The belief of those untutored children of nature has an influence on

their conduct. Among them, the grand defect is, an erroneous estimate

of good and evil, right and wrong. But how much soever we may lament

their errors on these interesting points, we need not be surprised

at them; for how many, even in more enlightened communities, and with

clearer means of information, can scarcely be said to have sounder

principles or a better practice? A reverential and grateful sense of

the divine perfections and government, manifesting itself by a devout

regard to his institutions and obedience to his will, by benevolence,

integrity, candor and kindness towards men, and by sobriety and

industry, is too little valued and practised by many who enjoy the

light of revelation. Hitherto the Indians have learned little but vice

by their intercourse with white men.

Although they have no regular system of religious worship, yet they

have many superstitious notions; some of them of a more general,

others of a more local nature. The Mandans have their medicine stone,

which is their great oracle; and they believe with implicit confidence

whatever it announces. Every spring, and occasionally during summer,

a deputation, accompanied by jugglers, magicians, or conjurers, visits

the sacred spot, where there is a large stone, about twenty feet in

circumference, with a smooth surface: there the deputies smoke, taking

a few whiffs themselves, and then ceremoniously offering the pipe to

the stone. They leave their presents, and withdraw to some distance

during the night. Before morning, the presents have disappeared, the

Great Spirit having, according to their belief, taken them away; and

they read the destinies of their nation in some marks on the stone,

which the jugglers, who have made them, and secretly manage the whole

transaction, can easily decipher. The Minnetarees have also a stone of

the same kind.

On the northern bank of the lower part of the Missouri, there is

a singular range of rocks, rising almost perpendicularly about two

or three hundred feet above the level of the river. These rocks the

Indians call Wakon, or spirit, and on or near them, the neighboring

nations deposit most of their offerings to the Great Spirit, or Father

of life; because they imagine he either inhabits or frequently visits

those rocks, and offerings presented there will sooner attract his

notice and gain his favor than any where else. Those offerings consist

of various articles, among which eagles’ feathers are held in highest

estimation; and they are presented in order to obtain success in war or

hunting.

They believe also in the existence of evil spirits, but think these

malevolent beings gratify their malignity chiefly by driving away the

game, preventing the efficacy of medicine, or similar injuries. But

they do not always confine their operations to such petty mischiefs;

for Mackenzie, in his first voyage, was warned of a spirit, behind

a neighboring island, which swallowed up every person who approached

it: and near the White Stone river of the Missouri, there is an oblong

mound, about seventy feet high, called by the Indians the Mountain of

Little People, or Little Spirits which are supposed to be malignant

beings in human shape, about eighteen inches high, with remarkably

large heads. They are provided with sharp arrows, in the use of which

they are very expert; and they are always on the watch to kill those

who approach the mountain of their residence. The tradition is, that

many persons have fallen victims to their malevolence; and such is the

terror of them among the neighboring nations, that on no consideration

will they approach the mound.

Among the Indians, society is in the loosest state in which it can

possibly exist. They have no regular magistrates, no laws, no tribunals,

to protect the weak or punish the guilty. Every man must assert his

own rights, and avenge his own wrongs. He is neither restrained nor

protected by any thing but a sense of shame and the approbation or

disapprobation of his tribe. He acknowledges no master, and submits to

no superior authority; so that an Indian community seems like a mound

of sand on the sea-shore, which one gale has accumulated, and which the

next may disperse.

But, amidst this apparent disunion, the Indian is strongly attached

to his nation. He is jealous of its honor, proud of its success, and

zealous for its welfare. Guided by a few traditionary notions, and by

the opinion and example of those around him, he is ready to exert all

his energies, and sacrifice even life itself for his country. Here

sentiment and habit do more than wise laws can elsewhere accomplish.

Where all are equally poor, the distinctions founded on wealth

cannot exist; and among a people where experience is the only source

of knowledge, the aged men are naturally the sages of the nation.

Surrounded by enemies, and exposed to continual peril, the strongest,

boldest, and most successful warrior is highly respected; and the

influence gained in youth by courage and enterprise is often retained

in old age by wisdom and eloquence. In many of the tribes, the chiefs

have a sort of hereditary rank; but, in order to maintain it, they

must conciliate the good will of the most influential persons of

the community. They have nothing like monarchical revenues, pomp, or

authority, but maintain their distinction by bravery, good conduct and

generosity.

The most important concerns of the tribe are discussed in a council

composed of the chiefs and warriors, in which the principal chief

presides. Every member delivers his opinion with freedom, and is heard

with attention. Their proceedings are considered sacred, and are kept

a profound secret, unless it be thought the public good requires a

disclosure. In that case the decision, with the reasons on which it

is founded, is published by a member of the council, who recommends

a compliance with it. In the stillness of the morning or evening,

this herald marches through the village, solemnly communicating the

information, and giving suitable exhortations. He also instructs the

young men and children how to behave, in order to gain the esteem of

good men, and the approbation of the Good Spirit.

The authority of the chiefs and warriors is hortatory rather than

coercive. They have influence to persuade, but not power to compel.

