SPEECH OF LOGAN.
“I appeal to any white man to say, if ever he entered Logan’s cabin hungry, and he gave him no meat; if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During [[244]]the course of the last long and bloody war, Logan remained in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the whites, that my countrymen pointed as they passed, and said, ‘Logan is the friend of white men.’ Col. Cresap, the last spring, in cold blood, and unprovoked, murdered all the relations of Logan, not even sparing my women and children. There runs not a drop of my blood in any living creature. This called on me for revenge. I have sought it. I have killed many. I have fully glutted my vengeance. For my country I rejoice at the beams of peace. But do not harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He will not turn on his heel to save his life. Who is there to mourn for Logan? Not one.”
Never again did Logan possess a HOME. He wandered about for many years from settlement to settlement, restless, moody, and unhappy, and finally laid himself down in the forest to die. “There were none to mourn for Logan;” but very truly Jefferson remarks, “his talents and misfortunes have attached to him the respect and commiseration of a world.” [[245]]
CHAPTER XIII.
THE DARKEST PAGE OF INDIAN HISTORY.
The history of Treaties is by far the darkest of all the pages of Indian history. War and bloodshed are terrible,—terrible indeed; the stories of massacres chill the blood in our veins; and the bitter strife of war is revolting to all the finer feelings of our nature. But there has been a far more bitter strife of treaties, at which the heart bleeds, and the spirit moans.
When the Six Nations were fairly subdued, and settled on the free reservations which were left to them in the western part of New York, if they could have remained undisturbed, and experienced no more wrong or dishonor, they would soon have adopted the arts of civilization; and, through the instructions of the missionaries, have become a Christian people.
But the echo of the warwhoop and the booming cannon had no sooner died away, than there came among them an army of serpents in human form, wearing the semblance of angels of light. These were land speculators; and there is no species of bribery or corruption within the power of man to which they did not resort, in order to drive the Indians entirely from our borders.
By this means they were kept in a constantly unsettled state, so that for many years the labors of the missionaries seemed utterly in vain. Some of the chiefs [[246]]would now and then yield to bribery, and some to deception, and conclude to give up all they possessed, and remove beyond the Mississippi. And, as late as 1846, an emigration party was formed, and more than a hundred departed to the western wilds, where more than half of them perished before the end of a year.
By a gross and wicked fraud, the Buffalo reservation was finally obtained, so that the Indians were all obliged to move from their comfortable homes and well-tilled fields, and commence anew in the forests to fell trees, and plough, and plant, and sow. By a similar fraud, the Tonawanda reservation was claimed; but the chiefs and people would not remove, saying the treaty had never been signed by any member of those who had the power to make contracts, and they had no desire to part with another acre of their lands to white men. So the case is still in the courts, where thousands of dollars have been spent in an offensive and defensive war of words and quibbles. But the Indians now have lawyers among themselves, and firm friends and able counsellors among white people, and it is hoped the right will yet prevail.
During these troublous times there were many affecting appeals made to societies and the Government, which, one would think, might melt hearts of stone, and prove, too, that eloquence did not die with Red Jacket or Cornplanter.
These troubles, too, rallied around them many friends, especially among the Quakers, and awakened sympathy and renewed effort in their behalf. A few extracts from letters, written by those who defended them in the hour of their calamity, and from the speeches of some of their Chiefs, a few of whom are still living, will give some idea of what the Indian is in a civilized state, when literally seated by his fireside. [[247]]
Extract from a Report, made by a deputation of Friends, to investigate the true nature of the differences between the land speculators and the Indians:—
“It has been common for those who would deprive the Indians of their lands, first to describe them as ignorant, or stupid, or savage; and then, ‘for such worthy cause, to deem them as their lawful prey,’ to put them out of the pale of civilization, and then shut upon them the gate of mercy.
“But it is not true, that these remnants of the Six Nations are either barbarous or vicious. On the contrary, they are an innocent and improving people. Feeling their own weakness they have been forced to yield to oppression and injury; but they are neither quarrelsome nor vindictive. They are the remnant of a bold, warlike, and highly gifted race; fallen indeed from the dizzy height of a tremendous political and physical power, but bearing that fall with patience and dignity; inspiring respect, and rendering them objects of intense interest to the philanthropist and philosopher.
“These New York Indians, like all other communities of mankind, present great varieties of character and grades of intellect, but as a people, perhaps none of the aborigines of North America have equalled them in all the manifestations of mental power. They have not had the use of letters to store their minds with knowledge, or to record their own achievements; yet we know that they have had many great and talented men among them, who, making a very moderate allowance for the want of education, would not suffer by comparison with the greatest of European competitors. They have from the earliest times been considered a very extraordinary race, distinguished from all the surrounding nations by their capacity for negotiation, [[248]]eloquence, and war. Remarkable for the love of liberty, they scorned submission to foreign control. Baron La Houtan says of them, ‘They laugh at the menaces of kings and governors, for they have no idea of dependence—the very word to them is insupportable. They look upon themselves as sovereigns, accountable to none but God, whom they call the Great Spirit.’
“De Witt Clinton in his history of the Six Nations informs us, that they held supremacy over a country of amazing extent and fertility, inhabited by warlike and numerous nations, which must have been the result of unity of design and system of action, proceeding from a wise and energetic policy, continued for a long course of time. That in eloquence and dignity, and in all the characteristics of personal policy, they surpass an assembly of feudal barons.
“Their territory was estimated at 1,200 miles long by 700 broad, including the great lakes or inland seas which bound our possessions to the north. Among their orators they had a Garangula, a Cornplanter, a Red Jacket, and a Big Kettle, of whom an elegant writer has said, ‘they were men whose majesty of mind shone with a lustre that no belittling appellations could bedim.’ President Jefferson says, ‘I may challenge the whole orations of Demosthenes and Cicero, and of any more eminent orator, if Europe has furnished more eminent, to produce a single passage superior to the speech of Logan; yet this Logan was the son of a Cayuga chief, a Sachem of the New York Indians.’
“When the news spread among them that the treaty was signed, and their land sold, there was unutterable sorrow. To the poor Senecas it was ‘a day of darkness and of gloominess, of clouds and of thick darkness,’ through which a ray of gladness could not penetrate. [[249]]Consternation and gloom covered their settlements. Their women were seen on all sides weeping in their houses—along their roads—as they passed to their occupations, and in the fields whilst engaged in their labors. One of their chiefs, in a speech on the occasion said, ‘It seems as if we should be worn down. When we see our fields covered with grain, and our orchards loaded with fruit, it only increases our sorrows.’ The settled and expressive gloom that was manifested upon their countenances and deportment attested the reality of their sorrows.
“The cruelty of the attempt to drive the Indians away at this time was enhanced by the consideration that within the last half century, under the care of Friends, they had made great advances in civilization. They had good houses, barns, horses, wagons, horned cattle, sheep, swine, and farming utensils. They had places of worship and schools, many of them could read and write, and had books and private libraries. They had good farms, and some skill in agriculture. It would be far less cruel to drive the surrounding white population into the deserts beyond the Missouri, than to send there the Seneca Indians. The former would soon gather around them all the comforts of life—the latter would soon scatter, or perish for ever.”
The following is a communication to the Society of Friends at Baltimore, from twenty Chiefs of the Seneca Nation, making known their troubles.
Cattaraugus in Council, Oct. 5, 1845.
To the Committee of Friends,
“Brothers:—We are informed you are soon to hold a great Council in Baltimore, on the subject of our affairs. We pray the Great Spirit may strengthen you, and give you wisdom and direct you aright in all your deliberations. [[250]]
“Brothers:—We know you love us; the Great Spirit has taught you to do so. Your ears have been open to hear our cries, and your hearts inclined to help us in our distress. We cannot reward you; we have nothing to give you in return but our love and gratitude. This you have full and complete.
“Brothers:—When your fathers were weak and ours were strong, the Great Spirit led them to believe you were their friends; they helped you in your childlike condition. Things have changed! You have become great and strong, and we poor and weak. You are now paying us for what our fathers have done.
“Brothers:—Our troubles are great indeed. This you are sensible of, and have done much to relieve us in our distress; but the chains of the white men have grown, and continue to grow tight upon us at the loss and expense of our substance. They multiply, and become too heavy for us to endure.
“Brothers:—We have none (on earth) to look to for aid and protection, but you. When you forsake us, all is lost. Our wives and daughters wet their pillows with their tears, and pray the Great Spirit to keep your ears open that you may hear their cries.
“Brothers:—We have but little to say; our mouths are almost closed. Our hopes are in you. Farewell.”
Extract from an address to the Committee of the Four Yearly Meetings of Friends of New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore and Genesee, by several Indian Chiefs.
“When we turn our faces backward, and look over the histories of the past, we find that more than fifty winters have gone by since the Iroquois, or Six Nations, first selected [[251]]the Society of Friends as their friends, upon whom they could repose confidence without fear of being betrayed.
“The selection was made from the sects and denominations of those who styled themselves Christians, at the time when war had diminished the members of the Iroquois braves—when the Iroquois bowstring had been broken—when his council fires were nearly put out by the blood of his people, and the loud thundering voices of the big iron guns of the pale faces caused the ground to tremble beneath his feet, and his council house to shake to its very foundation—when oppression crushed the Iroquois, and cruelty made his heart bleed—when murder and robbery committed upon the red man, brought bounty to the spoiler committing the foul deed,—when the pale-faces, like hungry hounds, chased the red man from his hunting grounds.
