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The British Indian Department and the Covenant Chain of Friendship

Originally, the Board of Trade and Plantations in London was responsible for promoting profitable trade and maintaining the loyalty of the indigenous people of North America to the royal cause. Partly in response to the alarming French incursions into the Ohio Valley on the eve of the Seven Years’ War, a more focused and influential British Indian Department received royal approval in 1756. This was a civil agency within the British government representing the Crown in its dealings with the Native peoples of North America. Superintendents of Indian Affairs were appointed for the Northern and Southern areas of the continent east of the Mississippi River.

Sir William Johnson, artist unknown, miniature watercolour on ivory. As northern superintendant of Indian Affairs, Johnson (1715–1774) worked tirelessly to shine brightly the covenant chain of friendship between the British government and His Majesty’s Native Allies. Library and Archives Canada, C-083497.

The first Northern Superintendent of Indian Affairs was the charismatic Sir William Johnson, whose prime responsibility was to maintain the “covenant chain of friendship,” which was a symbol of the friendship and mutual understanding that existed between the British government and His Majesty’s Indian Allies. The Dutch and Mohawks were the first to refer to this covenant metaphorically as a steel chain of friendship that required constant polishing to keep it shining brightly. After the British replaced the Dutch in the Hudson Valley of New York, they assumed the Covenant but now referred to the silver chain of friendship, as silver was more valuable and could be polished more brightly. Through skillful negotiations and calculated interpersonal relationships with Natives and non-Natives alike, Sir William and his family would have a long-lasting influence on Native affairs in British North America and, in particular, Upper Canada.

In the summer of 1764, just after Pontiac’s nearly successful Indian Uprising, Sir William summoned all the First Nations to a Grand Council at Fort Niagara to burnish once again the chain of friendship. On at least one occasion he symbolically crossed over to the west side of the Niagara River to confer with Natives encamped there on the plain opposite the fort.[1]

During and after the American Revolutionary War, the British Indian Department at Niagara was based in “The Bottoms.” This was a collection of ramshackle buildings physically and symbolically outside the bastions of Fort Niagara on the edge of the Niagara River. During the war, the quasi-military Indian Department was permitted by the British Army to grant commissions within the Department.[2] These officers, who often led Native warriors in action, were on the same footing as those fighting in other provincial corps.[3] Most of the men in the Department, known generally as rangers or foresters, eventually became Butler’s Rangers after Butler received his “Beating order” in September 1777. With the disbanding of the Rangers in 1784, Lieutenant Colonel John Butler served ably as Deputy Agent for Indian Affairs at Niagara.

In his “Instructions for the good Government of the Branch of the Indian Department,”[4] Sir John Johnson (who inherited his father’s baronetcy and eventually assumed the position of superintendant), encouraged the Deputy Agent of Indian Affairs at Detroit, Alexander McKee,

to employ your utmost endeavours to promote His Majesty’s Indian Interest in general, by keeping up a friendly intercourse and Communication between all the Indian Nations assuring them of the King’s paternal care and regard as long as they continue to merit them by acting as good and obedient children ought to do … As these people consider themselves free and independent, and are in fact unaquainted with controul [sic] and subordination, they are alone to be govern by address and persuasion, and they require the utmost attention to ceremonies and external appearances, with an uncommon share of patience, good temper and forbearance.

No doubt a similar document was sent to John Butler at Niagara.

In anticipation that Fort Niagara would eventually be surrendered to the Americans, the British Indian Department maintained its presence at “The Bottoms,” but became increasingly more active on the Canadian side of the river. It was imperative that the covenant chain be maintained with the newly arrived peoples of the loyal Six Nations, who would soon take up their tract of land on the Grand River. A traveller to Niagara in 1785 noted that there was a barracks “for the savages” on the west side of the river.[5] Three years later another visitor reported four hundred to five hundred Natives were often encamped near the Rangers’ barracks.[6] Soon, the Department received permission to convert one of the old empty Rangers’ barracks into a blacksmith shop.[7] Nearby, silversmith John Bachus set up shop.[8] Presumably he was producing Indian trade silver for the Department. With the American occupation of Fort Niagara and the Bottoms in 1796 in compliance with Jay’s Treaty, the British Indian Department had to establish quickly a permanent and consolidated presence near but not within the newly built Fort George on the west side of the Niagara River.

