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Indians Must Unite to Fight Against the Americans
Tecumseh (ca. 1768–1813)
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portrait of Tecumseh
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 In view of questions
of vast importance, have we met together in solemn council tonight. Nor
should we here debate whether we have been wronged and injured, but by
what measures we should avenge ourselves; for our merciless oppressors,
having long since planned out their proceedings, are not about to make,
but have and are still making attacks upon our race who have as yet come
to no resolution. Nor are we ignorant by what steps, and by what gradual
advances, the whites break in upon our neighbors. Imagining themselves
to be still undiscovered, they show themselves the less  audacious
because you are insensible.
The whites are already nearly a match for us all united, and too strong
for any one tribe alone to resist; so that unless we support one another
with our collective and united forces; unless every tribe unanimously
combines to give check to the ambition and avarice
of the whites, they will soon conquer us apart and disunited, and we will
be driven away from our native country and scattered as autumnal leaves
before the wind.
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But
have we not courage enough remaining to defend our country and maintain
our ancient independence? Will we calmly suffer the white intruders and
tyrants to enslave us? Shall it be said of our race that we knew not how
to extricate
ourselves from the three most dreadful calamities—folly, inactivity
and cowardice? But what need is there to speak of the past? It speaks
for itself and asks, Where today is the Pequod? Where the Narrangansetts,
the Mohawks, Pocanokets, and many other once powerful tribes of our race?
They have vanished before the avarice and oppression of the white men,
as snow before a summer sun. In the vain hope of alone defending their
ancient possessions, they have fallen in the wars with the white men.
Look abroad over their once beautiful country, and what see you now? Naught
but the ravages of the pale face destroyers meet our eyes. So it will
be with you Choctaws and Chickasaws! Soon your mighty forest trees, under
the shade of whose wide spreading branches you have played in infancy,
sported in boyhood, and now rest your wearied limbs after the fatigue
of the chase, will be cut down to fence in the land which the white intruders
dare to call their own. Soon their broad roads will pass over the grave of your fathers, and the place of their rest will be blotted out forever.
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