University of California Berkeley . Tn-o^iT VY\ns. Q/WVIA < MEMOIRS OF AN AMERICAN LADY; WITH SKETCHES OF MANNERS AND SCENERY IN AMERICA, AS THEY EXISTED PREVIOUS TO THE REVOLUTION, BY THE- LETTERS FROM THE MOU NTAINS/' &C. &C. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. SECOND EDITION, LONDON: PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME, PATER. NOSTER-ROW; J. HATCHARD, PICCADILLY ', AND MRS. II. COOK 3 JEKMYN- STREET. 1809. 0,75 T. Davison,Whitefriars. London, TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE SIR WILLIAM GRANT, KNT. MASTER OF THE ROLLS. SIR, TT is very probable that the friends, by whofe folicitations I was in- duced to arrange in the following pages my early recollections, ftudied more the amufement I mould derive from executing this talk, than any pleafure they could expect from its completion. The principal object of this work is to record the few incidents, and the many virtues which diverfified and A 2 dif- 970126 diftinguifhed the life of a moft valued friend. Though no manners could be more fimple, no notions more pri- mitive, than thofe which prevailed among her aflbciates, the ftamp of originality with which they were marked, and the peculiar circurnftan- ces in which they flood, both with regard to my friend, and the infant fociety to which they belonged, will, I flatter myfelf, give an intereft with reflecting minds, even to this deful- tory narrative ; and the mifcellany of defcription, obfervation, and detail, which it involves. If truth, both of feeling and nar- ration, which are its only merits, prove a fufficient counterbalance to care- careleffnefs, laxity, and incoherence of ftyle, its prominent faults, I may venture to invite you, when you un- bend from the ufeful and honourable labours to which your valuable time is devoted, to trace this feeble deline- ation of an excellent, though unem- bellifhed character; and of the rapid pace with which an infant fociety has urged on its progrefs from virtuous fimplicity, to the dangerous " know- ledge of good and evil j" from tremu- lous imbecility to felf-fufficient inde- pendence. To be faithful, a delineation muft neceflarily be minute. Yet if this iketch, with all its im perfections, be honoured by your indulgent perufal, A 3 fuch fuch condcfcenfion of time and talent muft certainly be admired, and may perhaps be imitated by others. I am, SIR, very refpe&fully, Your faithful humble fervant, THE AUTHOR, LONDON, Oaober, 1808. CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. INTRODUCTION, . Page 1 CHAP. I. Province of New York. Origin of the fettlement of Albany. Singular pofleflion held by the patron. Account of his tenants, 9 CHAP. II. Account of the Five Nations, or Mohawk Indians. Building of the fort at Albany. John and Philip Schuyler, 16 CHAP. III. Colonel Schuyler perfuades four Sachems to ac- company him to England. Their reception and return, - 24 CHAP. ( viii ) CHAP. IV. Return of Colonel Schuyler and the Sachems to the interior. Literary acquifitions. Diftin- guifhes and inftru&s his favourite niece. Man- ners of the fettlers, Page 30 CHAP. V. State of religion among the fettlers. InftrudUon of children devolved on females to whom the charge of gardening, &c. was alfo committed. Sketch of the ftate of the fociety at Mew York, 38 CHAP. VI. Defcription of Albany. Manner of living there. Hermitage, &c. 44 CHAP. VII. Gentle treatment of flaves among the Albanians. Confequent attachment of domeftics. Re- flections on fervitude, 51 CHAP. VIII. Education and early habits of the Albanians de- fcribed, 61 CHAP. IX. Defeription of the manner in which the Indian traders fet out on their firft adventure, 72 CHAP. CHAP. X. Marriages, amufements, rural excurfions, &c. among the Albanians, P*g e 9 1 CHAP. XL Winter amufements of the Albanians, &c. 104 CHAP. XII. Lay-brothers. Catalina. Detached Indians, 114 CHAP. XIII. Progrefs of knowledge. Indian manners, 126 CHAP. XIV. Marriage of Mifs Schuyler. Defcription of the Flats, 141 CHAP. XV. Character of Philip Schuyler. His management of the Indians, - 151 CHAP. XVI. Account of the three brothers, - 159 CHAP. XVII. The houfe and rural ceconomy of the Flats. Birds and infeas, - 164 CHAP. CHAP. XVIII. Defcription of Colonel Schuyler's barn, the com- mon, and its various ufes, Page 176 CHAP. XIX. Military preparations. Difmterefted conduct the fureft road to popularity. Fidelity of the Mo- hawks, 1 84 CHAP. XX. Account of a refractory warrior, and of the fpirit which ftill pervaded the New England Provinces, 192 CHAP. XXI. Diftinguifhing chara&eriftics of the New York co- lonifts, to what owing. Hugonots and Pala- tines, their character, 199 CHAP. XXII. A child ftill-born. Adoption of children common in the province. Madame's visit to New Tork^ 205 CHAP. XXIII. Colonel Schuyler's partiality to the military chil- dren fucceffively adopted. Indian character falfely charged with idlenefs, - 211 CHAP, CHAP. XXIV. Progrefs of civilization in Europe. Northern na- tions inftrucled in the arts of life by thofe they had fubdued, Page 220 CHAP. XXV. Means by which the independence of the Indians was firft diminifhed, 233 CHAP. XXVI. Peculiar attractions of the Indian mode of life, Account of a fettler who refided fome time among them, 242 CHAP. XXVII. Indians only to be attached by being converted. The abortive expedition of Monf. Barre. Ironi- cal fketch of an Indian, 252 CHAP. XXVIII. Management of the Mohawks by the influence of the Chriftian Indians, 26 1 CHAP. XXIX. Madeline's adopted children. Anecdote of fifter Sufan, 273 CHAP. CHAP. XXX. Death of young Philip Schuyler. Account of his family, and of the society at the Flats , Page 286 CHAP. XXXI. Family Details, 302 CHAP. XXXII. Refourccs of Madame. Provincial cuftoms, 312 INTRO- INTRODUCTION, DEA,R SIR, Q THERS as well as you have expressed a wish to see a memoir of my earliest and most valuable friend. To gratify you and them I feel many in- ducements, and see many objections. To comply with any wish of yours is one strong inducement. To please myself with the recollection of past happiness and departed worth is an- other; and to benefit those into whose hands this imperfect sketch may fall, is a third. For, the authentic record of an ex- emplary life, though delivered in the most VOL, j, s unadorned ( a ) unadorned manner, and even degraded by poverty of style, or uncouthness of nar- ration, has an attraction for the un corrupt- ed mind. It is the rare lot of some exalted charac- ters, by the united power of virtues and of talents, to soar above their fellow-mortals, and Jeave a luminous track behind, on which successive ages gaze with wonder and de- light. ; But the sweet influence of the benign stars that now and then enlighten the page of history, is partial and unfrequent. They to whom the most important parts on the stage of life are allotted, if possessed of abilities undirected by virtue; are too often " Wise to no purpose, artful to no end," that is really good and desirable. They, again, in whom virtue is not sup- ported by wisdom, are often, with the best intentions, made subservient to the short- sighted craft of the artful and designing. Hence, though we may beat times dazzled with the blaze of heroic achievement, or contem- ( s I. contemplate with a purer satisfaction those " awful fathers of mankind," by whom nations were civilized, equitable dominion established, or liberty restored ; yet, after all, the crimes and miseries of mankind form such prominent features of the history of every country, that humanity sickens at the retrospect, and misanthropy finds an excuse amidst the Jaurels of the hero, and the deep-laid schemes of the politician: ** And yet this partial view of things Is surely not the best." BURNS. Where shall we seek an antidote to the chilling gloom left on the mind by these bustling intricate scenes, where the best characters, goaded on by furious factions or dire necessity, become involved in, crimes that their souls abhor? It is the contemplation of the peaceful virtues in the genial atmosphere of private life, that can test reconcile us to our na- ture, and quiet the turbulent emotions ex. cited by " The rriadneis of the crowd." B 2 JBut ( * ) But vice, folly, and vanity are so noisy, so restless, so ready to rush into public view, and so adapted to afford food for ma- levolent curiosity, that the still small voice of virtue, active in its own sphere, but un- willing to quit it, is drowned in their tu- mult. This is a remedy, however, " Not obvious, not obtrusive." If we would counteract the baleful in- fluence of public vige by the contempla- tion of private worth, we must penetrate into its retreats, and not be deterred from attending to its simple details by the want of that glare and bustle with which a ficti- tious or artificial character is generally sur- rounded. But in this wide field of speculation one might wander out of sight of the original subject. Let me then resume it, and re- turn to my objections. Of these the first and greatest is the dread of being inaccu- rate. Embellished facts, a mixture of truth and fiction, or, what we sometimes meet with, with, a fictitious superstructure built on a foundation of reality, would be detestable on the score of bad taste, though no moral sense were concerned or consulted. 'Tis walking on a river half frozen, that betrays your footing every moment. By these re- pulsive 'artifices no person of real discern- ment is for a moment imposed upon. You do not know exactly which part of the narrative is false ; but you are sure it is not all true, and therefore distrust what is ge- nuine, where it occurs. For this reason a fiction, happily told, takes a greater hold of the mind than a narrative of facts, evidently embellished and interwoven with inven- tions. I do not mean to discredit my own vera- city. I certainly have no intention to relate any thing that is not true. Yet in the dim distance of near forty years, unassisted by written memorials, shall I not mistake dates, misplace facts,and omit circumstances which form essential links in the chain of narra- tion? Thirty years ago, when I expressed a wish to do what I a in now about to at- B 3 tempt, ( 6 ) tempt, how differently should I have exe- cuted it. A warm heart, a vivid imagina- tion, and a tenacious memory, were then all f-illed with a theme which 1 could not touch without kindling into an enthusiasm,sacred at once to virtue and to friendship. Vene- rated friend of my youth, my guide, and my instructress! are then the dregs of an enfeebled mind, the worn affections of a wounded heart, the imperfect efforts of a decaying memory, all that remain to conse- crate thy remembrance, to make known thy worth, and to lay on thy tomb the of- fering of gratitude ? My friend's life, besides being mostly passed in unruffled peace and prosperity, affords few of those vicissitudes which asto- nish and amuse.. It is from her relations to those with whom her active benevolence connected her, that the chief interest of her story {if story it may be called) arises. It includes that of many persons, obscure indeed but for the light which her regard and beneficence reflected upon them. Yet without those subordinate persons in the drama. ( 7 ) drama, the action of human life, especially such a life as hers, cannot be carried on. Those can neither appear with grace, nor be omitted with propriety. Then, remote and retired as her situation was, the variety of nations and characters, of tongues and of complexions, with which her public spirit and private benevolence connected her, might appear wonderful to those unac- quainted with the country and the times in which she lived; without a pretty dis- tinct view of which my narrative would be unintelligible. I must be excused too for dwelling at times, on the recollection of a state of society so peculiar, so utterly dissimilar to any other that I have heard or read of, that it exhibits human nature in a new aspect, and is so far an object of rational curiosity, as well as a kind of phxnomenon in the history of coloniza- tion. I forewarn the reader not to look for lucid order in the narration, nor for intimate connection between its parts. I have no authorities to refer to, no coeval witnesses of facts to consult. In regard to B 4 the (8 ) the companions of my youth,! sit like the <4 Voice of Cona," alone on the heath; and, ,Kke him too, must muse in silence, till at intervals the " Light of my soul arises/' before I can call attention to " A tale of other times," in which several particulars relative to my friend's ancestry must ne- cessarily be included. CHAP, CHAP. I. Province of New York. Origin of the Settlement at Albany. Singular Possession held by the Patron -^Account of his Tenants. TT is well known that the Province of New York, anciently called Munhattoes by the Indians, was originally settled by a Dutch colony, which came from Holland, I think, in the time of Charles the Second. Finding the country to their liking, they were followed by others more weahhy and better informed. Indeed some of the early emigrants appear to have- been people re* spectable both from their family and cha- racter. Of these the princ : pal were the Cuylers, the Schuylers, the Renselaers the Delancys, the Cortlandts, the Tin brooks,, and the Beckmans, who have all of them been since distinguished in the civil ware, ekher as persecuted loyalists or trium- B 5, phar.t phant patriots. I do not precisely recollect the motives assigned for the voluntary exile of persons who were evidently in circumstances that might admit of their living in comfort at home, but am apt to think that the early settlers were those who adhered to the interest of the Stadtholder's family, a party which, during the minority of King William, was almost persecuted by the high republicans. They who came over at a later period probably belonged to the party which opposed the Stadtholder, and which was then in its turn depressed. These persons afterwards distinguished themselves by an aversion, nearly amount- ing to antipathy, to the British army, and indeed to all the British colonists. Their notions were mean and contracted ; their manners blunt and austere ; and their ha- bits sordid and parsimonious : As the settlement began to extend they retired, and formed new establishments,afterwards called Firkkifl, Esopus, &c. To the Schuylers, Cuylers, Delancys, Cortlandts and a few others, this descrip- tion ( 11 ) tion did by no means apply. Yet they too bore about them the tokens of former affluence and respectability, such as family plate, portraits of their ancestors executed in a superior style,and great numbers of ori- ginal paintings, some of which were much admired by acknowledged judges. Of these the subjects were generally taken from sa- cred history. . Ldo not recollect the exact time, but think it was during the last years of Charles the Second, that a settlement we then pos- sessed at Surinam was exchanged for the extensive (indeed at that time boundless) province of Munhattoes, which, in com- pliment to the then heir apparent, was called New York. Of the explored part of that country, the most fertile and beautiful was situated far inland, on the banks of the Hudson's River. This co- - pious and majestic stream is navigable I TO ' miles from its mouth for vessels of 6O or 7O ? tons burthen* Near the head of it, as. a.. kind of barrier against the natives, and a^ central resort for traders^ the foundation > B 6 was ( 12 ) was laid of a town called Oranienburgh, and afterwards by the British, Albany. After the necessary precaution of erect- ing a small stockaded fort for security, a church was built in the centre of the in- tended town, which served in different re- spects as a kind of land-mark. A gentle- man of the name of Renzelaer was con- sidered as in a manner lord paramount of this city, a pre-eminence which his suc- cessor still enjoys, both with regard to the town and the lands adjacent. The original proprietor obtained from the High and Mighty States a grant of lands, which, from the church, extended twelve miles in every direction, forming a manor twen- ty-four Dutch miles in length, the same in breadth, including lands not only of the best quality of any in the province, but the the most happily situated for the purposes both of commerce and of agriculture. This great proprietor was looked up to as much as republicansin a new country could be supposed to look up to any orie. He was called the Patroon 5 a designation tan- tamount ( 13 ) tamount to lord of the manor. Yet, in the distribution of these lands, the sturdy Bel- gian spirit of independence set limits to the power and profits of this lord of the forests, as he might then be called. None of these lands were either sold or alienated. The more wealthy settlers,as theSchuylers,Cuy- lers, &c. took very extensive leases of the fertile plains along the river, with bound- Jess liberty of woods and pasturage, to the westward. The terms were, that the lease should hold while water runs and grass gro\vs,and the landlord to receive the tenth sheaf of every kind of grain the ground produces. Thus ever accommodating the rent to the fertility of the soil, and changes of the seasons,you may suppose the tenants did not greatly fear a landlord, who could neither remove them, nor heighten their rents. Thus, without the pride of property, they had all the independence of proprie- tors. They were like German princes, who, after furnishing their contingent to the Emperor, might make war on him when they chose. Besides the profits (yearly augmenting) augmenting) which the patron drew from his ample possessions, he held in his own hands an extensive and fruitful demesne. Yet preserving in a great measure the simple and frugal hab ts of his ancestors,his wealth was not an object of envy, nor a source of corruption to his fellow -citizens. To the northward of these bounds, and at the southern extremity also, the Schuylers and Cuylers held lands of their own. But the only other great landholders I remember, holding their land by those original tenures, were Philips and Cortlandt; their lands lay also on the Hudson's River,half way down to New York, and were denominated Philips* and Cortlandt's manors. At the time of the first settling of the country the Indians were numerous and powerful along all the river ; but they consisted of wander- ing families, who, though they established some sort of local boundaries for distin- guishing the hunting grounds of each tribe, could not be said to inhabit any place. The cool and crafty Dutch governors being un- able to cope with them in arms, purchased fr@m from them the most valuable tracts for some petty consideration. They affected great friendship for them ; and, while con- scious of their own weakness, were careful not to provoke hostilities; and they,silently and insensibly, established themselves to the west. CHAF* CHAP II. Account of the Five Nations, or Mohawk Indians. Building of the Fort at Albany. John and Philip Schuyler. r\T$ the Mohawk River, aboutforty miles distant from Albany, there subsisted a confederacy of Jndiantribes,of avery diffe- rent character from those mentioned in the preceding chapter ; too sagacious to be de- ceived, and too powerful to be eradicated. These were the once renowned five na- tions, whom any one, who remembersjthem while they were a people, will hesitate to call savages. Were they savages who had fixed habitations ; who cultivated rich fields; who built castles, (for so they called their not incommodious wooden houses, surrounded with palisadoes ;) who planted maize and beans, and shewed considerable ingenuity in constructingandadorningtheir canoes. ( 17 ) canoes, arms, and clothing ? They who had wise though unwritten laws, and conducted their wars, treaties, and alliances with deep arid sound policy ; they whose eloquence was bold, nervous, and animated ; whose language was sonorous, musical, and ex- pressive ; who possessed generous and ele- vated sentiments, heroic fortitude, and un- stained probity : Wer^ these indeed sa- vages? The difference *' Of scent the headlong lioness between ** And hound sagacious, on the tainted green, ?> is not greater than that of the Mohawks hi point of civility and capacity, from other American tribes, among whom, indeed, existed a far greater diversity of character, language, &c. than Europeans seem to be aware of. This little tribute to the me- mory of a people who have been, while it soothes the pensive recollections of the writer, is not so foreign to the subject as it may at first appear. So much of the peace and safety of the infant community de- pended on the friendship and alliance of these these generous tribes; and to conciliate and tetain their affections so much address was necessary, that common characters were un- equal to the task. Minds liberal and up- right, like those I am about to describe, could alone excite that esteem, and preserve that confidence, which were essential to- wards retaining the friendship of those va- luable allies. From the time of the great rebellion, so many English refugees frequented Holland, that the language and manners of our country became familiar at the Hague, par- ticularly among the Stadtholder's party. When the province of New York fell un- der the British dominion, it became neces- sary that every body should learn our lan- guage, as all public business was carried on in the English tongue, which they did the more willingly, as, after the revolution, the accession of the Stadtholder to the English crown very much reconciled them to our government. Still, however, the English was a kind of court language ; little spo- ken, and imperfectly understood in the in- terior. ( 19 } terior. Those who carried over with them the French and English languages soon ac- quired a sway over their less enlightened fellow-settlers. Of this number were the Schuylers and Cuylers, two families among whom intellect of the superior kind seemed an inheritance, and whose intelligence and liberality of mind, fortified by well- grounded principle, carried them far be- yond the petty and narrow view r s of the rest. Habituated at home to centre all wis- dom and all happiness in commercial ad- vantages, they would have been very ill qualified to lay the foundation of an infant state in a country that afforded plenty and content, as the reward of industry, but where the very nature of the territory, as well as the state of society, precluded great pecuniary acquisitions. Their object here was to tame savage nature, and to make the boundless wild subservient to agricul- tural purposes. Commercial pursuits, were a distant prospect; and before they became of consequence, rural habits had greatly changed the character of these republicans. But ( 20 ) But the commercial spirit, inherent in all true Batavians, only slept to wake again, -when the avidity of gain was called forth by the temptation of bartering for any lu- crative commodity. The furs of the Indians gave this occasion, and were too soon made the object of the avidity of petty traders. To the infant settlement at Albany the con- sequences of this shortsighted policy might have proved fatal, had not these patriotic leaders, by their example and influence checked for a while such illiberal and dan- gerous practices. It is a fact singular and worth attending to, from the lesson it exhi- bits, that in all our distant colonies there is noother instance where a considerable town and prosperous settlement has arisen and flourished, in peace and safety, in the midst of nations disposed and often provoked to hostility, at a distance from the protection of ships, and from the only fortified city, which, always weakly garrisoned, was lit- tle fitted to awe and protect the whole pro- vince. Let it be remembered that the dis- tance from New York to Albany is 17O miles 5 miles ; and that in the intermediate space, at the period of which I speak, there was not one town or fortified place. The sha- dow of a palisadoed fort*, which then ex- isted at Albany, was occupied by a single independent company, who did duty, but were dispersed though the town, working at various trades: so scarce indeed were ar- tizans in this community, that a tradesman might in these days ask any wages he chose. To return to this settlement, which evi- dently owed its security to the wisdom of its leaders, who always acted on the simple maxim that honesty is the best policy; se- veral miles north from Albany a consider- able possession called the Flats, was inha- bited by Colonel Philip Schuyler, one of the most enlightened men in the province. This being a frontier, he would have found it a very dangerous situation had he not * It may be worth noting, that Captain Massey, who commanded this non-effective company for many years, was the father of Mrs. Lennox, an estimable character, well known for her literary productions, and for being the friend and protegee of Doctor Johnson. been been a person of singular worth, fortitude, and wisdom. If I were not afraid of tiring my reader with a detail of occurrences which, taking place before the birth of my friend might seem irrelevant to the present purpose, I could reiate many instances al- most incredible, of the power of mind dis- played by this gentleman in governing the uninstructed, without coercion or legal right. He possessed this species of power in no common degree ; his influence, with that of his brother John Schuyler, was ex- erted to conciliate the wandering tribes of Indians; and by fair traffic, for he too was a trader, and by fair liberal dealing, they attained their object. They also strength- ened the league already formed with the five Mohawk nations, by procuring for them some assistance against their enemies, the Onondagoes of the Lakes. Queen Anne had by this time succeeded the Stacltholder. The gigantic ambition of Lewis the Fourteenth actuated the re- motest parts of his extensive dominions ;. and -the encroaching spirit of that restless nation ( 23 ) nation began to discover itself in hostilities to the infant colony. A motive for this could scarce be discovered, since they pos- sessed already much more territory than they were able to occupy, the limits of which were undefined. But the province of New York was a frontier; and, as such, a kind of barrier to the southern colonies. It began also to compete for a share of the fur trade, then very considerable, before the beavers were driven back from their original haunts. In short, the province daily rose in importance; and being in a great measure protected by the Mohawk tribes, the policy of courting their alliance, and of impressing their minds with an ex- alted idea of the power and grandeur of the British empire, became obvious. I cannot recollect the name of the governor at this time ; but whoever he was, he, as well as the succeeding ones, visited the set- tlement at Albany, to observe its wise re- gulations, and growing prosperity, and to learn maxims of sound policy from those whose interests and happiness were daily promoted by the practice of it. CHAP. CHAP. III. Colonel Schuyler persuades four Sachems to accom- pany him to England. Their Reception and Re- turn, TT was thought adviseable to send over some of the heads of the tribes to Eng- land to attach them to that country: but to persuade such of them as were intelligent, sagacious, and aware of all probable dan- gers; who were strangers to all the mari- time concerns, and had never beheld the ocean; to persuade such independent 2nd high-minded warriors to forsake the safety and enjoyments of their. own country, to encounter the perils of a long voyage, and trust, themselves among entire stran- gers, and this merely to bind closer an al- liance with the sovereign of a distant coun- try a female sovereign too; a mode of government that must have appeared to them very incongruous; this was no common undertaking, nor was it easy to ( 25 ) to induce these chiefs to accede to the proposal. The principal motive for urg- ing it was, to counteract the machina- tions of the French, whose emissaries in these wild regions had even then begun to style us, in effect, a nation of shop, keepers; and to impress the tribes dwel- ling within their boundaries with vast ideas of the power and splendour of their Grand Monarque, while our sovereign, they said, ruled over a petty island, and was himself a trader. To counterwork such suggestions, it was thought requisite to give the leaders of the nation (who then in fact protected our people) an ade- quate ide^a of our power, and of the magnificence of our court. The chiefs at length consented, on this condition only, that their brother Philip, who never had been known to tell a lie, or to speak with- out thinking, should accompany them. However this gentleman's wisdom and in- tegrity might qualify him for this employ- ment, it by no means suited his placid temper, simple manners and habits of life, at once pastoral and patriarchal, to travel VOL. i, c over ( 26 ) ov0r seas, visit courts, and mingle ii* the bustle of a world, the customs of which were become foreign to those primitive inhabitants of new and remote regions. The adventure, however, succeeded be- yond his expectation ; the chiefs were pleased with the attention paid them, and with the mild and gracious manners o the queen, who at different times admit- ted them to her presence. With the good I?hiUp she had many conversations, and made hirn some valuable presents* among which, L think, was her picture ; but this with rpany others was lost, in a manner which will appear hereafter. Colonel Schuyler too was much delighted with the courteous affability of this princess; she of- fe.red to knight him, which he respectful- ly, bu r t positively refused : and being pres- sed to assign his reasons, he said he had brothers and near relations in humble cir- cumstances,, who, already his inferiors in property, would seem as, it were depressed by his elevation.: ancl though it should have no such effect on his mind, it might be the means ( 2T )' means of awakening pride or vanity in the, female part of his family. He returned, however, in triumph, having completely succeeded in his mission. The kings, as they were called in England, came back in full health, deeply impressed with esteem and attachment for a country which to them appeared the centre of arts, intelli- gence, and wisdom ; where they were treated with kindness and respect ; and were neither made the objects of perpetual exhibition, nor hurried about and dis- tracted with a succession of splendid, and to them incomprehensible sights, the quick shifting of which rather tends to harrass minds which have enough of native strength to reflect on what they see, with- out knowledge sufficient to comprehend it. It is to this childish and injudicious mode of treating those uncivilised beings, to this mode of rather extorting from them a tri- bute to our vanity, than of taking the ne- cessary pains to inform and improve them, that the ill success of all subsequent experi- ments of this kind has been owing. c 2 Instead C 28 } Instead of endeavouring to conciliate them by genuine kindness, and by gradually and gently unfolding to them simple and useful truths, our manner of treating them seems calculated to dazzle, oppress, and degrade them with a display of our superior lux- uries and refinements : which, by the ele- vated and self denied Mohawk, would be regarded as unmanly and frivolous objects, and which the voluptuous and low minded Otaheitan would so far relish, that the pri- vation would seem intolerable, when he re- turned to his hogs and his cocoas. Except such as have been previously inoculated, (a precaution which voyagers have rarely had the prudence or humanity to take, there is scarcely an instance of savages brought to Europe that have not died of the small pox; induced either by the infection to which they are exposed from the indiscri- minate crowds drawn about them, or the alteration in their blood, which unusual diet, liquors, close air, and heated rooms ^ must necessarily produce. The presents made to these adventurous warriors ( 29 ) warriors were judiciou Jy adapted to their taste and customs. They consisted of shewy habits, of which all these people are very fond, and of arms made purposely in the form of those used in their own country. It was the fortune of the writer of these me- moirs, more than thirty years after, to see that great warrior and faithful ally of the British crown, the redoubted King Hen- drick, then sovereign of the five nations, splendidly arrayed in a suit of light blue, made in an antique mode, and trimmed with broad silver lace ; which was pro- bably an heir loom in the family, pre- sented to his father by his good ally, and sister, the female king of England. I cannot exactly say how long Colonel Schuyler and his companions staid in Eng- land, but I think they were nearly a year absent. In those primeval days of the settlement, when our present rapid modes of transmitting intelligence were un- known, in a country so detached and in- land as that at Albany, the return of these interesting travellers was like the first lighting of lamps in a city. c 3 CHAP. CHAP. IV. Return of Colonel Schuyler and the Sachems to the interior. Literary Acquisitions. Distinguishes and instructs his favourite Niece. Manners of the Set- tlers. nrms sagacious and intelligent patriot thus brought to the foot of the British uirO!