- ed . olerr Ro HISTORY OF rolftixe's wxit. '

THE main subjcel! of this work has no further attraction for Eng- lish readers than 'what the author can create for it ; though it may be different with Americans, to whom the book is pritnarily ad- dressed. The mass of Englishmen have little knowledge of the Canadian and Colonial wars beyond the death of Wolfe and the defeat of Braddock, and consequently the interest which arises from association of ideas is lost to them. Measured by English notions, the confederacy of Pontiac to expel us from America after the conquest of Canada, consisted in a number of successes • or failures in the capture Of detached forts' arid the devastation of a long line of border settlements To the American, the subject has a national end a 'local interest The war was an important incident in his country's youth ; the wilderness which was the scene of Pontiac's enterprises is now peopled by myriads and dotted by populous cities;' the American is Often ac- quainted with the Indians by observation and with their history by tradition, while Englishmen know nothing save what they have learned from books, Yet all these sources of American interest, and several peculiar features in the war itself, cannot altogether, supply a defect in the subject—a Want of unity and largeness., It was a sense of this de- ficiency, perhaps, which has induced Mr. Parkman to connect with the main narrative a variety of subordinate or collateral topics. The characteristics and institutions of the Indian tribes East and North of the Mississippi, the different principles of colonization adopted by England and France, with the results in the respec- tive colonies, a sketch of the war 'which ended in the victory of Wolfe and the conquest of Canada, together with an account of the Indian feelings towards the French and English, and the reasons wherefore, precede the main history; and the history itself is suspended by digressions. This overlaying of the subject with independent essays produces a sense of isolation in the parts and a certain degree of impatience, at least in the English reader. The story of the war itself is less a history than a narrative of detached affairs : but this node of treatment was necessary. The unity was in the purpose of Pontiac, not in the plan, still less in the execution. If he had succeeded in all he hoped for, and sur- prised the whole of the Western frontier posts, as he did surprise the greater part, he would have been no nearer to his main object. The Indians would have devastated a greater extent of frontier country, and might have forced the outlying settlers to fall further back, but final success under any conceivable circumstances was impossible. Hence, the war is rather particular than general; a succession of partisan attempts, mostly successful, through the pride, incapacity, and want of caution in the officers commanding the frontier posts, but failing when opposed to foresight and capacity. The campaign, from its extent, and, as regards Indian operations, its magnitude, has this peculiarity—it embraces nearly all the characteristics of Indian warfare, and develops all the cha- racteristics of Indian character; in which, it must be owned, the baser qualities decidedly predominate. In a. partisan or romantic point of view, the subject has much interest, from imlividual skill, gallantry, and enterprise being brought into greater prominence than can be the case where the movement of large masses is the chief feature of the campaign. The solitude of the frontier posts, the forest wilderness in which they .are placed., the primeval mountains, streams, lakes, and woods, in which every operation has to be performed, and the gallantry and skill with which a few soldiers oppose the effects of discipline and the civilized art of defending a post to the incessant attacks of wary savages' form a phase of War as novel as it is striking. The snore remarkable affairs, however, are familiar in their outline to the historical reader, if at all . acquainted with American Colonial history. It is remarked by travellers, that however individual Ame- ricans may differ,—as the observing shepherd can detect physiog- nomical differences in. his flock,—there is a general resemblance throughout the Union in lathy lankiness, in haste, in tobacco- chewing, in dress, in manners or (as Scott expressed it) "no man- ners." The remark may be truly applied to American books. Poetry and travels with hardly an exception, historical novels and tales without any exception, and works on or about history, have a certain family likeness. As one star differs from another in brightness, and yet they are all stars, so one American writer on history differs from another in point of merit, yet their kind of merit is alike. Washington living's mode of composition is the type of them all, and consists in making the most of things. The landicape is described, not to possess the reader with the features of, the country so far as they are essential to the due apprehension of the historical event, but as a thing important in itself, and some- times as a thing adapted to show off the writing or the writer. The costumes are not only indicated, to remind the reader of the va- rious peoples- engaged, but dwelt upon with the unction of a vir- tuoso. The march is narrated in detail ;'the accessories are de- scribed. in their minutise 4 and the probable or possible feelings of the actors are laid before the reader. Sometimes this mode of com- position is used sparingly and chastely, as by Bancroft; sometimes more ftilly, as by Theodore Irving in his Conquest of Florida ; other styles (in the sense of expressing ideas) than the model may also preponderate, so as to suggest no idea of the author of the History. of the Conspiracy of Pontiac and the War of the North American Tribes against the English Colonies after the Conquest of Canada. By Francis Parkman jun. In two volumes. Published by Bentley. Slceteh-Book and the Conquest of Granada ; but, more or less, the literary sketcher or tale-writer has encroached upon the province of the historian.

