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Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre filmds d des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est filmd A partir de Tangle supdrieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m6thode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 8 6 / CHAPTERS FROM PARKMAN^S WORKS INTRODUCTORY ESSAY BY JOHN FISKE. HUGENOTS IN FLORIDA-EARr.v Spanish Adventurb. NOTRE DAME DES ANGES. CAVELIER DE LA SALLE. LATOUR AND D'AUXAY. COUNT AND COUNTESS FRONTENAC. EVE OF V\^AR. THE COMBATANTS. INDIAN TRIBES EAST OF THE MISSISSIPPI THE OREGON TRAIL -The Frontier. Coronto : GEORGE N. MORANG. 1899. f 5 0^-7 V2i 176694 >4w ' , * 4. f fV,n Parliament ot Canada, in the year one Entered accordlno: to the Act of the Parhamcnt o mokano. at tbe thousand eight hundred and n..ety-n.ne. bv GEQROr IN Department o* Agric-dt u iv. >^w INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. In the summer of 1865 I had occasion almost daily to pass by the pleasant windows of Little, Brown, and Co., in Boston, and it was not an easy thing to do without stopping for a moment to look in upon their ample treasures. Among the freshest novelties there displayed were to be seen Lord Derby's translation of the Iliad Forsyth's Life of Cicero, Colonel Higginson's Epictetus, a new edition of Edmund Burke's writings, and the tasteful reprint of Fronde's History of England, just in from the Riverside Press. One day, in the midst of such time-hon- ored classics and new books on well-worn themes, there appeared a stranger that claimed attention' and aroused curiosity. It was a modest crown octavo clad in sombre garb and bearing the title, "Pioneers of France in the New World." The author's name was not familiar to me, but xu INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. presently I remembered having seen it upon a stouter volume labelled "The Conspiracy of Pontiac," oi which many copies used to stand in a row far back in the inner and dusky regions of the shop. This older book I had once taken down from its shelf, just to quiet a lazy doubt as to whether Pontiac might be the name of a man or a place. Had that conspiracy been an event in Merovingian Gaul or in Borgia's Italy, I should have felt a twinge of conscience at not knowing about it; but the deeds of feathered and painted red men on the Great Lakes and the Alleghanies, only a century old, seemed remote and trivial. Indeed, with the old-fashioned study of the humanities, which tended to keep the Mediterranean too exclusively in the centre of one's field of vision, it was not always easy to get one's historical perspective correctly adjusted. Scenes and events that come within the direct line of our spiritual ancestry, which until yes- terday was all in the Old World, thus become unduly magnified, so as to deaden oui- sense of the interest and importance of the things that have happened since our forefathers went forth from their homesteads to grapple with the terrors of an outlying wilderness. We find no difficulty in realizing the historic significance of INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. • • • xiu Marathon and Chalons, of the barons at Runny- mede or Luther at Wittenberg; and scarcely a hill or a meadow in the Roman's Europe but blooms for us with flowers of romance. Litera- ture and philosophy, art and song, have ex- pended their richest treasures in adding to the witchery of Old World spots and Old World themes. But as we learn to broaden our horizon, the perspective becomes somewhat shifted. It be- gins to dawn upon us that in New World events there is a rare and potent fascination. Not only is there the interest of their present importance, which nobody would be likely to deny, but there is the charm of a historic past as full of romance as any chapter whatever in the annals of man- kind. The Alleghanies as well as the Apennines have looked down upon great causes lost and won, and the Mohawk valley is classic ground no less than the banks of the Rhine. To appreciate these things thirty years ago required the vision of a master in the field of history ; and when I carried home and read the " Pioneers of France," I saw at once that in Francis Parkman we had found such a master. The reading of the book was for me, as doubtless for many others, a pio- neer experience in this New World. It was a XIV INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. delightful experience, repeated and prolonged for many a year as those glorious volumes came one after another from the press until the story of the struggle between France and England for the possession of North America was at last com- pleted. It was an experience of which the full significance required study in many and appar- ently diverse fields to realize. By step after step one would alight upon new ways of regarding America and its place in universal history. First and most obvious, plainly visible from the threshold of the subject, was its extreme picturesqueness. It is a widespread notion that American history is commonplace and dull ; and as for the American red man, he is often thought to be finally disposed of when we have stigma- tized him as a bloodthirsty demon and grovelling beast. It is safe to say that those who enter- tain such notions have never read Mr. Park- man. In the theme which occupied him his poet's eye saw nothing that was dull or common- place. To bring him vividly before us, I will quote his own words from one of the introduc- tory pages of his opening volume: — " The French dominion is a memory of the past; and when we evoke its departed shades, they rise upon us from their graves in strange INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XV romantic guise. Again their ghostly camp-fires seem to burn, and the fitful light is cast around on lord and vassal and black-robed priest, min- gled with wild forms of savage warriors, knit in close fellowship on the same stern errand. A boundless vision grows upon us : an untamed con- tinent ; vast wastes of forest verdure; mountains silent in primeval sleep ; river, lake, and glim- mering pool ; wilderness oceans mingling with the sky. Such was the domain which France conquered for civilization. Plumed helmets gleamed in the shade of its forests, priestly vestments in its dens and fastnesses of ancient barbarism. Men steeped in antique learning, pale with the close breath of the cloister, here spent the noon and evening of their lives, ruled savage hordes with a mild parental sway, and stood serene before the direst shapes of death. Men of courtly nurture, heirs to the polish of a far-reaching ancestry, here w^th their dauntless hardihood put to shame the boldest sons of toil." When a writer in sentences that are mere gen- eralizations gives us such pictures as these, one has much to expect from his detailed narrative glowing with sympathy and crowded with inci- dent. In Parkman's books such expectations are never disappointed. What was an imcouth XVI INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. and bowling wilderness in the world of literature he has taken for his own domain and peopled it forever with living figures dainty and winsome, or grim and terrible, or sprightly and gay. Never shall be forgotten the beautiful earnest- ness, the devout serenity, the blithe courage of Champlain ; never can we forget the saintly Marie de Tlncarnation, the delicate and long- suffering Lalemant, the lion-like Brebeuf, the chivalrous Maisonneuve, the grim and wily Pon- tiac, or that man against whom fate sickened of contending, the mighty and masterful La Salle. These, with many a comrade and foe, have now their place in literature as permanent and sure as Tancred or Saint Boniface, as the Cid or Kob- ert Bruce. As the wand of Scott revealed un- suspected depths of human interest in Border castle and Highland glen, so it seems that North America was but awaiting the magician's touch that should invest its rivers and hillsides with memories of great days gone by. Parkman's sweep has been a wide one, and many are the spots that his wand has touched, from the cliffs of the Saguenay to the Texas coast, and from Acadia to the western slopes of the Rocky Mountains. I do not forget that earlier writers than Park- ■fj INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. xvii man had felt something of the pictiiresqueness and the elements of dramatic force in the history of the conquest of our continent. In particular the characteristics of the red men and the inci- dents of forest life had long ago been made the theme of novels and poems, such as they were ; I wonder how many people of to-day remember even the names of such books as " Yonnondio " or " Kabaosa." All such work was thrown into the shade by that of Fenimore Cooper, whose genius, tL i^h limited, was undeniable. But when we mention Cooper we are brought at once by cont' r st to thr secret of Parkman's power. It has long b. en recognized that Cooper's Indians are more or less unreal ; just such creatures never existed anywhere. When Corneille and Racine put ancient Greeks or Romans on the stage they dressed them in velvet and gold-lace, flowing wigs, and high buckled shoes, and made them talk like Louis XIV.'s courtiers ; in seventeenth- century dramatists the historical sense was lack- ing. In the next age it was not much better. When Rousseau had occasion to philosophize about men in a state of nature he invented the Noble Savage, an insufferable creature whom any real savage would justly loathe and despise. The noble savage has figured extensively in modem XVIU INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 'H^ literature, and has left his mark upon Cooper's pleasant pages, as well as upon many a chapter of serious history. But you cannot introduce unreal Indians as factors in the development of a narrative without throwing a shimmer of un- reality about the whole story. It is like bring- ing in ghosts or goblins among live men and women: it instantly converts sober narrative into fairy tale ; the two worlds will no more mix than oil and water. The ancient and mediaeval minds did not find it so, as the numberless his- tories encumbered with the supernatural testify ; but the modern mind does find it so. The mod- ern mind has taken a little draught, the prelude to deeper draughts, at the healing and purifying well of science ; and it has began to be dissatis- fied with anything short of exact truth. When any unsound element enters into a narrative, the taint is quickly tasted and its flavor spoils the whole. We are then brought, I say, to the secret of Parkman's power. His Indians are true to the life. In his pages Pontiac is a man of warm flesh and blood, as much so as Montcalm or Israel Putnam. This solid reality in the Indians makes the whole work real and convincing. Here is the great contrast between Parkman's work and INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XIX that of Prescott, in so far as the latter dealt with American themes. In reading Prescott's account of the conquest of Mexico one feels oneself in the world of the " Arabian Nights ; " indeed, the au- thor himself in occasional comments lets us see that he is unable to get rid of just such a feeling. His story moves on in a region that is unreal to him, and therefore tantalizing to the reader; his Montezuma is a personality like none that ever existed beneath the moon. This is because Pres- cott simply followed his Spanish authorities not only in their statements of physical fact, but in their inevitable misconceptions of the strange Aztec society which they encountered ; the Aztecs in his story are unreal, and this false note vitiates it all. In his Peruvian story Prescott followed safer leaders in Garcilasso de la Vega and Cieza de Leon, and made a much truer picture ; but he lacked the ethnological knowledge needful for coming into touch with that ancient society, and one often feels this as the weak spot in a narra- tive of marvellous power and beauty. Now it was Parkman's good fortune at an early age to realize that in order to do his work it was first of all necessary to know the Indian by personal fellowship and contact. It was also his good fortune that the right sort of Indians XX INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. \'.i> M ,1 i:T were still accessible. What would not Prescott have given, what would not any student of human evolution give, for a chance to pass a week or even a day in such a community as the Tlascala of Xicotencatl or the Mexico of Monte- zuma! That phase of social development has long since disappeared. But fifty years ago on our great western plains and among the Rocky Mountains there still prevailed a state of society essentially similar to that which greeted the eyes of Champlain upon the Saint Lawrence and of John Smith upon the Chickahominy. In those days the Oregon Trail had changed but little since the memorable journey of Lewis and Clark in the beginning of the present century. In 1846, two years after taking his bachelor degree at Harvard, young Parkman had a taste of the excitements of savage life in that primeval wil- derness. He was accompanied by his kinsman, Mr. Quincy Shaw. They joined a roving tribe of Sioux Indians, at a time when to do such a thing was to take their lives in their hands, and they spent a wild summer among the Black Hills of Dakota and in the vast moorland solitudes through which the Platte River winds its inter- minable length. In the chase and in the wig- wam, in watching the sorcery of which their re- INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XXI ligion chiefly consisted, or in listening to primi- tive folk-tales by the evening camp-fire, Mr. Parkman learned to understand the red man, to interpret his motives and his moods. With his naturalist's keen and accurate eye and his quick poetic apprehension, that youthful experience formed a safe foundation for aU his future work. From that time forth he was fitted to absorb the records and memorials of the early explorers and to make their strange experiences his own. The next step was to gather these early rec- ords from government archives, and from libra- ries public and private, on both sides of the Atlantic, — a task, as Parkman himself called it, " abundantly irksome and laborious." It ex- tended over many years and involved several visits to Europe. It was performed with a thor- oughness approaching finality. Already in the preface to the " Pioneers " the author was able to say that he had gained access to all the published materials in existence. Of his research among manuscript sources, a notable monument exists in a cabinet now standing in the library of the Massachusetts Historical Society, containing nearly two hundred folio volumes of documents copied from the originals by expert copyists. Ability to incur heavy expense is, of course, a ZXll INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 1 1 prerequisite for all undertakings of this sort, and herein our historian was favored bv fortune. Against this chiefest among advantages were to be offset the hardships entailed by delicate health and inability to use the eyes for reading and writ- ing. Mr. Parkman always dictated instead of holding the pen, and his huge mass of documents had to be read aloud to him. The heroism shown year after year in contending with physical ail- ments was the index of a character fit to be mated, for its pertinacious courage, with the heroes that live in those shining pages. The progress in working up materials was slow and sure. " The Conspiracy of Pontiac," which forms the sequel and conclusion of Parkman's work, was first published in 1851, only five years after the summer spent with the Indians. Four- teen years then elapsed before the "Pioneers" made its appearance in Little, Brown, and Co.'s window; and then there were yet seven-and- twenty years more before the final volumes came out in 1892. Altogether about half a century was required for the building of this grand liter- ary monument. Nowhere can we find a better illustration of the French critic's definition of a great life, — a thought conceived in youth and realized in later years. INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XXUl This elaborateness of preparation had its share in producing the intense vividness of Mr. Park- man's descriptions. Profusion of detail makes them seem like the accounts of an eye-witness. The realism is so strong that the author seems to have come in person fresh from the scenes he describes, with the smoke of the battle hovering about him and its fierce light glowing in his eyes. Such realism is usually the prerogative of the novelist rather than of the historian, and in one of his prefaces Mr. Parkman recognizes that the reader may feel this and suspect him. " If at times," he says, " it may seem that range has been allowed to fancy, it is so in appearance only ; since the minutest details of narrative or description rest on authentic documents or on personal observation." ^ This kind of personal observation Mr. Park- man carried so far as to visit all the important localities, indeed well-nigh all the localities, that form the scenery of his story, and study them with the patience of a surveyor and the discern- ing eye of a landscape painter. His strong love of nature added keen zest to this sort of work. From boyhood he was a trapper and hunter ; in later years he became eminent as a horticulturist, * See page c. XXIV INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Yd originating new varieties of flowers. To sleep under the open sky was his delight. His books fairly reek with the fragrance of pine woods. I open one of them at random, and my eye falls upon such a sentence as this : " There is soft- ness in the mellow air, the warm sunshine, and the budding leaves of spring ; and in the forest flower, which, more delicate than the pampered offspring of gardens, lifts its tender head through the refuse and decay of the wilderness/' Look- ing at the context, I find that this sentence comes in a remarkable passage suggested by Col. Henry Bouquet's western expedition of 1764, when he compelled the Indians to set free so many French and English prisoners. Some of these captives were unwilling to leave the society of the red men ; some positively refused to accept the boon of what was called freedom. In this strange conduct, exclaims Parkman, there was no unaccountable perversity ; and he breaks out with two pages of noble dithyrambics in praise of sav- age life. " To him who has once tasted the reck- less independence, the haughty self-reliance, the sense of irresponsible freedom, which the forest life engenders, civilization thenceforth seems flat and stale. . . . The entrapped wanderer grows fierce and restless, and pants for breathing-room. INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XXV sleep 30oks Is. I falls \ soft- e, and forest npered irougli Look- ) comes y Col. 1764, free so ome of : society accept In this was no Dut with of sav- tie reck- ,nce, the He forest ems flat jr grows Dg-room. His path, it is true, was choked with difficulties, but his body and soul were hardened to meet them ; it was beset with dangers, but these were the very spice of his life, gladdening his heart with exulting self-confidence, and sending the blood through his veins with a livelier current. The wilderness, rough, harsh, and inexorable, has charms more potent in their seductive influence than all the lures of luxury and sloth. And often he on whom it has cast its magic finds no heart to dissolve the spell, and remains a wanderer and an Ishmaelite to the hour of his death." * No one can doubt that the man who could write like this had the kind of temperament that could look into the Indian's mind and portray him correctly. But for this inborn temperament all his microscopic industry would have availed him but little. To use his own words, " Faith- fulness to the truth of history involves far more than a research, however patient and scrupulous, into special facts. Such facts may be detailed with the most minute exactness, and yet the narrative, taken as a whole, may be unmeaning or untrue." These are golden words for the student of the historical art to ponder. To make a truthful record of a vanished age, patient ^ Pontiac, iii. chap, xxvii. XXVI INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. scholarship is needed, and something more. Into the making of a historian there should enter some- thing of the philosopher, something of the natu- ralist, something of the poet. In Parkman this rare union of qualities was realized in a greater degree than in any other American historian. In,deed, I doubt if the nineteenth century can show in any part of the world another historian quite his equal in respect of such a union. There is one thing which lends to Parkman's work a peculiar interest, and will be sure to make it grow in fame with the ages. Not only has he left the truthful record of a vanished age so complete and final that the work will never need to be done again, but if any one should in future attempt to do it again he can- not approach the task with quite such equipment as Parkman. In an important sense the age of Pontiac is far more remote from us than the age of Clovis or the age of Agamemnon. When barbaric society is overwhelmed by advancing waves of civilization, its vanishing is final ; the thread of tradition is cut off forever with the shears of Fate. Where are Montezuma's Aztecs ? Their physical offspring still dwell on the table- land of Mexico and their ancient speech is still heard in the streets, but that old society is as INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. xxvii extinct as the trilobites, and has to be painfully studied in fossil fragments of custom and tradi- tion. So with the red men of the North ; it is not true that they are dying out physically, as many people suppose, but their stage of society is fast disappearing, and soon it will have van- ished forever. Soon their race will be swal- lowed up and forgotten, just as we overlook and ignore to-day the existence of five thousand Iro- quois farmers in the State of New York. Now, the study of comparative ethnology has be(i;un to teach us that the red Indian is one of the most interesting of men. He represents a stage of evolution through which civilized men have once passed, — a stage far more ancient and primitive than that which is depicted in the Odyssey or in the Book of Genesis. When Champlain and Frontenac met the feathered chieftains of the St. Lawrence, they talked with men of the Stone Age face to face. Phases of life that had vanished from Europe long be- fore Rome was built survived in America long enough to be seen and studied by modern men. Behind Mr. Parkman's picturesqueness, there- fore, there lies a significance far more profound than one at first would suspect. He has por- trayed for us a wondrous and forever fascinating xxviii INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. V I 1 I ' i stage in the evolution of humanity. We may well thank Heaven for sending us such a scholar, such an artist, such a genius, before it was too late. As we look at the changes wrought in the last fifty years, we realize that already the oppor- tunities by which he profited in youth are in large measure lost. He came not a moment too soon to catch the fleeting light and fix it upon his immortal canvas. Thus Parkman is to be regarded as first of all the historian of Primitive Society. No other great historian has dealt intelligently and con- secutively with such phases of barbarism as he describes with such loving minuteness. To the older historians all races of men very far below the European grade of culture seemed alike ; all were ignorantly grouped together as " savages." Mr. Lewis Morgan first showed the wide diifer- ence between true savages, such as the Apaches and Bannocks on the one hand, and barbarians with developed village life like the Five Nations and the Cherokees. The latter tribes in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries exhibited social phenomena such as were probably wit- nessed about the shores of the Mediterranean some seven or eight thousand years earlier. If we carry our thoughts back to the time that saw ■m INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XXIX the building of the Great Pyramid, and imagine civilized Egypt looking northward and eastward upon tribes of white men with social and politi- cal ideas not much more advanced than those of Frontenac's red men, our picture will be in its most essential features a correct one. What would we not give for a historian who, with a pen like that of Herodotus, could bring before us the scenes of that primeval Greek world before the Cyclopean works at Tiryns were built, when the ancestors of Solon and Aristides did not yet dwell in neatly joinered houses and fasten their door-latches with a thong, when the sacred city- state was still unknown, and the countryman had not yet become a bucolic or " tender of cows," and butter and cheese were still in the future. No written records can ever take us back to that time in that place, for there, as everywhere in the eastern hemisphere, the art of writing came many years later than the domes- tication of animals and some ages later than the first building of towns. But in spite of the lack of written records, the comparative study of in- stitutions, especially comparative jurisprudence, throws back upon those prehistoric times a light that is often dim but sometimes wonderfully suggestive and instructive. It is a light that re- XXX INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. < I veals among primeval Greeks ideas and customs essentially similar to those of the Iroquois. It is a light that grows steadier and brighter as it leads us to the conclusion that five or six thou- sand years before Christ white men around the iEgean Sea had advanced about as far as the red men in the Mohawk valley two centuries ago. The one phase of this primitive society illuminates the other, though extreme caution is necessary in drawing our inferences. Now Park- man's minute and vivid description of primitive society among red men is full of lessons that may be applied with profit to the study of pre-classic antiquity in the Old World. No other historian has brought us into such close and familiar con- tact with human life in such ancient stages of its progress. In Parkman's great book we have a record of vanished conditions such as hardly exists anywhere else in all literature. I say his great book, using the singular num- ber, for with the exception of that breezy bit of autobiography, " The Oregon Trail," all Park- man's books are the closely related volumes of a single comprehensive work. From the adven- tures of " The Pioneers of France " a consecutive story is developed through " The Jesuits in North America " and " The Discovery of the Great INTRODUCTOKY ESSAY. XXXI West." In "The Old Reginie in Canada" it is continued with a masterly analytsis of French methods of colonization in this their greatest colony, and then from " Frontenac and Ne\v France under Louis XIV." we are led throuirh " A Ilalf-Century of Conflict " to the grand climax in the volumes on " Montcalm and Wolfe," after which " The Conspiracy of Pontiac" brings the long narrative to a noble and brilliant close. Tn the first volume we see the men of the Stone Age at that brief moment when they were dis- posed to adore the bearded new-comers as Chil- dren of the Sun ; in the last we read the bloody story of their last and most desperate, conceited effort to loosen the iron grasp with which these pale-faces had seized and were holding the conti- nent. It is a w^ell-rounded tale, and as complete as anything in real history, where completeness and finality are things unknown. Between the beginning and end of this well- rounded tale a mighty drama is wrought out in all its scenes. The struggle between France and England for the soil of North America was one of the great critical moments in the career of mankind, — no less important than the struggle between Greece and Persia, or between Rome and Carthage. Out of the long and complicated xxxu INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. I |,: I' ; interaction between Roman and Teutonic insti- tutions which made up the history of the Middle Ages, two strongly contrasted forms of political society had grown up and acquired aggressive strength when in the course of the sixteentli cen- tury a New World beyond the sea was laid open for colonization. The maritime nations of Europe were naturally the ones to be attracted to this new arena of enterprise ; and Spain, Portu- gal, France, England, and Holland each played its interesting and characteristic part. Spain at first claimed the whole, excepting only that Bra- zilian coast which Borgia's decree gave to Portu- gal. But Spain's methods, as well as her early failure of strength, prevented her from making good her claim. Spain's methods were limited to stepping into the place formerly occupied by the conquering races of half-civilized Indians. She made aboriginal tribes work for her, just as the Aztec Confederacy and the Inca dynasty had done. Where she was brought into direct con- tact with American barbarism without the inter- mediation of half-civilized native races, she made little or no headway. Her early failure of strength, on the other hand, was due to her total absorption in the fight against civil and religious liberty in Europe. The failure became apparent INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XXXlll as soon as the absorption had begun to be com- plete. Spain's last aggressive effort in the New World was the destruction of the little Hugue- not colony in Florida in 1565, and it is at that point that Parkman's great work appropriately begins. From that moment Spain simply beat her strength to pieces against the rocks of Netherland courage and resourcefulness. As for the Netherlands, their energies were so far ab- sorbed in taking over and managing the great Eastern empire of the Portuguese that their work in the New World was confined to seiz- ing upon the most imperial geographical posi- tion and planting a cosmopolitan colony there that in the absence of adequate support was sure to fall into the hands of one or the other of the competitors more actively engaged upon the scene. The two competitors thus more actively en- gaged were France and England, and from an early period it was felt between the two to be a combat in which no quarter was to be given or accepted. These two strongly contrasted forms of political society had each its distinct ideal, and that ideal was to be made to prevail, to the utter exclusion and destruction of the other. Probably the French perceived this somewhat -tT l< 1 •i'l I i XXXIV INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. earlier than the English; they felt it to be necessary to stamp out the English before the latter had more than realized the necessity of defending themselves against the French. For the type of political society represented by Louis XIV. was pre-eminently militant, as the English type was pre-eminently industrial. The aggressiveness of the former was more distinctly conscious of its own narrower aims, and was more deliberately set at work to attain them, while the English, on the other hand, rather drifted into a tremendous world-fight without distinct consciousness of the^^ purpose. Yet after the final issue had been j-.:ned, the refrain Carthago delenda est was heard from the English side, and it came fraught with impending doom from the lips of Pitt as in days of old from the lips of Cato. The French idea, had it prevailed in the strife, would not have been capable of building up a pacific union of partially independent states, covering this vast continent from ocean to ocean. Within that rigid and rigorous bureaucratic system, there was no room for ispontaneous individuality, no room for local self-government, and no chance for a flexible federalism to grow up. A well-known phrase INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XXXV of Louis XIV. was "'The state is myself." That phrase represented his ideal. It was approximately true in Old France, realized as far as sundry adverse conditions would allow. The Grand Monarch intended that in New France it should be absolutely true. Upon that fresh soil was to be built up a pure monarchy without concession to human weak- nesses and limitations. It was a pet s(;heme of Louis XIV., and never did a philanthropic world-mender contemplate his grotesque pha- lanstery or pantarchy with greater pleasure than this master of kingcraft looked forward to the construction of a perfect Christian state in America. The pages of our great historian are full of examples which prove that if the French idea failed of realization, and the state it founded was overwhelmed, it was not from any lack of lofty qualities in individual Frenchmen. In all the history of the American continent no names stand higher than some of the French names. For courage, for fortitude and high resolve, for sagacious leadership, statesmanlike wisdom, unswerving integrity, devoted loyalty, for all the qualities which make life heroic, we may learn lessons innumerable from the noble ,-r XXXVl INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 1 1' If ''I ■ !i I Frenchmen who throng in Mr. Parkman's pages. The difficulty was not in the individuals, but in the system ; not in the units, but in the way they were put together. For while it is true — though many people do not know it — that by no imaginable artifice can you make a society that is better than the human units you put into it, it is also true that nothing is easier than to make a society that is worse than its units. So it was with the colony of New France. Nowhere can we find a description of despotic government more careful and thoughtful, or more graphic and lifelike, than Parkman has given us in his volume on the Old Regime in Canada. Seldom, too, will one find a book fuller of political wisdom. The author never preaches like Carlyle, nor does he hurl huge generalizations at our heads like Buckle; he simply describes a state of society that has been. But I hardly need say that his description is not — like the Dryasdust descriptions we are sometimes asked to accept as history — a mere mass of pigments flung at random upon a can- vas. It is a picture painted with consummate art, and in this instance the art consists in so handling the relations of cause and effect as to «u INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XXXVll make them speak for themselves. These pages are alive with political philosophy, and teem with object lessons of extraordinary value. It would be hard to point to any book where His- tory more fully discharges her high function of gathering friendly lessons of caution from the errors of the past. Of all the societies that have been composed of European men, probably none was ever so despotically organized as New France, unless it may have been the later Byzantine Empire, which it resembled in the minuteness of elabo- rate supervision over all the pettiest details of life. In Canada the protective, paternal, social- istic, or nationalistic theory of government — it is the same old cloven hoof, under whatever spe- cious name you introduce it — was more fully car- ried into operation than in any other community known to history except ancient Peru. No room was left for individual initiative or enterprise. All undertakings were nationalized. Govern- ment looked after every man's interests in this world and the next, baptized and schooled him, married him and paid the bride's dowry, gave him a bounty with every child that was born to him, stocked his cupboard with garden seeds and compelled him to plant them, prescribed the III 'I':! i|; rj.; ., •y^ u i!