>e the high spirited ruleK of th" boundless wild, who alike heedless of the power and splendour of distant monarchs, were accustomed to say with Fingal," suffi- cient for me is the desart, wit hall its deer and woods." It may easily be supposed that such a mind as Philip's was equally fitted to ac- quire and to communicate intelligence. He who had conversed with Addison, Marlbo- rough, and Godolphin, who had gratified the curiosity of Oxford and Bolingbroke, of Arbuthnot and of Gay, with accounts of nature in her pristine garb, and of her chil- dren in their primitive simplicity ; he who could ( 41 ) could do all this, no doubt received ample returns of various information from those best qualified to give it ; he was besides a diligent observer. Here lie improved a taste for literature, native to him, for it had not yet taken root in this uncultivated soil. He brought home the Spectator and the tragedy of Cato, Windsor Forest, Young's poem on the Last Day, and in short all the works, then published, of that constellation of wits which distinguished the last female reign. Nay more, and better, he brought Paradise Lost ; whichin after-times afforded such delight to some branches of his family, that to them " Paradise (indeed) seemed opened in the wild." But to return to our Sachems, from whom we have too long digressed: when they arrived at Albany, they did not, as might be expected, hasten out with him to communicate their discoveries, and display their acquisitions. They summoned a congress there, not only of the elders of their own nation, but also the chiefs c 4 of ojf all those with whom they were in alliance. This solemn meeting was held in the Dutch church. In the present de- pressed and diminished state of these once powerful tribes, so few traces of their wonted energy remain, that it could scarce be credited, were I able to relate with what bold and flowing eloquence they clothed their conceptions : powerful rea- soning, emphatic language, and graceful action, added force to their arguments; . they persuaded their adherents to renounce all connexion with the tribes under the French influence ; and to form a lasting league, offensive and defensive, with that great queen, whose mild majesty had so deep- ly impressed them : and with the mighty people whose kindness had gratified and whose power had astonished them, whose populous cities swarmed with arts and com- merce, and in whose floating castles they had rode safely over the ocean. I have seen a vo- lume of thespeeches of these Mohawkspre- served by Colonel Schuyler ; they were li- terally translated, so that the native idiom was ( S3 ) was preserved; which, instead of rendering them uncouth, seemed to add to their strength and sublimity. When Colonel Schuyler returned from England, about the year 1 709, his niece Ca- talina, the subject of this narrative, was a- bout seven years old; he had a daughter and sons, yet this child was early distinguished above the rest for docility, a great desire of knowledge, and an even and pleasing tem- per ; this her uncle had early observed. It was at that time very difficult to procure the means of instruction in those inlanddistricts; female education of consequence was con- ducted on a very limited scale; girls learnt needle work (in which they were indeed both skilful and ingenious) from their mothers and aunts ; they were taught too at that period to read, in Dutch, the bible, and a few Calvinist tracts of the devotional kind. But in the infancy of the settle- ment few girls read English; when they did, they were thought accomplished ; they generally spoke it, however imperfectly, and few were taught writing. This confined education precluded elegance; yet, though c 5 there ( S4 ) there was no polish, there was no vulgarity. The dregs of the people, who subside to the bottom of the mass, are not only degraded by abject poverty, but so utterly shut out from intercourse with the more en- lightened, and so rankled with envy from a consciousness of the exclusion, that a sense of their condition gradually de- bases their minds; and this degradation communicates to their manners, the vul- garity of which we complain. This more particularly applies to the lower class in towns; for mere simplicity, or even a rustic bluntness, I would by no means call vulgarity. At the same time these unembel- lished females had more comprehension of mind, more variety of ideas, more in short of what may be called original thinking,, than could easily be imagined Their thoughts were not like those of other illite- rate women, occupied by the ordinary de- tails of the day, and the gossiping tattle of the neighbourhood. The life of new set- tlers, in a situation Ijke this, where the very foundations of society were to be laid, was a life of exigencies. Every individual took. an. ( 35 ) an interest in the general welfare, and con- tributed their respective shares of intelli- gence and sagacity to aid plans that em- braced important objects relative to the common good. Every day called forth some new expedient, in which the comfort of advantage of the whole was implicated ; for there were no degrees but those assigned to worth and intellect. This singular commu- nity seemed to have a common stock, not only of sufferings and enjoyments,, but of information and ideas ; some pre-eminence, in point of knowledge and abilities, there certainly was, yet those who possessed it seemed scarcely conscious of their superi- ority; the daily occasions which called forth the exertions of mind, sharpened sagacity, arid strengthened character; avarice and vanity were there confined to very narrow limits; of money there was little; and dress was, though in some instances valuable, very plain, and not subject to the caprice of fashion. The wolves, the bears, and the enraged or intoxicated savages, that always hung threatening on their bounda- ries, made them more and more endeared c6 to ( 36 ) to each other. In this calm infancy of socie- ty, the rigours of law slept, because the fury of turbulent passions had not awaken- ed it. Fashion, that capricious tyrant over adult communities, had not erected her standard ; that standard, to which the looks, the language, the very opinions of her subjects must be adjusted. Yet no per- son appeared uncouth, or ill bred, because there was no accomplished standard of com- parison. They viewed no superior with fear or envy; and treated no inferior with contempt or cruelty; servility and insolence were thus equally unknown: perhaps they were less solicitous either to please or to shine than the members of more polished societies; because, in the first place, they had no motive either to dazzle or deceive;^ and in the next, had they attempted it, they felt there was no assuming a character with success, where their native one was so well known. Their manners, if not ele- gant and polished, were at least, easy and independent: the constant efforts necessary to extend their commercial and agricultu- ral possessions, prevented indolence ; and. industry ( 37 ) industry was the certain path to plenty* Surrounded on all sides by those whom the least instance of fraud, insolence, or grasp- ing meanness, would have rendered ir- reconcileable enemies, they were at first obliged to " assume a virtue if they had it not ;" and every circumstance that ren- ders virtue habitual, may be accounted a happy one. I may be told that the vir- tues I describe were chiefly those of situa- tion. I acknowledge it. It is no more to be expected that this equality, simpli- city, and moderation, should continue in a more advanced state of society, than that the sublime tranquility, and dewy freshness, which adds a nameless charm to the face of nature, in the dawn of a summer morning, should continue all day. Before increased wealth and ex- tended territory, these " wassel days" quickly receded ; yet it is pleasing to in^ dulge the remembrance of a spot, where peace and felicity, the result of moral ex- cellence, dwelt undisturbed, for, alas! hardly for, a century. CHAP* CHAP. V. State of Religion among the Settlers. Instruction of Children devolved on Females -to whom the Charge of Gardening, &c. was also committed. Sketch of the State of the Society at New Ydrk. T MUST finish this general outline, by say- ing something of that religion which gave stability and effect to the virtues of this infant society. Their religion, then, like their original national character, had in it little of fervour or enthusiasm : their manner of performing religious duties was regular and decent, but calm, and to more ardent imaginations might appear me- chanical. None ever doubted of the great truths of revelation, yet few seemed to dwell on the result with that lively delight which devotion produces in minds of keener sensibility. If their piety, however,, was without enthusiasm, it was also with- out bigotry : they wished others to think as they did, without shewing rancour or contempt ( 39 ) contempt towards those who did not. In many individuals, whose lives seemed go- verned by the principles of religion, the spirit of devotion seemed to be quiescent in the heart, and to break forth in exi- gencies ; yet that monster in nature, an impious woman, was never heard of among them. Indeed it was on the females that the task of religious instruction generally de- volved ; and in all cases where the heart is interested, whoever teaches, at the same time learns. Before I quit this subject, I must ob- serve a singular coincidence ; not only the training of children, but of plants, such as needed peculiar care or skill to rear them, was the female province. Every one in town or country had a garden ; but all the more hardy plants grew in the field, in rows, amidst the hills, as they were called, of Indian corn. These lofty plants sheltered them from the sun, while the same hoeing served for both : there cabbages, potatoes, and other esculent roots, with variety of gourds ( 40 ) gourds grew to a great size, and were of an excellent quality. Kidney-beans, aspa- ragus, celery, great variety of sallads and sweet herbs, cucumbers, &c. were only admitted into the garden, into which no foot of man intruded, after it was dug in spring. Here were no trees, those grew in the orchard in high perfection ; straw- berries and many high-flavoured wild fruits of the shrub kind abounded so much in the woods, that they did not think of cultivating them in their gardens, which were extremely neat but small, and not by any means calculated for walking in. I think I yet see what I have so often be- held both in town and country, a respect- able mistress of a family going out to her garden, in an April morning, with her great calash, her little painted basket of seeds, and her rake over her shoulder, to her garden labours. These were by no means merely figurative, " From morn till noon, from noon tilt dewy eve." A woman, in very easy circumstances, and abundantly gentle in form and manners, would would sow, and plant, and rake, inces- santly. These fair gardeners were also great florists : their emulation and solici- tude in this pleasing employment, did in- deed produce okier settlers : had theirs, yet lie had always one neatly- furnished room : A very clean house, with a pleasant portico before it, generally a fine stream beside his dwelling, and some Indian wigwams near it. He was wood-surrounded, and seemed absolutely . to live in the bosom of nature, screened - from all the artificial ills of life ; and those spots cleared of incumbrances, yet rich in native hixuriance, had a wild originality about them not easily described. The young parties, or sorr climes the elder one r , who set out on this woodland excursion, F 3 ( 102 . , had no fixed destination ; they travelled generally in the forenoon, and when they were tired of going on the ordinary road, turned into the bush,, and whenever they saw an inhabited spot, with the appear- ance of which they were pleased, they went in with all the ease of intimacy, and told them they were come to spend the afternoon there. The good people, not in the least surprised at this intrusion, very calmly opened the reserved apart- ments j ,r-i it were very hot, received them in the portico. The guests pro- duced their stores, and they boiled their tea-kettle, and provided cream, nuts, or any peculiar dainty of the woods which they chanced to have ; and they always furnished bread and butter, which were excellent in their kinds. The) 7 were in- vited to share the collation, which they did with great ease and frankness : then dancing, or any other amusement that struck their fancy, succeeded. They saun- tered about the bounds in the evening, and returned by moonlight. These good people felt not the least embarrassed at the ( 103 ) the rustic plainness of every thing about them ; they considered themselves as in the way, after a little longer exertion of patient industry, to have every thing that the others had j and their guests thought it an agreeable variety, in this abrupt manner to visit their sequestered abodes* * * CHAP. ( 104 ) C H A P. X. Winter Amusements of the Albanians, &c. TN winter the river, frozen to a great depth, formed the principal road through the country, and was the scene of all those amusements of skating, and sledge races, common to the north of Europe. They used in great parties to visit their friends at a distance, and having an excellent and hardy breed of horses, flew from place to place over the snow or ice in these sledges with incredi- ble rapidity, stopping a little while at every house they came to, where they were always well received, whether ac- quainted with the owners, or not. The night never impeded these travellers, for the atmosphere was so pure and serene, and the snow so reflected the moon and star-light, that the nights exceeded the days in beauty. In ( 105 ) In town all the boys were extravagantly fond of a diversion that to us would ap- pear a very odd and childish one. The great street of the town, in the midst of which, as has been formerly mentioned, stood all the churches and public build- ings, sloped down from the hill on which the fort stood, towards the river ; be- tween the buildings was an unpaved car- riage-road, the foot-path beside the houses being the only part of the street which was paved. In winter this sloping descent, continued for more than a quarter of a mile, acquired firmness from the frost, and became extremely slippery. Then the amusement commenced. Every boy and youth in town, from eight to eighteen,- had a little low sledge, made with a rope like a bridle to the front, by which one could drag it by the hand. On this one or two at most could sit, and the sloping descent being made as smooth as a look- ing-glass, by sliders' sledges, &c. perhaps an hundred at once set out in succession from the top of the street, each seated in his little sledge with the rope in his F 5 hand ( 106 ) hand, which, drawn to the right -or left, served to guide him, He pushed it off with a little stick, as one would launch a boat ; and then, with the most astonish- ing velocity, precipitated by the weight of the owner, the little machine glided past, and was at the lower end of the street in an instant. What could be so peculiarly delightful in this rapid and smooth descent, I could never discover ; yet in a more retired place, and on a smaller scale; I have tried the amuse- ment ; but to a young Albanian, slaying, as he called it, was one of the first joys of life, though attended with the drawback of dragging his sledge to the top of the declivity every time he re- newed his flight, fc-r such it might well be called. In the managing this little machine some dexterity was necessary: an unskilful Phseton was sure to fall. The vehicle was so low, that a fall was at- tended with little danger, yet with much disgrace, for an universal laugh from all aides assailed the fallen charioteer. This Was ftfom a very full chorus, for the ( 107 ) the constant and rapid succession of the train, where every one had a brother, lover, qr kinsman, brought all the young people in town to. the porticos, where they used to sit wrapt in furs till ten or eleven at night, engrossed by the delecta- ble spectacle. What magical attraction it could possibly have, I never could find out ; but I have known an Albanian, after residing some, years in Britain, and becoming a polished fine gentleman, join the sport, and slide down with the rest. Perhaps, after . all. our laborious refine- ments in amusement, being easily pleased isi one of the great secrets of happiness* as far as it is retainable in this " frail and feverish being." Now there remains another amusement to be described, which I mention with re* luctance, and should hardly venture to mention at all, if I had not found a pre- cedent for it among the virtuous Spar- tans. Had Lyeurgus himself been the founder. of their community, the young men could scarce have stolen wkh more alacrity and dexterity. I could never F 6 conjecture ( 108 ) conjecture how the custom could pos- sible originate among a set of people of such perfect and plain integrity. But thus it was. The young men now and then spent a convivial evening at a ta- vern together, where from the extreme cheapness of liquor, their bills (even when they committed an occasional excess) were very moderate. Either to lessen the expence of the supper, or from the pure love of what they stiled frolick, (An- glic6 mischief,) they never failed to steal either a roasting pig or a fat turkey for this festive occasion. The town was the scene of these depredations, which never extended beyond it. Swine and turkeys were reared in great numbers by all the inhabitants. For those they brought to town in winter^ they had an appropriate place at the lower end of the garden, in which they locked them up It is obser- vable, that these animals were the only things locked up about the house, for this good reason, that nothing else ran the least risk of being stolen. The dexterity of the theft ( 109 ) theft consisted in climbing over very high walls, watching to steal in when the ne- groes went down to feed the horse or cow, or making a clandestine entrance at some window or aperture : breaking up doors was quite out of rule, and rarely ever resorted to. These exploits were al- ways performed in the darkest nights ; if the owner heard a noise in his stables, he usually ran down with a cudgel, and laid it without mercy on any culprit he could overtake. This was either dexterously avoided, or patiently borne. To plun- der a man, and afterwards offer him any personal injury, was accounted scandalous; but the turkies or pigs were never re- covered. Jn some instances a whole band of these young plunderers would traverse the town, and carry off such a prey as would afford provision for many jovial nights. Nothing was more com- mon than to find one's brothers or nephews amongst these pillagers. Marriage was followed by two dreadful privations : a married man could not fly down the street in a little sledge r nor join a party i i a party of pig-stealers, without outraging decorum. If any of their confederates married, as they frequently did, very young, and were in circumstances to be* gin house- keeping, they were sure of an early visit of this nature from their old confederates. It was thought a great act of gallantry to overtake and chastise the robbers. I recollect an instance, of one young married man, who had not long attained to that dignity ; his turkies screaming violently one night, he ran down to chastise the aggressors ; he over- took them in the fact : but finding they were his old associates, he could not resist the force of habit, so joined the rest in another exploit of the same nature, and then shared his own turkey at the tavern. There were two inns in the town^ the masters of which were " honourable men.:' ' yet these pigs and turkies were always received and dressed without question- ing whence they came. In one instance, a young party had in this manner pro- vided a pig, and ordered it to be roasted at the King's Arms > another party at- tacked ( "1 ) tacked the Same place whence this booty was taken, but found it already rifled. This party was headed by an idle mis- chievous young man, who was the Ned Poins of his fraternity : well guessing how the stolen roasting- pig was disposed of, he ordered his friends to adjourn to the rival tavern, and .went himself to the King's Arms. Enquiring in the kitchen (where a pig was roasting) who supped there, he soon arrived at certainty: then taking an opportunity when there was no one in the kitchen but the cook-maid, he sent for one of the jovial party, who were at cards up stairs. During het absence, he cut the string by which the pig was suspended, laid it in'the dripping- pan, and through the quiet and dark streets of that sober city, carried it safely to the other tavern : where, after finish- ing the roasting , he and his companions prepared to regale themselves. Mean- time the pig was missed at the King's Arms ; and it was immediately concluded, from the dexterity and address with which this trick was performed, that no othev but but the Poins aforesaid could be the au- thor of it. A new stratagem was now devised to outwit this stealer of the stolen. An adventurous youth of the despoiled party laid down a parcel of shavings op- posite to the other tavern, and setting them in a blaze, cried fire ! a most alarm- ing sound here, where such accidents were too frequent. Every one rushed out of the house, just as supper had been served. The dextrous purveyor, who had occasioned all this disturbance, stole in, snatched up the dish with the pig in it y stole out again by the back door, and fersted his companions with the recovered spoils. These were a few idle young men, the sons of avaricious fathers, who grudging to advance the means of pushing them forward by the help of their own industry to independence, allowed them to remain so long unoccupied, that their time was wasted, and habits of conviviality at length degenerated in those of dissipation. They were not only pitied and endured, but re- ceived with a wonderful degree of kind- ness ( 113 ) iiess and indulgence. They were usually a kind of wags, went about like privi- leged persons, at whose jests no one took offence ; and were in their discourse and style of humour, so much like Shakspeare's clowns, that on reading that admirable author, I thought I recognized my old acquaintances. Of them, however, I saw little, the society admitted at my friends' being very select, CHAP. CHAP. XI. Lay -Brothers. Catalina. Detached Indians. TDEFORE I quit this attempt to delineate the members .of which this community was composed, I must mention a class of aged persons, who, united by the same re- collections, pursuits, and topics, associated very much with each other, and very little with a world which they seemed to have renounced, They might be styled lay-brothers, and were usually wi- dowers, or persons who, in consequence of some early disappointment, had re- mained unmarried. These were not de- votees, who had, as was formerly often the case in catholic countries, run from the* extreme of licentiousness to that of bi- gotry. They were generally persons who were never marked as being irre- ligious or immoral 5 and were just as little distinguished fqr peculiar strictness y or de- votional ( 115 ) votional fervour. These good men lived in the house of some relation, where they had their own apartments to themselves ; and only occasionally mixed with the fa- mily, The people of the town lived to a great age; ninety was frequently at- tained : and I have seen different indivi- duals of both sexes who had reached a hundred-. These ancients seemed to place all their delight in pious books and de- votional exercises, particularly in singing psalms,, which they would do in their own apartments for hours together. They came out and in like ghosts, and were treated as such; for they never spoke unless when addressed, and seem- ed very careless of the things of this world, like people who had got above it. Yet they were much together, and seemed to enjoy each other's conversation. Retro- spection on the scenes of early life, anti- cipations of that futurity so closely veiled from our sight, and discussions regarding various passages of holy writ, seemed their favourite themes. They were mild and benevolent, but abstracted, and unlike other ( H6 ) other people. Their happiness, for happy I am convinced they were, was of a na- ture peculiar to themselves, not obvious to others. Some there were, not defi- cient in their attention to religious duties, who living in the bosom of their fami- lies, took an active and cheerful concern to the last in all that amused or interest- ed them ; and I never understood that the lay-brothers, as I have chosen to call them, blamed them for so doing. One of the first Christian virtues, chanty in the most accepted and common sense of the word, had little scope. Here a beg- gar was unheard of. People, such as I have described in the bush, or going there, were no more considered as objects of pity, than we consider an apprentice as such, for having his time to serve before he sets up for himself. In such cases, the wealthier, because older settlers, fre- quently gave a heifer or a colt each, to a new beginner, who set about clearing land in their vicinity. Orphans were ne- ver neglected ; and from their early mar- riages, and the casualties to which their manner manner of life subjected them, these were not unfrequent. You never entered a house without meeting children. Maidens, ba- chelors and childless married people, all adopted orphans, and all treated them as if they were their own. Having given a sketch, which appears to my recollection (aided by subse- quent conversations with my fellow tra- vellers) a faithful one, of the country and its inhabitants, it is time return to the history of the mind of Miss Schuyler, for by no other circumstances than prematu- rity of intellect, and superior culture, were her . earliest years distinguished. Her father, dying early, left her very much to the tuition of his brother. Her uncle's frontier situation made a kind of barrier to the settlement ; while the pow- erful influence, that his knowledge of nature and of character, his sound judge- ment and unstained integrity, had obtain- ed over both parties, made him the bond by which the Aborigines were united with the colonists. Thus little leisure was left him for domestic enjoyments, or -or literary pursuits, for both of which his mind was peculiarly adapted. Of the leisure he could command, however, he made the best use ; and soon distin- guishing Catalina as the one amongst his family to whom nature had been most li- beral, he was at pains to cultivate her taste for reading, which soon discovered it- self, by procuring for her the best authors in history, divinity, and the belles lettres : in this latter branch, her reading was not very extensive : but then, the few .books of this kind that she possessed were very well chosen ; and she was early and intimately familiar with them. What 1 re- member of her, assisted by comparisons since made with others, has led me to think that extensive reading, superficial and indiscrimmate,such as the very easy ac- cess to books among us encourages, is not at an early period of life favourable to so- lid thinking, true taste, or fixed principle. Whatever she knew, she knew to the bottom ; and the reflections, which were thus suggested to her strong discerning mind, were digested by means, of easy and instructive ( 119 ) instructive conversation. Colonel Schuy- kr had many relations in New York ; and the governor and other ruling cha- racters there carefully cultivated the ac- quaintance of a person so well qualified to instruct and inform them on certain points. Having considerable dealings in the fur-trade too, he went every winter to the capita] for a short time, to adjust his commercial concerns, and often took his favourite niece along with him, who^ being of an uncommon quick growth and tall stature, soon attracted attention by her personal graces, as well as by the charms of her conversation. I have been told, and should conclude from a picture I have seen drawn when she was fifteen, that she was in her youth very handsome. Of this few traces remained when I knew her ; excessive corpulence having then overloaded her majestic person, and entirely changed the aspect of a counte- nance once eminently graceful. In no place did female excellence of any kind more amply receive its due tribute of applause and admiration than here, for various ( 120 ) various reasons. First, cultivation and refinement were rare. Then it was not the