THE FLORIDA INDIANS.

The Palarches, Eamuses and Kaloosas, were the ancient possessors of Florida, and are all extinct. The present Florida Indians are the remains of that ancient and warlike tribe on the Mississippi, which being almost extirpated by the French, retreated along the Northern coast of the Gulf of Mexico, and united with broken bands of Biloxies, Red Sticks, and runaway Creeks, called Seminoles. The largest portion of these Indians are Lower Creeks, and are of the most dissolute, daring, and abandoned of that tribe.

The word Seminole signifies a wanderer or runaway, or it means a wild people or outsettlers, the ancestors of the tribe having detached themselves from the main body of the Creeks, and dwelt remotely, wherever the inducements of more game, or greater scope for freedom of action, might casually lead them. They settled in Florida about 115 years ago.

That this is the period of their becoming a separate community, is confirmed by the connection of their history with that of the Yemasees, of whom there occur frequent notices in the account of the early settlement of Georgia and South Carolina.

In a talk, which the Seminoles about the year 1820, transmitted to the American government, they say, alluding to their ancient independence: “An hundred summers have seenthe Seminole warrior reposing undisturbed under the shade of his live oak, and the suns of an hundred winters have risen on his ardent pursuit of the buck and the bear, with none to question his bounds, or dispute his range.”

The greater part of East Florida appears to have been originally in possession of the Yemasees—a powerful people, who not only occupied this province, but spread themselves over Georgia, and into the limits of South Carolina, which on its first demarcation was bounded on the South by the Altamaha. Some of the tribes resided within the present limits of that State, in and about Beaufort and Savannah River, and also the Sea Islands. Bartram relates that these people, after a hardy contest, and many bloody defeats, were nearly exterminated by their ancient enemies the Creeks, who had a tradition, that a beautiful race of Indians, whose women they called Daughters of the Sun, resided amidst the recesses of the great Oakefanokee wilderness, where they enjoyed perpetual felicity, in ever blooming islands, inaccessible to human approach.

Bartram with probability supposes, that this fable took its rise from a fugitive remnant of the Yemasees, who found a refuge in this swamp, and were perhaps, after a lapse of years, accidentally seen by some of the hunters of the Creek nation.

There is frequent mention, in the early colonial history of South Carolina, of wars betweenthe first settlers and the Yemasees, the latter having been excited to attack the Colony by the Spanish authorities in St. Augustine.

A formidable war was kindled by these people, which would have proved destructive to the infant settlement of Carolina, had not timely intimation of the danger been obtained by means of one of the outsettlers to whom Sanute, a chief of the hostile Indians, from a feeling of friendship, gave notice of the impending attack. On this occasion the Indians were defeated by Gov. Grant, and driven out of the province. Dr. Ramsay mentions that the Yemasees retired into Florida, to which country they seem to have been subsequently restricted by the increasing power of the whites, and by the Creeks. No further mention of them occurs, until the Seminoles came into notice, by whom they were conquered, and nearly exterminated, in 1721, in the manner mentioned by Bartram. When in the year 1715, the Yemasees were driven within the limits of Florida, they became slaves to the Seminoles. Another account states, that the Yemasees left St. Augustine in a body, in 1722; or rather were expelled by the Spaniards, who essayed in vain to compel them to labours which were regarded as degrading drudgeries by the warriors of Yemasee.

The Yemasees were remarkably black people, and the Ocklewahaw tribe, who are of a deeper shade than the Seminoles, are descendants of the conquered race. The chief of theOcklewahaws, Yaha Hadgo, who was killed by General Shelton in the campaign of ‘36, was very dark; but generally, the Seminole’s complexion is like that of the Creeks.

Under King Payne, grandfather of Micconope, (the present Chief) the Seminoles invaded and achieved the conquest of the territories they lately occupied. He lived to near 100 years of age, and married a Yemasee woman, his slave, by whom he had the late chief Payne, who bore, in the darkness of his complexion, a proof of his Yemasee descent.

The Indians were formerly very numerous in Florida, perhaps as much so as in Mexico. They are now reduced to comparatively small bands, in few villages.

An artful impostor, Tecumseh of the Shawnees, a man of most extraordinary abilities and consummate address, conceived the bold design of an union of the red against the white population of America, under a hope that by a general and continued assault along the whole line of our frontiers, the future extension of settlements might be checked, if the present inhabitants could not be driven into the ocean. Assuming the attributes of a prophet, and, among other things, assisted by the fortuitous occurrence of an earthquake, of which he had hazarded a prediction, a confidence began to be reposed in the sacredness of his character and mission. A majority of the Creek nation were enlisted in his cause, and the storm of an exterminating savage war hung over the West. Its first explosion was on Fort Mims, a rude stockade defence, into which the Southern inhabitants of Alabama had lately retreated for security. More than 300 persons, including women and children, fell victims to savage barbarity. “The slaughter was indiscriminate; mercy was extended to none, and the tomahawk often transfixed mother and child at the same stroke. But seventeen of the whole number in the fort, escaped to give intelligence of the dreadful catastrophe.” In the midst of an alarm which such an inhuman outrage wascalculated to excite, the eyes of Tennessee were turned on Jackson. Though confined at this period to his house by a fractured arm, his characteristic firmness did not desert him, and he cheerfully yielded to a second call for his services in the cause of his country. Two thousand militia were ordered to assemble at Fayetteville in Tennessee, in addition to five hundred cavalry previously raised under the command of Gen. Coffee.

The alarming accounts of the concentration of the forces of the enemy, with a view of deluging the frontier in blood, compelled General Jackson (though individually in a most disabled state of body) to take the field before the ranks of his army had been filled, or his troops organized.

With this undisciplined force, he prepared for active operations; but the wisest dispositions were counteracted, and all his movements embarrassed, by the failure of unfeeling and speculating contractors.

