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THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY AND GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED TO FRANCIF PARKMAN, WHOSE O..VIUS ..V. AT.M.ME.VTS; WHOSE P.xr.KX AXn ..BOH.OUS ST.n.KS .0« NEARLV TWO.SCORK VEAES; WHOSE .XTEXHEP TRAVELS TOROUOH THE -.LOEH PARTS OF THIS CONTINENT POR PERSONA. INTERCOURSE WITH THE INDIANS; ANO WHOSE PERSEVERING RESEARCH THROUGH KOREIGN HE HAS A.REAnv ILLUSTRATED IN SEVEN VOLUMES. - STILL AWAITING OTHERS, — COVERING THE PERfOD OF EXPLORATION, ENTERPRISE, AND DOMINION OF FRANCE IN NORTH AMERICA. I PREFACE. The study and research given to the preparation of the contents of this vohime liave occupied much of tlie time of the writer for more tlian ten years. Portions of it, under titles indicated by tliose of its chapters, were the substance of a course of Lectures dehvered between February 18 and Marcli 28, 1879, before the Lowell Institute of Boston. I have been disinclined to present, in such a number and array of foot-notes as would have been necessary, all the sources of information, the author- ity for statements, or the grounds for opinions and conclusions on which I have relied. To havo done this would have required something but little short of a complete bibliography of the copious and nnd- tiform literature relating to our aboriji'ines. What may be classed as the Public Documents illustrative of it are very voluminous, and are of course of the highest authority and value. General and local histories have from time to time given sometimes thorough, but often only superficial, attention to the viii PREFACE. more important relations of tins interesting tlienio. Travellers, tourists, hunters, explorers, scientific; commissions, military officers, missionaries, traders, and those wlio have lived among* the Indians many years, as captives taken in youth, have contributed volumes of great variety in style, contents, views, opinions, and judgments, all of them mutually il- lustrative, helpful, and instructive, thougl by no means in accord in their representations of the character and habits, condition, capacity, religion, and general development of the various triljcs of the red men, at different periods and in different i^arts of the country. A single paragraph, sometimes a single sentence, in the following pages, is a digest or sunmiary of facts, statements, or opinions, gath- ered from several volumes, after an attempt at a ftiir estimate of the fidelity and judgment of their authors. Considering how rich in material, inci- dent, and character the whole sul)ject is for the literature of romance, it is surprising how little it has prompted of that character. Probably this is to be accounted to the stern reality in fact and record, which has disinclined writers and readers to idealize its actors and incidents. Indians, as subjects for romance, may engage a class of writers in an age to como. For the reason stated above for limiting the num- ber of foot-notes, I have given only such as authen- ticate the more important statements and sources ntEFACR. ix o mfo™„„„n indicated in the text of tl.o volume TI.0 opm.ons wl.icl, I have ventured to express on contested points I must leave to be estin 'ed for their ,ve,ght or wisdom by different readers . °r"''"""' '■"'"""'""^ '° ^'"■''■■""'''••^ to persons, .ncdents, or faets may be noticed in the followin,^ pases, as they present themselves in some different relations to periods or subjects under which the contents of the vohime are disposed. Boston, June 1, 1882. CONTENTS. INTRODUCTORY. General Survey of the Subject. Pages 1-38. Origin of the Xame Indian, 1. Archaeology of tlie Continent, 4. In- dian Antiquities, 5. The Xew Continent, 7. Its Promises and its IlUisions, 9. Wilderness Attractions, 11. The Boon to Humanity, 1;]. Grandeur and Extent, 15. Vanished Tribes, 17. The In- dian Nemesis, 19. benefits and AVrongs from the Europeans, 21. Queen Isabella pleading for the Savages, L';J. Early Efforts for the Indians, 2."). The f'liildren of Nature, 27. First Relations be- tween the Races, 20. Broken Promises, 31. Steady Pressure upon the Indians, 33. The Present " Indian Question," 35. The Fate of the Aborigines, 37. CHAPTER I. Sp.wisii Discoverers and Invaders. Pages 39-81. Columbus's First Meeting with the Natives, 40. First Acts of Vio- lence, 42. The Colony of Navidad, 43. Its Fate, 4.5. Hostilities and Alliances with Natives, 47. The Hammock and the Hurri- cane, 49. Ruthless Spirit of the Invaders. 51. The Church and Heathendom, 53. Las Casas, 54. Religion of Conquest, 5.5. Ra- pacity and Zeal, 57. The " Requisition," .59. The Natives as Heathen, Gl. Enslaving of the Natives, (13. Cruelties and Out- rages, Go. Transportation of Indians as Slaves, G7. Destruction or Conversion, GO. The Dominican Friars, 71. Doctrines of Hell and Baptism, 73. Hunuin Sacrifices and Cannibalism, 75. Rav- ages of De Soto, 77. The Spaniards on the Pacific, 79. Priestly ^lethods, 81. The California Missions, S3. Xll CONTENTS. CHAPTER II. The Indian. — His Origin, Numbers, Person, and Character. Pages 85-130. Arcliseology, 85. Communal Life, 87. Relative Place of the Savage, 8!J. Avei'age Intelligence, 91. The Mound liuilders, !)3. Abo- riginal Population, U5. Resources of Life, 97. Endowment of the Indian, 99. Indian Character, 101. Indian Qualities, 105. Cat- lin's Views of, 100. Major Campion's, 101. General Custer's Opinions and Estimate, 10-1-109. Lieutenant Dodge's Estimate, 109. Romantic Views, 111. Indian State and Royalty, 113. Dr. Palfrey's and Governor Arnold's Views, 114. Indian Languages, 117. Indian Vocabularies, 119. Ferocity of Savages, 121. Tor- turing of Prisoners, ll23. A scene of Torture, 125. Indian Medi- cal Practice, 127. Health and Disease, 131. The " Suderie," 132. Disposal of the Dead, 133. Religion of the Indians, 13G-139. CHAPTER III. The Indian in his Condition, Resources, and Surroundings. Pages 110-200. Limitations of Savagism, Ml. Tiie Savage a Child of Nature, 143. Conformed to Nature, 145. Indian Food and Cookery, 147. Cos- tume and Dwelling, 149. Tiie Medicine-Bag, 151. Tlie Indian on the Water- Ways, 153-150. His Woods-Craft and Rovings, 157. Relationship to Animals, 159. Aboriginal Names, 101. The Indian Canoe, 1 0.5-108. The ^loccason, 100. The Snow-Slioe, 171. The Indian in Winter, 173. His Cornfields, 175. Econ- omy, 177. Connnunication, 179. Interpreters, 181. Sign-Lan- guage, 183. (Jambling, 185. Games and Amusements, 187. The Hunting-Season, 189. Superstitions, 191. A AVarrior, 193. War- Parties, 195. The Gantlet and the Torture, 197. Tribal Govern- ment, 199. Cliief tains and Orators, 201. The Indian " Pony," 203. The Pappooses, 205. Education, 206. CHAPTER IV. Indian Tenure of Land as viewed by European Invaders and Colonists. Pages 207-258. Our National Domain, 208. Land Titles, 209. Right by Conquest, 211. Indian Po.ssession, 213. Thinness of Population, 215. In- dian Internecine Strifes, 217. Invasion, 219. Dispossessing the CONTENTS. Xlll Natives, 221. Rights of Xoinads, 223. Royal Grants, 225. Eu- ropean Claims, 227. Indians as .Subjects, 220. Prerogatives of Civilization, 231, Over Barbarism, 233. Indians as "Vermin," 235. Scriptural Authority, 237. Plea for Posseshiou, 239. In- dian Deeds, 2-11. Vagueness of Indian Rights, 2-13 The Free Wilderness, 245. Remuneration to Indians, 247. Rights as a Race, 249. Encroachments, 251. European Occupancy, 253. Conveyances by Indians, 255. Policy of our Goverimient, 257. CHAPTER v. The Frexcii and the Indians. Pages 259-325. Jlr. Parkman's Works on " New France," 259-202. The Spaniards in Florida, 203. French Fishing Voyages, 205. French and Span- iards, 207. The French in Florida, 209. English Slave-ships, 271. Contests in Florida, 273. De Gourgues in Florida, 275. French in Acadia, 277. Champlain in QuebeC; 270. His Indian Allies and Foes, 281. French in Alabama, 283. French in Louisi- ana, 285. French Claims, 287. French Explorers, 2S9. Voya- geurs and Coureurs de Bois, 291. Frenchmen becoming Indians, 293. Traders in Canada, 295. Catholics and Huguenots, 297. RecoUets in Canada, 299. French Ilali'-breeds, 301. The Iroquois, 303. Huguenots in Canada, 305. Influence of the Priests, 307. Death of Father Ralle, 309. The Acadians, 311. Their Removal, 313. Their Dispersion, 315. French and Indian War, 317. Ces- sion to England, 319. Conspiracy of Pontiac, 321-325. CHAPTER VI. Colonial Relations with the Indians. Pages 32G-3G7. New England Colonists, 327. Permanent Colonists, 329. Sales of Land, 331. War of Race, 333. Purchase of Indian Titles, 335- 338. King Philip's War, 330. The Pe.piot War, 341. Sale of Arms to Indians, 343. Wars in "S'irginia, 345. Confederation of Colonies, 347. English Advances, 349. Forest Forts, 351. For- est Sieges, 353. Indian Barbarities, 355. Quakers in the War, 857. The Frontiers, 359. Jlilitary Roads and Posts, 301. Cai> tives in the Wilderness, 303. Indianized Whites, 305. Roamers and Settlers, 300, 307. XIV CONTENTS. CHAPTER VII. Missionary Effokts among the Indians. Pages 368-47G. General Remarks on Mission Aims and Efforts, 3G9. Different Esti- mates of tlie Work, 371. Discordant Tciicliings, 37o. Salvation and Civilization, 375. The Gospel Message, 377. Differences of Method, 379. Perplexities of Doctrine, 381. An Indian Agnostic, 383. — Roman Catholic Missions, 3bo. The First Converts, 387. Tlie Franciscan Friars, 389. Tlie Training of tlie Jesnits, 391. The Jesuit "Relations," 393. Tlie Jesuit in Residence, 395. Jesuit Instructions, 397. The Success of the Jesuits, 399. Devo- tion of the Jesuits, 401. Tragic Fate of Missionaries, 103. Jesuit Mission Stations, 405. Journal of a Jesuit, 407. Jesuit Altar Ornaments, 409. Training of Indian Xeophytes, 411. Conference between Jesuit and Indian, 413. Jesuit Arguments, 415. Fate of the Huron Missions, 417. — Protestant Jlissions, 419. Delayed in Massachusetts, 421. Eliot and Mayliew, 4"J3. Eliot learning the Indian Language, 425. The Indians in Training, 427. A Jesuit Diplomatist in Boston, 429. Reception of Drnillettes, 431. He visits Eliot, 433. Eliot's Cautious Preparations, 43o. Indian Town at Xatick, 437. Seclusion of the Indians, 439. Eliot's Faith and I'erseverance, 441. The Indians in Argument, 443. Indian ^lunicipality, 445. Examination of Converts, 447. Eliot's Work in Translation, 449. His Indian Scholarship, 451. Written Indian Language, 453. Printing of Indian Bible, 455. Prospects of Success, 457. Calamitous Experiences, 459. Panic in Pliilip's War, 401. Removal of the Indians, 403. Partial Restoration, 405. Indians at Harvard College, 407. Severity of Puritan Dis- cipline, 409. Eliot's Successors, 471. Indians on the Columbia. 473. Moravian Missions, 475. CHAPTER VIII. Relations of Gkeat Biutain with the Indians. Pages 477-513. British America, 479-482. The Hudson Bay Company, 483-490. Rivalries in the Fur-Trade, 491. Tlie Red River Settiement, 493. Savage Allies of Great Britain, 495. Savage Neutrals or Allies, 497. Bourgoyne's Use of Savages, 499. Washington's Apprehen- sions, 501. British ]\Ialiguant Policy, 503. General Sullivan's Campaign, 505. Embarrassed Relations, 507. An Engli.shman at Vancouver, 509. Canadian Indian Commission, 511-513. CONTENTS. XV CHAPTER IX. The United States Government and the Indians. Pages 514-552. Congressional Policy, 515. Conduct toward the Natives, 517. Diffi- culties and Embarrassments, 519. Changing Conditions of the Problem, 521. Peace Medals for Chiefs, 523. Visits of Chiefs to Washington, 525. Wise and Helpful Measures, 527. Teciimseh's Confederacy, 529. The Massacre at Fort Mims, 531. Opinions of our Statesmen, 533. Baffled Statesmanship, 535. Inconstant Policy, 537. Treaties in the Forest, 539. Number and Terms of Treaties, 541. Validity of the Treaties, 513. Violated Pledges, 515. Spoils of the Black Hills, 547. Formalities of a Council, 549. Mistakes in Management, 551. CHAPTER X. Military and Peace Policy with the Indians. Pages 553-58(3. Present Relations with the Indians, 554. As Neighbors, 555. Pres- ent Embarrassments, 557. The Indian Bureau, 55!). Strictures on the War Policy, 5()1. Faults of the Peace Connnission, 503- 505. Conflicting Charges, 507. Wasted Benevolence, 509. Cost of Peace or War, 571. Compulsory Labor, 573. Modified Cove- nants, 575. Security through Improvements, 577. The Indian Territory, 579. Trespasses on Reservations, 581. Semi-Civilized Tribes, 583. Indian Conmmnism, 585. CHAPTER XI. The Indians under Civilization- Pages 587-630. Drawbacks of Civilization, 589. Attractions of Savagery, 591. Arbi- trary Civilization, 503. Resistance to Civilization, 595. Nature and Conventionalism, 597. Enforced Civilization, 599. Stages of Progress, 001. Disappointments and Failures, 003. Reversion- ary Instincts, C05-008. I'luas for Savagery, 009. Indianized Whites, 611. White Captives adopted, 013. Indian Diplomacy, 615. Pleas against Civilization, ()17. Civilization repudiated, 019. Forlorn Remnants of Tribes, 621. Semi-Civilization, (i23. Domestic Animals as Civilizers, 625. Patient and Persistent Ef- forts, 627. A Ray of Hope, 629. INTEODUCTORY. GENERAL PURVEY OF THE SUBJECT. " Why do you, White Men, call us Indians ? " This was a question asked many times, on many occasions, in widely distant places, by the aborigines of this country, when they began to converse familiarly with the new comers from across the sea. The question was a very natural one under the circumstances. The name " Indians" was a strange one to those to whom it was thus assigned. Tliey did not know themselves by the title. They had never heard the word till the white men addressed them by it. Courtesy, in a wilderness as well as amid civilized scenes, would have seemed to allow that when nameless strangers met to in- troduce themselves to each other, each party should have been at liberty to name himself. But the savage curiously inquired of the white man, " Why do you call us Indians?" If, before giving an answer, the white man had asked, " What do you call yourselves ? " he too would have re- ceived but little satisfaction. It does not appear that our aborigines had any one comprehensive name, used among themselves, to designate their whole race on this continent. They contented themselves with tribal or local titles. Nor is it likely that every white man to whom the red man put the question, " Why do you call us Indians ? " would or could have given the intelligible and true answer INTRODUCTORY. to it. The name applied to the aborigines of this conti- nent perpetuates for all time the original illusion and lure mider the prompting and impulse of which this continent was first brought to the knowledge of Europeans. There is myth, there is poetic legend, there may be something which looks like testimony, about visits by dwellers on the Old World to this so called New World, before the historic voyages of Columbus and his successors. But there is nothing which can stand the severest tests of evidence for those visits as matters of positive fact. At any rate, if there were such visits they bore no fruits, left no tokens of use or occupancy, and did not bring the dwellers on either hemisphere into intercourse. Nor did Columbus when on our soil, not even to the day of his death, know that lie had opened a new continent, with a new race of men. The America that we know, as substantially two continents, — both of them together stretching to a greater length than Europe, Asia, and Africa, — floating between two vast oceans, was a realm that he never sought, nor ever dreamed of, nor knew that he had reached when he stood upon it. Columbus held this globe of earth to be much smaller than it is, — to be in fact of the size which it would have been if America and the Pacific Ocean had been left out of it. What he had sought for, after fourteen years of impor- tunate pleading for patronage from European monarchs, what he supposed he had found, as he lay upon his death- bed, was a sort of back-door entrance to the Indies. That gorgeous realm, — the slender positive knowledge of which to Europeans was heightened by all the inventiveness of hu- man fancy and all the glow and craving of greed, investing it with fabulous charms and glitter as a vast mine of gold and gems awaiting the spoiler, — had been opened vaguely and invitingly to here and there a land traveller and a ven- turous mariner, on its western edge. It was a long and perilous route to it, either by land or sea. Columbus be- lieved that by sailing westward upon the Atlantic ho could NAME OP THE ABORIGINES. 3 l^-aguely a veil- ing and Ibus be- ic could strike it upon its rear coast, on its eastern shore. That is precisely what he thought he had done, first by touching some of its outlying islands, then on its main. And his constant (juestions on the spot were for Cathay, for the realm of Prcster John, the treasures of Indian mines. He was looking, not for America, but for India. And he was, as he believed, not in a new world, but on an edge of llie old familiar world. India it was to be all tlie way, and India it was at the end. On his fourth and last voyage, Columbus wrote from Veragua, to Ferdinand and Isabella, that he was within nineteen days' land journey of the Gan- ges. And so everything on his way and at the end of his way took a name from the lure and illusion under wliicli he won a higher renown of glory than he knew. The islands which he first reached became, as they are now, the West Indies. Tlie royal council in Spain which man- aged, or rather mismanaged, all that came of the great enterprise, became " The Council for the Indies ; " and tlie aborigines on these superb domains of forests, mountains, lakes, and rivers were called, and, if ever they shall have all vanished away, will be known in history, as " Indians." It is to be noted, however, that the French, who so soon after fi)llowcd the Spaniards by voyages to the southern and northern bounds on the mainland of our domain, did not adopt or use the word " Indians " as a name for the aborigines. I do not recall a single case of its use by any of the French explorers. They uniformly spoke and wrote of the natives as " les Sauvages," — the savages. Occa- sionally a reference may be found in which a French writer will use the expression, " The Indians, as the English call the savages." Deferring to future discussion the leading topics which this large subject will present to us, as we follow up the subsequent relations between the people of the Old World and those of the New, we may occupy ourselves in these introductory pages with a general view of the field before 1 I 4 INTRODUCTORY. US. We read with the historic interpretation of the past wliat nearly four centuries ago was veiled in the mystery of the unknown and the future. For what were possibili- ties then we have now realities. The most interesting and e.xciting questions now held under discussion about our abo- rigines are, whethcL' the race is destined to absolute extinc- tion, and whether irresistible processes ai"c working to that result. A modihcation of the opinion that such must needs bo the fate of the red man suggests to us, that the only con- dition which will arrest that result is such a transformation of his habits, mode of life, and even of his nature, that those who in three or four generations may represent the stock, in pure or mixed descent, will have wholly parted with the original and distinctive characteristics of the race. If such an extinction of an aboriginal people is to be realized, their history ought to be well searched and attested before they pass away. Our knowledge of the natives of this continent must bo taken strictly as beginning with the first contact with them by Columbus on the islands, and by himself and his fol- lowers on the main. Of the legendary and mythological Sagas of the alleged visit of the Northmen there is, as has been said, no contemporaneous record, and no extant monument or token. The one hundred and twenty white men who formed the company of Columbus were the me- dium for introducing the people of the Old W^.^ud to those of the New. Columbus carried some of the natives to Spain on his first return voyage, and in 1508 the American savage was seen for the first time in France. Those who now represent the native race on this conti- nent are but little serviceable to tlic historian who seeks to investigate its antecedent state and fortunes. The funda- mental questions for the archa3ologist are, whether man is autochthonic or exotic here, and whether in ethnic unity or diversity. Agassiz told us that geologically tliis continent was the first part of the globe fitted for human habitation, ABCHiEOLOGY OP THE CONTINENT. and there are scientists who claim that the isthmus was the cradle of the world's civilization. But Sir John Lub- bock assures us that there are no physical or scientific tokens of human existence on the continent back of three thousand years. Of course it is not within the limited and appropriate design of these pages to enter into the substance and arguments of archa;ological science, as it opens its rich and profoundly interesting, though bewildering, discussions of prehistoric times and people on this continent. A half century ago the mounds and other earthworks in the great Western valleys engaged a curious interest, as tokens of the presence of a more advanced and intelligent representation of human beings than were those who were found in occu- pancy of the soil, and who were wholly ignorant of the builders or purpose of those mysterious works. But within quite recent years a far richer, yet still no less baffling and hardly more communicative, field of inquiry, research, and scientific theorizing has been opened to archaiologists, and, strangely enough, on the mainland of the continent nearest to the islands first visited by the Spaniards. Tlie pyramids and tombs of Egypt have found their rivals in the architec- tural remains of Palenque, in Chiapas, and in all the regions of the Isthmus and of Central America. It is claimed that these, and other tokens and relics associated with them, afford evidences of an ancient prehistoric civilization rival- ling that of Europe in the Middle Ages. The assumption falls as yet far short of proof. In the interest of historical and archaeological science, scholai's are left only to the ex})re8- sion of their murmurs and regrets that the first representa- tives of European civilization and intelligence, when opening a new world and an unknown stock of their own race to intercourse and inquiry, should have manifested not even an ordinary curiosity about those questions concerning the American aborigines which modern inquirers pursue with such diligence. Some of these questions, we naturally infer, might have been relieved of a part of the mystery and 6 INTRODUCTORY. I obscurity which they have for us, liad they drawn attention and investigation from the first and most intelligent of the Europeans who came into contact with the natives of the soil. But in this, as in so many other cases, it would have been easier to ask questions than to obtain satisfactory answers to them. It is utterly impossible for us now to reach anything more than proximate and conjectural esti- mates of the probable number of the aborigines, of their distribution over the continent, the density of the popula- tion in some favored spots, the extent of wholly lonely and uninhabited expanses, and the length of time during which any one tribe or confederacy of tribes had occupied the same regions. No satisfactory information is on record of anything more than ihe most trivial traditionary account of the fortunes of any tribe among them covering more than two generations previous to those then in life. Of course many of the questions which we are promjjtcd to ask con- cerning the primitive and prehistoric races on this conti- nent, as if it were a fresh and wholly indciicndent field of inquiry, are problems equally for the dwellers on the old continents themselves, with all their histories and monu- ments. The theory of the development or evolution of the human race from a lower order of animal is to be subjected to the same tests, illustrated by the same analogies, and met by the same arresting difficulties and challenges wherever specimens of that race are found. It is to be observed also that the first white comers here seem to have assumed what has ever since been substantially taken for granted, — that, though diversities of climate and of natural features and products over the breadth and length of the continent might result in differences of resource and advancement among various tribes, all the aborigines were essentially homoge- neous in type, character, and condition of life. Let us for a moment seize and hold in our minds the gorgeous dream of wealth and glory by which this continent was opened to Europeans, and improve it by an added touch ASPECT OP THE NEW WCRLD. ids the mtincnt d touch of fancy of our own. Suppose that this half of the earth, occun-boundcd, strctcliing from pole to jjolc, witii all its wealth of niatoriul, its vast and mighty resources, its scenes and furnishings for the life, the activity, and the happi- ness of man, — suj)pose that, as concerned its human in- habitants, it had proved to be directly op[)osite to what it was. Sup]iosc tliat it had been peopled hy a superior race, advanced in civilization, refi ..nncnt, art, culture, science, far at least, if not innneasuriil.ly, beyond the race whoso curiosity and greed had for the first time bridged the way between tliem. It might have been so. Taking into view the general average civilization of Europe at that time, we know that it was but rude and rough, with many elements of barbarism, heavily burdened with ignorance and super- stition, and convulsed year by year by local and extended wars. It might well have been that, folded within the depths of this continent, a people under the training and development of centuries, protected and fostered rather than disadvantaged by lack of commerce and intercourse with other peoples, should have enjoyed and improved this realm as we do now. Instead of the hordes of wild and naked savages, cowering in the forests, living by the chase, burrowing in smoky and filthy cabins, without arts, letters, laws, or the signs or promise of any advance in their gener- ations, there might have been men and women enjoying and enriched by all that can adorn and elevate human exist- ence. And these, when the ships of curious and craving adventurers touched their shores, or strangers trespassed on their well guarded domains, might have had the will and the knowledge, the skill and the enginery of battle and defence, to repel the invaders, to sink them in the sea, or leave them to starvation, keeping the ocean cordon inviolate around them. One other element must come into our sup- position. It is that of religion. Whatever religion that race imagined for this continent might have had and be- lieved, however pure and elevating in its influence, hov 8 INTRODUCTORY. ever firmly and devoutly held, so that the proffer to change it for another would be scorned and utterly withstood, — if that religion had not been in name or symbol Christian, it would at once have decided what must be the relations be- tween the jjcople and their visitors. As we shall see, the very axiom and conviction of right and duty for all Euro- pean discoverers of that day was that those of every race and clime who were outside of the fold of the Roman Church were heathen, uncovenanted and damned, and must come into it or perish. The fancy which 1 have ventured to suggest, — that the first European adventurers here might have found a conti- nent and people advanced above their own in intelligence, civilization, and all the ministering resources of life, — may find a semblance ajjproximating to reality in the recei)tion which has been accorded to the Mongolians from China. Those immigrants have certainly found here a land prefer- able for their wants and iiscs above that which they have left. They certainly cannot congratulate themselves on ohe warmth of the welcome whicli they have received. In- terested parties, those whose individual gains in connncrce or labor are served by these destitute and hungry and hum- ble people, — who thrive on stinted wages and 'cfusc food, — have been i)ronounccd public enemies for favorhig the in- coming of the Chinese. Among those directly concerned in the exciting question there is a bitter controversy whether this Mongolian race shall make further increase on our con- tinent, and whether those already here shall not be driven out. It is easy by the imagination, helped by some ready statistics and calculations, to forecast deploralde conse- quences from such an unchecked immigration. We are toid that there are more of wretched and starved millions of pop- ulation in China to-day than there are of all whites and Eu- ropeans in tlie United States, and that, if the way were left open and free for them to come, with their habits of industry and thrift they would soon have predominance here. The &J THE ILLUSION OP THE DISCOVERERS. 9 I future must provide lor that, as for many other serious prob- lems, social and political. We can only comfort ourselves with the fact that this continent, especially under Anglo- Saxon sway, has shown a wonderful power of digestion and assimilation of various peoples and nationalities. We have digested a large part of Ireland, and a considerable portion of Germany, — not, however, without some symptoms of a social and ])olitical dyspepsia. Dutch, Swedes, Scandina- vians, French, Italians, have also furnished us with a stim- ulative and an alterative diet; and we must leave to the wisest coxmcillors of our nation to dispose of the Mongo- lian element. But, instead of fn.Jing in this New World a people in a measure advanced in civilization, and capable of defensive resistance to invasion, those who were the first of Euro- peans to introduce themselves to another division of their own human race encountered only such as we still call savages, or, at least, barbarians. Even long after the lands discovered on this side of the Atlantic were known to form a new continent, no longer a part of India or Asia, America was regarded as simjily an interposed barrier on the course westerly from Europe to the fabled realm. Not for more than a hundred years fol- lowing upon the fix'st voyage of Columbus was this conti- nent sought or occupied solely for the magnificent ends which it has been realizing for nearly three centuries. The continent was bound to open a water-course to India, — a new and shorter route to its wealth and wonders. Tliat shortened route, Avhich even to this day we liave not given over seeking, was then a beguiling and constraining lure, which turned all considerate thought aside from tlie invit- ing shores and the inner depths of this splendid realm for toil and harvesting. The Spaniards pursued the search for that Indian highway near the south of the present bounds of our nation, and in so doii«g beheld the Pacific Sea, and opened California and Oregon. French, English, and Dutch I 10 INTRODUCTORY. navigators have pounded at the barriers of Polar ice in the vain attempt to pierce a passage, and have left the names of capes and bays for their epitaphs. The Spaniards might still ply their cupidity in drawing out the treasures from the mines of tlicir El Dorado in Mexico and Peru, and tlic efforts of the less greedy pioneer navigators from the other nations of Europe miglit still be spent upon finding a northern route opened for them to India. But at last the thrift and practical sagacity, chiefly of the English adventurers, began to rest upon the value and promise of tliis upper section of the continent for it- self alone. "Why go further? Why not stop here, and see what other forms of wealth and good beside gold and pearls may be found here?" These were questions then asked by those best able to answer them. From the mo- ment that the capabilities and the attracti(jns of the new realm fixed the thoughts and engaged the energies of wise and earnest men, tliese fair expanses began to oi)cn them- selves — as, by a continuous course of adventure and explo- ration, they have been doing ever since — to the noblest uses of man. Nor from the first wiser, yet hardly chastened, view taken of them by those who looked on them for themselves alone, did they lack eyes and minds apprecia- tive of tlicir grandeur, their beauty, and their fascination. With almost the sole exceptions of the Pilgrims at Ply- mouth, who first beheld their bleak and sandy land-fall under the desolation of its wintry aspect, the first Euro- peans who came with a view to stay in some part of North America, visitors or colonists, so timed tlieir voyages as to arrive at a destination or to skirt the shores in the beauty of the opening spring-time, the gay aspects of summer, or tlie golden glory of the autumn. The pages of their jour- nals gleam and glow with their enthusiastic pictures of the lovely aspects of Nature here, and the winning charms which beckoned them on to trace her from the shore through the river and the lake up into the recesses of THE JOY OP THE MARINERS. 11 ,teucd, ein for iprccia- iiation. at Ply- Aiul-fall Euro- North s as to beauty |nier, or ir jour- iirca of Icliarms shore sses of meadow, forest, and mountain. As we read the quaint epithets and the unslvillcd, thougli wonderfully expressive, terms and phrases — sometimes really gems of language — by which in short, strong touches they present the fea- tures of some new scene which first of civilized men they beheld, with all their senses quickened to joy, we become oblivious of the stern hardships and the ways of peril through which they had passed, and long that we too might share in the surprises and delights which they portray to us. After long and tempestuous voyages so unlilcc those by which we pass like shuttles across the ocean, — stived together in cramped vessels, seldom much exceeding, often not reaching, half a hundred tons burden ; most generally with scurvy and ship-fever among them ; weary of each other's company and the dreary monotony of days and niglits, of storms and calms ; subsisting upon odious food and stagnant water, while in vain craving something fresh and green, — the signs of bank and shoals and drifting weeds betokened the end of their sea course. Tbcir com- pass was bewildered: they had no charts. Then the small boat must be put to service, with its watchful crew, to sound the way on, to search for a passage, between reefs and rocks, with eyes ever open for each whitened tuft of water that crowned a breaker. Meanwhile they tell us of the fragrant breathings that came from the wooded and bushy shore, and how they drank in the odorous airs from sas- safras and piny groves, and liow they filled their water- butts at fresh springs, and gathered from shrub or bough or root the rich, green, juicy fruit or berry so racy in its flavor to the landed seaman. And then their pages fairly sparkle with tales of the vine-clad trees, the fields strewed with the white blossoms of the strawberry, the aroma of tbe juices of pine and fir and junii)cr, and all the luxurious vesture and charms of a teeming virgin soil. Nor were they insensible to the solemnities of the ])rimeval forests, the depths of their solitudes, the sombreness and 12 INTRODUCTORY. awe of their profound silence, broken only by the water-fall, the rushing deer, the rustling bough, the buzzing insect, the croaking frog. We shall soon read the charming descrip- tion which Columbus gave of the scene that first opened on the eyes of the Spaniards. The first adventurers, landing at the mouth of James River, in the very glory and gush of summer beauty in 1607, were in an ecstasy of exuberant delight at the scene, its sights and odors for the senses. The oysters, says George Percy, brother of the Duke of Northumberland, " lay on the ground as thick as stones, many with pearls in them ; the earth all flowing over with fair flowers of sundry colors and kinds, as though it had been in any garden or orchard in England ; the woods full of cedar and cypress trees, which issue out sweet gums like to balsam." And the veritable John Smith, whose prowess may cover his whole posterity by name, averred that " Heaven and earth never agreed better to frame a place for man's habitation." Governor Winthrop, reaching our own rude coast in June, 1030, wrote : " We had so pleasant a sweet air as did much refresh us; and there came a smell off the shoi'c like the smell of a garden." While our domain is arraying itself in the garb and finish of civilization, with its cities and manufactories, there is one of its ancient glories which our near posterity will never behold. It is that of the endless forest shad- owed with a deeper than a dim religious light, — a sombre and awful solitude, silent in the calm, but reverberating with yEolian blasts in summer or winter tempests. What a boon was offered to humanity in the Old World when the veil that had hidden this New World was pierced and lifted! Here was opened for humanity a fresh, fair field, substantially we may say untried, untilled, unpene- trated, and, as the new comers chose to regard it, in larger part unpeopled. We who live upon it have not yet taken the inventory of our possessions ; we know but little more THE BOON OP A NEW CONTINENT. 13 than its surface, nor can we cast the horoscope of its fu- ture. This we do know, tliat while humanity was trying its experiments with rising and falling empires in the Old World, exhausting as it seemed the zest and the possibili- ties of life, jaded and weary and foul, and often sinking in despair, here was a hidden realm of virgin earth, of for- ests, lakes, rivers, and mountains, of fields and meadows, of mines and cataracts, with its secrets and marvels of grandeur and beauty, all glowing and beaming as with the alluring legend, " Try once more what you can do with, what you can make of, human life ! " It was as wlien one turns from a melancholy stroll in a decayed town or ruined city, with its crumbling and mouldering structures, its sewers choked with foulness, and its festering graveyards whose inscribed stones only vary the tale of woe and vanity and falsehood, and mounts a breezy hill in our fairest re- gions of yet lonely space, and gazes upon the prosjjcct. Such was the boon and gift offered to humanity on the opening of this continent. Profoundly penetrating and solemn is the thought, that never again on this globe will this transcendent ])rivilege and proffer be repeated. Wo have f,ot the whole, in all its parts. Australia has discour- aged the hope which beamed at its first welcome. Though it is the largest island on the globe, — itself a continent, — having an area of nearly three million square miles, only the skirts of its coasts appear to be profitable for cultivation, while the surveys of its interior, so far as they have with difficulty been made, reveal enormous deserts of sand and rock. We note that the British men of science, at the annual meetings of their Association, offer their measure- ments of the yet remaining capacities of the mines of coal and iron and other metals, and forecast tlie date wlien Eng- land must yield the power and glory of being the workshop of the world. It requires no abstruse mathematics to deal with the facts of a larger and more august problem. What shall men, in the steady increase of our race, do when all ^% ;!l 14 INTRODUCTORY. I i ■1! the desirable stretches of the habitable earth, on continent and island, are occupied? We know liow festering diseases and a devitalized blood track the long abode of a crowd of men in one si)ot ; we know how the life-stock in our cities is renewed by new comers from rural homes. What resources will humanity have for its long future refreshment and puri- fication as it uses up, exhausts, and defiles its old scenes and seeks fresli fields and pastures new? The only meet answer we can give to that question is in the fidelity and economy with which we use man's last and largest continent. It is not admitted, liowcver, that men are less vigorous in an old country than in a new one. While we attribute to the length of their ages the decays of some Eastern people, Germany has not lost its power for producing men of noblest energy and talent, by any lapse of centuries. And it has even been affirmed that our race has physi- cally deteriorated since its transfer here. Notwithstanding the mystery which overhung the conti- nent on its discovery, it was from the first delighted in and gloried over as a land of infinite possibilities. The wealth and prosperity which have been wrought from it may not answer in kind or form to the fashionings of the exalted im- aginations of its hidden treasures, because there was a halo investing at first the vast unknown. It was at once found that everything here was on a magnificent scale of size and grandeur. What the Old World from which the ad- venturers came had only in miniature, in toy shapes, this continent presented in sublime magnitudes. Its rivers were bays, its ponds were seas, and its lakes were oceans. Where did the continent begin, and where did it end, and how was it to be opened ? The early comers listened to and repeated some legendary and monstrous stories of the sort of men Avhich were to be found deep in these forests. Columbus saw mermaids in the sea. Jacques Cartier, in Canada, had heard of men with the convenient accom- plishment of living without a particle of any kind of food ; GRANDEUR AND STRETCH OP TERRITORY. 15 wealth 1 ay not ;cd im- I a halo > found ; )f size ij he ad- I s, this 1 rivers J ceans. d, and icd to of the arests. ler, in iccom- food ; and Lafitau reported another sort of people whose heads,* if they really had any, were snugly buried between their shoulders, and others still who had but one leg. This grand and majestic scale on which the objects and features of the continent were proportioned, gives a tone of expanse and of unbounded, vaguely-defined locality in the designation of vast territories. Such terms as " the head-waters" of one or more rivers, or their valleys, or a " stretch " of plains, are used as if defining the range for a pleasant walk, while months of toil and risk would be requisite for coursing them. One of the charms Avhich will always invest the perusal of the journals of tlie old explorers, deep in the recesses of the continent, will be found in noting these large epithets of descrii)tion and locality, and in comparing them with the reduced terms, the definite and detailed bounds and limits, by which we find it necessary to refer to them. The Alleghanies and the Rocky Mountains represented once uniform and com- prehensive lines of elevation, longitudinally continuous and comj)actcd as barrier walls. They are distributed now into irregular ranges, distinguished by peaks and valleys, wliile skill and fancy are tasked to give them titles. The new comers, however, knowing well what they came for and wliat they were in search of, very soon set upon the prizes for which they were seeking. It is curious to mark how, from the very first, different aims and objects, respectively cliaracteristic of the Europeans of the three leading nationalities, were manifested and pursued here, and were followed down to our own times. The aim and greed of tlie Spaniard were for gold, silver, and pearls, the spoils of the heathen ; not at all for laborious occupancy of ' This learned writiT in his " Moeurs des Sanvages Americains," gives us an engravod figur" ^f ont' of these Accphalcs, as he calls them. The face and head, comfortably settled, as the breast, present quite a benignant expres- sion. The subject would be an impracticable one for the gibbet or guillotine. Planche, iii. 16 INTRODUCTORY. the soil. The Frenchman was content with the fur-trade, in pursuit of which he needed the aid of the Indian, wliom he was disposed therefore to treat with friendliness, and with whom he consorted on such equal terms as to be still represented, all over our nortli and west, by a race of half- breeds. The staple of the English stock, after some random ventures in Virginia, when they came to be represented by the Puritan element in Plymouth, Massachusetts, and Con- necticut, thougli they had fallen upon the least kindly and the most rugged soil of the continent, accepted the condition of hard work and frugal ways, earning their living by cod- fish and corn. And tliat may be the reason why — the Spaniards having vanished with the age of gold, and the French with the wasteful fur-trade — the English, though the last comers, are the hard workers and the opulent on this land. The red men will always have a tender, touching claim upon our sympathetic regrets in the fact that we succeed to their heritage. We fill the places from which they have vanished. The more enduring, the unchangeable features of the scenes of our life-time — the mountain, the valley, the river — are those which are forever identified with them. The changes and improvements wliich we have introduced are wholly ours, and would be simply indifferent or offensive to the wild forest rovers. However we may palliate or jus- tify, with reasons or from the stress of necessity, their re- moval from before us, we cannot forget that they were once here ; and that whatever was the sum or substance of the good of existence for them was found in the same aspects of Nature, under the same sun and moon and stars, on the same soil, as the same seasons passed over it, where we find our own. An ancient burial-ground, with its decaying memorials, does not lose the pathos of its suggestiveness for us in the reflection that the covered human dust is very ancient, and was of necessity deposited there. There are occasions and places when the regretful re- MEMORY OF VANISHED TRIBES. 17 membrances of a vanished race come upon us with a depth of sympathy so true tlrat we love to yield to it. When, under the fairer auspices of Nature, in our vacation or lioli- day moods, we visit spots in harmony with our ideals of the romance of savage life, we are easily beguiled into workings of remorse or pity for the wasted and extinct tribes who once roamed here before us. On the mountain slopes, with their deep, wild coverts, never yet disturbed by the woodman's axe, and whei*e wild creatures still linger in their haunts, we feel that a few of the native stock might still find a refuge. In the shaded valleys, coursed by bab- bling brooks or rushing rivulets, on the green and pebbly shores of tranquil lakes, into which push out the sedgy and wooded tongues of land, circled with creeping vines and the mild fragrance of the wild-flowers, — we should meet without surprise the dusky loiterers whose moccasoned feet might tread noiselessly before us. By the summer sea- side, on beach or cliff, where we pitch the canvas tent, in mimicry of the native wigwam, we may share in fancy the company of those to whom the scene on earth was the same three hundred years ago as it is to us to-day. Then, if ever, we are responsive to the feelings of compunction over the wrongs of the red men. We call them back as to their own outraged and stolen heritage. We reknit their un- tutored hearts to the scenes and objects which we feel they must have intensely enjoyed and loved, because they shared the human sensibilities which give to the sunlight and the breeze, to the lapping sea-wave and the aroma of the forest, their entrancing spell for us. The wealth of sen- timent in them, unrefined and untutored as it was, was of the endowment of their nature. It must all have gone in concentrated, appreciative strength, to spend itself within the narrow rai\gc of their emotional being. Among the more engaging subjects of interest and curiosity which within quite recent years have been discussed by our more philosophic students, and which we shall have to note fur- I I 18 INTRODUCTORY. I I tlier on, is tlic inquiry as to the range and degree of what we call mental development among savages generally, or in any particular portion of them favored by condition and op- portunity. On the whole it may be said that fuller obser- vation, closer intercourse, and a keener study of them have greatly qualified the first impressions and the first judge- ments of them as wholly imbruted, stolid, vacant in mind, inert, without food and exercise of thought. The very closeness of their relation to Nature, its aspects and pro- ducts, and the acutcness of their powers of observation, must have quickened them into simple philosophers. It is on record, and there it must remain, that to the first comers froui Europe, at every point of our mainland and islands, the natives extended a kindly and gentle welcome. They offered freely the hospitality of the woods. Yet more ; they looked on the whites with timid reverence and awe as superior beings, coming not so much from another region of this same earth as from some higher realm. It is to be confessed, moreover, that their visitors very soon broke the spell of their enchantment, and proved themselves human, with charms and potencies for working harm and woe. The white men cheaply parted with the marvel and glory with which the simple natives invested them, and be- came the objects of a dread which was simply horror. Re- lations of hostility and rancor were at once established, in a superlative degree, by the Spaniards, in their ruthless raids upon the natives, to whom they made the basest returns for an overflow of kindness, whom they tasked and transported as slaves, and on whom they visited all the contempt of their own superstition and all the ingenuities of torture. The expresses and the telegraphs of the children of the woods transmitted through the continent, as effectively as do our modern devices, the mingled impressions of bewilder- ment and rage, and opened the since unvaried and inten- sified distrust which the red man has of the white man. We are often, sometimes very solemnly, forewarned of '■'^■4. !-i^ THE INDIAN NEMESIS. 19 tlie judgment which later times and loftier standards of right than our own will pronounce upon our country for our treatment of the Indians. Occasionally, with prophetic burden, the stern seer into the future denounces a curse forever to rest upon this land, evoked by the silent, spectral forms of the vanished red men over whose hunting-grounds and graves in the hands of the spoiler no permanent bless- ing can ever be enjoyed. But, through any and all future time, — when, if it should be so, the red race has vanished, — two very different pleas in relief or vindication of the white man will be offered. We can anticipate those pleas, for they can be no other than are spoken earnestly and ur- gently in our own present time. One of them will urge, as it now urges, inevitable fate, irresistible destiny, as ap- pointing absolute extermination and extinction for a race of men cither incapable of, or wilfully hostile to, civilization. The other plea of defence will rest in firmly and eloquently insisting that the wisdom and conscience of the white man were thwarted, by circumstance or inherent obstacles, in all the humane and earnest and costly work which he at- tempted for the good of the red man. In the broad sweep of historic retrospect, that has indeed been a direful and tragic work as regards the red man and the white man which has been wrought on this continent ; sad and shocking it is, Avhether we contemplate it in the in- terests of a humane civilization, or in sympathy with the Indian. But with no intent to prejudice the whole issue, to plead for wrong, or to palliate iniquity, there are two stern facts of which we may remind ourselves. First: during the more than three centuries of struggle between Christian and heathen races on this continent, every wrong and outrage to humanity, all the woe and suffering involved in it, have been more than matched in the methods by which so-called Christians have dealt with each other in the Old World, by wars, massacres, persecutions, and all the en- ginery of passion and folly, and hate and vengeance. And, — "T* INTRODUCTORY. ! Bccond : if all the losses and inflictions — in pain, in actual visitations of every sort of distress and agony — could bo sunnncd up and 1 "'Might into comparison, it would bo found tiiat the cost of ^jtting possession of this continent has been and will yet be to the whites more exacting in toil and blood and in purchase-price than the defence of their heritage has been to the Indians. Sad and harrowing as has been the sanguinary conflict between a civilized and a barbarous race on this continent, how trivial has been tho Bum of its woes compared with those of contemporaneoua passions on the other side of the ocean, in religious, civil, and dynastic wars, — wars of succession, seven years' wars, thirty years' wars, wars of the Netherlands, of the Fronde, of the League, of the Peninsula, of the Napoleons, of the Holy Alliance, of every European nation, — all Christian! Yet if full vengeance settles the account of the wronged, vastly more in number of the whites than of the Indians, and by sterner and ghastlier methods of death, have fallen in the conflict. Nor has Christian civilization, in its re- straints upon the exercise of arbitrary and vengeful power by the strong against the weak, withstood, down to our own times, the grossest acts of oppression and outrage when na- tional or commercial aggrandizement or thrift was the ob- ject in view. When all the naval and military power and policy of Great IJritain have been engaged to thrust opium down the throats of tho Chinese at the point of the bayonet, and Sepoys have been blown from the mouth of cannon, we cannot deal with like enormities as stains upon merely the annals of the past. The relations between the red and the white men on this continent, from their very first contact to this present year, may be traced historically in two parallel lines, reproducing, repeating, and illustrating in a long series the same facts which characterize each of them. First, we have in a con- tinuous line a long series of avowed intentions, of sincere purposes, and of earnest, often heroic, designs, plans, and THE CONFLICT OP BENEFITS AND WRONGS. 21 actual uld bo ! found nt has in toil f their ring as and a ;cn the •ancous s, civil, a' wars, Prondc, , of tlie istian ! rouged, [ndians, •e fallen its rc- 1 power >ur own hen na- thc ob- kcr and opium tayonct, Icannon, merely on this kit year, |>ducing, le facts tx a con- sincere bis, and efforts to protect and benefit the savage ; to secure his rights, to advance liis welfare, to humanize, civilize, and Christianize liim. Second, we have, in another unbroken but always steady series, a course of oppressive and cruel acts, of hostile encounters, of outrages, wars, and treacher- ous dealings, which have driven the savage from his succes- sive refuges on plain or mountain fastness, in forests or on lake shores, till it would seem as if this unintermittcd har- assment nmst make certain his ultimate extinction. How tliis second course and series of oppressive, cruel, and exterminating measures got prevalence and sway, and has effectually triumphed over the really sincere purposes and f)rofessions, over the earnest and costly efforts made to protect and benefit the savage, it is the office of a faithful and candid historian to explain. Of course, it is of all things the most requisite that one should start on tliis inquiry in a spirit of perfect impar- tiality. Yet no one can pursue it far without yielding much or little to a bias tliat has prejudiced the inquiry for most who have engaged in it, and will be sure to present itself to all. Tliat bias is the accepting what is called the in- evitable, in the form of a theory about races, vvhicli assumes or argues the utter impossibility that two races of men can exist in harmony and prosperity together. It is enough to say that tliis theory is in no case to be assumed, but must be tested and verified on each occasion that suggests it. As to these two parallel lines of facts which illustrate the relations between the red and the white man here, it may be observed that there is in our libraries and j)ublic archives a most voluminous collection of books and documents in which they are followed out. We have unnumbered jour- nals and narratives, relations of individuals who, antici- pating or sharing in each successive advance of frontier life, have written for us Indian chronicles. We have tales of adventure, stories of captives, reports of heroic missiona- ries, records of benevolent societies, and Government docu- INTRODUCTORY. Ml li ^ meats, — indeed, a perfect mass of partial and impartial guides. It is but just that an adequate and empliatic statement should be made of tlic avowedly good intentions and pur- poses, and of the really earnest and costly schemes and ef- forts of the whiles for the benefit of the aborigines from the very first Intercourse between them. True, the insufficiency and failure of nearly all of these purposes and efforts, and the almost mocking futility of them when compared with the steady, grasping, and well-nigh exterminating progress of the whites over the continent, may seem to throw back upon these measures a character of insincerity and unre- ality. But it would be untrue, as well as unfair and un- charitable, so to judge. There were profound integrity, rectitude, and strong resolve in many of the professions of commiseration and intended right dealing towards the Indians. Benevolent and manly hearts have beat in tender sympathy for them. Benevolence, in its single rills and in the generous flow of its gathered contributions, has poured forth its kindly offices to them, and the sternly consecrated lives of patient and heroic men, roughened and perilled by all the dismal exigencies of the work, have been spent with the savages and for the savages, to secure for them the rights of humanity and the blessings of civilization and pure religion. We may regard as mere empty forms the conditions and commands, looking towards the interests of the natives, in- troduced into the patents or charters with which the colo- nists from Europe were empowered to take possession of the country. We may ridicule the commissions and instruc- tions given to governors and magistrates as to the treatment of the Indians, of which so little came in practice. Tlie la- bors of philanthropists, humanitarians, and missioiuiries in their single efforts, or in their associated benevolent organ- izations, drawing bminties from all Christendom to benefit the savages, may sink into insignificance when compared ISABELLA PLEADS FOR THE SAVAGES. 23 1 with the cunning, the greed, the violence, the ruthless and unpitying vengeance, and the steady havoc of war which have made the red men yield all but their last refuges, on an almost boundless continent, to the white man. But none the less arc there witnesses, memorials, and full confirma- tions of the fact that the Indian has had his friends and benefactors among the whites. Always, and with bright and gracious tributes for sincerity and gentle humanity, must the name of Isabella of Castile be reverently honored, because, while her own royal consort, her nobles, her people, and even many of her highest ecclesiastics, indifferent to the subject, — either from thoughtlessness over the first signs of a stupendous iniquity that was to follow, or from absorption in ])rospectivo ambitions or commercial inter- ests, — connived from the first in the enslavement, oppres- sion, and destruction of the natives of the New World, she was the first of women or of men to protest, as a Chris- tian, against any spoiling of the heathen. Xor was it from a mere feminine tenderness that she pleaded and wrote with such constraining earnestness that the children of Nature, as we shall soon read, described so engagiugly by Columbus, sliould be treated with all tlie more of Cliristian love and mercy because, not being Christians, this Avas the only way to nialvc them Christians. Of all European sovereigns, Isabella alone wrouglit from the dictation of the heart, and not with merely mocking formalities of ])rofession in l)olialf of the savages. To tlie close of her life, in deep afllictions and in bodily sufferings, and in dictating lior last wishes and commands, that saintly queen pleaded for gentle pity and for Christian equity and love in behalf of her subjects of a strange race. One of her ecclesiastics caught her spirit ; others of them gave their counsel for measures which thwarted her ])nr])oses. The President and Council of the Virginia Plantation in 1606 were instructed " to kindly treat the savages and heathen people in those parts, and use all proper ■m f^' i! ! 24 INTRODUCTORY. ! ,:.ii i .I'ii jiii means to draw them to the true service and knowledge of God." In the patent for Nova Scotia, in 1621, James I. speaks of the countries " either inliabited or occupied by unbe- lievers, whom to convert to the Christian faith is a duty of great importance to tlie glory of God." In the charter of Massachusetts Bay, 1628, the colo- nists arc Avarned to lead such good lives as " may win and invite the natives of the country to the knowledge and obedience of the only true God and Saviour of mankind, and the Christian faith, — which in our royal intention and the adventurers' free profession is the princii)al end of tliis Plantation." In full accord with this royal form of instruction the Governor (Cradock) of the Bay Company, in 1029, writes to Endicott, its first resident officer here : " We trust you will not be unmindful of the main end of our Plantation, by endeavoring to bring the Indians to the knowledge of the Gospel ; which, that it may be the speedier and better effected, the earnest desire of our whole Company is, that you have a diligent and watchful eye over our own people, that they live unblamable and without reproof, and demean themselves justly and courteous towards the Indians, there- by to draw them to affect our persons and consequently our religion, — as also to endeavor to get some of their children to train up to reading and consequently to religion, whilst they are young; herein to young or old to omit no good op- portunity that may tend to bring them out of that woful state and condition they now arc in, — in which case our pre- decessors in this our land sometimes Avere, and, but for tlie mercy and goodness of our God, might have continued to this day." Endicott was further instructed : " If any of the salvages pretend right of inheritance to all or any part of the lands granted in our i>atcnt, endeavor to purcliase their tytle, that we may avoid the least scruple of intrusion." In the charter given by Charles II., in 1081, to William COLLEGES DESIGNED FOR THE NATIVES. 25 Pcnn, we read of the " commendable desire to reduce the savage natives by gentle and just manners to the love of civil society and the Christian religion." It is observable, however, that in these and many other similar royal and public avowals and instructions as to the righful claims of the natives upon the colonists, but little is said about remunerating the Indians or purchasing from them any territorial rijj;hts. It wcs always com- placently assumed that the whites might quietly take pos- session. Whatever then Avas the intent or the degree of sincerity of these royal instructions, they all rested upon the assumption that the invaders might rightfully override, by a claim of superiority, the tenure of barbarians on the soil. It is noteworthy .also, that, from the very earliest settle- ment of the Englisli colonists, the intent and effort to benefit the natives took the ambitious form of providing for them schools and even colleges, in which they should enjoy the higliest advantages of education with the whites. While the issue was as yet uncertain, whether the English would maintain their hold as planters in Virginia, Sir Edwin Sandys, as treasurer of the Company, proposed, in 1G19, to found a college in the colony for English and Indian youth in common. lie received an anonymous gift of ,£500 for tlic education of Indian youth in English and in the Christian religion. Other gifts were added, and the prospect seemed promising and hopeful. By advice of the King and the Bishops £1,500 were collected in England. The Company ajipropriated for the purpose ten thousand acres of land at Henrico, near Richmond. But the mas- sacre of the whites by the Indians, in 1622, soon after a beginning had been made in the work, effectually an- nulled it. The first brick building on the grounds of Harvard bore the name of the Indian College. It was built by funds gathered in England. Its design was to furnish rooms 26 INTRODUCTORY. 1 i I I II for twenty Indian youth, who, on a level with the English, miglit jmrsuc a complete academic course, for which they should be prepared by a " Dame's school," and by " Master Corlet's Grammar School." The attempt was earnestly made and carried through its various stages, witli but slender and wholly unsatisfactory results. That work of marvellous toil and holy zeal, Eliot's Indian Bible, was printed in that consecrated college hall. The excellent Robert Boyle and the beloved and gentle Bishop Berkeley both bore labors and sacrifices in planning colleges for the Indians, — alike in vain. Dartmouth College took its start as " Moors' Charity School for Indians," for the education of their youth and of missionaries to them. The motto on the college seal is Vox clamantia in Beserto. A very remarkable list is still preserved of subscriptions made in its behalf from two hundred places in Great Britain, chiefly gathered by the preaching there of an ordained Christian minister, Sampson Occum, an Indian. President Whcclock gave his devoted labors to the school and college, and once had twcntv-one Indian bovs under instruction. But the mis- sionaries sent forth from the college were not welcome or successful, and the whites soon monopolized the advantages of the institution. In each of these enterprises some ma- lign agency came in to thwart all well-intended purposes. In view of all these royal covenants and solemn avowals made in the interest of tlie red men, and of all these asso- ciated and individual efforts through costly outlays and devoted sacrifice to serve and help and save them, no one can fairly affirm that the European colonists from the be- ginning until now have failed to recognize the ordinary claims of a common humanity which the aborigines had upon them. We certainly have to take note of the fact that the best feelings and purposes towards the Indians were cherished in anticipation of what would and ought to be the relations of the whites as Christians, when brought THE CHILDREN OP NATURE. 27 into intercourse with them. Closer acquaintanceship, inti- macy of intercourse, and indeed the results of the fi: st friendly and helpful efforts of the whites, soon raised and strengthened a feeling of discouragement, which was very ready to justify itself when alienation and open hostility embittered the relations of the races. The conviction that it was very difficult to convert and civilize an Indian received from most of those who listened to its avowal the rcsj)onso that the labor was by no means compensated by the result. In other words, the strong persuasion was that the Indian was not worth converting. This was so manifestly allowed in the case of reprobates among the whites, as to somid like an axiom when said of the red men. " Men without knowledge of God or use of reason," is the royal description given of the Indians by Francis, in his commission to Robcrval. The monarch does not appear to have been aware of the hopelessness of any effort to deal with those who in seeming only were men, while they lacked the endowment which distinguishes man from the brute. He might, however, have qualified his description of the In- dian by affirming that it was the use, not the possession or the capacity, of reason which was wanting. Had he known some of those whom he thus described ; had he been left to their guidance in the lakes and streams, the thickets and coverts of the wilderness, and noted their fertility of re- source, thoir ingenuity in emergencies, and the skill with which they interpreted Nature, — he Avould have found at least that they had compensating faculties as well adapted to the conditions of their life as are the trained intellectual exorcises of the masses of ordinary men. That monarch and his successors were well represented among the natives by those, whether priests or adventurers and traders, to wliom we owe the best knowledge of the aborigines, in the early years of intercourse. The lack of reason, or even of its use, was not the special defect of an Indian iu the view of a Frenchman. ..-^ 28 INTRODUCTORY. The fruitful subject of Christian missions to the Indians, both Roman Catholic and Protestant, will be treated by itself. But brief reference must be made to the long, and up to this day continuous, scries of efforts, beginning with the first European occupancy here, through incorporated and associated benevolent societies and fellowships ; through consecrated bc(picsts of funds ; through public and private appeals generously answered ; and through the heroic and self-sacrificing labors and sufferings of individuals who have shrunk from no extremities of pain and trial, — all given to civilize and Christianize the aborigines of this soil and their representatives. The advocates in our days of the peace policy with the Indians may trace their line of descent through an honorable roll of predecessors. There are funds sacredly kept, the income of which is now, year by year, dis- tributed by the terms of old charters and trusts, for the sec- ular and religious welfare of the Indians. Nor is it strictly true, as has often been said, that the Indians have no stand- ing in our courts. Though the standing which they have may be hardly distinguishable from that of wards, idiots, lunatics, and paupers, it has at least secured to them many individual and common rights, with penalties on such as wrong thom. There are regions now in some of our oldest States which were set apart for Indian ownership and resi- dence in Colonial and Provincial times, with trust funds for their maintenance, independent of those which have been established by the national Government. Representatives of the race are still found in those places. To what experi- ences and results these few remnants of the aborigines on these spots have been brought, must be noticed further on in these pages. In the minds of some among us, who most regret and condemn the general dealing of our people and Government with the Indians, there floats an ideal conception of what might have been, and what should have been, the relations between the two races from the first up to this day, — rela- THE INDIANS AND EUROPEANS AS FRIENDS. 29 tions which would have withstood a giant injustice, and forbade countless atrocities, massacres, and wars. This con- ception, in the interest of right and reason and humanity, suggests that the stock and lineage of the original red men, with those of the colonizing white men, miglit easily have begun an amicable and helpful coexistence on this conti- nent, and shared the heritage ; and that they might, accord- ing to circumstances or their own wills, have become amal- gamated, or kept themselves distinct. And the relations between the English residents and the natives in their East Indian dependencies are pointed to as affording some sort of a parallel. By that facile method by which we often shape conditions which, as wc assume, might have been and ouglit to have been realized, while we leave out of view the needful means for effecting them and the obstacles which interposed, we are apt to argue the case presented somewhat as follows : There was, and is, on this continent room enough for both races. The new comers were forlorn strangers, — guests. The aborigines were kindly hosts to these poor wayfarers. They might have lived peacefully together and prospered, the stronger party always keeping the grateful memory of early obligations. Left to their natural ways and develop- ment, the whites might have occupied the seaboard and the factory streams, gradually extending into the interior ; the red men might have hid within the forest recesses, to con- serve any of the good qualities of their race, without con- tamination, and gradually with the adoption of imi)roving influences from the whites. Then all would have been fair to-day between the races. We might liave had some splendid and noble specimens of the red men in our Con- gress, — an improvement on some who are there now. Tims would have been realized the hope and prayer of the good old Canonicus, tlio first and fast friend of the Pilgrims at Plymouth, "That the English and my posterity shall live in love and peace together." 80 INTRODUCTORY. Those who have most fondly painted this ideal of what miglit have been the relations between the two races on this continent, will even suggest what they regard as apjiroxima- tions to it in the peaceful connections, with results of a com- mon prosperity, which have existed between colonists here from over the whole globe, with all languages and religions, with unlike habits and modes of life. It may be said that it is not yet too late to put this deferred experiment to a trial. Some proximate attempts have indeed been made to realize it, and ai'c still in progress, — as, for instance, in reserved localities in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Maine, and New Yorli, where representa- tives of Indian tribes have remained in peaceful relations with the whites by covenants, as has been stated, formed far back in our Colonial and Provincial epochs. But to have made these fragmentary and special provisions a rule for general application over our whole domain, would have called for an exercise of wisdom and Inimanity such as has asserted itself only since harsher methods had long been in practice, and penitential compunctions for them have pro- voked reproaches for the past. Even as the ca^-e stands now, while the humane sentiment of the age backed by the avowed purposes of the Government, — and something bet- ter than a mere feint of sincerity in effecting them, — are engaged to substitute peaceful and helpful measures in all our relations with what remains of the aboriginal stock, we arc made to realize the difficulty of the process. It is enough to say that the Indians have lost, if indeed they ever had, the po^\or of standing as an equal party with the whites in such an amicable arrangement, and must now accept such terms as may be dictated to them. Historical students and readers of generations now on the stage, as they turn over the early New England annals, will find their interest engaged by the antique seals, with quaint devices, which were adopted for the formal attestar tion of their records by the colonists of Plymouth and Mas- EUnOPEANS AS HELPERS OF THE INDIANS. 