The Mi'kmaq Anthology

by Lesley Choyce

  WHEREAS, notwithstanding the gracious offers of friendship and protection made in His Majesty’s Name by us to the Indians inhabiting this Province, The Micmacs have of late in a most treacherous manner taken 20 of His Majesty’s Subjects prisoners at Canso, and carried off a sloop belonging to Boston, and a boat from this Settlement and at Chinecto basely and under pretence of friendship and commerce. Attempted to seize two English Sloops and murder their crews and actually killed several, and on Saturday the 30th of September, a body of these savages fell upon some men cutting wood and without arms near the saw mill and barbarously killed four and carried one away.

  FOR, those causes we by and with the advice and consent of His Majesty’s Council, do hereby authorize and command all Officers Civil and Military, and all His Majesty’s Subjects or others to annoy, distress, take or destroy the Savage commonly called Micmac, wherever they are found, and all as such as aiding and assisting them, give further by and with the consent and advice of His Majesty’s Council, do promise a reward of ten Guineas for every Indian Micmac taken or killed, to be paid upon producing such Savage taken or his scalp (as in the custom of America) if killed to the Officer Commanding at Halifax, Annapolis Royal, or Minas.

  Thus began the slaughter of unknown numbers of innocent men, women, and children.

  At a cost to His Majesty’s colonial government’s treasury of ten guineas per head, and at a cost to his servants of their immortal souls, an exercise to bring the Mi’kmaq into extinction was under way. It was an action that no civilized nation can countenance, nor should any nation that undertook this deed be called civilized.

  Lord Cornwallis gives the impression that the Mi’kmaq attacks he lists in his ungodly proclamation were unprovoked assaults upon innocent human beings. This is not so. Many gross provocations were committed against the Mi’kmaq on a regular basis. For example, before and after the Treaty of Aix-la-Chappelle, the colonial government had employed Gorham’s New England Rangers to scour the colony and hunt down and kill any Mi’kmaq they found. The slaughter was indiscriminate — women, children, unborn babies, the old, the infirm, were all victims.

  In contrast, although there were individual exceptions, the Mi’kmaq conducted themselves in a relatively humane and civilized manner during this trying period. The prisoners they took were generally turned over to the French at Louisbourg and later released. There is very little evidence, even in the face of the horrific assault upon their own civilian population, to support any contention that the Mi’kmaq Nation ever engaged in committing organized atrocities against British civilians.

  Lord Cornwallis provides further proof of his insincerity and treachery towards the Mi’kmaq in a letter he wrote to the Lords of Trade, in which he requests their retroactive approval for actions he had already initiated against their Nation:

  When I first arrived, I made known to these Micmac, His gracious Majesty’s intentions of cultivating Amity and Friendship with them, exhorting them to assemble their Tribes, that I would treat with them, and deliver the presents the King my Master had sent them, they seemed well inclined, some keeping amongst us trafficking and well pleased; no sooner was the evacuation of Louisbourg made and De Lutre the French Missionary sent among them, they vanished and have not been with us since.

  The Saint John’s Indians I made peace with, and am glad to find by your Lordships letter of the first of August, it is agreeable to your way of thinking their making submission to the King before I would treat with them, as the Articles are word for word the same as the Treaty you sent me, made at Casco Bay, 1725, and confirmed at Annapolis, 1726. I intend if possible to keep up a good correspondence with the Saint John’s Indians, a warlike people, tho’ Treaties with Indians are nothing, nothing but force will prevail.

  In this memo, Governor Cornwallis takes liberty with the truth. When he first arrived, the Mi’kmaq were probably under the impression that he had come to make peace, not to set up another settlement. The disappearance of the Mi’kmaq from the site Halifax was founded upon, which occurred at the same time the British were evacuating Louisbourg, was probably related to the fact that his emissaries had met with the Mi’kmaq chiefs in Cape Breton to inform them that his majesty’s government claimed all the land in the province as its own.

