheartened the Shawnees and Delaware's and greatly alarmed the Seneca's, who trembling lest their own country should be laid waste, sent a deputation of four hundred of their chief men to Johnson Hall, Sir William Johnston's residence on the Mohawk, to sue for peace. It was agreed that the Seneca's should at once stop all hostilities, never again take up arms against the British, deliver up all prisoners at Johnson Hall, cede to his majesty the Niagara Carrying Place, allow the free passage of troops through their country, renounce all intercourse with the Delaware's and Shawnees, and assist the British in punishing them. Thus, early in 1764, through the energy and diplomacy of Sir William Johnston, the powerful Seneca's were brought to terms. With the opening of spring preparations began in earnest for a two-fold invasion of Indian country. One army was to proceed to Detroit by way of Niagara and the Lakes, and another from Fort Pitt to take the field against the Delaware's and the Shawnees. To Colonel John Bradstreet, who in 1758 had won distinction by his capture of Fort Frontenac, was assigned the command of the contingent that was to go on to Detroit. Bradstreet was to punish the Wyandotte's of Sandusky, and likewise the members of the Ottawa Confederacy if he should find them hostile. He was also to relieve Gladwin and regarison the forts captured by the Indians in 1763. Bradstreet left Albany in June with a large force of colonial troops and regulars, including 300 French Canadians from the St. Lawrence, whom Gage had thought it wise to have enlisted, in order to impress upon the Indians that they need no longer expect assistance from the French in their wars against the British. To prepare the way for Bradstreet's arrival Sir William Johnson had gone in advance to Niagara, where he had called together ambassadors from all tribes, not only from those that had taken part in the war, but from all within his jurisdiction. He had found a vast concourse of Indians awaiting him. The wigwams of over a thousand warriors dotted the low-lying land at the mouth of the river. In a few days the number had grown to two thousand, representatives of nations as far east as Nova Scotia, as far west of the Mississippi, and as far north as the Hudson Bay. Pontiac was absent, nor were there any Delaware, Shawnee, or Seneca ambassadors present. These were absent through dread, but later the Seneca sent deputies to ratify the treaty made with Johnson in April. When Bradstreet and his troops arrived negotiations were in full swing. For nearly a month councils were held, and at length all the chief's present had entered into an alliance with the British. This accomplished Johnson, on August 6th, left Niagara for his home, while Bradstreet continued his journey towards Detroit. Bradstreet halted at Presquile. Here he was visited by pretended deputies from the Shawnees and Delaware's who ostensibly sought peace. He made a conditional treaty with them and agreed to meet them twenty-five days later at Sandusky, where they were to bring their British prisoners. From Presquile he wrote to Bouquet at Fort Pitt, saying that it would be unnecessary to advance into the Delaware country, as the Delaware's were now at peace. He also reported his success, as he considered it, to Gage, but Gage was not impressed. He disavowed the treaty and instructed Bouquet to continue his preparations. Continuing his journey, Bradstreet rested at Sandusky, where more Delaware's waited on him and agreed to make peace. It was at this juncture that he sent Captain Thomas Morris on his ill-starred mission to the tribes of Mississippi. Morris and his companions got no further than the rapids of Ma Mee, where they were seized, stripped of clothing, and threatened with death. Pontiac was now among the Miami's, still striving to get together a following to continue the war. The prisoners were taken to Pontiac's camp, but the Ottawa Chief did not de-mit wise to murder a British officer on this occasion, and Morris was released and forced to retrace his steps. He arrived at Detroit after the middle of September, only to find that Bradstreet had already departed. The story will be found in more detail in Parkman's conspiracy of Pontiac. Bradstreet was at Detroit by August 26th, and at last the worn-out garrison and the fort could rest after fifteen months of exacting duties. Calling the Indians to counsel, Bradstreet entered into treaties with a number of chiefs, and pardoned several French settlers who had taken an active part with the Indians in the Siege of Detroit. He then sent troops to occupy Michele Mackenac, Green Bay, and Sault Ste. Marie, and sailed for Sandusky to meet the Delaware's and Shawnees, who had promised to bring in their prisoners. But none awaited him. The Indians had deliberately deceived him and were playing for time while they continued their attacks on the border settlers. Here he received a letter from Gage ordering him to disregard the treaty he had made with the Delaware's and to join Bouquet at Fort Pitt, and order which Bradstreet did not obey, making the excuse that the low state of the water in the rivers made it impossible and advanced to Fort Pitt. On October 18th he left Sandusky for Niagara, having accomplished nothing except occupation of the forts. Having already blundered, hopelessly, in dealing with the Indians, he was to blunder still further. On his way down Lake Erie he encamped one night, when storm threatened, on an exposed shore, and a gale from the northeast broke upon his camp and destroyed half his boats. Two hundred and eighty of his soldiers had to march overland to Niagara. Many of them perished. Others, starved, exhausted, frost bitten, came staggering in by twos and threes till near the end of December. The expedition was a fiasco. It blasted Bradstreet's reputation and made the British name for a time contemptible among the Indians. The other expedition from Fort Pitt has a different history. All through the summer Bouquet had been recruiting troops for