Chapter 12

With great difficulty Major Adams reached the opposite bank in safety. The paths leading from the ford into the swamp that lay between the Indian village and the river were so numerous that the stout-hearted scout hardly knew which one to take. He chose one almost at random, and, after following it through the thick underbrush, he found that it had led him some distance below the village. He followed the margin of the swamp back again, and soon found himself in the outskirts of the village. There he paused to listen. A dog somewhere in the settlement barked uneasily and sleepily.

Pushing forward, but moving with the utmost caution, Major Adams soon found himself in the center of the village. In every hut the Indians were sleeping; and, in addition to these, the ground seemed to be covered with warriors, who lay stretched out and snoring, their rifles and tomahawks within easy reach. The brave Georgian went through the village from one end to the other. Once a huge Indian, near whom he was passing, raised himself on his elbow, grasped his gun, and looked carefully in every direction. Having satisfied himself, he lay down, and was soon snoring again. Fortunately, Major Adams had seen the Indian stir, and sank to the ground near a group of sleeping warriors, where he remained until he was sure the savage was asleep.

He had examined every point of attack and defense in the village, and was returning to the river, when he saw a pony tethered to a sapling. Thinking that the little animal would be able to find the ford without trouble, and could thus be used as a safe guide, Major Adams resolved to capture it. He approached the pony with that intention, but not until too late did he discover that it had a bell hung on its neck. The pony, frightened at the sight of a white man, broke the rope by which he was tied, and went scampering through the village, arousing and alarming warriors, squaws, children, and dogs with the jingling bell.

At the sound of the bell, Major Adams knew that there would be a tremendous uproar in the village, and he made an instant rush toward the river, but soon found himself entangled in the briers and thick underbrush of the swamp. It was fortunate that he missed the path leading to the ford; for a party of Indians ran in that direction, either to catch the pony, or to find out whether they were about to be attacked. Some of them passed within a few feet of the spot where Major Adams stood.

In a short time the Indians returned to the village, and it was not long before everything was as quiet and as peaceful as before the uproar. Major Adams, instead of hunting for the path, made his way directly to the river, slipped into the water, and swam straight across to the opposite bank. He soon found his men, and told them of his adventure and of the plans he had matured. Up to this moment he had been second in command. A colonel of militia was with the party, and it was his right to be the leader of the expedition; but now the men declared that they would cross the river under the leadership of no one but Adams. It was Adams or nobody; and the militia colonel, as gracefully as he could, yielded to the demand.

Major Adams led the volunteers safely across the treacherous ford and into the Indian town. The surprise was complete. Scarcely a warrior escaped. The women and children were spared as far as possible, but the village was burned to the ground. In retreating from that point, which was the center of the famous Muscogee nation, Major Adams made long marches during the day, and camped without fires at night, and in this way brought his command out of the Indian country without the loss of a man.

But Adams's excursion to the center of the Muscogee (or Creek) nation did not settle matters. The troubles continued. The temper of the people was not improved by the efforts of the United States Government to take affairs into its own hands. In some instances the agents of the General Government sought to stir up active strife between the people of the State and the Indians, and it was their habit to belittle the State government by speaking of it contemptuously before the Indians. In many instances the United States stepped in between the agents of the State and the Indians, and prevented settlements and treaties that would have been of lasting benefit to both the whites and the Indians. This was not due to any purpose or desire of the General Government to trample on the rights of the State, but grew altogether out of the folly of the agents, who wanted to put on airs and advertise their importance.

In 1796 there was a treaty of peace arranged between the Creek nation and the United States. Three commissioners represented the General Government, and Georgia also had three present; but the business was conducted without regard to the wishes of the Georgia commissioners, and, as the commissioners thought, without regard to the interests of the State. Seagrove was the name of the agent representing the General Government at that time, and his attitude toward Georgia was not calculated to give the Indians any respect for the commonwealth. After the treaty was signed, General James Jackson, on the part of Georgia, made an eloquent speech, in which he showed that the Creeks had not faithfully observed the treaties they had made with the State. He exhibited two schedules of property which they had stolen, amounting in value to $110,000, and demanded its restoration. When General Jackson had concluded, one of the prominent chiefs of the Creeks remarked that he could fill more paper than Jackson showed with a list of outrages of the Georgians upon his people. There was something more than a grain of truth in this; but on that very account the Indians and the Georgians should have been allowed to settle their difficulties in their own way, without the interference of the United States.