31 sachusctts Bay. The seal of Plymouth Colony, with the date 1(520, presents on the quartcrinf^s of the shield four naked Indians, bowed on one knee, with forest trees around them. The seal is without a lei^cnd, but the savages each hold up what seems to be a blazinj? or a flaming heart, in petition or offering. We are without contemporary information as to the origin of this seal, the date of its adoption, or the in- tent of its device. But the noteworthy point for us is, that the seal, whatever it was meant to signify, was the inven- tion of the white man, not in any sense an expression of the desire of the savages, or a solicitation from them for the white man's coming here. Even more to the point are the device and legend on the seal of the Bay Colony. Tliat was prepared and adopted in England, and sent over here, in silver, in 1G29, with the first settlers. It represents a stalwart, muscular savage, naked, save as a few forest loaves shade him, standing among his pine-trees, an arrow in his right hand, a bow in the left, and on a scroll is inscribed, as coming from his lips, the Mace- donian cry to the Apostles, — ^" Come over and help us ! " It was an ingenious device of our fathers thus to represent the natives of the soil, in their forlorn state of bodily and spirit- ual nakedness and heathenism, plaintively appealing to the white man to come to their deliverance. The specimen In- dian on the seal, well fed and muscular, does not look as if he needed any help, except in the matter of apparel ; in that, indeed, his need is urgent. So it is pleasant to read that the first Indian whom the Plymouth Pilgrims met, — Samo- sct, — being in the costume of Nature, received from them the following articles of clothing, so far as they would go towards making up a respectable wardrobe : " A hat, a pair of stockings and shoes, a shirt, and a piece of cloth to tie about his waist." If any of the native stock here in later years, when their race was all wasting away from our coast, had the skill to interpret the devices on the colony seals, they must have 32 INTRODUCTORY. Il< thought that the white man's "help" had been but sorrow for them. The Dutch colonists of New York were more frank, at least, in avowing the main object of their coming, for they chose a beaver for their shield seal. The deliberate judgment of that observing and thoughtful missionary Lafitau is sunniicd up in tliesc words : " The Indians have lost more by imitating our vices than they have gained by availing themselves of those arts which might have added to the comforts and conveniences of life." Yet among the many radical differences of judgment which have found expression by intelligent and competent observers, and which cover most of the matters of fact, with com- ments upon them, in the whole survey of the relations be- tween the whites and the Indians on this continent, we are to recognize this, namely, — the avowal of the opinion that the intrusion and agency of the whites have, on the whole, accrued to the benefit, the relief, the improvement of the native stock. It has been stoutly anirmed that no addi- tional havoc or horrors have attended the warfare of ci\-il- izod men against the savages, beyond those which, with their rude weapons, their fiendish passions, and their ingenuities of torture, they had been for ages inflicting on each other. And it has been boldly argued, that, though civilization mastered the Indians rough-shod, it has dropped on its way reliefs, imj)lements, favors, and influences which have mollified and reduced barbarism, and added resources to- wards lifting them from a mode of life hardly above that of brutes. • It is within the life-period of the present generation that the whole development of the relations between the whites and the Indians — protracted through the preceding cen- turies — has been rapidly matured towards what is in imme- diate prospect as some decisive and final disposal of the issue. During those previous centuries, steady as has been the process of the displacement of the Indians, it was pur- sued under the supposed palliating condition that their re- THE PRESSURE UPON THE INDIANS. 33 moval, by bcinf; crowded on to more remote refuges, was provided for by an undcCmed extent and wealth of western territory of like features to the rej^ions froni which they were driven; and that in those unpeuetrated depths of tho continent they niinht for indefinite periods pursue their wonted habits of barbarous life, subsist! njr by the chase. So long as this resource was left, the full problem of tho fate of the Indian did not press as now for inuncdiatc solution. While the superb valleys of the a(T]n(^iits of the Missouri, the Platte, the Red River, the Mackenzie, the Col- umbia, the Colorado, and the Sacramento were still untrav- erscd wildernesses, it seemed as if tribes which never made any fixed improvements of the soil essential to and consequent upon their tenure of it, might even prove gain- ers by moving on and taking their chances witli previous reamers over spaces large enough for them all. Circum- stances have hurried on the active working of new agencies with a rush of enterprises to what must be a forced, or a deliberately chosen and wise, conclusion. As soon as the continent was opened on the Pacific ocean, witli a more vigorous ardor than the languid dalliance of the Spanish navigators, there began an era which was as foreboding to the savages as it was quickening to the whites. Other agen- cies, all vitalized with the spirit of modern zeal and schem- ing, directed by scientific as well as by adventurous aims, and kindled by a revival of the same passion for the pre- cious metals as that which blazed in the first discovery of the continent, accomplished in a score of years changes such as had been wrought before in no whole century. The dis- covery of rich mines and the search for more, the piercing advance of railways and telegraphs Avhicli came to meet each other in the centre of the continent, the occupancy of extensive ranches, the steady sweep onwards of emigrant trains turning the Indian trails into great highways, and the subtile instruments of Government engineers and ex- plorers, — all combined to convert what had been known as 3 ^ I: 84 INTRODUCTORY. I n the Great American Desert into regions as accurately sur- veyed and as adetiuately delineated on maps as are the feat- ures of land and water and geological formation of one of the old States. The single fact that within the last decade of years more than a million of buffaloes have been annu- ally slaughtered for their hides, the carcasses being loft to the wolves, has been a significant token that the extinction of the game would come to be a constraining condition of the fate of the red man. Meanwhile, alike on the northern and on the southern borders of our national domain, the pressure of the same quickening and goading enterprises has contemporaneously aided to encircle the former limit- less range of the savages till they are, as it were, coralled in the centre of a circumscribed white occupancy. The break- ing of the monopoly of the Hudson Bay Company, which from its first charter not only discountenanced colonization, but jealously forbade even the exploration of the depths of the wilderness in order that they might be reserved for the traffic in fur-bearing animals, has given place to an eager rivalry in British enterprise in settling and improving its territory, aided by largesses for opening its own transcon- tinental railway. Simultaneously our own Indian Territory on the south — so solemnly covenanted to the exclusive occupancy of the five so-called civilized tribes, as well as to remnants of others under treaty — is threatened with a gridiron system of railways. The demands of civilized intercourse and of commer^' made inexorable. Nor dr loosely bounded spaces and passenger traflic are indrcd and twenty-nine jn the latest maps as Res- ervations answer to xtles. They are but mocking securities against steaoj encroachments by individuals or companies of such as covet them ; and when the clash be- tween the greed of the white man and the covenanted rights of the Indian ripens into an open feud and expands into an armed collision, the Government is ever ready for any breach of its faith which may be accounted to the issue of THE PRESENT "INDIAN QUESTION." 86 civilization against barbarism. The Indian tribes in wliat wc call our national domain are now in the centre of a cir- cle which is contracting its circumference all around them. Having passed through their successive relations of hosts, enemies, pensioners, and subjects of the white men, they are now the wards of the nation. The feeding, clothing, and the attempted process of civilizing them by fixed resi- dence and labor, costly as the outlay is, is admitted on all sides to be less than the expense of fighting them. In this general survey of the chief subjects which will come before us for fuller observation as we open them for relation or discussion in dealing with our large theme, we have glanced at topics several of which might well, for their interest and im[)ortance, form the matter of many separate volumes, — as indeed they have done. Just at this time, under the title of the " Indian Question," our statesmen and philanthroi)ists, our military men and our practical economists, have presented to them a subject of engrossing interest ; and there is a strong pressure for a resolute and decisive dealing with it. The history of the past is reverted to only for its rebukes and warnings. What is in general terms impersonated as the conscience of the nation, — as if asserting itself for the first time in its full and emphatic authority, or lifting itself free of all the embarrassments of expediency and policy, — insists that time and opportunity favor the application of absolute justice, with reparation so far as is possible for the past, and wise and kindly protec- tive benevolence at whatever cost for the future, in the relations between our Government and the remnant of the aborigines on our domain. But it is always difficult, if not impossible, to disengage an ancient grievance from its en- tail of follies, errors, and wrongs in the past, and to deal with it as if free of prejudiced and embarrassed conditions. In dealing with the present Indian question, it comes to us perplexed and obstructed not only by previous mistakes, but also by existing and impracticable covenants. New V 36 INTRODUCTORY. V, > elements of complication are constantly presenting them- selves to perplex the original problem as to what were to bo the relations between a barbarous and a civilized people, — the former being in a supposed rightful possession of terri- tory, wliile the latter, conscious of the power to secure and hold it, have found warrant for its exercise in arguments of natural reason or in interpreting the divine purposes. The substance and shape of the original problem ''ave also been modified by physical and natural agenciL^, by the trial of experiments and the development of the resources of the country. A tribe of Indians seemingly contented with a treaty stipulation assigning to them a vast expanse of ter- ritory, supposed to be adequate to tlicir subsistence in their own mode of life, find their hunting grounds encompassed by the encroachments of the whites on their borders, llio game becoming scarce and threatening soon to disappear, while the old forest weapons lose their skill. So the In- dians ask for the arms and ammunition of the white men, and for supi)lics of life wliich did not form conditions of the compact with them. Tiiey become restless on their reservations, e^en if not interfered willi there. In the mean time enterprising white cxjjlorers come to the knowl- edge of the wealth in the streams and bowels of some of those reservations, and on the plea that these vast treasures were not known to exist when the mere wild land was covenanted to a tribe, and that they were not in the bar- gain, and more than all that they arc useless to the In- dians, the treaty is trifled with ; and tlic Government, which is not as strong as the people, is forced to be a party to a breach of faith. While, therefore, statesmanship and philanthropy are in our time forced to face the present Indian question as one for immediate disposal on urgent demands of wisdom and duty, of policy and of right, it is not strange that there should be a divergency of judgment, often manifested in clamor and discord and passion, as to the method and FORECASTING THE PATE OP THE ABORIGINES. 87 hi r (1 course of action wliich will be practicable, effectual, and satisfactory. As, in dealing with realities and w'th human nature as it \s, we have to recognize the facts which maltc up the whole of the conditions of any given problem to be dis- posed of, we have again to note, as directly and sharply bear- ing upon the present urgency of the Indian question, the fact already referred to, and to be in the sequel more delib- erately considered, that there is another element besides statesmanship and philanthropy, which manifests itself not always in the discussion of, but in pronounced opinion and in strong feeling concerning, this question. Of course it would be impossible to estimate the immbcr or proportion of the people of our country who hold the opinion and who clierisli the feeling now in view ; but we know that tliere are very many among us, and that thoy are very sturdy and unflinching in their conviction, who hold that the iron sway of mastery, the complete domination over the Indians, even if their absolute extermination follows, is the only solution of the problem. Wliilc such a stern and relentless conviction as this underlies, it may be, the opinions of some members of Congress, of many of our leading military oRicera, and of agents and superintendents of Indian affairs, as well as of reckless and unprincipled frontiersmen and miners, it is easy to infer to what extent statesmanship and philanthropy will find their schemes baffled. Tliere can be no doubt that this desperate fore- casting of the destiny of our aboriginal tribes has, latently or in avowal, swayed the minds of a vast number in each generation here, and has by no means been confined to those violent, merciless figliters and desperadoes who have done their utmost to carry out the presumed decree of fate. The Spanish invaders, as we shall see, assumed to be the agents of that destiny ; but none tlie less did Puritan ministers of New England find prophecy and divine aid in alliance with their own firelocks and swords in helping it on to fulfilment. So far as under the pressure of 88 INTRODUCTORY. the Indian question to-day, the ultimate extinction of the Indian is with misgivings, regrets, or full and acquiescent persuasion, held to be its only solution, while the belief may embarrass and obstruct the wisest and most humane schemes, it can be forced into "ilence or falsified only when a protective, a benevolent, and a steadily effectual policy for tlie humane and rightful dealing with the Indians, in prolonged generations on this continent, is demonstrating its success. We are now prepared to rehearse, in its graphic and signally significant details, the occasion, the scene, the actors, and the consequences marking the first introduction of themselves by men of the Old World to the wondering natives of this unveiled continent. CHAPTER I. SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. A LIVELY, indeed a dramatic, interest attaches to the occasion and the incidents which first brouglit together for recognition, for sight and intercourse, representatives of the human family that liad been parted by oceans for un- known centuries. Neither of these branches of a common stock had knowledge of the other. There was to be a first meeting, as of strangers. In view of all the dismal and harrowing results which were to follow, burdening with triigedies of woe and cruelty the relations between the white man and the red man, especially those of the Span- iards and the natives of the American islands, one might be tempted to wish that the ocean had been impassable. The more grateful, therefore, is it to recall the fact, that the very first contact and recognition between those of the Old World and the New, when the time had come that they were no longer to be deferred, [)rcsent to us a sweet and lovely picture. Would that its charm and repose of simple [)eaccfulness might have been the long perspective of the then following ages ! The great-hearted Admiral had kept his high resolve and hope through all the weary delays of his course over unknown seas, with panic-stricken and mutinous sailors. They might reckon over what part of the expanse of waters they had passed in their poor vessels, but knew not how much remained. But signs of land had appeared in sea- i I 40 SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. weed, drift-wood, and birds, and a stick carved by tool. On the night of Thursday, Oct. 11, 1492, Cohimbus, stand- ing, near midnight, on the poop of his vessel, saw a mov- ing light, which afterwards proved, as he surmised, to be a torch, carried from one hut to another, on the island which he named San Salvador. On the next morning, clad in complete armor, with the banner of Spain, liis cap- tains around him, bearing the royal insignia of Ferdinand and Isabella, he landed on a spot which he says was fresh and fruitful like a garden full of trees. The natives in simple amazement looked on, as they lined the shores and saw their mysterious visitors kneel with devout tears on the earth. And here is Columbus's report of his first impression from those whom he looked upon then as simply materials for making Christians : — " Because they had much friendship for us, and because I knew they were people that would deliver themselves better to the Chris- tian faith, and bo converted more through love than by force, I gave to some of them some colored caps, and some strings of glass beads for their necks, and many other things of little value, with which they were delighted, and were so entirely ours that it was a marvel to see. The same afterwards came swimming to the ships' boats where we were, anil brought us parrots, cotton threads in balls, darts, and many other things which Ave gave tliem, such as bells and small glass beads. In line, they took and gave all of whatever they had with good-will. But it appeared to rae they were a people very poor in everything. They went totally naked. They were well made, with very good faces, hair like horse-hair, their color yellow, and they painted themselves ; without arms, save darts pointed with a fish's tooth. They ought to make faith- ful servants and of good understanding, for I sec that very quickly they repeat all that is said to them ; and I believe they would easily be converted to ChrivStianity, for it appeared to me that thoy had no creed." • t m 1 Nnvarrcte, Col. vol. i. p. 21, as quoted by Arthur Holps, in "The Con- querors of the New World and their Bondsmen," vol. i. p. 105. THE GREETING OP THE STRANGERS. 41 Assisted very kindly afterwards by one of the native chiefs, when one of his caravels had shoaled, he writes to their Majesties of the Indians : — " They are a loving, uncovetous people, so docile in all things that I assure your Highnesses I believe in all the world there is not a better people or a better country. They love their neighbors as themselves, and they have the sweetest and the gentlest way of talking in the world, and always with a smile." ^ When the Protestant French colony, under Ribault, in 1562, entered the St. John River in Florida, they were imjjrcssed in a similarly enthusiastic way with the grace, 8inij)licity, and natural charms of the kindly savages w)h> received them with full confidence and courtesy. Their journalist portrays the natives as in stature, sh:,'C, features, and manners maidy, dignified, and agreeable. The women, well favored and modest, permitted no one " dishonestly to approach too near them ;" and "both men and women were 80 beautifully painted that the best painter of Europe could not amende it." The Spaniards and the French very soon found, and had long and sharp experience of the fact, that even these na- tives of the Southern isles and peninsula, wlio seem to have been of a more gentle and tractable spirit than those of the North, had in them latent passions which, when stung by opi)rcssic)n and outrage, could assert their fury. It is pleasant to note with em[»hasis the fact, that, in the conduct and course of his first vovage, Columbus havinsr been ever anxious to secure that result, his intercourse with the natives was wholly peaceful. By his resolute discipline over a comparatively small number of men, by his regard for their safety, and his desire to reciprocate the gentle courtesy he had received from the children of Nature, who looked upon him and his followers as having veritably como ' Navamite, Col. vol. i. p. 21, as quoted by Arthur Helps, in "The Con- querors of the New World and their Bondsmen," vol. i. p. 105. V 42 SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. among them from the skies, he succeeded in repressing every insult and wrong, and for a time deferred violence and the shedding of blood. The first impression which the Spaniards received of the inhabitants of those islands ear- liest visited was, that their docility and feminine qualities wholly disabled thcni even of resentment, and would make all aggression on their part an impossibility. This impres- sion continued, and was for a time strengthened on the second voyage, opening other islands, — witli an exception, however, soon to be stated. Those fair and luxuriant re- gions, free of wild beasts, spontaneously yielding the supplies of life to the indolent and happy natives, suggested the image of Paradise to the care-worn and passionate rovers from the Old World. It was natural that the un-orthodox fancy should present itself, even to the minds of ecclesias- tics, that these favored beings, though in human form, might possibly not be of the lineage of Adam, nor sharers in the primeval curse, as they seemed so innocent and guileless, and needed not to win their bread by the sweat of their brow. When the prow of Columbus was headed for his return to Spain, as he stopped on his way at the eastern end of Ilispaniola, a party of the natives, whom he describes as armed and ferocious in aspect and treacherous in their manifestations, presented themseUcs on the shore and pro- voked hostilities. Here the first acts of violence occurred, and the first blood was shed on both sides. But Columbus, so far as he could understand the communications made to him in answer to his questions as to the regions where gold abounded, received information of other neighboring isl- ands, — afterwards known as the Caribbean, or Antilles, — where tlie natives were predatory, piratical, and warlike, invading their neighbors for slaughter and captives, and addicted to cannibalism. Of these more brave and savage natives he was afterwards to have dire experience. We may tlierefore rest with the grateful conclusion, that the first intercourse between the representatives of the two THE ILLUSION OP COLUMBUS. 48 races began and ended in amity. Nor does it appear that those nine natives whom Columbus transported were taken against tlieir will, or were treacherously kidnapped, as, more than a century later, were Indians on the New Eng- land coast by British freebooters. Before Columbus sailed on his return, one of his vessels having been shipwrecked on the western end of Hispaniola, the cacique of the natives of that district, Guacanagari, had sliown him sympathy and kindness, offering him all friendly help. The spot was so lovely, and life seemed so attractive there, that the Admiral yielded to the wishes of many of his men that he would leave them as a colony on the shore, to pursue the objects of the discoverers. Ob- taining the consent and the promise of supplies from the cacicjue, Columbus, using portions of the wreck for the purpose, constructed a fort, and with explicit and dis- creet commands for caution, good discipline, and peaceful courses, he left in it thirty-nine men. The subsequent woes of the Admiral, and the opening of hostile rela- tions with the natives, are to be traced to this ill-omened experiment. The site of the colony was called Navidad, the Admiral having landed tliere on Christmas day. lie returned to Spain witli undiminished confidence in his visions of pre- cious wealth from the New World. His illusion that he was on the confines of India was confirmed in the chance similarity of sounds which fell upon his cars in the names of places. When the natives, pointing in the direction whence gold came, used the word " Cubanacan " (" the centre of Cuba"), it signified to the Admiral the Grand Khan. The island which they called " Cibao," and which really proved the richest in treasure, was this longed-for Cipango. When Columbus made his second visit to the Islands, it was with a company of fifteen hundred men, of every class and condition of life, clerical, noble, professional, and menial. 44 SPANISH DISCO VEUEKS AND INVADERS. 1 If] There was a fleet of seventeen vessels, laden with all that was needed for use and luxury and defence for a prosperous colony, with all sorts of seeds and plants, with domestic animals and poultry, and, above all, with mules and horses, the marvel and terror of the natives, realizing to them the fable of the Centaur. Before visiting the colony which he had left at the fort, Columbus touched at Santa Cruz, one of the Antilles. Here he had a skirmish, blood being shed on both sides, with some of those Caribs, of whom he had heard such warning be- cause of their courage, ferocity, and predatory rovings. More terrible yet was their repute as cannibals. That beautiful island realm, which has borne successively the names of Ilispaniola, St. Domingo, and Hayti, was to be the scene where disasterjSorrow,outrage, carnage, and every form and degree of oppression, cruelty, treachery, and atro- city were to introduce the tragic and revolting history, lengthened and crimsoned in the years to follow, of the re- lations between the Spaniards and the natives. The island in all that splendid archipelago, second in size only to Cuba, and richer and fairer than any other in the group, was esti- mated at its discovery, perhaps with some exaggeration, to have on its thirty thousand square miles a population of a million souls. Las Casas says the population had been 1,200,000. Though, as afterwards appeared, there had been feuds between the wilder mountain tribes and the more peaceful dwellers by the shores and in the valleys, all the chroniclers describe the natives as gentle and kindly, living an indolent, tranquil life, without care or labor, and present- ing an image of Arcadian simplicity. The invaders after- wards learned that the island was divided into five districts, under the same number of caciques. As has been said, the cacique or chieftain of the tribe in whose bounds the little colony with its citadel had been planted, had shown himself chivalrously courteous and friendly to the wrecked adventurers, and promised Colum- THE FIRST AGGRESSION. 45 bus a loyal fidelity. Wlicn the Admiral anxiously but liopefuUy approached the spot, it was to confront a bitter disappointment. The disaster which he liad to contemplate was shrouded in a mystery which was never wholly cleared. Desolation and silence rested on the scene. Havoc and de- sertion everywhere showed their evidences, without reveal- ing the cause, the occasion, or the agents. Not a Spaniard survived on the spot, or ever was found to tell the story ; and the Admiral was left to surmise an explanation, with such unsatisfactory help as he afterwards had from the natives. The inferences fully certified were, that the colonists, mostly of low character, had become restless, insubordinate, and lawless, had fallen into neglect of all prudence, and broken into discord. They had scattered themselves among the natives, opju'cssing them, and indulging in the grossest licentiousness, thus provoking a revenge which had fatally accomplished its work. With a heavy heart the Admiral faced the calamity. lie soon selected a more healthful site for a town, which he called Isabella, to be occupied by the edifices and tilled fields of one thousand colonists, whoso main and consuming jjassion was the search for gold. Co- lumbus sent back to Spain twelve of the vessels, retaining the other five. In these return vessels were men, women, and children captured on the Caribbean islands. It may have been under the jjrompting of a humane jjurpose, how- ever darkened in its view of justice or expediency, that the Admiral, while sending over more than five hundred cap- tives, in a letter to their Majesties proposed for the future to transport to Spain an indefinite number of natives to be sold as slaves, — the blessing accruing to them of being instructed in Christianity and rescued from j)crdition, while the proceeds of their sale would relieve the enormous ex- pense of the enterprise to the royal treasury, and procure live-stock and other supplies for the colony. It is to be observed that the first company of natives transported for sale as slaves were thought to be not un- 46 SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. fairly consigned to that fate on the ground that they were cannibals. It was preposterous to suppose that, having once been sold, they would be returned here as baptized Christians, for the purpose of aiding in the conversion of other Caribs. But afterwards large gangs of caj)tives were committed to the same fate simply as " prisoners of war." Considerable debate was raised in the Spanish Council as to the rightfulness of this disposition of such a class of captives. But the final decision allowed it. It was on this fair island that the dreams and illusions which had so sweetly kindled and wrapped the imagina- tions of both races alike, were broken and gave place to ghastly realities. The savages ceased to regard their visi- tors as having swept down upon them from a pure heaven, and if their theology had taken in the alternate realm of destiny, would have traced them as fiends to the pit of all horrors. The Spaniards on their part came to a better knowledge of the Indian character in its spirit and capaci- ties of passion. They found the natives cunning, ingenious in stratagem, and capable of duplicity and guile; bold and venturesome and courageous too in the arts of war, with javelins, sharpened spears, bows and arrows, and bucklers. They found also that the savages had a profound and by no means a puerile and inoperative religion of their own, far better in its impulses and practice than that of the reckless and dissolute marauders. Sickness, want reaching to near starvation, utter unwillingness to labor even for food, discontent, a rebellious spirit, bittei' disappointment of hope, and the grossest indulgence of all foul passions, — all culminated in their effects at Isabella. When Columbus returned there from a cruise to Cuba, he found a state of open warfare between his colonists and many of the native chiefs, who, goaded to desperation, had conspired to exter- minate the intruders. Columbus himself in March, 1495, took the field with his little army of infantry and cav- alry, and twenty of the fiercest blood-hounds, against a NATIVE ALLIES OF INVADERS. 47 body of the natives, perhaps over-estimated at a hundred tliousand. Here for the first time, as an example to be followed all along the course of the hostilities between the Europeans of every nationality and the natives, we find the white men artfully origag" ig the help as allies of one tribe of savages against other hostile tribes, — a dismal aggravation of all the iniquities and atrocities of a wild warfare. In the subsccpient swoops of Spanish marauders and invaders in South America and in Mexico, it is safe to aflirm that there were instances in which tlie victory was won for them by their savage allies, numbering hundreds to each one of the foreign soldiery, without whose aid, with the consequent discord and despair which it caused to the wild foe, the Spaniards would have been var.quished or starved. Co- lumbus availed himself of the former friendship of the cacique Guacanagari, to engage his tribe against the con- spiring chieftains ; and, by thus fomenting animosities among the enemy, won his triumph. The horse had been a most terrific spectacle to the natives ; but the blood- hound, who sprang with his unrelaxing fangs to the neck of his victim, and then disembowelled him, proved to be a deadlier instrumentality. The wild hordes quailed before their tormentors ; and after they had yielded in the palsy of an abject despair, they were allowed to make their peace only by submitting to a severe quarterly tribute to be paid to the Spanish crown. In this opening act of an ever deep- ening and lengthening tragedy, appeared the first in the line of successive nobles and patriots, of wise and great men, who have asserted themselves at intervals as organ- izers and heroes for the people of the woods, to resist the outrages of the white man. Caonabo was the lofty-souled patriot of Ilispaniola. A captive with unsubdued and scornful spirit, he died on his voyage to Spain. In a voyage made by Alonzo de Ojcda from Seville, in 1499, — in which he was accompanied by the Florentine ^ 48 SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. * merchant and navigator, Amerigo Vespucci, who by strange fortune lias attached his name to the continent, — tlie expe- dition liad a bh)ody encounter with the Caribs, taliing many of them captives for the slave marts of Seville and Cadiz. Nicholas de Ovando, who was in command at Ilispaniola while Columbus was in Spain, by his insubordinate, cruel, and oppressive course, ballled all the more humane purposes of the Admiral for any mild subjugation and rule of the natives. His savage cruelty and his desperate tyranny in working the mines and fields by the hard task-works of the Indians, whose slight constitutions unfitted them for any kind of toil, visited upon them a sum of horrors and of tor- tures. The apostolic Ijas Casas, himself a witness of these enormities and agonies, has described them in terms and images too revolting to be traced in their details. lie says, " I saw them with my bodily, mortal eyes." Fam- ine, despair, and madness drove multitudes to self-destruc- tion, and mothers sufl'ocatcd the infants at their breasts. Ovando closed the succession of his atrocities by a gene- ral massacre of natives and their chiefs, committed under the very basest arts of dujjlicity and treachery, while the unsuspecting victims were straining their confiding hospi- tality, with presents, wild games, dances, and songs, for his delight. The scene of the outrage was that exquisite re- gion, well-nigh a poetic and fairy realm, on the western coast and promontory of the island, then called Xaragua. Anacaona, the sister of its cacique, is described as a most lovely, intelligent, and kindly woman. She was the wife of that noble chieftain Caonabo, whose death as a captive on the way to Spain has just been mentioned. Pardoning the previous hostility of the Spaniards, who had made her a widow, she had manifested to the intruders on her do- mains the utmost forbearance and kindness. A pretence to justify the massacre was found in a secret report that she and her subjects were meditating that of the Spaniards. She herself was taken in chains to St. Domingo, and there THR HAMMOCK AND THE IIUURICANE. 49 hanged. Ovaiido founded a town near the scene of the massacre, to which he hUisphcniously f;ave the name of St. Mary of the true Peace !' The five native chief vins of the districts of Ilispaniola had now perished, and the ishind was desolate. Twelve years after his great discovery Columbus wrote to the Spanish monarchs : — "The Indiiins of Hispaniola were and arc the riclies of the island ; for it is they who cidtivato and raako the bread and the provisions for tiu^ Ciiristians, who d\n tlio <,'old from tliu mines, and porform all the offices and labors both of men and beasts. I am informed that six parts out of seven of the natives are dead, all tlirou,i,'h ill-treatment and inhumanity, — some by tlie sword, others by blows and cruel usage, others through hunger." " To supply the actual needs of labor, after the devasta- tion and depo|)ulation of the island, negro slaves were sent to Ilispaniola in 1505. Then, too, began another series of outrages in the forcible abduction and transfer, under the grossest deception, of natives of the Lucayan Islands. In five years forty thousand of these were kidnapped and trans- ported to Ilispaniola. Two words, of widely contrasted significations and asso- ciations, have been adopted into our English speecli from the language of the natives of that once happy island, — hammocky or hamao, designating the couch of listless repose, and hurricane, the sound of which aptly expresses the whirl- ing tornado of tempests and waves, and well offsets, in its symbol of Spanish havoc, the bed of peace and case. Historians, by their use of the term, have consented to receive from the first Spanish knights-errant and marauders in the New World the respectable and colorless word Con- quest to define the method of their mastery of territory • " La villa de la vera Paz." A modern writer, Captain Southey (" His- tory of the West Indies," vol. i. p. 93), suggests, as a more appropriate name, Aceldama. The armorial shield of the town bears a dove with the olive branch, a rainbow, and a cross. • Irving's Columbus, ii. 450. 1 60 SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. here. Stately volumes in our libraries bear the titles of Histories of the Conquest of Mexico, of Peru, etc. ; and tlieir versions in other languages repeat the title. The de- scendants of the French and English colonists on this soil may congratulate themselves that that word is appropriated exclusively to the Spanish freebooters. For, by whatever method other nationalities obtained and hold territory here, it was not first accpiired by the intent of conquest, nor by that way alone. The word conquest, by the Spaniartls, is a very tame one to apply to the method of their rapacity and fiendish inhumanity, as they disembarked on these virgin realms, and bore down upon its harmless native tribes as with the sweep of a vengeful malice and rage. Some other word of our capable language than con(piest would more fitly define the riot and wreck, the greed and the diabolical cruelty, of those first invaders. And that more fitting word would need to be one of the most harrow- ing and appalling in its burden of outrages and woes. The campaigns of Cyrus, of Alexander, cf Pompey, of Julius Cajsar, of Titus and Vespasian, might shrink from being classed with the Spanish conquest of America ; and we should have to turn to the ferocities of Tamerlane, of Ghengis Khan, of the princes of India and Tartary, and of the brute men of Africa, for points of parallel with it. We must remember the training of centuries, through which not only the nobles, but also those of meanest rank fired with Spanish blood, had passed, and the full results of which exhibited themselves just at the period of the discov- ery of America. During six or more of those itrovious centuries the Spaniard had been a fighter for his own terri- tory and creed. By desperate valor and inhuman cruelty he had driven the Moor from the former, and had engaged all the fury of a heart-consuming bigotry in a most devout though craven superstition to impose the latter. Honest, painstaking industry for thrift and homely good had no attraction for the Spaniard. Nor would even enterprise ■ SPIRIT OP DISCOVERY AND OP RAPINE. 51 on land or sea have engaged liini, liad not its eliarms liecu heightened not only by the hope of easily attained wealth, but by Opportunities of marauding adventure, and l»y vie- tiras on whom he might flesh his sword in ruthless carnage. In less tiian four years after Columbus had landed on the island, hundreds of thousands of the natives — more than a third of its population — had been j»ut to death. There seems to have been something aimless in this slaughter. It can hardly be said to have been even provoked in its primary indulgence ; and when the terrified and maddened natives were driven to resort to their simple methods of defence or flight, there was a wiMiton brutality, a dia- bolical and mocking revel of atrocity, in the fierce and indiscriminate method of hunting them for havoc and torture. The spirit of discovery had, from its first stirring among the people of Southern Europe, been associated witli the spirit of rapine and tyranny, and the enslavement of the people whom it brought to light. The discovery, under Prince Henry of Portugal, of the Canary Islands, put them as a matter of course under tribute to him. His naviga- tors then steadily coursed their way down the western coast of Africa. Cape Nam soon lost the significance of its name, "Not," as defining a limit for sric voyaging. Succes- sive adventurers, beginning their enterprises from about the year 1400, skirted the African coast further soutli, till 1480, when Bartholomew Diaz made his wav over six thou- sand miles of ocean to the Cape of Good Hope, and t>rned the continent. Slaves lu'came from the first an article of commerce for all these voyagers. It fell to Alexander VI., on application of Ferdinand and Isabella, to confer on their crowns all the lands in the " Indies " discovered and to be discovered. When what was thus given away umler the name of the l.....es proved to bo a whole new continent, Francis I. of France, envy- ing the wealth which the Emperor Charles V. drew from 62 SPANISH DISCOVEUERS AND INVADERS. H li> the New World, said he should like " to see the clause in Adam's will which entitled his brothers of Castile and Portugal to divide the New World between them." A trifling fact as concerning this sweeping donation of a whole continent to Spaniards, as the discoverers, may not be unwortny of notice. Columbus had with him on his first voyage an Englishman and an Irishman. Unhappily for us they do not appear to have had any skill of pen to have served us as journalists of the voyage. JJut let ua recognize them on the Spanish caravels as being there to represent the shares which have fallen to Englishmen and Irishmen on this soil ; and, if we need the Pope's sanction to confirm our present territorial rights, let us find it in our ancestral claims through that valiant Englishman and his Hibernian com[)anion. When, soon after Columbus's return from his first voy- age, the sovereigns applied to the court of Rome for an exclusive territorial title to the regions which their Admi- ral had discovered and might yet discover, they appear to have been persuaded that they had already secured that title by the fact of unveiling new lands in unknown seas. But influenced by jealousy of the Portuguese, who had already thus fortified their claims, they humbly asked the same saiiction from his Holiness. Three successive bulls, issued in 140Ji, were intended to make the papal donation secure to all lands extending from the northern to the southern pole. The Portuguese at once challenged its act- ual and possil)!c collision with their own prior rights. The other European sovereignties treated this exercise of the papal prerogative with utter indifference. Though tlioy alh)\ved nearly half a century to pass before they came into any ilircct rivalry with the Spaniards as they followed up their first enterprise, when French and English adventure entered on the track the Pope was not even appealed to as an arbiter. In IGll two small Spanish vessels made a feint of assaulting the miserable English colony in Virginia, but THE CHURCH VIEW OP HEATHENDOM. B6 gave over the enterprise under the belief that the colony was coming to its own speedy end. We must define to our minds as clearly as possible the fixed and positive conviction held by all Christendom at the era of transatlantic discovery, anticipatory of any act- ual knowledge of a new race or people, as to what should be the relation between Christians and all other men and women, wherever found and whatever their condition. All who were not in the fold of the holy Roman Church were heathens. Heathen people had no natural rights, and could attain no rights even of a common humanity, but through baptism into tlie fold. The great Reformation was then about stirring in its elemental work ; but as yet there had been no outburst. It had asserted its energy and wrought out its radical changes in human belief and prac- tice, in season to have secured a most powerful influence in deciding the conditions under which what is now our national domain was actually settled by colonies of Euro- peans in the seventeenth century. But the era of discovery was wlien the old Church held an unbroken sway, and the Pope was the lord of Christendom. Protestants and Catho- lics, as we shall see, diifered fundamentally as to their primary relations and duties towards our aborigines ; but the matter in many vital respects had been prejudiced by tlie course of the first comers as Catholics. The assump- tion, held as a self-evident truth by tlie Roman Church, was tliat a state of heathenism imposed a disablement which impaired all human rights of property, liberty, and even of life ; while the possession of the true faith conferred au- thority of jurisdiction over all the earth, with the right to seize and hold all heathen territory, and to sultjugate and exterminate all heathen jtcople who would not or could not be converted. As to what was meant by conversion, its means, methods, and evidences, the champion of the faith being the sole judge and arbiter in the case, there would be little satisfaction in raising any discussion. Ilowcver urro- 64 SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. gant and complacent this assumption may seem to us, it had so cuhninatcd la its conchision, had become so im- bedded in general belief, and was so unchallenged, that it v/as held as a self-evident truth. The Po])C was the vice- gerent of God, and the depositary of supreme power over men. All that we have had to rehearse of the relentless and shoclving barbarities inflicted on our aborigines by Spanish invaders as disciples and champions of the Roman Church, in their dealings with heathen, stands wholly free from ai>v sectarian Protestant prejudices. All our knowledge on thu subject is derived from the documents of the Spanisli and Catholic writers. They tell their own story, in their own way. The earliest elaborate discussion of the fundamental question of the right of a Christian nation to make con- quest of a barl)arous and idolatrous people, and to assume the mastery over them, was the result of the protest of that noble enthusiast and philanthropist. Las Casas, the great apostle to the Indies. His father had been one of Columbus's shijMnates in his first voyage. The first sen- timent of i)ity, which afterwards engaged the heart of Las Casas towards the natives for his whole following life, is thus pleasingly traced to its source. Among the captives taken to Spain l)y Columbus was a boy whom lie had given to the father of Las Casas. Tlie father had assigned this youth to his son, then a student at Salamanca. When Isa- bella had insisted that these captives should bo returned, the youth was taken with them, much to the grief of Las Casas. lie went with Ovando to Ilispaniola in 1502, in his twenty-eighth year, and at oiu'e became the frieiul and champion ""f the natives against tlie dire and ruthless bar- barities a\u. tlie shocking outrages, so inhuman and atro- cious, iuHicted upon thorn by the Spaniards, as they slew them by tliousands, after practising upon them the foulest treacheries, starving them, working them to death in the ^ 1 I S LAWFULNESS OP A WAR OP CONQUEST. 55 mines and pearl-fishcrica, anil in some places exterminat- ing them altogether. Las Casas, as liis knowh.'dgc and experience gradually enlightened him, protested against the whole course of proceeding; and at last, by honest soul wisdom, reached a conclusion which led him to assail the root of the whole inicpiity, and to deny the right of con- quest, with the inferences and conclusions drawn from the false assumption on that point. His heroic labors and his exposure to every form of peril and violence did not j)revent liis living with unimpaired vigor of mind to the age of ninety-two. In the first half of the sixt(!enth century ho crossed the ocean at least a dozen times on errands to the Court of Spain, to seek for help in his kindly projects and to thwart the wiles of his enemies. The learned and famous Dr. Juan Sepidveda, correspond- ent of Krasmus and Cardinal Pole, and historiographer to the Emperor Charles V., appeared as the leading opponent of Las Casas. He wrote a treatise — " Democrates Secundus, give de Justis Helli Causis " — maintaining the right of the Pope, as th(! vicegerent of Christ, and under him (hat of the kings of Spain, to make a contpiest of the New World, and subjects of its inhabitants, for thC' purpose of their conversion. In 1550 the Emperor convoked a junta of theologians and others of tlu; learned, to meet at Valladolid and (lel)ato the high and serious theme. Tlie Council of the affairs of the Indies were present, and the junta made up fourteen persons. Sepulveda made his argument, and Las Casas re- plied, takiiig five days to read the sul)stance of his treatise, called " Ilistoria Ajiologetica." The lawfulness of a war of Conquest against the natives of the New World (the compiest, of course, involving tlio ol)ligation of conversion) was maintained by Sepulveda substantially on these four grounds : — 1. Tlie grievous sinfidness of th(! Indians as idolaters, and against their own nature and the light of Nature. 56 SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. i I il I! I li 2. Their barbarousness, which made it proper and neces- sary tliat they should serve a rchncd pcoi)lc. 3. They must be subjugated in order that they might be brouglit under the True Faith. 4. The weak among them needed protection from the cruelties of the strong, in cannibalism, and in being sacri- ficed to false gods. Sepulveda argued that more victims were sacrificed to the idols than fell in war, — which state- ment was doubtless false. If the sort of Christianity which our age at least believes in, as " full of mercy and of good fruits," was what was to follow on such a conquest of idolatrous barbarians, these reasons would not have been without weight. The authority of Scripture adduced by Sepulveda was from Deuter. xx. 10-1.5. Las Casas went deep in his final plea when he urged, in answer, that the cruel deeds related in the Jew- ish Scriptures were set before us " to be mar ,lled at and not imitated."^ He also aflirmcd, as from his own experi- ence, that the work of conversion was better advanced by the gentle ways of peace and mercy than by the rage and havoc of war, especially with such mild and childlike na- tives. The apostle of love had to speak cautiously, with ecclesiastics before him and the Lupiisition behind him, when he im[)ugned the well-recognized assumption by the Church of the lawfulness of using force and cruelty in the interest of the true faith. As to the risrhts of the monarchs of Spain over "the Indies," he nobly pleaded that these were ' This single sentenco, coining from the ingenuity of the gentle heart of Las Casas, puts him two centuries in advance of his own age as n rationalizitig intcrjircter of the Scriiitures. It was a hold interpolation of his own to throw into the Helirewtext the suggestion that it was written to amaze, rather than to guide, suhseipient generations. Sepulveda was right in his interpretation of the text for those who believed in its divine, infallible authority. All the reason which sustained it as first used, applied to all like cases after- wards. The text, with inferences from it, as divine teaching— as also many other texts, es]iecially this: "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live" — was ample warrant to many denominations of Christians in persecuting and cruel proceedings. \ RAPACITY AND RELIGIOUS ZEAL. 67 not tlic rights of mere tyrants because of physical strengtli and military {)owcr, but rights as Christians to do the na- tives good and to promote good government among them, especially after having drawn so much treasure from them. Las Casus, then seventy-six years of age, was judged to have gained the moral victory ; but the decision of the Junta was against him, though with a halting earnestness, as the mon- arch only forbade the circulation of Sepulvcda's book in Mexico or the Indies. Some of the writings of Las Casas remain to this day in manuscript, under a jealous ecclesias- tical guardianship, accessible only to the privileged. In- deed, he himself appears to have directed such restrictions. Enough, however, is known of their revelations to explain their sufjpression. Some of the nuggets and dust of gold which Columbus took back with him on his first homeward voyage were made into a sacramental vessel for the " Host." The proportion of the coveted [)recious metal thus put to a consecrated use, compared to the freights of galleons and bullion-ships after- wards turned to the riot of rapacity and luxury, may fairly be taken as significant of the relations between the avowed missionary intent of the great enterprise of discovery and the direful spirit of remorseless iiduunanity in dealing with the natives of the new-found continent and islands. Of the nine of those natives whom Columbus carried to IJarcclona, two youths received in baptism the names of Ferdinand and Prince John, his son, who stood as their sponsors. T^he others were sent to Seville for a Christian education, that they might return as missionaries to their own ]ieoj)le. Twelve i)riests were transported for the same purpose, the noble Las Casas after his ordination, following as the best of them. In the royal instructions, dictated by the gentle heart of Isabella, the welfare and blessing of the natives were declared to be the main object of all the further efforts of Columbus, He was strictly charged to treat tliom ten- derly and lovingly, to deal with severity with any who might 68 SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. E wroiif]^ tliom, and to convey to tlicm the rich gifts sent to thcni hy the soveroijjns. Tlio first }jfroctiii<^ between the people of the Ohl and the New WorUl, the white men and the red men, was exolianjrcd by a company of one hundred and twenty rude and rcheUious sailors, on the three small vessels of Colum- bus. The second company of adventurers embraced at least fifteen hundred, on seventeen vessels. Many of them were n()l)les and gentlemen ; but these qualities do not imply the obligation of any higher restraint upon the pas- sions of greed and cruelty, as the titles borne by lr>panish grandees answered on the roll of honor only to a scale of degrees in rapacity, license, and immunity. The defini- tion of the term " hidalgo " is said to be, " a son of some- body," — not, however, in the general sense that every human being has had a paternity, but that that somebody liad a name. Wi\en the zeal and rapacity of Spanish hidalgos and great captains were stirred to a fever glow for further discovery and conijuest of the Indies, the King Fernan- do and his daughter Juana, Queen of Castile and Leon, sought vainly to extend, by some show of responsibility, the semblance of humaniiy towards the wretched natives. The work of tyranny and dev.astation, which had begun at the islands, was now rapidly extended to the mainland, in the region where the northern and southern portions of the continent were united between the two great oceans. Vasco Nunez, on a predatcny excursion from the Isthmus of Parien, had in September, 1513, climbed alone a moun- tain height, from which, so far as we know, he the first of all Europeans looked out ujion the so-called South Sea, — tiie vast expanse of the Pacific, wliich takes in more than half the surface of the globe. The sublime and awing spectacle moved him to pros^'-ate devotion and prayer by liimsclf. lie then summoned his followers to the same ecstasy of amazement, and to lift with him the Te Deum. THE "REQUISITION." 69 Afterward, reaching the sea at the Bay of San Miguel, ho waded into the water, with sword and shiehi, and took pos- session of the wliolc ocean, with its islands, for the kings of Castile. To this nolde and heroic Spaniard rightly ac- crued the glory, in lolO, of launching two well-<'(iuipped harks from the river Balsas, — the first keels of European navigators to plough the waters of the Pacific. And the feat which pnsceded this triumph was in full keeping with it ; for the timber of the vessels had been cut and framed on the Atlantic side of the continent, and the rigging and equipments had been transported with it by Spaniards, negroes, and Indians, with incredible toil, over the rough mountains and the oozy soil of the isthmus. The work of further conqiu'st was, by royal and ecclesi- astical instructi(jns, to proceed under the guidamic of a ))roclamation, which may safely be called the most extraor- dinary state document ever penned. Its whole jnirport, terms, and spirit are so astounding in the assumptions and in the impossildc conditions which it involved, as well as in the utter futility of its proffers of humanity to the Indians, tliat it would provoke the ridicule and derision of readers of these days as if it were a comic travesty, did it not deal with such profoundly momentous matters. Tiiis document, in the form of instructions to the viceroys in the Indies, was prepared l)y a learned S|)anish jurist, and bears the Latin title of " The Requisition." It was to be read as a proclamation, or a herald's announcement, l)y the com- mander as he invad('(l each Indian province for coiupiest, — an exception dispensing with this when the natives wero supposed to be so-called cannil)als. It recited the Bildo narrative of the creation by (Jod of the liuman pair; tho unity and the dispersion of the race ; the lordsliip over this whole race and over all the earth, which the Almighty had given to St. Peter, and then to his successors the jjopes; the donation made by the reigning pontiff of lordship over all the Indies to the monarchs of Spain ; and it called 60 SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. upon tlie natives to follow the whole civilized world in piiyinjj; obedience to and seokint; the protection of the Church. If the natives comply with this appeal, they and their lands shall he secure, and they shall have " many privilejres and exemptions"! If they refuse, robbery and devastation shall spoil all their possessions, and they them- selves will be enslaved or killed. A marvellously stranjre document indeed ! It war ,0 ho read by mail-clad and mounted warriors, with the' d- hounds, to naked, unarmed savaj^es. Who was to i- ^-.ret to them its theoloendix of Documents, " Columbus," vol. ii., applies to it the desigiiatiuu of a " curious manifesto." THE NATIVES AS DEVIL-WORSHIPPERS. 61 always laslied and maddened by tlic greed of frold and plunder. And if anything had been lacking to fill out the farcical absurdity and the comic drollery of the " Re(iui- sition," it is found in the fact, that, so far from an attempt being made by any preparatory warning to interpret it or to convey its sigiiilicance to a threatened and doomed Indian chieftain, the invaders, jilanning secret midnight attacks on the unsuspecting natives, would go through the form of mumbling over the jumble of theology and non- sense as they were hiding in the woods, all by themselves. And this grimly comic element in the alYair seems to have boon appreciated, on one occasion at least, by two caciijues of the ])rovincc of Genu, when the paper was in substance communicated to them by an invading captain, — the lawyer Enciso. The chiefs assented to what was said about the one supreme God, the Creator and Lord of all things; but " as to what was said about the Pope being lord of all the universe in the place of Cod, and of his giving tho land of the Indies to the King of Castile, the Pope must have been drunk when he did it, for ho gave what was not his ; and that the king who had asked such a gift must bo a madman in asking for what belongcnl to others." They added, that if he wanted the land he must come and take it, and they would put his head on a stake. An aggrava- tion of the superstitious frenzy against the poor heathen was found in the surmise that they actually W()rship[)ed the Devil. On the return of Columbus from his second voy- age, in 14!)t), he had in his train some fancifully bedizeiK'd native chiefs, on whose head-gear and l)elts wore wrought figures and grotes(iue emblems, some of which were re- garded as showing the Devil in his own j)roper likeness, others as in tho guise of a cat or owl. Kven the good friend of Columbus, the curate Bernaldez, interpreted tho symbols as those under which their uncanny deity appeared to them visibly. In the interest of the claims of the Roman Church to a 6S SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. heritage on this coiitinont, an article by the Panlist Fatlicr Ih'vkvv in tlie " Catholic World," for July, 1879, makes the following statement: — " Tho discovery of the western contin'^nt wns eminently a roli- gioua enterprise. The uiotivo which ttuiimited Columbus, in com- mon with tho Fmnciscan prior (his patron Perez) and Isabtdla tho Catholic, was tho burning desire to carry tho blessings of the Christian faith to the inhabitants of a now continent ; and it was tiio inspimtion of this idea which brought a new world to light. Sometimes missionaries were slain, but tlio fearless soldiers of tho cross continued uncoiisingly their work of converting the natives and bringing them into tho fold of Christ." Strangely enough do such sentences of a modern convert read, as a comment upon the actual deeds of the Spanish cru.saders, as related exclusively by Catholic writers. Wlien Columbus sailed in the spring of 141>8, on his third voyage, the disasters and discontents which had been thoroughly reported in Spain as having visited their miser- ies on the island colony, had substituted disgust for the former enthusiasm for sharing in the enterprise. The Ad- miral himself proposed that his new complement of men shoull be largely composed of convicts. Bitterly did he and the natives rue this experiment of the importation of men some of whom had judicially lost their ears. It was with such material on his arrival at Ilispaniola, where he found a full riot of mutiny and disorder, that Columbus had recourse to the system of repartitnientos, — a device which (luiekened and instigated many new forms of barbarous iniquity against the natives. This system was one by which vast tracts of land were assigned to the most desperate in their revolt, with the right to compel the labor of bands of the natives. One Spaniard thus became the irresponsible and arbitrary master of, it might be, hundreds of natives. These, of course, were but slaves. They had never needed and had never used anything answering to what we call bodily labor, or task-work, as their generous ENSLAVING OP THE NATIVES. 68 and Inxiirinnt groves and fields teemed with all that was re(ltiislte for their Hiilisistenco. Under the mastery and tho goadinfjf of the Spanianl they bent their baeivs to di^'jrinjr in the mines, to tillage in the fields to snpjjly a wasteful indul- genee, and to the earrying of liea\ burdeiui. As retain- ers of their oppressors they were also trained to warfare, and boinid to do a hateful service in raids against their own former friendly fellows. Mr. Parkman ^ rightly says that the spirit of Spanish en- terprise in America is expressed in the following address of Dr. Pedro de Santander, to the King, in 1557, of tho expedition of Do Soto : — " It is lawful that your Majesty, liko a good shopherd, appniutod by tho hand of tho Eternal Father, should tend and lead out your sheep, since tho Holy Spirit has aliuwn spreading ixistures where- on are feeding lost sheep, which have Ix'en snatched away liy tho dragon, the Demon. These pastures are the >«ew World, wherein is comprised Florida, now in possession of the Demon ; and hero ho makes himself adored and revered. Tliis is the Land of IVonnso possessed by idolaters, tlio Am,'t'Htril tlmt liiiibH ami othor fnif^niciitN of liu- nmii Ixiilirs stM'ii ill .soiii(> of Uic iiiitivo aliiiiH limy liuvu Imiuii tlio ntiimiim of n-littivcM iiitfiiili'J for ullVctioimto pruHoi'Viitiou. CRUEL DEALING WITH THE NATIVES. 05 npolnjry for tlioir coiiqurst." Popocatiipotl yioldod its ruI- jilmr to Cortes in rcplcnisliinf? his aiuniimitioii. Hut it (loos not iijipcar that any docpciiinj? slmdo of tlin slate of lieatlienisni hci-rlitcned in the breast of a child of tiio Church Uie ritrht or k it in the too faithful — we can hardly, in this connection, use tlu; pure ternts "truthful" and "candid" — historical narratives. There is no jiood use to rou)o of the rehearsal of tluMU. One whose painful task has reipiirecl of him to trace in the records that story of torturous horroi-, can bar lly fail to wish that those records had never been written, oi- that tluy had pei'ished, had lost their awfid skill of forever perpetuatiiiir the story of man's inhumanity to man, and had liecome as mute as the heart-pau;is and the once c, ivt'rin^ lUM'ves of th(> vic- tims that have been resolved into peacefui dust. Indeed, Si. faithfully was the curious skill of the iiraver eiitraired to illustrate the brutal enormities of these con; outrage to the story, this would lie found in tla; apparently utter insensihility to their own cruelty and Irreverence in whidi the Spaniards attached the holiest names and epithets to the places where their acts were often the most liendish, — names l»orne hy many of those places to this day. The sacred tith' of the Trinity; the ikmucs of Fat. ler. Son, and Holy Spirit; the swi-et roll of epithets — of love, pity, menT, and sorrow — for the Virjiin Mother; the names of prophets, apostles, and evanp'elists, of saints and mai'- tyrs, of holy days and sa»'raments, — are strewn all over the islands, hays, coasts, and rivers of our southern conti- SniP-LOAUS OF SLAVES TRANSPORTED. 0< ncnt, aiieum, and named the liloody spot "Saint Mary of \'ietory." He wrote that the odds had heen so iuinionse atrainst him "that Heaven must have foutdit on his side." Las Casas dryly adds, that " this was the lirst preaehintr of the p)spel l»y Cortes in N(>w Spain." Columlais, with all his noiileness of soul, has left no exam- ple si't by him, and no protest, for withstanding or rel)ulh, that he touched the nuiinland of the continenr, at Paria, near the Isthmus (»f Darien ; and then followed iu succession the work of so-called discovery, vhicji opened either division of the continent to the same worse than barbarous huvoc of rapacity and liendishness. 68 SPANISH DISCOVERKRS AND INVADERS. Minos of tlic i»r('cious mctuls, frcins iind poarla — ovfn move tliaii Inod antl water wlieu tlify wen; on the cdi^v of death — were the consmning cravings of th«! Spaniard. If a sinji'le token of sneli treasure was seen to s|)arklc or to j»;leani on the jiorson of a .savaj^- fore the (h'eams of the invaders of sjxtts wlierc tiie soil was ma nmst make entphatic the verl)al statement, — and. i»ur chiiiity nnist add, the intent, — that conversion to the true faith and fold must he the accompaniment auy the million in the savairi'ry of the pro- eess which was dcsitiui'd for their convt>rsi(»n, this acci- dent did not prejudice the riirhtness ami Imliuess itf the intent. The couipicrors meant to impart to the poor h(>- niLdited creatures an unspeakahle deliverance iiud lilesH- iuil ; hut Satan had the start of them, and claimed his own. When, ufter un atrocious eonrse of rapine, treach- 1 THE sTItON(} AGAINST TIIK WKAK. ()9 cry, an*! fo rnoity l.y till inviulcrs, the Inca Atahual|»a was in tl ic jlOWCl (.f the Spiinianis, his sentence \v as to , he hroii^'ht to death hy lire. This was niereirully coni- niut(>U to death hy tho huwstring, uu the vietiui's con- sent in<; to h(; liaptized. To he haptizedl In the — dtoont shall we call it? — con- viction ol' priest and iieliever, haptisni si^niilied conversion. True, men cann<»t injpart. wliat they have not tiicnisclves; and as haptisiu was aitoiit the; whole ot Christianity of which the ruthless invaders had the knowled^rc or the advantajrc, the rite siixnilied the impart iuj( the full henelit of the L'ospcl of I'hrist to the heathen, as it diat Mritain up to our own time, suhstitutim; the claims of civili/ation and of fi-ce iuli-i-ciiinse Uw trade for those which the Spanianls advanced for the " holy faith," has committed like atroeitit-s in every (puirter of the ^Inhe. Kvery feehle people and race, with dejj;ree« of civilization or Itarharism, has had to yield to ht>r couipulsion for in- tercourse heyond their own wish and need; and she hiu) 70 SPANISH DlSCOVKRERa AND INVADERS. • !l Bcourofl tlio Rcas and ponotvatod doscrt;^ to find victims of her mania tor civilizini^ tin; world. IJut ilic Spaniards, as tilt'}' wore tlie first in tlic wrong, so tlu'y wore beyond all approach of rivalry in the sum and method of their de- vastating and aindess havoc of frenzied and satanic passion against the least warlike and the most inoiTensive of all our native tribes. If historic fidelity and candor in the use of our authorities would allow, it would cheer alike reader and writer if this direful r«'cord (jf slauglit(M" and torture of a defenceless iHHtple had been at It^ast, if not etlectually, with- stood by a steady protest, not merely from a single ecclesi- astic, but by a consid(>rable number of those who professed that the mainspring of the enterprise was the conversion of the native's. Instead of this relief, however, we do not need to pause long in our moralizing over the story to find that the most repulsive and shocking clcMuent in it is the jier- sistent olttrusinn, the even blasphemous reitei'ation, (»f a religious motive of the ('on(|uest. The .b'suit Father, I'har- Icvoix, who wrote a history of St. Pomingo as well a.s of New P^-ance, gives in the latter work the following a.s one of the motives which prompted his historical labors : — " I liiivo resulvod to untlertako this work in tliu dosiro to niuko known tlio niorcios of tho Lord and tlu) triumph of religion ovor that sniiill numhor of thw elect, prodestinod Ixiforo all ages, uiuid so many .'ravage tribes, \vlii(;li till the Krencli eiileird their cuiuitry hud lain buried in the thiekesl darknes.s nf infidehty." ' 1 • There was reason for this pious motive on the ])art of the historian who luid to relate the zeal, devotion, iind to themselves the satisfactory and rewarding success of his brother missionaries in Xew France. JJut he has noth- ing of the kind to tell us of Christian missionai'ics in St. Domingo before the work of devastation and depopula- tion had b(>en com|)leted. The ludives were foimd by the Spaniards in a jteaceful, contented, and, so to speak, in- * Charlevoix's Now Fnince, Shea's tiiiiislution, vol. i. p. 103. TnE DOMINICAN FRIARS. 71 nocont ronditlon. Thcro were from the first somo nmon;' tin; Spiiiiisli iuviulors, hcsidcs cccdosiastics, who wcrt! lucii of ficiitic l»l(jo(l anil of ediiciitiou. They cixllcil tlioinsclvcs Christians. All their retVroiico.s to their " sacred faith," their most " holy church," an; jtrofoundly reverential, and they exult over their privih'jjes as its children. 'I'he f ice- hooters and desperadoes amonj; them, even the worst of them, did hold in dread the anathemas of tin; Churtdi. The must and the least craven of them shrunk with tei-ror from the denial of its sacraments in life and death. Why was the Church so utterly powerless and palsied then, in the exercise of a sway such as it has never had since that aire '! True, the ecclesiastics amon'(ominican order in Spain in a complaint u^iinst the preacher. It was »»nly after meetinjj: and overcominj? nuuiy obstacles and nmch resis(aiu'i' (hat Fatliei' .\ntonio obtained access and a hcariuL' ut Coml. l>ut his nobh; earnestness was not wholly without ell'ect. Thus were tlit; cidonists and the natives represeut<'d l»y jiriest airainst priest. The kiuL' to(»k the usual course of relerrinjf the controversy to a junta, composed of some of his council and of tliet)lo- jrians. jhit little (!uit accrued to the relief or benelit of the natives came from the conference, from the measures which U'J THE DOCTRINES OF HELL AND BAI'TIHM. 78 it rccommctidod, or from tlio C()n80(|iiont orders of tlio kini?. The Mativt's must be made to eoiisciit to We eoiivcitcd ; tliey must svork tor their masters; tliev must l)e kindly treat('<|, and after a fashion mii;ht reeeive sonielhinuj to be eallcti waffcs. The most jrrateful residl from the mission of the two priests representing^ the two Hides of a bitter strife was tluit the Dominiean, l»y his ^rniei; and skill of heart and zeal in private eonferenees, earnest and continued, eompU'tely won over t(t sympathy and co-operation with him his Fran- ciscan brother. 