Cobmoosa's stature, demeanor and manner of his walking abilities gave him his name, "The Great Grand Walker." The Indians on the Pentwater Reservation waited patiently for the aged Cobmoosa to return. His people of long ago led him personally to his knew log cabin built for the "Last Ottawa Chief of the Grand and Flat River valleys."
On the day of arrival he stood at the cabin's threshold, but before he could go inside he had to provide his proof to his claim as Cobmoosa and President Andrew Jackson provided him with the key. Standing outside the cabin door he greeted old friends and after a short visitation the day was at hand and he pulled out of his clothing a rawhide poke with drawstrings. He spread the rawhide strings and poured out the contents in his hand to prove he indeed was Cobmoosa in the flesh and out tumbled proof positive he was Cobmoosa. In his hands were minted coins dated 1836... but coins with a special inscription, but Cobmoosa didn't receive payment until two years after the Treaty of Washington - 1836 was signed.
1836-1837 was a turbulent time in America. It was a time of great prosperity under President Jackson's administration. For the first and only time Jackson had entirely liquidated the National Debt and the U.S. Treasury had accumulated a surplus of 40 million dollars. By an Act of Congress the vast sum was distributed to "Petty Banks" among several states. With the abundance of money speculations of all sorts grew and it affected Indian life, too. Land speculations went wild with the openings of new Federal lands purchased from the Indians.
Credit for goods had been around for several years and from Jackson's spies within the tribes he knew the credit bartering for goods and services was fleecing the Indians, because they knew little nor understood if they were getting a good deal. Unscrupulous traders were fleecing them of their annuity payments. And so the government's policy in dealing with the Indian's under the Jackson administration was to buy them out not with paper currency, but gold and silver coinage. Jackson had the foresight to understand that prior to 1836 and the signing of the latest treaties that the credit system had invaded every aspect of business. Indians were disgruntled - so too many speculators whose fortunes would fall.
It was the government and the peoples desire to expand westward into territories occupied by Indian tribes and so President Jackson lumped the desires of his people with Indian payments for land. The petty banks thrived from a few in 1836 to more than 700 before the close of 1837. The Indians perceived that payment would begin shortly after signing treaties, but it wasn't until 1838 and during that time the Indians were given credit for goods and supplies - the interest on such monies owed was 30%. This is what increased the fraud against the Indians or anyone dickering without money. Vast issues of irredeemable paper currency stimulated the speculative spirit with increased the opportunities of fraud.
The bills of these unsound banks were receivable at land offices; and settlers and speculators made a mad rush to secure the public lands while the money was plentiful. In receiving such an unsound currency in exchange for the national domain the government was more likely to be defrauded out of millions. So six weeks after the Treaty of 1836 was signed President Jackson issued a species order called the 'Specie Circular', by which all land agents were directed to receive nothing, but coin in payment for public and Indian lands. Jackson's circular order did not affect his presidency so much as that of President Van Buren's administration in 1837.
In the meantime the interests of the government had been secured through Jackson's vigilance.
It is necessary for you to understand all the ramifications of Jackson's specie circular and then I will reveal what the coins in Cobmoosa's hands were to provide positive proof what Chiefs were paid for Indian lands. (continued).
Monday, October 19, 2015
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Legends of Chief Cobmoosa & Pres. A.J. -28
The Ottawas that left the Ionia, Michigan area in 1858 and had been waiting for Chief Cobmoosa to arrive at the Pentwater Reservation before the end of 1860. Since he didn't arrive they feared he may have died along the way, but such was not the case. He pushed himself to exhaustion and had to stop his labored journey to regain his strength. The brutal winds and blinding snowstorms got the best of him, but after a little rest he trudged onward towards Grand Haven.
Strange as it might seem word of his arrival that year would be short lived at the reservation. Indians on the reservation heard reports about his arrival at Grand Haven. Those who knew Cobmoosa feared he might try walking to the Reservation, but some, too, knew his fear of water and hoped he would regain his courage and step onto a steamer and forget the perilous walk. His people were waiting patiently for him to arrive in the Spring of 1861 and once the new shipping season commenced he hoped to board an upward bound Lake Michigan steamer. From where he would originate was unknown. What they did know was that he would arrive by foot on his own accord.
Someone in Grand Haven gave the aged Chief Cobmoosa shelter at the docks in Grand Haven during the winter of 1861-62. It was during that time he began to hear rumors that Washington was preparing for war shortly. The docks were abuzz with talk about a Civil War - the northern states against the southern states. Cobmoosa for the first time in his Indian life was really alone and was looking forward to greeting old friends at the reservation when he was told that on April 12, 1861 the attack on Fort Sumter in Charleston, South Carolina started the American Civil War.
Within the first week hundreds, then thousands of volunteers for military duty appeared at the docks. Because of shipping security for men, military provisions for distant military operations up and down the lakes his chances for booking passage up the lake had stalled. Men from all walks of life some that Cobmoosa recognized were the newest volunteer enlistees for military training in the Union Army and Navy.
Cobmoosa watched and listened intently as they talked about how the war would go or not. Cobmoosa was informed that because of the onslaught of the Civil War supplies he might have to spend the entire year in Grand Haven. The old Indian began to feel his true age and exercised to keep his aged muscle in check so when time arrived he would appear on foot and reclaim his legendary title as the "Last Ottawa Chief of the Grand River Valley. Alas, the amount of military provisions and men going south necessitated that he remain in Grand Haven. During the spring, summer and fall Cobmoosa who although was known as a man of "respect and courage" found it would take him that amount of time before he'd step onto a vessel. This was the man who wouldn't even sit in a canoe or wade across a fast moving stream more than knee deep let alone take a steamer.