| t If i ^i? xxxvm INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. size of his house and the mimber of horses and cattle he might keep, and the exact percentages of profit he might be allowed to make, and how his chimneys should be swept, an., how many servants he might employ, and what theological doctrines he might believe, and what sort of bread the bakers might bake, and where goods might be bought and how much might be paid for them ; and if in a society so well cared for it were possible to find indigent persons, such pau- pers were duly relieved, from a fund established by government. Unmitigated benevolence was the theory of Louis XIV.'s Canadian colony, and heartless political economy had no place there. Nor was there any room for free-thinkers ; when the King after 1685 sent out word that no mercy must be shown to heretics, the governor Denon- ville, with a pious ejaculation, replied that not so much as a single heretic could be found in all Canada. Such was the community whose career our historian has delineated with perfect soundness of judgment and wealth of knowledge. The fate of this nationalistic experiment, set on foot by one of the most absolute of monarchs and fostered by one of the most devoted and powerful of religious organizations, is traced to INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XXXIX the operation of causes inherent in its very na- ture. The hopeless paralysis, the woful corrup- tion, the intellectual and moral torpor resulting from the suppression of individualism, are viv- idly portrayed ; yet there is no discursive gen- eralizing, and from moment to moment the de- velopment of the story proceeds from within itself. It is the whole national life of New France that is displayed before us. Historians of ordinary calibre exhibit their subject in frag- ments, or they show us some phases of life and neglect others. Some have no eyes save for events that are startling, such as battles and sieges; or decorative, such as coronations and court-balls ; others give abundant details of man- ners and customs ; others have their attention absorbed by economics ; others again feel such interest in the history of ideas as to lose sight of mere material incidents. Parkman, on the other hand, conceives and presents his subject as a whole. He forgets nothing, overlooks nothing ; but whether it is a bloody battle, or a theological pamphlet, or an exploring journey through the forest, or a code for the discipline of nunneries, each event grows out of its context as a feature in the total development that is going on before our eyes. It is only the historian who is also in !!;r ' n I i Si H I; ' ■" f ■|l xl INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. philosopher and artist that can thus deal in block with the great and complex life of a whole society. The requisite combination is realized only in certain rare and high types of mind, and there has been no more brilliant illustration of it than Parkman's volumes afford. The struggle between the machine-like social- istic despotism of New France and the free and spontaneous political vitality of New England is one of the most instructive object-lessons with which the experience of mankind has furnished us. The depth of its significance is equalled by the vastness of its consequences. Never did Destiny preside over a more fateful contest ; for it de- termined which kind of political seed should be sown all over the widest and richest political garden-plot left untilled in the world. Free in- dustrial England pitted against despotic militant France for the possession of an ancient conti- nent reserved for this decisive struggle, and dragging into the conflict the belated barbarism of the Stone Age, — such is the wonderful theme which Parkman has treated. When the vividly contrasted modern ideas and personages are set off against the romantic though lurid back* ground of Indian lifoj the artistic effect becomes simply magnificent. Never has historian grap- (■■; i INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. xli pled with anotlier such epic theme save Avhen Herodotus told the story of Greece and Persia or when Gibbon's pages resounded with the .solemn tread of marshalled hosts through a thousand years of change. xHl INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. \u II. The story of Mr. Parkman's life can be briefly told. He was born in Boston, in what is now known as Allston Street, Sept. 16, 1823. His an- cestors had for several generations been honorably known in Massachusetts. His great-grandfather, Rev. Ebenezer Parkman, a graduate of Harvard in 1741, was minister of the Congregational church in Westborough for nearly sixty years ; he was a man of learning and eloquence, whose attention was not all given to Calvinistic theol- ogy, for he devoted much of it to the study of history. A son of this clergyman at the age of seventeen served as private in a Massachusetts regiment in that greatest of modern wars which was decided on the Heights of Abraham. How little did this gallant youth dream of the glory that was by and by to be shed on the scenes and characters passing before his eyes by the genius of one of his own race and name ! Another son of Ebenezer Parkman returned to Boston and be- came a successful merchant engaged in that for- >v INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. xliii eign trafiic which played so important and liber- ahzing a part in American life in the days before the Enemy of mankind had invented forty-per- cent tariffs. The home of this merchant, Samuel Parkman, on the corner of Green and Chardun streets, was long famous for its beautiful (lower- garden, indicating perhaps the kind of taste and skill so conspicuous afterwards in his grandson. In Samuel the clerical profession skipped one generation, to be taken up again by his son. Rev. Francis Parkman, a graduate of Harvard in 1807, and for many years after 1813 the emi- nent and beloved pastor of the New North Church. Dr. Parkman was noted for his public spirit and benevolence. Bishop Huntington, who knew him well, says of him : " Every aspect of suffering touched him tenderly. There was no hard spot in his breast. His house was the centre of countless mercies to various forms of want; and there w^ere few solicitors of alms, local or itinerant, and whether for private neces- sity or public benefactions, that his doors did not welcome and send awav satisfied. . . . For many years he was widely known and esteemed for his eflicient interest in some of our most con- spicuous and useful institutions of philanthropy. Among these may be especially mentioned the xliv INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. i, 't ^1* Massachusetts Bible Society, the Society for Propagating the Gospel, the Orphan Asylum, the Humane Society, the Medical Dispensary, the Society for the Relief of Aged and Destitute Clergymen, and the Congregational Charitable Society." lie also took an active interest in Harvard University, of which he was an over- seer. In 1820 he founded there the professor- ship of '' Pulpit Eloquence and the Pastoral Care," familiarly known as the Parkman Pro- fessorship. A pupil and friend of Channing, he was noted among Unitarians for a broadly tolerant disposition. His wealth of practical wisdom was enlivened by touches of mirth, so that it was said that you could not " meet Dr. Parkman in the street and stop a minute to exchange words with him without carrying away with you some phrase or turn of thought so exquisite in its mingled sagacity and humor that it touched the inmost sense of the ludi- crous, and made the heart smile as well as the lips." Such was the father of our historian. Mr. Parkman's mother was a descendant of Rev. Job a Cotton, one of the most eminent of the leaders in the great Puritan exodus of the seventeenth century. She was the daughter of Nathaniel Hall, of Medford, member of a family \\ I 1 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. xlv "which was reprosentod in the convention that framed the Constitution of Massachusetts in 1780. Caroline Hall was a lady of remark- able character, and many of her fine qualities were noticeable in her distinguished son. Of her the late Octavius Frothingham says : ^' Humility, charity, truthfulness, were her prime characteristics. Her conscience was firm and lofty, though never austere. She had a strong sense of right, coupled with perfect charity toward other people ; inflexible in prin- ciple, she was gentle in practice. Intellectually she could hardly be called brilliant or accom- plished, but she had a strong vein of commo;i- sense and practical wisdom, great penetration into character, and a good deal of quiet humor." Of her six children, the historian, Francis Parkman, was the eldest. As a boy his health was delicate. In a fragment of autobiography, written in the third person, he tells us that "his childhood was neither healthful nor buoyant," and " his boyhood, though for a time active, was not robust." There was a nervous irritability and impulsiveness which kept driving him into activity more intense than his physical strength was well able to bear. At the same time an xlvi INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. inborn instinct of self-control, accompanied, doubtless, by a refined unwillingness .to intrude his personal feelings upon the notice of other people, led him into such habits of self-repression that his friends sometimes felicitated him on ** having no nerves." There was something rudely stoical in his discipline. As he says: "It was impossible that conditions of the ner- vous system abnormal as his had been from infancy should be without their effects on the mind, and some of these were of a nature highly to exasperate him. Unconscious of their char- acter and origin, and ignorant that with time and confirmed health they would have disap- peared, he had no other thought than that of crushing them by force, and accordingly applied himself to the work. Hence resulted a state of mental tension, habitual for several years, and abundantly mischievous in its effects. With a mind overstrained and a body overtasked, he was burning his candle at both ends." The conditions which were provided for the sensitive and highly strung boy during a part of his childhood were surely very delightful, and there can be little doubt that they served to determine his career. His grandfather Hall's home in Medf ord. was situated on the border of J INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. xlvii Lhe of md to Ill's of the Middlesex Fells, a rough and rocky wood- land, four thousand acres in extent, as wild and savage in many places as any primeval forest. The place is within eight miles of Boston, and it may be doubted if anywhere else can be found another such magnificent piece of wilderness so^ near to a great city. It needs only a stray In- dian or two, with a few bears and wolves, to. bring back for us the days when Winthrop's- company landed on the shores of the neighbor- ing bay. In the heart of this shaggy woodland is Spot Pond, a lake of glorious beauty, with a surface of three hundred acres, and a homely name which it is to be hoped it may always, keep, — a name bestowed in the good old tiraea before the national vice of magniloquence had begun to deface our maps. Among the pleasure drives in the neighborhood of Boston, the drive around Spot Pond is perhaps foremost in beauty. A few fine houses have been built upon its bor- ders, and well-kept roads have given to some parts of the forest the aspect of a park, but the greater part of the territory is undisturbed and will probably remain so. Seventy years ago the pruning hand of civilization had scarcely touched it. To his grandfather's farm, on the outskirts of this enchanting spot, the boy Parkman was sent M xlviii INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. :,;i in his eighth year. There, he tells us, " 1 walked twice a day to a school of high but undeserved reputation, about a mile distant in the town of Medford. Here I learned very little, and spent the intervals of schooling more profitably in col- lecting eggs, insects, and reptiles, trapping squir- rels and woodchucks, and making persistent though rarely fortunate attempts to kill birds with arrows. After four years of this rustication I was brought back to Boston, when I was un- happily seized with a mania for experiments in chemistry, involving a lonely, confined, unwhole- some sort of life, baneful to body and mind." No doubt the experience of four years of plastic boyhood in Middlesex Fells gave to Parkman's mind the bent which directed him towards the his- tory of the wilderness. This fact he recognized of himself in after life, while he recalled those boyish days as the brightest in his memory. At the age of fifteen or so the retorts and crucibles were thrown away forever, and a reaction in favor of woodland life began ; " a fancy," he says, "which soon gained full control over the course of the literary pursuits to which he was also addicted." Here we come upon the first mention of the combination of interests which determined his career. A million boys '.I li'l \' !i INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. xlix might be turned loose in Middlesex Fells, one after another, there to roam in solitude until our globe should have entered upon a new geological period, and the chances are against any one of them becoming a great historian, or anything else above mediocrity. But in Park- man, as in all men of genius, the dominant motive-power was something within him, some- thing which science has not data enough to explain. The divine spark of genius is some- thing which we know only through the acts which it excites. In Parkman the strong literary instinct showed itself at Chauncy Hall School, where we find him at fourteen years of age eagerly and busily engaged in the study and practice of English composition. It was natural that tales of heroes should be especially charming at that time of life, and among Park- man's efforts were paraphrasing parts of the " iEneid," and turning into rhymed verse the scene of the tournament in "Ivanhoe." From the artificial stupidity which is too often super- induced in boys by their early schooling, he was saved by native genius and breezy wood- land life, and his progress was rapid. In 1840, having nearly completed his seventeenth year, he entered Harvard College. His reputation d I 1 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. ilic there for scholarship was good; but he was much luoro absorbed in his own pursuits than in the regular college studies. In the summer vacation of 1841, he made a rough journey of exploration in the woods of northern New Hampshire, accompanied by one classmate and a native guide, and there he had a taste of adven- ture slightly spiced with hardship. How much importance this ramble may have had, one cannot say, but he tells us that ^' be- fore the end of the Sophomore year my various schemes had crystallized into a plan of writing the story of what was then known as the ^ Old French War,' — that is, the war that ended in the conquest of Canada, — for here, as it seemed to me, the forest drama was more stirring, and the forest stage more thronged with appropriate actors than in any other passage of our history. It was not until some ye;irs later that I enlarged the plan to include the whole course of the ximerican conflict between France and England, or, in other words, the history of the American forest; for this was the light in which I regarded it. My theme fascinated me, and I was haunted with wilderness images day and night." The way in which true genius works could not he more happily described. Ik I I INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 11 When tlie great scheme first took shape in Mr. Parknian's mind, lie reckoned tliat it would take about twenty years to complete the task. How he entered upon it may best be told in his own words. " The time allowed was ample ; but here he fell into a fatal error, entering on this long pilgrimage with all the vehemence of one starting on a mile heat. His reliance, how- ever, was less on books than on such personal experience as should in some sense identify him with his theme. His natural inclinations urged him in the same direction, for his thoughts were always in the forest, whose features, not un- mixed with softer images, possessed his waking and sleeping dreams, filling him with vague cravings impossible to satisfy. As fond of hardships as he was vain of enduring them, cherishing a sovereign scorn for every physical weakness or defect, deceived moreover by a rapid development of frame and sinews which flattered him with the belief that discipline sufficiently unsparing would harden him into an athlete, he slighted the precautions of a more reasonable woodcraft, tired old foresters with long marches, stopped neither for heat nor rain, and slept on the earth without a blanket.'^ In other words, "a highly irritnble I -H i-.!A r* m INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. iif ■il r. ^1! i;:!!. .k ■M'l it:!!l M: organism spurred the writer to excess in a course which, with one of different tempera- ment, would have produced a free and hardy development of such faculties and forces as he possessed." Along with the irritable organism perhaps a heritage of fierce ancestral Puritanism may have prompted him to the stoical discipline which sought to ignore the just claims of the physical body. He tells us of his undoubting faith that " to tame the Devil, it is best to take him by the horns ; " but more mature ex- periences made him feel less sure "of the advantages of this method of dealing with that subtle personage." Under these conditions perhaps the college vacations which he spent in the woods of Canada and New England may have done more to ex- haust than to recruit his strength. In his junior year some physical injury, the nature of which does not seem to be known, caused it to be thought necessary to send him to Europe for his health. He went first to Gibraltar in a sailing ship, and a passage from his diary may serve to throw light upon the voyage and the man : " It was a noble sight when at intervals the sun broke out over the savage waves, changing their blackness to a rich blue almost as dark -, while INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. liii the foam that flew over it seemed like whirling snow wreaths on the mountain. ... As soon as it was daybreak I went on deck. Two or three sails were set. The vessel scouring along, lean- ing over so that her lee gunwale scooped up the water ; the water in a foam, and clouds of spray flying over us, frequently as high as the main yard. The spray w^as driven with such force that it pricked the cheek like needles. I stayed on deck two or three hours, when, being thoroughly salted, I went down, changed my clothes, and read * Don Quixote ' till Mr. Snow appeared at the door with *You are the man that wants to see a gale, are ye ? Now is your chance ; only just come up on deck.' Accord- ingly I went. The wind was yelling and howl- ing in the rigging in a fashion that reminded me of a storm in a Canadian forest. . . . The sail- ors clung, half-drowned, to whatever they could lay hold of, for the vessel was at times half in- verted, and tons of water washed from side to side of her deck." Mr. Parkman's route was from Gibraltar by way of Malta, to Sicily, where he travelled over the whole island, and thence to Naples, where he fell in with the great preacher, Theodore Parker. Together they climbed Vesuvius and peered into i ; : il Uv INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Jl I ^i| m I I i^;: :lil| its crater, and afterwards in and about Rome they renewed their comradeship. Here Mr. Parkman wished to spend a few weeks in a monastery, in order to study with his own eyes the priests and their way of life. More than once he met with a prompt and uncompromising refusal, but at length the coveted privilege was granted him ; and, curiously enough, it was by the strictest of all the monastic orders, the Passionists, brethren addicted to wearing hair shirts and scourging themselves without mercy. When these worthy monks learned that their visitor was not merely a Protestant but a Unitarian, their horror was intense; but they were ready for the occasion, poor souls ! and tried their best to convert him, thereby doubtless enhancing their value in the historian's eyes as living and breathing historic material. This visit was surely of inestimable service to the pen which was to be so largely occupied with the Jesuits and Franciscans of the New World. Mr. Parkman did not leave Rome until he had seen temples, churches, and catacombs, and had been presented to the Pope. He stopped at Florence, Bologna, Modena, Parma, and Milan, and admired the Lake of Como, to which, how- ever, he preferred the savage wildness of Lake INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Iv George. He saw something of Switzerland, went to Paris and London, and did a bit of sight-seeing in Edinburgh and its neighborhood. From Liverpool he sailed for America; and in spite of the time consumed in this trip we find him taking his degree at Cambridge, along with his class, in 1844. Probably his name stood high in the rank list, for he was at once elected a member of the Phi Beta Kappa Society. After this he entered the Law School, but stayed not long, for his life's work was already claiming him. Li his brief vacation journeys he had seen tiny remnants of wilderness here and there in Canada or in lonely corners of New England ; now he wished to see the wilderness itself in all its gloom and vastness, and to meet face to face with the dusky warriors of the Stone Age. At this end of the nineteenth century, as already observed, such a thing can no longer be done. Nowhere now, within the United States, does the primitive wilderness exist, save here and there in shreds and patches. In the middle of the century it covered the western half of the continent, and could be reached by a journey of sixteen or seventeen hundred miles, from Boston to the plains of Nebraska. Parkman had become an adept in woodcraft and a dead A] A] .,,1:1 i 1 r 3 n *i.^"i ■.[? !ii Ivi INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 'i* •5 'til! , * rll' h ' fei.i 1 . .I'i'iii ' '1i I m rJl! iilli k shot with the rifle, and could do such things with horses, tame or wild, as civilized people never see done except in a circus. There was little doubt as to his ability to win the respect of Indians by outshining them in such deeds as they could appreciate. Early in 1846 he started for the wilderness with Mr. Quincy Shaw. A passage from the preface to the fourth edition of " The Oregon Trail," published in 1872, will here be of interest : — " I remember as we rode by the foot of Pike's Peak, when for a fortnight we met no face of man, my companion remarked, in a tone any- thing but complacent, that a time would come when those plains would be a grazing country, the buffalo give place to tame cattle, houses be scattered along the water-courses, and wolves, bears, and Indians be numbered among the things that were. We condoled with each other on so melancholy a prospect, but with little thought what the future had in store. We knew that there was mo^e or less gold in the seams of those untrodden mountains ; but we did not foresee that it would build cities in the West, and plant hotels and gambling-houses among the haunts of the grizzly bear. We knew that a few fanatical outcasts were groping their INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ivii wa}' across the plains to seek an asylum from Geiilile persecution ; but we did not imagine that the polygamous hordes of Mormons would rear a swarming Jerusalem in the bosom of soli- tude itself. We knew that more and more, year after year, the trains of emigrant wagons would creep in slow procession towards barbarous Oregon or wild and distant California ; but we did not dream how Commerce and Gold would breed nations along the Pacific ; the disenchant- ing screech of the locomotive break the spell of weird, mysterious mountains ; woman's rights invade the fastnesses of the Arapahoes ; and despairing savagery, assailed in front and rear, veil its scalp-locks and feathers before trium- phant commonplace. We were no prophets to foresee all this ; and had we foreseen it, perhaps some perverse regret might have tempered the ardor of our rejoicing. "The wild tribe that defiled with me down the gorges of the Black Hills, with its paint and war-plumes, fluttering trophies and savage em- broidery, bows, arrows, lances, and shields, will never be seen again. Those who formed it have found bloody graves, «.;: l ghastlier burial in the maws of wolves. The Indian of to-day, armed with a revolver and crowned with an old hat, Ji n I > IK M> rt *M -1! : !| I Iri 'liil' i'! ftp H< |t|il ' ti m i Iviii INTRODUCTCIIY ESSAY. cased, possibly, in trousers, or miiflled in a tawdry shirt, is an Indian still, but an Iihlian shorn of the pictiiresqueness which was his most conspicuous merit. The mountain trapper is no more, and the grim romance of his wild, hard life is a memory of the past." Tliis first of Parkman's books ""he Oro2;on Trail," was published in 1847, as a series of articles in the " Knickerbocker Magazine." Its pages reveal such supreme courage, sucli phy- sical hardiness, such rapturous enjoyment of life, that one finds it hard to realize that even in setting out upon this bold expedition the writer was something of an invalid. A weak- ness of sight — whether caused by some direct injury, or a result of widespre nervous dis- turbance, is not quite clear — liau already be- come serious and somewhat alarming. On arriving at the Indian camp, near the Medicine Bow range of the Rocky Mountains, he was suf fering from a complication of disorders. " I was so reduced by illness," he says, "that I could seldom walk without reeling like a drunken man, and when I rose from my seat upon the ground the landscape suddenly grew dim before my eyes, the trees and lodges seemed to sway to and fro. and the prairie to rise and fall like the INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ux swells of the ocean. Such a state of things is not enviable anywhere. In a country whore a man's life may at any moment dupond on the strength of his arm, or it may be on the activity of his legs, it is more particularly inconvenient. Nor is sleeping on damp ground, with an occa- sional drenching from a shower, very beneficial in such cases. I sometimes suli'ered the ex- tremity of exhaustion, and was in a tolerably fair way of atoning ^or my lo\e oi the prairie by resting there forever. I tried repose and a very sparing diet. For a long time, with exem- plary patience, I lounged about the camp, or at the utmost staggered over to the Indian village, and walked faint and dizzy among the lodges. It would not do, and I bethought me of starva- tion. During five days I sustained life on one small biscuit a da3^ At the end of that time I was weaker than before, but the disorder seemed shaken in its stronghold, and very gradually I began to resume a less rigid diet." It did not seem prudent to Parkman to let the signs of physical ailment become conspicuous, " since in that case a horse, a rifle, a pair of pistols, and a red shirt might have offered temptations too strong for aboriginal virtue." Therefore, in order that his prestige with the red men might lit Ix INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. • I lt!i I! ' W i :■ i '- f lil ill Mr , ill! if iiil ji III! not suffer diminution, he would "hunt buffalo on horseback over a broken country, when with- out the tonic of the chase he could scarcely sit upright in the saddle." The maintenance of prestige was certainly desirable. The Ogillalah band of Sioux, among whom he found himself, were thorough savages. " Neither their manners nor their ideas were in the slightest degree modified by contact with civi- lization. They knew nothing of the power and real character of the white men, and their children would scream in terror when they saw me. Their religion, superstitions, and prejudices were the same handed down to them from immemorial time. They fought with the weapons that their fathers fought with, and wore the same garments of skins. They were living representatives of the Stone Age ; for though their lances and arrows were tipped w^ith iron procured from the traders, they still used the rude stone mallet of the prime- val world." These savages welcomed Parkman and one of his white guides with cordial hospi- tality, and they were entertained by the chieftain Big Crow, whose lodge in the evening presented a picturesque spectacle. " A score or more of Indians were seated around it in a circle, their dark, naked forms just visible by the dull light INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ixi Lin led of leii' of the smouldering fire in the middle. The pipe glowed brightly in tlie gloom as it passed from hand to hand. Then a squaw would drop a piece of buffalo-fat on the dull embers. In- stantlj' a bright flame would leap up, darting its light to the very apex of the tall conical structure, where the tops of the slender poles that supported the covering of hide were gath- ered together. It gilded the features of the Indians, as with animated gestures they sat around it, telling their endless stories of war and hunting, and displayed rude garments of skins that hung around the lodge ; the bow, quiver, and lance suspended over the resting- place of the chief, and the rifles and powder- horns of the two white guests. For a moment all would be bright as day; then the flames would die out; fitful flashes from the embers would illumine the lodge, and then leave it in darkness. Then the light would wholly fade, and the lodge and all w'ithin it be involved again in obscurity." From stories of war and the chase, the conversation was now and then diverted to philosophic themes. When Parkman asked what makes the thunder, various opinions were expressed; but one old wrinkled fellow, named Red Water, asseverated that he had If :i Ixii INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. li ■-41 : f 1.1 1 '!' '.:' ■■(' •it Ml J ii! ii I! -1 I !li! ^1 11 1 II J Mill always known what it was. "It was a great black bird ; and once he had seen it in a dream swooping down from the Black Hills, with its loud roaring wings ; and when it flapped them over a lake, they struck lightning from the water." Another old man said that the wicked thunder had killed his brother last summer, but doggedly refused to give any particulars. It was afterwards learned that this brother was member of a thund -fighting fraternity of priests or medicine-men. On the approach of a storm they would " take their bows and arrows, their magic drum, and a sort of whistle made out of the wing-bone of the war-eagle, and, thus equipped, run out and fire at the rising cloud, whooping, yelling, whistling, and beating their drum to frighten it down again. One afternoon a heavy black cloud was coming up, and they repaired to the top of a hill, where they brought all their magic artillery into play against it. But the undaunted thunder, refusing to be ter- rified, darted out a bright flash, which struck [the aforesaid brother] dead as he was in the very act of shaking his long iron-pointed lance against it. The rest scattered and ran yelling in an ecstasy of superstitious terror back to their lodges." INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ixiii One should read Mr. Parkman's detailed nar- rative of the strange life of these people, and the manner of his taking part in it ; how he called the villagers together and regaled them sumptu- ously with boiled dog, and made them a skilful speech, in which he quite satisfied them as to his reasons for coming to dwell among them ; how a warm friendship grew up between himself and the venerable Red Water, who was the custodian of an immense fund of folk-lore, but was apt to be :uperstitiously afraid of imparting any of it to strangers ; how war-parties were projected and abandoned, how buffalo and antelope were hunted, and how life was carried on in the dull intervals between such occupations. If one were to keep on quoting what is of especial interest in the book, one would have to quote the whole of it. But one characteristic portrait contains so much insight into Indian life that I cannot for- bear giving it. It is the sketch of the young fellow called the Hail-Storm, as Parkman found him one evening on the return from the chase, " his light graceful figure reclinhig on the ground in an easy attitude, while . . . near him lay the fresh skin of a female elk, which he had just killed among the mountains, only a mile or two from camp. No doubt the boy's heart was m ; (^^ ■■TT IW Ixiv INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. '1 ')':'• i V! ';' f i ": ■^ iii!:; 5 ^ ■it ■'■ i > 1 'i-i'' Mi! "i ;. tiCi.; t '3 1 |iii 'IHl^i \ ill ilii; elated with triumph, but he betrayed no sign of it. He even seemed totally unconscious of our approach, and his handsome face had all the tranquillity of Indian self-control, — a self-control which prevents the exhibition of emotion with- out restraining the emotion itself. It was about two months since I had known the Hail-Storm, and within that time his character had remark- ably developed. When I first saw him, he was just emerging from the habits and feelings of the boy into the ambition of the hunter and warrior. He had lately killed his first deer, and this had excited his aspirations for distinction. Since that time he had been continually in search for game, and no young hunter in the village had been so active or so fortunate as he. All this success had produced a marked change in his character. As I first remembered him he always shunned the society of the young squaws, and was extremely bashful and sheepish in their presence ; but now, in the confidence of his new reputation, he began to assume the airs and arts of a man of gallantry. He wore his red blanket dashingly over his left shoulder, painted his cheeks every day with vermilion, and hung pen- dants of shells in his ears. If I observed aright, he met with very good success in his new pur- ^ it!! I INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ixv suits ; still the Ilail-Storm had much to accom- plish before he attained the full standing of a warrior. Gallantly as he began to bear himself before the women and girls, he was still timid and abashed in the presence of the chiefs and old men ; for he had never yet killed a man, or stricken the dead body of an enemy in battle. I have no doubt that the handsome smooth-faced boy burned with desire to flesh his maiden scalp- ing-knife, and I would not have encamped alone with him witliout watching his movements with a suspicious eye." Mr. Parkman once told me that it was rare for a young brave to obtain full favor with the women without havino; at least one scalp to show ; and this fact was one of the secret sources of danger which the ordinary white visitor would never think of. Peril is also liable to lurk in allowing oneself to be placed in a ludicrous light among these people ; accordingly, whenever such occasions arose, Parkman knew enough to " maintain a rigid in- flexible countenance, and [thus] wholly escaped their sallies." He understood that his rifle and pistols were the only friends on whom he could invariably rely when alone among Indians. His own observation taught him " the extreme folly of confidence, and the utter impossibility of fore- iJl m [ >. W:l ^^m |i Ixvi INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 1 1 • 'I seeing to what sudden acts the strange unbridled impulses of an Indian may urge him. When among this people danger is never so near as when you are unprepared for it, never so remote as when you are armed and on the alert to meet it at any moment. Nothing offers so strong a temptation to their ferocious instincts as the appearance of timidity, weakness, or security." The immense importance of this sojourn in the wilderness, in its relation to Parkman's life- work, is obvious. Knowledge, intrepidity, and tact carried him through it unscathed, and good luck kept him clear of encounters with hostile Indians, in which these qualities might not have sufficed to avert destruction. It was rare good fortune that kept his party from meeting with an enemy during five months of travel through a dangerous region. Scarcely three weeks after he had reached the confines of civilization, the Pawnees and Comanches began a systematized series of hostilities, and " attacked . . . every party, large or small, that passed during the next six months." During this adventurous experience, says Parkman, "my business was observation, and I was willing to pay dearly for the opportunity of exercising it." A heavy price was exacted of INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ixvii him, not by red men, but by that " subtle person- age '* whom he had tried to take by the horns, and who seems to have resented such presump- tion. Towards the end of the journey Parkman found himself ill in much the same way as at the beginning, and craved medical advice. It was in mid Sopteniber, on a broad meadow in the wild valley of the Arkansas, where his party had fallen in with a huge Santa Fe caravan of white-topped wagons, with great droves of mules and horses; and we may let Parkman tell the story in his own words, in the last of our ex- tracts from his fascinating book. One of the guides had told him that in this caravan was a physician from St. Louis, by the name of Dobbs, of the very highest standing in his profession. "Without at all believing him, I resolved to consult this eminent practitioner. Walking over to the camp, I found him lying sound asleep under one of the wagons. He offered in his own person but indifferent evi- dence of his skill ; for it was five months since I had seen so cadaverous a face. His hat had fallen off, and his yellow hair was all in dis- order; one of his arms supplied the place of a pillow; his trousers were wrinkled halfway up to his knees, and he was covered with little bits i;.ii "^ Ixviii INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. j| ^lliii^l! of grass and straw upon which he had rolled in his uneasy slumber. A Mexican stood near, and I made him a sign to touch the doctor. Up sprang the learned Dobbs, and sitting upright rubbed his eyes and looked about him in bewilderment. I regretted the necessity of disturbing him, and said I had come to ask professional advice. " ' Your system, sir, is in a disordered state/ said he, solemnly, after a short examination. I inquired what might be the particular species of disorder. ' Evidently a morbid action of the liver,' replied the medical man; * I will give you a prescription.' " Repairing to the back of one of the covered wagons, he scrambled in ; for a moment I could see nothing of him but his boots. At length he produced a box which he had extracted from some dark recess within, and opening it pre- sented me with a folded paper. 'What is it/ said I. ' Calomel,' said the doctor. " Under the circumstances I would have taken almost anything. There was not enough to do me much harm, and it might possibly do good; so at camp that night I took the poison instead of supper." After the return from the wilderness Mr. INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ixix In Parkman found his physical condition rather worse than better. The trouble with the eyes continued, and we begin to find mention of a lameness which was sometimes serious enough to confine him to the house^ and which seems to have lasted a long time ; but from this he seems to have recovered. My personal acquaintance with him began in 1872, and I never noticed any symptoms of lameness, though I remember taking several pleasant walks with him. Per- haps the source of the lameness may be indi- cated in the following account of his condition in 1848, cited from the fragment of autobiogra- phy in which he uses the third person: " To the maladies of the prairie succeeded a suite of exhausting disorders, so reducing him that cir- culation of the extremities ceased, the light of the sun became insupportable, and a wild whirl possessed his brain, joined to a universal tur- moil of the nervous system which put his philosophy to the sharpest test it had hitherto known. All collapsed, in short, but the tena- cious strength of muscles hardened by long activity." In 1851, whether due or not to disordered circulation, there came an effusion of water on the left knee, w^hich for the next two years prevented walking. m :!;. 