The Old Northwest | Page 5

wild and rural beauty."
At the coming of the English the French residents were given an
opportunity to withdraw. Few, however, did so, and from the gossipy
correspondence of the pleasure-loving Colonel Campbell, who for
some months was left in command of the fort, it appears that the life of
the place lost none of its gayety by the change of masters. Sunday card
parties at the quarters of the commandant were festive affairs; and at a
ball held in celebration of the King's birthday the ladies presented an
appearance so splendid as to call forth from the impressionable officer
the most extravagant praises. A visit in the summer of 1761 from Sir
William Johnson, general supervisor of Indian affairs on the frontier,
became the greatest social event in the history of the settlement, if not
of the entire West. Colonel Campbell gave a ball at which the guests
danced nine hours. Sir William reciprocated with one at which they
danced eleven hours. A round of dinners and calls gave opportunity for
much display of frontier magnificence, as well as for the consumption
of astonishing quantities of wines and cordials. Hundreds of Indians
were interested spectators, and the gifts with which they were
generously showered were received with evidences of deep satisfaction.
No amount of fiddling and dancing, however, could quite drown
apprehension concerning the safety of the post and the security of the
English hold upon the great region over which this fort and its distant
neighbors stood sentinel. Thousands of square miles of territory were
committed to the keeping of not more than six hundred soldiers. From
the French there was little danger. But from the Indians anything might
be expected. Apart from the Iroquois, the red men had been bound to
the French by many ties of friendship and common interest, and in the
late war they had scalped and slaughtered and burned unhesitatingly at
the French command. Hardly, indeed, had the transfer of territorial

sovereignty been made before murmurs of discontent began to be
heard.
Notwithstanding outward expressions of assent to the new order of
things, a deep-rooted dislike on the part of the Indians for the English
grew after 1760 with great rapidity. They sorely missed the gifts and
supplies lavishly provided by the French, and they warmly resented the
rapacity and arrogance of the British traders. The open contempt of the
soldiery at the posts galled the Indians, and the confiscation of their
lands drove them to desperation. In their hearts hope never died that the
French would regain their lost dominion; and again and again rumors
were set afloat that this was about to happen. The belief in such a
reconquest was adroitly encouraged, too, by the surviving French
settlers and traders. In 1761 the tension among the Indians was
increased by the appearance of a "prophet" among the Delawares,
calling on all his race to purge itself of foreign influences and to unite
to drive the white man from the land.
Protests against English encroachments were frequent and, though
respectful, none the less emphatic. At a conference in Philadelphia in
1761, an Iroquois sachem declared, "We, your Brethren, of the several
Nations, are penned up like Hoggs. There are Forts all around us, and
therefore we are apprehensive that Death is coming upon us." "We are
now left in Peace," ran a petition of some Christian Oneidas addressed
to Sir William Johnson, "and have nothing to do but to plant our Corn,
Hunt the wild Beasts, smoke our Pipes, and mind Religion. But as these
Forts, which are built among us, disturb our Peace, and are a great hurt
to Religion, because some of our Warriors are foolish, and some of our
Brother Soldiers don't fear God, we therefore desire that these Forts
may be pull'd down, and kick'd out of the way."
The leadership of the great revolt that was impending fell naturally
upon Pontiac, who, since the coming of the English, had established
himself with his squaws and children on a wooded island in Lake St.
Clair, barely out of view of the fortifications of Detroit. In all Indian
annals no name is more illustrious than Pontiac's; no figure more
forcefully displays the good and bad qualities of his race. Principal
chief of the Ottawa tribe, he was also by 1763 the head of a powerful
confederation of Ottawas, Ojibwas, and Potawatomi, and a leader
known and respected among Algonquin peoples from the sources of the

Ohio to the Mississippi. While capable of acts of magnanimity, he had
an ambition of Napoleonic proportions, and to attain his ends he was
prepared to use any means. More clearly than most of his forest
contemporaries, he perceived that in the life of the Indian people a
crisis had come. He saw that, unless the