THE CHIEF’S ANSWER:
“I’ll tell you, brother. I have been looking at your beautiful city—the great water—your fine country—and see how happy you all are. And then I thought:—this was ours. My ancestors lived here. They enjoyed this ground in peace, as their own. It was the gift of the Great Spirit to them and their children. At last the white people came here in a great canoe. They asked only, that we would let them tie it to a tree, lest the waters should carry it away. We said:—Yes. They then said, that some of their people were sick, and asked, if they might bring them ashore, and put them under the shade of the trees? We said:—Yes. Then the winter and ice came; and they asked leave to build wigwams, and live in them, for the winter. We said:—Yes. Then they asked for corn to keep them from starving; and we gave it them. But we said: You must go away, when the winter is gone. And they said:—Yes. But when the spring came, and we told them: “You must go;”—they pointed us to their big guns, which were planted round their wigwams, and said:—“No—we will stay.” And we could not drive them away. Afterwards more came. They brought strong water, and gave it to the Indians for land. At last they drove us back, far from the water, and the fish, and the oysters, into the woods. They destroyed our game;—and our people have wasted away. And see! how you grow up in their place! This makes me sorry, brother; and I cannot help it.”—Star in the West.
Speech of Cornplanter to General Washington, in 1790.
“Father, When your army entered the country of the six nations, we called you the town-destroyer; and to this day, when your name is heard, our women look behind them, and turn pale; and our children cling close to the necks of their mothers. But our counsellors and warriors, being men, cannot be afraid. But their hearts are grieved by the fears of our women and children; and desire, that the tomahawk may be buried so deep, as to be heard of no more. Father, we will not conceal from you, that the Great Spirit, and not man, has preserved Cornplanter from the hands of his own nation. For they ask continually, where is the land, on which our children and their children are to lie down upon? You told us, say they, that a line, drawn from Pennsylvania to Lake Ontario, would mark it for ever on the east; and a line, running from Beaver Creek to Pennsylvania, would mark it on the west. But we see, that it is not so. For first one, then another comes and takes it away by order of that people; who, you told us, promised to secure it to us for ever. Cornplanter is silent (to them), for he has nothing to answer. When the sun goes down, Cornplanter opens his heart before the Great Spirit; and earlier than the sun appears again upon the hills, he gives thanks for his protection during the night; for he feels, that while in the midst of men, who have become desperate by the injuries they have sustained, it is God only that can preserve him. Cornplanter loves peace. All he had in store, he has given to those, who have been robbed by your people; lest they should plunder the innocent to repay themselves.
“The whole season, which others have employed in providing for their families, Cornplanter has spent in endeavours to preserve peace. And at this moment his wife and children are lying on the ground, and in want of food. His heart is in pain for them. But he perceives, that the Great Spirit will try his firmness in doing what is right.
“Father! Innocent men of our nation are killed, one after another, though of the best families; but none of your people, who have committed these murders, have been punished. We recollect, that you did promise to punish those who should kill our people. And we ask:—was it the intention, that your people should kill the Senecas, and not only remain unpunished, but be protected from the next of kin? Father; these, to us, are great things. We know, that you are very strong. We have heard, that you are wise. But we shall wait to hear your answer to this, that we may know, that you are just.”
Speech of a Pawnee Chief to Mr. Monroe, President of the United States, delivered at Washington.
“My great Father. I have travelled a great distance to see you. I have seen you, and my heart rejoices. I have heard your words. They have entered one ear, and shall not go out at the other. And I will carry them to my people, as pure as they came from your mouth.
“My great Father. I am going to speak the truth. The Great Spirit looks down upon us, and I call him to witness all that may pass between us on this occasion. If I am here now, and have seen your people, your houses, your vessels on the big lake, and a great many wonderful things far beyond my comprehension, which appear to have been made by the Great Spirit, and placed in your hands;—I am indebted to my father here,[16] who invited me from home, under whose wings I have been protected. Yes, my great Father, I have travelled with your chief. I have followed him; and trod in his tracks. But there is still another great Father, to whom I am much indebted—the Father of us all:—He, who made us, and placed us on this earth. I feel grateful to the Great Spirit, for strengthening my heart for such an undertaking, and for preserving the life, which he gave me. The Great Spirit made us all. He made my skin red, and yours white. He placed us on this earth, and intended, that we should live differently from each other. He made the whites to cultivate the earth, and feed on tame animals; but he made us red skins to rove through the wild woods and plains, to feed on wild animals, and to dress in their skins. He also intended, that we should go to war to take scalps, steal horses, and triumph over our enemies;—to cultivate peace at home, and promote the happiness of each other. I believe there are no people of any colour, on this earth, who do not believe in the Great Spirit—and in rewards and punishments. We worship him; but not as you do. We differ from you in appearance and in manners, as well as in our customs; and we differ from you in our religion. We have no large houses, as you have, to worship the Great Spirit in. If we had them to-day, we should want them to-morrow; for we have not, like you, a fixed habitation. We have no settled home, except our villages, where we remain but two moons in twelve. We, like brutes, rove through the country; while you, whites, reside between us and heaven. But still, my great Father, we love the Great Spirit; we acknowledge his supreme power; our peace, our health, and our happiness depend upon him; and our lives belong to him. He made us, and he can destroy us.