'I'he natives, however, had l»ecome thorouiihly alienated by hatred and ilread from the Spaniards, and kept aloof from them. What indeed juul these Spaniards, with the proll'er of their "holy faith," to tem|tt and draw to them these children of Nature 'i What of help or l>lessinir, <»f human pity and tenderness, came from them? Vet the uion; the luitives shunned their tormentors, and souuht to keep as far as possilile from them, their aversion was ac- counted as only an obdiu-ate resistance to beintr converted. When (.'ortes, in his second expedition, was preparini^ for his sieue of Montezuma's capital, he issued to his sol- diers a papei- nf elaborate instructi(U»s. In tills he said "conversion" was the irreat aim which made his enter- l)ris(! a holy one, and that "without it the war would bo manif 'stly luijti.st, and ev«'ry aciiuisitiun made by it a rubuery." Tn the enliirhtenment and free-thiidiiiiir of our own aijje, which have relieved it from what are reiranled as the l)U<;bear superstitions and dreatls fostered by the old priest- craft, there are many who will fi-ankly say that lh(> easy method oIVchmI to the heathen l»y which they miLiht eseajio the fearful iloom of hell, was just as rational as was the tciachint,' them that they were really under such a doom. The doctrine of hell, and the rite of baptism as the symbol of full salvation from it, were well adjusted to each other, — both being irrational, superstitious, and child- 74 SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. I ish, the ono ()ITsottin<; tlio other. Tho natives certainly had not th(! sli,i;ht(\st rseeu- tors and formalists many years of painful and halllctl ef- fort to learn as proved truths, while on a visit to l-lnuland in l(i4:J, wrote antl left for pultlication there a little! tract with the title, " ()hrist(!nimrs make not Christians; Or a brief hiseourso coneernini^ that name //«v<^/u'«, commonly j^iven to the Indians. As also concernini? that jrn^at point of their conversion." ' In this tract the writer, referi'inj? to the Spanish and French religious dealings with the na- tives, says : — " If tlio rpptirt.s (yoa somo of tlioir own /fi«fr>ri line or point which divid(!s l)ari>arisni from civilization. I'n.'scott says that the civilization of Mexico was (Miuivalent to that of Kn^'land under Alfred, and similar to that of anciitnt and modern iyirypt. The hasis of tliis estimate is, that tho Mexicans had made an advance on a noma as hunters, and were lixe(l cultivators of the soil, raisini; corn, cotton, and ve^etalil(!s, with skilled manufairtures, with adohe dwell- ings, with hii!ro;:iyphical records for their annals: and that they showed architectural skill, as also ingenuity in a meth(jd of irriiiatinti' their fields. After makinu; due allowance for the pure lictions and the proved exair^crations of the early Spanish chroniclers, all thai se(>ms certiiicd to us altout the husliandry and maimfairtnres, the palatial and ceremonial pomp, and the forms of law nmonv; the Mexicans, would not set them be- yond that state which, when speakin;^ of Orientals, w(^ call barliaric. It can hardly lie allowed that a people are in any appn;- cial)le staire of civilization who oiler human saerilices and cut human flesh. Nor does it much relieve the nuittcr to suiTLn'st that the latter hitleous practice did nut indicuto a caniiilial relish Inr such viands, liut was simply incident to the previous relitrinus c«'remoiiial of ((tiering limnan victims in sacrilice. The evidence seems sulVieient that human flesh was a nii/ke* <'(iniiiindity in .Mexico, hav- ind courses on Montezuma's table. Peter Martyr tells us how "the hellish butchers," as l;e calls them, prepared it. Tho blood of infants was used in the composition of sacrili- IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) V // {/ :/ ^ A A 1.0 I.I itf IIM 112.5 11 llllitt IM 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 -< 6" — ► V] & //, 'c^l a O ^h 7 ///, Photographic Sciences Corporation S ^ d, % •^ iV <^ ^9) V ^ 6^ .<> % "9) V 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14S80 (716) 872-4503 %^ ^d 76 SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. cial cakes : some of these were once sent as a propitiatory offering to Cortes. It may be urged that even these prac- tices do not bar a claim to a stage of civilization, if we still allow the term where superstition about God and cruelty towards men match the most foul and atrocious practices of savages. There are not lacliing in our voluminous literature on this subject — representing, as it does, the diversity of opinions and judgments passed on the methods of the Spanish invaders, as presented in different aspects ^plead- ings reducing or palliating the atrocities which to us seem unrelieved, as springing from a ruthless cruelty. Hum- boldt says that we must allow in them for other and less mean passions tlian rapacity and fanaticism. Tracing these passions and others associated with them to their springs, they may be found to have arisen, and to have been inten- sified in their indulgence, by what we may call — though we can but vaguely define it — the chivalric spirit of the peo- ple and the age. Tliis spirit — associated witli crusades and religious wars, with the embittered hate of Moslems and Jews, with daring and reckless enterprises of adven- ture, with utter fearlessness in rislcing one's own limbs and life, and with a burning emulation of achievement through prowess and desperate endeavor — was transferred from its old, familiar, and comparatively exliausted fields to wholly new scenes, materials, and opportunities. These seem to have [)resented to tlie Spaniards no incitements to mental activity, to curious inquiries as to the antecedents of their new surroundings, to speculative or scientific inves- tigations. All these intellectual instigations and processes, whicli have been so sedulously and ingeniously exercised under the quickening influences of the modern expansion of intelligence, had no attraction for those of sucli inert and undeveloped natures as marked tiio heterogeneous companies of adventurers flocking here with untrained principles and under the spell of the wildest impulses. ' I DE SOTO'S RAVAGES. 77 The simple natives of the valleys and the mountains were regarded as game for the hunt. Had these natives been of a sturdier stock, — heroic, defiant, and resolved, and able from the first to contest each step and to resent each wrong of the invaders, — the game would at least liaA^e been lifted above a mere hunt as for foxes and rabbits to the more serious enterprise of an encounter with buffaloes, pantlicrs, and grizzly bears. The tameness and defencc- lessness of tlie natives seem even to have become incite- ments to the Spaniards for a wanton spoi't of outrage upon them. There were master minds among the invaders, — men temporarily at least invested with powers, by com- missions and instructions from their sovereigns, to exercise authority in the interests of wisdom and humanity. But their jealousies and the intrigues of their enemies at the court were constantly disabling and dis[)lacing them ; so that there was here no grasp of control, no sternness of law and obedience. The progress of the same kind of conquest by the Span- iards who fii'st came into contact with the savages in the southern portion of our present domain, was attended by the same outrages and barbarities which marked its begin- nings. De Soto had received his training for the opening and conquest of the regions of Alabama, Georgia, and Mis- sissippi, while a youth under Pizarro, in Peru. On his return the Spanish court made him governor of Cuba, and Adelantado, or provincial governor, of Florida. On arriv- ing in Florida, in May, 1539, his first business was to cap- ture some natives as slaves, pack-carriers, and guides. He found great help as an interpreter in a Spaniard, Juan Ortiz, who, having been captured by the Indians from the com- pany under Narvaez, in 1528, had been living among them. De Soto had about a thousand followers, soldiers in full armor, with cutlasses and fire-arms, one cannon, two hun- dred and thirteen horses, greyhounds and blood-liounds, handcuffs, neck-collars, and chains for captives, all sorts I-. ' 78 SPANISH DISCOVERKllS AND INVADERS. of equipments and workmen, swine and poultry, priests, monks, and altar furniture. He had learned in Peru just what apijliances were necessary for hounding and torment- ing savages. But he had a rough and fierce experience in Florida. The natives were numerous, hold, and enraged by the memory of the barbarities of Narvaez. Yet he was, as a matter of course, successful. He soon captured In- dians enough to carry his baggage and to do the menial work of his camps, as goaded slaves. He steadily hewed on his plundering way, with an expedition to Pensacola and an invasion of Georgia. Tliougli lie received kind treatment and warm hospitality from many chiefs and their tribes, he villanously repaid it by all manner of das- tardly outrages, led on and maddened by the hoix; of mineral treasures, and indulging in abominable deliauch- eries. After having been generously entertained for thirty days where now stands tlie town of Rome, he ])roceedcd to ravage the neighboring country. With Indians as his bur- den carriers, he entered Alabama, in July, 1540, where the natives liad then their first siglit of white men and horses. The pestiferous miasmas of those fair and fruitful regions proved very fatal to the Europeans, and the swamps, mos- quitoes, and alligators would have overborne the fortitude and resolve of the invaders but for the passion for wealth that lured them on. Tlie enslaved natives had to carry on litters many sick, in addition to their other burdens. De Soto had brought witli him from Florida five hundred of the natives, men and women, chained and under guard. As any of these sickened or died, their places were sup- plied by fresh captives from bauds of the Indians who ventured to face him. Tlie simjjlc and bewildered natives soon lost all the dread and awe with which they would have continued to venerate the strangers, as they saw them not only reduced by common human weaknesses, but exhibiting their odious character as robbers, tliieves, assassins, and cruel desperadoes. The Spaniards visited THE SPANIARDS ON THE PACIFIC. 79 the vilest outrages upon those who treated them witli tlie most deference and friendliness. Making their way to Mobile, the mailed scoundrels were withstood by the brave but unprotected natives, who were overborne by horrible carnage. A battle which lasted for nine hours proved severe in its results upon the Spaniards. Eighty-two of them were killed, with forty-five of their horses. All their camp equipage, stores, instruments, medicines, and sacra- mental furniture were burned. Of the savages five or six hundred were slain. After similar progress and ravages De Soto reached the bank of the Mississippi, where, worn out by excitement, effort, and disease, lie died, in May, 1542 ; and his body was sunk by night in the turbid stream. His successor in command, with a remnant of three hun- dred and tAventy men of the splendid army of one thousand, — their array humiliated and reduced to starvation, — leav- ing five hundred of his Indian slaves and taking with him one hundred, put together some wretched rafts, and floating down the river landed again at Tampa Bay, after four years of reckless and devastating wandering through Florida, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, and the Arkansas territory. The natives had been terribly reduced in numbers, except in Georgia. The Muscogees, previously living in the Ohio Val- ley, moved down soon after to Alabama, incorporating with them remnants of northern tribes which had been ravaged by the Iroquois and Ilurons. It is to this miscellaneous gathering from fragments of adopted and conquered tribes that the English, when first penetrating the country, gave the name of " Creeks," from the number of streams which course it. The Spaniards were the first of Europeans to come into contact with the natives on our Pacific coast. While Piz- arro, after crossing the Istlimus, went southward, and with heroic perseverance against all bafflings discovered Peru, in 1527, and made his " Conquest " of it in 1532, another 80 SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. party "went northward. The further lure was the dis- covery of tlie Spice Islands. A station for supplies was established at Panama. Gil Gonzalez claimed tlie whole country of Nicaragua, whose coast he \ l^itcd. The Span- iards claim special success and benefit for the natives from their mission and civilizing work among them in California, when entered by Cabrillo, in 1542. Their mission work, liowever, did not begin till near the close of the seventeenth century. This mission work was begun by the Jesuits, and was pursued by them till the general expulsion of the order from the Spanish dominions. The Franciscans succeeded them, and then the Dominicans. Alexander Forbes, in his "History of California," gives from the work of Father Vene- gas, and from his own observations, very interesting ac- counts of tiie condition and results of the Spanish missions. Tlie field was a stern and hard one, but it had been heroi- cally worked. There were sixteen stations there in 1767, when the Jesuits were expelled. Tlie funds for the mis- sions were invested in farms in Mexico. Wo may here anticipate a statement, to be more fully ad- vanced on later pages, that the Roman Catholic missions among the Indians, from the very first down to our own times, have been far more successful in accomplishing the aims and results which they have had in view, than have been those of any or of all the denominotions of Protestants. But those aims and expected results have been most widely unlike, if not in full contrast, as had in view and labored for by Catholics and Protestants. In nothing concerning the theology or the government and discipline of those severed parties of the Christian fold, is the difference between them so broad or so deep as in the fundamental variance of their respective views as to the essential requisite for the conver- sion and Christianization of an American savage. Devout and heroic priests of the Roman Church, sharing the sweet and humane spirit of Las Casas, soon came hither from Spain on their consecrated missions, and according to their PRIESTLY METHODS WITH THE INDIAN. 81 light in the exercise of their office, their interpretation of the Christian Gospel, and in hiyalty to holy Church, they spent their lives, in perfect self-abnegation, through perils and stern sacrifices, in efforts to win the savages into the saving fold. It seems to us that what they were content to aim for would have been most easy of accomplishment ; that the method which they adopted and the result which was to give them full satisfaction were such as might have been read- ily realized, especially when we consider the docility of the race of savages who were the first subjects of their efforts. They did not task in any way the understandings of the na- tives, nor provoke them to curious and perplexing exerci- ses. They started with the positive authority, conveyed in simple, direct assertion, without explanation or argument, of the few fundamental doctrines of the Church ; asking only, and fully content with, assent to them, however faint might be the apprehension of them by the neophytes, and however vacant or bewildered the mind which was to assimilate from them ideas or convictions. These pro- cesses of the understanding might be expected to follow after, if they were naturally and healthfully prompted, in the Christian development of the savage ; but implicit ac- ceptance of the elementary lessons was all that was ex- acted. The Creed and the Lord's Prayer were taught them by rote, first in Latin or Spanish, and as soon as possible interpreted in theii" own tongues. Then the altar service of the Church, with such gestures and observances as ifc required, with the help of candles, pictures, emblems, and processions for interpreting and aiding it, constituted the main part of what was exacted as the practice of Christian piety. The wild habits, customs, mode of life, and relations to each other of the savages were interfered with .s little as possible. The rite of baptism sealed the salvation of the subject of it, whether infant or adult, and there was haste rather than delay in granting the boon. All the hard task-work of the Protestant missionary, to convey didactic 6 82 SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADERS. instruction, to implant ideas, to stir mental activity, to ex- plain doctrines, to open arguments, was dispensed with by the priest of tlie Roman Church. The Protestant could not take the first step in the conversion of a native without advancing it upon a previous stage in the process of civili- zation. His only medium was the mind, without any help from objective teaching by ritual, picture, or observance, or any aid from sense. The hopeful convert for the Protes- tant was conpidered as making difficult progress in his dis- cipleship just to the degree in which he changed the whole manner and habit of his life. In general it may be said that the Franciscan and the Jesuit Fathers have found satisfaction in their mission work among the American aborigines. They set for them- selves an aim, with methods and conditions for securing it; and though these, being conformed to the theory of the Roman Church, may seem altogether inadequate as viewed by Protestants, they were the rule for its priests, and the result has stood to them for success. In the judgment of Protestants, however, without any sharp indulgence of a sectarian spirit, it is to be affirmed, that, even if all the priests had been wise and faithful in their offices, this would not relieve the invasion and administration of the Spaniards in America from the se- vere reproach of a most unchristian treatment of the natives. The fidelity of the priests, taken in connection with the wilful recklessness of the soldiers and marauders, would but serve to confirm in the minds of Protestants a conviction which has many other tokens to warrant it, — that in the Roman system the Church is the priest- hood, the laity being only a constituency and a following. Had the disciples of the Church no responsibility in the matter ? We have to look to the theocratical commonwealth estab- lished by the Jesuits in Paraguay, with its military appli- ances and fortresses, its rigidity of discipline, and its minute I I THE CALIFORNIA MISSIONS. 88 ^ oversight of all the incidents and experiences of the daily life of the natives, for an illustration of the ideal of mission worlc as entertained by the priests of that period. The Jesuit commonwealth stands in strange contrast with the Puritan theocracy of Massachusetts, and it would be a curious study to draw out that contrast in particulars as covering matters of faith and rules of life. Our views of the extreme austerity and bigotry of the Puritan discipline as enforced among themselves by a company of English Protestants, would find quite another field for their exer- cise in tracing the method of priestly control over a gene- rally docile and inert people, who were to be isolated on their peninsular domain from all hitercourse with the open world. The Fathers in the California missions had for the most part to feed and clothe their converts, to arrest their no- madic life, and, as the soil was light, to bring in the means of subsistence. The population of Lower California pre- sented to Forbes, in 1835, a curious mixture of the j)rogeny of European seamen, Spanish Creoles, and Indians. The writer says the missionaries had the finest fields and cli- mate, the fairest opportunities, and the most facile subjects. But while he extols their sincerity and devotion, the results of their labors Avere to him doleful and dreary enough. " Most of the missions," he says, " arc in a wrctclicd con- dition, and the Indians — poor and helpless slaves, both in body and mind — have no knowledge and no will but those of the Friars." The word domesticated, as applied to ani- mals, is more applicable to them than the word civilized. In 1833 about twenty thousand natives were comiected with the missions, and soldiers were needed at every sta- tion. The Indians were lazy and helpless slaves, fed and flogged to compel their attendance on the Mass, and besotted by superstition. When California was joine. ■ the Union, it was esti- mated, — doubtless, extravagantly, — that there were in 84 SPANISH DISCOVERERS AND INVADMRS. its bounds one liundred tliousand Indians, and that a fifth part of these were more or less connected with the mis- sions, partially civilized, jobbing, begging, stealing, labor- ing on the farms of Europeans, gambling and drinking, and generally in stages of improvidence, dissoluteness, and imbecility. The wild Indians in the gold-bearing regions were ruthlessly dealt with by adventurers, explorers, and miners. After futile efforts by Congress by appropriations through commissioners and agents, — of which the Indians were wickedly defrauded, being only the more ingeniously wronged, — in 15 53 tracts of twenty -five thousand acres were defined as Reservations for them. The hope was to secure, by the aid of resident guardians and advisers, and on a larger scale, all that had been good in the farming and missionary methods of the Spaniards. It would have been gratifying to our national pride, if, in closing the review of the harrowing history of the dealings of the Spaniards with the original tribes on our present domain, we could say truly, that the transfer of respon- sibility to our own Government had essentially modified or improved the condition of those representatives of the native stock which had, for three centuries, been under the ecclesiastical and colonial charge of the royal successors of Ferdinand and Isabella. CHAPTER II. THE INDIAN. — HIS ORIGIN, NUMBERS, PERSON, AND CHARACTER. It would have been but reasonable to have expected that the opening of an inhabited continent — more than half the land surface of the globe — to the intelligent curiosity of the representatives of the civilization of the Old World, would have contributed largely to the sum and the ele- ments of our knowledge of the origin and history of our human race. Anything that was to be learned of aborig- inal life here would have been invaluable to the archaeol- ogist, and might have served towards solving the problems yet left imfathorncd by all the skill of science and all the monumental relics on the other continents. Whether either of these halves of the globe had originally received its hu- man inhabitants from the other half, or had been stocked each by its independent ancestry, an unknown lapse of ages had transpired without intercourse between them. We might have looked at least for the means of deciding this alternative of unity or diversity in the origin of our race. The means for that decision would have been sought in traditions and tokens of a primitive kinship and history, while any radical and heterogeneous characteristics run- ning through the inhabitants of either half of the globe would have brought their unity of origin under serious question. Regrets have often been expressed that this question was not at once made the subject of keenly in- telligent investigation by the first Europeans in their inter- 8G THK INDIAN. — HIS OKIIJIN, NUMHEUS, ETC. course with the abovi,u:ino.s. It is taken for granted that the opportunity woukl hiive favored the ac(iuisition of some l)ositive and liolpful knowledge which has since faihnl. It is very doubtful, however, whether the lapse of the last four centuries has really deepened what was then the obscurity that covered these inquiries. What are supposed to be the oldest crania and other human relics on the continent generally crumble to dust when exposed to light and air. One of our archaeologists tells us that some bones of the mastodon, antedating the age of the Mound Builders, when excavated from a peat-, imp, yielded gelatinous matter for constituting a rich sou]).^ But there are no such juices left here in the relics of primeval man. It was only after long intervals of time that different longitudinal and latitu- dinal sections of this northern half of our continent were reached by white men. About a century intervened be- tween the first intercourse of the Spaniards with the south- ern tribes and that of the French with the northern tribes. Cabeza de Vaca, of the company of Narvaez, is accredited as the first European who stood on the banks of the Missis- sippi, and crossed the continent from sea to sea, in 1528. The Sieur Nicolet was the first of Frenchmen who, in 1639, reached the waters of that river from the north. The first pueblo captured in Mexico by Cortes was in 1520. Corona- do's expedition against the " Seven Cities of Cibola " was in 1540. Some Village Indians in New Mexico are thought to be in the present occupancy of the adobe houses of their predecessors at the Conquest. This term, " Village In- dians," is expressive of a distinction gradually coming to the knowledge of the whites between sedentary and roving tribes of the aborigines. Our information is very scanty as to the characteristics of difference, in gross and in detail, between various tribes of Indians originally, and imme- diately subsequent to their first intercourse with the whites. Wc know but little of the conditions of proximity, relation- 1 Foster's Pre Historic Races, p. 370. INDIAN COMMUNAL LIFE. 87 ht leir In- to ing as ail, ne- pes. |on- sliip, anrl necessity which drew them into fellowships, witli connnon interests anioni; themselves, called hy us " tribes," or to wiiat extent alliances existed among them for jjcacc and war. There Avere needful limitations in the size of those fcllowshi])s, iiu^.^sed by the conditions of their ex- istence. The Natchez and Arkansas tribes arc regarded as among the most advanced of those of our northern section when first known to Euroi)eans. The late Lewis H. Morgan, partly througli the inter- pretation of facts, and partly with the inferences from a reasonable theory, has contributed valuable aid to our un- derstanding of aboriginal life. He maintains that their liousehold life was constructed on the communal system, uniting alliliated families as a gens. When the Five Na- tions, or Iroquois, inhabiting central New York, were first visited by Europeans, they were found to bo gathered in family groups of twenty, forty, or even larger households, all literally under one roof. A " Long House," constructed strongly and for permanency of wood and bark, with a continuous passage through the middle, one door of en- trance, provision for the necessary number of fires, and partitions dividing the area, was the common home it might be even of a hundred or more persons. The inmates shared together the yield of the harvest and the hunt. Starting from this Avell-certified fact, Mr. Morgan proceeds to draw reasonable inferences that this communal system for life, for affiliated families or companies of the aborigines, — gen- erally, and indeed universally, except where circumstances might have withstood it, — prevailed among them. It was once supposed that the extensive adobe structures in New Mexico and in Central America — with their walled en- closures unpicrced in the lower story by door or window, and terraced by two, three, or more stories reared upon them, to which access was gained by ladders — vere the remains of the palatial residences of chiefs and caciques, and that they were then surrounded with clusters of more 88 THE INDIAN. — HIS ORIGIN, NUMBERS, ETC. I huml)le abodes, making villages for the tribes. These, being of frail structure, had left no vestige. But these supposed palatial residences are now believed to have an- swered to the Long Houses of the Iroquois, and to liave been of communal use, — some of them capable of accom- modating from five to eight hundred families. It is a fur- ther easy inference from the starting point of fact, to affirm that the " dirt lodges " of the Mandans, the caves of the Cliff Dwellers, and the Mounds of our western valleys bear witness to the same communal mode of life of our abo- rigines. It is supposed that those mounds of earth — a substitute for stone where it' was not available for the pur- pose — were simply the base for the erection over them of dwellings of wood or bark, which have perished. This theory also suggests and favors a method for distinguish- ing several stages or types in savage life, between extreme barbarism and approximations towards civilization. It would simply embarrass the mainly nnrrative purpose of this volume to attempt here any elaborate or even concise statement of the distribution, classification, organization, and designation by names or localities of our aboriginal tribes. Such information — not by any means always accordant — as special inquirers and writers on these in- tricate an^^ "icrplexcd themes have furnished, is easily acces- sible ■ Dill- ibounding literature of the subject. Very few of t. J .. ;S originally attached by the first Europeans here to ■ tribes earliest known to them are now in use. The san cribes were known by different appellations as- signed to chem by the French, the Dutch, and the English. There has been a steatly increase of appellations for bands and tribes, as the Avliites have extended their intercourse and relations with them. "Within the last two or three decodes each year has added new titles on the lists of the Reports of the Indian Commissioners. Some of the earliest known tribes — as the Pamunkeys of Virginia, the Lenape of Pennsylvania, the Narragansetts, the Mohi- 1 ' PLACE OF THE SAVAOE IN HUMANITY. 89 he a, li- l» cans, the Pcquots, and the Nipmucks of New England — have become extinct, or sucli surviving remnants of tlieir stock as may exist have been merged in other tribes ; what there are of tlie Lenape are now known as Delawares. The same processes of the absorption or extinction of tribal names, which began among the aborigines on the sea-coast, have followed the extension of invasions and settlements through the whole breadth of the continent. One tribe has adopted the remnant of one or more other tribes, giving to them its own name, or appropriating a new one. Many of the original and of the existing tribes were and are known by an alias. Such titles as the Nez-Perces, the Gros-Ventres, and the Diggers speak for themselves as conferred upon, not assumed by, those who bear them. Remnants of seventeen tribes, collected from Oregon and Northern California, are consolidated in the Grande Ronde agency in Oregon. Such matters as are of chief impor- tance and interest on these points will present themselves in subsequent pages. What is the relative place on the scale of humanity to be assigned to the average North American Indian ? Cer- tainly, not near the top of that scale ; as certainly, not at the foot of it. The scale is a full and varied one. We know far better than our ancestors knew, at the time when they first saw our aborigines, how many links there are on the chain of a common humanity. The anatomy of the skeleton, the outlines of the form, and the possession of any ray of that intelligence which we distinguish from instinct in animals, — these are in general the certificates of a claim for men over brutes. In assigning a place on the human scale to anv tribe or race of human beinsfs, we must first have defined to ourselves the specimens which mark its highest and its lowest. Nor in either case must we accept an ideal as a specimen. The loftiest definition ever given of the being called man is in the Scripture sen- tence, that he is but " a little lower than the angels, and ia 90 THE INDIAN. — HIS ORIGIN, NUMBERS, ETC. T crowned with glory and honor." The greatest of poets has expanded this liigh strain : " Wliat a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form and moving how express and admirable ! in action how like an angel ! in apprehension how like a God ! " But wc have to say, using one of the trickeries of language of our time, " There are men, and there are men." If we should search for the lowest specimen of humanity to offset the topmost one, whether ideal or real, we should by no means find that lowest specimen in an average North American Indian. Stanley would furnish us from the interior of Africa lower grades than have ever been classified before. The archi- pelagoes of the Pacific, especially the Fijian, revealed the lowest known to us. In one point of view, from Mr. Dar- win's position, it would seem as if the evolution theory might prove itself from the fact that there are really no " missing links " in the gradations from brute to man. Yet, not so. The line between human beings and brute creatures may be blurred ; but it is not obliterated or un- traceable. This, however, is certain, — that there are now hordes and tribes and groups of such beings as we have nevertheless to call human, which present to us man far, far below the average type of the North American savage when he first came to the knowledge of Europeans. The full, fair product of a civilized human being is the result of all possible favoring circumstances of place, op- portunity, and advantage in a long lapse of time. 8ome English essayist has dropped what he woidd call the clever remark, that it takes a hundred years to work up a perfect, smooth, grassy lawn, and three hundred years to breed a lady or a gentleman. After the same manner we may say that it has taken six thousand historic years to produce a race of humanized, civilized, and thoroughly developed men and women ; and that tlie process is not yet complete. It might be argued that, two or three thousand years be- hind us, the refining influences of intelligence and culture i !■ i " THE AVERAGE OF INTELLIGENCE. 91 and high art had carried a classic people beyond our pres- ent stage in one range of civilization : and allowances would also need to be made for arrests and reversionary processes in the advance of a progressive race caused by conquest, by cliange of masters, and by the risks attending emigration to new countries. Yet there is no question but that we overestimate the average of intelligence in the ordinary human stock. We take our standard at too high a level. The mass of men and women, even in a favored and generally advanced community, are not so well fur- nished in mind or wisdom as we assume that they are or ought to be. The '• common sense " which in compliment to the large majority' we suppose to be in possession and use by them, is often missed where we expected to find it. The credulity, the narrowness of view, the facility with which they yield themselves to stark delusions and to appeals to their ignorance and prejudice, often warn us against setting so high as we do the average human intel- ligence. As a general thing we expect and demand too mucli of our fcUow-mcn, seeing that they arc what they are and as they are. The clear-headed and practical sage. Dr. Franklin, observing in one of his long journeys abroad the shiftlessness, thrifllessness, and bungling of a number of persons on whose ways his searching eyes glanced, wrote down this rather caustic remark : " I am persuaded that a very large number of men and women would have got along much better if they had been furnished with a good, respectable instinct — like animals, birds, and insects — in- stead of with the intelligence of which they boast so much, but of which they make so little use." Acute writers who have wrought upon the theme have confessed themselves unable to draw at any point a sharp dividing line, or to define any one single trait, quality, or condition which shall distinguish between a state of civiliza- tion and a state of barbarism or savagery. Our latest science, alike archaeological and speculative, 92 THE INDIAN. HIS ORIGIN, NUMBERS, ETC. II fails to give us positive knowledge about the origin of the red man and his relation to the other races of human beincrs on the other continents. Lack of knowledge stimu- lates guessing and theorizing : for these the range is as free as ever. The theories are so varied and conflicting that one becomes confused and wearied witli them to such a degree as to be impatient of rehearsing them. The favor- ite view of the Protestants, especially of our Puritan an- cestors — in their love of the old Hebrew Scriptures — was that the Indians were the descendants of the ten lost tribes of Israel, whom, Cotton Mather- suggested, Satan miglit have inveigled hither to get tliem away from the tinkle of the gospel bells. It was under the prompting of this idea, which was largely and learnedly argued, that the Puritans quickened their zeal to reclaim and convert the savages. Many ingenious attempts have been made to trace among the Indians usages and institutions akin to those of the Mosaic law. The Frencli Jesuit missionaries, not being especially partial to the Old Testament, did not lay stress on this motive for converting tlie savages. Roger Wil- liams in his day could write, " From Adam and Noah tliat they spring, it is granted on all hands." But all do not grant that now. So free and wild has been the guessing on the origin and kinship of the Indian race, that resem- blances have been alleged to exist, in their crania and fea- tures, with the Tartars, the Celts, the Chinese, Australa- sians, Romans, and Carthaginians. This is truly a large range for aliases^ and an alibi. There is somewhat of the grotesque in the aspect of a European intruder, of another stock, coming from across the sea, meeting the native red men, regarding them as an impertinence or an anomaly, and putting the question, " Who are you ? Where did you come from?" The Indian rightly thought that it was for liim to put and for the white man to answer the query. The Indian regards himself as a perfectly natural person where he is and as he is ; a product and a possessor, not a 'h THE MOUND BUILDERS. 93 I waif nor a " comc-by-chance." Their own account of them- selves was that they were indigenous, — true aborigines. With this now agree the conclusions of wise and judicious authorities. Dr. S. G. Morton, writing of the "Aboriginal Race of North America," says: "Our conclusion, long ago adduced from a patient examination of facts, is, that the American race is essentially separate and peculiar, whether we regard it in its physical, its moral, or its intellectual relations. To us there are no direct or obvious links be- tween the people of the Old World and the New." It is generally admitted that there is more similarity between the Indians over all North America than there is among the inhabitants of Europe. Agassiz regarded it as proved that this is the oldest of the continents. If so, the burden is now shifted to Europeans, Asiatics, and Africans to account for themselves as offspring, wanderers, vagabonds, or exiles. The Mound Builders form the heroes of much ingenious speculation. So far, little has come of it but relics of crude pottery. Loskiel, the Moravian missionary, speaks very lightly of these puzzling relics. Referring to what the Indians told him, of traditions of former more frequent and ferocious wars — some hereditary — among them, he writes : — " The ruins of former towns are still visible, and several mounds of earth show evident proofs that they were raised by men. They were hollow, having an opening at the top, by which the Indians let down their women and children, whenever an enemy approached, and, placing themselves around, defended them vigo^ousl3^ For this purpose they placed a number of stones and blocks on the top of the mound, which they rolled down against the assailants. The killed, in large numbers, were buried in a hole. The antiquity of these graves is known by the large trees upon them." * After the Indians are all gone, we may perhaps be able to tell whence they came. ' History of the Mission of the United Brethren to the Indians of North America, p. 141. 94 THE INDIAN. — HIS ORIGIN, NUMBERS, ETC. t i An equally perplexing and distracting inquiry with that of the origin of the Indians has now become another question, as to the number of them when the country was reached and occupied by Europeans;. Of course, this ques- tion was not intelligently asked by tlie first whites who came here, thougli they ventured, all at random, upon guesses and estimates. Those who entered upon the continent at differ- ent points naturally drew widely contrasted inferences on the subject, according as they encountered what they call *' swarms" of the natives, on island or mainland, or passetl long reaches of territory wholly tenantlcss. It is only within the last dozen years that rigid and ra- tional tests have been applied to the statements and tradi- tions which have found their admission into our histories, as to the probable numbers of the native race on this conti- nent when it was opened to Europeans. Wholly conjectural as the estimates were, the measure of the extravagance or the fancy introduced into them depended upon the range or license indulged in by those who ventured to make them. The admission is now yielded, without exception or qualifi- cation, by all intelligent authorities, that the number of the natives in each of the best-known tribes, and their whole number on the continent at the time of its discovery have been vastly overestimated. All the Spanish chroniclers were mere romancers on this point. The soldier Baron La Hontan was a specimen of the same class among the French. John Smith, of Virginia, who tells us that that country produced pearl, coral, and metallic copper, and that the natives planted and harvested three crops of corn in five months, also multiplies the numbers of the Paraunkeys, to exalt the state of their "emperor" Powhatan. Our own artist, Catlin, allowed his imagination to create some six- teen millions of Indians as once roaming here, when it is more than doubtful if a single million were ever living at the same time on the soil. Hispaniola, or Little Spain, the name given by Columbus ] ORIGINAL INDIAN POPULATION. 95 to the present Hayti, or St. Domingo, has as before stated an area of about thirty thousand square miles, — or more tnan half the area of England and Wales. When first discovered. Las Casas says that it sustained three million Indians; he afterwards sets the number at 1,200,000. The Licentiate Zuazo, however, estimated them at x, 130,000. Li 1508, when Passamonte came, he put them at seventy thousand. The Governor, Diego Columbus, estimated the number at forty thousand. Albuquerque, in 1514, counted them as between thirteen and fourteen thousand. This was a vast deduction from three millions in a score of years. We can give the Spaniards the benefit of our charity in denying their own statement, that in less than forty years they had destroyed fifteen millions of the natives, while we a so dis- trust the story that Montezuma led three million warriors. We know the claim of the Jesuits to have converted nine millions of natives in Mexico, in a score of years, to be a pure fiction. Such random counts as these have no value, inasmuch as the evident exaggeration is characteristic of the extravagant spirit of all the Spanish expectations and accounts of their experience. Tlie practical matter of interest in the estimate of the probable number of Indians on this continent, on the arrival of the Europeans, concerns us as it bears on the current belief, universally held till within a few years, substantially covering these three assumptions : (1) That there was then a vast number of Indians here, to be counted in millions ; (2) That this original population has been steadily and rapidly wasting away ; and (3) That this decay is tlie re- sult of the destroying influence coming from the whites, either in demoralization or by war. These three assum]> tions are now largely, if not universally, discredited. In direct denial of them, it is now affirmed, with evidence offered in proof, that the number of the Indians here was quite below the old estimates ; that there are substantially as many on the continent now as there were on the arrival 9G THE INDIAN. — HIS OUIOIN, NUMBERS, ETC. of the white men ; and that their own habits of life, and internecine feuds, have been as destructive as the influence of the Europeans. In fact, the former overestimates of the numbers in some tribes, and of the aboriginal race, arc now thouglit to have been as wild if not as poetical and vision- ary as tb 5 Indian traditions of their origin and mythical ancestry. In the lack of any accredited facts drawn from anything resembling a census, — and no attempt at such a process was made till after the middle of this century, — we have mainly to rely upon two helpful considerations for estimating the number of the aborigines at any given time on any particular locality. The first is, the effect of their constant warfare among themselves in reducing their num- ber; and, second, the capacity of the soil, its woods and waters, for sustaining a more or less compact population by productive labor on tilled fields, or by the chase. Both these considerations would naturally lead us to infer that there was no such steady increase of population as com- monly occurs in peaceful lie in a civilized and industrious community. We are besides to take into view the fact, well authenticated, that plagues, contagious and epidemical diseases, were frequent and wide in their visitations, and occasionally effected a well-nigh complete extinction of one or more tribes devastated by them. It is significant, that, in every case in which careful and patient research or inquiry have been brought into intelli- gent use in estimating the number of one or more Indian tribes, and of the whole Indian population, previous calcu- lations, guessings, and inferences on the subject have been found to be exaggerations. The only associated groups of tribes with which our acquaintance and knowledge have been continuous from the beginning is the Iroquois, who have been in intiir.ate intercourse with the Dutch, the French, and tlie English for more than two hundred and fifty years. Sir William Johnson, the best informed of all interested in their number, placed it in 1763 at 11,650. We f I AMERKIAN INDIANS AND SCOTCH HIGHLANDERS. 97 W i have no certainty that at any previous time they really ex- ceeded this count, thouixh La Ilontan and others multiplied it almost ten limes. The old Iroquois worn roprc:;c:itcd in 187G-77 by seven thousand in the United States, and the same number in Canada. The number is the same to- day. The so-called, civilized tribes in the Ind'an Terri- tory, as counted in 1809, were 12,395. The Indian Bureau in 1876 numbered them at twenty-one thousand. They have doubled in forty years. The Indians vho have fared the worst in decrease of numbers have been those of Cali- fornia and Oregon. If we seeic in a general view of the mode of life and re- sources of the red men, in some favored localities, to find any radical disadvantage or disablement which put them below all communities of the whites which we call civilized, we can readily convince ourselves of our error by compar- ing the state of our Indians at the time of the settlement of this continent with that of communities of whites in Europe at the same time. Mr. Lecky in the fifth, sixth, and seventh chapters of his " History of England in the Eighteenth Century " condenses from his authorities such a view of the condition of the common people in Ireland and the High- lands of Scotland a century and a half ago, as puts them to a disadvantage, merely as to the means and resources of subsistence, in comparison with North American Indians. The people, wildly ruled in clans, were thieves and cattle- lifters, kidnappers of men and children to be sold as slaves ; they were ferocious barbarians, besotted with the darkest ignorance and the grossest and gloomiest super- stitions ; they scratched the earth with a crooked piece of wood for a plough, and a bush attaclied to the tail of a horse for a harrow, wholly dispensing with a harness; their food was milk and oatmeal mixed with blood drawn from a living cow; their cookery, their cabins were re- voltingly filthy, causing disgusting cutaneous diseases ; they boiled their beef in the hide, roasted fowls in their 7 I IF 98 THE INDIAN. — HIS ORIGIN, NUMBERS, ETC. i feathers, and plucked the wool from the sheep instead of shearing it. The relative position or grade, on the human scale, of any tribe or race of men — much like that of any one man among his fellows — is to be measured by the sum and range of their capacities, and the degree of their self- improvement by the use of means, resources, and appli- ances within their reach. And the capacities of men are also to be estimated by the extent to which they actually avail themselves of these means, appliances, and resources ; finding in native impulse and energy, quickness of wit, restlessness of feeling, the spur of progress ; casting about them for reliefs, helps, betterments of their condition. We classify nations by the direction in which they have trained and advanced one or another of the abilities and aptitudes of our manifold nature. In the Greeks, the direction of it was in artistic, poetic, and philosophic cul- ture, the genius for which is expressed in their wonderful language ; in the Romans, it was an organizing faculty, working in the range of law in all its departments ; in Ger- many, research, scholarship, jurisprudence ; in Italy, aes- thetic, for poetry, painting, and music ; in France, a mix- ture of use and ornament, — the packages in which certain cosmetics, etc., are done up being more ingenious than their contents ; in the English, it is general utilitarianism, with strength, thoroughness, and skill ; in the Irish, it is a cheerful willingness for hi u, patient, laborious, disagree- able work, without mental restlessness. We know how we, especially, are indebted to the faithful toil of the Irish race ; yet I cannot recall a single invention, or discovery in art or science, ever made by an Irishman. If one would have before him a full demonstration of the adroit and acute inventiveness and ingenuity of the Yankee race, let him spend a week or a month — there will be full employ- ment for it — in the Patent Office at Washington, among reapers, thrashers, and winnowers, cotton mules, cooking ■ "M- THE ENDOWMENT OP THE INDIAN. 99 stoves, apple parers and sausage machines, and needle threaders and sewing machines. Now our aborigines present to us these singular con- ditions : having a fine physique, vigor of body, acuteness of senses, few demoralizing habits, good natural under- standings, and living under a stimulating and healthful, not enervating climate, on good soil, they were nevertheless torpid, unaroused, unambitious, idle, listless, incJiirerent to everything but hunting and fighting. Of the metals, fibres, chemical activities all around them they made al- most no use. No step of progress, no sign of betterment, showed itself among them. For all the evidence within our reach attests to us that there was among the savages no token of that discontent or yearning which is the incen- tive to change for the better. In dealing with our whole subject under its successive themes, we shall have many occasions to present the Indian under a variety of characters and aspects. A few general notes of observation may come in here. The fascinating dcscrii)tiou which Columbus wrote to Ferdinand and Isabella of the first savages that came within his view has already been repeated here. Coming to a later time and to a way of judging them which we can better appreciate, we take a sentence from Roger Will- iams, who had as long and close and curious an inter- course with the Indians as any white man, and who had an intelligent and discerning spirit. He wrote thus : " For the temper of the brain in quick apprehensions and discern- ing judgements (to say no more), the most High Sovereign God and Creator hath not made them inferior to Euro- peans." This relates to the higher endowment of the Indian. For his form and grace, his bearing and de- meanor, let us take a few sentences from the enthusiast George Catlin, who lived eight years (1832-1840) with such Indians as we have now, visited forty-eight of their tribes, and painted in oil five hundred canvases of por- \ m- I 100 THE INDIAN. — II13 ORKIIN, NUMnERS, ETC. traits and sconcH ainon-h roasting and maiming, member by member, without draw- ing forth a tear or sigh or groan, or interrui)ting his strain of trium[)hant song. The Huron y(mth wore the tor- mentors. By a hint or order from Madame Frontcmac, a Huron gave the victim a finishing blow with a club, while La Hontan had already turned away from a spectacle which, he says, he had often to witness. There is full truth in the words of Lafitau, that, " when the French and the English have been naturalized among the savages, they adopt readily all that is bad in their manners and customs without taking the good, so as to hecomc viler than they. The savages know very well how to rei)roach us for this ; and the charge is so true that we do not know how to answer them.'' ^ One may easily account for those barViarous traits in the man of the wilderness, which we arc wont to refer to his deprivation of all civilizing influences, by tracing them to the savagism latent in humanity, and which is ever ready to assert itself when the restraints and heli)s of a surround- ing and mastering social oversight are evaded or forgotten. We are familiar with a form of quackery among us, as adopted by resident or travelling })ractitioners, who adver- tise themselves as Indian doctors or doctresses, and who profess to deal with the roots and herbs of the woods. That these sim[)lc natural products furnished to our use have their specific virtues, healthful and curative, common science and experience have fully proved. The essential part of the knowledge and use of these drugs of the field and of the forest very soon becomes the common folk-lore of simple people, as it did in the families of our first white colonists all over the country. And as there are progress and development in all such means and uses, and a finding ^ Mceurs, etc., vol. ii. p. 290. 128 THE INDIAN. — HIS ORIGIN, NUMBERS, ETC. I of now virtues in cvcrytliinff, there may dou>»tlcs8 be re- vealed spccilics, panaceas perhaps, in now neglected roots and herbs. But the aim and lure of qiiacks — white persons or col- ored — who announce a practice after the manner and skill of the Indians, are to induce a belief in some occult knowl- edge or methods about the treatment of disease by simples acquired from the natives. Of course it is well understood that such pretensions are of the very essence of charlatanry, and arc successful only with the ignorant and the credu- lous. But behind these pretences, and as furnishing what- ever ground there may be for them, is a very interesting matter of inquiry ; about which, however, it is not easy to reach a satisfactory conclusion, because our authorities are quite at variance in their statements and opinions. The Indian doctors, conjurers, or medicine-men were called by the French jongleursn, by the English powivows. Hakluyt describes them as " great majicians, great soothsayers, call- ers of divils, priests who servo instead of phisitions and chyrurgions." These native practitioners appear through all our Indian history and in every tribe, including those with which we have most recently been brought into inter- course, under the twofold character of conjuring priests and dispensers of medical agencies. Under cither aspect, if they did not assume, they had ascribed to them, the quality of a supernatural agency. More or less of trickery and of real sanitary skill may have manifested themselves in individuals according to the make-up of each one's icntal or moral composition, or the intelligence and ,/dncss of his constituency of patients. Some of tliese atients in the hands of real conjurers passed through a herculean treatment worse than any known disease. In the mean time the jongleur himself had to submit to the severest drafts upon his own vitality, — his strength of nerve, his powers of self-contortion, his feats of skill, and the strain upon his vocal organs in hideous yellings. It I INDIAN ROOTS AND HERBS. 120 must have ofton boon a wonder that cither the doctor or the patient survived. There are those whose testimony has gone to favor the belief that the Indian doctors, as a class, had really a wonderful natural skill in the treatment of diseases, and especially in surgery ; that they knew and made excellent use of the medicinal properties — emetic, drastic, and pur- gative, tonic and laxative, sudatory, emollient, antiseptic, ana'sfhctic, and antifebrile — of roots and herbs and barks, and that the course and results of their practice would com[)aro favorably with those of our best scientific prac- titioners. Intelligent observers who have known the na- tives well, and have lived with them for years in their wild state, report to us most inconsistently and diversely on this subject. The weight of trustworthy testimony, however, reduces any claim in behalf of the natives for medical skill to a very slender substance, and the large majority of witnesses pronounce the claim absurd and wholly unfounded, while they describe the processes and material of Indian medical practice as monstrous, revolt- ing, fraudulent, and utterly ineffectual, when not abso- lutely mischievous and fatal. In a volume published in 1823, under the title of " Manners and Customs of seve- ral Indian Tribes," — purporting to be written by John D. Hunter, kidnapped from white parents when he was a child, and living among the Indians many years, till he was old enough to make his escape, — we have a most elaborate Materia Medlca, giving us the common and the botanical names of a great variety of roots and herbs, as used by the Indians for specifics. The tribes to whom he ascribes a systematic practice of this sort, — which would do credit, in the main, to the profession among us, — were the Osages and the Kansas. He attri- butes to the Indian practitioners great skill, and to their simples much virtue. There were two marked peculiari- ties among them, which would be novelties to us: first, 9 130 THE INDIAN. — HIS ORIGIN, NUMBERS, ETC. Iff ill the practice was unpaid, wholly gratuitous ; and, second, tlie doctors tried to effect some cures by taking the medi- cines themselves instead of giving them to their patients. Unfortunately, however, the good faith of Mr. Hunter, as an author, is in doubt and question. His personal his- tory and credit are clouded, whatever be the value of his statements. There are, however, authentic statements of real service derived from some simple medical appliances of the na- tives, ^hen Cartier, in his second voyage up the St. Lawrence, in 1535, wintered on the St. Charles, near Que- bec, his forlorn company, buried in ice and snow, Avas nearly reduced to extinction by the scurvy in its most malignant form. Twenty-five of the party perished, and not half-a-dozen were left in health. In his despair of all succor, even from the Virgin and the Saints, an Indian who had recovered from the disease directed his attention to an evergreen, probably tlie spruce, a strong decoction from which had wrought his cure, and the free use of which restored the health of the wretched sufferers. Many of the Jesuit Fathers, in their lone- ly residence with Indian tribes, were withheld by scru- ples from seeking acquaintance or familiarity with the Medicamenta of the Indians. They observed that the Indians were jealous of any such curiosity on their part, and, on the other hand, they were cautious about giving any countenance to Indian charms and super- stitions. Our authorities are equally discordant as to the physi- cal robustness, the general healthfulness, and freedom from many diseases which characterized tho aborigines. The Jesuit Fathers, however, — whose intercourse with the natives was earliest, most extended, most intimate and constant, and who are trustwortliy in sucli state- ments, — repeatedly assert that the Indians were wholly free of many of the most annoying and painful and lin- THE INDIAN IN HEALTH AND DISEASE. 131 )hy8i- (lom incs. with mate itate- lolly ■ lin- gering: maladies visited upon civilized men. As to the affirmation frequently made by them, that they never saw a dwarf, a hunchbaclc, or otherwise deformed or na- tive cripple among the savages, the statement might be parried by the supposition that infants born under such disadvantages miglit not bo allowed to live. Tlie intel- ligent and cautious Lafitau is a good autliority within the wide range of his observation and inquiry. He tells us that the severe bodily exercises of the savages, their travels, and the simplicity of their food exempted them from many of the maladies which attend an easy, indo- lent, and luxurious life, with the use of salt and spices and ragouts, and all the refinements and delicacies that minister to gluttony, tickle the taste, impair the appe- tite, and undermine health. The savages, with light nourishment, hardened by their trampings, though tak- ing little care against the rigorous extremes of heat and cold, are still strong and robust, with a soft skin and pure blood, " less salt and more balsamic than ours." " One does not see among them the deformed from birth ; they are not subject to gout or gravel, to apo- plexy or sudden death ; and perhaps they may not have knowledge of the small-pox, the scurvy, the measles, and most of the other oi)idemic diseases, except through in- tercourse with Europeans." Still, Lalitau says that they are hiunan in their subjection to diseases, and have some especial ones of their own, — such as scrofulous maladies, caused, he says, by the crudity of the waters, and by snow-water. The exposure of their clicsts makes them liable to plithisis, of wliich the most of them die. Many of them rcacli an extreme old age. " I have seen at my mission a sipiaw who had l)elore her children of her chil- dren, down to the fifth generation." * There is abundant and according testimony that the na- tives had great success in the treatment of flesh wounds, ' Mujurs (lea Sauvages, etc., vol. ii. p. 360. 132 THE INDIAN. — HIS ORIGIN, NUMBERS, ETC. . :(' 3 and in some surgical operations. Indeed many competent witnesses assure us that their skill surpassed that of trained practitioners, and instances are given of their successful treatment of desperate cases among the whites, as well as among their own people where the European surgeon had been baffled. This native skill was of high service, as the Indians suffered, in their mode of life, more from wounds, bruises, and fractures than from internal maladies. The purity of their blood and the sim[)licity of their food favored an easy recuperation from injuries, and they took great pains to exclude the air from festering flesh. The signal triumph of native medical skill was in their conceiving and availing themselves of that seemingly para- doxical method of alternation between the extremes of heat and cold in the treatment of a patient which has been adopted by cix . "zed Europeans and Americans, and credited to the Turks. The " sudcrie," the "sweat-box," or the "vapor bath" are the names attached to a method of treatment which, with trifling modifications and adaptations required by dif- ferent circumstances, was the principal sanitary reliance of the natives over this whole continent, with the possible ex- ception of the Esquimaux. In an emergency, an Indian who had recourse to this method'when suffering a malady might serve himself alone. Many who were ytrostratcd and enfeebled by fever or cramped by rheumatism have been known to do this, by drawing on their own energies. It was desirable, how ver, that a patient should have one or more assistants in the treatment. A low hut, lodge, or cabin of bark or skins was constructed near to the water of lake or river. It was made very tight, with no orifice or air-hole save that through which the patient wholly naked crept into it, and which was then closed. Upon heaps of coal and heated stones water was suddenly poured, rapidly generating steam, which penetrated into every pore of the patient, nearly exhausting him into liquidation. In of cx- iaii idv and cell It or or iter (ice .lly poll red, lore la I DISPOSAL OP THE DEAD. 133 this condition he would then rush out, or be carried, to plunge into an icy stream or lake, or to roll in the snow. The operation was repeated, if necessary, on one or more succeeding days. It must have been prevailingly success- ful, or the native philosophy would have discredited and abandoned it. It seems to have been eminently adapted to insure a decisive result, either in killing or curing. If true science can ratify its method, its success or immunity is accounted for. Otherwise we must learn from it an- other lesson as to the capacities of endurance in the human organism. A revolting subject, often brought under discussion and led on to widely contrasted decisions by historians and in- quirers, has kept under debate the question whether that foul scourge, the penalty of sensual vice, now so |)revalent here an'iong the aborigines, was indigenous or introduced by Europeans. It has borne the titles of the French dis- ease, tlie Italian disease, and the Indian disease. It is un- derstood that our most able archaeological investigators have effectually settled the question that the disease had its victims — as is proved by the condition of human bones — on this continent previous to the voyages of Columbus. It is by no moans of universal prevalence among the In- dian tribes, for while some few have been reduced by it to a most distressing condition, others have had no blight from it, or but very limited inflictions from it. The manner in which the natives disposed of their dead, with more or less of sensitiveness and mourning in observ- ances, and of superstition in their beliefs, and a continued regard for the resting-places, would of itself furnisli the subject of an ext( nled essay. Among the various tribes, and in some tribes at different periods, there was much range of diversity in these matters; and as in these regards the ways and feelings, the methods and observances of un- civilized men are very like in their variety and associations to those of civilized men, the subject is not of a character II 134 THE INDIAN. — HIS ORIGIN, NUMBERS, ETC. for particular dealing with it. Our common sympathetic references to the natives of the vanished and the vanishing tribes, attribute to the aborigines a lingering and profound attachment to the burial-places of their ancestors. That this sentiment has been intensely strong in some of the tribes is proved by the fact, that, when either by volun- tary or forced removals they leave their old homes for new ones, they have reverently gathered up the bones of their kindred to be taken with them. The commemorative rites and festivals of some of the tribes draw them to their burial-grounds for lament and song, and to rehearse the achievements of their departed braves. The most ancient of these burial-places afford inviting fields for the explora- tions of the archajologists, though little has been yielded up by them to increase or modify our knowledge or views about the Indian sepulchral rites as ever having been essen- tially different from what they have been in recent times. Burial in upright, or sitting, or recumbent postures in the ground, or a disposal with coverings of skins on trees, scaf- folds, or platforms, or in an old canoe, indicating a pur- pose of removal of the bones ; the placing of weapons, tro- phies, and articles of apparel or food near the defunct ; the marking, protecting, and respecting the resting-place, — are perpetuated among the aborigines now from pre-historic times. The first impression which Europeans received from con- tact and intercourse with the aborigines, and which they reported in their earliest narratives and descriptions, was that they had no religion whatever, — that their minds were a blank on all religious subjects. The French mon- arch came to the conclusion that they had no souls. The epithet "heathen," applied by all Europeans to the Indians, was a term which covered alike the lack of any religion and the belief of any other than a true one. But extended and familiar intercourse soon proved to the Europeans that the natives were by no means withoutwhat served them for i RELIGION OP THE INDIANS. 135 id it a religion, and what filled the place and exercised the pro- found and august power over them wliicli the purest and loftiest form of religion has and effects for the most ad- vanced human being. Whether the sort of religion which the red men were found to have and to recognize were in the white man's view better or worse than no religion, was a matter for difference of opinion. But the red man's heart and tliought were by no means empty or 'mengaged on the spells and mysteries, the shadows and the revcalings, asso- ciated with religion. lie who humbly and devoutly holds wliat represents the very loftiest, purest, and most spiritual form of religion in its tenets, its conceptions, and believings may be grateful if he can intelligently assure himself that any considerable portit of his creed or liope is adequate to the subject of it, — lb free from superstition, credulity, limitation '■'" view, imperfection of tliought. Of those component element.-; of religion wliich awe and enthrall thought, which exercise the imagination, which quicken hopes, which strike dread, and which compel offerings, exercises, and real sacrifices, the Indian unmistakably showed that he was the possessor and the subject. In Eastern realms the monarch or chief was the priest of his tribe or people. It was not so here. The ofiice of priest — magician, sorcerer, as the Europeans regarded it — was here filled by the doctor, the physician for bodily ills. In the idea which underlies this combination of functions, we certainly can find something likely to win our approval. The physician of the body was the minister of sacred rites to t\\Q Indian, and the chief of the tribe was both his pa- tient and disciple. Certainly Christians, remembering the touch of healing and the word of power combined in their Master, must favorably regard the custom among our Indi- ans in uniting the functions of the " powwow," or en- chanter, with those of the medicine-man. True, the incantations and the professional ministrations of the Indian functionary may have been barbarous and 136 THE INDIAN. — HIS ORIGIN, NUMBERS, ETC. ! i 'i i monstrous, — of the essence of quackery, without the con- scious intent of it ; they may even have been as our devout fathers vicNvcd tlicm, — really diabolical : but they were rudely earnest, intensely practical, and substantially sin- cere. " Indian ceremonies," says Major Campion, an in- telligent observer of them, " are not funny, they arc not ridiculous ; they are wild, fierce, and earnest, ofttimes cruel and blood-thirsty. They are semi-religious rites, — not celebrated in a perfunctory way, by a salaried pagan priesthood ; but are the solemn, earnest exercises of grim, determined savages." It is hardly probable that any one in converse with what is left of the .'ndian race and tribes would now say that they were without religion, or that such religion as they have was of harmful rather than of good iuHuenco over them. Their religion is the product of all the elements, conditions, and surroundings of their life. It has its fierce and hideous, and also its gentle and winning, influences over them. We are learning lessons from the contact and comparisons of various religions and of those who profess them, in tlie spirit of contention or harmony, in real or in sham discipleship; and, of tliese lessons recently learned by us, the Indian has the benefit in tolerance and in char- ity. In the closest friendships and intimacies of social and domestic life, under the highest civilization and refinement, we are made to realize that religion furnishes the material for division, alienation, and obstruction of sympathies ; simply because not only its deepest processes, but also its infinite richness of materials for speculation, preference, and fond and clinging vision and trust, are strictly the secrets of each individual breast. The lonely Indian — roaming the woods, occupied with his dreams and fancies, wondering over the panorama of earth and heaven, and facing his lot in life and death — had his " spiritual exer- cises." lie could not impart them, neither could they lightly be trifled with. We have learned that the best CHRISTIANITY AiND HEATHEN RELIGION. 