They are rather respected as parents and friends, than feared and

obeyed as superiors. The chief is merely the most confidential

person among the warriors; neither installed with any ceremony, nor

distinguished by any badge. He may recommend, or advise, or influence;

but he has no power to enforce his commands, or to punish disobedience.

In many of the tribes he gradually acquires his rank by his own

superior merit, and the good opinion of his companions; and he may

lose his authority as he gained it.

The people commonly settle their controversies among themselves, and

do not apply to their chiefs, except for advice. In some of the tribes,

peace is preserved and punishment inflicted in a very summary manner

by officers appointed by the chief for that purpose. These officers are

distinguished by having their bodies blackened, and by having two or

three ravens’ skins fixed in their girdles behind, so that the tails

project horizontally. They have also a raven’s skin, with the tail

projecting from their forehead. These officers, of whom there are two

or three in a village, and who are frequently changed, beat any person

whom they find acting in a disorderly manner. Their authority is held

sacred, and none dares resist them. They often attend the chief, and

consider it a point of honor to execute his orders at any risk.

The eloquence of the Indian orators occasionally displays itself in

strong and figurative expressions, accompanied with violent but not

unnatural gesticulations. Many of their speeches are on record; and

some, for rhetorical effect, would do credit to the parliament of a

refined nation.

The wars of the Indians most commonly originate in the stealing of

horses, or in the elopement of squaws; sometimes in encroachments on

their hunting grounds, or in the prosecution of old quarrels, and the

desire of avenging the murder of relations. These wars are conducted

in a predatory manner.

A single warrior sometimes undertakes an expedition against the enemy;

but, in cases of great provocation, the whole tribe engages in the

enterprise, under the conduct of the principal chief. Even in this case,

however, none but volunteers join the army: no one is obliged to march

against his will.

War is often carried on by a small predatory party, formed by the

influence of some approved warrior. Among the Omawhas, the warrior

paints himself with white clay, and marches through the village, crying

aloud to the _Wahconda_, or _Father of life_, and entreating the young

warriors of the nation to have pity on him, and to accompany him in

an expedition against their enemies. He gives a feast to those who

are willing to follow him; and it is distinctly understood that they

who partake of his hospitality pledge themselves to be partners in his

enterprise. At the feast he harangues them, and tells them they must

gain celebrity by their martial prowess. This leader of the party,

to whom the French gave the name of partisan, busies himself, before

setting out, in making medicine, hanging out his medicine bag, fasting,

attending to his dreams, and other superstitious observances. On the

medicine bag, much reliance is placed for the successful termination

of the adventure. It usually contains the skin of a sparrow-hawk,

and a number of small articles, such as wampum beads and tobacco,

all attached to a belt, neatly enveloped in bark, and tied round with

strings of the same material. It is of a cylindrical shape, about

one, or sometimes two feet long, and is suspended on the back of

the partisan by its belt, which passes round his neck. The moccasons,

leggins, and arms of the party are put in order, and each warrior

furnishes himself with some provisions.

With the partisan at their head, the party set out, march cautiously,

following each other in a line, at a distance of two or three paces,

often treading in each others’ footsteps, that their number may not

be discovered, and they send out spies to explore their route. They

easily find out whether any persons have lately passed the same way,

by discerning their footsteps on the grass; and as they have to deal

with people whose organs of sense are as acute as their own, they are

careful, as far as possible, to conceal their own tracks. On halting,

the medicine bag is not allowed to touch the ground, but is suspended

on a forked stick, firmly fixed in the earth for that purpose. They

smoke to it, occasionally turning the stem of the pipe towards it,

towards the heavens, and towards the earth. The partisan carefully

attends to his dreams, and, if he think them ominous of evil, he at

times abandons the enterprise.

When the spies bring information that they are near the enemy, the

partisan opens his medicine bag, removes its barky envelope, and

suspends the contents from his neck, with the bird skin, wampum, and

other articles hanging down on his breast. This is the signal to

prepare for action. If they have time, they paint themselves and smoke:

they also paint their shields with rude representations of the objects

on which they rely for success. The partisan gives the order to advance,

and they move on with cautious steps, as their great aim is to fall

upon the enemy by surprise. If they succeed in this, the attack begins

with the horrible yell of the war-whoop. This is their only martial

music. They kill, indiscriminately, all who fall in their way; but

if discovered, they either make a hasty retreat, or rush to the attack

with impetuous but disorderly fury. If in the forest, they shelter

themselves behind trees; if on open ground, they leap nimbly from

side to side, to prevent the enemy from taking a steady aim, and cover

themselves with their bucklers.

Illustration: Otto Encampment.

It is not the mere killing of an enemy that confers the highest honor

on an Indian warrior, but the striking the body of his fallen foe on

the field of battle, and in presence of his friends, who are eager to

avenge his death. Scalping is an act of no small celebrity in Indian

warfare; and, in performing it, the victor sets one foot on the neck

of his dead or disabled enemy, entwines one hand in his hair, and, by

a few slashes of the scalping knife in his other, round the top of the

head, is enabled to pull off the skin with the hair. Carrying away the

scalp is simply a mark of victory, the taking of prisoners is reckoned

a high honor.

The wounded of the vanquished party are killed by the conquerors on the

field of battle, and their bodies shockingly mangled; the squaws so far

overcoming by habit the tender feelings of the female breast as to take

an active part in the inhuman scene. Indeed, they are more cruel than

the men.