“It was then that the red man’s sun was darkened, and the Great Spirit had drawn his sable garment before its shining face, and left his red children to roam in gloom and uncertainty. In looking round, the Iroquois saw none to assist him in his struggles for liberty, his country, and his firesides,—he found no sympathy from the pale-faced Christians, save from the Society of Friends, who, with the true principle of the spirit of Christianity implanted in their breast, guided by the dictation of the Good Spirit, and following the counsel and mandates of Him who never errs, came to our relief; not with powder, bullets, or arms, but with sympathy in their bosoms, pity in their hearts, and friendship in their hands; and our tradition informs us, that since the time this alliance was established between the Society of Friends and our people; nothing has occurred to mar our mutual [[252]]understanding, or tarnish the chain of friendship that bound us together.
“Brothers:—We hope that you may teach your children to love and pity the red man; so that when the Master of life and light shall call you hence, your red brothers may still have friends like you, and the good understanding now existing between us, be for ever perpetuated and cherished between your posterity and ours. For the services you have rendered us, accept the gratitude of an injured and oppressed race, and may the Great Spirit watch over and protect you.”
There were not at any time more than a fifteenth part of the whole nation in favor of removal, and the consent of those few was obtained by misrepresentation and bribery, for which sums were paid in different ways and at different times to the amount of $32,000. And yet at one time every rood of land was ceded, and the process of removal commenced. It is due to the Society of Friends to state, that it was through their persevering instrumentality that this great calamity was averted.
Among the most noble and venerable of the Seneca Chiefs was
Big Kettle.
In his bosom glowed the loftiest patriotism, and on his brow beamed the purest philanthropy. To him the sorrows of his people were the seeds of death; they ate into his heart, and drank his life-blood. He mourned over their desolation and wept over their sins.
“Oh, is there nothing we can do?” said he one morning to Mr. Wright, the missionary, who remained among them when there was little he could do but encourage them to resist unto the end, and pray that their strength might not fail and who stood by them, ready for any [[253]]service, in the darkest hours of their adversity. “Is there nothing more we can do? Yes, let us continue to petition,” was the answer, and an offer to write whatever he would say.
The result was a remonstrance, which in his own language was pathetic and touching in the extreme. On listening to it, I asked if in the translation it was not embellished; and the reply was, that no translation could do justice to the original. I can make only a few extracts.
“First, as a people, without exception, we love the land of our birth, the place of our fathers’ graves; and could we be permitted to retain undisturbed possession of the gifts of God to our people, not one of us would entertain a thought of emigration. We are satisfied with our country, we neither ask nor seek a better one.
“But we are told we can never live in peace here; that the land of the Indians’ peace is far towards the setting sun. Let us lay open our hearts to your honorable body. We are troubled. Why should it be said that we can have no peace here? The age, wisdom, and dignity of a great nation are yours. You can resolve our doubts for us. The United States have land enough. You have abundant means of communication. In all your wide country, your steamboats, rail cars, and carriages can bear your people whithersoever they wish to go. Neither have you any lack of wealth, that your people should wish to become rich at our expense. Neither have we given you any ground of complaint against us.
“We have fought by the side of one of your greatest generals. He still lives to bear testimony to our fidelity. Yes, the blood of our chiefs was shed on the battle-field for what you then told us was our common country. It was mingled with the blood of your enemies slain by our [[254]]hands, and that too at your solicitation, at a time when you said you stood in need of our aid. Why then can we have no peace in a land whose peace we helped to buy at such a price?
“It is true we are now few and weak; you are numerous and mighty, but you are also magnanimous. The great hearts which beat in the bosoms of your chiefs and head men, would not let them oppress the remnant of any nation almost wasted from the earth, much less the remnant of friends who once fought and bled for them.
“It is true, indeed, we are almost wasted away. The smallest of your ten thousand towns has in it more people than our whole nation. And can it then be any satisfaction to the United States to set their foot upon the neck of an old man, even now tottering into his grave? We cannot understand these things. We wish, if we must all go into the grave, and perish from the earth, to lie together in the same dust with our forefathers. The strange, unhallowed earth of other lands will press heavily upon our bosoms. It will be cold—we cannot sleep in such graves.
“We cannot flourish there if our hearts are not there—if we go against our will—if we are driven forth heart-broken and dispirited. No: men will starve and perish in the most luxuriant soil on earth if compelled to take possession of it under such circumstances. We must go contentedly—we must go cheerfully, in order to be benefited by the kind offers of the government; and, above all, we must go unitedly. The bands which held us together have been torn. Now, the flames of strife burn high between friends and brethren. If you push us off hastily together, we shall only go to devour each other till we are consumed. And even if we should not absolutely destroy each other, we could not flourish. The oak riven by the thunderbolt will not grow again. A kind, gentle [[255]]hand might transplant sprout after sprout, and raise up perhaps a forest there. But after the lightning’s shock, neither root nor branch retains the power of germinating. What harm can our remaining do you? What is the use of a few thousand acres of land to a nation like the United States? But an honorable name—the love and friendship of those whom God has placed under your care, and, above all, THE CONSCIOUSNESS OF DOING RIGHT, will be of great importance.
“Thus we have laid open our hearts to you. Our warriors, and our women and children will take their own way to make known their concurrence. We hope you will attentively consider what we have said. We have trespassed long upon your patience, but with HOME and COUNTRY,—our fathers’ graves, and the honor of the United States at stake, we could not have said less. May the Great Being who controls the counsels and destinies of nations guide you to a right decision.”
Big Kettle furnished another gratifying instance that an Indian could resist temptation, and maintain his integrity through the darkest hours of adversity and the most aggravating wrongs. There are many among his own people and among white men, who knew him, who pronounce him a greater man than Red Jacket. He lived to a later day, and felt more keenly, if this were possible, the woes which seemed to fall thicker and faster upon the Indian as years wore on. His head was always clear, for not a drop of the fire-water ever touched his lips. There was a more softened dignity in his deportment and more affability in his manners than was experienced in intercourse with Red Jacket. He had finer sensibilities, and though there is a vein of sarcasm often in his speeches, it was not so bitter as that which ran through almost every thing Red Jacket said. He remained [[256]]a Pagan to the day of his death, though he seemed to lose some of his interest in Pagan ceremonies. He endeavored earnestly to elevate his people, and promote a true spirit of morality. A distinguished statesman and infidel who proposed establishing a school for propagating infidelity, once fell into company with Big Kettle, and attempted to convince him that there was no God, and to prejudice him against the missionaries, and excite him to bitter enmity against religion; but the Indian’s trust in the Great Spirit was not moved, and though he did not understand the Christian’s God, his sagacious mind quickly discovered the fallacy of the atheist’s arguments, and he was thoroughly disgusted with his coarse manners and conversation, and the want of principle which was manifest in his motives.
He said he was led to abjure the fire-water by witnessing the evil influence of it upon his father, and the misery it introduced into their otherwise happy family.
He literally died of a broken heart. There were some among the chiefs who were in favor of the treaty, and one day in the council house, strife arose to such a height, and discussion became so warm, that tomahawks were unsheathed, and there was danger of something more terrible than a war of words. I have seen the one which gleamed in Big Kettle’s hand on that occasion, but it was allowed to do no harm, and it was this that grieved the patriotic old man more than any thing else, to see Iroquois at enmity with one another. It was not so in the days of old. Oh, how changed! The Indians were once all brethren; but now they were divided. To see them wasted was not so sad as to see them broken and degenerate. He mourned and would not be comforted, and like Logan went away into the forest, and shut himself in a lonely cabin to die. [[257]]
The missionary learned his retreat and visited him, trying to speak comfort to his spirit, but in vain. He tried also to lead him to the Christian’s God, and explain to him the Christian’s faith. But this too was vain. He said the Great Spirit had not seen fit to give the Indian the good book which white people talked about, and he would not therefore punish him for not knowing what it contained. “Big Kettle,” said he, “has never done wrong to his fellow man. Big Kettle has never taken what belonged to another—has never told a lie. The Great Spirit knows Big Kettle loves him, and he will take him to the good place when he dies.” So, firm in his trust in the Indian’s God, he departed in the year 1839, without a single fear of death, or unwillingness to go, and to the Great Spirit we will leave him. “He alone is judge.”
Speech of Gayashuta, addressed to the Society of Friends.
“Brothers:—The sons of my beloved brother Onas.[1] When I was young and strong, our country was full of game which the Good Spirit sent for us to live upon; the lands which belonged to us were extended far beyond where we hunted; I and the people of my nation, had enough to eat, and always something to give our friends, when they entered our cabins, and we rejoiced when they received it from us; hunting was then not tiresome—it was a diversion—it was a pleasure.
“Brothers:—When your fathers asked land of my nation, we gave it to them, for we had more than enough. Gayashuta was among the first of the people to say, ‘give [[258]]land to our brother Onas, for he wants it, and he has always been a friend to Onas and his children.’
“Brothers:—Your fathers saw Gayashuta when he was young; when he had not even thought of old age or weakness; but you are too far off to see him now he has grown old. He is very old and feeble, and he wonders at his own shadow—it becomes so little.
“He has no children to take care of him, and the game is driven away by the white people, so that the young men must hunt all day to find game for themselves to eat; they have left nothing for Gayashuta. And it is not Gayashuta only, who is becoming old and feeble—there yet remains about thirty of your old friends, who, unable to provide for themselves, or to help one another, have become poor, and are hungry and naked.