the invasion of the Delaware country. The soldiers were slow in arriving, and it was not until the end of September that all was ready. Early in October Bouquet marched out of Fort Pitt with one thousand provincials and five hundred regulars. Crossing the Allegheny he made his way in a northwesternly direction until Beaver Creek was reached, and then turned westward into the unbroken forest. The Indians of the Muskingum Valley felt secure in their wilderness fastness. No white soldiers had ever penetrated to their country. To reach their villages dense woods had to be penetrated treacherous marches crossed and numerous streams bridged or forted. But by the middle of October Bouquet had led his army, without the loss of a man, into the heart of the Muskingum Valley, and pitched his camp near an Indian village named Tuscarora, from which the inhabitants had flooded his approach. The Delaware's and Shawnee's were terrified. The Victor of Edge Hill was among them with an army strong enough to crush to Adams any war-party they could muster. They sent deputies to Bouquet. These at first assumed a haughty mean, but Bouquet sternly rebuked them and ordered them to meet him at the forks of the Muskingum, forty miles distant to the southwest, and to bring in all their prisoners. By the beginning of November the troops were at the appointed place where they encamped. Bouquet then sent messengers to all the tribes telling them to bring thither all the captives without delay. Every white man, woman, and child in their hands, French or British, must be delivered up. After some hesitation the Indians made haste to obey. About two hundred captives were brought, and chiefs were left as hostages for the safe delivery of others still in the hands of distant tribes. So far Bouquet had been stern and unbending. He had reminded the Indians of their murder of settlers and of their black treachery regarding the garrisons, and hinted that, except for the kindness of their British father, they would be utterly destroyed. He now unbent and offered them a generous treaty, which was to be drawn up and arranged later by Sir William Johnson. Bouquet then retraced his steps to Fort Pitt, and arrived there on November twenty-eighth with his long train of released captives. He had won a victory over the Indians greater than his triumph at Edge Hill, and all the greater in that it was achieved without striking a blow. There was still, however, important work to be done before any guarantee of permanent peace in the hinterland was possible. On the eastern bank of the Mississippi, within the country ceded to England by the Treaty of Paris, was an important settlement over which the French flag still flew, and of which no British troops or invaders had penetrated. It was a hotbed of conspiracy. Even while Bouquet was making peace with the tribes between the Ohio and Lake Erie, Pontiac and his agents were trying to make trouble for the British among the Indians of the Mississippi. French settlement on the Mississippi began at the village of Cuscuskia, 84 miles north of the mouth of the Ohio. Six miles still farther north was Fort Shart, a strongly built stone fort capable of accommodating three hundred men. From here, at some distance from the river, a road ran to Cahokia, a village situated nearly opposite the side of the present city of St. Louis. The intervening country was settled by prosperous traders and planters who, including their four hundred Negro slaves, numbered not less than two thousand. But when it was learned that all the territory east of the Great River had been seated to Britain, the settlers began to migrate to the opposite bank. The French here were hostile to the incoming British and feared lest they might now lose the profitable trade with New Orleans. It was this region that Gage was determined to occupy. Already an effort had been made to reach Fort Shart. In February, 1864, Major Arthur Loftus had been sent out from New Orleans with four hundred men. But, when about two hundred and forty miles north of his starting point, his two leading boats were fired upon by Indians. Six men were killed and four wounded. To advance would mean the destruction of his entire company. Loftus returned to New Orleans, blaming the French officials for not supporting his enterprise, and indeed hinting that they were responsible for the attack. Some weeks later Captain Philip Pittman arrived at New Orleans with the intention of ascending the river. But reports of the enmity of the Indians to the British made him abandon the undertaking. So at the beginning of 1765 the French flag still flew over Fort Shart, and Saint Ange, who had succeeded Neon de Villiers as a commander of the Fort, was praying that the British might soon arrive to relieve him from a position where he was being daily importuned by Pontiac or his emissaries for aid against what they called the common foe. But if the route to Fort Shart by way of New Orleans was too dangerous, Bouquet had cleared the Ohio of enemies, and the country which Gage sought to occupy was now accessible by way of that river. As a preliminary step George Krogan was sent in advance with presence for the Indians along the route. In May 1765 Krogan left Fort Pitt accompanied by a few soldiers and a number of friendly Shawnee and Delaware chiefs. Near the mouth of the Wabash, a prowling band of Kikapus attacked the party, killing several and making prisoners of the rest. Krogan and his fellow prisoners were taken to the French traitors at Vincent, where they were liberated. They then went to Watanon, where Krogan held a council, and induced many chiefs to swear fealty to the British. After leaving Watanon, Krogan had proceeded westward but a little way when he was met by Pontiac with a number of chiefs and warriors. At last the arch-conspirator was ready to come to terms. The French on the Mississippi would give him no assistance. He realized now that his people were conquered, and before it was too late he must make peace with his conquerors. Krogan