Part 11
And what has ind 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 virtues 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 charitable religion, this blended people assumed that undefined power, derived from superior valour and wisdom, which has so far exalted Europe over all the regions 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 character. In similar climes and circumstances to those of the primeval nations in the other hemisphere, the case has been very different. There, too, the hunter, by the same gradation, became a warrior; but first allured by the friendship which sought his protection; then repelled by the art that coveted and encroached on his territories; and lastly by the avarice which taught him new wants, and then took an undue advantage of them; they neither wished for our superfluities, nor envied our mode of life; nor did our encroachments much disturb them, as they receded into their trackless coverts as we approached from the coast. But though they scorned our refinements; and though our government, and all the enlightened minds among us, dealt candidly and generously with all such as were not set on by our enemies to injure us, the blight of European vices, the mere consequence of private greediness and fraud, proved fatal to our very friends. As I formerly observed, the nature of the climate did not admit of the warriors passing through the medium of a shepherd’s life to the toils of agriculture. The climate, though extremely 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 expense, in that country, to procure the implements necessary 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. It is 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 possessions; “Why,” said he, with evident surprise, “should any man desire to possess more than he uses?” More appeared, to his untutored sense, an incumbrance.
I have already observed how much happier they considered their manner of living 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 European settlers; who, instead of civilizing and improving, slowly consume and waste—where they do not, like the Spaniards, absolutely destroy and exterminate the natives. The very nature of even our most friendly mode of dealing with them, was 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 exigences, in which the superior acuteness of his senses, his fleetness and dexterity in the chace, are his chief dependence, loses so much of all this before he can become accustomed to, or qualified for our mode of procuring food by patient labour, that nothing can be conceived more enfeebled and forlorn, than the state of the few detached families remaining 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 up at once the faculties of his opponents, and renders strength and courage useless; 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 inhabitants 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 circling through the air towards its object, it never failed to reach it. But the arrows, on which they had formerly so much depended, were now considered merely as the weapons of boys, and only directed against birds.
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, in being a stimulus to industry. The provision requisite for making a splendid appearance at the winter 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 accurately dressed, and sewed together, to form that mantle which was so much valued, and as necessary to their consequence as the pelisse of sables is to that of an Eastern bashaw. A deer skin, or that of a bear or beaver, had their stated price. The boldest and most expert hunter, had most of these commodities to spare, and was therefore most splendidly arrayed. If he had a rival, it was in him whose dexterous ingenuity in fabricating the materials of which his own dress was composed, enabled him to vie with the hero of the chase.
Thus superior elegance in dress was not, as with us, the distinction of the luxurious and effeminate, but the privilege and reward of superior courage 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 stupid indolence we have been accustomed to impute to them.
Another arduous task remains uncalculated. Before they became dependent on us for the means of destruction, much time was consumed in forming their weapons; 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, pebbles, and shells. But all this system of employment was soon overturned by their late acquaintance with the insidious arts of Europe, to the use of whose manufactures they were insensibly drawn in, first by their passion for fire-arms, and finally, by their fatal appetite for liquor. To make this more clear, I shall insert a dialogue, such as, if not literally, at least in substance, might pass betwixt an Indian warrior and a trader.
CHAP. XXV.
Means by which the independence of the Indians was first diminished.
_Indian_—BROTHER, 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 provided scaura;[6] and by speaking smooth words to simple men, when they have swallowed madness, you have, by little and little, purchased their hunting grounds, and made them corn lands. Thus the beavers grow more scarce, and deer fly farther back; yet after I have reserved skins for my mantle, and the clothing of my wife, I will exchange the rest.
_Trader_—Be it so, brother: I 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 raccoon 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,[7] last year. How much will you demand?
Footnote 6:
Scaura is the Indian name for rum.
_Trader_—The skins of two deer for the bracelets, and those of two fawns for 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.[8]
_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 boil her maize, her beans, and above all, her maple-sugar. Here are silver brooches, and here are pistols for the youths.
_Indian_—The skins I can spare will not purchase them.
_Trader_—Your will determine, brother; but next year you will want nothing but powder and shot, having already 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 for yourself and your woman, and the same for leggings, this will pass the time, and save you the great labour of dressing the skins, making the thread, &c. for your clothing, which will give you more fishing and shooting time in the sturgeon and bear months.
Footnote 7:
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.
Footnote 8:
Indians have a great contempt, comparatively, for the beads we send them, which they consider 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.
_Indian_—But the custom of my fathers.
_Trader_—You will not break the custom of your fathers by being thus clad for a single year. They did not refuse those things which were offered to them.
_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 summer must not find a warrior idle.
The terms being adjusted, and the bargain concluded, the trader thus shows his gratitude for liberal dealing.
_Trader_—Corlaer has forbid bringing scaura to steal away the wisdom of the warriors; but we white men are weak and cold; we bring kegs for ourselves, lest death arise from the swamps. We will not sell scaura, but you shall taste some of ours in return for the venison with which you have feasted us.
