“My Friend,—The Great Spirit, who does everything that is good, has inclined your heart to be kind to us; and, first of all, we thank Him for it.“The Chief, White Cloud, who sits by me, directs me to say that we are also thankful to you for this notice you have taken of us, poor and ignorant people, and we shall recollect and not forget it.“We hope the Great Spirit will be kind to you all. I have no more to say.”
“My Friend,—The Great Spirit, who does everything that is good, has inclined your heart to be kind to us; and, first of all, we thank Him for it.
“The Chief, White Cloud, who sits by me, directs me to say that we are also thankful to you for this notice you have taken of us, poor and ignorant people, and we shall recollect and not forget it.
“We hope the Great Spirit will be kind to you all. I have no more to say.”
The simplicity of this natural appeal to the Great Spirit, and its close (in which they were commended by the poor and unenlightened Indian of the wilderness to the care and kindness of their God), seemed to create surprise in the minds of the audience, and to excite in the Indians’ behalf a deep and lively interest.
After the breakfast and conversation were over, thewhole party was kindly sent back by the same carriages, and the Indians returned in a state of perfect delight with the treatment they had met with, and the presents they had received.
PoorJim(the student and recorder) was anxious that I should write down the name ofWilliam Pennin his book, and also that of the gentleman who had just entertained us, that he might be able to repeat them correctly when he got back to the wilderness again, and have something to say about them.
We found on our return that the hour of another engagement was at hand, and carriages were soon prepared to take us to the button-factory of Messrs. Turner and Son, to which we had been kindly invited; and on our arrival we found ourselves most cordially received and entertained. The proprietor led the party through every room in his extensive establishment, and showed them the whole process of striking the buttons and medals from various dies, which pleased them very much, and, after showing and explaining to them all the different processes through which they passed in their manufacture, led them into his ware-room or magazine, where his stock on hand was exhibited, and package after package, and gross upon gross, of the most splendid and costly buttons were taken down, and by his own generous hand presented to them. These were suchbrilliant evidencesof kindness, and would be so ornamental to the splendid dresses which they and their wives were to have when they got home, that they looked upon them as more valuable than gold or silver. These were presented to them in the aggregate, and all carried in a heavy parcel by the interpreter; and when they had thanked the gentleman for his munificent liberality and got back to their rooms, a scene of great brilliancy and much interest and amusement was presented for an hour or two, while they had their treasures spread out, covering half of the floor on which they lodged, and making aper capitadivision of them.
In the midst of this exhilarating and dazzling scene, their old friendBobasheelamade his appearance, having just arrived from London on his way to Cornwall. He could not, he said, pass within a hundred miles of them without stopping to see them a few days, and smoke a pipe or two with them again.Bobasheelawas stopped at the door, notwithstanding their love for him; he could not step in without doing sacrilege with his muddy boots to the glittering carpet of buttons which they had formed on the floor, and upon which his eyes were staring, as he thought at the first glance they could have committed no less a trespass than to have plundered a jeweller’s shop. A way was soon opened for his feet to pass, and, having taken a hearty shake of the hand with all, he was offered a seat on the floor, and in a few moments found that an equal parcel was accumulating between his knees as in front of each, and that, instead of fourteen, they were now dividing them into fifteen parcels. This he objected to, and with much trouble got them to undo what they had done, and go back to the first regulation of dividing them equally amongst fourteen.
The Shakspeare Buildings afforded the Indians a fine promenade in its large portico overlooking the street, where all Birmingham passed before their eyes, giving them one of the most gratifying privileges they had had, and promising them a rich and boundless means of amusement; but their enjoyment of it was short, for the crowds that assembled in the streets became a hinderance to business, and they were denied the further privilege of their delightful look-out. They were therefore called in, and stayed in, and yet the crowd remained, and could not be dispersed, while their attention seemed fixed upon some object higher up than the portico, which led us at once to surmise its cause, and, searching for the old Doctor, he was not to be found: he was, of course, upon the pinnacle of the house, wrapped in his robe, smiling upon the crowd beneath him, and taking a contemplative gaze over the city and country that lay under his view. I could only get to him by following the intricatemazes through which the old lady (curatress) conducted me, and through which the Doctor said he had required several days of investigation to find his way, and which he had never succeeded in until just at that moment.
Under this rather painful embargo there was no satisfactory way of peeping into the amusements of the streets but by going down the stairs, which Jim and his ever-curious friend the Doctor used daily and almost hourly to do, and, standing in the hall, see all they could that was amusing, until the crowd became such that it was necessary to recall them to their room. On one of these occasions they had espied a miserably poor old woman, with her little child, both in rags, and begging for the means of existence. The pity of the kind old Doctor was touched, and he beckoned her to come to him, and held out some money; but fear was superior to want with her, and she refused to take the prize. The Doctor went for Daniel, who, at his request, prevailed upon the poor woman to come up to their room, by assuring her that they would not hurt her, and would give her much more than white people would. She came up with Daniel, and the Indians, all seated on the floor, lit a pipe as if going into the most profound council; and so they were, for with hearts sympathizing for the misery and poverty of this pitiable-looking object, a white woman and child starving to death amidst the thousands of white people all around her in their fine houses and with all their wealth, they were anxious to talk with her, and find out how it was that she should not be better taken care of. Jeffrey was called to interpret, and Melody,Bobasheela, Daniel, and myself, with two or three friends who happened to be with us at the time, were spectators of the scene that ensued. The War-chief told her not to be frightened nor to let her little child be so, for they were her friends; and the Doctor walked up to her, took his hand out from under his robe, put five shillings into hers, and stepped back. The poor woman curtsied several times, and, crossing her hands upon her breast, asshe retreated to the wall, thanked “his Honour” for his kindness. “The Lard be with your Honours for your loving kindness, and may the Lard of Haven bless you to al etarnity, for ee niver e thaught af sich threatment fram sich fraightful-lukin gantlemin as ee was a thakin you to ba.”
The War-chief then said to her, “There, you see, by the money we have been all of us giving out of our purses, that we wish to make you happy with your little child, that you may have something for it to eat; you see now that we don’t wish to hurt you, and we shall not; but we want to talk with you a little, and before we talk we always make our presents, if we have anything to give. We are here poor, and a great way from home, where we also have our little children to feed; but the Great Spirit has been kind to us, and we have enough to eat.” To this the Indians, who were passing the pipe around, all responded “How! how! how!”
The old chief then proceeded to ask the poor woman how she became so poor, and why the white people did not take care of her and her child. She replied that she had been in the workhouse, and her husband was there still; she described also the manner in which she had left it, and how she became a beggar in the streets. She said that when she and her husband were taken into the poorhouse they were not allowed to live together, and that she would rather die than live in that way any longer, or rather beg for something to eat in the streets as she was now doing; and as the cold weather was coming in, she expected her child and herself would be soon starved to death.
