As the small-pox broke out in our camp, when we got nigh to the Muskohge country, and detained the Indians there till they recovered, I set off without them for Charles-town. By the benefit of the air, and their drinking a strong decoction of hot roots, they all recovered. A Choktah warrior of Yahshoo-town, humorously told me afterwards, that ookka hoomeh, “the bitter waters,” meaning spirituous liquors, cured some people, while it killed others. He, by the advice of one of the English traders, administered it in pretty good doses to seven of his children in the small-pox, which kept out the corrupt humour, and in a short time perfectly cured each of them, he said, without the least appearance of any dangerous symptoms; whereas the disorder proved very mortal to the young people in the neighbourhood, who pursued a different course of physic. As most of the Indian traders are devotees of Bacchus, their materia medica consists of spirituous liquors, compounded with strong herbs and roots, of which they commonly have a good knowledge: and I have observed those who have left off the trade, and reside in the British settlements, to give their negroes for an anti-venereal, a large dose of old Jamaica and qualified mercury mixt together,—which, they say, the blacks cheerfully drink, without making a wry face, contrary to their usage {339} with every other kind of physic; and it is affirmed, that by this prescription, they soon get well.
The small pox with which the upper towns of the Muskohge were infected, was of the confluent sort, and it would have greatly depopulated them, if the officious advice of some among us, of all the other towns to cut off every kind of communication with them, on the penalty of death to any delinquent, had not been given and pursued. They accordingly posted centinels at proper places, with strict orders to kill such, as the most dangerous of all enemies: and these cautious measures produced the desired effect. And by the mean mediation of several of our principal traders, joined with the interest of their red friends, the commandant of the Alebahma fort, prevailed at last on the Chikkasah chieftain to take the three French prisoners to him, as he would pay him to his own satisfaction, give him presents, and drink with him as a friend, who had buried the bloody tomohawk deep in the ground. They were delivered up; and by that means the French were enabled to discourage those Muskohge warriors, who had joined the Chikkasah in the aforesaid acts of hostility against the Missisippi inhabitants. In about the space of three months from the time the Chikkasah left their own country with me, they arrived at the late New-Windsor garrison, the western barrier of South-Carolina, and beautifully situated on a high commanding bank of the pleasant meandering Savanah river; so termed on account of the Shawano Indians having formerly lived there, till by our foolish measures, they were forced to withdraw northward in defence of their freedom.
At the request of the governor and council I rode there, to accompany our Chikkasah friends to Charles-town, where, I believe, on my account, they met with a very cold reception: for as something I wrote to the two gentlemen who fitted out, and sustained the loss of the Sphynx-company, had been inserted in the “modest reply to his Excellency the Governor,” formerly mentioned, in order to obtain bills of exchange on Great Britain, I was now become the great object of his displeasure, and of a certain sett, who are known to patronise any persons if they chance to be born in the same corner of the world with themselves. The Chikkasah had a very ungracious audience: On account {340} of the excessive modesty of this warlike people, their chieftain gave out a short oration, without hinting in the most distant manner, at any difficulties they underwent, by reason of their strong attachment to the British Americans,—concluding, that as the English beloved men were endowed with a surprising gift of expressing a great deal in few words, long speeches would be troublesome to them. He intended to have spoken afterwards of the Choktah affairs, and that I was a great sufferer by them, without any just retribution, and accordingly was very desirous of a second public interview; but our cunning beloved man artfully declined it, though they staid as late as the middle of April. It was a custom with the colony of South-Carolina towards those Indians who came on a friendly visit, to allow them now and then a tolerable quantity of spirituous liquors, to cheer their hearts, after their long journey; but, if I am not mistaken, those I accompanied, had not a drop, except at my cost. And when the Governor gave them, at the entrance of the council-chamber, some trifling presents, he hurried them off with such an air as vexed them to the heart; which was aggravated by his earnestly pointing at a noted war-leader, and myself, with an angry countenance, swearing that Indian had been lately down from Savanah, and received presents. They had so much spirit that they would not on any account have accepted his presents, but for my persuasions. As for myself, I could not forbear saying, honour compelled me as solemnly to declare that his assertion was not true, and that I had often given more to the Choktah at one time, than he had ever given to the Chikkasah, in order to rivet their enmity against the French of Louisiana, and thereby open a lasting trade with them, from which I was unfairly excluded, on account of a friendly monopoly, granted by him for a certain end to mere strangers. My words seemed to lie pretty sharp upon him, and I suppose contributed not a little to the uncourtly leave he took of our gallant, and faithful old friends. Soon after, at the request of the Governor and council however, I accompanied them the first day’s march, on their way home from Charles-town: they had no public order of credit for their needful travelling charges, though I sollicited his Excellency and the council to grant them one, according to the ancient, hospitable, and wise custom of South-Carolina, to all Indians who paid them a friendly visit, whose journey was far shorter, were often uninvited, and of much less service, than the Chikkasah to the British interest. As their horses were {341} very poor, I told the Governor they could travel only at a slow pace, and as the wild game was scarce in our settlements, hunger, and resentment for their unkind usage, would probably tempt them to kill the planters stock, which might produce bad consequences, and ought to be cautiously guarded against; but I was an unfortunate solicitor.