common routine that women should necessarily have such and such accom- plishments ; pains were taken only on minds strong enough to bear improve- ment without becoming conceited or pe- dantic. And lastly, as the spur of emu- lation was not invidiously applied, those who acquired a superior degree of know- ledge considered themselves as very for- tunate in having a new source of enjoy- ment opened to them. But never having been made to understand that the chief motive of excelling was to dazzle or out- shine others, they no more thought of despising their less fortunate companions, than of assuming pre-eminence for disco- vering a wild plum-tree or bee-hive in the woods, though, as in the former case, they would have regarded such a discovery as a benefit and a pleasure ; their acquisi- tions, therefore, were never shaded by affectation. The women were all natives of the country, and few had more than domestic domestic education. But men, who pos- sessed the advantages of early culture and usage of the world, daily arrived on the continent from different parts of Europe. So that if we may be indulged in the inelegant liberty of talking commercially of female elegance, the supply was not equal to the demand. It may be easily supposed that Miss Schuyler met with due attention ; who, even at this early age, was respected for the strength of her character, and the dignity and compo- sure of her manners. Her mother, whom she delighted to recollect, was mild, pious, and amiable; her acknowledged worth was chastened by the utmost diffidence. Yet accustomed to exercise a certain power over the minds of the natives, she had great influence in restraining their irregularities, and swaying their opinions. From her knowledge of their language, and habit of conversing with them, some detached Indian families resided for a while in summer in the vicinity of houses occupied by the more wealthy and benevolent inhabitants. They generally VOL. i. built ( 122 ) built a slight wigwam under shelter of 'the orchard-fence oil the shadiest side ; and never were neighbours more harm- ' less, peaceable and obliging ; I might truly add, industrious; for in one way or other they were constantly occupied. The women and their children employed themselves in many ingenious handicrafts, which sinde the introduction of Euro- pean arts and manufactures, have greatly declined. Baking trays, wooden dishes, ladles and spoons, shovels and rakes; brooms of a peculiar manufacture, made by splitting a birch -block into slender but tough filaments ; baskets of all kinds and sizes, made of similar filaments, en- riched with the most beautiful colours, which they alone knew how to extract from vegetable substances, and incorpo- ' rate with the wood. They made also of the birch-bark, (which is here so strong ' and tenacious, that cradles and canoes are made of it,) many receptacles for hold- ing fruit and other things, curiously adorned with embroidery, not inelegant, done with the sinews of deer ; and leggans and ( 123 ) and moquesans, a very comfortable and highly ornamental substitute for shoes and stockings, then universally used in winter among the men of our own people. They had also a beautiful manufacture of deer- skin, softened to the consistence of the finest Chamois leather, and embroidered with beads of Wampum, formed like bu- gles ; these, with great -art and industry, they formed out of shells,which had the.ap- pearance of fine white porcelaine, veined with purple. This embroidery shewed both skill and taste, and was among themselves highly valued. They had belts, large embroidered garters, and many other ornaments, formed, first of deer sinews, divided to the size of coarse thread, and afterwards, when they obtained worsted thread from us, of that material, formed in a manner which I could never compre- hend. It was neither knitted nor wrought in the manner of net, nor yet woven j but the texture was more like that of an officer's sash than any thing lean com- pare it to. While the women and chil- dren were thus employed, the men some- G 2 times f 124 ) times assisted them in the more laborious part of their business, but oftener occu- pied themselves in fishing on the rivers, and drying or preserving, by means of smoke, in sheds erected for the purpose, sturgeon and large eels, which they caught in great quantities, and of an extraordi- nary size, for winter provision. Boys on the verge of manhood, and ambitious to be admitted into the hunting parties of the ensuing winter, exercised themselves in trying to improve their skill in archery, by shooting birds, squir- rels, and racoons. These petty huntings helped to support the little colony in the neighbourhood, which however derived its principal subsistence from an exchange of their manufactures with the neigh- bouring family, for milk, bread, and other articles of food. The summer residence of these ingeni- ous artisans promoted a great intimacy between the females of the vicinity and the Indian women, whose sagacity and comprehension of mind werebeyondbelief. It is a singular circumstance, that though they ( 125 ) they saw the negroes in every respectable family not only treated with humanity, but cherished with parental kindness, they always regarded them with contempt and dislike, as an inferior race, and would have no communication with them. It was necessary then that all conversations- should be held, and all business transacted with these females, by the mistress of the family. In the infancy of the settlement the Indian language was familiar to the more intelligent inhabitants, who found it very useful, and were, no doubt, pleased with its nervous and emphatic idiom, and its lofty and sonorous cadence* It was in- deed a noble and copious language, when one considers that it served as the vehicle of thought to a people whose ideas and sphere of action we should consider as so very confined. CHAP. (< 126 ) CHAP. XIII. Progress of Knowledge. Indian Manners. /CONVERSATION with those interesting and deeply reflecting natives, was, to think- ing minds, no mean source of entertain- ment. Communication soon grew easier; for the Indians had a singular facility in acquiring languages ; the children 'especi- ally; as I well remember, from experimental knowledge, for I delighted to hover about the wigwam, and converse with those of the Indians, and we very frequently min- gled languages. But to return to my sub- ject : whatever comfort or advantage a good and benevolent mind possesses, it is willing to extend to others. The mother of my friend, and other matrons, who like her experienced the consolations, the hopes, and the joys of Christianity, wished those estimable natives to share in their pure enjoyments. Of all others these mild and practical Christians Christians were the best fitted for making proselytes. Unlike professed missiona- ries, whose zeal is not always seconded by judgement, they did not begin by alarming the jealousy with which all manner of people watch over their here- ditary prejudices. Engaged in active life, they had daily opportunities of de- monstrating the truth of their religion by its influence upon their conduct, Equally unable and unwilling to enter into deep disquisitions or polemical argu- ments, their calm and unstudied explana- tions of the essential doctrines of Chris- tianity were the natural results which arose out of their ordinary conversation. To make this better understood, I must endeavour to explain what I have observ- ed in the unpolished society that occu- pies the wild and remote districts of dif- ferent countries. Their conversation is not only more original, but, however odd the expression may appear, more philosophical than that of persons equally destitute of mental culture in more po- pulous districts. They derive their sub- G 4 jects jects of reflection and conversation ra- ther from natural objects, which lead minds, possessing a certain degree of in- telligence, more forward to trace effects to their causes. Nature there, too, is seen arrayed in virgin beauty and simple ma- jesty. Her various aspects are more grand and impressive. Her voice is more distinctly heard, and sinks deeper into the heart. These people, more dependent on the simples of the fields and the wild fruits of the woods ; better acquainted with the forms and instincts of the birds and beasts, their fellow denizens in the wild ; and more observant of every con- stellation and every change in the sky, from living so much in the open air, have a wider range of ideas than we are aware of. "With us, art every where combats nature, opposes her plainest dic- tates, and too often conquers her. The poor are so confined to the spot where their occupations lie, so engrossed by their struggles for daily bread, and so sur- rounded by the works of man, that those of their Creator are almost exclud- ed ed from their view, at least they form a very small part of the subjects that en- gross their thoughts. What knowledge they have is often merely the husks and orts that fall from the table of their su- periors, which they swallow without chewing. x Many of those who are one degree above the lowest class, see nature in poe- try, novels, and other books, and never think of looking for her any where else : like a person amused by the reflection o the starry heavens or shifting clouds from a calm lake, who never lifts his eyes to those objects of which he sees the imper- fect though resembling pictures. Those who live in the undisguised bo- som of tranquil nature, and whose cliier employment it is, by disincumbering her of waste luxuriance, to discover and im- prove her latent beauties, need no bor- rowed enthusiasm to relish her sublime and graceful features. The venerable sim- plicity of the sacred scriptures has some- thing extremely attractive for a mind in this state. The soul which is the most G 5 familiar < 430 } familiar with its Creator in his works, will be always the most ready to recognize him in his word. Conversations, which had for their subject the nature and virtues of plants, the extent and boundaries of woods and lakes, and the various oper- ations of instinct in animals, under those circumstances where they are solely direct- ed by it, and the distinct customs and manners of various untutored nations, tended to expand the mind, and teach it to aspire to more perfect intelligence. The untaught reasoneis of the woods could not but observe that the Europeans knew much that was concealed from them, and derived many benefits and much power from that knowledge. Where they saw active virtue keep pace with superior knowledge, it was natural to conclude that persons thus beneficially enlightened, had clearer and ampler views, of that futurity, which to them only dimly gleamed through formless darkness. They would suppose, too, that those illu- minated beings had some means of ap- proaching nearer to that source of light and ( 131 ): and perfection from which Wisdom is de- rived, than they themselves had attained. Their minds being thus prepared by de- grees, these pious matrons (probably assist- ed by those lay-brothers of whom I have spoken) began to diffuse the k n owledge of the distinguishing doctrines of Christi- anity among the elderly and well-inten- tioned Indian women. These did not by any means receive the truth without examination :' the acuteness of intel- lect which discovered itself in their objec- tions (of which I have heard many strik- ing instances) was astonishing; yet the humble and successful instruments of en- lightening those sincere and candid peo- ple, did by no means take to themselves any merit in making proselytes. When they found their auditors dispo sec j to jj ten diligently to the truth, they sent them to the clergyman of the place, who instructed, confirmed, and baptized them. I am sorry that I have not a clear and distinct recollection of the exact manner, or of the numbers, &c. of these first con- verts, of whom I shall say more here- G 6 after 5 ( 132 ) after ; but I know that this was the usu* nl process. They were, however, both zealous and persevering, and proved the means of bringing many others under the law of love, to which it is reasonable to suppose the safety of this unprotected frontier was greatly owing at that crisis, that of the first attacks of the French. The Indian women, who from motives of attachment to particular families, or for the purpose of carrying on the small traffic already mentioned, were wont to pass their summers near the settlers, were of detached and wandering fa- milies, who preferred this mode of living to the labour of tilling the ground, which entirely devolved upon the women among the Five nations. By tilling the ground I would not be understood to mean any settled mode of agriculture, requiring cat- tle,! nclosures, or implements of husbandry. Grain made but a very subordinate part of their subsistence, which was chiefly deriv- ed from fishing ard hunting. The little they had was maize j this with kid- nev ( 133 ) ney beans and tobacco, the only plants they cultivated, was sown in some very pleasant fields along the Mohawk river, by the women, who had no implements of tillage but the hoe, and a kind of wooden spade. These fields lay round their castles, and while the women were thus employed, the men were catching and drying fish by the rivers or on the lakes. The younger girls were much busied during summer and autumn, in gathering wild fruits, berries, and grapes, which they had a peculiar mode of dry- ing, to preserve them for the winter. The great cranberry they gathered in a- bundance, which, without being dried, would last the whole winter, and was much used by the settlers. These dried fruits were no luxury ; a fastidious taste would entirely reject them. Yet, be- sides furnishing another article of food, they had their use, as was evident. With- out some antiseptic, they who lived the whole winter on animal food, without a single vegetable, or any thing of the nature of bread, unless now and then a little maize, I 134 ) maize, which they had the art of boiling down to softness in lye of wood-ashes, must have been liable to that great scourge of northern nations in their , primitive state, the scurvy, had not this simple de- sert been a preservative against it. Rheu- matisms, and sometimes agues affected them, but no symptom of any cutaneous disease was ever seen on an Indian. The stragglers from the confines of the orchards did not fail to join their tribes in winter ; an,d were zealous, and often successful in spreading their new opinions. The Indians supposed that every country had its own mode of ho- nouring the great spirits to whom all were equally acceptable. This had, on one hand, the bad effect of making them satisfied with their own vague and unde- fined notions ; and on the other, the good one of making them very tolerant of those of others. If you do not insult their belief, (for mode of worship they have scarce any,) they will hear you talk of yours with the greatest patience and attention. Their good breeding, in this respect, ( 135 ) respect, was really superlative. No Indian ever interrupted any, the most idle tal- ker : but when they concluded, he would deliberately, methodically, and not un- gracefully answer or comment upon all they had said, in a manner which shewed that not a word had escaped him. - ' I Lady Mary Montague ludicrously says, that the, court ;of Vienna was the paradise of old women; and that there is no other place in the world where a woman past fifty, excites the least interest* Had her travels extended to. the interior of North 'jtoerica, *she would have seen another instance of this inversion of the common mode of thinking. Here a wo- uran never -was of consequence, till she had a son :old enough to fight the bat- tles of his country; from that date, she held .a superior rank in society ; was allowed to live at ease, and even called to. consultations on national affairs. In savage and warlike countries, the reign of beauty 'is very short, and its influence comparatively limited. The girls in child- hood had a very pleasing appearance ; but excepting ( 136 ) excepting their fine hair, eyes and teeth, every external grace was soon banished by perpetual drudgery, carrying burdens too heavy to be borne, and other slavish em- ployments considered beneath the dignity of the men. These walked before, erect and graceful, decked with ornaments, which set off to advantage the symmetry of their well formed persons, while the poor women followed, meanly attired, bent under the weight of the children and utensils which they carried every where with them, and disfigured and degraded by ceaseless toils. They were very early married : for a Mohawk had no other servant but his wife; and whenever he commenced hunter, it was requisite that he should have some one to carry his load, cook his kettle, make his moquesans, and above all, produce the young warriors who were to succeed him in his honours of the chase and of the tomahawk. Wherever man is a mere hunter, woman is a mere slave. It is domestic intercourse that softens man, and elevates woman ; and of that there can be little, where the f 137 ) the employments and amusements are not in common : the ancient Caledoni- ans honoured the fair ; but then, it is to be observed, they were fair huntresses, and moved . in the light of their beauty, to the hill of roes ; and the culinary toils were entirely left to the rougher sex. When the young warrior above alluded to made his appearance, it softened the cares of his mother ; who well knew that when he grew up, every deficiency in tenderness to his wife would be made up in superabundant duty and affection to her. If it were possible to carry filial veneration to excess, it was done here ; for all other charities were absorbed in it* I wonder this system of depressing the sex in their early years, to exalt them when all their juvenile attractions were flown, and when mind alone can distin- guish them, has not occurred to our mo- dern reformers. The Mohawks took good care not to admit their women to share their prerogatives, till they approved themselves good wives and mothers. This digression, long as it is, has a very intimate ( 138 ) intimate connexion with the character of my friend ; she early adopted the views of her family, in regard to those friendly In- dians, which greatly enlarged her mind, and ever after influenced her conduct. She was, even in childhood, well acquaint- ed with their language, opinions, and customs ; and, like every other person possessed of a liberality or benevolence of mind, whom chance had brought ac- quainted with them, was exceedingly par- tial to those high-souled and generous na- tives. The Mohawk language was early familiar to her ; she spoke Dutch and English with equal ease and purity ; was no stranger to the French tongue ; and could (I think) read German. I have heard her speak it From the conver- sations which her active curiosity led her to hold with native Africans, brought into her father's family, she was more intimately acquainted with the customs, manners, and government of their native country, than she could have been, by reading all that was ever written on the subject. Books are, no doubt, the gra- naries ( 1S9 ) naries of knowledge ; but a diligent en- quiring mind, in the active morning of life, will find it strewed like manna over the face of the earth ; and need not in all cases, rest satisfied with intelligence accu- mulated by others, and tinctured with their passions and prejudices. Whoever reads Homer or Shakespear may daily dis- cover that they describe both nature and art from their own observation. Conse- quently you see the images, reflected from the mirror -of their great minds, differing from the descriptions of others, as the reflection of an object in all its colours and proportions from any polished sur- face, does from a shadow on a wall, or from a picture drawn from recollection The enlarged mind of my friend, and her simple yet easy and dignified manners, made her readily adapt herself to those with whom she conversed, and every where command respect and kindness ; and, on a nearer acquaintance, affection followed; but she had too much sedate- ness and independence to adopt those ca- ressing and insinuating manners, by which the ( 140 ) the vain and the artful so soon find their way into shallow minds. Her character did not captivate at once, but gradually unfolded itself; and you had always something new to discover. Her style was grave and masculine, without the least embellishment; and at the same time so pure, that every thing she said might be printed without correction, and so plain, that the most ignorant and most inferior persons were never at a loss to comprehend it. It possessed, too, a won- derful flexibility ; it seemed to rise and fall with the subject. I have not met with a style which, to noble and uniform simplicity, united such variety of expres- sion. Whoever drinks knowledge pure at its sources, solely from a delight in fill- ing the capacities of a large mind, without the desire of dazzling or out-shining others ; whoever speaks for the sole pur- pose of conveying to other minds those ideas, from which he himself has received pleasure and advantage, may possess this chaste and natural style : but it is not to be acquired by art or study. CHA?, CHAP. XIV. Marriage of Miss Schuyler. Description of th Fiats. TV/fiss S. had the happiness to captivate her cousin Philip, eldest son of her uncle, who was ten years older than her- self, and was in all resfiects to be accounted a suitable, and in the worldly sense, an advantageous match for her. His father was highly satisfied to have the two ob- jects on whom he had bestowed so much care and culture united. They were mar- ried in the year 1719*, when she was in the eighteenth year of her age. When the old colonel died, he left considerable possessions to be divided among his children, and from the quantity of plate, paintings. Sec. which they shared, there is reason to believe he must have brought some of his wealth from Holland, as in those days people had little means of en- * Miss Schuyler was born in the year 1701. riching ( 142 ) riching themselves in new settlements. He had also considerable possessions in a place near the town, now called Fish Kill, about twenty miles below Albany. His family residence, however, was at the Flats, a fertile and beautiful plain on the banks of the river. He possessed about two miles on a stretch of that rich and level champain. This possession was bounded on the east by the river Hud- son, whose high banks overhung the stream and its pebbly strand, and were both adorned and defended by elms, (larger than ever I have seen in any other place), decked with natural festoons of wild grapes, which abound along the f banks of this noble stream. These lofty elms were left, when the country was cleared, to fortify the banks against the masses of thick ice which make war upon them in spring, when the melting snows burst this glassy pavement, and .raise the waters many feet above their usual level. This precaution not only answers that purpose, but gratifies the mind by presenting to the eye a, rem- nant nant of the wild magnificence of nature amidst the smiling scenes produced by varied and successful cultivation. As you came along by the north end of the town, where the Patroon had his seat, you afterwards past by the inclosures of the citizens, where (as formerly described) they planted their corn, and arrived at the Flats, Colonel Schuvler's possession. On the right you saw the river in all its beauty, there above a mile broad. On the opposite side the view was bounded by steep hills, covered with lofty pines from which a waterfall descended, which not only gave animation to the sylvan scene, but was the best barometer ima- ginable, foretelling by its varied and in- telligible sounds every approaching change, not only of the weather, but 0f the wind. Opposite to the grounds lay an island, above a mile in length, and about a quarter in breadth, which also belonged to the Colonel : exquisitely beautiful it was, and though the haunt 1 most delighted in, it is not in my power to describe it. Imagine ( 144 ) Imagine a little Egypt, yearly overflowed, and of the most redundant fertility. This charming spot was at first covered with wood, like the rest of the country, except a long field in the middle, where the Indians had probably cultivated maize ; round this was a broad shelving border, where the grey and the weeping willows, the bending osier, and numberless aquatic plants not known in this country, were allowed to flourish in the utmost luxu- riance, while within, some tall sycamores and wild fruit trees towered above the rest. Thus was formed a broad belt, which in winter proved an impenetrable barrier against the broken ice, and in summer was the haunt of numberless birds and small animals, who dwelt in perfect safety, it being impossible to penetrate it. Num- berless were the productions of this luxu- riant spot ; never was a richer field for a botanist ; for though the ice was kept off, the turbid waters of the spring flood over- flowed it annually, and not only deposited a rich sediment, but left the seeds of va- rious rious plants swept from the shores U had passed by. The centre of the island, which was much higher than the sides, produced with a slight degree of culture the most abundant crops of wheat, hay, and flax. At the end of the island, which was exactly opposite to the family mansion, a long sand-bank extended ; on this was a very valuable fishing-place, of which a considerable profit might be made. In summer, when the water was low, this narrow stripe (for such it was) came in sight, and furnished an amusing spectacle ; for there the bald or white- headed eagle (a large picturesque bird, very frequent in this country), the os- pray, the heron, and the curlew, used to stand in great numbers in a long row, like a military arrangement, for a whole summer day, fishing for perch and a kind of fresh-water herring which abounded there. At the same season a vafiety of wild ducks, which bred on the shores of the island, (among which was a small white diver of an elegant form), led forth their young to try their first excursion. What VOL. i. H a scene ( 146 ) a scene have I beheld on a calm summer evening ! There indeed were " fringed banks" richly fringed, and wonderfully vaiiegated ; where every imaginable shade of colour mingled, and where life teemed prolific on every side. The ri- ver, a perfect mirror, reflected the pine- covered hills opposite ; and the pliant shades bent without a wind, round this enchanting island, while hundreds of the white divers, saw-bill ducks with scarlet heads, teal, and other aquatic birds, sport- ed at once on the calm waters. At the discharge of a gun from the shore, these feathered beauties all disappeared at once, as if by magic, and in an instant rose again to view in different places. How much they seemed to enjoy that life which was so new to them ! for they were the young broods first led forth to sport upon the waters. While the fixed attitude and lofty port of the large birds of prey, who were ranged upon the sandy shelf, formed an inverted picture in the same clear mirror, and were a pleasing Contrast to the playful multitude around. These These they never attempted to disturb, well aware of the facility of escape which their old retreats afforded them. Such of my readers as have had patience to follow me to this favourite isle, will be, ere^ now, as much bewildered as I have often been on its luxuriant shores. To return to the southward : on the con- fines of what might then be called an in- terminable wild, rose two gently sloping eminences, about half a mile from the shore. From each of these a large brook de- scended, bending through the plain, and having its course marked by the shades of primaeval trees and shrubs, left there to shelter the cattle when the ground was cleared. On these eminences, in the near neighbourhood and full view of the mansion at the Flats, were two large and well built dwellings, inhabited by Colonel Schuyler's two younger sons, Peter and Jeremiah. To the elder was allotted the place inhabited by his father, which, from its lower situation and level surface, was called the Flats. There was a custom pre- H 2 valent ( 148 ) valent among the new settlers something like that of gavel-kind: they made a pretty equal division of lands among their younger sons. The eldest, by pre-emi- nence of birth, had a larger share, an J generally succeeded to the domain in- 'habited by his father, with the slaves, cat- tie, and effects upon it. This, in the present instance, was the lot of the eldest son of that family whose possessions I have been describing. His portion of land on the shore of the ri- ver was scarcely equal in value to those of his brothers, to whose possessions the brooks I have mentioned formed a natu- ral boundary, dividing them from each other, and from his. To him was allot- ted the costly furniture of the family, of which paintings, plate and china consti- tuted the valuable part ; every thing else being merely plain and useful. 