The enemy were gathering strength, and on the advance; they had already threatened a fort of Indian allies. In this situation, to retreat was to abandon our frontier citizens to the mercy of savages; to advance, was with the certainty of exposure to every privation.

Jackson hesitated not on the alternative, and with but six days’ rations of meat, and less than two of meal, he moved with his army upon the Coosa; and, with Coffee’s command, gave a most decisive blow to the enemy at Tallushatchee, in less than twenty-five days after he had marched from the rendezvous at Fayetteville. The loss of the Creeks in this engagement, was 186 killed, and 84 prisoners.

Though compelled by the want of supplies to return to his depots on the frontier, we find him in less than six weeks in the field, at the well fought battle of Talledega, and in the subsequent conflicts at Emuckfau, Enotichopco, and Tohopka, annihilating the hopes and expectations of the Creeks, and crushing the hydra of savage hostility in the South.

On the 6th of January, 1836, whilst Mr. Cooly was from home, a party of about thirty Indians made an attack upon his family, settled at New River, about 12 miles from Cape Florida. They murdered his wife, three children, and a Mr. Flinton, who was employed as their teacher. The children were sitting in the hall, getting their lessons, when the Indians came up by stealth, and shot them down. Flinton was killed on the threshold of the door; the little girl about eleven years old was found dead, with her book in her hand. As soon as the firing commenced, Mrs. Cooly snatched up her infant child, and endeavoured to effect their escape by a back way. She was shot at a distance of about one hundred and fifty yards from the house: the ball entered between her shoulders, and after passing through her breast, broke the arm of the child which was cradled on her bosom. The little boy, about eight or nine years of age, was found in the yard with his skull and arm fractured, probably done with a billet of wood. Having destroyed all of the white inhabitants, they shot the cattle, plundered the house of property worth from one thousand to twelve hundred dollars, took away two negroes and all the horses, and finally set fire to the house.

The circumstances attending the murder of Mr. Cooly’s family, are well calculated to illustrate the treachery of the Indian character. He had resided among them for many years, spoke their language well, and treated them with uniform kindness and hospitality. Indeed, such was his friendship for them, that he named two of his sons after their chiefs Alnomock and Montezuma. His wife had once been a captive among them, and was esteemed a great favourite. Standing in this relation, and confiding in their professions of friendship, which lulled him into a fatal security, he left his home for a few days, and returned to find it desolate. It is a remarkable fact, that the villains who perpetrated the deed of death, had not the hardihood to scalp the poor mother and her three innocent children. Was it the recollection of former friendship, that induced them thus to spare? Or were they conscious that their own savage colleagues would have blushed for the chivalry of those warriors, who could find no work more befitting their tomahawks and scalping knives, than the cruel butchery of women and children? Did they fear that some chief, more feeling than the rest, would ask,

“Oh wherefore strike the beautiful, the young,So innocent, unharming? Lift the knife,If need be, ‘gainst the warrior; but forbearThe trembling woman.”

“Oh wherefore strike the beautiful, the young,So innocent, unharming? Lift the knife,If need be, ‘gainst the warrior; but forbearThe trembling woman.”

“Oh wherefore strike the beautiful, the young,So innocent, unharming? Lift the knife,If need be, ‘gainst the warrior; but forbearThe trembling woman.”

“Oh wherefore strike the beautiful, the young,

So innocent, unharming? Lift the knife,

If need be, ‘gainst the warrior; but forbear

The trembling woman.”

The unfortunate schoolmaster shared a different fate. To him they owed no obligations of friendship; he was a man, and as such, capable of resistance; his scalp was therefore torn from him, and borne off as a testimony of their savage triumph.

In their physical character, the American Indians are considered by Blumenbach as forming a particular variety of the human species, differing, though not very widely, from the Mongolian. Believing, as we do, that the New World was peopled from the Old, and considering that the Mongol race was situated nearest to the point where Asia and America come almost into contact, we incline to ascribe these variations merely to a change of outward circumstances. The face is broad and flat, with high cheek-bones; more rounded and arched, however, than in the allied type, without having the visage expanded to the same breadth. The forehead is generally low; the eyes deep, small, and black; the nose rather diminutive, but prominent, with wide nostrils; and the mouth large, with somewhat thick lips. The stature, which varies remarkably throughout the Continent, is, in the quarter of which we treat, generally above the middle size. This property, however, is confined to the men, the females being usually below that standard, a fact which may be confidently ascribed to the oppressive drudgery they are compelled to undergo. The limbs, in both sexes, are well proportioned; and few instances of deformity ever occur.

The colour of the skin in the Indian is generally described as red or copper-coloured; or, according to Mr. Lawrence’s more precisedefinition, it is “an obscure orange or rusty iron colour, not unlike the bark of the cinnamon-tree.” Although we believe that climate is the chief cause of the diversities in human colour, yet it is certain that all savages are dark-tinted. This peculiarity may be accounted for by their constant exposure to the inclemency of the seasons, to sun, air, and tempests; and the same cause in civilized countries produces a similar effect on sailors, as well as on those who work constantly in the fields. In the Old World, the intermediate tints between white and black are generally varieties of brown and yellow. Theredtint is considered characteristic of the New World. We must, however, observe, that the traveller Adair, who lived upward of thirty years among the Indians, positively asserts that it is artificially produced; that in the oil, grease, and other unctuous substances with which they keep their skin constantly smeared, there is dissolved the juice of a root which gradually tinges it of this colour. He states, that a white man, who spent some years with the natives, and adorned himself in their manner, completely acquired it. Charlevoix seems also to lean to the same opinion. Weld, though rather inclined to dissent from it, admits that such a notion was adopted by missionaries and others who had resided long in the country. It is certain that the inhabitants glory in this colour, and regard Europeans who have it not as nondescript beings, not fully entitled to the name of men. It may be noticed also, that this tint is by nomeans so universal as is commonly supposed. Humboldt declares that the idea of its general prevalence could never have arisen in equinoctial America, or been suggested by the view of the natives in that region; yet these provinces include by far the larger part of the aboriginal population. The people of Nootka sound and other districts of the north-western coast are nearly as white as Europeans; which may be ascribed, we think, to their ample clothing and spacious habitations. Thus the red nations appear limited to the eastern tribes of North America, among whom generally prevails the custom of painting or smearing the skin with that favourite colour. We are not prepared to express a decided opinion on this subject; but it obviously requires a closer investigation than it has yet received.