137 id 3r- |ey 1st I i I and most effective part of religion is not that wliich is characteristic and peculiar to one, but tliat wliich is com- mon to them all. The severest trial to which a religion can be subjected is in the effort to displace by it and to substitute it for another. We shall have to recognize, further on, many interesting facts bcarnig upon this point. The excellent and accomplished Lafitau exercised a discernment and a candor in forming and expressing his views upon the re- ligious range, character, intelligence, and susceptibility of the aborigines, in which he was not followed by all of his brethren. lie recognized not only the exceeding dilticulty found in the imperfect vehicle of language, but the more perplexing and embarrassing obstruction offered in the lack of mental furnishing for all the processes of reason- ing and spiritual conception in the savage. It was almost provokingly characteristic of these really irresponsive pu- pils, that, though they would assent sj)ontaneously and as if with full appreciation and approval to some lesson or assertion of their teacher, their minds were utterly desti- tute of any answering idea. They caught no more of meaning from it than they would have ai)i)ropriated from a page of the most abstruse mathematical or algebraical formulas. When, in rare cases, they did apprehend a gleam of sume doctrinal teaching or religious lesson from the missionary which was in direct antagonism with a be- lief or opinion of their own, they could stand on tlie defen- sive and decline what, though it might be very good for the white man's religion, was not suited for the Indian. That was indeed an astounding and appalling announce- ment which tlie missionary made the starting-point of his instruction to them, — that in their natural state they were under the doom of an awful and unending subjection to unutterable woe after this life, and tluit the only relation which the (Jreat Spirit then sustained to them was as wait- ing for their passing from this troubled existence that he ; :^i U ' 138 THE INDIAN. — HIS ORIGIN, NUMBERS, ETC. might visit upon them his wrath forever. Tlic doctrine, if apprcliciidcd at all, was didled in its impres.siun by the amazement which paralyzed their ability really to grasp it. It might have been grimly snbmitted to as relieved by the suggestion — giving the comfort of companionship to misery — that they would share the terrible doom in the fellowship of their own race. And there were many reasons and occa- sions which strongly disposed the red man to long for a wide distance and a com|)lcte severance of associations from the wiiitc man, as well for the unknown hereafter as hero on earth. If in the vigorous intellectual stretch of the rea- soning i)owcrs of some of the more gifted of the savages the hideous doctrine was really brought within the grasp of the understanding, the ability to ponder it would be likely to be accompanied by some keen speculation as to its rea- sonableness, truthfulness, and authority. Thci-e were shrewd and ingenious individuals among those whom the missionaries sought to convert, as the lat- ter have left on record, who very naively took refuge from this and from other unattractive or peri)lexing instruc- tions by insisting that all these lessons and warnings might be very true and good as parts of the white men's religion, who, if they had not a God of their own, had some very peculiar means of knowing things kept secret from the Indian. This ingenious refuge in recognizing and arguing, — as among the many fundamental differences between the white men and the red men, in their knowl- edge, privileges, opportunities, and consequent duties, — that there might well be a very broad distinction between the religions suited to their respective conditions, very often presents itself in related conversations of some of the more acute savages with the missionaries. That the savaircs had a religion of their own — what we call the religion of Nature — would find assurance in the single fact of their irresponsiveness and indocility under any merely dogmatical or doctrinal teachings, apart from THE INDIAN AS A CONVERT. 139 's ;e8 d- My of he he ;le »y )ra such simple ritual aud formal observance as the Roman Catholic priests exacted of them. There were occasions on which gifted and earnest individuals among the na- tives poured out a strain of simple, kindling eloquence in expatiating upon the grand and exalted truths of their own religion, of its special adaptation to themselves and the conditions of their own lives, tlie aspects of earth and sky under which they met the experiences of exist- ence, and the kindly care of Providence for tlicm in sup- plying all their needs through natural products and the services of their humble kindred among the animals. Probably the fact held good in its application in de- grees to all the native tribes under the teaching of the missionaries, which is signally illustrated in the case of the Pueblo Indians of New Mexico ; namely, that while yielding a seemingly ready compliance with the observ- ances rcijuired of them by their priestly teachers, they retained in deeper impressions and with undiminished at- tachment the tenets of their ancestral religion. They cer- tainly do in privacy or fellowship cherish their old rites and festivals in connection with a reverence for fire, for the sun, for periodical recognitions of the seasons in their ancient calendar, and for commemorating the departed generations of their race. Here nature and training, so often in strong antagonism with each other, seem to be brought into liarmonious working together. It is the ut- most result which can be looked for from the most hope- ful teaching of religion to adult savage people. Should not that result, or even approximations to it, be regarded as the reward of wise zeal and effort? CHAPTER III. .THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, AND SURROUNDINGS. ! ;if , We have abundant and trustwortliy means for informing ourselves of the qualities of character, the exterior life, the resources, employments, and j)ractical capacities of the abo- riginal tribes during the whole period since the first com- ing here of Europeans. The interccmrse has always been close and continuous between the races ; and though the relations in which they have stood to each other have been prevailingly hostile, there have been occasional and agree- able exceptions to this rule. As has already been said, though the Indians have a history profoundly interesting, especially in its tragic elements, they have no historian of their own race. The few and quite unsatisfactory speci- mens which we have of their way of telling their own story and fortunes for the record, arc to be gathered from speeches delivered by some of their chiefs, in review of their history, at great councils with the whites; and we have to accept these as they have come through the medium of interpreters more or less intelligent, honest, and qualified for the oflice. Occasionally, too, we have had from whites who, as captives in their early youth, have lived long with the natives and been adopted by them, and also from some of their own youths who have been educated at our schools and colleges, what may serve as the Indian's own way of communicating to us the fortunes and experiences of his race. For the most part, however, — as in the case of the LIMITATIONS OP 8AVAGISM. 141 lied [tea lith Ime lols of ihis the painter and the lion, wliere the artist alone could represent both sides of the contest, — the history of our Indian tribes conies from the pen of their conquerors. For many and obvious reasons ^a have to regret what we must regard as a gap in our literature, caused by the lack of any native contributions to it. As we shall have to note in later pages of this volume, there have been a few master minds, both in reasoning and oratory, among the Indians. From more than one of these wo have evidence of a capacity and acute- iiess of thought exercised upon the comi)arative attractions and advantages of a barbarous or a civilized life ; cogent arguments for the right of Indians to follow their own pre- ferences and habits ; and plaintive laments over the mis- eries and tlie woes inflicted by the white man upon those whom the Divine Being had set in their own free domains, with all that could minister to thoir need and haj)pinesj^. Rousseau was but a tame and artificial pleader for the im- munities and joys of a state of Nature for man, when com- pared with some of these aboriginal specimens of it. Yet we need hardly foel that we lack any information which it is desirable and interesting for us to have con- cerning the habits, mode of life, resources, and experi- ences of our aboriginal tribes. Allowing, too, for the fact already recognized, that our abounding literature on the general subject is composed of contributions from a large variety of writers, in capacity and in principles, who in their intercourse with the natives, having had widely differ- ent relations with them, and widely difTcrent ends in view, have seen and reported them dilTerently, we have all the means for a fidl and fair rejjrescntation of aboriginal life. A state of savagery, however extensive the regions covered by it, and however diverse in local climatic in- fluences and productions parts of it may be, will generally reduce nearly to uniformity the condition e.?id habits of life of those who share it. In civilized lands, countries bordering on each other — neighboring counties, cantons, or 142 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, UKSOURCES, ETC. departments — will exhibit a wonderful variety in the fea- tures, the dialects, the costumes, the domestic usages and the employments of the people. The range for all such diversities is restricted for the life even of ocmi-harljurians. Thei-e seems always to have been, as there is now, far more in common as regards all th.e resources and habits of life among American Indians, certainly in the northern parts of the continent, than there were of local and circum- stantial diversities. We can indeed discern among various tribes, when compared with each other, the effects upon them of greater ease or diOiculty in obtaining sustenance, of more or less of providence in storing up food, of degrees of ferocity in warfare, and evidences of skill, industry, and art spent upon their weapons and utensils. There were those who lived chiefly on maize and roots ; others who gave no labor to the cultivation of the soil, but sub- sisted wholly by the chase; and others still, on the Pacific coast, and upon its vast rivers, whose diet was of the pro- digious supplies of fish, fresh or dried. Of any differences among the savages arising from degrees of mental develop- ment we need to make small account. This uniformity in the resources, methods, and experi- ences of the lives of the savages facilitates such a general account and description of their occupations, habits, and condition as is required for record in our own or in com- ing times. Not that these annals are merely "short and simple," like those of the poor, but that they arc uniform, repeating with slight variations similar narrations and incidents. After all, the savage is best known, understood, and de- scribed by his surroundings. He is the child and companion of Nature, its product and its ^villing subject. The word " savage " is from the root of the beautiful word siha. He is a child and denizen of the woods ; the forest, the lake- shore, the river are his nursery, his playthings, his range for life and joy. When, even from a long and weary jour- i # THE SAVAGE A CHILD OF NATURE. 143 de- lion ford He ^kc- ige )ur- ney, ho can reach a sight of the .salt ocoau, the sight ex- hilarates him, and the odor of the dank kelp invigorates him. Aptly has it hoeu said, — "Man is one world, and hath another to attend him." There is a sympathy and a responsive relation between the senses and the mind of a wild man and the aspects and aptitudes of Nature aroimd him. As man develops his own higher powers. Nature eJiangcs steadily in tliese aspects and aptitudes for him. The savage conforms and adapts himself to Nature. Never does he indulge one fretting thought or feeling about its ways, or move a muscle or effort against it. lie lives in trancjuil subjection to Nature, and dies as her autumn fruits and leaves fail on her bosom. But every stage and step and i)rocess of development for civilization puts man out of harmony and into antagonism with Nature. lie re- sists and thwarts and lights Nature. For his own uses ho changes all natural features and objects, lie clears away the forests, kills its beasts, dams its streams, levels its hills, raises its valleys, blasts its rocks, tunnels its moun- tains. The Indian hears of these doings of the white man, or looks on, amazed, for he does none of them. Respect, or fear, or satisfaction, or indolent acquiescence, disposes him to accord with Nature, oi- to leave her as she is. It is admitted that only civilized and cultivated man ap- preciates grand and beautiful objects, using his mind, soul, and taste to engage with sim[)le senses upon them. The beauty and griindeur and glory of natural scenery — of a horizon notched by mountain tops, of floating clouds with their varying shadows, of the gorgeousness of the tinted foliage — do not appeal to a vacant mind or to a rude sen- sibility. But the savage mind was not a l)lank towards Nature, nor merely in a state of listlessness. As the sav- age was in accord with Nature, ho was in perfect sympathy witli it, and held free intercourse with it. The energy and activity of thought which civilized man gives to brooding and restless questioning and speculation, went with the In- I 144 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. Vii i I dian to feed some forest musings, some s3-lvan imaf^inings, and to furnish him the material of dreams and omens wliich entered into the traditions of his tribe and traced or clouded its history. A large part of the life of a sav- age was in solitariness, and except when he knew himself to be exposed to risks from lurking foes he was never lonely, timid, or suspicious. He relied on his own resources of strength, patience, and security. He could find a suffi- cient couch on the mossy grass, on a heap of green boughs, or in a burrow under the snow. If he did not accpiire the instinct of a beast for scenting water at a distance, he was a skilled observer of all the signs which would aid him to find it. The inclination of the tops of the trees, showing the direction of the prevailing winds, and the thickening of the bark on the north side of them served him for a compass even in the depths of the forest and under a clouded and starless sky. No length of distan<'e or obstacles in a day's tramping oppressed him with a fatigue that did not yield to a night's repose. However dampened and soaked with pro- tracted rains or with wintry snow might be the trees and foliage of his route, he could always gather some fungi, or dry or decayed wood, for lighting a fire. He would mentally divide the spaces of a journey of hundreds of miles into equal parts without the help of any sign-jjost, and would reach his destination or return to his starting-point, as ho had purposed to do, at the rise or the set of the sun. In all this he conformed and adapted himself to the ways and the methods of Nature. The trails through the deep forest were common to him and the beast. The deer and the buffalo made his turnpikes. The Indians took for granted that the earth on which they were born was bound to afford them full sustenance, as it did to the animals, withinit any labor of their own ; except such effort as they spent, like white men, in pas- time, hunting or fishing. Every exertion that had the look of exacting toil was to them unwelcome, menial, and do- THE SAVAGE CONPORMINO TO NATURE. 145 lich Ice, in; bas- |)()k Idc- grading ; they assigned all such work to their squaws, who were their beasts of hurden, who put together the materials of their lodges, fetched wood and water, cooked the food, carried their papjiooses and housihold goods on their shoul- ders, and flayed the beasts of the hunt and cured their skins. The white man as a warrior always had the respect of the savage, but drew only his wonder or contempt when seen in any industrious occupation. Trusting thus in the fostering care of Nature, the Indians were content with its furnished resources or supplies, whether for a moment these were full or scant. They would gorge themselves to repletion, like the beasts, when they had an abiuulance, and would endure with marvellous fortitude the sharp pangs of hunger to the verge of starvation. Doubtless it is to this earthward kinship and com[)liance with Nature in the savage that we arc to ascribe his utter unconsciousness of and indifTerencc to what we call offen- sive and revolting to the senses, — foul odors, uncleanli- ness, filth, vermin, parasites, etc. Regarding himself as akin to the elements, the soil, d the creatures around him, the savage did not recognize what we call dirt. Dirt has been well defined as valuable matter out of {)lace. But the savage did not regard dirt as ever out of place, — whether on his person, his apparel, in his foul lodge, or in his scant utensils and his food. Consequently to hink there was no such tiling as dirt. He wotdd eat with gusto frogs, toads, snakes, and deeomposing animal remains just as he took them from the ground; and his first (hdicious repast from the game which he killed — large or small, beast, fish, or fowl — was from its raw, quivering entrails and its warm 1»lood. The ordinary functions and processes of his organism were exactly like those which he recog- nized in animals : obedience to their impulses and necessi- ties was as unrestrained as was the use of the lungs and the voice in breathing and speaking. The r(>lief of nature was as seendy " "roee.ss us was that of satisfying it : pri- 10 146 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOITRCES, ETC. vacy was not prompted in either case. The crowded wig- wam did not admit of diffidence, modesty, or concealment in exercising the functions of nature. Anything like fas- tidiousness, delicacy, or squcamishness, was not only for- eign to the savage, but was utterly inconceivable and inexplicable to him when exhibited by the white man. The Jesuit Fathers domiciled with the savages, with that exquisite tact and self-control by which they uniformly sought to conciliate and attach to them the subjects of their patient toils, very soon learned to conceal all their anti- pathies and qualms amid the untidiness, the filth, and the indecencies of an Indian wigwam. Suffocated with the vile odors of their surroundings, the vapors of the kettle, and the close-packed humanity ; tormented by vermin, their eyes scorched and l)linded by the smoke, with children and dogs crawling over them by night, — those gentlemen and schol- ars from France adapted themselves to the situation ; to them certainly an unnatural one, though to the natives it presented no annoyance, no discomfort. Occasionally, for a long fixed residence at a mission, the priest would set up a separate cabin for himself. But this was rather that he might have a i)lacc of retirement for study and devotion, than to exhibit his distaste for the domestic life of his disciples. For him there was really no escaping from conformity to Indian manners as regards food and its preparation. lie was limited to their larders, as he carried with him into the wilderness none of the luxuries of civilization ; content only to transport (he materials and symbols of the mass, with paper for his reports to his superiors. The first implements which the savages were most eager to obtain from the whites were hatchets and metal ket- tles. The latter were at once used as substitutes for the vessels of unglazed pottery, or closely woven wicker, or hollowed wooden receptacles, which had previously been in use. Though much of the food of the natives was pre- 4 INDIAN POOD AND COOKERY. 147 eager 11 kct- )r the ler, or been |H pre- pared by being laid upon the coals or roasted on a stake, the larger part of it required to be stewed in heated water. As their own vessels, though often called caldrons, would not bear exposure to the fire or a dry heat, an ingenious alternative was rest)rted to. The clay or wooden vessel was filled with water, into which were thrown stones brought to a glowing heat in a clear fire close at hand. The pro- cess was repeated, if necessary, as the stones were removed and renewed. Into this water were cast the materials of a repast. They were often most incongruous ; for the In- dians delighted in a mess, a pot-pourri, though no skill or regard was spent upon selection or adaptation to the palate. In a banipiet prepared by savage allies of the Eng- lish after a bloody and protracted conflict with the French and thoir red allies, some of the English soldiers, though well-nigh famished, lost their craving at the sight of a Frenchman's hand lloating in the stew. The conglomera- tion of heterogeneous articles of food in the Indian's kettle was simply another act of conformity witii Nature ; as not what they ate, but the eating enough of anything, was their chief object, and it was the stomach, not the palate, which they had to satisfy. It is curious to note that down to quite recent years in New England, in the families of husbandmen, domestic asage approximated to this Indian habit, — vegetables, pastry, and meat (fresh or salt) being cooked in one kettle, served on one great platter, and dis- pensed after the same miscellaneous fashion. At their great feasts, with a profusion of viands which miirht have served the Indians for successive distinct courses, the same medley method for cooking in caldrons all maimer of fish, flesh, and fowls, dogs, deer's meat, buffalo, skunks, raccoons, etc., with maize, and various roots, pumpkins, S(|uashes, beans, and peas, was the api>roved style of festivity, with variations more from necessity than of preference. CJene- rally the family had but one meal in common through the day. But each member of it was at liberty to eat when ^1 ^ i 148 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC, and as often and as much as he pleased, if there was any- thing left in the larder. Often a hungry sleeper would rise at night to satisfy his craving. The chance stroller or guest was always made welcome to what the lodge con- tained, and was first served. When the ears of Indian corn were in the milk they afforded a rich repast, either as eaten from the stalk or roasted before an extemporized fire. As the natives did not use salt, cither at their meals or in preserving meats or fish, they availed tiiemselves of the sun's heat, the ai" and fire, to dry any surj)lu8 of such food gathered when it was abundant among them. Some of the abounding salts of the prairies have impurities which impair their preservative qualities. Often, however, as the natives were generally improvident, or, still in con- formity with Nature, trusted that each day would provide for itself as to "what they should eat," they were reduced to extreme need. They bore the pangs of lumgor with stiff, uncomplaining patience and philosophy, passing many nights and days without sustenance. In their utmost straits they would eat roots, bark, buds, and the skins of their own mantles and moccasons. In the western valleys Nature produced in luxuriant abundance a large variety of succulent and edible roots, and expanses of wild rice. As a last resort, reliance might be placed upon the somewhat stingy nutrition found in what is known as tripe de roche^ — a sort of mossy mushroom which covers some of tlic damp rocks. When this was cooked with scraps of any kiiul of meat, or marrow bones, it was quite satisfying. Their own dogs, and in times of famine their ponies, arc essential parts of the banciuets of the Indians. In the matter of ajjparel the Indian i)ut liimseif into the same harmony with the promptings of Nature. lie wore clothing, not as a covering or concealment, but for convenience, comfort, and necessity under the weather. Ho felt most at his ease when wliolly free of it ; nor was INDIAN COSTUME AND DWELLING. 149 into He for til or. was it from tlie want of abundant materials needing but slight lielp from hand-labor. The hide of the buffalo, and the skins of the doer, the beaver, and the smaller animals fur- nished him with loose or with close-fitting mantles. Ills feet and logs needed protection while he was tramping over rocks or through the bushes with their prongs and briers. Not till i-eaching years of maturity were the children of either sex subjected to the incumbrances of clothing; and in general the breech-cloth for men and a half-skirt for ■^/omon served for all except state occasions. The more elaborate garments now seen among the aborigines owe more or less of their skill and ornaments to materials ob- tained from the whites, such as needles, beads, cords, silks, and bits of metal, though the liulian was by no means stinted in his own resources for a gala day. His well- dressed robes, soft and pliable, cured and tanned with or without the fur, wrought with porcu|)ine (piills and the feathers of birds, and his necklaces of bears' claws, the plumage of the eagle, and other devices, set him off in good forest guise. For extra adornment, or to add to his fierceness in some of his games, festivals, war, or scalp dances, he would add to his array, besides paint, the horns or the skins of the heads of some of his relations, — the bison, the bear, the deer, or the owl. The aborigines, whether sedentary or roving, constructed their abodes for single families — wigwams, tepees, or lodges — by natural rules and for natural uses. They might have learned their art from the beaver. Wiiere anything of lengthened or permanent habitation was looked for, more of solidity and thorouglmess was given to them. Barks or skins, according to the abundance or ease with which they were to be procured, servcnl ecpuiUy well for the fabric. A few poles, planted as stakes in the circumfereiu;e of a circle, brought together at the top, with an orifice for the smoke, a hole in the centre for the fire, bunks raised on bushes or skins, and a i)latform or shelf for storing im- r 150 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. plemcnts or superfluities, answered all necessities. Gene- rally the men gathered the materials while the squaws put them together. When these lodges were numerous they were sometimes arranged as in lanes, and surrounded with palisadoes. On removing from one place to another, if the materials of the lodge were worth the labor, or were not to be readily replaced, the squaws bore the burden of their parts. What they could not carry on their shoulders they attached at the further end of some of the poles, coulining the other end to their waists, while they dragged the skins and utensils. Where the Indians now have ponies they use this style of an extemjjorized barrow. An indispensable article of the outfit of every male In- dian is what is known by the whites as the "medicine-bag." This cherished possession has an intimate connection with the superstitions of the aborigines, reference to which will soon be made. To the eye of an indifferent observer this "•medicine-bag" serves the use of a pocket or a satchel, to receive certain light articles of use and convenience on an emergency. It is much more than that to an Indian. The term " medicine," as current among the natives through the continent, in its equivalents in all their languages and dialects, carries with it all the associations which the word has for civilized people, and far more mysterious ones be- side. The treatment of disease by the conjurers, jongleurs, or " pow-wows" among the natives, as has been before noted, is believed to be more or less of a magical art. So, every process and means connected with it is associated for the Indian with some (piality of mystery and charm. " Medi- cine," therefore, becomes to them a term mixed with re- ligious, superstitious, and marvellous significance. Every object that startles them by its ingenuity, its show of skill, its wonderful properties, — like a burning-glass, a watch, a clock, a com[)ass, or a bell, as well as any drug, — is to them " medicine." The carefully guarded and cherished receptacle, always THE MEDICINE-BAO. 151 jealously watched over by its owner, which the whites and the Indians now alike called the " medic ine-ba<5," combines all the (jualities of a Jewish phylactery, a New Zealander's fetich, and the amulet or charm of a superstitious devotee. The " bag" is generally made in the form of a pouch, of the skin of some small animal, carefully j)repared, and its con- tents are the secrets of its owner. AuKjng these contents may be the usual miscellaneous articles of a pocket ; with scraps of tobacco, the pipe, and the materials for kindling a lire. Hut the sacred thing in the receptacle is some scrap or relic — it may be a tooth, a bone, a claw, a stone, or some rude device with the totem or tribal designation of the owner — which is to him as a protecting amulet, a medium of prayer or worship, connected with his jjrivate supersti- tions or dreams. The Indian communes with this njyste- rious synjl)()l when alone: he trusts to its i)rotection on a journey and in emergenci(!S, and he clings to it in all the frenzies of the battle. To lose tills special treasure of his "medicine-l)ag" would cause to its owner inexpressible and overwhenning sorrow and disiuiiy ; he would apprehend all possil)le calamities as likely to befall him. Souh.tiraes when the whites have pri(!d into these secret bags, the con- tents have been found hideous and disgusting. To the owner they are his most sacred possession. Not more fondly and devoutly diil the Spanish marauder cling to his anudet of the Holy Virgin, than did the savage \o this guardian of his spirit. The concentrated and "sharpened use of a few of the mental faculties threw the wliole force of mind of an In- dian into the directions most engaged in the restricted exigencies of his condition. He had less v(dume and less range of mind tiuvn a civilized man, but more sagacity, skill, and directness in the use of what he i)ossesse(l, — us a man deprived of one or more of his senses stimulates those left to him. It was soon noticed, however, that the white man, with a larger active-fund and capital of brain thai: the 152 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. ' \ ft ! M .'1 m savage, after a chance to learn his ways, could far more easily apjiropriate the keen and sairacious qualities of the Indian than the Indian could avail himself of the culti- vated and expanded faculties and injjfcnuities of the pale- face. The P]uropean would not at first trust himself in the woods without a compass. The Indian des[)ised the contemjjtible little index. But the white man was not long in acquiring the Indian's craft in all forest weather-signs and trail-marks. General Braddock allowed whole ranks and files of orderly marching English soldiers to he picked off one by one l)y ambushed Indians, skulking in the bushes of a ravine. But the white man soon learned how to do this bush-fightiug behind tree or stump; and as the Indian, seeing the flash of the rifle, if not struck by the ball, would instantly rush upon his victim before he could reload, the white man would have a substitute by his side, or two guns. Doubtless there has been some exaggeration in the pic- turesque and fanciful relations of the almost jireternatural skill and cunning of the Indian, when with all his faculties alive and strained, in caution or suspicion, he exhibits a craft in the woods, on the trail, or in circumventing his enemies, Iteyond anything of the same kind whicli the white man can attain by ingenuity and practice. In the woods, amid decaying leaves, on the moss or the grass, or on the lichen of the rocks, the Indian will detect the marks of any feet that have passed over it. He will divine whether the marks are recent, or the number of days which have elapsed sin(^e they were pressed, the numl)er of the com- pany, and the direction and sometimes the object of their course. True, the same skill in detection is offset by the same ingenuity in concealment or deception. Sometimes the moccasons or shoes of one or more skulking persons will be reversed on the feet as if to mislead the [airsuer in his search. Sometimes a single person will multiply his own foot-prints, or a portion of a party will carry others on ' THE WATER-WAYS OP THE CONTINENT. 153 pic- [tiiral Ities ts a hite ods, the i of her ave oin- leir the nc8 )n8 in his on ■J their backs, or a water-course will be forded at an angle to throw the pursuer off the track. The game is a keen one wiien those on both sides are well matched. And how fitted for his uses and his accordance and sym- j)athy with Nature were the surroundings and conditions of the Indian's life ! This magnificent domain of earth, water, and sky was his. Here was no desert; seldom a spot inhospitable to an Indian so far as to forbid at least his passage through it. The lake-surface of our own Northwest, with its bordcrings, is of larger area than the whole European continent. We take in hand one of the latest ma|)S of the United States, that wc may trace the course and linkings of its railways. By sections, in the brains of single Indians, and as a whole among their various tribes, there once existed, without map or draft, quite another but as complete and accurate a delineation of previous thoroughfares all over this continent, in its length and breadth, and (juitc as well suited to previous uses as are our iron highways. The maps which we have now, covering our whole national domain, have been provided at Government expense, as the reachings out of power and enterprise have made necessary. They are the lesults of patient and laborious cxjdoration with the help of skilled engineers. Take one of those maps, leave all the land sur- face in blank to represent the original condition of things, and vou will have a reticulated system of threading nerves, fibrous and ganglionic, of the lakes and water-courses, which .seem to have been disposed as streams and basins respectively to renew and interchange their waters in vigo- rous and healthful circulation. The waters are generally clear and i)ure, save as the swelling freshets of the spring tear away the rich mould of their shores and tangle them with huge uprooted trees. One of the main rivers gathers contributions it may be from hundreds of different rills and streams, just as, by a reversed process, a branch of a ma- jestic tree, standing isolated from a forest which might 1 li i ■ 154 THE INDIAN IN III3 CONDITION, RESOURCEa, ETC. cramp it, sends its sap into boughs and twigs, and through thorn into each leaf. When the smooth downward flow of one of those streams was broken by falls the Indian would boldly shoot them, unless the water was shallow or the rocks were too many and rugged. The lakes, ranging fnmi inland seas to ponds, are fed by trickling streams, rivulets, and brooks, jiouring in their con- tributions it may I > fi-om throe points of the compass, and they hnd their o by rivers running to the fourth point. The mouth of e »er leads it into another larger stream, whose tributaries connect another series of lakes and brooks and rivulets. The portages, or carrying-places between these water-courses, nuiy be only a few rods for land-travel; very rarely do they stretch to a half score of miles. The sedgy, reody swamps, the cascades and catarac^ts nuist also be circumvented by jH)rtages. Study carefully one of those skeleton maps of this vast continent, giving only these expanses of water and the broad and attenuated streams, as you would a town or State map showing the highways of the country: you will marvel at the grandeur, the beauty, the ingenuity, and, in these practical days we nmst add, the convenience of the arrangement. The white uuin soon learned to follow these water-highways for curiosity or tradic ; but ho made first rude and then improved drafts of them on paper for those who should follow him. The red men carried in their heads and minds all this elab(U'ate reticulation of our continent ; and so they trav- ersed it by land and wuter, when they had occasion to do so, for thousands of miles, with but trifling deflexions from a straight course. Just as our railroads have their junc- tions and their branches, so the water-highways of the In- dian afforded nuiny central stations, with a large liberty for diverting the course. One of the most remarkable of these water-basins for extent of communication is Lake Winni- peg in the Northwest, 270 milos in length, and 80 in its broadest width. It is fed by almost inimmerable streams, i WATER niOHWAYS OP THE CONTINENT. l£ft 8omo of them quite large, and is the source of as many more that How from it. Its central |K>8ition on the conti- nent makes it, as it were, a grand junction for routes to the Atlantic and the Pacific. Kvery bend in a stream, every widening or contracting of the channel, every Imy of a lake, every swamp, hillock, grove, or barren spot, had a name ke|)t in use by successive voyag«M*s. When the giithcrings of furs or game, or other spoils of the woods, exceeded the capacity of the canoe, the surplus would l)e ccmnnitted to a cachet carefully prepared in the rocks or the earth, secured from the beasts, and so skilfully indicated in its exact locality for the eye of the ow^uer that he was never at fault to find it on his return way, or to direct another to the depositary. Where there was no fear of an enemy, the voyager would bring his canoe to land at nigiit, draw it upon Ix'ach or shore, turn it over him for a roof in foul weather, prepare his evening meal generally from extemporized resources, and start afresh in the early hours of the morrow. Though for many purposes of hunting and trapping partn<>rsliip was desirable, many an Indian in his solitary way would be al)scnt for months from hi* lodge on his |)rivate business. What jmre poetry or stern prose, of adventure or peril as we may view it, invested tiie life of the Indian in his converse with Nature, as he threaded these watercourses, — having for his guiding compass, sure and unerring for his way, his own wilderness instinct! Whole stretches of the native forest olTered scarce any obstruction as ho threaded his course alone, — or in companies marched, as we say, in Indian (ile over the crispy or velvet moss. IJut he would have to climlt at times over the prostrate giant trunks, in which he would sink gently up to the waist in the red mould of sweet decay. Where storms and tempests luid swept over the scene, two or three score trees might have fallen to each survivor that rose in majesty over them. And then what delicious ministrations there were to a creature so largely organized for simple scnsa- I 1 I t in 156 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, EfC. tioiis, ill his (UMirse by day and his couch of moss or hem- lock by nijrlit! The drauj^ht from the cold,|)uro spriiifi;; the juicy IxTiT, the jrrupe cluster, tlic extemporized meal from the name brouf^ht down by his arrow or taken in his snare; the fnij!:rance of that mysterious earth-smell in the spring- time, after the seentlessness of the forest in winter ; the mingling of the damp ooze from the decay of leaves and mossy trunks with the sweet bloom of swelling buds, — these were the luxuries of the wilderness. The Indian, in the lack of help from any artificial edu- cational procc^sses, gathered his wood-craft and his skill from two sources. Ilis main reliance was ever on his own individual observation, the training of his own senses, the iucreiusing and improving of his own personal expe- rience. Beyond this he was helped in anticipating such accjuisitions, or in extending his knowledge, by the free communication from his elders <»f facts and phenomena beyond his immediate ken. While hours of listless in- dolence, of sleep, or dull taciturnity might |)ass among a group, or in the lodge, or the open camp, there were fre- quent occasions for free and lively gossip, for relations of exjicrience and adventure, and for keeping alive tradition- ary lore by renewed rej)etition. It was in this way that the legends of the triljes were transmitted ; and these doubtless had for those most interested in them a signili- cance and dignity which we try in vain to find in such fragmentary and trivial relations as have come to us. The natural and the sui)ernatural made for the Indian one con- tinuous, blend;er merely hy signs, without lan- guage the face and features of a region ; its growths and its game; its hills and valleys; its rivers, swamps, lakes, and mountains; its water-ways and its portages. Adapting themselves to the slow wits of tlu; white man, who needed illustrative help for guidance, thciy would take a piece of bark, anristi(! than those in use among civilized people. Nature, its aspects and objects, were drawn upon by the red men for names of groups and individuals, often with admiraltle aptness. Th(»s(! names of theirs have in many cases become vidgarized to us, as gro- tes(iue and disagreealile ; for the most part, however, tluiy are simply meauirigless, frairments of a wild jariron. Not so with those who bon; them. Tin; name assigne(l to a child was given in view of some trait or feature in him which suggest(>d a natural scene or obj(>ct, or institu'tivo prompting; or it had reference to some quality whi(di it was hoped he might develop, or in which he was to bo traineil. We all recognize t\w appropriateness of the des- ignation, made familiar io us by Walter Scott, l)y which a clan in a |)ecidiarly ft)ggy region of the Highlands were kncjwn as "(,'hildren of the Mist." So in every feature of a natural landscape, — mountain, hill, meadow, valley, RELATIONSHIP TO ANIMALS. 159 prove, forest, swamp, river, brook, torrent, or bog, nnd niso in every animal, l»ir(l, insect, or reptile; In the instru- ments of war and ai the chase; in all fruits and products, branches, twitrs, and leaves ; in rain, hiiow, fojr, lij,ditniiicr, and thunder; in the sun, in the phases of the moon, and in th'j starry constellations, — the Indian found his vocabu- lary for names. This method helped their memories, and also .served as a sort of index of ("haracters. Custom and privilej^e always allowed to the younir Indian the rijjht to change! his name as he grew to maturity ; to take the title by whi(di he would be knf>wn as a brave from any exploit, achievement, or aim which he could asso(;iate with him- self. Nttthiuir in these names indicated parentage or fam- ily r(.'lationship ; nor does there appear to have been any rult! of gender in their use which restricted them respec- tively to males or females. The renderings wImcIi are given (»f them seem to have more signilicance as inter- preted in the French than in the Kuglish language. The observing and rellectiug powers of the Indians were trained to remarkabh; concent ration and aeuteiu'ss, as they were exercised upon natural ol»jects, signs, and phe- nomena. They were skilleil in all weather signs; so they valued least of all, among the white man's trinkets and gewgaws, the pock<-t compass, for they had a better in their nativ(» sairacity. They marke sym|iathetic relation into which an Indian put himself with Nature, was th(5 conse(pient relation into which ho put himself with tin; animal creation. All wild creatures had .some tic of kin- ship to him. Heavers and bears especially wen; a sort of cousius-german. He shared the terms, conditions, and means of life with aninmls, being in some things only \ ! ( 1 i '. t' i' inO THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOUICEa, ETC. thrir su|M'rior. Tlio hravor worked mucli Imrdor than the Iiuli;in, lor he had to hiiild a dam as well as a lod}?o, and to jL'naw (h)\vn trees, and (sarry nind for mortar ; and tlic beaver's Iodide was -leaidier than the red man's, and well stocked lor wiirter's food. The Indian was content to live on food simihir to the animal's, and to get it in a simihir way, — hy streni^th ov gnile. He was content to learn his l)est practical wisdom from animals, and then to outwit them from tlicir free tea<']iing l»y exercising a keener fnculty of his own. His knowledge of tlieir hal)- its and instincts, gathered from patient, watchful study aiul keen observation, surpassed that which wo can get from tlic most accurate and interesting hooks on natural hist«)ry. And when the Indian had made himself an adept in all the shifts aiul devices and a!l the sly and 8ul»tlc artilices of animals, in self-protection, or to hide their holes or to cover their tracks, he had only to exor- cise a little more cunning in his trick to circumvent them. He was housed and fed iind cIoIIkhI precisely aa were these animals ; and, like them, he was often gorged hy food or pinehi'tl by starvation. And while the Indian kninv his own way hy forest, lake, and river, h(> was careful to mark it, for reference for others, l)y naming every feature and oiijeet of it. Ho had a name for every region aiul for each part of it; for every rill and spring, every summit, swamp, meadow, waterfall, bay, and promontory. The most intelligent ex- plorers among us have often remarkecl upon the ex(piisite taste and litn(\ss of the names which the Indians attached to «'very spot and s<'eue of the country, — as Athabasca, "the Meeting-place of .Many Waters;" Minnelinha, "Laugh- ing Waters;" .Minnesota, "Sky-tinted Water." Often has tho regret been strongly expressed over all parts of our country that there has not been more of ef- fort, pains, and consent to preserve more extensively tho aboriginal mimes of localities, of rivers, lakes moiuitains. AilOmOINAL NAMES OP PLACES. 161 forest, oronoo t. llo it; for iciulow, nt ox- (juisito tufluMl iil)as(Mi, Luugli- vcr all of of- >ly the IntaiuH, and cataracts, of hill-tops, srlons, and valleys, tliroii<;h tho continent. Wiierever this has h(!en done it is a matter of grati(i(!ation to the taste and sentiment of onr day. Of tho six New Kn,u;land States, only two — Massachnsctts and Connecticnt — bear their orijrinal titles. The new States and Teriitories of tho West, and some of our grandest rivers and lakes, are favored in this respect. Most fitly do some of the scenes richly wronj^ht into the romantic stories of French missionaries and explorers — Manpiette, Allouez, Hennepin, La Salle, and otluTS — Hitain their memories. The greatest of onr cataracts per- petuates, in the roar of its waters, tlie sonorous melody of its ahorigiual name. It is to he regretted, however, that as it was on St. Anthony's day that Ifenni'pin dis- covered the W(5stern «'ascade, he should have displaced for tluit title the Indian name of the ''Falling Wati-rs of tho Missis.si[>pi." Worse yet was tho rejection of tho Iteaiitifid name Iloricon,' Ijorno hy the fairest of our lakes, allowed to do honor to an Knglisli king ((Jeorgc). it may he that, uiuler some ffsthelic enthusiasm assert- ing itself among us, there may he a general consent to restore the Indian nomenclature over our comitry for me- morial or penitential purposes. Mount Desert wivs onco " Pemetie." Another very curious and interesting token of tlie rela- tions into which the Indians put themselves with tho ani- mals, as their kindred, if not their Darwinian progenitors, is found in their choice of symbols from the creatures with which they were familiar, as tho toti'ma, or hadge-marks, of tlieir tril)e8 and families. At first sight these totem- ' Mr. Parkiimn, in liis ".U-snlts in N'mtli Aint'iiiii" (p. 'Jl!>), givos lis nii intorcHtiiiR inttc uii llic niiginii] nnnic of l.akt' (Jforni', wliitli, he siivh, wns not llniicoji, — tlint word bciiifj tmrcly ii niisjirint on nn oM I.ntiii ni.ipfor " Hori- roni;" timf is, " Iidconi," or " IroipioiH." Tlio flrst of Kur())H'niiH wlio siiw tho lake wan Fatlicr .fo^jiics, in liMrt, wlio caUi'iI it " I.a(' St. Hacrunifiit," from Ihft iliiy in IiIh nili'iidiir wlicii ho htOirld it. Mr. riirkiimn nayn tliut Coopnr had no Mufncirnt htiitorii-al fuiiiithitiun fur tho naiiit; " ilurii'oii." 11 ■ Ij I • i t I 1 162 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, HESOURCFS, ETC. marks scoin to us simply nn element of rudc!, natunil bar- barism : but they mean more to us the more elosely wo study them. And (here is another thing to be said about them; for there is an albnity, strange and unexplained, between these forest totem-symbols and some of the proud escutcheon-bearings of monarchs and nobles, states and eirjpires, in the old civilized world. A simple prejudice or habit of association of <»ur own makes us ridicule in the Bavage what awes or Jlatters us among white men. The totems of the Indian tribes were the bear, the beaver, tlic wolf, the tortoise, the sijuirrel, etc. The emljlems were generally — not always, however — rudely sketcihed and gro- tesque. Hut the design and purpose of them were nuity might find more countenance. lnde<'d, the roguish ami waggish La llontan — who so scandalized the Krcnch .lesuits by his awful truth-telling that he has been unfairly de|>reciatcd, though doubtless often sagacious and tiustworthy — heads a chapter of his racy volumes on French (Janada with the ti- tle, " The Heraldry, or the Coats of Arms, of the Savages." This he illustrates with lively etchings of tribal symlxtls, — the beaver, the wolf, fhe bear, etc., so tilting to wilderness and forest men. The " coat of arms" (»f the kings of Mex- ico was an eagle griping in his talons a jaguar. It was a pity that they could not have put life into the emblem in their treatment of their Spanish tormentors. In the ingenuity that has been spent in tracing tokens of a former relationship between the people of the Old TUK INDIAN IN PULL DBES8. 103 !s and lit lind isli liti by his ciati'd, - heads thcli- v;i-- niti(ni has boon made of the ufliuity between totems und coats of arms. Sonu'thinir similar is to be said about the costume, the ceremonial adornment, the frot-up finery and ornaments, of the red man. Here he exhibits some strange imitations, approximations at least to those of the white man. True, the costume of the Indian was for the most part simply that with which he came into the world. Hut here ajrain we lind an accord with Nature. The Indian, as aln^ady noted, did not ^o naked because he could not procure clothinjr, but because he preferred freedom of limb and motion. As has been said, he had but a scant sens(! of shame, modesty, or decency ; he took himself as Nature had made him. If he wanted coverinj; — as he did and had — in the winter, hv, hud but to transfer the skins of his brother animals to his own shoulders, often naively apolo- gizintr to the animals for doiii}^ so. At times he would smear his body with clay or paint, to ward olY heat, cold, and insects. There seems a lontr distance between their forest garb on state occasions and the trold, the lace, and brocades of court pa^'eantry. iSut let us look a little closer at tlie mat- ter, and tMiiupanj aims and the means for reachiiii; them. The Indians sometimes, no doubt, wished to appear (ine and grand, like other pe(»ple. They availed themselves of such ortumK-nts and trinkets as they could gcit. They had not our range of commerce for stulTs, shawls, laces, ostrich fciitbers, jewels, etc.; they had not access to our shops and modistes; l»ut they did tlu' best they could. The deer- skin, the legirings, tlu; pouch, were richly dressed and em- broidered with nhclls, librous roots, and porcupine (piills: they mounted the feather und the plume, and had for car- rings and necklaces the bear's claw and the snake's rattle. But few of them borecl the cartilage of the nose for a pen- dant. The young and the old sijuaws, when coming into hi :( 104 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. ur j?rn('ofiilly rotiriii;? from socioty, had but a llmitod ran^o ('oiiipiircd with our hulios lor the choice of cosmetics; Ijut they turned to account such as were within reach, — bears' grease and vermilion. They were content with tiie liair that grew on their own heads, and they wholly dispensed with corsets and paddings. Their parade in strange fea- tlicrs and skins with hanging tails, their boring of tho nose sometimes, as well as generally the cars, for rings, and their nuignilocjuent titles and stately forms appear grotes(iU(,' to us. Hut how very much in such mattiM's depends upon association and use ! Do not the curious garb and ever-chimging and sometimes unattrac^tive and uncomfortable fashions and ornaments of women, in tho most relhied circles of life, furnish matter of fun and rail- lery — not always in secret — for the other sc.\ ? In this country, in all our public ceremonials, inaugurations, etc., we have found it possible to dispense with crowns, sceptres, maces, and s' wigs and nil liveri(!s. But foreign courts and shows and forms retain them all as essential or expeflient; they go with the grillins and vampires and plueui.xes of the Old World still. Foreigners in attendiincc among us on great state occasions, like tho inangin-ation of a President of tho nation, are often dis- agreeably impressed with th(> entire disuse of the eostum(>s and emblems familiar to them at home. Our Imlians also did (he best they could, with their orders of the colhir, tho fleece, and the garter. The slash(Ml doul)lets of cavaliers, the hooped or trailed skirt of the lady and her face patihed with court-plaster, the ermine of the judge, the curled \\ig of the barrister, the rod of the tipstaff and the beadle, the sword of state and the black or whit(! wand of the master of ceremonies, the woolsack and s(>al-wall('t of the chancellor and tin- staff of tluMlrum-major, — all manifest the richer and more abundant mat(>rial for farce and cere- monial uf the white man, not a more elevated and ennobled nature. Ii THE INDIAN CANOK. 166 And as for high-soundiuj? titles, where among our abo- rigines sliall wc outniat(;li those of "August," or "Most Christian Majesty," and their "High Mightinesses" of Hol- land ? What elTrontery would be shown by a European tradesman wiio should presume to dun u Continental petty prinee, whose title is " His Most Serene Highness" ! What more of significance is there in the Kniperor of China as- suming his title from the whoh; heaven, than in the Indian ehieftaiirs contenting himself with appro[u-iating a half- moon 'i The Canoe, the Mo(!eason, the Snow-Shoe, aiul the Wig- wam, — these four words snggest to us the most charac- teristic and distinctive objects identified with the Indian and his iil'e. Thi-y mark the (piality of his inventiveness and the measure of his skill in adapting himself to his con- ditions, and in turning to use the nuiterials at his hand. Stress, too, is to he laid on this fact, — that these four de- vices of the Anutrican savage were original inventions of his 'wn, and that he has learne(| nothing from the white '•''•h has helped him to im[trove upon them, so per- fci v- i.o'V in themselves. What the horse is to the Aralt, the dog to the Kstpn- nuiux, and the camel to the traveller across the desert, the cantu' was and is to the Indian. It was most admirably adapted to the two retpiisite uses which it nnist servo,— for it was to meet two exigencies, and in no other ease of a vehicle invented by man have the two conditions been realized. The canoes was intended lioth for carrying its owner and for being carried by him. Iiu-identally, also, it servi'd a third use, affording a temporary roof or covert from the sun and storm i>y day or night on land. The In- dian ventured far out into the open water of our bays, as lie ventiu'cd in calm weather to cross our sea-like lakes in this frail bark. lUit its chief and constant and most apt service; was for the Indian's transport with his fin-s and conuuoditics, as he traversed the curiously veined and ro- ' 1 5 ! 166 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. ticulatod region which lias boon described as the wonder- ful foiitiire of our continent. The proportion which tho wuter-wiiys bore to huul-travel for the routes whicli tiie Inthiin traversed, was at least nine parts out of ten. The hik(vshore was skirted, tiie swamp was cunningly threaded, the river channel was boldly followed, the rapids were shot and leaped, and the mazy stream of shallows and sand-bars was patiently traced in all its sinuosities by the frail skill'. True, the Indian canoe seemed to need an Indian for its most facile use and its safest guidance. The best position for the occuj)ant was to lie flat on his back if he trusted to (ioatiug, or to rest still on bended knees if he j)lied tho sin ,.o pad i)irch canoe; and the Jesuit missionaries, the most patient and heroic of all Europeans as they met every cross and har(lshi|), were very slowly wonted to it. They give us many |)iteous narrative toudies of the constant risks and the need of a steady eye and of a stitT uniformity of jjosition in the buoyant but tick- lish vehicle of transport. When they had in it their own pretiions sacramental vessels, they nifcded an ever n n-vous watchfulness against disaster. Till the passengers had learned to adapt themselves to the exacting conditions, their timidity and anxiety fin-nished a constant source of ridicule and banter to their native pilots. The merriment was loud and unsympathizing when the j)assenger tipped himself in- to the waters, still or foaming, unless at the sanu; time ho swamped the canoe with a valuable cargo. Yet when tho us(>s and the craft needed for them were fully appreciated and acquinid by French voyageum, the canoe in their hands became a more favorite and facile thing than it was to tho THE DIRCHEN BARK. 167 ition to ) Jesuit opoiins Hlowly ouuJios y(5 iuid It tiok- ir own M'VOUS •s hiul . tlioir idiculo rt lotul ell' iii- ino lu) Ml the ciiitcd hands tlio Indian. Whon wo read of La Salle as cnntrivino: to trans- port un anvil, as wtjll as the essentials of a lorgt; and many of the heavy and bnlky materials for biiildin: damii'.'cs if the canoe sprang aleak, or was hrinsed or perforated hy ii sharp rock. Hut the liiihter the hark was when on its own element it carried its owner, the more easy was its burden when in turn it had to be borne on his own back or shoulder over a stretch of the tangh.'d forest, or round the rough rocks of a cascade, by the portages. Its freight would l)e trans- ported on one transit, itscdf by another, or hy several succes- sive tram|iings. Tiie canoe as a product of wilderness art and ingenuity is to bo judged not only l)y its own adapta- tions, but also l)y the resources at hand for nniterials and the scanty tools availalile for its construction and repair. Some curious couilicts of testimony as to the ventures and discoveries of early navigators along our coasts and into our bays de|>end upon the accounts given us of the stylo and material of the skitTs seen in use by tiie nativcjs, — wliether tiiey were l)ir(!h canoes, oi- so-call(Ml '"dug-outs." The liirchcn boats were always preferred by the Indian where the trees furnished the l)ark, as most readily fash- ioned, the most light and strong, and the most easily re- paired. The laminations of the l)ark,of any size and thick- ness desired, were bende(l around a simple frame-work of light iind slilV slits of any liard wood well seasoned; th(>y were lirndy liound and held by lil)rous I'oots and animal sin- ews, and made impervious to water by a compound of pitch and grease. A fracture or leak was, as just stated, at once repaired by pulling the canoe to the shore or the beach and drawing on the stores of the woods. Fitly does Longfellow give to it life and motion in his picturing lines : — 1C8 THE INDIAN IN I1I8 CONDITION, UKHOUUCHS, ETC. , ) 1 I A ^ I I " And llu- fori'Ht life is in it, — All itH inyHti'iy and its magic, All tlic tij,'iitiicss of ihc liiiih tmo. All tliu t(iU}{hncHs of tlic ceilur, All the liirch's HUpplf hincwg. Ami it lldiitcil on tli(> rivrr i.iki- u yt'lluw liar in autuuiii, Like a yi'llow water-lily." It waH (Ii'siraltlc that a (>aiiiit> slioiiM lie fasliioiird with as lurjj;i! strips ol' hark as possihU', to rcchifc tlio iiiiiuh(>r of joints imitinj^ thciu. Thcsf joints were (»ii)iiiially 8(!W(!d with htujr (ihnjs from the roots of the sprucc-troo. One or more transverse bars kept the craft in shape. The how and stern turned sharply upwards. It was usual to lift tho cunoe from the water at ni|j;ht, and ns often us was con- venient durinjr stuppajjes hy day. to fi'wo it a chani'e to dry, as the l)ark readily al)sorl)s water, increasing it.n wei;^ht. For two hundred years canoes of ^rreat cairyinp; (rapacity, for many tons of freight and many paddlers and passen^'crs, have hcen in use by the employds of the Hudson Hay ('om- pany, and are known as VanotH ilu Nord. 'V\u'. steerafve of these vess(ds throu^:h the rapids is a critical and exciting work. The chief responsibility is with the bowsman, really the captain, who sharply jj^ivcs his directions by words and (Gestures to the paddlers in the middle antl the slitei'sman in the stern. S(unetinu's in smooth waters, with a moderate wind, a sail is availed of. Tlw mana;j:ement and mivi^u* tion, with a valuable load, reipiire thi! utmost caution of all concerned to keep the balance, as the only way to *' trini the ship." Where the nuiterials for the birchen falirie — varying as it woidd in si/e for one or for fifty hmnan pas.sen- gers and their ptods — were not to be foimd, nor its less facile substitut(>s, elm or oak bark, the Indian had an alternative craft. Hy the help of (ire and his stone axe he would bring down a giant tree from tho for- est, and sever a sectiun of the trunk of desired length, TIIR INDIAN MOrCARON. 160 with roifiinl to proportioiiH of width ami tloplh. This 8uli(| iiiitt he Wiuihl tli.Mi Kplit with wcdj^'CH, and by burn- inj? and pMi^nnjr would h(»llow it out, r('(hn;iu« thn Hidra uiid boltonj to the utmost thinuoHn (MMjHiMtcut with buoy- ancy and security. Thin wuh the *• «h»;r-out." Ami this, aH well as the Idrchen eanoe, achuitted (»f jray oiiiameut or of friuditfid and liidcoiis dc\ ices, in earvini; and paint- injr, «H a vessel of war, aeeordinj; to llie taste and sivill of the artist. Nor were the skill and cminint; of the In- dian exhuusteil in these two servieeablo styles of water- craft. Willi a siniile bnlTalo or deer skin, or with seve- ral of them stitehed toi^ether anr the foot, instead of, as in our faltrics, at the sole or bottom. The moeea- son was made of one piece of skin. I'nlike our heavy boots, it did not impede the perspiration of the fnot, and it saved the Indian from corns and Inmions. The wearer was not apt to take cold, as by a leak in a shoe or boot. It was easily dried, ane Mystic, near the classic grounds of Harvard College, still bears the name of Alewifo Brook. The first white settlers found the natives drawiug from it a fertilizer for a wide extent of their planting grounds. The Pilgrims very often sent their shallops to the coast of Maine to buy corn of the Indians. When the first settlers of Con- necticut were once in dread of famine, they sent up the river from Hartford and Windsor to Pocumtock, now Deer- field, and the river Indians brought down to them fifty canoe-loads of corn. In Governor Endicott's raid on the natives in Block Island, mention is made of two hundred 176 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. acres of "stately fields of corn" which were destroyed by the whites. In the frequent and destructive onsets made by the PVench, with Huron allies, against the Iroquois or New York Indians and their beautiful fields, marvellously large garners of corn were burned, in fruitless attempts to starve the natives, who had supplies for two years in store. The party under General Sullivan, in his Indian expedition in 1779, saw with surprise the evidences of thrift among the Iroquois, and noted not only vast quantities of maize and vegetables, but old apple-orchards, the stock of which must have been obtained from the French or Dutch. In the campaigns of CJenerals Harmer and St. Clair beyond the Ohio, after the close of the Ecvolutionary war, we read of the destruction of vast fields of corn in the river bottoms, belonging to the Miamis. The early French missionaries describe the more thrifty of the natives with whom they first became acquainted, — the Abcnakis, around the Penobscot and in northern New Hampshire, — as industrious and prosperous. They had fixed palisaded villages and substantial bark-cabins. Their ornaments were rings, necklaces, bracelets, and belts skil- fully wrought with shells and stones. They had fertile and well-tilled fields of maize and other vegetables, planted in June and harvested in August. Further west the wild game was in abundance, diiferent kinds of it alternating in differ- ent seasons. Enormous flocks of fowl made their spring and autumn migrations, offering a rich variety. It would appear, that, according as the natural crops or products of various jmrts of the country admitted of preservation by any artificial process within the skill of the Indian, they were stored for use. The maize was the most substantial and the easiest for culture and preservation, through heat and cold. A quart of the kernels roasted and pounded, to be as needed mixed in water, with or without being boiled, committed by the Indian to his pouch, would serve him for a long journey. It was usual for the squaws to dry large HIS ECONOMY. 177 quantities of siimmor berries, and to renew the juices in tlieni by mixing them in cooking with flesh food. 80 far from agreeing with the general judgment about tlie wastefulness and improvidence of the Indians, there are intelligent persons who liave lived among them, o])serv- ant of their ways, who have given strong statements of quite other (pialities of theirs, especially in some of the Western tribes. Indeed, their economy and thrift have in some matters been set in censorious contrast with the reck- lessness of the whites. For example, in some recent years there is evidence that at least a million buffaloes on the Western plains have annually l)een slaughtered by whites and Indians in the way of trade, merely for their hides and tongues, — the carcasses being wantonly left to poison the air for many miles, and to fatten wolves and coyotes, be- fore this greed of traffic came in, the economical natives made a good use of every part of a single buffalo, killing only such as they could thus improve. The flesh, either fresh or dried, was for food. The skins were dressed with all of the white man's skill, though by different processes, as were those of other animals, either to remove or to pre- serve the hair. They were well oiled and dried and made pliant. These skins were variously employed for blankets, lodge-covers, and beds, for temporary boats, for saddles, lassos, and thongs. The horns were wi'ought into ladles and sjwons ; the brains furnished a material which had a virtue in the process of tanning ; the bones were converted into saddle-trees, war-clu])S, and scrapers ; the marrow into choice fat ; the sinews into bow-strings and thread ; the feet and hoofs into glue ; the hair was twisted for ropes and halters. So that the Indians left nothing of the car- cass — as do the whites — to feed the ravenous and unprofit- a1)le packs of ])rowlors. Nor did the Indians generally kill the buffalo at a season when his flesh was not in keeping for food, or his hide for dres^'iff. There were also preferred ^olicacies of the Avilderncss 12 i 178 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RFSOURCES, ETC. well known to and liiglily appreciated by the Indian. Anion<^ these were the Iniff'alo's tonj^ue and hump, the elk'.s nose, the beaver's tail, and the bear's paws. Of tlie cookery of the scpiaws it may not be well to give any more i)articulars than those on a previous page. Doubt- less it was and is unappetizing, repulsive, revolting often, esi)ecially when the i)rocess was watclicd and the mate- rials in the kettle were known. But wilderness food and wilderness appetites went together; and the kitchen, even a French one, is not for the eye a good provocative for the dining-table. Headers ^yho arc versed in the voluminous and highly interesting literature of the Hudson's Bay Company, the narratives of the Arctic and Northwest voyagers and ex- plorers, the adventures of fur-traders, trappers, etc., know well how an article called " iicmmican " appears in them all as a commodity for subsistence and trallic. This highly nutritive, compact, and every way most convenient and scrviceal)le kind of food, for preservation and trans- portation, might rightfully be })atented by the Western and the Northern Indians. It was invented by them, and by them it is most skilfully and scientifically prejjared. The flesh of the buffalo, the deer, the bear, or the elk is shredded off by the squaws, dried in the sun to retain its juices (two days of favorable weather are sufficient), pounded fine, and then packed in sacks made of the skins of the legs of the animals, stripped off without being cut lengthwise. The lean meat, without salt, is then covered from the air by pouring the fat upon it. The propor- tions are forty pounds of fat to fifty of lean ; and some- times, when the articles are at hand, there will be mixed in the compound five pounds of berries and five of maple sugar. This may not make the most palatable of viands, but it is admirably adapted for the uses Avhich enormous quantities of it have served alike for men and their sledge- dogs. INTERCOMMUNICATION BY LANGUAGE. 179 The diversity of languages among our aborigines, already referred to, and the relations between the roi ;s of their words, their vocabularies, and granunatical construc- tions have been the subjects of a vast amount of in I I \ • In ■ 186 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. a fond passion of his, the impulse for gaming, which over- masters it, must be something stronger and more goading. Tlie playing-cards of the white men are greedily seized upon by such of the savages — and they are very many on the frontiers, in California and Oregon and in Washington Territory — as have caught the art of their use from sea- men and miners. Xor is the Indian confined in playing with them to the distinctive games common to the white men. They serve him well through his own ingenuity witliin a large range for chance, though they would not probably in his own hands derive much service for calcu- lation and skill. Doubtless he knows well how to turn them to account for " tricks that arc dark." His own methods and implements for gaming are to white men either trivial or uninteresting, though sometimes exciting. Sleigh t-oi-hand, agility, velocity of movement, a quick eye, and supple musedcs in manipulating the sticks or stones of his simj)le inventory servo his purpose. The working of intense excitement and passion, and the complete concen- tration of all his faculties in gaming show how absorbing is the occupation to himself. Feats of strength and agility, running, lifting, archery, pitching the quoit, and practis- ing contortions, athletics, and diilficult poises of the body give him a wide range for exercise with one or more companions. Beyond these private methods for occupying idle hours or finding stimulus and excitement in the ordinary run of life, the natives fairly rival the civilized races in the nmnbor and variety of their ju1)ilant, festive, and com- memorative occasions, indojiendently of those connected with warfare. There were and are general similarities in the occasions for merriment, games, and periodical festivals of commemoration, among the tribes all over the continent. But there are many such that arc spe- cial and distinctive of single tribes or of a group of tribes. There is not much that is interesting or attractive for INDIAN GAMES AND AMUSEMENTS. 187 relation in citlicr class of them for us. Violent bodily exercise in almost superhuman strainings of nerve and muscle ; yellings and howlings, accompanied with rattles and drums ; gornmndizings on their rude and miscella- neous viands, the dog-feast having the j)re-emincuce ; run- ning for a g(}al ; i)itching a bar ; driving a l)all by parties on divided sides, whose heated rivalry when they are luuldlcd in close struggles Ijarely keeps the distinction between play and mortal combat, and occasionally a con- test similar to that of the prize-ring among the whites, — these constitute the more stirring and festive gayeties of tlie Indians. More calm and dignified ol)servances there are, connected with periodical and distinctive festivals among various tribes. A happy occasion is found l)y s(une at the season when the green corn is iji the milk : the sweetness and simplicity of the repast would seem to engage the gentler sentiments. There is much resemblance also to the New England Thanksgiving in the j)leasant rec- ognition of tlie maize harvesting, the scjuaws doing the ingathering; while the husking, and the "trailing" or braiding of the ears in strings by the inner husk was an anuisement for both sexes and all ages. Graver still, and often \vith subdued numifestations, were certain lugu- brious occasions of fasting and lamentinu: connected with commemorations of their ancestors and relatives, or the re-disj)()sal of the remains of their dead. Though these occasions generally ended in a breaking of the fast, there were often in them true solnnnity, thoughtfulness, and right sentiments. If we can separate from all these occa- sions the drawbacks incident to the w'ildness and rough- ness of the mode of life, the untutored tastes, the poverty of material, and the hold of tradition with its arbitrary re(piisitions on the minds of the savages, we shall con- clude that the ends which they had in view were as nearly compassed in their festivities as arc the intents of civil- ized people in their most elaborate materials and methods 1 188 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. of amusement, relaxation, or observance. Cruelty in some form was apt to intrude itself even upon the amusements of the savages. Where this was excluded, the whites who have been observers of these spectacles — even of some which arc jealously reserved from the eyes of strangers — have reported them as often pleasing for their vivacity, from the evidently keen enjoyment of them, and for their grateful relief from the monotony of a grovelling life. Oc- casionally a gifted genius among the savages, filled w.'th the traditions and skilfully turning to account the super- stitions of his tribe, with all the spirit and imagination, though lacking the metric and rhythmic art, of the poet, would engage for hours the rapt attention of his hushed auditors, as in his generation he was made the repository, for transmission, of their legendary lore. The i)rcparations for the hunt and the return from it when it had been successful — with exception only of the going and the return of war-parties — were the most noisy and demonstrative occasions of Indian life. The skilled watching of the signs of the seasons, with their keen ob- servance of the periodicity which rules in all the phe- nomena of Nature, and the reports of their scouts sent only in one or two directions, gave them due notice of the day when the beasts or the fowl — "who know their ap- pointed times" — were ready to be turned to the uses of their more privileged kimhod the red men. Their wea- pons and foot-gear were ready. The sc^uaws were to ac- company them to flay the victims and to secure the meat. The night or the day before the start, some simple observ- ances were held to secure propitious omens. The older braves consulted the secrets of their " medicine-bags," and the youths who were to make their first trial of early manhood were like dogs in the leash. The hunters knew where to go, how to creep in noiseless secrecy, and when to raise the shout. They had agreed whether they wore to rush in free coursing upon their game, either to outrun THE HUNTING-SEASON. 