1 hey had also a large house in Albany, which they occupied occasionally. I have neglected to describe in its right place the termination or back ground of the ( 149 ) the landscape I have such delight in recol lecting. There the solemn and intermi- nable forest was varied at intervals by rising grounds, near streams where birch and hiccory, maple and poplar, cheered the eye with a lighter green, through the prevailing shade of dusky pines. On the border of the wood, where the trees had been thinned for fir- ing, was a broad shrubbery all along, which marked the edges of the wood above the possessions of the brothers as far as it extended. This was formed of shumack, a shrub with leaves, continually changing colour through all the varieties, from blending green and yellow, to orange tawny, and adorned with large lilac-shaped clusters of bright scarlet grains, covered with pun- gent dust of a sharp flavour, at once sa- line and acid. This the Indians use as salt to their food, and for the dyeing of different colours. The red glow, which was the general result of this natural bor- der, had a fine effect, thrown out from the dusky shades which towered behind. H 3 To To the northward, a sandy tract, co- vered with low pines, formed a boundary betwixt the Flats and Stonehook, which lay further up the river. C H A IV -v CHAP. XV. Character of Philip Schuyler. His Management o the Indians. pHiLip SCHUYLER, who, on the death of his father, succeeded to the inheritance 1 have been describing, was a person of a mild benevolent character, and an excel- lent understanding, which had received more culture than was usual in that country. But whether he had returned to Europe, for the purpose of acquiring knowledge in the public seminaries there, or had been instructed by any French protestants, who were sometimes retained in the principal families for such purposes, I do not exactly know ; but am led rather to suppose the latter, from the connexion which always subsisted between that class of people and the Schuyler family. When the intimacy between this gen- tleman and the subject of these memoirs took place she was a mere child ; for the colonel, as he was soon after called, was H 4 ten ten years older than she. This was singular there, where most men married under twenty. But his early years were occupied by momentous concerns ; for, by this time, the public safety began to be endangered by the insidious wiles of the French Canadians, to whom our fron- tier settlers began to be formidable ri- vals in the fur trade, which the former wished to engross. In process of time, the Indians, criminally indu!p;cd with strong liquors, by the most avaricious and unprincipled of the traders, began to have an insatiable desire for them, and the traders* avidity for gain increased in ihe same proportion. Occasional fraud on the one hand gave rise to occasional violence on the other. Mutual confidence decayed, and hostility betrayed itself, when intoxication laid open every thought. Some of our trade were, as the colonists alleged, treacherously killed in violation of treaties solemnly concluded between them and the offend- ing tribes. The mediation and protection of the Mohawk Mohawk tribes were, as usual, appealed to. But these shrewd politicians saw evidently the value of their protection to an unwar- like people, who made no- effort to defend themselves \ and who, distant from the source of authority, and contributing no- thing to the support of government, were in a great measure neglected. They be^ gan also to observe, that their new friends were extending their possessions on every side, and conscious of their wealth and increasing numbers, did not so assiduous- ly cultivate the good- will of their faithful allies as formerly. These nations, savage s we may imagine them, were as well skilled in the arts of negociation as the most polite Europeans. They waged per- petual war with each other about their hunting-grounds^ each tribe laying claim to some vast wild territory .(Jestined for that purpose, and divided from other districts by boundaries which we should consider as merely ideal, but which they perfectly understood. Yet these were not so distinctly defined as to preclude all dispute j and a caaual encroachment H ,5 on t)n this imaginary deer-park was a suf- ficient ground of hostility ; and this, not for the value of the few deer or bears which might be killed, but that they thought their national honour violated by such an aggression. The system of re- venge, which subsisted with equal force among them all, admitted of no sincere conciliation till the aggrieved party had obtained at least an equal number of scalps and prisoners for those that they had lost. This bloody reckoning was not easily ad- justed. After a short and hollow truce, the remaining balance on either side af- forded a pretext for new hostilities, and time to solicit new alliances ; for whicli last purpose much art and much persua- sive eloquence were employed. But, the grand mystery of Indian politics was the flattery, the stratagem, and address employed in detaching other tribes from the alliance of their enemies. There could ' not be a stronger proof of the restless and turbulent nature of ambition than these artful negotiations, the consequence of per- petual hostility, where one would think there ( 155 ) there was so little ground for quarrel; and that amongst a people who, individually, were by no means quarrelsome or covetous, and seemed in their private transactions with each other ^ impressed with a deep sense of moral rectitude ; who reasoned soundly, reflected deeply, and acted in most cases consequentially. Property there was. none, to afford a pretext for war, except- ing a little possessed by the Mohawks, which they knew so well how to defend, that their boundaries were never violated j " For their awe and their fear was upon all the na~ tions round about." Territory could not be the genuine sub- ject of contention in these thinly peopled forests, where the ocean and the pole were the only limits of their otherwise boundless domain. The consequence at- tached to the authority of chiefs, who, as such, possessed no more property than others, and had not power to command a single vassal for their own personal benefit, was not so considerable as to be the object H oothe and conciliate from the other. This di- gression must not be considered as alto- gether from the purpose. To return to the Indians, whose history has its use in illustrating that of mankind: they now became fully sensible of the importance they derived from the increased wealth and undefended state of the settlement. They discovered too, that they held the balance ( Ifft ) balance between the interior settlements of France and England, which, though still distant from each other, were daily approximating. The Mohawks, though always brave and always faithful, felt a very allowable repugnance to expose the lives of their warriors in defence of those who made no effort to defend themselves ; who were neither protected by the arms of their so- vereign, nor by their own courage. They came down to hold a solemn congress, at which the heads of the Schuyler and Cuyler families assisted; and where it was agreed that, for the present, hostili- ties should be delayed, the hostile nations pacified by concessions and presents, and means adopted to put the settlement into a state of defence against future aggres- sions. On all such occasions, when previously satisfied with regard to the justice of the grounds of quarrel, the Mohawks promis- ed their hearty co-operation. This they were the readier to do, as their young brother Philip (for so they styled Colonel Schuyler) 'Schuyler) offered not only to head such troops as might be raised for this purpose, but to engage his two brothers, who were well acquainted with the whole frontier territory, to serve on the same terms. This was a singular instance of public spirit in a young patriot; who was an en- tire stranger to the profession of arms - y and whose sedate equanimity of character was adverse to every species of rashness or enthusiasm. Meantime the provisions of the above-mentioned treaty could not be carried into effect, till they were rati- fied by the assembly at New York, and approved by the governor. Of this there was little doubt; the difficulty was to raise, and pay the troops. In the interim, while steps were taking to legalize this project, in 17 1 9, the marriage betwixt Col. Schuyler and his cousin took place under the happiest auspices. CHAP*. ( 159 ) CHAP. XVL Account of the three Brothers. Schuyler and his two brothers- all possessed a superior degree of in- tellect, and uncommon external advan- tages: Peter, the only one remaining when J knew the family, was still a comely and dignified looking old gentleman ; and 1 was told his brothers were at least equal to him in this respect. His young- est brother Jeremiah, who was much be- loved for a disposition, frank, cheerful, and generous to excess, had previously married a lady from New York with whom he obtained some fortune: a thing then singular in that country. This lady, whom, in her declining years, I knew very well, was the daughter of a wealthy and distinguished family of French pro- testants. She was lively, sensible, and well informed. Peter, the second, was married to a na- tive ( 160 ) tive of Albany. She died early : but left behind two children, and the reputation of much worth, and great attention to her conjugal and maternal duties. All these relations lived with -each other, and with the new married lady, in habits of the most cordial intimacy and perfect con- fidence. They seemed, indeed, actuated by one spirit : having in all things similar views and similar principles. Looking up to the colonel as the head of the family, whose worth and affluence reflected conse- quence upon them all, they never dreamt of envying either his superior manners, -or his wife's attainments, which they looked upon as a benefit and ornament to the whole. .Soon after their marriage they paid a vi- sit to New York, which they repeated once a year in the earlier period of their mar- riage, on account of their connection in that city, and the pleasing and intelligent society that was always to be met with there, both on account of its being the seat of goverment, and the residence of the commander-in-chief on die continent, who ( 161 ) who was then necessarily invested with considerable power and privileges, and had, as well as the governor for the time being, a petty court assembled round him. At a very early period a better style of manners, greater ease, frankness, and po- lish prevailed at New York, than in any of the neighbouring provinces. There was in particular, a Brigadier- General Hunter, of whom I have heard Mrs. Schuyler talk a great deal, as coinciding with her uncle and husband successively, in their plans either of defence or im- provement. He, I think, was then go- vernor : and was as acceptable to the Schuylers for his colloquial talents and friendly disposition, as estimable for his public spirit, and application to business, in which respects he was not equalled by any of his successors. In his circle the young couple were much distinguished. There were too among those leading families the Livingstons and Renselaers, friends con- nected with them both by blood and attach- ment. There was also another distinguish, ed family to whom they were allied, and with with whom they lived in cordial intimacy , these were the De Lancys, of French de- scent, but, by subsequent intermarriages, blended with the Dutch inhabitants. Of the French protestants there were many then in New York, as will be hereafter explained; but as these conscientious exiles were persons allied in religion to the primitive settlers, and regular and industrious in their habits, they soon mingled with and became a part of that society, which was enlivened by their sprightly manners, and benefited by the useful arts they brought along with them. In this mixed society, which must have had attraction for young people of supe- rior and, in some degree, cultivated intel- lect, this well matched pair took great pleasure ; and here, no doubt, was im- proved that liberality of mind and man- ners which so much distinguished them from the less enlightened inhabitants of their native city They were so much caressed in New York, and found so many charms in the intelligent and com- paratively polished society of which they they made a part that they had at first some thoughts of residing there. These, however, soon gave way to the persua- sions of the old colonel, with whom they principally resided till his death, which happened in 1721, two years after. This union was productive of all that felicity which might be expected to result from entire congeniality not of sentiment only, but of original dispositions, attachments, and modes of living and thinking. He- had been accustomed to consider her, as a child, with tender endearment. .She had been used to look up to him, from infancy, as the model of manly excellence ; and they drew knowledge and virtue from the same fountain, in the mind of that re- spectable parent whom they equally loved and revered. CHAP. { 164 ) HAP. XVIL The House and rural CEconomy of the Plats. Biit's and Insects. . m<; ? ' r *T * >:? kstft#G#3 on' ?d?fu HbM// i HAVE already sketched a general out- line of that pleasant home to which the colonel was now about to bring his beloved. Before I resume my narrative, I shall indulge myself in a still more minute ac- count of the premises, the mode of liv- ing, &c. which will afford a more distinct idea of the country ; all the wealthy and informed people of the settlement living on a smaller scale, pretty much in the same manner. Be it known, however, that the house I had so much delight in recollect- ing, had no pretension to grandeur, and very little to elegance. It was a large brick house of two or rather three stones (for there were excellent attics), besides a sunk story, finished with the exactest neatness. The ( 165 ) The lower floor had two spacious rooms; with large light closets; on the first there were three rooms, and in the upper one four. Through the middle of the house was a very wide passage, with opposite front and back doors, which in summer admitted a stream of air peculiarly grate- ful to the languid senses. It was furnished with chairs and pictures like a summer- parlour. Here the family usually sat in hot weather, when there were no ceremo- nious strangers. Valuable furniture (though perhaps not very well chosen or assorted) was the fa- vourite luxury of these people, and in all the houses I remember, except, those of the brothers, who were every way more liberal, the mirrors, the paintings, the china, but above all, the state-bed, were considered as the family Teraphim, secret- ly worshipped, and only exhibited on very rare occasions. But in Colonel Schuy- ler's family the rooms were merely shut up to keep the flies, which in that coun- try are an absolute nuisance, from spoil- ing ( 166 ) ing the furniture. Another motive was, that they might be pleasantly cool when opened for company. This house had also two appendages common to all those belonging to persons in easy circumstances there. One was a large portico at the door, with a few steps leading up to it, and floored like a room ; it was open at the sides, and had seats all round. Above was either a slight , wooden roof, painted like an awning, or a covering of lattice- work, over which a transplanted wild vine spread its luxuriant leaves and nu- merous clusters. The grapes though small, and rather too acid till sweetened by the frost, had a beautiful appearance. What gave an air of liberty and safety to these rustic porticos, which always produced in my mind a sensation of pleasure that I know not how to define, was the number of little birds domes- ticated there. For their accommodation there was a small shelf built within the portico where they nestled sacred from the t touch of slaves and children, who were ( 167 ) were taught to regard them as the good genii of the place, not to be disturbed with impunity. I do not recollect sparrows there, ex- cept the wood-sparrow. These little birds were of various kinds peculiar to th country ; but the one most frequent and familiar was a pretty little creature, of a bright cinnamon colour, called a wren, though faintly resembling the one to which we give that name, for it is more sprightly, and flies higher. Of these and other small birds, hundreds gave and received protection around this hospitable dwelling. The protection they received consisted merely in the privilege of being let alone. That which they bestowed was of more importance than any inha- bitant of Britain can imagine. In these new countries, where man has scarce as- serted his dominion, life swarms abun- dant on every side ; the insect popula- tion is numerous beyond belief, and the birds that feed on them are in proportion to their abundance. In pro- cess of time, as their sheltering woods are C -la* ,) are cleared, all these recede before their masters, but not until his empire is fully established. Such minute aerial fees are more harassing than the terrible inhabi- tants of the forest, and more difficult to expel. It is only by protecting, and in some sort domesticating, these little wing- ed allies, who attack them in their own element, that the conqueror of the lion and tamer of the elephant can hope to sleep in peace, or eat his meals unpolluted. While breakfasting or drinking tea in the airy portico, which was often the scene of these meals, birds were con- stantly gliding over the table with a but- terfly, grasshopper, or cicada in their bills to feed their young, who were chirping above. These familiar inmates brushed by without ceremony, while the chim- ney swallow, the martin and other hi- rundines in countless numbers darted past in pursuit of this aerial population and the fields resounded with the cease- less chirping of many insects unknown to our more temperate summers. These were now and then mingled with the ani- mated ( 169 ) animated and not unpleasing cry of the tree-frog, a creature of that species, but of a light slender form, almost transpa- rent, and of a lively green ; it is dry to the touch, and has not the dank moisture of its aquatic relations ; in short it is a pretty lively creature, with a singular and cheerful note. This loud and not unpleasing insect-chorus, with the s war ins of gay butterflies in constant motion, enliven scenes to which the prevalence of woods, rising " shade above shade'* on every side, would otherwise give a still and solemn aspect. Several objects, which with us are no small additions to the softened changes and endless charms of rural scenery, it must be con- fessed, are wanting there. No lark wel- comes the sun that rises to gild the dark forest and gleaming lakes of America ; no mellow thrush nor deep toned black- bird warbles through these aweful soli- tudes, or softens the balmy hour of twi- light with " The liquid language of the grows" VOL: i, i Twilight Twilight itself, the mild and shadowy hour, so soothing to every feeling, every pensive mind ; that soft transition from day to night, so dear to peace, so due to meditation, is here scarce known, at least only known to have its shortness regret- ted. No daisy hastens to meet the spring, or embellishes the meads in summer : here no purple heath exhales its whole- some odour, or decks the arid waste with the chastened glow of its waving bells. No bonny broom, such as enliven the narrow vales of Scotland with its gaudy blow nor flow'ring furze with its golden blossoms, defying the cold blasts of early spring, animate their sandy wilds. There the white-blossomed sloe does not fore- run the orchard's bloom, nor the pale primrose shelter its modest head beneath the tangled shrubs. Nature, bountiful yet not profuse, has assigned her various gifts to various climes, in such a manner, that none can claim a decided pre-emin- ence; and every country has peculiar charms, which endear it to the natives beyond any other. I have been tempt- ed ( 171 ) cd by lively recollections into a di- gression rather unwarrantable. To re- turn : At the back of the large house was a smaller and lower one, so joined to it s to make the form of a cross. There one or two lower and smaller rooms below, and the same number above, afforded a refuge to the family during the rigours of winter, when the spacious summer- rooms would have been intolerably cold, and the smoke of prodigious wood-fires would have sullied the elegantly clean furniture. Here, too, was a sunk story, where the kitchen was immediately be- low the eating parlour, and encreased the general warmth of the house. In summer the negroes inhabited slight outer kitchens, in which food was drest for the family. Those who wrought in the fields often had their simple dinner cooked without, and ate it under the shade of a great tree. Oite room, I should have said, in the greater house only, was opened for the reception of company ; all the rest were bed-chambers for their accommoda- i 2 tion; ( 172 ) tion - y the domestic friends of the family occupying neat little bed-rooms in the attics, or in the winter-house. This house contained no drawing-room; that was an unheard-of luxury : the winter rooms had carpets ; the lobby had oil-cloth pain- ted in lozenges, to imitate blue and white marble. The best bed-room was hung with family portraits, some of which were admirably executed; and in the eating-room, which by the bye, was rarely used for that purpose, were some fine scripture paintings ; that which made the greatest impression on my imagina- tion, and seemed to be universally admir- ed, was one of Esau coming to demand the anticipated blessing ; the noble manly figure of the luckless hunter, and the anguish expressed in his comely, though strong featured countenance, I ahall never forget. The house fronted the river, on the brink of which, under shades of elm and sycamore, pan the great road to- wards Saratoga, Stillwatcr, and the nor- thern lakes; a little simple avenue of morella cherry trees, inclosed with a white rail, ( 173 ) rail, led to the road and river, not three ^ u ndred yards distant. Adjoining to this, on the south side, was an inclosure subdivided into three parts, of which the first was a small hay-field, opposite the south end of the house ; the next, not so long, a garden ; and the third, by far the largest, an orchard. These were sur- rounded by simple deal fences. Now let not the genius that presides over pleasure- grounds, nor any of his elegant votaries, revolt with disgust while I mention the unseemly ornaments which were exhi- bited on the stakes to which the deals of these same fences were bound. Truly they consisted of the skeleton heads of horses and cattle, in as great numbers as could be procured, stuck upon the above- said poles. This was not mere ornament either, but a most hospitable arrange- ment for the accommodation of the small familiar birds before described. The jaws are fixed on the pole, and the skull upper- most. The wren, on seeing a skull thus placed, never fails to enter by the ori- fice, which is too small to admit the 1 3 hand hand of an infant, lines the pericranium with small twigs and horse-hair, and there lays her eggs in full security. It is very amusing to see the little creature care- lessly go out and in at this aperture, though you should be standing imme- diately beside it. Not satisfied with pro- viding these singular asylums for their feathered friends, the negroes never fail to make a small round hole in the crown of every old hat they can lay their hands on, and nail it to the end of the kitchen, for the same purpose. You often see in such a one, at once, thirty or forty of these odd little domicils, with the inha- bitants busily going out and in. Besides all these salutary provisions for the domestic comfort of the birds, there was, in clearing the way for their first establishment, a tree always left in the middle of the back yard, for their sole emolument : this tree being purposely pol- larded at Midsummer, when all the branches were full of sap. Wherever there had been a branch, the decay of the inside produced a hole ; and every hole was ( 175 ) was the habitation of a bird. These were of various kinds ; some had a pleasing note, but, on the whole, their songsters are far inferior to ours. I ra- ther dwell on these minutiae, as they not only mark the peculiarities of the country, but convey very truly the image of a. peo- ple not too refined for happiness, which, in the process of elegant luxury, is apt to die of disgust. CHAP. ( 176 ) CHAP. XVIII. Description of Colonel Schuyler's Barn, the Com- mon, and its various Uses. A DJOINING to the orchard was the most spacious barn I ever beheld ; which I shall describe for the benefit of such of my readers as have never seen a building constructed on a plan so comprehensive. This barn, which, as will hereafter ap- pear, answered many beneficial purposes besides those usually allotted for such edi- fices, was of a vast size, at least an hun- dred feet long, and sixty wide. The roof rose to a very great height in the midst, and sloped down till it came within ten feet of the ground, when the walls commenced; which like the whole of this vast fabric, were formed of wood. It was raised three feet from the ground, by beams resting on stone; and on these beams was laid, in the middle of building, a very massive oak floor. Before ( 177 ) Before the door was a large sill, sloping downwards, of the same materials. A breadth of about twelve feet on each side of this capacious building was divided off for cattle ; on one side ran a manger, at the abovementioned distance from the wall, the whole length of the building, with a rack above it ; on the other were stalls for the other cattle, running also the whole length of the- building. The cattle and horses stood with their hinder parts to the wall, and their heads towards the threshing floor. There was a prodi- gious large box or open chest in one side, built up for holding the corn after it was thrashed j and the roof, which was very lofty and spacious, was supported by large cross beams: from one to the other of these was stretched a great num- ber of long poles, so as to form a sort of open loft,, on which the whole rich crop was laid up. The floor of those parts of the barn, which answered, the purposes of a stable and cow-house, was, made of thick slab deals, laid loosely over the supporting; beams. And the mode of I 5 cleaning ( ITS J cleaning those places was by turning the boards, and permitting the dung and litter to fall into the receptacles left open below for the purpose ; thence in spring they were often driven down to the river, the soil, in its original state, not requiring the aid of manure. In the * front of this vast edifice there were prodigious fold- ing-doors, and two others that opened be- hind. Certainly never did cheerful rural toils wear a more exhilarating aspect than while the domestics were lodging the luxuriant harvest in this capacious repository. When speaking of the doors, I should have mentioned that they were made in the gable ends; those in the back equally large to correspond with those in the front; while on each side of the great doors were smaller ones, for the cattle and horses to enter. Whenever the corn or hay was reaped or cut, and ready for carrying home r which in that dry and warm climate happened in a very few days, * By the front is meant the gable end, which con- tains_tbe entrance, a waggon ( 179 ) a waggon loaded with hay, for instance, was driven into the midst of this great barn ; loaded also with numberless large grasshoppers, butterflies, and cicadas, who came along with the hay. From the top of the waggon, this was immediately forked up into the loft of the barn, in the midst of which was an open space left for the purpose ; and then the unloaded waggon drove, in rustic state, out of the great door at the other end. In the mean time every member of the family witnessed, or assisted in this summary process; by which the building and thatching of stacks was at once saved j and the whole crop and cattle were thus compendiously lodged under one roof. The cheerfulness of this animated scene was much heightened by the quick appear^ ance,and vanishing of the swallows ; which twittered among their high-built dwel- lings in the roof. Here, as in every other instance, the safety of these domestic friends was attended to ; and an abode provided for them. In the front of this i 6 barn ( 180 x barn were many holes, like those of a pidgeon-house, for the accommodation of the martin; that being the species to which this kind of home seems most congenial; and, in the inside of the barn, I have counted above fourscore at once. In the winter when the earth w r as bu- ried deep in new-fallen snow, and no path lit for walking in was left, this barn was like a great gallery, well suited for that purpose ; and furnished with pic- tures not unpleasing to a simple and contented mind. As you walked through this long area, looking up, you beheld the abundance of the year treasured above you ; on one side the comely heads of your snorting steeds presented themselves, arranged in seemly order : on the other, your kine displayed their meeker visages, while the perspective, on either, was ter- minated by heifers and fillies no less in- teresting. In the midst your servants exercised the flail ; and even, while they threshed out the straw, distributed it to the expectants on both sides ; while the- (131 ) the " liberal handful'' was occasionally thrown to the many- coloured poultry on the sill. Winter itself never made this abode of life and plenty cold or cheer- less. Here you might walk and view all your subjects, and their means of sup- port, at one glance ; except, indeed, the sheep ; for which a large and commodi- ous building was erected very near the barn ; the roof containing a loft large enough to hold hay sufficient for their winter's food. Colonel Schuyler's barn was by far the largest I have ever seen : but all of them, in that country, were constructed on the same plan, furnished with the same accommodation, and presented the same cheering aspect. The orchard, as I formerly mentioned, was on the south side of the barn ; on the north, a little farther back towards the wood, which formed a dark skreen behind this smil- ing prospect, there was an inclosure, in which the remains of the deceased mem- bers of the family were deposited. A field of C 182 ) of pretty large extent, adjoining to the house on that side, remained uncultivated, and un inclosed \ over it were scattered a few large apple-trees of a peculiar kind : the fruit of which was never appro- priated. This piece of level and produc- tive land, so near the family mansion, arid so adapted to various and useful purposes, was never occupied, but left open as a public benefit. From the known liberality of this mu- nificent family, all Indians, or new set- tlers, on their journey, 'whether they came by land or water, rested here. The military, in passing, always formed a camp on this common ; and here the Indian wigwams were often planted ; here all manner of garden-stuff, fruit, and milk, were plentifully distributed to wanderers of all descriptions. Every summer, for many years there was an encampment, either of regular or pro- vincial troops, on this common ; and often, when the troops proceeded north- ward, a little colony of helpless women aud i. ( 183 > and children, belonging to them, was left in a great measure dependant on the com- passion of these worthy patriarchs ; for such the brothers might be justly called. CHAP. ( 184 ) CHAP. XIX. Military Preparations. Disinterested Conduct, the surest Road to Popularity. Fidelity of the Mo- hawks. HPHE fir^t year of the colonel's marriage was spent chiefly in New York, and in visits to the friends of his bride, and other relations. The following years they passed at home, surrounded daily by his brothers, with their families, and other relatives, with whom they maintained the most affectionate intercourse. The colo- nel, however, (as I have called him by an- ticipation * had his mind engaged at this, time, by public duties of the most urgent nature. He was a member of the colonial assembly; and, by a kind of hereditary right, was obliged to support that charac- ter of patriotism, courage, and public wis- dom, which had so eminently distinguished his father. The father of Mrs. Schuyler, too. ( 185 ) too, had been long mayor of Albany ; at that time an office of great importance ; as including, within itself, the entire civil power exercised over the whole settle- ment as well as the town, and having a sort of patriarchial authority attached to it ; for these people, though little ac- quainted with coercion, and by no means inclined to submit to it, had a