The hair is another particular in which the races of mankind remarkably differ. The ruder classes are generally defective, either in the abundance or quality of that graceful appendage; and the hair of the American Indians, like that of their allied type the Mongols, is coarse, black, thin, but strong, and growing to a great length. Like the latter, also, by a curious coincidence, most of them remove it from every part of the head, with the exception of a tuft on the crown, which they cherish with much care. The circumstance, however, which has excited the greatest attention, is the absence of beard, apparently entire, among all the people of the New World. The early travellers viewedit as a natural deficiency; whence Robertson and other eminent writers have even inferred the existence of something peculiarly feeble in their whole frame. But the assertion, with all the inferences founded upon it, so far as relates to the North American tribes, has been completely refuted by recent observation. The original growth has been found nearly, if not wholly, as ample as that of Europeans; but the moment it appears, every trace is studiously obliterated. This is effected by the aged females, originally with a species of clam-shell, but now by means of spiral pieces of brass-wire supplied by the traders. With these an old squaw will in a few minutes reduce the chin to a state of complete smoothness; and slight applications during the year clear away such straggling hairs as may happen to sprout. It is only among old men, who become careless of their appearance, that the beard begins to be perceptible. A late English traveller strongly recommends to his countrymen a practice which, though scarcely accordant with our ideas of manly dignity, would, at the expense of a few minutes’ pain, save them much daily trouble. The Indians have probably adopted this usage, as it removes an obstacle to the fantastic painting of the face, which they value so highly. A full beard, at all events, when it was first seen on their French visiters, is said to have been viewed with peculiar antipathy, and to have greatly enhanced the pleasure with which they killed these foreigners.

The comparative physical strength of savage and civilized nations has been a subject of controversy. A general impression has obtained that the former, inured to simple and active habits, acquire a decided superiority; but experience appears to have proved that this conclusion is ill founded. On the field of battle, when a struggle takes place between man and man, the Indian is usually worsted. In sportive exercises, such as wrestling, he is most frequently thrown, and in leaping comes short of his antagonist. Even in walking or running, if for a short distance, he is left behind; but in these last movements he possesses a power of perseverance and continued exertion to which there is scarcely any parallel. An individual has been known to travel nearly eighty miles in a day, and arrive at his destination without any symptoms of fatigue. These long journeys, also, are frequently performed without any refreshment, and even having the shoulders loaded with heavy burdens, their capacity of supporting which is truly wonderful. For about twelve miles, indeed, a strong European will keep ahead of the Indian; but then he begins to flag, while the other, proceeding with unaltered pace, outstrips him considerably. Even powerful animals cannot equal them in this respect. Many of their civilized adversaries, when overcome in war, and fleeing before them on swift horses, have, after a long chase, been overtaken and scalped.

Having thus given a view of the persons of the Indians, we may proceed to consider the manner in which they are clothed and ornamented. This last object might have been expected to be a very secondary one, among tribes whose means of subsistence are so scanty and precarious; but, so far is this from being the case, that there is scarcely any pursuit which occupies so much of their time and regard. They have availed themselves of European intercourse to procure each a small mirror, in which, from time to time, they view their personal decorations, taking care that everything shall be in the most perfect order. Embellishment, however, is not much expended on actual clothing, which is simple, and chiefly arranged with a view to convenience. Instead of shoes, they wear what are termed moccasins, consisting of one strip of soft leather wrapped round the foot, and fastened in front and behind. Europeans, walking over hard roads, soon knock these to pieces; but the Indian, tripping over snow or grass, finds them a light and agreeablechaussure. Upward to the middle of the thigh, a piece of leather or cloth, tightly fitted to the limb, serves instead of pantaloons, stockings, and boots; it is sometimes sewed on so close as never to be taken off. To a string or girdle round the waist are fastened two aprons, one before and the other at theback, each somewhat more than a foot square and these are connected by a piece of cloth like a truss, often used also as a capacious pocket. The use of breeches they have always repelled with contempt, as cumbrous and effeminate. As an article of female dress, they would consider them less objectionable; but that the limbs of a warrior should be thus manacled, appears to them utterly preposterous. They were particularly scandalized at seeing an officer have them fastened over the shoulder by braces, and never after gave him any name but Tied-Breech.

The garments now enumerated form the whole of their permanent dress. On occasions of ceremony, indeed, or when exposed to cold, they put over it a short shirt fastened at the neck and wrists, and above it a long loose robe, closed or held together in front. For this purpose they now generally prefer an English blanket. All these articles were originally fabricated from the skins of wild animals; but at present, unless for the moccasins, and sometimes the leggins, European stuffs are preferred. The dress of the female scarcely differs from that of the male, except that the apron reaches down to the knees; and even this is said to have been adopted since their acquaintance with civilized nations. The early French writers relate an amusing anecdote to prove how little dress was considered as making a distinction between the sexes. The Ursuline nuns, having educated a Huron girl, presented her,on her marriage to one of her countrymen, with a complete and handsome suit of clothes in the Parisian style. They were much surprised, some days after, to see the husband, who had ungenerously seized the whole of his bride’s attire and arrayed himself in it, parading back and forward in front of the convent, and betraying every symptom of the most extravagant exultation. This was farther heightened when he observed the ladies crowding to the window to see him, and a universal smile spread over their countenances.

