THE DEATH OF THE WITCHES
It was at the close of May,
1801, that the Moravian
missionaries came to Wah'-pi-kah-me'-kunk, standing where the city of
Muncie now is, or rather on
the bluffs
across the river
from Muncie. This was the easternmost of the Delaware towns on White
River, and that was the cause of its name, for
the trails from the east and
north and south all struck it
first, and so it was by pre-eminence the White River Town. This is what
the name means, for in the early times the Delawares adopted the Miami
name of the river,
Wah'-pi-kah-me'-ki (White
Waters — varied to
O'-pee-ko-me'-kah in the Unami dialect) though in later times they
commonly called
it Wah'-pi-ha'-ni, which in
their own language means
literally White River.
The missionaries were Brother John P. Kluge and his wife, and Abraham
Luckenbach, a young man of twenty-four years, all of whom had been
called to the work
from Pennsylvania,
and had passed the preceding winter
with Zeisberger at Goshen, on the Muskingum, learning the Delaware
language.
They had reached this point
from Goshen after a wearisome
journey of nine weeks, partly
by water down the Ohio, then up
the Miami and Whitewater, and across through the woods. They were
accompanied by two Delaware converts, one named Thomas, and the other
an old man named Joshua, who had formerly lived at the
mission at Wyalusing
( Place
of the Aged Warrior — the
same name was afterward given to
a stream in southern Indiana).
They were hospitably received, but the Indians, who were pagans,
pointed out a place for them to settle some twenty miles
farther down the river. The
truth is that
the pagans
regarded the Christian Indians as
a sort of inoffensive idiots, who did not have sense enough to protect
themselves — the Moravians being non-combatants—rand who might be
murdered by whites, as their brethren had been at Salem and
Gnadenhuetten on the Muskingum, if they did not have
a surrounding cordon of Indians of more warlike character.
This location was favorably situated for their labors, being only two
miles east of
the large town of the chief
known to the whites as
Anderson. His Indian name
was Kok-to'-wha-nund,
which may be translated Making
a Cracking Noise, i. e., as of a house or a tree about to fall, for
that is the meaning of Kok-to'wha, and the ending nund indicates that
the noise is caused by some person.
The whites have given the name of Anderson to the place, but the
Indians did not call it by the chief's name, as they did many other
places, but gave it the special name of Wah'- pi- mins'- kink, or
Chestnut Tree Place. Some botanists
have doubted that the chestnut tree is native to Indiana, but the
earliest surveyor's notes show that they were common in some regions.
The section center one and a half miles east of Anderson was marked by
"a chestnut thirty inches in diameter."
Indeed, the location was about the only encouraging feature of the
case, for these pagan Delawares had an ancient religion of their own to
which they were much
attached. It was (and is, for
it still continues) founded
on the vision of a boy who was ill- treated at home and wandered off
one night
heartsore and very hungry,
until, almost exhausted, he
began moaning and supplicating the
Great Spirit. As he cried out "O-oo" he heard twelve voices repeat the
sound,
one after another. Then he
fell asleep and a manitou
appeared to him as a man, with one side of his face painted red and the
other
black. He told the boy all
about the spirit world, and
that the troubles of his people were due to their wickedness and their
failure to worship the
manitous for their goodness.
In answer to an inquiry about the twelve voices he said these were the
voices of
the manitous ruling in the
twelve spheres of heaven,
through which one must pass
to reach
the Great Spirit; and all prayers are thus passed in by them, from one
to
another, until the twelfth
delivers them to the Great Spirit.
He gave the boy full instructions for the religious rites the Indians
must observe, especially the annual thanksgiving feast, and also for
the temples orcouncil-houses they must erect for worship. These were to
be long and large, and to be divided into
twelve parts, in each of
which must be a post with a face
carved on it, and painted red on one side and black on the other,
representing
the twelve ruling manitous.
In the center there must be a
post with four faces carved on the four sides, representing the Great
Spirit
who sees and knows all
things.