In his lodge, the Indian is indolent, sedate, and apparently callous;

but in hunting, or in quest of an enemy, he is keen, indefatigable,

persevering: on the field of battle, he seems an infuriated demon:

so different are his appearances in different circumstances. The

victorious party bury their dead, or cover them with bushes or stones.

They remove their wounded in litters, borne on men’s shoulders; or, if

they have horses, on a car of two shafts, with a buffalo skin stretched

between them. They return rapidly to their village, and commonly halt

on some elevated ground in its vicinity. Their friends, eager to be

informed of the particulars of the expedition, hasten to meet them. The

party enters the village with savage pomp, ostentatiously exhibiting

the scalps which they have taken, raised on poles. Many of the warriors

bear the mark indicative of having drunk the blood of an enemy. This

consists in rubbing the hand all over with vermilion, and then pressing

it on the face and mouth, so as to leave a complete impression. On

those occasions, the wives of the warriors who have been engaged in

the enterprise, attire themselves in the dress of their husbands, and,

with rods in their hands, to which the scalps that have been taken are

attached, dance round a large red post, and, in concert with the young

warriors, sing the war and scalp songs. This barbarous dance, which

is repeated every night for some weeks, is charming to the squaws; a

circumstance which shows how far the human character may be perverted

by fashion and habit.

The Indians dance and sing at the same time: they have, however, but

little grace or variety in their movements, and little music in their

notes. Their musical instruments are a sort of drum, and a rattle, or

skin bag, with small shot or pebbles in it, which makes a noise when

shaken.

It is dangerous to meet a disappointed or defeated war party on

its return, as the warriors are apt to indemnify themselves for any

disappointment, defeat, or loss they may have sustained, by taking

the property and scalps of the first weak or unguarded party they may

encounter.

No offence against society is inquired into by the chiefs: stealing

from one of their own tribe, which is very rare, exposes the thief

to contempt; but cowardice is marked by the highest reprobation. When

they go to war, they keep a watchful eye on such of the young men as

are making their first essay in arms. If they display the necessary

qualifications, they are in due time admitted to the rank of warriors,

or, as they express it, of brave men. But if any give clear indications

of cowardice, on the return of the party, they are treated with neglect

and contempt. A coward is at times punished even with death.

The female prisoners are made slaves, a condition scarcely worse than

that of the other squaws. The young male prisoners are often adopted

by the families of the tribe which have taken them, and supply the

place of the members that have fallen in the expedition. Sometimes, on

returning to their village, the party show their prisoner a painted red

post, distant from twenty to forty yards, and bid him run and lay hold

of it. On each side of his course stand men and women with axes, sticks,

and other offensive weapons, ready to strike him as he passes. If he

instantly spring forward with agility, he may perhaps reach the post

without receiving a stroke, and is then safe, till a general council

of the warriors determine his fate; but if he fall, he is probably

despatched.

If the prisoner be rejected by the family to which he is offered,

he is then put to death with every circumstance of cruelty; and

the constancy and fortitude of the sufferer are as remarkable as the

barbarity of his murderers. The victim, fastened to a stake, sings his

death song, insults his tormentors, bears with unshrinking firmness the

most dreadful tortures, and expires without a groan. He triumphs in his

fortitude, not merely as a personal virtue, but chiefly as a national

characteristic. We are to seek the cause of this patient endurance

of the most excruciating pains, not in any nervous insensibility, any

constitutional apathy, any muscular rigidity of the Indian, but in the

sentiments which he has imbibed and the habits to which he has been

trained. He has been taught, from infancy, to consider courage and

fortitude as the glory of man; to endure privations and pain without a

murmur, and with an unsubdued heart, and to despise tortures and death;

and, in his last moments, he proves the efficacy of the education which

he has received. In these tragical scenes, the women always take an

active part; and their inhumanity, like the fortitude of the men,

springs from education.

Previous to their intercourse with Europeans, the arms of the Indians

were bows and arrows, spears, tomahawks, scalping knives, and war clubs.

Most of them, however, are now provided with fire arms; and, being

eager to procure them, their quantity is continually increasing. But

the use of these original weapons is far from being entirely superseded.

At times, the bow is formed of pieces of horn neatly spliced; but it is

more commonly made of wood. Formerly, the arrow was pointed with flint

or bone, but now generally with iron: the spear is pointed in a similar

manner. The tomahawk is a hatchet or war axe. The scalping knife is

used to cut and tear off the scalp, or integuments of the upper part

of the skull with the hair, of their fallen enemies, which the Indians

display as trophies of their victory, with as much exultation as

ancient heroes manifested in showing the arms of their vanquished foes.

The head of the war club is globular, and at times hollow, inclosing

pieces of metal, which make a gingling noise when a stroke is given.

Occasionally, the blade of a knife, or some other sharp instrument, is

fastened to the end of it at right angles. The tribes who dwell in the

depth of the forest have no bucklers, but shelter themselves behind

trees: those, however, who live in an open country, as on the banks

of the Missouri, use bucklers or shields of a circular form, about two

feet and a half in diameter, and composed of three or four folds of

buffalo’s skin, dried in the sun and hardened. These shields are proof

against arrows, but not against ball.