These vestments, as already observed, are simple, and adapted only for use. To gratify his passionate love of ornament, the Indian seeks chiefly to load his person with certain glittering appendages. Before the arrival of Europeans, shells and feathers took the lead; but, since that period, these commodities have been nearly supplanted by beads, rings, bracelets, and similar toys, which are inserted profusely into various parts of his apparel, particularly the little apron in front. The chiefs usually wear a breastplate ornamented with them; and among all classes it is an object of the greatest ambition to have the largest possible number suspended from the ear. That organ, therefore, is not bored, but slit to such an extent that a stick of wax may be passed through the aperture, which is then loaded with all the baubles that can be mustered; and if the weight of these gradually draw down the yielding flap till it rest on the shoulder, and theornaments themselves cover the breast, the Indian has reached his utmost height of finery. This, however, is a precarious splendour; the ear becomes more and more unfit to support the burden, when at length some accident, the branch of a tree, or even a twitch by a waggish comrade, lays at his feet all his decorations, with the portion of flesh to which they were attached. Weld saw very few who had preserved this organ entire through life. The adjustment of the hair, again, is an object of especial study. As already observed, the greater part is generally eradicated, leaving only a tuft, varying in shape and place, according to taste and national custom, but usually encircling the crown. This lock is stuck full of feathers, wings of birds, shells, and every kind of fantastic ornament. The women wear theirs long and flowing, and contrive to collect a considerable number of ornaments for it, as well as for their ears and dress.

But it is upon his skin that the American warrior chiefly lavishes his powers of embellishment. His taste in doing so is very different from ours. “While the European,” says Creuxius, “studies to keep his skin clean, and free from every extraneous substance, the Indian’s aim is, that his, by the accumulation of oil, grease, and paint, may shine like that of a roasted pig.” Soot scraped from the bottoms of kettles, the juices of herbs, having a green, yellow, and, above all, a vermilion tint, rendered adhesive by combination with oil andgrease, are lavishly employed to adorn his person, or, according to our idea, to render it hideous. Black and red, alternating with each other in varied stripes, are the favourite tints. Some blacken the face, leaving in the middle a red circle, including the upper lip and tip of the nose; others have a red spot on each ear, or one eye black and the other of a red colour. In war the black tint is profusely laid on, the others being only employed to heighten its effect, and give to the countenance a terrific expression. M. de Tracy, when governor of Canada, was told by his Indian allies, that, with his good-humoured face, he would never inspire the enemy with any degree of awe. They besought him to place himself under their brush, when they would soon make him such that his very aspect would strike terror. The breast, arms, and legs are the seat of more permanent impressions, analogous to the tattooing of the South Sea Islanders. The colours are either elaborately rubbed in, or fixed by slight incisions with needles and sharp-pointed bones. His guardian spirit, and the animal that forms the symbol of his tribe, are the first objects delineated. After this, every memorable exploit, and particularly the enemies whom he has slain and scalped, are diligently graven on some part of his figure; so that the body of an aged warrior contains the history of his life.

It is a mistake to suppose that hunting is pursued by the Indian merely as a means of subsistence. It is also his favourite sport; and no English gentleman who spends his thousands of pounds per annum on his horses and hounds, follows the sports of the field with a keener zest, than the wild Indian who has never beheld the face of a white man. The accounts of Catlin, who spent much time among the wildest tribes, show, that amusement, in its most liberal sense, is pursued by the Indians in this way. Hunting is not drudgery to them.

The means of procuring subsistence must always form an important branch of national economy. Writers take a superficial view of savage life, and, seeing how scanty the articles of food are, while the demand is necessarily urgent, have assumed that the efforts to attain them must absorb his whole mind, and scarcely leave room for any other thought. But, on the contrary, these are to him very subordinate objects. To perform a round of daily labour, even though ensuring the most ample provision for his wants, would be equally contrary to his inclination and supposed dignity. He will not deign to follow any pursuit which does not, at the same time, include enterprise, adventure,and excitement. Hunting, which the higher classes in the civilized parts of the world pursue for mere recreation, is almost the only occupation considered of sufficient importance to engage his attention. It is peculiarly endeared by its resemblance to war, being carried on with the same weapons, and nearly in the same manner. In his native state, the arrow was the favourite and almost exclusive instrument for assailing distant objects; but now the gun has nearly superseded it. The great hunts are rendered more animating, as well as more effectual, from being carried on in large parties, and even by whole tribes. The men are prepared for these by fasting, dreaming, and other superstitious observances, similar to those which we shall find employed in anticipation of war. In such expeditions, too, contrivance and skill, as well as boldness and enterprise, are largely employed. Sometimes a circle is formed, when all the animals surrounded by it are pressed closer and closer, till they are collected in the centre, and fall under the accumulated weight of weapons. On other occasions they are driven to the margin of a lake or river, in which, if they attempt to seek refuge, canoes are ready to intercept them. Elsewhere a space is enclosed by stakes, only a narrow opening being left, which, by clamour and shouts, the game are compelled to enter, and thereby secured. In autumn and spring, when the ice is newly formed and slight, they are pushed upon it, and their legs breaking through, they are easilycaught. In winter, when the snow begins to fall, traps are set, in which planks are so arranged, that the animal, in snatching at the bait, is crushed to death. Originally the deer, both for food and clothing, was the most valuable object of chase; but, since the trade with Europeans has given such a prominent importance to furs, the beaver has in some degree supplanted it. In attacking this animal, great care is taken to prevent his escape into the water, on which his habitation always borders; and with this view various kinds of nets and springes are employed. On some occasions the Indians place themselves upon the dike which encloses his amphibious village. They then make an opening in it, when the inmates, alarmed by seeing the water flowing out, hasten to this barrier, where they encounter their enemies, armed with all the instruments of destruction. At other times, when ice covers the surface of the pond, a hole is made, at which the animal comes to respire; he is then drawn out and secured. The bear is a formidable enemy, which must be assailed by the combined force of the hunters, who are ranged in two rows, armed with bows or muskets. One of them advances and wounds him, and, on being furiously pursued, he retreats between the files, followed in the same line by the animal, which is then overwhelmed by their united onset. In killing these quadrupeds, the natives seem to feel a sort of kindness and sympathy for their victim. On vanquishing a beaver ora bear, they celebrate its praises in a song, recounting those good qualities which it will never more be able to display, yet consoling themselves with the useful purposes to which its flesh and its skin will be applied.