profound reverence, as is generally the case in the infancy of society, for the families of their first leaders ; whom they had looked up to merely as knowing them to possess superior worth, talent, and enterprise. In a society, as yet uncorrupted, the value of this rich inheritance can only be di- minished by degradation of character in the representative of a family thus self- ennobled ; especially if he be disinterest- ed 5 this, though apparently a negative quality, being the one of all others which combined with the higher powers of mind most engages affection in private, and esteem in public life. This is a shield that blunts the shafts which envy ne- ver fails to level at the prosperous, even (186 ) , r even in old establishments ; where, from the very nature of things, a thousand obstructions rise in the upward path of merit ; and a thousand temptations appear to mislead it from its direct road ; and 'where the rays of opinion are refracted by so many prejudices of contending in- terests and factions. Still, if any charm can be found to fix that fleeting phantom popularity, this is it : It would be very honourable to human nature, if this could be attributed to the pure love of virtue; but, alas ! multitudes are not made up of the' wise, or of the virtuous. Yet the very selfishness of our nature inclines us to love and trust those who are not like- ly to desire any benefit from us, in re- turn for those they confer. Other vices may be, if not social, in some degree gregarious : but even the avaricious hate avarice in all but themselves. Thus, inheriting unstained integrity, unbounded popularity, a cool determined spirit, and ample possessions, no man had faiier pretensions to unlimited sway, in the sphere in which he moved, than the colonel 5 ( 187 ) colonel ; but of this no man could be less desirous. He was too wise, and too hap- py to solicit authority ; and yet too public- spirited, and too generous to decline it, when any good was to be done or any evil resisted, from which no private bene- fit resulted to himself. Young as his wife was, and much as she valued the blessing of their union, and the pleasure of his society, she shew- ed a spirit worthy of a Roman matron, in willingly risking all her happiness, even in that early period of her marriage, con- senting to his assuming a military com- mand, and leading forth the provincial troops against the common enemy ; who had now become more boldly dangerous than ever. Not content with secretly stimulating to acts of violence, the Indian tribes, who were their allies, and enemies to the Mohawks, the French Canadians, in violation of existing treaties, began to make incursions on the slightest pretexts. Jt was no common warfare in which the colonel was about to engage : but the du- ties of entering on vigorous measures, for ( 188 ) for the defence of the country, became not only obvious but urgent. No other person but he had influence enough to produce any coherence among the people of that district, or any determination, with their own arms and at their own cost, to attack the common enemy. As formerly observed, this had hitherto been trusted to the five confederate Mohawk nations; who, though still faithful to their old friends, had too much sagacity and observation, and indeed too strong a sense of native rec- titude, to persuade their young warriors to go on venturing their lives in defence of thoso, who, from their increased power and numbers, were able to defend them- selves with the aid of their allies. Add to this, that their possessions were on all sides daily extending \ and that they, the Albanians, were carrying their trade for furs, &c. into the deepest recesses of the forests, and towards these great lakes which the Canadians were accustomed to consider as the boundaries of their do- minions ; and 'where they had Indians whom they were at great pains to at- tach ( 189 ) tach to themselves, and to inspire against us and our allies. Colonel Schuyler's father had held the same rank in a provincial corps for- merly : but in his time, there was a pro- found peace in the district he inhabited : though, from his resolute temper and knowledge of public business, and of the different Indian languages, he was selected to head a regiment raised in the Jerseys and the adjacent bounds, for the defence of the back frontiers of Pensyl- vania, New England, &c. Colonel Philip Schuyler was the first who raised a corps in the interior of the province of New York ; this was not only done by his per- sonal influence, but occasioned him a con- siderable expence, though the regiment was paid by the province, which also fur- nished arms and military stores ; their service being, like that of all provincials, limited to the summer half-year. The governor and chief commander came up to Albany to view and approve the preparations making for this interior war, and to meet the congress of Indian sachems ( 190 ) sachems ; who on that occasion, renew- ed their solemn league with their brother the great king. Colonel Schuyler, being then the person they most looked up to and confided in, was their proxy on this oc- casion in ratifying an engagement to which they ever adhered with singular fidelity. And mutual presents brightened the chain of amity ; to use their own figura- tive language. The common and the barn, at the Flats, were fully occupied, and the hos- pitable mansion, as was usual on all public occasions, overflowed. There the general, his aid-de-camps, the sachems and the principal officers of the colonel's regiment, were received ; and those of the next class, who could not find room there, were accommodated by Peter and Jere- miah. On the common was an Indian encampment ; and the barn and orchard were full of the provincials. All these last brought as usual their own food : but were supplied by this liberal family with every production of the garden, dai- ry, and orchard. While the colonel's judgement (, 191 ) judgement was exercised in the necessary regulations for this untried warfare, Mrs. Schuyler, by the calm fortitude she dis- played in this trying exigence, by the good sense and good breeding with which she accommodated her numerous and various guests, and by those judicious attentions to family concerns, which, producing or- der and regularity through every depart- ment without visible bustle and anxiety, enable the mistress of a family to add grace and ease to hospitality, shewed her- self worthy of her distinguished lot. C H A P. CHAP. XX. Account of a refractory Warrior, and of the Spirit which still pervaded the New England Provinces. these preparations were going on, the general * was making every effort of the neighbourhood to urge those who had promised assistance, to come forward with their allotted quotas. On the other side of the river, not very far from the Flats, lived a person whom I shall not name ; though his con- duct was so peculiar and characteristic of the times, that his anti-heroism is on that sole account worth mentioning. This person lived in great security and abun- dance, in a place like an earthly Para- dise, and having had considerable wealth left to him scarcely knew an ungra- tified wish ; the simple and domestic * -Shirley. habits of his life, had formed no desires beyond it, unless indeed it were the desire of be- ing thought a brave man, which seemed his greatest ambition; he was strong, ro- bust, and an excellent marksman ; talked loud, looked fierce, and always expressed the utmost scorn and detestation of cow- ardice. The colonel applied to him, that his name, and the names of such adherents as he could bring, might be set down in the list of those who were to bring their quota, by a given time, for the general defence ; with the request he complied. When the rendezvous came on, this talking war- rior had .changed his mind, and absolutely refused to appear ; the general sent for him, and warmly expostulated on his breach of promise, the bad example, and the disarrangement of plan which it oc- casioned : the culprit spoke in a high tone ft saying, very truly, " that the gene- . < 4 ral was possessed of no legal means of " coercion ; that every one went or staid, " as they chose ; and that his change of " opinion on that subject rendered him UT to return to the superior moral and military character of the New York populace. It was in the first place owing to a well regulated piety, less concerned about forms than essentials : Next, to an influx of other than the original settlers, which tended to render the ge- neral system of opinion more liberal and tolerant. The French protestants, driven from their native land by intolerant bigotry, had lived at home excluded alike from pub - lie employments and fashionable society. Deprived of so many resources that were open to their fellow-subjects, and forced to seek comfort in piety and concord for many privations, self-command and fru- gality had been in a manner forced upon them j consequently they were not so K 4 vain { 200 ) vain nor so volatile as to disgust their new associates $ while their cheerful tempers* accommodating manners, and patience under adversity, were very prepossessing. These additional inhabitants, being such as had suffered real and extreme hardships for conscience-sake from absolute tyranny and the most cruel intolerance, rejoiced in the free exercise of a pure and ration- al religion, and in the protection of mild and equitable laws, as the first of human blessings ; which privation had so far taught them to value, that they thought no exertion too great to preserve them* I should have formerly mentioned, that, besides the French refugees already spo* ken of, during the earliest period of the establishment of the British sovereignty in this part of the continent, a great number of the protestants, whom the fury of war and persecution on religious accounts had driven from the Palatinate, (during the successful and desolating period of the wars carried on against that un- happy country by Lewis the Four- teenth,) had found refuge here. The subdued ( 201 ) subdued and contented spirit, the simple and primitive manners, and frugal, in- dustrious habits of these genuine sufferers for conscience-sake, made them an acqui- sition to any society which received them, and a most suitable leaven among the inhabitants of this province ; who, devoted to the pursuits of agriculture and the In- dian trade, which encouraged a wild ro- mantic spirit of adventure, little relished those mechanical employments > or that petty yet necessary traffic in shops, &c. to which a part of every regulated society must needs devote their attention, These civic toils were left to those patient and industrious exiles, while the friendly in- tercourse with the original natives had strongly tinctured the first colonists with many of their habits and modes of think- ing. Like them, they delighted in hunt- ing, that image of war, which so gene- rally, where it is the prevalent amuse- ment, forms the body to athletic force and patient endurance,andthe mind to dar- ing intrepidity. The timorous deer or the feeble hare were not alone the objects of K 5 their ( 202 ) their pursuit ; nor could they in such an impenetrable country attempt to rival the fox in speed or subtlety. When they kept their " few sheep in the wilderness," the she*bear, jealous for her young, and the wolf, furious for prey, were to be encoun- tered in their defence. From these al- lies, too, many who lived much among them had learnt that fearless adherence to truth, which exalts the mind to the noblest kind of resolution. The dangers to which they were exposed, of meeting wandering individuals, or parties of hos* tile Indians, while traversing the woods in their sporting or commercial adventures, and the necessity that sometimes occurred of defending their families by their own personal prowess, from the stolen irrup- tions of detached parties of those usually called the French Indians, had also given their minds a warlike bent ; and as a boy was not uncommonly trusted at nine or ten years of age with a light fowling- piece, which he soon learned to use with great dexterity, few countries could produce such dexterous marksmen, or persons { 203 ) persons so well qualified for conquering those natural obstacles, of thick woods and swamps, which would at once baffle the most determined European. Not only were they strong of limb, swift of foot, and excellent marksmen the hatchet was as familiar to them as the musket; and an amateur, who had never cut wood but for his diversion, could hew down a tree with a celerity that would astonish and abash a professed wood- cut- ter in this country ; in short, when means r arguments could' be used powerful enough to collect a people so uncon- trouled and so uncontroulable, and; when- headed by a leader whom they loved and trusted, so much as they did Colonel Schuyler,, a well-armed body of New York provincials had nothing to dread but an ague or an ambuscade, to both of which they were much, exposed on the banks of the lakes, and amidk the swampy forests they had to pene.race in pursuit of an enemy; of whom they might say with the Grecian hero, that " they wanted but daylight to conquer * 6 him. " him*" The first essay in arms of those provincials, under the auspices of their brave and generous leader, succeeded be* yond their hopes. This is all I can recol- lect of it. Of its destination I only know that it was directed against some of those establishments which the French began to make within the British boundaries. The expedition terminated only with the season. The provincials brought home Canadian prisoners, who were kept on their parole in the houses of the three brothers, and became afterwards their friends ; and the Five Nations brought home Indian prisoners, (most of whom they adopted,) and scalps enough to strike awe into the adverse nations, who were for a year or two afterwards pretty quiet. CHAP, ( 205 ) CHAP. XXII. A Child still-born. Adoption of Children common in the Province. Madame's Fish to New Tork. TV/IKS. SCHUYLER had contributed all in her power to forward this expedition ; but was probably hurt, either by the fa- tigue of receiving so many friends, or the anxiety produced by parting with them under such circumstances ; for soon after the colonel's departure she was delivered of a dead child, which event was followed by an alarming illness; but she wished the colonel to be kept igno- rant of it, that he might give his undi- vided attention to the duties in which he was engaged. Providence, which doubtless had singled out this benevo- lent pair to be the parents of many who had no natural claim upon their affection, did not indulge them with any succeeding prospects of a family of their own. That privation, not a fre- quent one in the colony, did not chill the { 206 ) the minds or narrow the hearts of people, who, from this circumstance, found them- selves more at liberty to extend their be- neficence, and enlarge that circle which embraced the objects of their love and care. This indeed w r as not singular dur- ing that reign of natural feeling which preceded the prevalence of artificial modes in this primitive district. The love of offspring is certainly one of the strongest desires that the uncorrupted mind forms to itself in a state of comparative inno- cence. Affecting indifference on this sub- ject is the surest proof of a disposition ei- ther callous, or led by extreme vanity to pretend insensibility to the best feelings of nature. To a tie so exquisitely tender, the pledge and bond of connubial union ; to that bud of promised felicity, which al- ways cheers with the fragrance of hope the noon-day of toil or care, and often sup- ports with the rich cordial of filial love and watchful "duty the evening of our decline, what mind can be indifferent ! No wonder the joys of paternity should be highly ( 207 ) highly relished where they were so richly flavoured ; where parents knew not what it was to find a rebel or a rival in a child; first, because they set the example of simplicity, of moderation, and of seeking their highest joys in domestic life ; next, because they quietly expected and calm- ly welcomed the evening of life; and did not, by an absurd desire of being young too long, inspire their offspring with a premature ambition to occupy their place. What sacrifices have I not seen made to filial piety ' How many respectable (though not young) maidens, who, without pre- tending a dislike to marriage, have re- jected men whom their hearts approved, because they would not forsake, during her lifetime, a widowed mother, whose sole comfort they were ! For such children, who, that hopes to grow old, would not wish ? A conside- ration which the more polished manners of Europe teach us to banish as far as possible from our minds. We have learn- ed to check this natural sentiment, by finding other objects for those faculties of our ( 208 ) minds, which nature intended to bless and benefit creatures born to love us, and to enlarge our affections by exciting them. If this stream, which so naturally inclines to flow downwards, happened to be check- ed in its course for want of the usual channel, these adepts in the science of happiness immediately formed a new one, and liked their canal as well as a river, because it was of their own making. To speak without a metaphor, whoever want- ed a child adopted one ; love produced love, and the grafted scion very often proved an ornament and defence to the supporting stock. But then the scion was generally artless and grateful. This is a part of the manners of my old friends which I always remember with delight ; more particularly as it was the invariable, custom to select the child of a friend who had a numerous family. Trie very ani- mals are not devoid of that mixture of affection and sagacity, which suggests a mode of supplying this great desideratum. Next to that prince of cats, the famous cat of Whittington, I would place the cat re- corded by Dr. White in his curious natural history 3 ( 209 ) history, who, when deprived of her young, sought a parcel of deserted leverets to, suckle and to fondle. What an example ! The following year produced a suspen- sion of hostilities between the Provinces and the Canadians. The colonel went to New York to attend his duty, being again chosen a member of the Colonial Assem- bly. Mrs. Schuyler accompanied him ; and being improved both in mind and manners since her marriage, which, by giving her a more important part to act, had called forth her powers, she became the centre of a circle by no means inelegant or uninformed ; for society was there more various and more polished than in any other part of the continent, both from the mixture of settlers, formerly de- scribed, and from its being situated in a province most frequently the seat of war, and consequently forming the head-quar- ters of the army, which, in point of the birth and education of the candidates for promotion, was on a very different footing from what it has been since. It was then a much narrower range, and the selection more ( 210 ) more attended to. Unless a man, by singu- lar powers or talent, fought his way from the inferior rank, here was hardly an in- stance of a person getting even a subaltern's commission whose birth was not at least genteel, and who had not interest and alli- ances. There were not so many lucrative places under government. The wide field of adventure since opened in the East was scarcely known ; a subaltern's pay was more adequate to the maintenance of a gentleman ; and the noblest and most re- spected families had no other way of pro- viding for such younger brothers, as were not bred to any learned profession, but by throwing them into the army. As to mo- rals, this did not perhaps much mend the matter. These officers might in some in- stances be thoughtless, and even profligate, but they were seldom ignorant or low bred ; and that rare character called a finished gentleman, was not unfrequently to be found among the higher ranks of them, who had added experience, reading, and reflection to their original stock of ta- lents and attainments. CHAP. ( 211 ) CHAP. XXIII. Colonel Schuyler's partiality to the military chil- dren successively adopted. Indian character falsely- charged with idleness. TT so happened that a succession of offi- cers, of the description mentioned in the preceding chapter, were to be ordered upon the service which I have been de- tailing ; and whether in New York or at home, they always attached themselves particularly to this family, who, to the attractions of good breeding and easy in- telligent conversation, added the power* which they pre-eminently possessed, of smoothing the way for their necessary in- tercourse with the independent and self- righted settlers, apd of instructing them in many things essential to promote the suc- cess of the pursuits in which they were about to engage. It was one of aunt Schuy- ler's many singular merits, that, after act- ing for a time a distinguished part in this compara- comparatively refined society, where few were so much admired and esteemed, she could return to the homely good sense and primitive manners of her fellow citi- zens at Albany, free from fastidiousness and disgust. Few indeed, without study or design, ever better understood the art of being happy, and making others so. Be- ing gay is another sort of thing ; gaiety, as the word is understood in society, is too often assumed, artificial, and produced by such an effort, that, in the midst of laughter, " the heart is indeed sad." Very different are the smiles that occasionally illume the placid countenance of cheerful tranquillity. They are the emanations of a heart at rest ; in the enjoyment of that sunshine of the breast, which is set for ever to the restless votaries of mere amuse- ment. According to the laudable custom of the country they took home a child whose mother had died in giving her birth, and whose father was a relation of the colo- nel's. This child's name was either Schuy- ler orCuyler, I do not exactly remember which J ( 213 ) which ; but I remember her many years after as Mrs. Vander Poolen ; when, as a comely contented looking matron, she used to pay her annual visit to her be- loved benefactress, and send her ample presents of such rural dainties as her abode afforded. I have often heard her warm in her praises ; saying how useful, how modest, and how affectionate she had been ; and exulting in her comfortable set- tlement, and the plain worth, which made her a blessing to her family. From this time to her death, above fifty years afterwards, her house was never without one, but much oftener two children, whom this exemplary pair educated with parental solicitude and kindness. And whenever one of their protegees married out of the family, which was generally at a very early age, she carried with her a female slave, born and baptised in the house, and brought up with a thorough knowledge of her duty, and an habi- tual attachment to her mistress ; besides the usual present of the furniture of a chamber, and a piece of plate, such as a tea. tea-pot, tankard, or some such i useful matter, which was more or less valuable as the protegee was more or less beloved : for though aunt Schuyler had great sa- tisfaction from the characters and con- duct of all her adopted, there were, no doubt, degrees of merit among them, of which she was better able to judge than if she had been their actual mother. There was now an interval of peace, which gave these philanthropists more leisure to do good in their own way. They held a three-fold band of kindness in their hands, by which they led to the desirable purpose of mutual advantage j three very discordant elements, which were daily becoming more difficult to mingle and to rule; and which yet were the more dependent on each other for mutual comfort, from the very causes which tended to disunite them. t In the first place, the Indians began to assume that unfavourable and uncertain aspect, which it is the fate of man to wear in the first steps of his progress from that state ( 215 ) state, where he is at once warlike and social, having few wants, and being able, without constant labour or division of ranks, to supply them $ where there is no distinction, save that attained by supe- rior strength of mind and body ; and where there are no laws, but those dictated by good sense, aided by experience, and enforced by affection. This state of life may be truly called the reign of the affections : the love of kindred and of country, ruling paramount, unrivalled by other passions, all others being made subservient to these. Vanity, indeed, was in some degree flatter- ed ; for people wore ornaments and were at no small pains to make them. Pride existed ; but was differently modified from what we see it ; every man was proud of the prowess and atchievements of his tribe collectively; of his personal virtues he was not proud, because we excel but by com- parison ; and he rarely saw instances of the opposite vices in his own nation, and looked on others with unqualified con- tempt. When ( 216 1 When any public benefit was to be obtained or any public danger to be averted, their mutual efforts were all bent to one end; and no one knew what it was to withhold his utmost aid, nor in- deed could in that stage of society have any motive for doing so. Hence, no mind being contracted by selfish cares, the community were but as one large family, who enjoyed or suffered together. "We are accustomed to talk, in parrot phrase, of indolent savages ; and to be sure in warm climates, and where the state of man is truly savage, that is to say, unsocial, void of virtue and void of con i forts, he is certainly an indolent being; but that individual, in a cold climate, who has tasted the sweets of social life, who knows the wants that arise from it, who provides for his children in their helpless state, and with whom taste and inge- nuity are so much improved, that his per- son is not only clothed with warm and seemly apparel, but decorated with nume- rous and not inelegant ornaments which from the scarcity and simplicity of his tools, he ( 217 ) he has no ready nor easy mode of produc- ing ; when he has not only found out all these wants, which he has no means of supplying but by his individual strength, dexterity, and ingenuity, industry must be added, ere they can all be regularly gratified. Very active and industrious, in fact, the Indians were in their original state ; and when we take it into consider- ation, that, beside these various occupa- tions, together with their long journeys, wars, and constant huntings and fishing, their leisure was occupied not only by athletic but studious games, at which they played for days together with un- heard-of eagerness and perseverance, it will appear they had very little of that lounging- time, for which we are so apt to give them credit. Or if a chief occa- sionally, after fatigue of which we can form no adequate idea, lay silent in the shade, those frisking Frenchmen who have given us most details concerning them, were too restless themselves to subdue their skipping spirits to the recollection, that a Mohawk had no study nor arm-chair VOL.I, i, -wherein ( 218 ) wherein to muse and cogitate, and that his schemes of patriotism, his plans of war, and his eloquent speeches, were all like the meditations of Jacques, formed " un- u der the greenwood tree." Neither could any man lounge on his sofa, while half a dozen others were employed in shear- ing the sheep, preparing the wool, weav- ing and making his coat, or in planting the flax for his future linen, and flaying the ox for his future shoes ; were he to do all this himself, he would have little leisure for study or repose. And all this and more the Indian did under other names a.nd forms. So that idleness, with its gloomy followers ennui and suicide, were unknown among this truly active people : yet that there is a higher state of society cannot be denied ; nor can it be denied that the intermediate state is a painful and enfeebling one. Man, in a state of nature, is taught by his more civilized brethren a thou- sand new wants before he learns to supply one. Thence barter takes place; which ( 219 ) which in the first stage of progression is universally fatal to the liberty, the spi- rit, and the comforts of an uncivilized people. In the east, where the cradle of our in- fant nature was appointed, the clime was genial, its productions abundant, and its winters only sufficient to consume the surplus, and give a welcome variety to the seasons. There man was either a shepherd or a hunter, as his disposition led y and that perhaps in the same fami- ly. The meek spirit of Jacob delighted in tending his father's flocks ; while the more daring and adventurous Esau traced the wilds of mount Seir, in pursuit both of the fiercer animals who waged war upon the fold, and the more timorous who administered to the luxury of the table. The progress of civilization was here gradual and gentle; and the elegant arts seem to have gone hand in hand with the useful ones, We read' of bracelets and ear-rings sent as tokens of love, and images highly valued and coveted ; while even agriculture seemed in its infancy. i 2 CHAP. CHAP. XXIV. Progress of Civilization in Europe- Northern Na- tions instructed in the Arts of Life by those they had subdued. "POPULATION extending to the milder re- gions of Europe, brought civilization along with it ; so that it is only among the savages (as we call our ancestors) of the North, that we can trace the inter- mediate state I have spoken of. Among them, one regular gradation seems to have taken place ; they were first hunters, and then warriors. As they advanced in their knowledge of the arts of life, and acquired a little property, as much of pastoral pursuits as their rigorous climate would allow, without the aid of regular agriculture, mingled with their wander- ing habits. But, except in a few partial instances, from hunters they became con- querors : the warlike habits acquired from that mode of life raising their minds ( 2-21 } minds above patient industry, and teach- ing them to despise the softer arts that embellish society. In fine, their usual progress to civilization was through the medium of conquest. The poet says, " With noble scorn the first fam'd Cato viewed, Rome learning arts from Greece, which she subdued." The surly censor might have spared his scorn, for doubtless science, and the arts of peace, were by far the most valuable acquisitions resulting from their conquest of that polished and ingenious peopled But when the savage hunters of the north became too numerous to subsist OQ their deer and fish, and too warlike to dread the conflict with troops more re- gularly armed, they rushed down, like a cataract, on their enfeebled and voluptu- ous neighbours ; destroyed the monu- ments of art, and seemed^ for a time to change the very face of nature. Yet dreadful as were the devastations of this flood, let forth by divine vengeance to punish and to renovate, it had its use, in