History of the Indians, of North and South America

by Samuel G. Goodrich

The question, then, as to the possibility of civilizing the Indians within our borders, seems, at first view, to be favorably determined. The subject is one of deep interest, and claims the attention of enlightened minds throughout our republic. Our ancestors have inflicted fearful wrongs upon this race; for centuries, their blood has cried to heaven for vengeance. Nor is our own generation free from similar guilt, or similar accountability. But besides the deep debt thus incurred, and which, in this age of light, we should be earnest to discharge in behalf of the remnants of these people, their numbers are still considerable, and, from their own importance in this point of view, they may well claim the attention of the philanthropist.

And there is still another aspect in which this subject becomes one of deep interest. The tribes within the Indian Territory can now muster fifty thousand warriors. They have a fine country, and, in the aggregate, possess a considerable amount of property. Stretching along our defenceless western frontier, they may render themselves indeed formidable, whenever they choose to combine against us. They have horses in abundance, and can transfer themselves, with the fleetness of the Arab, from one point to another. They have fire-arms, in addition to the spear, the bow and arrow, and the tomahawk. They have, contiguous to them, the Camanches on the south, and numerous other tribes on the north and west. These can easily be made their allies, in case of need.

The position of these tribes is, therefore, one of great strength. Let us now consider that their minds must be full of bitter remembrances towards our people. The story of Philip, Sassacus, and Logan may not have descended in their traditions to the present day, but the general story of their race is familiar to them all. When Keokuck replied to Governor Everett in the State-house in Boston, in 1837, he said he had been told by the old men of his tribe, that the ancestors of the Indians once owned and occupied the lands to the shores of the Atlantic. It must be a familiar fact to the Indians, from the Mississippi to the borders of the Pacific, that they were lords of this continent, and that the white man has dispossessed them of their inheritance. They must not only know this general truth, but they must also know and deeply feel the violence and injustice of that process by which their nations have been wasted, and the inheritance, which God, and nature, and their ancestors had bequeathed to them, was wrenched from their hands.

The particular experience of many of them must also contribute to increase their store of bitter recollections. The fate of Tecumseh is familiar to many of them, for those still live who fought by his side. The story of the Everglades, and the doom of Osceola, must be often repeated by those who participated in the scenes of the late Florida war. The bloodhounds, imported from Cuba to hunt them down in the thickets, will be introduced to give effective coloring to the picture of suffering, to embitter the feeling of indignation, and, if need be, to rouse the soul to acts of retribution.

While, therefore, the tribes are now placed by treaty within the Indian territory, and are adopting, by degrees, the arts of civilization, under the auspices of the United States, it must be remembered that they are there not willingly, and that they have carried with them the long accumulated remembrances of their painful history.

“I yield,” said Weatherford to General Jackson, “by necessity, not by choice. My warriors are dead; my people slain; it is vain to resist; but if I had an army, I would still be in the field against you.” It is with such a feeling that many of the tribes have retired to their present abodes; and can we doubt that there is many a daring and independent soul among them, that would rejoice in the opportunity to balance the heavy reckoning which stands summed up in their minds against us?

It has often happened that the wrath of man has been made to work out the will of Providence. Who can tell that the time is not yet to come, in which these Indian tribes shall wreak signal vengeance upon us, and furnish another lesson to the world, in assurance of the fact, that, in the history of nations, great crimes are usually followed, sooner or later, by adequate retribution? It seems evident that this concentration of the Indian tribes in the West must issue in great events,—either in their civilization, and their final accession, as citizens, to our republic, or in future struggles, in which their power will be made the instrument of chastising our country for its former course of injustice.

In this case, there is but one line of conduct for us to pursue, and that is alike dictated by policy and right feeling. Let us do all in our power to bestow upon these three hundred thousand Indians the benefits of our own religion and civilization, and prepare them, as speedily as may be, to come within the fold of our own government, as members of the Union. Let us do this in atonement for former aggression, as a measure of future safety, and as the obvious dictate of common philanthropy.

Let us not permit the common suggestion, that the Indian is incapable of receiving the benefits of civilization, to hinder us from adopting this course. Upon what basis does this idea of Indian character rest? Upon no better foundation, we apprehend, than prejudice,—and a prejudice, too, inculcated, if not engendered, by the desire of finding apologies for the harsh and desolating policy which has been pursued toward the race. The Indians are incorrigible,—therefore let them be swept away. This is the ready logic of those who wish to possess their lands, or who desire to excuse acts of plunder and aggression.

Let us not adopt conclusions too hastily in this important matter. If, hitherto, many of the efforts to civilize the Indians have failed, we must not thence infer that they have a nature which excludes them for ever from the fold of civilization. May there not be some defect in the means, some error in the mode, adopted to instruct them? and cannot we better account for failure in this way, than by resorting to a supposition which seems to impugn the wisdom and benevolence of the Creator?