Mr. Parkman has too much of this ; and the effect of it is ag- gravated by the various collateral subjects he introduces as well as

by a kind of showmanlike manner, as if he were calling upon the reader to admire the thing described. Had he shown more judg- ment in the plan, and better taste in the execution, he would

have produced a standard, as even with its drawbacks he has produced a readable book. The hero is a remarkable man ; per- haps the only Red Indian who ever rose above the limited and prejudiced views of his countrymen, and dreamed of oom- bining all the tribes in a common and patriotic purpose. Pen- tine's power of controlling the minds, of his fellows, was equal- ly memorable ; for before Detroit he not only induced different peoples to combine for a single purpose, but kept them at it, contrary to cherished ideas raid habits. The war itself abounds with incidents of savage art and wariness—of civilized courage, skill, and heroism ' • while the scenes among which it took place form a background new to general history. Nor is Mr. Parkman ill qualified for the task. He is familiar with the scenes where the events occurred ; he has a practical knowledge of the Indian cha- racter and manners ; he has been most industrious and persevering in his researches ; and he has a picturesque and animated style. A searching revision under the guidance of a severe taste would render this work an interesting and informing addition to our minor histories.

The secondary causes of the confederation were various. The long hostilities waged between the French and English predisposed the Indian allies of the French to look with little good.-will upon the English. This feeling was increased by the arts of the French traders and hunters, who promised Pontiac the assistance of French

armies ; and the emissaries of the officers were possibly not idle—

anxious to disturb what they could not destroy. Anger for in- juries, and a gloomy sense of impending extinction, prepared the Indian mind for any desperate undertaking, and a Red Hannibal arose to take advantage of the opportunity. The immediate cause of the outbreak, however, was the usual story—colonial misgo- vernment, combined with the national want of consideration for the usages of others.

"Under the circumstances, it behoved the English to use the utmost care in their conduct towards the tribes. But even when the conflict with France was impending, and the alliance with the Indians of the last import- ance, they had treated them with indifference and neglect. They were not . likely to adopt a different course now that their friendship seemed a matter of no consequence. In truth, the intentions of the English were soon appa-

rent. In the zeal for retrenchment which prevailed after the close of hos-

tilities, the presents which it had always been customary to give the Indians, at stated intervals, were either withheld altogether, or doled out with a nig-

gardly and reluctant hand ; while, to make the matter worse, the agents and officers of Government often appropriated the presents to themselves, and afterwards sold them at an exorbitant price to the Indians. When the French

had possession of the remote forts, they were accustomed, with a wise libe-

rality, to supply the surrounding Indians with guns, ammunition, and clothing, until the latter had forgotten the weapons and garments of their forefathers, and depended on the White men for support. The sudden with- holding of these supplies was, therefore, a grievous calamity. Want, suffer- ing, and death, were the omse9uences ; and this cause alone would have been enough to produce general discontent. But, unhappily, other grievances were superadded.

"The English fur-trade had never been well regulated, and it was now in a worse condition than ever. Many of the traders, and those in their employ,

were ruffians of the coarsest stamp, who vied with each other in rapacity, violence, and profligacy. They cheated, cursed, and plundered the Indians, and outraged their families ; offering, when compared with the French traders, who were under better regulation, a most unfavourable example of the character of their nation.