To these houses the people must enter by the east door and retire in
the same way,
always passing to the right,
and never going between the
center post and the
east door. After
entering, the Turtle clan or Unami (People Down the River), commonly
known among themselves by their totem name, Pa- ko-an-go (The Crawler),
were to be seated on the south side. On the west are the
Turkey clan, or Unalachtigo
(People Near the Ocean),
commonly known among themselves as Chi-ke-la-ki
( from chik-e-no, a
turkey), or sometimes by
their other name of the
turkey, Pullaeu (It Does Not Chew — referring to the bird's manner of
eating). On the north are the Wolf clan, known to us
as Monseys or Munsees, but
properly Minsi or Minthiu (People of the Stony Country), whose totemic
name is p'tuk-sit, or round foot, because they did not make a picture
of a wolf for their totem,
but only of its foot.
Of these houses on White River Luckenbach says : "In each of these
towns there
was a council-house, about
forty feet in length and
twenty feet in breadth, where
they usually celebrated their sacrificial feasts and dances. These
houses were built of split wood, piled up betwixt posts set in the
ground, covered with a roof made of laths and the bark of trees, and
having an
entrance at either end; but
there was neither floor nor
ceiling; three fireplaces stood in a straight line from end to end,
with large
kettles suspended over them
in which a mess of Indian
corn and meat, boiled together, was prepared for the guests to eat,
after
the dance was over. Platforms
one foot high and five feet
wide were raised all along the sides
of the house, which were covered first with bark and then long grass on
top of that, to serve as couches for the guests
to sit or recline upon while
smoking their pipes and
witnessing the dancing of the rest. These dances were invariably got up
in the
night, and sometimes continued for weeks together. The whole was
concluded by a sacrificial feast, for which the men had
to furnish the venison and
bear's meat, and the women
the cornbread; and everything had to be prepared in the council-house
before
all feasted together amidst
the observance of certain
rites."
And the superstitions of these pagans were very real to them. They
regarded dreams and visions as supernatural
visitations quite as fully as
Pharaoh did. They
believed
absolutely and fearfully in witches, which is not very surprising when
one considers.that Blackstone had defended the
English laws against
witchcraft less than fifty years
earlier. They were perversely argumentative, conceding that the whites
had acted very wickedly in crucifying the
Savior when he came to them,
but urging that they had
never treated the manitous thus, and that they did not see how they
were
concerned in the offense of
the whites.
But, with all their failings, they at least preached fairly well, for
Luckenbach says:
"On such occasions the chiefs
usually address speeches to
their people of both sexes, and rigidly enforce abstinence from all
gross sins, especially drunkenness
(although they themselves are
very far from practicing what
they teach), while recommending them to practice hospitality, love and
concord, as things that are
well pleasing to God. This
proves that even savages are capable of distinguishing between good and
evil,
and are, therefore, possessed
of a conscience that either
accuses or else excuses them, and that will judge them at the last
day."
Obviously the missionaries had a hard task before them, but at least
they were promised an open field. Luckenbach says that soon after their
coming they "were
visited and welcomed by the
two oldest Delaware chiefs,
Packantschilas and Tetepach- sit,"
and, although both were pagans, "both of these chiefs assured us they
had given their people permission to visit us and to
hear the Word of God, and that
they would order them not to
molest us in any way, nor to
pass through our place when they were drunk." These were gratifying
assurances, for the former, known to the whites as Buckongehelas, was
the head war chief of the
nation, and Ta-ta-pach-sit,
sometimes mentioned as "The Grand Glaize King," was the head
chief in time of peace. His name is given in an old Pennsylvania treaty
as "Tatabaugsuy, the Twisting Vine," but there is nothing in it like
the Delaware
words for "twisting" or
"vine." Ta-ta is a Delaware double
negative, making it emphatic, and
the verb pachan (p5ch-5n) means to divide, separate, sunder; making the
literal meaning, "It can not be divided or pulled apart." Such a name
would not be applied to any fragile vine, and the one woody
twisting vine in the old
Delaware country was the
American Woodbine, of which this is presumably the specific name.
Encouraged by the assurances of these chiefs, the missionaries
proceeded with
the erection of a permanent
dwelling. They lived in
hastily-constructed bark huts
during the summer, but by November they completed
a substantial log cabin
sixteen feet square, which
gave them comfortable shelter for
the winter.