Finally in the Spring of 1862, the buzz on Lake Michigan had tempered and the government wishing to get Cobmoosa (aged 94) on the reservation paid for his passage to Pentwater and he arrived four years after the flotilla left the Grand River Basin in 1858. Upon landing in Pentwater those who remembered him waited patiently to great the old Chief and he undertook the last leg of his journey to the Indian Reservation in Elbridge Township (Oceana County) just east/southeast of Hart, Michigan. He was nearly the last of the oldest living chiefs of his generation.
The government was so moved by his stamina and stature they quickly built him a new log house since the old fashioned wigwams of his life didn't last long. Wigwams were too cold and drafty for an old Indian of advanced age. Washington respected Cobmoosa and felt he deserved a warm log house as opposed to a cold wigwam built of bark and cattail thatched roof. Washington remembered him as the Grand River valley "peacekeeper." (continued)
Strange as it might seem word of his arrival that year would be short lived at the reservation. Indians on the reservation heard reports about his arrival at Grand Haven. Those who knew Cobmoosa feared he might try walking to the Reservation, but some, too, knew his fear of water and hoped he would regain his courage and step onto a steamer and forget the perilous walk. His people were waiting patiently for him to arrive in the Spring of 1861 and once the new shipping season commenced he hoped to board an upward bound Lake Michigan steamer. From where he would originate was unknown. What they did know was that he would arrive by foot on his own accord.
Someone in Grand Haven gave the aged Chief Cobmoosa shelter at the docks in Grand Haven during the winter of 1861-62. It was during that time he began to hear rumors that Washington was preparing for war shortly. The docks were abuzz with talk about a Civil War - the northern states against the southern states. Cobmoosa for the first time in his Indian life was really alone and was looking forward to greeting old friends at the reservation when he was told that on April 12, 1861 the attack on Fort Sumter in Charleston, South Carolina started the American Civil War.
Within the first week hundreds, then thousands of volunteers for military duty appeared at the docks. Because of shipping security for men, military provisions for distant military operations up and down the lakes his chances for booking passage up the lake had stalled. Men from all walks of life some that Cobmoosa recognized were the newest volunteer enlistees for military training in the Union Army and Navy.
Cobmoosa watched and listened intently as they talked about how the war would go or not. Cobmoosa was informed that because of the onslaught of the Civil War supplies he might have to spend the entire year in Grand Haven. The old Indian began to feel his true age and exercised to keep his aged muscle in check so when time arrived he would appear on foot and reclaim his legendary title as the "Last Ottawa Chief of the Grand River Valley. Alas, the amount of military provisions and men going south necessitated that he remain in Grand Haven. During the spring, summer and fall Cobmoosa who although was known as a man of "respect and courage" found it would take him that amount of time before he'd step onto a vessel. This was the man who wouldn't even sit in a canoe or wade across a fast moving stream more than knee deep let alone take a steamer.
Finally in the Spring of 1862, the buzz on Lake Michigan had tempered and the government wishing to get Cobmoosa (aged 94) on the reservation paid for his passage to Pentwater and he arrived four years after the flotilla left the Grand River Basin in 1858. Upon landing in Pentwater those who remembered him waited patiently to great the old Chief and he undertook the last leg of his journey to the Indian Reservation in Elbridge Township (Oceana County) just east/southeast of Hart, Michigan. He was nearly the last of the oldest living chiefs of his generation.
The government was so moved by his stamina and stature they quickly built him a new log house since the old fashioned wigwams of his life didn't last long. Wigwams were too cold and drafty for an old Indian of advanced age. Washington respected Cobmoosa and felt he deserved a warm log house as opposed to a cold wigwam built of bark and cattail thatched roof. Washington remembered him as the Grand River valley "peacekeeper." (continued)
Monday, September 28, 2015
Legends of Chief Cobmoosa & Pres. A.J. -27
Cobmoosa never wore the attire of white men as an Indian. Whenever he met someone and in talking he said " he would stay Indian and not be anything but Indian. He had fought against offered clothing from friends and relatives for 92 years, but he didn't know that is own destiny would be reshaped soon after he was seen arriving in Grand Rapids. People on the streets couldn't believe the old shuffling Indian Chief was still alive and walking on Division Street - walking in the biting cold and sleet in such ragged clothing befitting a hermit or homeless person.
"Time and death had neglected" Cobmoosa. The sight of Grand Rapids left him sad. Gone were the sights and silence of the "rapids" village. Wooden buildings replaced the natural environment. The hustle and bustle of a booming lumber town was too much for him to accept. Nothing of his youth remained.
Shuffling through town, the cold winds, rain and sleet beat against his face. He hurried along hoping he wouldn't be recognized. He feared being arrested by government lawmen, but they greeted the old Indian Chief with respect. They never harassed or intimidated him. December was not the time of year to cross the Grand River in the shallows, but instead did walk across a bridge. Just before he started westward, the old hunched over man greeted an old friend with a firm handshake. Cobmoosa turned his face away from the cold sleet and the man took pity on his friend that "death had neglected."
Suddenly his friend unbuttoned his winter coat and placed it around and over Cobmoosa's shoulder and helped him slip his arms into the sleeves. He for the first time in his long life didn't refuse the white man's clothing. He accepted the coat for he needed warmth to conclude his journey to Grand Haven. Without the white man's clothing old Cobmoosa would freeze to death somewhere along the trail. Just because he accepted the coat doesn't mean he isn't Indian, but he was wise enough to accept the coat knowing without it he would surely die along the trail.