“My great Father. I will not tell a lie. I am going to tell the truth. You love your country; you love your people; you love the manner, in which they live; and you think your people brave. I am like you, my great Father:—I love my country; I love my people; I love the manner, in which they live; and think myself and warriors brave. Spare me, then, my Father. Let me enjoy my country, pursue the buffalo, and the beaver, and the other wild animals of our wilderness; and I will trade the skins with your people. I have grown up and lived thus long without work. I am in hopes you will suffer me to die without it. We have yet plenty of buffalo, beaver, deer, and other wild animals; we have also an abundance of horses. We have every thing we want. We have plenty of land—if you will keep your people off of it. Let me continue to live, as I have done—until I shall have passed to the Good, or Evil Spirit, from the wilderness of my present life.
“There was a time, when we did not know the whites. Our wants were fewer then, than they are now. They were always within control. We had then seen nothing, which we could not get. But since our intercourse with the whites, who have caused such a destruction of our game, our situation is changed. We could lie down to sleep, and when we awoke, we could find the buffalo, feeding around our camp. But now we are killing them for their skins, and feeding the wolves with their flesh, to make our children cry over their bones.
“Here, my great Father, is a pipe, which I present you, (handing it to the president) as I am accustomed to present pipes to all red skins in peace with us. It is filled with such tobacco, as we smoked before we knew the white people. I know, that the buffalo robes, leggins, (gaiters) moccasins, bears’ claws, &c. are of little value to you;—but we wish to have them deposited and preserved in some conspicuous place in your lodge; so that when we are gone, and the sod turned over our bones, if our children should visit this place, as we do now, they may see and recognize with pleasure the deposits of their fathers, and reflect on the times that are past.”
Anecdote of a Pawnee Brave.[17]
“The facts in the following anecdote of a Pawnee Brave, son of Old Knife, one of the delegation, who visited Washington in 1821-22, highly creditable to his courage, his generosity, and his humanity, were taken, by permission, from a very interesting manuscript Journal of Captain Bell, of his expedition with Major Long, to the foot of the Rocky Mountains, in 1821, and are sanctioned by Major O’Fallon, Indian agent, near the scene of the transaction here related; and also by the interpreter, who witnessed the scene.
“This Brave, or warrior, of fine size, figure, and countenance, is now (1822) about twenty-five years old. At the age of twenty-one, his heroic deeds had acquired for him in his nation, the rank of “the bravest of the Braves.” The savage practice of torturing and burning to death their prisoners, existed in this nation. An unfortunate female, taken in war, of the Paduca nation, was destined to this horrible death. The fatal hour had arrived. The trembling victim, far from her home and her friends, was fastened to the stake. The whole tribe was assembled on the surrounding plain to witness the awful scene. Just when the funeral pile was to be kindled, and the whole multitude of spectators were on the tiptoe of expectation, this young warrior, having unnoticed prepared two fleet horses, with the necessary provisions, sprang from his seat, rushed through the crowd, liberated the victim, seized her in his arms, placed her on one of the horses, and mounting the other himself, he made the utmost speed towards the nation and friends of the captive. The multitude, dumb and nerveless with amazement at the daring deed, made no effort to rescue their victim from her deliverer. They viewed it as the immediate act of the Great Spirit, submitted to it without a murmur, and quietly retired to their village. The released captive was accompanied three days through the wilderness towards her home. He then gave her the horse, on which she rode, with the necessary provisions for the remainder of their journey, and they parted. On his return to the village, such was his popularity, no inquiry was made into his conduct, no censure was passed upon it. And since this transaction, no human sacrifice has been offered in this, or in any other of the Pawnee tribes. The practice is abandoned. Of what influence is one bold act in a good cause!
“The publication of this anecdote at Washington, led the young ladies of Miss White’s seminary in that city, in a manner highly creditable to their good sense and good feeling, to present this Brave and humane Indian, with a handsome silver medal, with appropriate inscriptions, as a token of their commendation of the noble act of rescuing one of their sex, an innocent victim, from a cruel death. Their address to the chief closes, as follows:—
“Brother, Accept this token of our esteem;—always wear it for our sakes;—and when again you have the power to save a poor woman from death and torture, think of this, and of us, and fly to her relief and rescue.”