Part 18

The Moravian missionaries have wrought a greater change in the minds of the Indians than any others, and have succeeded so far as to induce some of them to abandon their savage mode of life, to renounce war, and to cultivate the earth. It is with the Munsies, a small tribe resident on the east side of Lake St. Clair, that they have had the most success; but the number that have been so converted is small indeed. The Roman Catholics have the most adherents, as the outward forms and parade of their religion are particularly calculated to strike the attention of the Indians, and as but little restraint is laid on them by the missionaries of that persuasion, in consequence of their profession of the new faith. The Quakers, of all people, have had the least success amongst them; the doctrine of non-resistance, which they set out with preaching, but ill accords with the opinion of the Indian; and amongst some tribes, where they have attempted to inculcate it, particularly amongst the Shawnese, one of the most warlike tribes to the north of the Ohio, they have been exposed to very imminent danger[17].

Footnote 17:

The great difficulty of converting the Indians to christianity does not arise from their attachment to their own religion, where they have any, so much as from certain habits which they seem to have imbibed with the very milk of their mothers.

A French missionary relates, that he was once endeavouring to convert an Indian, by describing to him the rewards that would attend the good, and the dreadful punishment which must inevitably await the wicked, in a future world, when the Indian, who had some time before lost his dearest friend, suddenly interrupted him, by asking him, whether he thought his departed friend was gone to heaven or to hell. I sincerely trust, answered the missionary, that he is in heaven. Then I will do as you bid me, added the Indian, and lead a sober life, for I should like to go to the place where my friend is. Had he, on the contrary, been told that his friend was in hell, all that the reverend father could have said to him of fire and brimstone would have been of little avail in persuading him to have led any other than the most dissolute life, in hopes of meeting with his friend to sympathise with him under his sufferings.

The Indians, who yet remain ignorant of divine revelation, seem almost universally to believe in the exigence of one supreme, beneficent, all wise, and all powerful spirit, and likewise in the existence of subordinate spirits, both good and bad. The former, having the good of mankind at heart, they think it needless to pay homage to them, and it is only to the evil ones, of whom they have an innate dread, that they pay their devotions, in order to avert their ill intentions. Some distant tribes, it is said, have priests amongst them, but it does not appear that they have any regular forms of worship. Each individual repeats a prayer, or makes an offering to the evil spirit, when his fear and apprehensions suggest the necessity of his so doing.

The belief of a future state, in which they are to enjoy the same pleasures as they do in this world, but to be exempted from pain, and from the trouble of procuring food, seems to be very general amongst them. Some of the tribes have much less devotion than others; the Shawnese, a warlike daring nation, have but very little fear of evil spirits, and consequently have scarcely any religion amongst them. None of this nation, that I could learn, have ever been converted to Christianity.

[Sidenote: LANGUAGE.]

It is a very singular and remarkable circumstance, that notwithstanding the striking similarity which we find in the persons, manners, customs, dispositions, and religion of the different tribes of Indians from one end of the continent of North America to the other, a similarity so great as hardly to leave a doubt on the mind but that they must all have had the same origin, the languages of the different tribes should yet be so materially different. No two tribes speak exactly the same language; and the languages of many of those, who live at no great distance asunder, vary so much, that they cannot make themselves at all understood to each other. I was informed that the Chippeway language was by far the most general, and that a person intimately acquainted with it would soon be able to acquire a tolerable knowledge of any other language spoken between the Ohio and Lake Superior. Some persons, who have made the Indian languages their study, assert, that all the different languages spoken by those tribes, with which we have any connection, are but dialects of three primitive tongues, viz. the Huron, the Algonquin, and the Sioux; the two former of which, being well understood, will enable a person to converse, at least slightly, with the Indians of any tribe in Canada or the United States. All the nations that speak a language derived from the Sioux, have, it is said, a hissing pronunciation; those who speak one derived from the Huron, have a guttural pronunciation; and such as speak any one derived from the Algonquin, pronounce their words with greater softness and ease than any of the others. Whether this be a just distinction or not I cannot pretend to determine; I shall only observe, that all the Indian men I ever met with, as well those whose language is said to be derived from the Huron, as those whose language is derived from the Algonquin, appear to me to have very few labial sounds in their language, and to pronounce the words from the throat, but not so much from the upper as the lower part of the throat towards the breast. A slight degree of hesitation is observable in their speech, and they articulate seemingly with difficulty, and in a manner somewhat similar to what a person, I should suppose, would be apt to do if he had a great weight laid on his chest, or had received a blow on his breast or back so violent as to affect his breath. The women, on the contrary, speak with the utmost ease, and the language, as pronounced by them, appears as soft as the Italian. They have, without exception, the most delicate harmonious voices I ever heard, and the most pleasing gentle laugh that it is possible to conceive. I have oftentimes sat amongst a group of them for an hour or two together, merely for the pleasure of listening to their conversation, on account of its wonderful softness and delicacy.