In all their acts of devotion, and on all occasions where their

confidence is to be won or their friendship secured, smoking is

regarded as an inviolable token of sincerity.

The pipe or calumet, as some have called it, is the symbol of peace

and the pledge of friendship. Among the rude dwellers of the desert,

it serves the same purposes as a flag of truce in the armies of more

civilized communities. The pipe is about four feet long; the bowl

made of stone or clay, and the stem of a light wood. It is differently

ornamented in different nations. The bearer of this sacred symbol of

friendship is seldom treated with disrespect, because they believe the

Great Spirit would not allow such an iniquity to escape with impunity.

Peace is concluded, and treaties ratified, by smoking. Wampum,

and wampum belts, are also commonly used on such occasions. Wampum,

formerly, and now among some tribes, the current coin of the Indians,

is formed of shells found on the coasts of New England and Virginia:

some of those shells are of a purple color, others white; but the

former are reckoned most valuable. They are cut into the shape of

oblong beads, about a quarter of an inch long, perforated, and strung

on a small leathern thong: several of these strings, neatly sewed

together by fine sinewy threads, form a belt, consisting of ten, twelve,

or more strings. The value of each bead, and, consequently, of each

string or belt, is exactly known. The size of the belt, which is often

about two feet long, and three or four inches broad, is proportioned to

the solemnity and importance of the occasion on which it is given. The

chiefs occasionally give strings to each other as tokens of friendship;

but belts are reserved for the ratification of national treaties, every

stipulation of which is recorded to posterity by the hieroglyphics on

the belt.

Tribes in amity occasionally apply to each other for a supply of their

wants. When one tribe is in need of any commodity with which another

is well provided, the needy tribe send a deputation of their number to

smoke with their wealthier neighbors, and to inform them of their wants;

and it would be a breach of Indian courtesy to send them away without

the expected supply. What they smoke is tobacco mixed with the inner

bark of the willow.

The Shoshonees, a band on the Rocky mountains, before smoking with

strangers, pull off their moccasons, in token of the sacred sincerity

of their professions; and by this act they not only testify their

sincerity, but also imprecate on themselves the misery of going

barefooted forever, if they prove unfaithful to their word.

A number of different languages are spoken by the Indians; and, in

some cases, different dialects of the same language are found among

different tribes.

The original languages, beside that of the Esquimaux, are said to

be principally three,――the Iroquois, the Lenni Lenape, or Delaware,

and the Floridian. These languages are so distinct, as to have no

perceivable affinity. The Iroquois was spoken by the Iroquois or Six

Nations, and several other tribes. The Iroquois, or Six Confederated

Nations, so famous in Indian history, and once so formidable by their

numbers, laws, and military prowess, are the Mohawks, Oneidas, Senecas,

Cayugas, Onondagoes, and Tuscaroras. The Delaware language was spoken

by many nations in the middle provinces; and the Floridian by the

Creeks, Choctaws, Cherokees, Chickasaws, and other tribes in the

southern states. Those languages are said to be copious and expressive:

they often consist of long compounds, and comprise many ideas in one

word.

The following observations on this interesting race of men are

furnished by a person who has spent many years in intimate contact with

several tribes of the north-west, and may, therefore, be considered

good authority. He writes expressly for this work.

‘There are few topics on which so much has been written, and to

so little purpose, as the character, manners, habits and origin of

the aborigines of North America. Novelists, poets, travellers and

philosophers have all failed to convey an adequate idea of them. This

arises, in our opinion, in a great measure, from the modern propensity

to generalization. A writer who has been present at an Indian council,

has seen the _nonchalant_ demeanor of the chiefs, and has heard the

tropes and metaphors with which they garnish their discourse, gravely

states that the self-possession of all Indians can never be disturbed

by any circumstances, and that the refinements of poetry and oratory

are as familiar in their mouths as household words. Another, who sees

the women performing the hard labor of their families, while the men

stand idly by, pronounces that squaws are regarded as slaves. Now

our experience assures us that the premises, on which such general

conclusions are based, are almost always fallacious.

‘Little need be said concerning the origin of the American natives.

The most probable conclusion is, that they immigrated into the new

continent via Behring’s strait; but whether they came by that route, or

crossed the Atlantic from Wales, or the Pacific, from Japan, certain it

is that their physical peculiarities plainly distinguish them from all

the races of the old world. We judge it safe to entertain an opinion

once expressed in our presence by an old Indian. ‘Why must we have

descended from your fathers?’ said he. ‘Is it not as reasonable to

suppose that God created the Indian where he now is, as that he made

the white man in the garden you have been talking about?’ This idea,

if not sanctioned by the Mosaic account of the creation is, at least,

not contradicted by it. We count the resemblances, which exist between

the customs and traditions of certain tribes in both continents, as of

very little importance. People living in different countries by similar

pursuits, most necessarily fall into similar observances. Every tribe

that lives on the banks of a stream or the ocean, must have witnessed

a high tide or an overflow, and hence the almost universal tradition

of a deluge. In our opinion, no importance ought to be attached to the

accounts of Indians of their own origin. Some septs, like the Pawnees

and Choctaws, say they sprang from the earth, the Incas descended from

the sun, the Osages are contented with such progenitors as a snail and

a beaver.

