Henry Knox sat on one side of the table.
Alexander McGillivray sat on the other. For almost a month, Knox,
George Washington's Secretary of War, and McGillivray, the Chief of the
Creek Nation, hammered out the details. Earlier negotiations at Rock
Landing (in what is today central Georgia) had failed. That is why
Washington urged McGillivray to come to New York for a summit of
principals. Washington personally greeted the Creek chief before turning
over negotiations to his most trusted advisor. And soon they reached an
agreement. The Treaty of New York was ratified by the Senate on 7
August 1790. Had it been successfully implemented, American history
might have turned out quite different.
We often assume a certain
inevitability in the way we think about American-Indian relations; we
assume that relationships between the two peoples were unvaried and that
the course of events was more or less fixed. Americans, driven by greed
and racism and notions of "manifest destiny," marched inexorably
westward towards annihilation of Native Americans. And Indians,
decimated by disease and overwhelmed by American power, were forced into
unbroken retreat from the day Europeans set foot on their continent.
But
the truth of the matter is that in 1790, the course of future events
was not fixed; history's path had not been set. In fact, while Native
Americans had been largely driven from the eastern seaboard, they still
retained firm control over territories in the interior. Moreover, the
relationship between Anglo-Americans and American Indians was complex
and fluid; US policymakers had not yet established a consensus about how
to move forward, and Indians were also debating what strategies to
employ in defending their lands.
McGillivray
and Knox personified the complexity of Indian-American affairs. The
Creek chief was of mixed blood; his father was a Scot and his mother was
half French. This meant that the powerful Creek leader was really only
one-quarter Indian. But since his grandmother was Creek, and according
to Indian custom, identity was passed matrilineally, McGillivray was
considered Creek.
McGillivray's atypical bloodlines were echoed
by his unusual upbringing and wealth. He was educated at British schools
in Charleston and spoke five languages. As a young man he used his
skills and connections to build a thriving commercial empire among the
southern tribes. By the time he was 30, he lived in a large home, owned
more than fifty slaves, and was recognized as the Creeks'
power-to-be-reckoned-with by the British, Spanish, and Americans.
But
McGillivray was also a physical mess. Alcoholism, rheumatism, and
syphilis wracked his body. While shrewd, and wealthy, he was the
physical opposite of the giant he faced during treaty negotiations.
Henry Knox weighed more than 300 pounds. (As did his wife—collectively
the quarter-ton duo was known politely as the "largest couple in the
city."13) But sheer mass
aside, Knox was in many respects as unlikely a secretary of war as
McGillivray was an Indian chief. Born in Boston, he left school at age
eleven to clerk in a bookstore. He owned his own shop by the time the
first fighting of the Revolutionary War broke out in 1775. All that Knox
knew about warfare was what he'd learned in books, but he impressed
General Washington and over the course of the war rose to become one of
the general's most trusted officers.
McGillivray and Knox,
therefore, although physically quite different, shared atypical paths to
power. More importantly, they agreed that the earlier policies of the
federal government had been horribly misguided.
In
the Treaty of Paris, which ended the American Revolution, Great Britain
ceded to the United States all of its territories south of Canada and
east of the Mississippi River. For Native Americans, the treaty was a
colossal catastrophe.
For starters, it represented a huge
betrayal of their interests by the British. Many tribes had formed
alliances with the British, but now they saw their lands signed away
with a scratch of the pen. Nor did this simply mean that one white
nation had replaced another. American Indians had managed to carve out a
relatively balanced relationship with the British. By the end of the
French and Indian War, the British had conceded that the Indians
possessed "the right of the soil" as prior occupants. This meant that
the British could not simply take Indian lands; they could only be
acquired through treaty and purchase.
But now this legal status
was signed away by the defeated British. Americans were granted Indian
lands through "conquest" and Indians were reduced to a defeated,
"subject" people. This was bad enough for those tribes who had allied
with the British, but the treaty failed to differentiate between these
and other tribes. Many had carefully carved out neutral positions during
the war, and many had actually sided with the Americans, in the war's
aftermath these profound differences proved meaningless; all Indians and
their lands were lumped into the same category of the "conquered."
Adding
to the confusion was the simple fact that even among those tribes
siding with the British, few had experienced any sort of massive
military defeat, any sort of battlefield failure that would make
understandable their new status as a defeated and thus subject people.