Imagine visiting (time traveling 150 year future) your doctor for your dwindling health at 92 years old says you must start walking and exercising more, because frankly you are obese and gravity has settled your girth. In a nutshell do you have the stamina and ability to walk from the Ionia area via Grand Rapids to Grand Haven, then northward to Pentwater. That's an overland trek of more than 130 miles. Would you ever attempt this at 70 years of age. You must walk like Cobmoosa in old clothes - not Sunday or daily clothing of the 21st century. You must look like the homeless street people you see living in paperboard boxes beneath bridge overhangs. Could you survive?
Cobmoosa was a man of courage, but he still feared he might get arrested for not leaving his homeland soon enough. After all when he encountered his friend he still had a 35 mile walk to Grand Haven. What an odd scene to see a lone bent over gray-haired Indian moving 'turtle' slow in early December.
He was spotted two weeks later near Christmas stumbling in wagon ruts near the Crockery Creek Crossing southwest of Ravenna. Many settlers in wagons tried to give him a lift, but he refused and went on his way. Eyewitness accounts say as they approached he disappeared into the brush when remembering an old familiar trail. He arrived in Grand Haven in early winter. Eyewitness sightings place him in Grand Haven by the end of 1860. What an arduous task when 92 years old. Only half of his journey was completed. (continued)
"Time and death had neglected" Cobmoosa. The sight of Grand Rapids left him sad. Gone were the sights and silence of the "rapids" village. Wooden buildings replaced the natural environment. The hustle and bustle of a booming lumber town was too much for him to accept. Nothing of his youth remained.
Shuffling through town, the cold winds, rain and sleet beat against his face. He hurried along hoping he wouldn't be recognized. He feared being arrested by government lawmen, but they greeted the old Indian Chief with respect. They never harassed or intimidated him. December was not the time of year to cross the Grand River in the shallows, but instead did walk across a bridge. Just before he started westward, the old hunched over man greeted an old friend with a firm handshake. Cobmoosa turned his face away from the cold sleet and the man took pity on his friend that "death had neglected."
Suddenly his friend unbuttoned his winter coat and placed it around and over Cobmoosa's shoulder and helped him slip his arms into the sleeves. He for the first time in his long life didn't refuse the white man's clothing. He accepted the coat for he needed warmth to conclude his journey to Grand Haven. Without the white man's clothing old Cobmoosa would freeze to death somewhere along the trail. Just because he accepted the coat doesn't mean he isn't Indian, but he was wise enough to accept the coat knowing without it he would surely die along the trail.
Imagine visiting (time traveling 150 year future) your doctor for your dwindling health at 92 years old says you must start walking and exercising more, because frankly you are obese and gravity has settled your girth. In a nutshell do you have the stamina and ability to walk from the Ionia area via Grand Rapids to Grand Haven, then northward to Pentwater. That's an overland trek of more than 130 miles. Would you ever attempt this at 70 years of age. You must walk like Cobmoosa in old clothes - not Sunday or daily clothing of the 21st century. You must look like the homeless street people you see living in paperboard boxes beneath bridge overhangs. Could you survive?
Cobmoosa was a man of courage, but he still feared he might get arrested for not leaving his homeland soon enough. After all when he encountered his friend he still had a 35 mile walk to Grand Haven. What an odd scene to see a lone bent over gray-haired Indian moving 'turtle' slow in early December.
He was spotted two weeks later near Christmas stumbling in wagon ruts near the Crockery Creek Crossing southwest of Ravenna. Many settlers in wagons tried to give him a lift, but he refused and went on his way. Eyewitness accounts say as they approached he disappeared into the brush when remembering an old familiar trail. He arrived in Grand Haven in early winter. Eyewitness sightings place him in Grand Haven by the end of 1860. What an arduous task when 92 years old. Only half of his journey was completed. (continued)
Saturday, September 26, 2015
Legends of Chief Cobmoosa & Pres. A.J. - 26
Every three years, the Ottawa Indians would gather together to celebrate the "Feast of The Dead," which happened on Nov. 2nd. Cobmoosa took it upon himself being the last Ottawa Indian Chief to honor the dearly departed. The day long ceremony was arduous for him, but he mostly just sang and provided food for himself. At age 92 time had passed him by for athletic events, dancing and offering a feast, but at least he remembered his forefathers, family and friends and honored their spirits one last time.
Usually at the conclusion of the feast of the dead, the bones of those who died three years past were buried in a common grave, which 'united the spirits of the dead' with 'joining the friendships of the living.' Now you understand why it is that with all the housing developments being built around you excavators don't unearth departed Indians.
The Yanonomi Indians of Brazil (1995) still cremate their dead to this day. These cremation Indians are considered to be the richest in the world and yet at the turn of this century they do not know the value of money and modern man is prohibited from entering their tribal land. They are protected by the Brazilian government and military forces. They cremate the dead and gather the ashes. They mix the ashes with flour and bake and break bread at a similar 'spirit of the dead'. The spirit of the dead then lives within the living as they journey through life. Hard to fathom the 'Spirit of The Dead' honors the dead in the 21st century. Before the flotilla of Indians left the Grand and Flat River country Cobmoosa's goal was to celebrate the Feast of The Dead in their absence. This he accomplished.
Put yourself in Cobmoosa's life as a ghost shadow and walk beside him in old moccasins and ratty Indian attire in 92-year old feet. The cold air challenged his nose and he knew Winter was not far off. His bones ached and he trudged to graves of relatives and friends. Sitting besides their graves he celebrates them in song chanting old familiar tunes of long ago for the last time in 1860. Being 92 year old he didn't do much dancing because of a body that death had neglected. He was about to undertake the pilgrimage of his life to the Pentwater Reservation just east of Hart, Michigan in Oceana County (Elbridge Township). Still for his ancient age he was a skillful athlete and hunter and carried food and provisions.