‘The idea that the present race of aborigines dispossessed a race

more advanced in civilization and less warlike than themselves, seems

to us to rest on no real foundation. The articles found with skeletons

exhumed from barrows, are still in use among the more remote tribes.

Indians still, occasionally, construct rude fortifications. The pottery,

on which antiquarians rely as illustrative of this favorite theory, is

made and used to this day by the remote Dahcotahs and Assinneboins. If

the field works found in different parts of the country be adduced as

proofs of the civilization of the supposed former race, we answer that

they do not betoken the tenth part of the ingenuity displayed in the

construction of a birch canoe.

‘The aborigines of America have generally been esteemed to be divided

into two distinct races, viz. the Esquimaux and the red Indians. We

doubt that the races are distinct. The Esquimaux are, indeed, milder

in character, and less perfect in physical conformation than their

southern neighbors; but is not the difference owing to climate and mode

of life? Fishermen, and especially such fishermen as the Esquimaux,

whose whole time and care is requisite to preserve life, cannot be

warriors. People who, like the Esquimaux, live upon scanty food in an

inhospitable clime, must necessarily be dwarfish. Bear witness tribes

who live in the same manner on the old continent. Besides, captain

Franklin informs us that those of this people who inhabit a less

inhospitable coast than their brethren (those east of the Coppermine

river) are of the ordinary stature of mankind.

‘Turning round Icy cape, we find the tribes along the north-west

coast gradually losing the characteristics of Esquimaux, and assuming

those of the red Indians. We are at a loss to divine, from the accounts

of Cook, Kotzebue and Jewett, which of the two races the tribes of

that region most resemble. At Nootka Sound, the savages are fishermen

like the Esquimaux, and hunters and warriors like the tribes of

the Mississippi. Wherever we find a tribe relying upon fisheries

as a principal means of subsistence, we find the moral and physical

character approximating toward that of the Esquimaux. In short, we see

no difference between the two races which may not have been produced by

something less than the will of the Almighty.

‘The physical appearance of the Indians has been too often described

to need notice here. It is impossible even to conjecture what their

number may be. Some idea of this may be gained from the fact that the

Dahcotahs, who are able to muster six or seven thousand fighting men,

scarcely support themselves on a tract of land eight hundred miles

long and as many in breadth. Other tribes, who rely in some degree upon

agriculture and fishing, are more thickly settled. Others, who occupy

less favored regions, are less so.

‘Two great families of Indians seem, from time immemorial, to have

occupied the country between the Rocky mountains and the Atlantic, viz.

the Dahcotahs, and the Chippeway, or Algonquin race. The former are

divided into a great number of independent tribes, whose origin may be

traced by similarity of language, habits and manners. The parent stock

is divided into several septs, which are again subdivided into a great

many minor hordes. The principal divisions are these: Munday Wawkantons,

Sussetons, Wakhpaytons, Wawkhpaykootays, Yanktows and Tetons. These

last live high upon the Missouri, and have little intercourse with the

rest. The Assinneboins, a numerous and powerful tribe, who roam over

the prairies between the Missouri and the Saskatchawayn, seceded from

the Dahcotahs little more than a century ago, and a bloody war was

long waged between them and the parent race. A woman was the cause of

quarrel. The Winnebagoes and Otoes, renowned for desperate bravery, the

Ioways, the Osages, the Omahaws and many other western tribes, claim

affinity with the Dahcotahs, and speak dialects of their tongue. The

tradition concerning their origin, to which we give most credit, says,

that they all came from Mexico at the time of the invasion of Cortez.

The Winnebagoes hold the Spaniards in abhorrence to this day. Such of

these tribes as inhabit the prairie region are vagrant, and live mainly

by hunting the buffalo. A description of one will be a description

of all of them. They are, generally, of the middle stature of mankind,

and it is rare to see a Dahcotah who much exceeds or falls short of

it, or who is in any wise deformed. They are beautifully formed: it

is as rare to see an ill-made Dahcotah as a well-made white man. They

are not muscular, nor are they so agile as whites commonly are; but in

recompense, their powers of endurance are very great. They seem utterly

insensible of fatigue, and patient of hunger, pain, and all other

hardships.

‘Neither these, nor any other Indians with whom we are acquainted, are

at all remarkable for gravity in their social intercourse. They are

more taciturn, indeed, than the whites; but this is the result rather

of circumstance than of education. Spending much time alone, they

acquire a habit of silence; having fewer ideas than civilized men, they

have fewer inducements to discourse. The conversation that does take

place among them, however, is by no means characterized by reserve or

by the absence of hilarity. In councils and on solemn occasions, it is

judged decorous and proper to give no indication of feeling, and hence

an apathetic gravity has long been thought a distinguishing attribute

of the Indian character. Even were the assumption just, the aborigines

would be no more remarkable in this respect than most modern Asiatic

nations.

