Whose apple tree?

(July 24, 2008, continued) Just north of Girard, north of Hog Creek, I spied this apple tree. Perfect, I thought! I couldn’t have asked for a better photo op. I stopped at the house ahead (in the background of the photo) where the woman of the family was cleaning out a SUV, to ask if it would be OK for me to take photos.

By way of explanation, I mentioned the story of the apple trees and asked if she knew about it. It turned out that she knew the story very well, and that she is a descendant of the James B. Tompkins who originally told it to the writer of the 1879 Branch County history:

James B. Tompkins came from Schoharie, Schoharie Co., N. Y., and in the fall of 1830 arrived in Tecumseh, Mich., where he remained until July, 1831, passing six months of this time in the wilderness, while following his occupation as a surveyor. At the date last mentioned he removed to Girard, and bought 80 acres upon section 15, where he now resides … The Indians were upon section 22, where they had some 12 or 15 shanties, and about 8 acres of nice corn growing. After the removal of the Indians their shanties were torn down by the early settlers, and used to make shelters for their cattle. Upon that portion of section 15 purchased by Mr. Tompkins the squaws had planted four apple-trees. A year or so had passed away after his settlement; many other white families were coming in; and the Indians had learned that at a day not far distant they were to be removed away, and forever, from the scenes of their childhood days, their village, and the beautiful little prairie they had ever considered as all their own. A fate they so much dreaded very naturally exasperated them to such a degree that they determined to destroy the apple-trees, and all other things which they thought might be of value to the whites. Mr. Tompkins was accosted by a neighbor one day, and informed that the squaws were cutting down his apple-trees. He hastened to the spot and found that three trees were already hewn into fragments, while a young squaw, with axe in hand, and urged on by an older one, had already made an attack upon the fourth and only remaining tree. He shouted to them to stop. They did stop, and then the old squaw began a noisy harangue and denunciation of the whites; how the Indians had been cheated, their lands taken away from them, and old squaw had not received a dress. In the mean time several of the bucks had gathered around. Anger and hatred were depicted by face and gesture. The squaws demanded to be paid for sparing the tree. At this juncture William McCarty came up, and as he understood the Indian dialect he acted as mediator, and peace was once more restored by Mr. Tompkins agreeing to give the squaws a certain amount of flour.

This apple tree is on the Section 15 that was owned by James Tompkins, and is near the creek. Whether the tree is a descendant of the one in the story is unknown. Most likely it isn’t. But it’s great place to have an apple tree.

The woman did not want me to take her photo this time — not in her car-cleaning clothes. Maybe another time. But she told me she had learned the story of the apple trees when she was a teenager. She wondered how I knew about it, and I explained that the old county histories are now on-line, so it’s not something that’s hidden away. (Though I had read it long before the Michigan county histories were put online.) The old family home is the next place to the north, but is no longer owned by any descendants. She said she was the only one who cared much about the family history, and wished it had been possible to keep the old home in the family.

I’ll have more another time about James Tompkins, surveyor. But I may save it until I’ve had a chance for another bike ride to the area.

In another place in the 1879 history where the story of the apple trees is told, the writer says, “Mr. Tompkins naturally understood that when he bought the land he bought all the trees there were on it, and declined to pay further.”

I’m not sure what’s so natural about that understanding, though. The Potawatomi Indians weren’t the only people who thought that residing on the land and “improving” it gave them some special rights of entitlement that trumped a mere transaction in the land market. A surveyor, of all people, should have known about preemption rights that had been enacted into law by Congress. There are some points of similarity between those and the rights the Potawatomi women felt they had to the apple trees. More about that another time.