Part 13

[Sidenote] The charter surrendered to the King.

The Trustees of Georgia finding that the province languished under their care, and weary of the complaints of the people, in the year 1752 surrendered their charter to the King, and it was made a royal government. In consequence of which his Majesty appointed John Reynolds, an officer of the navy, Governor of the province, and a legislature similar to that of the other royal governments in America was established in it. Great had been the expence which the mother country had already incurred, besides private benefactions, for supporting this colony; and small had been the returns yet made by it. The vestiges of cultivation were scarcely perceptible in the forest, and in England all commerce with it was neglected and despised. At this time the whole annual exports of Georgia did not amount to ten thousand pounds sterling. Though the people were now favoured with the same liberties and privileges enjoyed by their neighbours under the royal care, yet several years more elapsed before the value of the lands in Georgia was known, and that spirit of industry broke out in it which afterwards diffused its happy influence over the country.

[Sidenote] George Whitfield's settlement.

In the annals of Georgia the famous George Whitfield may not be unworthy of some notice, especially as the world through which he wandered has heard so much of his Orphan-house built in that province. Actuated by religious motives, this wanderer several times passed the Atlantic to convert the Americans, whom he addressed in such a manner as if they had been all equal strangers to the privileges and benefits of religion with the original inhabitants of the forest. However, his zeal never led him beyond the maritime parts of America, through which he travelled, spreading what he called the true evangelical faith among the most populous towns and villages. One would have imagined that the heathens, or at least those who were most destitute of the means of instruction, would have been the primary and most proper objects of his zeal and compassion; but this was far from being the case. However, wherever he went in America, as in Britain, he had multitudes of followers. When he first visited Charlestown, Alexander Garden, a man of some sense and erudition, who was the episcopal clergyman of that place, to put the people upon their guard, took occasion to point out to them the pernicious tendency of Whitfield's wild doctrines and irregular manner of life. He represented him as a religious impostor or quack, who had an excellent knack of setting off to advantage his poisonous tenets. On the other hand, Whitfield, who had been accustomed to bear reproach and face opposition, recriminated with double acrimony and greater success. While Alexander Garden, to keep his flock from straying after this strange pastor, expatiated on the words of Scripture, "Those that have turned the world upside down are come hither also." Whitfield, with all the force of comic humour and wit for which he was so much distinguished, by way of reply, enlarged on these words, "Alexander the coppersmith hath done me much evil, the Lord reward him according to his works." In short, the pulpit was perverted by both into the mean purposes of spite and malevolence, and every one catching a share of the infection, spoke of the clergymen as they were differently affected.

[Sidenote] Whitfield's Orphan-house.

In Georgia Whitfield having obtained a track of land from the Trustees, erected a wooden house two stories high, the dimensions of which were seventy feet by forty, upon a sandy beach nigh the sea-shore. This house, which he called the Orphan-House, he began to build about the year 1740, and afterwards finished it at a great expense. It was intended to be a lodging for poor children, where they were to be clothed and fed by charitable contributions, and and trained up in the knowledge and practice of the Christian religion. The design, beyond doubt, was humane and laudable; but, perhaps, had he travelled over the whole earth, he could scarcely have found out a spot of ground upon it more improper for the purpose. The whole province of Georgia could not furnish him with a track of land of the same extent more barren and unprofitable. To this house poor children were to be sent from at least a healthy country, to be supported partly by charity, and partly by the produce of this land cultivated by negroes. Nor was the climate better suited to the purpose than the soil, for it is certain, before the unwholesome marshes around the house were fertilized, the influences of both air and water must have conspired to the children's destruction.

However, Whitfield having formed his chimerical project, determined to accomplish it, and, instead of bring discouraged by obstacles and difficulties, gloried in despising them. He wandered through the British empire, persuaded the ignorant and credulous part of the world of the excellence of his design, and obtained from them money, clothes, and books, to forward his undertaking, and supply his poor orphans in Georgia. About thirty years after this wooden house was finished it was burned to the ground; during which time, if I am well informed, few or none of the children educated in it have proved either useful members of society, or exemplary in respect to religion. Some say the fire was occasioned by a foul chimney, and others by a flash of lightning; but whatever was the cause, it burnt with such violence that little of either the furniture or library escaped the flames. When I saw the ruins of this fabric, I could not help reflecting on that great abuse of the fruits of charity too prevalent in the world. That money which was sunk here had been collected chiefly from the poorest class of mankind. Most of those bibles which were here burnt had been extorted from indigent and credulous persons, who perhaps had not money to purchase more for themselves. Happy was it for the zealous founder of this institution, that he did not live to see the ruin of his works. After his death he was brought from New-England, above eight hundred miles, and buried at this Orphan-house. In his last will he left Lady Huntingdon sole executrix, who has now converted the lands and negroes belonging to the poor benefactors of Great Britain and her dominions, to the support of clergymen of the same irregular stamp with the deceased, but void of his shining talents, and it is become a seminary of dissension and sedition.