“Brothers!—Gayashuta sends you a belt, which he received long ago from your fathers, and a writing which he received but as yesterday from one of you. By these you will remember him, and the old friends of your fathers in this nation; look on this belt and this writing, and, if you remember the old friends of your fathers, consider their former friendship and their present distress; and, if the Good Spirit shall put it into your hearts to comfort them in their old age, do not disregard his counsel. We are men; and therefore need only tell you that we are old, and feeble, and hungry, and naked; and that we have no other friends but you,—the children of our beloved brother Onas.”
There have been attempts to prove that the Friends, as well as others, were guilty of injustice, fraud, and deception towards the Indians, but I can nowhere find these charges substantiated; and it is sufficiently convincing to any unprejudiced mind, that the universal impression among the red men would not be that the Friends [[259]]were different from other white people, if they had not seen it demonstrated. Whether at the North or the South, the East or the West, the impression of the Indian concerning the pale-faces is the same. The Pequod and the Cherokee, the Seminole and the Dacotah, experience the same treatment, and utter the same sentiment.
The speech of Black Hawk, when, after a long and desperate conflict, he was taken and imprisoned, is the lamentation of all.
“The Sun rose dim on us in the morning, and at night sank in a dark cloud, and looked like a ball of fire. That was the last sun that shone on Black Hawk. His heart is dead, and no longer beats quick in his bosom. He is now prisoner to the white man; they will do with him as they wish. But he can stand torture, and is not afraid of death. He is no coward. Black Hawk is an Indian. He has done nothing for which an Indian ought to be ashamed. He has fought for his countrymen, the squaws, and pappooses, against white men, who came year after year to cheat them, and take away their lands. You know the cause of their making war. It is known to all white men. They ought to be ashamed of it. The white men despise the Indians, and drive them from their homes. But the Indians are not deceitful. The white men speak bad of the Indian, and look at him spitefully. But the Indians do not tell lies; Indians do not steal.
“An Indian who is as bad as a white man could not live in our nation; he would be put to death, and eaten up by wolves. The white men are bad schoolmasters; they carry false looks, and deal in false actions; they smile in the face of the poor Indian, to cheat him; they shake him by the hand, to gain his confidence, to make him drunk, and ruin his wife. We told them to let us alone, and keep away from us; but they followed on, and [[260]]beset our paths, and they coiled themselves among us like the snake. They poisoned us by their touch. We are not safe, we lived in danger. We were becoming like them—hypocrites and liars, adulterers, and lazy drones.
“There were no deer in the forest; the opossum and the beaver were fled; the springs were drying up, and our squaws and pappooses without food. The Spirit of our Fathers awoke, and spoke to us to avenge our wrongs or die. We all spoke before the council fire. It was warm and pleasant; we set up the warwhoop, and dug up the tomahawk; our knives were ready, and the heart of Black Hawk swelled high in his bosom when he led his warriors to battle. He is satisfied. He will go to the world of spirits contented.
“Black Hawk is a true Indian. He feels for his wife, his children, and friends. But he does not care for himself. He cares for the nation and the Indians. They will suffer. He laments their fate. The white men do not scalp the head; but they do worse,—they poison the heart; it is not pure with them. His countrymen will not be scalped; but they will in a few years become like white men, so that you cannot trust them; and there must be, as in the white settlements, nearly as many officers as men, to take care of them, and keep them in order.
“Farewell my nation! Black Hawk tried to save you, and avenge your wrongs. He has been taken prisoner, and can do no more. His sun is setting, and will rise no more. Farewell to Black Hawk!”
I have not any where made extracts from the bloody records of war, or related instances of Indian barbarity; but if I had, they would have formed a pleasing picture for the mind to dwell upon, compared with the history of the controversy which was waged between a simple, trustful [[261]]band of Indians, and the thieves and robbers who invaded them with weapons more deadly than tomahawks and scalping-knives—weapons which they could not see, and therefore could not repel. I have given but a glimpse of the long struggle; but I will not dwell upon it longer, for, as far as the Iroquois are concerned, it is ended, we trust, though there is still an effort, and, perhaps, a hope, to weary out the Indians, and thus gain their possessions. But it is futile; they will not part with them but with their blood.
As far as most of them are concerned, those days of clouds and thick darkness have passed away, and with them should vanish the prejudice and mutual distrust to which they gave rise.
Now, the Indians on all these lands are tillers of the soil, and you may ride miles in every direction, and see their fruitful fields and comfortable dwellings, indicating an industrious and an eminently peaceful and happy people. And if you come into this little church, you will see that they are also a Christian people. At first you might smile at the peculiarities in the dress of the women, for they persist, and very properly, I think, in not adopting the dress which we call civilized, but which better deserves the name of barbarous. No screws or lacings mar their forms, and their outer dress is still short and very loose. The elder women sit with uncovered heads, their long black hair tied in braids with gay ribbons down their necks. The younger women have quite universally adopted the gypsy hat with gay streamers, and all wear shawls, generally very tasteful and handsome. This costume, with the rich brown tint of their soft skins, gives them a picturesque and pleasing appearance.
They have large portions of the Bible, a hymn-book, and several school-books in their native tongue, and rich [[262]]music it is when they all stand up and sing “with the spirit and the understanding,” good old-fashioned tunes in their own rich and peculiarly expressive language. There are aged men and manly youths, matrons, maidens, and tiny babies; and all, not excepting the little ones, are very respectful and serious in their deportment.
The sermon to-day is by one of their own people, a chief, and though it is Greek to me, as far as edification is concerned, I listen more attentively than I do sometimes to what I can understand, for there is something very fascinating in the language and in the speaker. He is not a minister, but occupies the pulpit to-day, because both the missionaries are absent to attend an annual meeting at a distant place; but he is superintendent of the Sabbath-school, and though he comes six miles, has been absent but twice I believe in three years. Many who are present have been in the habit of walking eight or nine miles, men, women, and children, and are as sure to be present as the Sabbath bell is to ring.
Here the Indian is the Indian still, and among the youths and maidens of the present generation, there are some noble specimens of this still noble race; and the intermingling of Saxon blood, wherever it has taken place, has caused no deterioration.
As my book is written with the hope of disseminating the truth, and thus removing prejudice, I will give an instance of the prejudice which exists, and doubt not the same incident would have occurred in any city where the trial had been made.
The first Sabbath I attended church, I noticed by my side a fine-looking woman, with the richest tint of clear Mingoe blood upon her cheeks, and her raven hair in soft flowing masses, curving upon her temples, and twined in classic braids behind. Tall and portly in figure, and [[263]]dignified in deportment, she particularly attracted my attention, and the sweet and intelligent expression of her face told that she was no common woman.
I asked who she was; and learned that she was the step-daughter of their most distinguished chief, Red Jacket, and one of whom he was particularly fond. She was a child when he was an old man, and sat on his knee, and stroked his withered cheek and kissed his brow, and received his most affectionate caresses. Her mother was the second wife of the great orator, and the faithful friend of the missionaries, and a consistent member of the little mission church during all the latter years of her life. The daughter, therefore, has had a Christian education, and is a thoroughly sensible and very interesting woman. But while I listened to this answer and made these remarks, I also listened to a story which made me blush for my people.
A few years ago, when the American Board held their annual meeting in an eastern city, the wife of the missionary, Mrs. Wright, was requested to bring one of the Indian women who could speak English, and was also familiar with her native language, that many more might be interested in their labors by witnessing the fruits. This was the woman she selected to accompany her. There was of course a great crowd of people, and hotels and boarding-houses were more than full. The one where they took up their abode, had the table surrounded with what are termed, in fashionable parlance, genteel people, and here the missionaries and the chieftain’s daughter of a proud race took their place, as worthy to occupy the same position and receive the same politeness. What was their surprise, to see upon the countenances of those who sat opposite them, indignation and conscious insult, that a lady of a different people, and with a darker hue, [[264]]should be permitted to dine with them as an equal! No notice was taken of their contemptuous looks and gestures, but what was the surprise of the offending party to find at the next meal that the table was vacated—they were left alone. The hostess then explained the cause of offence, and requested that the squaw might take her place at the second table, as they should lose their boarders if she did not. The missionaries answered, that if she sat at the second table they must also; and to this proposition she, without blushing, acceded; and during the remainder of the time, the vulgar gentility of the establishment were not troubled by the presence of two dignified, lady-like, Christian women, as far above their comprehension as the heavens are above the earth. They ate and drank without danger of contamination! It is one of the peculiarities of the Indians never to betray emotion unseasonably, and though it was evident that Mrs. L. understood the designed humiliation, she never by word or look made it manifest. It is also characteristic of them, that when introduced into society, where the customs are different from theirs and entirely new, they manifest no embarrassment or ignorance, but conform with wonderful tact; and while seeming to be indifferent, really observe minutely, and afterward relate every thing that passes.