In other words, for Native Americans, the world had changed enormously
on paper, but nothing in their own experience confirmed this parchment
defeat.
Thus, American attempts to implement the Treaty of Paris
were met with confusion. Representatives were dispatched to the major
tribes of the south and west to secure treaties acknowledging the
Indians loss of land and status. At Fort Stanwix in 1784 and Fort
McIntosh in 1785, the tribes of the Ohio Valley, or at least some tribal
members, were bullied into land cessions based on these premises. As an
American negotiator explained when Indians balked at the terms being
offered, "You are mistaken in supposing you are a free and independent
nation. . . . You are a subdued people, you have been overcome in war in
which you entered into with
us."14
But the
impossibility of securing lasting treaties founded on such unreal
premises was quickly proven. Tribes immediately denounced the bogus
treaties and launched attacks against the equally deluded white pioneers
entering their territories to settle on theoretically empty lands.
This
was the situation that McGillivray and Knox set out to correct. They
approached these events of the 1780s from different angles, but they
both recognized that the approach taken by the United States after 1783
was badly flawed. For McGillivray, American policies simply did not
square with realties on the ground. In the vast Creek territories, he
led a nation of 25,000 people. If it came to war, he could deliver 5000
Creek warriors to the field and an equal number of Cherokee, Choctaw,
and Chickasaw allies.15
Moreover, he had cultivated a strong relationship with the Spanish, who
were willing to provide any Indian alliance with the materials it needed
to keep the Americans away from their own holdings to the southwest.
Knox
also recognized the strength of the Creeks in the southeast. He was a
military man and realized that controlling the southern tribes by force
would be costly. He calculated that war against a southeastern Indian
alliance would cost close to $15
million.16 But Knox's
position was philosophical as well as pragmatic. He believed that the
principles of the revolution for which he had fought were being tested.
Republics did not impose their will on people through brute force; they
respected human rights and followed natural law. American policy,
therefore, should be guided by a different set of principles. Indian
rights of soil should be acknowledged; their legitimate claims as first
occupants should be recognized. Indian lands should be protected from
white encroachment, with federal troops if necessary.
The Treaty
negotiated by McGillivray and Knox incorporated these principles. The
Creek chief tempered his original demand and accepted an eastern border
of the Oconee, rather than the Ogeechee River. But in return, Knox
acknowledged that vast lands to the west (present day Alabama and parts
of Georgia, Tennessee, Mississippi, and Florida) belonged to the Creeks
and guaranteed that their border would be policed by federal troops. The
United States also promised to provide the tools and livestock needed
to turn the Creeks from hunters into farmers. In this way, they would
advance toward a "greater degree of
civilization."17
Implicit
within this clause was Knox's belief that as the Creeks progressed,
their territorial needs would diminish. Excess lands could then be sold
to the federal government for resale to white settlers. With the
proceeds, the Creeks would be able to build roads and schools, and
progress still further on the path toward "civilized life."
It's
easy to be cynical about this final clause, and tempting to find in
Knox's civilizing scenario a thinly veiled scheme to deprive Indians of
their lands. And indeed, in the years following the treaty,
Anglo-American settlers poured into the Creek territories and the
federal government did not do nearly enough to stop them. Urged on by
more overt expansionists like William Blount, governor of the Southwest
Territory, settlers ignored the barriers defined by the 1790 agreement.
Knox and President Washington were unequivocal in identifying who was at
fault. "A lawless set of unprincipled wretches" were running roughshod
over the "most solemn treaties," Washington complained. But in sending
only a scanty force of federal troops to police the border, the
administration's actions failed to match its rhetoric.
Certainly,
McGillivray lost faith in Knox and the integrity of the
administration's commitments. Angered by the government's failure to
enforce the treaty terms, he reached out to his old Spanish allies. In
1792, he signed a treaty with Spain that pledged both the Creeks and the
Spanish to resist American encroachment on Creek territories.
