In trying to decide what to write for this important day of remembrance, it occurred to me, just write what's been on your mind lately. And that centers around my families migration to my home state, the state that bears the name we used to call Native Americans: INDIANA.
In these maps, you'll see a list of treaties made with the Native Peoples of Indiana and the boundaries that once existed, albeit not for very long. Because as is consistent with our history, every treaty the U.S. Government signed was an incognito declaration of war. Thanks to the European-bred idea of Manifest Destiny, we believed these so-called treaties could be disregarded anytime God ordained that we move westward. But I'll leave the broader topics of white imperialism, extremism and colonialism alone for now.
This ideal drove my family westward into the barely tamed wilderness called the Indian Territory (the Northwest Territory until May 7, 1800). The James Mills family vacated the confines of western Maine to conquer the wilds of Southwest Indiana. Several factors came into play, including the dividing of the territory which I noted above, which came by Act of Congress, the Louisiana Purchase of 1803 and the great expedition that was to commence the following year, led by Lewis & Clark. That same year, 1804, Governor Harrison helped guide treaty talks with Natives in the southern portion of Indiana, along the Ohio Valley, resulting in the Treaty of Vincennes (note the green-shaded area on the map, above left).
So it was the opening of the Indiana Territory by early settlers (pre-1800), many from Southern States, along with new treaties to calm fears of "Indian attacks," and the exploration of new American soil West of the Mississippi, that made my homestate a destination for intrepid New England pioneers, like my Mills and Husseys (note the Hussey name on the map, above right, in Section 12). The Mills are said to have landed at Smith's Landing (present day Evansville) on New Years Day 1811. To the left of the Hussey name in Sec 12 on the map above, to the left you'll notice the Olds family in Sec 11. That was land originally settled by James Mills and family from Kennebec, Maine, circa 1811-12. Note the existence of an Indian Boundary just to the south of that. The area we are talking about is the Fairview Community near Francisco, IN, less than a mile downhill from the current-day church that bears that name. This is the church whose cemetery holds the remains of several generations of my family.
At the time, there was a nearby Indian reservation opposite the conjunction of Indian Creek (to the south) and the Patoka River. They were holdouts from the earlier 1804 Treaty and were probably Miami or Kickapoo or Potowami (the European names for these native peoples). My family was friendly with them. In fact, I had an aunt who became a teacher on their small reservation in central Gibson County.
But the point of this blog post is not to praise the white expansion into native lands, just to point out what had to be sacrificed for my pioneer ancestors to claim rights to this land, soon to be named Indiana.
At the time of their arrival, by flatboat along the Ohio River, General Harrison was organizing troops to advance north against the nations who had rallied around Tecumseh and his brother, The Prophet. The Battle of Tippecanoe occurred in northern Indiana Territory in November 1811. That infamous battle would push the native peoples further north (Tecumseh was finally defeated by U.S. forces in Detroit the following year) and launch William Henry Harrison's presidential campaign. He ran as a Whig under the slogan, "Tippecanoe and Tyler, Too!" But think of all the carnage, from Tippecanoe in 1811 and the Battle of 1812, that was fought not only against the British Empire, but the Native people of America, as well. A lot of native blood had to be shed to give my family the right to claim this land, which James Mills made official at the Land Office in Vincennes in the 1820's and 30's.
That land was not ours to take. We were an enemy invader.
And that is why, on this day formerly claimed as Columbus Day, I choose to celebrate Indigenous Peoples Day. Because even though my pioneer ancestors seemed to live peaceably alongside the native inhabitants of Indiana Territory, their stories are much grimmer. They were either killed or violently forced off of land, homesteads, farms and hunting grounds, their ancestors had claimed many generations earlier. Those Indigenous People lived off the land but were also one with it in their spiritual practice. Tecumseh's brother, The Prophet, was merely trying to save and uphold ancient practices and beliefs before he was murdered at Tippecanoe. Harrison, as it turns out, was the shortest term president in history, dying within a month of taking up residence in our White House. A curse, perhaps? Karma?
I'm thankful for my pioneer ancestry and being given the opportunity to grow up in the Heartland of America. I don't appreciate being indoctrinated by white privilege and the idea that this land was our's by God's design. So today, I stand with Native Americans who had no reason to be tortured, enslaved or killed by white Europeans when all they wanted was to live peaceably on their native lands.