The work of conversion did not proceed with much success, and it was
not long
until they discovered that
they were contending against
an influence even
more adverse than the ancient Delaware religion. It
was a spirit of opposition to
the whites in all things,
that arose chiefly from the land question — the continual demand of the
white man for more land. Only half a dozen years had
passed since the treaty of
Greenville, when the
boundaries between American and Indian were "fixed for all time," as
the Indians understood, but immediately after the
treaty there was a great
flood of immigration to the new
lands, and soon there was talk of more land being needed.
Some of the Indians promptly opposed this, and among them none was more
prominent than the young
Shawnee Tecumtha. A born
orator, with eloquence as great
as that of any man his race has produced, and
absolutely fearless, he
proclaimed everywhere the
doctrine that the Indians were one people, that the land was their
common inheritance
and that no tribe could give
any part of it away without
the consent of all.
This doctrine was soon widely adopted, for in 1802 General Harrison
wrote that he
did not believe that he could
obtain land cessions without
a general assembly
of the chiefs,
for: "There appears to be an agreement amongst them that no
proposition which relates to
their lands can be acceded to
without the consent of all the tribes, and they are extremely watchful
and jealous of
each other lest some advantage
should be obtained in which
they do not all participate."
Nevertheless he proceeded to treat with individual tribes. From
September, 1802,
to December, 1805, he
negotiated seven treaties with
"chiefs and head men," by
which were ceded about 46,000 square miles of
territory in southern Indiana
and Illinois. No tribes were
represented but those asserting ancient proprietary rights, although
the Wyandots and Shawnees had been assured a part in
the Indian lands at the
treaty of Greenville. Te- cumtha
and his coadjutors denounced these treaties, and the chiefs who made
them,
and factions in all the
tribes joined with them.
At some time prior to 1805 a number of Shawnees, including Tecumtha and
his brother Law-le-was-i-kaw (The Loud Voice) came to live with the
Delawares on
White River, and it was here that Law-le-was-i-kaw took the name of
Tems-kwah-ta- wah (He Who Keeps the Door Open) and
assumed the role of a prophet. He was readily accepted in this
function, and under his teaching the tribes were soon stirred to
the work of purification,
which consisted chiefly of
abandoning the clothing and costumes of the whites and driving out
witchcraft. It was notable that those accused of the
latter were chiefs who had
signed the treaties or persons
who were known as friendly to the whites. The Indians were taught that
the Great Spirit had made them a different
race from the whites, and
that they must keep themselves
distinct. The tendency of the new
religion was to create hostility to the white man in all lines.
In the spring of 1806 the situation became so unpleasant that the
missionaries
decided to remove.
PSch-gont'-she-he'-los had died in 1804, and Ta-ta-pach-sit
was in
disfavor on account of
friendship to the whites. They were
occasionally visited by drunken youths who shot and carried off their
hogs, and showed hostility in other ways. Early in March Luckenbach and
Joshua made a trip to the Mississinewa towns to look for a
more favorable location.
As they passed through Wah-pi-kah-mekunk they found the Delawares
assembled in large numbers
holding council as to how they
should rid the tribe of
witches. Following the plan of Tecumtha, the young men — the warriors —
had taken the reins of
government into their own
hands; and, following the
teaching of The Prophet, they had determined to remove all witches. If
those who were accused of witchcraft would confess and abandon their
practices they would be forgiven, but if not they would be turned over
to "Their Grandfather, the Fire."
Immediately after the return of Luckenbach and Joshua, seven Indians
painted black appeared at the cabin of the
missionaries and announced
that they had come to take
Joshua before the tribunal. Old Ta-ta- pach-sit had been arraigned for
witchcraft
and had confessed, on promise
of forgiveness if he would
surrender his witch bag — the
sack in which Indian medicine men profess to carry the media of their
magic. He had declared that in the previous winter
he had given his witch bag to
Joshua, who must now confront
him. Joshua went with them, calm
and unterrified in his consciousness of innocence.