How the disgraceful and utterly uncivilized conduct of these few who represent a large portion of what is called civilized society, was portrayed by this injured woman to her own people, I know not. I only know that she bore the insult with Christian meekness. She is the woman of whose girlhood I have spoken in the life of Red Jacket, and had he lived his fondest wishes concerning her would have been realized. She grew up to be a woman of whom he might well have been proud. Her husband is the grandson of a British officer, who loved an [[265]]Indian maiden, and took her to be his wife. When his term of service expired he returned to England, but not without using every persuasion to induce his dusky bride to accompany him. She would not consent to go, fearing she might not be recognized as wife when so far away, and claimed the right, which was most reluctantly granted, of retaining their little son. For many years his father annually remembered him, and sent gold and magnificent presents to testify his love, but at length they ceased, and nothing more was ever heard concerning him. As there were no surnames among the Indians, the child was not called by his father’s name, and it soon became lost to all who ever knew him this side the water. If my Indian friends have any cousins among the lords or nobles of England, they might not care to have me supply the links which would bring them to the knowledge of each other; but I can assure them that the blood of the daughter of an Iroquois Chief has not degraded that of any Peer of the Realm. [[266]]
[1] Onas is the Indian word for quill, and by this name they always spoke of William Penn. [↑]
CHAPTER XIV.
THE EDUCATED INDIAN.
The following extracts are taken from speeches made by young educated Indians, who are still living and laboring among their people. The first was made before the Historical Society of New York, in behalf of the little company of Cayugas who emigrated beyond the Mississippi, and were reduced to such extreme suffering that a great proportion of them died in less than a year. It was proposed to bring back the remainder, and a speech to excite sympathy and raise funds was made by Dr. Wilson, who obtained ten thousand dollars for this purpose, five hundred of which was given by a member of the Society of Friends in Baltimore.
“The honorable gentleman has told you that the Iroquois have no monuments. Did he not previously prove that the land of Gano-no-o, or the Empire State as you love to call it, was once laced by our trails from Albany to Buffalo—trails that we had trod for centuries—trails worn so deep by the feet of the Iroquois that they became your own roads of travel as your possessions gradually eat into those of my people? Your roads still traverse those same lines of communication and bind one part of the long house to another. The land of Gano-no-o—the Empire State—then is our monument! and we wish its soil to rest above our bones when we shall be no more. We shall not long [[267]]occupy much room in living; we shall occupy still less when we are gone; a single tree of the thousands which sheltered our forefathers—one old elm under which the representatives of the tribes were wont to meet—will cover us all; but we would have our bodies twined in death among its roots on the very soil where it grew! Perhaps it will last the longer from being fertilized with their decay.
“I have been told that the first object of this Society is to preserve the history of the State of New York. You, all of you know, that alike in its wars and in its treaties the Iroquois, long before the Revolution, formed a part of that history; that they were then one in council with you, and were taught to believe themselves one in interest. In your last war with England, your red brothers—your elder brothers—still came up to help you, as of old, on the Canada frontier! Have we, the first holders of this prosperous region, no longer a share in your history? Glad were your forefathers to sit down upon the threshold of the ‘Long House’; rich did they then hold themselves, in getting the mere sweepings from its doors. Had our forefathers spurned you from it when the French were thundering at the opposite end, to get a passage through and drive you into the sea, whatever has been the fate of other Indians, the Iroquois might still have been a nation; and I—I—instead of pleading here for the privilege of lingering within your borders—I—I—might have had—a country!”
This was delivered extemporaneously, and was very long, but only these few sentences have been preserved, and for these we are indebted to Mr. Hoffman, who devoted to the author and his subject a long article in the Literary World the next day.
The following was delivered before an enlightened assembly by Mr. Maris B. Pierce. [[268]]
“It has been said, and reiterated so frequently as to have obtained the familiarity of household words, that it is the doom of the Indian to disappear—to vanish like the morning dew before the advance of civilization—before those who belong by nature to a different, and by education and circumstances to a superior race; and melancholy is it to us—those doomed ones—that the history of this country, in respect to us, and its civilization, has furnished so much ground for the saying, and for giving credence to it.
“But whence and why are we thus doomed? Why must we be crushed by the arm of civilization, or the requiem of our race be chanted by the waves of the Pacific, which is destined to ingulf us? Say ye, on whom the sunlight of civilization has constantly shone—into whose lap Fortune has poured her brimful horn, so that you are enjoying the highest and best spiritual and temporal blessings of this world, say, if some being from fairy land, or some distant planet, should come to you in such a manner as to cause you to deem them children of greater light and superior wisdom to yourselves, and you should open to them the hospitality of your dwellings and the fruits of your labor, and they should by dint of their superior wisdom dazzle and amaze you, so as, for what to them were toys and rattles, they should gain freer admission and fuller welcome, till, finally, they should claim the right to your possessions, and of hunting you, like wild beasts, from your long and hitherto undisputed domain, how ready would you be to be taught of them? How cordially would you open your minds to the conviction that they meant not to deceive you further and still more fatally in their proffers of pretended kindness?
“How much of the kindliness of friendship for them, and of esteem for their manners and customs would you feel? Would not ‘the milk of human kindness’ in your [[269]]breasts be turned to the gall of hatred towards them? And have not we, the original and undisputed possessors of this country, been treated worse than you would be, should any supposed case be transferred to reality.
“But I will leave the consideration of this point for the present, by saying, what I believe every person who hears me will assent to, that the manner in which the white people have habitually dealt with the Indians, makes them wonder that their hatred has not burned with tenfold fury against them, rather than that they have not laid aside their own peculiar notions and habits, and adopted those of their civilized neighbors.
“For instances of those natural endowments, which, by cultivation, give to the children of civilization their great names and far-reaching fame, call to mind Philip of Mount Hope, whose consummate talents and skill made him the white man’s terror, by the display of those talents and that skill for the white man’s destruction.
“Call to mind Tecumseh, by an undeserved association with whose name one of the great men of your nation has obtained more of greatness than he ever merited, either for his deeds or his character. Call to mind Red Jacket, formerly your neighbor, with some of you a friend and familiar, and to be a friend and familiar with whom none of you feel it a disgrace.
“Call to mind Osceola, the victim of the white man’s treachery and cruelty, whom neither his enemy’s arm nor cunning could conquer on the battle field, and who at last was consumed in ‘durance vile,’ by the corroding of his own spirit. In ‘durance vile,’ I say. Blot the fact from the record of that damning baseness, of that violation of all law, of all humanity, which that page of your nation’s history which contains an account of it must ever be! Blot out the fact, I say, before you rise up to call an Indian treacherous or cruel. [[270]]
“For an instance of active pity, of deep rational active pity, and the attendant intellectual qualities, I ask you to call to mind the story surpassing romance of Pocahontas; she who threw herself between a supposed inimical stranger and the deadly club which had been raised by the stern edict of her father, and by appealing to the affections of that father, savage though he was, overcame the fell intent which caused him to pronounce the white man’s doom. In her bosom burned purely and rationally the flame of love, in accordance with the dictates of which she offered herself at the Hymenial altar, to take the nuptial ties with a son of Christian England. The offspring of this marriage have been with pride claimed as sons and citizens of the noble and venerable State of Virginia.
“Ye who love prayer, hover in your imagination around the cot of Brown, and listen to the strong supplications, as they arise from the fervent heart of Catharine, and then tell me whether
‘—the poor Indian, whose untutored mind
Sees God in clouds and hears him in the wind,’
is not capable, by cultivation, of rationally comprehending the true God, whose pavilion is the clouds, and who yet giveth grace to the humble.
“The ill-starred Cherokees stand forth in colors of living light, redeeming the Indian character from the foul aspersions, that it is not susceptible of civilization and Christianization. John Ross stands before the American people, in a character both of intellect and heart, which many a white man in high places might envy, and yet never be able to attain! A scholar, a patriot, an honest and honorable man; standing up before the ‘powers that be,’ in the eyes of Heaven and men, now demanding, now supplicating of those powers, a regard for the rights of humanity, [[271]]of justice, of law—and still a scholar, a patriot, an honest and honorable man; though an Indian blood coursing in his veins, and an Indian color giving hue to his complexion, dooms him, and his children and kin, to be hunted at the point of the bayonet by those powers, for their home, and possessions, and country, to the ‘terra incognita beyond the Mississippi.’
“ ‘Westward the star of Empire takes its way,’ and whenever that empire is held by the white man, nothing is safe or enduring against his avidity for gain. Population is with rapid strides going beyond the Mississippi, and even casting its eye with longing gaze, for the woody peaks of the Rocky Mountains—nay, even for the surf-beaten shore of the western Ocean. And in process of time, will not our territory there be as subject to the wants of the white people, as that which we now occupy?
“I ask, then, in behalf of the New York Indians, that our white brethren will not urge us to do that which justice, humanity, religion, not only do not require, but condemn. Let us live on where our fathers lived, and enjoy the advantages our location offers us, that we who are converted heathens, may be made meet for that inheritance which the Father hath promised to give the Son, our Saviour; so that the deserts and waste places may be made to blossom like the rose, and the inhabitants thereof utter forth the high praises of our God.
“The government instituted by our ancestors many centuries ago, was remarkable for its wisdom, and adapted to the then condition of our nation. It was a republican, and purely democratic government, in which the will of the people ruled. No policy nor enterprise was carried out by the Council of the Grand Sachems of the Confederacy, without the sanction and ratification of the people, and it was necessary that it should receive the consent of [[272]]the confederate tribes. The consent of the warriors alone was not deemed sufficient, but the women,—the mothers of the nation were also consulted; by this means the path of the wise Sachems was made clear—their hands were made strong, their determinations resolute, knowing full well that they had the unanimous support of their constituents; hence the confederacy of the Iroquois became great and strong, prosperous and happy; by their wisdom, they became statesmen, orators, and diplomatists; by their valor and skill in the war-path, they became formidable—they conquered and subdued many tribes, and extended their territory.