The poor Indians, women and all, looked upon this miserable shivering object of pity, in the midst of the wealth and luxuries of civilization, as a mystery they could not expound, and, giving way to impulses that they could feel and appreciate, the women opened their trunks to search for presents for the little child, and by White Cloud’s order filled her lap with cold meat and bread sufficient to lastthem for a day or two. The good old Doctor’s politeness and sympathy led him to the bottom of the stairs with her, where he made her understand by signs that every morning, when the sun was up to a place that he pointed to with his hand, if she would come, she would get food enough for herself and her little child as long as they stayed in Birmingham; and he recollected his promise, and made it his especial duty every morning to attend to his pensioners at the hour appointed.[27]
The moral to be drawn from all this was one of curious interest and results in the minds of the Indians, and a long conversation ensued amongst them, in whichDanieland their friendBobasheela(who were familiar with the sufferings and modes of treatment of the poor) took part, and which, as Melody and I had withdrawn, afterwards gave us some cause to regret that such a pitiable object of charity had been brought into their presence for the temporary relief they could give her, and which resulted in so glaring an account of the sum total of misery and poverty that was constantly about them, of the extent of which we both began to think it would have been better to have kept them ignorant. Daniel andBobasheelahad opened their eyes to the system of poorhouses and other public establishments for the employment and protection of the poor; and until this account, which was already entered inJim’sbook, had been given them by these two knowing politicians, they had but little idea of this enormous item that was to go into the scales in weighing the blessings of civilization.
Almost daily visits were now being made to their private rooms by parties of ladies and gentlemen of the Society ofFriends, with whom they were rapidly advancing into the most interesting acquaintance, and which I observed it was affording Mr. Melody almost unspeakable satisfaction to behold. They were kindly invited to several houses, and treated at their tables with the greatest friendship. Of these, there was one visit that it would be wrong for me to overlook and to neglect to give here the notes that I made of it at the time.
A note was written to me in a bold and legible hand by Miss Catherine Hutton, desiring to know “at what hour it would be suitable for her to come from her house, a few miles out of town, to see the Indians (for whom she had always had a great love), so as not to meet a crowd, for her health was not very good, being in the ninety-first year of her age.” This venerable and most excellent lady I held in the highest respect, from a correspondence I had held with her on the subject of the Indians ever since I had been in England, though I never had seen her. Her letters had always teemed with love and kindness for these benighted people, and also with thanks to me for having done so much as I had for their character and history. I therefore deemed it proper to respond to her kindness by proposing to take the whole party to her house and pay her the visit. Her note was answered with that proposition, which gave her great pleasure, and we took a carriage and went to her delightful residence.
We were received with unbounded kindness by this most excellent and remarkable lady, and spent a couple of hours under her hospitable roof with great satisfaction to ourselves, and with much pleasure to her, as her letter to me on the following day fully evinced.[28]After a personal introductionto each one in turn, as she desired, and half an hour’s conversation, they were invited into an adjoining room to a breakfast-table loaded with the luxuries she had thought most grateful to their tastes. This finished, another half-hour or more was passed in the most interesting conversation, containing her questions and their answers, and her Christian advice to prepare their minds for the world to which, said she, “we must all go soon, and, for myself, I am just going, and am ready.” When we were about to take our leave of her, she called each one up in succession, and, having a quantity of money in silver half-crowns placed on the sofa by her side, she dealt it out to them as they came up, shaking hands at the same time and bidding each one a lasting farewell, embracing each of the women and children in her arms and kissing them as she took leave. This kindness melted their hearts to tears, and brought oldNeu-mon-ya(the War-chief) up before her at full length, to make the following remarks:—
“My Friend,—The Great Spirit has opened your heart to feel a friendship for the red people, and we are thankful to Him for it. We have been happy to see your face to-day, and our hearts will never forget your kindness. You have put a great deal of money into our hands, which will helpto feed our little children, and the Great Spirit will not forget this when you go before him.“My kind Mother,—You are very old. Your life has been good; and the Great Spirit has allowed you to live to see us; and He will soon call you to Him. We live a great way from here, and we shall not look upon your face again in this world; though we all believe that, if we behave well enough, we shall see your face in the world to come.”
“My Friend,—The Great Spirit has opened your heart to feel a friendship for the red people, and we are thankful to Him for it. We have been happy to see your face to-day, and our hearts will never forget your kindness. You have put a great deal of money into our hands, which will helpto feed our little children, and the Great Spirit will not forget this when you go before him.
“My kind Mother,—You are very old. Your life has been good; and the Great Spirit has allowed you to live to see us; and He will soon call you to Him. We live a great way from here, and we shall not look upon your face again in this world; though we all believe that, if we behave well enough, we shall see your face in the world to come.”
The chief here stopped, and, shaking her hand again, withdrew. The excellent lady was overwhelmed in tears, and called to her maid, “Betty, bring all the silver that I left in the drawer there; bring the whole of it and divide it among them; my eyes are so weak that I cannot see it—give it to them, dear creatures! May God bless their dear souls!” Such had been the meeting, and such were her parting words as we came away.
The Indians continued to speak in terms of the greatest admiration of this kind old lady, and the certainty that they should never see her face again made them for some days contemplative and sad. They had many civilities extended to them in town, however, which were calculated to dissipate melancholy and contemplation. Their repeated visits to the house and the table of Doctor Percy were exceedingly pleasing to them, where they were amused with experiments in electricity and galvanism, and other chemical results, to them new, and far beyond the reach of their comprehensions.
Their days and nights were now passing away very pleasantly, visited by and visiting so many kind friends, doing all they could to make them happy—giving their nightly amusements at the Shakspearian Rooms, and enjoying the society and western jokes of their old friendBobasheela, and, after their dinners and suppers, their other old friend,chickabobboo.
About this time some very kindly-disposed friends proposed that a couple of nights of their exhibitions should be given in the immense room of the Town-hall, and one half of the receipts be presented to the two hospitals, representing that upon such conditions they thought the use of the hallwould be granted free of expense, and believing that the results would be beneficial to both parties. Mr. Melody and I at once consented, and, the entertainments on those two nights being for a charitable purpose, the crowds that came in were very great, and the receipts beyond what we expected, the profits being 145l.12s., the half of which, 72l.16s., the Ioways presented to the two hospitals, and on the following day were invited to attend at the Town-hall at eleven o’clock in the morning, to receive an acknowledgment of it from the venerable Presidents of the two institutions, and to hear an address which was prepared to be read and given to them. The Indians met the two kind and excellent gentlemen (both of whom were Friends), and many others, both ladies and gentlemen, of their society; and seeing the results of this meeting likely to be of a very interesting nature, I took pains to make notes of all that was said on the occasion. The venerable Mr. R. T. Cadbury, from the General Hospital, in a very impressive manner, and suited to their understandings, explained to the Indians, through their interpreter, the purpose for which the hospital was built and carried on, after which he read the following resolution, which had been passed at the weekly meeting of the Board of Governors on the preceding day:—
“Resolved,—That the Chairman be requested to present the thanks of this Board to Mr. Catlin, Mr. Melody, and the Ioway Indians, for the donation of 36l.8s., being a moiety of the net proceeds of two exhibitions made for the benefit of the two hospitals at the Town-hall; and to assure them their generous gift shall be faithfully applied to the relief of the sick and maimed, for whose benefit the said hospital was instituted, and for sixty-five years has been supported by voluntary donations and subscriptions.”