‘The character of Indians in general seems to have been viewed by most

writers through a false medium, and their qualities have been inferred

from the nature of their intercourse with white men. This is a false

standard; to know them, one should live long among them and watch their

social relations. Thus seen, they appear to much greater advantage than

when hanging upon the frontiers doing or suffering wrong, and debasing

themselves by theft, beggary and intemperance.

‘It will not be denied by any who know them, that those Indians

who have not been corrupted by the whites are sincerely pious. They

universally believe in one all-wise, benevolent and powerful God, to

whom, however, they never pray; for, they say, he knows better what

is good for them than they do themselves. Nothing shocks them more

than to hear his name mentioned with irreverence by the whites. They

also believe in an evil principle, whom they pray to do them no harm.

They people all animated nature with inferior spirits, and to these

they offer prayers and sacrifices. Their superstitions are numberless.

They believe in a future state, and the world of spirits is, in their

opinion, a fine hunting-ground, where the vexations and sufferings of

this life will be unknown. Each man has what he calls his medicine;

that is, he thinks fit to consider his fate and fortunes dependent on

some animal, and that animal he will neither kill, eat, or treat with

disrespect. In short, they have an infinite variety of such observances,

and there is little uniformity in the belief of individuals.

‘Their priests are mere jugglers, who practise various mummeries, and

are also, as is common among savages, physicians and surgeons, and,

indeed, they mix medicine and religion together. A cure is effected

by songs and superstitious rites as well as by the use of simples. The

juggler’s voice and rattle are seldom still near the couch of a sick

man. We are yet to learn that these quacks are much respected in their

sacerdotal character, or that any great importance is attached to their

ceremonies by the majority of the laity. One merit they have, and that

is their skill in rough surgery. We have seen them effect astonishing

cures. It may not be amiss to mention one, by way of example. A hunter

was grappled by a bear, that he had wounded, and dreadfully lacerated.

His arm was broken in several places, and all who saw it thought he

must die or submit to amputation. An Indian surgeon, however, undertook

the cure and effected it. It is true that he was three years about it,

and perhaps the abstemious habits of the patient were a main cause of

his recovery.

‘As to government, the Dahcotah race have no king, and every man does

what seems right in his own eyes. They have chiefs, indeed, who have,

by tacit consent, the power of making treaties, and of transacting the

business of their followers. Sometimes they lead in war, but, save on

such occasions, authority they have none. They may advise, but cannot

command. They receive no reward for their services, nor do they wear

any badge of their rank. Indeed they are usually worse dressed and

provided than other individuals, because it is considered peculiarly

the duty of chiefs to be generous. The office is hereditary in

families, but not in the direct line of descent. If the heir apparent

be notoriously ineligible, he is set aside, and a more worthy kinsman

takes his place. Highly distinguished warriors become war chiefs

through the respect paid to their valor. Each village has one of these,

who is called the war chief, to distinguish him from the hereditary

leader. He rules in war, but not in civil affairs. Sometimes a chief

acquires absolute power, but of that kind which strong minds gain over

weak ones, and it behoves every leader to bear his faculties meekly.

‘Laws the Dahcotahs have none; but they have customs which have the

force of laws, and which are seldom broken. Thus a man may have as

many wives as he can maintain. Adultery is punished by cutting off the

nose of the offending wife; the wife cuts the clothes of the offending

husband to pieces. Life is taken for life, unless the homicide can

appease the friends of the dead by the payment of a ransom. The

murderer invariably gives himself up to punishment, for to fear death

is considered the acme of dishonor. When minor offences are committed,

the injured party kills the dogs and horses of his enemy, or destroys

his tent before his eyes, and in such cases no resistance is offered.

Divorces are at the option of the husband. Theft is not regarded as

a crime; indeed, property is nearly in common among them, so that

no theft can be committed. They apply this standard of morals to the

whites, and so get the reputation of thieves, while themselves are

unconscious of wrong doing. It is, in our opinion, this very community

of goods that is the principal obstacle to their civilization and

improvement; for it cannot be expected that one man will sow for all

the world to reap, or that he will weary his limbs in the chase to

obtain what will not belong to him or his family. Those tribes who

hold the right of property in most esteem, as, for example, the Saques

and Foxes, have made the greatest advances in civilization.

‘Another obstacle to the civilization of our aborigines is their

unconquerable indolence. The savage is content with the bare

necessaries of life; he neither knows nor cares for its luxuries and

superfluities. Necessity only will compel him to exertion. Tribes,

whose limits have been so circumscribed by the whites that they cannot

live by the chase, have resorted to labor for subsistence; but we think

no other force of reason or circumstance will bring about such a result.

‘However strange such an assertion may appear, we confidently

affirm that Indians are not more revengeful than other people. They

have the same feelings and passions as other men, neither stronger

nor weaker. They are kind to each other. Every offence but murder is

readily forgiven, and even that crime seldom finds its due punishment.

Nine murderers out of ten among them go down to the grave in peace.

An Indian rarely goes much out of his way for revenge. Time and

opportunity being ministered, an individual will wreak a long-smothered

resentment, and so, we presume, would any other man, if freed from the

restraints of law. We take it upon us to say that murders are not so

frequent among them as with ourselves, and that these, as well as all

minor injuries, are not so often or so fearfully avenged by Indians as

by white men. As it regards wrongs committed by enemies of the tribe,

the case is different. These, the savage is taught, it is his duty to

requite upon any member of the hostile nation. Such vengeance it is

his glory to take, and it is one of the first requisitions of his moral

code.