  Therefore, the reason for their disappearance from the scene was quite obvious: the English were taking over ancestral lands without permission. To the Mi’kmaq this was an act of war that required a response. Thus, they attacked many English targets, including military, shipping, and trade. In view of the statements made by Cornwallis, the Mi’kmaq had no alternative.

  For Cornwallis to state that treaties with Indians were “nothing” is a further condemnation of him and his government. To promote an impression of honour and good faith in dealing with another nation’s citizens while at the same time having no intention to act in such a manner is a clear indication of corrupt personal, ethical, and moral standards. There is no honourable justification for such conduct.

  The Lords of Trade responded to Cornwallis’s letter in a memo dated February 16, 1750. They were not overly enthusiastic about the course of action he had chosen, for they cautioned thus:

  As to the measures which you have already taken for reducing the Indians, we entirely approve them, and wish you may have success, but as it has been found by experience in other parts of America, that the gentler methods and offers of peace have more frequently prevailed with Indians than the sword, if at the same times that the sword is held over their heads, offers of peace and friendship were tendered to them, the one might be the means of inducing them to accept the other, but as you have had experience of the disposition and sentiments of these Savages you will be better able to judge whether measures of peace will be effectual or not; if you should find that they will not, we do not in the least doubt your vigour and activity in endeavouring to reduce them by force.

  The Lords of Trade also had other worries about Cornwallis’s officially sanctioned bounty hunt on humans, the principal one being that “by filling the minds of bordering Indians with ideas of our cruelty” they might instigate a general continental war. But this worry that the Tribes of the continent might unite and conduct a joint war against the British was based upon a preposterous notion. To see the Tribes of the Americas organized into one united offensive force was as about farfetched as seeing the Tribes of Europe united into one fighting force.

  It has often been said that the cruelties inflicted upon the Mi’kmaq and other Tribes in the Americas were, for the most part, local acts of depravity by colonial officialdom and not acts sanctioned by the European Crowns themselves. However, the Lords of Trade proved that contention to be wrong. These policymakers for the British government did not rescind or condemn his inhuman policy but offered instead their conditional support. By this acceptance and support of his unspeakable deeds they implicated the British Crown itself in the crime of human genocide.

  All evidence leads one to the conclusion that the use of terrorism to influence nations and individuals to accept English dictates was the policy of the British government during this period of time. For instance, the taking and holding of Native American hostages in both times of war and peace was a widely practised and officially condoned method of terrorism utilized by the British officers who commanded forts in the Americas.

  In their efforts to bring the Mi’kmaq to a satisfactory state of subservience, the British were confirming by their inhuman actions the fears the French had expressed in 1748 that the Mi’kmaq would not be safe if they were to come under British rule. During this period the French were forced by the provisions of the Aix-la-Chapelle Treaty to stand by and watch as their allies were being hunted down and killed like wild prey by Gorham’s Rangers.

  Some argue that there is no evidence that money changed hands or was paid out by governments in relationship to the scalping proclamations. Two things make a lie of this argument.

  First, Gorham’s Rangers, composed of some of
the most bloodthirsty individuals ever collected into one group, made their living from enforcing proclamations of the colonial governments. These killers were sent from the Massachusetts Bay colony to carry out the intention of the Governor’s evil proclamation and found the going lucrative enough to spend a least two years at one stretch in the colony.

  Second, the practice was so widespread that many used it to supplement their incomes. Even after the proclamation was rescinded in 1752, many of the colonials still thought it was in effect and tried to collect the bounties. In one reprehensible case played out in 1753 two men who had been rescued by the Mi’kmaq from a shipwreck returned the kindness by murdering six members of the family that had saved them, including a mother and her new born babe. They then brought the scalps back to Halifax to collect the bounty they thought was still being offered. They were never prosecuted for their horrendous crime.

  No one can truly justify or make excuses for the actions of the governments of Nova Scotia in 1744 and 1749 — in issuing all-inclusive proclamations for the extermination of men, women, and children. These barbarous acts of so-called “responsible governments” cannot be easily forgiven and should never be forgotten.