The woodland forests were barren of leaves, the wind howled through the stark gray woods, the ground strewn with many colorful leaves that rustled in frosty morning breezes. Each morning the air was colder, the skies darker and Cobmoosa knew it was time to leave. His bones felt the cold winds of change as dense fog hovered over the Grand River, the sun barely seen before noon. He was leaving the land of his forefathers. Unknown was his route to Grand Rapids or where he crossed the Grand River. He could have crossed at Ada or Plainfield (bridges).
Five years earlier (1855) when he signed the treaty of 1855 he was 87 years old and many saw him yet as a majestic in appearance meaning he was a man with a distinctive and identifying posture who walked and talked Indian. He was offered settler attire many times but refused saying "he would stay Indian and not be anything but Indian. He was a man of "mark or mein" (majestic).
At 92 (1860) his wrinkled facial expressions showed he was still comfortable in his old Indian skin for now he was hunchbacked and walked forward with deliberate purpose so he would stumble and fall. The old Indian still could travel great distances more so than settlers. He was blessed with knowledge and still took charge of his own life. He spoke his mind to any man he met and would listen to his ramblings and it wouldn't fail him once the Civil War began.
Cobmoosa couldn't believe his eyes wandering into Grand Rapids. Gone were the sights and silence of his youth. He couldn't find his birthplace - it was all buildings at the "rapids village" beside the Grand River. His birthplace in 1768 didn't exist at the rapids. His world ceased to exist, but at least he had his mind's eye memory of those he cherished. His old eyes had seen the drastic changes of settler civilization. (continued)
Usually at the conclusion of the feast of the dead, the bones of those who died three years past were buried in a common grave, which 'united the spirits of the dead' with 'joining the friendships of the living.' Now you understand why it is that with all the housing developments being built around you excavators don't unearth departed Indians.
The Yanonomi Indians of Brazil (1995) still cremate their dead to this day. These cremation Indians are considered to be the richest in the world and yet at the turn of this century they do not know the value of money and modern man is prohibited from entering their tribal land. They are protected by the Brazilian government and military forces. They cremate the dead and gather the ashes. They mix the ashes with flour and bake and break bread at a similar 'spirit of the dead'. The spirit of the dead then lives within the living as they journey through life. Hard to fathom the 'Spirit of The Dead' honors the dead in the 21st century. Before the flotilla of Indians left the Grand and Flat River country Cobmoosa's goal was to celebrate the Feast of The Dead in their absence. This he accomplished.
Put yourself in Cobmoosa's life as a ghost shadow and walk beside him in old moccasins and ratty Indian attire in 92-year old feet. The cold air challenged his nose and he knew Winter was not far off. His bones ached and he trudged to graves of relatives and friends. Sitting besides their graves he celebrates them in song chanting old familiar tunes of long ago for the last time in 1860. Being 92 year old he didn't do much dancing because of a body that death had neglected. He was about to undertake the pilgrimage of his life to the Pentwater Reservation just east of Hart, Michigan in Oceana County (Elbridge Township). Still for his ancient age he was a skillful athlete and hunter and carried food and provisions.
The woodland forests were barren of leaves, the wind howled through the stark gray woods, the ground strewn with many colorful leaves that rustled in frosty morning breezes. Each morning the air was colder, the skies darker and Cobmoosa knew it was time to leave. His bones felt the cold winds of change as dense fog hovered over the Grand River, the sun barely seen before noon. He was leaving the land of his forefathers. Unknown was his route to Grand Rapids or where he crossed the Grand River. He could have crossed at Ada or Plainfield (bridges).
Five years earlier (1855) when he signed the treaty of 1855 he was 87 years old and many saw him yet as a majestic in appearance meaning he was a man with a distinctive and identifying posture who walked and talked Indian. He was offered settler attire many times but refused saying "he would stay Indian and not be anything but Indian. He was a man of "mark or mein" (majestic).
At 92 (1860) his wrinkled facial expressions showed he was still comfortable in his old Indian skin for now he was hunchbacked and walked forward with deliberate purpose so he would stumble and fall. The old Indian still could travel great distances more so than settlers. He was blessed with knowledge and still took charge of his own life. He spoke his mind to any man he met and would listen to his ramblings and it wouldn't fail him once the Civil War began.
Cobmoosa couldn't believe his eyes wandering into Grand Rapids. Gone were the sights and silence of his youth. He couldn't find his birthplace - it was all buildings at the "rapids village" beside the Grand River. His birthplace in 1768 didn't exist at the rapids. His world ceased to exist, but at least he had his mind's eye memory of those he cherished. His old eyes had seen the drastic changes of settler civilization. (continued)
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
Legends of Chief Cobmoosa & Pres. A.J. -25
In 1858 it was quite the scene to witness the departure of 800 Indians in 300 canoes packed with possessions down the Grand River to just about Grand Rapids. They landed just south of Leonard and a little beyond the confluence of Coldbrook Creek and prepared to disembark and portage everything they owned about a half-mile around the Six Street Dam. Why so far?
Grand Rapids had displaced many remnants of Noondays village where Cobmoosa was born in 1768. In the encampment in 1822 he stood at the "rapids" village and welcomed both Catholic and Baptist missionaries. No longer could canoes pass over and down the spillway - they'd submerge in the violent water. Indians had to portage around the new lock construction that were never completed for upriver steamboat traffic (from dam to Michigan Street) once the railroad arrived. The quarry hole was where my cousin Mitch Idema drowned in the 1980's. It was that deep stretch from the dam along the east wall where today the U.S. Post Office resides. I honor his memory, too.