The result of the treaty at Coleraine, in 1796, was, that the Georgia agents were offended with Seagrove (the Indian agent for the United States), offended with the Indians, and displeased with the United States commissioners. To these last the Georgians presented a protest in which the Federal commissioners were accused of disregarding the interests of Georgia. Charges were brought against Seagrove, who, it was claimed, had influenced the Creeks not to cede the lands as far as the Ocmulgee. A bitter controversy grew out of this. It was, in fact, very nearly the beginning of the discussion that has continued from that day to this, in some shape or other, over the rights of the States and the power of the General Government. Pickett, in his "History of Alabama and Georgia," says that General Jackson, and Seagrove the Indian agent, became enemies, and afterwards fought a duel.

Other treaties were made with the Creeks up to 1806, but all these were violated when the Indians became the allies of the British during the War of 1812. It is only fair to the Indians to say that the leader in whom they placed the greatest confidence was a man who for many years nourished hot resentment against the United States, and especially against Georgia. This man was General Alexander McGillivray, who became famous as an opponent of the Americans and the Georgians in all their efforts to come to a just, fair, and peaceable understanding with the Creeks.

As has been stated, when the War of 1812 began, the Creeks became the allies of the British, and the attacks they made on the unprotected settlements were so numerous and so serious as to call for some action on the part of the General Government. In September, 1813, Congress called for a levy of Georgia troops, and, the State authorities ordered 3,600 men to assemble at Camp Hope, near Fort Hawkins, on the Ocmulgee River. The ruins of Fort Hawkins may be seen to this day on the Ocmulgee, in the city of Macon.

The men who assembled at Camp Hope were volunteers, and all eager for service. The command of this force fell to General John Floyd, who made haste to take charge, and endeavored to make arrangements for taking the field at once. He found his men assembled according to orders, and all anxious to be led against the hostile Indians. But the little army could not march. The Federal Government had failed to supply the necessary funds. What is called "red tape" stood in the way of prompt action. A dispute arose. Federal officials placed the blame on the contractors who were to furnish supplies, and the contractors placed it on the officials, who had failed to furnish the necessary money. While this dispute was raging, General Floyd, who was a brave and gallant spirit, applied to the State Legislature, then in session, for a loan of $20,000. The request was granted, and he was able to equip his troops, procure supplies, and march into the country of the Creeks, by the middle or latter part of November.

Meanwhile the hostile Creeks had already challenged Georgia and begun their attack. On the 30th of August, seven hundred and twenty-five Creek Indians attacked Fort Mims on the Chattahoochee. The attack was as sudden as it was unexpected. It was made at twelve o'clock in the day, and the inmates of the fort were taken entirely by surprise. The savages massacred nearly three hundred men, women, and children in the most cruel manner. This horrible outrage spread consternation on the frontier, and aroused indignation in all parts of the country. Hundreds of frontier settlers fled from their homes, and sought safety in the more thickly settled regions.

It was owing to this massacre that the troops commanded by General Floyd were called out. This active and energetic leader began his campaign by building a line of forts and blockhouses from the Ocmulgee to the Alabama River, and in this way completely protected the northern part of the State from invasion by the Creeks. General Floyd accomplished this work in spite of the failure of the United States officials to supply with provisions and transportation the troops they had called out.

He completed his line of defense by building Fort Mitchell. Leaving a sufficient garrison in this fort, General Floyd placed himself at the head of nine hundred and fifty men, and marched on Autossee, one of the most populous towns of the Creek nation, situated on the left bank of the Tallapoosa River, and near the town of Tallassee, which was nearly as large. The distance from Fort Mitchell to Autossee was sixty miles, and General Floyd made it by forced night marches, resting his troops during the day. He was accompanied on this expedition by General William Mcintosh, the famous Indian chief, who led four hundred friendly Creeks.

Arriving at Autossee and Tallassee at daybreak on the 29th of November, 1813, General Floyd arranged and ordered a simultaneous attack on both towns. By nine o'clock the Indians had been defeated and driven from the towns, and their houses burned. Four hundred houses were burned, with all the provisions and stock. Two hundred Indians were killed, including the kings of both towns. The pipe which the old chief of Tallassee had smoked at a treaty forty years before, was taken and presented to the governor, who placed it in the executive office of the State Capitol. Eleven whites were killed, and fifty-four wounded; among them, General Floyd himself, who had received a ball in the knee early in the fight. He refused to have his wound dressed, and continued on horseback, directing his troops, until after the battle was over. He never entirely recovered from the effects of this wound. After the towns had been entirely destroyed, the troops returned to Fort Mitchell, having marched a hundred and twenty miles in bitter cold weather, and fought a severe engagement on five days' provisions.