189 I I them or to strike a panic among them, or whether to sur- round them and drive them into a circle, or to ^omo \n^ or prccijiicc or snare. Tlicy did not pause a moment, where the animals were tempting in number, to secure any one of tiicm which a hunter had struck down or se- verely crippled. Each hunter knew his 'Wn arrow, or, if armed with a gun, the direction of his bullet; and when the wild scrimmage was over there was no dispute or rivalry, as each selected his own spoils. Care was had, if possible, to gather enough for a gluttonous feast on their return to their lodges, and for the season's store. With the scrupulous economy before referred to, so long as the natives had not learned wastefulness from the whites, they put every fragment of the animal to some good use. More than in any other demand upon their strengJi or dignity, the male savages were ready, on the occasion of a return from the hunt, to share the burden of the squaws. Sometimes, if the game had led them to a con- siderable distance from their lodges, it was necessary to cacJie, or bury in concealment, all that they were uualjle to convey, returning for it at their leisure. It was only at a special season of the year that different species of game were in good flesh, and that the fleeces of the animals were in proper condition for preserving the hides or skins. The ranges of the different species of game — the buffalo, the moose, the caribou, the mountain sheep, the elk, the otter — were sometimes limited. The bear, the deer, the beaver, and several smaller creatures were widely distri- buted. The more dependent any tribe was upon lunit- ing, rather than upon other food, the more wild were its habits and the more robust its physique. But life among these men of the woods and streams had its dark side, — dismal and appalling in its dreads and sufferings. Not to these untutored men, women, and chil- dren, more than to the civilized, was existence relieved from real or from imaginary and artificial woes. The In- t w '\ i i 190 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONPITION, RESOURCES, ETC. (liana, tlirongh the whole continent and nndcr all variety of circumstances, were and arc the victims of enfeebling and distressing sniierstitions. Those arc associated with the most serious and the most trifling incidents of their lives They find dark omens and forebodings not only in events, but even in their own random thoughts. Dreams have a deeper, a more serious, a more potent influence over them than do any occurrences and experiences of the noon- day light. They brood for hours of keen and anxious musing over the interpretation of any vision of a night, — its counsel, command, or warning to them. It is in their dreams that their own guiding or guardian spirit comes to them, llis own revered and familiar fetich, or especial companion foi- life, comes to each of the youth passing on to manhood, in some special dream connected with his period of retirement and fasting, as ho is in training for a brave. It niny come through the shape of some animal or bird, which henceforth is the cherished confidant of the rest of his life. Among the mysterious treasures of the " medicine-bag " is some article, meaningless to all but the owner, which is identilied with this dream messenger. The course of ac- tion of an Indian in some of the most important of his voluntary proceedings is often decided by some direction believed to have been made to him in a dream. If forced by comi)anionshii) or necessity to do anything against which his superstitious musings have warned him, he complies with a faintness of heart which unmans him far more than does a faltering courage in the thick of carnage. A plea- sant dream will irradiate his breast and his features for long days afterwards. lie cheerfidly complies with any acts of sclf-'^cnial to which he is prompted through this medium. A pleasant story is told of a chief of the Five Nations in warm friendship with Sir William Johnson, British agent among those tribes. Seeing once the portly officer arrayed in a splendid scarlet uniform, with cliapeau SUI'ERSTITIOXS OF THE INDIANS. 191 ■^ and feather and epaulets and gold lacc just received from Enirland, the eliiet' sutrirestively assured liini soon after that lie had dreamed a dream. On behitr ()Uesli(in('d as to its ))ur])ort, he candidly said that ho had di'eamecl that Sir William was to make ium a j)resent of a similar array. Of conrso tiic politic oHicer fuUilled tlie dream. After a proper lapse of time Sir William also communicated a dream of his own, to the effect that the chief would pre- sent him with a larcc stretch of valuable land. The chief at once conferred the ^'ift, quietly remarking that the white man "dreamed too hard for the Indian." The signilicanco which the superstition of the Indian gives as omens to signs in heaven among the stars and clouds, or to aspects or incidents or objects which hajjly attract his notice aromul him, will either (piicken him to joy or burden him with terror. The boldest warrior will wake with shudderings from a profound sleep, and notiiing will bend his will to a course of which he has thus been instructed to beware. His own mind in fear or hoi)c gives an ill or a propitious significance to things which have in themselves no suggestion of either character. The dream of a brave whose character or counsel carries weight with it will often decide the issue of peace or war for a tribe. As superstition, like most forms of folly and error, i)re- dominatcs with shadows and fears over all brighter fancies which it brings to the mind, so the Indian's reliance upon his visionary experiences tends to a prevailing melancholy. The traditions of his tribe, also, were inwrought with some superstitions which on occasions turned a briglit oi' a dark counsel in emergencies, and served to insi)irit or to depress them in projected enteri)rises. The Jesuit missionaries among the Indians soon learned that some of the most embarrassing conditions of their residence, and some of the most threatening dangers to which they were exposed, — thwarting their efforts at con- version, and keeping their lives in momentary perils, — came 192 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. from the snporstitious suspicions of tlic natives. Cases of individual disease did not alarm tlicm ; but anythinj^ like an epidemic, contagious, or prevailing malady they always ascribed to an evil charm. They bent a lowering gaze upon the missionary as he went on liis errands of mercy, suspecting liim of communicating disease. Often did the zealous Father in cunning secrecy draw the sign of the cross on the forehead of the sick infant ; for even bap- tism came to be dreaded under some circumstances, as if that also were a charm. The darker passions of treachery, revenge, cherished animosities, cunning watchfulness for opi)ortunity to gratify a grudge, and the practice of dis- simidation were, of course, as human proclivities, found in their full power among the men of the Avoods. Among the romantic views which enter into the prevailing conceptions of savage life is that which attributes to the Indian a some- what remarkable exercise of gratitude in keei)lng in long remembrance any service or favor towards him, and wait- ing for an opportunity to repay it. Much will depend upon the sort of service or favor thus to be compen- sated. But there is nothing peculiar to the savage in this manifestation. The advocates of a resolute and vigorous military policy by our Government, as alone effective in the management of our Indian tribes, would pronounce it a most serious omission from a volu' " covering our whole subject if it failed to draw strongly, and in full and harrowing detail, the horrors and barbarities of Indian warfare, and the characteristic qualities of the savage as above all things a born fighter, blood-thirsty, ferocious, and destitute of all human feelings in his brutal conflicts with his own race or with the whites. Perhaps as much as most readers will care to peruse has been already put before them on pre- vious pages in reference to the inhumanity and barbarity of the savage in warfare, to his fiendish tortiirings of his victims, and to his frenzied passion, unslaked even by the THE INDIAN A BORN FIGHTER. 193 flesh and blood of his foe. Enoupjli more will needs bo said or rocoffuized in paj^cs yet to follow, in the various divisions of our subject, to keep in our minds these re[)ul- sivc qualities of the Indian as a lighter. In general it is to be said, that, apart fnnn those qualities as a torturer and a cannibal, — which are simply inherent in full barbar- ism, — the savage Indian, lilie the civilized white man, uses against an enemy, in warfare, all the arts and imple- ments — the guile, the ambush, the stratagem, tlie surprise, the deceit, the weapons, and the fhimes — wliicli he can put to his service. Lacking tlie steel sword, knife, and bayo- net, the pistol, firelock, and cannon, tlie armor, the horse, and the bloodhound, of the European, his armory was drawn from the stones, the flint-barbed arrow and spear, occasionally tipped with poison, the sliarp fish-bone, the tomahawk, and the war-club. He did the best he could under the circumstances. The "calumet," first mentioned under this Indian name by De Soto, is familiar to us as the emblem of peace when smoked and passed from hand to hand in an interview or council. This jjipe was often lavishly ornamented. Tlierc is occasion here, in connection with flie relation of the other incidents and elements of savage life, to note not so much the methods as the customs of the savage tribes in preparation for and in the return from their fields of blood. The savage, in all the northern parts of our continent, was and is a born fighter. A state of warfare is his chronic condition. So far as it relieves the burden of reproach on the white man in his long and generally, but not always, prevailing conflict with the savages, — and the relief is a considerable and a serious one, — we have to emphasize the fact that the Indians have been each others' most virulent and fatal foes. They were found to be fighting each other when the white man came among them ; and each and all the tribes, as one by one they have been brought into communication, had stories to tell 13 i 194 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. of previous and recent confiicta, and traditions of others running back into undated periods. It would indeed be difficult to say whether more of havoc had been wrought among the Indians in their internecine strifes than by the white man in his comprehensive warfare against them. From the formation of our own National Governiuent its humane services have been often engaged in very embar- rassing and sometimes costly efforts to repress the lioatili- ties between various tribes. These strifes have generally been heredita'-y, with a long entail. The Indian's memory, reinforced by faithful transmission through the traditions of the elders, is for these matters an equivalent substitute for records. Only within quite recent years our Govern- ment came as an umpire and a pacificator into one of these hereditary feuds between the Sioux, or Dakotas, and the Chippeways, in the Northwest. Neither of the parties could date the beginning of the alienation ; or, at least, each of them referred it to a different cause in its origin. The successive forts built by our Government at the junction of Western rivers and other strategic points, while mainly designed to aid its own purposes, have often served to over- awe or proVc a refuge for a prowling or a hounded tribe of hostiles against hostiles. With such training for the field of conflict and b^uod the savages were always ready in preparation for any new scene and enterprise. They had, as well as white men, their military code, with rules and principles, their system of signals, their challenges, — except where a bold surprise was essential, — their conditions and flags of truce, their cartels, and terms of peace through reparation and trib- ute. We are familiar enough with the aboriginal figures of speech, the " burying " or the " lifting " the hatchet. " Laying down the hatchet " signified the temporary sus- pension of fighting, as in a truce. " Covering the hatchet" was condoning a cause of feud by presents. It is probably a mistake to suppose that the savages in their own tribal PREPAHATION OP A WAU-PAllTT. 196 warfare always sotip^ht to como upon the enemy in secret surprise: tliis was tlicir inetliod with tlie wliitcs ; l)ut most frc(iuently the savajjjo enemy had reason to expect a lilow. Generally, too, while with provocation and a reasonal)le hope of success a single tri])e would take the wai-path alone, alliances were soufjht for hy them, esi)ecially when their foes were multiplied. There was in the latter al- ternative full deliberation upon strength, resources, and methods. Messengers passed between these allied tribes; the council fires were lighted ; the pipe was passed from mouth to mouth ; intervals of deep silence were observed, for thoughtfulness and the simimoning of wise speech. There was no clamor, no interruption of a speaker, whose forest eloquence enlarged uijon grievances and deepened hate, roused courage by satire upon the cowardice of the enemy or flattery of the prowess of the hearers. When the speaker closed, a single deep ejaculation was t Je sole comment on his words. After due i)auses, as maiy ora- tors as were moved to utterance were patiently heard. Those who had best proved their bravery and ardor were most closely listened to. There was no place for cow- ards, though words of caution and hesitancy were not discoimtenanced. The scene in an Indian village the night preceding the going forth to the fray was hideous and diabolic. The painted, bedizened, and yelling fiends lashed themselves into a fury of passion, with contorted features and writh- ing gestures, striking their hatchets into the crimson war- post, and imitating the laments and shrieks which they intended to draw from a mastered foe. The clatter of drum and rattle is in keeping with their tuneless nuisic. Thus with all the aspect and array of devils they prepared themselves to strike the blow. The aged and feeble, the women and children, were left in the lodges to await in dread the return of the braves; never, however, disheart- ening them, but following them with rallying parting cheers r ' f 190 .E INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. of praise and promise. The "war-whoop" is a phrase wliich has had terrific meaning for those who have quailed before its pandemonium fury. True to their proud kinsliip with the animals, the braves borrow from bears, wolves, owls, and the rest those howls and yelps, those shriekings and barkings, by which to strike a panic through their vic- tims and to paralyze their energies. In such of the Indian towns as were strongly fortified by palisades there was often occasion for much strategy in attack and defence. We need not follow this war-party, nor rehearse its doings, but take it up again at its return to the village. Those who are there on the watch for them are informed first by scouts sent in advance of the party. The first announcements, made in gloom and wailings if the occasion calls for it, are of the disasters of the ex- pedition, of the number and names of the slaughtered, or of those left as captives, of their own side. The women who are bereaved by these losses are allowed full indul- gence in their screams and lamentings, finding in the sharpening of their grief a keenness for the savage pas- sions which they are soon to wreak on victims, if any such come in as captives. When the full war-party comes in, if it has been even but moderately successful, all these laments must yield to boastful shouts of elated triumph. Tlie warriors rehearse their exploits, with mimicry of their own actions and those of the enemy. The scalp-locks are swung in the air, the bloody weapons are brandished, and the scenes connected with those of the night preceding the start on the war-path are iC-enactcd. If there are prisoners, their fate is direful. Occasionally the privilege is granted to any one of the tribe, man or woman, who has been bereaved of a rela- tive, to claim that one or more may be spared for adop- tion in place of the deceased ; and, according to circum- stances, the rescued captive may become a hard-tasked slave, or be received in full friendship as a member of the THE GANTLET AND THE TORTURE. 197 10 a- tribe. According to circumstances, too, he will hence- forward be on the watch for an opportunity to escape, or, becoming reconciled to his lot, will make the best of it. The methods of torment are graduated by processes leading on through intensified trials of endurance and sen- sibility to a result which, while stilling the tide of life, shall dismiss the spirit in a quiver of agony. The victims of this barbarity are usually first subjected to the running of the gantlet between two defined goals, the women and the children lining the way, inflicting blows, with bitter taunts. It is when, under the insults, the lashings, the kicks, and maulings of this preliminary ordeal, and in the fiercer agonies of the stake, the brave can mahitaiu his calm and serenity of countenance, with exalted spirit, taunting his tormentors because their devices are so weak and harm- less, boasting of the number of them whom he has treated in the same way, and raising his death-song above their yellings, — it is then that they reward him with their admiration. This may prompt a generous enemy — not in pity perhaps, but in responsive nobleness of spirit — to deal the final blow of deliverance. The coward, who shrinks and weeps, and pleads for mercy, only raises tlie scorn of his tormentors, and leads them to prolong and multi- ply the ingenuities of cruelty. This sketch of the war-customs of the savages conforms more particularly to the periods preceding their inter- course with the Europeans, and to those after the races were brought into their earlier strifes. Among the West^ ern and Northern tribes these war-usages have continued substantially unchanged to our own times ; but slight modifications have come into them within this century. There have been occasions in very recent conflicts be- tween the whites and the Indians, when, under the goad- ings of some deep-felt sense of wrong and perfidy in their treatment, all the most furious passions of the savages 1 I i li i 198 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. seem to have been kindled into an intensified rage and desperation. Military officers now in service, and fron- tiersmen on our border lines, testify that the war-spirit, with all its attendant savage characteristics, has not been mollified or subdued in some of the tribes, but has rather been exasperated by the experience of the white man's potency, and by the dark forebodings of des- tiny for the red race. The slaughterings which we call massacres, when wrought by the Indian? have been as hideous and as comprehensive in their fury within the lifetime of the present generation as were any on the records of the past. Our military men have found their savage foes as quick in stratagem and as artful in their devices as if they had been learning in their own school something e(iuivalent to the modern civilized advance in the science of soldiery. Our campaigners against a body of hostiles, when seeking to conceal their motions and trackings, have learned to look keenly towards all the surrounding hill-tops to discover any of the " smoke-sig- nals," made from moist grass and leaves with a smoulder- ing fire, by which the ingenious foe, hidden in their re- treats, make known to their separate watch-parties the direction and the numbers of their jealously observed white pursuers. The frontier settler, telling his expe- riences of the prowling Indian thief, incendiary, and mur- derer, will not admit that the savage has been either awed or humanized by feeling the power or influence of the white man. The ingenuity of the Indian is taxed in arraying himself in war-paint, especially as he has no mirror to aid him. Very few of our natives seem to have practised tattooing, except of some small totem- figure on a limb. Le Moyne, in his illustrations, repre- sents the Florida Indians as elaborately and even artisti- cally tattooed over the whole body, except the face. The first fire-arms that came into tlie hands of our savages, giving them the aid of the white man's implo- INDIAN TRIBAL GOVERNMENT. 199 ments for warfare, were those which the Dutch on the Hudson, about tlie year 1613 and subsequently, bartered with the Iroquois or the Moiiawks for peltry. This was most grievously complained of afterwards by the French in Canada and the English on the Atlantic sea- board as an act of real treachery, for the sake of gain, against the common security of all European colonists. The French and the English protested against it, and vainly sought by prohibitions and enactments to pre- vent any further traffic of the sort. The mischief was done. The savage now felt himself to be on an c(iuality with the white man, of Avhose tu'tificial thunder and light- ning he no longer stood in superstitious awe. Not again were the savages to quail before the report and the deadly missile, as they did on that first campaign of the French, when Champlain, near the lake to which he gave his name, fired his arquebuse with fatal effect. The Indian's eye and aim with the rifle have heightened his skill and prowess as a fighter. As we shall note further on, upon the plea that as game has become scarcer and more timid the bow and arrow have lost their use, the Indians on the reservations and under treaty and pen- sions Avitli our Government, some of whom arc of worse than dubious loyalty, have been freely sujtplied with the best revolvers, rifles, and fixed metallic ammunition. Fierce have been the protests from our soldiers and fron- tiersmen, that the instruments of their annoyance and destruction come from our natioiuil armories. There has always been a general tendency among the Euro[)eans here to overestimate the presence, method, and influence rf anything to be i)roperly called government in the internal administration of Indian tril)os. The near- est approach to what we regard as organization, represen- tation and joint fellowship among the Indians is presented to us in what is known as " The Iroquois League," which has had an imaginative delineation in the exquisite poem of Ill u m N 200 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. "Iliawatlia," and proximately a trutliful liistorlcal descrip- tion by the late Lewis H. Morgan, — an adopted member of tbe tribe, and familiar from earlv years witli its rich traditions. Tiiere seems to liavc been moi'c of system and method in the confederated League of the Tribes compos- ing the union, than there was of lilce organization in each of its comi)onent parts. Li the several independent or even affiliated Lidian tribes with which the Euro{)cans came into contact from the first colonization, tlic latter assumed that there was a tolerably well-arranged method in eacli of them for the administration of affairs of peace and war by a chief and his council, who had an almost arbitrary authority ; that he received tribute, which was equivalent to a system of taxation ; and that the proceeds constituted a sort of com- mon treasury to be drawn upon for public uses. One of the grievances alleged by King Philip and other sachems when, under the influence of the Apostle Eliot, many of the Lidians had been gathered into viUages of their own that they miglit be instructed and trained, was that they ceased to pay the tribute which they had previously rendered to their chiefs. There may, therefore, have been instances, more or less defined, in which such usages prevailed among the tribes. But it is safe to say that they were by no means general, still less indicative of a universal custom of Indian government. There was no occasion for endowing a chief, or for furnishing him a salary. The ])robability is that there has been more of organized and of administrative order in several of the tribes since the coming of the whites than there was before, and that modifications and adap- tations of original Indian usages, or a recourse to some wholly new ones, have necessarily followed upon intimacy of relations with the strangers. When tlio whites wished to make a treaty with a tribe, to obtain a grant of land, or to execute any other like covenant, they would naturally call for such persons among them as had authority, ex- INDIAN CHIEFTAINS AND ORATORS. 201 ecutivc and decisive, for acting for the tribe. These the whites called kings, chieftains, saclicms, councillors, while the commonalty were called subjects. The facts certainly soon came to conform to this view of the whites; but it is doubtful whether such had previously been the state of things. Especially is it doubtful whether the members of a tribe considered themselves as subjects of their chief, in our sense of the word. Our term " citizens" would more ])ro))- erly apply to them. They spoke of themselves as the people of a tribe. We shall have again to refer to this point in connection with the matter of the cession of lands. There was a wide variety as to headship and methods of organization among the scattered tribes of the aborigines on this continent. We find frequent instances in which headship was divided into two distinct functions, there being a chief for affairs of war and another for civil ad- ministration, — a fighter and an orator. The " powwows," priests, or medicine-men had functions in the government. Sometimes the hereditary headship ran in the male, some- times in the female line, and occasionally it ran off into col- lateral branches. The holding of a headship, if its posses- sor was of marked ability, gave him a large range to assert authority, and assured to him full liberty and acfiuiescencc in its exercise. The ablest Indians with whom the whites have had the most serious relations, in peace or war, have been without exception chiefs of their tribes. There have been but few of these great men, born sovereigns and pa- triots, compared with the vastly larger number of the ordi- nary and petty sachems who have held their places. Often, too, the character and qualities of the so-called subjects would influence the functions and authority of a chief, as well as indicate what sort of a man he had need to bo. Under the term "Belts," Europeans name the wrought and ornamented strips of skin or cloth in use by the na- tives, made by themselves, and employed to signify or ratify covenants, pledges, and treaties in their councils upon the I I n I i 202 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. more serious affairs, among their o n tribes or with the whites. As first known to the whites tlirough the Indians near the coast, these "Belts," called "Wampum," were often used as currency and ornaments. There they were made of little fragments of sea-shells; in the interior, of other hard and glittering fragments, — glass, beads, etc. The laying them down or passing them from hand to hand marks emphatic points in an address, or impresses its close. The intent is that these belts shall be preserved and iden- tified with the occasion and pledge in giving and receiving them. The nomadic and inconstant habits of the natives do not favor this preservation. But in some instances they have been cherished and handed down through careful transmission in a tribe, and acquire sacred associations. The Indians over our whole northern continent, at least, arc indebted to the Europeans for the addition to their own natural resources of what is now the most valuable of their possessions, — a compensation for much which they have lost, and a facility admirably adaj)ted to their use in perfect keeping with their own wild life. This is the horse. What- ever sui)port may be assured for the theory tluit the horse was at any time indigenous on either section of this conti- nent, or whether, as has been asserted, its bones have been found among fossils, it is certain that the present stock of the animals is from the increase from foreign importations, — first and chiefly by the Spaniards through Florida and California. How marvellous has been the change which time and circumstances have wrought since the simple na- tives of our islands and isthmus quailed in panic dread and awe at the first sight of those frightful monsters, with their steel-clad and death-dealing riders, till now when the useful and almost intelligent beast has become the Indian's play- thing in sportive pastime, and his indispensable resource in tlie chase and in his skirmishes with the white man! The rifle and the horse have spanned the chasm between the two races in most of tlie occasions on which they now confront TUB INDIAN "PONY." 203 each other, Tlic " pony," as the animal is now affection- ately najncd hy the owner, is the chief object in v.n Indian's inventory of his private possessions. It is the standard estimate of value for the purchase-price in marrias^e of the daugliter of a brave by the young buck who wishes to enter into the bonds of wedlock ; and the more ponies the buck possesses, the more of such helpmeets can he gather at the same time in his lodge. And wlien he wislies tlic privilege of divorce, he can always salve the wounded sensibilities of a father-in-law by giving him some of tlie same sort of curiTncy wliicli obtained for him tlic bride who has become an incumbrance : the father will always take her back if she is well mounted and has relays, — only the animals become his, not hers. The pride of the Indian all over our central and western regions now rests upon his ponies (their number not infrequently running into the hundreds) , their training for the cliase of beasts, or men, and tlieir fieetness in flight. Symmetry of form, grace of move- ment, quality of blood, are not generally to any extent ob- jects of critical concern to their owners. They are seldom groomed, though often petted ; they are rough and shaggy in appearance, and untrimmed. Tlic breed, as modified from j)rogenitors under a different clime and usage though not wholly unlike forms of service, has adapted itself to new conditions of food, exposure, riders, and treatment. Wholly in contrast with the sleek and glossy Arab courser, the Indian pony, who never knows stable, and but seldom shelter, conforms liimself patiently and as by consent of Nature to these changed terms of his experience. Coralled in companies by night, or singly fettered or tied to tree or .:take, with a range for browsing, according as security or apprehension from all furtive prowlers might dictate to the owner, the pony finds his chance for resting and for eating at the same time. His food, as well as that of his master, is always contingent, often meagre, and sometimes lack- ing for days together. On favored expanses of the prairie I ' I -te < i! 204 THE INDIAN IN HIS CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. lie is at times bettor fed tlian is his rider. In his straits he will paw away the deep snows that cover rich pr scant herbage, or relieve his pangs by branches of the cotton- wood, or other juiceless forage. His training was that which sliould adapt him to the special requirements of his master. No circus ring shows us more facile or daring equestrians than are common, indeed universal, among the savages. Their accomplishments are marvellous. To over- come the pony's reluctance to draw into too close proximity with the wounded buffalo, and when by his front or side to help the pony to avoid the short horns propelled by muscles of gigantic pressure, is a matter of understanding between him and his master. The pony also easily acquires a con- formity of his movements and attitudes to help the pur- poses of his rider in throwing the lasso. A brave will cling by one arm or leg to the neck or back of the animal, sus- pending his head and body out of reach by his enemy, and catch his chance to take aim and fire his rifle. Not the least of the acquired accomplishments of the In- dian in equestrianism is that of plying every artifice of cunning and skill, of crawling in the covert, and watching his chance for stealing the horses of his neighbor on the frontiers, or of his enemy in camp. This is one of the highest on the catalogue of the virtues of the Indian. Suc- cess in horse-stealing is equal in merit to courage in battle. The Indian in boasting his feats gives a high place to the tale of his equestrian spoils. If after having made a suc- cessful raid for such booty he is followed up by the rifled owner, he stands wholly unabashed before the claimant, and seems rather to expect a compliment than a rebuke, appear- ing outraged at the suggestion of reprisals. The Indians have added horse-racing, in which they are fiery and bois- terous adepts, to their own native games ; and they love to have white men for spectators. The last resource of the famishing Indian, as indeed it has been of many parties of hunters and explorers among the whites, buried in winter THE PAPPOOSE AND THE YOUTH. 205 snows or on desert plains, is to commit the pony to the kettle, or to tear his raw flesh. In this cxtrcuiity, how- ever, the beast like his owner is but a bony skeleton. Notliiiij:i; answering to our ideas of instruction or even of training was recognized among the Indians for each genera- tion of the young. All the teaching they received was by the approved method of example ; only the example was of a sort merely to reproduce without advance or improvement all the characteristic degradation of the same barbarism which had been perpetuated for an unknown lapse of time. The words home, school, pupilage, discipline, morality, de- cency, find no place in any of the multiplied Indian vocabu- laries. The catalogue of qualities which wo call virtues did not enter even among the idealities of the savage. With scarce an exception in his favor, all who as inti- mates and observers have best known the Indians report them as fraudulent, insincere, skilled in all the arts of guile and artifice, with habits filthier and more shameless than those of beasts. Such being the most marked traits of the elders among them, and in the lack of any aim or purpose to improve upon themselves in their children, the utmost wc could expect of fathers is that they would be simply indifferent to their pappooses, until, growing up to ma- turity, the girls were about to be salable as wives, and the boys were to put themselves into training for warriors. A common mode of paternal discipline for an offending youth was to throw water upon him by sprinkling or dashing. Indians, however, are often very fond of their children, and excessively indulgent in the liberty allowed them. The Indian youth — who had been repressed as an in- fant, left alone for long hours strajipcd on his birch or bark cradle leaning against tree or wigwam, and not given to crying, because he learned very early that there was no use in crying — was trusted as a child to growth and self- development. He was inured to cold, hunger, and pain; to rough dealings on the ground, in the air, and in the I ! H. 206 THE INDIAN IN HI9 CONDITION, RESOURCES, ETC. water. Ho liad boon nursed by liis motlier for three, four, or even more years, because of the lack of otlier infantile nutriment. As soon as he was free for the use of his limbs, for the trainin<^ of his senses, and for the gaining and exercise of physical strength, his prospective range and method of life, wiih the conditions under which it was to be passed, decided what he was to learn and practise. Upon tiie females, as soon as they could take their earliest lessons in it, was imi)ressed the consciousness of what their full share was to be in what we now call " women's right to labor." Their lords and masters never questioned that right, or interfered with it, except to see that it was fully exercised in doing all the work, the easy and the hard alike ; for the male Indian would not do a stroke of cither. The Indian women were not prolific ; their families were generally small. Their happy and indulgent hours were found in their groupings together on the grass or around the (ire, with their work in their hands and their tongues busy and free. The boys could gambol, play ball or other games, and ])raciise with their bows and fish-hooks. The girls were equally free until reaching their teens, and in some tribes never came mider any discipline of withdrawal or restraint till they became wives. The earnest and labo- rious efforts which have been made most effectively, in quite recent years, for the school education of young In- dians, have profited by a lesson of experience. Trials were made among them of schools after the usage of the whites, the children being gathered before their teachers at the school hours, and then left to return to their parents' lodges. No advance was made by this method, either in the intellectual training or the elevation of the pupils. Recourse is now had to boarding-schools, in which the children arc withdrawn from all the influences of their wild life, and are taught decorum, cleanliness, and self- respect, with the alphabet and primer. This is one of the hopeful methods of dealing with our Indian problem. CHAPTER IV. INDIAN TENURE OF LAND AS VIEWED BY EUROPEAN INVADERS AND COLONISTS. We arc in tlio habit of spoakino; of our sweep of territory on tliis continent as our " national domain." Its area, cxcln(lin-land and Wales tojjretlier is 37,531,722. Adding the areas of Ireland and Scotland, we have an acreage for the United Kingdom of 7(),842,9G5, or less than one twenty-fifth part of the territory governed by the United States on this continent. But Great Britain on the main and on the American islands has the control of territory exceeding our own by some sixty-two million acres. By the last census we have a population rising fifty mill- ions. Of these, about forty-three millions are whites, more than six millions have negro blood, and there are less than three hundred tliousand Indians, sixty or seventy thousand of whom are regarded as tamed and civilized, while a hun- dred thousand more are somewhat advanced in that pro- cess, being clothed, according with the ways of the whites, with some of our implements and resources. Less than fifty thousand of the natives are now regarded as violently hostile ; though many more of them, partially subdued and brought to terms, are restless, subject to outbreaks, and require constant and watcliful restraint and oversight. All 208 INDIAN TENURE OF LAND. k i of the natives may bo said — throuf^h pensions, supplies, or j]fratuitios — to share in the favors of our Government, or, as one may view tlie nuittcr, in compensation for the losses and wrongs suffered by them from the whites. It is computed tliat some fifteen hundred thousand square rnilcs of our territory are settled by a thriving [)opulation on homesteads, pursuing j)eacefully all the oecui)ations of industry and thrift. Nearly fifty million iu-rcs have been given by tlie riovernment as largesses to railroads, for their services in advancing surveys and opening the country. Other tracts of territory have been deeded for educational and agricultural institutions, and as bounties oi- ))ensi()ns to soldiers. There are estimated to be about two billions of acres of public lands, more or less perfectly surveyed and explored, in i)OSsession of the (Jovermnent. Our Government, representing a people tluit has well- nigh dispossessed and disi)laced the original occupants of our present domain, is for the present time under covenants, with various terms and conditions, to hold some one hun- dred and thi)"^y patches of this territory, as reservations, for the sole ownershij) and use of native triljos. About one hundred and fifty-six millions of acres, or two hundred and forty-three thousand square miles, are thus covenanted. I have just used the limitation, /or the present time, with a reason. Many of Hiose treaty covenants embrace the solemn phrase " for ever," as extending the term for which they were to be binding. But experience has shown that that phrase is practically inapplicable, and has to be quali- fied, reduced, and taken as limitable ; just as, in the dis- cussions of theologians and scripturists, the same phrase applied to the duration of future retributive punishment is argued by many to mean less than endlessness in the lapse of time. An examination of a digest of all the treaty covenants made by the Government with Indian tribes during its century of existence, will show very many re- visions and annulments of them, from necessity, emer- \ i SECURITIES OP LAND-TITLES. 209 gcncy, or the alloi^od stress of cinnniistancoa. Somotlnios these have been made with the full cfniscut and apfU'olja- tion of the tribes concerned in thcMn ; sometimes tiiey have been compelled to assent to them arn itself with its nominal subjects on this continent; and then it came in not so much for their benefit as from jealousy and hostility to France. France, on the otlier hand, lir 1 from the first reachi igs forth of its enterprise and its costly outlays over our seas and bays, our lakes and rivers, and the capacities of trade and commerce here, engaged the power and patnuuigc of its mouarchs and prime ministers, its nobles and its armies, to secure and im[)rove an inheri- tance on this broad continent. But when it yielded to British arms in a conflict substantially lasting through a century and a liaH', our (iovernment succeeded to such benefits and to such controversies and quarrels of the tem- porary dominion as were left here below our present boun- dary-line. If Francis of France, foi- the benefit of liis royal successors, had been provided for, as he thought he should have been, by a clause in Adam's will disj)osing of tliis continent, those successors would have been in no wise benefited by it. Wliatcver compunctions may be felt by any among us as to our method of dispossessing our aborigines, none such 212 INDIAN TENURE OP LAND. arc entertained about any advantage or property obtained in our victory over Great Britain. We rest witliout a single throb of conscience in the fullest enjoyment of them. Indeed, we are ready to i)ut the most indulgent construc- tion upon, and to strain to the fullest vindication which candor and justice will allow, the sort and right of tenure which Great Britain had enjoyed to the territory which we conquered from her. Our (rovernment is not responsible for trespass against tlie natural rights of the aborigines which Britain committed in following what it would call a law of Nature, after discovery. A striking illustration is found of the views of our Government on this matter in the course pursued by General St. Clair, when he went, in 1788, as governor of the Northwest Territory, to Fort riarmar, — Marietta, — at the confluence of the Muskingum and the Ohio, to enter into treaties with savages north and west of the latter river. When the savages com- plained that the whites were not willing to regard the river as a boundary, St. Clair flatly told them, that, as they had been allies of our British enemies in the war, they must meet as the consequence of defeat the loss of their lands. it is time for us now to tui'n to the aboriginal tribes, to inquire what had been and were their territorial rights before and while they were being ground in the mill by rival European nationalities, all intruders. What were the right and tenure by which the red men, on the first coming of Europeans as colonists to this con- tinent, are to be understood as holding the soil, either in localities by their several tribes, or as a race in possession of the whole territory ? Of course wo put out of sight all those terms — instruments, covenants, and constitutions — in use among nations, states, and municipalities under civil- ization, to deline their bounds and mark their jurisdiction. No state-paper oflices, no registries of deeds, no treaty sanc- tions even, have place in this question ; and only such cle- INDIAN POSSESSION BY CONQUEST. 213 ments of the common law as pertain to the simple rights of humanity can come into the argument. It has been assumed tliat on the first occasion of contact between the red man and the white man on each portion of this continent, as successively entered upon by colonists, the Indians then and there in occupancy — after their mode of use — had the full right of ownership, as if indigenous or lawful inheritors. Following the localities on the sea- board and the interior then occupied by tribes of tlie sav- ages, we might be tempted to identify them with such spots, and, assigning each tract to each party, might infer a long and secure occupancy, known and certified, so as to cover a complete title. But such a conclusion on our part would be wide of the mark. The right of any one tribe — or, as often loosely named, any one nation — of the savages to any particular region of territory here over which they roamed, or where they [)lantcd their cabins or cultivated their maize, Avas sim[)ly tlic right of present occupancy and possession. We can hardly, in any case known to us, say that it was a right of inheritance even, much less of continuity through genera- tions of this or that same stock identified with a particular locality. We draw upon our fancies somewhat, if not in excess, when we speak of the ancestral forests, lakes, streams, and mountains passing by inheritance through the generations of a tribe. Thoy were an Ishmaclitish race. The fact of possession was more often found througli conquest than through inheritance. We have positive his- torical knowledge, in a large number and in a wide variety of cases, of the transient occupancy of one or another re- gion by those whom the white men found upon it. The aborigines were in a chronic state of civil war. The war- path for them alternated with the hunting-path, though both paths often were on the same route. Tiieir wars were for conquest, for revenge, for self-defence, and not infre- quently ended only in the extermination of one party, I lilt 214 INDIAN TENURE OP LAND. the sparse remnant left being adopted into the tribe of the conquerors. Such had been the state of things before the coming of the whites, and it has so continued to our own times. It was not till more than a century after the whites had formed permanent settlements on the Atlantic and the Ca- nadian borders of this continent that they knew anything positively about the extent and manner of its occupancy by native tribes in the interior. The natural inference, in the absence of knowledge, was that the interior was occu- pied very much as were the borders, — by the same sort of sparse and roaming tribes, each claiming the spaces and regions over which they hunted, or where they I'cared their lodges and i)lanted their maize ; so that in effect the riglits of savagery, such as they were, covered substantially our whole i)resent domain. This inference, too, was a part of the assumption that there were many millions of natives spread over the continent. Actual exploration, positive knowledge, and better-grounded inferoiicuo have greatly modified the views assumed when these vast realms were all shadowed by the mystery of the unknown. Those su|> posed millions in our native forests have been i*educed by well-informed inquirers to only three, and again to only one million, and even to a much diminished estimate. The better we have become informed about the numbers and the conditions of life of existing savage tribes, the more unreasonable seems to us a large estimate of the numbers of their predecessors. The fancy that our vast interior spaces, with thoir lakes and river-courses, their valleys, plains, and meadows, were all parcelled out and occupied, after their fashion, by our native tribes, has yielded to assured facts of proved incon- sistency with it. Tribes vanquished near the seaboard and on our lake-shores were always able to find a refuge in unoccupied territory. The whole of Kentucky, when the white pioneers explored it, was tenantless, unclaimed, THE CONTINENT THINLY POPULATED. 215 ' crossed only as it might have bccM by war-parties on their raids beyond its bounds. Enormous reaches of Upper Canada, and large parts of the present States bordering on the south of the gieat lakes, had no human tenants; one might roam in them for weeks and liud no trace of man. It has been intelligently affirmed that just before our Revolutionary War tlie number of Indian warriors between the ocean and the Mississippi, and between Lake Superior and the Ohio, did not exceed ten thousand. If the theories drawn from the examination of the Western earth-mounds have good reasons to sui)})ort them, an unmeasured length of time had i)assed since their disuse and desertion. How- ever populous the regions around them may once have been, they had long been lonely and tenantless. These theories, in connection with otliers of the archaeologists, trace suc- cessive con([uests from north to south and fi'om south to north, sweeping over these midland territories, causing them at last to be turned to solitudes. Epidemic diseases also may have ravaged ovei* those long reaches of the interior, and nearly or entirely dci)opulated them. Never in a single case within the last century, when white men have first come to the knowledge of remote tribes, have they been found to be very numerous. As successively the tril)cs have moved l)ack from our frontiers into farther spaces, they have, till (piite recent years, always found sufficient wild territory for tlieir own habits, where they could go undis- turbed; or, if meeting with any already roaming there, foiuid them to be so few that there was no crowding. The tradi- tions of many tribes also jjreserve relations of voluntary migrations made by them, iudependoutly of any catas- trophes of war, and merely for bettering their condition. The abundance of the game in former centuries, when com- pared with its ra))idly increasing scarcity in recent years, would indicate that it was not of old drawn upon for any vast number of consumers. In the lack, therefore, of the more positive knowledge which is out of our reach, there m 216 INDIAN TENURE OP LAND. are reasonable grounds for the belief, that, when the Europeans arrived, tlierc were no vast multitudes of na- tives here, and that they could not have appropriated the whole contiiient. The stateuKMit may be stronl(!d tribes. In 1822, in a talk with the missionary Comi)ere, IJig Warrior, the chief of tlic Creek Confederacy, boasted of their prowess in con(iucrin useful to them than they could be to each other. AVIieii in l*hilii)'s war tlio nohlc; Canon- chct, a saehem of (he Xarra on condi- tion of the submission of his tribe. Refusint? the condition lie was sentenced to be shot. The English sought to in- sure the future fidelity of their allied tribes against any vengeful feeling for his execution by making them, after a sort, parties to it. So the subjugated Pequots were made to shoot him; the ^lohicans to cut off his head and rpiarter him; the Niantic^s to burn his Itody; and tlien his head was sent to the Hnglish eommissioners at llarti'ord as "a token of love." And when the time for it came, the Indians were always ready to make alliances with rival and warring colo- nists, to the sacrifice of their own eonnnon interests. Even on the Island of Nantucket, on the first coming of the whites, there were two Indian tribes at feud; and Philip claimed tribute there. Yet had it been tlie fact that each and every tribe of Indians found in oceui)ancy here had secured its tract of territory by conquest from some other tribe, at any pre- vious interval of time near or remote, and tliat the Euro- peans were aware of it, this fact alone could not in the view of the latter have proved that the possessors had no right- ful tenure on such soil. Rights obtained by conquest were recognized in what we call the code of natural law. The estors of all the Euroi)cans who disj)0ssesscd our al)orig- los had, to a greater or less extent, acceded to the lands held by them in the same way of conquest. Never in any case have the whites on this continent undertaken to drive off any tribe in transient occupancy of a particular region for the purpose of restoring it to those who formerly held it. It has been always for their own possession and use that Europeans have induced or compelled the natives to yield LAND RIGHTS OK NOMADS. 223 their mienossivo roHliiifr ))laoos, and to movn on. So tliiit though (h(! whites hiive on all occasions niado the must of th(! pU'a that they only spoiled spoilers, it is plain that this alone would not have boon relied ujjon as justifying them in disputing the sulliciency of the aboriginal tenure of ter- ritory. Looking beyond this, therefore, we liud that there were two other grounds of defence and of privilege as- sumed Ity th(^ FiUropeans: first, some shape of the assump- tion thiit the heathenism of the Indians impaii'ed (heir natural rights; and seeoiul, that they made no such use and improvement of the soil as to secure a title to it. The tenure of land among the ancient and some modern migratory hordes of the Eastern World was similarly loose and undcrincd with that of our aborigines. When the Israelites wislied to justify their eon(iuest of Canaan, they said that they were only reclaiming an old ancestral pos- session, of which in tlie absence of written title-deeds there were three expressive tokens, — the altar on the hill of Bethel, the well of Jacob, and the family sepulchre in the field of Machpelah. It would 1)0 irrelevant to quote here, and to institute an application of, the principles advanced in the treatises of Maine and other recent publicists on the conditions regulat- ing, or rather allowing, the occupancy and use of wild land by wild men, as they simply follow the law of Nature, per- sonal liberty, and impulses of their own, in roaming or resting here or there. The principles of natural law may suggest the theories which are to be drawn from or applied to the kind of tenure to territory thus claimed or held. But the theories, after all, have to be constructed from the facts in any instance of large application. In the case of our own aborigines Ave have as signal and significant a one as could bo proposed for a precedent. All the conditions which could ever present themselves together for raising all the terms of the question as to the natural and acquired rights of barbarians found in temporary occupancy of wild 224 INDIAN TENURE OF LAND. 1'^^ territory, were necessarily met here ; and the way in which the whites viewed claims founded on those assumed rights, presents tlie other side of the prohlcm. As we have already seen, some of the Europeans — the Spaniards — utterly de- spised such rights, never giving the least heed or deference to them; others of the Europeans — the French — did not find it necessary for their purposes to bring them under controversy or discussion. Either of these two courses miglit be pronounced as consistent as they were conven- ient, in avert' % all complications of argument or arbitra- tion. But the English colonists, as we shall see, did not follow the example either of the Spaniards or the French. They adopted views and pursued courses distinctively their own as to the recognition of and dealing with the assumed rights of the savages on tliis wild territory. Their way of dealing with the matter, if not their opinions about it, was not consistent, but vacillating and variable, adjusting itself to circumstances. And this inconsistent course, adopted from the first by the English, has run down through our whole history, and is really at the root of the worst per- plexities and embarrassments entailed upon our Govern- ment in its dealings with the Indians. The inconsistency was in admitting certain natural rights of the natives without defining tlicm, and then trifling with them by a vacillating policy. The claim of the disciples of the Roman Church was, as we have seen, absolute in this matter ; and, practically, the course pursued by the Protestants — though they would have pleaded that they were driven to it by stress of cir- cumstances in their self-defence — at first proceeded u|)0u the assumption of tiie same claim, though it war soon modified. When Francis J. of France had reminded him- self that, ii' Adam had made a will, a portion of the New World which the Pope had given over in a lump to the monarchs of Spain and Portugal would have fallen to him, he determined to act on the reasonable supposition and to ^ ROYAL DONATIONS OP TERRITORY. 225 claim his share in the spoils of the heathen, and sent Verra- zano, in 1524, to ])ick up the leavings. Verrazano made three voyages, and planted the arms of France from the Mississippi to the St. Lawrence. Though the hull of Pope Paul 111. had pronounced the natives here to he real mcyi, not monkeys, — '■^ ntpote veros homines" — Francis, in his Commission, declared them to be " savages living without the knowledge of God and without the use of reason." His successor, Henry IV., wrote : " We have undertaken, with the help of God, — the Author, Distributor, and Pro- tector of all kingdoms and states, — to guide, instruct, and convert to Chrisiianity and the belief of our holy faith the inhabitants of that country, who are barbarians, atheists, devoid of religion," etc. So the Marquis De la Roche was apj)ointed viceroy here in 1598 ; but he brought over for this work of conversion only fifty felons from the prisons, and no clergymen. A similar commission was given in IGOl to M. Chau- vin, who was ordered to spread the Catholic faith over North America. But he was a Calvinist. He collected peltry, in which he did a profitable business, and left the missionary work unattempted. In all the subsequent en- terprises of the French for colonization and empire here, according to the patronage under which each of them was pursued, there was an alternation of preponderance given to secular or sacred oi)jects to be advanced. As in all worldly interests, according to the Scripture text never challenged, " Money answereth all things," the support of mission work depended upon thrift in trade. Though (he tralTickers in brandy and peltry were often brought into collision with the priests, the parties which both of them represented were considered as ecjually essential to the success of each successive enterprise ; so that, as we have said, it was not thought necessary to ask leave of residence or grant of territory. Whether the French monarch con- ferred his vast gift of geometrically bounded spaces and. 15 Ifj h til - i ! < l!',. • 226 INDIAN TENURE OF LAND. reaches of dominion, of island or continent, on individuals or companies, he never gave a thought to extinguishing an Indian title, or perplexing himself with the tenure by which the aborigines held the regions given away so lav- ishly by him,^ When on the expansion of our population by pioneer emigration from Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Kentucky, the Americans came into liostile relations with the old French posts beyond the Ohio, they assumed that, having conquered the French and the English, they might take possession of any territory previously held by them. The British from Canada, and such of them as still lingered holding the lake and river posts, inider tlie chagrin of their defeat endeavored to instigate many Indian tribes into a conspiracy against the inflowing emigrants. Tliey also prompted the Indiuas to aflirm that the Englisli had never received any deeds or titles to tlie disputed lands. These controversies were more or less satisfactorily disposed of by new treaties, beginning witli that of Fort Harmar. But when the emigration reached tlie farther Frencli posts, the plea was that tlie French had never really owned any terri- tory there, but had set up their trading-houses and mis- sions merely by allowance, — neither receiving nor asking formal covenants to do so, — and thus had ncA'er acquired a permanent title to the soil. Tlie theory under which Europeans came and took pos- session of parts of this continent, and have lieeu led by the development of circun itauces to claim the whole of it, was in their view a very simple one. So far as regarded any rival (picstions among themselves, the right of occupancy was admitted to be founded upon discovery, confirmed by act- ual entry upon any defined portion of the territory. This was the political element of the right. But as regards the 1 I liavo a note of a quotation from Lninartinr, tliougli I Iiavo misplaced the reference to it, in these words: "Le globe est la propricte de Thomme; le nouveau continent, I'Amorique, est la propriety do I'Kurope," EUROPEAN RIGHT TO AMERICA. 227 I moral right, involving a dispossession of human beings then occupying the soil, a full justification was found in a more or less emphasized assertion of a divine preroga- tive of Christians over and against all heathendom. Very rarely, and always ineffectually, was this sweeping claim challenged or discredited. Roger Williams, from the first and always a radical champion of the natural rights of all men, struck at what he regarded as the fundamental false- hood involved in this claim when he denied the right of a Christian sovereign to give a patent to the territory of the natives on the ground of their heing heathens. He wrote in his " Key," etc., that it was " a sinful opinion amongst many, that Christians have right to heathen lands." Wil- liams's fellow Rhode Islander, Coddington, wrote from Newport to Massachusetts, in 1(340, a letter from his com- panions, in wliich, as Winthrop says, the Rhode Islanders "declared their dislike of such as would have the Iiulians rooted out as being of the cursed race of Ilam ; and their desire of our mutual accord in seeking to gain them hy justice and kindness, and withal to watch over them to prevent any danger by them." The Friends, or early Quakers, also stood for the natural rights of the savages. In Penn's inteniew — as he was about leaving England — with Charles XL, the King asked him what would prevent his getting into the savages' war- kettle, as a savory meal for them. I'enu rei)lied: "Their own inner light. Moreover, as 1 intend eipiitably to buy their lands, 1 shall not be molested." " IJuy their lands!" said the amazed monarch ; " why, is not the whole land mine ?" " No, your Majesty," answered Penn. " We have no right to their Ian \s ; they are the original occupants of the soil." "What! have I not the right of discovery?" asked Charles. " Well," said Penn, "just suppose that a canoe full of savages should l)y some accident discover Creat IJritain : would you vacate or sell ?" Yet Charles's great predecessor, William tlie Conqueror, when he 228 INDIAN TENURE OP LAND. I. I- ,1 stepped on the English sliore, said lie " took seisin of the land." If the Indians could have been parties to the argument and discussions as to their natural rights compared with those of European sovereigns whose mariners discovered the continent, they might have suggested that if their pos- session of the continent, though only as roamers over it, did not assure their ownership, certainly the mere skirting of its ocean-shores by a crew of foreign sailors did not confer a better title. But these exceptional pleas for the native rights of the savages, as human beings, in the soil which they occupied, were but feeble in view of the prejudgment of the case in favor of the prerogative of Christians over heathen. The claim as to the reduction of the native tribes to the state of subjects of the monarch to whom the settlers among them owed allegiance seems to have been very distinctly and warmly contested by King Philip, in the contentions between him and the authorities of Plymouth and Jilassa- chusetts. Practically, these authorities acted as if they acceded, as by commission or otherwise, to the functions of the crown over the Indians. Even the natives nniy have appreciated a difference between being subjects of the King of England and being subjects of his subjects. It was es- pecially aggravating to the haughty sachem Philip and his fellows to bo summoned as culprit subjects to the colony courts; nor was their irritation relieved at being told that these courts were representing a foreign crown. The chiefs also complained that their own people were thus drawn from their former allegiance to themselves as sachems. Tliey said the whites had no right to intrude themselves bctweeii them and their people, or to interfere witii their jurisdiction in their forest domains ; nor had the whites, unless their intervention was asked by both parties, any justification for intermeddling between Indians and Indians. The whites had sentenced and hung one of Philip's Indians INDIANS SUBJECTS OP EUROPEAN MONARCHS. 229 h for killing another of them : Philip insisted that in this case the administration of justice should have been left to him. When Philip once proposed an arbitration on the difficulties, which had become aggravated, between him and his white neighbors, doubting their impartiality, he urged that the (Jovernor of New York and an Indian king should be the umpires. He was willing to take his place and hold his rank with those who held the highest aut!\ority as repre- senting the English crown ; but he could not be made to understand or to approve the process by which he who liad been obeyed as a sovereign over his own people, previous to the coming of the white men, was reduced before a petty colonial magistrate into the condition of one of his own subjects before himself. T the Europeans, however, there was a logical consequence hi this reduction of Indian chief- tains to the sti:.'tion, and put in force everything that followed from it. When the great circumnavigator, Sir Francis Drake, entered the harbor of San Francisco and explored it, — not knowing that the Sf)aniards had preceded him, — he took possession for the crown of England, and called the country " New Albion." The natives were (piiet and friendly. They wore feather head-dresses, somewhat iis I ■ r,' i 11 I -J 280 INDIAN TENURE OP LAND. after the fashion of a crown. One of the chiefs giving Drake this " emblem of royalty," he interpreted the act as an abdication of sovereignty in favor of Queen Elizabeth. In some cases tliere was a degree of formality in the methods by which the European intruders sought to make intelligible to the natives the fact — whether admitted by them or denied — that they were henceforward subjects of monarchs across the salt sea. It must liave mystified the aborigines, till use had emp- tied the phrase of meaning, to be told that the king of Spain, of France, or of England was their Great Father. A pretty fair test ^^r measuring the relative manliness and native spirit of diii'erent forest chieftains might be found in the attitude in which they placed themselves, secretly or avowedly, towards the sentence announcing to them their bounden duty of subjection, allegiance, and loyalty to a foreign superior. Some chieftains, with their tribes, allowed it to pass unchallenged, especially when it assured to them the desired material aid of their European guests in their own internecine strifes. Others made no open re- monstrance, content that silence should conceal their dis- dain at the assum|)tion. Some, however, there were who from the first doubted the grounds of it, and as tliey gradu- ally came to understand what the assertion of their subject state signified, and what it carried with it, stoutly and resolutely repudiated tlie claim. This was emi)hatica]Iy the case with each of the successive Indian chieftains known in our history as the master-minds among ordinary savages, who sought to coml)ine their tribes for rooting out the white man. Philip, Pontiac, and Tecumseh were the patriots of their race. Instead of attempting to indicate in any precise terms the view which Europeans, in antici[)ation and at their first coming, took of the righto of tenancy and occupancy of the savages on this continent, let us come to the concep- tion which we wish to reach, by stating the actual result, PREROGATIVES OP CIVILIZATIOiN. 231 . n either of tlieory or practice, in tlie disposal of the whole question by the whites. We can afterwards acquaint our- selves with any terms or bargains by which the English alone of all the colonists, with a slight exception for the Dutch and the Swedes, appear to have qualified their gen- eral assunq)tion that the Indians had no territorial rights whatever. In treating in later pages upon the sul)jcct of the cession made by Indian chiefs or tribes of portions of territory, — by private bargain, covenant, or formal treaty transfer, — we shall have occasion to note what were the Indians' views of their land tenure, and whnt was the valuation which they set or allowed the white man to set upon the property surrendered. The result of the white man's view of the tenure of the natives to the soil, as wc are to attempt to define it, was, — as we see it now over the larger part of this continent, and as coming generations will surely sec over the remainder of it, — tliis, the succession of the civilized white man, or possibly the civilized Indian, to the savage red man in occu{)ying it. This was from the first, and will be, inevi- table. The nature and constitution of things, as we say, decide it. According to our preference of thought and j)hrase, we may assert either that fate compelled or that a wise Providence decreed it. The reasoning was as fol- lows : If the eartli and man have the relation of place and occupant to each other, then each portion of the earth and the whole of it will belong to those men whose best use of it will give them the mastery of it. If this earth is to sui>- port human life, then the extending and increasing needs of man must decide the conditions under which it shall be populated and ruled. If the magnificent resources of this continent, instead of l)eing unused or wasted, were to be turned to the account of man's subsistence, improve- ment, development, and general welfare, then certainly the red man's habits and ways of life must give place to those of the white man. All our regrets and reproaches, — our I i 232 INDIAN TENURE OP LAND. VvJ u n' , i 1 laments over tlie jj^ricvoua wroiifijs inflicted upon the sav- ages, and our rei)r()aches upon our ancestors here or upon the continuous course of our Government in its dealings with the natives, — all these complaints and censures must attach only to the process, the way, the attendant acts and methods, by which the savages have been despoiled and the whites have come into possession. Let the statement just made be strictly limited, lest it be supposed to exaggerate a plea or to j)rejudice it. It urges only and simply the fair judgment, that the white man's uses of this continent rightfully succeed to and displace the red num's uses of it. This is not saying, nor necessarily implying, that the white man should displace ajul exterminate the red man. Quite other and far less simple and well-grounded reasoning and argument and dealing with facts and principles come in, when, from standing for the fair uses of enormous ))ortions of the earth's territory, we pass to the treatment of those who were found in occuj)ancy of it. It is not strange that the general and popular judgment of the inevitableness of the result — namely, the displace- ment of the natives of the soil — should attach the same character of necessity and fate to the means by which the result has been brought about ; and should urge that every successive step and act, however harsh or cruel or ruth- less, by which the savages have been pressed or crushed or slaughtered, is to be ascribed to the stern com])ulsion of circumstances. Of late years at least, a far more discrimi- nating and considerate view has been taken of the object to be realized, as involving one or another method for reaching it. The conviction is now as firmly cherished through our nation at large as it ever was by the most ruthless body of the earliest colonists, that the land must be rid of savages ; even the most remote regions now occupied by them nuist sooner or later iind in them tamed and civilized inhabitants. While this conviction holds un- qualified, civilization is substituted for extermination as the I I CIVILIZATION AGAINST BARBARISM. 