“Resolved,—That the Chairman be requested to present the thanks of this Board to Mr. Catlin, Mr. Melody, and the Ioway Indians, for the donation of 36l.8s., being a moiety of the net proceeds of two exhibitions made for the benefit of the two hospitals at the Town-hall; and to assure them their generous gift shall be faithfully applied to the relief of the sick and maimed, for whose benefit the said hospital was instituted, and for sixty-five years has been supported by voluntary donations and subscriptions.”
After reading this, Mr. Cadbury presented to each of them a copy of the annual report and rules of the institution, and expressed a hope that all of them would reach their distant homes in safety, and that their visit to this country would be beneficial to them.
The chief,White Cloud, shook hands with Mr. Cadbury, and replied as follows:—
“My Friend,—I have very few remarks to make to you. We are all very thankful to you for the speech you have made to us, and for the prayer you have made that we may all reach home safe. Those words pleased all my people here very much, and we thank you for them.“My Friend,—We have now been some time in England, and, amongst all the words of friendship we have heard, nothing has been more pleasing to us than the words we have heard from your lips. We have seen some of the greatest men in this country, and none have delighted us so much as you have by the way in which you have spoken; and we believe that the service we have rendered to the hospital will be looked on with mutual satisfaction.“My Friend,—The Americans have been long trying to civilize us, and we now begin to see the advantages of it, and hope the Government of the United States will do us some good. I hope some of the people of my nation will place their children with white people, that they may see how the white children live.“My Friend,—I have nothing more to say, but to thank you.”
“My Friend,—I have very few remarks to make to you. We are all very thankful to you for the speech you have made to us, and for the prayer you have made that we may all reach home safe. Those words pleased all my people here very much, and we thank you for them.
“My Friend,—We have now been some time in England, and, amongst all the words of friendship we have heard, nothing has been more pleasing to us than the words we have heard from your lips. We have seen some of the greatest men in this country, and none have delighted us so much as you have by the way in which you have spoken; and we believe that the service we have rendered to the hospital will be looked on with mutual satisfaction.
“My Friend,—The Americans have been long trying to civilize us, and we now begin to see the advantages of it, and hope the Government of the United States will do us some good. I hope some of the people of my nation will place their children with white people, that they may see how the white children live.
“My Friend,—I have nothing more to say, but to thank you.”
After the speech of White Cloud, Mr. J. Cadbury, at the head of a deputation from the “Temperance Society” (to which the Indians had sent also the sum of 36l.8s.), presented himself, and read an address from that association, thanking them for the amount received, and advising the Indians to abstain from the use of “fire-water” and to practisecharity, which was one of the greatest of virtues.
Mr. Cadbury then addressed the Indians, in all the fervency and earnestness of prayer, on the all-important subject of temperance. His words and sentences, selected for their simple understandings, were in the simplicity, and consequently the eloquence of nature, and seemed to win their highest admiration and attention. He painted to them in vivid colours the horrors and vice of intemperance, and its consequences; and also the beauty and loveliness of sobriety, and truth, and charity, which he hoped and should pray that they might practise in the wilderness, with constant prayers to the Great Spirit in the heavens, when they returned to their own country.
When this venerable gentleman’s remarks were finished, the old Doctor (or Medicine-man) arose from his seat upon the floor, with his pipe in his lips, and, advancing, shook handswith the two Messrs. Cadbury, and, handing his pipe to the chief, spoke as follows:—
“My Friends,—I rise to thank you for the words you have spoken to us: they have been kind, and we are thankful for them.“My Friends,—When I am at home in the wilderness, as well as when I am amongst you, I always pray to the Great Spirit; and I believe the chiefs and the warriors of my tribe, and even the women also, pray every day to the Great Spirit, and He has therefore been very kind to us.“My Friends,—We have been this day taken by the hand in friendship, and this gives us great consolation. Your friendly words have opened our ears, and your words of advice will not be forgotten.“My Friends,—You have advised us to be charitable to the poor, and we have this day handed you 360 dollars to help the poor in your hospitals. We have not time to see those poor people, but we know you will make good use of the money for them; and we shall be happy if, by our coming this way, we shall have made the poor comfortable.“My Friends,—We Indians are poor, and we cannot do much charity. The Great Spirit has been kind to us though since we came to this country, and we have given altogether more than 200 dollars to the poor people in the streets of London before we came here; and I need not tell you that this is not the first day that we have given to the poor in this city.“My Friends,—If we were rich, like many white men in this country, the poor people we see around the streets in this cold weather, with their little children barefooted and begging, would soon get enough to eat, and clothes to keep them warm.“My Friends,—It has made us unhappy to see the poor people begging for something to eat since we came to this country. In our country we are all poor, but the poor all have enough to eat, and clothes to keep them warm. We have seen your poorhouses, and been in them, and we think them very good; but we think there should be more of them, and that the rich men should pay for them.“My Friends,—We admit that before we left home we all were fond of ‘fire-water,’ but in this country we have not drunk it. Your words are good, and we know it is a great sin to drink it. Your words to us on that subject, can do but little good, for we are but a few; but if you can tell them to the white people, who make the ‘fire-water,’ and bring it into our country to sell, and can tell them also to the thousands whom we see drunk with it in this country, then we think you may do a great deal of good; and we believe the Great Spirit will reward you for it.“My Friends,—It makes us unhappy, in a country where there is so much wealth, to see so many poor and hungry, and so many as we see drunk. We know you are good people, and kind to the poor, and we give you our hands at parting; praying that the Great Spirit will assist you in taking care of the poor, and making people sober.“My Friends,—I have no more to say.”
“My Friends,—I rise to thank you for the words you have spoken to us: they have been kind, and we are thankful for them.
“My Friends,—When I am at home in the wilderness, as well as when I am amongst you, I always pray to the Great Spirit; and I believe the chiefs and the warriors of my tribe, and even the women also, pray every day to the Great Spirit, and He has therefore been very kind to us.