It
is even easier to be suspicious of the Washington-Knox Indian policy as
it was applied in the Northwest Territory. Initially, they introduced
the same philosophical principles in their dealings with the Indians of
the Ohio Valley. In 1789, at Fort Harmer, American ambassadors signed
new agreements providing compensation for the lands bullied away from
the Indians at Forts Stanwix and McIntosh a few years earlier. American
commissioners followed up with offers to buy "surplus" Indian lands to
absorb the flow of western migrants. But when the Indians of the Ohio
Valley rebuffed these offers––at least in part because British forces
occupying Canadian forts near the Great Lakes encouraged them to do
so––Knox authorized territorial governor Arthur St. Clair to launch a
small punitive expedition.
The St. Clair expedition backfired
horribly. Caught completely by surprise in a pre-dawn raid, St. Clair's
force of 1400 suffered more than 900 casualties. Only 580 men eventually
made their way back to Fort
Washington.18 Aimed at
making the Ohio Indians more compliant treaty partners, the St. Clair
expedition instead served to stiffen Indian resistance. The Ohio Valley
Indians now drew an even harder line on white expansion and insisted
that the line of settlement be pushed back several hundred miles to the
Ohio River.
Facing entrenched opposition, and simply unwilling to
surrender lands already surveyed and sold at auction to land
speculators and farmers, Knox and Washington sent an army of more than
5000 soldiers under General Anthony Wayne to the Ohio Valley. At Fallen
Timbers, Wayne routed the coalition of Shawnee, Miami, Delaware, Ottawa,
and Ojibwa Indians who gathered to fight him. The following spring, the
defeated tribes were forced to sign the Treaty of Greenville,
surrendering most of present-day Ohio to the United States.
In
both the Northwest and the Southeast, Knox's rights-based approach to
the nation's "prior occupants" ultimately failed. Treaty agreements were
violated, borders were not policed, and military power was used to
force land cessions. If Knox and Washington were sincere in hoping to
place US-Indian relations on a more just footing, why did they fail?
Part
of the problem for Washington and Knox was practical. The Creek border,
for example, was more than 500 miles long. Policing it effectively
would require 10,000 troops and a new string of federal posts. But the
entire US Army at the time totaled just over 1000 men and, given
Americans' preference for militias over standing armies, it is doubtful
that the public would have tolerated a ten-fold increase in its size.
Another
part of the problem was political. The relationship between the federal
and state governments was still being worked out. In the Southeast,
Georgia was anxious to reduce the autonomy of the Indians living within
its boundaries, and the state was also interested in acquiring and
selling the lands protected by the federal government. A clash with
Georgia at this particular time, on this particular issue, would be
risky for the new government.
And finally, the problem was also
philosophical. The revolutionary principles that guided Knox and
Washington ultimately proved a poor basis for a more progressive Indian
policy. Knox and Washington were committed to human rights and natural
law, but they also were committed to the enlightenment-based
understanding of progress that went hand-in-hand with these principles.
Within this broader philosophical construct, "civilization" assumed only
one form. It was characterized by farming, not hunting; by the
extension of commerce, not the preservation of a wilderness existence.
Washington and Knox wanted to preserve Indian rights, but this goal
could not be separated from the advancement of a European-based
understanding of progress—of the movement westward of roads and bridges,
churches and schools. They believed that the Indians possessed rights
to the soil, but they also believed that history followed a specific
course.
As offensive and unruly as the white settlers could be,
in the eyes of Knox and Washington, they were advancing the frontier of
civilization; they were extending farming and commerce into the
interior. Moreover, they too were living out principles of the
Revolution. They were exploring the liberty and unfettered opportunity
made possible by independence. On the other hand, when Indians rebuffed
American advances or conspired with America's enemies, they simply
failed to fit into the optimistic scenario laid out by Knox. When they
rejected his generous overtures and turned instead to the Spanish or
British, they fell outside his too-optimistic sense of the historical
process. When they refused to sell the "surplus" land that he predicted
would become available as civilization advanced, their claims under
natural law became tenuous.
In the final analysis, the diplomatic
route to a different course of events was doomed by the very principles
that inspired it. In 1790, Knox believed that all the parts of his
vision could be neatly reconciled. A child of the Enlightenment, he
believed that there was a grand symmetry to the great ideals and truths
of the universe. Rights, Liberty, and Progress were all part of a
beautifully crafted fabric; Indian rights, American liberty, and the
advance of "Civilization" could be simultaneously pursued.
He was wrong.