233 method for realizing the conviction. The last Report of the United States Commissioner for Indian Affairs (1881) is emphatic on this point, lie says : — " Tliero is no one who luis been a close observer of Indian history and the ellcut of contact of Indians witli civilization, wlio is not well satisfied that one of two things must eventually take place ; to wit, cither civilization or extermination of the Indian. Savage and civilized life cannot live and prosper on the same ground. One of the two must die. If the Indians are to be civilized and become a happy and prosperous people, which is ccrtaiidy the ob- ject and intention of our (lovernment, they must learn our language and adopt our modes of life. "NV'e are fifty millions oi people, and they are only one fourth of one million. The few must yield to the many." Antici|)ating a matter Avliicli will demand our deliberate notice farther on, the Commissioner adds, that, as we can- not expect the Indians to abandon their own and to adopt our habits of life while we carry victuals and clothes to their reservations, we must compel them to work for a sub- sistence as we ourselves do. Happily for all who desire to view this momentous and profoundly interesting question with the utmost candor and intelligence, not forgetful of all humane sentiments, the question is not one that concerns merely the long or the recent past in our country. On the contrary the right, the just, the wise, the expedient, the best possible way in which the civilized whites as a people, and through their govermnent, can and ought to deal with the original, native, and savage occupants of our territory is one of the most living and exciting and serious questions of our day. The perplexing issues on the trial of which we have had two and a half centuries of practical experience have never been settled, and are open to-day. This experience seems to have made us no wiser; it has not introduced any essentially new elements for our guidance, nor relieved the sadness and the suffering and the injustice which in- h» 284 INDIAN TENURE OP LAND. vest tlie whole subject before us. Substantially the same course which the white men first pursued towards the na- tives, when in feeble companies of way-worn adventurers and colonists they invaded the soil, has followed on step by step, as a mi<>hty nation, swarming to half a hundred millions, with all its increase of power and hiuutinity, has pushed its frontiers into savage domains steadily and as resistless as the flow of its own river torrents. To revert to the point first stated, — the right of civilized man to succeed to wild territory occu])ied by savages, — de- ferring for the present the sul)ject of the treatment of its occupants. We admit the right of human beings on occupying wild territory to exterminate all noxious ver- min and wild beasts, to cut down forests, to dam streams, and to do everything else on and with the soil to make it secure and haliitalde. An arresting scruple comes in when this right is inferred to include or to justify the allowance that a more civilized or powerful body of new comers may tramijle upon, drive off, or sul)jugate an in- ferior race occuj»ying the territory. Now i)ractically, with a fair, frank avowal, we may as well make short work of all ingenious pleadings and subterfuges here, and speak right out the historic fact, — the fact of to-day, — that the white man made a logical syllogism which connected his right to improve the soil with his way of treating the Indians ; namely, he satisfied himself that the savages were a part of the vermin and wild beasts which he was justified in removing, and comjielled to remove, before the territory would serve its use. However wide oft' from this view any of the early colonists here may have been, no candid j)erson can deny that the view steadily came to iill the eye and mind of those whom we should have thought would have been most shocked by it. From the first European occupancy of this continent up to these recent years when it has been sternly rebuked, the basis, the real root, of every assumption and justifica- l\ INDIANS REGARDED AS VERMIN. 286 tion involved in our treatment of tlio Indians proceeded upon this opinion or belief, — that they are in fact simply a part of the vermin and wild beasts which must be ex- ternuuated in order that the territory may be habitablo by civili/ed man. There are inliiiitcdy varied degrees of frankness and fulness in which that radical and sweej)- in<5 opinion may be held or e.\i)rcssed. Those who have successively encountered the perils and massacres of fron- tier life (pioneers and Indian file hy civilized luunan heini^s, it is hut fair that we examine the reasons or the evidence which the white man had for cominj^ to that opinion. And fairness rccpiircs the statement that the Avhite man did not bcjriu his intercourse with the natives with that i)rejudued view of them. That opinion was not a theory to start from, — certainly not with the leadinij; l']nj2:lish colonists. Somt; of the earliest intercourse of the l']ii<>lish more especially, hut also of the French and Dutch comers here, with individual natives or with rly thwarted and wasted. More than two centuries of more or less considerate scheming and working for the Indians, as tractable and im|>rovabIe human l)eings, have been demonsti'ated to be failin-es. Stress is laid upon this very significant aflirmation, that thos(> who w(>re found living on this whole continent from the first coming of the whites down to this day, so far from showing among them any self-working proc(»ss of im- provement or development of manhood, have been steadily deteriorating; and thaf, on the whole, — leaving out of view the v/rongs inflicted on the Indians by the whites, even < REASONS FOR DISPOSSESSING THE NATIVES. 239 if wrong and outrairc liavc prodominatod in tliat troatmont, — evervtliiuLr wliicii tlir wliiti's iuivc sinccn'ly, Imiuancly, and intelligently intended tor their benelit has invarialdy been a bane and an injury to then-, — depriving theni of their wild virility, and reducing tiiem to a mean, abject, and grovelling ineonipetency or idioe ■. I'nder the inlhi- onees of civilization which have come the nearest to taming the Indian, it is allii'mcd that he always exhibits those reversionary characteristics shown liy tliat species of dog among the Ksipiimaux which is a domesticafcil wolf: lie exciianges a howl for a bark. More than this, intelligent and humane oiiservei's have remarked that tla* same indu- cnces and means which advance the white; man in steady progress and accumulating <:o()d, have a d(>teriorating and pernicious elTect upon the Indians. The enormous amount of materiids and helps for impi'oving the condition of the Indians which our ( Jovei'nment, for instance, has supplied, — im|)lements and tools for husltandry and domestic tlirift, stock-cattle, goods of every kind, — have Itcen Wiiste(l on nnappreciative and swinish receiv ., and have simply re- sulted in pauperizing them and making them more la/y. The cooking-stoves, frying-pans, and (»ther liki; utensils which have been sent into the Indian country by the hun- dre(l thousand to prompt the s(|uaws to improve their housewifery, and which careful white matrons pride them- selves upon burnishing and keeping for a lifetime, rust out from lillh and neglect in a few days of use. It was then thi'ough force of the rciisons following that the whites, as soon as they became accpuiinted with the facts about the Indians, justilied themselves in takinir pos- session of the wild territory (iccupled by them: — 1. 'i'hey fomid the native tiilies in a stale of internecine condict, lighting with, sul>d ling, and exterminating each other. 2. They satislied themselves tlud no one tribe on the locality on will'*'- ^r the timu being it happened, so to 240 INDIAN TENURE OF LAND. t; u speak, to be encamped, liail any lonjjj-securcd and enjoyed ancestral right of domain upon it ; tlioy simply occupied it from stress of circumstance oi- by result of confjuest. 3. They failed to see any sij^ns of improvement or better- ment on the soil, marking mi appropriated ownei-ship ; no dwelling, no fence, no well, no stable token of jjroprietor- ship appeared. The wild rovers or 'tampers left no other trace of themselves than does a horde of buffaloes or a pack of wolves. 4. Very early in the civilized occupancy of this country the conviction rooted itself that there was no ])ossibility of a joint and peaceful occupancy by the two races. No cor- don could keep them apart; one of the two, the civilized or the barbarian, must have the whole or none. Having reached the conclusion that the right of local tribes to portions of the territory on which the white men found them was the right of actual possession or occu- pancy for different and ind Indituis. The colonists of New England from tin* first settlement, as individuals and in towns, did consider it a matter of duty, or security, to obtain conveyances of land-titles from the savaires. By what right did a petty sachem or a tribal • chief deed away and alienate the lan disjMitcMl as invalid within a very short time after they had been made, and that a claim was afterwards advanced by the re|)resentative8 of foreign sovor- I! ATTESTATION OP INDIAN DEEDS. 241 oigna that all dcods to land hero made by the Indians were worthless. Tlie theory beinji; that all wild territory discov- ered by a subject vested in his monarch, the inference was (h-awn that all subdivisions of it, large or small, needed the royal sanction to convey possession of them. (Jovcrnor An- dres threw all the people of Massnchusetts into a panic by asserting this doctrine. Lands held here directly from the Indians by deed to an individual, or by partitions of a town- ship through the same sort of instruments, might even have the sanction of the (Jeneral Court of the colony ; but as that court had acted illegally by illegal use of the char- ter, and the charter had l)een vacated, all proceedings un- der it were null. The trei)idation of the disfranchised and non-suited Puritan folk was intense till they stitlened them- selves to assert their rights of possession by purchase and improvement. Andros's doctrine wouUl have left their tenuie of the soil hardly any firmer than was that of the Indian. In vnrious parts of the older settlements of the country, preserved among the towns' records or in the cabinets of indivi(hial housekeepers, are cherished deeds and instru- ments of conveyance from the Iiidinns, which tiiose who hold them ri'gard as something more thiin men; curiosities. Tliey aie held in many cases as evidences of an honest, humane, and generous puriwse on the i)art of niiigistrates or ancestors to recognize the natural territorial rights of tliose found on the soil. The efforts to attest these instru- ments by the generous use of Knglish letters in un|)ro- nounceable Indian niimes for persons and for |)laces, and the "armorial bearings," as La Ilontan would call them, of the chiefs, eerlify at least to their anlii|uity. Many a New Kngland i'armer, showing his rough acres to a visitor, will .say couiplacently, "Our family hold this estate from the Indians." The next (piestion in order is this : When an Indian executed a deed of land to white men, what rights of his IG 242 INDIAN TENURE OP LAND. i 1 i i ( t j f own did ho consider that he yickled up or parted with, and what ri^iits did lie intend to transfer to the pur- chaser? We must remember tliat tlie hmd in all cases was without improvements, clearings, feneinjrs, wells, or build- ings. It was in its wild state of nature. Curiously enough, the actual testing of the transactions between the seller and the purchaser in such cases showed what the Indian thought he was doing when he sold his land. The mcjment tl'c white man changed this wild state of nature and began to make improvements u[)on it, the Indian regretted and tried to retract his trail •'"er of it. It would seem that he had intended to allow tlie white man a right of joint occu- pancy with hims(!lf, using the facilities of the region in common. The Indians had no idea of moving olf to a dis- tance and keei)ing away from the fields of the white men. Nor did they generally do so. Tlioy came and went as before, loitered about, occasionally got yyhs of work and food, and they were always accessil)le. Nearly half a cen- tury after the settlement of Boston and scores of towns around it, the Ajiostle Eliot found Indians enough to oc- cupy a dozen towns of their own within thirty miles. It conies at last to this. The white man's uses of terri- tory are always and everywhere iiicompatil)le with the red man's uses of it; and the white man's uses nullify and destroy the red man's. The issue, turned to plain fac^t, is this, — the r(>d man must consent to make common and joint use of territory with the habits of the white man, or he must give way to the whiti^ man. A railroa I track, a mail route, a telegraph wire passing through a wilderness, puts an interdict upon tlie savage and claims the territory for civilization. Tlir comity of nations, independent and jealous in their sovcn'ignty, does not f(M'bid those links and fibres of trsinsit and intercourse. The untained ocean allows tiiem, and the wild red hunter must not prohibit them. Here is the central turning-point of all the strug- gle between civilization and barbarism. King Philip begau I 1 INDIAN RIGHTS NEVER DEFINED. 243 with comi)laints of tlie white man's foncos at Plymouth ; the saviigos on our evor-sliii'tiu^ frontiers eom|)lain that the white nuin's survey inji i)arties, engineers, and miners fri his f.'anu' lie must jj^o with it. All the theories ahout the ri<;hl8 of savaire occupants of unimproved territory, all the i>rin- ciples of natural law ario- neer, would ever have stoutly denied that the Iiulians were entitled to some sort of a heritage here; but in all tlie pages referiing more (U* less dii-ectly to the subject which have jtassed under my eye, 1 have never met with a (dearly delined and positive, however limited, statement of what precisely that right was and is. Nor would such a state- ment even in the forni of a legal de(inition, and alhtivcd as a precedent, have proved practically to carry authority with it, as it would in all eases l)e held to be subject to tlie finalification that it must in no case permanently iin[»air the prerogiitive of civili/atiun over barbarism. According to the nattu'al features and prodiu-ts of dif- ferent regions, competent authorities have made and war- ranted this estimate, — that an extent of from si.\ thousand to lifty thousand acres (that is, more than seven sipiare 244 INDIAN TENURR OP LAND. miles) is nocossary for the support in liis way of life of a single Indian with his family. And tlio land must be and continue in a perfectly wild state; — of forest, meadow, swam]), coverts, and streams — that it may shelter and subsist all the creatures which live on each other, and then serve the Indian. The ax(> must never be heard in those deep forest recesses ; the streams nuist not be dammed at the peril of the fish-ways; the scent of humanity must not need- lessly taint the air; the tinkle of a cow-bell is a nuisance, and the restless enterprise of the white man is a fatality. No inapt illustration of the coutrasted uses of territory by the red man and the white man may be surte(l itself in refer(Mu;e to the actual laud- tenure of the mitives. The most hopeful solution for all our difliculties is said to olTer in dividing ludiau lands, breaking up all tribal communes, and assigning to each person a severalty of possession to be for a term of years inalienable. At present the United States holds in Reser- vations some one hundred and fifty-six millions of acres for an estimated population of two hundred and sixty- two thousand Indians. Any one who pleases may cast the sum as to the numi)cr of acres which would fall to FREE RANGE FOR A SAVAGE. 245 ?• i K each out of this commonalty. This baronial ownership of territory it is j)ro|)ose(i largely to reduce. The space which is by common agreement thouglit both e(|uitable and pnu'ti(;al!y expedient to assign to each Indian for fixed occupancy and improvement by his own forced or volun- tary labor, is one hundred and sixty acres, — leaving (he rf'maining undivided part of each Reservation as a common stock for investment for the whole tribe. If this scheme should take effect, with assured and recorded legal guaran- tees, it would prove the first real recognition ever made of land-tenure for our aborigiiu's. This estimate that iuis l)ecn made of the number of acres of wild forest-spacc! required for the range of each single sav- age, even if allowed to include provision for his scjuaw and his pappooses, would not even then in all f)ortions of the continent suflice for the maintenance of those dependent in a wasteful way upon it, for all the seasons of the year. In most parts of this country the Indians have always bci-n comp('ll(Ml oi- prompted to lead a more or less nomadi(! life. When they are induced to move from one region wlusre game has become scarce in order to seek it in another, thoy imist be able to find such another cipuilly wild region in nv serve for them. The deer, the elk, the moose, the bear, and many small animals were their favorite food. The wolf and tile cougar were oftener ht alone than molested. .Maize was necessarily relieil upon by natives not living within the range of the buffalo, for winter's use, and as a very small store of it was easily carried on their tramps. It was at best but dry and hard though nutritious food. Parched and |)oun(led, a handful of grains of it mixed with water, either with or without the help of further cooking, w(»uld, aswehaio noticed, sustain an Indian for a long journey. There is a favorite dish prepared l»y old-fashioned New England households, of boiled green corn and l)eans, known by the nume of " Succotash " ' as coming to us from the ^ Fmui thu ^iuniiguiitiett luiiguuge. 246 INDIAN TENURE OP LAND. m i liulians. Rut wo should uot much rclisli a dish which a scjuaw might have cooked for uh under that name ; wo shouhl have missed the huttor and the salt, of which the Indians knew nothing. Fish too, caught in a rudo way from full waters, was a resource at some seasons. We must rememher, too, that the Indians used the fur- beai'ing animals only for their own moderate needs, and did not reciuire any such numlun- of them as would threaten their extermination. The rapacity and (!omnu!rcial sj)irit of the Europeans at once turned the skins of the hear, tiio deer, the beaver, the fox, the marten, the otter, and the buffalo into articles coveted for trallic. From the first colonization a wasting raid has been made u})on these ani- mals by the whites, utterly exhausting the near supply, and compelling the Indians — for their own needs and for l)ar- ter sale — to move dce])er and deeper into the wilderness. Much of their land which the whites have occupied had been abandoned by the Indians, and much more has been readily sold by them as useless for their purposes. Indeed soil, forest, valley, and meadow and stream, represent (piitc different capacities and values to the red man and the whit(> man. And if no violent dealing were spent on the Indians, the steady wasting of their old game would [)ut a period to their way of life. We have also to take into account the fact, tliat vastly the larger portion of the Indians now on the continent, even the wildest of them, have become, in dilTercnt degrees, de- pendent u])on help and resources for subsistence furnished to them by the whites. I have already made mention of the fact, that, among the vast variety and divergency of views which hav(! found expression concerning the whole rela- tions between the Europeans and the Indians on our north- ern continent, the ixdd opinion has been advanced that the savages have on the whole found a balance of advantages and beneiits from our intercourse with them. If there is a shadow of truth to warrant that eccentric assertion as I K i GOVERNMENT SUPPLIES TO INDIANS. 247 K ap[)lical)lo in tho i)ast, thoro is reason for bclioving that it has mucli to verify it in tliesc last years. Tho present gene- ration of savages i)r()lit largely either from the remorse, or from the appreliensions, or from the generosity of our peo- ple; as expressed hy the Government. Wiiile in our largest cities are crowded hordes of wretched, houseless beggars, sull'ering all the direful miseries of penury, cold, naked- ness, and disease, the Indians who are pensioners of our Government have transported to their fastnesses, l)y most costly modes of carriage and distribution, a marvellous variety of necessities and even of luxuries. Droves of b(!e[ on the hoof, with whole warehouses of (dothing emj)- tied of materials for their ai)parel, minister to prinu; neces- sities. l>ut this is by no means all : any oue who will turn over the annual report of the United States Indian Commission will find in it a most elaborate tiible, covering (for 1881) one hundred and sixteen (do.sely [irinted pages, headed " Proposals received and Contracts awarded for Suppliiis for Indian Service." On reading over tliat tal)le, one will have really a new and grateful impression of tho resources, appliauiK's, inginniities, and ministi-ations of civ- ilization for hunuin life. All the varieties of food, of house- hold iiiid farming, mechanieul and artistic, ioitls, of stuffs and garnnnits, of groceries and furniture, of iron, tin, glass, and crock(;ry Avare, — (ill the speeilications in the taldes. The eye falls with pleasure upon the hundreds of tliousands of pounds of soap, and tlu; thousands of eoud>s, which may be ]>ut to excellent use. Cosmetics hold a large space. The variety of surgical instruments and mechanii'al medi- cal devices is an anuizing one. The elaborate list of tlrugs and medi(.'ines would seem to indicate tliat a system of ligiit })ractice does not jtrevail among the natives. To- bacco is furnished most lavishly. AVhen it is considered that ninety-nine hundredths of tlie articles on these tables were never used by or even known to the Indians before their intercourse with tho whites ; and when wo also take If '• 248 INDIAN TENURE OF LAND. into view the fact that having once received tliem and turned them to account they ever alter conic to depend upon thoni, clamoring- in impatience for (he sup|)ly, — we may estimate the service of the white man to the Indian. Nor must the statement he omitted that hist year, for ex- ample, the (lovernuKMit spent more than a million of (hi- lars for Indians not in reservations, nor imder trejity with it. Th(!sc facts, ar^icipatory of later discussions, are no- ticed liere as iiavi -jearing upon the virtual rijiht of the Indian tenure; oi a.s recojj:nized hy the favors extended by the whites. It is hardly to he supposed that any humane or ideal pleader for tlu; ri;^dits of the red man would allirin that his heritajre of this whole continent, when first visited l)y white men, should have been rei^arded and resi)ecte(l us iiudien- ably belonging to him for all tiiue to come, not to be encroached upon or shared with those who coidd make a better u.se of it. It can hardly he conceived that regions of a gh)he of very moderate size, — seemingly the oidy orb in the univer.se available for the subsistence, expansion, and development of th(> hmnan race, or at least the only one which we at present can occupy, — instead of l)eing turned to account by millions of happy civilized beings, should be held for all time as reserved to \h\ coursed over by a few thousand savages. Is it reasonable to maintain that one or several annuid visits and roamings over a vast extent of wild territory — lakes and forests — by a group or a tribe (tf hur.ters conferred ownership, superiority, or even priority of (daim to it? Why, even the pre-emptive; right, the (irst claim to tlu! right, of a jjurchaser of soil under our Government, is secured only by betternuMits and improve- ments on and l)elow its surface. The formality an' the Indians was scant and simple, eonlined individ- ually to each one's iipparel and implements. \(»r as a trilii! do th(! memlicrs in feliowslii|» apjicar to have Ixh'Ii j)rompted, at least liefore the cominjr of the whites, to hound any region hetween themselves and their nei,i;hhors to he esjjeeially and jealously jrnarded from intrusion. The recojrnition of an enemy in wilderness travel was simply as ho heUtnircd to a hostile trihe, not as one intrudin<5 upon domains where he had no rij^hts. The first example of anythinjjT like jealousy in the assertion of territorial limits amonjj: the Indians themselves was when, in the rivalries of English, Dutch, and French traders for trallic with trihes at enmity with each other, the ri<>ht of way over the trails and j)ortau;es of one (»r another hand was disjiuted. The white men would alle-fe that forest and stream were as free for common hiirhways as were the ferce naturm found upon them hy roviiitr hunters. Vet if we thus (piestion the riirht of any one tril)e or na- tion of the iihoriiriues to anythin^j; of such positive force as a lonir-inheiited clnini in connection with the actual occu- pancy of any particular territory, we do not then dis|)ose of the prior (|uestion as to the tenure by which hiunan hcinef(uv the comiui? of the white man. The race of red men, taken as a whole, was here ; and even if local trihes held one or another portion of the soil only temporarily and hy con([uest, lial)le at any time to he displaced, yet the race, as a race, certainly had some common and comprehensive right to an al)idin,u; place. This right the white man has always professed to respect. •; •if! l!i 250 INDIAN TENURE OP LAND. Wo may oven say [)ositivoly lluit \ho Kuropoans, from tlio first iIdwii to the present day, have; inteiideil to respect this ffoiir'ral ri<;lit of the al)ori«iiiies to exist on some |)ortion of this continent, and to lie allowed to live; after tiieir own fa.diion as nomads or hnnters. Provision has indeed been made by a lonu scries of enactments and measures on tho part of our (lovernnient for securiii'j: these ri;4hts to tiie Indians. IJei'ore the enormous jjfrowth of our own popula- tion by natural increase and colonization and innuij^iatiou, tho problem S(>emed to be om; very easily disposed of. It Iteini; taken for rn domains. We have crowded the tribes together, and they are now, like the deer or liulfalo which they used to encircle and drive into their traps and poimds, circumscribeil by the whiti- m(!n. There is one significant phrase used in the opening of this clia|>ter, which wo meet daily in our papers, that sums up the whole story and tho whole situation. It is that by which our Oovernment documents describe our almost boundless realm as " the j)ublic lands," or " the public domain." Yes; wc have claimed — in one sense we have H GRADITAL ADVANCE OP EUROPEANS. 251 got — tho wliolo. And wliat of tlu; former owners? If wo look at certain Oovernmcnt maps wo sec that States and Territories are parcelled out over this maujiiilicMMit realm like the squares in a vast checker-board. Amonj!; th(!se p!"-titions, shown in colors, we may count some liuiidrtMl a. 1 thirty patches, lar^^e or small, Ciiiled R(!S(;rviitions. Kaeh of these marks — in homely lan,«^und the terri- torial riuhts of savaijes ; and the spirit in which th(!y were ent(!re(l into was certainly, in some eases, sincere and fair, it has been found inexpedient or impracticubh; to keep them. This, however, is a subject for later i)a<^es of this volume ; passiufj; reference to it comes here, as tho vacillation and so-called perlidious course of policy of our (Jovernment in rcj^ard to these covenants is only another eviilence of an oriiiiual distrust or denial of any proprietary ri^dits of the savages. It was, of course, only gradually that our aboriginal people came to realize the full meaning of the struggle which they would have to maintain against the white men. At first they were wholly ignorant of the real purposes of the European colonists. 'I'he early companies of then were poor and few; they might have touched and lani'ml hero by accident, with no intention of remaining: tiiey were often oi)j(!cts of pity, and needed help; then l,h(!y ap|»ean!d to be transient tralVickers, seeking an exchange of com- modities — hsli and peltry — for a f(!W implements and trinkets. These early days of thi^ white man's weakness and poverty have been ever since referred to with pathetic pleading and reproachful remonstrance in the forest elo- (pieuce of Indian orators at councils, since we have l)ecomc so strong and eiu^roachiiig. Over and over again have these wild spokesmen by council fires, in making treaties Jl\ y ! "■••^ II L i l||: JM .Hi I 252 INDIAN TENURE OP LAND. with tho praspinj? and arro:hted, and after their fashion patriotic of the forest chieftains — I'ov hatan and his son, and Kinjr I'hilip, and afterwards I'mitiac, for instance — took in the aspect of the future for tluir race, us donmed to yield their inheritance if the white man strengthened himself on RAl'in OCCUPATION BY EUROPEANS. 253 tho soil. TIiDiitrh wo cannot suppose that tho Indian tribes honlcrini; on tiic whole Atlantic scalioard niaintaincii sucli close conununieation with each other as to lie well inlorinud uhout what was transpiring; at widely separated points on the coast at the time of most rapid colonization, yet they had some common kiiowledifc on tin* snlijeet. They fi>und the Kuropeans rusliin^ each other, anti transferrinu' Old World ipiarrels to this soil. While the natives thus came to realize the idtimate pur- po.se of the whites, and to realize too what destiny it would involve for then>,the Kuropeans on their [lart had stren'_Mh- encil themselves for eaidi suoessive statre of eoiilliel which the struirii;h' would encounter. As the lirst objects of their enterprise, invasion, and exploration — the precious metals and peltry — were al»aiidoned or subordinated, new aims and attractions took their place. Connneree on the hiirji seas, till' lisheries. freedom of raniiv for those who hay them has come to l»e of prime conse(|uen(u;. The (juestion has n( treaties indicates that we reirard the claims of thi' nativc^s as absurd, trivial, and jrnnnidless. Hid we n>ake a mistake from the start, or have we been pcrlidions'^ In our fri,u;ht under Indian liorder-warfare, our readiness to protect our frontier settlers, to ((ueouraire our minini; prospectors, and to securer a ])assa(pi(>nt Ci urse imder our own treaties has |iroved that we never really believetl that nomadic^ hordes, roaminj; over thousands of miles <»f wild land, could possibly accjuin! any such title to it as is alone recoirni/ed by civilized peoph;. When an individual propricltu* of land in a well-or;^ani'',ed uommuuity has hi^ rightti tu pus^essiua brought under ;.ie»- CONVKYANCES BY INDIAN CIIIKFH. or.r i tion or peril, he lius hut to invoke the aid of tlio law, ami if lU'L'd Ik' he will have tlio active help of tlu> whole eoin- muiiity in which he lives to maintain those riuiits. lient, in this case, a personal interest, le^al sanctions, and a sup- port hy tJie sympathy of neiirldxtrs and fellow-citi/.ens, all unite t(t maintain the riirhls of each sinnle propi-ietor of land. The Indian never asserted any riuhts strictly as a p(!rson, an individual, to a sintile fool of territory on this (;ontinent, not even to that on which he phinteil his lodire ; the law of the white man has mach' hut a faint, shadowy, and vacillalinu: recounition of any such riyhts of an indi- vidind Indian. Thus, instead of the three securities and appliances which the land-owner in a civili/.eil counninnty (iujoys, the Indian has lint one; niimely, such as he may find in the sympathy and helpful einiiiiiinient of his trihe to vindicate a cUdm common to all its mendiers. Hence the I'ldted Slates (Jovernment in its treaties with the na- tives for the cession of territory has never made the sliiiht- (>st recoirnition of any individual proprietary riiihts amon^j; them; it has always dealt with them as trilies, often with a very loose cstiujate of their numhers, — as the proprietors of some of tlio jrreat Western ranches sell out tiieir cattle as stock, in the jri'oss, Avithout an inventory l»y count. Thus th(! (Jovernment perpetuates the theory that ther(( an; no individual ridits amonir the Indians; they have hut the same claims to a connnon pasturaiic as a herd of cattle, or of hulValo, when they shift their I'antre. If so many otln'r more immediately pressiiiLi- perplexities had not come up to he luct liy our (loscrnment as the con- weipiences of its loose policy in treaties with the Indians, tluMcry searchinjj: question wonhl ha\i' i)een sure to have; presented itself as to the autlntrity or liiilit which two (»r three Indian chiefs, in council with ollicers of the (Jov- ernment, have to deed away an extent of territory, thus defrandinij their own posterity of a herita;jr(>. The (Jovern- ment has thus allowed that the Indian title is sulliciently 256 INDIAN TENURE OF LAND. i: (lormed to admit of bcin; it stated would llout as mean and al)oniina- hlc, while the rest would {zrant that it is at hest hut spceioJis anil plausil)Ie. Yet it has had its advixrates. This theory proceeds upon what are said to ix' adniitt(Ml prim-iplcs un- der the law of nations and the usages which apply to rit-hts of eon(iiU'st and accession to territory that has chanu:cd sovcrciu'iis. Spain, France, and I'lniiland on«'c clainiccl and substantially had possession of the whole; northern part of this continent, and also chiimcil sovereignty ovci- its inhal)- itants. \V'(! are not, it is said, to impiire too curiously about the method and process, nor even the justice and elTect, of the way in which this nuistery was obtained : we are to reirard only the fact. Now, with the exception of those portions of the territory which \sv. have purchas(;d, with all tlu! claimed riyhts from Kranci! and Spain, w(> con- quered this country from (li-eat IJritain. She clainu.'d to own the t(>rritory, and that the peoph; on it, red and white, wore her sul)jects. We hav(? s|)runi^ into W\\v^ upon it, a new and imlependent nation ; and the same strnu°ii;le which ficed us from the mother country made ns owneis of the territory and mastei's of all the natives on it whom 7 I and (jITcctivc allies of the FrcMich, and all their torritory be- sides. It wa8 in assei'tiii<; that claim and in the attempt to take iKtssessioM of such territory that Knjriand provoked on(! of the most ferocious and Iraiiic of the episodes in onr Indian warfare, known as the Conspiracy of I'ontiae. N xt, she en^aijfed the aid of Indian allies a^'ainst us in onr War of IndependiMiee, makini; a cftntract with them for their services, the terms of which she violated. (Innit Britain appears airain on tiie lield auainst us,aetinir throULrh her piveinor and ai^'ents in Canada, and such ald(> Indian conspirators as the .Mohawk chief Itrant and liittle Turtle. Iler schi'ine t'.en was, while httldin;; the .Northern and Wes- tern ''posts," which she had agreed to ^ave up to us, to prompt and aid the Indians west and north of the Ohio to tli(! conspiracy, on the jrround that the territory which she had ceded to us liy treaty tlid not iu(duile that into which onr pioneers hei>an to rush on the conclusion of peace. The innneuse cost which this I'cneweil Indian war inv(dved to our then merely confederated jroverumcMt. — impoverished, and w ith dist racfcd councils, — and the liailtarit ics of slaujih- ter and l)m'nin<.''s and desolation which it involved jor the settlers, miuht well have [lersuaded the 'jfeneration of that day that the ISritish and the Indians constituteil Init one (tonnnon enemy for us, and that oiu- victory included the con(|Uest of the territm-y over which the direfid strufTLde extended. At any rate, such is our title to that territory hehi ac 'ludint; to tlu^ allowed principles of natural and internatiiuial law. So we close our icvicvv of the sulijeel of the Indian ten- ure of land on tlii> iniiliiH'iit as ree()<;ni/ed and dealt with hy Km'opeans. 'I'heie has liecn no Iiannouy or eonsislem'y either of opinion has ifiven to it deep and ipiiet tliou,u;ht for iipprehcndiny; its full si-rnilicauee ; wide travel and explo- ration of tho scenes of tho f^reut drama; the most koon, extended, and thoroutih reseitrch for documents and maps in print or manuscript in this country und in Knrope, in pulilic archiv(>s and in private cahinets ; a skilled inquisi- tion for any hidden autl secret sources of information, and a most comprehensive ranii'e of reading i.nd stu soldiers of the ('omp:iiiy of Jesus, of •.'■cutle nurture and of scholarly train- inir. ;n utter scll'-abnciiation to bury themselves in the Woods that tliey miiiht circumvent the Hnemy of souls in his sweepinjj; claim for the hordes of heathenism. 'I'he fruits of Mr. I'arkman's labors appear at present — us they are happily not closed — in a series of seven v(d- umes, distiucM in subordiuat<' titles, but comprehensive of one vast sultject, dramatic and trafric in its sweep of des- tiny, but with brilliant, thrillimr. nunantic, an«l even liirht- H(tme episiitles to break its sombreuess of rehearsal. The meditation and the toil, the traiiu-d jud;Li:ment and the con- science which have frone into those vobnnes that they might be critically faithful in their narrations, just to the patrons and actors in their enterprises, and attractive and instinc- tive to the readers, must be left to the estimate of a|»|>reci- utive and irrateful students. .Mr. I'arkmau's full theme extends throu'j:b just two cen- turies of time, and I'clates to historical incidents covering the whole of this nurthern contiMeui between Florida and Oanada. The whole region, when Ik; takes up the story, was called, by the Spanish discoverers and claimants under m(marc!\ and pope. New Spain, or Spanish Florida. Mr. I'arkman deals with the region as New France. His stint of task and purpose was to rehearse in its completeness I 1 I I I *. ^''' ,. _- Mn. parkman's works on new francr. 2U1 if and in ita opisodos tho enterprise and aim of FnMiclimen — by their own private resources, the iielp of nol)h; and d(v vont patrons, men and women, and the sanction of mon- arclis <:;uidcd by prime ministers, tiintULrli patents and vast tornlorial fj^rants and viee-royal privih'i>es — to hiy in tho Now World the foundations of a eoh)nial empii-e. Mr. I'ark- man jrrasps his whole theme with ii eom|irt!hensivi! hold of its contents necessarily ex(!e(>din,i^ that of Mr. Irvinu; as tho bioirrapher of (Jolumlms and his successors in the service of Spain, and in their explorinir anht have been pursued and accomplished in the interests of j)(\'ico, of ])rolitalil(! commerce and of trade, with a mon^ hopeful proi^ress in tiiat process of Christiani/inn' tin; sava- fjfes which satislicnl the ndiii'ious standard of th(»s(; who im- dertook it. Mr. Parkman has to present to us, in portrait- un> and in conspi(Mious achievement, hiuh-souli'd mm with lofty aims, — ardent, heroic, patient in all bulVetinj^s with thwiirtinu; foes and overwhelmimr disasters, and sinkinu; all sell-ends to secure an enviable prize for their mnnarch and their coinitry; thoULih not all of bis characters exhiitit thcst; hi^h traits, fi'ce of meannesses. lie Ijrini's before us on his animated and picim"es(|ue paires a sneeession of mari- ners whoso prowess and self-reliance made tlimi dauntless <»v(>r unknown seas, thronirh fo;j;-biinks, shoals, iccberffs, and rocky barriers of granite harltors ; explorers who learned to thread their way throutrh forests, rivers, lakes, and cataracts, for thousands of miles, stripped of all their wonted resources as tivili/ed men, and east upon their (piiidi skill to l)ecomo adepts in those of the woods; vice- roys, proven. ors, majrist rates, with eonfiictinir commissions and bitter rivalries fomenting jealousies and diseord ; and MM 1 iii i l:« 202 THR PHENCH AND THK INDfANR. priests whose lives and experieiieos woro a lentrtlieiiinf; iii<2;eiiiiity and variiitimi of all the elements of niai'tynioni for Houl-sei'viee and sell"-aliiiej;ntittn. Mr. I'arkniiin draws f<»r us, in deep and radical terms of eontrast, as eiiterinjr into the very initiatory and eontrol- linir principles respeefively of the French and the I-lnirlish aims and mellio(ls of colonization, the ridinu: spirit which f;nid(Ml them, residtini; in ahsohite failiu'c and disaster for tlin one, and in marvellous sueeess and prosperity for the other. The Kreneh enterprise, as represented l)y him, was inspired ami ^niided liy and was wlmlly in the interest of feudalism, monarchism, and spiritual despotism, 'i'he Kn^- lish enterprise f(»und its vitrin'ons life and animatinir spirit in workint; towards democracy, civil lilicrly, and soul-free- dom. The {''rendi came lu're as soldiers, priests, and freo- traders, with the ran^je of the woods foi- their jroods, and the natives as hunters in their ser\ice. Mut they wholly lacked that sliu'dy class — the hoiu' and sinew of a commu- nity plantinj; it.self for new empire on virjrin soil — of pa- tient toilers on a recliiimcd farm, with riLdits (»f severalty for homesteads; individuals in their elTorts and success, hut memliers of a commonwealth for nmtual help and se- curity, 'i'lie kimr, the nolil(>, and the priest eomliine(| to make New France a rcidm of reconstructed and revivified f(!udalism. There was hut a sin^de class or caste of mett ami women in New FiiLdiiud. Fvery (»ni' helon;rei| to it. ; it included the whole; it was called The People. It did not look to a hu'ciLHi monarch fm* commissions to ollice or power; it sent hack no report to kinu' oi- ministitr; asked fiU' no foreitfu soldiery, no eariroes of supplies, even when in dire extremitv. It rooted itself independentiv of patronaire, and transferred to Ihi; soil the nmseh !.«y which it was afterwards held. As .Mr. I'aikman draws th(! contrast, France in the New World was all head, without a hody ; New England was all body, without a head. lit ■a- « THE SPAN'IARDft IN AMERICA. 2G3 I Tlio 8rn|«« of tills vnliiiiic iiiiikcs iis coiuionuvl wifh hut u 8iii!j;l(' clfmciil ill the n»iii|>i('li<'iisiv(» purpose! oi' Mr. I'lirk- iiiiiii's lirilli;iiil and iiinsi iiistnirtivc volmiics. Hv(>rv one of (lii'ir panes, ('it litT in llic cliaiiictcr or iiicitlcnl wliicli (ills it, or ill the ^raplii*' slvli' or llic rifli ami Itcaiitiliil rlicloric of Ili(> writer, mills to our national litcrutun; souk; of the cliaractcristic (|iialilics to wliidi tin* most (lisci-iininatiti<.' (M'iticisin will assiii'ii a IiIlHi cncoiniiiin. In those pa<;es men of forei.Lrn hirthare iiaturali/e(| to our soil and historv: they heeome Aineiieans liecanse their eiieitries, toils, and saeriliees, which miiiht have heeii latent in their veins, would never in the Old World have heeii deveIope(|, even to the eonseioiisiiess of their possessors, ("haniplaiii, Fnui- t(!niie. iia Salle, .Manpiette. — their peers, assoeiates, and hrethieii, — have their haptismul records in the Old World, hill their life-r )rd is here. I have made \liis reference t(» the results of nearly forty years of diversilied and concentrateil literary t; from their intercourse with i'luropeaiis. What would have heen the later and the loiiir results of the exclusive or predominant sway of the Spanish power had it extended and iiioted itself over oiir wliolt mti- iient may he infened fiom the history, the experiences, and the present condition of those portions uf it which have from the lirst c(»ni|iiest remained under the crown of Spain, .)r have had eiitaih-d upon them Spanish inlliieiice and institutions. The poet Cowper, in his niitrali/iiiL'' strains, nearly a century iv^n, (juve voice to the trinmph wliitdi ono of tlio Mexican or IV-ruviaii chieftains in the realm of shades IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) . '/ /A Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 w- w I \ 264 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. might pour forth over the humbled pride of the nation which had devastated his lands and people : — "Oh, could their ancient Incas rise again, How would they take up Israel's taunting strain I ' Art thou too fallen, Iberia ? Do we see The robber and the nnirderer weak as we ? Thou, that hast wasted earth, and dared despise Alike the wrath and meroy of the skies. Thy pomp is in the grave, thy glory laid Low in the pits thine avarice has made. We come with joy from our eternal rest. To see the oppressor in his turn oppressed ! ' " ^ The stupendous and still unfinished drama of which tlus continent, as involving the fate of its origiual peoples, has afforded the vastly extended stage, with all its grandeur, richness, gloom, and sombreness of scenery and incident, conforms to the severest principles laid down for tragic art. There is unity in the plot; and its development through changing characters, with their entrances and their exits, shifting in garb and dialogue as they act their parts, leads on to what we still wait for as the event of destiny. The drama has five acts. The first, which we have rehearsed, is that of Spain and the natives of this continent. The second act brings the French on the stage, with a milder and more genial spirit and purpose, though still as the agents of much misery to the red men alike as their allies or their enemies. The third act is filled witli the conflicts between the French and English, — the natives and their lands being the stake at hazard. The fourth act presents Great Britain in the war for independence or subjection with her colonics, each of the contesting parties arraying on its side hostile bands of the savages. The fifth act, still drawing out its movement, (piickoncd in cnrncstncss and activity rather than growing wearisome and lagging after centuries of progress, exhibits our National Govern- ment, with the legacy of struggle in its hands, charged to 1 Cowper's "Charity." i FRENCH PISHING VOYAGES. 265 bring the drama to its close. It is with the second act as it was in progress, and with its actors and incidents, that wo now study tlie fortune of our aborigines under one of its developments. The prizes which tlie New World opened to European enterprise and adventure proved very soon to offer tempta- tions to all the maritime powers of the Old World. The Papal Bull which conferred tlie whole continent on the crown of Spain was treated as if it were a simple pleas- antry, even by monarchs who avowed themselves docile and faithful subjects of his Holiness; and as soon as some of the i)rinces and people of Europe had broken from the bonds of the old Church, any claimed prerogative of the Pope to confer rights or jurisdiction here was utterly, and as if by common consent, discredited. So the next act in tlie tragic history of our aborigines opens with the events which first acquainted them with the fact that the race of pale-faces coming from across the sea were not all of one nation, subjects of the same sovereign, having common interests; but, in fierce and bloody rivalry, were ti'ansferring to this new soil jealousies and hostilities of foreign dynasties. The earliest lesson of this sort which our Southern Indians had a chance to learn, if tlieir under- standings could take it in, was that some difference in the religion of the invaders — as that of the French Huguenots and the Spanish Catholics in Florida — could add an cmbit- termcnt to the raging passion of their strife. Beginning as early as the year 1504, we find a con- stantly increasing number of fishermen from European ports, almost exclusively French, resorting to the banks near Newfouiidhiud for the ])rofitable catch of cod. There were markets for vast tending market for the peltries of the wilder- ness, — I jcaver, the otter, the marten, the fox, the lynx, and the l :cr robes of the moose, the deer, the caribou, and the bear. The king and his patentees found it as difficult to secure a covenanted monopoly in this traffic as it would have been to exhaust the supply of these precious spoils spread over the vast and limitless expanse of a miglity con- tinent. Sixty-eight years after the first voyage of Cartier, and fifteen years before the landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth, the noble Champlain — a hero in every nerve and muscle, a saint too in some of his lofty and generous quali- THE FRENCH IN ACADIA. 277 U- ties — first appears upon the scenes of ocean and land in the New World. He had sailed into and skirted the shores of Massachusetts Bay, where he had seen vast numbers of the natives in 1605, thus confirming the uniform story of a destructive plague having ravaged the region and nearly exterminated the savages just previous to the coming of the English colonists. Champlain entitled his first publi- cation (1004), "Les Sauvages." The abortive and long- badlcd enterprises at Acadia at last became secondary to that of a strong and firm though at times imperilled hold of established French sway in Canada. A passing notice is here prompted of the curious fact, that, while the first collision between rival European nationalities on this conti- nent — that between the French Huguenots and the Span- iards — took place at the scene of modern pleasure-resort in winter for a summer climate, the next encounter — that between rival claimants, Englishmen and Frenchmen — occurred in 1G13 at the favorite summer-haunt. Mount Desert. Frenchman's Bay still preserves the memory of the onslaught by Captain Argall, of Virginia, upon the set- tlement made near by, by Saussaye, with a French commis- sion. The latter was charged with " an invasion of British territory," made such by the sighting of the coast by Cabot. The incident was a significant prognostication of what was to follow through a century and a half of embittered civilized and savage warfare. It does not appear that any other than amicable relations had existed betweecn the natives in and around Acadia, and the successive French adventurers there. Some curi- ous incidents of missionary experience in those regions will claim notice in the subsc(iuent chapter assigned to that subject. Cartier, in his first voyage, in 1534, was most kindly and hospitably treated by the natives. He rc- (piited this kindness by kidnapping two young Indians, whom he carried to France, bringing them back to the St. Lawrence the next year to serve him as interpreters. It is 278 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. noteworthy that in every instance reported to us in which natives of any age, by fraud or voluntarily, were carried either to Spain, England, or France, none of them wished to remain abroad, but all pined for their wilderness homes. It was thought that their amazement, curiosity, and interest, engaged in foreign scenes by court pageantry and all the sights and splendors of civilization, — castles, churches, machinery, — would wean them from their rude habits and associations. But it proved quite otherwise. Exile was to them misery ; and when after expatriation they returned, they were lilce uncaged birds or wild beasts escaped from the toils. This fact, as we sliall note, has a bearing upon the question of the capacity and aptitude of the Indian for civilization. Before Cartier returned from his second voyage up the St. Lawrence, in 1535, by a mean artifice he entrapped on board his vessel Donnacona and other chiefs, from whom he had received a hearty welcome and much food. Most of the captives died of home-sickness in France, though rich amends, it was presumed, had been made to them by the privilege of baptism. When these kidnapped cliiefs were afterwards inquired for by their kinsfolk, Cartier told them that Donnacona had died, but that others of them had made high marriages in France, and lived in state like lords. It might have seemed, as has been said, that the French colonists could have lived at peace with tlie natives, and indeed have found their interest in so doing, especially as their main object was not so much, or scarce at all, the clearing and occupancy of large spaces of land, but the enriching fur-trade. The example may be cited of the companies and brigades of Scotchmen and Englishmen who, in the employ of the Hudson Bay Company for nearly two centuries, carried on a vastly lucrative trade with the savages, being at })erfect amity, and indeed in most cordial relations, with them. But, as we shall see, the scheme CHAMPLAIN IN QUEBEC. 279 which Champlain liad conceived fi-om the first, or which very soon matured itself in his views, and tlie constraint of the circumstances amid which he found himself, im- mediately involved him in a warfare Avhich, once begun, was to find no end till the dominion of France was extinguished on the continent. Champlain might at first have been fully content to have one or more tribes of Indians as friends. But lie found that he could not secure this end without having more tribes as enemies, because they were the foes of his allies. He was all too readily, however, drawn into what he regarded as the compulsion of neces- sity for taking a side, — only, without intending it, he took the weaker side. Champlain passed his first winter in Quebec, in 1G08. It was a terrific and a seasoning experience for him and Ids associates. Of the twenty-eight men of the com})any, only eight were alive in the spring : cold, exi)Osure, lack of comfort, enforced idleness in a rigid climate, land and water heaped in mountain piles of snow and locked in icy fetters, with the loathsome havoc of the scurvy, had so re- duced them. The spring brought reinforcements to Cham- plain. His friends among the natives were not of his own choosing. They were Algon(;[uins, — largo remnants then of once numerous and powerful tribes, Montagnais and Ilurons. The confederated, thrifty, and imi)erious Five Nations, or Iroquois, in central New York, were at deadly feud with them, and had annually swe])t and desolated their cornfields and villages with lire and slaughter. On the first year of his sojourn at Quebec Champlain l)ecame a party to this savage feud. Why did he so? lie was of an almost ideal loftiness and grandeur of spirit. With a manly devoutness to consecrate his heroism he preserved a strict moral purity, inexplicable by his lax Indian hosts, which preserved him from the sensuality so freely indulged, with large opjjortunities, by his volatile countrymen. For twenty years he made almost annually a spring and au- "' I i . !i iij J- 280 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. tumn transit of the seas, alternating between the court of France — wlicre he defended, or drew friends to, his col- ony — and tlie depths of sombre wildernesses, i)atient un- der all buffetings and privations. More than any other white man he awed and won the confidence and love of the natives. He could command, threaten, and sway them; and, though with scowls and murmurs they miglit hesitate, they generally yielded to his mastery. He held in equal poise in his aims two great objects not inconsistent each with the other, but mutually helpful as he viewed them, — the commercial interests of New France, and the conversion to the Church of its debased, imbruted, and beniglited natives. Beside these was the lure of finding a water-way to China and the East. M?-. Parkman well says of this grand vision- ary : " Of the pioneers of the North American forests, his name stands foremost on the list. It was he who struck the deepest aiul boldest strokes into the heart of their pris- tine barbarism."^ Whether from the first he had matured a plan, that whicli guided him to the end of his career is strongly defined by Mr. Parkman as follows. It was " to influence Indian counsels, to hold the balance of power between adverse tribes, to envelop in the network of French power and diplomacy the remotest hordes of the wilder- ness."'*^ At some commanding position on the line of water-transit from the vast interior to the sea, lie would plant a fort that should secure the mastery for all trade and intercourse. But here at tlic North, as on the Southern bounds of our present domain, the Europeans found the native tribes in deadly strife together. As soon as they were able to appre- hend the facts and the traditions of these tribes, — still existing in strength, or in exhausted and subjugated rem- nants, — they learned that the strife, with its varying for- tunes, ferocious and pitiless, had been going on for undated time. The French could but take part in it. It was not 1 Pioneers of France, etc., p. 345. ^ Ibid., p. 309. ^■J CHAMPLAIN 8 INDIAN ALLIES AND FOES. 281 .; : for them to ask as to the right or wrong in any case where moral distinctions were inapplicable, between tribes of wild heathens. They must make terms with their nearest neighbors, and hold their enemies common enemies. Over and over again did discomfitures and calamities, in dismal variety, threaten absolute failure of enterprises. But again and again fresh spirits — nerved by an iron resolve, and fired by greed, the love of adventure, fanaticism, and the rest- lessness of a fermenting age — renewed the vcntui-e. The retrospect of the fortunes of the red race, which has been yielding and fading before this persistent and lion-hearted endeavor, is prevailingly melancholy, as it presents imbe- cility and incapacity succumbing to the potency of skill and energy. But from the earlier enterprises of the white race on this continent, especially as represented by the French, we are made to know what there is in the reserved re- sources of human nature for endurance and buffeting, for persistency and patience of all hardships. This nature of ours is not susceptible only to the blandishments of ease and fuluess of pleasure : it is furnished with its own armor for perils that have been courted, and for straits of experi- ence which line the way to all consummate ambitions. Mr. Parkman rightly tells us that " in one point Cham- plain's plan was fatally defective, since it involved the deadly enmity of a race whose character and whose power were as yet but ill imderstood, — the fiercest, the boldest, the most politic, and the most ambitious savages to whom the American forest has ever given birth and nurture."^ Champlain initiated the policy which all his successors representing French dominion here felt themselves com- pelled to follow. With allies, some of whom wholly failed him at the time and place of concourse, and all of Avhom, by their turbulence, their laggardness, and incompetency of discipline, were as much a torment as a help to him, he rashly drew upon himself the rage of the Iroquois by an 1 Pioneers of France, etc., p. 362. 282 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. I i f invasion of their well-defended territories. Not always did liis arqucbuso and his armor secure him awe and a charmed immunity. He found the fortified towns of the Iroquois, with their triple rows of strong palisades, with galleries for bowsmcn and water-gutters for extinguishing fires, were not to bo mastered by a handful of Frenchmen and five hundred yelling Ilurons. lie was signally bufilcd and disappointed. He was severely wounded, so that he had to be borne oft" in a basket on the back of an Indian, and so lost his prestige with friend and foe. He Avas initi- ated in all the atrocities of torture and burning, and 1 is remonstrances were vain as addressed to those who had no word nor any sense for humanity. Very soon after the settlement of Dutch farmers and traders on the Iludson River, in 1014, the powerful tribes of central New York, with whom they had established ami- cable and very profitable relations, were furnished by them with fire-arms and ammunition, in express violation of the prohibition of the authorities of the Dutch colony. But as some of these authorities were themselves the traffickers who dealt in the forbidden weapons, the traffic was winked at. Guns and strong waters soon became the most coveted articles of trade and barter with the natives. The charmed weapon, one discliarge of which, as it belched forth its flame and sped its deadly bolt, had spread such dismay and fright as to disperse an army of Iroquois warriors on Cham- plain's first encounter with them when he discovered the magnificent lake which bears his name, had now become familiar to the savages. It lost its terror as a part of heaven's artillery for those who could themselves wield it. They very soon became experts in its use ; indeed they taught the white man how to make it more serviceable in forest warfare, by breaking up the lines of an orderly military array, and by skulking with it behind a tree or a bush, and, after its deadly aim had had clfect, creeping or crawling to another ambush to reload. THE FRENCH IN ALABAMA. 288 1 i When the colonists of Plymouth and Massachusetts Bay, after 1620, began to go on their fishing and trucking expe- ditions to the coast of Maine and Acadia, they too surrep titiously sold arms to the Indians and entered into preca- rious covenants with them. Though the French had been at deadly feud with the Mohawks, tiie allies of the Dutch, they claimed the protectorate of the territory of the Eastern Indians, and alliance with them. Here, then, — between the French ^n the one part, and the Dutch and English on the other, — began a series of collisions in rivalry and hostility for territorial and colonial power, and rights to exclusive traffic with the natives, which, prolonged for a full century and a half, closed in 17G3 by the English conquest of Canada. Several distinct periods In that sweep of time arc liistorically designated by special namc& as defining a particular war, — as, lor instance, Queen Anne's War. Uut these were only concentrations and culmina- tions of a never wholly intermitted hostility. Even when one or another monarch, or minister of a foreign crown, proposed that the quarrels between their subjects at home should not be transferred to tliese forests, the pacific privi- lege was not accepted. Leaving for further notice these complications between Europeans at the North, we must glance at the enterprises of the French on other parts of the continent. Nearly a century and a half after the region had been ravaged by De Soto, the French appeared in Alabama, to oi)en a new series of European lessons in conquest and cruelty with what remained there of the Indian race. Marquette had floated down the Mississippi to the mouth of the Arkansas in 1G73, and La Salle had descended to the mouth of the river in 1682, taking possession in the name of the French king, and returning to Canada. But on his sea voyage for the pur{)ose, three years afterwards, that noble and intrepid ad\'cnturer, baflled in his attempt to find the mouth of the river in the Gulf, disembarked ;; J i 284 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. h 1 i, •! i I r! |i on the coast of Texas. Soon after, in his wanderings, his assassination by one of his dastard companions put a tragic close to tlie first Frencli attempt to colonize Louisiana. After the peace of Ryswick, in 1G97, and in spite of the Spanish cluuu, Iberville — one of seven remarkable broth- ers, of a Canadian family — renewed the effort in Loui- siana III 1G99, accompanied by his brother Bienville, who was governor of the colony (and the actual founder of Louisiana) for forty years. He made a fortification in the Bay of Biloxi, on the Mississippi. The enterprise was attended by a continuous series of strifes, quarrels, fights, and disasters. His men were utterly unwilling to perform any labor of planting or tillage on the land, even when star- vation threatened them as the alternative ; they preferred to spend all their time and strength on their feuds, and on venturesome predatory roamings. All their supplies of every kind, including most of their food, were brought from France. Such labor and menial work as was indis- pensable was put upon their abounding negro slaves. The region was steadily contested between the French and the Spaniards. The actual French settlement of Louisiana was made by the French in and around Mobile, in 1718. The remnant of the friendly tribes, harassed and exhausted by the havoc wrought by their successive tormentors, came much under the influence of the missionary priests, and became merged among the Choctaws and Chickasaws. The Natchez Indians, said to have wandered from Mexico, had settled on and around the bluff on the Mississippi that bears their name. Here, in 1729, they destroyed a French garrison, with its red allies ; the incident being marked in our history as one of those vengeful visitations called, dis- tinctively, massacres, — the title being generally reserved for those not rare experiences in which the savages had the mastery. A direful slaughter attended the catastrophe, which was complete, except as some of the women and m THE FRENCH IN LOUISIANA. 285 children and negro slave.s escaped its fury. So, by repe- titious of tlic first and continuous methods of European devastation on the continent, the Frencli enacted their his- tory. Five years after the Natcliez massacre, the French, in 1733, under Perrier, with Clioctaws for allies, took ven- geance for this slaughter, and broke the power of the Natchez tribe by death and devastation. Four 'mndred and twenty-seven of the wretched savage survivors were sent by Perrier to St. Domingo, to bo sold as slaves. Meanwhile, after the year 172G, when Louisiana began to give some signs of hope as a colony, enterprising and dauntless English traders, with pack-horses laden with goods, had begun to penetrate the wilderness from Caro- lina and Georgia, driving a brisk traffic with the Chicka- saws. Those Chickasaws, in opposition to the Choctaws, had come into alliance with the scattered fragments of the Natchez Indians, and harried the French. Tlie French, under Bienville, witli tlicir Choctaw allies, made a rush upon the Chickasaws in 1736, but the Chickasaws secured a bloody victory. By this time tlie hostile rivalry between the French and the English for trade and territory ex- tended up from Louisiana to Ohio, Virginia, and Pennsyl- vania. And so through all these feuds, battles, and mas- sacres, involving the Indians in the struggles between the representatives of three European nationalities, — the Span- iards, the French, and the English, — the natives felt the iron scourge weighing on and crushing them alike from the dealing of temporary friends and foes. Beginning then from the first collision between the French and the English colonists here down to the Eng- lish conquest of Canada, the Indians found themselves between the upper and the nether millstone, cither as al- lies or foes of the one or the other European combatant. Nor did the hard fate by which they always suffered, which- ever party temporarily prevailed, find any relief when the English sway became complete here ; for as wo shall have i 286 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. full occasion to note, in our own colonial war with Crcat Britain the same crushing power of fate did not nuikc the Indians umpires in the struggle, but simply victims. We give full credit to the natives, if not for skill, yet for ability, cunning, and ferocity, in the great art of warfare before they had known any white foes. But it seems as if they must have learned something from their training under their new enemies. They certaiidy did learn that they had no monopoly of that class of passions wliich infuriate combatants and inspire guile, treachery, and breaches of the most solemn covenants. In the Old World, in the most embittered wars between Christians, some arrests and recognitions of what stood for humanity were coming to assert themselves as promising to introduce rules for what is called civilized warfare. Such rules have never yet crossed the sea to be of service to our natives. We pause at this point in the rehearsal of only painful and shocking deeds, to reflect upon a fact which must for- cibly present itself to one who, in reviewing the strife of European nationalities on this continent, contemplates the distribution of the awards from it. The pages of human history and fortunes on the scenes of this distracted world present to us many conclusions and residts in the struggles for the greater prizes of empire which violate our highest conceptions of right, our judgment of what ought to have been. And perhaps the most signal instance of the seeminjdy inequitable disposal of the great issues of policy among nations is the significant fact, that France, either as empire or republic, has not now any terri- torial foothold on this continent ; nor indeed any memorial of her old colonial enterprise and sway, save in the names borne by lakes and rivers, forts and missions, cataracts and portages, in the regions of her wilderness heroism, and in the mixture of her blood and lineage in the descendants of nearly every aboriginal tribe. The allotments of fortune, or the fatuity of destiny, or the arbitrament of treaties built upon FRENCH CLAIMS TO THIS CONTINENT. 287 the issues of battles, have cxtin*;uislic(l upon this vast conti- nent every territorial riglit of tlie Frenchman. Tliere is in existence a map of New France, engraved by tlie French king's cartograplicr, on whicli a very considerable portion of our present national domain is included under that com- placent title, while the English colonics arc crowded into a narrow seaboard strip. The more than complete inver- sion of those inscribed titles which appear on every map engraved for more than a century past, presents a theme over which we can but deeply moralize. We call up the image of the dauntless and generous-hearted Champlain, planning for an emi)ire for his beloved France over these unmeasured ranges of lands, rivers, and inland seas. We note how in his journals and on his maps he attaches a name from his mother tongue to every natural object and phenomenon in his course, — l)ay, island, promontory, creek, or inlet, cascade, carrying-place, or camping-ground, level or swell of land, — and sometimes a word or phrase drawn from the (juiet or the conflict of his experience for the moment. Happily many of these names are retained to secure fragments of history by their associations. Wc follow the weariful but ever-patient trampings of the mis- sionary with only red companions, learning from them their own names of places, and entering them with a French alias in his memory or his notes. We accompany in thought those intre[)id and agile courcurs de bois, pene- trating the deepest wilds, in absences of years from their own kin and fellows. They bore with them remembrances of their village life and si»orts in their ever dear old home, and left many of its words and phrases as their own epi- taphs or legacies. These French names and epithets keep watch only over the shadows of the past. On three grounds, each of them obvious and strong in reason and validity, France might advance claims for per- manent and representative rule on this continent, beyond those of English nationality now in possession. TT i i I M-Pi li 288 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS, 1. French adventure and enterprise had i)recedencc in the actual coU)nizatiou of the northern halt' of this conti- nent. Spain was long content with conquest without col- onization. She has in Mexico and in South America all that can bo said to be rightfully hers in the perpetuation of her language, in exclusive privileges of commerce, in the mixture of Spanish with native blood, and in the still effec- tive, though strained and fretting, ties of traditional loy- alty recognized by her transatlantic subjects on main and island. Jiut France had won something more than these, and has less, indeed nothing, here. Her navigators had given her the basis of what was then a riglitful claim, in discovery. This was followed by actual occupancy, al- most simultaneously, of the Peninsula of Florida, of the bays, islands, and shores of Acadia, of the St. Lawrence, of Canada, and afterwards of Louisiana and Mississippi. From the moment France had her foothold on our soil, there began in her interest that marvellously romantic and heroic work of exploration, discovery, and description of the features and scenes of this continent which made the title of New Franco as justly applicable to the whole of it as that of New England was to a small section of it. And this work of French colonization and exploration was pursued, not by the scant resources and ventures of a few expatri- ated outlaws and exiles, but under the patronage of one of the greatest of monarchs, through his ministers and vice- roys, with the outlays and vigorous energies of the nobles of the realm, and the mighty prestige and the benediction of the Church, through Pope and cardinals, priests and missionaries. 2. A century and a half ago, France — though from fun- damental mistakes in policy she had not strengthened herself in numbers, nor in the sure hold of the soil which comes from its improvement by agriculture and by industry — had actual possession of the inner strongholds of this conti- nent. A line of forts, with mission chapels and trading THE FRENCH AS EXPLORERS. 