1 Ixz INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. (I n It was between 1848 and 1851 that Mr. Park- man was engaged in writing " The Conspiracy of Pontiac." He felt that no reginion could be wori-e for him than idleness, and that no tonic could be more bracing than work in pursuance of the lofty purpose which had now attained maturity in his mind. He had to contend with a " triple-hoaded monster": first, the weakness of the eyes, which had come to be such that he could not keep them open to the light while writing his own name ; secondly, the incapacity for sustained attention ; and thirdly, the indis- position to putting forth mental effort. Evi- dently the true name of this triple-headed mon- ster was nervous exhaustion ; there was too much soul for the body to which it was yoked. " To be made with impunity, the attempt must be made with the most watchful caution. He caused a wooden frame to be constructed of the size and shape of a sheet of letter-paper. Stout wires were fixed horizontally across it, half an inch apart, and a movable back of thick pasteboard fitted behind them. The paper for writing was placed between the pasteboard and the wires, guided by which, and ..sing a black lead crayon, he could Avrite not illegibly with closed eyes. He vr:.s at the time absent i INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ixxi £ If a from home, on Staten Island, where, and in the neighboring city of New York, he had friends who wilUngly offered their aid. It is needless to say to which half of humanity nearly all these kind assistants belonged. He chose for a be- ginning that part of the work which offered few- est difficulties and with the subject of which he was most familiar ; namely, the Siege of Detroit. The books and documents, already partially arranged, w^ere procured from Boston, and read to him at such times as he could listen to them, the length of each reading never without injury much exceeding half an hour, and periods of sev- eral days frequently occurring during which he could not listen at all. Notes were made by him with closed eyes, and afterwards deciphered and read to him till he had mastered them. For the first half-year the rate of composition averaged about six lines a day. The portion of the book thus composed was afterwards partially re- written. " His health improved under the process, and the remainder of the volume — in other words, nearly the whole of it — was composed in Bos- ton, while pacing in the twilight of a large gar- ret, the only exercise which the sensitive condi- tion of his sight permitted him in an unclouded Ixxii INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. '-^ i§ day while the sun was above the horizon. It was afterwards written down from dictation by relatives under the tame roof, to whom he was also indebted for the preparatory readings. His progress was much lefc?s tedious than at the out- set, and the history was complete in about two years and a half." The book composed under such formidable difficulties was published in 1851. It did not at once meet with the reception which it deserved. The reading public did not expect to find enter- tainment in American history. In the New England of those days the general reader had heard a good deal about the Pilgrim Fathers and Salem Witchcraft and remembered hazily the stories of Hannah Dustin and of Putnam and the wolf, but could not be counted on for much else before the Revolution. I remember once hearing it said that the story of the *' Old French War " was something of no more inter- est or value for Americans of to-day than the cuneiform records of an insurrection in ancient Nineveh ; and so slow are people in gaining a correct historical perspective that -^'ithin the last ten years the mighty wnj i struggle in which Pitt and Frederick wer lilied is t ated in a book entitled " Minor V\ ars of the United INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ixxiii States'*! In 1851 the soil was not yet ready for the seed sown by Parkman, and he did not quickly or suddenly become popular. But after the publication of the " Pioneers of France " in 1865 his fame grew rapidly. In those days I took especial pleasure in praising his books, from the feeling that they were not so generally known as they ought to be, particularly in Eng- land, where he has since come to be recognized as foremost among American writers of history. In 1879 I had been giving a course of lectures at University College, London, on " America's Place in History," and shortly afterwards re- peated this course at the little Hawthorne Hall, on Park Street, in Boston. One evening, having occasion to allude briefly to Pontiac and his con- spiracy, I said, among other things, that it was memorable as "" the theme of one of the most brilliant and fascinating books that has ever been written by any historian since the days of Herodotus." The words were scarcely out of my mouth when I happened to catch sight of Mr. Parkman in my audience. I had not ob- served him before, though he was seated quite near me. I shall never forget the sudden start which he gave, and the heightened color of his noble face, with its curious look of surprise and m ( I fr" iMMlMUill S&8DE9S Ixxiv INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. r 1^' 1. i pleasure, an expression as honest and simple as one might witness in a rather shy schoolboy suddenly singled out for praise. I was so glad that I had said what I did without thinking of his hearing me. In May, 1850, while at work upon this great book, Mr. Parkman married Catherine, daugh- ter of Jacob Bigelow, an eminent physician of Boston. Of this marriage there were three children, — a son, who died while an infant, and two daughters, who still survive. Mrs. Parkman died in 1858, and her husband neve:: married again. During these years, when his complicated ail- ments for a time made historical work impos- sible, even to this man of Titanic will, he assuaged his cravings for spiritual creation by writing a novel, "Vassall Morton." Of his books it is the only one that I have never seen, and I can speak of it only from hearsay. It is said to be not without signal merits, but it did not find a great many readers, and its author seems not to have cared much for it. The main current of his interest in life was too strong to allow of much diversion into side channels. "Meanwhile," to cite his owt? words, "the Faculty of Medicine were not idle, displaying INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ixxv that exuberance of resource for which that remarkable profession is justly famed. The wisest, indeed, did nothing, commending his patient to time and faith; but the activity of his brethren made full amends for this masterly inaction. One was for tonics, another for a diet of milk ; one counselled galvanism, another hydropathy; one scarred him behind the neck with nitric acid, another drew red-hot irons along his spine with a view of enlivening that organ. Opinion was divergent as practice. One assured him of recovery in six years; another thought that he would never recover. Another, with grave circumlocution, lest the patient should take fright, informed him that he was the victim of an organic disease of the brain which must needs despatch him to another world within a twelvemonth ; and he stood amazed at the smile of an auditor who neither cared for the announcement nor believed it. Another, an eminent physiologist of Paris, after an acquaintance of three months, one day told him that from the nature of the disorder he had at first supposed that it must, in accordance with precedent, be attended with insanity, and had ever since been studying him to discover under what form the supposed aberration de- i- 'a ;' ii:. t.}\ i msm Ixxvi TNTRODUCTORY ESSAY. II ': 1' ! , '.t clared itself, adding, with a somewhat humorous look, that his researches had not been rewarded with the smallest success." Soon after his marriiigc, Mr. Parkman became po sessur of a small estate of three acres or so •I Jamaica Plain, on the steep shore of the lutiful i)ond. It was a charming place, thor- • ghly English in its homelike simplicity and li'tiued comfort. The house stood near the entrance, and on not far from the same level as the roadway ; but from the side and rear the ground fell off rapidly, so that it was quite a sharp descent to the pretty little wharf or dock, where one might sit and gaze on the placid, dreamy water. It is with that lovely home that Mr. Parkman is chiefly associated in my mind. Twenty years ago, while I was acting as libra- rian at Harvard University, he was a member of the corporation, and I had frequent occasion to consult with him on matters of business. At such times I would drive over from Cambridge or take a street-car to Jamaica Plain, sure of a cordial greeting and a pleasant chat, in which business always received its full measure of justice, and was then thrust aside for more in- spiring themes. The memory of one day in particular will go with me through life, — an INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ixxvii enchanted (Lay in the season of apple-blossoms, when I went in the morning for a brief errand, taking with me one of my little sons. The brief errand ended in spending the whole day and staying until late in the evening, while the world of thoiijjjht was ransacked and some of its weightiest questions provisionally settled ! Nor was either greenhouse or garden or pond neglected. At such times there was nothing in Mr. Parkman's looks or manner to suggest the invalid. He and I were members of a small club of a dozen or more congenial spirits who now for nearly thirty years have met once a month to dine together. When he came to the dinner he was always one of the most charming companions at the table, but ill health often prevented his coming, and in the latter years of his life he never came. I knew nothing of the serious nature of his troubles ; and when I heard the cause of his absence alleged, I used to suppose that it was merely some need for taking care of digestion or avoiding late hours that kept him at home. What most impressed one, in talking with him, was the combination of power and alertness with extreme gentleness. Nervous irritability was the last thing of which I should have suspected him. He never made I -^i f'l ■e* Ixxviii INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. s^i the slightest allusion to his ill health ; he would probably have deemed it inconsistent with good breeding to intrude upon his friends with such topics ; and his appearance was always most cheerful. His friend (our common friend), the late Octavius Frothingham, says of him : " Again and again he had to restrain the impulse to say vehement things, or to do violent deeds without the least provocation; but he maintained so absolutely his moral self-control that none but the closest observer would notice any deviation from the most perfect calm and serenity." I can testify that until after Mr. Parkman's death I had never dreamed of the existence of any such deviation. Garden and greenhouse formed a very impor- tant part of the home by Jamaica Pond. Mr. Parkman's love for Nature was in no way more conspicuously shown than in his diligence and skill in cultivating flowers. It is often observed that plants will grow for some persons, but not for others; one man's conservatory will be heavy with verdure, gorgeous in its colors, and redolent of sweet odors, while his neigh- bor's can show nothing but a forlorn assem- blage of pots and sticks. The difference is due to the loving care which learns and humors INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ixxix the idiosyncrasies of each individual thing that grows; the keen observation of the naturalist supplemented by the watchful solicitude of the nurse. Among the indications of rare love and knowledge of Nature is marked success in in- ducing her to bring forth her most exquisite creations, the flowers. As an expert in horti- culture Mr. Parkman achieved celebrity. His garden and greenhouse had extraordinary things to show. As he pointed out to me on my firHt visit to them, he followed Darwinian methods and originated new varieties of plants. The Liliiim Parkmani has long been famous among florists. He was also eminent in the culture of roses, and author of a work entitled " The Book of Roses," which was published in 1866. He was President of the Horticultural Society, and at one time Professor of Horticulture in Har- vard University. There can be no doubt as to the beneficial effects of these pursuits. It is wholesome to be out of doors with spade and trowel and sprinkler; there is something tonic in the aroma of fresh damp loam ; and nothing is more ]:estful to the soul than daily sympa- thetic intercourse with flowering plants. It was surely here that Mr. Parkman found his best medicine. ii -f-^ mm mmi\»<§iiM 'f\ Im 1 I ' ' h ' ' 'I'- Ixxx INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. When he entered, in 1851, upon his great work on "France and England in the New World," he had before him the task " of tracing out, collecting, indexing, arranging, and digesting a great mass of incongruous material scattered on both sides of the Atlantic." A considerable portion of this material was in manuscript, and involved much tedious exploration and the em- ployment of trained copyists. It was necessary to study carefully the catalogues of many Euro- pean libraries, ard to open correspondence with such scholars and nublic officials in both hemi- spheres as might be able to point to the where- abouts of fresh sources of information. Work of this sort, as one bit of clew leads to another, is capable of arousing the emotion of pursuit to a very high degree ; and I believe the effect of it upon Mr. Parkman's health must have been good, in spite of, or rather because of, its diffi- culties. The chase was carried on until his manuscript treasures had been brought to an extraordinary degree of completeness. These made his library quite remarkable. In printed books it was far less rich. He had not the tastes of a bibliophile, and did not feel it neces- sary, as Freeman did, to own all the books he used. His library of printed books, which at his INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ixxxi death went to Harvard University, was a very small one for a scholar, — about twenty-five hun- dred volumes, including more or less of Greek and Latin literature and theology inherited from his father. His manuscripts, as I have already mentioned, went to the library of the Massa- chusetts Historical Society. When the manuscripts had come into his hands, an arduous labor was begun. All had to be read to him and taken in slowly, bit by bit. The incapacity to keep steadily at work made it impossible to employ regular assistants profit- ably ; and for readers he either depended upon members of his own family or called in pupils from the public schools. Once he speaks of hav- ing had a well-trained young man, who was an excellent linguist ; on another occasion it was a school-girl " ignorant of any tongue but her own," and " the effect, though highly amusing to bystanders, was far from being so to the per- son endeavoring to follow the meaning of this singular jargon." The larger part of the docu- ments used in preparing the earlier volumes were in seventeenth-century French, which, though far from being Old French, is enough unlike the nine- teenth-century speech to have troubled Mr. Park- man's readers and thus to have worried his ears. f 1:1 li .< it SSBB Ixxxii INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. b I ' ' 1' » . I ..i'l:! ( V';i;! .'1 '-,', As Mr. Frothingham describes his method, when the manuscripts were slowly read to him, " first the chief points were considered, then the details of the story were gone over carefully and minutely. As the reading went on he made notes, first of essential matters, then of non- essential. After this he wielded everything to- gether, made the narrative completely his own, infused into it his own fire, quickened it by his own imagination, and made it, as it were, a living experience, so that his books read like personal reminiscences. It was certainly a slow and painful process, but the result more than justi- fied the labor." In the fragment of autobiography already quoted, which Mr. Parkman left with Dr. Ellis in 1868, but which was apparently written in 1865, he says : " One year, four years, and numerous short intervals lasting from a day to a month, represent the literary interruptions since the work in hand was begun. Under the most favorable conditions, it was a slow and doubtful navigation, beset with reefs and breakers, demanding a constant lookout and a constant throwing of the lead. Of late years, however, the condition of the sight has so far improved as to permit reading, not exceeding INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ixxxiii on the average five minutes at one time. This modicum of power, thoiigli apparently trifling, proves of the greatest serv ice, since by a cautious management its application may be extended. By reading for one minute, and then resting for an equal time, this alternate process may gen- erally be continued for about half an hour. Then after a sufficient interval it may be repeated, often three or four times in the course of the day. By this means nearly the whole of the volume now offered [Pioneers] has been com- posed. . . . How far, by a process combining the slowness of the tortoise with the uncertainty of the hare, an undertaking of close and ex- tended research can be advanced, is a question to solve which there is no aid from precedent, since it does not appear that an attempt under similar circumstances has hitherto been made. The writer looks, however, for a fair degree of success." After 1865 the progress was certainly much more rapid than before. The next fourteen years witnessed the publication of " The Jesuits," "La Salle," "The Old Regime," and "Fron- tenac," and saw "Montcalm and Wolfe" well under way; while the "Half-Century of Con- flict" intervening between "Frontenac" and %: I " h > 'ii Ixxxiv INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. " Montcalm and Wolfe " was reserved until the last-mentioned work should be done, for the same reason that led Herbert Spencer to postpone the completing of his "Sociology" until he should have finished his " Principles of Ethics." In view of life's vicissitudes, it was prudent to make sure of the crowning work at all events, leaving some connecting links to be inserted afterwards. As one obstacle after another was surmounted, as one grand division of the work after another became an accomplished fact, the effect upon Mr. Parkman's condition must have been brac- ing, and he seems to have acquired fresh impetus as he approached the goal. For desultory work in the shape of magazine articles he had little leisure ; but two essays of his, on " The Failure of Universal Suffrage " and on " The Reasons against Woman Suffrage," are very thoughtful, and worthy of serious considera- tion. In questions of political philosophy, his conclusions, which were reached from a very wide and impartial survey of essential facts, always seemed to me of the highest value. When I look back upon Parkman's noble life, I think of Mendelssohn's chorus, "He that shall endure to the end," with its chaste and severely beautiful melody and the calm, INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. Ixxxv invincible faith which it expresses. After all the harrowing years of doubt and distress, the victory was such in its magnitude as has been granted to but few mortals to win. He lived to see his life's work done ; the thought of his eighteenth year was realized in his sixty-ninth ; and its greatness had come to be admitted throughout the civilized world. In September, 1893, his seventieth year was completed, and his autumn in the lovely home at Jamaica Plain was a pleasant one. On the first Sunday after- noon in November he rowed on the pond in his boat, but felt ill as he returned to the house, and on the next Wednesday, the eighth, he passed quietly away. Thus he departed from a world which will evermore be the richer and better for having once had him as its denizen. The memory of a life so strong and beautiful is a precious possession for us all. As for the book on which he labored with such marvellous heroism, a word may be said in conclusion. Great in his natural powers and great in the use he made of them, Parkman was no less great in his occasion and in his theme. Of all American historians he is the most deeply and peculiarly American, yet he is at the same time the broadest and most cosmo- ! i f n 1' Ixxxvi ' I INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. politan. The book which depicts at once the social life of the Stone Age, and the victory of the English political ideal over the ideal which France inherited from imperial Rome, is a book for all mankind and for all time. The more adequately men's historic pei'spective gets ad- justed, the grciiter will it seem. Strong in its individuality, and like to nothing else, it clearly belongs, I think, among the world's few master- pieces of the highest rank, along with the works of Herodotus, Thucydides, and Gibbon, JOHN FISKE. Cambridge, Mass., February 19, 18»7. be of cli Dk re ,d. its ■ly 3r- ks E. 1 ' • ( SECTIOIT FIRST. THE FEUDAL CHIEFS OF ACaDIA. CHAPTER I. 1497-1643. LA TOUR AND D'AUNAT. The Acadian Quarrel. — Bibncourt. — Claitob xkd Charles DB LA Touu. — Sir William Alexander. — Claude de Ra- ziLLT. — Charles de Menou d'Aunat Charnisay. — Cape Sable. — Port Royal. — The Heretics of Boston and Ply- mouth. — Madame de la Tour. — War and Litigation. — La Tour worsted: he asks Help from the Boston Puritans. With the opening of the seventeenth century began that contest for the ownership of North America which was to remain undecided for a century and a half. England claimed the continent through the discovery by the Cabots in 1497 and 1498, and France claimed it through the voyage of Verrazzano in 1524. Each resented the claim of the other; and each snatched such fragments of the -^"ize as she could reach, and kept them if she could. In 1604, Henry IV. of France gave to De Monts all America from the 40th to the 46th degree of north latitude, m m ■■I X.'M IP asaa BB p. Ij ;; 1 :■ 4 LA TOUR AND D'AUNAY. [1604-29 including the sites of Philadelphia on the one hand and Montreal on the other ; * while, eight years after, Louis XIII. gave to Madame de Guercheville and the Jesuits the whole continent from Florida to the St. Lawrence, — that is, the whole of the future British colonies. Again, in 1621, James I. of Eng- land made over a part of this generous domain to a subject of his own. Sir William Alexander, — to whom he gave, under the name of Nova Scotia, the peninsula which is now so called, together with a v\?-st adjacent wilderness, to be held forever as a fief of the Scottish Crown. ^ Sir William, not yet satis- fied, soon got an additional grant of the " River and Gulf of Canada," along with a belt of land three hundred miles wide, reaching across the continent. ^ Thus the King of France gave to Fn ncl men the sites of Boston, New York, and Wasan/gton, and the King of England gave to a Scotchman the sites of Quebec and Montreal. But while the seeds of international war were thus sown broadcast over the continent, an obscure corner of the vast regions in dispute became the scene of an intestine strife like the bloody conflicts of two feudal chiefs in the depths of the Middle Ages. After the lawless inroads of Argall, the French, with young Biencourt at their head, still kept a f:' ' \ 1 See " Pioneers of France in the New World," 247. * Charter of New Scotland in favour of Sir William Alexander. ' Charter of the Country and Lordship of Canada in America, 2 Feb., 1628-29, in Publications of the Prince Society, 1873. HIM 1629.] YOUNG LA TOUR. Kii Ich, t a •^eb., feeble hold on Acadia. After the death of his father, Poutrincourt, Biencourt took his name, by wliiclj thenceforth he is usually known. In his flistrcss ho lived much like an Indian, roaming the woo("!s willi a few followers, and subsisting on fish, game, loois, and lichens. He seems, however, to luivi' \'-n\\id means to build a small fori jniioncf the rncks nn'l Toys of Cape Sable. He named it Fori Ltmii^ron, and here he appears to have maintained liimseli" fcr a time by fishing and the fur-tradu. Many years before, a French boy of fourteen years, Charles Saint-l^tienne de la Tour, was bron^lit to Acadia by his father, Claude de la Tour, where he became attached to the service of Bi(>ncourt (Poutrincourt), and, as he himself says, served as his ensign and lieutenant. He says, further, that Biencourt on his death left him all his property in Acadia. It was thus, it seems, that La Tour became owner of Fort Lomt^ron and its dependencies at Cape Sable, whereupon he begged the King to give him help against his enemies, especially the English, who, as he thought, meant to seize the country ; and he begged also for a commission to command in Acadia for his Majesty.^ In fact. Sir William Alexander soon tried to dis- possess him and seize his fort. Charles de la Tour's father had been captured at sea by the privateer "Kirke," and carried to England. Here, being a widower, he married a lady of honor of the Queen, J La Tour an Uoh, 25 Jul;], 1627. mimjmrmmrmfmm^fg^^ wmmmm ill I I ill: i-% 6 LA TOUR AND D'AUNAY. [1629. and, being a Protestant, renounced his French allegiance. Alexander made him a baronet of Nova Scotia, a new title which King James had authorized Sir William to confer on persons of consideration aiding him in his work of colonizing Acadia. Alexander now fitted out two ships, with which he sent the elder La Tour to Cape Sable. On arriving, the father, says the story, made the most brilliant offers to his son if he would give up Fort Lom^ron to the English, — to which young La Tour is reported to have answered in a burst of patriotism, that he would take no favors except from his sovereign, the King of France. On this, the English are said to have attacked the fort, and to have been beaten off. As the elder La Tour could not keep his promise to deliver the place to the English, they would have no more to do with him, on which his dutiful son offered him an asylum under condition that he should never enter the fort. A house was built for him outside the ramparts; and here the trader, Nicolas Denys, found him in 1635. It is Denys who tells the above story, ^ which he probably got from the younger La Tour, — and which, as he tells it, is inconsistent with the known character of its pretended hero, who was no model of loyalty to his king, being a chameleon whose principles took the color of his interests. Denys says, further, that the elder La Tour had been invested with the Order of the Garter, and that ^ DenyB, Description geojraphique et historigue. 1630.] THE BROTHERS KIRKE. lad lat the same dignity was offered to his son; which is absurd. The truth is, that Sir William Alexander, thinking that the two La Tours might be useful to him, made them both baronets of Nova Scotia.^ Young La Tour, while begging Louis XIIL for a commission to command in Acadia, got from Sir William Alexander not only the title of baronet, but also a large grant of land at and near Cape Sable, to be held as a fief of the Scottish Crown.^ Again, he got from the French King a grant of land on the river iSt. John, and, to make assurance doubly sure, got leave from Sir William Alexander to occupy it.^ This he soon did, and built a fort near the mouth of the river, not far from the present city of St. John. Meanwhile the French had made a lodgment on the rock of Quebec, and not many years after, all North America from Florida to the Arctic circle, and from Newfoundland to the springs of the St. Lawrence, was given by King Louis to the Company of New France, with Uichelieu at its head.* Sir William Alexander, jealous of this powerful rivalry, caused a private expedition to be fitted out under the brothers Kirke. It succeedcfl, and the French settle- * Grant from Sir William Alexander to Sir Claude de St. Etienne {de la Tour), 30 Xov., lG-?.[). Ibid, to Charles de St. I^tienne, Esq., Seigneur de St. Denniscourt and Balfpienr, 12 ^/('!/, 1630. (Hazard, State Papers, i. 2m, 208.) The names of both father and son appear on the list of baronets of Nova Scotia. ^ Patent from Sir William Alexander to Claude and Charles de la Tour, 30 April, 1030. * Williamson, Histori/ of Maine, i. 246. * See " Pioneers of France," 440. m w .1 ■I I .1: 1 'i' LA TOUR AND D'AUNAY. [1632. ments in Acadia and Canada were transferred by conquest to England. England soon gave them back by the treaty of St. Germahi;^ and Claude de Razilly, a Knight of Malta, was charged to take pos- session of them in the name of King Louis. ^ Full powers were given him over the restored domains, together with grants of Acadian lands for himself.^ Razilly reached Port Royal in August, 16B2- with three hundred men, and the Scotch colony planted there by Alexander gave up the place in obedience to an order from the King of England. Unfortunately for Charles de la Tour, Razilly brought with him an officer destined to become La Tour's worst enemy. This was Charles de Menou d'Aunay Charnisay, a gentleman of birth and character, who acted as liis commander's man of trust, and who, in Razilly 's name, presently took possession of such other feeble English and Scotch settlements as had been begun by Alexander or the people of New England along the coasts of Nova Scotia and Maine. This placed the French Crown and the Company of New France in sole possession for a time of the region then called Acadia. When Acadia was restored to France, La Tour's 1 Traite de St. Germain en Lai/e, 29 Mars, 1632, Article 3. For reasons of the restitution, see " Pioneers of France," 454. ^ Convention avec le Sieiir de Rnzill// pour aller recevoir la Restitution du Port Ro'/al, etc., 27 Mars, 1032. Commission du Sieur de Razilly, 10 May, 1032. " Concession de la riviere et baije Saincte Croix d M. de Razilly, 29 May, 1632. 1635.] THE TWO RIVALS. 9 English title to his lands at Cape Sable became worthless. He hastened to Paris to fortify his posi- tion; and, suppressing his dallyings with England and Sir William Alexander, he succeeded not only in getting an extensive grant of lands at Cape Sable, but also the title of lieutenant-general for the King in Fort Lom^ron and its dependencies,^ and commander at Cape Sable for the Company of New France. Razilly, who represented the King in Acadia, died in 1635, and left his authority to D' Aunay Charnisay, his relative and second in command. D' Aunay made his headquarters at Port Royal; and nobody dis- puted his authority except La Tour, who pretended to be independent of him in virtue of his commission from the Crown and his grant from the Company. Hence rose dissensions that grew at last into \\ar. The two rivals differed widely in position and qualities. Charles de Menou, Seigneur d' Aunay Charnisay, came of an old and distinguished family of Touraine,^ and he prided himself above all things on his character of getitilhomme frai^ais. Charles •a m H 5 * Revocation de la Commission dti Sienr Charles de Saint-Etienne, Sieur de la Tour, 23 Fer., 1641. ^ The modern representative of this family, Comte Jules de Menou, is the author of a remarkable manuscrij)t book, written from family papers and official documents, and entitled L'Aradie colon i see par Charles de Menou d'Aunai/ Chitrnlscn/. I have followed Comte de Menou's spelling of the name. It is often written D'Aulnay, and by New Enijland writers D'Aulney. The manu- script just mentioned is in my possession. Comte de Menou is also the author of a printed work called Preuces de I'liistoire de la Maiuon de Menou. I VJ LA TOUR AND D'AUNAY. [1635. :i ; Saint-fetienne de la Tour was of less conspicuous lineage.^ In fact, his father, Claude de la Tour, is said by his enemies to have been at one time so reduced in circumstances that he carried on the trade of a mason in Rue St. Germain at Paris. The son, however, is called gentilhomme d^une naissance dis" tinguee^ both in papers of the court and in a legal docment drawn up in the interest of his children. As he came to Acadia when a boy he could have had little education, and both he and D'Aunay carried on trade, — which in France would have derogated from their claims as gentlemen, though in America the fur-trade was not held inconsistent with noblesse. Of La Tour's little kingdom at Cape Sable, with its rocks, fogs, and breakers, its seal-haunted islets and iron-bound shores guarded by Fort Lom^ron, we have but dim and uncertain glimpses. After the death of Biencourt, La Tour is said to have roamed the woods with eighteen or twenty men, "living a vagabond life with no exercise of religion. "^ He himself admits that he was forced to live like the Indians, as did Biencourt before him.^ Better times had come, and he was now commander of Fort * The true surname of La Tour's family, which belonged to the neighborhood of Evreux, in Normandy, was Turgis. The designa- tion of La Tour was probably derived from the name of some family estate, after a custom common in France under the old rdgime. The Turgis'a arms were " d'or au chevron de sable, accom- pagne' de trois palmes de meme." ' Menou, L'Acadie colonisee par Charlea de Menou d'Aunay Charniiay. • La Tow au Roy, 25 Juillet, 1627. 1641.] PORT ROYAL. 11 a [e \e lie U- le Lom^ron, — or, as he called it, Fort La Tour, — with a few Frenchmen and abundance of Micmac Indians. His next neighbor was the adventurer Nicolas Denys, who with a view to the timber trade had settled himself with twelve men on a small river a few leagues distant. Here Razilly had once made him a visit, and was entertained under a tent of boughs with a sylvan feast of wild pigeons, brant, teal, woodcock, snipe, and larks, cheered by profuse white wine and claret, and followed by a dessert of wild raspberries.^ On the other side of the Acadian peninsula D'Aunay reigned at Port Royal like a feudal lord, which in fact he was. Denys, who did not like him, says that he wanted only to rule, and treated his settlers like slaves ; but this, even if true at the time, did not always remain so. D'Aunay went to France in 1641, and brought out, at his own charge, twenty families to people his seigniory. ^ He had already brought out a wife, having espoused Jeanne Molin (or Motin), daughter of the Seigneur de Courcelles. What with old settlers and new, about forty families were gathered at Port Royal and on the river Annapolis, and over these D'Aunay ruled like a feudal Robinson Crusoe.^ He gave each colonist a farm charged with a perpetual rent of one sou an arpent, or French acre. The houses of the settlers I i! * Denys, Description georjraphique et h'storique. " Rameau, Une Colonic feodale en Amerique, i. 93 (ed. 1889). • Ibid., i. 96, 97. 12 LA TOUll AND D'AUNAY. [1641. were log cabins, and the manor-house of their lord was a larger building of the same kind. The most pressing need was of defence, and D'Aunay lost no time in repairing and reconstructing the old fort on the point between Allen's River and the Annapolis. He helped his tenants at their work; and his con- fessor describes him as returning to his rough manor- house on a wet day, drenched with rain and bespattered with mud, but in perfect good humor, after helping some of the inhabitants to mark out a field. The confessor declares that during the eleven months of his acquaintance with him he never heard him speak ill of anybody whatever, a statement which must probably be taken with allowance. Yet this proud scion of a noble stock seems to have given himself with good grace to the rough labors of the frontiersman; while Father Ignace, the Capuchin friar, praises him for the merit, transcendent in clerical eyes, of constant attendance at mass and fre- quent confession.^ With his neighbors, the Micmac Indians, he was on the best of terms. He supplied their needs, and they brought him the furs that enabled him in some measure to bear the heavy charges of an establish- ment that could not for many years be self-support- ing. In a single year the Indians are said to have brought three thousand moose-skins to Port Royal, besides beaver and other valuable fura. Yet, from a commercial point of view, D'Aunay did not ^ Lettre du Pere Ignace de Paris, Capucin, 6 Aou8t, 1653. 1642.] PORT ROYAL. 18 prosper. He had sold or mortgaged his estates in France, borrowed hirge sums, built ships, bought cannon, levied soldiers, and brought over inuiiigrants. He is reported to have had three hundred fighting men at his principal station, and sixty cannon mounted on his ships and forts; for l)esides Port Royal he had two or three smaller establishments.^ Port Royal was a scene for an artist, with its fort; its soldiers in breastplate and morion, armed with pike, halberd, or matchlock; its ma :or-house of logs, and its seminary of like construction; its twelve Capuchin friars, with cowled heads, sandalled feet, and the cord of Saint Francis; the birch canoes of Micmac and Abenaki Indians lying along the strand, and their feathered and painted owners lounging about the place or dozing around their wigwam fires. It was mediiEvalism married to primeval savagerJ^ The friars were supported by a fund supplied by Richelieu, and their chief business was to convert the Indians into vassals of France, the Church, and the Chevalier d'Aunay. Hard by was a wooden chapel, where the seignior knelt in dutiful observance of every rite, and where, under a stone chiselled with his ancient scutcheon, one of his children lay buried. In the fort he had not forgotten to provide a dungeon for his enemies. * Certificat a J'e^nrd ffe M. d'Aunnj/ Charnisai/, si'gni Michel Bondrot, Lieutenant General en I'Acadie, et autres, nnciens habitans au pai/s, 5 Oct., 1687. Lettre du Roy dc (jouverneur et lieutenant general es c'ostes de I'Acadie pour Charles de Menou, Sieur d'Aulnay Charnisay, Fivrier, 1647. J' 'I ' IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 4. 1.0 ^Uf 1^ I.I 1.25 12.2 lis 12.0 1.4 1.8 1.6 7] m %v' ^^^^■-'*- -y ^ // ■V > '^i 7 Photographic Sdences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 S. •S^ \ iV \\ [V ^y^ '^K\ ^4 ■ i jayaiiHij^ ipi 14 LA TOUR AND D'AUNAY. [1642. ; ., '' i I 1 I si' The worst of these was Charles de la Tour. Before the time of Razilly and his successor D'Aunay, La Tour had felt himself the chief man in Acadia ; but now he was confronted by a rival higher in rank, superior in resources and court influence, proud, ambitious, and masterful.^ He was bitterly jealous of D'Aunay; and, to strengthen himself against so formidable a neighbor, he got from the Company of New France the grant of a tract of land at the mouth of the river St. John, where he built a fort and called it after his own name, though it was better known as Fort St. Jean.'