“My Friends,—We have been this day taken by the hand in friendship, and this gives us great consolation. Your friendly words have opened our ears, and your words of advice will not be forgotten.
“My Friends,—You have advised us to be charitable to the poor, and we have this day handed you 360 dollars to help the poor in your hospitals. We have not time to see those poor people, but we know you will make good use of the money for them; and we shall be happy if, by our coming this way, we shall have made the poor comfortable.
“My Friends,—We Indians are poor, and we cannot do much charity. The Great Spirit has been kind to us though since we came to this country, and we have given altogether more than 200 dollars to the poor people in the streets of London before we came here; and I need not tell you that this is not the first day that we have given to the poor in this city.
“My Friends,—If we were rich, like many white men in this country, the poor people we see around the streets in this cold weather, with their little children barefooted and begging, would soon get enough to eat, and clothes to keep them warm.
“My Friends,—It has made us unhappy to see the poor people begging for something to eat since we came to this country. In our country we are all poor, but the poor all have enough to eat, and clothes to keep them warm. We have seen your poorhouses, and been in them, and we think them very good; but we think there should be more of them, and that the rich men should pay for them.
“My Friends,—We admit that before we left home we all were fond of ‘fire-water,’ but in this country we have not drunk it. Your words are good, and we know it is a great sin to drink it. Your words to us on that subject, can do but little good, for we are but a few; but if you can tell them to the white people, who make the ‘fire-water,’ and bring it into our country to sell, and can tell them also to the thousands whom we see drunk with it in this country, then we think you may do a great deal of good; and we believe the Great Spirit will reward you for it.
“My Friends,—It makes us unhappy, in a country where there is so much wealth, to see so many poor and hungry, and so many as we see drunk. We know you are good people, and kind to the poor, and we give you our hands at parting; praying that the Great Spirit will assist you in taking care of the poor, and making people sober.
“My Friends,—I have no more to say.”
Temperance medals were then given to each of the Indians, and the deputation took leave.
A council was held that evening in the Indians’ apartments, and several pipes smoked, during which time the conversation ran upon numerous topics, the first of which was the interesting meeting they had held that day, and on several former occasions, with the Friends, and which good people they were about to leave, and they seemed fearful they should meet none others in their travels. They were passing their comments upon the vast numbers which Daniel andBobasheelahad told them there actually were of poor people shut up in the poorhouses, besides those in the streets, and underground in the coal-pits; and concluded that the numerous clergymen they had to preach to them, and to keep them honest and sober, were not too many, but they thought they even ought to have more, and should at least keep all they had at home, instead of sending them to preach to the Indians.Jimwas busy poring over his note-book, and getting Daniel to put down in round numbers the amount of poor in the poorhouses and in the streets, which they had found in some newspaper. And he was anxious to have down without any mistake the large sum of money they had presented to the hospitals, so that when they got home they could tell of the charity they had done in England; and if ever they got so poor as to have to beg, they would have a good paper to beg with. The sum, in American currency (as they know less of pounds, shillings, and pence), amounted to the respectable one of 370 dollars.
This last night’s talk in Birmingham was rather a gloomy one, for it was after leave had been taken of all friends.Bobasheelawas to start in the morning for Liverpool, and I for London, where I had been summoned to attend as a witness in court, and Mr. Melody and the Indians were to leave for Nottingham and other towns in the north. So at a late hour we parted, and early in the morning set out for our different destinations, bearing with us many warmattachments formed during our short stay in the beautiful town of Birmingham.
For what befel these good fellows in Nottingham and Leeds there will probably be no historian, as I was not with them. I commenced with them in York, where I became again the expounder of their habits and mysteries, and was delighted to meet them on classic ground, where there is so much to engage the attention and admiration of civilized or savage. I had visited York on a former occasion, and had the most ardent wish to be present at this time, and to conduct these rude people into the noble cathedral, and on to its grand tower. I had this pleasure; and in it accomplished one of my favourite designs in accompanying them on their northern tour.
On my return from London I had joined the Indians at Leeds, where they had been exhibiting for some days, and found them just ready to start for York. I was their companion by the railway, therefore, to that ancient and venerable city; and made a note or two on an occurrence of an amusing nature which happened on the way. When we were within a few miles of the town the Indians were suddenly excited and startled by the appearance of a party of fox-hunters, forty or fifty in number, following their pack in full cry, having just crossed the track ahead of the train.
This was a subject entirely new to them and unthought of by the Indians; and, knowing that English soldiers all wore red coats, they were alarmed, their first impression being that we had brought them on to hostile ground, and that this was a “war-party” in pursuit of their enemy. They were relieved and excessively amused when I told them it was merely a fox-hunt, and that the gentlemen they saw riding were mostly noblemen and men of great influence and wealth. They watched them intensely until they were out of sight, and made many amusing remarks about them after we had arrived at York. I told them they rode without guns, and the first one in at the death pulled off thetail of the fox and rode into town with it under his hatband. Their laughter was excessive at the idea of “such gentlemen hunting in open fields, and with a whip instead of a gun; and that great chiefs, as I had pronounced them, should be risking their lives, and the limbs of their fine horses, for a poor fox, the flesh of which, even if it were good to eat, was not wanted by such rich people, who had meat enough at home; and the skin of which could not be worth so much trouble, especially when, as everybody knows, it is good for nothing when the tail is pulled off.”
On our arrival in York one of the first and most often repeated questions which they put was, whether there were any of the “good people,” as they now called them, the Friends, living there. I told them it was a place where a great many of them lived, and no doubt many would come to see them, which seemed to please and encourage them very much. Mr. Melody having taken rooms for them near to the York Minster, of which they had a partial view from their windows, their impatience became so great that we sallied out the morning after our arrival to pay the first visit to that grand and venerable pile. The reader has doubtless seen or read of this sublime edifice, and I need not attempt to describe it here. Were it in my power to portray the feelings which agitated the breasts of these rude people when they stood before this stupendous fabric of human hands, and as they passed through its aisles, amid its huge columns, and under its grand arches, I should be glad to do it; but those feelings which they enjoyed in the awful silence, were for none but themselves to know. We all followed the guide, who showed and explained to us all that was worth seeing below, and then showed us the way by which we were to reach the summit of the grand or middle tower, where the whole party arrived after a laborious ascent of 273 steps. We had luckily selected a clear day; and the giddy height from which we gazed upon the town under our feet, and the lovely landscape in the distance all aroundus, afforded to the Indians a view far more wonderful than their eyes had previously beheld. Whilst we were all engaged in looking upon the various scenes that lay like the lines upon a map beneath us, the old Doctor, with hispropensitywhich has been spoken of before, had succeeded in getting a little higher than any of the rest of the party, by climbing on to the little house erected over the gangway through which we entered upon the roof; and, upon the pinnacle of this, for a while stood smiling down upon the thousands of people who were gathering in the streets. He was at length, however, seen to assume a more conspicuous attitude by raising his head and his eyes towards the sky, and for some moments he devoutly addressed himself to the Great Spirit, whom the Indians always contemplate as “in the heavens, above the clouds.” When he had finished this invocation, he slowly and carefully “descended on to the roof, and as he joined his friends he observed that when he was up there “he was nearer to the Great Spirit than he had ever been before.” The War-chief excited much merriment by his sarcastic reply, that “it was a pity he did not stay there, for he would never be so near the Great Spirit again.” The Doctor had no way of answering this severe retort, except by a silent smile, as, with his head turned away, he gazed on the beautiful landscape beneath him. When we descended from the tower, the Indians desired to advance again to the centre of this grand edifice, where they stood for a few minutes with their hands covering their mouths, as they gazed upon the huge columns around them and the stupendous arches over their heads, and at last came silently away, and I believe inspired with greater awe and respect for the religion of white men than they had ever felt before.