The Indians, both men and women, speak with great deliberation, and never appear to be at a loss for words to express their sentiments.

[Sidenote: INDIAN MUSIC.]

The native music of the Indians is very rude and indifferent, and equally devoid of melody and variety. Their famous war song is nothing better than an insipid recitative. Singing and dancing with them go hand in hand; and when a large number of them, collected together, join in the one song, the few wild notes of which it consists, mingled with the sound of their pipes and drums, sometimes produce, when heard at a distance, a pleasing effect on the ear; but it is then and then only that their music is tolerable.

The first night of our arrival at Malden, just as we were retiring to rest, near midnight, we were most agreeably entertained in this manner with the sound of their music on the island of Bois Blanc. Eager to hear more of it, and to be witness to their dancing, we procured a boat, and immediately crossed the river to the spot where they were assembled. Three elderly men, seated under a tree, were the principal musicians. One of these beat a small drum, formed of a piece of a hollow tree covered with a skin, and the two others marked time equally with the drum, with rattles formed of dried squashes or gourds filled with pease. At the same time these men sung, indeed they were the leaders of the song, which the dancers joined in. The dancers consisted solely of a party of squaws, to the number of twenty or thereabouts, who, standing in a circle, with their faces inwards and their hands folded round each other’s necks, moved, thus linked together, sideways, with close short steps, round a small fire. The men and women never dance together, unless indeed a pretty squaw be introduced by some young fellow into one of the men’s dances, which is considered as a very great mark of favour. This is of a piece with the general conduct of the Indians, who look upon the women in a totally different light from what we do in Europe, and condemn them as slaves to do all the drudgery. I have seen a young chief with no less than three women attendant on him to run after his arrows, when he was amusing himself with shooting squirrels; I have also seen Indians, when moving for a few miles from one place to another, mount their horses and canter away at their ease, whilst their women were left not only to walk, but to carry very heavy loads on their backs after them.

[Sidenote: INDIAN DANCES.]

After the women had danced for a time, a larger fire was kindled, and the men assembled from different parts of the island, to the number of fifty or sixty, to amuse themselves in their turn. There was little more variety in their dancing than in that of the women. They first walked round the fire in a large circle, closely, one after another, marking time with short steps to the music; the best dancer was put at their head, and gave the step; he was also the principal singer in the circle. After having made one round, the step was altered to a wider one, and they began to stamp with great vehemence upon the ground; and every third or fourth round, making little leaps off the ground with both feet, they turned their faces to the fire and bowed their heads, at the same time going on sideways. At last, having made a dozen or two rounds, towards the end of which each one of them had begun to stamp on the ground with inconceivable fury, but more particularly the principal dancer, they all gave a loud shout at once, and the dance ended.

In two or three minutes another dance was begun, which ended as soon, and nearly in the same way as the other. There was but little difference in the figures of any of them, and the only material difference in the songs was, that in some of them the dancers, instead of singing the whole of the air, came in simply with responses to the airs sung by the old men. They beckoned to us to join them in their dance, which we immediately did, as it was likely to please them, and we remained on the island with them till two or three o’clock in the morning. There is something inconceivably terrible in the sight of a number of Indians dancing thus round a fire in the depths of thick woods, and the loud shrieks at the end of every dance adds greatly to the horror which their first appearance inspires.

Scarcely a night passed over but what there were dances, similar to those I have described, on the island. They never think of dancing till the night is considerably advanced, and they keep it up till day-break. In the day time they lie sleeping in the sun, or sit smoking tobacco, that is, when they have nothing particular to engage them. Though the most diligent persevering people in the world when roused into action, yet when at peace with their neighbours, and having got wherewith to satisfy the calls of hunger, they are the most slothful and indolent possible.