"The officers and soldiers of the garrisons did their full part in exciting the general resentment. Formerly, when the warriors came to the forts, they had been welcomed by the French with attention and respect. The in- convenience which their presence occasioned had been disregarded, and their peculiarities overlooked. But now they were received with cold looks and harsh words from the officers, and with oaths, menaces, and sometimes blows,

from the reckless and brutal soldiers. When, aftz their troublesome and intrusive fashion, they were lounging everywhere about the fort, or lazily

reclining in the shadow of the walls, they were met with muttered ejacula- tions of impatience, or abrupt orders to depart, enforced, perhaps, by a touch from the butt of a sentinel 3 musket. These marks of contempt were un- speakably galling to their haughty spirit."

The two great events of the war were the defence of Detroit and the defeat of the Indians at Bushy Run, with the consequent relief of Fort Pitt by a force under Bouquet, a Swiss in the British service. Bouquet's enterprise was of the nature of a campaign ; the defence of Detroit had a more Homeric character about it, full of dramatic incidents and surprises. Gladwyn,

the commandant, was a man of greater caution and conduct than many of his brother officers in the wilderness ; yet, like them,

he might have fallen into the trap which Pontiac had set, but for information received from an Indian girl to whom he was at- tached. When Pontiac came to Detroit under the pretext of holding a council, but with the intention of seizing the officers, massacring the soldiers, and getting possession of the place, he found himself baffled.

"At ten o'clock, the great war-chief, with his treacherous followers, reached the fort, and the gateway was thronged with their savage faces. All were wrapped to the throat in coloured blankets. Some were crested with hawk, eagle, or raven plumes ; others had shaved their heads, leaving only the fluttering scalp-lock on the crown • while others, again,. wore their long black hair flowing loosely at their back,, or wildly hanging about their brows like a lion's mane. Their bold yet crafty features, their cheeks be- smeared with ochre and vermilion, white lead and soot, their keen deep-set eyes gleaming in their sockets like those of rattlesnakes, gave them an as- pect grim' uncouth, and horrible. For the most part, they _were tall, strong men, and all had a gait and bearing of peculiar statelipstas. "As,Pontiite entered, it is said that he started, and that a deep ejaculation half escaped from his . broad chest. Well might his stoicism fail, forst. glance he read the-ruin of his plot On either hand within the gateway, stood ranks of soldiers and hedges of glittering steeL The swarthy, half- wild engages of the fur-traders, armed to the teeth, stood in groups at the street corners, and the measured tap of a drum fell ominously on the ear. Soon regaining his composure, Pontiac strode forward into the narrow street ; and his chiefs filed after him in silence, while the scared faces of women and children looked out from the windows as they passed. Their rigid muscles betrayed no sign of emotion ; yet, looking closely, one might have seen their small eyes glance from side to side with restless scrutiny. "Traversing the entire width of the little town, they reached the door of the council-house, a large building standing near the margin of the river. Entering, they saw Gladwyn, ith several of his officers, seated in readiness to receive them ; and the observant chiefs did not fail to remark that every Englishman wore a sword at his side and a pair of pistols in his belt. The conspirators eyed each other with uneasy glances. Why,' demanded Pon- tiac, do I see so many of my father's young men standing in the street with their guns ?' Gladwyn replied through his interpreter La Butte, that be had ordered the soldiers under arms for the sake of exercise and disci- pline. With much delay and many signs of distrust, the chiefs at length sat down on the mats prepared for them' and after the customary pause, Pon- tiac rose to speak. Holding in his hand the wampum belt which was to have given the fatal signal, he addressed the commandant, professing strong attachment to the English, and declaring, in Indian phrase, that he /tad come to smoke the pipe of peace and brighten the chain of friendship. The officers watched him keenly as he uttered these hollow words, fearing lest, though conscious that his designs were suspected, he might still attempt to accomplish them; and once, it is said, he raised the wampum belt as if about to give the signal of attack ; but at that instant Gladwyn signed slightly with his hand. The sudden clash of arms sounded from the passage with- out, and a drum rolling the charge filled the council-room with its stunning din. At this Pontiac stood like one confounded. Some writers will have that Gladwyn, rising from his Beat, drew the chiefs blanket aside, exposed the hidden gun, and sternly rebuked him for his treachery. But the com- mandant wished only to prevent the consummation of the plot, without bring- ing on an open rupture. His own letters affirm that he and his officers re- mained seated as before. Pontiac' seeing his unruffled brow and his calm eye fixed stedfastly upon him, knew not what to think, and soon sat down in amazement and perplexity. Another pause ensued, and Gladwyn com- menced a brief reply. Ile assured the chiefs, that friendship and protection should be extended towards them as long as they continued to deserve it, but threatened ample vengeance for the first act of aggression. The council then broke up ; but before leaving the room, Pontiac told the officers that he would return in a few days, with his squaws and children, for he wished that they should all -shake hands with their fathers the English. To this new piece of treachery Gladwyn deigned no-reply. The gates of the fort, which had been closed durins' the conference, were again flung open, and the baffled savages were suffered to depart ; rejoiced, no doubt, to breathe once more the free air of the open fields."