Our stay of three days in York was too short for the Indians to make many acquaintances; but at their exhibitions they saw many of the Society of Friends, and these, as in other places, came forward to offer them their hands and invite them to their houses.
Amongst the invitations they received was one from the governor of the Castle, who with great kindness conducted us through the various apartments of the prison, explaining the whole of its system and discipline to us. We were shown the various cells for different malefactors, with their inmates in them, which no doubt conveyed to the minds of the Indians new ideas of white men’s iniquities, and the justice of civilized laws.
When we were withdrawing we were invited to examine a little museum of weapons which had been used by various convicts to commit the horrid deeds for which they had suffered death or transportation. A small room, surrounded by a wire screen, was devoted to these, and as it was unlocked we were invited in, and found one wall of the room completely covered with these shocking records of crime.
The turnkey to this room stepped in, and in a spirit of the greatest kindness, with a rod in his hand to point with, commenced to explain them, and of course add to their interest, in the following manner:—
“You see here, gentlemen, the weapons that have been used in the commission of murders by persons who have been tried and hung in this place, or transported for life. That long gun which you see there is the identical gun that Dyon shot his father with.He was hung.“That club and iron coulter you see there, gentlemen, were used by two highwaymen, who killed the gatekeeper, near Sheffield, by knocking out his brains, and afterwards robbed him.They were both hung.“This club and razor here, gentlemen (you see the blood on the razor now), were used by Thompson, who killed his wife. He knocked her down with this club, and cut her throat with this identical razor.“This leather strap—gentlemen, do you see it? Well, this strap was taken from a calf’s neck by Benjamin Holrough, and he hung his father with it.He was hung here.“That hedging-bill, razor, and tongs, gentlemen, were the things used by Healy and Terry, who knocked an old woman down, cut her throat, and buried her.They were hung in this prison.“Now, gentlemen, we come to that hammer and razor you see there. With that same hammer Mary Crowther knocked her husband down, and then with that razor cut his throat.She was hung.“Do you see that club, gentlemen? That is the club with which Turnerand Swihill, only nineteen years of age, murdered the bookkeeper near Sheffield.Both were hung.“Do you see this short gun, gentlemen? This is the very gun with which Dobson shot his father.He was hung.“This hat, gentlemen, with a hole in it, was the hat of Johnson, who was murdered near Sheffield. The hole you see is where the blow was struck that killed him.”
“You see here, gentlemen, the weapons that have been used in the commission of murders by persons who have been tried and hung in this place, or transported for life. That long gun which you see there is the identical gun that Dyon shot his father with.He was hung.
“That club and iron coulter you see there, gentlemen, were used by two highwaymen, who killed the gatekeeper, near Sheffield, by knocking out his brains, and afterwards robbed him.They were both hung.
“This club and razor here, gentlemen (you see the blood on the razor now), were used by Thompson, who killed his wife. He knocked her down with this club, and cut her throat with this identical razor.
“This leather strap—gentlemen, do you see it? Well, this strap was taken from a calf’s neck by Benjamin Holrough, and he hung his father with it.He was hung here.
“That hedging-bill, razor, and tongs, gentlemen, were the things used by Healy and Terry, who knocked an old woman down, cut her throat, and buried her.They were hung in this prison.
“Now, gentlemen, we come to that hammer and razor you see there. With that same hammer Mary Crowther knocked her husband down, and then with that razor cut his throat.She was hung.
“Do you see that club, gentlemen? That is the club with which Turnerand Swihill, only nineteen years of age, murdered the bookkeeper near Sheffield.Both were hung.
“Do you see this short gun, gentlemen? This is the very gun with which Dobson shot his father.He was hung.
“This hat, gentlemen, with a hole in it, was the hat of Johnson, who was murdered near Sheffield. The hole you see is where the blow was struck that killed him.”
The Indians, who had looked on these things and listened to these recitals with a curious interest at first, were now becoming a little uneasy, and the old Doctor, who smiled upon several of the first descriptions, now showed symptoms of evident disquiet, retreating behind the party, and towards the door.
“Do you see this knife and bloody cravat, gentlemen? With that same knife John James stuck the bailiff through the cravat, and killed him.He was executed here.“A fire-poker, gentlemen, with which King murdered his wife near Sheffield.He was hung here.“These things, gentlemen—this fork, poker, and bloody shoes—with this poker Hallet knocked his wife down, and stabbed her with the fork; and the shoes have got the blood on them yet.Hallet was hung.“That rope there is the one in which Bardsley was hung, who killed his own father.“A bloody axe and poker, gentlemen. With that axe and poker an old woman killed a little boy. She then drowned herself.She was not executed.“This shoe-knife, gentlemen, is one that Robert Noll killed his wife with in Sheffield.He was executed.“Another knife, with which Rogers killed a man in Sheffield. He ripped his bowels out with it.He was hung.“A club, and stone, and hat, gentlemen. With this club and stone Blackburn was murdered, and that was his hat: you see how it is all broken and bloody. This was done by four men.All hung.“The hat and hammer here, gentlemen—these belonged to two robbers. One met the other in a wood, and killed him with the hammer.He was hung.“That scythe and pitchfork, you see, gentlemen”——
“Do you see this knife and bloody cravat, gentlemen? With that same knife John James stuck the bailiff through the cravat, and killed him.He was executed here.
“A fire-poker, gentlemen, with which King murdered his wife near Sheffield.He was hung here.
“These things, gentlemen—this fork, poker, and bloody shoes—with this poker Hallet knocked his wife down, and stabbed her with the fork; and the shoes have got the blood on them yet.Hallet was hung.
“That rope there is the one in which Bardsley was hung, who killed his own father.
