It happened, that the author, in his school-boy days, fell into the same district with these Anglo-Indian lads, Eleazer Williams and his brother John. On the first few days of their appearance in the school-room, they were as much the objects of curiosity with the other children, as they and their father were with the congregation at church. From the wildness of their nature and habits, it was necessary for the master to humour their eccentricities, until they might gradually accommodate themselves to discipline; and but for the benevolent object in view, and the good anticipated, it was no small sacrifice to endure the disorder, which their manners at first created. Unused to restraint, and amazed at the orderly scene around them, they would suddenly jump up, and cry, Umph! or some other characteristic and guttural exclamation, and then perhaps spring across the room, and make a true Indian assault upon a child, on whom they had fixed their eyes, to his no small affright and consternation;—or else dart out of the house, and take to their heels in such a direction, as their whims might incline them. Confinement they could ill endure at first; and so long as they did nothing but create disorder, (and that they did very effectually) they were indulged—until by degrees, they became used to discipline, and began to learn. Their first attempts by imitation to enunciate the names of the letters of the Roman alphabet, were quite amusing—so difficult was it for them to form their tongue and other organs to the proper shapes. If the children of the school laughed, (as there was some apology for doing) these boys would sometimes cast a contemptuous roll of the eye over the little assembly, and then leaving an “Umph!” behind them, would dart out of the house, in resentment;—all which was patiently endured by the master. For he was particularly instructed not to use compulsion. They ultimately became attentive and good boys, both in school and in the family, where they were cherished;—the eldest, however, always manifesting more tractableness and docility of the two. They gradually dropped their Indian dress and manners, and adopted those of their new society. The eldest, as he grew up, became a universal favourite, was extensively introduced into the best society of New England;—was cherished by every body, as a most promising youth;—and all began to predict that he would ultimately be of great service to his own nation, and to the Indian tribes. For this purpose, his love of his own people was carefully cherished by all his patrons, who were very numerous, and among the best and most influential men of the country. No pains or expense were spared to enlarge his mind, cultivate his best feelings, and fit him for a high destiny. And the gradual and rapid developements of his intellect and moral virtues, and the improvement of his manners, abundantly satisfied and rewarded the hopes and pains exhausted upon him. In addition to all the rest, and as the highest finish of his character, he was observed to embrace and cherish with great sincerity and earnestness, the radical and practical principles of Christian piety. He grew up a gentleman and a Christian.
For a time, during the last war between the United States and Great Britain, his original and benevolent patrons in New England, were somewhat disappointed and grieved, in consequence of his having attached himself, by temptations held out to him, to the staff of the American army in the north. In consideration of his known abilities and of his connexion with the Indian tribes in Canada, which were the auxiliaries and more or less employed in the British army, his services were deemed important, by the Americans, to counteract the hostile influence of these tribes on the northern frontier. In the battle of Plattsburg, himself and his brother John sustained conspicuous and useful parts—although the engagement did not amount to much besides skirmishing, in consequence of the decisive action on Lake Champlain, in the face of Plattsburg, which caused the sudden retreat of the British forces from before the town into Canada.
Peace being concluded, and the natural excitements of a campaign subsiding in his mind, Mr. Williams’s feelings settled down again into their former condition of repose and benevolent regard for the race, from which he sprung, and to which he was allied, not only by the ties of nature, but by a long cherished and ever wakeful regard for their highest and best interests. He felt, that Providence had called him to consecrate his energies, his influence, and superior advantages, to their welfare;—and he fondly indulged the hope, that he was destined to elevate their condition. It was not long before he was introduced and commended to Bishop Hobart, of New York, and received orders in the Christian ministry from under his hand, to be employed in that capacity among the Indian tribes. He commenced his labours in 1815, with the Oneidas, at Oneida Castle, near Utica, in the State of New York.
CHAPTER XVII.
REV. MR. WILLIAMS AT GREEN BAY; IMPORTANCE OF HIS RELATIONS THERE, &c.
