The Autobiography of Ma-Ka-Tai-Me-She-Kia-Kiak, or Black Hawk by Black Hawk (superbooks4u .txt) π
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Black Hawk, so named after the sacred medicine bag he carried with him, was a warrior and a leader of a tribe of Sauk Native Americans in the American Midwest circa 1800. He rose to leadership during a tumultuous time for his people, as they were pressed on all sides by the warlike British, the ruthlessly expansionist Americans, and the grudges and jealousies of neighboring tribes.
He lived as a warrior for much of his early life, when the War of 1812 between the British and the Americans forced the Sauk to take sides and enter the fray. Angered by the Americansβ demands they sign shaky treaties to cede their land, the tribe fought for the British until the toll of the war forced the tribe to bow out.
After the war, Black Hawk signed a peace treaty with the Americans, but a series of misunderstandings once again brought tensions between the Sauk and the Americans to a head. When a group of under-trained Illinois militia mistakenly opened fire on the Sauk, Black Hawk began what is known as the Black Hawk War, leading raids against American forts and settlements in an effort to reclaim their ancient land.
Even though Black Hawk managed to convince other tribes to join his cause, the war was quickly lost and Black Hawk captured. He was then taken on a tour of the vast East Coast cities in an attempt to impress upon him Americaβs overwhelming might. Despite his status as a former enemy, he was treated with dignity and respect by his captors before they granted him a small house and plot of land in Iowa to live out the rest of his days.
His autobiography was dictated to a translator, Antoine Le Clair, and written down by his amanuensis and publisher, J. B. Patterson. The story Black Hawk tells is a vivid one of life on the prairie, rich with tradition and meaning, but riven equally by war and bloodshed. As he reminisces about the bucolic life he and his ancestors once led and compares it with the hardships his people are facing, his sorrow becomes palpable; and as his days draw to a close, the reader sees that even to Black Hawk, the fate of his people appears inevitable.
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- Author: Black Hawk
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βBlack Hawk, take these jewels, a pair of topaz earrings, beautifully set in gold, for your wife or daughter, as a token of friendship, keeping always in mind, that women and children are the favorites of the Great Spirit. These jewels are from an old man, whose head is whitened with the snows of seventy winters, an old man who has thrown down his bow, put off his sword, and now stands leaning on his staff, waiting the commands of the Great Spirit. Look around you, see all this mighty people, then go to your homes, open your arms to receive your families. Tell them to bury the hatchet, to make bright the chain of friendship, to love the white men, and to live in peace with them, as long as the rivers run into the sea, and the sun rises and sets. If you do so, you will be happy. You will then ensure the prosperity of unborn generations of your tribes, who will go hand in hand with the sons of the white men, and all shall be blessed by the Great Spirit. Peace and happiness by the blessing of the Great Spirit attend you. Farewell.β
In reply to this fine talk, I said, βBrother: We like your talk. We like the white people. They are very kind to us. We shall not forget it. Your council is good. We shall attend to it. Your valuable present shall go to my squaw. We shall always be friends.β
The chiefs were particular in showing us everything that they thought would be pleasing or gratifying to us. We went with them to Castle Garden to see the fireworks, which was quite an agreeable entertainment, but to the whites who witnessed it, less magnificent than would have been the sight of one of our large prairies when on fire.
We visited all the public buildings and places of amusement, which, to us, were truly astonishing yet very gratifying.
Everybody treated us with friendship, and many with great liberality. The squaws presented us many handsome little presents that are said to be valuable. They were very kind, very good, and very prettyβ βfor palefaces.
Among the men, who treated us with marked friendship, by the presentation of many valuable presents, I cannot omit to mention the name of my old friend Crooks, of the American Fur Company. I have known him long, and have always found him to be a good chief, one who gives good advice, and treats our people right. I shall always be proud to recognize him as a friend, and glad to shake him by the hand.
Being anxious to return to our people, our guide started with us for our own country. On arriving at Albany, the people were so anxious to see us, that they crowded the streets and wharfs, where the steamboats landed, so much, that it was almost impossible for us to pass to the hotel which had been provided for our reception. We remained here but a short time, it being a comparatively small village, with only a few large public buildings. The great council home of the state is located here, and the big chief (the governor) resides here, in an old mansion. From here we went to Buffalo, thence to Detroit, where I had spent many pleasant days, and anticipated, on my arrival, to meet many of my old friends, but in this I was disappointed. What could be the cause of this? Are they all dead? Or what has become of them? I did not see our old father them, who had always given me good advice and treated me with great friendship.
After leaving Detroit it was but a few days before we landed at Prairie du Chien. The war chief at the fort treated us very kindly, as did the people generally. I called on the agent of the Winnebagoes, (Gen. J. M. Street), to whom I had surrendered myself after the battle at Bad Axe, who received me very friendly. I told him that I had left my great medicine bag with his chiefs before I gave myself up; and now, that I was to enjoy my liberty again, I was anxious to get it, that I might head it down to my nation unsullied.
He said it was safe; he had heard his chiefs speak of it, and would get it and send it to me. I hope he will not forget his promise, as the whites generally do, because I have always heard that he was a good man, and a good father, and made no promise that he did not fulfill.
Passing down the Mississippi, I discovered a large collection of people in the mining country, on the west side of the river, and on the ground that we had given to our relation, Dubuque, a long time ago. I was surprised at this, as I had understood from our Great Father that the Mississippi was to be the dividing line between his red and white children, and he did not wish either to cross it. I was much pleased with this talk, and I knew it would be much better for both parties. I have since found the country much settled by the whites further down, and near to our people, on the west side of the river. I am very much afraid that in a few years they will begin to drive and abuse our people, as they have formerly done. I may not live to see it, but I feel certain the day is not far distant.
When we arrived at Rock Island, Keokuk and the other chiefs were sent for. They arrived the next day with a great number of their young men, and came over to see me. I was pleased to see them, and they
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