^ Thither he re^jioved from his old post at Cape Sable, and Fort St. Jean now became his chief station. It confronted its rival, Port Royal, across the intervening Bay of Fundy. Now began a bitter feud between the t .vo chiefs, each claiming lands occupied by the other. The Court interposed to settle the dispute, but in its ignorance of Acadian geography its definitions were so obscure that the question was more embroiled than ever. 3 1 Besides succeeding to the authority of Razilly, D'Auoay had bought of his heirs their land claims in Acadia. Arrets du Coiiseil, 9 Mars, 1642. 2 Concession de la Compngnie de la Nouvelle France d Charles de Saint-Etienne, Sieur de la Tour, Lieutenant General de I'Acadie, du Fort de la Tour, dans la Riviere de St. Jean, du 16 Jan., 1636, in Memoires des Coinmissaires, v. 113 (ed. 1756, 12nio). » Louis XIII a d' Annan, 10 Fee, 1038. This seems to be the occasion of Charlevoix's inexact assertion that Acadia was divided into three governments, under D'Aunay, La Tour, and Nicolas Denys, respectively. The title of Denys, such as it was, had no existence till 1654. tl 1633-42.] ENGLISH INTERLOPERS. 15 ■''.,a in the led las no While the domestic feud of the rivals was gather- ing to a head, foreign heretics had fastened their clutches on various parts of the Atlantic coast which France and the Church claimed as their own. English heretics had made lodgment in Virginia, and Dutch heretics at the mouth of the Hudson; while other sectaries of the most malignant type had kennelled among the sands and pine-trees of Plymouth; and others still, slightly different, but equally venomous, had ensconced themselves on or near the small penin- sula of Shawmut, at the head of La Grande Baye, or the Bay of Massachusetts. As it was not easy to dislodge them, the French dissembled for the present, yielded to the logic of events, and bided their time. But the interlopers soon began to swarm northward and invade the soil of Acadia, sacred to God and the King. Small parties from Plj-mouth built trading- houses at Machias and at what is now Castine, on the Penobscot. As they were competitors in trade, no less than foes of God and King Louis, and as thej'^ were too few to resist, both La Tour and D'Aunay resolved to expel them; and in 1633 La Tour attacked the Plymouth trading-house at Machias, killed two of the five men he found there, carried off the other three, and seized all the goods. ^ Two years later D'Aunay attacked the Plymouth trading- station at Penobscot, the Pentegoet of the French, and took it in the name of King Louis. That he might not appear in the jxirt of a pirate, he set a * Hubbard, History of New Enyland, 163. ^^^^BM n i, 16 LA TOUR AND D'AUNAY. [1838-42. 1 , . 'i s ■! < I, -I » ! •1 price on the goods of the traders, and then, having soizod them, gave in return his promise to pay at some convenient time if the owners would come to him for the money. He had called on La Tour to help him in this raid against Penohscot; but La Tour, unwilling to recog- nize his right to command, had refused, and had hopad that D'Aunay, becoming disgusted with his Acadian venture, which promised neither honor nor profit, would give it up, go back to France, and stay there. About the year 1638 D'Aunay did in fact go to France, but not to stay ; for in due time he reap- peared, bringing with him his bride, Jeanne Motin, who had had the courage to share his fortunes, and whom he now installed at Port Royal, — a sure sign, as his rival thoug'.it, that he meant to make his home there. Disappointed and angry. La Tour now lost patience, went to Port Royal, and tried to stir D'Aunay's soldiers to mutiny; then set on his Indian friends to attack a boat in which was one of D'Aunay's soldiers and a Capuchin fri'.r, — the soldier being killed, though the friar escaped.^ This was the beginning of a quarrel waged partly at Port Royal and St. Jean, and partly before the admiralty court of Guienne and the royal council, partly with bullets and cannon-shot, and partly with edicts, decrees, and proch verhaux. As D'Aunay had taken a wife, so too would La Tour; and he charged his agent Desjardins to bring him one from France. * Menou, UAcadle coloniser, par Charles de ^fenou d'Aunay. 1 ■;;!» i642.] LA TOUR SURRENDERS. 17 :en his ice. The agent acquitted himself of his delicate mission, and shipped to Acadia one Marie Jacquelin, — daughter of a barber of Mans, if we may believe the questionable evidence of his rival. Be this as it may, Marie Jacquelin proved a prodigy of mettle and energy, espoused her husband's cause with passionate vehemence, and backed his quarrel like the intrepid Amazon she was. She joined La Tour at Fort St. Jean, and proved the most strenuous of allies. About this time, D'Aunay heard that the English of Plymouth meant to try to recover Penobscot from his hands. On this he sent nine soldiers thither, with provisions and munitions. La Tour seized them on the way, carried them to Fort St. Jean, and, according to his enemies, treated them like slaves. D'Aunay heard nothing of this till four months after, when, being told of it by Indians, he sailed in person to Penobscot with two small vessels, reinforced the place, and was on his way back to Port Royal when La Tour met him with two armed pinnaces. A fight took place, and one of D'Aunay's vessels was dismasted. He fought so well, however, that Cap- tain Jamin, his enemy's chief officer, was killed; and the rest, including La Tour, his new wife, and his agent Desjardins, were forced to surrender, and were carried prisoners to Port Royal. At the request of the Capuchin friars D'Aunay set them all at liberty, after compelling La Tour to sign a promise to keep the peace in future.^ Both parties * Menou, L'Acadle colonis^e par Charles de Menou d'Aunay. 2 ii w tarn 'f. * 1 'i ■i , m. 1.^ 18 LA TOUR AND D'AUNAY. [1642. now laid their cases before the French courts, and, whether from the justice of his cause or from superior influence, D'Aunay prevailed. La Tour's commis- sion was revoked, and he was ordered to report him- self in France to receive the King's commands. Trusting to his remoteness from the seat of power, and knowing that the King was often ill served and worse informed, he did not obey, but remained in Acadia exercising his authority as before. D'Aunay's father, from his house in Rue St. Germain, watched over his son's interests, and took care that La Tour's conduct should not be unknown at court, A decree was thereupon issued directing D'Aunay to seize his rival's forts in the name of the King, and place them in charge of trusty persons. The order was precise ; but D'Aunay had not at the time force enough to execute it, and the frugal King sent him only six soldiers. Hence he could only show the royal order to La Tour, and offer him a passage to France in one of his vessels if he had the discretion to obey. La Tour refused, on which D'Aunay returned to France to report his rival's contumacy. At about the same time La Tour's French agent sent him a vessel with succors. The King ordered it to be seized ; but the order came too late, for the vessel had already sailed from Rochelle bound to Fort St. Jean. When D'Aunay reported the audacious conduct of his enemy, the royal council ordered that the offender should be brought prisoner to France ; ^ and D'Aunay, 1 Arret du CQnseil, 21 Fev., 1642. 1643.] LA TOUR ASKS AID OF BOSTON. 19 as the King's lieutenant-genera] in Acadia, was again required to execute the decree.^ La Tour ^^■as now in tlie position of a rebel, and all legality was on the side of his enemy, who represented royalty itself. D'Aunay sailed at once for Acadia, and in August, 1642, anchored at the mouth of the St. John, before La Tour's fort, and sent three gentlemen in a boat to read to its owner the decree of the council and the order of the King. La Tour snatched the papers, crushed them between his hands, abused the envoys roundly, put them and their four sailors into prison, and kept them there above a ycar.^ His position was now desperate, for he had placed himself in open revolt. Alarmed for the conse- quences, he turned for help to the heretics of Boston. True Catholics detested them as foes of God and man; but La Tour was neither true Catholic noi true Protestant, and would join hands with anybcd}- ^^•ho could serve his turn. Twice before he had made advances to the Boston malignants, and sent to them first one Ilochet, and tlicn one Lestang, with pro- posals of trade and alliance. The envoys Vvcre treated with courtesy, but could get no promise of active aid.^ La Tour's agent, Dcsjardins, had sent him from Kochelle a ship, called the "hi. Clement,' manned 1 Mcnou. I'Arailie coi'>ii':.cc. ^ jMt'iiou, L'Acadie coloniaee. IMorcaii, Ilisiolre de I'AcacIie, ICO, 170. '•' Hubbaril, Ilistorij of New En'jland, cliap. ilv. "Winthrop, ii. ^2. 88. i .! 1 P ,1, 20 LA TOUR AND D'AUNAY. [1643. l)v a hundred and forty Huguenots, laden with stores and munitions, and commanded hy Captain Mouron. In due time La Tour at his Fort St. Jean heard that the "St. Clement" lay off the mouth of the river, unable to get in because D'Aunay blockaded the entrance with two armed ships and a pinnace. On this he resolved to appeal in person to the heretics. He ran the blockade in a small boat under cover of night, and, accompanied by his wife, boarded the "St. Clement" and sailed for Boston.^ i .1 Menou, L'Acadie colonisie. .h 643. )res •on. ihat the On ics. p of the U ■M I rliPT pi I' ! ■ II CHAPTER I. 1634. NOTRE-DAME DES ANGES. Quebec in 1634. — Father Le Jeune. — The Mission-House: ITS Do-MESTic Economy. — The Jesuits and their Designs. Opposite Quebec lies the tongue of land called Point Levi. One who in the summer of the year 1634 stood on its margin and looked northward, across the St. Lawrence, would have seen, at the distance of a mile or more, a range of lofty cliffs, rising on the left into the bold heights of Cape Diamond, and on the right sinking abruptly to the bed of the tributarv river St. Charles. Beneath these cliffs, at the brink of the St. Lawrence, he would have descried a cluster of warehouses, sheds, and wooden tenements. Immediately above, along the verge of the precipice, he could have traced the outlines of a fortified work, with a flagstaff, and a few small cannon to command the river; while, at the only point where Nature had made the heights accessible, a zigzag path connected the warehouses and the fort. Now, embarked in the canoe of some Montagnais Indian, let him cross the St. Lawrence, land at the ong the nd a at ghts )uses 1031.] QUEBEC IN 1634. 89 i pier, and, passing the cluster of buildings, climb the pathway up the cliff. Pausing for rest and breath, he might see, ascending and descending, the tenants of this outpost of the wilderness, — a soldier of the fort, or an oOicer in slouched hat and plume; a factor of the fur company, owner and sovereign lord of all Canada ; a party of Indians ; a trader from the upper country, one of the precursors of that hardy race of courenrs de bois, destined to form a conspicuous and striking feature of the Canadian population j next, perhaps, would appear a figure widely different. The close, black cassock, the rosary hanging from the waist, and the wide, black hat, looped up at the sides, proclaimed the Jesuit, — Father Le Jeune, Superior of the Residence of Quebec. And now, that we may better know the aspect and condition of the infant colony and incipient mission, we will follow the priest on his way. Mounting the steep path, he reached the top of the cliff, some two hundred feet above the river and the warehouses. On the left lay the fort built by Champlain, covering a part of the ground now form- ing Durham Terrace and the Place d'Armes. Its ramparts were of logs and earth, and within was a turreted building of stone, used as a barrack, as officers' quarters, and for other purposes.^ Near the fort stood a small chapel, newly built. The sur- rounding country was cleared and partially culti- » Compare the various notices in Champlain (1632) with that of Du Creux, Historia Canadensis, 204. :):;« % it FT 90 NOTRE-DAME DES ANGES. [1634. J I vated; yet only one dwell ing-liousc worthy the name appeared. It was a substantial cottage, where lived Madame Hubert, widow of the first settler of Canada, with her daugliter, her son-in-law Couillard, and their children, — good Catholics all, who, two years before, when Quebec was evacuated by the English, ^ wept for joy at beholding Le Jeune, and his brother Jesuit De None, crossing their threshold to offer beneath their roof the long-forbidden sacrifice of the Mass. There were enclosures with cattle near at liand ; and the house, with its surroundings, betokened industry and thrift. Thence Le Jeune walked on, across the site of the modern market-place, and still onward, near the line of the cliffs which sank abruptly on his right. Beneath lay the mouth of the St. Charles; and, beyond, the wilderness shore of Beauport swept in a wide curve eastward, to where, far in the distance, the Gulf of Montmorenci yawned on the great river.^ The priest soon passed the clearings, and entered the woods which covered the site of the present suburb of St. John. Thence he descended to a lower plateau, where now lies the suburb of St. Roch, and, still advancing, reached a pleasant spot at the 1 See " Pioneers of France in the New World." Hebert's cottage seems to have stood between Ste.-Famille and Couiliard Streets, as appears by a contract of lGt34, cited by M. Ferlund. 2 The settlement of Beauport was begun this year, or the year following, by the Sieur Giftard, to whom a large tract had been granted here. Langevin, Notes sur les Archives de N. D. de Beau- portt 5.. 1031.] THE MISSION-HOUSE. 91 extremity of the Pointe-aux-LiL'vres, a tract of moaclow land nearly enclosed l)y a sudden hend of the St. Charles. Here lay a canoe or skiff; and, paddling across the narrow stream, Le Jfune sau' on the meadow, two hundred yards from Iho baidv, a square enclosure formed of palisades, like a modern picket fort of the Indian frontier.^ Within tiiis enclosure were two buildings, one of which had bef.'n half burned by the English, and was not yet repaired. It served as storehouse, stable, works! lop, and bakery. Opposite stood the principal building, a structure of planks, plastered with mud, and thatched with long grass from the meadows. If consisted of one story, a garret, and a cellar, and container! four principal rooms, of which one served as chapel, another as refectory, another as kitchen, and the fourth as a lodging for workmen. The furniture of all was plain in the extreme. Until the preceding year, the chapel had had no other ornament than a sheet on which were glued two coarse engravings; but tlie priests had now decorated their altar with an image of a dove representing the Holy Ghost, an image of 1 This must have been very near the point where the streamlet called the river Lairet enters the St. Cliarlos. The place has a triple historic interest. The wintering-place of Cartier in 1535-30 (see " Pioneers of France ") seems to have been here. Here, too, in 1759, Montcalm's bridge of boats crossed the St. Charles ; and in a large intrenchment, which probably included the site of the Jesuit mission-house, the remnants of his shattered army rallied, after their defeat on the Plains of Abraham. See the very curious Nar- rative of the Cksvalier Johnstone, published by the Historical Society of Quebec. 92 NOTRE-DAME DES ANGES. [1634. ■■ 'IP ■' Loyola, another of Xuvier, and three images of the yir;4'iii. Four cells opened from the refectory, the largest of which was eight feet square. In these lodged six priests, while two lay brothers found shelter in the garret. The house had been hastily ])uilt, eiglit years before, and now leaked in all parts. Sucli was the Residence of Notre-Dame des Anges. Here \v;va nourished the germ of a vast enterprise, and this was the cradle of the great mission of New Franco.^ Of the six Jesuits gathered in the refectory for the evening meal, one was conspicuous among the rest, — a tall, strong man, with features that seemed carved by Nature for a soldier, but which the mental habits of years had stamped with the visible impress of the priesthood. This was Jean de Br^beuf, descendant of a noble family of Normandy, and one of the ablest and most devoted zealots whose names stand on the missionary rolls of his Order. His com- panions were Masse, Daniel, Davost, De NouS, and the Father Superior, Le Jeune. Masse was the same priest who had been the companion of Father Biard in the abortive mission of Acadia. ^ By reason 1 The above particulars are gathered from the Relations of 1626 (Lalemant), and l(i:]2, 1033, 1(334, 1035 (Le Jeune), but chiefly from a long letter of the Father Superior to the Provincial of the Jesuits at Paris, containini^ a curiously minute report of the state of the mission. It was sent from Quebec by the returning ships in the summer of 1034, and will be found in Carayon, Premiere Mission des Jesnites au Canada, 122. The original is in the archives of the Order at Rome. * See " Pioneers of France in the New World." 1634.] THE JESUITS. 98 uits the the des the of his useful qualities, Le Jeune nicknamed him " le Pore Utile." At present, his special function was the care of the pigs and cows, which he kept in the enclosure around the buildings, lest they should ravage the neighboring fields of rye, barley, wheat, and maize. ^ De None had charge of the eight or ten workmen employed by the mission, who gave him at times no little trouble by their repinings and com- plaints. ^ They were forced to hear mass every morn- ing and prayers every evening, besides an exhortation on Sunday. Some of them were for returning home, while two or three, of a different complexion, wished to be Jesuits themselves. The Fathers, in their intervals of leisure, worked with their men, spade in hand. For the rest, they were busied in preaching, singing vespers, saying mass and hearing confessions at the fort of Quebec, catechising a few Indians, and striving to master the enormous difficulties of the Huron and Algonquin languages. Well might Father Le Jeune write to his Superior, "The harvest is plentiful, and the laborers few." These men aimed at the conversion of a continent. 1 " Le P. Masse, que je nomine quelquefois en riant le P6re Utile, est bien cognu de V. R. II a soin des choses domestiques et du bestail que nous avons, en quoy il a trfes-bien reussy." — Lettre du P. Paul le Jeune an R. P. Provincial, in Carayon, 122. Le Jeune does not fail to send an inventory of the " bestail " to his Superior, namely : " Deux grosses truies qui nourissent ehacune quatre petits cochons, deux vachcs, deux petites genisses, et un petit taureau." 2 The methodical Le Jeune sets down the causes of their discon* tent under six different heads, each duly numbered. Thus : — " 1°. C'est h naturel des artisans de se plaindre et de gronder,* "2°. La diversity des gages les fait murmurer," etc. H r ■': i ;i ■ i 1 ; 1 i ;j ■ i 4 : 1 ■' ' u F< At t;«''i; 94 NOTRE-DAME DES ANGES. [1634. From their hovel on the St. Charles, they surveyed a field of labor whose vastness miglit tire the wings of tliought itself, — a scene repellent and appalling, darkened with omens of peril and woe. They were an advance-guard of the great army of Loyola, strong in a discipline that controlled not alone the body and the will, but the intellect, the heart, the soul, and the inmost consciousness. The lives of these early Canadian Jesuits attest the earnestness of their faith and the intensity of their zeal; but it was a zeal bridled, curbed, and ruled by a guiding hand. Their marvellous training in equal measure kindled enthu- siasm and controlled it, roused into action a mighty power, and made it as subservient as those great material forces which modern science has learned to awaken and to govern. They were drilled to a fac- titious humility, prone to find utterance in expressions of self-depreciation and self-scorn, which one may often judge unwisely, when he condemns them as insincere. They were devoted believers, not only in the fundamental dogmas of Rome, but in those lesser matters of faith which heresy despises as idle and puerile superstitions. One great aim engrossed their lives. " For the greater glory of God " — ad majorem Dei gloriam — they would act or wait, dare, suffer, or die, yet all in unquestioning subjection to the authority of the Superiors, in whom they recognized the agents of Divine authority itself. !?;i!i: %> 14. a of g' re ig id [id th 3al eir LU- ity Bat to ac- )ns lay as in ser md leir Fer, the zed I jl ; ( ■I I i ^4 :-.l „, 'till n i ..;(: • HUGUENOTS IN FLOEIDA. CHAPTER I. 1512-1561. EARLY SPANISH ADVENTURE. SPANisn Voyagers. -Romance and Avarice. - Poxcb db Lfoic ^sco":ER:r%::r'''" t ™^ ^^^^« ^— ------ CcAREPn"" u n""" ""^ Narvaez.- Hernando de Soto.- ISH Cr.IM ;ri. ^'^^™— St^OCEEDING VoVAOERS. - SPAN- iSH Claim to Florida. - Spanish Jealousv of France. Towards the close of the fifteenth century, Spain achieved her final triumph over the infidels of Granada, and made her name glorious through all generations by the discoveiy of America. The reli- gious zeal and romantic daring which a long course of Moorish wars had called forth were now exalted to redoubled fervor. Every ship from the New World came freighted with marvels which put the fictions of chivalry to shame; and to the Spaniard of that day America was a region of wonder and mystery, of vague and magnificent promise. Thither adventurers hastened, thii^ting for glory and for gold, and often mingling the enthusiasm of the crusader and the valor of the knight-errant with the bigotry of inquisi- im'i \'l w t ' 10 EARLY SPAI^SII ADVENTURE. [1513. tors and the rapacity of pirates. They roamed over land and sea ; tliey climbed unknown mountains, sur- veyed unknown oceans, pierced tlie sultry intricacies of tropical forests; while from j-ear to year and from day to day new wonders were unfoltlcd, new islands and archipelagoes, new regions of gold and pearl, and barharic eni[nros of more than Oriental wealth. The extravagance of hope and the fever of adventure Imew no bounds. Nor is it surprising that amid such wak- ing marvels the imagination should run wild in romantic dreams; that between the possible and the impossible the line of distinction should bo but faintly drawn, and that men sliould be found ready to stake life ami honor in pursuit of the most insane fantasies. Such a man was the veteran cavalier Juan Ponce de Leon. Greedy of honors and of riches, he em- barked at Porto Rico with three brigantinjs, bent on schemes of discovery. But that which gave the chief stimulus to his enterprise was a story, current among the Indians of Cuba and Hispaniola, that on the island of Bimini, said to be one of the Bahamas, there was a fountain of such virtue, that, bathing in its waters, old men resumed their youth. ^ It was said, 1 ITerrera, Hist. General, Dec. I. Lib. IX. c. 11 ; De Laet, Novus Orbi's, Lib. I. c. 16 ; Garcilaso, Hist, de la Florida, Part I. Lib. I. c. 3 ; Gomara, Hist. Gen. des hides Occidentales, Lib. IL c. 10. Compare Peter Martyr, De Helms Oceanicis, Dec. VIL c. 7, who says tliat the foniitaiu was in Florida. Tlie story has an explanation sutliciently characteristic, having been suggested, it is said, by the heauty of the native women, which none could resl.«it, and which kindled the fires of youth in the veins of iige. The terms of Pouce de Leon's bargain witli the Kiug are set forth ;t • 1528.] POXCE DE LEON. It moreover, that on a neigliboring shore might he found a river gifted with the same beneficent property, and believed by some to be no other than the Jordan.^ Ponce de Leon found the island of lUniini, but not the fountain. Farther westward, in tlie latitude of thirty degrees and eight minutes, he approjiched an unknown land, Avliich he named Florida, and, steer- ing soutliward, explored its coast as far as the extreme point of the peninsula, when, after some farther explo- rations, he retraced his course to Porto Rico. Ponce de Leon had not regained his youth, but his active spirit was unsubdued. Nine years later he attempted to plant a colony in Florida; the Lidians attacked him fiercely; he was mortally wounded, and died soon ai'terwards in Cuba.2 The voyages of Garay and Vasquez do Ayllon threw new light on the discoveries of Ponce, and the general outline of the coasts of Florida became known to the Spaniards.^ ]\lean while, Cortes had conquered Mexico, and the fame of that iniquitous but magnifi- in the MS. Copituladon con Juan Ponre sohre Bimhij/. He was to have cxclnsivo right to the island, settle it at liis own cost, and he called Adolantado of Bimini ; but tlio King was to build and hold forts there, send agents to divide the Indians among the settlers, and receive first a tenth, afterwards a fifth, of the gold. 1 Fontanedo in Ternaux-Conipans, Jiecueil siir la Floriih-, 18, 19, 42. Compare Hcrrera, Dec. I. Lib. IX. c. 12. In allusion to this belief, the name Jordan was given eight years afterwards by Ayllon to a river of South Carolina. 2 Hakluyt, Vo/iar/ea, V. 33.3 : Barcia, Ensai/o Cronolofjiro, 5. « Peter Martyr in Hakluyt, V. 333 ; De Laet, Lib. IV, c. 2. m 11 'i!|' 12 EARLY SPANISH ADVENTURE. [1528. cent exploit rang through all Spain. Many an impa- tient cavalier burned to achieve a kindred fortune. To the excited fancy of the Spaniards the unknown land of Florida seemed the seat of surpassing wealth, and Pamphilo de Narvaez essayed to possess himself of its fancied treasures. Landing on its shores, and proclaiming destruction to the Indians unless they acknowledged the sovereignty of the Pope and the Emperor,^ he advanced into the forests with three hundred men. Nothing could exceed their suifer- ings. Nowhere could they find the gold they came to seek. The village of Appalache, where they hoped to gain a rich booty, offered nothing but a few mean wigwams. The horses gave out, and the famished soldiers fed upon their flesh. The men sickened, and the Indians unceasingly harassed their march. At length, after two hundred and eighty le igues ^ of wpndering, they found themselves on the northern shore of the Gulf of Mexico, and desperately put to sea in such crazy boats as their skill and means coiikl construct. Cold, disease, famine, thirst, and the fury of the waves, melted them away. Narvaez liim- self perished, and of his wretched followers no more than four escaped, reaching by land, after years of vicissitude, the Christian settlements of New Spain.^ 1 Sotnmafinn nii.r Ilnhilnjitu do In Floridc, in Ternaux-Compniis, 1. 2 Their own e\agger»i v"Ai MU m CHAPTER I. 1643-1C69. CAVELIER DE LA SALLE. The Youth of La Salle: his Cowection with the Jesuits; HE GOES TO Canada ; his Cuauacteu; his Schemes; his Seign- iory AT La Chine ; his Expedition in Seauch of a Western Passage to India. Among the burghers of Rouen was the old and rich family of the Caveliers. Though citizens and not nobles, some of their connections held high diplo- matic posts and honorable employments at Court. They were destined to find a better claim to distinc- tion. In 1643 was born at Rouen Robert Cavelier, better known by the designation of La Salle. ^ His father Jean and his uncle Henri were wealthy mer- ^ The following is the acte de naissance, discovered by Margry in the registres de I'efat civil, Paroisse St. Herbland, Rouen: "Le vingt- deuxicme jour de novembre, 1643, a etc' baptise' Robert Cavelier, fils de honorable homme Jean Cavelier et de Catherine Gcest ; ses par- rain et marraine honorables personnes Nicolas Geest et Marguerite Morice." La Salle's name in full was Rene-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de la Salle. La Salle was the name of an estate near Rouen, belonging to the Caveliers, The wealthy French burghers often distinguislied the various members of their families by designations borrowed from landed estates. Thus, Francois Marie Arouet, son of an ex-notary, received the name of Voltaire, which he made famous. Ut i I. •' *l * ft I t:| '"%m p IH 8 CAVELIER DE LA SALLE. [1666. chants, living more like nobles than like burghers; and the boy received an education answering to the marked traits of intellect and character which he soon began to display. He showed an inclination for the exact sciences, and especially for the mathematics, in which he made great proficiency. At an early age, it is said, he became connected with the Jesuits; and, though doubt has been expressed of the state- ment, it is probably true.^ La Salle was always an earnest Catholic ; and yet, judging by the qualities which his after-life evinced, he was not very liable to religious enthusiasm. It is nevertheless clear that the Society of Jesus may have had a powerful attraction for his youthful imagina- tion. This great organization, so complicated yet so harmonious, a mighty machine moved from the centre by a single hand, was an image of regulated power, full of fascination for a mind like his. But if it was likely that he would be drawn into it, it was no less likely that he would soon wish to escape. To find 1 Margry, after investigations at Rouen, is satisfied of its trutli. (Journal General de I'lnstruction Piihllque, xxxi. 571.) Family papers of the Caveliers, examined by tlie Abbe Faillon, and copies of some of which he has sent to me, lead to the same conclupion. We shall find several allusions hereafter to La Salle's having in his youth taught in a school, which, in his position, could only liavo been in connection with some religious community, Tlie doubts alluded to have proceeded from the failure of Father Felix Martin, S. J., to find the name of La Salle on the list of novices. If he had looked for the name of Robert Cavelier, he would probably have found it. The companion of La Salle, Hennepin, is very explicit with regard to this connection with the Jesuits, a point on which he had no motive for falsehood. 1 ■ , i i ■t ; 1 1 1 U I 1666.] LA SALLE AND THE JESUITS. d himself not at the centre of power, but at the circum- ference ; not the mover, but the moved ; the passive instrument of another's will, taught to walk in pre- scribed paths, to renounce his individuality and become a component atom of a vast whole, — would have been intolerable to him. Nature had shaped him for other uses than to teach a class of boys on the benches of a Jesuit school. Nor, on his part, was he likely to please his directors; for, self-con- trolled and self-contained as he was, he was far too intractable a subject to serve their turn. A youth whose calm exterior hid an inexhaustible fund of pride; whose inflexible purposes, nursed in secret, the confessional and the "manifestation of conscience " could hardly drag to the light; whose strong person- ality would not yield to the shaping hand ; and who, by a necessity of his nature, could obey no initiative but his own, — was not after the model that Loyola had commended to his followers. La Salle left the Jesuits, parting with them, it is said, on good terms, and with a reputation of excel- lent acquirements and unimpeachable morals. This last is very credible. The cravings of a deep ambi- tion, the hunger of an insatiable intellect, the intense longing for action and achievement, subdued in him all other passions ; and in liis faults the love of pleasure had no part. He had an elder brother in Canada, the Abbd Jean Cavelier, a priest of St. Sulpice. Apparently, it was this that shaped his destinies. His connection with the Jesuits had deprived him, i 1 I 10 CAVELIER DE LA SALLE. [1666. under the French law, of the inheritance of his father, who had died not long before. An allowance was made to him of three or (as is elsewhere stated) four hundred livres a year, the capital of which was paid over to him ; and with this pittance he sailed for Canada, to seek his fortune, in the spring of 1666.^ Next, we find him at Montreal. In another volume, we have seen how an association of enthu- siastic devotees had made a settlement at this place.^ Having in some measure accomplished its work, it was now dissolved; and the corporation of priests, styled the Seminary of St. Sulpice, which had taken a prominent part in the enterprise, and, indeed, had been created with a view to it, was now the proprietor and the feudal lord of Montreal. It was destined to retain its seignorial rights until the abolition of the feudal tenr.res of Canada in our own day, and it still holds vast possessions in the city and island. These worthy ecclesiastics, models of a discreet and sober conservatism, were holding a post with which a band of veteran soldiers or warlike frontiersmen would have been better matched. Montreal was per- haps the most dangerous place in Canada. In time 1 It does not appear what vows La Salle had taken. By a recent ordinance (16G(3), persons entering religious orders could not take the final vows before the age of twenty-five. By the family papers above mentioned, it appears, however, that he had brought himself under the operation of the law, which debarred those who, having entered religious orders, afterwards withdrew, from claiming the inheritance of relatives who had died after their entrance. * The Jesuit! in North America, chap. xv. a 1666.] LA SALLE AT MONTREAL. 11 of war, which might have been called the normal condition of the colony, it was exposed by iis posi- tion to incessant inroads of the Iroqnois, or Five Nations, of New York; and no man could vcntinc into the forests or the fields without bearing his liio in his hand. The savage confederates had ir.st received a sharp chastisement at the hands of Courcelle, the governor: and the result was a trciUy of peace which might at any moment be broken, but which was an inexpressible relief while it lasted. The priests of St. Sulpice were granting out their lands, on very easy terms, to settleis. 'i'hey wished to extend a thin line of settlements iilong the fiont of their island, to form a sort of outpost, from which an alarm could be given on any descent of the Iroquois. La Salle was the man for such a purpose. Had the priests understood him, — whicli they evidently did not, for some of them suspected him of levity, the last foible with which he could he charged, — had they understood him, they would have seen in him a young man in whom the fire of youth glowed not the less ardently for the veil of reserve that covered it ; who would shrink from no danger, but would not court it in bravado; and who would cling with an invincible tenacity of gripe to any purpose which he might espouse. There is good reason to think that he had come to Canada with purposes already con- ceived, and that he was ready to avail himself of any stepping-stoiio which might help to realize them* Queylus, Superior of the Seminary, made him a , I*. ,:i fl IM Ji M I. I m :t 12 CAVELTER DE LA SALLE. [1666. hi] I 1 ! generous offer; and he accepted it. This was the gratuitous grant of a large tract of land at the place now called La Chine, above the great rapids of the same name, and eight or nine miles from Montreal. On one hand, the place was greatly exposed to attack; and, on tho other, it was favorably situated for the fur-trade. La Salle and his successors became its feudal proprietors, on the sole condition of deliver- ing to the Seminary, on every change of ownerahip, a medal of fine silver, weighing one mark.^ He entered on the improvement of his new domain with what means he could command, and began to grant out his land to such settlers as would join him. Approaching the shore where the city of Montreal now stands, one would have seen a row of small compact dwellings, extending along a narrow street, parallel to the river, and then, as now, called St. Paul Street. On a hill at the right stood the wind- mill of the seigniors, built of stone, and pierced with loopholes to serve, in time of need, as a place of defence. On the left, in an angle formed by the junction of a rivulet with the St. Lawrence, was a square bastioned fort of stone. Here lived the military governor, appointed by the Seminary, and commanding a few soldiers of the regiment of Carignan. In front, on the line of the street, were the enclosure and buildings of the Seminary, and. 1 Transport de la Seigneurie de St. Sitlpice, cited by Faillon. T^a Sallo called his new domain as nbove. Two or three years later, it received the name of La Chine, for a reason which will appear. 1G67.] LA CHINE. 13 nearly adjoining them, those of the Hotel-Dieu, or Hospital, both provided for defence in case of an Indian attack. In the hospital enclosure was a small church, opening on the street, and, in the absence of any other, serving for the whole settlement.^ Landing, passing the fort, and walking southward along the shore, one would soon have left the rough clearings, and entered the primeval forest. Here, mile after mile, he would have journeyed on in soli- tude, when the hoarse roar of the rapids, foaming in fury on his left, would have reached his listening ear; and at length, after a walk of some three hours, he would have found the rude beginnings of a settle- ment. It was where the St. Lawrence widens into the broad expanse called the Lake of St. Louis. Here, La Salle had traced out the circuit of a pali- saded village, and assigned to each settler half an arpent, or about the third of an acre, within the enclosure, for which he was to render to the young seignior a yearly acknowledgment of three capons, besides six deniers — that is, half a sou — in money. To each was assigned, moreover, sixty arpents of land beyond the limits of the village, with the per- petual rent of half a sou for each arpent. He also set apart a common, two hundred arpents in extent, for the use of the settlers, on condition of the pay- ' A detailed plan of Montreal at this time is preserved in tho Archives de I'Empirc, and lias hcen reproduced by Faillon. Tl ere is another, a few years later, and still more minute, of which a fac- simile will be found in the Library of the Canadian Parliament. It 14 CAVELIER DE LA SALLE. [1G08. : X . t 'I 1 i f ; I J 1 1 > t ment by each of five sous a year. He reserved four hundred and twenty arpcnts for his own personal domain, and on this he begun to clear the ground and erect baildin'j!;^. Similar to this were the ba^'in- nings of all the Canadian seigniories formed at this troubled period.^ That La Salle came to Canada with objects dis- tinctly in view, is probable from the fact that he at once began to study the Indian languages, — and with such success that he is said, within two or three years, to have mastered the Iroquois and seveJi or eight other languages and dialects.