“Father!—You have got the arms and ammunition which our great father sent for his red children. If you have an idea of going away, give them to us, and you may go and welcome. Our lives are in the hands of the Great Spirit. We are determined to defend our lands, and if it be his will, we wish to leave our bones upon them.”
During the retreat of General Proctor, which finally ended in his discomfiture, he returned with Tecumseh and a small guard to view the ground at a place called Chatham, where a large unfordable creek falls into the Thames. Having thoroughly examined the place, it was approved of, and Proctor told Tecumseh, as they rode in the same gig, that upon that spot they would either defeat General Harrison or there lay their bones. Tecumseh seemed much pleased at this determination, and said, that “it was a good place, and when he should look at the two streams, they would remind him of the Wabash and Tippecanoe.” It was here that a skirmish took place but a short time previous to the general battle, Proctor having left Tecumseh to defend the pass, with about twelve hundred Indians. He was unsuccessful, and rejoining Proctor they formed in order of battle, near the Moravian towns. Tecumseh commanded the right wing of the allied army, and was himself posted on the left of that wing. It is said, he entertained fears that Proctor would retreat, and that some few minutes before the battle commenced, he rode up to him, and told him that the British wing was not far enough up to be in line with his.
This incident in the history of Tecumseh, is narrated on the authority of an English officer who was taken prisoner, and Tecumseh was surely authorized in making the assertion, from Proctor's failing to assist him in defending the pass at Chatham. An examination of that place will show, as stated by historians, that had the ground been occupied by the Indians and English conjointly, and had they defended it with even tolerable bravery, it would have been utterly impossible for the American army to have crossed over. Great as were the exertions of Tecumseh, and untiring as were his efforts for so long a time, it was his misfortune to be connected with, and in a great degree governed by one to whom he was in every point of view superior. In forming an alliance with the English, he necessarily placed himself under the guidance of Proctor, who was at the head of the English forces. From the time of their first connexion, Tecumseh was ever urging him on to battle. Upon the first tidings of Perry's victory, Proctor, notwithstanding Tecumseh's remonstrances, hurried away from Malden, where he was then encamped. “If,” says the historian of the western war, “he had taken Tecumseh's advice, and fought the Americans before retreating, the result must have been more glorious at least, if not entirely favourable to the British arms.” And throughout all his subsequent retreats we always find Tecumseh stationed in the rear, and guarding the passes, while the English army continued its flight in safety; and to such an extent was this cowardly policy carried, that even when they had resolved to fight, and all their forces were arranged, we see Tecumseh just on the eve of the battle, going up to the English general, and telling him that his wing was not sufficiently advanced. How must Tecumseh's soul have glowed with indignation when he saw this conduct in one whom he had so faithfully served, and who, instead of attempting to withdraw himself from the contest, and thrust forward his allies, ought rather by his example, to have incited them to deeds of noble daring. Leaving Proctor, and no doubt deploring the hard fate which had made them acquainted, he returned to his warriors, and with his return, the battle commenced. Here was Tecumseh's last struggle. With the first onset of the Americans, the British lines were broken, and their troops either surrendered or fled precipitately.—The only resistance, then, to our victorious arms was found in the right wing, where stood Tecumseh, with his swarthy band. Conspicuous among his warriors, by a plume of white feathers, which he wore in his cap, he was seen dealing destruction around him, and in the most exciting language, was heard to urge his followers to the onset. Although the regular troops of the allied army were routed, and Tecumseh saw them flying from the field, still he, with his trusty band, quailed not. They yet breasted the storm of war, fighting hand to hand for the position which they first occupied. But now, when charge followed charge, and mounted infantry, flushed with success, came rushing impetuous on, and bearing down all before them, the Indians began to waver, and yielded to the shock. But no sooner did they turn to fly, than the voice of Tecumseh, who still stood firm as a mountain rock, was heard rising far above the crash of arms and din of battle, rallying them, and again cheering them on to the attack;—again they returned,—but to be beaten back; and again and again they braved the battle's fiercest shock.—Then fled; but, hark! no rallying voice recalls them now. The chief with the ostrich plume, lies low! Tecumseh had fallen! But not alone; for many of his best and bravest followers lay close around him.
The sequel is soon told. The allied army being routed, the Indians immediately after, sued for peace, and the spirit of opposition which had so long been manifested to the measures of the government, was effectually quelled.
As to the individual who killed Tecumseh, public opinion ever has been, and still remains divided. Sometime previously to the battle of the Moravian towns, Colonel Richard M. Johnson, than whom no one bore himself more gallantly in the north-western war, joined the army, with a corps of mounted volunteers, from Kentucky. He was present at the battle of the Thames, and commanded that part of the American army which was opposed to Tecumseh and his immediate followers. To him has generally been assigned this honour.4
“The grave in which Tecumseh's remains were deposited by the Indians, after the return of the American army, is still to be seen near the borders of a willow marsh, on the north line of the battleground, with a large fallen oak tree lying by its side. The willow and wild rose, are thick around it, but the mound itself is cleared of shrubbery, and is said to owe its good condition to the occasional visits of his countrymen.”
A brief mention of the remaining characters of our story, and we have done.
Oloompa! yes, noble, generous Oloompa! all thy virtues could not save thee! ill-fated wert thou as the noble chief whom it was thy destiny to follow. Escaping from the battle of Tippecanoe, he united himself with Tecumseh immediately upon his return from the south, continued one of his firmest adherents, and fell fighting by his side, in the battle which closed his career.
A word of the Prophet.—Tecumseh having forgiven him for his agency in the ill-timed explosion of their schemes, they again became united, and the Prophet continued for some time unremitting in his exertions to unite the Indians. In the records of that period, we frequently find mention of his wandering about and preaching even up to within a short time of the battle of the Thames. We can find no evidence of his having been present in any engagement; yet it would perhaps be unfair to presume that therefore he was absent, inasmuch as even though present, he himself would have been overshadowed by the greater fame of Tecumseh. When, subsequent to the battle of the Thames, the Indians sued for peace, and began to form treaties with the United States, the Prophet retired to the neighbourhood of Fort Malden, on the Canada side of Detroit River, where, without exercising the least influence, and even despised by the Indians, he continued to reside, a pensioner on the bounty of the British government, until the time of his death, not many years since. The general contempt with which he was treated during his latter days, must in his mind, have been sadly contrasted with the vast power which he once wielded, and formed a good commentary on the cruel and treacherous policy which characterized him. Had he, in his exertions for his countrymen, pursued a different course, he might have left a more enviable reputation, yet he could never have equalled Tecumseh; nor could Tecumseh, by possibility, have played the part assigned to Elkswatawa. Had the brothers succeeded in the accomplishment of their wishes, volumes would have told the story of their praise. They failed, their joint endeavours have been almost forgotten, and even of their history, though so intimately blended, in the recollection of the public, scarcely any remains save the proud name of Tecumseh.