The erection of a substantial Council House would signify the British government’s firm commitment to maintaining the strong chain of friendship with the Native peoples. In 1797, the Indian Department purchased Administrator Peter Russell’s leased property, which included his “Commodious Dwelling” and fifty acres in the midst of the Military Reserve. The comfortable Georgian home was used for offices, meeting rooms, and accommodation for the officials and officers of the Indian Department. Across the creek that ran through the property, the Indian Council House was built at seventy-two feet long, twenty-six feet wide, and twenty feet high. Quarters for the store keeper, three interpreters, and a blacksmith were apparently erected nearby.[9] Because of its size, the Council House appears to have been used for other purposes as well. In 1807 Lieutenant Governor Sir Francis Gore held a grand ball and supper in Niagara for which the Indian Council House was fitted up along with a temporary thirty-foot-long shed to accommodate all the guests for supper.[10]

Indian trade silver, photo by Sergio Martin. The indigenous peoples of North America wore shiny shells fashioned into various designs as a form of self-adornment and to reflect away evil spirits. With the arrival of the Europeans brightly polished silver became highly coveted. Pictured in the centre is a large silver brooch or ear wheel, marked by early silversmith John Kinzie. The three “double heart” brooches above, in the Luckenbooth style, were favoured by the Iroquois. The brooches in the Masonic pattern below were also popular among the Iroquois.

Courtesy of the author.

Hundreds, and at times thousands, of Natives encamped on the grounds surrounding the Council House and Officers’ Quarters,[11] usually in late summer or fall. Weather permitting, the officials would confer outside in view and within hearing range of all — the principals retreating inside only in inclement weather.

As Sir John intimated, the Natives were sticklers for tradition and deeply resented and resisted any attempt by government officials to speed up the deliberations. Alan Taylor, in his book The Divided Ground, describes the strict protocol of Indian councils:

Upon arriving at the council fire, the visitors entered in ceremonial procession. In welcome, the host conducted the “At the Wood’s Edge” ritual, ushering them out of the chaotic world of the forest and into the ordered stability of the council ground. In patient succession, the host cleared eyes, ears, and throats of the dust so that the visitors could watch patiently, listen carefully, and speak freely in the coming days. After at least a night’s rest, the formal council began with a condolence ceremony that acknowledged recent losses to death, especially of prominent chiefs or colonial officials. The ceremony metaphorically covered graves, dried tears, and cleansed minds of grief, so that all could think and speak peacefully in the coming days.

Only after these preliminaries could a polite host propose substantial business, with each proposal accompanied by a string or belt of wampum passed across the council fire to an Indian spokesman. Made of many small seashell or glass tubes strung in patterns of alternating dark and light color, wampum represented the interplay of death and life, of war and peace. As a sacred substance, wampum confirmed the earnest importance of a message. Without accompanying wampum, words were frivolous.[12]

Deliberations would last for days. The Natives, being from an oral culture, understandably distrusted the power of the colonials’ written documents. As Taylor points out, “[t]o impress memories, Indians preferred the methodical and rhythmic repetition of shared sentiments and histories expressed through prolonged rituals and speeches.”[13] Native spokesmen often used many metaphors in their speeches, which lent a simple yet poignant elegance to their messages. The Native spokesmen, chosen for their eloquence, were not necessarily the most powerful of their people. Definitive answers to propositions were never expected to be given until at least the next day. The Natives would return with appropriate wampum strings or belts to be accepted by the colonial host, who was then expected to ponder a reply overnight. For their part, the interpreters with the Indian Department were often young men who had learned Indian dialects from Native childhood friends or had themselves been captives at one time. The Department’s agents were encouraged to select “one or two sober and intelligent Chiefs” to act as a prepared “Speaker” who would act as intermediary between the interpreter and the guest Chiefs so that the proper message would be conveyed.[14]

The strict decorum of the daytime public sessions gave way to raucous celebrations on the Council House grounds at day’s end. In lingering daylight young Natives engaged in competitive games similar to lacrosse. With nightfall the campfire became the centre of feasting, singing, and dancing to the rhythm of drums and beating sticks. Also at night, colonial hosts often conferred privately with smaller groups of influential chiefs. Known as “speaking in the bushes,” these conferences were probably when most deals were really struck.

The council would finally conclude with a sumptuous feast and presentation of gifts and provisions, not only for all those attending, but for the sick and elderly kin at home. British officials would also pledge the king’s continued friendship and protection. On occasion the chiefs would be presented with silver peace medals bearing the king’s profile.

