But the crowning distinction for which Dorminghurst shall be known, was the reverence in which its master was held by the red men of the forest. Keen in the detection and appreciation of true manhood, the native instincts of the Indian shunned the commercialism of the grasping English office-holder; but the pure and simple line of conduct of the scholar and philosopher commanded the respect and esteem of those children of nature—the Indians. Deputations of the fierce Iroquois and the Shawnees and the Susquehannas travelled far and long to listen to the counsel and wisdom of the distinguished sage and philosopher of Dorminghurst. The Indians learned to trust his word and advice so well that his estate became, at length, the Mecca for an annual gathering of his forest friends, and the permanent abode of a few of the descendants of Altamaha.
CHAPTER XV
Many times the long avenue of hemlocks was honored by the gathering of the tribes of red men at Dorminghurst.
Before entering the city for their business with the Governor and Council at Philadelphia, the Indians invariably camped on the estate of the big white chief, James Greydon, as a mark of respect to their friend. Usually the exchange of courtesies could best be accomplished by preparing a feast for the assembled tribesmen.
On the day set apart for the feast, the tribesmen approached the mansion through the avenue of hemlocks. They were clothed in their best buckskin leggings, skin robes and moccasins, and bedecked with plumage and trinkets. No arms or tomahawks were carried, because the Indians respected the Quakers’ dislike of war. They seated themselves in respectful silence on each side of the avenue under the spreading trees, while the servants were busied covering the white tables with dozens of roasted turkeys, ducks, chickens, saddles of venison,—roasted before an open fire,—roasts of beef, pyramids of doughnuts and apples, great pies and cakes, and then light bread cut into slices. All this provision met the eyes of the hungry savage, as he sat smoking his kin-ni-kin-nick.
An occasional grunt of satisfaction issued out of the shade of the hemlocks, whenever a chief, between puffs at his pipe, assented to the monosyllables of the others. The groups were picturesque, seated and grouped around the trees of the spacious lawn. Dignity, becoming a noble race, was written in the lofty mien and countenance of every face. If ever Indians were happy, they were, in partaking of the generous hospitality of this noble Quaker, who was the successor of their great father, William Penn.
The importance of a tribal feast to the Colonists, in 1732, had much weight with the principal men of the State. The distinguished men of the province travelled long distances to be present at these gatherings given by the master of Dorminghurst.
The feast began when the Secretary led out of his mansion an assemblage of gay ladies and gentlemen. James Greydon led them down the wide avenue of hemlocks, bowing and smiling to the natives. They all proceeded to a lofty and spreading oak, accompanied by the great Chief, Altamaha. When the ladies were seated and the gentlemen grouped about, the Chief of the Onondagas, Altamaha, stepped forward and gave a short command. At once the whole body of Indians came forward and squatted on the ground in the form of a half-moon, facing the white people. The chiefs formed a group distinct from the other tribesmen within the circle facing James Greydon.