Of the animals usually tamed and rendered subservient to useful purposes, the Indians have only the dog, that faithful friend of man. Though his services in hunting are valuable, he is treated with but little tenderness, and is left to roam about the dwelling, very sparingly supplied with food and shelter. A missionary, who resided in a Huron village, represents his life as having been rendered miserable by these animals. At night they laid themselves on his person for the benefit of the warmth; and, whenever his scanty meal was set down, their snouts were always first in the dish. Dog’s flesh is eaten, and has even a peculiar sanctity attached to it. On all solemn festivals it is the principal meat, the use of which, on such occasions, seems to import some high and mysterious meaning.

But, besides the cheering avocations of the chase, other means must be used to ensure the comfort and subsistence of the Indian’s family; all of which, however, are most ungenerously devolved upon the weaker sex. Women, according to Creuxius, serve them as domestics, as tailors, as peasants, and as oxen; and Long does not conceive that any other purposes of their existence are recognized, except those of bearing children and performing hard workThey till the ground, carry wood and water, build huts, make canoes, and fish; in which latter processes, however, and in reaping the harvest, their lords deign to give occasional aid. So habituated are they to such occupations, that when one of them saw a party of English soldiers collecting wood, she exclaimed that it was a shame to see men doing women’s work, and began herself to carry a load.

Through the services of this enslaved portion of the tribe, those savages are enabled to combine in a certain degree the agricultural with the hunting state, without any mixture of the pastoral, usually considered as intermediate. Cultivation, however, is limited to small spots in the immediate vicinity of the villages, and these being usually at the distance of sixteen or seventeen miles from each other, it scarcely makes any impression on the immense expanse of forest. The women, in the beginning of summer, after having burned the stubble of the preceding crop, rudely stir the ground with a long, crooked piece of wood; they then throw in the grain, which is chiefly the coarse but productive species of maize peculiar to the Continent. The nations in the south have a considerable variety of fruits; whereas those of Canada appear to have raised only turnsols, watermelons, and pompions. Tobacco used to be grown largely; but that produced by the European settlers is now universally preferred, and has become a regular object of trade. The grain, after harvest (which is celebrated by afestival), is lodged in large subterraneous stores lined with bark, where it keeps extremely well. Previous to being placed in these, it is sometimes thrashed; on other occasions merely the ears are cut off, and thrown in. When first discovered by settlers from Europe, the degrees of culture were found to vary in different tribes. The Algonquins, who were the ruling people previous to the arrival of the French, wholly despised it, and branded as plebeian their neighbours, by whom it was practised. In general, the northern clans, and those near the mouth of the St. Lawrence, depended almost solely on hunting and fishing; and when these failed they were reduced to dreadful extremities, being often obliged to depend on the miserable resource of that species of lichen calledtripe de roche.

The maize, when thrashed, is occasionally toasted on the coals, and sometimes made into a coarse kind of unleavened cake. But the most favourite preparation is that calledsagamity, a species of pap formed after it has been roasted, bruised, and separated from the husk. It is insipid by itself; yet when thrown into the pot, along with the produce of the chase, it enriches the soup or stew, one of the principal dishes at their feasts. They never eat victuals raw, but rather overboiled; nor have they yet been brought to endure French ragouts, salt, pepper, or, indeed, any species of condiment. A chief, admitted to the governor’s table, seeing the general use of mustard, was led by curiosity to take a spoonful and put it into his mouth. On feeling its violent effects, he made incredible efforts to conceal them, and escape the ridicule of the company; but severe sneezings, and the tears starting from his eyes, soon betrayed him, and raised a general laugh. He was then shown the manner in which it should be used; but nothing could ever induce him to allow the “boiling yellow,” as he termed it, to enter his lips.

The Indians are capable of extraordinary abstinence from food, in which they can persevere for successive days without complaint or apparent suffering. They even take a pride in long fasts, by which they usually prepare themselves for any great undertaking. Yet, when once set down to a feast, their gluttony is described as enormous, and the capacity of their stomachs almost incredible. They will go from feast to feast, doing honour to each in succession. The chief giving the entertainment does not partake, but with his own hands distributes portions among the guests. On solemn occasions, it is a rule that everything shall be eaten; nor does this obligation seem to be felt as either burdensome or unpleasant. In their native state, they were not acquainted with any species of intoxicating liquors; their love of ardent spirits, attended with so many ruinous effects, having been entirely consequent on their intercourse with Europeans.

There is great diversity among the various tribes of North American Indians in respect to manners and customs, dress, and modes of living. The inhabitants of the sultry regions of Florida and Texas, of course pay less attention to the texture of their garments, and the comfort of their dwellings, than those who reside in the more northern regions; and other diversities of habit are produced by differences of climate and situation. Still there is a certain degree of simplicity inherent in savage life, which pervades all the tribes:—it is the simplicity which is the necessary consequence of poverty and ignorance.

The habitations of the Indians receive much less of their attention than the attire, or, at least, embellishment of their persons. Our countrymen, by common consent, give to them no better appellation than cabins. The bark of trees is their chief material, both for houses and boats: they peel it off with considerable skill, sometimes stripping a whole tree in one piece. This coating, spread not unskilfully over a framework of poles, and fastened to them by strips of tough rind, forms their dwellings. The shape, according to the owner’s fancy, resembles a tub, a cone, or a cart-shed, the mixture of which gives to the village a confused and chaotic appearance. Light andheat are admitted only by an aperture at the top, through which also the smoke escapes, after filling all the upper part of the mansion. Little inconvenience is felt from this by the natives, who, within doors, never think of any position except sitting or lying; but to Europeans, who must occasionally stand or walk, the abode is thereby rendered almost intolerable; and matters become much worse when rain or snow makes it necessary to close the roof. These structures are sometimes upward of a hundred feet long; but they are then the residence of two or three separate families. Four of them occasionally compose a quadrangle, each open on the inside, and having a common fire in the centre. Formerly the Iroquois had houses somewhat superior, adorned even with some rude carving; but these were burned down by the French in successive expeditions, and were never after rebuilt in the same style. The Canadians in this respect seem to be surpassed by the Choctaws, Chickasaws, and other tribes in the south, and even by the Saukies in the west, whose mansions Carver describes as constructed of well-hewn planks, neatly jointed, and each capable of containing several families.