“This was our condition when the pale-faces landed upon the eastern shores of this great island. Every nation has its destiny. We now behold our once extensive domains reduced to a few acres; our territory, which once required the fleetest moons to traverse, is now spanned by the human voice. Yes, the Chiefs under our ancient form of government have reduced our possessions, so that now when we put the seed of the melon into the earth, it sprouts, and its tender vine trails along the ground, until it trespasses upon the lands of the PALE-FACES.”
When Colonel McKenney was writing his Indian history, he addressed a letter of inquiry to General Cass, asking whether he ever knew an instance of Indian war or massacre, that was not provoked by the white man’s aggression. To this letter he received the following laconic reply:
Dear Colonel:—
Never! Never! NEVER!
Yours truly,
Lewis Cass.
[[273]]
General Houston, in speeches lately made at Washington and at Boston, has made the same statement; and this, any one thoroughly acquainted with Indian history, will confirm. Had there been nothing more to rouse Indian ferocity, it was enough to see his favorite hunting-grounds devastated, and the desecration of the graves of his fathers. We will not enter into the merits of the question, whether it would have been right to permit so wide an extent of country, capable of supporting millions, to remain in the possession of so few. It is an important question; but when we judge the Indian, we are to look upon the invasion as it appeared to him. In his eyes, the invaders were thieves and robbers,—yes, barbarians and savages. Their mode of warfare, and their system of destroying, were more inhuman and terrible than any thing he had ever witnessed or imagined.
To expect them to yield their territory without a struggle, and a desperate struggle, was an expectation which only an idiot could entertain; and to expect them to lay aside their wild, roving habits, and easy, careless life, for one of toil and drudgery, with none of the advantages of civilization and Christianity apparent to them, was quite as ridiculous. They were every where obliged to yield to the LAW OF FORCE, with only now and then a glimpse of the LAW OF KINDNESS. The good John Robinson, of Plymouth memory, even in his day “began to doubt whether there was not wanting that tenderness for the life of man, made after God’s own image, which was so necessary;” and says, “It would have been happy if the early Colonists had converted some, before they killed any.”
So early as 1623, it sometimes occurred that “Indians, calling in a friendly manner, were seized and put in irons.” “The General Court of Massachusetts once [[274]]offered one hundred pounds each for ten Indian scalps; and forty white warriors went forth to win the prize, and returned with ten scalps stretched on poles, and received the one thousand pounds!”
The Indian had no other law than an “eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth;” but there was, probably, not one among the early Colonists, who had not the Gospel of Christ, as well as the Ten Commandments.
For myself, I have wondered that the fire of revenge and hatred should ever have gone out in a single Indian bosom; that he should have been willing to receive the missionary and school-teacher from among a people who had so forfeited their title to Christian, and practised so contrary to their professions. But whoever will take the trouble to wander among the peaceful valleys of Cattaraugus and Alleghany, will be convinced that the natural and artificial passions of Indians may be lulled, and the gall and wormwood which wrong and oppression have engendered in their hearts, may be converted into the sweetest milk of human kindness. They have learned to distinguish between the possessor and the professor; they have learned to value the good gifts it is in our power to bestow, and are willing to sit at our feet and learn wisdom.
It has become an annual custom among the Senecas to hold a national picnic, to which the people are all invited. The ceremonies are conducted as at similar festivals among other people, and I would like to have had the world, the unthinking, and still inexcusable ignorant world, look upon a scene which was represented not long since in the forest by North American Indians.
Some strangers who happened along here a few months since, exclaimed, “Why, how have you created such a paradise here, and nobody ever has heard of it?” He [[275]]looked abroad upon the cultivated fields and comfortable dwellings, and could not believe that the Indians had done all this. They are so entirely a distinct and peculiar people, that though living near a great city, and surrounded by an inquisitive and aggressive people, they are less known in the general community than the Chinese or the Laplanders.
What has wrought this great change? The quiet labors and the small still voice of the missionary and the school-teacher. As well as I could, I have pictured the Indian as he was, and now I wish you to look upon him as he is. Just stand with me upon this little hill, and look upon this gay concourse of people. At our feet is a beautiful grove of elms and oaks and maples, on the borders of a silver stream, so clear that it is a perfect mirror to the shining pebbles upon its bed. It bears still an Indian name, the Cattaraugus, and flows on to mingle its waters with Lake Erie.
There is music in the distance. Look up and you will see a procession. It is heralded by the Seneca National Band, in a costume of red and white, and the tune is Yankee Doodle, though the musicians are all Indians. Then comes the Marshal, who would be singled out by an observer, on any occasion, as a genuine son of a proud race, by his fine figure and noble bearing. With his rich dress, on his caparisoned steed, he is truly princely.
Then follow the children of the six several schools, their soft voices joining in a lively hymn, under the care of their teachers; all with gala dresses and distinguishing badges, and flags waving in the breeze. Another band, “The Sons of Temperance,” bring up the rear, and slowly they come marching on, crossing the stream upon a temporary bridge, wheeling about in several military evolutions, and arrange themselves in groups around the platforms [[276]]wreathed with evergreens, on which the President of the day and the Speaker stand. He who presides is one of the oldest and most venerable of the chiefs of his people. He is dressed in black, with a broad white silk scarf, terminating in crimson fringes, crossing his breast and falling gracefully at his side. Around him are other venerable men, whose memories easily go back to the time when there was not a Christian in the whole nation. Now the missionary pastor, who has for twenty years labored among them, and can very justly look around him and call what he beholds the fruit of his labors, lifts his voice to crave the blessing of Heaven upon their festal gathering. You will listen to the speaking which follows with interest, though you will not understand the language in which some of the addresses are made. It is not so musical as rich, and falls on the ear like the deep voice of the cataract, rather than the low murmuring rill. But those who think the Indian has no vein of humor and no love of pleasantry, should listen to him when he is surrounded only by his kindred—those who can appreciate him, and whom he can trust. Solemnity, enthusiasm, and mirthfulness, play alternately upon the features of the assembly, but there is in him so great a regard for decorum, that nothing like levity or untimely restlessness ever disturbs an Indian audience. There is the most respectful attention till the orators are seated, and then they gather around the table, which is tastefully and bountifully spread, in the form of a double square. Around it circle the guests, and within stand those who dispense the good gifts prepared for all who come. Here, too, is the order which seldom characterizes so large a number among people of any other name; and happiness, a quiet but soul appreciating happiness, is beaming upon every dusky face. [[277]]
When the feast is finished, the speakers again mount the rostrum, and as usual after a good dinner, all are more disposed to merriment. Before you are a thousand people of all ages, from the gray-haired man of ninety, to the tiniest baby that ever opened its eyes to the light. You may see there a group of laughing maidens, reclining upon the grass in the shade of a spreading oak, with their gypsy hats and bright streamers, and near by a bevy of matrons, with their raven hair braided in rich tresses, and their mantles gathered in folds about their waists. The musicians fill up the interstices between the speeches with thrilling and plaintive strains, till the daylight begins to fade and the red gleam of the setting sun gilds the forest tops. Then again they form in procession, and march away. The children number about two hundred; and are you realizing all this time that they are what some people still insist upon calling savages, and maintain can never become an educated, refined and cultivated people? really believing that they are incapable of appreciating learning, the arts, Christianity, and civilization? Contending that they ought to be removed far away into the Western forests to roam for ever wild, that the white man may not trample them as he tramples the beast and the reptile in his path? The laborers have been few, far too few for this beautiful vineyard, yet they have accomplished a great work. The population is now on the increase, and schools and churches are multiplying. The people are improving in agriculture, and pretty farms and houses are beginning to dot their hills and valleys. They are becoming a Christian and social people.
I have attended one or two parties, or social gatherings, at the houses of the missionaries, where there were perhaps fifty or sixty, and have seen far less comeliness and propriety of behavior among the same number of the [[278]]sons and daughters of New England. Indians have remarkable tact in conforming to the customs of other people, if they choose to exercise it, and when they are fully convinced that it is best to relinquish their own peculiar habits, they adopt new ones very readily. If land speculators would let them alone, and the State would perform its whole duty, they would soon prove that the last of the Senecas is not yet, nor for a long time to come. They would become a valuable element in our political and social organization—refute the slanders, and blot out the dark pictures which historians have been wont to spread abroad concerning them. May I live to see it done, for most deeply have I learned to blush for my people.
The speech from which I make the following extracts, was made by Mr. N. T. Strong. The President of the day was Henry Twoguns, the step-son of Red Jacket, and the Vice President, Dr. Wilson. The Marshal was Mr. M. H. Parker, and the bands were composed entirely of Indians.
His speech also, like the preceding ones, was made in English; and all are in better English than many I have read by foreigners of other nations who have had the same advantages of education.
“Ladies and Gentlemen:—I enter upon the duties assigned me by the committee of arrangements with much distrust. It is a difficult task at all times to speak in a foreign language, and I fear I shall not succeed to the satisfaction of myself or my audience.
“In some respects the present occasion is an extraordinary one—never before did the white man with his women and children meet with the red man and his women and children in a social picnic. It is an occasion to excite our gratitude and make us glad, and I would like for a [[279]]moment to present the past condition and relationships of the two nations in contrast with the present.
“That the red men were the first occupants of the soil is conceded by all. In this we had the start of the white man, perhaps because John Bull and the Dutchman had not been Yankeefied at that time, for we find after this transformation took place the white man had the start of us in every thing!