[Sidenote] Sketch of his character.

As George Whitfield appeared in such different lights in the successive stages of life, it is no easy matter to delineate his character without an uncommon mixture and vast variety of colours. He was in the British empire not unlike one of those strange and erratic meteors which appear now and then in the system of nature. In his youth, as he often confessed and lamented, he was gay, giddy and profligate; so fondly attached to the stage, that he joined a company of strolling actors and vagabonds, and spent a part of his life in that capacity. At this period it is probable he learned that grimace, buffoonery and gesticulation which he afterwards displayed from the pulpit. From an abandoned and licentious course of life he was converted; and, what is no uncommon thing, from one extreme he run into the other, and became a most zealous and indefatigable teacher of religion. Having studied some time at Oxford, he received ordination in the church of England; yet he submitted to none of the regulations of that or any other church, but became a preacher in churches, meeting-houses, halls, fields, in all places, and to all denominations, without exception. Though little distinguished for genius or learning, yet he possessed a lively imagination, much humour, and had acquired considerable knowledge of human nature and the manners of the world. His pretensions to humanity and benevolence were great, yet he would swell with venom, like a snake, against opposition and contradiction. His reading was inconsiderable, and mankind being the object of his study, he could, when he pleased, raise the passions, and touch the tone of the human heart to great perfection. By this affecting eloquence and address he impressed on the minds of many, especially of the more soft and delicate sex, such a strong sense of sin and guilt as often plunged them into dejection and despair. As his custom was to frequent those larger cities and towns, that are commonly best supplied with the means of instruction, it would appear that the love of fame and popular applause was his leading passion; yet in candour it must be acknowledged, that he always discovered a warm zeal for the honour of God and the happiness of men. While he was almost worshipped by the vulgar, men of superior rank and erudition found him the polite gentleman, and the facetious and jocular companion. Though he loved good cheer, and frequented the houses of the rich or more hospitable people of America, yet he was an enemy to all manner of excess and intemperance. While his vagrant temper led him from place to place, his natural discernment enabled him to form no bad judgment of the characters and manners of men wherever he went. Though he appeared a friend to no established church, yet good policy winked at all his irregularities, as he every where proved a steady friend to monarchy and the civil constitution. He knew well how to keep up the curiosity of the multitude, and his roving manner stamped a kind of novelty on his instructions. When exposed to the taunts of the scoffer, and the ridicule of the flagitious, he remained firm to his purpose, and could even retort these weapons with astonishing ease and dexterity, and render vice abashed under the lash of his satire and wit. Sometimes, indeed, he made little scruple of consigning over to damnation such as differed from him or despised him; yet he was not entirely devoid of liberality of sentiment. To habitual sinners his address was for the most part applicable and powerful, and with equal ease could alarm the secure, and confirm the unsteady. Though, in prayer, he commonly addressed the second person of the Trinity in a familiar and fulsome style, and in his sermons used many ridiculous forms of speech, and told many of his own wonderful works, yet these seemed only shades to set off to greater advantage the lustre of his good qualities. In short, though it is acknowledged he had many oddities and failings, and was too much the slave of party and vain-glory, yet in justice it cannot be denied, that religion in America owed not a little to the zeal, diligence, and oratory, of this extraordinary man.