“A bloody axe and poker, gentlemen. With that axe and poker an old woman killed a little boy. She then drowned herself.She was not executed.
“This shoe-knife, gentlemen, is one that Robert Noll killed his wife with in Sheffield.He was executed.
“Another knife, with which Rogers killed a man in Sheffield. He ripped his bowels out with it.He was hung.
“A club, and stone, and hat, gentlemen. With this club and stone Blackburn was murdered, and that was his hat: you see how it is all broken and bloody. This was done by four men.All hung.
“The hat and hammer here, gentlemen—these belonged to two robbers. One met the other in a wood, and killed him with the hammer.He was hung.
“That scythe and pitchfork, you see, gentlemen”——
When our guide had thus far explained, and Jeffrey had translated to the Indians, I observed the old Doctor quite outside of the museum-room, and with his robe wrapped close around him, casting his eyes around in all directions, and evidently in great uneasiness. He called for the party tocome out, for, said he, “I do not think this is a good place for us to stay in any longer.” We all thought it was as well, for the turnkey had as yet not described one-third of his curiosities; so we thanked him for his kindness, and took leave of him and his interesting museum.
We were then conducted by the governor’s request to the apartments of his family, where he and his kind lady and daughters received the Indians and ourselves with much kindness, having his table prepared with refreshments, and, much to the satisfaction of the Indians (after their fatigue of body as well as of mind), with plenty of theQueen’s chickabobboo.
The sight-seeing of this day and the exhibition at night finished our labours in the interesting town of York, where I have often regretted we did not remain a little longer to avail ourselves of the numerous and kind invitations which were extended to us before we left. After our labours were all done, and the Indians had enjoyed their suppers and theirchickabobboo, we had a pipe together, and a sort of recapitulation of what we had seen and heard since we arrived. The two most striking subjects of the gossip of this evening were the cathedral and the prison; the one seemed to have filled their minds with astonishment and admiration at the ingenuity and power of civilized man, and the other with surprise and horror at his degradation and wickedness; and evidently with some alarm for the safety of their persons in such a vicinity of vice as they had reason to believe they were in from the evidences they had seen during the day. The poor old Doctor was so anxious for the next morning to dawn, that we might be on our way, that he had become quite nervous and entirely contemplative and unsociable. They had heard such a catalogue of murders and executions explained, though they knew that we had but begun with the list, and saw so many incarcerated in the prison, some awaiting their trial, others who had been convicted and were under sentence of death or transportation, and others again pining intheir cells, and weeping for their wives and children (merely because they could not pay the money that they owed), that they became horrified and alarmed; and as it was the first place where they had seen an exhibition of this kind, there was some reason for the poor fellows’ opinions that they were in the midst of the wickedest place in the world.
They said that, from the grandeur and great number of their churches, they thought they ought to be one of the most honest and harmless people they had been amongst, but instead of that they were now convinced they must be the very worst, and the quicker Mr. Melody made arrangements to be off the better. The Indians had been objects of great interest, and for the three nights of their amusements their room was well filled and nightly increasing; but all arguments were in vain, and we must needs be on the move. I relieved their minds in a measure relative to the instruments of death they had seen and the executions of which they had heard an account, by informing them of a fact that had not occurred to them—that the number of executions mentioned had been spread over a great number of years, and were for crimes committed amongst some hundreds of thousands of inhabitants, occupying a tract of country a great many miles in every direction from York; and also that the poor men imprisoned for debt were from various parts of the country for a great distance around. This seemed to abate their surprise to a considerable degree; still, the first impression was here made, and made by means of their eyes (which they say they never disbelieve, and I am quite sure they will never get rid of it), that York was the “wicked town,” as they continued to call it during the remainder of their European travels. I explained to them that other towns had their jails and their gallows—that in London they daily rode in their buss past prison walls, and where the numbers imprisoned were greater than those in York, in proportion to the greater size of the city.
Their comments were many and curious on the cruelty ofimprisoning people for debt, because they could not pay money. “Why not kill them?” they said; “it would be better, because when a man is dead he is no expense to any one, and his wife can get a husband again, and his little children a father to feed and take care of them; when he is in jail they must starve: when he is once in jail he cannot wish his face to be seen again, and they had better kill them all at once.” They thought it easier to die than to live in jail, and seemed to be surprised that white men, so many hundreds and thousands, would submit to it, when they had so many means by which they could kill themselves.
They saw convicts in the cells who were to be transported from the country: they inquired the meaning of that, and, when I explained it, they seemed to think that was a good plan, for, said they, “if these people can’t get money enough to pay their debts, if they go to another country they need not be ashamed there, and perhaps they will soon make money enough to come back and have their friends take them by the hand again.” I told them, however, that they had not understood me exactly—that transportation was only for heinous crimes, and then a man was sent away in irons, and in the country where he went he had to labour several years, or for life, with chains upon him, as a slave. Their ideas were changed at once on this point, and they agreed that it would be better to kill them all at once, or give them weapons and let them do it themselves.
While this conversation was going on, the Recorder Jim found here very interesting statistics for his note-book, and he at once conceived the plan of getting Daniel to find out how many people there were that they had seen in the prison locked up in one town; and then, his ideas expanding, how many (if it could be done at so late an hour) there were in all the prisons in London; and then how many white people in all the kingdom were locked up for crimes, and how many because they couldn’t pay money. His friend and teacher, Daniel, whose head had become a tolerable gazetteer and statistical table, told him it wouldbe quite easy to find it all ready printed in books and newspapers, and that he would put it all down in his book in a little time. The inquisitive Jim then inquired if there were any poorhouses in York, as in other towns; to which his friend Daniel replied that there were, and also in nearly every town in the kingdom; upon which Jim started the design of adding to the statistical entries in his book the number of people in poorhouses throughout the kingdom. Daniel agreed to do this for him also, which he could easily copy out of a memorandum-book of his own, and also to give him an estimate of the number of people annually transported from the kingdom for the commission of crimes. This all pleased Jim very much, and was amusement for Daniel; but at the same time I was decidedly regretting with Mr. Melody that his good fellows the Indians, in their visit to York, should have got their eyes open to so much of the dark side of civilization, which it might have been better for them that they never had seen.
Jim’s book was now becoming daily a subject of more and more excitement to him, and consequently of jealousy amongst some of the party, and particularly so with the old Doctor; as Jim was getting more rapidly educated than either of the others, and his book so far advanced as to discourage the Doctor from any essay of the kind himself. Jim that night regretted only one thing which he had neglected to do, and which it was now too late to accomplish—that was, to have measured the length of the cathedral and ascertained the number of steps required to walk around it. He had counted the number of steps to the top of the grand tower, and had intended to have measured the cathedral’s length. I had procured some very beautiful engravings of it, however, one of which Daniel arranged in his book, and the length of the building and its height we easily found for him in the pocket Guide.
