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.