In January, 1814, General Floyd heard that the Upper Creeks had collected in great force at the Indian town of Hothlewaulee. By that time his wound had so far healed that he was able to ride a horse, and he determined to make an attack on the town. For this purpose he detached from the troops at Fort Mitchell a force of fifteen hundred men. The weather was cold, and the winter rains had so obstructed the roads that the troops found the march a weary and a difficult one; but they pressed on, nevertheless, cheered by the energy and enthusiasm of their gallant leader. They marched to within fifteen or twenty miles of the town, and there encamped. Between midnight and day a large body of Indians, led by the warrior Weather-ford and Colonel Woodbine, an English officer, attacked General Floyd's camp. His troops were taken by surprise, but they were not demoralized. They had been fighting for six months, and were seasoned to all the dangers of Indian warfare. Above all, they had a leader who possessed in a wonderful degree a genius for war.

No sooner had the alarm been sounded than General Floyd rallied his little army, formed it in a square, the baggage in the center, and held the savages at bay until daylight. There was no faltering in any part of the line or on any side of the square. The dauntless courage of Floyd himself seemed to control every man, down to the humblest private. When day dawned, a charge was sounded, and Floyd's troops drove the Indians before them at the point of the bayonet. Within a quarter of an hour after the charge was made, the battle was won. The loss of the Indians was never discovered, as they had an opportunity to carry off their killed and wounded up to the moment the charge was sounded. Seventeen Georgians were killed, and a hundred and thirty-two wounded. Floyd's camp was known as Camp Defiance, but in the official report the fight is called the battle of Chalibbee. The attack was made on Floyd in order to prevent a junction between his troops and those of General Andrew Jackson, who was fighting the Indians in the lower part of Alabama. The result of the fight made a junction unnecessary; and shortly afterwards the term for which Floyd's Georgia troops had enlisted expired, and they were discharged.

In 1814, when peace was declared between the United States and Great Britain, the Creeks remained quiet for some time.

TWO FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS.

Among the Indian leaders who made Georgia the scene of their operations, the most celebrated were General Alexander McGillivray and General William Mcintosh. If these men had been born and brought up among the whites, both of them would have won lasting renown. They possessed the energy and the genius: all they lacked was the opportunity to direct their gifts into channels that would have benefited humanity.

Alexander McGillivray was one of the most remarkable men of his time, whether we regard him as a leader of the Indians or simply as an individual. His father, Lachlan McGillivray, being a lad of adventurous turn, ran away from a home in Scotland where he enjoyed all the advantages and comforts that wealth could give him, took passage on a ship bound for South Carolina, and shortly afterwards landed at Charleston. Wandering about in that city, and enjoying the sights that were new to his experience, he soon found himself in the suburbs of the city. There he found the headquarters of the Indian traders, who came to Charleston with their pack horses to carry merchandise of all kinds to the red men. One of these traders persuaded young McGillivray to go with him. His Scotch eye and mind were quick to appreciate the possibilities of this new business, and in a few years he became one of the most enterprising and prosperous of the Indian traders. He pushed his trade farther than any of his predecessors had ever dared to go. He went, indeed, to the neighborhood of Fort Toulouse. A few miles above that fort, where Wetumpka, Ala., now stands, he met Sehoy Marchand, a beautiful girl of about sixteen years. This girl was the daughter of Captain Marchand, who had commanded at Fort Toulouse, but who had been killed by his own soldiers in August, 1722. The soldiers rose against the officers of the garrison on account of the failure of France to forward money and supplies to the troops in her American settlement. The girl's mother was a Creek woman of the tribe of The Wind, the most powerful and influential family in the Creek nation. The young Scotchman fell in love with the dark-haired maiden, and she fell in love with the blue-eyed Scotchman, with his fair skin and red hair. Lachlan McGillivray built him a trading house on the Coosa, not far away, and soon married Sehoy, and carried her home. He became very wealthy. He owned two plantations on the Savannah River, which were well stocked with negroes, and stores filled with merchandise in both Savannah and Augusta. When Lachlan McGillivray's son Alexander reached the age of fourteen, he was carried to Savannah and placed at school, and in a few years was made a clerk in a counting-house at Savannah.

But the humdrum business of buying, selling, and adding up long rows of tiresome figures, did not please him, and so he neglected his duties to read books, mainly histories. His father, taking the advice of friends, placed young Alexander under the tutorship of a clergyman in Charleston, where the lad learned Latin and Greek, and in that way became well grounded in what our dear old grandfathers called polite literature. But one day word came to the young man that the chiefs of the Creek nation, who were getting into trouble with the people of Georgia, were waiting for the moment when he, as a descendant of the tribe of The Wind, should return and take charge of the affairs of the nation. So he departed suddenly from Charleston, and turned his horse's head toward the wilderness.