^ From the shore of his seignior}^ he could gaze westward over the broad breast of the Lake of St. Louis, bounded by the dim forests of Chateauguay and Beauharnois; but his thoughts flew far beyond, across the wild and lonely world that stretched towards the sunset. Like Champlain, and all the early explorers, he dreamed of a passage to the South Sea, and a new road for commerce to the riches of China and Japan. Indians often came to his secluded settlement 5 and, on one occasion, he was visited by a band of the Seneca Iroquois, not long before the scourge of the colony, but now, in virtue of the treaty, wearing the sem- ^ The above particulars liave been uneartherl by the indefatigable Abbd Faillon. Some of La Salle's grants are still preserved in the ancient records of Montreal, '•* Papiers ■')■ IT 18 ! CAVELIER DE LA SALLE. [1669. that three other Frenclinien had treacherously put to death several Iroquois of the Oneida tribe, in order to get possession of their furs. The whole colony trembled in expectation of a new outbreak of the war. Happily, the event proved otherwise. The authors of the last murder escaped; but the three soldiers were shot at Montreal, in presence of a con- siderable number of the Iroquois, who declared themselves satisfied with the atonement; and on this same day, the sixth of July, the adventurers began their voyage. i; I r ; '^ 1669. it to rder lony the The hree con- ired this jgan Wn ! i''f A HALF-CENTURY OF CONFLICT. I M Pr CHAPTER I. 1700-1713. EVE OF WAR. The Spanish Succession. — Influence of Louis XIV. on His- tory. — French Schemes of Conquest in Amekica. — New York. — Unfitness of the Colonies for War. — The Five Nations. — Doubt and Vacillation. — The Western Indians. — Trade and Politics. The war which in the British colonies was called Queen Anne's War, and in England the War of the Spanish Succession, was the second of a series of four conflicts which ended in giving to Great Britain a maritime and colonial preponderance over France and Spain. So far as concerns the colonies and the sea, these several wars may be regarded as a single protracted one, broken by intervals of truce. The three earlier of them, it is true, were European con- tests, begun and waged on European disputes. Their American part was incidentid and apparently subordi- nate, yet it involved questions of prime importance in the history of the world. 11 a « EVE OF WAR. [1702. E M J- ' The War of the Spanish Succession sprang from the ambition of Louis XIV. We are apt to regard the story of that gorgeous monarch as a tale that is told; but his influence shapes the life of nations to this day. At the beginning of his reign two roads lay before hiui, and it was a momentous question for posterity, as for his own age, which one of them he would choose, — whether he would follow the whole- some policy of his great minister Colbert, or obey his own vanity and arrogance, and plunge France into exhausting wars; whether he would hold to the prin- ciple of tolerance embodied in the Edict of Nantes, or do the work of fanaticism and priestly ambition. The one course meant prosperity, progress, and the rise of a middle class; the other meant bankruptcy and the Dragonades, — and this was the King's choice. Crushing taxation, misery, and ruin followed, till France burst out at last in a frenzy, drunk with the wild dreams of Rousseau. Then came the Terror and the Napoleonic wars, and reaction on reaction, revolution on revolution, down to our own day. Louis placed his grandson on the throne of Spain, and insulted England by acknowledging as her right- ful King the son of James II., whom she had deposed. Then England declared war. Canada and the north- ern British colonies had had but a short breathing time since the Peace of Ryswick; both were tired of slaughtering each other, and both needed rest. Yet before the declaration of war, the Canadian officers of the Crown prepared, Avith their usual energy, to meet 1701.] BOS'ION TO BE DESTROYED. the expected crisis. One of them wrote: "If war be declared, it is certain that the King can very easily conquer and ruin New England." The French of Canada often use the name " New England " as apply- ing to the British colonies in general. They are twice as populous as Canada, he goes on to say; but the people are great cowards, totally undisciplined, and ignorant of war, while the Canadians are brave, hardy, and well trained. We have, besides, twenty- eight companies of regulars, and could raise six thou- sand warriors from our Indian allies. Four thousand men could easily lay waste all the northern English colonies, to which end we must have five ships of war, with one thousand troops on board, who must land at Penobscot, where they must be joined by two thousand regulars, militia, and Indians, sent from Canad-a by way of the Chaudiere and the Kennebec. Then the whole force must go to Ports- mouth, take it by assault, leave a garrison there, and march to Boston, laying waste all the towns and villages by the way; after destroying Boston, the army must march for New York, while the fleet fol- lows along the coast. "Nothing could be easier," says the writer, "for the road is good, and there is plenty of horses and carriages. The troops would ruin everything as they advanced, and New York would quickly be destroyed and burnad."^ Another plan, scarcely less absurd, was proposed * Premier Projet pour L'Expidition cnntre fa Nouvelle Anr/leterrt, 1701. Second Projet, etc. Compare N. Y. Col. Docs., ix. 726. 6 EYE OF AVAR. [1701. I i- ■• w w l^i '' : f I about the same time by the celebrated Le Moyne d'Ib3rville. The essential point, he aays, is to get possession of Boston; but there are diiiicultics and risks in the way. Nothing, he adds, referring to the other plan, seems difficult to persons without experi- ence; but unless we are prepared to raise a great and costly armament, our only hope is in surprise. We should make it in winter, when the seafaring population, which is the chief strength of the place, is absent on long voyages. A thousand Canadians, four hundred regulars, and as many Indians should leave Quebec in November, ascend the Chaudiere, then descend the Kennebec, approach Boston under ccrer ** the forest, and carrj- it by a night attack. Apparently he did not know that but for its lean nt!ck — th'^"» but a few yards wide — Boston was an island, and that all around for many leagues the forest that was to have covered his approach had already been devoured by numerous l)usy settlements. He offers to lead the expedition, and declares that if he is honored with the command, he will warrant that the New England capital will be forced to sub- mit to King Louis, after which New York can be seized in its turn.^ In contrast to those incisive proposals, another French officer breathed nothing but peace. Brouillan, 1 Miinoire du Sieur d' Iberville sur Boston ct ses D^pendances, 1700 (1701?). Baron de Saint-Cactin also drew up a plan for attack- ing Boston in 1702 with lists of necessary munitions and other suppliea. 1701.] ATTITUDE 01 NEW YORK. governor of Acadia, wrote to the governor of Massa- chusetts to suggest that, with the consent of their masters, they should make a treaty of neutrality. The English governor being dead, the letter came before the council, who received it coldly. Canada, and not Acadia, was the enemy they had to fear. Moreover, Boston merchants made good profit by supplying the Acadians with necessaries which they could get in no other way ; and in time of war these profits, though lawless, were greater than in time of peace. But what chiefly influenced the council against the overtures of Brouillan was a passage in his letter reminding them that, by the Treaty of Ryswick, the New England people had no right to fish within sight of the Acadian coast. This they flatly denied, saying that the New England people had fished there time out of mind, and that if Brouillan should molest them, they would treat it as an act of war.* While the New England colonies, and especially Massachusetts and New Hampshire, had most cause to deprecate a war, the prospect of one was also extremely unwelcome to the people of New York. The conflict lately closed had borne hard upon them ■\ ': If. '>' ..!■* ' 1 Brouillan a Bellomont, 10 Aout, 1701. Conseil cle Boston a Brou' Ulan, 22 Aout, 1701. Brouillan acted under royal orders, having been told, in case of war being declared, to propose a treaty with New England, unless he should find that he can " se garantir dcs insultes des Anglais " and do considerable harm to their trade, in which case he is to make uo treaty. Me'moire du Roy au Sleur de Brouillan, 23 Mars, 1700. m M ii^ n 8 EVE OF WAR. [1700-1708. through the attacks of the enemy, and still more through the derangement of tlieir industries. They were distracted, too, with the factions rising out of the recent revolution under Jacob Leisler. New York had been the bulwark of the colonies farther south, who, feeling themselves safe, had given their protector little help, and that little grudgingly, seem- ing to regard the war as no concern of theirs. Three thousand and fifty-one pounds, provincial currency, was the joint contribution of Virginia, Maryland, East Jersey, and Connecticut to the aid of New York during five yeai-s of the late war.* Massachusetts could give nothing, even if she would, her hands being full with the defence of her own borders. Colonel Quary wrote to the Board of Trade that New York could not bear alone the cost of defending her- self; that the other colonies were "stuffed with com- monwealth notions, " and were " of a sour temper in opposition to government," so that Parliament ought to take them in hand and compel each to do its part in the common cause. ^ To this Lord Cornbury adds that Rhode Island and Connecticut are even more stubborn than the rest, hate all true subjects of the Queen, and will not give a farthing to the war so long as they can help it.^ Each province lived in selfish isolation, recking little of its neighbor's woes. > Schuyler, CohnM New Yorh, I 431, 432. « Co'oncl Qiiari/ to the Lords of Tmrfs, 16 June, 1703. • Cornbury to the Lords of Trade, September, 1703. 1700-1703.] THE FIVE NATIONS. 9 irt )re so I in New York, left to fight her own battles, was in a wretched condition for defence. It is true that, unlike the other colonies, the King had sent her a few soldiers, counting at this time about one hundred ind eighty, all told ; ^ but they had been left so long without pay that they were in a state of scandalous destitution. They would have been left without rations had not three private gentlemen — Schuyler, Livingston, and Cortlandt — advanced money for their supplies, which seems never to have been repaid.2 They are reported to have been "without shirts, breeches, shoes, or stockings," and "in such a shameful condition that the women when passing them are obliged to cover their ej^es." " The Indians ask," says the governor, "'Do you think us such fools as to believe that a king who cannot clothe his soldiers can protect us from the French, with their fourteen hundred men all well equipped ? ' " 3 The forts were no better than their garrisons. The governor complains that those of Allnny iind Schenec- tady "are so weak and ridiculous that «hey look more like pounds for cattle than forts." At Albany the rotten stockades were falling from their own weight. If New York had cause to complain of those whom she sheltered, she herself gave cause of complaint to those who sheltered her. The Five Nations of the Iroquois had always been her allies against the » Bellomont to the Lords of Trade, 28 February, 1700. a Ibid. • Schuyler, Colonial New York, i. 488. 10 EVE OF WAR. [1700-170.']. ( ! ifi 1''nMu^li, liad j]ruin*(l»Ml her bordiTfl nnd f«ni;.rlil, Ikt l).Ulloa. Wliiit llicy wimtod in rrlurn wci'o cill.', iHl(Mj(iouM, jiisl (IciilinjifM, jind nrtivo iiid in war; l)iit thoy i^ol \\\v\\\ iii NcMiit nuMMurc. 'I'Iumv (rciitiiuMit h-r dh' prnvinro av>!> mIidiI-; i;';ii((Mi, if not un^^ralvfiil. Now York w,;m a niixliiro of mccs and rolij^nonM not ypt {\\AC(\ inio a liaiinonionM body politic, divided in iutiMVMt^ an|Ium1 with such j>rcsents as could bo got from unwilling legislators, or now and then from the Crown, and exhorted to tight vigorously in tlie connnon cause. The ease would have becMJ far worse but f«n' a few patriotic men, with Peter Schuyler at their head, who understood the character of these Indians, and labored strenuously to keep them in what was called their allegiance. The proud and tierce confederates had suffered greatly in the late war. Their numbers had been reduced about one half, and they now counted little more than twelve hundred warriors. Tiiey had / y y y iir 111 led Ion lie lad i7on-ro;i.i jKsriTs and MiNrs'n:!{s. 11 ! 'iU'iu'd ;i Itill T ii'id linmiliiiUii'^ Icmhom, aiwl tJicir lli'n);^riiiic(^ li.ul ('li;ui'_j('«l IfMli Ui'H;4inMl alanii. 'i'lioii^^li liiil.iii;; (lio I''r(Mi('li, (li"y Iiii'l IciiriKMl to icMjicct their inilil.iry uclivily iiiid pi-owcH.^, uiid lo look iiHluiiicd on K\\(\ Dnirh iind Kn;'fli^Ii, who nircly Hlnid; ji lilow in (iu'ir (hd'sMjcc, iiinl miiITi'ImmI l,li(>ir licnMlil iry cnciiiy to Wiiatci (h'ii* \\A<\\ anil Imrn Ih'-ir Iowmm. 'I'hc Kn;^lii-th called tlio V\\k^. Nations Uritish HnltjcctH, on wliicii tiio l^'rcMich lanntcd tlicni willi Ix'in^ lirilish BhiV(\s, \\\v\ toM thiMii (h;i.t Hh^ ''^■'•K '*' Knf^daiid hud ordoRMl tho f^ov(>riior of New Voi-k t(» j)oiHon them. Thw invention had giHvit elToet. Tlio IroqnoiH capital, Onondi^M, was nUed with wihl nitnorH. Tiio crodnh)nM saviijT'c^i wcro to.sKcd among donlits, sn-spieioiiH, and IVarH. Solium were in terror of [)oiKon, tind Home of witelieraft. Tiicy heli(^ved tliMt tin; rival lCurop(!an nations liad leagued to (lestroy them and divide their lands, and (hat they were hewitehed hy Boreerers, l);)th Frent'li and ICnglish.* Aftcu* tiie I'eaee of IJyswiek, and even Ixforc it, the FnMieli governor ke|)t agents among Ihem. Some of tluvie wert^ yoldiers, like Joneaire, Mai'ieonrt, or Longueuil, and some were Jesnits, like IJrnya.s, Land)erville, or Vaillant. The Jesnits showed their usnal ability and skill in their diflicult and perilous task. The Indians derived various advantages from their preaenee, winch they regarued also as a flatter- ing attention; while the Engliyh, jealous of their influence, made feeble attempts to counteract it by » iV. r. CW. Docs., iv. 058. 12 EVE OF WAR. [1700-1708. r-. ■ sending Protestant clergymen to Onondaga. " But," writes Lord Beilomont, "it is next to impossible to prevail with the ministers to live among the Indians. They [the Indians] are so nasty as never to wash their hands, or the utensils they dress their victuals with."^ Even had their zeal been proof to these afflictions, the ministers would have been no •-^'^tch for their astute opponents. In vain BelL -ont assured the Indians that the Jesuits were "tlio greatest lyars and impostors in the world. "^ In vain he offered a hundred dollars for every one of them whom they should deliver into his hands. They would promise to expel them ; but their minds were divided, and they stood in fear of one another. While one party distrusted and disliked the priests, another was begging the governor of Canada to send more. Others took a practical view of the que 'ion. "If the English sell goods cheaper than the 1 ""h, we will have ministers; if the French sell them cheaper than the English, we will have priests." Others, again, wanted neither Jesuits nor ministers, "because both of jou [English and French] have made us drunk with the noise of your praying. "^ The aims of the propagandists on both sides were secular. The French wished to keep the Five Nations neutral in the event of another war; the ■ll * BrUomont to fhft Lords of Trade, 17 October, 1700. * Conference of BrUomont with the Indians, 23 Atifj'inf, 1700. * Journal of Bleeker and iSchu>jler on their visit to Onondaga, August, September, 1701. 'U\ 1700-1703.J THE CAUGHNAWAGAS. 13 ts. ?rs, lave rere 'ive I the ijust, English wished to spur them to active hostility; but while the former pursued their purpose with f ru.>rgy and skill, tho off a-ts of the latter were iutv.'raittent and generally tVuble. "The Nations," writes Schuyler, "are full of fac- tions." There was a French party and an Ent^lish party in eveiy town, especially in Onondaga, the centre of intrigue. French influence was stronryest at the western end of the confederacy, among the Senecas, whero the French otheer Joncaire, an Iroquois by adoption, had won many to France ; ar.d it was weakest at the eastern end, among the Mohawks, who were nearest to the English settle- ments. Here the Jesuits had labored long and strenuously in the work of conversion, and from time to time they had led their numerous proselytes to remove to Canada, where they settled at St. Louis, or Caughnawaga, on the right bank of the St. Lawrence, a little above Montreal, where their descendants still remain. It is said that at the beginning of the eighteenth century two-thirds of the Mohawks had thus been persuaded to cast their lot with the French, and from enemies to become friends and allies. Some of the Oneidas and a few of the other Iroquois nations joined them and strengthened the new mission settlement; and the Caughnawagas afterwards played an important part between tha rival European colonies. The "Far Indians," or "Upper Nations," as the French called them, consisted of the tribes of the \> 'II Kl t ' ,1 r !■ Iti ;i A^ i! t ;l i' i 'I I I. I I 14 EVE OF WAR. [1700^1703. Great Lakes and adjacent regions, Ottawas, Potta- wattamies, Sacs, Foxes, Sioux, and many more. It was from these that Canada drew the furs by which she lived. Most of them were nominal friends and allies of the French, who in the interest of trade strove to keep these wild-cats from tearing one an- other's throats, and who were in constant alarm lest they should again come to blows with their old ene- mies, the Five Nations, in which case they would call on Canada for help, thus imperilling those pacific relations with the Iroquois confederacy which the French were laboring constantly to secure. In regard to the "Far Indians," the French, the English, and the Five Iroquois Nations all had dis- tinct and opposing interests. The French wished to engross their furs, either by inducing the Indians to bring them down to Montreal, or by sending traders into their country to buy them. The Eng- lish, with a similar object, wished to divert the " Far Indians" from Montreal and draw them to Albany; but this did not suit the purpose of the Five Nations, who, being sharp politicians and keen traders, as well as bold and enterprising warriors, wished to act as middle-men between the beaver-hunting tribes and the Albany merchants, well knowing that good profit might thus accrue. In this state of affairs the con- verted Iroquois settled at Caughnawaga played a peculiar part. In the province of New York, goods for the Indian trade were of excellent quality and comparatively abundant and cheap ; while among the 1700-1713.] ILLICIT TRADE. 16 id 1)11- a |)ds nd Ihe French, especially in time of war, they were often scarce and dear. The Caughnawagas accordingly, whom neither the English nor the French dared offend, used their position to carry on a contraband trade between New York and Canada. By way of Lake Champlain and the Hudson they brought to Albany furs from the country of the "Far Indians," and exchanged them lor guns, blankets, cloths, knives, beads, and the like. These they carried to Canada and sold to the French traders, who in this way, and often in this alone, supplied themselves with the goods necessary for bartering furs from the "Far Indians." This lawless trade of the Caughnawagas went on even in time of war; and opposed as it was to every principle of Canadian policy, it was generally connived at by the French authorities as the only means of obtaining the goods necessary for keeping their Indian allies in good humor. It was injurious to English interests ; but the fur- traders of Albany and also the commissioners charged with Indian affairs, being Dutchmen converted by force into British subjects, were, with a few eminent exceptions, cool in their devotion to the British Crown; while the merchants of the port of New York, from whom the fur-traders drew their sup- plies, thought more of their own profits than of the public good. The trade with Canada through the Caughnawagas not only gave aid and comfort to the enemy, but continually admitted spies into the U^.r»l ,^.53 •'I II 16' EVE OF WAR. [1700-1707. ^tl '^. i! I'l 'I colony, from wliom the governor of Canada gained information touching English moveinents and designs. The Dutch traders of Albany and the importing merchants who supplied them with Inchan goods had a strong interest in preventing active hostilities with Canada, which would have spoiled their trade. So, too, and for similar reasons, had influential persons in Canada. The French authorities, moreover, thought it impolitic to harass the frontiers of New York by war parties, since the Five Nations might come to the aid of their Dutch and I glish allies, and so break the peaceful relations which the French were anxious to maintain with them. Thus it hap- pened that, during the first six or seven years of the eighteenth century, there was a virtual truce between Canada and New York, and the whole burden of the war fell upon New England, or rather upon Massa- chusetts, with its outlying district of Maine and its small and Aveak neighbor. New Hampshire.^ 1 The foregoing chapter rests on numerous documents in the Public Record Office, Archives de la Marine, Archives Nationalcs, N. Y. Colonial Documents, vols. iv. v. ix., and the Second and llurd Series of the Correspondtmce 0,ffir!elle at Ottawa. HI -m Hi ii! : I COUNT FRONTENAC P'i AND NEW FRANCE UNDER LOUIS XIV. CHAPTER I. 1620-1672. COUNT AND COUNTESS FRONTENAC. B£adbmoiselle de Montpensier and Madame de Froktenac. — Orleans. — The Mar&chale de Cami', — Count Frontenac. — Conjugal Disputes. — Early Life of Frontenac : ins Courtship and Marriage. — Estrangement. — Scenes at St. Faroeau. — The Lady of Honor Dismissed. — Frontenac as A Soldier: he is madr Governor of New France. — Les Divines. At Versailles there is the portrait of a lady, beau- tiful and young. She is painted as Minerva, a plumed helmet on her head, and a shield on her arm. In a corner of the canvas is written, "Anne de La Grange-Trianon, Comtesse de Frontenac." This blooming goddess was the wife of the ft.ture gov- ernor of Canada. Madame de Frontenac, at the age of about twenty, was a favorite companion of Mademoiselle de Mont- pensier, the grand-daughter of Henry IV. and daughter I I 1 1 'C'i ■■•> ' ^ l^T: ¥ 4 COUNT AND COUNTESS FRONTENAC. [1652. of the weak and dastarcLy Gaston, Duke of Orleans. Notliinr. A powerful French contin.trciit, tinUr anotlicr (.•oiiiniand.co-oporatc'I with the Venetians under Frontenac. if- M'V 14 COUNT AND COUNTESS FRONTENAC. [1672. Three years later, Frontenac received the appoint- ment of Governor and Lleutenant-General for the King in all New France. "He was," says Saint- Simon, "a man of excellent parts, living much in society, and completely ruined. He found it hard to bear the imperious temper of his wife ; and he was given the government of Canada to deliver him from her, and afford him some means of living." ^ Certain scandalous songs of the day assign a different motive for his appointment. Louis XIV. was enamoured of Madame de Montespan. She had once smiled upon Frontenac; and it is said that the jealous King gladly embraced the opportunity of removing from his presence, and from hers, a lover who had fore- stalled him.* I'- ll I * M^moires du Due de Saint-Simon, ii. 270 ; v. 836. * Note of M. Brunet, in Correspondance de la Duchesse d'OrUans, i. 200 (ed. 1869). The following lines, among others, were passed about secretly among the courtiers : — " Je suis ravi que le roi, notre sire, Aime la Montespan ; Moi, Frontenac, je me cr^ve de rire, Sachant ce qui lui pend ; £t je dirai, sans etre des plui bestei, Tu n'as que mon reste, Roi, Tu n'as que mon reste." Mademoiselle de Montpensier had mentioned in her memoirs, some years before, that Frontenac, in taking out his handkerchief, dropped from his pocket a love-letter to Mademoiselle de Mortemart, afterwards Madame de Montespan, wliich was picked up by one of the attendants of the princes:'. The King, on the other hand, was 8tly »art, of 1672-1707.] LES DTV12TES. 15 Ine waa Frontenac's wife had no thought of following him across the sea. A more congenial life awaited her at home. She had long had a friend of humbler station than herself, Mademoiselle d'Outrelaise, daughter of an obscure gentleman of Poitou, an amiable and accomplished person, who became through life her constant companion. The extensive building called the Arsenal, formerly the residence of Sully, the minister of Henry IV., contained suites of apart- ments which were granted to persons who had influ- ence enough to obtain them. The Due de Lude, grand-master of artillery, had them at his disposal, and gave one of them to Madame de Frontenac. Here she made her abode with her friend ; and here at last she died, at the age of seventy-five. The annalist Saint-Simon, who knew the court and all belonging to it better than any other man of his time, says of her : " She had been beautiful and gay, and was always in the best society, where she was greatly in request. Like her husband, she had little property and abundant wit. She and Mademoiselle d'Outrelaise, whom she took to live with her, gave the tone to the best company of Paris and the court, thougl they never went thither. They were called Les Divines. In fact, they demanded incense like god- desses; and it was lavished upon them all their lives." at one time attracted by the charms of Madame de Frontenac, against whom, however, no aspersion is cast. The Comte de Grignan, son-in-law of Madame de S^vign^, was an unsuccessful competitor with Frontenac for the government of Canada. m I NBlBHHii 16 COUNT AND COUNTESS FRONTEKAC. [1707. Mademoisollc d'Outrclaise died long before the countess, who retained in old age the rare social gifts which to the last made her apartments a resort of the highest society of tliat brilliant epoch. It was in her power to b(^ very useful to her absent husband, who often needed her support, and who seems to have often received it. She was childless. Her son, Francjois Louis, was killed — some say in battle, and others in a duel — at an early age. Her husband died nine yeara before her; and the old countess left what little she had to her friend Beringhen, the King's master of the horse.* * On Frontenac and his family, see Appendix A. ?- ,<* i 1^'* lA^.i it If!: I \ 1 i i , - '. ' •• i »i ,' i- , ,' ii- If ': \i\p ■ m I .'. CHAPTER I. 1745-1766. THE COMBATANTS. EiiOLAin) IN THK Eighteenth Centdrt : her Political and Social Aspects; her Military Cokdition. — France: her Power and Importanck. — Signs of Decay. — The Court, THB Nobles, the Clerov, the People. — The Kino and Pompadour. — The Philosophers. — Germany. — Prussia. — Frederic II. — Russia. — State of Europe. — War of the Austrian Succession. — American Colonies op France and England. — Contrasted Systems and their Results. — Canada : its Strong Military Position. — French Claims TO the Continent. — British Colonies. — New England. — Virginia. — Pennsylvania. — New York. — Jealousies, Divisions, Internal Disputes. — Military Weakness, III 1 11 i I The latter half of the reign of George II. was one of the most prosaic periods in English history. The civil wars and the Restoration had had tlieir enthusi- asms, religion and liberty on one side, and loyalty on the other; but the old fires declined when William III. came to the throne, and died to ashes under the House of Hanover. Loyalty lost half its inspiration when it lost the tenet of the divine right of kings ; and nobody could now hold that tenet with any con- sistency except the defeated and despairing Jacobites. Nor bad anybody as yet proclaimed the rival dogma 8 THE COMBATAXTS. [1745-1755. l'!i 'i a* m ■ I of the divine right of the people. The reigning monarch hehl his crown neither of God nor of the nation, hut of a parliament controlled by a ruling class. The Whig aristocracy had done a priceless service to Eni;'lish liberty. It was full of political capacity, and l)y no means void of patriotism; but it was only a part of the national life. Nor was it at present moved by political emotions in any high sense. It had done its great work when it expelled the Stuarts and placed William of Orange on the throne; its ascendency was now complete. The Stuarts had received their death-blow at Culloden; and nothing was left to the dominant party but to dispute on subordinate questions, and contend for office among themselves. The Tory squires sulked in their country-houses, hunted foxes, and grumbled against the reigning dynasty, yet hardly wished to see the nation convulsed by a counter-revolution and another return of the Stuarts. If politics had run to commonplace, so had morals ; and so too had religion. Despondent writers of the day even complained that British courage had died out. There Avas little sign to the common eye that, under a dull and languid surface, forces were at work preparing a new life, material, moral, and intel- lectual. As yet, Whitefield and Wesley had not wakened the drowsy conscience of the nation, nor the voice of William Pitt roused it like a trumpet- peal. It was the unwashed and unsavoiy England ol 1745-1755.] ENGLAND. 9 lot lor I of Hogarth, Fielding, Smollett, and Steme; of Tom Jones, Squire AVestern, Lady Bellaston, and Parson Adams; of the "Rake's Progress" and "Marriage ^ la Mode ; " of the lords and ladies who yet live in the undying gossip of Horace Walpole, be-powdered, be-patched, and be-rouged, flirting at masked balls, playing cards till daylight, retailing scandal, and exchanging double meanings. Beau Nash reigned king over the gaming-tables of Bath; the ostrich- plumes of great ladies mingled with the peacock- feathers of courtesans in the rotunda at Ranelagh Gardens; and young lords in velvet suits and em- broidered ruffles played away their patrimony at White's Chocolate-House or Arthur's Club. Vice was bolder than to-day, and manners more courtly, perhaps, but far more coarse. The humbler clergy were thought — sometimes with reason — to be no fit company for gentlemen, and country parsons drank their ale in the squire's kitchen. The passenger-wagon spent the better part of a fortnight in creeping from London to York. Travellei-s carried pistols against footpads and mounted highwaymen. Dick Turpin and Jack Sheppard were popular heroes. Tyburn counted its victims by scores; and as yet no Howard had ap- peared to reform the inhuman abominations of the prisons. The middle class, though fast rising in importance, was feebly and imperfectly represented in Parliament. The boroughs were controlled by the nobility and it 1- I'. '1 If l! , 10 THE COMBATANTS. [1745-1755. gentry, or by corporations open to influence or bribery. Parliamentary corruption had been reduced to a system; and offices, sinecures, pensions, and gifts of money were freely used to keep ministers in power. The great oflSces of State were held by men sometimes of high ability, but of whom not a few divided their lives among politics, cards, wine, horse- racing, and women, till time and the gout sent them to the waters of Bath. The dull, pompous, and irascible old King had two ruling passions, — money, and his Continental dominions of Hanover. His elder son, the Prince of Wales, was a centre of oppo- sition to him. His younger son, the Duke of Cum- berland, a character far more pronounced and vigorous, had won the day at Culloden, and lost it at Fontenoy ; but whether victor or vanquished, had shown the same vehement bull-headed courage, of late a little subdued by fast-growing corpulency. The Duke of Newcastle, the head of the government, had gained power and kept it by his rank and connections, his wealth, his county influence, his control of boroughs, and the extraordinary assiduity and devotion with which he practised the arts of corruption. Henry Fox, grasping, unscrupulous, with powerful talents, a warm friend after his fashion, and a most indulgent father; Carteret, with his strong, versatile intellect and jovial intrepidity; the two Townshends, Mans- field, Halifax, and Chesterfield, — were conspicuous figures in the politics of the time. One man towered above them all. Pitt had many enemies and many la.i a 1745-1766.] FRAITCE. II critics. They called him ambitious, audacious, arro- gant, theatrical, pompous, domineering ; but what he has left for posterity is a loftiness of soul, undaunted courage, fiery and passionate eloquence, proud incor- ruptibility, domestic virtues rare in his day, un- bounded faith in the cause for which he stood, and abilities which without wealth or strong connections were destined to place him on the height of power. The middle class, as yet almost voiceless, looked to him as its champion ; but he was not the champion of a class. His patriotism was as comprehensive as it was haughty and unbending. He lived for England, loved her with intense devotion, knew her, believed in her, and made her greatness his own; or rather, he was himself England incarnate. The nation was not then in fighting equipment. After the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, the army within the three kingdoms had been reduced to about eigh- teen thousand men. Added to these were the gar- risons of Minorca and Gibraltar, and six or seven independent companies in the American colonies. Of sailors, less than seventeen thousand were left in the Royal Navy. Such was the condition of England on the eve of one of the most formidable wars in which she was ever engaged. Her rival across the Channel was drifting slowly and unconsciously towards the cataclysm of the Revolution ; yet the old monarchy, full of the germs of decay, was still imposing and formidable. The • !» il ''.'■ ' ,1 \i ■4 I 12 THE COMBATANTS. [1746-1766. House of Bourbon held the three thrones of France, Spain, and Naples; and tlieir threatened union in a family compact was the terror of European diplomacy. At home France was the foremost of the Continental nations; and she boasted herself second only to Spain as a colonial power. She disputed with Eng- land the mastery of India, owned the islands of Bourbon and Mauritius, held important possessions in the West Indies, and claimed all North America except Mexico and a strip of sea-coast. Her navy was powerful, her army numerous and well appointed ; but she lacked the great commanders of the last reign. Soubise, Maillebois, Contades, Broglie, and Clermont were but weak successora of Condd, Turenne, Ven- dome, and Villars. Marshal Richelieu was supreme in the arts of gallantry, and more famous for con- quests of love than of war. The best generals of Louis XV. were foreigners. Lowendal sprang from the royal house of Denmark ; and Saxe, the best of all, was one of the three hundred and fifty-four bas- tards of Augustus the Strong, Elector of Saxony and King of Poland. He »vas now, 1750, dying at Cham- bord, his iron constitution ruined by debaucheries. The triumph of the Bourbon monarchy was com- plete. The government had become one great ma- chine of centralized administration, ^/ith a king for its head ; though a king who neither could nor would direct it. All strife was over between the Crown and the nobles ; feudalism was robbed of its vitality, and left the mere image of its former self, with noth- if H 1745-1755.] FRANCE. 13 la- Eor lid rn th- ing alive but its abuses, its caste privileges, its ex- actions, its pride and vanity, its power to vex iuu\ oppress. In England, the nobility were a living part of the nation, and it' they had privileges, they paid for them by constant service to the State; in France, they had no political life, and were separated from the people by sharp lines of demarcation. From warrior chiefs, tliey had ilianged to courtiers. Those of them who could al'ford it, and many who could not, left their estates to the mercy of stewards, and gathered at Versailles to revolve about the throne as glittering satellites, paid in pomp, empty distinctions, or rich sinecures, for tiie power they had lost. They ruined their vassals to support the extravagance by which they ruined themselves. Such as stayed at home were objects of pity and scorn. " Out of your Majesty's presence," said one of them, "we are not only wretched, but ridiculous." Versailles was like a vast and gorgeous theatre, where all were actors and spectators at once ; and all played their parts to perfection. Here swarmed by thousands this silken nobility, whose ancestors rode cased in iron. Pageant followed pageant. A picture of the time preserves for us an evening in the great hall of the Chateau, where the King, with piles of louis d'or before him, sits at a large oval green table, throwing the dice, among princes and princesses, dukes and duchesses, ambassadors, marshals of France, and a vast throng of courtiers, like an ani- mated bed of tulips ; for men and women alike wear rv- ssssam hf* I/I ll Hi: ■ t I. (I il A im ll!! ' i]. 1 hi i 1 ■ ; { 'I . h ^ 1 14 THE COMBATANTS. [1745-1755. bright and varied colons. Above are the frescoes of Le Brun ; around are walls of sculptured and inlaid marbles, with mirrors that reflect the restless splendors of the scene and the blaze of chandeliers, sparkling with crystal pendants. Pomp, ni.igiiificence, profu- sion, were a business and a duty at the Court. Versailles was a gulf into which the labor of France poured its earnings ; and it was never full. Here tlie graces and charms were a political power. Women had prodigious influence, and the two sexes were never more alike. Men not only dressed in colors, but they wore patches and carried muffs. The robust oaalities of the old nobility still lingered among the exiles of the provinces, while at Court they had meiced into refinements tainted with corrup- tion. Yet if the butterflies of Versailles had lost virility, they had not lost courage. They fought as gayly as they danced. In the halls which they haunted of yore, turned now into a historical picture- gallery, one sees them still, on the canvas of Lenfant, Lepaon, or Vernet, facing death with careless gal- lantr}', in their small three-cornered hats, powdered porukes, embroidered coats, and lace ruflles. Their valets served them with ices in the trenches, under the cannon of besieged towns. A troop of actors formed part of the army-train of Marshal Saxe. At night there was a comedy, a ballet, or a ball, and in the morning a battle. Saxe, however, himself a sturdy German, while he recognized their fighting value, and knew well how to make the best of it, 1745-1755.] FRANCE. 