Empires at War

by Jr. , William M. Fowler

  Unaware of what was going on behind him, Bradstreet continued his mission to Detroit. From Detroit he dispatched contingents to Michili­mackinac and Green Bay to reestablish the king's authority. News of his arrival spread quickly, and within a few days Indian delegations began to visit. On September 7, 1764, Bradstreet convened a general congress. The Indians assured him that their eyes had been opened and that they desired peace. Bradstreet in return granted them amnesty, again without exacting any penalty. Bradstreet's peace-without-penalty policy ran counter to the Crown's desire for revenge and won him few friends among his superiors. He returned along the lake to Sandusky, where he hoped to receive captives taken by the Indians. It was here that he learned that Delaware and Shawnee had attacked settlements to the south. Bradstreet made an attempt to move his men south, hoping to link with Bouquet, but low water in the creeks and long portages made it impossible. Instead he remained at Sandusky until October 18, when he and his army pushed off to return to Albany via Niagara and Oswego.

  While Bradstreet was stranded at Sandusky, Bouquet was advancing in his direction from Fort Pitt. Bouquet had lost weeks of precious time trying to recruit Pennsylvania and Virginia militia. Not even the promise of bounties for Indian scalps and the guarantee that they could elect their own officers seemed to move these frontiersmen to sign up. Finally, by the end of September he had fifteen hundred men under arms, militia as well as the regulars. On October 1 the column set off from Fort Pitt and headed downstream to the Muskingum River and thence north into Shawnee territory, encountering only light opposition.

  By the sixteenth Bouquet had reached the southern end of the portage between the Tuscarawas and Sandusky rivers. Here he met "Kiyaschuta, a chief of the Senecas,. . . Custaloga and Castor, chiefs of the Delawares and Keissenautchta, a chief of the Shawnee."32 As a gesture of peace, the Delaware chiefs presented Bouquet with eighteen white captives. When the chiefs spoke, they echoed what their brothers had said to Bradstreet: All the troubles could be blamed on the young men. Bouquet took their measure and then retired for four days before making his response. He upbraided them and declared that their excuses were "frivolous to the last degree." He would, he said, accept their offer of peace only if they returned all captives. Two days later Bouquet moved his army to Wakatomica on the Muskingum to await delivery of the captives. He waited nearly two weeks until "on the 9th of November, the Indians brought in most of their prisoners, consisting of thirty-two Virginia men and fifty-eight women and children; forty-nine Pennsylvania men, and sixty-seven women and children." Having fulfilled their part of the bargain, that afternoon the chiefs sat with Bouquet and presented him with a wampum belt as a sign of peace. "With this belt we assemble and bury the bones of those who have been killed in this unhappy war, which the evil spirit excited us to kindle."33

  Bouquet reported to Gage that he had "settled everything with the savages." 34 The following spring delegations arrived at Fort Pitt to sign formal treaties, and in June 1765 an expedition led by George Croghan made its way west to the Illinois country to talk with the western tribes and to find Pontiac. At Fort Ouiatenon Croghan deceived Pontiac by agreeing publicly to the chief's position that no matter what the French and English agreed between them they did not own the land but were tenants of the Indians. Not for a minute did Croghan, Gage, or the ministers in London doubt their absolute right to land claimed by the Crown and "deeded" by the Indians. Croghan's negotiations with Pontiac were only preliminary. Any final agreement needed the assent of William Johnson, and so Croghan invited Pontiac to travel with him first to Detroit and then later to Oswego for a meeting with Warraghiyagey. At Detroit the same promises of peace were exchanged. As the meeting adjourned, Pontiac agreed that he would come to Oswego for the grand peace in the summer.