With a flow of contrary passions I took my leave of our gallant Chikkasah friends. I viewed them with a tender eye, and revolved in my mind the fatigues, difficulties, and dangers, they had cheerfully undergone, to testify the intense affection they bore to the British Americans,—with the ill treatment they had received from our chief magistrate, on account of his own disappointments, and sharp-felt censures, for some supposed mismanagement, or illicit measures in trade. He is reported to have been no way churlish to several of the dastardly Choktah, notwithstanding his unprecedented and unkind treatment of our warlike Chikkasah—two hundred of which would attack five hundred of the others, and defeat them with little loss. Their martial bravery has often testified this against enemies even of a greater spirit.
Not long after the Chikkasah returned homeward, I advertised in the weekly paper, that as I intended to leave Charles-town in a short time, I was ready and willing to answer any of the legislative body such questions as they might be pleased to propose to me concerning our Indian affairs, before the expiration of such a time; and that if his Excellency desired my attendance, and either notified it in writing, or by a proper officer, I might be found at my old lodgings. On the evening of the very last day I had proposed to stay, he sent me a peremptory written order to attend that night, on public business, concerning Indian affairs; I punctually obeyed, with respect to both time and place. He was now in a dilemma, by reason of his (supposed) self-interested conduct concerning the Choktah trade, which occasioned the aforesaid modest reply, that arraigned his proceedings with severity and plainness. As I came down with the Indians, and was detained by his Excellency, under the great seal of the province, till this period, April 1750, I had just reason to expect that good faith would have been kept with me—that I should have been paid according to promise, at least for all the goods I gave the Indians, by virtue thereof; and have had a just compensation for the great expenses I {342} was at in serving the government;—but except the trifling sum of four pounds sterling, when I was setting off for the Indian country, I never received one farthing of the public money, for my very expensive, faithful, and difficult services.[[191]]
In most of our American colonies, there yet remain a few of the natives, who formerly inhabited those extensive countries: and as they were friendly to us, and serviceable to our interests, the wisdom and virtue of our legislature secured them from being injured by the neighbouring nations. The French strictly pursued the same method, deeming such to be more useful than any others on alarming occasions. We called them “Parched-corn-Indians,”[[192]] because they chiefly use it for bread, are civilized, and live mostly by planting. As they had no connection with the Indian nations, and were desirous of living peaceable under the British protection, none could have any just plea to kill or inslave them. But the grasping plan of the French required those dangerous scout-parties, as they termed them, to be removed out of the way; and the dormant conduct of the South-Carolina chief, gave them an opportunity to effect that part of their design; though timely notice, even years before, had been given by the Cheerake traders, that the French priests were poisoning the minds of those Indians against us, who live among the Apalahche mountains, and were endeavouring to reconcile them to all the various nations of the Missisippi and Canada savages; and that there was the greatest probability they would accomplish their dangerous plan, unless we soon took proper measures to prevent it. The informers had ill names and resentment for their news, and the assembly was charged with mispending their time, in taking notice of the wild incoherent reports of illiterate obscure persons. But it afterwards appeared, that according to their testimony, the interest and security of South-Carolina were in great danger. By the diligence of the French, their Indians entered into a treaty of friendship with the Cheerake: and their country became the rendezvous of the red pupils of the black Jesuits. Hence they ravaged South-Carolina, beginning at the frontier weak settlements, and gradually advanced through the country, for the space of eight years, destroying the live stock, insulting, frightening, wounding, and sometimes killing the inhabitants, burning their houses, carrying away their slaves, and committing every kind of devastation, till they proceeded so low as within thirty miles of Charles-town.[[193]] The sufferers often exhibited their complaints, in the most pathetic and public manner; and {343} the whole country felt the ill effects of the late over-bearing and negligent conduct. False colouring could serve no longer, and a few inconsiderable parties were sent out—but not finding any enemy, they were in a few months disbanded, and peaceable accounts were again sent home.