15 in a lUg it, sometimes complained that they were volatile, excit- able, and difficult to manage. The weight of the Court, with its pomps, luxuries, and wars, bore on the c hisses least able to support it. The poorest were taxed most; the richest not at all. The nobles, in the main, were free from imposts. The clergy, who had vast possessions, were wholly free, though they consented to make voluntary gifts to the Crown; and when, in a time of emergency, the minister Machault required them, in common with all others hitherto exempt, to contribute a twentieth of their revenues to the charges of govern- ment, they passionately refused, declaring that they would obey God rather than the King. The culti- vators of the soil were ground to the earth by a threefold extortion, — the seigniorial dues, the tithes of the Church, and the multiplied exactions of tlio Cro^vn, enforced with merciless rigor by the farmers of the revenue, who enriched themselves by wring- ing the peasant on the one hand, and cheating the King on the other. A few great cities shone witli all that is most brilliant in society, intellect, and concentred wealth; while the country that paid tlie costs lay in ignorance and penury, crushed and despairing. On the inhabitants of towns, too, the demands of the tax-gatherer were extreme ; but here the immense vitality of the French people bore up the burden. While agriculture languished, ana intolerable oppression turned peasants into beggara or desperadoes ; while the clergy were sapped by cor- !l i 3'!' M..' ■*. yi I iii li' 16 THE COMBATANTS. [1745-1755. ruption, and the nobles enervated by luxury and ruined by extravagance, — the middle class was grow- ing in thrift and strength. Arts and commerce pros- pered^ and the seaports were alive with foreign trade. Wealth tended from all sides towards the centre. The King did not love his capital; but he and his favorites amused themselves with adorning it. Some of the chief embellishments that make Paris what it is to-day — the Place de la Concorde, the Champs Elys^es, and many of the palaces of the Faubourg St. Germain — date from this reign. One of the /''nious conditions of the time was the separation in sympathies and interests of the four grtiw classes of the nation, — clergy, nobles, burghers, and peasants ; and each of these, again, divided itself into incoherent fragments. France was an aggregate of disjointed parts, held together by a meshwork of arbitrary power, itself touched with decay. A dis- astrous blow was struck at the national welfare when the government of Louis XV. revived the odious persecution of the Huguenots. The attempt to scour heresy out of France cost her the most industrious and virtuous part of her population, and robbed her of those most fit to resist the mocking scepticism and turbid passions that Ijurst out like a deluge with the Revolution. Her manifold ills were summed up in the King. Since the Valois, she had liad no monarch so worth- less. He did not want understanding, still less the graces of person. In his youth the people called him ',! 1 1745-1755.] FRANCE. 17 )ur ler lie PS- rth- Ithe him the " Well-beloved ; " but by the middle of the cen- tury they so detested him that he dared not pass through Paris, lest the mob should execrate him. He ha 1 not the vigor of the true tyrant; but his languor, his hatred of all effort, his profound sciiish- ness, his listless disregard of public duty^ and his effeminate libertinism, mixed with superstitions (Wxo- tion, made him no less a national curse. Louis XIII. was equally unfit to govern; but he gave the reins to the Great Cardinal. Louis XV. abandoned them to a frivolous mistress, content that she should rule on condition of amusing him. It was a hard task; yet Madame de Pompadour accomplished it by methods infamous to him and to her. She gained and long kept tlie power that she coveted : filled the Bastille with her enemies; made and unmade ministers; appointed and removed generals. Great questions of policy were at the mercy of her caprices. Through her frivolous vanity, her personal likes and dislikes, all the great departments of government — army, navy, war, foreign affairs, justice, finance — changed from hand to hand incessantly, and this at a time of crisis when the kingdom needed the steadiest and surest guidance. Few of the officers of State, except, perhaps, D'Argenson, could venture to disregard her. She turned out Orry, the comptroller-general, put her favorite, Machault, into his place, then made him keeper of the seals, and at last minister of marine. The Marquis de Puysieux, in the ministry- of foreign affaira, and the Comte de Saint-Florentin, ▼OL. I. — 2 I ^|t \ li TT?K COMBATANTS. I .<* II Fi ^ I [1745-17:).-) ohnr^pd with tlio nlTairH of (lio olorgy, took lluMrcp" from hor. Tlio Kin^ stifilod hrr in nothing. I-'IimI junl Inst, slu» is HM'koiuMl lo \m\v (m»h( liiin thiil)- HJx ir.iilion fmiu\s, — iiii8\vi?ring now to more than as luanv «lollars. 'l'h(' pr('sliiJ(» of the nionaivhy was (h^'liiiing with Ihc ideas (hat had ^ivcn it hfo and stion^th. /\ ^rowiji^- disrespect for King, ministry, and ehM'^i^y was heginninjr to prepare (he eatastroplie that was still som«^ l"or(y years in the fijturo. VVhih (he valleys and low plaees of (he lleas\nes of (h«' mind a« well as of Uio sensivs, oriti»Msii\g evivN thing, analyzing everything, hidiev- ing nothing. Voltaire was in the midst of it, hating, with all his vehement sonl, the ahnsoa that swarmed al)«nit him. an»l assailing tluMn with the inoxhaustihle shafts of his restless and pieit'ing intellect. Montes- (piiiMi was showing t(> a "rt were hcginning their rcvt>lntionary l-'iu-yolopjodia. Koussoau was sounding the thst notes of his mail eloquonius — the wiUi revolt of a passionate and dis- cascil genius against a world i^f falsities and wrong;;. The .f'llotis of Paris, (>l«»ye«l nmiIi other pl(Nisnn\s, alive to all that was lacy and niMv, weIconi»'d the jMingiMU doctrines, and played \Mth them as chiUlrcMi play with tire, thinking no danger; as time went on, evou embraced them in a gtuuiuu spirit of hope and 1746-1755.} TIIK HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE. 19 good-will for humanity. TIio Revolution bof^aii nt tlio top, — in tlio world of fuHliion, l»irtli, and iiit*!- liM't, — and propa^nUcd il.solf downwards. " \V(i walked on a caritcl nl' llKWcrs," (!omit Srj^iir iiflcr- wnrdH Raid, " nnconscitniH lliat i( ('.ovcrcd nii iiliyss;" till the gulf yawned sit last, and swallowed th(!ni. Ij ul Eastward, heyond the l{l>iiH>, lay (lie heterogeneons patchwork of the Holy Roman, or (icrninnic, l'jnj)iie. The Racred honds Hint tliroiifrlKMit tli(^ Middle Afic:; had held togcUlier lis iiimniuMiihle fr}ij.(nientH liiid lost their strength. The empire dccnycd as a whole; hut not Ro the parts that composed it. In the sonth the House of Austria r(>igned over a forniiduhle assem- blage of States; and in the north the House of Rrandenhurg, promoted to royalty half a eentury liefore, liad raised l^russia into an importance far heyond her extent and population. In her dissevered rags of territory lay the destinies of Germany. It way the late King, that honest,, thrifty, dogged, head- strong despot, Frederic VVilliaui, who had nuide his kingdom what it was, tniined it to the perfection of drill, and left it to his son, Frederic II., the hcst engine of war in Furoi)e. l^'rccleric himself liiid passed between the up[)er and nether millstones ol' paternal discipline. Never did piince undergo such an apprenticeship. His father 8vl him to tlie work of an overseer, or steward. Hung [)lates at his Ik ad in the family circle, thrashed him with his rattan in pa])lic, bullied him for submitting to such treatment, fl \ y hi 20 THE COMBATANTS. [1745-1755. and imprisoned hira for trying to run away from it. He came at last out of purj^atory ; and Europe felt him to her farthest bounds. This bookish, philoso- phizing, vei-se-making cynic and profligate was soon to approve himself the first warrior of his time, and one of the first of all time. M Another power had lately risen on the European world. Peter the Groat, liulf hero, half savage, had roused the inert barbarism of Russia into a titanic life. His daughter Elizabeth had succeeded to his throne, — heiress of his sensuality, if not of his talents. H •If 1!^ i1 Over all the continent the aspect of the times was the same. Power had everywhere left the phiins and the lower slopes, and gathered at the summits. Popular life was at a stand. No great idea stirred the nations to tlieir deptlis. The religious convul- sions of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries were over, and the earthquake of the French Revolution had not begun. At the middle of the eighteenth century the history of Europe turned on the balance of power; the observance of treaties; inheritance and succession; rivalries; of soverpign housos struggling to win pnv.cr or kjup it, t;iicroach on neighbors, or prevent neighbors from encroaching; bargains, in- trigue, force, diplomacy, and the musket, in the interest not of peoples but of rulers. Princes, great and small, brooded over some real or fancied wrong. 1745-1755.] THE STATE OF EUROPE. 21 or lie nursed some dubious claim born of a mamage, a will, or an ancient covenant fished out of the abyss of time, and watched their moment to make it good. The general opi)()rtunity came when, in 1740, the Emperor Charles VI. died and bequeathed his per- sonal dominions of the House of Austria to his daughter, Maria Theresa. The chief Powers of Europe had been pledged in advance to sustain the will; and pending the event, the veteran Prince Eugene had said that two hundred thousand soldiers would be worth all their guaranties together. The two hundred thousand were not there, and not a sov- ereign kept his word. They flocked to share the spoil, and parcel out the motley heritage of the young Queen. Frederic of Piussia led the way, invaded her province of Silesia, seized it, and kept it. The Elector of Bavaria and the King of Spain claimed their share, and the Elector of Saxony and the King of Sardinia prepared to follow the example. France took part with Bavaria, and intrigued to set the imperial crown on the head of the Elector, think- ing to ruin her old enemy, the House of Austria, and rule Germany through an emperor too weak to dis- pense with her support. England, jealous of her designs, trembling for the balance of power, and anxious for the Hanoverian possessions of her King, threw herself into the strife on the side of Austria. It was now that, in the Diet at Presburg, the beauti- ful and distressed Queen, her infant in her arms, made her memorable appeal to the wild chivalry of 11 ».!-■ iff' I*' '' ' ■ ■* 22 THE COMBATANTS. [1745-1755. her Hungarian nobles; and, clashing their swords, they shouted with one voice: "Let us die for our king, Maria Theresa ; " Moriamur pro rege nostro^ Maria Theresid, — one of the most dramatic scenes in history; not quite true, perhaps, but near the truth. Then came that confusion worse confounded called the war of the Austrian Succession, with its Mollwitz, its Dettingen, its I'\)ntenoy, and its Scotch episode of Culloden. The peace of Aix-la-Chapelle closed the strife in 1748. Europe had time to breathe ; but the germs of discord remained alive. n ul ■ \ M THE AMERICAN COMBATANTS. The French claimed all America, from the Alle- ghaiiies to the Rocky Mountains, and from Mexico and Florida to the North Pole, except only the ill- defined possessions of the English on the bordei-s of Hudson Bay; and to these vast regions, with adja- cent islands, they gave the general name of New France. They controlled the highways of the con- tinent, for they held its two great rivers. First, they had seized the St. Lawrence, and then planted them- selves at the mouth of the Mississippi. Canada at the north, and Louisiana at the south, were the keys of a boundless interior, rich with incalculable possi- bilities. The English colonies, ranged along the Atlantic coast, had no royal road to the great inland, and were, in a manner, shut between the mountains and the sea. At the middle of the century they 1745-1755.] FRENCH COLONIES. 23 ley iin- at Leys the Incl, liiis [hey numbered in call, from Georgia to Maine, about eloven hundred and sixty thousand white inhabitants. By the census of 1754 Canada had but jifty-five thou- sand.^ Add those of Louisiana and Acadia, and tlio whole white population under the French liag* might be something more than eighty thousand. Here is an enormous disparity; and hence it has been argued that the success of the English colonies and the failure of the French was not due to difference of religious and political systems, but simply to numeri- cal preponderance. But this preponderance itself grew out of a difference of systems. We have said before, and it cannot be said too often, that in mak- ing Canada a citadel of the State rGli;^ion, — a holy of holies of exclusive Roman Catholic orthodoxy, — the clerical monitors of the Crown robbed their coun- tiy of a transatlantic empire. New France could not grow with a priest on guard at the gate to let in none but such as pleased him. One of the ablest of Canadian governors. La Galissonifere, seeing the feebleness of the colony compared with the vastness of its claims, advised the King to send ten thousand peasants to occupy the valley of the Ohio, and hol.l back the British swarm that was just then pushino- its advance-guard over the AUeghanies. It needed no effort of the King to people his waste domain, not with ten thousand peasants, but with twenty 1 Censuses of Canada, iv. 01. Ki»niean {fji Fiuvire aiix Culnniti:, ii. 81) estimates the Canatlian population, in l7o5, at sixty-six thou- sand, besides voi/a^eurs, Indian traders, etc, Vaudreuil, in 1700, places it at seventy thousand. 24 THE COMBATANTS. 1 14 I ' I. t i ' n i I !i' II :i [1746-1755. times ten thousand Frenchmen of every station, — the most industrious, most instructed, most dis- ciplined by adversity and capable of self-rule, that the country could boast. While La Galissoni^re was asking for colonists, the agents of the Crown, set on by priestly fanaticism, or designing selfishness masked with fanaticism, were pouring volleys of musketry into Huguenot congregations, imprisoning for life those innocent of all but their faith, — the men in the galleys, the women in the pestiferous dungeons of Aigues Mortes, — hanging their ministers, kidnapping thnir children, and reviving, in shorty the dragonnades. Now, as in the past century, many of the victims escaped to the British colonies, and became a part of them. The Huguenots would have hailed as a boon the permission to emigrate under the fleur-de-lis. and build up a Protestant France in the valleys of tlie West. It would have been a bane of absolutism, but a national glory; would have set bounds to English colonization, and changed the face of the continent. The opportunity was spurned. The dominant (Church clung to its policy of rule and ruin. France built its best colony on a principle of exclusion, and failed ; England reversed the system, and succeeded. I have shown elsewhere the aspects of Canada, where a rigid scion of the old European tree was set to grow in the wilderness. The military governor, holding his miniature court on the rock of Quebec; the feudal proprietors, whose domains lined the 1745-1755.] CANADA. 26 shores of the St. Lawrence; the peasant; the roving bushranger; the half-tamed savage, with crucifix and acalping-knife; priests; friars; nuns; and sokliers, — mingled to form a society the most picturesque on the continent. What distinguished it from the France that produced it was a total absence of revolt against the laws of its being, — an absolute conser- vatism, an unquestioning acceptance of Church and King. The Canadian, ignorant of everything but what the priest saw fit to teach him, had never heard of Voltaire; and if he had known him, would have thought him a devil. He had, it is true, a spirit of insubordination born of the freedom of the forest; but if his instincts rebelled, his mind and soul were passively submissive. The unchecked control of a hierarchy robbed him of the independence of intellect and character, without which, under the conditions of modern life, a people mast resign itself to a posi- tion of inferiority. Yet Canada had a vigor of her own. It was not in spiritual deference only that she differed from the country of her birth. Whatever she had caught of its corruptions, she had caught nothing of its effeminacy. The mass of her people lived in a rude poverty, — not abject, like the peasant of old France, nor ground down by the tax-gatherer; while those of the higher ranks — all more or less en- gaged in pursuits of war or adventure, and inured to rough journeyings and forest exposures — were rugged as their climate. Even the French regular troops, sent out to defend the colony, caught its 'I 1^ ^ 1 &. O'."^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 I ■^ 1^ 12.2 u 124 tio 111112.0 1.8 ^.m — 6" V] <9 /i /: / ^^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. M5B0 (716)872-4503 \ iV \\ [v ^^V 6^ •ii^ <\ 6^ 26 THE COMBATANTS. ;<- M' i [1715-1755. hardy spirit, and set an example of stubborn fight- ing which their comrades at home did not alwaj'S emulate. Canada lay ensconced behind rocks and forests. All along her southern boundaries, between her and her English foes, lay a broad tract of wilderness, shaggy with primeval woods. Innumerable streams gurgled beneath their shadows; innumerable lakes gleamed in the fiery sunsets ; innumerable mountains bared their rocky foreheads to the wind. These wastes were ranged by her savage allies, — ]\licmacs, Etech<^mins, Abenakis, Caughnawagas ; and no enemy could steal upon her unawares. Through the midst of them stretched Lake Champlain, pointing straight to the heart of the British settlements, — a watery thoroughfare of mutual attack, and the only approach by which, without a long detmr by wilder- ness or sea, a hostile army could come within striking distance of the colony. The French advanced post of Fort Frederic, called Crown Point by the English, barred the narrows of the lake, which thence spread northward to the portals of Canada guarded by Fort St. Jean. Southwestward, some fourteen hundred miles as a bird flies, and twice as far by the prac- ticable routes of travel, was Louisiana, the second of the two heads of New France ; while between lay the realms of solitude where the Mississippi rolled its sullen tide, and the Ohio wound its belt of silver through the verdant woodlands. To whom belonged this world of prairies and 1745-1755.] NEW RNGLAND. 27 forests? France claimed it by right of discovery and occupation. It was her explorers who, after De Soto, lirst set foot on it. The question of right, it is true, mattered little; for, right or wrong, neither claimant would yield her pretensions so long as she had strength to uphold them ; yet one point is worth a moment's notice. The Frencli had established an excellent system in the distribution of their American lands. Whoever received a grant from the Crown was required to improve it, and this within reasonable time. If he did not, the land ceased to be his, and was given to another more able or industrious. An international extension of her own principle would have destroyed the pretensions of France to all the countries of the West. She had called them hers for three-fourths of a century, and they were still a howl- ing waste, yielding nothing to civilization but beaver- skins, with here and there a fort, trading-post, or mission, and three or four puny hamlets by the Mis- sissippi and the Detroit. We have seen how she might have made for herself, an indisputable title, and peopled the solitudes with a host to maintain it. She would not; others were at hand who both would and could; and the late claimant, disinherited and forlorn, would soon be left to count the cost of her bigotry. and The thirteen British colonies were alike, insomuch as they all had representative governments, and a basis of English law. But the differences among ii III 'W 1^ ll ::f 'in ")■'■■> 'H f I 28 THE COMBATANTS. [1745-1755. them were great. Soine were purely English ; others were made up of various races, though the Anglo- Saxon was always predominant. Some had one pre- vailing religious creed; others had many creeds. Some had charters, and some had not. In most cases the governor was appointed by the Crown; in Penn- sylvania and Maryland he was appointed by a feudal proprietor, and in Connecticut and Rhode Island he was chosen by the people. The differences of dispo- sition and character were still greater than those of form. The four northern colonies, known collectively as New England, were an exception to the general rule of diversity. The smallest, Rhode Island, had feat- ures all its own ; but the rest were substantially one in nature and origin. The pi-incipal among them, Massachusetts, may serve as the type of all. It was a mosaic of little village republics, firmly cemented together, and formed into a single body politic through representatives sent to the " General Court " at Boston. Its government, originally theocratic, now tended to democracy, ballasted as yet by strong traditions of respect for established worth and ability, as well as by the influence of certain families prominent in affairs for generations. Yet there were no distinct class-lines, and popular power, like popular educa- tion, was widely diffused. Practically Massachusetts was almost independent of the mother-country. Its people were purely English, of sound yeoman stock, with an abundant leaven drawn from the best of the 11 1745-1755.] NEW ENGLAND. 29 jtts Its ck, the Puritan gentry; but their original character had been somewhat modified by changed conditions of life. A harsh and exacting creed, with its stiff for- malism and its prohibition of wholesome recreation ; excess in the pursuit of gain, — the only resource left to energies robbed of their natural play ; the struggle for existence on a hard and barren soil ; and the iso- lation of a narrow village life, — joined to produce, in the meaner sort, qualities which were unpleasant, and sometimes repulsive. Puritanism was not an unmixed blessing. Its view of human nature was dark, and its attitude towards it one of repression. It strove to crush out not only what is evil, but much that is innocent and salutary. Human nature so treated will take its revenge, and for every vice that it loses find another instead. Nevertheless, while New England Puritanism bore its peculiar crop of faults, it produced also many good and sound fruits. An uncommon vigor, joined to the hardy virtues of a masculine race, marked the New England type. The sinews, it is true, were hardened at the expense of blood and flesh, — and this literally as well as figuratively ; but the staple of character was a sturd}/ conscientiousness, an undespairing courage, patriot- ism, public spirit, sagacity, and a strong good sense. A great change, both for better and for worse, has since come over it, due largely to reaction against the unnatural rigors of the past. That mixture, which is now too common, of cool emotions with excitable brains, was then rarely seen. The New England J iV ' 80 THE COMBATANTS. [1745-1755. I II; J I''- 1 Ml I ■ , ! 1^* ■hi 'I if :| 'I colonies abounded in high examples of public and private virtue, though not always under the most prepossessing forms. They were conspicuous, more- over, for intellectual activity, and were by no means without intellectual eminence. Massachusetts had produced at least two men whose fame had crossed the sea, — Edwards, who out of the grim theology of Calvin mounted to sublime heights of mystical specu- lation; and Franklin, famous already by his discov- eries in electricity. On the other hand, there were few genuine New Englanders who, however person- ally modest, could divest themselves of the notion that they belonged to a people in an especial manner the object of divine approval ; and this self-righteous- ness, along with certain other traits, failed to com- mend the Puritan colonies to the favor of their fellows. Then, as now, New England was best known to her neighbors by her worst sido. In one point, however, she found general applause. She was regarded as the most military among the British colonies. This reputation was well founded, and is easily explained. More than all the rest, she lay open to attack. The long waving line of the New England border, with its lonel}^ hamlets and scattered farms, extended from the Kennebec to beyond the Connecticut, and was everywhere vulner- able to the guns and tomahawks of the neighboring French and their savage allies. The colonies towards the south had thus far been safe from danger. New York alone was within strikinsr distance of the Cana- 1745-1755.] VIRGIl^IA. 81 ew Lna- dian war-parties. That province then consisted of a line of settlements up the F idson and the Mohawk, and was little exposed to attack except at its northern end, which was guarded by the fortified town of Albany, with its outlying posts, and by the friendly and warlike Mohawks, whose "castles" were close at hand. Thus New England had borne the heaviest brunt of the preceding wars, not only by the forest, but also by the sea ; for the French of Acadia and Cape l^reton confronted her coast, and she was often at blows with them. Fighting had been a necessity with her, and she had met the emergency after a method extremely defective, but the best that circumstances would permit. Having no trained officers and no disciplined soldiers, and being too poor to maintain either, she bDrrowed her warriors from the workshop and the plough, and oificered them with lawyers, merchants, mechanics, or farmers. To compare them with good regular troops would be folly ; but they did, on the whole, better than could have been ex- pected, and in the List war achieved the brilliant success of the capture of Louisbourg. This exploit, due partly to native hardihood and partly to good luck, greatly enhanced the military repute of New England, or rather was one of the ciiief sources of it. The great colony of Virginia stood in strong con- trast to New England. In both the population was English; but the one was Puritan with Hoandhead traditions, and the other, so far as concerned its gov- erning class, Anglican, with Cavalier traditions. In 82 THE COMBATANTS. [1745-1755. mi>- 4H1 i ! i I the one, every man, woman, and child could read and write; in the otlier. Sir William Berkeley once thanked God that there were no free schools, and no prospect of any for a century. The hope had found fruition. The lower classes of Virginia were as un- taught as the warmest friend of popular ignorance could wish. New England had a native literature more than respectable under the circumstances, while Virginia had none; numerous industries, while Virginia was all agriculture, with but a single crop ; a homogeneous society and a democratic spirit, while her rival was an aristocracy. Virginian society was distinctly stratified. On the lowest level were the negro slaves, nearly as numerous as all the rest to- gether; next, the indented servants and the poor whites, of low origin, good-humored, but boisterous, and sometimes vicious ; next, the small and despised class of tradesmen and mechanics ; next, the farmers and lesser planters, who were mainly of good English stock, and who merged insensibly into the ruling class of the great landowners. It was these last who represented the colony and made the laws. They may be described as English country squires trans- planted to a warm climate and turned slave-masters. They sustained their position by entails, and con- stantly undermined it by the reckless profusion which ruined them at last. Many of them were well born, with an immense pride of descent, increased by the habit of domination. Indolent acid energetic by turns ; rich in natural gifts and often poor in book- ! 1745-1755.] PENNSYLVANIA. 33 learning, though some, in the lack of good teaching at home, had been bred in tlie English universities; high-spirited, generous to a fault; keeping open house in their capacious mansions, among vast tobacco-fiekls and toiling negroes, and living in a rude pomp where the fashions of St. James were somewhat oddly grafted on the roughness of the plantation, — what they wanted in schooling was supplied by an educa- tion which books alone would have been impotent to give, the education which came with the possession and exercise of political power, and the sense of a position to maintain, joined to a bold spirit of inde- pendence and a patriotic attachment to the Old Dominion. They were few in number; they raced, gambled, drank, and swore ; they did everything that in Puritan eyes was most reprehensible ; and in the day of need they gave the United Colonies a body of statesmen and orators which had no equal on the continent. A vigorous aristocracy favors the growth of personal eminence, even in those who are not of it, but only near it. The essential antagonism of Virginia and New England was afterwards to become, and to remain for a century, an element of the first influence in Ameri- can history. Each might have learned much from the other; but neither did so till, at last, the strife of their contending principles shook the continent. Pennsylvania differed widely from both. She was a conglomerate of creeds and races, — English, Irish, Germans, Dutch, and Swedes; Quakers, Lutherans, VOL. I.— 3 ■'={\'^'. IK*- m if' p li.r vi 1 ^ I if 1 1 U 84 THE COMBATANTS. [1745-1755. Presbyterians, Romanists, Moravians, and a variety of nondescript sects. The Quakers prevailed in the eastern districts; quiet, industrious, virtuous, and serenely obstinate. The Germans were strongest towards the centre of the colony, and were chiefly peasants; successful farmers, but dull, ignorant, and superstitious. Towards the west were the Irish, of whom some were Celts, always quarrelling with their German neighbors, who detested them; but the greater part were Protestants of Scotch descent, from Ulster; a vigorous border population. Virginia and New England had each a strong distinctive character. Pennsylvania, with her heterogeneous population, had none but that which she owed to the sober neutral tints of Quaker existence. A more thriving colony there was not on the continent. Life, if monotonous, was smooth and contented. Trade and the arts grew. Philadelphia, next to Boston, was the largest town in British America ; and was, more- over, the intellectual centre of the middle and southern colonies. Unfortunately, for her credit in the ap- proaching war, the Quaker influence made Pennsyl- vania non-combatant. Politically, too, she Avas an anomaly; for, though utterly unfeudal in disposition and character, she was under feudal superiors in the persons of the representatives of William Penn, the original grantee. New York had not as yet reached the relative prominence which her geographical position and inherent strength afterwards gave her. The English, si ii 174;V1755.] NEW YORK. 35 joined to the Dutch, the original settlers, were the doniinant population; but a half-score of other lan- guages were spoken in the province, the chief among them lieing that of the Huguenot French in the southern parts, and that of the Germans on the Mohawk. In religion, the province was divided between the Anglican C'hurch, with government support and popular dislike, and numerous dissenting sects, chiefly Lutherans, Independents, Presbyterians, and members of the Dutch Reformed Church. Tlie little city of New York, like its great successor, was the most cosmopolitan place on the continent, and probably the gayest. It had, in abundance, balls, concerts, theatricals, and evening clubs, with plenti- ful dances and other amusements for the poorer classes. Thither in the winter months came the great hereditary proprietors on the Hudson ; for the old Dutch feudality still held its own, and the manors of Van Rensselaer, Cortland, and Livingston, with their seigniorial privileges, and the great estates and numerous tenantry of the Schuylers and other leading families, formed the basis of an aristocracy, some of whose membere had done good service to the prov- ince, and were destined to do more. Pennsylvania was feudal in form, and not in spirit; Virginia in spirit, and not in form; New England in neither; and New York largely in both. This social crystal- lization had, it is true, many opponents. In politics, as in religion, there were sharp antagonisms and fre- quent quarrels. They centred in the city; for in the it IS' I ,I1'i» J •* ' i< 3^) rilK COMBATANTS. tl745-17.V). well-8io{.'k('(l (Iwollin^^s of iJio Dutch faniKM-n aloii<^ the Hudson tlioro roi«;iuMl a tniiiquil and pros^uMons routino; ami Iho Dntcli border town of Albany l»iid not its liko in America for unruflled consorvatiani and quaint i)i('turesqu(MU'ss. Of tliG other coh)ni('s, tlie briefest mention will sudice: New Jersey, with its wholesome population of farmera; tobaeeo-growing Maryland, which, but for its proprietary government and numerous Roman Catholics, might pass for another Virginia, inferior in growth, and less decisive in features; Delaware, a modest appendage of Pennsylvania; wild and rude North Carolina; and, farther on, Scmth Carolina and Georgia, too remote from the seat of war to take a noteworthy part in it. The attitude of these various colonies towards each other is hardly conceivable to an American of the present time. They had no political tie except a common allegiance to the liiitisli Crown. Connnunication between them was diflicuh and slow, by rough roads traced often through primeval forests. Between some of them there Avas less of sympathy tlian of jealousy kindled by con- flicting interests or perpetual disputes concerning boundaries. The patriotism of the colonist was bounded by the lines of his government, except in the compact and kindred colonies of New England, which were socially united, though politically dis- tinct. The country of the New Yorker was New York, and the country of the Virginian was Virginia. The New England colonies had once confederated; 1710-1755.] COLONIAL DISCORD. 8T but, kindred us tlu^y wore, thciy hud long aj^o dropped apfirt. William Vn\n jjroposed a plan of colonial union wholly fruit loss. James II. tried to unite uU the northern colonies under one government; but the attempt came to naught. Kach stood aloof, jealously independent. At rare intervals, luider the pressure of an emergency, some of them would try to act in concert; and, except in New England, the results had been most discouraging. Nor was it this segre- gation only that unfitted them for war. They were all subject to popular legislatures, through whom alone money and men could Ix raised; and these elective bodies were sometimes factious and selfish, and not always either fai sighted or reasonable. ]\(oreover, they were in a state ot ceaseless friction with their governors, who represented the King, or, what was woi-se, the feudal propjietary. These dis- putes, though varying in int(Misity, were found every- where except in the two small colonies which chose their own governors ; and they were premonitions of the movement towards independence which ended in the war of Revolution. The occasion of difference mattered little. Active or latent, the quarrel was always present. In Nev/ York it turned on a ques- tion of the governor's salary; in Pennsylvania on the taxation of the proprietaiy estates ; in Virginia on a fee exacted for the issue of land patents. It was sure to arise whenever some public crisis gave the representatives of the people an opportunity of extort- ing concessions from the representative of the Crown, ) i ■» ' T : HHH 88 THE COMBATANTS. [1745-1700. I 1 (.1' : 1 "i in r i . 1 ! [1 i ) i i 1 li; i: !. li -■ 1' ^ I 1 ,. i ' 1 '•■ 1 ■ 'l 1 ! ■ [ ■■]; 1 ;, 1 i ■ \ 1 1 ''■ 1 r ■ f[ : J! i 1 r IL^ iiii or gave the representative of the Crown an oppor- tunity to gain a point for prerogative. That is to say, the time when action was most needed was the time chosen for obstructing it. In Canada there was no popular legislature to embarrass the central power. The people, like an army, obeyed the word of command, — a military advantage beyond all price. Divided in government; divided in origin, feel- ings, and principles; jealous of each other, jealous of the Crown; the people at war with the executive, and, by the fermentation of internal politics, blinded to an outward danger that seemed remote and vague, — such were the conditions under which the British colonies drifted into a war that was to decide the fate of the continent. This war was the strife of a united and concentred few against a divided and discordant many. It was the sti'ife, too, of the past against the future ; of the old against the new; of moral and intellectual torpor against moral and intellectual life ; of barren absolut- ism against a liberty, crude, incoherent, and chaotic, yet full of prolific vitality. 