The statement as to Ta-ta-pach-sit was true. The old chief had probably
given way
under the weakness of old age
and had hopelessly involved
himself and others.It was simple
enough, though weak, to admit the practice of witchcraft, of which he
was
entirely innocent; but when
it came to surrendering or
accounting for a witch-bag that he never possessed, he was lost. He had
said it was hidden at various places, but
search did not reveal it. He
then confessed giving it to
his wife, to his nephew and to Joshua, but these all denied it
convincingly, and
the old chief promptly
brought forward some new
story.
The old Munsee woman who had been serving as judge in such matters
declined
to decide these cases. Aside
from the difficulties involved,
she had had a
wonderful vision in
which she had devoured a light that appeared to her three times, and
she construed this to be a divine reflection on her
judicial standing. It was,
therefore, decided to hold the
accused until The Prophet, who was expected the next day, should come
and decide as to their guilt in person.
On the next day, March 17, the missionaries were startled by a party of
black-painted Indians who
came to their place with Ta- ta-pach-sit
in custody. Hastily taking
a firebrand from one of the Indian lodges, they passed on to a tree,
under which the old
man had now indicated the
place where the witch- bag
was concealed. They dug at the place he pointed out, but found nothing.
With gathering fury they built a fire and
threatened him with instant
death if he did not give up
his poison.
The frenzied dotard pointed out one place after another and they dug in
vain. It was
hopeless. He was
self-convicted. His own son
struck him down with his
tomahawk. They stripped him and cast his body into
the flames. After finishing
their work they came to the
cabin of the missionaries, and the
son, displaying his father's belt of wampum, said: "This belonged to
him who discarded my mother and his oldest children and took him a
young wife."
But what of Joshua? The missionaries were beginning to feel alarmed
about him, and ventured some words in his defense. To
this the ominous reply of the
Indians
was that they ought
not to speak in his behalf, because he was a bad man who had doubtless
brought many persons to death by his magic powers. When the Indians had
gone their fears increased as they discussed
the situation, and in the
morning Luckenbach started to
Wah-pi-kah-me-kunk to do what he
could for the aid or comfort of their friend. About half way there he
met the chief Kok-to-wha-nund, who informed him that Joshua had been
killed at Wah-pi-kah-me-kunk on the preceding day. The
missionary was overcome by
grief, and lamented that they
had slain an innocent man; but the
chief sternly answered that he deserved his doom, and that other wicked
people who
made way with their fellow-men
by poison or magic would meet
the same fate.
To a protest against the barbarity of such executions, he replied: "You
white people likewise try your criminals, and whenever you find them
guilty you hang them
or
execute them in some other
way, and we are now doing the
same among us. Another of our
chiefs, Hackin-pom-ska, is now under arrest on a similar charge, but
his fate
still remains undecided."
There had indeed been exciting times at Wah-pi-kah-me'-kunk on that St.
Patrick's day. The Prophet
had returned and had confronted Joshua in the council-house.
Joshua protested his innocence. Unable to furnish
any proof against him, The
Prophet declared that while
it was true that he did not have the witch-bag of Ta-ta-pach-sit, he
had magic powers of his own by which he was able to destroy a man's
life when he
wished to offer a victim to
his god. This was equivalent to
a judgment of guilty. The Indians conducted Joshua to a large fire
which
they had built. They formed a
ring about him and demanded
that he confess how many men
he had destroyed by his magic. Joshua calmly and solemnly avowed his
complete
innocence.
There was a momentary halt. An Indian stepped from the circle, went to
the fire,
and lighted the tobacco in
his tomahawk-pipe. As he
passed behind Joshua
he suddenly sank the tomahawk in his brain. With wild yells
the others then sprang forward
and rained blows on the
senseless body. Then they stripped
his body and threw it in the flames, where it burned to ashes.