The Doctor, watching with a jealous eye these numerous estimates going into Jim’s book, to be referred to (and of course sworn to) when he got home, and probably on variousoccasions long before, and having learned enough of arithmetic to understand what a wonderful effect a cipher has when placed on the right of a number of figures, he smiled from day to day with a wicked intent on Jim’s records, which, if they went back to his tribe in anything like a credible form, would be a direct infringement upon his peculiar department, and materially affect his standing, inasmuch as Jim laid no claims to a knowledge ofmedicine, or to anything more than good eating and drinking, before he left home.
However, the Doctor at this time could only meditate and smile, as his stiff hand required some practice with the pen before he could make those little 0’s so as to match with others in the book, which was often left carelessly lying about upon their table. This intent was entirely and originally wicked on the part of the old Doctor, because he had not yet, that any one knew of, made any reference to his measure of the giant woman, since he had carefully rolled up his cord and put it away amongst his other estimates, to be taken home to “astonish the natives” on their return.
Newcastle-on-Tyne—Indians’ alarms about jails—Kind visits from Friends—Mrs. A. Richardson—Advice of the Friends—War-Chiefs reply—Liberal presents—Arrive at Sunderland—Kindness of the Friends—All breakfast with Mr. T. Richardson—Indians plant trees in his garden—And the Author also—The Doctor’s superstition—Sacrifice—Feast—Illness of the Roman Nose—Indians visit a coalpit—North Shields—A sailors’ dinner and a row—Arrive at Edinburgh—A drive—First exhibition there—Visit to Salisbury Crag—To Arthur’s Seat—Holyrood House and Castle—The crown of Robert Bruce—The “big gun,”—“Queen Mab”—Curious modes of building—“Flats”—Origin of—Illness of Corsair, the littlepappoose—The old Doctor speaks—War-chief’s speech—A feast of ducks—Indians’ remarks upon the government of Scotland—“The swapping of crowns”—The Doctor proposes the crown of Robert Bruce for Prince Albert—Start for Dundee—Indians’ liberality—A noble act—Arrival at Dundee—Death of little Corsair—Distress of the Little Wolf and his wife—Curious ceremony—Young men piercing their arms—Indians at Perth—Arrival in Glasgow—Quartered in the Town-hall—The cemetery—The Hunterian Museum—The Doctor’s admiration of it—Daily drives—Indians throw money to the poor—Alarm forRoman Nose—Two reverend gentlemen talk with the Indians—War-chief’s remarks—Greenock—Doctor’s regret at leaving.
Newcastle-on-Tyne was the next place where we stopped, and when I arrived there I found Mr. Melody and his friends very comfortably lodged, and all in excellent spirits. The Indians, he told me, had been exceedingly buoyant in spirits from the moment they left York, and the old Doctor sang the whole way, even though he had been defeated in his design of riding outside on the railway train, as he had been in the habit of doing on the omnibus in London. I told them I had remained a little behind them in York to enjoy a few hours more of the society of an excellent and kind lady of the Society of Friends,[29]whom they wouldrecollect to have seen in the exhibition room when they had finished their last night’s exhibition, who came forward and shook hands in the most affectionate manner, and left gold in their hands as she bade them good bye, and commended them to the care of the Great Spirit.
I told them that this good lady had only returned from the country on the last evening of their exhibiting in York, and was exceedingly disappointed that she could not have the pleasure of their society at her house. I then sat down and amused them an hour with a beautiful manuscript book, by her own hand, which she had presented to me, containing the portraits of seven Seneca chiefs and braves, who were in England twenty-five years before, and whom she entertained for three weeks in her own house. This interesting work contains also some twenty pages of poetry glowing with piety, and written in a chaste and beautiful style; and an hundred or more pages in prose, giving a full description of the party, their modes, and a history of their success, as they travelled through the kingdom. This was a subject of much pleasure to them, but at the same time increased their regret that they had not seen more of this kind lady before they left the town of York.
Their first inquiries after their arrival in Newcastle were whether they would meet any of the “good people” in that town, and whether that was a place where they had prisons and a gallows like those in London and in York. I answered that they would no doubt find many of the Friends there, for I knew several very kind families who would call upon them, and also that the good lady who gave me the book in York had written letters to several of the Friends in Newcastle to call on them; and that, as to the jails, &c., I believed they were much the same.
In a sort of council which we held there, as we were in the Indian habit of convening one whenever we were leaving an old lodging or taking possession of a new one, it was very gravely and diffidently suggested by the Doctor, asthe desire of the whole party, that they presumedChippehola[30]had money enough left in London (in case they should fail in this section of the country to make enough to pay their debts) to keep them clear from being taken up and treated like white men who can’t pay what they owe. I approved this judicious suggestion, and assured them they might feel quite easy as long as they were in the kingdom. I told them I was quite sure they had a good and faithful friend in Mr. Melody, and, if anything happened to him, they would be sure to find me ready to take care of them, and that, if we were both to die, they would find all the English people around them their friends. This seemed to satisfy and to cheer them up, and our few days in Newcastle thus commenced very pleasantly. From their first night’s exhibition they all returned to their lodgings with peculiar satisfaction that they had observed a greater number of Friends in the crowd than they had seen in any place before, and many of these had remained until everybody else had gone away, to shake hands and converse with them. They found roast beef and beef-steaks andchickabobbooalso, the same as in other places, and altogether there was enough around them here to produce cheerful faces.
I need not describe again to the reader the nature and excitement of the dances, &c., in their exhibitions, which were nightly repeated here as they had been in London; but incidents and results growing out of these amusements were now becoming exceedingly interesting, and as will be found in the sequel of much importance, I trust, to those poor people and their descendants. Very many of the Society of Friends were nightly attending their exhibitions, not so much for the purpose of witnessing or encouraging their war-dances and customs, as for an opportunity of forming an acquaintance with them, with a view to render them in some way an essential good. With thisobject a letter was addressed to me by Mrs. Anna Richardson (with whom I had formerly corresponded on the subject of the Indians), proposing that a number of the Friends should be allowed to hold a conversation with them in their apartments, on some morning, for the purpose of learning the true state of their minds relative to the subjects of religion and education, and to propose some efforts that might result to their advantage, and that of their nation. Mr. Melody and myself embraced this kind proposal at once, and the Indians all seemed delighted with it when it was made known to them. The morning was appointed, and this kind and truly charitable lady came with fifteen or twenty of her friends, and the Indians listened with patience and apparent pleasure to the Christian advice that was given them by several, and cheerfully answered to the interrogatories which were put to them.