sweeping away the hoarded mass of cor- L 3 ruption { 222 } ruption with which the dregs of man- kind had polluted the earth. In was an awful, but a needful process ; which, in some form or other, is always renewed when human degeneracy has reached its ultimatum. The destruction of these feeble beings, who, lost, to every manly and virtuous sentiment, crawl about the rich property which they have not sense to use worthily, or spirit to defend man- fully, may be compared to the effort nature makes to rid herself of the noxi- ous brood of wasps and slugs cherished by successive mild winters. A dreadful frost comes ^ man suffers, and complains ; his subject animals suffer more, and all his works are for a time suspended : but this salutary infliction purifies the air, meliorates the soil, and destroys millions of lurking enemies, which would other- wise have consumed the productions of the earth, and deformed the face of na- ture. In these barbarous irruptions, the monuments of art, statues, pictures, tem- ples, and palaces, seem to be most la. mented. From age to age the virtuosi of ( 223 ) of every country have re-echoed to each other their feeble plaints over the lost , works of art ; as if that had been the heaviest sorrow in the general wreck; and as if the powers that produced them had ceased to exist. It is over the de- faced image of the divine author, and not merely the mutilated resemblance of his creatures, that the wise and virtuous should lament ! It is the necessity of these dreadful inflictions for purifying a polluted world, that ought to affect the mind with salutary horrour. We are told that in Rome there were as many statues as men : had all these lamented statues been preserved, would the world be rmich wiser or happier ? a sufficient num- ber remain as models to future statuaries, and memorials of departed art and ge- nius. Wealth, directed by taste and li- berality, may be much better employed in calling forth, by due encouragement, that genius which doubtless exists among our cotempotaries, than in paying exor- bitantly the vender of fragments. L 4i Mind, ( 224 ) " Mind, mind alone, bear witness earth and Heaven ! The living fountains in itself contains Of beauteous and sublime." And what has mind achieved, that, in a favourable conjuncture, it may not again aspire to? The lost arts are ever the theme of classical lamentation; but the great and real evil was the loss of the vir- tues which protected them ; of courage, fortitude, honour, and patriotism: in short of the whole manly character. This must be allowed, after the dreadful tempest of subversion was over, to have been in some degree restored in the days of chivalry : and it is equally certain that the victors learnt from the vanquished many of the arts that support life, and all those which embellish it. When their manners were softened by the aid of a mild and charita- ble religion, this blended people assumed that undefined power, derived from su-> perior valour and superior wisdom, which Jaas so far exalted Europe over all the re- gions gions of the earth. Thus, where a bold and warlike people subdue a voluptuous and effeminate one, the result is, in due time, an improvement of national charac- ter. The conquerors learn from the con- quered the arts which grace and polish life, while valour and fortitude, energy and simplicity are generated in the blended man, resulting from the mixture. In climes and circumstances similar to those of the primeval nations in the other hemis^ phere, the case has been very different. There, too, the hunter, by the same grada- tion, became a warrior ; but first allured by the friendship which sought his protec- tion ; then repelled by the art that co- veted and encroached on his territories^ and lastly by the avarice which taught him new wants, and then took an un- due advantage of them ; he neitherwished for our superfluities, nor envied our mode of life ; neither did our encroachments much disturb him, since he receded into his trackless coverts as we approached from the coast. But though they scorn- ed our refinements ; and though our go* L 5 vernment ( 226 ) vernment, and all the enlightened minds amongst us, dealt candidly and generously with all such as were not set on by our enemies to injure us, yet the blight of Eu- ropean vices, the mere consequence of private greediness and fraud, proved fatal to our very friends. As I formerly ob- served, the nature of the climate did not admit of the warrior's passing through the medium of a shepherd's life to the toils of agriculture. The climate though ex- tremely warm in summer, was so severe in winter, and that winter was so long ? that it required no little labour to secure the food for the animals which were to be maintained; and no small expence in that country to procure the implements neces-. sary for the purposes of agriculture. In other countries, when a poor man has not wherewithal to begin farming, he serves another; and the reward of his toil enables him to. set up for himself. No such resource was open to the Indians, had they even inclined to adopt our modes. No Indian ever served another, or received, .assistance from any one except his own, family. ( 227 ) family. 'Tis inconceivable, too, what a different kind of exertion of strength it requires to cultivate the ground, and to endure the fatigues of the chace, long journeys, &c. To all that induces us to labour, they were indifferent. When a governor of New York was describing to an Indian the advantages that some one would derive from such and such pos- sessions; u Why," said he, with evident surprise, u should any man desire to pos- " sess more than he uses !" More appeared to his untutored sense an incumbrance. I have already observed how much hap- pier they considered their manner of liv- ing than ours \ yet their intercourse with us daily diminished their independence, their happiness, and even their numbers. In the new world this fatality has never failed to follow the introduction of Eu- ropean settlers ; who, instead of civilizing and improving, slowly consume and waste ; where they do not, like the Spaniards, ab- solutely destroy and exterminate the na- tives. The very nature of even our most friendly mode of dealing with them was L 6 pernicious ( 228 ) pernicious to their moral welfare ; which , though too late, they well understood, and could as well explain. Untutored man, in beginning to depart from that life of exigencies, in which the superior acuteness of his senses, his fleetness, and dexterity in the chace, are his chief dependance, loses so much of all this be- fore he can become accustomed to, or qualified for, our mode of procuring food by patient labour, that nothing can be con- ceived more enfeebled and forlorn than the state of the few detached families re- maining of vanished tribes, who, having lost their energy, and even the wish to live in their own manner, were slowly and reluctantly beginning to adopt ours. It was like that suspension of life which takes place in the chrysalis of insects, while in their progress towards a new state of being* Alas! the indolence with which we reproach them, was merely the consequence of their commercial intercourse with us . and the fatal passion for strong liquors which resulted from it. As the fabled enchanter, by waving his magic wand, chains- ( 229 ) chains up at once the faculties of his oppo- nents, and renders strength and courage useless ; so the most wretched and sordid trader, possessed of this master-key to the appetites and passions of these hard- fated people, could disarm those he dealt with of all their resources, and render them dependent, nay dependent on those they scorned and hated. The process was simple : first, the power of sending, by mimic thunder, an unseen death to a distant foe, which filled the softer inha- bitants of the southern regions with so much terror, was here merely an object of desire and emulation ; and so eagerly did they adopt the use of fire-arms, that they soon became less expert in using their own missile weapons. They could still throw the tomahawk with such an unerring aim, that, though it went cir- cling through the air towards its object it never failed to reach it. But the ar- rows, on which they had formerly so much depended, were now considered merely as the weapons of boys, and only directed against birds. Thus ( 250 ) Thus was one strong link forged in the chain of dependence; .next, liquor became a necessary, and its fatal effects who can detail ! But to make it still clearer, I have mentioned the passion for dress, in which all the pride and vanity of this people was centered. In former days this had the best effect, being a stimulus to industry. The provision requisite for making a splendid appearance at the win- ter meetings for hunting and the national congress, occupied the leisure hours of the whole summer. The beaver skins of the last year's hunting were to be accu- rately dressed, and sewed together, to form that mantle which was as much va- lued, and as necessary to their conse- quence, as the pelisse of sables is to that of an Eastern bashaw. A deer skin, or that of a bear, or beaver, had its stated price, and purchased from those unable to hunt, or past the age of severe toil, the wampum belt, the ornamented pouch, and embroidered sandals and other em- bellishments of their showy and fanciful costume. The boldest and most expert hunter ( 231 ) hunter had most of these commodities to spare, and was therefore most splendidly arrayed. If he had a rival, it was he whose dexterous ingenuity in fabricating the materials of which his own dress was composed, enabled him to vie with the hero of the chace. Hence superior elegance in dress was not, as with us. the distinction of the luxurious and effeminate, but the privi- lege and reward of superior courage and and industry ; and became an object worthy of competition* Thus employed, and thus adorned, the sachem or his friends found little time to indulge the indolence we have been accustomed to impute to them. Another arduous task remains uncalcu- lated: before they became dependent on us for the means of destruction, much time was consumed in forming their wea- pons ; in the construction of which no less patience and ingenuity were exercised than in that of their ornaments : and those too were highly embellished, and made with great labour out of flints, peb bles, ( 232 ) bles, and shells. But all this system of em- ployment was soon overturned by their late acquaintance with the insidious arts of Europe ; to the use of whose manu- factures they were insensibly drawn in, first by their passion for fire-arms, and fi- nally, by their fatal appetite for liquor. To make this more clear, I shall insert a dia- logue, such as, if not literally, at least in substance, might pass betwixt an Indian warrior and a trader. CHAP. ( 233 ) CHA'P. XXV. Means by which the Independence of the Indians was first diminished. Indian. " T>ROTHER, I am come to trade with you : but I forewarn you to be more moderate in your demands than formerly.'* Trader. " Why, brother* are not my goods of equal value with those you had last year ? " Indian. " Perhaps they may ; but mine are more valuable because more scarce. The great spirit who has withheld from you strength and ability to provide food and clothing for yourselves, has given you cunning and art to make guns and provide scaura * ; and by speaking smooth words to simple men, when they have swallowed madness, you have by little and little purchased their hunting grounds, * Scaura is the Indian name for rum and ( 234 ) and made them corn lands. Thus the beavers grow more scarce, and deer fly father back ; yet after 1 have reserved skins for my mantle, and the clothing of my wife, I will exchange the rest." Trader. " Be it so, brother ; T came not to wrong you, or take your furs against your will. It is true the beavers are few, and you go further for them. Come, brother, let us deal fair first, and smoke friendly afterwards. Your last gun cost fifty beaver-skins ; you shall have this for forty ; and you shall give marten and racoon skins in the same proportion for powder and shot.'' Indian, " Well, brother, that is equal. Now for two silver bracelets, with long pendent ear-rings of the same, such as you sold to Cardarani in the sturgeon * month last year. How much will you f, J demand?" Trader. " The skins of two deer * The Indians appropriate a month to catch fish or animals, which is at that time the predominant object of pursuit; as the bear month, the beaver month, &c. for ( 235 ) for the bracelets, and those of two fawns the ear-rings. Indian. " That is a great deal; but wampum grows scarce, and silver never rusts. Here are the skins. Trader. " Do you buy any more? Here are knives, hatchets, and beads of all colours." Indian. " I will have a knife and a hatchet ; but must not take more : the rest of the skins will be little enough to clothe the women and children, and buy wampum. Your beads are of no value, no warrior who has slain a wolf will wear them *." Trader. " Here are many things good for you, which you have not skins to buy ; here is a looking-glass, and here is a brass kettle, in which your woman may * Indians have a great contempt, comparatively, for the beads we send ; they consider them as only fit for those plebeians who cannot by their exertions win any better. They estimate them compared with their own wampum, as we do pearls compared with paste. boil ( 236 ) boil her maize, her beans, and above all her maple sugar. Here are silver broaches, and here are pistols for the youths." Indian. " The skins I can spare will not purchase them. Trader. " Your will determines, bro- ther ; but next year you will want no- thing but powder and shot, having alrea- dy purchased your gun and ornaments. If you will purchase from me a blanket to wrap round you, a shirt and blue stroud for under garments to yourself and your woman ; and the same for leggings, this will pass the time, and save you the great trouble of dressing the skins, mak- ing the thread, &c. for your clothing : which will give you more fishing and shooting time, in the sturgeon and bear months.'* Indian. " But the custom of my fa- thers !" Trader. cc You will not break the custom of your fathers, by being thus clad for a single year. They did not re- fuse those things which were never offer- ed to them." Indian. ( 237 ) Indian. " For this year, brother, I will exchange my skins; in the next I shall provide apparel more befitting a warrior. One pack alone I will reserve to dress for a future occasion. The sum- mer must not find a warrior idle." The terms being adjusted and the bar- gain concluded, the trader thus shews his gratitude for liberal dealing, Trader. " Corlaer has forbid bring- ing scaura to steal away the wisdom of the warriors ; but we white men are weak and cold ; we bring kegs for our- selves, lest death arise from the swamps. We will not sell scaura ; but you shall taste some of ours in return for the veni- son with which you have feasted us." Indian. " Brother, we will drink mo- derately/' A bottle was then given to the warrior by way of present ; which he was advis- ed to keep long; but found it irresistible. He soon returned with the reserved pack of skins, earnestly urging the trader to give him beads, silver, broaches, and above ( 233 ) above all scaur a, to their full amount, This, with much affected reluctance at parting with the private stock, was at last yielded. The warriors now, after giving loose for a while to frantic mirth, began the warwhoop, made the woods resound with infuriate howlings ; and having ex- hausted their dear-bought draught, pro- bably determined, in contempt of that probity which at all other times they ri- gidly observed, to plunder the instrument of their pernicious gratification, He, well aware of the consequences, took care to remove himself and his goods to some other place ; and a renewal of the same scene ensued. Where, all this time, were the women, whose gentle counsels might have prevented these excesses ? Alas ! un- restrained by that delicacy which is cer- tainly one of the best fruits of refi'ne- ment, they shared in them, and sunk sooner under therri. A long and deep sleep ge- nerally succeeded ; from which they awoke in a state of dejection and chagrin, such as no Indian had ever experienced under any other circumstances, They felt as Mil- ton ton describes Adam and Eve to have done after their transgression. Exhausted, and forlorn, and stung with the consci- ousness of error and dependence, they had neither the means nor the desire of exercising their wonted summer occupa- tions with spirit. Vacancy produced lan- guor, and languor made them again wish for the potion which gave temporary cheerfulness*. They carried their fish to the next fort or habitation to barter for rum. This brought on days of fren- zy, succeeded by torpor. When again roused by want to exertion, they saw the season passing without the usual provi sion ; and by an effort of persevering in- dustry, tried to make up for past negli- gence; and then worn out by exertion, sunk into supirie indolence, till the ap- proach of winter called them to hunt the bear; and the arrival of that, (their busy season,) urged on their distant excursions in pursuit of deer. Then they resumed * From Peter Schuykr, brother to the colonel, I have heard many such details. their ( 240 ) their wonted character, and became what they used to be ; but conscious that ac- quired tastes and wants, which they had lost the habit of supplying themselves, would throw them again on the traders for clothing, &c. they were themselves out-straining every sinew to procure enough of peltry to answer their purpose, and to gratify their newly acquired appe- tites. Thus the energy, both of their characters and constitutions, was gradual- ly undermined ; and their numbers as ef- fectually diminished, as if they had been wasted by war. The small-pox was also so fatal to them, that whole tribes on the upper- lakes have been entirely extinguished by it. Those people being in the habit of using all possible means of closing the pores of the skin, by painting andamoint ing themselves with bears' grease, to de- fend them against the extremity of cold, to which their manner of life exposed them j and not being habitually subject to any cutaneous disease, the smallpox rarely ( 241 ) rarely rises upon them; from which it may be understood how little chance they had of recovering. All this I heard Aunt Schuyler relate, whose observations and reflections I merely detail. { 242 ) CHAP. XXVI. JicJteb \i.->^air I #r. Peculiai Attractions of the Indian Mode of Life. Account of a Settler who resided some Time among them. TN this wild liberty, in these habits of probity, mutual confidence, and con- stant variety, there was an undefinable charm, which, while it preserved their primitive manners, wrought in every one who dwelt for any time amongst them. I have often heard my friend speak of an old man, who, being carried away in his infancy by some hostile tribe who had slain his parents, was rescued very soon after by a tribe of friendly Indians : they from motives of humanity, resolved to bring him up among themselves, that he might in their phrase, " learn to bend " the bow, and speak truth.* 1 When it was discovered some years after that he was still living, his relations reclaimed him; and the community wished him to return ( 243 ) return and inherit his father's lands, now become more considerable. The Indians were unwilling to part with their protege ; and he was still more reluctant to return. This was considered as a bad precedent ; the early settlers having found it convenient in several things regarding hunting, food, &c. to assimi- late in some degree with the Indians ; and the young men occasionally, at that early period, joining their hunting and fishing parties. It was considered as a matter of serious import to reclaim this young alien - y lest others should be lost to the community and to their religion by following his example. With diffi- culty they forced him home ; where they never could have detained him, had they not carefully and gradually inculcated into his mind the truths of Christianity. To those instructions even his Indian predilections taught him to listen ; for it was the religion of his fathers, and venerable to him as such : still, however, his dislike of our manners was never entirely conquered, nor was his attach- M 2 ment. ( 24* ) ment to his foster-fathers ever much di minished. He was possessed of a very sound intellect, and used to declaim with the most vehement eloquence against our crafty and insidious encroachments on our old friends. His abhorrence of the petty falsehoods to which custoni has too well reconciled us, and of those little ar- tifices which we all occasionally practise, rose to a height fully equal to that felt by Gulliver. Swift and this other misan- thrope, though they lived at the same time, could not have had any intercourse, else one might have supposed the invec- tives which he has put into the mouth of Gulliver, were borrowed from this demi-savage : whose contempt and hatred of selfishness, meanness, and duplicity, were expressed in language worthy of the dean. Insomuch, that years after I had heard of this singular character, I thought, on reading Gulliver's asperities after returning from Hoynhnhmland, that I had met my old friend again. One really does meet with characters that fic- tion would seem too bold in pourtraying. This ( 245 ) This original had an aversion to liquor, which amounted to abhorrence; being embittered by his regret at the mischiefs resulting from it to his old friends, and his rage at the traders for administering the means of depravity. He never could bear any seasoning to his food ; and despised luxury in all its forms. For all the growing evils I have been describing, there was only one remedy, which the sagacity of my friend and her other self soon discovered ; and which their humanity as well as principle led them to try all possible means of adminis- tering. It was the pure light and ge- nial influence of Christianity alone that could cheer and ameliorate the state of these people, now, from a concurrence of circumstances scarcely to be avoided in the nature of things, deprived of the independ- ence habitual to their own way of life with- out acquiring in its room any of those comforts which sweeten ours. By gradu- ally and gently unfolding to them the views of a happy futurity, and the means by which depraved humanity was restored to M 3 a participation ( 246 ) * ' * - IL <4 ; I a participation of that blessing ; pride, re- venge, and the indulgence of every excess of passion or appetite being restrained by the precepts of a religion ever powerful where it is sincere ; their spirits would be brought down from the fierce pride which despises improvement, to adopt such of our modes as would enable them to in- corporate in time with our society, and procure for themselves a comfortable sub- sistence, in a country no longer adapted to supply the wants of the houseless ran- gers of the forest. The narrow policy of many looked coldly on this benevolent project. Hunters supplied the means of commerce, and war- riors those of defence; and it was ques- tionable whether a Christian Indian would hunt or fight as well as formerly. This* however, had no power with those in whom Christianity was any thing more than a name. There were already many Christian Indians ; and it was very encou- raging, that not one, once converted, had ever forsaken the strict profession of the religion, or ever, in a single instance, aban- , , doned ( 2*7 .; doned himself to the excesses so perni- cious to the unconverted brethren. Ne- ver was the true spirit of Christianity more exemplified than in those comparatively few> converts; who about this time amounted to no more than two hun- dred. But the tender care and example of the Sclmylers co-operating with the incessant labours of a judicious and truly apostolic missionary, some years after greatly augmented their numbers in dif- ferent parts of 'the continent: and to this day, the memory of David Brainard, the faithful labourer alluded to, is held in veneration in those districts that were blessed with his ministry. He did not confine it to one people or province, but travelled from place to place, to dissemi- nate the gospel to new converts^ and confirm and cherish the truth already planted. The first foundation of that church had, however, as I formerly men- tioned, been laid long ago: and the ex- amples of piety, probity, and benevo- lence set by the worthies at the Flats M4 and and a few more, were a very necessary comment on the doctrines to which their assent was desired. The great stumbling-block which the missionaries had to encounter with the Indians, (who, as- far as their knowledge went, argued with great acuteness and logical precision,) was the small influence which our religion seemed to have over many of its professors. " Why," said they, " if the book of truth, that " shews the way to happiness, and bids " all men do justice, and love one " another, is given both to Corlaer and " Onnonthio*, does it not direct them %< in the same way ? Why does On* " nonthio worship, and Corlaer neglect, ' : the mother of the blessed one ? And " why do the missionaries blame those " for worshipping things made with " hands, while the priests tell the * Corlaer was the title given by them to the go- vernor of Ntw York : and was figuratively used for the governed, and Onnonthio for those of Canada in the same manner. ' praying ( 249 ) ** the praying nation *, that Corlaer and ** his people have forsaken the worship of " his forefathers: besides, how can peo- " pie, who believe that God and good <( spirits view and take an interest in all vhu'G"' O-' ': banks, that they had surrounded our castles, and that it was impossible for us to get out of them. Yes, Yonnondio, surely you hare dreamt so ; and the cu- riosity of seeing so great a wonder has brought you so far. Now you are undeceived, since I and the war- riors here present are come to assure you, that the Hurons, Onondagoes, and Mohawks are yet alive. I. thank you in their name for bringing back into their country the calumet, which your predecessor received from their hands, it was happy for you that you left , under ground that murdering hatchet, which lias been so often dyed with the blood of the French. Hoar, Onnondio, I do not sleep ; I have my eyes open ; and the sun which enlightens me discovers to me a great captain, at the head of his soldiers, who speaks as if he were dreaming. He says that he only came to tfie lake to smoke out of the great calumet with the Hve Nations ; but Connaratego says that he sees the corf- trary ; that it was to knock them on the head if sick- ness had not weakened the arms of the French. 1 sec Onnonthio raving in a camp of sick men, whose lives the great spirit has saved by inflicting this sickness upon them. Hear, Onnonthioi our women had taken their .bo )' Twice in the year the new converts came to Albany to partake of the sacrament, be- fore a place of worship was erected for them- their clubs ; our children and old men had carried their bows and arrows into the heart of your camp, if our warriors had not disarmed them, and kept them back, when your messenger came to our castles. It is done, and I have said it. Hear Yonnondio, we plun- dered none of the French, but those who carried guns, powder, and ball, to the wolf and elk tribes, because those arms might have cost us our lives. Herein we follow the example of the Jesuits, who stave all the kegs of rum brought to the castles where they are, lest the drunken Indians should knock them on the head. Our warriors have not beavers enough to pay for all those arms that they have taken ; and our old men are not afraid of the war. This belt preserves my words. We carried the English into our lakes, to trade with the wolf and elk tribes, as the praying In- dians brought the French to our castles, to carry on a trade, which the English say is theirs. We are born free.. We neither depend upon Onnonthio nor Cor- laer ; we may go where we please. If your allies be your slaves, use them as such ; command them to re, <:eive no other but your people. This belt preserves my words. We knocked the Connecticut Indians and their confederates on the head because they had cut down the trees of peace, which were the limits of our country. They haye hunted beavers on our lands, contrary ( 256 ) themselves. They always spent the night, or oftener two nights, before their joining in this holy rite, at the Flats ; which was their contrary to the customs of all Indians, for they hav left none alive. They have killed both male and fe- male* They brought the Sathanas into our country to take part with them, after they had formed ill de- s^gns against us ; we have done less than they mo rited. " Hear, once more, the words of the Five Nations. They say that when they buried the hatchet at Car- daragni, (in the presence of your predecessor,) in the middle of th fort *, they planted the tree of peace in- the same place, to be there carefully preserved ; tha^ instead of an abode for soldiers, that fort might be a rendezvous for merchants ; that in place of arms and ammunition, only peltry and goods should enter there. " Hear, Yonnondio, take care for the future that o great number of soldiers as appear there do not choke the tree of peace, planted in so small a fort. It will be a great loss, after having so easily taken, root, if you should stop its growth, and prevent its covering your country and ours with its branches. 