  Some individuals who committed their thoughts to writing during this period have hinted that perhaps many thousands of Mi’kmaq were killed during the government-sponsored carnage that followed Cornwallis’s proclamation. Mention is made of scalps being brought in by the bagful. There is no way of knowing what the actual count really was. The government of the day appears not to have kept a close count on the expenditures it made to finance the deaths of innocent human beings. Or perhaps they did keep records. Then later, after realizing the extent of their horrendous crime against humanity, they destroyed the evidence.

  In 1752, three years after Cornwallis issued his despicable proclamation, the colonial government issued a proclamation putting a temporary halt to bounty hunting in the province. At a Council meeting held at the Governor’s house on Friday, July 17, 1752, it was resolved that a proclamation be issued to forbid hostilities against the Mi’kmaq:

  By His Excellency the Honourable Edward Cornwallis Esquire, Captain General, and Governor in Chief, in and over His Majesty’s Province of Nova Scotia, or Acadia in America, and Vice Admiral of the same.

  WHEREAS, by the advise and consent of His Majesty’s Council of this Province, two Proclamations were, by me, sometime since applied, authority and commanding (for reasons set forth in the said Proclamations) all Officers, Civic and Military, and all of His Majesty’s Subjects within this Province, to annoy, distress, take and destroy the Savages called the Mickmack Indians, and promising a reward for each one of them taken or killed.

  AND WHEREAS, for sometime past no hostilities have been committed by the said Indians against any of His Majesty’s Subjects, and some overtures tending to peace and amity have been made by them. I have thought fit, with the advice and consent of His Majesty’s Council to revoke the said Proclamations, and every part thereof, and further do hereby strictly forbid all persons to molest, injure or commit any kind of hostility against any of the aforesaid Indians, or any Indian within this Province, unless the same should be unavoidably necessary in defense against any hostile act of any such Indians towards any of His Majesty’s Subjects.

  AND WHEREAS, since the said cessation of hostilities, and publicly known design of a conference to be had between this Government, in conjunction with the Government of Massachusetts Bay, with the Tribes of Indians residing within, or bordering upon the said Governments, some evil minded persons regardless of the public need, and the good intention of the said Governments in their endeavour to effect a renewal of peace, and amity with the said Indians, and in violation of good faith, have, lately, in a vessel said to belong to Plymouth in New England, treacherously seized and killed near Cape Sable, two Indian girls, and an Indian lad, who went on board the said vessel, under given truce, and assurances of friendship and protection.

  I DO HEREBY, promise a reward of fifty Pounds Sterling to be paid out of the treasury of this Province, to any person who shall discover the author, or authors of the said act, so that the same may be proved before me and His Majesty’s Council, of this Province, within six months from the date hereof.

  Had Cornwallis suddenly become a humanitarian? Of course not; very few of the colonial rulers who governed Nova Scotia ever promoted human rights considerations for people of colour. Most, if not all, came to the Americas to kill and plunder. To this end Cornwallis excelled.

  The three children referred to in Cornwallis’s proclamation died horrible deaths — they were butchered alive. It seems ironic that he would offer a reward for the men who committed this atrocity when it was he who had, by the inhuman proclamation of 1749, authorized their horrible acts in the first place. Of course, as in other similar cases, no one was ever prosecuted for committing this heinous crime.

  The following are a few examples of how this barbarian is today honoured in Canada and Nova Scotia in particular. In Halifax and many other towns across the province streets are named after Edward Cornwallis. The provincial Department of Tourism and Culture, which was responsible for the multicultural affairs of the province, recently resided in “Cornwallis Place.” The Federal Government has a naval base named “Cornwallis,” which is located in the Digby County area of the province. Also a ship in the Canadian Coast Guard is named in his honour, and many other locations across Canada are dubbed with his name.

