The boys' book of Indian battles and adventures, with anecdotes about them
History
The boys' book of Indian battles and adventures, with anecdotes about them
Indians of North America -- Anecdotes
Billy Weatherford, denominated ‘The Prophet,’ was about one-fourth
Indian (some say a half breed) his ancestry, on the white side, having
been Scottish. It has been said, that he boasted of having no _Yankee_
(meaning American) blood in his veins.
This ferocious chief led the hostile Indians to the attack of Fort
Mimms, at Tensau, on the 30th of August, 1813; which resulted in the
indiscriminate massacre of men, women, and children, to the number of
near four hundred. He was also a leader associated with the prophets
Francis and Sinquister, at the battle fought on the 23d of December
following, at Ekchanachaca, or ‘The Holy Ground;’ which had been
considered by them inaccessible to their enemies, and the ‘Grave of White
Men.’ But it proved a fatal delusion. His party suffered great loss of
warriors, and all the provisions, munitions of war, &c., deposited at
this place of imaginary security; being, as they supposed, rendered
secure by the protecting influence of some supernatural agency.
It is stated, that—after being sated with the blood of Americans, and
witnessing the almost total extinction of his warriors—he voluntarily and
dauntlessly flung himself into the hands of General Jackson, and demanded
his protection. He is said, on surrendering himself, to have made the
following speech to the General—which looks very little like claiming
_protection_. It displays a spirit, which would have done credit to
Napoleon, under similar circumstances, after the battle of Waterloo:
“I am in your power: do with me what you please. I am a soldier. I have
done the white people all the harm I could. I have fought them, and
fought them bravely. If I had an army, I would yet fight, and contend to
the last. But I have done—my people are all gone—I can do no more than
weep over the misfortunes of my nation. Once I could animate my warriors
to battle: but I cannot animate the dead. My warriors can no longer hear
my voice—their bones are at Talladega, Tallaschatchee, Emuckfaw, and
Tohopeka. I have not surrendered myself thoughtlessly. Whilst there were
chances of success, I never left my post, nor supplicated peace. But my
people are gone, and I now ask it for my nation, and for myself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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