That there exists, in the moral or physical constitution of the Indians any insuperable obstacle to their civilization, no one will now seriously assert. That they will ever be generally civilized, those who know them intimately, and who have observed the prevailing tone of feeling of both races towards each other, will consider so extremely improbable that they will deem it scarce worth while to inquire what system of measures would be best calculated to effect this desirable object. Of what advantage could any degree of civilization have been to those unfortunate Seminoles, who were a few years since removed from their beautiful and fertile lands in Florida, to those deep and almost impassable swamps in the rear of Tampa Bay, where it has been found not only necessary to confine them by a military force, but to subsist them, from day to day, and from year to year, by regular issues of provisions? Need we give them education that they may be the better able to estimate our munificence and generosity in suffering them to roam at large, in cypress swamps, in sandy deserts, or wherever else we may think the soil of no value to us?
The project of congregating the Indians, from the extended portions of the United States, in some place not only west of the Mississippi, but westward of the arable lands of Missouri and Arkansaw, in those burning deserts which skirt the eastern base of the Rocky Mountains, is, perhaps, more pregnant with injustice and cruelty to these people than any other. Such is the inveterate and interminable hostility existing, time out of mind, between the people of different stocks, portions of which are already in too near vicinity, such as the Dahcotah and the Ojibbeways, the Osages and Cherokees, that nothing but mutual destruction could be the consequence of crowding them together into a region already more than filled with warlike and jealous hunters. The region to which Mr. McKoy, in his pamphlet, proposes to remove the Indians, would, such is its naked and inhospitable character, soon reduce civilized men who should be confined to it, to be barbarism; nothing but inevitable destruction could there await a congregation of fierce, subtle, and mutually hostile savages.
Of all plans hitherto devised to benefit the Indians, by far the best, though doubtless attended with great difficulty in the execution is, to let them alone. Were it possible to leave to them the small remnant they still hold of their former possessions, to remove from them all the poisoning influences of the fur trade and the military posts, and the agencies auxiliary to it, necessity might again make them industrious. Industry thoroughly re-established would bring in its train prosperity, virtue, and happiness. But since we cannot reasonably hope that this plan will ever be adopted, the friends of humanity must continue to wish that some middle course may be devised, which may, in a measure, palliate the misery which cannot be removed, and retard the destruction which cannot be prevented. The first labour of the philanthropist, who would exert himself in this cause, should be to allay or suppress that exterminating spirit so common among us which, kept alive by the exertions of unprincipled land jobbers, and worthless squatters, is now incessantly calling for the removal of the Indians west of the Mississippi. Many, and doubtless some of those who legislate, may consider the region west of the Mississippi as a kind of fairy land where men can feed on moonbeams, or, at all events, that the Indians, when thoroughly swept into that land of salt mountains and horned frogs, will be too remote to give us any more trouble. But suppose those who now so pertinaciously urge this measure completely successful, let every Indian be removed beyond the Mississippi, how soon will the phrase be changed, to west of the Rocky Mountains? We may send them into the sandy wastes, but cannot persuade them to remain there; they will soon become not less troublesome to the settlers in the countries of Red River, White River, and the Lower Arkansaw, than they are now to the people of Georgia, Alabama, Missouri, and Illinois. Is it absolutely necessary that while we invite to our shores, and to a participation in all the advantages of our boasted institutions, the dissatisfied and the needy of all foreign countries, not stopping to inquire whether their own crimes, or the influence of an oppressive government, may have made the change desirable for them, we should, at the same time, persist in the determination to root out the last remnants of a race who were the original proprietors of the soil, many of whom are better qualified to become useful citizens of our republic than those foreigners we are so eager to naturalize? It is certainly by no means desirable that any of the aboriginal tribes who have retained, or acquired, or who shall acquire so much of civilization as to be able to increase in numbers, and to gain strength, surrounded by the whites, should be suffered to establish independent governments, which may, in time, acquire such strength as to be highly troublesome to their neighbours. Could the project of colonization be carried into complete effect, the measure, leaving out of consideration its daring and flagrant injustice, would be of as questionable policy as our unavailing attempt to restore to Africa the descendants of her enslaved children. It is believed by many that national as well as individual crimes, are sure to be visited, sooner or later, by just and merited punishments. Is it not probable that despite the efforts of the Colonization Society, the African race, now so deeply rooted and so widely spread among us, must inevitably grow to such a magnitude as to requite, fourfold, to our descendants, our own and our forefathers crimes against the aborigines?
The past history and the present condition of the Indians make it abundantly manifest that, if anything is intended on the part of the United States, except their speedy and utter extinction, an immediate change of measures is loudly called for. The most important particulars of the course to be pursued should be the prevention, as far as possible, of the evils resulting from competition; the introduction of whiskey, and other existing abuses in the fur trade; the encouragement of agriculture and domestic industry which may at length render them independent of that trade. Donations of horses, cattle, tools, and farming utensils, handsome clothes, neat and tasteful ornaments, bestowed as marks of honourable distinction, and rewards for successful and persevering industry, may by degrees, overcome the habitual indolence and contempt of labour, so generally met with among the Indians. With the efforts for the promotion of industry, the cultivation of the mind, not in one out of ten thousand, as at present, but in the whole mass of the children; and the introduction of the English language should keep equal pace. No effort should be spared to advance either. We deem it important that they should not only learn the English language, but, at the same time, lay aside and forget their own, and with it their entire system of traditional feelings and opinions on all subjects. Could all this be effected; could, furthermore, the rights and privileges of citizenship be held out as a reward for a prescribed course of conduct, or attach as a right to the possession of a certain amount of property, the effect would doubtless be a great and rapid elevation of the Indian character. By a system of measures of this kind, a portion of the remnants of these people might probably be preserved by becoming embodied with the whites. As separate and independent tribes, retaining their own languages, manners, and opinions, it is probable they cannot long continue in existence.
TANNER’S NARRATIVE.
CHAPTER I.
Recollections of early life—capture—journey from the mouth of the Miami to Sa-gui-na—ceremonies of adoption into the family of my foster parents—harsh treatment—transferred by purchase to the family of Net-no-kwa—removal to Lake Michigan.
The earliest event of my life, which I distinctly remember, is the death of my mother. This happened when I was two years old, and many of the attending circumstances made so deep an impression, that they are still fresh in my memory. I cannot recollect the name of the settlement at which we lived, but I have since learned it was on the Kentucky River, at a considerable distance from the Ohio.