The dances mentioned are such as the Indians amuse themselves with in common. On grand occasions they have a variety of others much more interesting to a spectator. The dances which you see in common amongst the Shawnese, and certain other tribes, are also, it is said, much more entertaining than those I have described. There were several families of the Shawnese encamped on the island of Bois Blanc when we were there; but as there was not a sufficient number to form a dance by themselves, we were never gratified with a sight of their performances.

[Sidenote: WAR DANCE.]

Of their grand dances the war dance must undoubtedly, from every account I have received of it, for I never had any opportunity of seeing it myself, be the one most worthy the attention of a stranger. It is performed both on setting out and returning from their war parties, and likewise at other times, but never except on some very particular and solemn occasion. The chiefs and warriors who are about to join in this dance dress and paint themselves as if actually out on a warlike expedition, and they carry in their hands their warlike weapons. Being assembled, they seat themselves down on their hams, in a circle, round a great fire, near to which is placed a large post; after remaining a short time in this position, one of the principal chiefs rises, and placing himself in the center, begins to rehearse, in a sort of recitative, all the gallant actions which he has ever performed; he dwells particularly on the number of enemies he has killed, and describes the manner in which he scalped them, making gestures all the time, and brandishing his weapons, as if actually engaged in performing the horrid operation. At the end of every remarkable story he strikes his war club on the post with great fury. Every chief and warrior tells of his deeds in turn. The song of one warrior often occupies several hours, and the dance itself sometimes lasts for three or four entire days and nights. During this period no one is allowed to sleep, a person who stands at the outside of the circle being appointed (whose business it is) to rouse any warrior that appears in the least drowsy. A deer, a bear, or some other large animal is put to roast at the fire as soon as the dance begins, and while it lasts each warrior rises at will to help himself to a piece of it. After each person in the circle has in turn told of his exploits, they all rise, and join in a dance truly terrifying; they throw themselves into a variety of postures, and leaping about in the most frantic manner, brandish their knives and other weapons; at the same time they set up the war hoop, and utter the most dreadful yells imaginable. In this manner the dance terminates.

[Sidenote: INDIAN FLUTE.]

The Indian flute or pipe is formed of a thick cane, similar to what is found on the banks of the Mississippi, and in the southern parts of the United States. It is about two feet or more in length, and has eight or nine holes in it, in one row. It is held in the same manner as the oboe or clarinet, and the sound is produced by means of a mouth piece not unlike that of a common whistle. The tones of the instrument are by no means unharmonious, and they would admit of a pleasing modulation, but I never met with an Indian that was able to play a regular air upon it, not even any one of the airs which they commonly sing, although I saw several that were extremely fond of amusing themselves with the instrument, and that would sit for hours together over the embers of their cabin fires, playing over a few wild melancholy notes. Every Indian that can bring a sound out of the instrument, and stop the holes, which any one may do, thinks himself master of it; and the notes which they commonly produce are as unconnected and unmeaning as those which a child would bring forth from a halfpenny whistle.

In addition to what I have said on the subject of the Indians, I shall only observe, that notwithstanding they are such a very friendly hospitable people, yet few persons, who had ever tasted of the pleasures and comforts of civilized life, would feel any inclination to reside amongst them, on becoming acquainted with their manner of living. The filthiness and wretchedness of their smoky habitations, the nauseousness of their common food to a person not even of a delicate palate, and their general uncleanliness, would be sufficient, I think, to deter any one from going to live amongst them from choice, supposing even that no other reasons operated against his doing so. For my own part, I had fully determined in my own mind, when I first came to America, not to leave the continent without spending a considerable time amongst them, in the interior parts of the country, in order to have an opportunity of observing their native manners and customs in their utmost purity; but the samples I have seen of them during my stay in this part of the country, although it has given me a most favourable opinion of the Indians themselves, has induced me to relinquish my purpose. Content therefore with what I have seen myself, and with what I have heard from others, if chance should not bring me again into their way in prosecuting my journey into the settled parts of the States, I shall take no further pains to cultivate a more intimate acquaintance with them.

_LETTER _ XXXVI.