No first-hand depiction of any councils at Niagara has survived, but it must have been a most impressive vista on the Military Reserve. The British Army officers in regimental dress uniforms and officials of the British Indian Department, also in quasi-British-military coats, would sit on chairs on one side of the secretary’s table. Opposite them would be several Indian chiefs in their full regalia, seated in front of a huge semi-circle of Natives, with lesser chiefs at the front and behind. Hundreds or even thousands of warriors and matrons would sit on either benches or colourful blankets on the grass, all watching and listening intently. Around the periphery would be scads of children and camp dogs, beyond which would be hundreds of Native tents, campfires, and tethered horses. The pungent aromas of sweetgrass, tobacco, and wood fires would waft about the assembled. Standing in the grassy midst of the Commons today, one can imagine the drama unfolding with a real life cast of thousands.

One of the most important councils held at Niagara was in November 1796, before the Indian Council House was even built. The council was probably held on the Military Reserve outside the fort that was still under construction or the old Butler’s Rangers’ Barracks site.[15] With the recent death of John Butler, William Claus,[16] grandson of Sir William Johnson, had just been appointed Deputy Superintendent of the Six Nations at Fort George. At the 1796 Council,[17] Captain Joseph Brant, with power of attorney for all the Six Nations, proclaimed the Six Nations had the sovereign right to sell off some of their Grand River lands to third parties without the consent of the Crown. He argued that although the Iroquois Confederacy had been granted a vast tract of land along the Grand River by Governor Haldimand, only two thousand Natives actually inhabited the land, and hence such a large tract of land exclusively for themselves was not needed since many of the Natives were indifferent to cultivating the land. Moreover, with the surrounding white settlements already encroaching on Indian lands and the game already scarce in the Grand River area, the Native peoples were no longer able to survive on hunting and were already reduced to poverty and, at times, starvation. Brant had devised a plan whereby large sections of the original grant were sold to non-Native investors, with the proceeds of the sales used to set up an annuity fund to provide lasting support for his Native peoples. Claus countered that since the Six Nations’ original ancestral lands were in upstate New York, they were not a sovereign nation in Upper Canada since the Grand River lands had been granted to them by the Crown. Moreover, according to the Royal Proclamation of 1763, in the event that the Natives decided to sell some of their reserve lands, only the Crown could purchase such lands. Such arguments would have important constitutional implications for future relations between the Native peoples and the various levels of government in Canada. Brant was furious. With the chain of friendship now grimly tarnished for the next two years, there were very real concerns the Six Nations would “raise the hatchet” in retaliation against the king’s subjects.

Thayendanegea (Joseph Brant), artist William Berczy, oil on canvas, circa 1807. As Mohawk chief and principal war leader of the Six Nations on the Grand River tract, Brant (1742–1807) was a frequent spokesman at the Indian Council House on the Commons. His sister, Molly Brant, was the second wife of Sir William Johnson.

Photo © National Gallery of Canada, National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa #5777.

Eventually a compromise was reached whereby large tracts of land already sold to non-Natives were recognized by the government. When the hesitant Peter Russell, then Upper Canada’s administrator, met with Brant in council at Niagara to publicly formalize the agreement the following July, up to three hundred young warriors had unexpectedly accompanied Brant.[18] Since this probably exceeded the entire adult male population of Newark, including the garrison, Russell later admitted to his displeased superiors in London that he had felt “not a little intimidated” to reluctantly sign the agreement without their prior approval.[19] During the ceremony Brant “eagerly” took Russell’s hand and declared that, “they would now all fight for the King to the last drop of their Blood.”[20] Had Russell delayed signing the agreement, his negotiation stance would have been further compromised with the surprise arrival of Chiefs Red Jacket[21] and Farmers Brother,[22] accompanied by yet another two hundred warriors of the Seneca Nation from the United States[23] the next day.

Until then, the British Indian Department at Niagara served the Six Nations on the Grand River and, theoretically, those still living on reserves on the American side.[24] The Council House was open to the Mississauga Indians and any other Native group that might wander through. In an attempt to thwart Joseph Brant from uniting all the Natives against the interests of the government, the Mississaugas were forced to travel to York, where a new Indian Department was established under Major James Givins.[25]

Meanwhile William Claus carried out his responsibilities at Niagara, dispensing annual presents and provisions to the Natives and calling Indian councils when necessary to address specific domestic and political concerns. In 1799, with the death of Alexander McKee at Amherstburg, William Claus was appointed Deputy Superintendent and Inspector General of Indian Affairs, a post he would hold until 1826. His uncle, Sir John Johnson, pleased with the appointment, commented that Claus was now “set up for life,”[26] although he did worry about his nephew’s health given Niagara’s reputation as an unhealthy locale.