In their expeditions, whether for war or hunting, which often lead them through desolate forests, several hundred miles from home, the Indians have the art of rearing, with great expedition, temporary abodes. On arriving at their evening station, a few poles, meeting atthe top in the form of a cone, are in half an hour covered with bark; and having spread a few pine-branches within by way of mattress, they sleep as soundly as on beds of down. Like the Esquimaux, they also understand how to convert snow into a material for building; and find it in the depth of winter the warmest and most comfortable. A few twigs platted together secure the roof. Our own countrymen, in their several campaigns, have, in cases of necessity, used with advantage this species of bivouac.

The furniture in these native huts is exceedingly simple. The chief articles are two or three pots or kettles for boiling their food, with a few wooden plates and spoons. The former, in the absence of metal, with which the inhabitants were unacquainted, were made of coarse earthenware that resisted the fire; and sometimes of a species of soft stone, which could be excavated with their rude hatchets. Nay, in some cases, their kitchen utensils were of wood, and the water made to boil by throwing in heated stones. Since their acquaintance with Europeans, the superiority of iron vessels has been found so decided, that they are now universally preferred. The great kettle or caldron, employed only on high festivals associated with religion, hunting, or war, attracts even a kind of veneration; and potent chiefs have assumed its name as their title of honour.

The intellectual character of the American savage presents some very striking peculiarities. Considering his unfavourable condition, he of all other human beings might seem doomed to make the nearest approach to the brute; while, in point of fact, without any aid from letters or study, many of the higher faculties of his mind are developed in a very remarkable degree. He displays a decided superiority over the uninstructed labourer in a civilized community, whose mental energies are benumbed amid the daily round of mechanical occupation. The former spends a great part of his life in arduous enterprises, where much contrivance is requisite, and whence he must often extricate himself by presence of mind and ingenuity. His senses, particularly those of seeing and smelling, have acquired by practice an almost preternatural acuteness. He can trace an animal or a foe by indications which to a European eye would be wholly imperceptible; and in his wanderings he gathers a minute acquaintance with the geography of the countries which he traverses. He can even draw a rude outline of them by applying a mixture of charcoal and grease to prepared skins, and on seeing a regular map he soon understands its construction, and readily finds out places. His facility in discovering the most direct way to spots situated at the distance of hundreds of miles, and known perhaps only bythe report of his countrymen, is truly astonishing. It has been ascribed by some to a mysterious and supernatural instinct, but it appears to be achieved by merely observing the different aspect of the trees or shrubs when exposed to the north or the south, as also the position of the sun, which he can point out, although hidden by clouds. Even where there is a beaten track, if at all circuitous, he strikes directly through the woods, and reaches his destination by the straightest possible line.

Other faculties of a higher order are developed by the scenes amid which the life of savages is spent. They are divided into a number of little communities, between which are actively carried on all the relations of war, negotiation, treaty, and alliance. As mighty revolutions, observes an eloquent writer, take place in these kingdoms of wood and cities of bark, as in the most powerful civilized states. To increase the influence and extend the possessions of their own tribe, to humble and, if possible, to destroy those hostile to them, are the constant aims of every member of those little commonwealths. For these ends, not only deeds of daring valour are achieved, but schemes are deeply laid, and pursued with the most accurate calculation. There is scarcely a refinement in European diplomacy to which they are strangers. The French once made an attempt to crush the confederacy of the Five Nations by attacking each in succession; but as they were on their march against the first tribe, they were met by the deputies ofthe others, who offered their mediation, intimating that, if it were rejected, they would make common cause with the one threatened. That association also showed that they completely understood how to employ the hostility which prevailed between their enemy and the English for promoting their own aggrandizement. Embassies, announced by the calumet of peace, are constantly passing from one tribe to another.

The same political circumstances develop in an extraordinary degree the powers of oratory; for nothing of any importance is transacted without a speech. On every emergency a council of the tribe is called, when the aged and wise hold long deliberations for the public weal. The best speakers are despatched to conduct their negotiations, the object of which is unfolded in studied harangues. The functions of orator, among the Five Nations, had even become a separate profession, held in equal or higher honour than that of the warrior; and each clan appointed the most eloquent of their number to speak for them in the public council. Nay, there was a general orator for the whole confederacy, who could say to the French governor, “Ononthio, lend thine ear; I am the mouth of all the country; you hear all the Iroquois in hearing my word.” Decanesora, their speaker at a later period, was greatly admired by the English, and his bust was thought to resemble that of Cicero. In their diplomatic discourses, each proposition is prefaced by the delivery of a belt of wampum, of which whatfollows is understood to be the explanation, and which is to be preserved as a record of the conference. The orator does not express his proposals in words only, but gives to every sentence its appropriate action. If he threatens war, he wildly brandishes the tomahawk; if he solicits alliance, he twines his arms closely with those of the chief whom he addresses; and if he invites friendly intercourse, he assumes all the attitudes of one who is forming a road in the Indian manner, by cutting down the trees, clearing them away, and carefully removing the leaves and branches. To a French writer, who witnessed the delivery of a solemn embassy, it suggested the idea of a company of actors performing on a stage. So expressive are their gestures, that negotiations have been conducted and alliances concluded between petty states and communities who understood nothing of one another’s language.