_Departure from Malden.—Storm on Lake Erie.—Driven back amongst the Islands.—Shipwreck narrowly avoided.—Voyage across the Lake.—Land at Fort Erie.—Proceed to Buffalo Creek.—Engage Indians to go through the Woods.—Set out on Foot.—Journey through the Woods.—Description of the Country beyond Buffalo Creek.—Vast Plains.—Grand Appearance of the Trees here.—Indian Dogs.—Arrival at the Settlements on Genesee River.—First Settlers.—Their general Character.—Description of the Country bordering on Genesee River.—Fevers common in Autumn.—Proceed on Foot to Bath._

Bath, November.

[Sidenote: DEPARTURE FROM MALDEN.]

TOWARDS the latter end of the month of October, the schooner in which we had engaged a passage to Presqu’ Isle made her appearance before Malden, where she was obliged to lay at anchor for three days, the wind not being favourable for going farther down the river; at the end of that time, however, it veered about, and we repaired on board, after having taken a long farewel of our friend Captain E——, whose kindness to us had been unbounded, and was doubly grateful, inasmuch as it was totally unexpected by us young strangers, who had not the slighted acquaintance with him previous to our coming into the country, and had not been introduced to him even by letter.

The wind, though favourable, was very light on the morning of our embarkation, but the current being strong we were soon carried down to the lake. In the afternoon we passed the islands, which had the most beautiful appearance imaginable. The rich woods with which the shores were adorned, now tinged with the hues of autumn, afforded in their decline a still more pleasing variety to the eye than when they were clothed in their fulled verdure; and their gaudy colours, intermingled with the shadows of the rocks, were seen fancifully reflected in the unruffled surface of the surrounding lake. At day-break the next morning we found ourselves entirely clear of the land; but instead of the azure sky and gentle breezes which had favoured us the preceding day, we had thick hazy weather, and every appearance in the heavens indicated that before many hours were over we should have to contend with some of those dangerous storms that are so frequent on Lake Erie. It was not long indeed ere the winds began to blow, and the waves to rise in a tremendous manner, and we soon became spectators of a number of those confused and disgusting scenes which a gale of wind never fails to occasion in a small vessel crowded with passengers. A number of old French ladies, who were going to see their grandchildren in Lower Canada, and who now for the first time in their lives found themselves on the water, occupied the cabin. The hold of the vessel, boarded from end to end, and divided simply by a sail suspended from one of the beams, was filled on one side with steerage passengers, amongst which were several women and children; and on the opposite one with passengers who had paid cabin price, but were unable to get any better accommodation, amongst which number was our party. Not including either the old ladies in the cabin, or the steerage passengers, we sat down to dinner each day twenty-six in number, which circumstance, when I inform you that the vessel was only seventy tons burthen, will best enable you to conceive how much we must have been crowded. The greater part of the passengers, drooping under sea-sickness, begged for heaven’s sake that the captain would put back; but bent upon performing his voyage with expedition, which was a matter of the utmost consequence indeed, now that the season was so far advanced, and there was a possibility that he might be blocked up by the ice on his return, he was deaf to their entreaties. What the earnest entreaties, however, of the passengers could not effect, the storm soon compelled him to. It was found absolutely necessary to seek for a place of shelter to avoid its fury; and accordingly the helm having been ordered up, we made the best of our way back again to the islands, in a bay between two of which we cast anchor. This bay, situated between the Bass Islands, which are among the largest in the cluster, is called, from its being so frequently resorted to by vessels that meet with contrary winds in going down the lake, Put-in-Bay, vulgarly termed by the sailors Pudding Bay.

[Sidenote: A STORM.]

Here we lay securely sheltered by the land until four o’clock the next morning, when the watch upon deck gave the alarm that the vessel was driving from her anchor, and going fast towards the shore. The captain started up, and perceiving that the wind had shifted, and the land no longer afforded any protection to the vessel, he immediately gave orders to slip the cable, and hoist the jib, in order to wear the vessel round, and thus get free, if possible, of the shore. In the hurry and confusion of the moment, however, the mainsail was hoisted at the same time with the jib, the vessel was put aback, and nothing could have saved her from going at once on shore but the letting fall of another anchor instantaneously. I can only account for this unfortunate mistake by supposing that the men were not sufficiently roused from their slumbers, on coming upon deck, to hear distinctly the word of command. Only one man had been left to keep the watch, as it was thought that the vessel was riding in perfect safety, and from the time that the alarm was first given until the anchor was dropped scarcely four minutes elapsed.