Our Settlement-Indians were at this time closely hunted, many were killed, and others carried off. A worthy gentleman, G. H. Esq;[[194]] who lived at the Conggarees, suffered much on the occasion—he was employed to go to the Cheerake country, in quest of valuable minerals, in company with an Indian commissioner:[[195]]—in one of their middle towns, he retook some of our Settlement-Indians from the Canada-savages, whom a little before they had captivated and carried off from South-Carolina in triumph. While they were beating the drum, singing, dancing, and pouring the utmost contempt on the English name, honour prompted him to prefer the public credit to his own safety. By the earnest mediation of one of the traders, the head-men of the town consented to be neutral in the affair, and act as impartial friends to both parties. He then, with Col. F—x,[[196]] and some of the traders, went in a warlike gallant manner, and regardless of the savages threats, took and brought to a trader’s house, our captivated friends:—they stood all night on their arms, and at a convenient interval, supplied those whom they had liberated, with necessaries to carry them to our settlements, where their trusty heels soon carried them safe. The gallant behaviour of those gentlemen gained the applause of the Cheerake—and each soon returned in safety, without any interruption, to their respective homes, where I wish they had ever after continued. But Mr. G. H. having considerably engaged himself in trade with the Katahba Indians, set off afterwards in company with an half-bred Indian of that nation, the favourite son of Mr. T. B. a famous old trader: in their way to the Katahba, they were intercepted, and taken by some of the very savages who had threatened him among the Cheerake, when he released our domestic Indians. The government of South-Carolina was soon informed of the unhappy affair: and they dispatched a friendly embassy to the lower towns of the Cheerake, requesting them to intercept and retake the prisoners, if they passed near their country, and offered a considerable reward. Our friends were carried a little to the northward of the Cheerake nation, where their captors camped several days, and the Cheerake held with them an open friendly intercourse, as in despite to the English. The head men of the lower towns, not only stopped the traders and their red friends from going to rescue them, {344} but likewise threatened them for their generous intention. The savages, instead of keeping a due northern course homeward, took a large compass north-west, by the side of the Cheerake mountains, being afraid of a pursuit from the Katahba Indians. They marched fast with their two captives, to secure their retreat till they got within the bounds of the French treaty of peace, and then steered a due northern course, continuing it till they got nigh to their respective countries, where they parted in two bodies, and each took one of the prisoners with them. But as travelling so great a way in the heat of summer, was what Mr. G. H. was unaccustomed to, he was so much overcome by fatigue and sickness, that for several days before, he could not possibly walk. He then requested them to put him out of his misery, but they would not; for they reckoned his civil language to them proceeded from bodily pains, and from a martial spirit, which they regarded. They consented to carry him on a bier, which they did both with care and tenderness. But on parting with his companion, he refused absolutely to proceed any farther with them, when they tomohawked him, just as his parted friend was out of the hearing of it. The last afterwards got home, and told us this melancholy exit of our worthy and much-lamented friend—who died as he lived, always despising life, when it was to be preserved only in a state of slavery. Though he was thus lost to his family and the community, by a manly performance of the duties of his office, in which he engaged by the pressing entreaties of the Governor, yet his widow was treated ungenerously and basely, as was Capt. J. P. at the Conggarees.—But there would be no end, if we were to enter into particulars of court policy, and government honor and gratitude.