Having said so much with respect to the character which Mr. Whitfield bore in America, if we view the effects of his example and manner of life in that country, he will appear to us in a less favourable light. His great ambition was to be the founder of a new sect, regulated entirely by popular fancy and caprice, depending on the gifts of nature, regardless of the improvements of education and all ecclesiastical laws and institutions. Accordingly, after him a servile race of ignorant and despicable imitators sprung up, and wandered from place to place, spreading doctrines subversive of all public order and peace. We acknowledge the propriety and justice of allowing every reasonable indulgence to men in matters of religion. The laws of toleration being part of our happy constitution, it lies with men to learn their duty from them, and claim protection under them. But after a church has been erected and established by the most skilful architects, and for ages received the approbation of the wisest and best men, it serves only to create endless confusion to be making alterations and additions to gratify the fancy of every Gothic pretender to that art. Though Whitfield was in fact a friend to civil government, yet his followers on that continent have been distinguished for the contrary character, and have for the most part discovered an aversion to our constitution both of church and state. Toleration to men who remain peaceable subjects to the state is reasonable; but dissention, when it grows lawless and headstrong, is dangerous, and summons men in general to take shelter under the constitution, that the salutary laws of our country may be executed by its united strength. No man ought to claim any lordship over the conscience; but when the consciences of obstinate sectaries become civil nuisances, and destructive of public tranquillity, they ought to be restrained by legal authority. For certainly human laws, if they have not the primary, have, or ought to have, a secondary power to restrain the irregular and wild excesses of men in religious as well as in civil matters.

[Sidenote] A congress with Creeks.

About the year 1752 the flames of war broke out among some Indian nations, which threatened to involve the province of Carolina in the calamity. The Creeks having quarrelled with their neighbours for permitting some Indians to pass through their country to wage war against them, by way of revenge had killed some Cherokees nigh the gates of Charlestown. A British trader to the Chickesaw nation had likewise been scalped by a party of warriors belonging to the same nation. Governor Glen, in order to demand satisfaction for these outrages, sent a messenger to the Creeks, requesting a conference at Charlestown with their leading men. The Creeks returned for answer, that they were willing to meet him, but as the path had not been open and safe for some time, they could not enter the settlement without a guard to escort them. Upon which the Governor sent fifty horsemen, who met them at the confines of their territories, and convoyed Malatchee, with above an hundred of his warriors, to Charlestown.

[Sidenote] The governor's speech to them.

As they arrived on Sunday the Governor did not summon his council until the day following, to hold a congress with them. At this meeting a number of gentlemen were present, whom curiosity had drawn together to see the warriors and hear their speeches. When they entered the council-chamber the Governor arose and took them by the hand, signifying that he was glad to see them, and then addressed them to the following effect: "Being tied together by the most solemn treaties, I call you by the beloved names of friends and brothers. In the name of the great King George I have sent for you, on business of the greatest consequence to your nation. I would have received you yesterday on your arrival, but it was a beloved day, dedicated to repose and the concerns of a future life. I am sorry to hear that you have taken up the hatchet, which I flattered myself had been for ever buried. It is my desire to have the chain brightened and renewed, not only between you and the English, but also between you and other Indian nations. You are all our friends, and I could wish that all Indians in friendship with us were also friends one with another. You have complained to me of the Cherokees permitting the northern Indians to come through their country to war against you, and supplying them with provisions and ammunition for that purpose. The Cherokees, on the other hand, alledge, that it is not in their power to prevent them, and declare, that while their people happen to be out hunting those northern Indians come in to their towns well armed, and in such numbers that they are not able to resist them.

"I propose that a treaty of friendship and peace be concluded first with the English, and then with the Cherokees, in such a manner as may render it durable. Some of your people have from smaller crimes proceeded to greater. First, they waylaid the Cherokees, and killed one of them in the midst of our settlements; then they came to Charlestown, where some Cherokees at the same time happened to be, and though I cautioned them, and they promised to do no mischief, yet the next day they assaulted and murdered several of them nigh the gates of this town. For these outrages I have sent for you, to demand satisfaction; and also for the murder committed in one of your towns, for which satisfaction was made by the death of another person, and not of the murderer. For the future, I acquaint you, that nothing will be deemed as satisfaction for the lives of our people, but the lives of these persons themselves who shall be guilty of the murder. The English never make treaties of friendship but with the greatest deliberation, and when made observe them with the strictest punctuality. They are, at the same time vigilant, and will not suffer other nations to infringe the smallest article of such treaties. It would tend to the happiness of your people were you equally careful to watch against the beginnings of evil; for sometimes a small spark, if not attended to, may kindle a great fire; and a slight sore, if suffered to spread, may endanger the whole body. Therefore, I have sent for you to prevent farther mischief, and I hope you come disposed to give satisfaction for the outrages already committed, and to promise and agree to maintain peace and friendship with your neighbours for the future."