  True to his word, Pontiac came to Oswego on July 4, 1766. Chiefs of the Ottawa, Pottawatomie, Huron, and Chippewa accompanied him. Johnson, whose health had suffered considerably, did not arrive until the twenty-third, joined by chiefs of the Six Nations. According to Johnson, these people had lived in "a state of doubts and apprehensions" since the "reduction of Canada." They had been mistreated by the English, many of them had been murdered, and their land had been stolen. In desperation "their young men . . . quick of resentment . . . are ready to begin war without looking forward to its consequences."35 The council lasted nine days, with one day lost for "bad weather." Johnson and the chiefs spoke and exchanged belts and gifts. The "Western Nations" embraced the "chain of Friendship" with their new father. On the thirty-first Pontiac bade Johnson farewell and asked him to keep open the "Road to Peace." Pontiac played his last important role at Oswego. Jealous of his power, perhaps angry that he had led them toward a war that they could not win, leaders of the western tribes turned on him. Shortly after Johnson left for home, Captain Norman McLeod, an officer at Fort Ontario, reported to him that a French trader from Detroit "offered to lay me a bet that Pontiac would be killed in less than a year. "36

  Pontiac returned to his home on the Maumee River. The west remained uneasy. Rumors of Indian uprisings and conspiracies spread unabated, fueled by the occasional kidnapping and murder. Pontiac's name was often linked to these incidents, but in truth his authority and influence had virtually disappeared. On April 20, 1769, Pontiac entered the store of Baynton, Wharton, and Morgan in Cahokia. He engaged in friendly conversation with a Peoria Indian at the counter and left the store. The Peoria followed Pontiac into the street and without warning clubbed him from behind and then stabbed him.

  News of Pontiac's assassination spread quickly, and so did the conspiracy theories, most alleging some sort of British involvement. Nothing was proved, and to the surprise of nearly everyone, neither the Ottawa nor other western tribes made any attempt at revenge. For the first time in more than a decade, the frontier was relatively quiet as the British moved to consolidate their power and the Indians waited and watched.

  *Near present-day Prairie de Rocher, Illinois.

  Epilogue

  Pontiac's concession to William Johnson at Oswego marked the completion of the Conquest. The great Ottawa chief had been the last obstacle to British victory. The French were defeated. The southern tribes had sued for peace, and the Iroquois were reconciled. Victory had come at a great cost. The forces of England, France, and their allies fought on virtually every continent. Thousands of soldiers had died in Europe, and many thousands more fell in America, Africa, and India. Never before had nations warred on such a vast scale. It was the first world war. England triumphed, and its war leaders laid at the feet of their sovereign vast new territories nearly twenty times the size of the British Isles. Not even Rome's legions had conquered so well and so quickly. A war that had began accidentally, and without a plan, ended with grand consequences.

  In the aftermath of victory Britain faced several daunting challenges, particularly in North America. It needed to consolidate its gains, implement new governing structures, and find the financial resources to pay off a huge national debt as well as to support the ongoing costs of defending and administering its vastly expanded empire.

  To consolidate and govern his new territory in North America, on October 7, 1763, the king issued a proclamation. In this hastily and carelessly drawn document he divided the new conquests into "four distinct and separate Governments, styled and called by the names of Quebec, East Florida, West Florida and Grenada." Bounds for each respected, for the most part, the historic lines long associated with them. Quebec's boundaries were define das follows:

  Bounded on the Labrador Coast by the River St. John and from thence by a Line drawn from the Head of that River through the Lake St. John to the south end of the Lake Nipissing; from whence the said Line, crossing the River St. Lawrence, and the Lake Champlain in 45 Degrees of North Latitude, passes along the High Lands which divide the Rivers that empty themselves into the said River St. Lawrence from those which fall into the Sea; and also along the North Coast of the Baye des Chaleurs, and the Coast of the Gulph of S
t. Lawrence by the West End of the Island of Anticosti, terminates at the aforesaid River of St. John.

  The islands of St. Jean (Prince Edward Island) and Isle Royale (Cape Breton) were attached to Nova Scotia.