—
If our watch-men had not been quite remiss, they would have at least opposed the French emissaries on their first approach to our colonies, and have protected our valuable civilized Indians; for our negroes were afraid to run away, lest they should fall into their hands. The scheming French knew of what importance they were to us, and therefore they employed their red friends to extirpate them. And while those remote savages of Missisippi and Canada were pretending to seek the revenge of some old grievance, they wounded us at the same time in two very material points,—in getting a thorough knowledge of the situation of our most valuable, but weak southern colonies, and thus could strike us the {345} deeper,—and in destroying such of our inhabitants, as were likely to prove the greatest check to their intended future depredations. By our own misconduct, we twice lost the Shawano Indians; who have since proved very hurtful to our colonies in general. When the French employed them to weaken South-Carolina, a small company of them were surrounded and taken in a remote house of the lower settlements: and though they ought to have been instantly put to death, in return for their frequent barbarities to our people, yet they were conveyed to prison, confined a considerable time, and then discharged, to the great loss of many innocent lives. For as the Indians reckon imprisonment to be inslaving them, they never forgive such treatment; and as soon as these got clear, they left bloody traces of their vindictive tempers, as they passed along. About this time, a large company of French savages came from the head-streams of Monongahela-river to the Cheerake, and from thence were guided by one of them to where our settlement-Indians resided. They went to a small town of the Euhchee, about twelve miles below Savanah-town, and two below Silver-bluff, where G. G. Esq; lives, and there watched like wolves, till by the mens making a day’s hunt, they found an opportunity to kill the women and children. Immediately after which, they scouted off different ways, some through Savanah-river, which is about 200 yards broad; and others to the hunting place, both for their own security, and to give the alarm: We had on this occasion, a striking instance of the tender affection of the Indian women to their children, for all those who escaped, carried off their little ones. The men, by the alarming signal of the shrill-sounding war-cry, soon joined, ran home, and without staying to view the bloody tragedy, instantly took the enemies tracks, and eagerly gave chase. To avoid the dreaded pursuit, the Cheerake guide led the French mercenaries a northern course, as far as the thick woods extended, which was about fifteen miles from the place of their murders. From thence they shifted toward the north-west, and were stretching away about 10 miles to the north of Augusta, for Ninety-Six, which lay in a direct line to the lower towns of the Cheerake; when unluckily for them, just as they were entering into the open, and long-continued pine-barren, they were discovered by one of our hunting white men, who was mounted on an excellent white horse, and therefore a fine mark to be shot, which they would have done for their own security, only he outstripped them, and kept in their back-tracks, to trace them to their theatre of blood—their posture and countenances plainly told him what they had done, on {346} some of our barriers. He had not proceeded far, when he met the enraged Euhchee, on the hot pursuit. He told them their course, and that their number was twenty-six. In running about twelve miles farther, they came in sight of the objects of their hatred and rage: presently, they ran on each side of them, engaged them closely, and killed several. Those who escaped, were forced to throw away nine guns, (they had taken from some of our people) and almost every thing, even their light breeches, to save their lives. They were so exceedingly terrified, lest the enraged pursuers should continue the chase, that they passed wide of our then weak settlement of Ninety-Six, and kept on day and night, till they got near to their conductor’s mountainous country. This was in the beginning of May 1750: and in our Indian-trading way, we say that, when the heat of the new year enables the snakes to crawl out of their lurking holes, the savages are equally moved to turn out to do mischief. Many have experimentally felt the truth of this remark.
I had at this time occasion to go to the Cheerake country; and happened to have a brave chearful companion, Mr. H. F.[[197]] of Ninety-Six settlement. We had taken a hearty draught of punch, about ten miles from Keeohwhee-town, opposite to which the late Fort-Prince-George stood, and were proceeding along, when we discovered the fresh tracks of Indians in the path, who were gone a-head. As we could not reasonably have the least suspicion of their being enemies, we rode quite carelessly: but they proved to be the above-mentioned Monongahela-Indians. Their watchfulness, and our singing, with the noise of our horses feet, made them hear us before they could possibly see us,—when they suddenly posted themselves off the path, behind some trees, just in the valley of Six-mile-creek, in order to revenge their loss by the Euhchee, which they ascribed to the information of the white man. But their Cheerake guide prevented them from attempting it, by telling them, that as his country was not at war with us, his life must pay for it, if they chanced to kill either of us; and as we were fresh and well-armed, they might be sure we would fight them so successfully, as at least one of us should escape and alarm the towns: with this caution they forbore the hazardous attempt. They squatted, and kept close therefore, so as we did not see one of them; and we suspected no danger. By the discontinuance of their tracks, we soon knew we had passed them: but, just when we had hidden two cags of {347} rum, about two miles from the town, four of them appeared, unarmed, stark naked, and torn by the thickets. When we discovered them, we concluded they had been below on mischief. If we had not been so nigh the town, my companion would have fired at them. We went into the town, and the traders there soon informed us of their cowardly design.