had no further reason to continue his journey, so accompanied by Pontiac he went to Detroit. Arriving there on August 17th, he had once called a council of the tribes in the neighborhood. At this council sat Pontiac among the chiefs whom he had led during the months of the Siege of Detroit. But it was no longer the same Pontiac. His haughty, domineering spirit was broken. His hopes of an Indian Empire were at an end. Father, he said at this council, I declare to all nations that I had made my peace with you before I came here, and I now deliver my pipe to Sir William Johnson that he may know that I have made peace and taken the King of England to be my father in the presence of all the nations now assembled. He further agreed to visit Oswego in the spring to conclude a treaty with Sir William Johnson himself. The path was now clear for the advance of the troops to Fort Shart. As soon as news of Krogan's success reached Fort Pitt, Captain Thomas Sterling, with 120 men of the Black Watch, sat out in boats for the Mississippi, arriving on October 9th at Fort Shart, the first British troops to set foot in that country. Next day Saint-Ange handed the keys of the fort to Sterling, and the Union Jack was flung aloft. Thus, nearly three years after the signing of the Treaty of Paris, the Fleur-de-Lis disappeared from the territory then known as Canada. There is still to record the closing act in the public career of Pontiac. Sir William Johnson, fearing that the Ottawa Chief might fail to keep his promise of visiting Oswego to ratify the treaty made with Krogan at Detroit, sent Hugh Crawford, in March 1766, with belts and messages to the Chiefs of the Ottawa Confederacy. But Pontiac was already preparing for his journey eastward. Nothing in his life was more credible than his bold determination to attend a council far from his hunting ground, at which he would be surrounded by soldiers who had suffered treachery and cruelty at his hands, whose comrades he had tortured and murdered. On July 23rd there began at Oswego the Grand Council, at which Sir William Johnson and Pontiac were the most conspicuous figures. For three days the ceremonies and speeches continued, and on the third day Pontiac rose in the assembly and made a promise that he was faithfully to keep. I take the Great Spirit to witness, he said, that what I am going to say I am determined steadfastly to perform. While I had the French King by the hand, I kept a fast hold of it, and now, having you, Father, by the hand, I shall do the same in conjunction with all the Western nations in my district. Before the Council ended, Johnson presented to each of the Chiefs a silver medal engraved with the words, A Pledge of Peace and Friendship with Great Britain, confirmed in 1766. He also loaded Pontiac in his brother Chiefs with presence, then, on the last day of July, the Indians scattered to their homes. For three years Pontiac, like a restless spirit, moved from camp to camp and from hunting ground to hunting ground. There were outbreaks of hostilities in the Indian country, but in none of these did he take part. His name never appears in the records of those three years. His days of conspiracy were at an end. By many of the French and Indians he was distrusted as a pensioner of the British, and by the British traders and settlers he was hated for his past deeds. In 1769 he visited the Mississippi and while at Cahokia he attended a drunken frolic held by some Indians. When he left the feast, stupid from the effects of rum, he was followed into the forest by a Kaskaskia Indian, probably bribed by a British trader. And as Pontiac lurched among the black shadows of the trees, his pursuer crept up behind him and with a swift stroke of the tomahawk cleft his skull. Thus by a treacherous blow ended the career of a warrior whose chief weapon had been treachery. For twelve years England, by means of military officers, ruled the great hinterland east of the Mississippi, a region vast and rich which now teams with a population immensely greater than that of the whole broad dominion of Canada, a region which is today dotted with such magnificent cities as Chicago, Detroit, and Indianapolis. Unhappily, England made no effort to colonize this wilderness empire. Indeed, as Edmund Burke has said, she made an attempt to keep as a layer of wild beast that earth which God, by an express charter, had given to the children of men. She forbade settlement in the hinterland. She did this ostensibly for the Indians, but in reality for the merchants in the mother country. In a report of the Lord's commissioners for trade and plantations in 1772, are words which show that it was the intention of the government to confine the western extent of settlements to such a distance from the seaboard as those settlements should lie within easy reach of the trade and commerce of this kingdom, and also of the exercise of that authority and jurisdiction necessary for the preservation of the colonies in a due subordination too and dependence upon the mother country. It does appear to us that the extension of the fur trade depends entirely upon the Indians being undisturbed in the possession of their hunting grounds. Let the savages enjoy their deserts in quiet. Were they driven from their forests, the peltry trade would decrease and it is not impossible that worst savages would take refuges in them. Much has been written about the stamp tax and the t-tax as causes of the American Revolution, but this determination to confine the colonies to the Atlantic seaboard rendered the revolution inevitable. Roosevelt's The Winning of the West Part 1, Page 57 In 1778, three years after the sword was drawn when an American force under George Rogers Clark invaded the Indian country, England's weekly garrisoned posts, then by the Quebec Act under the government of Canada were easily captured, and when accounts came to be settled after the war, the entire hinterland south of the Great Lakes from the Alleghenies to the Mississippi passed to the United States.