1 assure you, in. the name of the Five Nations, that our warriors shall dance to the calumet of peace under it$ ; leaves, and shall remain quiet on their mats ; and that shall never dig up the hntchet till Corlaer or Oa * Detroit. ( 257 ) their general rendezvous from different quarters. There they were cordially re- ceived by the three brothers, who always met together at this time to have a con- nonthio either jointly or separately, attack the coun- try, which the great spirit haih given to our ancestors. This belt preserves my words, and this other the autho- rity which the Five Nations have given me. >f Then, Garangula, addressing himself to Mons. de Maine, who understood his language, and interpreted, spoke thus ; " Take, courage, friend, yu have spirits ; speak, explain my words, omit nothing. Tell all that your brethren and friends say to Onnonthio, your governor, by the mouth of Garangula, who loves you, and desires you to accept of this present of bea- ver, and take part with me in my feast, to which I invite you. This present of beaver is sent to ^on- condio on the part of the Five Nations." Mons, Barre returned to his fort much enraged at what he had heard; Garangula feasted the French officers, and then went home ; and Mons. Barre set out on his way towards Montreal ; and a soon as the general, with the few soldiers who remained in health, had embarked, the militia made their way to their own habitations without order or discipline. Thus a chargeable and fatiguing expedition, meant to strike the terror of the French name into the stubborn hearts of the Five Nations, ended in a scold between . French general and an old Indian. Coldcn's History tf tht l : i-vs Nations, page (38. ference ( 258 . ) ference with them on subjects the most important to their present and future welfare. These devout Indians seemed all impressed with the same feelings, and moved by the same spirit. They were received with affectionate cordiality, and accommodated in a manner quite conform- able to their habits, in the passage, porch, and offices - 9 and so deeply im- pressed were they with a sense of the awful duty that brought them there, and of the rights of friendship and hospitali- ty ; and at this period so much were they become acquainted with our customs, that though two hundred communicants, followed by many of their children, were used to assemble on those occasions, the smallest instance of riot or improprie- ty was not known amongst them. They brought little presents of game, or of their curious handicrafts, and were libe- rally and kindly entertained by their good brother Philip, as they familiarly called him. In the evening they all went apart to secret prayer ; and in the morn- ing, by dawn of day, they assembled be- , fore ( 259 ) fore the portico ; and their entertainers, '. who rose early to enjoy, unobserved, a view of their social devotion, beheld them with their mantles drawn over their heads, prostrate on the earth ; offering praises and fervent supplications to their Maker. After some time spent in this manner, they arose, and seated in a circle on the ground, with their heads veiled as formerly, they sang an hymn, which it was delightful to hear, from the strength, richness, and sweet accord of their un- commonly fine voices ; which every one that ever heard this sacred chorus, how- ever indifferent to the purport of it, praised as incomparable. The voices of the female Indians are particularly sweet and powerful. I have often heard my friend dwell with singular pleasure on the recollection of those scenes, and of the conversations she and the colonel used to hold with the Indians, whom she de- scribed as possessed of very superior pow- ers of understanding ; and in their re- ligious views and conversations, uniting the ardour of proselytes with the firm de- cision ( 260 ) cision and inflexible steadiness of their na- tional character. It was on the return of those new Christians to the Flats, after they had thus solemnly sealed their pro- fession, that these wise regulations for preserving peace and good- will between the settlers (now become confident and care- less from their numbers) and the Indians, jealous with reason of their ancient rites, were concluded. ( 261 ) CHAP. XXVIII. Management of the Mohawks by the influence of the Christian Indians. yHE influence these converts had ob- tained over the minds of those most venerated for wisdom among their coun- trymen, was the medium through which this patriot family, in some degree, con- troled the opinions of that community at large, and kept them faithful to the British interests. Every two or three years there was a congress held, by deputies from New York, who generally spoke to the Indians by an interpreter ; went through the form of delivering presents from their brother the great king, redressing petty grievances, smoking the calumet of peace, and delivering belts, the pledges of ami- ty. But these -were mere public forms ; the real terms of this often renewed ami- ty having been prevously digested by those who far better understood the re- latiofls ( 262 ) lations subsisting between the contracting parties, and the causes most likely to in- terrupt their union. Colonel Schuyler, though always ready to serve his country in exigencies, did not like to take upon himself any permanent responsibility, as a superintendant of Indian affairs, since it might have diminished that private in- fluence which arose from the general ve- neration for his character and from a conviction that the concern he took was ' i. : . voluntary and impartial ; neither did he choose to sacrifice that domestic peace and leisure, which he so well knew how to turn to the best account, being con- vinced that by his example and influence as a private gentleman, he had it in his power to do much good of a peculiar kind, which was incompatible with the weight and bustle of public affairs. These too would have interrupted that hospitali- ty which, as they managed it, was produc- tive of so many beneficial effects. I have already shewn how by prudent address and kind conciliation, this patriotic pair soothed and attached the Indians to the British { 263 ) British interest. As the country grew more populous, and property more abundant and more secure, the face of society in this inland region began to change They whose quiet and orderly demeanour, de- votion, and integrity did not much require the enforcement of laws, began to think themselves above them. To a deputed authority, the source of which lay be- yond the Atlantic, they paid little defer- ence ; and from their neighbours of New Hampshire and Connecticut, who border- ed on their frontiers, and served with them in the colonial wars, they had little to learn of loyalty or submission. These people they held in great contempt, both as soldiers and statesmen ; and yet, from their frequent intercourse with those who talked of law and politics in their peculiar uncouth dialect incessantly, they insensi- bly adopted many of their notions. There is a certain point of stable happi- ness at which our imperfect nature mere- ly seems to arrive ; for the very materi- als of which it is formed contain the seeds of its destruction. This was ihe case here : ( 264 ) here: that peaceful and desirable equality of conditions, from which so many comforts resulted, in process of time occasioned an aversion to superiors, to whom they were not accustomed, and an exaggerated jea- lousy of the power which was exercised for their own safety and comfort. Their manners unsophisticated, and their morals in a great measure uncorrupted, led them to regard with unjustifiable scorn and aversion those strangers who brought with them the manners of more polished, though less pure, communities. Proud of their haughty bluntness, which daily increased with their wealth and security, they began to consider respectful and po- lite behaviour as a degree of servility and duplicity ; hence while they revolted at the power exercised over themselves, and very reluctantly made the exertions necessary for their own protection, they shewed every inclination to usurp the territories of their Indian allies; and to use to the very utmost the power they had acquired over them, by supply- their wants. At ( 265 ) At the liberal table of Aunt Schuyler, there were always intelligence, just notions, and good breeding to be met with, both among the owners and their guests, many had their prejudices softened down, their minds enlarged, and their manners im- proved. There they met British officers of rank and merit, and persons in autho- rity ; and learnt that the former were not artificial coxcombs, nor the latter petty tyrants ; as they would otherwise be very apt to imagine. Here they were accus- tomed to find, on the one hand, authori- ty respected, and on the other to see the natural rights of man vindicated, and the utmost abhorrence expressed of all the so- phistry by which the credulous were mis- led by the crafty, to have a code of mo- rality for their treatment of heathens, different from that which directed them in their dealing with Christians. Here a selection of the best and worthiest, of the different characters and classes we have been describing, met ; and were taught, not only to tolerate, but to es- VOL. i. N teem ( 266 ) teem each other : and it required tlie calm, temperate wisdom, and easy versa- tile manners of my friend to bring this about. It is when they are called to act in a new scene, and among people different from any they had known or imagined, that the folly of the wise and the weakness of the strong become dis- cernible. Many officers justly esteemed, possess- ed of capacity, learning, and much knowledge, both of the usages of the world, and the art of war, from the want of certain habitudes, which nothing but experience can teach, were disqualified for the warfare of the woods ; and, from a secret contempt with which they re- garded the blunt simplicity and plain ap- pearance of the settlers, were not amen- able to their advice on these points. They were not aware how much they were to depend upon them for the means of car- rying on ! their operations ; and by rude x)r negligent treatment so disgusted them, that the former withheld the horses, oxen, waggons, &c. which they were to be ( 26-7 ) be paid for, merely to shew their inde- pendence ; well knowing that the dread- ed and detested military power, even if coercive measures were resorted to, would have no chance for redress in their courts ; and even the civil authority were cautious of doing any thing so unpopular as to decide in favour of the military. Thus, till properly instructed, those be* wildered strangers were apt to do the thing of all others that annihilates a fee- ble authority ; threaten where they could not strike, and forfeit respect where they could not enforce obedience : a failure of this kind clogged and enfeebled all their measures ; for without the hearty co-ope- ration of the inhabitants in furnishing pre-requisites, nothing could go on in a country without roads, or public vehi- cles, for the conveyance of their warlike stores. Another rock they were apt to run upon was, a neglect of the Indians, whom they neither sufficiently feared as enemies, nor valued as friends : till taught to do so by maturer judgements. Of u 2 this ( 268 ) his, Braddock's defeat was an instance \ he was brave, experienced, and versed in all military science; his confidence in which occasioned the destruction of him- self and his army. He considered those counsels that warned him, how little ma- noeuvres or numbers would avail " in the close prison of innumerous boughs," as the result of feeble caution ; and marched his army to certam ruin, in the most brave and scientific manner imaginable. Upon certain occasions there is no knowledge so valuable as that of our own ignorance. At the Flats, the self-righted boor learn- ed civilization and subordination; the high bred and high spirited field officer gentleness, accommodation, and respect for unpolished worth and untaught va- lour. There, too, the shrewd and deeply reflecting Indian learnt to respect ihe Bri- tish character, and to confide in that of the settlers ; by seeing the best models of both, acting candidly towards each other, and generously to himself. My friend was most particularly calcu- lated ( 269 > lated to be the coadjutor of her excellent consort, in thus subduing the spirits of different classes of people, strongly dispos- ed to entertain a repulsive dislike of each other ; and by leading them to the chas- tened enjoyment of the same social plea- sures, under the auspices of those, whose good will they were all equally convinced of. She contrived to smooth down as- perities, and assimilate those various cha- racters, in a manner that could not fee done by any other means. Accustomed from childhood, both from the general state of society, and the en- larged minds of her particular associates, to take liberal views of every thing, and to look forward on all occasions to con- sequences, she steadily followed her wise and benevolent purposes, without being attracted by petty gratifications, or repelled by petty disgusts. Neither influenced by female vanity, nor female fastidiousness, she might very truly say of popularity, as Falstaff says of Worcester's rebellion, " it lay in her way and she found it :" N 3 for ( 270 ) for no one ever took less pains to ob- tain it; and if the weight of solid useful- ness and beneficence had not, as it never fails to do in the long run, forced appro- bation, her mode of conducting herself, though it might greatly endear her to her particular associates, was not concili- ating to common minds. The fact' was, that, though her benevolence extended through the whole circle of those to whom she was known, she had too many objects of importance in view to squander time upon imbecility and insig- nificance. Neither could she find leisure for the routine of ordinary vi- sits, nor inclination for the insipidity of' ordinary chit-chat, If people of the description here alluded to could foiward any plan ad- vantageous to the public, or to any of those persons in whom sl^e was particularly interested, she would treat them occasionally with much civility : for she had all the power of superior intellect without the pride of it ; but could ( 271 ) could not submit to a perpetual sacrifice to forms and trifles. This, in her, was not only justifiable, but laudable ; yet k is not mentioned as an example, because a case can very rarely occur, where the benefit resulting to others, from making one's own path, and forsaking the ordi- nary road, can be so essential j few ever can have a sphere of action so peculiar or so important as her's ; and very few in- deed have so sound a judgment to di- rect them in chusing, or so much for- titude to support them in pursuing, a way of their own. In ordinary matters, where neither re- ligion nor morality, is concerned, it is much safer to trust to the common sense of mankind in general, than to our own particular fancy. Singularity of conduct or opinion is so often the result of va- nity or affection, that whoever ventures upon it ought to be a person whose ex- ample is looked up to by others. A per- son too great to follow, ought be great enough to lead. But though her con* N 4 versation ( 272 ) versation was reserved for those she pre- ferred, her advice, compassion, and good offices were always given where most needed. CHAP. ( 273 ) CHAP. XXIX. MaJame's adopted Children. Anecdote of Sister Susan. passed away in this manner, va- ried only by the extension of pro- tection and education, to a succession of nephews snd nieces of the Colonel or Mrs. Schuyler. These they did not take from mere compassion, as all their relations were in easy circumstances ; but influenced by various considera- tions, such as, in some cases, the death .of the mother of the children, or per- haps the father 5 in others, where their nieces or nephews married very early, and lived in the houses of their respective parents, while their young family increas- ed before they had a settled iio'me ; or in instances where, from the remote situations in which the parents lived, they could not so easily educate them. Indeed the difficulty of getting a suitable education N 5 for < 274 ) for children, whose parents were ambiti- ous for their improvement, was great j and a family so well regulated as hers, and frequented by such society, was in itself an academy, both for the best mo- rals and manners. When people have children born to them, they must submit to the ordinary lot of humanity : and if they have not the happiness of meeting with many good qualities to cultivate and rejoice over, there is nothing left for them but to exert themselves to the utmost, to reform and ameliorate what will ad- mit of improvement. They must care- fully weed and rear ; if the soil produce a crop both feeble and redundant, affection will blind them to many defects ; impe- rious duty will stimulate them, and hope, soothing, however deceitful, will support them. But when people have the pri- vilege, as in this case, of chusing a child, they are fairly entitled to select the most promising. This selection, I understood ahvays to have been left to Aunt Schuy- ler ; and it appeared, b) the event, to have been generally a happy one. Fifteen, either either nephews or nieces, or the- children of such, who had been under her care^ all lived to grow up and go out into the world ; and all acted their parts so as to do credit to the instruction they had received, and the example they looked up to; Besides these, they had many whom they brought for two or three years to their house to reside ; either because the family they came from was at the time crowded with younger children, or be- cause they were at a time of life when a year or two spent in such society, as was there assembled, might not only form their manners, but give a- bias ta their future character. About- the year 1730, they brought home a nephew of the colonel's, whose father, having a large family, and, to the best of my recollection, having lost his wife, entirely gave over the boy to the protection of this relation. This boy was his uncle's god-son, and call- ed Philip after him. He was a great- favourite in the family ; for, though ap- parently thoughtless . and giddy,, he had N 6 a very ( 276 ) a very good temper, and quick parts j and was upon the whole an ingenious, lively, and amusing child. He was a very great favourite, and continued to be so, in some measure, when he grew up. There were other children in the house at the same time, whose names and re- lationship to my friends I do not remem- ber; but none staid so long, or were so much talked of as this. There certainly never were people who received so much company, made so respectable a figure in life, and always kept so large a family about them, with so little tumult, or bus- tle, or indeed at so moderate an expence. What their income was I cannot say, but am sure it could not have been what we should think adequate to the good they did, and the hospitality and beneficence which they practised: for the rents of lands were then of so lit- tle value, that, though they possessed a considerable estate in another part of the country, only very moderate profits could result from it ; b^t, indeed, from the simplicity of dress, &c. it was easier ; though ( 277 ) though in that respect, too, they preserved a kind of dignity, and went beyond others in the materials, though not the form of their apparel. Yet their principal ex* pence was a most plentiful and well or- dered table, quite in the English style; which was a kind of innovation : but so many strangers frequented the houses of the three brothers that it was ne- cessary for them to accommodate them- selves to the habits of their guests. Peter being in his youth an exten- sive trader, had spent much time in Ca- nada, among the noblesse there; and had served in the continental levies. He had a fine commanding figure, and quite the air and address of a gentleman, and was, when I knew him, an old man. Intelligent and pleasing in a very high degree, Jeremiah had too much fami- liar kindness to be looked up to like his brother. Yet he also had a very good understanding, great frankness and affability, and was described by all who knew him, as the very soul of cordial friendship and warm benevolence. He married ( 278 ) married a polished and well educated person, whose parents (French protest- ants) were people of the first fashion in New York, and had given with her a good fortune, a thing very unusual in that country. They used, in the early years of their marriage, to pay a visit every winter to their connexions at New York, who passed part of every summer with them. This connexion, as well as that with the Flats, gave an air of polish, and a tincture of elegance to this family beyond others ; and there were few so gay and social. This cheerfulness w r as supported by a large family, fourteen, I think, of very promising children. These; however, inheriting from their mother's family a delicate constitution, died one after another as they came to maturity : one only, a daughter, lived to be married ; but died after having had one son and one daughter. I saw the mother of this large fami- ly, after out-living her own children, and a still greater number of brothers and sisters. ( 279 ) sisters, who had all settled in life, pros- perous and flourishing, when she mar- ried; I saw her a helpless bed-ridden invalid; without any remaining tie, but a sordid grasping son-in-law, and two grand- children, brought up at a distance from her. With her, too, I was a great favourite^ because I listened with interest to her de- tails of early happiness, and subsequent woes and privations; all of which she described to me with great animation, and the most pathetic eloquence. How much a patient listener, who has sympa- thy and interest to bestow on a tale of woe, will hear ! and how affecting is the respect and compassion even of an artless child, to a heart that has felt the bitter- ness of neglect, and known what it was to pine in solitary sadness ! .Many a bleak day have I walked a mile to visit this blasted tree, which the storm of calamity had stripped of every leaf! and surely in the house of sorrow the heart is made better, From ( 280 ) From this chronicle of past times, I de- rived much information respecting our good aunt ; such as she would not have given me herself. The kindness of this generous sister-in-law was indeed the only light that shone on the declining days of sister Susan, as she was wont affec- tionately so call her. What a sad narra- tive would the detail of this poor wo- man's sorrows afford! which, however, she did not relate in a querulous manner; for her soul was subdued by affliction, and she did not " mourn as those that " have no hope." One instance of self- accusation I must record. She used to describe the family she left as being no less happy, united, and highly prosperous, than that into which she came: if, in- deed, she could be said to leave it, going as she did for some months every year to her mother's house, whose darling she w^s, and who, being only fifteen years older than herself, was more like an elder sister, united by fond affec- tion. She. ( 281 ) She went to New York to lie-in, at her mother's house, of her four or five first children; her mother at the same time having children as young as hers : and thus caressed at home by a fond husband, and received with exultation by the tenderest parents; young, gay, and fortunate, her removals were only variations of felicity; but, gratified in every wish, she knew not what sorroMr was, nor how to receive the unwelcome stranger, when it arrived. At length she went down to her father's, as usual, to lie-in of her fourth child, which died when it was eight days old. She then screamed with ugony, and told her mo- ther, who tried by pious counsel to al- leviate her grief, that she was the most miserable of human beings ; for that no one was capable of loving their child so well as she did her's, and she could not think by what sin she had provoked this affliction: finally, she clasped the dead infant to her bosom, and was not, without the utmost difficulty, persuad^ ed to part with it; while her frantic grief ( 282 ) grief outraged all decorum. After this, said she, " I have seen my thirteen grown-up children, and my dear and ex- cellent husband, all carried out of this house to the grave: 1 have lost the worthiest and .most affectionate parents, brothers and . sisters, such -as few ever had; and however my heart might be pierced with sorrow, it was still more deeply pierced with a conviction of my own past impiety and ingratitude; and under all this affliction I wept silently and alone ; and my outcry or lamentation was never heard by mortal." What a lesson was this ? This once much loved and much re- spected woman have I seen sitting in her bed, where she had been long con- fined, neglected by all those \yhom she had known in her better days, except- ing aunt Schuyler, who unwieldy and unfit for visiting as she was, came out two or three times in the year to see her, and constantly sent her kindly tokens of remembrance, Had .she been more careful to preserve her independence, and had ( 283 ) had she accommodated herself more to the plain manners of the people among whom she lived, she might in her ad- versity have met with more attention ; but too conscious of her attainments, lively, regardless, and perhaps vain, and confi- dent of being surrounded and admired by a band of kinsfolk, she was at no pains to conciliate others ; she had, too, some expensive habits ; which, when the tide of prosperity ebbed, could meet with little indulgence among a people who never entertained an idea of living beyond their circumstances. Thus, even among those unpolished people, one might learn how severe- ly the insolence of prosperity can be avenged on us, even by those we have despised and slighted ; and who perhaps were very much our inferiors in every respect : though both humanity and good sense should prevent our mortifying them, by shewing ourselves sensible of that cir- cumstance. 1751. This year was a fatal one to the families ( 284 ) families of the three brothers. Jeremiah, impatient of the uneasiness caused by a wen upon his neck, submitted to under- go an operation ; which, being unskilfully performed, ended fatally, to the unspeak- able grief of his brothers and of Aunt, who was particularly attached to him, and often dwelt on the recollection of his singularly compassionate disposition, the generous openness of his temper, and peculiar warmth of his affections. He indeed, was " taken away from the evil to come " for of his large family, one after the other went off, in consequence of the weakness of their lungs, which withstood none of the ordinary diseases of small-pox, meazles, &c. : in a few years, there was not one remaining. These were melancholy inroads on the peace of her, who might truly be said, to " watch and weep, and pray for all:'* for nothing could exceed our good aunt's care and tenderness for this feeble fa- mily ; who seemed flowers which merely bloomed to wither in their prime; for they ( 285 ) they were, as is often the case with those who inherit such disorders, beautiful, with quickness of comprehension, and abilities beyond their age. CHAP. ( 286* ) CHAP. XXX. Death of young Philip Schuyler. Account of his Family, and of die Society at the Flats. A NOTHER very heavy sorrow followed the death of Jeremiah: Peter, being the eldest brother, his son, as I formerly mentioned, was considered and educated as heir to the colonel. It was Peter's house that stood next to the colonel's; their dwellings being arranged according to their ages, the youth was not in the least estranged from his own family (who were half a mile off) by his resi- dence in his uncle's, and was pecu- liarly endeared to all the families, (who regarded him as the future head of their house,) by his gentle manners and ex- cellent qualities With all these personal advantages, which distinguished that comely race, and which give grace and at- traction to the unfolding blossoms of vir- tue, at an early age he was sent to a kind of ( 287 ) of college, then established in New Jer- sey ; and he was there instructed, as far as in that place he could be. He soon formed an attachment to a lady still younger than himself, but so well brought up, and so respectably connected, that his friends were greatly pleased with the marriage, early as it was, and his father, with the highest satisfaction, received the young couple into the house. There they were the delight and ornament of the fa- mily, and lived amongst them as a com- mon blessing. The first year of their mar- riage a daughter was born to them, whom they named Cornelia ; and the next, a son, whom they called Peter. The following year, which was the same that deprived them of their brother Jeremiah, proved fatal to a great many children and young people, in consequence of an endemial disease, which every now and then used to appear in the country, and made great havoc. It was calJed the purple or spotted fever, and was probably of the putrid kind: be that as it may, it proved fatal to this interesting young couple* Peter, who had ( 288 ) had lost his wife but a short time before, was entirely overwhelmed by this stroke: a hardness of hearing, which had been gradually increasing before, deprived him of the consolations he might have deriv- ed from society. He encouraged his se- cond son to marry ; shut himself up for the most part in his own apartment ; and became, in effect one of those lay brothers I have formerly describ- ed. Yet, when time had blunted the edge of this ken affliction, many years after, when we lived at the Flats, he used to visit us ; and though he did not hear well, he conversed with great spirit, and was full of anecdote and information* Meanwhile, Madame did not sink under this calamity, though she felt it as much as her husband, but supported him ; and exerted herself to extract consolation from performing the duties of a mother to the infant who was now become the re* presentative of the family. Little Peter was accordingly brought home, and succeeded to all that care and affection of which his father had formerly been the object, while Cornelia ( 289 ) Cornelia was taken home to Jersey, to the family of her maternal grandfa- ther, who was 'a distinguished person in that district. There she was exceedingly well educated, became an elegant and very pleasing young woman, and was happily and most respectably married be- fore I left the country, as was her bro- ther very soon after. They are still liv- ing ; and Peter, adhering to what might be called, eventually the safer side, during the war with the mother country, succeed- ed undisturbed to his uncle's inheritance. All these new cares and sorrows did not in the least abate the hospitality, the popularity, or the public spirit of these truly great minds. Their dwelling, though in some measure become a house of mourning, was still the rendezvous of the wise and worthy, the refuge of the stran- ger, and an academy for deep and sound thinking, taste, intelligence, and moral beauty. There the plans for the pub- lic good were digested by the rulers of the province, who came, under the pretext of a sitrnmer excursion for mete amusement. VOL, T. o There ( 290 ) There the operations of the army, and the treaties of peace or alliance with various nations, were arranged - y for there the le- gislators of the state, and the leaders of the war, were received, and mixed seri- ous and important counsels with convi- vial cheerfulness, and domestic ease and familiarity. 