[Sidenote: Malatchee's answer.] This speech delivered to the Indians was interpreted by Lachlan McGilvray, an Indian trader, who understood their language. After which Malatchee, the king of the Lower Creek nation, stood forth, and with a solemnity and dignity of manner that astonished all present, in answer, addressed the Governor to the following effect: "I never had the honour to see the great King George, nor to hear his talk--But you are in his place--I have heard yours, and I like it well--Your sentiments are agreeable to my own--The great King wisely judged, that the best way of maintaining friendship between white and red people was by trade and commerce: --He knew we are poor, and want many things, and that skins are all we have to give in exchange for what we want--I have ordered my people to bring you some as a present, and, in the name of our nation, I lay them at your Excellency's feet--You have sent for us--we are come to hear what you have to say--But I did not expect to hear our whole nation accused for the faults of a few private men--Our head-men neither knew nor approved of the mischief done--We imagined our young men had gone a-hunting as usual--When we heard what had happened at Charlestown, I knew you would send and demand satisfaction--When your agent came and told me what satisfaction you required, I owned the justice of it--But it was not adviseable for me alone to grant it--It was prudent to consult with our beloved men, and have their advice in a matter of such importance--We met--we found that the behaviour of some of our people had been bad--We found that blood had been spilt at your gates--We thought it just that satisfaction should he made--We turned our thoughts to find out the chief persons concerned; (for a man will sometimes employ another to commit a crime he does not chuse to be guilty of himself) --We found the Acorn Whistler was the chief contriver and promoter of the mischief--We agreed that he was the man that ought to suffer--Some of his relations, who are here present, then said he deserved death, and voted for it--Accordingly he was put to death--He was a very great warrior, and had many friends and relations in different parts of the country--We thought it prudent to conceal for some time the true reason of his death, which was known only to the head men that concerted it--We did this for fear some of his friends in the heat of fury would take revenge on some of your traders--At a general meeting all matters were explained--The reasons of his death were made known--His relations approved of all that was done.--Satisfaction being made, I say no more about that matter--I hope our friendship with the English will continue as heretofore.

"As to the injuries done to the Cherokees, which you spoke of, we are sorry for them--We acknowledge our young men do many things they ought not to do, and very often act like madmen--But it is well known I and the other head warriors did all we could to oblige them to make restitution--I rode from town to town with Mr. Bosomworth and his wife to assist them in this matter--Most of the things taken have been restored--When this was over, another accident happened which created fresh troubles--A Chickesaw who lived in our nation; in a drunken fit shot a white man--I knew you would demand satisfaction--I thought it best to give it before it was asked--The murder was committed at a great distance from me--I mounted my horse and rode through the towns with your agent--I took the head men of every town along with me--We went to the place and demanded satisfaction--It was given--The blood of the Indian was spilt for the blood of a white man--The uncle of the murderer purchased his life, and voluntarily killed himself in his stead--Now I have done--I am glad to see you face to face to settle those matters--it is good to renew treaties of friendship--I shall always be glad to call you friends and brothers."

This speech throws no small light on the judicial proceedings of barbarous nations, and shews that human nature in its rudest state possesses a strong sense of right and wrong. Although Indians have little property, yet here we behold their chief magistrate protecting what they have, and, in cases of robbery, acknowledging the necessity of making restitution. They indeed chiefly injure one another in their persons or reputations, and in all cases of murder the guilty are brought to trial and condemned to death by the general consent of the nation. Even the friends and relations of the murderer here voted for his death. But what is more remarkable, they give us an instance of an atonement made, and justice satisfied, by the substitution of an innocent man in place of the guilty. An uncle voluntarily and generously offers to die in the place of his nephew, the savages accept of the offer, and in consequence of his death declare that satisfaction is made. Next to personal defence, the Indian guards his character and reputation; for as it is only from the general opinion his nation entertains of his wisdom, justice and valour, that he can expect to arrive at rank and distinction, he is exceedingly watchful against doing any thing for which he may incur public blame or disgrace. In this answer to Governor Glen, Malatchee discovers considerable talents as a public speaker, and appears to be insensible neither to his own dignity and freedom, not to the honour and independence of his nation. Genius and liberty are the gifts of heaven; the former is universal as that space over which it has scope to range, the latter inspires confidence, and gives a natural confidence to our words and actions.