289 posta, stretched along the strategic points on the great lakes an. I at the confluence of the first series ol" largo rivers beyond the Alleghani(>s. Mai'qu(!ttc had discovered the Mississip])i, and La Salle had traced it to the salt sea. A Frenchman was the hrst wliite man to thread his way to the Rocky Mountains. These lakes and ])osts had for the most part been occupied by the consent, or at least tho tolerance, of the natives, because they su[)posed that the convenicnco and benefit of them as trading or mission Nations were shared by both races. Ui strength of muscle, in the strain upon endurance, by which the inijtlemcnts for building and defence were introduced into thes(! depths of the primeval wilderness, was exacted harder toil from the French than the English colonists expended at contempo- rary periods of their enterprises. As soon as the Englisii by the fortune of war afterwards got possession of these strongholds, they obliterated the names given by their pre- decessors. Indeed we might say, that, up to the period of our Revolutionary war, the English colonists on the seaboard had done scarce anything in the severer enter- prises of exploration. They had, so to speak, used tho French trails, and had the benefit in many ways of that experience won by others which is so much cheaper, and often more valuable, than that won by ourselves. The moment now that the modern traveller gets beyond the first ranges of our Western valleys and mountains, air and earth and water, history and tradition, are redolent of the memories of exjdorers and adventurers who called the monarch of France their sovereign. All this toil and task-work of exploration and discovery, pursued by dauntless and intrepid men, — men whose life began in the luxuries of courts, and who yet proved them- selves equal to an almost superhuman effort and endur- ance, — was undergone for a purpose : it Avas in the service of their beloved France, her adored glory and sanctity as a servant of the Church. If a passing glance of a coast- 19 290 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. line -f a country which has had no place on a seaman's chart, estaljlishos by the law of nations the right of dis- covery, and so of possession, for the monarch from one of who3C ports the vessel sailed bcai'ing the navigator Avho caught that glance, what shall we say of rights and claims assured by early and continued French enterprise on this continent ? While the levity and hilarity of spirit which characterize that people, and the easy abandon of their morals in the teni{)tations of a wilderness, may have lightr encd and cheered their ventures of exploration, some stil'fer sinews, some firmer fibres, some loftier pitch of spirit were needed by them in that perilous work. They had at least leaders of a dauntless heroism, of pluck, energy, and en- durance unmatched in adventure. I w^ould include the French with the Indians, as having been spoiled of their inheritance here. 3. ]>ut Avliat is more directly to our purpose, in our theme of the red man in his relations with Europeans on tbis continent, is to note the paramount claim of France, through her colonists here, to sway and iniluence over the savages. It is but fair, and fully conformed to historic truth, to say that of all the colonists who entered the New World, for wb.atcver ends involving trespass upon or dis- possession of the native tribes, Frenchmen were the most friendly, the most serviceable, and, we may add, the most just tow-ard them. Of course, in affirming this we may still recall with all their aggravations the fierce and bitter wars with the Indians, the raid? and devastations and mas- sacres which so deeply stain with woe and horror the do- minion of New France in America. The French brought many miseries upon tribes which they could not win to friendship ; and they aggravated the darkest and direst penalties visited upon their allied tribes by subjecting them to the common vengeance of the English as being the bloody tools of their rivals. But, notwithstanding this, France might claim to-day a hold upon some of this terri- VOYAGEURS AND COUREURS DE BOIS. 291 st ra le s, i- tory simply on the ground of kinder, more sympathiz- ing, and, so to speak, more wise and reasonable eourses in her treatment of the savages. Indeed, lier influence does survive through her old afliliations with them. The history of French enterprise and adventure on this conti- nent draws some of its most romantic and picturesque elements for narrative and for quiet musing from the men already referred to under the titles of "Voyageurs" and " Courcurs de IJois." Often they were identical in traits, character, and habits. For whoever had the inclination, skill, and other qualities for one of these capacities could easily conform himself to the other. So far as the charac- ters were distinguishable, the voijagcur might be regarded as the expert in canoe navigation, while the coureur found his principal occupation in coursing the wilderness. The voijagenr was commonly in the employ of some association of traders or individual traders. The coureur de hois acted on his own account. The same person often combined both characters. How readily a large ntunber of a large class, too, of Frenchmen took to these airy, free, and hazardous ways of spending their existence, and how soon they became adepts and experts in their wild life, needs no comment here. They took Indian wives, at their discretion or ability to i)ay for them. They have left behind them a numerous ))ro- geny of half-breeds, wlio, wliile sometimes troul)lesome, have proved largely serviceable to hunting and trapping parties of whites, to private and Government ex{)lorers, and ofiiccrs at our posts, as scouts and interpreters, and as needful go-betweens for the two races. They led a reckless and lawless life, ofion v,ith dubious loyalty to either party. They ministered to the Indian's i)assion for strong drink. They became often so troublesome, intractable, and law- less in tiieir occasional returns to civilized spots, and in their bad influence over the natives, that the local and foreign governments made many though always vain clTorts to restrain and suppress them. The historian Charlevoix ft 292 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. covers tlie wliole truth, and its explanation too, in this frank statement : " The savages did not become French, but the French became savages." There was a root difference, complete and characteristic in all its workings and manifestations, between the ways in which the English and the French felt towards the Indians, looked upon, and treated them. On being brought into re- lations either friendly or hostile with the savages, the Eng- lish felt for them dislike, contempt, loathing even; and they seldom took the pains to conceal these feelings. At any rate the Indians needed not to Lxercise their keener penetration to become perfectly aAvarc that their treat- ment by the English was characterized not only by a show and assumption of superiority, but by disdain and hauteur. There was a line which the English never allowed to be crossed, or even blurred, between them and the savage, — the line which forbade real intimacy, or any concession of familiarity on equal terms. Roger Williams and the Apostle Eliot may bo said in the full sincerity of their hearts, in pity, sympathetic yearnings, and heroic, patient, devoted efforts for the redemption and welfare of the In- dians, to have exceeded all Englishmen ; but their own avowals are evidence that their English stomachs, as they said, loathed the habits and the viands of the savage. It would be difUcult in one single point of unlikeness or contrast to offer a more striking illustration of the variance of tastes, temperaments, scruples, and other natural pro- clivities distinguishing the Frenchman and the English- man, as exhibited here more than two centuries ago, than in this matter of afiiliatiug with or loathing the Indian. Nor did the difference lie in the fact merely that the former pitied the Indian for his heathenism and the latter did not. Botii agreed in acknowledging that deplorable condition and exposure of the natives, though the Englishman's method of securing them deliverance from it, even if he thought it Avorth the while, was more dillicult and exact- FRENCHMEN BECOMING INDIANS. 293 ing than that of the Frenchman. But antipathy, disgust, absoUite contempt for — and if there be any stronger word for expressing the feeling — repelled the Englishman from the Indian ; while the Frenchman, in an easy, tolerant, rol- licking, or even in an affectedly sympathizing way, " took to " his red companion. The whole contrast is presented by setting before the imagination two pictures, strictly drawn to the fact. One gives us the Jesuit priest (and he was not in this distinguished by his religious character from his countrymen) occuj)ying the same filthy lodge, slec{)ing on the same flea-infested skins, and ladliug out his abominable dinner from the same caldron with a whole family of humanity and dogs. The other picture shows us the careful wife of the Apostle Eliot doing up for him a wallet of clean, however frugal food, as he mounted his horse for his eighteen miles' ride to Natick, where when hungry he ate it in his own private sitting and sleeping apartment in a loft of the Indian mceting-housc. But the French really assimilated with the Indians, nei- ther raising nor i-ecognizing any barrier of race, habit, or antipathy between them. They even seem to a large ex- tent to have been actually attracted to and won over by the features of the wild life, and the .vild free ways of those who led it. The easy adoption of this kind of life by vast numbers of Frenchmen, including daily habits, dress, food and the revolting ways of preparing it, love of roving and adventure in hunting and trapping, ability and endurance in rough and daring enterprise and exposure, — all goes to prove that this assimilation with savagery was of natural prompting and proclivity. There were charms and joys for thousands of the light-hearted, pliable, and reckless rovers from old F'ance — its peasants, its soldiers, its convicts and criminals, and none the less for its nobles and courtiers — in the range and lawlessness and wild indulgences of their forest companions. Of course the savages heartily re- sponded to and genially accepted all this accordancy and M i 294 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. abandon of their once civilized visitors. The Frcncli thus from the first won an influence over tlieir savage intimates w^hicli the English never in the slightest degree attained, nor even seem to have desired to win. I have noticed many slight but most significant tokens of the fact, that, when in some occasionally critical emergencies it was quite important for the English to conciliate or draw into action with them any one conspicuous individual, party, or tribe of the Indians, the work was set about in a blundering, dic- tatory, or Jiarsh way, which would seem likely to defeat the object aimed for. " Brothers," or " Children," was the term constantly on the lips of the French in addressing the na- tives. I do not find the words as ever employed by the Pui-itau fathers of New England. The French priests were always more than willing to unite a Frenchman and an In- dian woman in Christian wedlock. I cannot conceive that John Eliot would have approved or sanctioned the relation between one of his own countrymen and the most pious woman among his native converts. The few lingering rem- nants of the old tribes in New England are all of them of blood mixed from the African. Not many, if indeed any, specimens of this mixture could be found among the half- breeds of the North and the West. Had it ever been desir- able or likely that the solution of the problem of two races on this continent should have been sought or found in their assimilation, the French would have been the most likely medium for securing the result. They had, indeed, made considerable progress towards it, and many every way re- spectable and flourishing families in Canada and the Red River region attest its degree of success. If ever, in any case under the stress of circumstances and exigencies, the French felt a distrust or dread of the Indians, or were watchful of their craft and treachery, they took pains to conceal all tokens of the sort. When strol- ling Indians or chiefs on business errands visited the French trading-posts or forts, they were made much of; TRADERS IN CANADA. 296 they were allowed to strut with full complacency in their forest bravely and toggery; their conceit and dignity were not reduced ; the meal, the cam}>fire, and the bod were shared with them on a footing of perfect equality; they were cajoled and feasted ; and, coming and going, were greeted with military salutes, as princely visitors. Quite otherwise was it between the English and the Indians : the distance, often wide and deep in reserve, was never over- come. By this natural — and if at some times assumed — assimilation with the natives, the French won a vast prestige with them. On a signal occasion the French Gov- ernor Frontcnac, much to the admiration of his barbarous spectators and friends, put himself in Indian array, feath- ei'cd, greased, and painted, while he howled and yelled and gesticulated in the war-dance in rivalry of any native braves. lie has an extraordinarily daring imagination who can present to himself a sober governor of any New Eng- land colony in that guise. Sir William Johnson, tlie British Indian Agent, said, however, that on some occasions he had worn their garb. The representatives of France among our Indian tribes from her earliest enterprises on the continent were com- posed of three classes, — priests, fur-traders, and sol- diers ; but little account being made of colonists, in the full sense of the word, as planters, attaching themselves to spaces of cleared land, from which they intended to draw their full subsistence. The soldiers are no longer here, tliough they hold such a place in the history of the con- tests for rival empire on tlie continent. The priests and the fur-traders have kept themselves in living activity, though with a wasting and less significant hold and range in the develoi)ments of tlie last century. The traffic of the traders in Canada — distinguishing them from those in Acadia and off the coast as fishermen — was almost exclusively confined to peltry. The trade was a source of constant vexation, annoyance, rivalry, and quar- T 296 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. i I ii I' i 1 relling among the adventurers and settlers. A monopoly of it had been given successivel" to different individuals, who utterly failed to secure its privileges. Then a joint company of adventurers sought to control it by a partner- ship in expenses and in-olits. But they were openly defied by single persons, whose common plunderings interested them so strongly that they had substantially the influence of a banded fellowship acting without a charter. In the spring or early summer the Indians, from the far-off scenes where they had been patiently gathering the coveted peltry, would congregate in clamorous hordes near Montreal with their laden canoes, to barter their cargoes. Scenes of blood, of riot, and of drunkenness ensued, and the once quiet wil- derness heard every sound of a Babel of tongues vociferous in passion and imprecations. This bartering of tlie cover- ings of animals for the lives of men, skin for skin, was beyond measure demoralizing. Soon the most dauntless of the French would stroll off, alone or in couples, to dis- tant beaver dams and forest treasuries, or rival traders would waylay an incoming party and anticii)ate the regu- lar market. The brandy trafhc, too, flourished with a vigor that defied police, military, and spiritual threats and pro- hibitions. It might be debated whether such sway as France once had here should in its predominance be assigned to the priests or the traders. Repeatedly and emphatically was it afhrmed by the principal promoters of the first coloniz- ing of New England, that the chief and paramount end of their coming hither Avas religion. By their own interpre- tation of the scope of their meaning, we imderstand them to have included in this avowal the enjoyment of their own religion and the conversion to it of the heathen tribes. But practically viewed, the relative place of interest which the religious prompting proved to have, in comparison with mundane schemes of thrift, trade, and commerce, will de- pend upon the severity or the leniency of the judgment CATHOLICS AND HUGUENOTS. 297 which wc visit upon the New England colonists. No can- did student of our history, however, can fail to allow and affirm that the founders of New France in America, in their zeal and heroic toil and endurance for the conversion of the savages, present us on the records examples of noble- ness and devotion which Puritan history cannot ])arallel. True, the words "religion" and "conversion" signified very different things — in substance, in processes, in methods, in tests, and results — to the Puritan and the Jesuit; and it is no breach of charity to say that the Jesuit was fully satisfied with tokens of success which the Puritan re- garded as utterly insignificant, and even mockingly futile and false. We may but incidentally anticipate here a sub- ject which will later engage a chapter in this volume, in an examination of the priestly and Protestant aims, methods, and results in the attempts for Christianizing the Indians. The Jesuits present themselves for brief notice at this point as one of the three first representatives of France in the New World. The Jesuit's method was by ritual, Avith an altar, however rude, with scenic demonstra- tions, a procession in the woods following the cross, if but just cut from the forest, and graced by a flock of naked savages bearing their bayberry torches. The Puritan's method was by doctrine, — a body of divinity, didactic teaching, and experimental cases of conscience. The good Apostle Eliot put the Indian vocabulary to a severe strain in opening to them high Calvinism, — with adoption, elec- tion, reprobation, justification, etc. But the Jesuits were not the first of the Roman priesthood in New France. The measures for the introduction into New France of religion and its missionaries, to secure the avowed object of the conversion of the savages, were at first wholly lack- ing in zeal, and were soon sadly complicated by the mix- ture of Catholics and Huguenots, alike worldly in their enterprises, and by rivalries between the Franciscan and Jesuit orders. Father Gabriel Sagard, a lldcollet, of the T 298 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. \ ■hi.' m i ■ I i ■i i ' ' ■ J i Franciscan Friars, is the faithful historian of the struggles and contentions involved in this missionary work.^ The editor of Sagard says it was dilhcult to (luickon any zeal for the work in France. lie makes light of the assump- tion of the Pope in giving over the whole continent to the Spaniards and the Portuguese, and thinks the Papal oracle as ahsurd as if it had aflirmed that America did not exist, and had excommunicated any one wlio might say that the earth had two hemispheres. Tiie editor also quotes the "fine raillery" of Francis L about tliesc grasp- ing claimants: "Eh, how is this? They quietly divide between them the whole of America, without allowing me to share in it as their brother. I wish much to sec the item in Adam's testament which bequeaths them this vast heritage." ^ The Huguenot Sieur De Monts, while the patent for Acadia was in his hands, brought over with him in 1G04 a minister and a priest, besides a miscellaneous company of convicts and rufiians, the sweepings of the prisons and purlieus. The two divines not only quarrelled in their arguments, but came to fisticuffs. Sagard tells us that soon after coming to land they both died, near the same time, and that the sailors, who buried them in a common grave, wondered if, having been in such strife in lil'e, they could lie peacefully together in the ])it.^ Two Jesuit priests came to Acadia in 1(311, but did not long remain. One of them. Father Biard, was taken with Saussaye in ArgaU's raid at Mt. Desert. He narrowly escaped the halter in Virginia, and the being thrown over- board off the Azores, lest he should betray there to the Catholic authorities the deeds of his Protestant captors. But ho was snugly hidden under deck while the vessel was searched, and getting back to France might have resumed 1 Histoiro du Canada, et Voyages que les Freres Mineurs Jleoollets y ont faits pour la conversion dcs InfidMes, depuis I'An 1615 : par Gabriel Sagard Deodat. Kd. par H. firaile Chevalier. Paris, 1866. 2Vol. i.p. xi. 8Vol. i. p. 26. Rl5C0LLETS IN CANADA. 299 his professorship of tlicology at Lyons. The other Acadian Jesuit, Fatlicr Encmund Masse, was afterwards a mission- ary in Canada. Tlie first missionaries to Canada were four of the Franciscan friars who arrived in Quebec in May, 1615. Sagard is their faithful eulogian. His last editor reflects on the Jesuit historians Garneau and Charlevoix for their neglect and light esteem of Sagard's work. The friars appeared in their monkish garb of rope-girdled and hooded robes, and bare feet shod with heavy wooden san- dals, — not a very fitting foot-gear for the egg-shell canoes in which they were to pass to their missions. They cele- brated the first mass in Canada on June 25, 1U15, in a little chapel which they built at Quebec. The first burial there with holy rites Sagard records as that of " Michel Colin," March 24, IGIG. One of the friars. Father Dol- beau, went with a band of the Montagnais up the Saguenay in Dcccmbei'. Reduced, after two months, near to blind- ness and much agony from the smoke of the filthy lodges, he prudently judged, says Sagard, that our Lord did not require of him the loss of his sight, but that he ought care- fully to guard what was so essential to him for his great enterprise.^ Another of the brethren. Father Le Caron, bravely accom[)anied a band of Hurons returning up the Ottawa, from tlieir voyage down with furs to Montreal. He wisely had a lodge of his own on the outskirts of their village, where he wintered. He celebrated the first mass there Aug. 12, 1615. He wrote frankly to a friend of all the disagreeables, the disgusts, and terrible hardships of his new mode of life. But he cheerily adds : " Abundant consolation I found under all my troubles ; for when one sees so many infidels needing nothing but a drop of water to make them children of Cod, he feels an inexpressible ardor to labor for their conversion, and sacrifice to it his repose and his life." ^ * Sagard, vol. i. p. 40. * Parkman: Pioneers, etc., p. 364. IT 800 VHE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. Mi J !!^ Sagard was liimsclf a missionary for many years among tlic llurons; and, besides a Dictionary of their language, he wrote a very interesting book upon tlic country and its people. 1 He seems to have been a guileless and simpl'j-heartcd man, homesick at times, but zealous in his work. His credulity was extreme, and he was greatly disturbed by the demoniacal vaporings and tricks which were thought to infest the land and the people. lie was adopted by an In- dian family, and was finally reconciled to make his prin- cipal food of sagamite, the Indian maize. The mission of the Rccollets was superseded by the coming of Jesuit Fatliers to Canada in 1G25. Henceforth none but faithful disciples of the Roman Church were to be allowed to abide there. As a reader of the sources of history for the time and place muses over the record, he pauses to ask whether these spiritual guides found their own countrymen or the savages the more tractable and hopeful subjects of their gliostly charge. A rough set alike they were for such over- sight. One contrasts in thought and fancy the work of teaching and discipline there with that contemporaneously going on in the meeting-houses and homes of the New Eng- land Puritans. We may be sure that the Canadian was far lighter and most easy where that of the Puritans was most austere and grim ; yet what verdict has time and trial set upon the long results of the two methods! The whole influence and example of Champlain and of a few devout men and women were given to encourage the priests within their own holy functions. But they had a restive, wild, and unrcgcnerate crew around them, and it was not easy to bring them even to outward reverence for the ritual. Oc- casionally, after years of lawless and wholly ungirt roaming ^ Le Grand Voyage du pays dos Hurons, situe en I'Amerique vers la Mer douce, es deruiers confins de la nouvelle France, dite Canada, etc. A Paris, 1632. FRENCH HALF-BUEEDa. 801 ill tho wilderness, a coureur de boia or a voyageiir, under Bomo prickings of conscience, would come into the settle- ment that he might obtain shriving, at least for the past. If he made a clean breast of it, a guileless-hearted priest must have felt a heavier burden lying upon him than that which the penitent hoped to throw olf. A more favorable character is given by a good authority of some of the descendants of this race of men. The Earl of Dufferin, late Govcrnor-Ceneral of Canada, on his return way from his interesting overland visit to British Coluuibia, in September, 1877, in addressing a meeting at Winnipeg, made the following laudatory reference to this class of men, of whose character and influence he had had opportunities of observation : — "There is no doubt that a great deal of tho good feeling subsist- ing between tlic red men and ourselves is due to the inlluenco and interposition of that iuvahuible class of men, tlie half-breed settlers and pioneers of j\binitoba, avIio — combining as tliey do tho hardi- hood, tho endurance, and lovo of enterprise generated by tho strain of Indian l)l()od within their veins, with the civihzation, the instruc- tion, and tlie intellectual power derived from their fathers — liave preached the gospel of peace and good-will and mutual respect, with results beneficent alike to the Indian chieftain in his lodge and to tho British settler in his shanty. Tliey have been the ambassadors between the East and tlie West, the interpreters of civilization and its exigencies to tlie dwellers on the prairie, as well as tho exponents to the white man of the consideration justly due to tlie suscepti- bilities, the sensitive self-respect, tlie prejudices, tho innate craving for justice of the Indian race. In fact they have done for the col- ony what otiierwise would have been left unaccomplished ; and they have introduced between tho white population and tlie red man a traditional feeling of amity and friendship, which but for them it miglit have been impossible to establish." ' These remarks of the Earl gave high gratification to his auditors, many of whom were of the class to whom he re* I ^ Speeches and Addresses of the Earl of Dufferin. London, 1882. pp. 237 238. I i ! ft i 'I » 1 I! 802 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. fcrrcd, thouf^li generally of a mixture of other than French blood. Some of these hulf-breeds in the Northwest arc called "Metis." Nor did the j)riests wholly escape the jealousies and reproaches of the more intelligent of their flock, whose rivali'ies in trade, whose intrigues and quarrels, either as rebuked or espoused by the Jesuits, brought ujmn some of the latter the imj)utation of having an interest in the peltry and even in the brandy traflic. A study of the work of these French priests will occupy a subse(iuent chapter. Wo nnist note, not only the difference, but the fun- damental and radical antagonism between the motives, agencies, and principles under which French and English cnterijrisc and colonization began upon this continent, so far as they have a bearing upon their relations with the natives. The French, who had by some lifty years the start in tlicir earliest tentative voyages for prospecting and trade, came here with royal grants and j)rivileges, with the patronage of court nobles, and the sanction and zeal of powerful ecclesiastical orders. They retained an unbroken connection with the primary sources of power and authority at home. Viceroys of France were the governors of the colony, reporting to and receiving orders from the chief cabinet minister, and frequently directly to and from the sovereign. Military sway, Avith martial vigor and applian- ces, controlled the administration of the colony. But, by an intricate and confused method in the supreme super- vision of the enterprise, there was introduced an element of constant irritation and quarrelling in the direction of affairs, by the appointment, under the title of Intendant, of a sort of civil officer whose functions and powers, not sharply distinguished from those to be exercised by the viceroy or the governor, were ever bringing the two heads into quarrelling over cross purposes, rights, and dig- nities. The Governor and the Intendant kept a jealous watch on each other, conciliated and won their respective THE IROQUOIS ENEMIES. o08 partisans and abettors, sot traps and played intrij^ues for mutual aniioyanco, and by separate eluumcls of intert'ourse tliroujifh rhal parties at court did what was in their power to make mischief for each other. J^elf-de[)eu(U>nee, inde- pendenee of foreiu;!! oversight, authority, and aid wei(! what was never for a moment meditated or desired l)y Ww Fieneh here, at any stiig-e or }teriod of their colonization. New France was not only as much a part of the empire as any portion of tlie i-ealni, but it wt;s to be, so far as cii'cum- stances wouhl allow, a(hniiustercd as a h'>mc province, with 0. transfer of feudal institutions, seigniories, bishopries, proprietary I'iglits, noble and privileged orders, and stingy allotments for common people. As the event pi'oved, these distinctive and primary characteristics of Frencli dominion in America, so widely contrasted with the course and ])rin- cijtles of the English colonists, could not be transferred from the Old World so that they woidd take root hero. They were uncongenial with, disastrous to, any hopeful en- tcr{)rise. And we are to find in this fundanumtal quality of Frencli dominion, Avith all the zeal and heroism engaged in it, the reason for the fact that France has no heritage hero. By no means, however, is it to be inferred that the French were in all cases politic, humane, or just towards the Indians. On the contrary, there were tribes, the Iro- quois especially, to whom the French were from the first and always a scourge, relentless and destructive. Raid after raid was mnde from Canada, beginning with Champlain, into the domains of the Five Nations; and when the sav- ages fled from the armed hosts, their pleasant villages were wasted and their granaries and cornfields destroyed to bring them to starvation. One act of shameful atrocity, with darlv treachery, Avas perpetrated by the French, in 1G87, on some peaceful and confiding Iroquois at Cadarakui, the captives from which. La Potlierie says, forty in number, were sent to France to work in the galleys. Charlevoix 804 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. tells US that Louis had written to the Governor of Canada.^ La Barre : " As it is o^ importance to the good of my ser- vice to diminish as much as possible tlie number of the Iroquois, and that as these savages, wlio are strong and robust, will serve usefully in my galleys, I desire tliat you will do everything in your power to make as many of them as possible prisoners of war, and send them over to France." Some of the survivors were afterwards brought back to Canada. How unlike were the way, the means, and the intent of the first English colonists on the Atlantic seaboard! The most resolute, the most successful of them, — those the fruits of whose enterprise have been the richest aiul the most perma- nent, — stole away, we may say, from England, under a covert. The New England colonists asked no royal patron- age beyond that going with their parchment charters, the main int<)nt and value of which were to secure their terri- torial rights and jurisdiction against foreign rivals and jealous intruders of their own stock. They neither bor- rowed nor begged supplies in ships, armaments, or subsist- ence. They sent homo no reports of progress or failure to the ollicials of the mother country, nor received from her any challenge to return a reckoning to lier. No civil or military function was discharged among them by commis- sion or appointment from abroad ; but their magistrates, judges, and captains were elected from among themselves. Occasionally, under the sharp pressure of their poverty or misfortunes, or in the apprehension of some collision with the Dutch or the French, a suggestion was dropped by one or another of the less sturdy of the New England stock, that they should look to the mother pountry for counsel or help. But the timid purpose Avas at once repudiated, on the ground that tlie call upon England for the slightest favor, or even the acceptance of one unasked, would alTord a pre- text to her for intermeddling in the affairs of her exiled offspring, whose spirit and direction of self-management ^^ HUGUENOTS IN CANADA. 305 indicated from tlic first that same sense of virtual inde- pendence as asserted itself in tlie fulness of time in our Revolutionary War. So wliile the Old-World feudalism and despotism underlaid tlie colonization enterprise of New France, and sought to reproduce and reconstruct itself among tliese forests on our North and West, a pure and rejuvenated democracy was rooting itself and rearing its popular institutions and sway among the hard-worliing farmers of New England wlieu their settlements were still on the seahoard. Possibly if France liad alUnved and encouraged, instead of expressly proliibiting, her heretic Huguenots to represent her in her New-World coloniza- tion, she might still have had provinces and dominion liere. But a Puritan democracy, inoculating the system of Eng- lishmen, proved to be the right spirit and constituency for securing a heritage in the New World. Wlietlier, indeed, tlie Huguenot faith and blood transported hitlier might not have adapted itself to and improved for noble uses this free opportunity for colonial empire, is a question which might be differently answered. No great statesman sug- gested this metliod for disposing of that ever-increasing body of heretics which no edicts, disabilities, threatenings, or aggravation of cruelty could suppress, and which was not exterminated by the shocking nuissacre on St. IJartho- lomow's day. IJoth England and New England were glad to welcome such of the hounded exiles from France as sought in them a refuge. Those who found in either place a new home, with fields and workshops for their iiulustry 'and thrift, and causes to engage their patriotism for the places of their adoption, have incorporated their dcscend- ■ ants into the most honored ranks of society. But if Old France had opened New France even only as a place of en- forced banishment for the Huguenots, leaving them without threatening or burdens to make the best of new homes in the wilderness, two results worthy of the exercise of a nation's wisdom in council and foresight would have fol- 20 Ill - 306 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS, lowed. France would have been saved from some dreadful stains of persecution now on her annals, and the affinity be- tween the Huguenots and the Puritans of New England would have greatly modified that century and a half of warfare whicli was waged by two sovereignties and their subjects here. If France had none the less been despoiled of all her territory here, she would have been more largely represented by Frenchmen all over the continent. Wliat effect, if any, this possible transfer hither of a large French population, witli political and religious pro- clivities in accord with those which have gained the mas- tery here, would have had upon the fortunes of the Indian tribes, it might bo difficult to decide. So far as the substi- tute in Canada of a Protestant for a Roman Catholic people would have qualified the hostility of Puritan New England (that it woidd have largely done so is altogether prob- able), there would have been less occasion for and embit- terment of the rivalries and jealousies which brought in the Indians, — never in the dignified position of unijiires, hardly even in the equality of allies, — to find themselves losers in every case, whichever of the principals claimed the advantage. Certain it is th.at the contentions between the English and the French, engaging their respective In- dian allies, were intensely aggravated by the differences in religion of the principal combatants. It was at a time when the hatred of the Papacy and the Papists was aggra- vated for all Englishmen by the policy and diplomacy which entered into the intrigues of European pcoi)les en- gaged in the rival ecclesiastical systems. Massachusetts followed the statutes of England in sharj) legislation against the Papists, in the view of the French Canadian Covern- ment it was but an axiom of natural reason, a pronqjting of common-sense, that they should engage and employ In- dian allies. But this obvious suggestion did not at all relieve the matter in the view of the Puritans. It was enough for them, — in their amazement, protests, and INFLUENCE OF THE PRIESTS. 307 it groans, — that Papists, calling themselves Christians, should engage the tomahawks and fiiehrands against even lieretics, who also, after a sort, were Christians. There was a region between Acadia and the Penobscot and Kennebec rivers which was always in controversy as a boundary between the European claimants, while the Indians insisted that they had never parted with its own- ership. This region was the scene of desperate encoun- ters, of pillagings, slaughter, and burnings ; the English being the chief, though by no means the only, sufferers. Nor did the savages confine their warfare of ambushes and night surprises to that region, but they came alarm- ingly near to Boston. The Puritans were maddened by the suspicion, often assured by positive knowledge, that the French priests inspirited, indicated, and directed these assaults, and sometimes accompanied the war-parties of the savages. This c()m})laint was hardly a consistent one, coming from those whose ministers were an equal power in military and civil as in religious affairs. The English also were wont to take chaplains on their expeditions. There is on record a graphic sketch of a vigorous con- flict between a minister and a priest, on a sj)ot of con- tested territory, to assume the spiritual charge of a band of heathen, already nominal disciples of the Roman Church. Indeed religion, in anything but name, keeps itself well out of this fearful strife. In the melancholy relation now to follow, the Roman i)riests stand charged with a most odious agency. A tragic incident in the long struggle between the French and English, with their respective Indian allies, on our northern bounds, connects itself with the forcible re- moval, in 1755, of a i)eo])le in Acadia, known as the " French Neutrals." TIk; theme has been wrought by the pen of genius, with all the richest charms of ro- mance and tender sentiment, into the exquisite narrative and descriptive poem " Evangeline." In the interests of fi 308 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. liard, liistoric truth, with all its stern, acrimonious, and distressing aggravations, we must read that incident in sober and saddening prose. Acadia, or Nova Scotia, the oldest French colony in North America, had been for near a century and a half occupied by that people, and had always been a scene of distraction and destruction. The peninsula, in the fortunes of rivalry and war, be- sides passing by royal patent from one to another French proprietary, had been transferred some half-a-dozen times by treaty negotiations alternately to the English and French crowns. That single statement tells the tale of what sea and shore had witnessed. The treaty of Utrecht, in 1713, closing one of the paroxysms of strife, had ceded it to England. It was never to be transferred again ; but the tenure of it was long at risk, and the possession of it was worse than of doubtful value to the English. There were at the time about twenty-five hundred French in- habitants. There was, of course, an uncertainty, keeping open a dispute, as to what were its bounds. The English soon found that it Avas the purpose of the French to re- strict tlicse as narrowly as possible. The English drew the boundary line as east from the mou^^h of the Kenne- bec to Quebec, including the southern shore and islands. The latter insisted that the St. John and the lands north of the Bay of Fundy were not included in the cession, and that Acadia signified only the southern part of what is now Nova Scotia. It was provided by the treaty that the subjects of the King of France in Acadia might, within a year, move away at their pleasure, disposing of their real and personal property ; or, if they chose to remain, might retain their religion and their priests, and be as free in all respects as British subjects under Britisli laws. As successive British sovereigns came to the throne, orders were sent over that these so-called Neutrals should take the oath of allegiance, while not required to bear arms agauist the French or for the DEATH OP FATHER RALLE 309 English. Under tho influence of their priests, threaten- ing them with ecclesiastical penalties, they were warned not to transfer their allegiance, but to keep their loyalty to France, and to refuse the required oath. Tho priests in Acadia Averc r.nder the pay of the French Government, and received secret counsels from the authorities in Canada. Of course there was a state of restlessness, insubordina- tion, and not even concealed lawlessness and rebell- ion, — waiting for another cast of the dice of warfare or diplomacy. There was a continual series of aggres- sions, inroads, assaults, and slaughters upon the English settlers on the outskirts of Maine, New IIami)shire, and Massachusetts. These were instigated from Canada, and the Acadian priests were believed to be engaging their flocks in open or secret connivance. The Indians claimed as theirs the lands on the Kennebec, on which the English were steadily intruding. In reprisal tlic latter enlisted and sent tlieir Avar-{)arties for punisli- ment and vengeance. On a second attack, made in 1724, by the English and some ^lohawk allies, upon tlie Indian village of Norridgewok, during the sa(;k and burning of the houses and the church Father Rallc was killed and scalped. He was then sixty-seven years old, enfeebled by twenty-six years of hard service in the woods, and much beloved by his red disciples. He was a devoted missionary and a scholar. His dictionary of the language of his Indi- ans is preserved in the Library of Harvard College. Tlie Englisli rejoiced over his violent end, as they regarded him as a crafty enemy, and believed from his papers which they rifled that the evidence was complete of his evil machina- tions from instructions received from Canada. In an ambush in one of tho raids of the savages Captain Jo- siali Winslow was killed. He was a brother of General Jolm Winslow, who on this account might have thrown warm will into his charge of removing the Neutrals from Acadia. M 310 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. After thirty years of a qualified sort of peace between France and England, trouble again opened in 1743, which of course signified a renewal of open conflict between the Europeans and the red men here. Tlic great and enor- mously costly stronghold of Louisburg, into which the constructive skill and the lavish outlay of France had been wrought for thirty years, was talicn by a colonial and p]ng- lisli army and fleet, and having capitulated on June 15, 1745, its vast stores and defences were removed. After this first capture it was restored to the French by treaty. It was again taken by the English in 1758, when its walls were dismantled, and all the toil and money spent upon it showed a heap of wreck. Another interval of rage and havoc followed. French fleets and armies were to sweep the coasts and destroy Boston, as well as drive out the English from all their Eastern strongholds ; but tempests and deadly pestilence thwarted the enterprise. This war was closed by the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapellc in 1748. If one could search the depths and the soundings of the (Julf of St. Lawrence and of all the coasts of northern New England and the British Provinces, what harrowing secrets would be revealed of wrecks of heavily armed frigates, and of vessels of every name and size, which have gone down there in storm and battle, carrying with them their human freight sinking to death in the rage of passion or in the dreads and liorrors of the method of their end ! What engines of havoc, what implements, fabrics, and fruits of peaceful ingenuity and industry are buried in those dank chambers of the ocean, the watery trophies of the victory of the elements over the common spoilings of humanity ! After the English had held Acadia for thirty years, they liad notiiing to siiow for it except the cost of the charge. Many schemes and attempts were devised to bring in Eng- lish settlers and residents. Here arose the troubles with the uncongenial and hostile people tlicn in occupancy, the French Neutrals, who insisted upon remaining as French, li CHARACTER OF THE ACADIANS. 311 refusing the oath of allegiance to Britain, though at times threatening to remove from their lands. The evidence is sufficient and undeniable that they were under tlie inlluenee of a priest, Le Loutre ; and it was but to be expected that ho should exercise that influence in the French interest. Tliis priest was to the English especially odious, as not only intermeddling with civil affairs out of his clerical province, — as did all his brethren, much to the disgust and annoyance even of the French magistrates when they controlled Acadia, — but as a most crafty and treacherous and vicious man, engaged also in profitable ti-ade. He was Vicai^-Gencral of Acadia under the ecclesiastical rule of Quebec, and was the agent of all disaffection and mischief. He threatened to wUhhold the sacraments from all his flock who succumbed to the English, and to set the Indians upon them. Orders came from the English Government that these Neutrals who would not come under allegiance should be removed. We all know how romance and poetry invest them. What were they in condition, character, temper, and naked reality to those who had to deal with them in ear jiest ? The Abbe Raynal seems to have been the first to intro- duce into literature the ideal view of the Acadians, as a gentle, loving, peaceful, pastoral people, in sweet innocence and home delights sharing the joys and prosperity of a sim- ple, guileless life. He mistook Acadia for Arcadia. He had a purpose in his essay : it was to set in contrast the pros- perity and happy condition of .these transatlantic villagers with that of the peasants of France before the Revolution. So he heightens every element and coloring of that con- trast. He says the Acadians had no quarrels, no lawsuits, no poverty. Their loved and unworldly ])riests settled all their variances, made their wills, and guided their affairs. With mutual sympathy and generosity they relieved each other's misfortunes. Early marriages averted celibacy and i : T^ 312 THR FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. vice. Their liouses were as substantial and comfortable as those of Euro[)can farmers. With their flocks and fields and cattle and fruits and laden barns they filled the round of a happy existence. Those who had to deal with these Neutrals as neighbors, magistrates, military ofiicers, report them to us very differ- ently. Wo must let reason and candor mediate for us as we hesitate between romance and reality. Tlie records of governors of Acadia, both French and English, with official and other papers, are preserved in abundance and of full authenticity. Alike these complain of the mischievous and malignant influence of the priests over the people as arbi- trary and treacherous, and tending always to alienation and strife, and urging to a resistance of government. The people are described as idle, restless, roaming as bush- rangers, dissolute among the Indians, leading a squalid and shabby life. The council at Quebec and the English courts were worried with their ])etty and constant litiga- tion. Their dwellings were " wretched wooden boxes," dila])idated and filthy, and without celhirs. Nor was this all that was alleged to their reproach and offence : they were called " neutrals ; " but i)arties of them had been known to have prompted and engaged in the bloody raids of the Indians on the English settlements, to have done many acts of violence and treachery, to have acted as spies and informers, and to have supplied the French with cattle and grain while refusing such trade with the English garri- son. The great Seven Years' War between France and England was then threatening across the water, the direst rage of which was to be felt by the colonies of England here, Braddock's defeat in 1755 opening the series of catas- trophes. The French monarch was working his own Ifu- guenot subjects in the galleys, while the English masters of Acadia covenanted to the Neutrals their own religion and priests. The English said thnt they would gladly have had the Acadians remain if the) could have been relied REMOVAL OF THE ACADIANS. 313 upon as merely liarmlcss. They were not oppressed by any burden, or subject to any tax save that which then- own priests exacted of them. It is believed that they would have been content, and would have come under British allegiance, had it not been for the malif^n and defiant iuHu- cncc of those priests. The Englisli aflirmcd that they were at great charge for keeping up 'garrisons ; that for forty years they had had no benefit from their treaty ])osses- sion ; that they could not hiduce their own countrymen to come in as colonists, unwekomed by such uncongenial neighbors ; and that the j^rofessed Neutrals were among them an ever-threatening element, ready to turn to most ac- tive enmity as military or dii)lomatical complications might afford the opportunity. A thousand of the Acadians had indeed moved away voluntarily in 1750, leaving their houses and barns to be destroyed by the Indians. Nearly double the numl)er that were soon to bo forcibly removed by the English, had been induced or compelled by the French to withdraw from tlie end of the {)cninsula to the north of it, and were there a threatening power. Under this condition of things the English governor, Lawrence, acting by instructions from the King through Lord Halifax, after disarming many of the remaining Neu- trals, made most dclil)erate and persistent efforts, but all in vain, to induce them to take the oath of allegiance. Deputies sent from their different villages positively re- fused to do so. In counsel with the Covcrnor and two English admirals, who advised the measure, it was decided that those thus recusant should be removed with their families, taking with them their money and household effects, and that they should be supplied with provisions and distributed over the southern provinces at distances which would prevent any concert between them. Addi- tional reasons were found for this measure in charges that the Neutrals were idle and improvident, and had neglected field labor and fishing, as most naturally would be the case Ailr^-- ! u 314 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. under the uncertainties and anxieties of their condition. The proffer of French authorities to transport tlie Neutrals to France was rejected, as not likely to be fairly and fully carried out. The measure having been decided upon, steps were at once taken to effect it, and different agents were appointed to complete the design at the different villages. The in- habitants of Chiegnccto fled into the woods and kept out of the way. All who could adirm th- . \\c\ 'lad not been in arms against the English, and .._ .lU at last take the oath, were at liberty to remain. Colonel John Winslow, of Massachusetts, in command at Mines, did his work witli resolution and completeness. Of the iidiabitants, four hun- dred and eighteen unarmed men were enticed into their . church, on Sept. 5, 1755, as if to listen to a message from the King of England. By a bold ruse thoy were seized and borne to the waiting vessels. Nearly two thousand were removed from Mines, and eleven hundred from Anna- polis. A party of two hundred and twenty-six Acadians seized the vessel in which they were conveyed, made off with it, and were not recovered. About three thousand in all were removed. They were distributed over the prov- inces, of course as a public charge, a burden and a nuisance to those who were compelled to receive them, forlorn, home- less, wretched, and sick at heart themselves. At intervals of between a few months and several years about two thirds of them, in various ways, got back to their loved Acadia.^ Such is the rehearsal of this tragic story as it stands on the pages of authentic history. No morbidness of senti- 1 In dealing with this painful episode, I have been greatly indebted to and have gladly followed the lead of llr. James Hannay, in his " History of Acadia, from its First Discovery to its Surrender to England by the Treaty of Paris. St. John, N. B., 1879." The author, most thorough and compre- hensive, in his documentary research shows also a judicial and most candid spirit, seeking to present botli sides in a harrowing historical incident, and affording his readers of different sympathies the means of strengthening their own from the full and calm statements which he seta before tliem. DISPERSION OP THE ACADIAN3. 315 mcnt, no tricks of fancy, arc needed to enhance ita sad- ness; for it is indeed a most piteous story. Allowing it to stand in every fact, detail, argument, and vindication as related and urged by the Englisli, it still records one of the most distressing outrages which either military or dif>- lomatic policy or necessity has instigated and carried out amid civilized scenes of the earth. We may in measure and degree exculjjate the English, and perliai)S alhrm that there was no alternative course for them under their annoy- ances, perplexities, and aggravations ; but still we can put ourselves into such sympathetic and appreciative relations with the victims — if of necessity and circumstance — as to sec only what they saw, to feel as they felt, and to con- fess that their course would most likely have been our own. They were a rude and sim])le peasant race. Their priests represented to them the law of their highest reverence and allegiance. Their home had been amid the forests and fields and ocean shores of their jieninsula for four or five generations. In spite of fog and ice and long, dreary win- ters, they had prospered by the farm, the fishery, and the hunt ; they had flocks and herds. Tliey had perpetuated among them the characteristics of the peasant life of France when their ancestors came hither. Their range of exist- ence was narrow ; their habits were mean and earthy, with much that was merely animal and sordid. All the more was what they had of joy and good and ojjportunity, and as- sociated fellowship in interest and pleasure, very precious to tliem. They loved to hold dear the tie to their beloved France. They might yet come again under its i)rotection. They had no reason to respect or to succumb to the Eng- lish : loyalty and religion drew their hearts another way. They had to witness and mourn over the wreck of their domestic life. They were scattered, unwelcome, and only as objects of dislike and disgust among uncongenial scenes and strajigers. Often — but not with intent, or heartless- ness of cruelty — families among them were parted never 816 THF3 FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. u to bo knit top:etlior again. Wc acknowlcfljrod, in entering upon this narration, a conflict between its rehearsal as his- tory and its drapery in romance. I]ut there is no need of admitting this. Amid all the stern or disagreeable aspects of this prose tragedy, there arc elements from which poetry may work its richest, fairest, and tendcrest wreathings of sentiment, with the human heart to prompt and to respond to its melanelioly images of devastated scenes and tortured affections. Evangelines and Gabriels arc the representa- tives of a large fellowship of parted, seeking, and hopelessly saddened sufferers.^ The tragedy at Mines and Grand Pre, with its exaspe- rating effect upon the French, might well introduce the series of horrors and catastrophes of the seven years which followed. The incidents of this closing stage of a continuous struggle must be left for summary notice in the next chapter, as belonging more strictly to the gene- ral theme of the European colonial relations with the In- dians. New actors came into those distressing scenes. The whole power of Great Britain — with competent and incompetent leaders, with councils of various degrees of wisdom and weakness — was engaged in that decisive cam- paign of a protracted strife of rivalry for supreme sway in the New World. I have already plainly expressed the shock which it gives to our idea of justice in the disposal of the issues on which the honor and destiny of empire depends, that France — after all her heroism of toil, en- terprise, and exploration on this continent — should have no heritage here. On those rocky cliffs, those high-raised ' The next in the series of volumes which Mr. Parkinan has promised, as relating to the close of French dominion on this continent, is waited for with much interest. The theme is one which will engage all his talents and rich resources. Especially will his faithful researches add to our accurate knowl- edge of the tragic story of the removal of the Neutrals from Acadia. It is understood that he has possessed himself of a mass of original documents, which will throw much light upon the intrigues and secret movements of that incident. ' THE FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR. 317 plains of Qnobco, those island prandonrs overlooked by the Royal Mount, — where Cliumpliun and Frontcnac laid, in noble purj)osc, the foundations for oini)ire and glory of transatlantic France, — the sentence of destiny was pro- nounced. It was fitting that Wolfe and Montcalm, lead- ing the ranks of the combatants in the last struggle, should mingle their life-blood on the rocky field. The treaty of Paris, in 1703, left to France a little group of fishing islands, Mic^uelon and St. Pierre, off the coast of Newfoundland.* The close of the long and bloodv conflict between Great Britain with the aid of her colonies and the French with their Indian allies, which insured the conquest of Canada, by no means put a period to the presence and influence of the French on the continent, especially their influence over the Indian tribes. By their sagacious policy in dealing with the savages, their domestic and social affi- liation with them, and their generosity, they had con- ciliated the larger number of the nearest tribes, and drawn some of them under bonds of strong friendship, which hold even to this day ; so that the subjection of the French by no means secured that of the Indians to the English control. In fact, by a curious retributive working, the French left precisely the same after-penalty of savage warfare to the English which the English, 1 There ia now in course of publication, in Paris, a series of volumes under the following title : " Ducouvertes et fitablissements des Fraii(;ai3 dans L'Ouest et dans TjO Sud do L'Ameriquc Septontrionale (1614-1754) Menioirea et Documents Originaux, Recueilles et Publics par Pierre Margry, etc." Four volumes of the scries have already appeared, — the first covering the period 1614-1084, in 1875; the fourth, 1094-1703, in 1880. Ihese Memoirs and Documents are of the highest historical value and authenticity. They are printed without any accompanying note or comment, from manuscripts, and present a noble memorial of French enterprise on this continent. Their in- terest to us as a nation very properly pronn)ted the patronage of our Govern- ment in their publication. Congress subscribed for several hundred copies, which are to be improved by exchanges for other valuable publications, for the benefit of the Congressional Library. 318 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. twenty years oftcrwards, left to us when our ties of alle- giance and dependence wore severed. The formidable conspiracy which that greatest of Indian chieftains, Pon- tiac, organized among the native tribes, at the date when the triumph of Britisli power was established on tliis con- tinent, was prompted, as ho alleged, by sympathy with the French, whose supremacy ho hoped to sec re-estab- lished here. lie said he was willing to regard the King of England as his uncle, but not as his superior or sover- eign. The idea had dawned upon his master mind that the sover nty of the wilderness rested with the red men. His intelligent casting of the horoscope of the low- ering future for his race led him to seek boldly aiul con- sistently to sap the very roots of the threatening ca- lamity for them, by advising them to be no longer depend- ent on the white man's goods or to cherish any lurking partiality for the white man's habits of life. The peace, the security, the old pristine heritage and prosperity of the savage depended on his reversion to, his content with, his bold defence of, his forest domain, unviolated by the intrusion of the white man, however plausililc or profitable his errand. Pontiac had doubtless carefully, and with discrimination, weighed in the scale of his own calm judgment the gain and loss to his race of their in- tercourse with foreigners. In his view the loss predomi- nated in sum and in particulars. lie inherited the pol- icy and the sagacity of King Philip of Pokanoket, and added to them a [diilosophy which was his own. We are yet to read of the methods and stages of his success in organizing a dark conspiracy among the Indians, which came only so far short of full success that it stopped with the glutting of vengeance, the English colonists quailing before its wreakings of rage. And just here it was that England trifled with her oppor- tunity, and intensified all the toil and peril of the end she had in view. All through the previous hundred and fifty CESSION OP NEW FRANCE TO ENGLAND. 319 years tlic Freiu-li had grained great advantages by sliowing themselves to be far more sa formal cession of theii- territory, and had represented that the strongholds l)uilt within it did lutt signify a formal jjossession. Stoutly, too. had the savages repudiated the iilea of their being under obligations of allegiance in any full sense as subjciits even to the King of France: though he was their father, h(> was only a brother to the chiefs. IJluntly did English ollicers announce to them, that, being conquered, they were subjects I 320 TUB PUENCIl AND THE INDIANS. of the Britlsli king, that their land had become liis, and that the forts in their ohl domain were to represent his Majesty's sovereij^nty. Even after the force of the con- spiracy of the tribes for rooting ont the Englisii had been broken, Cohjnel Bradstreet, in his camp, in a preliminary council with some of the abettors of Pcjntiac, had the folly to require of them, as the first condition of peace, that they should submit themselves as subjects (jf ilie King of Great JJritain aiul own his sovereignty of their domain. As the Indians were never subjects of their own eliiid'tains, and never were in allegiance, it is not probable tliat they had any ideas answering to the imi)ort of those terms. One other very im]Kirtant fact is to be taken into account in connection with tliat fiercest struggle with the savages aiul the English which took place on the continent on the cession of Ciuiada and the Ohio Vallev. Embittered and humiliated Frenchmen, traders, lialf-breeds, and a very busy and pestilent class of vagabonds and ren(\gades in their interest, took pains to nerve the exasperated Indian triljes with rumors and positive assertions that their French Father had merely fallen asleep, but was awake again, and that lleets and armies were already on their way, with mighty resources, through the St. Lawrence and the Mississippi, to crush the English interlop(>rs, to protect and reinstate the natives in tlieir rights, and to renew the now halting trade, under the suspense of which they were suffering. Miscreant deceivers were on the alert to rally the faltering vigor of the enraged savages all through the stages of their bloody work, by eiterating this falsehood. The delusion was ruinous to those who trusted in it. At no period in our Indian history, including that of the war of 1812 and those of recent years, has there been extended among the tribes such a wrathful spirit, such desperate resolve, such fired malignity of rage against the whites. Tiio native chiefs, according to the measure of their intelligence, their forecast, and their wild and fervent patriotism, seem -'^■M- CONSPIRACY OP PONTIAC. 321 then first to have fully realized their impcndinc; doom, and to have siunmoned all their resources of barbarous rage, ferocity, cunning, and prowess, with something of real skill and concentration in their wilderness tactics, to avert that doom. Intelligent, fervid, pathiilic pleading and re- monstrance were not wanting from them; but hate and exas[)eration infuriated them. Then came npon the scene that ablest and most daring and resolute savage chieftain known in our history. There have been three conspicuous men of the native race, — the towering chieftains of the forest, signal types of all the characteristics of the savage, einiobled, so to speak, by their lofty patriotism, — who have api)eared on the scene of action at the three most critical eras for the white man on this continent. If the material and stock of such men arc not exhausted, there is no longer for them a sphere, a range, an occasion or opportunity in place or time here. The white man is the master of this continent. An In- dian conspiracy would prove abortive in the paucity or discordancy of its materials. What the great sachem ^Ic- tacomet, or King Philip, was in the first rooting of the New Entjland colonies, which he throttled almost to the death throe ; what Tecumsch was in the internal shocks attend- ing our last war with Great Britain, — Pontiae, a far greater man than either of them, in council and on the field, was in the strain and stress of the occasion offered to him after the cession of Canada. Pontiae conceived, and to a largo extent effected, the compacted organization of many of the most powerful of the Western tribes, in a conspiracy for crushing the English as they were about to take possession of unbounded territory here in the name and right of tlio British crown. Pontiae, the chief of the Ottawas, and tho recognized dictator of many affiliated tribes, as well as an able reconciler of hostile tribes, was a master of men. Then in the vigor of his life, he exhibited signally that marked characteristic of all the ablest, bravest, and most dangerous 21 \ I i ' HI ! i i H 322 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. of tlie native chiefs wlio have most resolutely resisted suc- cessive European encroachments on their domain : namely this, that while especially well informed and familiar with the resources and ai)pliances, and supposed advantages of a state of civilization, they have most passionately I'epelled and scorned it, and stubbornly avowed a preference for their own wild state of Nature, — the forest and lake and river, with tlieir free range, — and the simple nakedness of its indolence and activity. We must allow Pontiac, by anticipation, this mention here, because ho represented France, among the savages, as its avenger. When he first encountered small detach- ments of the English forces penetrating the lake and wil- derness highways to establish tliemselves in tlie strong- holds to be yielded up by the French, he seemed for a brief interval disposed to reconcile himself to the change of intruders, and to receive the new comers with a real or a feigned tolerance. But his stern purpose, if not be- fore conceived, was soon wrought into a bold and far- reaching design, with a plan which, as a whole, and in tlie disposal of its parts and details, exhibits his own great qualities. His plan was to engage all the Indian tribes in defying the hated intruders and keeping the heritage of their fathers inviolate for their posterity. So far as he could impart to or rouse in other native chieftaius his own sad prescience of their doom, or stir in them the fires of their own passions, he could engage them in that plan. He roamed amid the villages of many scattered tribes, and to others he sent messengers bearing the war-bolt and the battle-cry. He held councils, the solemn, medi- tative silence of Avhich he broke by imi)assioned appeals, sharpened with bitter taunts and darkened by sombre prophecies, in all the fervent picture-eloquence of the for- ests, to inflame the rage of his wild hearers and to turn them on tlie war-path. He found inflammable spirits. Jealousy and hate, and what tried to be scorn, had already CONSPIRACY OP PONTIAC. 323 norvcd many chieftains and their tribes to attempt what to them doubtless ap{)cared a possible enterprise, if they entered upon it pledged to triumph or to death. An Iro- quois sachem, at a conference in Philadelphia in 1761, referring to the traps already set by the French, about to be re-baited by the English, said : " We are penned up like hogs. There are forts all around us : we feel that death is coming upon us." The conspiracy, the whole aim of which from the first was futile anrl impossible, was nevertheless successful in many of its details, and in the sum and shape of the horrors attendant ujwn that success. Tlic siege and destruction of the lake and river forts, and then a ruthless rage of slaughter, havoc, and burning on the whole belt of frontier settlements, were the elements of that savage campaign against civilization. The forts at Detroit and ut :he present Pittsburg, on the forks of the Ohi'^, alone held out, and then only through sharp straits of peril and almost su{)eriiuman endurance, against the Indian foe, lurking everywhere with a lynx- eyed glare and a crimson ferocity. The pent-up garrisons in these two defended posts, starved and sleepless, listened as messengers, like those to Job, brought tidings of woe from all the rest. In the mean time the adventurous settlers who had scat- tered themselves on either side of the Alleghanics, accept- ing the rough conditions of frontier life and well matched in resource and forest skill with the natives, were sub- jected to the fury of the wily and sanguinary foe. Tlie horrors of those appalling scenes and events, in ghastly butcherings, tortures, and mutilations, with the sack and burning of the rude homesteads, and the Inuiting in the woods for the wretched, starving fugitives, have left records in our history of the most dismal and dreary tragedies. It was tlien and tlierc that — midway in our country's history — men, Avomon, and children came to know the meaning and character of Indian warfare. Then and 324 THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS. there were scorcliod into the hearts of agonized and mad- dened beings, tliemaclves only in a crude stage of civiliza- tion, though under Christian nurture, a hate and rage such as only fiends in their diabolic ravings might be sup- posed to fire in a human breast. We can well understand, as we read the records and heed the traditions of that wasted border, that for years afterwards white men (who alone survived in their families, orphaned or solitary by those dire woes) lived only for revenge, to prowl in the woods like wildcats, and deal the death-bloAv to every one of the red race — man, squaw, or pappoosc — that they could bring within range of the rifle or under the keen edge of the knife. A thousand families were broken up, with here and there survivors, trying, through a treacherous wilder- ness, to find their way back to the settlements. From one to two thousand of the whites were slain. Sir William Johnson, the Indian Commissioner for Indian affairs in New York, by the firm control which he had acquired over the tribes of the then Six Nations, succeeded by wise manage- ment in holding back all but a strong party of the Senecas from joining in the wide-spread conspiracy. Had those well-trained and ferocious savages joined in the work of desolation, doubtless English dominion here would have encountered a staggering peril. As it was, the exposed colonists were racked with dread uncertainty as to the con- stancy of these restrained fiends, who might at any moment prove treacherous, and who were held only by flatteries, gifts, and promises. When we note, as often we mny, the assertion that Britain has always l)een more fair and hu- mane than our Ciovernment in dealing with the savages, we cannot but pause upon certain facts on record in that fear- ful crisis which look quite in a contrary way. The British commander-in-chief, Sir Jeffrey Amherst,^ anticipated the 1 When, in 1776, General Amherst was raised to the peerafje, he chose as ono of the finpportcr.i "on the sinister a Canadian war Indian, h(dding in his exterior hand a staff argent, thereon a human scalp, proper." Collins's Peer- age, vol. viii. p. 170. MURDER OP PONTIAC. 