_Indian_—Brother, we will drink moderately.
A bottle was then given to the warrior, by way of present, which he was advised 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 brooches, and above all, scaura, 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 war-whoop, made the woods resound with infuriated howlings; and having exhausted their dear-bought draught, probably determined, in contempt of that probity, which at all other times they rigidly observed, to plunder the instruments 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! unrestrained by that delicacy which is certainly one of the best fruits of refinement, they shared in them, and sunk sooner under them. A long and deep sleep generally 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 Milton describes Adam and Eve to have done after their transgression. Exhausted and forlorn, and stung with the consciousness of error and dependence, they had neither the means nor the desire of exercising their wonted summer occupations with spirit. Vacancy produced languor, and languor made them wish for the potion which gave temporary cheerfulness.[9] They carried their fish to the next fort or habitation to barter for rum. This brought on days of frenzy, succeeded by torpor. When again roused by want of exertion, they saw the season passing without the usual provision, and by an effort of persevering industry, tried to make up for past negligence; and then worn out by exertion, sunk into supine indolence, till the approach 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 their wonted character, and became what they used to be; but conscious that acquired tastes and wants, which they had not themselves the power of supplying, 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 appetites. Thus the energy, both of their characters and constitutions, was gradually undermined—and their numbers as effectually diminished, as if they had been wasted by war.
Footnote 9:
From Peter Schuyler, brother to the colonel, I have heard many such details.
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 and anointing themselves with bears’ grease, to defend them against the extremity of cold, to which their manner of life exposed them; and not being habitually subject to any cutaneous disease, the small-pox 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.
CHAP. XXVI.
Peculiar attractions of the Indian mode of life—Account of a settler who resided some time among them.
IN this wild liberty, habits of probity, mutual confidence, and constant variety, there was an undefinable charm, that while they 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, who, 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.” When it was discovered, some years after, that he was still living, his relations reclaimed him, and the community wished him to return and inherit his father’s lands, now become more considerable. The Indians were unwilling to part with their protégé, 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 assimilate in some degree with the Indians; and the young men, occasionally, at that early period, joined their hunting and fishing parties. It was considered as a matter of serious import to reclaim this young alien, lest others should be lost to the community and to their religion, by following his example. With difficulty 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 attachment to his foster fathers ever much diminished. 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 custom has too well reconciled us, and those little artifices which we all occasionally practise, rose to a height fully equal to that felt by Gulliver. Swift and this other misanthrope, though they lived at the same time, could not have had any intercourse, else one might have supposed the invectives 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 Houyhnhnmland, that I had met my old friend again. One really does meet with characters that fiction would seem too bold in portraying. 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 rage at the traders for administering the means of depravity. He could never 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 their humanity as well as principle, led them to try all possible means of administering. It was the pure light and genial 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 independence habitual to their own way of life, without acquiring in its room any of those comforts which sweeten ours. By gradually and gently unfolding to them the views of a happy futurity, and the means by which depraved humanity was restored to a participation of that blessing; pride, revenge, 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 incorporate in time with our society, and procure for themselves a comfortable subsistence, in a country no longer adapted to supply the wants of the houseless rangers of the forest.
The narrow policy of many looked coldly on this benevolent project. Hunters supplied the means of commerce, and warriors those of defence; and it was questionable 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 encouraging that not one, once converted, had ever forsaken the strict profession of their religion, or ever, in a single instance, abandoned themselves to the excesses so pernicious to their unconverted brethren. Never was the true spirit of christianity more exemplified than in the lives of those comparatively few converts, who, about this time, amounted to more than two hundred. But the tender care and example of the Schuylers, co-operating with the incessant labours of a judicious and truly apostolic missionary, some years after, greatly augmented their numbers in different 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 himself to one people or province, but travelled from place to place, to disseminate the gospel to new converts, and confirm and cherish the truths already planted. The first foundation of that church had, however, as I formerly mentioned, been laid long ago; and the examples of piety, probity, and benevolence, set by the worthies at the Flats, 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 shows the way to happiness, and bids all men do justice, and love one another, is given both to Corlaer, and Onnonthio,[10] does it not direct them in the same way? Why does Onnonthio 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 praying nation[11] that Corlaer and his people have forsaken the worship of his forefathers: besides, how can people, who believe that God and good spirits view and take an interest in all their actions, cheat and dissemble, drink and fight, quarrel and backbite, if they believe the great fire burns for those who do such things? If we believed what you say, we should not exchange so much good for wickedness, to please an evil spirit, who would rejoice at our destruction.”
Footnote 10:
Corlaer was the title given by them to the governor of New-York; and was figuratively used for the governed, and Onnonthio for those of Canada, in the same manner.
Footnote 11:
Praying nation, was a name given to a village of Indians near Montreal, who professed the catholic faith.