'Tis not to be conceived how essential a point of union, a barrier against licence, and a focus, in which the rays of intellect and intelligence were concen- trated, (such as existed in this family,) were to unite the jarring elements of which the community was composed, and to suggest to those who had power without experience, the means of min- gling in due proportions its various mate- rials for the public utility. Still, though the details of family-happiness were abridged, the spirit that produced it con- tinued to exist, and to find new objects of interest. A mind elevated by the con- sciousness of its own powers, and enlarg- ed by the habitual exercise of them, for the great purpose of promoting the good of others, yields to the pressure of calamity, but ( 291 ) but sinks not under it ; particularly when habituated, like these exalted characters, to look through the long vista of futurity towards the final accomplishment of the designs of Providence. Like a diligent gardener, who, when his promising young- plants are blasted in full strength and beauty, though he feels extremely for their loss, does not sit down in idle chagrin, but redoubles his efforts to train up their suc- cessors to the same degree of excellence. Considering the large family she (Madame) always had about her, of which she was the guiding star as well as the informing soul, and the innocent cheerfulness which she encouraged and enjoyed ; considering, too, the number of interesting guests whom she received, and that complete union of minds, which made her enter so intimately into all the colonel's pursuits, it may be wondered how she found time for solid and improving reading ; because people, whose time is so much occupied in business and society, are apt to relax,, with amusing tri- fles of the desultory kind, when they have odd half hours to bestow on literary ainusc- o 2 mcnts ( 292 ) ments. But her strong and indefatiga- ble mind never loosened its grasp ; ever intent on the useful and the noble, she found little leisure for what are in- deed the greatest objects of feeble cha- racters. After the middle of life she went little out ; her household, long since arranged by certain general rules, went regularly on, because every domes- tic knew exactly the duties of his or her place, and dreaded losing it, as the great- est possible misfortune. She had always with her some young person, " who was unto her as a daughter ;" who was her friend and companion j and -bred up in such a manner as to qualify her for be- ing such ; and one of whose duties it was to inspect the state of the household, and " report progress," with regard to the operations going on in the various depart- ments. For no one better understood, or more justly estimated, the duties of house- wifery. Thus, those young females, who had the happiness of being bred under her auspices, very soon became qualified to assist her, instead of encroaching much on ( 293 ) on her time. The example and conver- sation of the family in which they liv- ed, was to them a perpetual school for use- ful knowledge, and manners easy and dignified, though natural and artless. They were not indeed embellished ; but then they were not deformed by affec- tation, pretensions, or defective imitation of fashionable models of manners. They were not indeed bred up " to dance, to dress, to roll the eye, or troll the ton- gue ;" yet they were not lectured into un- natural gravity, or frozen reserve. I have seen those of them who were lovely, gay, , and animated, though, in the words of an old familiar lyric, Without disguise or art, like flowers that grace the wild, " Their sweets they did impart whene'er they spoke or smil'd." Two of those to whom this description particularly applies, still live; and still retain not only evident traces of beauty, but that unstudied grace and dignity which is the result of conscious worth and honour, habituated to receive the o 3 tribute ( 294 ) -tribute of general respect. This is the privilege of minds which are always in their own place, and neither stoop to solicit ap- plause from their inferiors, nor strive to rise to a fancied equality with those whom na- ture or fortune have placed beyond them. Aunt was a great manager of her time, and always contrived to create leisure hours for reading ; for that kind of con- versation, which is properly styled gossip- ing, she had the utmost contempt. Light superficial reading, such as merely fills a blank in time, and glides over the mind without leaving an impression, was little known there ; for few books cross- ed the Atlantic but such as were worth carrying so far for their intrinsic value. She was too much accustomed to have her mind occupied with objects of real weight and importance, to give it up to frivolous pursuits of any kind. She be- gan the morning with reading the Scrip- tures. They always breakfasted early, and dined two hours later than the primi- tive inhabitants, who always took that ineal at twelve. This departure from the ancient ancient customs was necessary in this fa- mily, to accommodate the great num- bers of British as well as strangers from New York, who were daily entertained at her liberal table. This arrangement gave her the advantage of a longer fore- noon to dispose of. After breakfast she gave orders for the family details of the day, which, without a scrupulous atten- tion to those minutiae which fell more pro- perly under the notice of her young friends, she always regulated in the most judicious manner, so as to prevent all ap- pearance of hurry and confusion. There was such a rivalry among domestics, whose sole ambition was her favour, and who had been trained up from infancy, each to their several duties, that excellence in each department was the result both of habit and emulation ; while her young protegees were early taught the value and importance of good housewifery, and were sedulous in their attention to little matters of decoration and elegance, which her mind was too much engrossed to at- tend to; so that her household affairs, o 4< ever ( 296 ) ever well regulated, went on in a me- chanical kind of progress, that seemed to engage little of her attention, though her vigilant and overruling mind set every spring of action in motion. Having thus easily and speedily arranged the details of the day, she retired to read in her closet, where she generally remained till about eleven ; when, being unequal to distant walks, the colonel and she, and some of her elder guests, passed some of the hotter hours among those embower- ing shades of her garden, in which she took great pleasure. Here was their Ly- ceum ; here questions in religion and mo- rality, too weighty for table talk, were lei- surely and coolly discussed ; and plans of policy and various utility arranged. From this retreat they adjourned to the portico; and while the colonel either retired to write, or went to give directions to his servants, she sat in this little tribunal, giv ing audience to new settlers, followers of the army left in hapless dependence, and others who wanted assistance or advice, or hoped she would intercede with the colonel ( 297 ) colonel fof r something more peculiarly in his way, he having great influence with the colonial government. At the usual hour her dinner-party assembled, which was generally a large one ; and here I must digress from the detail of the day to observe, that, looking up as I always did to Madame with admiring veneration* and having always heard her mentioned with unqualified applause, I look often back to think what defects or faults she could possibly have to rank with the sons and daughters of imperfection, inhabiting this transitory scene of existence, well knowing, from subsequent observation of life, that error is' the unavoidable portion of humanity. Yet of this truism, to which every one will 'readily subscribe, I can recollect no proof in my friend's conduct, unless the luxury of her table rriight be produced to confirm it. Yet this, after all, was but comparative' luxury. There was more choice %Ad 'selection', and perhaps more abundance at her table, than at those of the^other primitive inhav bitants, yet how simple were 1 frer repasts p compared ( 298 ) compared with those which the luxury of the higher ranks in this country offer to provoke the sated appetite. Her din- ner-party .generally consisted of some of her intimate friends or near relations;, her adopted children , who were inmates for the time being ; and strangers, some- times invited, merely as friendless travel- lers, on the score of hospitality, but often welcomed for some time as stationary vi- sitors, on account of worth or talents* that gave value to their society; and, lastly, military guests, selected with some discrimination on account of the young friends, whom they wished not only to protect, but cultivate by an improving association. Conversation here was al- ways rational, generally instructive, and often cheerful. The afternoon frequently brought with it a new set of guests. Tea was always drank early here ; and, as I have formerly observed, was attended with so many petty luxuries of pastry, confectionery, &c. that it might well be recounted a meal by those whose early and frugal dinners had so long gone by. In Albany ( 299 ) Albany it was customary, after the -heat of the day was past, for the young peo- ple to go in parties of three or four, in open carriages, to drink tea at an hour or two's drive from town. The receiv- ing and entertaining this sort of company generally was the province of the younger part of the family ; and of those many came, in summer evenings, to the Flats, when tea, which was very early, was over. The young people, and those who were older., took their different walks while Madame .sat in her portico, engaged in what might comparatively be called light reading, essays, biography, poetry, &c. till the younger party set out on their return home, and her domestic friends rejoined her in her portico, where, in warm even- ings, a slight repast was sometimes brought ; but they more frequently shared the last and most truly social meal within. Winter made little difference in her mode of occupying her time. She then always retired to her closet to read at stated periods. In conversation she certainly took de- o 6 light, ( 300 ) light, and peculiarly excelled; yet did nof in the least engross it, or seem to dictate. On the contrary, her thirst for knowledge was such, and she possessed such a pecu- liar talent for discovering the point of uti- lity in all things, that from every one's discourse she extracted some information, on which the light of her mind was thrown in such a direction, as made it turn to account. Whenever she laid down her book she took up her knitting, which neither occupied her eyes nor attention, while it kept her fingers engaged ; thus setting an example of humble diligence to her young protegees. In this employment she had a kind of tender satisfaction, as little children, reared in the family, were the only objects of her care in this re- spect. For those, she constantly provided a, supply of hosiery till they were seven years old ; and, after that, transferred her attention to some younger favourite. In her earlier days, when her beloved colonel could share the gaieties of society, I have been told they both had a high relish for ipnocent mirth, and every species of hu- morous ( 301 ) morous pleasantry ; but in my time there was a chastened gravity in his discourse, which, however, did not repulse innocent cheerfulness, though it dashed all manner of levity, and that flippancy which great familiarity sometimes encourages amongst young people, who live much together. Had Madame, with the same good sense, the same high principle, and general be- nevolence towards young people, lived in society, such as is to be met with in Britain, the principle upon which she acted would have led her to encourage in such society more gaiety and freedom of manners. As the regulated forms of life in Britain set bounds to the ease that accompanies good breeding, and refine- ment, generally diffused, supplies the place of native delicacy, where that is wanting, a certain decent freedom is both safe and allowable. But, amid the sim- plicity of primitive manners, those bounds are not so well defined. Under these circumstances, mirth is a romp, and hu- mour a buffoon ; and both must be kept within strict limits, CHAP. ( 302 ) CHAP. XXXI. Family Details. HTHE hospitalities of this family were so far beyond their apparent income, that all strangers were astonished at them. To account for this, it must be observed that, in the first place, there was perhaps scarce an instance of a family possessing such uncommonly well-trained, active, and diligent slaves, as that which I describei The set that were staid servants when they married, had some of them died off by the time I knew the family ; but the principal roots from whence the many branches, then flourishing, sprung, yet remained. These were two women, who had come originally from Africa while very young; they were most excellent servants, and the mothers or grand- mothers of the whole set, except one white-woolled negro-man ; who, in my time, ( 303 ) time, sat by the chimney, and made shoes for all the rest. The great pride and hap- piness of these sable matrons were, to bring up their children to dexterity, dili- gence, and obedience ; Diana being de- termined that Maria's children should not excel hers in any quality, which was a recommendation to favour ; and Maria equally resolved that her brood, in the race of excellence, should out-strip Diana's* Never was a more fervent competition. That of Phillis and Brunetta, in the Spec- tator, was a trifle to it : and it was ex- tremely difficult to decide on their re- spective merits ; for though Maria's son Prince cut down wood with more dex- terity and dispatch than any one in the province, the mighty Caesar, son of Diana, cut down wheat, and threshed it, better than he. His sister Betty, who, to her misfortune, was a beauty of her kind, and possessed wit equal to her beauty, was the best sempstress and laundress, by far, I have ever known; and the plain unpretending Rachel, sister to Prince, wife to Titus, alias Tyte, and head cook, dressed < 304 ) dressed dinners that might have pleased Apicius. I record my old humble friends by their real names, because they allow- edly stood at the head of their own class ; and distinction of every kind- should be respected. Besides, when the curtain drops, or indeed long before it falls, 'tis, perhaps, more creditable to have excelled in the lowest parts, than to have fallen miserably short in the higher. Of the inferior personages, in this dark drama I have been characterizing, it would be tedious to tell : suffice it, that besides filling up all the lower depart- ments of the household, and cultivating to the highest advantage a most ex- tensive farm, there was a thorough-bred carpenter and shoe-maker, and an uni- versal genius who made canoes, nets, and paddles ; shod horses, mended imple- ments of husbandry, managed the fish- ing, in itself nD small department, reared hemp and tobacco, and spun both j made cyder, and tended wild horses, as they call them j which was his province to manage and to break. For every branch of ( 305 ; of the domestic ceconomy, there was a person allotted j educated for the pur- pose ; and this society was kept immacu- late, in the same way that the quakers preserve the rectitude of theirs ; and, in- deed, in the only way that any commu- nity can be preserved from corruption ; when a member shewed symptoms of de- generacy, he was immediately expelkd, or in other words more suitable to this case, sold. Among the domestics, there was such a rapid increase, in consequence of their marrying very early, and living comfortably without care, that if they had not been detached off with the young people brought up in the house, they would have swarmed like an over-stocked hive. The prevention of crimes was so much attended to in this well regulated family, that there was very little punishment ne- cessary, none that lever heard of, but such as Diana and Maria inflicted on their progeny, with a view to prevent the dread- ed sentence of expulsion ; notwithstanding the? ( 506 ) the petty rivalry between the branches of of the two original stocks. Inter-marri- ages between the Montagues and Capu- lets of the kitchen, which frequently took place, and the habit of living together under the same mild, though regular go* vernment, produced a general cordiality and affection among all the members of the family, who were truly ruled by the law of love; and even those who occasion- ally differed about trifles, had aa unconsci- ous attachment to each other, which shewed itself on all emergencies. Treated themselves with care and gentleness, they were careful, and kind, with regard to the only inferiors and dependants they had, the domestic animals. The superior personages in the family, had always some good property to mention, or good saying to repeat, of those whom they cherished into attachment, and exalted into intelli- gence; while they, in their turn, im- proved the sagacity of their subject ani- mals, by caressing and talking to them. Let no one laugh at this ; for whenever man ( 307 } man is at ease and unsophisticated, where his native humanity is not extinguished by want, or chilled by oppression, it over- flows to inferior beings ; and improves their instincts, to a degree incredible to those who have not witnessed it. In all mountainous countries, where man is more free, more genuine, and more di- vided into little societies widely detached from others, and much attached to each other, this cordiality of sentiment, this overflow of good will takes place. The poet says, " Humble love, and not proud reason. Keeps the door of heaven." This question must be left for divines to determine ; but sure am I that humble love, and not proud reason, keeps the door of earthly happiness, as far as it is attain- able. I am not going, like the admirable Crichton, to make an oration in praise of ignorance ; but a very high degree of re- finement certainly produces a quickness of discernment, a niggard approbation, and ( 308 ) and a fastidiousness of taste, that find a thousand repulsive and disgusting quali- ties mingled with those that excite our admiration, and would (were we less cri- tical) produce affection. Alas ! that the tree should so literally impart the know- ledge of good and evil ; much evil and little good. It is time to return from this excursion, to the point from which I set out. The Princes and Caesars of the Flats had as much to tell of the sagacity and attach- ments of the animals, as their mistress re- lated of their own. Numberless anecdotes that delighted me in the last century, I would recount, but fear I should not find my- audience of such easy belief as I was, nor so convinced of the integrity of my informers. One circumstance I must men- tion, because I well know it to be true. The colonel had a horse which he rode oc- casionally, but which oftener travelled with Mrs. Schuyler in an open carriage. At par- ticular times, when bringing home hay or corn they yoked Wolf, for so he was cal- led, in a waggon ; an indignity to which, for ( S09 ) for a while, he unwillingly submitted. At length, knowing resistance was in vain, he had recourse to stratagem ; and wheii- ever he saw Tyte marshalling his cavalry for service, he swam over to the island ; the umbrageous and tangled border of which I formerly mentioned: there he fed with fearless impunity till he saw the boat approach ; whenever that happened he phi rged into the thicket, and led his followers such a chase, that they were glad to give up the pursuit. When he saw from his retreat that the work was over, and the fields bare, he very coolly returned. Being, by this time, 'rather old, and a favourite, the colonel allowed him to be indulged in his dislike to drud- gery. The mind which is at ease, nei- ther stung by remorse, nor goaded by ambition or other turbulent passions, nor worn with anxiety for the supply of daily wants, nor sunk into languor by stupid idleness, forms ' attachments and amuse- ments, to which those exalted by culture would not stoop, and those crushed by want and care could not rise. Of this nature ( 310 ) nature was the attachment to the tame animals, which the domestics appropri- ated to themselves, and to the little fanci- ful gardens where they raised herbs or plants of difficult culture, to sell and give to their friends. Each negro was in- dulged with his racoon, his great squirrel, r musk rat ; or perhaps his beaver, which he tamed and attached to himself, by daily feeding and caressing him in the farm-yard. One was sure about all such houses to find these animals, in whom their masters took the highest pleasure. All these small features of human nature must not be despised for their minute- ness. To a good mind they afford conso- lation. Science, directed by virtue, is a god like enlargement of the powers of human nature; and exalted rank is so necessary a finish to the fabric of society, and so inva- riable a result from its regular establish- ment, that in respecting those, whom the divine wisdom has set above us, we perform a duty such as we expect from our own inferiors ; this helps to support the gene- ral ( 311 ) ral order of society. But so very few in proportion to the whole can be enlighten- ed by science, or exalted by situation, that a good mind draws comfort from discovering even the petty enjoyments permitted to those in the state which we consider most abject and depressed. CHAP ( 312 ) CHAP. XXXII. Resource of Madame. Provincial Customs. TT may appear extraordinary, with so mo- derate an income, as could in those days be derived even from a considerable estate in that country, how Madame found means to support that liberal hospitality, which they constantly exercised. I know the utmost they" could derive from their lands, and it was not much : some mo- ney they had, but nothing adequate to the dignity, simple as it was, of their style of living, and the very large family they always drew around them. But with re- gard to the plenty, one might almost call it luxury, of their table, it was supplied from a variety of sources, that rendered it less expensive than could be imagined. Indians, grateful for the numerous bene - fits they were daily receiving from them, were constantly bringing the smaller game, and, in winter and spring, loads of venison. Little Little money passed from one hand to another in the country ; but there was constantly, as there always is in primitive abodes, before the age of calculation be- gins, a kindly commerce of presents. The people of New York and Rhode-Island, several of whom were wont to pass a part of the summer with the colonel's family, were loaded with all the productions of the farm and river. When they went home, they again never failed, at the season, to send a large supply of oysters, and all other shell-fish, which at New York abounded -, besides great quantities of tropical fruit, which, from the short run between Jamaica and New York, were there almost as plenty and cheap, as in their native soil. Their farm yielded them abundantly all that in general agri- culture can supply > and the young rela tives who grew up about the house, were rarely a day without bringing some provision from the wood or the stream. The negroes, whose business lay frequently in the woods, never willingly went there or any where else, Without a gun, and VOL. i. P rarely came back empty-handed. Pre- sents of wine, then a very usual thing to send to friends to whom you wished to shew a mark of gratitude, came very often, possibly from the friends of the young people who were reared and in- structed in that house of benediction ; as there were no duties paid for the en- trance of any commodity there, wine, rum, and sugar, were cheaper than can easily be imagined; and in cyder they abounded. The negroes of the three truly united brothers, not having home employment in winter, after preparing fuel used to cut down trees, and carry them to an ad- joining saw-mill, where, in a very short lime, they made great quantities of planks, staves, &c. which is usually styled lum- ber, for the West-India market. And when a ship-load of their flour, lumber, and salted provisions were accumulated, some relative, for their behoof, freighted a vessel, and went out to the West- Indies with it. In this Stygian schooner, the departure of which was always look- ed ed forward to with unspeakable horror, all the stubborn or otherwise unmanage- able slaves were embarked, to be sold by way of punishment. This produced such salutary terror, that preparing the lading of this fatal vessel generally operated as a temporary reform at least. When its cargo was discharged in the West Indies, it took in a lading of wine, rum, sugar, coffee, chocolate, and all other West-India productions, paying for whatever fell short of the value, and returning to Al- bany, sold the surplus to their friends, after reserving to themselves a most li- beral supply of all the articles so im- ported. Thus they had not only a pro- fusion of all the requisites for good house- keeping, but had it in their power to do what was not unusual there in wealthy families, though none carried it so far as these worthies. In process of time, as people multi- plied, when a man had eight or ten chil- dren to settle in life, and these marry- ing early, and all their families increasing P 2 fast, ( S16 ) fast, though they always were considered as equals, and each kept a neat house and decent outside, yet it might be that some of them were far less successful than others, in their various efforts to support their families j but these deficiencies were supplied in a quiet and delicate way, by presents of every thing a family required, sent from all their connexions and ac- quaintances j which, where there was a continual interchange of sausages, pigs, roasting pieces, &c* from one house to another, excited little attention: but when Aunt's West-India cargo arrived, all the families of this description within her reach, had an ample boon sent them of her new supply. The same liberal spirit animated her sister, a very excellent person, married to Cornelius Cuyler, then mayor of Al- bany; who had been a most successful Indian trader in his youth, and had ac- quired large possessions, and carried on an extensive commercial intercourse with the traders of that day, bringing from Europe ( 317 ) Europe quantities of those goods that best suited them, and sending back their peltry in exchange; he was not only wealthy, but hospitable, intelligent, and liberal-minded, as appeared by his at- tachment to the army, which was, in those days, the distinguishing feature ,of those who in knowledge and candour were beyond others. His wife had the same considerate and prudent generosity, which ever directed the humanity of her sister; though, having a large family, she could not carry it to so great an ex*- tent. If this maternal friend of their mutual relatives could be said to have a preference among her own, and her husband's rela- tions, it was certainly to this family. The eldest son Philip, who bore her husband's name, was on that and other accounts, a particular favourite ; and was, I think, as much with them in childhood, as his at- tention to his education, which was cer- tainly the best the province could afford, would permit*. Having become distinguished through F. 3 all ( 318 ) all the northern provinces, the common people, and the inferior class of the mili- tary, had learned^ from the Canadians who frequented her house, to call Aunt 9 Madame Schuyler ; but by one or other of these appellations she was universally known; and a kindly custom prevailed, for those who were received into any de- gree of intimacy in her family, to address her as their aunt, though not in the least related. This was done oftener to her than others, because she excited more re- spect and affection; but it had in some degree the sanction of custom. The Al- banians were sure to call each other aunt or cousin, as far as the most strained con- struction would carry those relations. To strangers they were indeed very shy at first, but extremely kind ; when they not only proved themselves estimable, but by a con- descension to their customs and acquiring a smattering of their language , ceased to be strangers, then they were in a manner adopt- ed ; for the first seal of cordial intimacy among the young people was to call each Other ( 319 ) other cousin ; and thus in an hour of playful or tender intimacy I have known it more than once begin : at which the co- lonel's two brothers, and sisters, Aunt's sister, Mrs. Cornelius Cuyler, and their families, with several other young people related to them assembled. It was not given on a stated day, but at the time when most of these kindred could be col- lected. This year I have often heard my good friend ccmmemorate,asthat on which their family stock of happiness felt the first diminution. The feast was made, and aU tended by all the collateral branches, con- sisting of fifty-two, who had a claim by marriage or descent, to call the colonel and my friend uncle and aunt, besides their pa- rents. Among these were reckoned three or four grandchildren of their brothers. At this grand gala there could be no less than sixty persons, but many of them were doomed to meet no more; for the next year the small-pox, always peculiarly mortal here, (where it was improperly treated in the ( 321 } the old manner,) broke out with great virulence, and raged like a plague ; but none of those relatives whom Mrs. Schuy- ler had domesticated suffered by it ; and the skill which she had acquired from the communications of the military surgeons who were wont to frequent her house, enabled her to administer advice and assist- ance, which essentially benefited many of the patients in whom she was particularly interested; though even her influence could not prevail on people to have re- course to inoculation. The patriarchal feast of the former year, and the hu- mane exertions of this, made the colonel and his consort appear so much in the light of public benefactors, that all the young regarded them with a kind of filial reverence, and the addition of un-, cle and aunt was become confirmed and universal, and was considered as an hono- rary distinction. The ravages which the small-pox made this year among their Mohawk friends, was a source of deep concern to these revered philanthropists ; but this was an evil not to be remedied by by any ordinary means. These people, asr has been already remarked, being accus- tomed from early childhood to anoint themselves with bear's grease,, to repel the innumerable tribes of noxious insects in summer, arid to exclude the extreme cold in winter, their pores are so com* pletely shut up, that the small-pox does not rise upon them, nor have they much chance of recovery from any acute dis- ease ; but, excepting the fatal infection already mentioned, they are not subject to any other than the rheumatism, unless in very rare instances. The ravages of disease this year operated on their popu- lation as a blow, which it never recover- ed ; and they considered the small-pox in a physical, and the use of strong liquor* in a moral sense, as two plagues which we had introduced among them, for which our arts, our friendship, and even our reli- gion, were a very inadequate recompense, ibfi^ gaottu: it-'r -life sliKZi 2cq i----'^- END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. H. Bryer, Printer, Bridge-Street, Blackfriars, London. 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