‘The courage of Indians is not to be measured by our standard. In a

mere clan, the loss of an individual is severely felt. It subtracts

largely from the strength of the band and the happiness of his family.

Discretion, therefore, is considered the better part of valor. The war

chief who conquers the enemy does well; but he who conquers without

loss to himself does infinitely better. It is thought honorable to

avoid risk as much as possible, and the decision of quarrels by single

combat is called folly and madness. But when they have resolved on

battle, no people strive more valiantly. Our history bears witness of

the furious energy of their valor. Their ideas of moral courage might

be adopted with advantage by all who call them savages. They think

it weak and cowardly to yield to grief or anger; misfortune and pain

they scorn, and death they endure not only without a murmur, but

with cheerfulness. Suicide under any circumstances they brand as the

strongest evidence of lack of courage.

‘Of the cruelty of Indians to conquered enemies, this only can be said,

that it is the vice of all barbarians, that they know not what they do,

that it is only exercised on their avowed foes, and that it is almost

always perpetrated in the heat of blood. Captives, once spared, fare

no worse than their conquerors. The sense of honor among Indians is,

in some respects, very strong; in others, not so. It will not prevent

an individual from falsehood, treachery, promise-breaking, flattery,

beggary and a multitude of other offences. It will deter him from labor,

which he considers the exclusive business of women, it forbids him to

shun death, it commands him to requite a disgraceful blow with a stab,

it forbids him to boast of deeds he never achieved, it commands him

to sacrifice himself for the good of his tribe. Its scope is not very

extensive; but where it operates, it operates effectually.

‘In their domestic relations, they are essentially, but not ostensibly

kind. They provide for their families, they love their wives and

children; but thinking it womanish to manifest the affections, they

are not fond husbands or fathers. Tatunkah Nazhee, the best hunter

of the Dahcotahs, lost his wife and five children by the hands of the

Chippeways. The only sign of grief he displayed was painting his face

black. Yet he abandoned his usual occupations, and pursued the enemy

till he had taken life for life. “This,” said he, “is the best way of

mourning for the dead.”

‘Indian hospitality and charity have no limit. No stranger enters their

tents to whom they do not give meat: no person goes to them in need

whom they do not relieve to the extent of their ability, and often to

their great inconvenience. They will not look upon an execution, they

will not suffer a person who has wronged them to be whipped for it, and

the idea of imprisoning a man for debt, or for a petty violation of the

rights of property, fills them with horror.

‘Some years ago, the old chief of a Dahcotah band was robbed by a

drunken soldier of eighteen ducks, which he had killed for the use of

his family. The offender was detected, compelled to make restitution,

and fastened to the whipping-post. When the old man comprehended

the nature of the punishment about to be inflicted, he burst into

tears, and threw down half his game before the commanding officer.

“I will give you these,” said he, “if you will spare this man. Of what

consequence are a few ducks?” The man had committed violence on the

chiefs person. Which of the two best deserved to be called a savage?

‘In short, to end our remarks on the Dahcotah character, which is,

with some trivial alterations, the character of most Indian tribes, we

may say that their moral code is grievously defective, but that, such

as it is, they adhere rigidly to it. Considering their ignorance, their

extreme necessities and their wrongs, it is wonderful that their moral

degradation is not deeper than it is. Their code is adapted to their

mode of life, and it is only by applying it to others, who have more

to lose and less to gain than themselves, that they become disagreeable

and dangerous neighbors to the whites. An incessant irritation is the

consequence, hatred succeeds, mutual wrong follows, and war consummates

the drama.

‘Those of the tribes of Dahcotah origin who live on the Mississippi,

and other wooded countries, live on the deer and other game of the

forest. By entrapping the fur-clad animals, they get the means of

buying guns, cloth and other articles, which have become indispensably

necessary to them. In the summer, they live in permanent villages,

and cultivate a little corn. The women perform this, as well as all

other labors, and do not consider themselves aggrieved thereby. It

is said that, as the men encounter the fatigues and perils of the

chase, the dangers of war and the vicissitudes of the seasons, they

have their full share of domestic duties. The women being unfit for

these occupations, must fill the station which God has allotted to

them, and neither party thinks the distribution of offices unjust or

unreasonable. The women are sold, like the daughters of the patriarchs,

by their parents to their husbands, and they are chastised or commended

according to the degree of their industry or good conduct. Judging from

their general cheerfulness, they see no hardship in their lot. Jealousy

seems to be their chief annoyance, and often causes them to hang

themselves.

‘In winter, the hunters leave their villages, and encamp in leathern

tents on their hunting-grounds, removing from place to place as the

game is more or less abundant. They are plentifully supplied by the

traders with ammunition on credit, and pay their debts as they best

can in the spring. This system is highly injurious to the Indians,

and vexatious to the traders. As not more than half of the hunters pay

their debts, the trader is obliged to charge a double price for his

goods, in his own defence, and thus the honest and industrious Indians

pay for the idle and vicious. Still this is the fashion of their

fathers, and no persuasion will induce them to depart from it.