The garrison was strengthened by two small vessels, which did good service by annoying the Indians, as Well as by procuring supplies from the fort at Niagara. One of them had been detached for this purpose, and had a brush on its return.

"The schooner, late that afternoon, began to move slowly upward, with a gentle breeze between the main shore and the lone'-extended margin of Fighting Island. About sixty men were crowded on ; of whom onfy ten or twelve were visible on deck, the officer having ordered the teat to lie hidden below, in hopes that the Indians, encouraged by this apparent weak- ness, might make an open attack. Just before reaching the narrowest part of the channel, the wind died away, and the anchor was dropped. Immedi- ately above and within gunshot of the vessel, the Indians had made a breast- work of logs, carefully concealed by bushes, on the shore of Turkey Island. Here they lay in force, waiting for the schooner to pass. Ignorant of this, but still cautious and wary, the crew kept a strict watch from the moment the sun went down. Hours ware on, and nothing had broken the deep -re- pose of the night. The current gurgled with a monotonous sound around the bows of the schooner ; and on either hand the wooded shores lay amid the obscurity, black and silent as the grave. At length, the-sentinel could discern in the distance various moving objects upon the dark surface of the water. The men were ordered up from below, and all took their posts in perfect silence. The blow of a hammer on the mast was to be the signal to fire. The Indians, gliding stealthily over the water in their birch canoes, had by this time approached within a few rods of their fancied prize, when suddenly the dark ode of the slumbering vessel burst into a blaze of cannon and musketry, which illumined the night like a Slash of lightning. Grape and musket shot flew tearing among the canoes, destroying several of them, killing fourteen Indians, wounding as many more, and driving the rest in consternation to the shore. Recovering from their turprise, they began to fire upon the vessel from behind then breastwork ; upon which she weighed anchor, and dropped down once more beyond theirreach into the broad river below. Several days afterwards, she again attempted to ascend. This time she met with better success; for though the Indians fired at her constantly from the shore, no man was htirt, and at length she left behind her the perilous channels of the islands. As she passed the Wyandot village, she sent a shower of grape among its yelping inhabitants, by which several were killed; and then furling her sails, lay peacefully at anchor by the side of her companion vessel, abreast of the fort.

"The schooner brought to the garrison a much needed supply of men, ammunition, and provision. She brought also the interesting and important tidings that peace was at length concluded between France and England."

It was this peace which finally destroyed the hopes of Pontiac. He had been buoyed up by the, expectation of a French army co- operating with him from-the f3t. Lawrence ; anti it was long before he could be brought to believe that his ;hopes from France had really failed. He-sent an embassy to New Orleans, then the head- narters of French powerin America' but soon to be trandferred to n with the whole province of Louisiana, under the same treaty or ,peace which left Pontiac 'to his own resources. There is something saddening in the last councils held by Trance with her Indian 'al- lies and in America.