It happened, that the Rev. Mr. Williams, the subject of the foregoing Chapter, was at the head of all the movements of the New York Indians, which induced them to emigrate, and finally planted them in the North-West Territory. Being himself a chief, and more accustomed to the world than his brethren, and well qualified for business, he always took the lead in all the negotiations with the general Government. Like Moses of old, he was captain of the tribes, religiously and politically. Like Joshua, he went into the promised land with his own people, and settled them there; and stationed himself in the midst of them, still their pastor and leader. He had succeeded in introducing into the North-West Territory, and settling on the banks and near the mouth of Fox River, two of the most cultivated and most important of the New York tribes:—the Oneidas and Stockbridges—with every prospect, if things had gone on well, of bringing all the rest after them. Mr. Williams had indulged the pleasing hope of instituting, under the protection and patronage, pledged by the Government of the United States, a new and bright era in the history of American Aborigines. His public character and private worth had not only given him a well-earned and merited ascendancy among the Indians; but a high and commanding influence with the Government. He was widely known, well esteemed, and universally respected. And his appearance and manners, from childhood accustomed to the world in all its various shapes, portly in person, dignified in mien, condescending, courteous, and affable—and withal developing equally the European and Indian character, in all the expressions of his countenance, and in the exhibitions of his temper—showed him at once a man made for respect and influence.
Soon after Mr. Williams’s removal to Green Bay, he married a daughter of a Mr. Jordon of that settlement, himself a Frenchman, and his wife a pure Indian, of the Menomenie tribe in that region. In this particular, viz. of having an equal share of European blood, Mr. Williams and his wife were alike. And in all the excellencies, which adorn the female character, Mrs. Williams was not inferior to her husband, as a man.
Although myself and Mr. Williams had been a long time separate, and had not met more than once, and that only for a few moments, from 1806 to 1830, we yet had all the reasons, characteristic of the romantic attachments of our earliest years, to cherish the kindest affections towards each other. We had kept the traces of each other’s history in the meantime, and each had rejoiced in the other’s welfare; and it was as great mutual pleasure, as it was unexpected, to meet once more on such interesting ground; and on an occasion so interesting, as that, which had brought me to Green Bay, in August 1830.
The next day after our arrival at Green Bay, I found myself in an Indian canoe, for the first time in my life, paddled by two wild Indians, ascending the Fox River, in company with Mr. Williams to his residence, eight miles above the settlement at the river’s mouth. This unwonted and novel condition, in such a bark (literally a bark) and in such society, was associated with many interesting recollections. And as may be imagined, we talked over and lived again the scenes of childhood. We talked and lived again the years we had spent apart. We blessed and adored that Providence, which had kept and guided us through so many eventful scenes. We wondered at the concurrence of events, which had thus thrown us together, and rather dreamt over it as a vision, than realized it as sober fact.
Our first snug adjustment, however, in the canoe, is worthy of a passing remark. He who has never stepped foot in this floating thing, must take good heed, that he do not venture to stand upon his feet, and that he get himself, as soon as convenient, “squat like a toad” (alias, like an Indian) in the bottom of the canoe;—else he will find the light and fickle bark quickly rolling and pitching him head-foremost into the watery element. Nothing is more deceptive and treacherous, than an Indian canoe, to him who is unaccustomed to its whims. It is scarcely possible for such a person to get seated in it without upsetting. And yet the Indian, who understands its temper, will so adjust himself and so work his muscular powers, as to anticipate and feel all its sudden and fitful movements, and defy its instinctive and mischievous attempts to dislodge him into the deep. He will stand, or walk, or sit, as suits himself;—or mount with either foot on either rim;—and compel the vicious and wayward thing to a quick obedience of his will. It is itself as light as an airy nothing, and bounds over the tops of the waves, like the skipping steps of a fairy sprite, darting forward to gratify its own humour. My own awkward attempts to adjust myself in this whimsical thing, even after all the benefit of advice, was the occasion of no little merriment to the two wild Menomenies, who were to be the paddlers, and to others of the tribe, who witnessed the embarkation. Even Mr. Williams, with all his politeness, could not keep his gravity, but was forced to join heartily in the merry peal, which showered upon me from these simple children of nature. Side by side, however, and at last, Mr. Williams and myself sat in the bottom of the canoe, on a mat woven from the stock of wild rice, and began to ascend the Fox River, smooth and swift, as the Indians dipped their paddles, and awakened the instinctive life of their airy bark.
One of our paddlers was a man of forty, the other a youth of eighteen—both painted, with little covering, except a blanket carelessly pendant from the shoulder, or belted round the waist; and a feather or two stuck in the hair, on the crown of the head. The elder had his whiskey bottle, and the younger his rifle lying at his feet.