0. r- to le to m ry 3l- of re, ed le, [sh ite •ed the por lit- tle, "tl m THE CONSPIRACY OF PONTIAC. CHAPTEit I. INTRODUCTORY. -INDIAN TRIBES EAST OF THE MISSISSIPPI. The Indian is a tme child of the forest and the desert. The wastes and solitudes of nature are his congenial home. His haughty mind is imbued with the spirit of the wilderness, and the light of civili- zation falls on him with a blighting power. His unruly pride and untamed freedom are in harmony with the lonely mountains, cataracts, and rivers among which he dwells; and primitive America, with her savage sceneiy and savage men, opens to the imagination a boundless world, unmatched in wild sublimity. The Indians east of the Mississippi may be divided into several great families, each distinguished by a radical peculiarity of language. In their moral and intellectual, their social and political , state, these various families exhibit strong shades of distinction; but, before pointing them out, I shall indicate a few mmmm INDIAN TRIBES. [Chap. I. M bM'j^ ' mi iii prominent characteristics, which, faintly or distinctly, mark the whole in common. All are alike a race of hunters, sustaining life wholly, or in part, by tlie fruits of the chase. Each family is split into tribes; and these tribes, by the exigencies of the hunter life, are again divided into sub-tribes, bands, or villages, often scattered far asunder, over a wide extent of wilderness. Un- happily for the strength and harmony of the Indian race, each tribe is prone to regard itself, not as the member of a great whole, but as a sovereign and independent nation, often arrogating to itself an importance superior to all the rest of mankind ; ^ and the warrior whose petty horde miglit muster a few scores of half-starved fighting men, strikes his hand upon his heart, and exclaims, in all the pride of patriotism, "I am a Menomone.'''' In an Indian community, each man is his own master. He abhors restraint, and owns no other authority than his own ca[)ric'ious will ; and yet this wild notion of liberty is not inconsistent with certain gradations of rank and influence. Each trilje has its sachem, or civil chief, whose office is in a manner hereditary, and, among many, tlioiigh by no means among all tribes, descends in the female line; so that the brother of the incumbent, or the son of his sister, 1 Many Indian tribes bear names which in their dialect signify men, indicating that the character belongs, par excellence, to them. Sometimes the word was used by itself, and sometimes an adjective was joined with it, as original men, men surpassing all others. mm Chap. I.J ORGANIZATION. and not his own son, is the rightful successor to his dignities.* If, however, in the opinion of the old men and subordinate chiefs, the heir should be dis- qualified for the exercise of the office by cowardice, incapacity, or any defect of character, they do not scruple to discard him, and elect another in his place, usually fixing their choice on one of his relatives. The office of the sachem is no enviable one. He has neither laws to administer nor power to enforce his commands. His counsellors are the inferior chiefs and principal men of the tribe; and he never sets himself in opposition to the popular will, which is the sovereign power of these savage democracies. His province is to advise, and not to dictate; but, should he be a man of energy, talent, and address, and especially should he be supported by numerous relatives and friends, he may often acquire no small measure of respect and power. A clear distinction is drawn between the civil and military authority, though both are often united in the same person. The functions of war-chief may, for the most part, be exercised by any one whose prowess and reputation are sufficient to induce the young men to follow him to battle; and he may, whenever he thinks proper, raise a band of volunteers, and go out against the common enemy. ^ The dread of female infidelity has been assigned, and with probable truth, as the origin of this custom. The sons of a chief's lister must necessarily be his kindred ; though liia own reputed son may be. in fact, the offspring of another, W: 6 INDIAN TRIBES. [Chap. L ':* fir ' I ' I, Mh iriHj WW I : We might imagine that a society so loosely framed would soon resolve itself into anarchy; yet this is not the case, and an Indian village is singularly free from wranglings and petty strife. Several causes conspire to this result. The necessities of the hunter life, preventing the accumulation of large commu- nities, make more stringent organization needless; while a species of self-control, inculcated from child- hood upon every individual, enforced by a sentiment of dignity and manhood, and greatly aided by the peculiar temperament of the race, tends strongly to the promotion of harmony. Though he owns no law, the Indian is inflexible in his adherence to ancient usages and customs; and the principle of hero-wor- ship, which belongs to his nature, inspires him with deep respect for the sages and captains of his t ibe. The very rudeness of his condition, and the absence of the passions which wealth, luxury, and the other incidents of civilization engender, are favorable to internal harmony ; and to the same cause must like- wise be ascribed too many of his virtues, which would quickly vanish, were he elevated from his savage state. A peculiar social institution exists among the Indians, very curious in its character; and though I am not prepared to say that it may be traced through all the tribes east of the Mississippi, yet its preva- lence is so general, and its influence on political rela- tions so important, as to claim especial attention. Indian communities, independently of their local dis- Chap. T.] TOTEMS. to tribution into tribes, bands, and villages, are com- posed of several distinct clans. Each clan has its emblem, consisting of the figure of some bird, beast, or reptile ; and eacli is distinguished by the name of the animal which it thus bears us its device; as, for example, the clan of the Wolf, the Deer, the Otter, or the Hawk. In the language of the Algonquins, these emblems are l^iiown by the name of Totems.^ The members of the same clan, being connected, or supposed to be so, by ties of kindred, more or less remote, are prohibited from intermarriage. Thus Wolf cannot marry Wolf ; but he may, if he chooses, take a wife from the clan of Hawks, or any other clan but his own. It follows that when this prohibi- tion is rigidly observed, no single clan can live apart from the rest; but the whole must be mingled together, and in every family the husband and wife must be of different clans. To different totems attach different degrees of rank and dignity; and those of the Bear, the Tortoise, and the Wolf are among the fii-st in honor. 1 Schoolcraft, Oneota, 172. The extraordinary figures intended to represent tortoises, deer, snakes, and other animals, which are often seen appended to Indian treaties, are the totems of the chiefs, who employ these devices of their respective clans as their sign manual. The device of his clan is also sometimes tattooed on the body of the warrior. The word tribe might, perhaps, have been employed with as much propriety as that of dan, to indicate the totemic division; but as the former is constantly employed to rei)r(.'sent the local or political divisions of the Indian race, hopeless confusion would ariie from using it in a double capacity. 8 INDIAN TRIBES. [Chap. I. ' '\f Each man is proud of his badge, jealously asserting its claims to respect; and the members of the same clan, though they may, perhaps, speak different dialects, and dwell far asunder, are yet bound together by the closest ties of fraternity. If a man is killed, every member of the clan feels called upon to avenge him ; and the wayfarer, the hunter, or the warrior is sure of a cordial welcome in the distant lodge of the clansman whose face perhaps he has never seen. It may l)e added that certain privileges, highly prized as hereditary rights, sometimes reside in particular clans; such as that of furnishing a sachem to the tribe, or of performing certain religious ceremonies or magic rites. 'i'he Indians east of the Mississippi may be divided into three great families: the Iroquois, the Algon- quin, and the Mobil ian, each speaking a language of its own, varied by numerous dialectic forms. To these families nuist Ije added a few stragglers from the great western race of the Dahcotah, besides several distinct tribes of tlio south, eaeli of which has been regarded as speaking a tongue peculiar to itself.^ The Mobilian group embraces the motley confederacy of the Creeks, the crafty Choctaws, and the stanch and warlike Chickasaws. Of these, and of the distinct tribes dwelling in their vicinity, or within their limits, I shall onl}' observe that they offer, with many r.iodifications, and under different '& 1 For an ample view of these divisions, see the Synopsis of Mr, Gallatin, Trans. Am. Arit. Soc, ii. . I. Chap. T.] THE IROQUOIS. ing line ■ent and nan ipon the tant has iges, Bside ng a gious vided Igon- ge of To from 3sides which iar to notley , and !, and ty, or t they fferent of Mr, aspects, the same essential features which mark the Iroquois and the Algonquins, the two great families of the north. ^ The latter, who were tlie conspicuous actors in the events of the ensuing narrative, demand a closer attention. THE IROQUOIS FAMILY. Foremost in war, foremost in eloquence, foremost in their savage arts of policy, stood the fierce people called by themselves the Hodeiiosaunee^ and by the French the Iroquois^ a name which has since been applied to the entire family of which they formed the dominant meml^er.^ They extended their con- quests and their depredations from Quebec to the Carolinas, and from the western prairies to the forests ^ It appears from several passages in the writinj^s of Adair, Hawkins, and others, that the^totem prevailed among the southern tribes. In a conversation with tlie late Albert Gallatin, he infornicil me that he was told by the chiefs of a Choctaw deputation, at Washington, that in tlieir tribe were eight totemic clans, divided into two classes, of four each. It is very remarkable that the same number of clans, and the same division into classes, were to be found among the IMve Nations or Iroquois. 2 A great difficulty in the study of Indian history arises from a rodundancj' of names employed to designate the same tribe; yet this does not prevent the same name from being often used to des- ignate two or more different tribes. The following are the chief of those which are applied to the Iroquois by different writers, French, English, and German : — Iroquois, Five, and afterwards Six Nations ; Confederates, Hode- nosaunee, Aquanuscioni, Aggonnonshioni, Ongwe Honwe, Mengwe, Maquas, Mahaquase, Massawomecs, Palenachendchiesktajeet. The name of Massawomecs has been applied to several tribes ; and that of Mingoes is often restricted to a colony of the Iroquois which established itself near the Ohio 10 INDIAN TRIBES. [Chap. I. of Maine. ^ On the south, they forced tribute from the subjugated Delawares, and pierced the mountain fastnesses of the Clierokees with incessant forays. ^ On the north, they uprooted the ancient settlements of the Wyandots ; on the west they exterminated the Eries and the .Vndastes, and spread havoc and dis- may among the tril)e8 of the Illinois; and on the east, the Indians of New England fled at the iirst peal of the ISlohawk war-ciy. Nor was it the Indian race alone who quailed before their ferocious valor. All Canada shook with the fury of their onset ; the people fled to the forts for refuge ; the blood-besmeared conquerors roamed like wolves among the burning settlements, and the colony trembled on the brink of ruin. I I hi' f Sli; III?! 1 Francois, a well-known Indian belonging to the remnant of the Penobscots living at Old Town, in Maine, told me, in the summer of 1843, that a tradition was current, among his people, of their being attacked in ancient times by the Mohawks, or, as he called them, Mohogs, a tribe of the Iroquois, who destroyed one of their villages, killed the men and women, and roasted the small children on forked sticks, like apples, before the fire. When he began to tell his story, Francois was engaged in patching an old canoe, in preparation for a moose hunt; but soon growing warm with his recital, he gave over his work, and at the conclusion exclaimed with great wrath and earnestness, " Mohog all devil ! " * The tribute exacted from the Delawares consisted of wampum, or beads of shell, an article of inestimable value with the Indians. " Two old men commonly go about, every year or two, to receive this tribute ; and I have often had opportunity to observe what anx» iety the poor Indians were under, while these two old men remained in that part of the country where I was. An old Mohawk sachem, in a poor blanket and a dirty shirt, may be seen issuing his orders with as arbitrary an authority as a Boman dictator." — Golden, HiMt. Five Nations, 4. ti':, 1. THE IROQUOIS. 11 Chap. I.] The Iroquois in some measure owed their triumphs to tho pusiliou of their couutry; for they dwelt within the present limits of the SUit(> (»f New York, whence several great rivers and the inland oceans of the northern lakes upeneeople 18 of Idown- near repre- Itional rudeness; and their coarse pottery, their spear and arrow heads of stone, were in no way superior to those of many other tribes. Their agriculture deserves a higher praise. In IGVK), the invading army of Count Frontenac found the maize fields extending a league and a half or two leagues from their villages; and, in 1779, the troops of General Sullivan were filled witli amazement at their ahundant stores of corn, beans, and scpiaslies, and at the old apple orchanls whieli grew around tlieir settlements. Their dwellings and works of defence were far from contemptible, either in their dimensions or in their structure; and though by the several attacks of the French, and especially hy the invasion of De- nonville, in 1687, and of Frontenac, nine years later, their fortified towns were levelled to the earth, never again to reappear; yet in the works of Champlain and other early writers we find abinidant evidence of their pristine condition. Along the banks of the Mohawk, among the hills and hollows of Onondaga, in the forests of Oneida and Cayuga, on the romantic shores of Seneca Lake and the rich borders of the Genesee, surrounded by waving maize fields, and encircled from afar by the green margin of the forest, stood the ancient strongholds of the confederacv. The clustering dwellings were encompassed by pali- sades, in single, double, or tri})]e rows, pierced with loopholes, furnished with platforms within, for the convenience of the defenders, with magazines of stones to hurl upon the heads of the enemy, and :.ir I 'iiiii I- li 20 INDIAN' TRIBES. [Chap. I. with water conductoi-s to extinguish any fire which might be kindled from without. ^ The area which these defences enclosed was often several acres in extent, and the dwellings, ranged in order within, were sometimes more than a hundred feet in length. Posts, fii'mly driven into the ground, with an intervening framework of poles, formed the basis of the structure ; and its sides and arched roof were closely covered with layers of elm bark. Each of the larger dwellings contained several distinct families, whose separate fires were built along the central space, while compartments on each side, like the stalls of a stable, afforded some degree of privacy. Here, rude couches were prepared, and bear and deer skins spread; while above, the ripened ears of maize, suspended in rows, formed a golden tapestry.^ n i* > I H mi \i I 1 Lafitau, Motnrs des Sauvages Ameriquains, ii. 4-10. Frontenac, in his expedition against the Onondagas, in I'ifV} (see Ofllcial Journal, Doc. Hist. New York, i. 332), found one of their vil- lages built in an oblong form, with four bastions. The wall was formed of three rows of palisades, those of the outer row beinsr forty or fifty feet high. The usual figure of the Iroquois villages was circular or oval, and in this instance the bastions were no doubt the suggestion of some European adviser. 2 Bartram gives the following account of the great council- house at Onondaga, which he visited in 1743 : — " We alighted at the council-house, where the chiefs were already assembled to receive us, which they did with a grave, cheerful com- plaisance, according to their custom ; they shewed us where to lay our baggage, and repose ourselves during our stay with them; which was in the two end apartments of this large house. The Indians that came with us were placed over against us. This cabin is about eighty feet long and seventeen broad, the common passage •Lc feet wide, and the apartments on each side five feet, raised a •' \ Chap. I.] IROQrOlS LIFK. 21 In the long evenings of midwinter, when in the wilderness without the trees cracked with biting cold, and the forest paths were clogged with snow, then, around the lodge-fires of the Iroquois, warriors, squaws, and restless naked children were clustered in social groups, each dark face briglitening in the fickle firelight, while, with jest and laugh, the pipe passed round from hand to hand. Perhaps some shrivelled old warrior, the story-teller of the tribe, recounted to attentive ears the deeds of ancient hero- ism, legends of spirits and monsters, or tales of witches and vampires, — superstitions not less rife among this all-believing race than among the nations of the transatlantic world. The life of the Iroquois, though void of those multiplying phases which vary the routine of civilized foot above the passage by a long sapling, hewed square, and fitted with joists that go from it to the back of the house ; on these joists they lay large pieces of bark, and on extraordinary occasions spread mats made of rushes: this favor we had; on these floors they set or lye down, every one as he will ; the apartments are divided from each other by boards or bark, six or seven foot long, from the lower floor to the upper, on which they put their lumber ; when they have eaten their honiony, as they set in each apartment before the fire they can put the bowl over head, having not above five foot to reach ; they set on the floor sometimes at each end, but mostly at one ; they have a shed to put their wood into in the win- ter, or in the summer to set to converse or play, that has a door to the south ; all the sides and roof of the cabin are made of bark, bound fast to poles set in the ground, and bent round on the top, or set aflatt, for the roof, as we set our rafters ; over each fireplace they leave a hole to let out the smoke, whicli, in rainy weather, they cover with a piece of bark, and this they can easily reach with a pole to push it on one side or quite over the hole ; after this model are most of their cabins built." — Bartram, Ob$ervationi, 4Si, :l!:'' ■ iji;..-, if ill 00 INDIAN TRIBES. V :|! i'^l [Chap. I. existence, was one of sharp excitement and sudden contrast. The chase, the war-path, the dance, the festival, the game of hazard, the race of political ambition, all liad tlieir votaries. When the assembled sachems had resolved on >var against some foreign trilK?, and wlien, from their great council-house of bark, in the Valley of Onondaga, their messengers had gone forth to invite the warriors to arms, then from ejist to west, through the farthest bounds of the confederacy'-, a thousand warlike hearts caught up the summons. With fasting and praying, and consulting dreams and omens; with invoking the war-god, and dancing the war-dance, the warriors sought to insure the triumph of their arms ; and then, their rites con- cluded, they began their stealthy progress through the devious path\\'ays of the forest. For days and weeks, in anxious expectation, the villagers awaited the result. And now, as evening closed, a shrill, wild cry, pealing from afar, over the darkening forest, proclaimed the return of the victorious war- riors. The village was alive with sudden commo- tion; and snatcliing sticks and stones, knives and hatchets, men, women, and children, yelling like fiends let loose, svvarmed out of the narrow portal, to visit upon the captives a foretaste of the deadlier torments in store for them. The black arches of the forest glowed with the fires of death; and with brandished torch and firebrand the frenzied multitude closed around their victim. The pen shrinks to write, the heart sickens to conceive, the fierceness of Chap. I.] IROQUOIS LIFE. 28 his agony; yet still, amid the din of his tormentors, rose his clear voice of scorn and defiance. The work was done; the blackened trunk was flung to the dogs, and, with clamorous shouts and hootings, the murderers sought to drive away the spirit of their victim.* The Iroquois reckoned these barbarities among their most exquisite enjoyments; and yet they had other sources of pleasure, which made up in fre- quency and in innocence what they lacked in inten- sity. Each passing season had its feasts and dances, often mingling religion with social pastime. The young had their frolics and merry-makings ; and the old had their no less frequent councils, where con- versation and laughter alternated with grave delibera- tions for the public weal. There were also stated periods marked by the recurrence of momentous ceremonies, in which the whole community took part, — the mystic sacrifice of the dogs, the orgies of 1 " Being at this place the 17 of June, there came fifty prisoners from the south-westward. They were of two nations, some whereof have few guns ; tlie other none at all. One nation is about ten days' journey from any Christians, and trade onely with one greatt house, nott farr from the sea, and the other trade onely, as they say, with a black people. This day of them was burnt two women, and a man and a child killed with a stone. Att night we heard a great noyse as if y® houses had all fallen, butt itt was only y* in- habitants driving away y*' gliosis of y« murthcred. " The IS*^ going to Canagorah, that day tlicrc were most cruelly burnt four men, four women and one boy. The cruelty lasted aboutt seven hours. When they were almost dead letting them loose to the mercy of y* boys, and taking the hoiirts of such as were dead to feast on." — Grecnhalgli, Journal, 1677. ''( i, 24 INDIAX TRIBES. [Chap. I. 1.1 the dream feast, and the loathsome festival of the exhumation of the dead. Yet in tlie intervals of war and hunting, these resources would often fail; and, while the women were toiling in the cornfields, the lazy warriors beguiled the hours with smoking or sleeping, with gambling or gallantly.* If we seek for a single trait pre-eminently charac- teristic of the Irotjuois, we shall find it in that boundless pride which impelled them to style them- selves, not inaptly as regards their own race, "the men surpassing all others. "^ "Must I," exclaimed one of their great warriors, as he fell wounded among a crowd of Algonquins, — " must I, who have made the whole earth tremble, now die by the hands of children ? " Their power kept pace with their pride. Their war-parties roamed over half America, and their name was a terror from the Atlantic to the Mississippi ; but, when we ask the numerical strength of the dreaded confederacy, when we discover that, in the days of their greatest triumphs, their united cantons could not have mustered four thousand warriors, we stand amazed at the folly and dissension which left so vast a region the prey of a handful of bold marauders. Of the cities and villages now so ^ For an account of the habits and customs of the Iroquois, the following works, besides those already cited, may be referred to : Charlevoix, Letters to the Duchess of Lpsdlguieres ; Champlain, Voyages de la Nonv. France ; Clark, Hist. Onondaga, i.. and several volumes of the Jesuit Relations, especially those of 1660-1667 and 1659-1660. 2 This is Colden's translation of the word Ongwehonwe, one of the names of the Iroquois. i,-i THE HURONS. 25 )W so )i8, the to: iplain, jseveral [57 and one of Chap. I.] thickly scattered over the lost domain of the Iroquois, a single one might boast a more numerous population than all the five united tribes.^ From this remarkable people, who with all the ferocity of their race blended heroic virtues and marked endowiaents of intellect, I pass to other mem- bers of the same great family, whose different for- tunes may perhaps be ascribed rather to the force of circumstance than to any intrinsic inferiority. The peninsula between the Lakes Huron, Erie, and Ontario was occupied by two distinct peoples, speaking dialects of the Iroquois tongue. The Hurons or Wyandots, including the tribe called by the French the Dionondadies, or Tobacco Nation,^ dwelt among the forests which bordered the eastern shores of the fresh-water sea, to which they have left 1 La Hontan estimated the Iroquois at from five thousand to seven thousand fighting men ; but liis means of information were very imperfect, and the same may be said of several other French writers, who have overrated the force of tlie confederacy. In 1077, the Englisli sent one Greenhalgh to ascertain tlieir numbers. He visited all their towns and villages, and reported their aggregate force at two thousand one hundred and fifty fighting men. The report of Colonel Coursey, agent from Virginia, at about the same period, closely corresponds with this statement. Greenhalgh's Journal will be found in Chalmers's Political Annals, and in the Documentari/ Historic of New York: Subsequent estimates, up to the period of the Revolution, when their strength had much de- clined, vary from twelve hundred to two thousand one hundred and twenty. Most of these estimates are given by Clinton, in his Discourse on the Five Nations, and several by Jefferson, in his Notes on Virginia. 2 Hurons, Wyandots, Ycndots, Ouendaets, Quatogies. The Dionondadies are also designated by the following names : Tlonontatez, Petuneux — Nation of Tobacco. I; :m ■■t'l I'lil; w 1 1 1> 26 INDIAN TRIBES. [Chap. I. i! I their name ; while the Neutral Nation, so culled from their neutrality in the war between the Ilurons and the Five Nations, inhabited the northern shores of Lake Erie, and even extended their eastern flank across the strait of Niagara. The population of the Ilurons has been variously stated at from ten thousand to thirty thousand souls, but probably did not exceed the former estimate. The Franciscans and the Jesuits were early among them, and from their descriptions it is apparent that, in legends and superstitions, manners and habits, reli- gious observances and social customs, they were closely assimilated to their brethren of the Five Nations. Their capacious dwellings of bark, and their palisaded forts, seemed copied after the same model. ^ Like the Five Nations, they were divided into tribes, and cross-divided into totemic clans ; and, as with them, the office of sachem descended in the female line. The same crude materials of a political fabric were to be found in both; but, unlike the Iroquois, the Wyandots had not as yet wrought them into a sys- tem, and woven them into a liarmonious whole. Like the Five Nations, the Wyandots were in some measure an agricultural people; they bartered the surplus products of their maize fields to surrounding tribes, usually receiving fish in exchange; and this ti'affic was so considerable tiiat the Jesuits styled their country the Granary of the Algonquins.^ * See Sagard, Hurons, 115. - Bancroft, in his chapter on tlie Indians east of the Mississippi, falls into a mistake when he says tJiat no trade was carried on by some the iding this jtyled pissippi, on by Chap. I.] DISPERSTOX OF THE IIURO^CS. 27 Their prosperity was rudely broken by the hostili- ties of the Five Nations; for though the conllictiug parties were not ill matched in point of nunibcis, yet the united counsels and ferocious energies of tlu; confederacy swept all before them. In the yoar 1(340, in the depth of winter, their warriors invaded the country of the Wyandots, stormed their largest villages, and inNolved all within in indiseriniinate slaughter.* The survivors fled in panic terror, and the whole nation was broken and dispersed. Some found refuge among the French of Canada, where, at the village of Lorette, near Quebec, their descendants still remain; others were incorporated with their conquerors ; while others again fled north- ward, beyond J^ake Superior, and sought an asylum among the wastes which bordered on the northeastern bands of the Dahcotah. Driven back by those fierce bison-hunters, they next established themselves about the outlet of Lake Superior, and the shores and islands in the northern parts of Lake Huron. Thence, about the year 1080, they descended to Detroit, where they formed a permanent settlement, and where, by their superior valor, capacity, and address they soon acquired an ascendency over the surrounding Algonquins. The ruin of the Neutral Nation followed close on that of the Wyandots, to whom, according to Jesuit any of the tribes. For an account of the traffic between the IIu- rons and Algonquins, see Mercier, Rtiatlon des Hurons, 1G37, 171. 1 See "Jesuits in North America." mmmmt ij'. 28 INDIAN TRIBES. [Chap. I. "i ii m 11 authority, they bore an exact resemblance in character and manners.^ The Senccus soon found means to pick a quarrel with them ; tliey were assailed by all the strengtli of the insatiable confederacy, and within a few years their destruction as a nation was complete. South of Lake Erie dwelt two members of the Iroquois famil3^ The Andastes built their fortified villages along the valley of the Lower Susquehanna; while the Erigas, or Eries, occupied the borders of the lake which still retains their name. Of these two nations little is known, for the Jesuits had no missions among them, and few traces of them survive beyond their names and the record of their destruc- tion. The war with the Wyandots was scarcely over, when the Five Nations turned their arms against their Erie brethren. In the year 1655, using their canoes as scaling ladders, they stormed the Erie stronghold, leaped down like tigers among the defenders, and butchered them without mercy.^ The greater part of the nation was involved in the massacre, and the renmant was incorporated with the conquerors, or with other tribes, to which they fled for refuge. The ruin of the 1 According to Lalemant, the population of the Neutral Nation amounted to at least twelve thousand ; but the estimate is probably exaggerated. — lielntion des Hurons, 1641, 50. 2 The Iroquois traditions on this subject, as related to the writer by a chief of the Cayugas, do not agree with the narratives of the Jesuits. It is not certain that the Eries were of the Iroquois family. There is some reason to believe them Algonquius, and possibly identical with the Shawanoes. •I . I. iter to all :hiii was the ified niia; rs of these id no rvive itruc- over, gainst ;aling leaped fhered .ation it was other lof the 1 Nation robably to the rratives [roquois iu8, and Chap. I.] TRIUMPHS OF THE IROQUOIS. 20 Andastes came next in turn ; but this brave people fought for twenty years against their inexorable assaihmts, and their destruction was not consummated until the year 1672, when they shared the fate of the rest.^ Thus, within less than a quarter of a century, four nations, the most brave and powerful of the North American savages, sank before the arms of the con- federates. Nor did their triumphs end here. With- in the same short space they subdued their southern neighbors the Lenape,^ the leading members of the Algonquin family, and expelled the Ottawas, a numerous people of the same lineage, from the borders of the river which bears their name. In the north, the west, and the south, their conquests embraced every adjacent tribe; and meanwhile their war- parties were harassing the French of Canada with reiterated inroads, and yelling the war-whoop under the walls of Quebec. They were the worst of conquerors. Inordinate pride, the lust of blood and dominion, were the mainsprings of their warfare; and their victories were stained with every excess of savage passion. That their triumphs must have cost them dear; that, in spite of their cautious tactics, these multiplied conflicts must have greatly abridged their strength, would appear inevitable. Their losses were, in fact, 1 Charlevoix, Nouvelk France, i. 443. 2 Gallatin places the final subjection of the Lenape at about the year 1760, — a printer's error for 1650. — Synopsit, 48. 80 INDIAN TRIBES. [Chap. I. considerable ; but every breach was repaired by means of a practice to which they, in common with other tribes, constantly adhered. When their vengeance was glutted by the sacrifice of a sufficient number of captives, they spared the lives of the remainder, and .. l)pted them as members of tlieir confederated tribes, tvjpuviting wives from husbands, and children from parents, and distributing them among different vil- lages, in order that old ties and associations might be more completely broken up. This policy is said to have been designated among them by a name which signifies "flesh cut into pieces and scattered among the tribes." In the years 1714-15, the confederacy received a great accession of strength. Southwards, about the headwaters of the rivers Neuse and Tar, and sepa- rated from their kindred tribes by intervening Algonquin communities, dwelt the Tuscaroras, a warlike people belonging to the generic stock of the Iroquois. The wrongs inflicted by white settlers, and their own undistinguishing vengeance, involved them in a war with the colonists, which resulted in their defeat and expulsion. They emigrated to the Five Nations, whose allies they had been in former wars with southern tribes, and who now gladly received them, admitting them as a sixth nation into their confederacy. It is a remark of Gallatin that, in their career of conquest, the Five Nations encountered more stub- born resistance from the tribes of their own family 111. Chap. I.] IROQUOIS FAMILY. 81 eans itlier ance 31 of and from t vil- :ht be lid to which ,mong ived a lit the sepa- /■ening uas, a of the ttlers, olved ted in to the ormer gladly n into ^eer of stub- Ifamily than from those of a different lineage. In truth, all the scions of this warlike stock seem endued with singular vitality and force, and among them we must seek for the best type of the Indian character. Few tribes could match them in prowess, constancy, moral energy, or intellectual vigor. The Jesuits remarked that they were more intelligent, j^-et less tractable, than other savages; and Charlevoix observes that, though the Algonquins were readily converted, they made but fickle proselj^tes ; while the Hurons, though not easily won over to the Church, were far more faithful in their adherence.^ Of this tribe, the Hurons, or Wyandots, a candid and experienced observer declares, that of all the Indians with whom he was conversant, they alone held it disgraceful to turn from the face of an enemy when the fortunes of the fight were adverse.^ Besides these inherent qualities, the tribes of the Iroquois race derived great advantages from their superior social organization. They were all, more or less, tillers of the soil, and were thus enabled to concentrate a m.ore numerous population than the scattered tribes who live by the chase alone. In their well-peopled and well-constructed villages, they dwelt together the greater part of the year ; and thence the religious rites and social and political usages, which elsewhere existed only in the germ, 1 Nouvelle France, 1. 196. * William Henry Harrison, Discourse on the Aborigines of the Ohio. See Ohio Hist, Trans., Part Second, i. 257. ft; 82^ INDIAN TRIBES. [Chap. I. attained among tliem a full development. Yet these advantages were not without alloy, and the Jesuits were not slow to remark that the stationary and thriving Iroquois were more loose in their observance of social ties than the wandering and starving savages of the north.* THE ALGONQUIN FAMILY. Except the detached nation of the Tuscaroras, and a few smaller tribes adhering to them, the Iroquois family was confiued to the region south of the Lakes Erie and Ontario, and the peninsula east of Lake Huron. They formed, as it were, an island in the vast expanse of Algonquin population, extending from Hudson's Bay on the north to the Carolinas on the south; from the Atlantic on the east to the Mississippi and Lake Winnipeg on the west. They were Algonquins who greeted Jacques Cartier, as his ships ascended the St. Lawrence. The first British colonists found savages of the same race hunting and fishing along the coasts and inlets of Virginia ; and it was the daughter of an Algonquin chief who interceded with her father for the life of the adventurous Englishman. They were Algon- quins who, under Sassacus the Pequot, and Philip of Mount Hope, waged war against the Puritans of * " Here y* Indyans were very desirous to see us ride our horses, y/nh yfQQ did: they made great feasts and dancing, and invited us y* when all y" raaides were togetlier, both wee and our Indyans might choose such fts lyked us to ly with."— Greenhalgh, Journal Chap. I.] ALGONQUINS. 33 lorses, Sted us idyans journal ^<- « New England; who dwelt at Penacook, lander the rule of the great magician, Passaconaway, and trembled before the evil spirits of the ^Vhite Hills; and who sang aves and told their beads in the forest chapel of Father Rale, by the banks of the Kennebec. They were Algonquins who, under the great tree at Kensington, made the covenant of peace with William Penn; and when French Jesuits and fur-traders explored the Wabash and the Ohio, they found their valleys tenanted by the same far-extended race. At the present day, the traveller, perchance, may find them pitching their bark lodges along the beach at Mackinaw, spearing fish among the nvpids of St. Mary's, or skimming the waves of Lake Superior in their birch canoes. Of all the members of the Algonquin family, those called by the English the Delawares, by the French the Loups, and by themselves Lenni Lenape, or Original Men, hold the first claim to attention; for their traditions declare them to be the parent stem whence other Algonquin tribes have sprung. The latter recognized the claim, and, at all solemn councils, accorded to the ancestral tribe the title of Grandfather. 1 The first European colonists found the conical lodges of the Lenape clustered in frequent groups 1 The Lenape, on their part, call the other Algonquin tribes Children, Grandchildren, Nephews, or Younger Brothers ; but they confess the superiority of the Wyandots and the Five Nations, by yielding them the title of Uncles. They, in return, call the Lenape Nephews, or more frequently Cousins. VOL. 1.— 3 /^ ■zam 84 INDIAN TRTRES. [Chap. 1. about the waters of the DeUivvare and its tributary streams, within the present limits of New Jersey and Eastern Pennsylvania. The nation was sepa- rated into three divisions, and tliree sachems formed a triumvirate, who, with the couneil of old men, regulated all its affairs.* I'li^y were, in some small measure, an agrieultuial people; but fishing and the cliase were their chief dependence, and through a great part of the year they were scattered abroad, among forests and streams, in search of sustenance. When William Penn held his far-famed couneil with the sacliems of the Lenape, he extended the hand of brotherhood to a people as unwarlike in their habits as i.is \'n pacific followers. This is by no means to be ascribed to any inborn love of peace. The Lenape v» > "e \[:^^A in a state of degrading vassal- age to the Five Nations, who, that they might drain to tlie dregs the cup of humiliation had forced them to assume the name of Women, and forego the use of arms.'