“In 1647 the confederacy of the Six Nations were able to raise 30,000 warriors. They had a regularly organized government, in which the rights of nations were distinctly defined; but the rights of individuals were not defined. War and the sports of the chase were then the pursuits of the red men. Their clothing was made of the skins of the animals they killed in the chase. Their food was the flesh of wild animals, and the corn and vegetables which were raised by the women, and the labor of the lodge was all performed by them. The conquests of the Iroquois had extended far to the south and west, and the name of the Ho-de-no-son-ne was a terror among all the surrounding nations.
“They roamed from river to river, and from valley to plain in pursuit of the buffalo, the bear, and the elk, and darted across lakes and rivers in their light canoes to find the beaver and otter, in order to take their furs. At appointed seasons they returned to the council fires of the several nations, for the transaction of public business and to keep the annual feasts.
“In 1776, more than a hundred years afterwards, we find them greatly reduced in numbers, though their customs are the same. The Mohawks, who dwelt on the banks of the Hudson, and along the valley which still bears their name, scarcely numbered four hundred souls. The Oneidas, who were situated next west of them, numbered [[280]]fifteen hundred, and the Onondagas, Cayugas, Senecas, and Tuscaroras, about ten thousand, and could raise two thousand warriors.
“Ladies and Gentlemen:—Let us now look at the white man in the same periods. In 1647 they had, capable of bearing arms, only 300 all told! Their pursuits were agriculture and commerce. They had a system of government, and written laws. The rights of nations and the rights of individuals were well defined. Their religion was founded upon the Bible. They were cold and calculating, and knew the value and uses of money. They also knew that land was better than money! They therefore made every effort to obtain it. The white man bought it of his red brother, and paid him little or nothing. He bought furs, too, at his own prices.
“We find him again in 1774 numbering 181,000. Their improvement, in numbers, wealth, and the arts and sciences, has been going steadily onward. The forests fell before the woodsman—the game, and those in pursuit of it, also continued to retreat, till both had nearly disappeared. Thus one of the occupations of the red man, like Othello’s, ‘was gone.’
“The land of the red man became cultivated—‘the wilderness blossomed as the rose.’ The white man built cities, towns, villages; he built churches, established colleges, academies, common schools, and other institutions of learning.
“Yes, you made canals, railroads, and your electric telegraph transmits news almost with the speed of thought. This is wonderful! The red man can yet scarcely comprehend it. Your commerce has extended over the world. Your ships are on every sea—your steamers on every river. In two hundred years your population has increased from six thousand to three millions. [[281]]
“Allow me to ask, what price did the red man receive for this broad domain? The public documents testify thus:—‘By these presents we do for ourselves and heirs and successors, ratify, confirm, grant, and submit, unto our most Sovereign Lord King George, by the Grace of God, King of Great Britain, &c., defender of the faith, &c., all the land lying between, &c.;’ here follows an indefinite description of the premises, including lakes, rivers, &c., and never paying a cent for it!
* * *
“Ladies and Gentlemen:—You see from this that your forefathers wronged the red man and took advantage of his ignorance. This you will now acknowledge. The red man has a long history of wrongs and griefs; though unrecorded by the hand of man, they are written in the Great Book of Remembrance kept by the Great Spirit, and He will inquire into this at your hands by and by, and He will do justice to his red children.
“I have not instituted these comparisons to represent the red man as an inferior, and you as a superior being. No. These results are owing to circumstances in the rise and fall of nations. And you must also bear in mind that the Great God in heaven, whom you profess to worship and adore, governs and directs the affairs of nations as well as individuals. The powerful nations that fall, and the weak that rise, do it alike at His bidding.
“But I appeal to you whether we are not entitled to your sympathy—whether we have not claims upon your assistance, in endeavoring to raise ourselves from the condition in which ignorance and prejudice have sunk our nation.
“The red man is aware of his condition. Yes, he feels it deeply. When he looks at the sun, the light of which [[282]]enabled his ancestors to look abroad upon a magnificent country, all his own, now peopled by another race, he feels alone—an alien from the commonwealth. There are no monuments to commemorate the deeds of his forefathers, as there are in the old world; but there are the mighty rivers and the eternal hills, which he has named.
“Ladies and Gentlemen:—The Six Nations are now represented before you. The President of the day is a Seneca, and a worthy representative of his nation—the Vice-President on his right is a Cayuga of the first water, and on the left a worthy Onondaga. One of your poets has said that ‘music has charms even to soothe a savage!’ and here is a band of musicians who have delighted us with their sweet strains, composed entirely of the descendants of Senecas and Tuscaroras, and I doubt not they have gratified even civilized ears!
“Ladies and Gentlemen:—You perceive we are changed. We already have schools, and books, and churches, and are fast adopting the customs of white men.
“For these improvements we are mainly indebted to the Missionaries of the American Board. Great is our debt of gratitude to these persevering and devoted men and women. And Oh, if you will but continue to extend to us the right hand of fellowship, we shall abundantly reward your efforts, and you will soon see among us a high state of cultivation and refinement.
“The missionaries have not made a great noise concerning their labors by blowing of the trumpet, but quietly and peaceably ‘have gone about doing good;’ and may they live to see fulfilled their most cherished hopes, and answered their fervent prayers.”
Here I have permitted the Indian to speak for himself, [[283]]and have given only a few of the proofs which I have of a similar kind, that neither education, nor civilization, nor Christianity enervates the mind or the body of the Indian.
If we had lived when our fathers lived, very probably we should have been like unto them; we should have been guilty of the same errors of judgment, and the same mistakes in practice. But now that we have no fear, and can look back upon the past as a whole, we are able to see clearly, where the actors could only grope in darkness. Yet with the experience of centuries to profit by, we are scarcely more ready to do justice.
We are in undisputed possession of all these fair domains, and we know the paltry price we have paid for them. We know that there is in our midst a remnant of this proud people, whom it is our duty, and whom it is in our power to save; and what have we done, and what are we doing to accomplish their salvation?
[[284]]
CHAPTER XV.
THE FUTURE OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN.
Every historian and prophet who has preceded me, has reiterated the prediction that “the doom of the Indian is extinction!” I shall not contradict it; but I fearlessly say, this ought not so to be. Is it not a libel upon Christianity, that it is not fitted for all the people of the earth? Is it not a libel upon Him, “who made of one blood all nations;” who made the heavens and the earth; that He contemplated the happiness of only one portion, and instituted a system of religion fitted only for a few?
He does not tell us that Christ came into the world, to be crucified and slain for the Saxon and the Norman alone! He died to redeem a world; and He said, “Go and preach the Gospel to all nations.” If He created a people incapable of receiving the Gospel and profiting by it, how strange the command that it should be preached to them. We look upon the instances of degeneracy among Indian youth who have been educated, and exclaim, “How fruitless are all our efforts!” without taking into consideration the true causes of this degeneracy, or the inefficacy of any means yet employed for the accomplishment of our ostensible object. Yet it is stated, that as far back as 1846, there were more Cherokees who could read the English or their own tongue, than could be [[285]]found among the white people, in proportion to the whole number, in any State of the Union!
In 1818, a plan was conceived for educating the Indians of the whole country, by the Superintendent of Indian Affairs, which, though in operation but a few years, proved conclusively that the Indian was capable of any degree of cultivation. He obtained from Congress an appropriation of ten thousand dollars, annually, for his purpose; and with the cordial approbation and co-operation of various missionary and religious societies, established schools among the Indians all along upon our western borders, from Lake Superior to Chattahoochee,—in which were gathered eighteen hundred children, “deriving instruction, and making as rapid advances in the various incipient branches of learning, in agriculture and the mechanic arts, as are made in any part of the United States by the children of white people.” Then arose a new power; the demons of avarice and selfishness ruled in the councils of our nation. These Indians, who had become a Christian people, with the religion of Christ for their religion—occupying lands, rich with the products of their industry—must be thrust forth, because they were a people of a darker hue than ourselves. So these flourishing schools were broken up; these happy children were deprived of all their means of improvement, and thousands of innocent people were compelled to leave their homes and firesides, and wend their way to the wilderness—leaving the pathway drenched with their tears, and stained with their blood.
And even now, what has the Indian youth to awaken hope, and excite ambition? Not even yet, in the State of New York, is he granted the privileges of citizenship, though his claims, as native American, are prior to those of every Saxon on her soil. He is a land-owner, an agriculturist, [[286]]an educated, a Christian man—but still treated as if he were an idiot or a brute.
The story of young James McDonald, in whom Colonel McKenney and Philip Thomas took so great an interest, illustrates the feelings of every red man, when he thinks of becoming like his white brethren. This young man was adopted into the family of Colonel McKenney, and being the age of his own son, enjoyed every privilege which he enjoyed. In the family and in the social circle they were equals, and were afforded the same advantages of education. The Indian youth was endowed with all the personal beauty of the noblest of his race, “with a manner the most gracious and winning,” said his adopted parent, “and a morality I never saw invaded.” Of his progress in study, when he had been only a little while at school, his teacher remarked, that “he came with his lessons better digested, and more Greek and Latin and mathematics in one of them, than the class to which he was attached could get through in a week,—so he was obliged to place him in a class by himself.”