"-When Pontiac's ambassadors entered New Orleans, they found the town in -a state of confusion. It had long been known that the regions East of the Mississippi had been surrendered to England ; a cession from which, however, New Orleans and its suburbs had been excluded by a special pro- vision. But it was only within a few weeks that the dismayed inhabitants had learned that their mother-country had transferred her remaining Ame- rican possessions to the crown of Spam, whew government and people they cordially detested. With everyday they might expect the arrival of a Span- ish governor -and garrison. The French officials, whose hour was drawing to its close, were making the best of their slsortlived authority by every spe- cies of corruption and peculation ; and the inhabitants were awaiting, in an- ger and repugnaecle, the approaching change, which was to place over their -heads inasters whom they hated. The Governor, D'Abbadie, an ardent sol- dier and a zealous patriot, was so deeply. ehagrined at what he conceived to be the disgrace of his country, that his feeble health gave way, and he be. trayed all the symptoms of a rapid decline. "Haggard with illness, and bowed down with shame, the dying Governor received the Indian envoys in the council-hall of the province, where he was never again to assume his seat of office. Besides the French officials in at- tendance, Several English officers who chanced to be in the town, had been in- vited to the meeting, with the view of soothing the jealousy with which they regarded all intercourse between the French and the Indians. A Shaw- anoe chief, the orator of the embassy, displayed the great war-belt, and opened the council. These red dogs, he said, alluding to the colour of the British uniform, have crowded upon us more and more ; and when we ask them by what right they come, they tell us that you our French fathers, have given -them one lands. We know that they lie. These lands are neither yours nor theirs' and no man shall give or sell them without our consent. Fathers, we have always been your faithful children and we now have come to ask that you will give us guns, powder, and lead, to aid us in this war.'

"D'Abbadie replied in a feeble voice„ endeavouring to allay their vindic- tive jealousy of the English, and promising to give them all that should be necessary to supply their immediate wants. The council then adjourned until the following day ; but, in the mean. time, the wasted strenoeth of the Governor gave way beneath a renewed attack of his disorder, and before the appointed hour arrived he had breathed his last, hurried to a premature indh by the anguish of mortified pride and patriotism. M. Aubry, his suc- cessor, presided in his place, and received the savage embassy. The orator, after the solemn custom of his people, addressed him in -a speech of condo- lence, expressing his deep regret for D'Abbadie's untimely fate. A chief of the Miamis then rose to speak, with a scowling brow, and words of bitter- ness and reproach. 'Since we last sat on these seats, our ears have heard strange words. When the English told us that they had conquered you, we always thought that they lied ; but now we have learned that they spoke the truth. We have learned that you, whom we have loved and served so well, have given the lands that we dwell upon to your enemies and ours. We have learned that the English have forbidden you to send traders to our villages to supply our wants ; and that you, whom we thought so great and brave, have obeyed their commands like women, leaving us to-starve and die in misery. We now tell you, ODCC for all, that our lands are our own ; and we tell you, moreover, that we can live without your aid, and hunt, and fish, and tight, as our fathers did before us. All that we ask of you is this, that you s us back the guns, the powder, the hatchets, and the knives which we have worn out in fighting your battles. As for you,' he -exclaim- ed, turning to the English officers, who were present as on the previous day, 'as for you, our hearts burn with rage when we think of the ruin, you hare brought on us.' Aubry returned but a weak answer to the cutting at- tack of the Indian speaker. He assured the ambassadors that the French still retained their former love for the Indians ; that the English meant them no harm; and that, as all the world were now at peace, it behoved them also to take hold of the chain of friendship. A few presents were then .dis- tributed, but with no apparent effect. The features of the Indians still.re- tained their sullen scowl ; and on the morrow, their canoes were ascending, the Mississippi on their homeward voyage."

Overithelmed by dint of numbers from Canada, defeated by su- periority of generalship along the frontiers of Pennsylvania and Virginia, abandoned by France and his Indian allies, Pontiac yielded to necessity, and submitted to the English power. Eat his restless mind and patriotic ambition would probably have -.pro- duced further troubles, had he not fallen under the hand of an Indian assassin, bribed by an English trader, who suspected that his visit to the French settlement of St. Louis covered some fur- ther purpose.