  For Canada’s white citizens in this time of so-called enlightenment to continue to glorify and honour Lord Cornwallis — a man whose deeds are not unlike those of Adolph Hitler, Idi Amin, Joseph Stalin, and other butchers of historical note — is mind boggling to say the least. Lord Cornwallis authorized human genocide; he was an unrepentant war criminal who to the end saw no wrong in the crimes against humanity he had authorized and condoned.

  The racist attitudes that would permit white Canadians in this day and age to continue to honour a barbarous beast such as Cornwallis must indeed be well ingrained. This man who was a monster of notorious proportions no more deserves glorification than do other notorious human butchers of history. To continue to accord this criminal a place of honour in our country is tantamount to endorsing genocide, racism, and contempt for civilized behaviour.

  As a direct result of the example set by the leadership, the vast majority of British colonists and their descendants throughout the 1600s, 1700s, 1800s, and over half of the 1900s, as is witnessed by the Marshall case, placed little value on the life or liberty of a Mi’kmaq or any other person of Native American ancestry. The fact that these British leaders are still honoured can lead one to reasonably assume that those barbaric colonial notions held towards Native American are still alive today in the subconscious minds of their descendants.

  April 29, 1994

  Sunset Rose Morris

  Spring Celebration

  The echoes, and the pictures that I envision, are the sounds and the images I have locked away for years. My unlocked sounds, and events coming forward from past experiences, are printed on these pages for many reasons. But the main reason is that interested persons might better understand the People of the Dawn’s nature and culture.

  I am the same as my parents were, for they were both Aboriginal Mi’kmaq of this home and Native land. We held many celebrations for many occasions. The four phases of a human’s life, the four directions, the four seasons, the four colours, and the like, are too numerous to mention. They are considered sacred and worth celebrating.

  We consider our sacred gatherings as a time and place to stay in tune with our Native Spirituality. We name our gatherings Mawiomis.

  I am sitting in a wigwam, supposedly watching my younger sister, Isabelle, as I play with my doll, that was given to me by my God-parents. It is a hot day, and the coolest place to be is in the wigwam. Looking towards the path by the gravel pit, I hear my mom’s voice. I pick up my doll and go to meet her. She is carrying a red Dome
stic Shortening tin of blueberries and a bottle of milk. She makes a command to the eldest of the children to build a fire for her. Henry, who is the eldest, gathers wood shavings (putlagang) from Dad’s lean-to, and gathers rocks for the fire place on the ground by the wigwam.

  My sister is creeping on the ground licking up sand with her tongue. Mother picks her up, washes her mouth, and places her on a red and grey blanket. I hear the crackling of the fire, and see a pot of blueberries slowly simmering.

  Now my memory takes me to the later hours of the day.

  The night has fallen, and we are filled with anticipation for what Mom has to speak about. Bright stars are covering the cool night sky. As the stage is being set up unknowingly, a light cloud is passing slowly in front of the moon. We seem to have our own places in the wigwam. My brother and me are having some sort of misunderstanding. But I do not remember what it might be. Dad tells us to be quiet (wantagpi).

  The smell of sweetgrass smoke fills the air, meaning that Mom is praying to the Creator before she begins her performance. Our eyes are drawn to the fire glow a few yards in front of the wigwam. Someone is swatting a miller that is flying around the dim kerosene lamp inside our canvas dwelling. Then that somebody blows out the flame. From afar, we hear the hooting of an owl, and the sound echoes through the evening darkness.

  There is an unexpected distraction. Our Collie dog, Blinky, barks sharply as he is watching an intruder coming closer to the encampment. A woman’s soft voice says, “Gwe,” and Blinky goes to meet her, wagging his tail. The woman is our neighbour. She is a tiny lady who is also a fine story teller. We always call her Auntie. She is carrying a small bundle, something wrapped up in a green and white cloth. She unwraps the bundle, and brings out molasses cake and cookies. There is an exchange of words as Mom welcomes her with a smile. She hands her a feather pillow for Auntie to sit on by the fire place. With a command, Aunt Annie says, “Here, have a lunch (Ula Mijisi).” The cake and cookies are passed around to everyone. We all thank her by saying, “Thank you (Welalin).”