The immediate appeal and thanks to the “Great Spirit, who had sent these kind people to them,” by the War-chief in his reply, seemed to impress upon the minds of all present the conviction of a high and noble sentiment of religion in the breasts of these people, which required but the light of the Christian revelation. His replies as to the benefits of education were much as he had made them on several occasions before, that, “as for themselves, they were too far advanced in life to think of being benefited by it, but that their children might learn to read and write, and that they should be glad to have them taught to do so.” Here seemed to dawn a gleam of hope, which that pious lady, in her conversation and subsequent correspondence with me, often alluded to, as the most favourable omen for the desire which the Friends had of rendering them some lasting benefit. Mr. Melody on this occasion produced a little book printed in the Ioway language, in the missionary school already in existence in the tribe, and also letters which he had just received from the Rev. Mr. Irvin, then conducting the school, giving an encouraging account of it, and hoping that the Indians and himself might return safe, and withmeans to assist in the noble enterprise. This information was gratifying in the extreme, and all seemed to think that there was a chance of enlightening these benighted people. The heart of this Christian woman reached to the American wilderness in a letter that she directed to this reverend gentleman, believing that there, where were the wives and children of the chiefs and warriors who were travelling, was the place for the efforts of the Society of Friends to be beneficially applied; and thus, I believe, formed the chain from which I feel confident the most fortunate results will flow.[31]
Several subsequent interviews were held with the Indians by these kind people, who took them to their houses and schools, and bestowed upon them many tangible proofs of their attachment to them, and anxiety for their welfare. The Indians left Newcastle and these suddenly made friends with great reluctance, and we paid a visit of a couple of days to Sunderland. Here they found also many of the “good people” attending their exhibitions, and received several warm and friendly invitations to their houses. Amongst these kind attentions there was one which they never will forget: they were invited to breakfast at the table of Mr. T. Richardson, in his lovely mansion, with his kind family and some friends, and after the breakfast was over all were invited into his beautiful garden, where a spade was ready, and a small tree prepared for each one to plant and attach his name to. This ceremony amused them very much, and, when they had all done, there was one left forChippehola, who took the spade and completed the interesting ceremony. This had been kindly designed for their amusement, and for the pleasing recollections of his family, by this good man; and with all it went off cheerfully, except with the Doctor, who refused for some time, but was at length induced to take the spade and plant histree. I observed from the moment that he had done it that he was contemplative, and evidently apprehensive that some bad luck was to come from it—that there wasmedicinein it, and he was alarmed. He was silent during the rest of the interview, and after they had returned to their rooms he still remained so for some time, when he explained to me that “he feared some one would be sick—some one of those trees would die, and he would much rather they had not been planted.” He said “it would be necessary to make a great feast the next day,” which I told him would be difficult, as we were to leave at an early hour. This puzzled him very much, as it was so late that, “if they were to try to give it that night, there would not be time for the ducks to be well cooked.” They all laughed at him for his superstition, and he got the charm off as well as he could by throwing some tobacco, as a sacrifice, into the fire.
We travelled the next day to North Shields, and the gloom that was still evidently hanging over the old man’s brow was darkened by the increased illness of theRoman Nose, who had been for some weeks slightly ailing, but on that day was attacked for the first time with some fever. The Doctor’s alarm was such that he stayed constantly by him, and did not accompany his friend Jim and one or two others with Daniel to the coalpit. This, from the repeated representations of Daniel and their old friendBobasheela, was one of the greatest curiosities in the kingdom, and they were not disappointed in it. In this enterprise I did not accompany them, but from their representations ascertained that they descended more than two thousand feet and then travelled half a mile or so under the sea—that there were fifty horses and mules at that depth under the ground, that never will come up, drawing cars loaded with coal on railways, and six or seven hundred men, women, and children, as black as negroes, and many of these who seldom come up, but sleep there at nights. This scene shocked them even more than the sights they had seen in York, for they seemed to think that the debtors’ cells in a prison would be far preferable to theslavery they there saw, of “hundreds of women and children drawing out, as they said, from some narrow places where the horses could not go, little carriages loaded with coal; where the women had to go on their hands and knees through the mud and water, and almost entirely naked, drawing their loads by a strap that was buckled around their waists; their knees and their legs and their feet, which were all naked, were bleeding with cuts from the stones, and their hands also; they drew these loads in the dark, and they had only a little candle to see the way.” This surprising scene, which took them hours to describe to their companions, became more surprising when Daniel told them of “the vast number of such mines in various parts of the kingdom, and of the fact that many people in some parts have been born in those mines, and gone to school in them, and spent their lives, without ever knowing how the daylight looked.”
Daniel reminded them of the hundreds of mines he had pointed out to them while travelling by the railroads, and that they were all under ground, like what they had seen. Here was rich subject for Jim, for another entry in his book, of the statistics of England; and Daniel, always ready, turned to the page in his own note-book, and soon got for Jim’s memorandum the sum total of coalpits and mines in the kingdom, and the hundreds of thousands of humancivilizedbeings who were imprisoned in them.
It happened, on the second day that we were stopping in North Shields, much to the amusement of the Indians, that there was a sailors’ dinner prepared for an hundred or more in the large hall of the hotel where we were lodging; and, from the rooms which the Indians occupied, there was an opportunity of looking through a small window down into their hall, and upon the merry and noisy group around the table. This was a rich treat for the Indians; and, commencing in an amusing and funny manner, it became every moment more and more so, and, finally (when they began to dance and sing and smash the glasses, and at length thetables, and from that to “set-to’s,” “fisticuffs,” and “knockdowns,” by the dozens, and, at last, to a generalmélée, a row, and a fight in the street) one of the most decidedly exciting and spirited scenes they had witnessed in the country.
It afforded them amusement also for a long time after the day on which it took place, when they spoke of it as the “great fighting feast.”
Two days completed our visit to North Shields, and on the next we were in comfortable quarters in Edinburgh. The Indians were greatly delighted with the appearance of the city as they entered it, and more so daily, as they took their omnibus drives around and through the different parts of it.
The Doctor, however, who was tending on his patient,Roman Nose, seemed sad, and looked as if he had forebodings still of some sad results to flow from planting the trees; but he took his seat upon the bus, with his old joking friend Jim, by the side of the driver, smiling occasionally on whatever he saw amusing, as he was passing through the streets. Their novel appearance created a great excitement in Edinburgh; and our announcements filled our hall with the most respectable and fashionable people.
Their dances called forth great applause; and, in the midst of it, the War-chief, so delighted with the beauty of the city, and now by seeing so numerous and fashionable an audience before him, and all applauding, arose to make a speech. As he straightened up, and, wrapping his buffalo robe around him, extended his long right arm, the audience gave him a round of applause, occasioned entirely by the dignified and manly appearance he made when he took the attitude of the orator, and he commenced:—