Noonday's village was wall to wall buildings that now shield Monroe from the noise of the rapids. In his day, it was not quiet. From Leonard to Fulton the original riverbed dropped 21 feet making it a violent and turbulent river. Not the best spot to arrive on shore in the middle of a raging river. Cobmoosa's phobia of water may have originated from the rapids - did he almost drown here or did he witness the drowning of family or friends.
What the Indians found was no wilderness and now wooden buildings and commerce. Directly across the river the Iron Horse spewing lots of dark smoke and sparks chugged up the tracks for further construction of the Grand Rapids and Indiana Rail Road from Ft. Wayne, Indiana northward towards Cadillac (White Pine Trail). The RR was bringing up steel railroad tracks and ties for construction just north of Comstock Park. Nothing looked the same to the Indians. What they remembered was "gone-gone-gone."
We would be no different if we were absent from our childhood home after 40 years? We've all seen the degradation, economic advancements and environmental changes to the landscapes of our youth after 15-20 years.
Our cultures and traditions leave and return under good and bad moments in life. It might be disheartening to witness the changes in childhood or adult life. All the Indian villages north of the Grand River were vacant. This was the last time any settlers would be threatened by the presence of bad Indians, but such would not be in the case of Chief John Wabasis at his Wabasis Lake encampment. The renegades wouldn't permit him to leave.
Cobmoosa was finally left alone for the last time when 87-90 years old. What could be possibly have left undone from 1858-late 1860? It's not what he couldn't do, but rather what he did do for his people left behind buried in cemeteries and Indian graves along the Grand River. He simply thought it was his responsibility to honor his ancestors and friends in graves and making sure that when new settlers arrived that they didn't desecrate their graves along the Grand and Flat Rivers.
The mass migration of Indian ceased in late summer. The region was void of Indians - not all, the renegades near Greenville stayed behind to harass Wabasis and his family, but they never intentionally tried to harm Wabasis family. Gone were the glowing orange skies on dark nights. No more beating drums - only replaced with sounds of crickets, coyotes and wolves howling in distant forests.
October's colorful leaves were beginning to fall. Morning frost left a nip in the air until a couple hours after glorious sunrises. Cobmoosa rose from his sleep to find another a morning sky azure blue with wisps of feathery white clouds barely moving. A warm autumn breeze caressed his face as he wandered along the riverbank hedging towards the ancient burial grounds.
Showers of falling leaves to the forest floor made for difficult walking for a 90 year old man. The fragrances of fall tickled his nose, but the sun felt good on his face and the warmth in afternoon sun felt good on his aching body. He could hear the Manistee winds sighing thru pine needles, the whispers of winter announcing that snow would soon appear.
Being old with age he probably sat down atop high hill to rest overlooking the river and smelled the fragrances of the river and ate an apple while resting. Water wherever found has a particular fragrance. The stronger breezes sent blizzards of red, orange and yellow leaves to the ground. The sounds of swirling leaves clicked together as the hardened Aspen leaves struck each other with the sounds similar to raindrops striking water. He had lived a long life a life that death had neglected. His time along the Grand River valley was short, but he promised President Pierce he would leave before 1860 closed. He would after he visited the graves of his ancestors and friends and celebrated for the last time the "Feast of The Dead.
Feast of The Dead was a time of remembrance for all those Indians who passed away. Some reached for the happy hunting ground while those who were Christians at time of death were dead in Christ. Cobmoosa was at the graves of his ancestors. Many died during several small pox epidemics, but he would remain vigilant to protect the burial sites. That was his duty to the "People of Three Fires - Ottawa, Pottawatomie and Ojibway (Chippewa). (continued)
Grand Rapids had displaced many remnants of Noondays village where Cobmoosa was born in 1768. In the encampment in 1822 he stood at the "rapids" village and welcomed both Catholic and Baptist missionaries. No longer could canoes pass over and down the spillway - they'd submerge in the violent water. Indians had to portage around the new lock construction that were never completed for upriver steamboat traffic (from dam to Michigan Street) once the railroad arrived. The quarry hole was where my cousin Mitch Idema drowned in the 1980's. It was that deep stretch from the dam along the east wall where today the U.S. Post Office resides. I honor his memory, too.
Noonday's village was wall to wall buildings that now shield Monroe from the noise of the rapids. In his day, it was not quiet. From Leonard to Fulton the original riverbed dropped 21 feet making it a violent and turbulent river. Not the best spot to arrive on shore in the middle of a raging river. Cobmoosa's phobia of water may have originated from the rapids - did he almost drown here or did he witness the drowning of family or friends.
What the Indians found was no wilderness and now wooden buildings and commerce. Directly across the river the Iron Horse spewing lots of dark smoke and sparks chugged up the tracks for further construction of the Grand Rapids and Indiana Rail Road from Ft. Wayne, Indiana northward towards Cadillac (White Pine Trail). The RR was bringing up steel railroad tracks and ties for construction just north of Comstock Park. Nothing looked the same to the Indians. What they remembered was "gone-gone-gone."
We would be no different if we were absent from our childhood home after 40 years? We've all seen the degradation, economic advancements and environmental changes to the landscapes of our youth after 15-20 years.
Our cultures and traditions leave and return under good and bad moments in life. It might be disheartening to witness the changes in childhood or adult life. All the Indian villages north of the Grand River were vacant. This was the last time any settlers would be threatened by the presence of bad Indians, but such would not be in the case of Chief John Wabasis at his Wabasis Lake encampment. The renegades wouldn't permit him to leave.
Cobmoosa was finally left alone for the last time when 87-90 years old. What could be possibly have left undone from 1858-late 1860? It's not what he couldn't do, but rather what he did do for his people left behind buried in cemeteries and Indian graves along the Grand River. He simply thought it was his responsibility to honor his ancestors and friends in graves and making sure that when new settlers arrived that they didn't desecrate their graves along the Grand and Flat Rivers.