-^ Dwelling under the shadow of the tyran- nical confederacy, they were long unable to wipe out the blot; but at length, pushed from their [■* :l 'li 1 Loskiol, Part I. 130. 2 The story told by the Lenape themselves, and recorded with the utmost good faith by Losklel and Hockewelder, that the Five Kutions had not conquered them, but, by a cunning artifice, had cheated them into subjection, is wholly unworthy of credit. It is not to be believed that a people so acute and suspicious could be the dupes of so palpable a trick ; and it is equally incredible that a high-spirited tribe could be induced, by the most persuasive rheto- ric, to assume the nanie of Women, which in Indian eyes is the last confession of abject abasement. Chap. I.] DELAWARES. 85 ancient seats by the encroachments of white men, and removed westward, partially beyond the reach of their c()n(][iierors, their native spirit began to revive, and they assumed a tone of defiance. During the Old French War they resumed the use of arms, and while the Five Nations fought for the English, they espoused the cause of France. At the opening of the Revolution, they boldly asserted their freedom from the yoke of their conquerors; and a few years after, the Five Nations confessed, at a public council, that the Lenape were no longer women, but men.* Ever since that period, they have stood in liigh repute for bravery, generosity, and all the savage virtues; and the settlers of the frontier have often found, to their cost, that the women of the Iroquois have been transformed into a race of formidable warriors. At the present da}'', the small remnant settled beyond the Mississippi are among the bravest marauders of the west. Their war-parties pierce the farthest wilds of the Rocky Mountains; and the prairie traveller may sometimes meet the Delaware warrior returning from a successful foray, a gaudy handkerchief bound about his brows, his snake locks fluttering in the wind, and his rifle resting across his saddle-bow, while the tarnished and begrimed equip- ments of his half-wild horse bear witness that the rider has waj'laid and plundered some Mexican cavalier. Adjacent to the Lenape, and associated with them 1 Heckewelder, Hist. Ind. Nat. 63. Ii 86 INDIAN TRIBES. [Chap. I. in some of the most notable passages of their history, dwelt the Shawanoes, the Chaouanons of the French, a tribe of bold, roving, and adventurous spirit. Their eccentric wanderings, their sudden appearances and disappearances, perplex the antiquar^^ and defy research ; but from various scattered notices, we may gather that at an early period they occupied the val- ley of the Ohio; that, becoming embroiled with the Five Nations, they shared the defeat of the Andastes, and about the year 1072 fled to escape destruction. Some found an asylum in the country of the Lenape, where they lived tenants at will of the Five Nations; others sought refuge in the Carolinas and Florida, where, true to their native instincts, they soon came to blows with the owners of the soil. Again, turning northwards, they formed new settlements in the valley of the Ohio, where they were now suffered to dwell in peace, and where, at a later period, they were joined by such of their brethren as had found refuge among the Lenape.^ Of the tribes which, single and detached, or coher- ing in loose confederacies, dwelt within the limits of Lower Canada, Acadia, and New England, it is needless to speak; for they offered no distinctive traits demanding notice. Passing the country of the Lenape and the Shawanoes, and descending the Ohio, the traveller would have found its valley * The evidence concerning the movements of the Shawanoes is well summed up by Gallatin, Si/nopsis, 65. See also Drake, Life oj Tteutnsehf 10. ; I' Crap. I.] nxiNois. 87 of is tive the the llley les IS he of chiefly occupied by two nations, the Miamis or Twightwees, on the Wabash and its branches, and the Illinois, who dwelt in the neighborhood of the river to which they have given their name, while portions of them extended beyond the Mississippi. Though never subjugated, as were the Lenape, both the Miamis and the Illinois were reduced to the last extremity by the repeated attacks of the Five Nations; and the Illinois, in particular, suffered so much by these and other wars that the population of ten or twelve thousand, ascribed to them by the early French writers, had dwindled, during the first quarter of the eighteenth century, to a few small villages.^ According to Marest, they were a people sunk in sloth and licentiousness ; but that priestly father had suffered much at their hands, and viewed them with a jaundiced eye. Their agriculture was not con- temptible ; they had permanent dwellings as well as portable lodges; and though wandering through many months of the year among their broad prairies and forests, there were seasons when their whole population was gathered, with f eastings and merry- making, within the limits of their villages. Turning his course northward, traversing Lakes Michigan and Superior, and skirting the western margin of Lake Huron, the voyager would have found the solitudes of the wild waste around him broken by scattered lodges of the Ojibwas, Potta- 1 Father Rale, 1723, says that there were eleven. Marest, in 1712, found only three. 88 INDIAN TRIBES. [Chap. I. wattamies, and Ottawas. About the bays and rivers west of Lake Michigan, he would have seen the Sacs, the Foxes, and the INIenominies ; and penetrat- ing the frozen wilderness of the north, he would have been welcomed by the rude hospitality of the wandering Crees or Knisteneaux. The Ojibwas, with their kindred, the Pottawat- tamies, and their friends the Ottawas, — the latter of whom were fugitives from the eastward, whence they had fled from the wrath of the Iroquois, — were banded into a sort of confederacy.^ They were closely allied in blood, language, manners, and char- acter. The Ojibwas, by far the most numerous of the three, occupied the basin of Lake Superior, and extensive adjacent regions. In their boundaries, the career of Iroquois conquest found at length a check. The fugitive Wyandots sought refuge in the Ojibwa hunting-grounds; and tradition relates that, at the out'et of Lake Superior, an Iroquois war-party once encountered a disastrous repulse. In their mode of life, they were far more rude than the Iroquois, or even the southern Algonquin tribes. The totemic system is found among them in its most imperfect state. The original clans have become broken into fragments, and indefinitely multiplied; and many of the ancient customs of the institution are but loosely regarded. Agriculture is little known, and, through summer and winter, they range the wilderness with restless wandering, now gorged to ^ Morse, Report, Appendix, 141, Crap. I.] OJIBWAS. 89 repletion, and now perishing with want. In the calm days of summer, the Ojibwa fisherman pushes out his birch canoe upon the great inland ocean of the north; and, as he gazes down into the pellucid depths, he seems like one balanced between earth and sky. The watchful fish-hawk circles above his head; and below, farther than his line will reach, ho sees the trout glide shiulowy and silent over the glimmering pebbles. The little islands on the verge of the horizon seem now starting into spires, now melting from the sight, now shaping themselves into a thousand fantastic forms, with the strange mirage of the waters ; and he fancies that the evil spirits of the lake lie basking their serpent forms on those unhallowed shores. Again, he explores the watery labyrinths where the stream sweeps among pine- tufted islands, or runs, black and deep, beneath the shadows of moss-bearded firs ; or he drags his canoe upon the sandy beach, and, while his camp-fire crackles on the grass-plat, reclines beneath the trees, and smokes and laughs away the sultry hours in a lazy luxury of enjoyment. But when winter descends upon the north, sealing up the fountains, fettering the streams, and turning the green-robed forests to shivering nakedness, then, bearing their frail dwellings on their backs, the Ojibwa family wander forth into the wilderness, cheered only on their dreary track by the v, hidtling of the north wind and the hungry howl of wolves. By the banks of some frozen stream, women and ;i' I , n 40 INDIAN TRIBES. [Chap. I. children, men and dogs, lie crouched together around the lire. They spread their l)enuml)ed ringera over the embers, while the wind shrieks through the fir- trees like the gale through the rigging of a frigate, and the narrow concave of the wigwam sparkles with the frostwork of their congealed breath. In vain they beat the nuigic drum, and call upon their guar- dian manitoes; the wary moose keeps aloof, the bear lies close in his hollow tree, and famine stares them in the face. And now the hunter can fight no more against the nipping cold and blinding sleet. Stiff and stiirk, with haggard cheek and shrivelled lip, he lies among the snowdrifts; till, with tooth and claw, the famished wildcat strives in vain to pierce the frigid marble of his limbs. Such harsh schooling is thrown away on the incorrigible mind of tlie northern Algonquin. He lives in misery, as his fathers lived before him. Still, in the brief hour of plenty he forgets the season of want; and still the sleet and the snow descend upon his houseless head.^ I have thus passed in brief review the more promi- nent of the Algonquin tribes; those whose struggles and sufferings form the theme of the ensuing History. In speaking of the Iroquois, some of the distinctive peculiarities of the Algonquins have already been 1 See Tanner, Long, and Henry. A comparison of Tanner with the accounts of the Jesuit Le Jeune will show that Algonquin life in Lower Canada, two hundred years ago, was essentially the same with Algonquin life on the Upper Lakes within the last half- century. SiUi Chap. I.] THEIR LEGENDARY LORE. 41 ronii- rgles Itory. Ictive [been ir with in life same half- hinted lit. It must be ndinitted that, in moral stabil- ity and intellectual vigor, tliey are inferior to the former; though some of the most conspieuous off- spring of the wilderness, Metacom, Tecumseh, and Pontiac himself, owned their blood and language. The fireside stories of every primitive people are faithful reflections of the form and coloring of the national mind; and it is no proof of sound philosopliy to turn with contempt from the study of a fairy tale. The legendary lore of the Iroquois, black as the midnight forests, awful in its gloomy strength, is but another manifestation of that sj)irit of mastery whi(di uprooted wliole tribes from the earth, and deluged the wilderness with blood. The traditionary tales of the Algonquins wear a different aspect. The credu- lous circle around an Ojibwa locl-^e-fire listened to wild recitals of necromancy and witchcraft, — men transformed to beasts, and beasts transformed to men, animated trees, and birds who spoke with human tongue. They heard of malignant sorcerers dwelling among the lonely islands of spell-bound lakes; of grisly VKcndigoes^ and bloodless gechi; of evil laanitoes lurking in tlie dens and fastnesses of the woods; of pygmy champions, diminutive in stature but mighty in soul, who, by the potency of charm and talisman, subdued the direst monsters of the waste; and of heroes, who not by downright force and open onset, but by subtle strategy, tricks, or magic art, achieved marvellous triumplis over the brute force of their assailants. Sometimes the tale 42 INDIAN TRIBES. [Chap. I. nm Ui r mi iif' f will breathe a different spirit, and tell of orphan chil- dren abandoned in the heart of a hideous wilderness, beset with fiends and cannibals. Some enamoured maiden, scornful of earthly suitors, plights her troth to the graceful manito of the grove ; or bright aerial beings, dwellers of the sky, descend to tantalize the gaze of mortals with evanescent forms of loveliness. The mighty giant, the God of the Thunder, who made his home among the caverns, beneath the cataract of Niagara, was a characteristic conception of Iroquois imagination. The Algonquins held a simpler faith, and maintained that the thunder was a bird who built his nest on the pinnacle of towering mountains. Two daring boys once scaled the height, and thrust sticks into the eyes of the portentous nestlings ; which hereupon flashed forth such wrath- ful scintillations that the sticks were shivered to atoms. ^ 1 For Algonquin legends, see Schoolcraft, in Alrfic Researches and Oneota. Le Jeune early discovered these legends among the trihes of his mission. Two centuries ago, among the Algonquins of Lower Canada, a tale was related to him, which, in its principal incidents, is identical with the story of the " Boy who set a Snare for the Sun," recently found hy Mr, Schoolcraft among the tribes of the Upper Lakes. Compare Relation, 1037, 172, and Oneota, 75. The coincidence affords a curious proof of the antiquity and wide diffusion of some of these talcs. The Dahcotah, as wrll as the Algonquins, believe that the thunder is produced by a bird. A beautiful illustration of this idea will be found in Mrs. Eastniiin's Le'jemts of the Sioux. An Indian pro- pounded to Le Jeune a doctrine of his own. According to his theory, the thunder is produced by the eructations of a monstrous giant, who had unfortunately swiiUowed a quantity of snakes; and the latter, falling to the earth, caused the appearance of lightning- '" il\ Chap. I.] THEIR RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 48 ulor be |pro- his rous land Ling- The religious belief of the Algonquins — and the remark holds good, not of the Algonquins only, but of all the hunting tribes of America — is a cloudy bewilderment, where we seek in vain for system or coherency. Among a primitive and savage people, there were no poets to vivify its images, and no priests to give distinctness and harmony to its rites and symbols. To the Indian mind, all nature was instinct with deity. A spirit was embodied in every mountain, lake, and cataract; every bird, beast, or reptile, every tree, shrub, or grass-blade was endued with mystic influence ; yet this untutored pantheism did not exclude the conception of certain divinities, of incongruous and ever-shifting attributes. The sun, too, was a god, and the moon was a goddess. Conflicting powers of good and evil divided the universe : but if, before the arrival of Europeans, the Indian recognized the existence of one, almighty, self-existent Being, the Great Spirit, the Lord of Heaven and Earth, the belief was so vague and dubious as scarcely to deserve the name. His per- ceptions of moral good and evil were perplexed and shadowy; and the belief in a state of future reward and punishment was by no means universal.^ Of the Indian character, much has been written foolishly, and credulously believed. By the rhapsodies " Voilii une philosophic bien nouvelle I " exclaims the astonished Jesuit. 1 Le Jeune, Schoolcraft, James, Jarvis, Charlevoix, Sagard, Br^beuf, Mercier, Vimont, Lalemant, Lafitau, De Smet, &c. ' i ■ii! I (I m; i ill I ■I M !| I'i I. |!i II?' ■(i'ili 44 INDIAN TRIBES. [Chap. I. of poets, the cant of sentimentalists, and the extrava- gance of some who should have known better, a counterfeit image has been tricked out, which might seek in vain for its likeness through every comer of the habitable earth; an image bearing no more resemblance to its original than the monarch of the tragedy and the hero of the epic poem bear to their living prototypes in the palace and the camp. The shadows of his wilderness home, and the darker mantle of his own inscrutable reserve, have made the Indian warrior a wonder and a mystery. Yet to the eye of rational observation there is nothing l intel- ligible in him. He is full, it is true, of contradic- tion. He deems himself the centre of greatness and renown; his pride is proof against the fiercest tor- ments of fire and steel ; and yet the same man would beg for a dram of whiskey, or pick up a crust of bread thrown to him like a dog, from the tent door of the traveller. At one moment, he is wary and cautious to the verge of cowardice; at the next, he abandons himself to a very insanity of recklessness ; and the habitual self-restraint which throws an impenetrable veil over emotion is joined to the ''inbridled passions of a madman or a beast. Such inconsistencies, strange as they seem in our eyes, when viewed under a novel aspect, are but the ordinary incidents of humanity. The qualities of the mind are not uniform in their action tliroui^h all the relations of life. With different men, and dif- ferent races of men, pride, valor, prudence, have Chap. L] THE INDIAN CHARACTER. 46 door and he Qcss ; an the onr t the ■es of ou|Th m dif- have different forms of manifestation, and where in one instance they lie dormant, in another they are keenly awake. The conjunction of greatness and littleness, meanness and pride, is older than the days of the patriarchs; and such antiquated phenomena, dis- played under a new form in the unreflecting, undis- ciplined mind of a savage, call for no special wonder, but should rather be classed with the other enigmas of the fathomless human heart. The dissecting knife of a Rochefoucault might lay bare matters of no less curious observation in the breast of every man. Nature has stamped the Tndian with a hard and stem physiognomy. Ambition, revenge, envy, jealousy, arc his ruling passions; and his cold temperament is little exposed to those effeminate vices which are the bane of milder races. With him revenge is an overpowering instinct; nay, more, it is a point of honor and a duty. His pride sets all language at defiance. He loathes the thought of coercion ; and few of his race have ever stooped to discharge a menial office. A wild love of liberty, an utter intolerance of control, lie at the basis of his character, and fire his whole existence. Yet, in spite of this haughty independence, he is a devout hero-worshipper; and high achievement in war or policy touches a chord to which his nature never fails to respond. He looks up with admiring reverence to the sages and heroes of his tribe ; and it is this principle, joined to the respect for age springing from the patriarchal element in his social system, which, 46 INDIAN TRIBES. { [Chap. I. beyond all others, contributes union and harmony to the erratic members of an Indian counnunity. With him the love of glory kindles into a burning passion ; and to allay its cravings, he will dare cold and famine, fire, tempest, torture, and death itself. These generous traits are overcast by much that is dark, cold, and sinister, by sleepless distrust, and rankling jealousy. Treacherous himself, he is always suspicious of treachery in othei"s. Brave as he is, — and few of mankind are braver, — he will vent his passion by a secret stab rather than an open blow. Plis warfare is full of ambuscade and stratagem ; and he never rushes into battle with that joyous self- abandonment with which the warriors of the Gothic races flung themselves into the ranks of their enemies. In his feasts and his drinking bouts we find none of that robust and full-toned mirth which reigned at the rude carousals of our barbaric ancestry. He is never jovial in his cups, and maudlin sorrow or maniacal rage is the sole result of his potations. Over all emotion he throws the veil of an iron self-control, originating in a peculiar form of pride, and fostered by rigorous discipline from childhood upward. He is trained to conceal passion, and not to subdue it. The inscrutable warrior is aptly imaged by the hackneyed figure of a volcano covered with snow ; and no man can say when or where the wild-fire will burst forth. This shallow self-mastery serves to give dignity to public deliberation, and harmony to social life. Wrangling and quarrel are li Chap. I.] THE INDIAN CHARACTER. 47 at is or not ptiy ered the tery and ■L are strangers to an Indian dwelling; and while an assembly of the ancient Gauls was garrulous as a convocation of magpies, a Roman senate might have taken a lesson from the grave solemnity of an Indian council. In the midst of his family and friends, he hides affections, by nature none of the most tender, under a mask of icy coldness ; and in the torturing fires of his enemy, the haughty sufferer maintains to the last his look of grim defiance. His intellect is as peculiar as his moral organiza- tion. Among all savages, the powera of perception preponderate over those of reason and analysis ; but this is more especially the case with the Indian. An acute judge of character, at least of such parts of it as his experience enables him to comprehend ; keen to a proverb in all exercises of war and the chase, he seldom traces effects to their causes, or follows out actions to their remote results. Though a close observer of external nature, he no sooner attempts to account for her phenomena than he involves himself in the most ridiculous absurdities ; and quite content with these puerilities, he has not the least desire to push his inquiries further. His curiosity, abundantly active within its own narrow circle, is dead to all things else ; and to attempt rousing it from its torpor is but a bootless task. He seldom takes cognizance of general or abstract ideas; and his language has scarcely the power to express them, except through the medium of figures drawn from the external world, and often highly picturesque and forcible. The f'i .(! m i 48 INDIAN TRIBES. [Chap. I. absence of reflection makes him grossly improvident, and unfits him for pursuing any complicated scheme of war or policy. Some races of men seem moulded in wax, soft and melting, at once plastic and feeble. Some races, like some metals, combine the greatest flexibility with the greatest strength. But the Indian is hewn out of a rock. You can rarely change the form without destruction of the substance. Races of inferior energy have possessed a power of expansion and assimilation to which he is a stranger ; and it is this fixed and rigid quality which has proved his ruin. He will not learn the arts of civilization, and he and his forest must periaa together. The stern, unchang- ing features of his mind excite our admiration from their very immutability; and we look with deep interest on the fate of this irreclaimable son of the wilderness, the child who will not be weaned from the breast of his rugged mother. And our interest increases when we discern in the unhappy wanderer the germs of heroic virtues mingled among his vices, — a hand bountiful to bestow as it is rapacious to seize, and even in extremest famine, imparting its last morsel to a fellow-sufferer ; a heart which, strong- in friendship as in hate, thinks it not too much to lay down life for its chosen comrade ; a soul true to its own idea of honor, and burning with an unquench- able thirst for greatness and renown. The impiisoned lion in the showman's cage differs not more widely from the lord of the desert than the Chap. I.] THE INDIAN CHARACTER. 49 beggarly frequenter of frontier garrisons and dram- shops differs from the proud denizen of the woods. It IS in his native wilds alone that the Indian must be seen and studied. Thus to depict him is the aim of the ensuing History; and if, from the shades of rock and forest, the savage features should look too grimly forth, it is because the clouds of a tempestuous war have cast upon the picture their murky shadows and lurid fires. VOL. I.— 4 THE OREGON TRAIL. CHAPTER I. THE FRONTIER. UST spring 1846, was a busy season in the city part of the countiy preparing for the journey U> Oregon and Cdifornia, but an unusual numb^^ ot ior banta 14. The hotels were crowded and th« «iths and saddle, were kept constant; to fc Ities l;? T ""' •"^"■P"^"*^ ^- the'different parties of travellers. Steamboate were leaving the levee and passing up the Missouri, crowded wth passengei^ on their way to the frontier. In one of these, the "Radnor," since snagged and a mjselt, left St. Louis on the twenty-eighth of April, on a tour of curiosity and amusenient to the Boeky Mountains. The boat was loaded until he water broke alternately over her guards. Her ^ppfr form, for the Santa F^ trade, ajid her hold was 4 THE OREGON TRAIL. crammed with goods for the same destination. There were also the equipments and provisions of a party of Oregon emigrants, a band of mules and horses, piles of saddles and harness, and a multitude of nonde- script articles, indispensable on the prairies. Almost hidden in this medley was a small French cart, of the sort very appropriately called a "mule-killer," beyond the frontiers, and not far distant a tent, together with a miscellaneous assortment of boxes and barrels. The whole equipage was far from prepos- sessing in its appearance ; yet, such as it was, it was destined to a long and arduous journey on which the persevering reader will accompany it. The passengers on board the "Radnor" corre- t ponded with her freight. In her cabin were Santa Fd traders, gamblers, speculators, and adventurers of various descriptions, and her steerage was crowded with Oregon emigrants, "mountain men," negroes, and a party of Kanzas Indians, who had been on a visit to St. Louis. Thus laden, the boat struggled upward for seven or eight days against the rapid current of the Missouri, grating upon snags, and hanging for two or three hours at a time upon sand-bars. We entered the mouth of the Missouri in a drizzling rain, but the weather soon became clear, and showed distinctly the broad and turbid river, with its eddies, its sand- bars, its ragged islands and forest-covered shores. The Missouri is constantly changing its course, wear- ing away its banks on one side, while it forms new THE FRONTIER. ones on the other. Its channel is continually shift- ing. Islcinds arc formed, and then washed away, and while the old forests on one side are undermined and swept off, a young growth springs up from the new soil upon the other. With all these changes, the water is so charged with mud and sand that, in spring, it is perfectly opnque, and in a few minutes deposits a sediment an inch thick in the bottom of a tumbler. The river was now high; but when wo descended in the autumn it was fallen ver}^ low, and all the secrets of its treacherous shallows were ex- posed to view. It was frightful to see the dead and broken trees, thick-set as a military abattis, firmly imbedded in the sand, and all pointing down stream, ready to impale any unhappy steamboat that at high water should pass over them. In five or six days we began to see signs of the great western movement that was taking place. Parties of emigrants, with their tents and wagons, were encamped on open spots near the bank, on their way to the common rendezvous at Independence. On a rainy day, near sunset, we reached the landing of this place, which is some miles from the river, on the extreme frontier of Missouri. The scene was characteristic, for here were represented at one view the most remarkable features of this wild and enter- prising region. On the muddy shore stood some thirty or forty dark slavish-looking Spaniards, gazing stupidly out from beneath their broad hats. They were attached to one of the Santa Fd companies, 6 THE OREGON TRAIL. it lAl W^ Ni Ni i: n whose wagons were crowded together on the banks above. In the midst of these, crouching over a smouldering lire, was a group of Indians, belonging to a remote Mexican triln?. One or two French huntei's from the mountains, with their long hair and buckskin dresses, were looking at the boat; and seated on a log close at hand were three men, with rifles lying across their knees. The foremost of these, a tjill, strong figure, with a clear blue eye and an open, intelligent face, might very well represent that race of restless and intrepid pioneers whose axes and rifles have opened a path from the Alleghanies to the western prairies. He was on his way to Oregon, probably a more congenial field to him than any that now remained on this side of the great plains. Early on the next morning we reached Kanzas, about five hundred miles from the mouth of the Missouri. Here we landed, and leaving our equip- ments in charge of Colonel Cliick, whose log-house was the substitute for a tavern, we set out in a wagon for Westport, where we hoped to procure mules and horses for the journey. It was a remarkably fresh and beautiful May morn- ing. The woods, through which the miserable road conducted us, were lighted by the bright sunshine and enlivened by a multitude of birds. We overtook on the way our late fellow-travellers, the Kii'^ Indians, who, adorned with all their finery, .e proceeding homeward at a round pace; and whatever THE FRONTIER. lorn- road hine took .ever they might have seemed on board the boat, they made a very striking and picturesijue feature in the forest hmdacape. Westport was full of Indians, whose little ahagiify ponies were tied by dozens along the houses and fenees. Sacs and Foxes, with shaved heads jind painted faees, Shawanoes and Delawarcs, fluttering in calico frocks and turbans, VV'yandots dressed like white men, and a few wretched Ivanzas wrapped in old blankets, were strolling about the streets, or lounging in and out of the shops and houses. As 1 stood at the door of the tavern, I saw a remarkable-looking pei-sonage coming up the street, lie had a ruddy face, garnished with the stumps of a bristly red beard and moustache; on one side of his head was a round cap with a knob at the top, such as Scottish laborers sometimes wear; his coat was of a nondescript form, and made of a gray Scotch plaid, with the fringes hanging all about it; he wore trousers of coarse homespun, and hob-nailed shoes; and to complete his equipment, a little black pipe was stuck in one corner of his mouth. In this curious attire, I recognized Captain C , of the British army, who, with his brother, and Mr. R , an English gentle- man, was bound on a hunting expedition across the continent. I had seen the captain and his compan- ions at St. Louis. They had now been for some time at Westport, making preparations for their departure, and waiting for a reinforcement, since they were too few in number to attempt it alone. They might, it 8 THE OREGON TRAIL. 1 3 1.' ! . i I :■ ii^ '•; >i,v' tit is true, have joined some of the parties of emigrants who were on the point of setting out for Oregon and California ; but they professed great disinclination to have any connection with the "Kentuckj'- fellows." The captain now urged it upon us that we should join forces and proceed to the mountains in company Feeling no greater partiality for thj society of tne emigrants than they did, we thought the arrangement a good one, and consented to it. Our future fellow- travellers had installed themselves in a little log- house, where we found them surrounded by saddles, harness, guns, pistols, telescopes, knives, and, in short, their complete appointments for the prairie. R , who had a taste for natural history, sat at a table stuffing a woodpecker; the brother of the captain, who was an Irishman, was splicing a trail- rope on the floor. The captain pointed out, with much complacency, the different articles of their outfit. "You see," said he, "that we are all old travellers. I am convinced that no party ever went upon the prairie better provided." The hunter whom they had employed, a surly-looking Canadian, named Sorel, and Uieir muleteer, an American ruffian from St- Louis, were lounging about the building. In a little log stable close at hand were their horses and mules, selected with excellent judgment by the captain. We left them to complete their arrangements, while we pushed our own to all convenient speed. The emigrants, for whom our friends professed such con- THE FRONTIER. 9 the /hilfl The con- tempt, were encamped on the prairie about eight or ten miles distant, to the number of a thousand or more, and new parties were constantly passing out from Independence to join them. They were in great confusion, holding meetings, passing resolu- tions, and drawing up regulations, but unable to unite in the choice of leaders to conduct them across the prairie. Being at leisure one day, I rode over to Independence. The town was crowded. A mul- titude of shops had sprung up to furnish the emi- grants and Santa F^ traders with necessaries for their journey ; and there was an incessant hammering and banging from a dozen blacksmiths' sheds, where the heavy wagons were being repaired, and the horses and oxen shod. The streets were thronged with men, horses*, and mules. While I was in the town, a train of emigrant wagons from Illinois passed through, to join the camp on the prairie, and stopped in the principal street. A multitude of healthy children's faces were peeping out from under the covers of the wagons. Here and there a buxom damsel was seated on horseback, holding over her sunburnt face an old umbrella or a parasol, once gaudy enough, but now m serably faded. The men, very sober-looking coun- trymen, stood about their oxen; and as I passed I noticed three old fellows, who, with their long whipa in their hands, were zealously discussing the doctrino of regeneration. The tiuigrants, however, are not all of this stamp. Among them are some of the vilest outcasts in the country. I have often per- 10 THE OREGON TRAIL. it plexed myself to divine the various motives that give impulse to this migration; but whatever they may be, whether an insane hope of a better condition in life, or a desire of shaking off restraints of law and society, or mere restlessness, certain it is, that mul- titudes bitterly repent the journey, and, after they have reached the land of promise, are happy enougli to escape from it. In the course of seven or eight days we had brought our preparations nearly to a close. Meanwhile our friends had completed theirs, and, becoming tired of Wcstport, they told us that they would set out in advance, and wait at the crossing of the Kanzas till we should come up. Accordingly R and the muleteer went forward with the wagon and tent, while the captain and his brother, together with Sorel, and a trapper named Boisverd, who had joined tiiem, followed with the band of horses. The com- mencement of the journey was ominous, for the captain was scarcely a mile from Wcstport, riding along in state at the head of his party, leading his intended buffalo horse by a rope, when a tremendous thunder-storm came on and drenched them all to the skin. They hurried on to reach the place, about seven miles off, where R was to have had the camp in readiness to receive them. But this prudent person, wlien he saw the storm approaching, had selected a sheltered glade in the woods where he pitched his tent, and was sipping a comfortable cup of coffee while the captain galloped for miles beyond THE FRONTIER. 11 our id of it in still L tlie tent, with lined com- the iding g l^is iidous .0 the about d the ludent had Ire he le cup eyond through the rain to look for him. At length the storm cleared away, and the sharp-eyed trapper suc- ceeded in discovering his tent ; R had by this time finish .^d his coffee, and was seated on a buffalo- robe smoking his pipe. The captain was one of the most easy-tempered men in existence, so he bore hia ill-luck with great composure, shared the dregs of the coffee with his brother, and lay down to sleep in his wet clothes. We ourselves had our share of the deluge. We were leading a pair of mules to Kanzas when the storm broke. Such sharp and incessant flashes of lightning, such stunning and continuous thunder, I had never known before. The woods were completely obscured by the diagonal sheets of rain that fell with a heavy roar, and rose in spray from the ground, and tlie streams swelled so rapidly that we could hardly ford them. At length, looming through the rain, we saw the log-house of Colonel Chick, who received us with his usual bland hospitality; while his wife, who, though a little soured and stiffened by a long course of camp-meetings, was not behind him in goodwill, supplied us with the means of bettering our drenched and bedraggled condition. The storm clear- ing away at about i nset opened a noble prospect from tlie porch of the colonel's house, which stands upon a high hill. The sun streamed from the break- ing clouds upon the sv/ift and angry IMissouri, and on i-he vast expanse of forest that stretched from itfi banks back to the distant bluffs. 12 THE OREGON TRAIL. ) 'I Returning on the next day to Westport, we received a message from the captain, who had ridden back to deliver it in person, but finding that we were in Kanzas, had intrusted it with an acquaintance of his named Vogel, who kept a small grocery and liquor shop. Whiskey, by the way, circulates more freely in Westport than is altogether safe in a place where every man carries a loaded pistol in his pocket. As we passed this establishment we saw Vogel's broad German face thrust from his door. He said he had something to tell us, and invited us to take a dram. Neither his liquor nor his message was very pala- table. The captain had returned to give us notice that R , who assumed the direction of his party, had determined upon another route from that agreed upon between us; and instead of taking the course of the traders, had resolved to pass northward by Fort Leavenworth, and follow the path marked out by the dragoons in their expedition of last summer. To adopt such a plan without consulting us, we looked upon as a high-handed proceeding; but sup- pressing our dissatisfaction as well as we could, we made up our minds to join them at Fort Leaven- worth, where they were to wait for us. Accordingly, our preparation being now complete, we attempted one fine morning to begin our journey. The first step was an unfortunate one. No sooner were our animals put in harness than the shaft-mule reared and plunged, burst ropes and straps, and nearly flung the cart into the Missouri. Finding THE FRONTIER. 13 her wholly uncontrollable, we exchanged her for another, with which we were furnished by our friend Mr. Boone, of Westport, a grandson of Daniel Boone tne pioneer. This foretaste of prairie experience was very soon followed by another. Westport was scarcely out of sight when we encountered a deep muddy gully, of a species that afterward became bi^t too familiar to us, and here for the space of an hour or more the cart stuck fast.