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CHAPTER XIV SIR WILLIAM JOHNSON THE story of the
French and Indian wars on our border does not fall within the scope of this
chronicle; but in order to understand the development of New York we must know
something of the conditions which prevailed in the province during that
troubled epoch. The penurious policy pursued by the Dutch and continued by the
English left the colony without defenses on either the northern or southern
boundaries. For a long time the settlers found themselves bulwarked against the
French on the north by the steadfast friendship of the “Six Nations,” comprising
the Mohawks, the Oneidas, the Onondagas, the Cayugas, the Senecas, and the
Tuscaroras; but at last these trusty allies began to feel that the English were
not doing their share in the war. The lack of military preparation in New York
was inexcusable. The niggardliness of the Assembly alienated successive
governors and justified Clinton’s assertion: “If you deny me the necessary
supplies all my endeavors must become fruitless. I must wash my own hands and
leave at your doors the blood of innocent people.” When the Indians
under the leadership of the French actually took the warpath, the colonists at
last awoke to their peril. Upon call of Lieutenant-Governor De Lancey, acting
under instructions of the Lords of Trade, all the colonies north of the Potomac
except New Jersey sent commissioners to a congress at Albany in June, 1754, to
plan measures of defense and of alliance with the Six Nations. Albany was still a
placid little Dutch town. Mrs. Grant of Laggan in Scotland, who visited Albany
in her girlhood, wrote of it afterward with a gentle suavity which lent glamour
to the scenes which she described. She pictures for us a little town in which
every house had its garden at the rear and in front a shaded stoop with seats
on either side where the family gathered to enjoy the twilight. “Each family
had a cow, fed in a common pasture at the end of the town. In the evening they
returned all together, of their own accord, with their tinkling bells hung at
their necks, along the wide and grassy street, to their wonted sheltering
trees, to be milked. At one door were young matrons, at another the elders of
the people, at a third the youths and maidens, gaily chatting or singing
together, while the children played around the trees, or waited by the cows for
the chief ingredient of their frugal supper, which they generally ate sitting
on the steps in the open air.” The court-house of
Albany to which the commissioners journeyed by boat up the Hudson, is described
by Peter Kalm, a Swedish traveler and scientist, as a fine stone building by
the riverside, three stories high with a small steeple containing a bell, and
topped by a gilt ball and weather-vane. From the engraved print which has come
down to us, it seems a barren barrack of a building with an entrance quite inadequate
for the men of distinction who thronged its halls on this memorable occasion. In this congress at
Albany, Benjamin Franklin from Pennsylvania and William Johnson of New York
were the dominating figures. The famous plan of union which Franklin presented
has sometimes made historians forget the services rendered by this redoubtable
Colonel Johnson at a moment when the friendship of the Six Nations was hanging
in the balance. Though gifts had been prepared and a general invitation had
been sent, only a hundred and fifty warriors appeared at Albany and they held
themselves aloof with a distrust that was almost contempt. “Look at the
French!” exclaimed Hendrick, the great chief of the Mohawks. “They are men.
They are fortifying everywhere; but, we are ashamed to say it, you are all like
women — bare and open without any fortifications.” In this crisis all the
commissioners deferred to William Johnson as the one man who enjoyed the
complete confidence of the Six Nations. It was he who formulated the Indian policy
of the congress. He had been born in
Ireland. His mother was Anne Warren, sister to Captain Peter Warren, who
“served with reputation” in the Royal Navy and afterward became Knight of the
Bath and Vice-Admiral of the Red Squadron of the British Fleet. Captain Warren
was less than a dozen years older than his nephew, whom he regarded with
affectionate interest. He described him as “a spritely boy well grown of good
parts and keen wit but most onruly and streperous,” and the sailor added: “I
see the making of a strong man. I shall keep my weather eye on the lad.” The result of this
observation was so favorable that the captain, who was on station in America,
sent for William Johnson to come out and aid him in the development of a real
estate venture. A. large tract of land near the Mohawk River had come into
Warren’s possession, and as a sailor Warren naturally found difficulty in
superintending land at what was then a week’s journey from the seacoast.
