[FN] A similar custom prevailed among the ancient Greeks. Two young warriors often assumed this obligation of brotherhood, which was taken with peculiar ceremonies, and maintained inviolate through life.
[CHAPTER II.]
Early symptoms of disaffection at Boston—Origin of the Revolutionary War—First blood shed in 1770—Stirring eloquence of Joseph Warren—Feelings of Sir William Johnson—His influence with the Indians and Germans, and his unpleasant position—Last visit of Sir William to England—His death—Mysterious circumstances attending it—Suspicions of suicide unjust—His son, Sir John Johnson, succeeds to his title and estates—His son-in-law, Col. Guy Johnson, to his office as superintendent General of the Indians—Early life of Sir John—Joseph Brant appointed Secretary to Guy Johnson—Influence of the Johnson family—Revolutionary symptoms in Tryon County, fomented by the proceedings in New England—First meeting of Tryon County Whigs—Declaration of Rights—First meeting of Congress—Effect of its proceedings—in England—Tardiness of Provincial legislature of New-York—Spirit of the people—Notes of preparation in Massachusetts, &c.—Overt acts of rebellion in several States—Indians exasperated by the Virginia borderers in 1774—Melancholy story of Logan—Campaign of Lord Dunmore and Colonel Lewis—Battle of the Kanhawa—Speech of Logan—Its authenticity questioned—Peace of Chilicothe—Unhappy feeling of the Indians.
It has been usually asserted by historians, that the first blood in the war of the American Revolution was shed at Lexington; but such is not the fact. The Boston massacre of 1770 was the beginning of that contest, so fearful in its commencement, so doubtful in its progress, and so splendid in its results. The storm had even then been gathering for several years, and the public mind had become exceedingly feverish, not only in regard to the conduct of the parent government, but in respect to the language and bearing of the officers of the crown stationed in the colonies. When, moreover, the people of Boston were subjected to what they considered a still greater indignity, by the quartering of soldiers among them, the irritation was such that but a small degree of forecast was necessary to the perception of an approaching explosion. The affair at Gray's Rope-Walk, on the 2d of March, increased the mutual exasperation; and the massacre that followed on the 5th was but the natural consequence. The first blow was then struck. The town was thrown into commotion, the drums beat to arms; and the news, with the exaggerations and embellishments incident to all occasions of alarm, spread through the country with the rapidity of lightning. Every where, throughout the wide extent of the old thirteen colonies, it created a strong sensation, and was received with a degree of indignant emotion, which very clearly foretold that blood had only commenced flowing; and although five years intervened before the demonstration at Lexington, there were too many nervous pens and eloquent tongues in exercise to allow those feelings to subside, or to suffer the noble spirit of liberty that had been awakened to be quenched. Such stirring orations as those of Joseph Warren were not uttered in vain; and so often as the anniversary of the 5th of March returned, were the people reminded by him, or by his compatriots of kindred spirit—"The voice of your brethren's blood cries to you from the ground." The admonition had its effect, and the resolutions of vengeance sank deeper and deeper into the hearts of the people, until the fullness of time should come.
Sir William Johnson was too observing and sagacious a man not to note the signs of the times. He saw the gathering tempest, and it is believed to have given him great uneasiness. His sympathies, according to the testimony of those who knew him, were undoubtedly with the people. He was from the body of the people himself, having been the architect of his own rank and fortunes; and those who were acquainted with, and yet survive him, represent the struggle in his bosom to have been great, between those sympathies and his own strong principles of liberty on the one hand, and his duty to his sovereign on the other—a sovereign whom he had served long and faithfully, and who in turn had loaded him with princely benefactions. His domains in the Valley of the Mohawk were extensive; and his influence, through a large number of subordinate officers and a numerous tenantry, was correspondingly great. To the Indians, not only of the Six Nations but those far in the west beyond, who had fallen within the circle of his influence after the conquest of Canada and the subjugation of Pontiac, he had been as a father, and they looked up to him with veneration. Long association with him, and great Respect for his character—which, from its blunt honesty, frankness, and generosity, not altogether devoid of that roughness incident to a border population, was well calculated to secure the attachment of such people—had also given to his opinions the force of legal authority among the Colonists. The population, aside from the Indians, was chiefly Dutch, in the lower part of the Mohawk Valley; while in the interesting vale of the Schoharie Kill, and the upper district of the Mohawk, it was composed of the descendants of the German Palatinates, who had been planted there fifty years before. It was not at that period a very intelligent population; and the name of Sir William, who had been their friend and companion in peace, and their leader in war, like that of the King, was a tower of strength. It was very natural, therefore, that their opinions upon the great political questions then agitating the country, should take their complexion for the most part from those entertained by him. Hence, when the storm of civil war commenced, the Loyalists in that valley were probably more numerous, in proportion to the whole number of the population, than in almost any other section of the northern colonies.
In connexion with the troubles which every man of ordinary sagacity could not but perceive were fermenting, Sir William visited England for the last time in the Autumn of 1773, returning in the succeeding Spring. He probably came back with his loyal feelings somewhat strengthened. It was not his fortune, however, good or ill, to see the breaking out of the tempest, the near approaches of which he had been watching with an intenseness of observation corresponding with the magnitude of his own personal interests, which must necessarily be involved. He died suddenly, at Johnson Hall, on or about the 24th of June, 1774.
It was reported by his enemies,—or rather by the enemies of the Crown,—that he perished by his own hand, in consequence of the clouds which he saw darkening the political sky; and such an impression is yet very generally entertained. The tradition is, that on the day of his decease he had received despatches from England, which were handed to him while sitting in Court, and with which he immediately left the Court-house and walked to his own house. These despatches, it was afterward reported, contained instructions to him to use his influence with the Indians in behalf of the Crown, in the event of hostilities. Another version of the tradition is, that on the day in question he had received despatches from Boston, the complexion of which, in his own mind, indicated that a civil war was near and inevitable. In such an event he saw that he must either prove recreant to his principles, or take part against the Crown; and, to avoid either alternative, it has been extensively believed that he put an end to his life. [FN-1] But there is no just ground for this uncharitable conclusion. It is true that he had, on the evening of the 24th, received despatches from Massachusetts, the tenor of which, by excitement, may have hastened the malady to which his system was predisposed. It was a busy day at Johnstown. The Circuit Court was in session, at which, however, Sir William was not present, being engaged in holding a treaty with some of the Six Nations. In the course of his speech to the Indians on that occasion, he alluded to the despatches he had received, and stated to them that troubles were brewing between the Americans and their King—advising them not to abandon the cause of the latter, who had always been benevolent and kind to them. "Whatever may happen," said the Baronet, "you must not be shaken out of your shoes." [FN-2]
[FN-1] Mr. Campbell, in his "Annals," favors this opinion. He says—"There is something still mysterious connected with his death. He had been out to England, and returned the previous Spring. During a visit which he made shortly afterward to Mr. Campbell, an intimate friend of his at Schenectady, the conversation turned upon the subject of the disputes between the Colonies and the Mother Country. He then said, he should never live to see them in a state of open war."—Ann. p. 12.