There remained three others under accusation. The nephew of
Ta-ta-pach-sit was a
Christian Indian, commonly known as Billy Patterson, who had lived
among the
whites until he acquired considerable skill as a
gunsmith. He was a strong and
courageous man, with a queer
mixture of religious faith and
Indian stoicism and he received The Prophet's condemnation with
composure. They offered him pardon if he would
confess, and abandon his
magic practices, but he answered with scorn: "You have intimidated one
poor old man, but you can not frighten
me; go on, and you shall see
how a Christian and a warrior
Can die." He was at once burned
at the stake. Bible in hand, praying, chanting hymns, and defying all
the powers of evil until his voice was
stifled, his brave soul
passed out as from one of the martyrs
of apostolic times.
The failure to elicit any confession or evidences of guilt from him was
somewhat
disquieting. When the council
had resumed its session and
was considering the case of Ta-ta-pach-sit's
wife her brother entered the council-house,
went forward, took her by the hand
and led her out of the house. He then returned and declared in a loud
voice:
"The evil spirit has come among us and we are killing each other." No
further attempt
was made to try the woman,
and the case of Hack-ink-pom'-ska
(He Walks on the Ground) was
taken up.
This chief was of different stuff from the others. He did not wait for
any additional
accusation. Advancing to The
Prophet, he denounced him as
a liar and an impostor, and threatened
him with personal vengeance if he
made any charge of witchcraft against him. This was a very practical
test of
divine protection, from the
Indian point of view, to
which The Prophet was not prepared to submit, and after some discussion
Hack-ink-pom-ska was remanded to custody to await further proceedings,
but without
being deprived of his
standing and authority as a
chief. No further action was taken against him.
The news of these tragedies was slow in reaching Governor Harrison at
Vincennes — up the trail to Ft. Wayne by runner, and down the Wabash by
boat — reaching
him in April. He at once sent a strong letter to the Delawares, in
which he said: "Who is this pretended prophet who dares to
speak in the name of the Great Creator ? Examine him. Is he more
wise or more virtuous than
you are yourselves, that he
should be selected to convey
to you the orders of your God ? Demand of him some proofs at least of
his being the messenger of the Deity. If God has really employed him,
He has doubtless
authorized him to perform
some miracles, that he may be
known and received as a prophet. If he is really a prophet, ask of him
to
cause the sun to stand still
— the moon to alter its course
— the rivers to cease to flow — or the dead to rise from their graves.
If he does
these things, you may then
believe that he has been sent
from God." This reached the Indians
after they had ended their crusade against witchcraft, but it probably
served
to lessen somewhat the
influence of The Prophet, for
in the succeeding troubles the Delawares
were generally loyal to the Americans.
And the missionaries ? After learning the situation at
Wah-pi-kah-me-kunk, Lucken- bach decided to go at once before the
council, which was still in
session, and
ask what was the
sentiment as to them. He entered the council-house, announced that he
had heard
rumors that the Indians meant to drive the missionaries away, and asked
them to
express their minds freely
concerning their future stay.
The head men replied that the rumors had not originated with them, but
possibly
with some of the young men;
that they had no especial
preference in the matter,
and had not, in fact, called for any white
teachers, but had merely
requested that some of their relatives
at the Muskingum move out to them
; of these, however, not the families expected — the White Eyes and the
Killbucks — but only a few others had come. The
missionaries were free to
come or go as they liked ; no
obstacles would be put in their way. The council then advised him to
consult Hack-ink-pom-ska, and this chief coincided
with the council in the view
that their services were not
particularly desirable to the Indians,
especially in view of the surplus of religion furnished by The Prophet.
On consultation with Brother and Sister Kluge it was decided to ask the
authorities at Bethlehem
permission to leave, although this
involved a wait of five or six
months. A messenger was sent and they waited
through the summer, frequently annoyed by drunken and quarrelsome
Indians, until at last the permission for their return came.
On September 16, with their
little belongings, they left
the White River mission and turned back to their Pennsylvania homes.
Their cabin remained standing for a number of years, but even that did
not preserve their memory. A few years later, when the white settlers
came and found the
Indian town known as Little Munsee sprung up about the place, it was
assumed that the cabin must have been built by the Indians
as a fort, because it was so
much more substantial than
ordinary Indian structures, and so the tradition passed down.
Source:True Indian
Stories By Jacob
Piatt
Dunn 1908