Drouillard.us

Home

Cast Upon the Western Winds

So long to you great Miami warriors
The winds are stiff, the nights are colder
Farewell to you proud Miami tribe
Like autumn leaves on winds you’ll ride

And cast upon the western wind
You’ll be lost but it’s not your end
If only with a poet’s pen
Miami warrior you’ll rise again

Farewell to you Chief Little Turtle
The white man drove you from Ohio
But you’re still a Chief of your tribe
Ohio your home stays within you inside

And cast upon the western wind
You’ll be lost but it’s not your end
If only with a poet’s pen
Miami warrior you’ll rise again

You will always live in your children
With your children there will be no end
In the blood of generations there will always be
Chief Little Turtle and the proud Miami

And cast upon the western wind
You’ll be lost but it’s not your end
If only with a poet’s pen
Miami warrior you’ll rise again

-Drouillard

Grandfather Prayer

There was a Chief

Of the Penobscot Nation

I see him in the stars

My Grandfather

From a past generation

Watching over from afar

He speaks to me

He gives me courage

He visits me in my dreams

He tells me things

In these brief meetings

Death is not the end it seems

Chief Modockawando

Hear my voice

Come talk to me again

Grandfather guide my life

And if it’s your choice

Add your wisdom to my pen

-Drouillard

Ohio Genocide

They want our land

And they want us gone

That’s all there is to know

This is what

An Indian said,

Yes many tears ago.

A genocide

That’s still denied;

Now Ohio is theirs no more

The Ottawa, Seneca,

Shawnee and Pawnee

Are lost from our history’s lore

But their names are found

On cities and towns

As if we have no shame

Their images lampooned

And faces cartooned;

On cigar boxes and logos for games

So cry for Logan and Tecumseh,

Little Turtle, Blue Jacket,

And other Chiefs

They fought valiantly

Protecting their country

They died in defense of their beliefs.

-Drouillard

Time Walker

An Indian standing by the side of the road

He looks so out of place

Dressed in leather with his arrow and bow

And a strange look on his face

I see him near the highway

Where he shouldn't really be

And no one else can see him but me

He just a time walker like me

A coyote sitting in the middle of the square

Howling up at the moon

He has been there crying for thousand years

The same one lonesome tune

No one else can hear him

And nobody else can see

No one that is accept me

He's just a time walker like me

A red tailed hawk sails from the clouds
Then it disappears
I look up at the sky, again it’s there now
Like a spirit in the air
But its more than just a spirit

It’s timeless and it’s free

And it can only be seen by me

The hawk is a time walker like me

Some see these spirits and some they don't

Others share this gift of mine

Spirits travel on the wind like smoke

Then cross the planes of time

And there are spirits that are eternal

Forever they'll always be

And no one can see them but me

A time walker forever I’ll be

I’m a time walker I can walk on time

I can walk ahead, I can walk behind

I’m a time seer I can see time

I can see yours I can see mine

I look for the signs and I walk through time

- Kiišθwa

The Time Walker

Document: Letter from the Baron Saint Castin

Latest Updates

January 2nd update how Pierre Drouillard saved the Life of Simon Kenton

January 3rd update: Which Drouillard met with George Washington at the capital in Philadelphia in 1796? Look into the Annals of the Drouillards 1796.

January 4th update: a copy of a letter signed by the Baron St. Castin a Grandfather on Jacquay Line (above)

January 5th several updates to the Annals

January 6th updates on the Annals

LETTER FROM LIEUT. J. P. DROUILLARD.

A letter from Lieut. Jas. P. Drouillard, who was in the battle at Manassas:

Camp Turnhill, Va.,
July 28th, 1861.

Dear Father: I am again back to our old camp, opposite to Washington, on the Potomac. The grand army, as you have doubtless heard ere this, was beaten by the enemy before Manassas, and completely routed. I cannot describe to you the scenes and events of our march to and from the battle-field. I was with a battallion of Regulars, numbering about 600 fighting men, under command of Maj. Syeks a Marylander by birth, but a true and loyal soldier. Four of my classmates were with me, and four of the class which graduated just before us---also two captains who were my instructors at West Point for three years. Our little battallion was on the field seven hours, and is the only one that never left the field after entering it, until the final retreat.

We won the victory at first, but while the rebels were falling back we saw in the distance immense volumes of dust raising, and knew they were reinforcements. Johnson's column came upon us just in time to turn the wavering scale. Our volunteers fought well at first, and wherever they met the enemy on equal grounds, they repulsed them. By some means a panic was created among our troops---whole regiments threw down their arms, and ran for their lives. When defeat became inevitable, Gen. McDowell said the safety of the army depended on the Regulars, and ordered Maj. Sykes, our commander, to cover the retreat of the volunteers. Our little band was surrounded at one time by their cavalry, artillery and infantry, but we fought our way out, and while interposed between the retreating volunteers and the pursuing enemy, we were subjected to the most terrific fire. Maj. Sykes was all through the Mexican war, and says he never saw anything like it. Two of our officers were taken prisoners; they fell wounded, and our retreat was so rapid we had to leave them. I will not attempt to picture to you the battle-field, your imagination will suggest to you what a horrible sight it is to see over one hundred thousand men, on a single plain, engaged in deadly encounter. I never expected to get off the field. I expected to fall every moment---men were falling all about me---legs and arms, flying in every direction---the groans of the dying, and screams of the wounded are still in my ears.

You can form no conception of the rout of a large army. We marched forty-seven miles that day, without food and without water and rest. We were so sure of success, that all our cooked rations, blankets, &c(etc)., were left in the enemy's rear, the point from which our column attacked. Twenty-five or thirty pieces of artillery, a large number of muskets, blankets, knapsacks, &c(etc)., fell into the hands of the enemy, besides many army wagons filled with munitions. The rebels are now hovering over Washington, and an attack is hourly expected. They had better not be to emboldened by their sucess. I think they lost two to one in killed and wounded. Gen. McClellan is here to supersede McDowell.

I would like to come home and see you all before we make another advance, because being with the Regulars, who never run, I do not expect to ever return from another campaign.

I hope you will get the trunk I sent you. My diploma and other valuables are in it; should I fall, my army trunk, containing many valuables, is stored at ____in Washington. My effects would be taken charge of by the War Department, but in case of difficulty, you will know where to apply. I will do my duty, and if the fortunes of war result adversely to me, I will leave a good record.

Your affectionate Son,

J. P. DROUILLARD,
Lieut. U. S. A.

Gallipolis Journal, (Gallipolis, Oh.) Thursday, August 08, 1861

JUST OUT IN HARD COVER