  Of the four territories, Quebec was by far the largest and most heavily populated and virtually all French. The Treaty of Paris had guaranteed Quebecers their religion and lands. By the proclamation the king's new subjects were also promised "Royal Protection for the Enjoyment of the Benefit of the Laws of our Realm of England." They would have access to all "Courts of Judicature and public justice" and enjoy the right of appeal to the Privy Council*

  Having carved out these new colonies and dealt with their European inhabitants, the king proceeded to announce a new and far more controversial measure addressing land settlement and Indians. He ordered that "no Governor or Commander in Chief in any of our . . . Colonies or Plantations in America do presume for the present, and until our further Pleasure be known, to grant Warrants or Survey, or pass Patents for any Lands beyond the Heads or Sources of any of the Rivers which fall into the Atlantic Ocean from the West and North West, or upon any Lands whatever, which, not having been ceded to or purchased by Us aforesaid, are reserved to the said Indians, or any of them." By this order the king, for the moment at least, slammed the door on westward expansion.

  Although Pontiac's rebellion added impetus to issuing this proclamation, it was not the sole cause. Since the surrender of Canada in 1760, British officials, particularly William Johnson, had been wrestling with the problem of how to manage Indian relations in these new lands. It was common knowledge, as the king himself wrote in the proclamation, that for years "great Frauds and Abuses have been committed in purchasing Lands of the Indians." Allowing settlers and speculators to cross into these new lands was certain to produce conflict. Pontiac's rebellion was simply a harbinger. Johnson helped convince the Board of Trade that, for reasons of justice and economy, closing these lands "for the present" was in everyone's best interest.

  King George III of England

  The proclamation line placed the imperial government in an impossible situation. The king's ministers in distant London stood as the guardians of Indian interests and the arbiter between those nations and an emerging American nation. Neither side trusted the other, and both were suspicious of the Crown. For colonial Americans, closing the west was tantamount to being shut out from the Garden of Eden. The war in America had begum over land. Like the Indians in the war who often found themselves prevented by their European allies from enjoying the spoils of battle, the colonials began to feel that they too were being denied their just desserts. How could the proclamation be reconciled with existing legal claims based upon colonial charters? Valid land titles existed beyond the line. Could they be extinguished without due process of law? What of the thousands of settlers, including hundreds of French, who already lived beyond the line? Confusion and controversy marked the issue of land claims before the war. The king's proclamation made a bad situation infinitely worse. It also antagonized a significant number of prominent men, among them George Washington and his fellow investors in the Ohio Company.

  While the Lords of Trade struggled with the question of land, the exchequer was swimming in a sea of debt. In peacetime annual government expenditures ran in the neighborhood of £2.5 million. By 1761 that number had risen to more than £19 million. Along with a variety of other levies, the chief source of income, the land tax, had doubled to the extraordinarily high rate of 20 percent. Taxpayers, landowners in particular, pressed for relief. One possibility was to share the burden and levy taxes in America. Although there had been occasional discussions about such a policy, no one in government wished to face the political firestorm they knew it would ignite.

  Despite the exchequer's best efforts, tax revenue could not keep pace with the war's rapacious appetite for money. The only alternative was to borrow, so that by the end of the war the national debt stood at a record £140 million. Through it all, however, thanks to the fiscal acumen of the men around Newcastle, the government's credit rating remained firm. Every loan was fully subscribed.

  Peace brought hope to weary English taxpayers. As the burdens grew heavier during the war, they had been consoled by the belief that peace and victory would relieve them. The end of the war would mean a return to a more normal level of expenditures, and victory would bring the empire new lands and trade to tax. Landowners expected relief, and for this they looked to George Grenville, the new chancellor of the exchequer.

  A seasoned politician, Grenville had once been an ally of Pitt's, but with the accession of George III and the rise of Bute he shifted his allegiance toward the Crown and Bute, "the Favorite." In April 1763, following the completion of the peace, Grenville took office as first lord of the treasury and chancellor of the exchequer. To him fell the enormous task of preparing the first postwar budget.