When he had finished his academical studies, his benefactor chose for him the profession of the law. But he had begun to think of the difference between the treatment he was then receiving, and that which awaited him when he should go forth in the world, and he exclaimed, “Wherefore! wherefore! Of what use to me will be my present or future attainments? Oh, sir,” pressing his hand against his forehead as he continued, “it will be all lost on me. I am an Indian, and being an Indian, I am marked with a mark as deep and abiding as that which Cain bore. My race is degraded—trodden upon—despised.” He then took from his bosom a letter from his brother, who was a lieutenant in the navy, and whose bitter experience had wrung from him the following words: [[287]]“There is only one of two things to do: either throw away all that belongs to the white race and turn Indian, or quit being Indian and turn white man. The first you can do—the latter it is not in your power to do. The white man hates the Indian, and will never permit him to come into close fellowship with him, or to be a participator in any of his high prerogatives or distinguished advantages.”
When young James was asked if any thing in his experience in the family in which he lived, would justly lead him to such a conclusion, he answered: “No, sir; oh, no; no indeed. But this is an exception, and only serves to prove the rule. You are to me a father. My gratitude to you and your family can never die. I know I am treated with the greatest attention, even to tenderness.” The tears came to his eyes; he sat down and pressed his handkerchief to his face, until it was literally wet with weeping.
After awhile he spoke, saying, “Yes, sir; I will go to Ohio and read law with Mr. McLean. I will do any thing that it may be your pleasure for me to do. I should indeed be an ingrate to thwart your kind designs towards me in any thing. But the seal is upon my destiny!”
When the time was fixed for him to go, day after day he still lingered, so great was his reluctance to leave home, and father, and mother, and sisters and friends, to become, as he believed, an alien evermore. But he went, and in about half the time usually occupied in acquiring this profession, he was ready for the bar.
He was a Choctaw, and when he had finished his studies he returned to his people, on a visit to his mother. Whilst there he was chosen one of a company of delegates to come to Washington on business, and Mr. Calhoun and others, who were engaged with him in transacting it, were [[288]]astonished at his powers and his acquisitions. But his adopted parent saw with the deepest anguish that he was endeavoring to blunt his keen sensibilities, and stifle the conflict in his bosom by the intoxicating draught. He could not endure that one so gifted and so beautiful should be thus destroyed, and sought many opportunities of remonstrating with him. At one time he reminded him of the days he had spent under his roof—those days of innocence, and honor, and bliss. He sprang to his feet and exclaimed, “Spare me! oh, spare me! It is that thought which makes me so miserable. I have lost that sweet home and its endearments; the veil which was so kindly placed between me and my Indian caste has since been torn away. I have been made to see since that I cannot, whilst such anomalous relations exist, as do exist between the red and the white race, be other than a degraded outcast.”
He was invited to go back to that loved spot, and assured that the same welcome awaited him there that he had always experienced; but he said, “Oh, name it not to me, sir; I can never go there again! The very thought of those haunts where I was once so happy, and of the kindness shown me there, being met, as they are, and crushed by the consciousness of what I now am, distracts me.”
But he recovered, in some measure, his former self-reliance and cheerfulness, and returned to open a law office in Jackson, Mississippi, where his prospects were very flattering. Then came disappointed love, to ring again in his ears the doom of the red man, “You are an Indian—you belong to a degraded race.” Hope fled and despair took possession of him; he mounted a high bluff, overhanging the river, and precipitated himself into the water to rise no more. “Wherefore! wherefore!” He [[289]]might toil and earn money—riches might be within the reach, even of an Indian; but gold cannot satisfy a noble heart. He must not dream of honors, he must not dream of domestic happiness; and what is gold, aye, what is life, when all this is denied?
Let it suddenly be revealed to all the youth in our colleges, as an unalterable destiny, that they are evermore debarred from distinction, and the hope of one day forming for themselves a home, and being surrounded by a circle of loved ones, and what would there be to allure them up the hill of science? Would not every energy be paralyzed, and should we not with certainty expect to see them go down to perdition? The love of knowledge merely, is a little better than the love of money; but both are very ignoble motives to inspire immortal minds, and support them on the pilgrimage through this world. The desire of the approbation of heaven and of being useful on earth may be good, and perhaps should be sufficient motives; but how many among the most cultivated and Christian would falter, with only these to sustain them?
With a majority of people the idea is entertained that the nature of the Indian is so entirely different from the nature of the Saxon. This is true only in one sense—that education, and centuries of indulgence in peculiar habits, tend to make them second nature. The Indian is not alone in loving a wild roving life, free from care and toil.
So late as 1826, restoration to home and kindred was offered to several women who had been made captive and carried beyond Lake Superior, and they rejected the boon. They had become entirely released from the trammels of society, and cared not to be encumbered with them again.
Chateaubriand relates, that when travelling through the wilds of America, he heard that he had a countryman [[290]]who had become a resident of the forest. He visited him, not so much with a desire to see his countryman, as of philosophizing upon his condition. After several hours’ conversation, he put his last grand question:
“ ‘Phillip, are you happy?’
“He knew not, at first, how to reply. ‘Happy?’ said he, reflecting—‘happy?—yes;—but happy only since I became a savage.’
“ ‘And how do you pass your life?’ asked I. He laughed.
“ ‘I understand you,’ continued I. ‘You think such a question unworthy of an answer; but should you not like to resume your former mode of living, and return to your country?’
“ ‘My country—France? If I were not so old I should like to see it again.’
“ ‘And you would not remain there?’ The motion of Phillip’s head answered my question sufficiently. ‘But what induced you,’ continued I, ‘to become what you call a savage?’
“ ‘I don’t know,’ said he—‘instinct.’
“This expression put an end to my doubts and questions. I remained ten days with Phillip, in order to observe him, and never saw him swerve for a single moment from the assertion he had made. His soul, free from the conflict of the social passions, appeared, in the language of the Indian, calm as the field of battle, after the warriors had smoked together their calumet of peace.”
How many a trapper has become wed to a forest life. I never yet heard of one who voluntarily returned to the plough and the anvil. Why, then, should we expect an Indian to seek them? The same necessity must be laid upon him as upon us, ere he will toil, and he must be inspired [[291]]with the same motives, ere he will prefer knowledge to ignorance.
If there had been no wars in our country, except between the colonists and the Indians, Christianity might have been taught by example as well as precept. But three times since the settlement of America, the red man has been obliged to witness, and take part in bloody conflicts, between the very nations who professed to come to him with the religion which condemned war; and these nations were fighting about the very lands which they were constantly telling the Indian it was wrong for him to defend at the expense of life, though they were his birthright, and dear to him, as the inheritance of his fathers. Their invaders fought to defend what was not their own; why should not he defend what was his all?
It is strange that there have been so many, rather than that there have been so few, who were willing to receive Christianity, and the arts of civilization, from their oppressors. The proud lord of the forest never consented to become subject or slave. When he yielded, it was to stern necessity; and when we remember what he had to give up, and that when we had taken from him his possessions, and all he held most dear, giving him nothing in return, but the privilege of living as best he could, never calling him, or treating him as brother, or freeman; we cannot fail to see that he has done exactly as we should have done in the same circumstances.
As it was, the labors of Eliot and Mayhew, of Kirkland and Brainard, and many more in modern times, have not been without their reward. Mayhew wrote the lives of between one and two hundred “Christian men and women, and godly ministers,” and there is exhibited no difference between Indian Christians, and Christians of other nations. [[292]]
What a beautiful illustration of Christian principle was the famous Oneida Chief, Shenandoah. For sixty years he had been the terror of all who heard his name, when he listened to the gospel message from Mr. Kirkland, and immediately became a little child, in meekness and every Christian grace. He lived more than a hundred years; and when, a little while before he died, a friend called and asked concerning his health, he said, “I am an aged hemlock; the winds of a hundred winters have whistled through my branches. I am dead at the top (referring to his blindness). Why I yet live, the Great Good Spirit only knows. When I am dead, bury me by the side of my good minister and friend, that I may go up with him at the great resurrection.”
Kusick was a Tuscarora Chief, and where shall we look for a nobler instance of friendship than his towards Lafayette, or for Christian principle more firm and true than he evinced concerning his pension.
In the war of the Revolution he was under Lafayette’s command. Many years after peace was concluded, as he was passing through Washington, he accidentally heard the name of his old commander spoken in the office where he stopped for business. The moment his ear caught the sound, with eyes lighted and full of earnestness, he asked:
“Is he yet alive?”
“Yes,” was the reply, “he is alive, and looking well and hearty.”
With deep emphasis he said, “I am glad to hear it.”
“Then you knew Lafayette, Kusick?”
“Oh yes,” he answered, “I knew him well; and many a time in the battles, I threw myself between him and the bullets, for I loved him!”
On being asked if he had a commission, he said “Yes, General Washington gave him one, and he was lieutenant.” [[293]]This suggested to his friends that he was entitled to a pension, and on looking over the records, the truth of what he said was confirmed, and he received one for several years.
Afterwards, Congress passed a law making it necessary that each recipient should swear that he could not live without the pension. When the old chief was called upon to do this, he said, “Now here is my little log cabin, and it’s my own; here’s my patch where I can raise corn, and beans, and pumpkins; and there is Lake Oneida, where I can catch fish; with these I can make out to live without the pension, and to say I could not, would be to lie to the Great Spirit.” This was the honor of an Indian Chief; how many among those of our own people who receive pensions would have done likewise for conscience’ sake? Kusick could speak the English language very well, but when he made an audible prayer or said grace at table, he used his native Tuscarora, “because,” said he, “when I speak English I am often at a loss for a word; when therefore I speak to the Great Spirit, I do not like to be perplexed, or have my mind distracted to look after a word. When I use my own language, it is like my breath; I am composed.” In this is exemplified that he fully understood the reverence which was due to the Great Ruler.