"During the summer, Pontiac came to the Illinois, with what design does not appear, though his movements excited much uneasiness among the few English in that quarter. Soon after his arrival, he repaired to St. Louis, to visit his former acquaintance St. Ange, who was then in command at that post, having offered his services to the Spaniards after the cession of Louisiana. After leaving the fort, Pontiac proceeded to the house of which young Pierre Chouteau was an inmate ; and to the last days of his protracted life, the latter could vividly recall the circumstances of the interview. .The savage chief was arrayed in the full uniform of a French officer, which had been presented to him as a special mark of respect and favour by the Marquis of Elontealm, towards the close of the French war, and which Pontiac never had the bad taste to wear except on occasions when he wished to appear with unusual dignity. St. Ange, Chouteau' and the other principal inhabitants of the infant settlement, whom he visited in turn, all received him with cordial welcome, and did their best to entertain him and his attendant chiefs. He remained at St. Louis for two or three days • when, hearing that a large number of Indians were assembled at Cahokit:, on the opposite side ef .the river, and that some drinking bout or other social gathering was in progress, he told St. Ange that he would cross over to see what was goingnorward. St. Ange tried to dissuade him' and urged the risk to which he-would-ex- pose himself ; but Pontiac persisted, 'boasting that he was a match for the English, and had no fear for his life. He entered a canoe with some of his followers, and Choutcau never saw himagain. "lie who at the present day crosses from the city of St. Louis to the op- posite shore of the Mississippi, and passes Southward through a forest fes- tooned with grape-vines and fragrant with the scent of flowers, will soon emerge upon the ancient hamlet of Cahokia. To one fresh from the busy suburbs of the American city, the small French houses, seatteredin pieta, resque disorder, the light-hearted, thriftlenSlook of their inmates, and the woods which form the baokground of the picture, seem like the remnants of an earlier and simpler world. Strange changes have passed around that spot. Forests have fallen, cities have sprung up, and the lonely wilderness is thronged with human life. Nature herself has taken part in the.general transforraation and the Mississippi has made a fearful itiroad,.robbing from the luckless emotes a mile of rich meadow and woodland. Yet, in the

midst of all, this relic of the lost empire of France has this its essential features through the lapse of a century, and offers at this day an aspect not widely different from that which met the eye Of Pontiac when' he andlis chiefs landed on its shore.

"The place was full of Illinois Indians ; -such a scene as in our own titae may be often met with in some squalid settiemeut of the border, where the vagabond guests, bedizened with dirty finery, tie their small horses in rows along the fences, and stroll idly among the houses, or lounge about the dram- shops. A chief so renowned as Pont= could not remain long among the friendly Croaks of Cahokia without being summoned to a feast; and at such primitive entertainment the whisky.bottle would not fail to play ita part. This was in truth the case. Pontiac drank deeply, and, when the carousal was over, strode down the village street to the adjacent woods ; where he was heard to sing the medicine songs, in whose magic power he trusted as the warrant of success in all his undertakings.

An English trader, named Williamson, was then in the village. He had looked on the -movements of Pontiac with a jealousy probably not di- minished by the visit of the chief to the French at St. Louis,- and he now re- solved not to lose so favourable an opportunity to despateh him. With this view, he gained the ear of a strolling Indian belonging to the 'Kaskaskia tribe of the Illinois, bribed him with a barrel of liquor, and promised him a farther reward if he would kill the chief. The bargain was quickly made. When Pontiac entered the forest, the assassin stole close upon his traek,:and, watch- ing his moment, glided behind him, and buried a tomahawk in his brain. "The dead body was soon discovered, and startled cries and wild howling& announced the event. The word was caught up from mouth to mouth, and the place resounded with infernal yells. The warriors snatched their wea- pons. The Illinois took part with their guilty countryman ; and the few followers of Pontiac, driven from the village, fled to spread the tidings and call the nations to revenge. Meanwhile, the murdered chief lay on the spot where he had fallen, until St. Ange, mindful of former friendship, sent to claim the body, and buried it with warlike honours, near his fort of St. Louis."