The mass migration of Indian ceased in late summer. The region was void of Indians - not all, the renegades near Greenville stayed behind to harass Wabasis and his family, but they never intentionally tried to harm Wabasis family. Gone were the glowing orange skies on dark nights. No more beating drums - only replaced with sounds of crickets, coyotes and wolves howling in distant forests.
October's colorful leaves were beginning to fall. Morning frost left a nip in the air until a couple hours after glorious sunrises. Cobmoosa rose from his sleep to find another a morning sky azure blue with wisps of feathery white clouds barely moving. A warm autumn breeze caressed his face as he wandered along the riverbank hedging towards the ancient burial grounds.
Showers of falling leaves to the forest floor made for difficult walking for a 90 year old man. The fragrances of fall tickled his nose, but the sun felt good on his face and the warmth in afternoon sun felt good on his aching body. He could hear the Manistee winds sighing thru pine needles, the whispers of winter announcing that snow would soon appear.
Being old with age he probably sat down atop high hill to rest overlooking the river and smelled the fragrances of the river and ate an apple while resting. Water wherever found has a particular fragrance. The stronger breezes sent blizzards of red, orange and yellow leaves to the ground. The sounds of swirling leaves clicked together as the hardened Aspen leaves struck each other with the sounds similar to raindrops striking water. He had lived a long life a life that death had neglected. His time along the Grand River valley was short, but he promised President Pierce he would leave before 1860 closed. He would after he visited the graves of his ancestors and friends and celebrated for the last time the "Feast of The Dead.
Feast of The Dead was a time of remembrance for all those Indians who passed away. Some reached for the happy hunting ground while those who were Christians at time of death were dead in Christ. Cobmoosa was at the graves of his ancestors. Many died during several small pox epidemics, but he would remain vigilant to protect the burial sites. That was his duty to the "People of Three Fires - Ottawa, Pottawatomie and Ojibway (Chippewa). (continued)
Monday, September 21, 2015
Legends of Chief Cobmoosa & Pres. A.J. - 24
Cobmoosa despite being slowed by age took it upon himself to make sure no small skirmishes broke out between Indians or arriving settlers. He welcomed settlers, farmers, timber spectators, missionaries and priests with firm handshakes, the same as Chief John Wabasis - his foster son. Chief Wobwindigo was Wabasis' adopted son, but both Cobmoosa and Wabasis were half-breed Indians and eventually son-in-laws of Wobwindigo. Wabasis married a daughter named Cononama and Cobmoosa married three daughters simultaneously, that is, before becoming a Christian.
Jean Boshaw of Chief Hazy Cloud village was Cobmoosa's go-between half-breed, too. He was fast to get to trouble spots.
From 1836-1855 many Indians remained and took up farming until Washington decided it was time to settle the Treaty of 1836 for Indian displacement to reservations. Accordingly all Indians north of the Grand River were given five years to leave, but Cobmoosa wanted to make sure they left around 1858.
Cobmoosa was 87 years old when he signed his name on the treaty, and yes, indeed he was known as the "Last Ottawa Chief of the Grand and Flat River bands." No longer could the Indians remain on their birthplace lands or wander as free spirit Ottawas or mixed breeds. The Indians didn't know what to expect as they traveled to Pentwater, Traverse or Mt. Pleasant reservations.
Cobmoosa along with other Indians would meet several times at Indian council meeting to discuss departure of the main body and they all agreed it was time to make preparations for departure in the summer of 1858. Several hundred Indians gathered in Ionia and set off for Detroit to pick up their last annuity payments. When the men trickled back to Ionia they made hundreds of canoes for passage to Grand Haven then by steamers to Pentwater.
One day the residents in the Ionia area were getting concerned with the large influx of Indians and were intimidated by the numbers swelling into town. Fearing an Indian uprising was beginning several residents in town began ringing the church bells that summoned townsmen back from the outside farms. Ringing church bells meant imminent danger and their families might be in jeopardy and rushed back to town to render aid, but such was not needed.
When they returned they saw hundreds of Indians trickling into town and found the Indian encampment where the Ionia Free Fair is today getting larger as each day passed. The bonfires at night cast an orange glow over the Grand River Valley.
Then one morning Cobmoosa ordered 300 canoes be put in the water and loaded with all the possessions of 800 Indians for the journey to Grand Haven. Wabasis and his family were not among them - he wouldn't risk loosing his life by leaving his wife. He feared the renegades were watching so they could collect on his death warrant. His people left room for Cobmoosa, but he refused to leave with them. He told his friends and family members he would be along shortly, but he sort of fibbed and was maybe hoping to die so he could be buried in the river valley before he had to walk to the reservation. Little did they know he wouldn't arrive until 1862.
Cobmoosa assured them he made other arrangements and needed time to stay and finish up he still needed to be taken care of. He told them not to worry. He did indeed leave and he kept his promise to President James Buchanan and did abide by treaty requirements for resettlement at Pentwater. (continued).
Jean Boshaw of Chief Hazy Cloud village was Cobmoosa's go-between half-breed, too. He was fast to get to trouble spots.
From 1836-1855 many Indians remained and took up farming until Washington decided it was time to settle the Treaty of 1836 for Indian displacement to reservations. Accordingly all Indians north of the Grand River were given five years to leave, but Cobmoosa wanted to make sure they left around 1858.
Cobmoosa was 87 years old when he signed his name on the treaty, and yes, indeed he was known as the "Last Ottawa Chief of the Grand and Flat River bands." No longer could the Indians remain on their birthplace lands or wander as free spirit Ottawas or mixed breeds. The Indians didn't know what to expect as they traveled to Pentwater, Traverse or Mt. Pleasant reservations.