Instances might be multiplied a hundred fold, to prove that the religion of Christ can soften and renew the heart of the fiercest warrior of the wilderness, as well as the heart of the child of civilization. The records of missions numbers forty thousand Indian converts; and, if only half these have become genuine followers of the cross of Christ, the patient and faithful missionary has not labored in vain.
There is a little remnant still left among us; and if [[294]]these are permitted to perish, it will not be the fault of our fathers, and the dark age in which they lived. We know their wants and their capacities, and have abundant means for all the good we please to accomplish.
Of the Iroquois there are three thousand; of Indians within our jurisdiction, three hundred thousand. They should be citizens of our republic; their oaths should be respected in our courts of justice; and their representatives should be in our national councils; then we should see hope dawn in their bosoms, and ambition revive their energies.
One who had the means of making the estimate, and no motive for stating it incorrectly, says we have become possessed of all these fair domains at the paltry price of two cents and three quarters an acre! By robbery we have grown rich.
It was suggested in Congress, not long since, that “a person be employed to collect and arrange the treaties, and other authentic documents, tending to illustrate the history of the relinquishment of land titles by native Indian tribes, and to prepare such means of illustration as may be necessary for a full knowledge of the acquirement of the States of the title to their lands.” To which it was answered: “Let us do no such thing. Let us rather gather up and destroy—commit to the flames all that records the progress of our acquisitions. Leave only to tradition, or forget entirely, the infamy which we acquired with the titles we enjoy—for who can look unmoved upon the parchment that tells how many miles square were bought with a few strings of paltry beads—how the council fires that had burned for ages were put out, and the bands that gathered round them for ages were scattered—their birthrights, their wigwams, and their hunting grounds bartered away for a score of worthless [[295]]rifles, or a bundle of useless trinkets,—how we first debased, and then defrauded, the children of the forest out of all their hills and valleys, their lakes and rivers, over which are scattered the millions whose representatives are asked to perpetuate the records of wrongs inflicted by their ancestors. Doubtless there was necessity for the wrong—for the extermination of one race, for the increase of another. But there exists no necessity that we should make a parade of the means by which that extermination was effected. They may be forgiven; we may, at least, forget them.”[1]
It is too late to blot out these dark records; but it is not yet too late to prove that we
“Are wiser than our ‘Fathers’ were,
And better know the Lord.”
It is confidently predicted that we are on the verge of another Indian war, more terrible than our country ever experienced; and yet with our rich, powerful, and consolidated government, it is perfectly possible to prevent this war. The Indian of the West is the same as the Indian of the East; and it is a thousand times better to soften his heart by kindness than to pierce it by a bullet.
A traveller describes the following Sabbath morning scene, far beyond the confines of civilization, among the Chippewas, Menomonies, and Winnebagoes, where only the trader and the missionary had been.
“The dawn of this Sabbath morning was peculiarly beautiful; ‘rosy fingers’ did seem ‘to unbar the gates of light.’ Violet and purple with a wide and widening circle of ‘orient pearl,’ all met my eye with their charming and chastening influences—and then there was such silence! [[296]]Not a leaf rustled, and the waves broke in softer murmur on the shore. Yet, all this silence was broken in upon this morning—for, just between the time when the eastern sky was made mellow with the sun’s light, and the light began to tip the tops of tree and mountain, and all was so quiet, my ears were greeted by sweet sounds of music! They came from a lodge of Christian Indians, which was hard by in the woods. They had risen with the day ‘to worship God!’ They sang in three parts, base, tenor, and treble, and with a time so true, and with voices so sweet, as to add harmony even to nature itself. Notes of thrush and nightingale sound sweeter when poured forth amidst the grove; so sounded those of these forest warblers in the midst of the green foliage and in the stillness of the woods. I attended their worship, and was present with them again in the evening; and as I listened to their songs of praise, and their prayers, I felt humbled and ashamed of my country, in view of the wrongs it had inflicted, and still continues to inflict, upon these desolate and destitute children of the forest. There were flowers and gems there, which needed only to be cultivated and polished, to insure from the one the emission of as sweet odors as ever regaled the circles of the civilized; and from the other, a brilliance as dazzling as ever sparkled in the diadem of queenly beauty. And yet they were, and are, neglected, trodden down, and treated as outcasts!”
But no missionary society has the means of accomplishing the work of carrying the gospel and education, to such a multitude of roving people, over such a wide extent of country. This is the duty of the government, and if wisely planned, would not be so difficult of execution. It would not cost so much as a war, and would save us from the retribution which must certainly come upon those who make cruelty and treachery the purchase money with [[297]]which to gain territory, and enrich it with the blood of the innocent and helpless.
Extinction may be the doom of the Indian, but it does not require a prophet’s authority to enable us to say, “Woe unto those by whom this offence cometh.” [[298]]
[1] Daily Times, February 12th, 1855. [↑]
APPENDIX.
THE LANGUAGE OF THE IROQUOIS.
If the Indian should be entirely banished from our borders, the memory of him cannot die. For, as I have elsewhere quoted,
“Their names are on our waters,
We cannot wash them out.”
The dialects of the Six Nations bore a strong resemblance to each other, though there were still differences which marked them as distinct. Those who understood one were able to converse in each of the others, and in council the representatives of each nation had no difficulty in interpreting what was said by all. The Mohawk and Oneida strongly resembled each other, and the Seneca and Cayuga were the same. The Onondaga “was considered by the Iroquois as the most finished and majestic,” while to our ears it is the most harsh, and the Oneida the most musical.
They used nineteen letters, having no labials or liquids, except occasionally is heard among the Mohawks the sound of L and among the Tuscaroras the sound of F. The Senecas and Cayugas talk all day without shutting their lips, and there are no oaths in their language. Before an Indian can be profane he must learn French or English, and his language is so constructed too, that evasion is almost impossible. Metaphors are in constant requisition in Indian speeches and conversation. If one comes in when the weather is very cold, he says, “It is [[299]]a nose-cutting morning.” If he wishes to reflect upon a proposition before deciding, he says, “I will put the matter under my pillow, and let you know.” He says of an emaciated person, “He has dry bones.” A steamboat is called “The ship impelled by fire.” A horse is a “log carrier,” a cow a “cud chewer,” and a goat a “scented animal.”
In ancient times when the hunters encamped in the woods, they kept warm by covering themselves with boughs of hemlock, and now if an Indian is about to repair his cabin, he says, “I will surround it with hemlock boughs,” meaning I will make it warm and comfortable. When a chief has made a speech at the opening of a Council, he finishes with saying, “the doors are now open, you can proceed.” The messenger of the Six Nations to the Senecas was called “the man who carries the fire or smoke,” meaning that he had charge of the Council-fire and kept it bright.
The Iroquois call themselves the real people; and in speeches or conversation, if allusion is made to white people, they say invariably “our younger brethren.” The President of the United States is called “the city-eater,” and Washington, “the residence of the city-eater.”
The Iroquois had the masculine, and feminine, and neuter genders. The masculine and feminine were denoted, sometimes by giving the same animal different names, in the way we say buck and doe, and sometimes by prefixing words which signify male and female. All inanimate objects were placed in the neuter gender. They had not the indefinite article a or an, but used the, and the usual varieties of adjective and adverb. They abounded in interjections, but had no participles. As a substitute for the infinitive mood they used the word that. Instead of saying, “Direct He-mo to come and give us rain,” they said, “Direct that He-mo come and give us rain.”
They could count by one, two, three, nearly to a hundred, and used the numerals, firstly, secondly, thirdly, &c.
The following are specimens of names, with the Lord’s prayer and a hymn in Seneca. [[300]]
| O-hee-yu, | The beautiful river. |
| Os-we-go, | Flowing out. |
| On-yit-hah, | Bird of the strong wing. |
| Ga-no-so-te | A house. |
| O-on-do-te | A tree. |
| O-ya | Fruit. |
| Je-da-do | A bird. |
| O-ya-han | Apples split open. |
| Ga-no-geh | Oil on the water. |
| Ga-osé-ha | Baby frame. |
THE LORD’S PRAYER.
Gwä-nee′ gā̆-o-yä′-geh che-de-oh′; sä-sa-no-do′-geh-teek; gä-o′ ne-dwa na′ sa-nunk-tä; na-huk′ ne-yä-weh′ na yo-an′-jä-geh ha′-ne-sä-ne-go′-dā̆ ha ne-de-o′-dā̆ na′ gā̆-o-yä′-geh. Dun-dä-gwä-e′-wä-sā̆-gwus na′ ong-wi-wä-na-ark-seh′ na′ da-yä-ke′-wä-sā̆-gwä′-seh na′ onk-ke-wä-na′-ä-ge. Dä-ge-o′-na-geh′-wen-nis′-heh-da na′ ong-wä-quä′. Sā̆-nuk′ na-huh′ heh′-squä-ä ha′ gä-yeh na′ wä-ate-keh′ na-gwä′ na′ dä-gwä-yä-duh′-nuh-onk ha′ gä-yeh na′ wä-ate-keh′; na′ seh-eh′ na ese′ sä-wā̆ na′ o-nuk-ta′ kuh′ na′ gā̆-hus-ta-seh′ kuk′ na′ da-gä-ā̆-sä-uh′. Na-huh′-ne-yä-weh.[1] [[301]]
(Specimen of Indian Hymn.)