Near Carondalet we visited two slave-holders, who employed slaves in agriculture; which practice experience has shewn in every instance to be unprofitable. One had thirteen; and yet every thing about his house rather indicated poverty than affluence. These slaves lived in a hut, among the outhouses, about twelve feet square—men, women, and children; and in every respect were fully as miserable and degraded in condition as the unfortunate wretches who reside in the lanes and alleys of St. Giles' and Spitalfields, with this exception, that they were well fed. The other slave-holder, brother of the former, lived much in the same manner;—but it is necessary to observe that both these persons were hunters, and that hunters have nothing good in their houses but dogs and venison.
T—— having gone on a hunting excursion with our host, and some of his friends, B—— and I drove the ladies to the plantation of the latter gentleman. He had a farm on the bluffs, which was broken and irregular, as is always the case in those situations. Large holes, called "sink-holes," are numerous along these banks; the shape of them is precisely that of an inverted cone, through the apex of which the water sinks, and works its way into the river. Cedar trees grow on the rocks, and the scenery is in many places extremely grand. Wild-geese congregate in multitudes on the islands in the Mississippi, and at night send forth the most wild and piercing cries.
Our hostess was one of those sylvan Amazons who could handle any thing, from the hunting-knife to the ponderous axe; and she dressed in the true sylph-like costume of the backwoods. Her robe, which appeared to be the only garment with which she encumbered herself, fitted her, as they say at sea, "like a purser's shirt on a handspike," and looked for all the world like an inverted sack, with appropriate apertures cut for head and arms; she wore shoes, in compliment to her guests—her hair hung about her shoulders in true Indian style; and altogether she was a genuine sample of backwoods' civilization. We were placed in a good bed—the state-bed of course—and as we lay, paid our devotions to Urania, and contemplated the beauties of the starry firmament, through an aperture in the roof which would have admitted a jackass.
The proprietor assured us that his slaves produced him no more than the bare interest of the money invested in their purchase, and that he was a slave-holder not from choice, but because it was the prevailing practice of the country. He said he had two handsome Mulatto girls hired out at the barracks for six dollars per month each.
In St. Louis there were seven Indian chiefs, hostages from the Ioway nation. Their features were handsome—with one exception, they had all aquiline noses—they were tall and finely proportioned, and altogether as fine-looking fellows as I ever saw. The colour of these Indians was much redder than that of any others I had seen; their heads were shaven, with the exception of a small stripe, extending from the centre of the crown back to the organ of philoprogenitiveness—the gallant scalping-lock—which was decorated with feathers so as somewhat to resemble the crest of a Greek or Roman helmet. Their bodies were uncovered from the waist upwards, except when they wore blankets, a modern substitute for the buffalo-robe, which they commonly wore over the left shoulder, leaving the right arm and breast bare. The Ioways are a nation dwelling in the Missouri territory, and these hostages delivered themselves up pending the investigation of an affray that had taken place between their people and the backwoodsmen.
The day previous to our departure from St. Louis, the investigation took place in the Museum, which is also the office of Indian affairs. There were upwards of twenty Indians present, including the hostages. The charge made against these unfortunate people and on which they had been obliged to come six or seven hundred miles, to stand their trial before white judges, was, "that the Ioways had come down on the white territory—killed the cattle, and attacked the settlers, by which attack four citizens lost their lives." The principal chief implicated in the affair, named "Big-neck," was called upon for his defence. In the person of this man there was nothing remarkable. He advanced into the centre of the room, and disengaging his right arm from the blanket, shook hands with the judges, and then, in succession, with all the officers of the court. This ceremony being ended, he paused, and drawing himself up to his full height, extended his arm forward towards the judge, and inclining his head a little in the same direction, said, "If I had done that of which my white brother accuses me, I would not stand here now. The words of my red-headed father (General Clarke) have passed through both my ears, and I have remembered them. I am accused, and I am not guilty." (The interpreter translated each sentence as it was delivered, and gave it as nearly verbatim as possible—observe, the pronoun I is here used figuratively, for his party, and for the tribe). "I thought I would come down to see my red-headed father, to hold a talk with him.—I come across the line (boundary)—I see the cattle of my white brother dead—I see the Sauk kill them in great numbers—I said that there would be trouble—I turn to go to my village—I find I have no provisions—I say, let us go down to our white brother, and trade our powder and shot for a little—I do so, and again turn upon my tracks, until I reach my village."—He here paused, and looking sternly down the room, to where two Sauks sat, pointed his finger at them and said, "The Sauk, who always tells lie of me, goes to my white brother and says—the Ioway has killed your cattle. When the lie (the Sauk) had talked thus to my white brother, he comes, thirty, up to my village—we hear our brother is coming—we are glad, and leave our cabins to tell him he is welcome—but while I shake hands with my white brother," he said, pointing to his forehead, "my white brother shoots me through the head—my best chief—three of my young men, a squaw and his[[6]] child. We come from our huts unarmed—even without our blankets—and yet, while I shake hands with my white brother, he shoots me down—my best chief. My young men within, hear me shot—they rush out—they fire on my white brother—he falls, four—my people fly to the woods without their rifles." He then stated that four more Indians died in the forest of cold and starvation, fearing to return to their villages, and being without either blankets or guns. At length returning, and finding that their "great chiefs" had delivered themselves up, he came to stand his trial.
The next person called was an old chief, named "Pumpkin," who corroborated the testimony of "Big-Neck," but had not been with the party when the Sauks were seen killing the cattle. When he came to that part of the story where the Indian comes from his wig-wam to meet the white man, he said, nearly in the same words used by Big-neck, "While I shake hands with my white brother, my white brother shoots me down—my best chief"—he here paused, and lifting his eyes above the heads of the auditors, his lip curling a little, but resuming again, almost immediately, its natural position, he pronounced in a low but distinct guttural tone, the Indian word meaning "my son." His eye seemed fixed for a few seconds, and then, as if conscious of his weakness, and that the eyes of the great warriors of his tribe were upon him, he looked slowly round in a kind of solemn triumph, and resumed his tale. There was a strong feeling excited in the court by the misfortune of this old man, for the "best chief" of the Ioways was his only son. The court asked the chiefs what they thought should be done in the matter? They spoke a few words to each other, and then answered promptly, that all they required was, that their white brother should be brought down also, and confronted with them. The prisoners were set at liberty on their parole.
Nothing could have been more respectable than the silence and gravity of the Indians during the investigation. The hostages particularly, were really imposing in their appearance; an air of solemnity overspread their manly countenances, whilst their eyes bespoke that unquailing spirit which the habits and vicissitudes of a sylvan life are calculated rather to raise than depress. The Indians, when uncontaminated by the vices of the whites, are really a fine people; and it is melancholy to reflect that in a few centuries the red-man will be known only by name, for his total extinction seems almost inevitable.