The composition of the Indian orators is studied and elaborate. The language of the Iroquois is even held to be susceptible of an Attic elegance, which few can attain so fully as to escape all criticism. It is figurative in the highest degree, every notion being expressed by images addressed to the senses. Thus, to throw up the hatchet or to put on the great caldron is to begin a war; to throw the hatchet to the sky is to wage open and terrible war; to take off the caldron or to bury the hatchet is to make peace; to plant the tree of peace on the highest mountain of the earth is to make ageneral pacification. To throw a prisoner into the caldron is to devote him to torture and death; to take him out, is to pardon and receive him as a member of the community. Ambassadors coming to propose a full and general treaty say, “We rend the clouds asunder, and drive away all darkness from the heavens, that the sun of peace may shine with brightness over us all.” On another occasion, referring to their own violent conduct, they said, “We are glad that Assarigoa will bury in the pit what is past; let the earth be trodden hard over it, or, rather, let a strong stream run under the pit to wash away the evil.” They afterward added, “We now plant a tree, whose top will reach the sun, and its branches spread far abroad, and we shall shelter ourselves under it, and live in peace.” To send the collar under ground is to carry on a secret negotiation; but when expressing a desire that there might be no duplicity or concealment between them and the French, they said that “They wished to fix the sun in the top of the heaven, immediately above that pole, that it might beat directly down and leave nothing in obscurity.” In pledging themselves to a firm and steady peace, they declared that they would not only throw down the great war-caldron, and cause all the water to flow out, but would break it in pieces. This disposition to represent every thing by a sensible object extends to matters the most important. One powerful people assumed the appellation of Foxes, while another gloried inthat of Cats. Even when the entire nation bore a different appellation, separate fraternities distinguished themselves as the tribe of the Bear, the Tortoise, and the Wolf. They did not disdain a reference even to inanimate things. The Black Caldron was at one time the chief warrior of the Five Nations; and Red Shoes was a person of distinction well known to Long the traveller. When the chiefs concluded treaties with Europeans, their signature consisted in a picture, often tolerably well executed, of the beast or object after which they chose to be named.

The absence among these tribes of any written or even pictorial mode of recording events, was supplied by the memories of their old men, which were so retentive, that a certain writer calls them living books. Their only remembrancer consisted in the wampum belts; of which one was appropriated to each division of a speech or treaty, and had seemingly a powerful effect in calling it to recollection. On the close of the transaction, these were deposited as public documents, to be drawn forth on great occasions, when the orators, and even the old women, could repeat verbatim the passage to which each referred. Europeans were thus enabled to collect information concerning the revolutions of different tribes, for several ages preceding their own arrival.

In March, 1823, a Choctaw savage, calling himself Doctor Sibley, belonging to a wandering tribe of his nation, in the Arkansas Territory,—while in a state of intoxication, stabbed to the heart another Indian; who instantly expired. This act called for revenge, founded on thelex taliones—that invariable custom of the aborigines. A brother of the deceased called upon Sibley, and told him, that he was come to take his life, in atonement for the death of his brother. With the composure of a philosopher, and the courage of a Roman, Sibley—readily, and without a murmur—yielded assent; only desiring the execution might be postponed until the following morning. This was granted;—the execution was postponed—and Sibleyleft at large, under no restraint whatever!

When the morning came, Sibley went out with the rest of the party, and, with perfect apathy, aided in digging a grave for the murdered Indian. The work being finished, he calmly observed to the by-standers, that he thought it large enough to contain two bodies;—signifying, at the same time, a wish to be buried in the same grave. This, too, was granted: and the murderer deliberately took a standing position over the grave, with outstretched arms; and, giving a signal to fire, the brother drove a rifle ball through his heart—and he dropt into the hole he had assisted to make!

“He once told a lie”—was the emphatical expression of an Indian to me, in 1794, when I was attending to the surveying of a large body of lands in, what was then called, ‘The French-Creek Country,’ and West of the Alleghany River: and, as some of my people were killed by the Western Indians, I found it necessary, while the surveying was going on, to visit the Indian Towns on the Alleghany River frequently:—they were inhabited by the Senecas. General Wayne was then on his way, with his army, to the Indian settlements on the Miami River.

One day, when I was at the Cornplanter’s town, the ‘News-Spout,’ as it is called, was heard. All the Indians in the village immediately retired to their houses (and even their dogs went with them;) when an old man went out to meet the person who brought the news, and to take him to the Long, or Council-House, where a fire was made and refreshments were carried to him, and time given for him to dress and paint himself, so as to appear decent.

When sufficient time had elapsed for the preparatives to be performed, the chiefs went first to the house; and, as the young men were following, I asked an Indian—who spoke English, and to whom (as he professed to be a priest, physician, and conjurer) I gave the name of Doctor—whether there was any improprietyin my going to hear the news. He said, “No”—and that, as I was received as a friend and visiter, all their houses were open to me: and if I did not go without any ceremony, it would appear as ifI doubted their words and hospitality; which was considered as the greatest affront that could be put on an Indian. For that, if there was any secret business going on, they would inform me of it, in a friendly way; and then I might retire.

I accordingly went into the house with him; when the Chiefs immediately rose, and gave me a seat among them.

All the Indians in the house were smoking their pipes when I came in; and the stranger was sitting opposite the Chiefs, in a seat, or rather a platform, by himself. The time appeared to me very long, as I was anxious to hear the news; being much interested in the event, as the Indians had been deliberating, whether or not they would permit me to continue surveying, or send me out of the country: and, what surprised me, was, that no one—contrary to their usual custom—asked him for the news; and I was at a loss to account for their conduct. Eventually, the Indian himself—after prefacing the business, with telling them, he had no doubt,—as they knew he had been to the West—they would be gratified in hearing his news. But no one appeared to signify his assent or negative. The Indian then gave an account of an affair between a convoy of Americans—who were carrying reinforcementsand provisions to one of our frontier posts—and the Indians; and they had killed the commanding officer and a number of our men: and, after he had related all he had to say, no one asked for any particulars of the action, or for any corroborating circumstance; as I had formerly observed, they were particularly polite to strangers and visiters, and were very cautious to say or do any thing to hurt their feelings, and, soon after, the chiefs and other Indians began to leave the house.

