INTRODUCTION.
Why should this book be written? To give information. But was it proper to come through such hands, and to be communicated in such circumstances?
As to the first of these questions, the Author happened to have in his possession a portfolio of incidents and observations, recorded by his own hand, during a tour through the wild and romantic regions of the American Lakes, and a visit among several tribes of Indians in the North-West Territory, in 1830. It happened also, that this visit in the North-West gave him an opportunity of being present at a great and eventful Council, composed of representatives of the chiefs of several Indian nations and a Commission from the Government of the United States, the developements of which were somewhat extraordinary and extremely interesting. The second ACT of this Council and its concluding scenes, viewed dramatically, were opened at the city of Washington, in the following winter; of which also the Author was a spectator, and in which were exhibited the entire scope of Indian affairs in America, displaying very conspicuously and impressively their more recent enactments. The interest of these events chained the Author’s attention, excited his sympathies for the ancient race of American Aborigines, and induced him to avail himself of all possible means of becoming acquainted with the history of their wrongs. His opportunities were abundant. He had never meditated, however, any public use of the observations he had made and of the information he had been able to collect, until a year after his arrival in England; when it was suggested to him, in conversation with some friends, that the materials in his possession were in many respects novel and interesting; and some motives were presented for embodying them in a form to be submitted to the public eye.
But the difficult question was:—What the form should be? The maxim of Byron: “Truth is strange, stranger than fiction”—was perhaps never more applicable, than to the principal subject of these pages. The history of the American Indians is the Romance of Fact. It needs not a single dash of the pencil—not a single ingredient of the sentimentality of poetry, to give it life and power over the feelings. The naked truth has in it more of poetry and a more energetic challenge on the affections, than any possible embellishment, or fictitious garniture, that could be thrown around it—more than any creations of fancy, with which it could be charged. Show that race, as they are and have been, and none of human kind can fail to be interested in them.
But there were many reasons, notwithstanding, why, if the Author consented to make any public use of the facts in his possession, he should embody them under a mixed garb of romance and history. And he actually proceeded so far, as to execute one volume under this plan. But after submitting it to other minds, a grave discussion arose, and it was earnestly insisted:—that it should be properly fiction, or sober history;—and it was agreed, that the facts were abundantly sufficient to demand the last, and that no fictitious dress could equal the interest of the exact truth.
Having resolved upon the historical course exclusively, the delicate situation of the Author, as an American, came next to be considered. It was impossible for him to do justice to this subject, as it stood before his mind and rested upon his own feelings, without entering somewhat largely into the discussion of the recent policy of his own Government towards the Indians. To suppress the detail, would dilute the whole into insipidity; to give it, would necessarily involve more or less of disclosure.
The principal considerations, which settled the Author’s purpose, in regard to the course he has pursued, are here submitted:—
1. The fate of the American Indians, whether they shall exist or be annihilated, has come to a crisis.
2. Their rights are properly the cause of humanity, and though well defined in the conscience of the world, are yet undefined and unsettled in the fact and operation of their social and political relations; and these rights can only be fixed by a thorough public discussion before the world, which will claim to be arbiter in the case, and which alone, as a community of nations, is likely to be a fair court of appeal. The question of their rights is so prominent and interesting, that the world will sit in judgment upon it; and the sooner their opinion is formed and expressed, the better. That judgment can hardly be wrong; and it must also be respected and influential, if it comes in season. Indeed, the very anticipation of it, may possibly answer all the purpose.