“Billy” was his choice as an assistant, and the boy, who was then twenty-three
years old, left the Old World and in 1738 reached the new plantation where his
life-work lay before him. For this he was admirably equipped by his Irish
inheritance of courage, tact, and humor, by his study of English law, and by a
facility in acquiring languages which enabled him to master the Mohawk tongue
in two years after his arrival in New York. The business
arrangement between Captain Warren and his nephew provided that Johnson should
form a settlement on his uncle’s land known as Warrensbush, at the juncture of
Schoharie Kill and the Mohawk, that he should sell farms, oversee settlers,
clear and hedge fields, “girdle” trees (in order to kill them and let in the
sun), purchase supplies, and in partnership with Warren establish a village
store to meet the necessities of the new colonists and to serve as a
trading-station with the Indians. In compensation for his services he was to be
allowed to cultivate a part of the land for himself, though it is hard to
imagine what time or strength could have been left for further exertions after
the fulfillment of the onerous duties marked out for him. A few years after
his arrival at Warrensbush he married a young Dutch or German woman named
Catherine Weisenberg, perhaps an indentured servant whose passage had been
prepaid on condition of service in America. Little is known of the date or
circumstances of this marriage. It is certain only that after a few years
Catherine died, leaving three children, to whom Johnson proved a kind and considerate
father, in spite of an erratic domestic career which involved his taking as the
next head of his household Caroline, niece of the Mohawk chief Hendrick, and
later Molly Brant, sister of the Indian, Joseph Brant. Molly Brant, by
whom Johnson had eight children, was recognized as his wife by the Indians,
while among Johnson’s English friends she was. known euphemistically as “the
brown Lady Johnson.” She presided over his anomalous household with dignity and
discretion; but it is noticeable that Johnson, who. was so willing to defy
public opinion in certain matters, was sufficiently conventional in others, as
we learn from a description of the daily life of the legitimate daughters of
the house. While Mohawk chiefs, Oneida braves, Englishmen of title, and
distinguished guests of every kind thronged the mansion, and while the little
half-breed children played about the lawns and disported themselves on the
shores of Kayaderosseras Creek close at hand, “the young ladies” lived in
almost conventual seclusion. The grim baronial
mansion where this mixed household made its dwelling for many years, was called
variously Mount Johnson, Castle Johnson, and Fort Johnson. It was built in 1742
with such massive walls that the house is still standing in the town of
Amsterdam. In 1755, when the Indian peril loomed large on the horizon, the
original defenses were strengthened, a stockade was built as a further
protection, and from this time on it was called Fort Johnson. Owing perhaps to
Johnson’s precautions and the Indian’s knowledge of his character, the fort was
not attacked and its owner continued to dwell in the house until 1762, when,
having become one of the richest men in the colony, he built on a tract of land
in Johnstown a more ambitious, and, it is to be hoped, a more cheerful mansion
known as Johnson Hall. This house was built of wood with wings of stone,
pierced at the top for muskets. On one side of the house lay a garden and
nursery described as the pride of the surrounding country. Here Johnson lived
with an opulence which must have amazed the simple settlers around him,
especially those who remembered his coming to the colony as a poor youth less
than thirty years earlier. He had in his service a secretary, a physician, a
musician who played the violin for the entertainment of guests, a gardener, a
butler, a waiter named Pontiach, of mixed negro and Indian blood, a pair of
white dwarfs to attend upon himself and his friends, an overseer, and ten or
fifteen slaves. This retinue of
servants was none too large to cope with the unbounded hospitality which
Johnson dispensed. A visitor reports having seen at the Hall from sixty to
eighty Indians at one time lodging under tents on the lawn and taking their
meals from tables made of pine boards spread under the trees. On another
occasion, when Sir William called a council of the Iroquois at Fort Johnson, a
thousand natives gathered, and Johnson’s neighbors within a circuit of twenty
miles were invited to assist in the rationing of this horde of visitors. The landholders
along the Mohawk might well have been glad to share the burden of Sir William’s
tribal hospitality, since its purpose was as much political as social and its
results were of endless benefit to the entire colony. At last the Indians
had found a friend, a white man who understood them and whom they could
understand. He was honest with them and therefore they trusted him. He was
sympathetic and therefore they were ready to discuss their troubles freely with
him. As an Indian of mixed blood declared to the Governor at Albany in speaking
of Sir William: “His knowledge of our affairs, our laws, and our language made
us think he was not like any other white but an Indian like ourselves. Not only
that; but in his house is an Indian woman, and his little children are
half-breed as I am.” The English
therefore were peculiarly fortunate in finding at the most critical stage of
their political dealings with the Indians a representative endowed with the
wisdom and insight of Sir William Johnson. Unlike the French, he did not strive
to force an alien form of worship upon this primitive people. Unlike the Dutch,
he insisted that business should be carried on as honestly with the natives as
with the white men. Unlike his fellow-countrymen, he constantly urged adequate
preparation for war on the part of the English and demanded that they should
bear their share of the burden. In a written report at the Albany congress he
strongly recommended that inasmuch as the Six Nations, owing to their wars with
the French, had fallen short both in hunting and planting, they should be
provided with food from the English supplies. Finally he testified to the
sincerity of his convictions by going to the war himself and rendering valuable
service first as colonel and later as major-general. After the Battle of Lake
George, Johnson was knighted by the King and received a grant of £5000 from
Parliament. In the same year he was appointed by the Crown “Agent and Sole
Superintendent of the Six Nations and other northern Indians “ inhabiting
British territory north of the Carolinas and the Ohio River. Johnson is
described by one who saw him about this time or somewhat earlier as a man of
commanding presence, only a little short of six feet in height, “neck massive,
broad chest and large limbs, great physical strength, the head large and
shapely, countenance open and beaming with good nature, eyes grayish black,
hair brown with tinge of auburn.” His activity took every form and was exerted
in every direction. His documents and correspondence number over six thousand
and fill twenty-six volumes preserved in the State Library. Nor did these
represent his chief activities. He was constantly holding councils with the
native tribes either at Fort Johnson or at the Indian camps. It was he who kept
the Mohawks from joining in Pontiac’s conspiracy which swept the western
border; it was he who negotiated the famous treaty at Fort Stanwix in 1768. In
the midsummer of 1774 he succumbed to an old malady after an impassioned
address to six hundred Iroquois gathered at Johnson Hall. He was one of the
fortunate few whose characters and careers fit exactly. He found scope for
every power that he possessed and he won great rewards. His tireless energy
expressed itself in cultivating thousands of acres and in building houses,
forts, and churches. He dipped a lavish hand into his abundant wealth and
scattered his gold where it was of the greatest service. He loved hospitality
and gathered hundreds round his board. He was a benevolent autocrat and nations
bowed to his will. He paid homage to his King, and died cherishing the illusion
of the value of prerogative. He was fortunate in his death as in his life, for
he was spared the throes of the mighty changes already under way, when the
King’s statue should be pulled down to be melted into bullets, when New York
should merge her identity in the Union of States, and when the dwellers along
the banks of the Hudson and its tributaries should call themselves no longer
Dutch or English but Americans. |
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