  On March 9, 1764, Commons assembled to hear Grenville's fiscal plan. By then the chimera of a return to modest peacetime expenditures had evaporated. The issue was not how to reduce taxes but where to find new revenue. Grenville spoke "for two hours and forty minutes . . . with more art than sincerity."1 He proposed a series of duties, which for the first time aimed at raising revenue in America. These included levying new or higher duties on textiles, coffee, and Madeira wine, as well as doubling duties on foreign goods entering via England. His program provided for a reduction in the sugar duty but at the same time put in place new legal mechanisms to ensure that the duty would in fact be collected. The next day Parliament approved Grenville's proposals, but fearing that even these measures might not answer the need for more revenue, the members added a resolution declaring that "it maybe proper to charge certain stamp duties in the said colonies and plantations."2

  Parliament was setting off on a new and dangerous course. Nonetheless, few in the body dissented. Having witnessed the disagreeable behavior of the colonials during the war, and now facing the ongoing costs incurred in defending them, most agreed with an anonymous adviser to the ministry who wrote that "it may be time (not to oppress or injure them in any shape) but to exact a due deference to the just and equitable demands of a British parliament."3

  By insisting on collecting American revenue and at the same time denying America access to the west, the government in London had managed to take a broad swipe at a significant number of interests, including land speculators, settlers, traders, merchants, and seafarers. These, of course, were only the first of many "obnoxious" measures that succeeding governments would take, eventually rising to a mass critical enough to cause revolution. British attempts at evenhandedness, that is, asking colonials to contribute to the costs of empire and protecting the Indians from land-hungry whites, did not go over well in America.

  For the Indians, however, the concentration of power in the hands of imperial authority provided a semblance of hope. Whatever their own racial biases, John Stuart and William Johnson were far more interested in the well-being of the native peoples under their charge than were local officials in New York, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and the Carolinas. Their offices answered to a distant king and his ministers whose sympathies were often with the native peoples. When Johnson wrote to the Board of Trade suggesting that Pontiac's rebellion was a result of General Amherst's policy of treating the Indians with "indifference and neglect," they responded, "We do entirely agree with you in opinion as to the causes of this unhappy defection [Pontiac's rebellion] of the Indians and are convinced that nothing but the speedy establishment of some well digested and general plan for the regulation of our Commercial and political concerns with them can effectually reconcile their esteem and affections."4

  Any "general plan" that gained Indian "esteem and affections" was virtually certain to challenge colonial interests. England's attempt to regulate land settlement, manage trade with the Indians, and raise an American revenue stream all required that the government in London exercise greater authority in the colonies. Their aims were rati
onal and just, but in the face of a growing sense of self-identity and separateness within the colonies, what the ministers in London sought to achieve was both impossible and incendiary. The loud clamor of the victory bells drowned out the voices from America urging caution and restraint. For a dozen more years, king and Parliament struggled to find a solution to the problems heaped upon them in 1763. During those years ministries came and went with an alarming frequency as they tried to deal with the consequences of 1763. Relations with the American colonies deteriorated as demands from London for an American revenue met resistance. Dispatch of troops to enforce unpopular laws sparked violence. Barely a dozen years after Englishmen and Americans had rejoiced together in victory, they were at war with one another.

  By their revolution Americans succeeded in gaining independence and forming a new nation. In Canada, too, independence was eventually achieved and a new nation emerged, albeit more slowly and without a war. Indians were less fortunate. By the time of Pontiac's assassination Indian power east of the Mississippi was crumbling. To be sure both the Cherokee and the Iroquois, the two principal nations, remained; nonetheless, their future depended squarely upon the sufferance of a new imperial/colonial dynamic.

  The scene of surrender played out at Montreal in 1760 between Amherst and the Iroquois was repeated, with a different cast, again and again in the west as the British war machine crushed any warrior rebellion. Abandoned by their French allies, the natives had no choice but to yield, comforted by the promise that as long as they submitted to the king's authority they could remain on their lands. Even that small concession, however, was only temporary. Peace lasted for barely a decade, shattered by a revolution that gave birth to a new nation whose citizens hungered for land and cared little for native rights of ownership. Americans advanced quickly westward across the Appalachian barrier into lands previously guaranteed to the natives by the Crown. By every means, fair and foul, the new republican rulers took their homes. In less than a half century after the creation of the United States, Indians east of the Mississippi were nearly all gone—"removed" to land across the river where they might stay forever and be forgotten.