Cobmoosa along with other Indians would meet several times at Indian council meeting to discuss departure of the main body and they all agreed it was time to make preparations for departure in the summer of 1858. Several hundred Indians gathered in Ionia and set off for Detroit to pick up their last annuity payments. When the men trickled back to Ionia they made hundreds of canoes for passage to Grand Haven then by steamers to Pentwater.
One day the residents in the Ionia area were getting concerned with the large influx of Indians and were intimidated by the numbers swelling into town. Fearing an Indian uprising was beginning several residents in town began ringing the church bells that summoned townsmen back from the outside farms. Ringing church bells meant imminent danger and their families might be in jeopardy and rushed back to town to render aid, but such was not needed.
When they returned they saw hundreds of Indians trickling into town and found the Indian encampment where the Ionia Free Fair is today getting larger as each day passed. The bonfires at night cast an orange glow over the Grand River Valley.
Then one morning Cobmoosa ordered 300 canoes be put in the water and loaded with all the possessions of 800 Indians for the journey to Grand Haven. Wabasis and his family were not among them - he wouldn't risk loosing his life by leaving his wife. He feared the renegades were watching so they could collect on his death warrant. His people left room for Cobmoosa, but he refused to leave with them. He told his friends and family members he would be along shortly, but he sort of fibbed and was maybe hoping to die so he could be buried in the river valley before he had to walk to the reservation. Little did they know he wouldn't arrive until 1862.
Cobmoosa assured them he made other arrangements and needed time to stay and finish up he still needed to be taken care of. He told them not to worry. He did indeed leave and he kept his promise to President James Buchanan and did abide by treaty requirements for resettlement at Pentwater. (continued).
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Legends of Chief Cobmoosa & Pres. A.J. - 23
People in general are always talking about how bad the weather was in their own lifetime. Cobmoosa lived with extremes in weather for nearly 98 years. Noonday died at age 100. Each generation has been battered by the weather. The weather of today is the same weather of yesteryear.
Many think it is worse, but the reality is instead of living father apart we live like sardines packed into a tiny can (concrete and asphalt jungles). The more condensed communities become the more damage tornadoes, hurricanes and typhoons, wind and thunderstorms, the more premature deaths. The weather is no more violent today than the past. Mother Nature calls the shots.
Whatever happened is constant only to the people who were living at that time. As a historian I hear many people complain about how bad the 21st century weather is across America; the rainstorms, snowstorms, floods, firestorms, tornadoes, etc., but the weather today carries the same extremes in cold, heat and precipitation. There was a time shortly after the Treaty of 1836 when Indians who were traveling felt the Great Spirit was furious at them for selling tribal land to the Federal government.
The wacko fringe scientists today are alarmists and try to scare us about the extremes of "Global Warming or Climate Change" because of burning too much fossil fuel (hydrocarbons) creating ozone that keeps all the hot air from escaping. They continually "say how cold or how hot it is" and are always citing temperature is increasing in summer and cold in winter - but it has risen less than 1 degree. Weather extremes in recorded history are no worse today than yesterday. The earth is not sick, the weather is no worse than 200 years ago depending on where you live in the summer and vacation in the winter. The Indians considered the Grand River and Kalamazoo River valleys as tropical paradises, because within a half-a-mile of the river temperatures in winter are 10-15 degrees higher than inland. Mackinaw Island Indians spent winters in the Grand River valley, because in the Straits region, the temperatures were sub-zero in the winter.
Sure across the country in 2015 four hundred plus tornadoes have raked across the mid-west and Great Plains country, but that is normal each year. Deluges of rain have flooded many towns, even deserts, and yes, there is an extreme drought in California and hundreds of forest fires. Sorry water shortages occur when green golf courses are built in the desert - what a waste of Colorado river water.
In the polar region, yes, ice is melting in the summer, but in the Arctic and Antarctica sorry to report the 90-95 degrees F. for one week in the Arctic and Antarctica is normal. Ice does melt at alarming rates, but what they don't tell you is that during previous winters cold below normal temperatures created twice the amount as lost ice. When are people going to understand history - the earth is evolving the same as man. Nothing stays the same - it is always changing for the good or bad. Yet they are quick to point out that since the ice is melting the west coast is going to be under water miles inland and for all the melting that has occurred already, the sea has risen less than one inch in 200 years, but now predict a rise of four to six feet before the 22nd century. Must be scientists don't understand condensation.
As I see it surface heat off of black asphalt highways - the more you create the more heat rises - well gosh it brings about more deluges and floods. Warm air plus cold air make water. I don't believe in global warming, but do agree we don't need more black asphalt roadways to spice up the atmosphere. Black absorbs heat - concrete doesn't. It isn't the people or the burning of fossil fuel that is the problem - the problem is climate change and man's need for money.
You might not believe it but just because we've had many tornadoes over the mid-west this year it's a drop in the bucket for what happened in weather just after the Ottawa Indians signed the Treaty of 1836. In the summer of 1836 more than 200 tornadoes ripped thru West Michigan in a months time. Everywhere the Indians walked they saw the destruction of the forests - mangled and twisted trees, fields and forests obliterated as if a giant grinder passed by. Some Indians were terrified by the howling winds at night.
In 1847-49, the Grand River was but a trickle. Summer of 1847 more than 100 degrees for more than 60 days. The Grand River valley was scorched and tinder dry. No 4th of July celebrations - so hot the leaves on trees fell and trees barren in July. Indian's that had not yet removed to reservations couldn't recall anytime in their own history when it had been so hot.