I left the house with the Doctor; and, as soon as we had passed the door, I expressed my surprise to him, at the manner they treated the man who brought the news, as it was so different from any treatment I had before seen, when visited by strangers; and that I would thank him to inform me of the cause of it:—when he, without any hesitation, and with considerable emphasis, answered, “He once told a lie”—and continued: “What that man said, may be so true; may be so not. We always listen to what a newsman has to say,—even when we know him to be a liar. But, whether we believe him or not, it is not our custom to let him know; or to say any thing on the subject: for, if we had asked him any questions about the fight, it would have been a great gratification to him; as he would have concluded some of the company did believe him: which is a thing we do not indulge any person in, who has been guilty of telling a lie.” He concluded, by saying, “He all one as dead.”

Peter Otsaquette was the son of a man of consideration among the Oneida Indians of New York. At the close of the Revolutionary war, he was noticed by the Marquis de La Fayette, who, to a noble zeal for liberty, united the most philanthropic feelings. Viewing, therefore, this young savage with peculiar interest, and anticipating the happy results to be derived from his moral regeneration, he took him, though scarcely twelve years old, to France. Peter arrived at that period when Louis XVI. and Maria Antoinette were in the zenith of their glory. There he was taught the accomplishments of a gentleman;—music, drawing, and fencing, were made familiar to him, and he danced with a grace that a Vestris could not but admire. At about eighteen, his separation from a country in which he had spent his time so agreeably and so profitably, became necessary. Laden with favours from the Marquis, and the miniatures of those friends he had left behind, Peter departed for America—inflated, perhaps, with the idea, that the deep ignorance of his nation, with that of the Indians of the whole continent, might be dispelled by his efforts, and he become the proud instrument of the civilization of thousands.

Prosecuting his route to the land of his parents, he came to the city of Albany; not the uncivilized savage, not with any of those markswhich bespoke a birth in the forest, or years spent in toiling the wilds of a desert, but possessing a fine commanding figure, an expressive countenance, an intelligent eye, with a face scarcely indicative of the race from which he was descended. He presented, at this period, an interesting spectacle: a child of the wilderness was beheld about to proceed to the home of his forefathers, having received the brilliant advantages of a cultivated mind, and on his way to impart to the nation that owned him, the benefits which civilization had given him. It was an opportunity for the philosopher to contemplate, and to reflect on the future good this young Indian might be the means of producing.

Shortly after his arrival in Albany—where he visited the first families—he took advantage of Governor Clinton’s journey to Fort Stanwix (where a treaty was to be held with the Indians,) to return to his tribe. On the route, Otsaquette amused the company (among whom were the French Minister, Count De Moustiers, and several gentlemen of respectability) by his powers on various instruments of music. At Fort Stanwix, he found himself again with the companions of his early days, who saw and recognised him. His friends and relations had not forgotten him, and he was welcomed to his home and to his blanket.

But that which occurred soon after his reception, led him to a too fearful anticipation of an unsuccessful project; for the Oneidas, as if they could not acknowledge Otsaquette, attiredin the dress with which he appeared before them,—a mark which did not disclose his nation,—and, thinking that he had assumed it, as if ashamed of his own native costume, the garb of his ancestors, they tore it from him with a savage avidity, and a fiend-like ferociousness, daubed on the paint to which he had been so long unused, and clothed him with the uncouth habiliments held sacred by his tribe. Their fiery ferocity, in the performance of the act, showed but too well the bold stand they were about to take against the innovations they supposed Otsaquette was to be the agent for affecting against their immemorial manners and customs, and which, from the venerable antiquity of their structure, it would be nothing short of sacrilege to destroy.

Thus the reformed savage was taken back again to his native barbarity, and—as if to cap the climax of degradation to a mind just susceptible of its own powers—wasmarried to a squaw!

From that day, Otsaquette was no longer the accomplished Indian, from whom every wish of philanthropy was expected to be realized. He was no longer the instrument by whose power the emancipation of his countrymen from the thraldom of ignorance and superstition, was to be effected. From that day, he was again an inmate with the forest; was once more buried in his original obscurity, and his nation only viewed him asan equal. Even a liberal grant from the State, failed of securingto him that superior consideration among them which his civilization had procured for him with the rest of mankind. The commanding preeminence acquired from instruction, from which it was expected ambition would have sprung up, and acted as a double stimulant, from either the natural inferiority of the savage mind, or the predetermination of his countrymen—became of no effect, and, in a little time, was wholly annihilated. Otsaquette was lost! His moral perdition began from the hour he left Fort Stanwix. Three short months had hardly transpired, when Intemperance had marked him as her own, and soon hurried him to the grave. And, as if the very transition had deadened all the finer feelings of his nature, the picture given him by the Marquis—the very portrait of his affectionate friend and benefactor himself—he parted with!

Extraordinary and unnatural as the conduct of this educated savage may appear, the anecdote is not of a kind altogether unique; which proves, that little or nothing is to be expected from conferring a literary education upon those children of the forest:—An Indian, named George White-Eyes, was taken, while a boy, to the college at Princeton, where he received a classical education. On returning to his nation, he made some little stay in Philadelphia. He was amiable in his manners, and of modest demeanour, without exhibiting any trait of the savage whatever; but, no sooner had he rejoined his friends and former companions, inthe land of his nativity, than he dropped the garb and manners of civilization, and resumed those of the savage, and, drinking deep of their intoxicating cup, soon put a period to his existence.

Many other instances might be adduced, to show how ineffectual have been the attempts to plant civilization on savage habits, by means ofliteraryeducation—“Can the leopard change his spots?”


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