On his way to the Creek nation, he fell in with Leclerc Mil-fort, an adventurous Frenchman, who afterwards wrote a book of travels, and was made a general of brigade by Napoleon. Milfort married one of McGillivray's sisters, was made Tustenug-gee (or grand war chief), and was the right-hand man of his powerful brother-in-law. The first that was heard of McGillivray after he left Charleston, he was presiding at a grand national council of the Creeks at the town of Coweta on the Chattahoochee. When Alexander arrived among the Creeks, Colonel Tait of the British army was stationed on the Coosa, and he used all his tact and influence to prevail upon the young man to take the side of the English in the war that was then going on between the Colonies and the mother country. To this end Colonel Tait pursued McGillivray with attentions, loaded him with favors, and finally caused him to be given the rank and pay of a colonel in the army. The result was that the great chief was throughout the war devoted to the cause of the British. This would have been natural in any event, for his father was a stanch Royalist. During the war, McGillivray frequently acted in concert with the notorious Daniel McGirth, sometimes leading his Indians in person; but his main dependence was on his brother-in-law Milfort, who was possessed of the most daring spirit. McGillivray preferred to plan and engage in intrigue, which gave the remarkable powers of his mind full play.

There is no doubt that the authorities of Georgia made a great mistake, after the war, in neglecting to win the friendship of McGillivray. Such a course would have prevented much suffering and bloodshed. The father of the great chief, Lachlan McGillivray, was living in Savannah at the close of the Revolution; and when the British were compelled to evacuate the city, he scraped together an immense amount of money and other valuables, and sailed for Scotland. He abandoned his plantations and negroes, in the hope that his wife and three children might be permitted to inherit them; but the Georgians confiscated the whole of the valuable estate, and thus the Creek leader had another reason for entertaining a bitter prejudice against the Whigs.

The result was, that until the day of his death, which occurred in 1792, he succeeded in baffling all the efforts of the Federal and State authorities to come to an understanding with the Creek nation. He was perhaps the most accomplished diplomat in the country,--a veritable Talleyrand, able to cope with the most distinguished statesmen among the Americans. Such of his letters as have been preserved do not suffer by comparison with the writings of even the greatest of the Americans. The most of these depended on a stately and scholarly diction to attract attention. McGillivray paid little regard to diction; but his letters possess the distinction of style, and in this particular but one American writer can be compared to him,--Benjamin Franklin. There is, in fact, a modern touch and flavor about McGillivray's letters that even the writings of Franklin do not possess. He wrote thus to Andrew Pickens, who had addressed him on behalf of the United States Government:--

"When we found that the American independence was confirmed by the peace, we expected that the new government would soon have taken some steps to make up the differences that subsisted between them and the Indians during the war, to have taken them under their protection and confirmed to them their hunting grounds. Such a course would have reconciled the minds of the Indians, and secured the States their friendship, as they considered your people their natural allies. The Georgians, whose particular interest it was to conciliate the friendship of this nation, have acted in all respects to the contrary. I am sorry to observe that violence and prejudice have taken the place of good policy and reason in all their proceedings with us. They attempted to avail themselves of our supposed distressed situation. Their talks to us breathed nothing but vengeance, and, being entirely possessed with the idea that we were wholly at their mercy, they never once reflected that colonies of a powerful monarch were nearly surrounding us, to whom, in any extremity, we might apply for succor and protection, and who, to answer some ends of their policy, might grant it to us. However, we yet deferred any such proceeding, still expecting that we could bring them to a true sense of their interest; but still finding no alteration in their conduct towards us, we sought the protection of Spain, and treaties of friendship and alliance were mutually entered into; they guaranteeing our hunting grounds and territory, and granting us a free trade in the ports of the Floridas.

"How the boundary and limits between the Spaniards and the States will be determined, a little time will show, as I believe that matter is now on foot. However, we know our limits and the extent of our hunting grounds. As a free nation, we have applied, as we had a right to do, for protection, and obtained it. We shall pay no attention to any limits that may prejudice our claims, that were drawn by an American and confirmed by a British negotiator. Yet, notwithstanding we have been obliged to adopt these measures for our preservation, and from real necessity, we sincerely wish to have it in our power to be on the same footing with the States as before the late unhappy war, to effect which is entirely in your power. We want nothing from you but justice. We want our hunting grounds preserved from encroachments. They have been ours from the beginning of time, and I trust that, with the assistance of our friends, we shall be able to maintain them against every attempt to take them from us."