Leaves were on the trees in February 1848 and off before July at a time when America's railroad engines wherever traveling burned 47,000 cords of wood daily. Heat rising. During the mid 1860's tornadoes were on the increase, too. From winter 1897 to 1901 it was so cold the temperature never got above -10 degrees F. for 40 days. Cold killed most of the fruit trees in Michigan - hardest hit was the Traverse region. The weather has always been as bad as those seeing it happen.
When one or two tornadoes touch down in Michigan in one year we think devastation was bad, but it was nothing compared to the devastating years (1832-1901) in Michigan weather history. I don't have faith in weather scientists not when in 1986, the water levels were the highest in history and those same scientists said it'd take more than 100 years to fall 4 feet - it fell 4 feet in four years. It rose and fell again in the 1990's then rose up again slowly and now is higher in 2015 than the last record. Lake Michigan was nearly 80% frozen in the winter of 2014 & 2015 so too in the late 1890's. And for the past winter year it was El Nina and El Nino summer weather due to the warm than normal water temperatures near the equator.
Mother Nature has dominion and there is nothing man can do, but complain about the weather in his part of the world. Tell me what in life never changes? (continued)
Many think it is worse, but the reality is instead of living father apart we live like sardines packed into a tiny can (concrete and asphalt jungles). The more condensed communities become the more damage tornadoes, hurricanes and typhoons, wind and thunderstorms, the more premature deaths. The weather is no more violent today than the past. Mother Nature calls the shots.
Whatever happened is constant only to the people who were living at that time. As a historian I hear many people complain about how bad the 21st century weather is across America; the rainstorms, snowstorms, floods, firestorms, tornadoes, etc., but the weather today carries the same extremes in cold, heat and precipitation. There was a time shortly after the Treaty of 1836 when Indians who were traveling felt the Great Spirit was furious at them for selling tribal land to the Federal government.
The wacko fringe scientists today are alarmists and try to scare us about the extremes of "Global Warming or Climate Change" because of burning too much fossil fuel (hydrocarbons) creating ozone that keeps all the hot air from escaping. They continually "say how cold or how hot it is" and are always citing temperature is increasing in summer and cold in winter - but it has risen less than 1 degree. Weather extremes in recorded history are no worse today than yesterday. The earth is not sick, the weather is no worse than 200 years ago depending on where you live in the summer and vacation in the winter. The Indians considered the Grand River and Kalamazoo River valleys as tropical paradises, because within a half-a-mile of the river temperatures in winter are 10-15 degrees higher than inland. Mackinaw Island Indians spent winters in the Grand River valley, because in the Straits region, the temperatures were sub-zero in the winter.
Sure across the country in 2015 four hundred plus tornadoes have raked across the mid-west and Great Plains country, but that is normal each year. Deluges of rain have flooded many towns, even deserts, and yes, there is an extreme drought in California and hundreds of forest fires. Sorry water shortages occur when green golf courses are built in the desert - what a waste of Colorado river water.
In the polar region, yes, ice is melting in the summer, but in the Arctic and Antarctica sorry to report the 90-95 degrees F. for one week in the Arctic and Antarctica is normal. Ice does melt at alarming rates, but what they don't tell you is that during previous winters cold below normal temperatures created twice the amount as lost ice. When are people going to understand history - the earth is evolving the same as man. Nothing stays the same - it is always changing for the good or bad. Yet they are quick to point out that since the ice is melting the west coast is going to be under water miles inland and for all the melting that has occurred already, the sea has risen less than one inch in 200 years, but now predict a rise of four to six feet before the 22nd century. Must be scientists don't understand condensation.
As I see it surface heat off of black asphalt highways - the more you create the more heat rises - well gosh it brings about more deluges and floods. Warm air plus cold air make water. I don't believe in global warming, but do agree we don't need more black asphalt roadways to spice up the atmosphere. Black absorbs heat - concrete doesn't. It isn't the people or the burning of fossil fuel that is the problem - the problem is climate change and man's need for money.
You might not believe it but just because we've had many tornadoes over the mid-west this year it's a drop in the bucket for what happened in weather just after the Ottawa Indians signed the Treaty of 1836. In the summer of 1836 more than 200 tornadoes ripped thru West Michigan in a months time. Everywhere the Indians walked they saw the destruction of the forests - mangled and twisted trees, fields and forests obliterated as if a giant grinder passed by. Some Indians were terrified by the howling winds at night.
In 1847-49, the Grand River was but a trickle. Summer of 1847 more than 100 degrees for more than 60 days. The Grand River valley was scorched and tinder dry. No 4th of July celebrations - so hot the leaves on trees fell and trees barren in July. Indian's that had not yet removed to reservations couldn't recall anytime in their own history when it had been so hot.
Leaves were on the trees in February 1848 and off before July at a time when America's railroad engines wherever traveling burned 47,000 cords of wood daily. Heat rising. During the mid 1860's tornadoes were on the increase, too. From winter 1897 to 1901 it was so cold the temperature never got above -10 degrees F. for 40 days. Cold killed most of the fruit trees in Michigan - hardest hit was the Traverse region. The weather has always been as bad as those seeing it happen.
When one or two tornadoes touch down in Michigan in one year we think devastation was bad, but it was nothing compared to the devastating years (1832-1901) in Michigan weather history. I don't have faith in weather scientists not when in 1986, the water levels were the highest in history and those same scientists said it'd take more than 100 years to fall 4 feet - it fell 4 feet in four years. It rose and fell again in the 1990's then rose up again slowly and now is higher in 2015 than the last record. Lake Michigan was nearly 80% frozen in the winter of 2014 & 2015 so too in the late 1890's. And for the past winter year it was El Nina and El Nino summer weather due to the warm than normal water temperatures near the equator.
Mother Nature has dominion and there is nothing man can do, but complain about the weather in his part of the world. Tell me what in life never changes? (continued)
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