825 project of some of the most desperate spirits in our own civil war, by favoring tlie dispersion among the Indians of blankets infected with the small-pox, and the sending for bloodhounds to be used in hunting the scalpers. The cam- paign of the bold and gallant Colonel Uouquet, with a strong body of provincials, put a period to these border massacres, and brought the consjiirators to sue for peace. Pontiac, raging under the failure of his first prospering enterprise, made one desperate effort to enlist the tribes farther West, on the Illinois. Orders had come from France, in 1703, to the French officers to surrender to the English the strongholds which they still held here. The French traders openly and covertly abetted the futile effort of Pontiac to cliange the scene of the same sti'uggle, by embarrassing and delaying the formal occupation of the territory by the English ; but there was only delay, with the mutterings and threatenings of the discomfited French and their Indian partisans. The triumph on the side of colonization and civilization for that line of frontier longi- tude was secure. The great chief, heartbroken and worsted in his schemes, was treacherously killed in the woods near Cahokia by a drunken Indian, bribed by an English trader, in 1769. CHAPTER VI. COLONIAL RELATIONS WITH THE INDIANS. There is matter of intensely exciting interest and ( i mo- mentous bearing upon the fortunes of tlie red man running through tlie whole colonial period of our history before wo had become a nation, with a centi'al power and a common responsibility for our acts. During this colonial period, — beginning with tlie first scattered and independent set- tlements, from Acadia and Canada, down along the sea- board to the Gulf, and ending with the war of the Revolu- tion, — each isolated group of colonists was of necessity left to its own methods and policy in intercourse and treatment of the savages. There was of course an ultimate referenco to the authority of the different sovereignties at home, represented here by their respective subjects. Instructions were from time to time received as to the way in which the natives should be dealt with. But the straits and emer- gencies of each feeble and exposed band of settlers had to decide for them their own attitude and course of conduct towards the aborigines. It was from the beginning a steady struggle between the forces of civilization, aided by intelli- gence and arbitrary power, and the natural rights and the impotence of barbarians. The result was an inevitable one; but the wrongs and outrages which secured it sadly stain the record of the white man's trium|)h. This chapter by its title covers the period and the events reaching from the first settlement of the territory of tho United States by Europeans down to the Revolutionary THE COLONISTS AT THEIR OWN CHARGES. 327 War, wliicli left us an independent people. It is to bo limited in tlic nuiin to the relations established by the col- onists themselves with the natives, as it will be eunvenicnt to deal with the relations of the mother country, as a government with the same people and over the snme held, in a se|)arate chapter. A dividiui^-line might be drawn — at hrst sharp and distinct, afterwards ])ecominji^ blurred — between the periods and the circumstances within which the En crty. But the English exche(pier was not drawn upon. Such was the state of things in the earlier colonial times. In the later period, covering the whole century previous to the war of the Revolution, Great Britain came in as a party, with a stake of her own at hazard, amid steadily increasing risks, denr.uiding mightier efforts and heavier charges, till at the settlomsut the cost proved to be enor- mous. This of course was during the struggle between France and England for the dominion of this continent, the colonies coming in for attention either as allies or as need- ing protection. Whenever mutterings of Avar or open liostilities manifested themselves abroad between the two nations, their colonists on this side of the water, willingly or unwillingly, were compelled to imitate the d.)ings of their respective principals. As we have said, the cost to En2;land of cxtinffuishiim; French dominion here was enor- mous. But a heavier penalty and sacrifice than tluit was to be visited upon her as a direct consequence, — even this of the loss of her colonies. At the close of the French and Indian War her prime minister called together the resident agents of the colonies then in London, laid the bill before them, with the amount of the debt incurred " for their defence," and suggested that they should contribute to her revenue l)y a tax, for the relief of the suffm'ing and protecting mother. The loyalists, in om- days of rebellion, thought it was but fair that we should be thus taxed. The patriot party raised a question whether England came in upon a strife, which the colonies had long maintained at their own charges, for the motherly purpose of j)rotect- ing them, or for securing aggrandizement in land and * Records of the Commissioucra of the United Colonies, iii. 508. I) 11 ' PERMANENT COLONISTS. 829 dominion for herself. At anv rate the cok)ni,«i(s tlioujiiit they had borne their full share of the expense in life and treasure. We turn now to the earlier colonial relations witli the savages. Tiiere are some general statements applicable to all the original settlements made by Europeans on our present domain ; excepting always those invading raids of the Spaniards, which can hardly be classed under the designa- tion of settlements. In the first place, it may be said with equal truth alike of the French, the Dutch, the English, and the Swedish ad- venturers wlui came hither with a view to the permanent occu[)ancy of American soil, — for tillage, trallic, and com- merce, — that they had in mind na purpose of concpiest, or of taking possession by violence, through war with the sav- ages, or by driving them clear of the territory. Not a hint or Intimation, I think, can be found in any of the primary sources of our earliest colonial history that the colonists in cither settlement felt before their coming that they would have to fight for a foothold, or even contemplated the neces- sity of so doing. Of course they were wliolly ignorant of the numbers and the strength of the native tribes. But they seem to have taken for granted the sulTiciency of free wild space for themselves and the natives to live in amity. Doubtless, too, they felt sure that the barbarians would welcome them as bringing with them the blessings of civ- ilization, the tools and imijlcmeuts, the food, the seed, the clothing, the habits, the redeemed humanity, which the savages would be so ready to accept with an overflowing gratitude as a substitute for their rude resources and their benighted, bewildered, and dismal way of life. But in the last resort, knowing themselves to be of a nojlcr stock than the red men, privileged too with a higher intelligence, and above all armed with deadly weapons in comparison with which the bows and the stone hatciiets of the Indians were li 830 COLONIAL nPXATIONS WITH THE INDIANS. Ud toys, it was eiioiitfh for tho vvliito man to foci that he was ublii to hold his ground. Again, tho early colonial enterprises were all feeble, and with scarce an exception attended with sharp and almost extinguishing di:iaster, in which, if the Indians ap[)ear at all, it is simply to give relief. Often did they jjcrform these acts of mercy to wretched white men in their extremities. As has been said before, these kindly acts of the savages were in every case ill requited. The Spanish invaders of the south of the continent and the first French voyagers at the north, after partaking of a gentle wilderness hos- pitality, both kidnapped some of the Indians and carried them across the ocean, leaving their intimidated relatives to wonder over their fate. Neither had our English seamen to our own coasts failed to commit tho same treacherous acts. Captain Weymouth himself pnlAidy told the story in London of his kidnap- ping five Indians at Pema(iuid, in 1005, though he said that he treated them well, and that his object was to promote civilization and trade. Again, in 1014, Captain Thomas Hunt, without the knowledge of Captain John Smith un- der whose orders he was, kidnapped twenty-seven Indians, in or near Plymouth harbor, who were sold in Spain for slaves. By the humanity of Si)anish friars some of these were redeeuKMl and sent back. Some of the tril)e to whicli these belonged — the Nausits — were those who had the first encounter with the Plymouth Pilgrims on their landing. Tho Pilgrims in their first straits of hunger, while ex[)lor- ing for a permanent place of settlement, helped themselves to some of the buried corn-heaps of tho natives. The jus- tifying excuse for the act was necessity, and a sort of res- titution was afterwards made to the owners. First impressions made and received when strangers come into intercourse often decide the future relations be- tween the parties. If we could learn how the natives were affected by their first knowledge of the whites, we should 11 FIRST SALES OP LAND. 831 probably find that they regarded the English as a some- what unscrupulous people. Furthi'i', wo must note that it soon came to be under- stood tiiat tiie relations of FiUropeans us they reached here, towards the native races, would be decided in each case by the intent ard purpose ot each i)arty of the stranj^ers as they appeared, whether that i)urpose involved transient traflic, as in the fisheries and the fur-trude, or permanent occupancy of the soil, witii extendini^ farms and towns. The Dutch and the Frencli mi^-ht, for their purposes, have had peaceful relations with the savages, to their mutual benefit. The English cohjuists, radiating from their orig- inal landings, and steadily extending into the interior, found, for obvious reasons, that their relations with the natives nnist bo hostile. Why ? Simply because tho tem- per and habits, the prejudices and purposes of English yeomen made it utterly impossible for them to have tho savages as co-residents on the soil, or even as proximato neighljors. In fifty years, more than as many English towns had been i)lanted on our shores and in the nearest border of the wilderness, in valleys, on river bottoms and mill streams. In the skirting forests the savages still har- bored, and the primary antagonisms of the two modes of life at ofice presented themselves with sharp and practical issues. When King Phili|) found that the value of tho land which he had sold to the whites was so enhanced by their use of it, ho regretted that he had parted with it. Con- spicuously intelligent as he was for a savage, and proudly independent in spirit, like the other great conspiring chief- tains with whom wo have come into confiict, he stoutly withstood civilization and what was otYered to him as Christianity. He forbade all mission work, all attempts to convert his people. He preferred by inclination and con- viction the wild state as best and fittest for them. Such views of Christianity as he had formed from contact with its white disciples and the converts they had made from 332 COLONIAL RELATIONS WITH THE INDIANS. the red men were unfavorable, and he repelled it. He complained that his own people were withdrawn from alle- giance and tribute to him, and that the white man's laws and court processes were forced upon him. The white man's fencinjis and fields prevented free travel, while tlic fencings did not prevent the white man's cattle breaking through them and trampling the Indians' corn. Though the whites seem to have taken for granted that a nomadic roving or a transient occu|)ancy over wild territory gave no valid title to it to barbarians, yet the Indians evidently thought it theirs, at least as much as it was the white man's. So it was all over the continent. When the French colonist Riljault, entering the St. John River in Florida, in \i)G2, ([uietly set up by night a stone pillar bearing the arms of France, and took possession for his king, the sav- ages, seeing it the next morning, gazed upon it with stolid bewilderment, regarding it as an altar of worship, not as a royal prerogative, not realizing that theii- territory had j)assed from their possession. When the I'opham colony, in 1G07, took their position for a fort on the Sagadahoc, the natives objected to the effrontery of the act, as no ])er- mission had been asked and no compensation offered. In l(!t]l a Dutchman, in Delaware, had set u]> a post with the arms of the Dutch. An Indian pulled it down. His chief liad him killed to appease the Dutchman. This stirred up the Indians, and they "massacred" every one in the Dutch fort. When Lord Baltimore was making his first settle- ment on (he I'otomiK", he askcMJ tlie chief if he might plant himself there. Tlu^ cautious savage replied '■ that he would not bid him go, neither would he bid him stay; ho mu.st use his own discretion." When the four New England colonies confederated them- selves in 1()4.'{, the preamble to their covenant assinned o very lordly tone towards the natives, thus : — " Wlicrctis wo livo cncoinpasaoil with people of snveml nations and strunyo languages, which hereafter may prove itijurioua to ua or THE WAR OP RACE. 333 our posterity ; and forasmuch as tho natives liavo formerly com- mitted sundry insolences and outrages upon several IMantations of tho English, and have of lato combined themselves against us, etc." It is to be romemberod tliat our id)ori*iinos wore tlie first of the class of liiin»an beini^s called "heathens" which our Euirlish ancestt)rs had ever known >tr seen. The theory about them was that they were a wrecked and doomed por- tion of tho race of Adam, under a curse, — the spoil of the Devil for eternity. The human form, with a mere frajrnient of the intellectual and moral endowment of our race, could Bcoure at best only pity for such creatures. It was amoni? the routrh frontiersmen of the West that the sayin.ir orij^j- uated, that the Indian has no mor(! soul than a bult'alo. Our ancestors allowed him a soul, thouirh mider the circum- stances it was a que.stional)le endowment. It may fairly l)o inferred from the estimate our fathers made of the natives, that they believed that existence had lu) intrinsic value for an Indian. Takinj^ into view also the fact that the wlnde history of hunuinity on this jrlobe jrives us but a succc^ssion of wars of races, the stronj^ aying and subduing wild lands. They IooUcmI for an easier and a more exciting thriit. The leadei-s, olTicials, and functi()nari(!s of their invading colunuis did indeed seek to become proprietors of islands and of imnu'use strcitches of territory for mining or cultivation, or for their products. Hut while the fee of these con(|uests might vest in Spanisii nobles, hidalgoes, or ecclesiastics, the work upon them was to be done by the imported Afi-ican slaves, and l)y the natives reduced to the same condition. Ami it was the (,'atholic monarch, not tlie natives, who transferred the title to these fair islands, fields, forests, and mines, and issued patents for their possession and government. Were it not for statutes of linutatiojis, if the sense of natural justice and the benevolent impulse for the righting of all wrongs should ever reach a par- o.xysm over the hearts of civilized man, many descendants PURCHASE OP INDIAN TITLES. 335 of the despoiled would furnish business for a high court of claims. A selection from our local annals of a few of the numer- ous cases recorded of the sale of parcels of land or of stretches of territory, by the Indians to the whites, may hel|) us to form some idea of the nature of the transaction and of the conditions involved in it. It is to be observed that the transaction was always a loose oiie, whatever at- tempt may in any instance have been made to mai quit-chiim as to any reserved rights whicli might be implieil, anil which in many cases, as it will apjK'ar, were afterwards asserted. We lind frequent positive and even boastful assertions in our early New England records, — like that rei)eated by In- crease Mather, — that till J'hilip's war, in 1G75, the English did not occupy a foot of land without fair pnr(;hase. This assertion, if true in the spirit of it as indicating the in- tent and will of the colonists, is subject to so many abating and (pialifying conditions as greatly to nMluce (he seeming e(|uity of tlic transactions to which it refers. There were honest attem[)ts from the first, on (ho part of the IMymouth and Massachusetts authorities, to prevent the trespass of white men on land that had not been pur- chased from (he Indians. Intruders, in some cases, on complaint being made, were compelled to vaca(e. Laws were passed to prevent individual bargains. .*^o fsir as (he English were eoneei'ne(l, Jiimes 1!., l»y pi-oclamation, made the right of purchasing territory from tlu; Indians exclu- 8iv(!ly a government prerogative. The colonies and States have maintained the same prerogadve ; but (he restriction has been li(tle regarded. In some cases the Indians invited whi(e men to 8e(tle and plant among them ; but the privi- 336 COLONIAL RELATIONS WITH THE INDIANS. I fl lege granted was considered revocable by the Indians when- ever they were tired of their company. Plymouth court made an enactment that certain of the best necks of land in their hounds, — liivc Mount Hope, Pocasset, etc., — as being most suitable and conveni(>nt for the Indians, should not be i)urchas{'d from them. In Increase Mather's His- tory of Phili|)'s Wnr, he quotes the well-known letter ad- dressed to him by Josiah Winslow, of Plymouth, in which the writer says that the court strictly reserved the lirst- mentioned sites to the Indians to prevent their j)arting with them, which otherwise they would have done. It is in this letter that Winslow lakes the positive assertion, that " be- fore these present troubles liroke out the English did not possess one foot of laud in this colony but what was fairly obtained by honest purchase of the Indian j)ropi'i(!tors." Yet Dr. Mather begins his History with this sentence: "That the heathen people amongst whom we live, and whose land the Lord (Jod of our fathers hath given to us for a rightfid possession," etc. Dr. Mather furnishes evi- dences — of which there are so numy more — of that relent- less and vindictive, and we nuiy say savage, .'Spirit which burned in the hearts of nnigistrates, ministers, and people as the conse(pience of what they had suffered in their very first wars from the exasjjerated savages. This was inva- riably the effect on the feelings of whites who had had experience of Indian warfare. Not one throb of pity or sympathy for the natives softens the bitterness poured out upon th(>m by the Mathers. More raneitrous even are the terms used of the Indians by the Rev. WMliam Hubbard of Ipswich, whom the (Jourt made the historian of New England. lit; cal's them "treacherous villains," 'Mhe dross of maidviud," " the dregs and lees of the earth," " faithless and ungrateful monsters," " the caitiff i'hilip," etc. Mather said, " The Lord in judgment had been riding among us on a red horse." Between holding lands by fair purchiise from the In- PURCHASES OF INDIAN LANDS. 887 dians and receiving them as " a rightful possession from tlie Lord (Jod," there is certainly a confusion of title. In IGIO Captain West, of the Virginia Colony, purchased of "King" Powhatan the region around the present city of Richmond — whatever that might include — for a small (piantity of copper. In tG2G Governor Minuit bought the Island of Manhat- tan (New York) for sixty guilders (twenty-four dollars). In lGo4 the Maryland Indians agreed that Lord JJalti- more's Company, for the consideration of some cloth, tools, and trinkets, should share their town till the harvest ; and then, .adiiig and championship in our local histories. No Indian historian has left us the relation of its coiidiict and causes, from his point of view. But though Uw whites had the whole field for scdf-justifi ca- tion at the time, and find their side well argued in most of our sober and elaborate histories from their day to our own, there arc not wanting vigorous, fair-miiuled, and effective pleaders who have told the story from the Indian point of KINO Philip's war. 339 view, in a way to vindicate Philip and his followers as alto- gether justifiable in their course of resistance to the white man's wrongs and outrages. Tliese Indian advocates have cast upon our ancestral magistrates and soldiers the burden of what to us seems inhuman, and, of course, unchristian. In the abundance and variety of the printed pages relat- ing to the right and the wrong in Philip's war, it would hardly be worth our while to attempt another discussion of It. it is very easy to make and strengthen a plea on either side, for each had a cause and found justification for stand- ing for it, even to the most dire extremities. It is enough to say that our sympathy, at least, goes with the barbarous victims of their own blind and dauntless elTort to resist what wc call their destiny ; and that the weight of con- demnation must come on the English for suspicions and unvvis(! measures and actual wronus, in tla; early stages of the strife. They were the intruders; they were arn»gant and overbearing; they were the stronger party, and, in pro- fession at least, held themselves more intelligently bouiui to justice, mercy, and righteousness. The lilame, I say, is with thon in the opening of the strife. I>ut as it advanced, and in their dread consternation as it strengthened in ex- tent and horror and success; as their frontiers were deso- lated, and fire, massacre, and torture came nearer and nearer to their centre, — the yell, the tomahawk, the scalping- knife, and the torch working up the nightmare of every man, woman, and child i i their scattered settlements, — wo can no longer interpose our scruples as to acts or appre- hensions of the exasperated and almost desperate colonists. Probably we cannot overstrain the palliation we are dis- posed to find for the whites, alike in their oi)inion of the natural (iendisiiiu'ss of the Indian character and their hor- ror of Indian warfare, after their first dire experience of both. White men all over this warring globe have gene- rally suspended hostilities in the dark hours of niglit, if only that they might distinguish between friend and foe ; 840 COLONIAL RELATIONS WITH THE INDIANS. m but the (laikness was tlio time for the Indian's revelry in horrors. The Indian, in his warfare with the Enj^lish, availed himself of all those resonrces of his own whieh compensated his lack of the white man's means. The pa- tience with which the savage would lie in the covert of the thicket, perhaps for one or several days, to watch the hus- bandman who might pass to his field or clearing, made the whole space around a settlement, and long roaches between the settlements, haunted as with im[)S of mischief. The savages, soon learning of the Sunday habits of the English in their rude temples, would steal upon the cabins, where only infants and the infirm were left, and ply the tomahawk, the scalping-knife, and the torch. They dashed the infants against rock or tree before the eyes of their mothers ; they maimed and slaughtered the cattle ; they bore tlieir prison- ers off for unnamed tortures. But it was their onset by night, or before the gray of morning, on an unsuspecting group of sleepers in the rude dwellings on the edge of the wilderness, with their yells and whoops, that heaped the dreads of their warfare. This experience, with all the variations of ferocity, malignity, and atrocity, was espe- cially harrowing for those who shared the realities of Philip's dark conspiracy, and it struck deeply and burned sharply into their hearts and minds their hate of the Indian as an enemy. I have selected King Philip's war in 1G75, rather than the earlier Pequot war in 1G3G, as affording the specimen case for presenting all the elements which enter into a his- torical examination and discussion of the causes and occa- sion and conduct of a bitter strife between the English colo- nists and those upon whose lands and rights they were tres- passing. Whatever was the territorial tenure of the natives here, they were justified in maintaining it, certainly against those who with no claim at all were evidently bent upon dispossessing them. The most significant and distinguish- ing quality in that war was, that the readiness with which THE PEQUOT WAR. 341 the master mind of the great Indian chieftain succeeded in engaging in his cons[)iraoy so comprehensive a body of the natives — many of them not of his own tribe — showed how widespread was tlie hatred of the Englisli, and how easily the Indians coukl be banded against them. Another excep- tional incident in tliat war was that the whites had no In- dian allies, saving only a few individual informers, spies, and guides who were faithless to their own race. Some of the more melancholy complications and consecpiences of King Philip's war, as thwarting the best intcntioned schemes formed by the most humane of the Massachusetts people for the civilization and security of the natives, will present themselves in our dealing with another theme. The Pc(iuot war of 1G3G, which was the first in the series of bloody and well-nigh exterminating campaigns of the New Englanders against the natives, involved some peculiar elements, which at least in their own judgment re- lieved the former of all blame for what they did, and even gave them the honorable merit of avengers of wrong. The I'equots — inhabiting the finest spaces in Connecticut, ex- tending to the Hudson River — were a fierce and numerous tribe, who had driven off the former occupants of the terri- tory in a series of conflicts, and so held by recent conquest. The English had consented to their own f»ro(Ters of amity. A feud existed between them and their neighbors thcNarra- gansetts in Rhode Island, who instigated the whites, upon provocations which they soon received, to accept them as allies against the Pequots. Even Roger Williams became i\\G adviser and elficient helper of the magistrates and sol- diers of the other colonies in the exterminating campaign which was soon opened against them. Tlie Peiiuots had committed a succession of murders, on the land and river and bay, of individuals and small parties of the whites who had first ventured for trade or settlement upon their terri- tories. They had accomj)auied these deeds with mutilations of the bodies of their victims, and with defiances and taunts : 842 COLONIAL RELATIONS WITH THE INDIANS. irfe I r , of tho English. Most sunmiary was the vengeance wliicli they had thus provoked. No feature of savage warfai-(5 was lacking in the night assault, the hurnings, the impal- ings, the promiscuous slaughter, the pursuit into swamps, by which the whites with red allies extinguished that fierce tribe, reserving only a ronuumt to be sold for slaves. A modern historian must be excused from relating, as ho could not essay to relieve, the sadness and shame of tho truthful record '>f the conduct of the English in that dark episode, close '''h their iJcrfidy in sacrificing the noble Miantonomo, We may iiucr somewhat of the opinion held beforehand by the Plymouth Pilgrims of the sort of human beings they were to lind here, from what the excellent (lovernor Bradford tells us was in the minds of his associates in Holland when they were hesitating in their purpose to cross the ocean as exiles. He writes: "The place they had thoughts on was some of those; vast and unpeopled countries of America which arc fruitfid and lit for habi- tation, being devoid of all civil inhabitants, where there are only salvage and brutish men, which range up and down little otherwise than the wild beasts of the same." This was written many years after Bradford had been living here among tho Indians, and had had full knowledge of them.' Cotton Mather 2 writes: "These parts were then covered with nations of barbarous Indians and infidels, in whom the Prince of tlu; j)0wer of the air did work as a spirit ; nor could it be expected that nations of wretches, whose whole religion was the most explicit sort of Devil-worshi]), should not be acted by the Devil to engage in some early and bloody action for the extinction of a plantation so con- trary to his interests as that of New England was." lie calls Satan "the old landlord" of the country. It cer- tainly must have seemed to the Indians that the landlord 1 Bradford's History of Plymouth. " Magimlia, vii. C. UJl,,,.l Ju i mJi^n^iim-mi-jt- SALE OF ARMS TO INDIANS. 843 had not improved upon his tenantry by substituting white for red men. A journal written in the Dutch province, at Albany, New York, soon after 1(540, traces the be,<.finninstructive massacres and onsets by the Indians are marked in the early colonial history of Virgiiiia. The Hist settlers in their almost abortive efforts, renewed in spite of overwhelming disasters and failures, to obtain a foothtdd on the soil, had been frcijuently, we may say continuously, indebted to the generosity of the natives in rescuing them from starvation. In ungrateful return they insulted and spoiled their benefactors. Stirred to self- defence and revenge by a resolute chieftain, — successor and brother to the so-called "Emperor" Powhatan, who hated the encroaching whites, — a secret conspiracy was organized among them, long and carefully planned, without knowledge or suspicion by the settlers. On the day agreed npon, in concert, the scattered dwellings of the colonists were set npon, — March 22, 1022. Laborers and loiterers and whole families were taken in the i)anic of surprise, and in one and the same hour three hundred and lifty whites — men, women, and children — were slaughtered. The miserable remnant took refuge within their rude and rotting fort at Jamestown, and the wonder is that the savages did not follow up their furious onset by starv- ing and extirpating that renmant. Nor did the w.iitcs learn wisdom, caution, or humanity from this visitation of vengeance from those whom they so outraged and op- pressed. WAB8 IN VIUOINIA. 845 When tlio news of this massacre reached London, and It was broii^fht there before the Council of Virginia, the word sent back to the dismayed wretches at Jamestown was this: "We must a(lvis(! you to root out from Ijeing any h)ng»M' a peoph; so cursed, a nation ungrateful to all benefits and uncapable of all goodness," — the "pcoidc" and "nation" lus described being the Indian, not the English. And again : " Take a sharp revenge upon the bloody miscreants, even to the measure that they intended against us, — the rooting them out for being longer a peojjle on the face of the earth." Another concerted outburst of the .savages in Virginia took i)lace in 1044, when nearly as many of the whites as in the previous conspiracy were numbered as victims. Still a third similar combination of the hounded and abused na- tives, in IGfjC, renewed the elTorts, at any cost to them- selves, to visit the utmost vengeance upon their torment- ors. Though the whites in this case had Indian allies, the result rather aggravated their disaster's. Were it worth the careful and thorough research which would bo required for a full examination of all our mate- rials of local and general history, to pursue the details of those various conflicts between the whites and the In- dians as they were first enacted by the earlier bodies of the colonists on the regions nearest to the sealioard, it is believed that full verification would be made of the asser- tion, that, notwithstanding the white man's superiority in weapons and skill, the victims on his own side in all hos- tilities far outnumbered those of the red men. That, save in the Quaker proprietary province of Pennsylvania, there should not have been a single exception, near the close of the century so filled with savage warfare, to the universal enactment of these tragic massacres between the two races, might offer another subject for thorough in- vestigation by an interested inquirer. Were there forces working through natural antipathies, through irrecoucil- ■'l 1 f b ( 340 COLONIAL UELATIONS WITH TIIK INUIANS. able race instincts, and throiijjfh tlic conijmlsion of circum- staMccH, wljicli nuulo this .strujri^lo imivitiiltlt! ? If so, and if this view of Ihi; facts can bo j»hilos()]ihicalIy sustained, not in vin(li(uition of wrong, but in cxphuuition of oxpe- ricnco, then a h'sson so signally assured as true in the past nuist furnish instruction and guidance for the future. Hut if all this direful rage and havoc of human jjassion, this goading jan'poso of nuistcry by tiie stnjng and privi- lcgc(l over the weak and incompetent, were merely a huge struggle of might against riglit, it is simph; ti'illing to re- fer it to any principle rooted in the nature of thiugs. Race I)rejudices have had rang*; and opportunity sullicient to show their strength. Perhaps the world i.s wi.sc and hu- mane enough now to impiire wliether they are just and right, whether tliey arc to bo yielded to or discredited. During our whole colonial and provincial jieriod it was tlie hard fate of the Indians, as wt; havt; seen, to bear the brunt of every (piarrel between tla; rival Kiiropean colonists in their jealousies and struggles i"or domin- ion and the profits ot the fur-trade. No sooner had one of the rivals conciliated or estalilislied friendly relations with one or more of the tril)cs, than the rej)resentatives of the f)ther rival would seek to thwart any advantage of their opponents l)y openly or covertly farming alliances with other triiies. Tribes which might otherwise have lived in a state; of suspende(l animosities with each other were thus driven to take the war-pat li. So, too, it has \\i\]}- pened that the wlude or a portion of a tribe, oi- of aliii'd trilx's, in the course' of a century was found in tiie pay and service of the Krench against the Kiig'ish ; of the Knglish ag.'iinst the Krench ; of the Spaniards against the French, and of the Krench against the Spaniards; and then of the iirmies of (Ireat Hritiiin and our own provincial fori'cs against the French, follow(Ml in a few ycNirs by their enlist- ment by (Ireat Ibitain to aid her in crushing the rebellion of her own colon i(!s. w to mutual |)roteetion and defence a^i^ainst the savaires. Tli<'y were to he friends and allies in mili- tary (tperations, and to reco-jni/.c! their enemies as eoiniuon. 'J'liou;ili this confeileralion had not l)een funned at the time of the IVtiuot war, as tin; component parties to it were nofr all then In heinj?, there was an anticipation of its ohje or less of comliinetl hostility a;rainst the natives, hut Kn^^land «!ame into the strife with fleets and armii's. The rivalry hetween the MuLrlish and the Krench colo- nists, which for nearly a century ami a half had heen Iy truce and diplomacy, — was substantially iirouirht to a decision Ity what W(! eall rofracted for seven years, the period closinj^ a little more thaji a decade before the openiufj; of our Revolu- tionary War. ]>y the Peace of I'aris, in 17ti;}, France; cculed to (Jreat IJritain all her territory here lyin;^ east of the Mississippi ; retainin;; Louisiana, as then so declined, wliidi, Ijowever, by a secret tr(>aty she ceded at th(; time to Spain, to be retrained afterwarils by Franc<', and then sold to our Government. While France was still maintainin^i; her hold upon Canada and the Ohio Valley, she had won to her Hide the Western Indian trilu-s, and had even to some de- gree conciliated her old-time relent lesH foes, the InxjUuis ol New York. IJut from the lirst tokens of the cripplinjr and failiuir of the sway of France, her Indian allies be^iim to manifest their inconstancy and licklencss ami their mer- (tenary Hpirit by trimminj; for Hui^lish frien(lshi|»s. 'I'he Kn^dish had already encroached upon the fur-trade; and thou^di their (d struvor, ENr.LISn ACCESSION TO THE TERRITORY. 349 with their territory, by oiio foreij^u power to anotlicr, both beinj? alike intruders ajid interk)j)ers. Kiij^himl did indeed, after the treaty, by prochuuation, reserve tlie Ohio Valley and the ncii^hborinj^ region for the Indians, and forbade the whites to intrude for settleuicut upon it. IJnt the In- dians had nt)t at the time the kncjwledj^o of this royal pro- vision for them : and in fact it was made too late, for the niisehicf whieh it was intended to avert liad been already done. That country had l)een penetrated l.y Kn;ilish traders, who coursed over portions of it with their trains of puek- horses. More than this: darinj^ and enttn-prisinj^ men, with or without their families, had cleared and occupied many settlements or is)lati'(l homes scattered over its at- tractive spaces. Wofully did they have to meet, in addition to the toils and ItulTctinirs of their i)ioneer lite, the ven- geance of their exaspenitetl savaufc foes. Tlu! first move of the reirulars of the ('rown with pro- vincial troops was to take pos.session of the forts and stronirholds ceded with the French dominion, to chiinijfo their trarrisons. and to sul»stitute the Hrilish flag for that of France. These strongholds were sadly battered and decayed. The French liad cajolcs the let- ters, journals, and narratives relalinir io the Fiench and Indian wars aiul to our own inmu'diately sulisei|urnt con- liicts under (Ireut Urituin with the infuiiated savages, wo II 350 COLONIAL RELATIONS WITH TUB INDIANS. li U\ firo profoundly impressed by the prowess, lierolsm, outlay of arduous clVort aud exhaustive toil by the Euj^lish and provincial {(U'ces. Their work was in f^loomy and almost iniponc.tnililt! forests, often jtathless and trctacherous, beset by ambushed foes, whose stealthy tread was as noiseless as their (ieudish shrieks and yijllings were appallluj^, when they broke from the woods with tomahaw^i and scalping- knife upou their wretehed victims. The policy of all the Kiu'opcau colonists — whether their main object was the occupation of interior territory in their rivalry for jjosses- sion, or to secun; a centre of trade with the Indians — was to push forward armed parties, with supplies, to seize stror tements for their jrarrisons miiiht Ix; Itronjrht to them. Often wlu^n there were anv outlyini? and scattered settlentents near these defended posts, the dismiiyed and perilled front i(!r families, or fuiritives escapinir from a nuissacre, would flee to them fnr a refuL^e. When the savatres in their niL'e and nipacity were Inrkinir arxposures and ventures and endurings. It seems heartless to jtlay with such stern cxperien(!es as if fancy or rhythm could either soften or heighten them. in keeping up conunuuication between these forest gar- risons with each other and with their Itase, it was always? necessary — and the emergency was greatest when the pei'il or disaster WMS nmst (lireatiMiinir and dire — to send expresses Ihroiiuh the haunted wilderness. Whenever (he straits or tin; l)allled wits or the deliberate jialgmcnt of the odiccr in command decided that u scout or messenger 352 COLONIAL RELATIONS WITH THE INDIANS. \i * •l ' m i^u' HlI,. 1 1 must bo sent forth on that stern orrand, ho had a right to name his man. He ld th(! lumbering wagons, with their cannon and Hour-bags and meat-barrels. Cattle, too, were tt. bi! moved over those pastureless highways. When the English, after the cession of Canada, went with their scant forces and the luilp of provincials and occasionally some friendly Indian allies to take possession of the; faither btrts on I lie lakes, the enterprise was thick with the perils of sea and shore. On the route from the scalioard, whence artillery, nnmi- SIEOES IN THE WILDERNESS. 353 tions, ami nil heavy supplies were to bo rocoivcd, lay the car- ryiii^-pluc(! iirouiui (lie Fulls of Niaj^ura, — Ihc; UKJst rough and (JangerouH of all portages, iii which was the trap well called "the Devil's Hole." While all supplies had to bo carried in hand or on packs over this interval of preci- pices and maddened waters, the batteaux and the armed vessels lor the lakes had to be constructed above it to receive the freight. It is to this harrowing period of our colonial warfaro with the savages, after the eon(piest of Canada and before our Revolutioiuiry struggle, that Mr. I'arkman devotes his marvellously skilful pen, in his "Conspiracy of I'ontiac." Though the theme of this work, wrought with such graphic I)ower in its altsorbing interest, properly closes the history of New France, in his sericsOf volumes it was the fust to be given to the public ; and the author has since, in succes- sive publicati(His, been dealing with the periods and inci- dents preceding it. It was this, his first historical pui)lica- tion, that engaged for the author the highest appreciation of h:^ readers, as one who had been long looked and waited f /• - ""Miietent, gifte(|. and inclined to giv(> to the most cha. . ri. -;e and thi'illing themes and scenes of our his- tory a treatment worthy of tlu'ir grand mat(!rials and actors. The wilderness opens its depths, its grandein*, its solitudes, and all its phenomena of scenery and adventure to his eyo and thought, to his rare genius of des(!ription and inter- pretati(»n. His tlelineation of the "Indian Summer" at Detntit is more a painting than a piece of writing. Ills por- trait ui'e of the savages on the wai'-patli — in his (iereeness and rage, in his weapons of hand and passion, in his weak as well as his strung (pialities, in his inconstancy as in his resolve — is the most faithfid that has ever been drawn in all literature. His relation of sieges, ambushes, stratagems, and fights, his details of the vigils of the imperilled in gar- risons and in lonely (cabins, and of the desolations and wooh of victims amid scenes of horror, are relieved of actual tor- 28 854 II COLONIAL RELATIONS WITH THE INDIANS. mr ' 1 i - - f turo for iho reader only by tlio arrest of the pen when to be told inon* woidd Ix; uiicnduriil)le. How far the Indiiiii tribes witli whieli in our turn wo Ijave to d(>al ar(^ to ))e rejjarded in blood and lineage, in descent or alliliation, as represent alives of those with whom the Eiiropeiin colonists came into these ]»rotraeted confiictH, may be an intricate (piestion for examination. There has been a scries of such conllicts on successive strips or re- gions of tlu! (!ontinent, and correspondini; ehanj^cs in the names of the tribes enconnt(Mvd and van(|nished. The In- dians with whom the first colonists came into collision miiy all be supposed to have seen the sidt water, as livinij; near the seaboard where they met the invaders. Their names ha.vc dropped from 8p(;ech and their tribes are regarded as i3xtinct, whether because they have wholly perished, or be- cause Avhat remiiiints of them remain in dc^scent have been adopted or mcrjicd in other tribes. At all events wo licar nothiufr nowadays of l'e(piots, Mohicans, Narraj^ansetts, Paiuiinkeys. In the second century of the colonies such familiar names as the llurons, the Mohawks, the I)(!la- wares, the Shawanoes, and the Miamis, with the Ottawas and the Ojibways, engross our attention. Now with each new year of Western enterprise some of the old names of tribes drop out of use, and new ones appear in OovernuKUit records and in the jiapers, as the Arapahoes, the ('oman- ches, the Apaches, the Snaki^s, the; IJlackiVet. Whether these triltes last made known to us are alliliated with those of our earliest acipiaintance, or liave b(!en disvlosed to us as reserved and original sections of the same old race of red men, independent in lineage and position, certain it is that they arc the same sort of men in all tluiir marked characteristics, — in nature, hal)its, traits, ways of life, method of warfare, jealousy an;oods. In the mean time the characteristics, the liabits, the feelings and sentiments of the whiti; race have been modified even as regards the attitude assumed to- wards the Indians. No body of the whites now, holding relatively the same social and moral position as the stock of our first colonists, would maintain that the Indians are to be e.xterminated or denied the rights of humanity because they are heathens or because they are savages. Their (^laim to territory and to g(Mierous treatmcnit is more frankly and emphatically recognized to-day than ever before ; and this because of the white man's advance in hinnanity. It is noticeable that the spirit of humane philanthropy, of leniency and sympathy as regards the Indians and their treatment, has been and is to-day exceedingly variable, not so much among classes of our p(M)ple as in the pla(!(\s where they hap|)en to live. The farther any conununity is in space, or in the dates of its history, from actual (ixperienco of Indian conflicts, the more kindly will the people in it be towards the savages in general; commiserating them, and advising their patient and forb(>aring treatment. Scarce one single loud breathing of pity or sympathy would have been indulged in our own neighborhood two hundred or more than one hundred yeais ago. Those whose eyes had beheld, or whose household memories and fresh traditions kept alive, the si^enes of devastation, burning, and but hery in the New Kngland settlements in King I'hilip's war would with scarce an exception have avowed, that absolute ex- tinction, without mercy in the method, was the necessary and the rightful doom of the savagii. Much the same, scarcely softened, would have been the judgment of our I « n I 366 COLONIAL IlKLATIONS WITH THE INDIANS. Hol(li(;r.s und their fiuiulics, and of coinmuiiitios living but little inon; than a Huorc of niilos from Boston, when tlio Indians jifoadcd and \vi\ on by tlioir Jesuit piiests and the Freneh from Canada brouj^ht devastation and masHuero on HO many of our frontier seittlemcnts. The wounds of those (hiys of ujjfony and torture arc liealed. The dismay and exasperation, the ra}^(^ and d — some think ludicrously, otIuM's think contemp- tibly — imdcr the strain and agony of that i»iltcr (Crisis for hiunanity. In its earlier stages that frontier havoc by the infuriatecl league of savages hardly disturbed tho tranquillity of the thrifty Quakers in Philadelphia. It was charged that their pity and sympathy for the Indians exceeded their nvirard for the scattered settlers on their frontiers, principally Scotch-Irish I'resl)yt(M'ians, who had all become victims or fugitives. The Friends, too, had u cuntroUiug inllucncu in their provincial Assembly. When, I' THE QIJAKKKS IN THE WAIl. 867 after iinjilorin^ ti[>f)(>iilH and inipassionccl romonHtraiiccB, ihv.y wiT(! iiuluced to vote a Hum of nioiu!y uh a HUpply for the (K'fc'iu'e of the province, they |iru(lcnily culled it a gift for the Hcrvic(! of the Kin}.'. But the time; eunie, with tlie Htraits of (lire neees.sity, whi-n those IMiihidelphia QiialvorH were found armed and driih-d, with all s. it was re- markal)h^ that tin; accumulation of all that is harrowing and desolating in the methods and atrocities of Indian warfare should hav(! been visited upon the province which in the purpose and pidicy of its proprietary founder was (ixpressly and solemnly ph-dged to just and amicable ro- lationa with the savages. It is but right, theref(U'o, to mak(! recognition of the fact that tlu; Quakers had no initiative agency in these hostilities, and did their utmost, even to what seemed an indidgence in Hupineness, iipathy, and indill'cruncu tu the calamities visited upon the white IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 'siiai iM IIP 2 12.0 III— 1-4 11.6 V] <^ m 'e/. ^m' '' /a op. /A Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 fc ^>/^. Q- i-?. 5> i v\ .' 11 S li m 858 COLONIAL RELATIONS WITH THE INDIANS. settlers oil their bounds, to restrain the visiting of any vengeance upon the savages. The principal sufferers on the outskirts of the province were not Quakers, but, as we have noticed, Scotch-Irish Presbyterians. Though these venturesome pioneers themselves provoked the liLte of the savages, they suffered as common victims of the great con- spiracy of tlie tribes. An important word, which we meet more frequently than any other in every historic reference to our Indian relations, is that word " Frontiers." It is used to define a supposed and somewhat imaginary boundary line between the fixed white settlements and territory vacant or still occupied by the Indians. That boundary line has always been, as it is now, a very ragged and unstable one. It has proved to be like the horizon, when one is walking towards it; it has never been a real barrier, but always movable, and always a line of strife and conflict. It has been shifting between every mountain range and every broad river between the Gulf of Mexico and the Lake of the Woods, till it has be- come self-obliterated, and no longer a significant word. Our frontiers, which that boundary line was supposed to limit, have become merged and blurred on the whole of this side of our continent, and have begun to advance inwards from the Pacific coast. Less than three hundred years ago, there was not that number of Europeans on our broad domain : there are now more than forty millions of that stock here. In the development reaching to that result, it would be diflicult to say where, for the space of even a single year, the fron- tiers of the white man liave rested. The jiresent domain of the United States may be set before our view, under joint European discovery and occupancy, as parted in three longitudinal strips dividing the continent to three great nationalities. Thus to Spain would be assigned the Pacific coast, advancing towards the Rocky Mountains ; to France, the middle strip, from those Mountains to the Alleghanies ; , THE SHIFTING FRONTIERS. 359 ' and to Great Britain, the Atlantic seaboard. As we fol- low out in the records and romances of our liistory the steady advance of exploration and settlement under crown and proprietary grants, opening the inner recesses of our continent, we trace the workings of two great branches of enterprise, — the one, combined and public, associated and aided by royalty and patronage ; the other, guided wholly by individual energy and resources. The rival ei'l'orts and conflicting claims of European sovereignties have set the great stake on trial by the ordeal of battle between white men. The ardor and heroism of individual ])ioneer advent- urers have pushed beyond the ventures of any associated enterprise, and, Avith a persistency of purpose which has seemed almost like the goading of fate, have resolved that this magnificent domain should no longer serve for the tramping covert of roaming and yelping savages, but should yield itself to the uses of civilized man. Hard would it have been for the aborigines, at any time since their first sight of Europeans, to have said where the frontier boun- dary line was to be drawn. Yet none the less has there been hero always a line, however unstable and shifting, which may be said to have marked the frontiers of the white settlement. Deeply and distinctly, ineffaccably forever, has that line been drawn at different times, in the records of heroism and tragedy, in deeds and tales of courage, daring, barbarity, and agony. I think T speak within the bounds of sober truth, when I say that there is not anywhere on this continent an area of twenty square miles that has not witnessed a death strug- gle between the white and tlic red men, not merely as indi- viduals, but in bands. Never was a people so concerned, as within the last half century our own ])eople have be- come, in searching out tlie local history and tracing tlie human associations of every spot of our settled territory. Indeed, we arc overlaying our history with piles and mas- ses of literature which no one lifetime can ever master. 860 COLONIAL RELATIONS WITH THE INDIANS. And the records or traditions of every town and village narration begin witli an Indian story. We might expect it would be so as regards our seaboard, but it is equally and even cni})hatically the same with the youngest settle- ment of the West. If there might be judicious digests of personal experience and adventure in our successive fron- tiers, with the fresh coloring of real nature and actual life, without any heightening from romance, what stores of exciting and thrilliiig literature in biography and ballad would be ])rovidcd for our young readers in the coming generations ! When there are no longer here any virgin soil, nor pathless forests, nor lurking beasts, nor rivers unbridgcd, undammed, reposing with their lakes in wild solitudes ; when cities and villages, manufactories and railways, fast dwellings and secure higliways, stretch from ocean to ocean, — how breezy and rejuvenating will be the gathered lore of our early days of pioneers and advcjiturers, of white men who became Indians, of hardy and self-reliant solitary explorers and trappers, who trod only on grass and leaves, lived on their surroundings, drank from the stream, slept under the stars, and were ready at any moment for the yelling savage and his tomahawk ! We are to remember that, with the single exception of the English Puritan colonists, the first Europeans to come here were for a considerable time only men, without wo- men, and to a man adventurers, daring, self-reliant, full of nerve and vigor, — often, too, reckless. It was not in the nature of such men to remain still anywhere. They did not love any kind of industrious, quiet occujjation any bet- ter than did the Indians. Tillage and handicrafts were an abomination to most of them ; they meant that the soil, the waters, and the woods should yield them free suste- nance. The larr,^ mass of them deliberately cast them- selves upon the Indian supplies, meagre as these often were. But as the stream of colonization swelled, the necessity of labor for life became a stern one. Then single settlers, « MILITARY ROADS AND ARMY POSTS. 861 ' groups, or families began to trace the rivers inland to their sources, in search of fertile meadows and bottom lands, and game and peltry. From that time we began to have frontiers, and we have had them ever since. We may draw tlicir lines as they advanced from year to year, by our river courses, and our mountain ranges and ricli val- leys. The AUcghanies seemed for a brief time as if they would bo a permanent barrier to the English, especially as on the other side the Indians were already armed by the French and allied with them. If the genius -of Walter Scott has invested with a romantic glow the raids of cattle- lifters and freebooters on the Scottish borders, as the High- landers rushed from their glens to plunder tlie Lowlanders, what may not the pens of ready writers for all time to come do with a region like that which we first called the West, with its tales of prowess and heroism, of lonely set- tlers and S[)arse garrisons, and of fierce struggles in wliich every creek and meadow and hill-top was the prize at stake between red men and white men! The field for our story- tellers and romancers and poets is indeed a rich one. Cooper's tales and Campbell's " Gertrude of Wyoming " have hardly trenched upon its mines. When enterprise, courage, and victory had secured the line at the foot of the AUcghanies, single pioneers had already advanced the line, and lonely settlers were carry- ing the frontier onwards. It crossed the territory of our Middle States ; then Mississippi, Illinois, Wisconsin, Mis- souri, and Iowa, Kansas, Dakota, and the Plains, reaching the foot of tlie Rocky Mountains ; and tlicn the restless and adventurous white man traversed the whole land course to meet from the Pacific coast the traffickers who had gone round by sea to exchange cargoes on the Columbia. Stockade forts, army posts, sylvan camps, military roads, emigrant trains, and mail stations have year by year marked the advances of tliis frontier line. There is hardly a more interesting and suggestive theme than that caught either 302 COLONIAL RELATIONS WITH THE INDIANS. by a glance of the eye or by the close study of the mind over a full series of maps found in the journals of explorers or in our voluminous Government archives, illustrating the westward progress of our race and powei- on this con/nent. Along the courses and at the forks of all our great rivers, at their mouths and at their sources, on lake and creek, we find dotted the successive posts occupied for defence, for refuge, or for supplies. They are simply stages, — hardly so stable as that : they are scarcely more than the footmarks,'the tread from step to step, of the restless white man. And the names which these earthen burrows or palisaded defences bear on the maps (for they are in many cases passing into oblivion) are the head-lines or titles of so many stories, — the names of military heroes, or hapless victims, or tragic scenes of endurance or mas- sacre. It is hardly strange that our Western countrymen should be open to the charge from our mother land of having corrupted, or barbarized, or vulgarized the English language. Our Western explorers and adventurers have had occasion for words or vocables not found in the dic- tionaries, and they have not hesitated to invent them, or to let Nature do it for them. Our Government has under preparation an authentic and elaborate map, which is care- fully to mark the original native names for the whole con- tinent, and to note the successive nomenclature of red and white men. And the map will be a history. It will not, however, be desirable to perpetuate the names which pio- neers and "prospectors" have transiently attached from their mean and often foul vocabularies to fresh wilderness scenes. Of these the following present specimens: "Tarry- all Ranchc," "Cash Creek," Gulcher Diggings," "Buckskin Joe," "Fair Play," " Strii>and-at-him Mine," "Hooked- Man's Prairie," etc. And before or following after these military occupations of our inner expanses have gone the frontiersmen, alone or with their families. And what description, but one that ) /"-: r^v^nnt^nenm^nmvmiB^ CAPTIVES IN THE WILDERNESS. 868 includes infinite variety in feature, array, fortune, cliarac- ter, errand, and experience, will answer to tliat race of pioneers, borderers, or frontiersmen ''. They have been like the people in our cities and towns, — the best and the worst, and of all shades and textures. Looking to the promptings which move white men to turn their back upon all civilized scenes, we have to recognize alike what is noble and what is base in them, besides all those impulses which arc indifferent as regards moral qualities, and partake simjjly of restlessness, enterprise, a love of adventure and variety. Misanthroi)es, outlaws, desperadoes, and barbar- ized Christians (so called) have sought the woods and wilds, and have moved on farther as they have heard be- hind them the tread of any followers who may represent humanity. It is curious to note how soon individuals taken prisoners, lost in the woods, or dropjjcd out from the company of the first European explorers, — Spanish, French, and English, — long after they had been given up as dead, found a home among the natives, and became themselves Indians. From time to time wc meet strange surjH'ises in the old histories, as we read how these lost men, hardly preserving enough of the look and language of their former life to make themselves known or intelli- gible to their countrymen, turn up at the right moment to serve as interpreters to a later coini)any of venturesome white men. Thus Do Soto, on his first march into Florida from Tampa Bay, sent a dctachme;it to charge upon a body of tlio natives, in 1539. An ollicer was startled by the cry, — seeming to come from one of them, — " Slay me not : I am a Christian ! " The cry came from the man named on a previous page, Juan Ortiz, a native of Sevi.le in Spain, who had eleven years before been taken prisoner by the Indians in the expedition of Narvaez. He had just the accomplishments which De Soto required in the emergency, and proved invaluable to him. Instances of like character were frequent ; and such cases suggest the number of that u ^ 864 COLONIAL RELATIONS WITH THE INDIANS. i ; 1 1 ! I l\k class of men on our changing frontiers who have bridged over, in every respect, the whole dividing chasm between tlie European and the native, between civilization and savagery. The red man and the white man on the frontiers have very often interlinked their lot and destiny, and mei'ged all their differences. Hundreds of white men have been barbarized on this continent for each single red man that has been civilized. The whites have assimilated all the traits and qualities of the savage, and mastered his resources in war and hunting, and his shifts for living, in tricks, in subtlety, and cruelty. And the savage has been an apt pupil of the companion with whom he has consorted on familiar terms. He has caught English words enough to enable him to swear, and, as has been said, has seemed to regard oaths as the root-terms of our mother tongue. And with the use of the rifle and ammunition the savage acquired the taste for "• fire-water," which turns him into an incarnated fiend. He has caught also the white man's guile and fraudulcncy, which, while perhaps no worse than his own, are of another species. Foul and debasing diseases have come in desolating virulence from the miscegenation of white and red men on the frontiers. Mixed breeds of every shade and degree have brought about the result, as on good vouchers we are informed that full one sixth of those classed among the Indians have white kindred. Doubtless we must credit some advantages and facilities, as well as much trouble and mischief, to the score of these white men — recreants to civilization, outlaws, adventur- ers, prisoners, and half-breeds, in all their motley and mis- cellaneous crews — who have made themselves Indians among the distant tribes, in advance of Avhitc settlers of a better sort. They have served as go-betweens, as inter- preters, as scouts and guides, and haves enabled Govern- ment agents and military officers to hold some sort of intelligent intercourse with the natives. Something, how- ever, is to be abated from any general statement of the m,.. INDIANIZED WHITE MEN. 8G5 use of these semi-barbarized white residents among the In- dians, in their very responsible functions as interpreters. Grave consequences, very serious issues, costly money bar- gains, and complicated covenants in sum and detail have often been set in very risky dependence upon the intelli- gence, the skill, and the integrity of these interpreters. There is no question but that on very many im[)ortant occasions of treaty and agreement in settling feuds and entering into stipulations, sometimes the Government, sometimes the Indians, sometimes both parties, have suf- fered from the incompetency or dishonesty of these inter- preters. It has been comparatively easy for these men, living with and adopting the liabits of the Indians, to catch tlie few words in common use, — names of persons and objects, terms of ordinary occurrence in the converse of the camp, the hunt, and the woods, — while at tlie same time the interpreter, if himself capable of evolving abstract ideas and of the higlier processes of thought, explanation, and argument, would be wholly unable to make them mat- ters of intelligible expression in the language or dialect of a rude tribe. And there are occasions in which an in- terpreter may find his account in deceiving and bringing about a serious misunderstanding between the parties with whom he is supposed to be a competent and trustworthy medium. Many shrewd agents and army officers have agreed with a remark made by Colonel Dodge, in his " Life on the Plains," that there are special occasions on which there ought to be several interpi'eters present, so that each miglit, out of the hearing of. others, give his version of what is said on either side. But these individual whites and half-breeds who have affiliated and assimilated themselves with the Indians (outlaws, desperadoes, adventurers, or merely trappers, hunters, and restless roamers) are precursors of another set of men, — a class of frontiersmen, who are in the advance of actual settlers with their families on "»* shifting bor- 1 f 366 COLONIAL RELATIONS WITH THE INDIANS. dcrs, intending at least a temporary occupancy of the bush or the valley, even if they afterward move or "locate" themselves, os their word is, on a new spot. These s;elf- reliant men, not infrc(iuently too with wives and children who match them in their vigor and resource, passing be- yond the ever-moving line and tide of emigration, have been well described as hanging like the froth of the billows on its very edge. These, too, arc a miscellaneous gather- ing from our common humanity. While there have been among them law-defying scoundrels and wretches, carry- ing with them every form of demoralization and disease with which depraved humanity in its most degraded wrecks is ever afflicted, there have been also some who, discouraged by the selfish competitions and the struggling rivalries of human society alike in city and village, have been ready to sacrifice what would be their stinted share in the blessings of civilization for a hap-hazard lot in the woods. These, however, are all scarcely more than the rags and tatters of humanity, fringing the borders between civiliza- tion and savagery. The legitimate and substantial char- acteristics of frontier life, steady and permanent in its hold upon each league of advance on this continent, are found in a class of persons, always to be named with re- spect, and to be regarded with a profound and admiring sympathy. They have gone out to labor, and to endure all manner of sacrifices, buffetings, and risks, with a view oftener to the ultimate prosperity of their families than their own. The romance of their lives, their exposure, their general success, was an element in which they had no conscious share ; for all was reality to them, — prose, not poetry : the romantic is for other persons and other times to appreciate. It has come to be a common and pleasant fancy or opinion among vast numbers of our citizens, that we must henceforward look for our great statesmen, our presidents and high officials in the nation's service, to pii^.vpil* wm.M>p lufiiiip ■ IJIII« I4VVMI - THE PIONEERS OF CIVILIZATION. 867 those of a tliird or even a ficcontl generation in descent from such of those pioneers as in circiuustance or training, througli the hrain, or fibre, or blood of parentage in father or mother, have deveh)ped their signal powers in frontier life, — as Lincoln, who, rising before us as if moulded of Western clay, was transformed before our eyes into a statue of Carrara marble. It has been hugely with these legitimate frontier settlers, and in their behiilf and interest, that the successive conten- tions and quarrels of our (Jovernmcnt with the savage tribes have found their origin and cmbittcrmcnt. I have used the word " legitimate " in reference to these advanced pioneers of civilization on our borders. The rightful use of the word will be disputed only by those who are prepared to stand for the theory that barbarism has prior and superior rights over civilization, to the occupancy of the earth's territory. As the waters of the sea seek their freest flow with their refreshing tides up every river, inlet, and creek, so vigor- ous and vitalized humanity expands and penetrates every- where, seeking fresh fields. The people among us who are the Government claim freedom of unoccupied soil ; and all soil is in their view unoccupied, which is not wrought upon by human toil, cleared, fenced, tilled, dug, and improved. Our frontier settlers are agents and witnesses of the transi- tion between the wilderness and the cultivated field. They come into immediate contact with the Indians, by a colli- sion of interests. The rights which each party assumes and claims cannot be adjusted between them, because the basis on which they respectively rest is not common in its nature and reasonableness to both parties. CHAPTER VII. MISSIONARY EFFORTS AMONG THE INDIANS. I. General Remorks on Aims and Methods Catholic Missionaries. — III. Prote^ 'he Work. — II. Roman it Missionaries. In tlic Introductory pages of this volume a brief refer- ence was made to the fact that many earnest and costly efforts had been exerted by the white colonists of this con- tinent to offset and atone for, by benefits and blessings, the injuries they had inflicted upon the natives. The subject of Christian missions for their conversion, civilization, and instructior Avas deferred for this more deliberate treatment. So large and comprehensive a theme as this, with all its variety of material and interest, can be dealt with licre only with a conciseness hardly consistent with its importance. It will be convenient to distribute the contents of this chap- ter under the three sections indicated in its title. I. General liemarJcs on Aims and Methods of Missions. — The severest test to which the Christian religion has ever been subjected is not that of a critical searching by scholars of its historical documents ; nor that of an acute, speculative, and often irreverent philosophy ; nor even that of an estimate of its practical effect upon the characters and lives of its professors. The sternest and sharpest trial of Christianity has come from the attempts made by its instrumentality to instruct, reclaim, convert, indoctrinate, and redeem a race of heathen savages. The trial on quite THE MISSIONARY VVOUK. 369 another field lias been a severe one, and as yet without decisive or satisfactory results, in the attempts to Chris- tianize civilized heathen, — tliose reclaimed from barbarism, but still pagan (as \vc call them), — and the Orientals who hold to more or less ade(iuate reli«'ions of their own. Rut it is with the efforts to Christiaii./.e barbarians, savaerii)r uf all our missions in Canada had given the most beauti- ful ornament of this Altar, which was a very large inia;,'o of St. Francis de Sales upon satin. I liad enriched it with a border of gold and silver. I verily say that I never saw in Franco a more beautiful image of the Saint, nor more enriched than this. Indeed, to speak freely, I had scruples as to the cxi)cnso we had incurred for this when we were so poor that wo had not even the necessaries of life for our mission, not even for the most miserable. Lut my scruples did not last long, judging that on so important an occasion as this .ve ought to spare everything to insure the utmost eilicacy to implant sentiments of piety in these poor savages whom we wish to win to Jesus Christ. Our image, thus ornamented, was set upon a little satin carpet with a fringe of gold and silver. This carpet was put on tho top of the Altar of the Saint, and showed the im- ago in its whole size. At the base of the imago was a splendid circlet of china, ornamented with porcupine quills, which our sav- age =!," etc. Without these altar furnishings the Jesuit was as a workman it materials or tools. Father Lc Jcune, in th"^ ion" for 1G37, writes: — ' .eretics are greatly blamable for condemning and de- stroy i..„ images, which admit of such good uses. Those holy repre- sentations are half of the instruction which one is able to impart to savages. I had applied for some representations of hell, and of a damned soul, and there were sent to mo some on paper ; but they were too confused. The devils are mixed in with men in such a TRAINING OP INDIAN NEOPHYTES. 411 way that ono cannot get at any meaning without a very sharp study. If ono woulil paint three, four, or five devils tormenting ono soul with divers agonies, — one applying lire, another serpents, another red-hot pincers, and another holding him Ijoiind with chains, — it \\;;uld have a lino ('ilect, especially if the whole wcro distinctly shown, and rago and misery should appear on tho features of this damned soul." Tho fjood priest does not seem to have renienibered that his ludians had often seen and taken i)art in tlie reality of wliicli lie desired a paintinj?. If, instead of teaehiiif^ tho savages that the Great Futlier of the human race imitated them in the inflietion of torture, what would luive been tho effect upon tiiem of a pieture of the benedictive Saviour, the Great Physieian, standing in a group of suH'erera by every ill and woo, who received from him lelief and blessing ? liow in contrast with all this was the stark realism of the Puritan mceting-honsc and worship, without altar, painting, symbol, or ritual! If space permitted, I might introduce here a sketch of the noble and tragic ministry and career of Father Jogues, a young Jesuit scholar, wlio arrived at Quebec in 1080, and went among the Iroquois. The narrative of his zeal and fidelity, of his suiTcrings and mutilations, of his escape from a long captivity, of his reconsecration to his work, and of his liiud martyrdom, is so thrilling, so wrought in with marvels of heroism and endurance, as well as with variety of picturesque and shifting scenes, that it might be called a romance, if it were not for its fearfully sombre cast and close. So also is the narrative of Father Brcssani, an Italian Jesuit, who in 1642 was put upon dcs})cratc service as a missionary among the Ilurons. No hero ever did nobler work, in trial and endurance. Captured by the Iroquois, ho was tortured and mutilated, but, cseaping with life, returned to his work till the scenes of missionary labor ■t«L M } > I- ■ f !' 1. i . Ml < i 412 MISSIONARY EFFORTS AMONG THE INDIANS. amoiijj the Ilurons were reduced to a desolation. Some extracts from his narrative will ])rescnt us the most instruc- tive rc[)orts and descriptions of the missionary work of the Jesuits : — " Ijrctisani* gives us an approximation to tlie results of the Jesuit Huron missions afUr some sixteen years. '1 will say only, in one won], that the number of our neo])hytes would have been much more considerable, and that we should in a short time have made the whole country Christian, if we had had regard only for num- bers and the name. IJut we ^ad been unwilling to receive a single adult in perfect iiealth betiuo we had got their language, and had subjected to long trial, sometimes protracted through years, their piom resolution to receive baptism and to bo faithful to the law of God, which called them often to grievous difficulties. We sought to augment the joy of heaven rather than to multiply Christians in name, anil wo should have incurred a sharp reproach if any one among us had deserved to have it said of him, " Thou hast in- creased the people, but hast not increased tlie joy." So that in the space of a few years we have baptized about twelve thousand sav- ages, of whom the greater part are now — as wo are coniident — in heaven, because of their sublime fervor and their admirable con- stancy in the faith. We had predicted the eclipse of the 30th January, 1G4G, which began here an liour and a quarter before midnight. Our ('hristians were on the watch ; so that when it occurred one of the more fervent, consulting only his zeal, ran to rouse some of the savages. *' Conu'," said he, "see how worthy our missionaries arc of our confidence, aiul liesitate no longer to believe the truth which they preach." A good old man, a fervent Christian, who knew nothing of the answer of the King 8t. Louis, on the subject