In August 1808 Claus reported that “a vast number of Indians are at this Post … [and they] complain of the great distress they are in for Bread,” but they had also informed him that they would “sit quiet in case of any quarrel between the King and America.”[27] The following March he reported on another meeting at the Council House in which the Natives remained aloof to any military alliance but complained of ongoing difficulty with local white settlers “stealing their hogs,” working their horses, and settling on their lands, all without redress.[28]

During the War of 1812 the Grand River Six Nations and their allies did eventually side with the British and played an important role in many of the battles.[29] Early in the morning of October 13, 1812, Six Nations warriors were encamped at the Indian Council House; their leader, Chief John Norton, saw General Brock gallop off towards Queenston. Soon the warriors were ordered to follow along the River Road and played a decisive role in the Battle of Queenston Heights. On November 5, 1812, a solemn memorial service was held in the Council House. In the presence of military and British Indian Department officials, Brock was eulogized by Chief Little Cayuga, who presented eight white strings of wampum. A large white belt of wampum was also presented to cover Brock’s grave.[30]

Portrait of Major John Norton (Teyoninhokarawen), artist Solomon Williams, oil, 1804. Adopted as a nephew by Joseph Brant, upon the latter’s death Norton eventually became a chief of war and diplomacy among the Mohawks. During the War of 1812 he questioned the authority of the British Indian Department and lead His Majesty’s Indian Allies in all the battles on the Niagara Peninsula save one. © Canadian War Museum #1995009-001.

Spirits were running high again on the Commons several weeks later. Having successfully repulsed another American invading force near Fort Erie, the Natives and some troops returned in triumph to Fort George. As one town person reported they “encamped on the skirts of the woods back of the town [and kept] us alive with their war dances and [made] the dark cedar woods echo with savage yells.”[31]

Early in the morning of May 27 the following year, fifty Natives under Chief John Norton, accompanied by several officers of the Indian Department, were lying in wait along the fog-enshrouded shore of Lake Ontario near One Mile Pond. Suddenly a fierce bombardment from American ships offshore cut into the defenders, killing Indian Department clerk and storekeeper Lieutenant William Johnson Chew and several Natives. Despite the valiant but unsuccessful attempt to defend the town of Niagara and Fort George against the invading Americans, the British forces retreated towards Burlington; the Natives successfully covered their retreat. During the American occupation of the fort and town of Niagara during the summer and fall of 1813, the British Indian Department encouraged up to eight hundred Natives to lurk in the woods nearby and harass the Americans, including their Native allies, whenever they attempted to venture forth outside Fort George.[32] During the occupation, the Americans were especially vengeful towards those families known to be directly connected with the Indian Department.[33]

By the time the war officially ended on Christmas Eve 1814 with the signing of the Treaty of Ghent, perhaps as many as half of all the Grand River Six Nations’ warriors had been killed or wounded.[34]

Plan, Section and Elevation of the New Hospital at Fort George, technical drawings, 1823. The central portion of the new hospital was originally the post-war (1816) Indian Council House. Library and Archives Canada H3/450/Niagara/1823, NMC#5223.

In the summer of 1815, an important council of international repercussions was held at Niagara, probably near the site of the old Council House that had been burned during the war. Bitter enemies during the war, the Iroquois of the Grand River and those of New York State met to negotiate peace between them and between the king and the New York Natives. White wampum belts were exchanged to finalize the end of hostilities and the removal of ill will from their hearts.[35]

By August 1815 a contract had been approved to build a new Council House, measuring fifty-five feet by thirty-six feet, along with a “dwelling house” and a store house.[36] However, with the threat of war over, His Majesty’s Indian Allies were now less important to the British government, and the British Indian Department’s influence at Niagara subsequently dwindled. By 1819 the Six Nations of the Grand River were directed to travel to York or Burlington for their annual bounty. The Indian Council House at Niagara was now empty. The resourceful regimental surgeon at Butler’s Barracks, Reid, requested that the empty Council House be used as a temporary hospital.[37] Extensive renovations were carried out, with the building of new foundations and the joining of the three buildings together[38] (see chapter 11). The last physical vestige of the British Indian Department at Niagara was now extinguished.

Nevertheless, there were still occasional Indian Council meetings at Niagara. William Claus, suffering from horribly disfiguring and painful cancer of the lip, presided over his last council meeting at Niagara in August 1826.[39] As late as 1833 the Natives were still coming to Niagara, as an account has survived in which John Claus claimed expenses for “entertaining Indians at Fort George.”[40] However, by the 1830s the role of the Indian Department was revised by the colonial government to promote the “civilizing” of the Natives and to establish a system of land reserves.

A hand-written inscription was found on the “south wall of the [powder] magazine on the Garrrison Commons of old Fort George”:

A PATRIOT, AUGUST 18, 1890

INDIAN CHIEF, A DESCENDANT OF THE ALLIES OF GREAT BRITAIN[41]