‘It only remains to be said of this portion of the race, that they live

from hand to mouth, hunting and fishing when they feel so inclined,

and fasting when the chances of the chase are against them. Few of them

perish by starvation. The only circumstance that varies the monotony of

their lives is war, and that they practise on so limited a scale that

it has no perceptible effect on their population or happiness.

‘The roving tribes, who live in the great plains of the west, differ

little in language or character from their more stationary brethren.

They encamp near the vast herds of buffaloes, kill as many as they

want, eat the flesh, dress in the skins, and sell as many robes to

the traders as will procure them cloth and guns. They are wilder and

more primitive than their neighbors, and more addicted to plunder and

massacre those who are not of their blood. They are generally well

mounted and armed with guns, bows and arrows, spears and shields. They

kill the buffalo at full speed. If the drove removes, they pluck up

their tents and follow. If any man frightens the cattle, certain police

officers, called soldiers, punish him by stripes and the destruction

of his horses and property. Their persons are held sacred, and no one

thinks of resisting them. Some of these wanderers are like the children

of Ishmael in that every man’s hand is against them, and their hand is

against every man. The Assinneboins are an example. Their time is spent

in indolence, war and the chase.

‘The wars of Indians among themselves are seldom very destructive. The

war chief dreams or pretends to dream that the enemy will be delivered

into his hands, and sets out for the field of strife with, perhaps,

twenty followers. The greatest caution is observed, and if the party

find reason to think that the enemy is apprised of their intention,

they turn back. If, however, their plans succeed, a small number of the

enemy are surprised and butchered. Few are ever spared. Within a few

months, this paltry onslaught is repaid in kind, and the account is

balanced. These wars have been from time immemorial, and will probably

continue till time shall be no more. Such is the modern state of Indian

warfare; but tradition tells of more serious hostilities. Hundreds

of Dahcotahs and Mandans perished less than a century ago in a battle

between the two tribes. The Assinneboins were once nearly exterminated

by the former tribe. Those times are gone, and a mightier influence is

sweeping the red men from the face of the earth.

‘The Algonquin or Chippeway race is even more widely extended than

the Dahcotahs. Judging from the remains of the languages which have

descended to our times, the entire aboriginal population of New

England sprung from this stock. Their manners and habits corroborate

this supposition. The Delawares are supposed to have had the same

origin. The language of the powerful and chivalrous Iroquois is said

to be allied to the Chippeway. The Saque and Fox tribes are evidently

branches of the same tree. The Ottawas and Pottawattamies claim the

same descent. It is thought that the Menomenies share the same blood.

The Kinisteneaux speak a dialect of the same tongue, and many other

tribes may be traced to the same origin. All these tribes are and

have ever been dwellers in the woods, and save that they now dress

in articles made by the whites and that they love rum, they are now

very nearly what they were two hundred years ago. They have proved

themselves possessed of some mechanical ingenuity by inventing the

birch canoe, a vehicle which has been the admiration of all travellers.

‘The Chippeway race differ little from other tribes living in the

woods, whose manners and habits are too well known to need comment

here. They are a nation of hunters and warriors, skilful in the chase,

bold in battle, eloquent in council, and, in a word, possessing all

the half-formed virtues, all the vices, all the ignorance and all

the barbarism already ascribed to the Dahcotahs. Those of them who

live in high northern latitudes, are more needy, and consequently

more industrious, than those who dwell in more favored climes. Between

this great nation and the Dahcotahs, a war has been waged so long

that tradition itself conveys no knowledge of its cause or the date of

its commencement. The deadly feud has been transmitted from father to

son with such inveteracy, that all efforts to staunch it have proved

abortive. A great deal of inherited hatred, and the strong thirst for

martial renown, which is an inherent part of Indian character, have

co-operated to perpetuate this state of things.

‘The language of these two great races are like no forms of speech

known in the old world. They are wonderfully expressive, both defective

and redundant, and said to be difficult of acquisition. The verbs

of the Dahcotah language appear to have no roots, and to be entirely

irregular in their modifications. The nominative case neither precedes

nor follows the verb, as in the languages of the old world, but is

incorporated with it, sometimes at the end of the word, sometimes in

the middle, sometimes abbreviated, and sometimes entire. We have known

traders to fail to acquire it during a trial of thirty years. From the

little acquaintance we were able to gain, we thought it a collection

of phrases, with scarce the resemblance of rule or order, and conclude

that, to be learned at all, it must be learned by rote.

‘We can give but brief notices of other tribes. The Creeks, Cherokees,

Chickasaws and Choctaws are known to us by their wrongs, and by

the advances they have made in civilization. The measures taken to

remove them beyond the Mississippi, already partially successful, will

probably ere long be fully so. It would be an ungrateful as well as

a useless task to enter into a discussion of a subject so generally

understood; nevertheless, it may not be impertinent to offer a few

remarks on the probable future fate of these unfortunate tribes.

‘We have already expressed our views respecting what we think the

only sure mode of civilizing Indians. That mode, or, in other words,

the necessity of a change of manners, was in successful operation

upon the four southern nations. By transferring them to an unlimited

range of territory, that necessity has been removed, and if they do

not relapse into their primitive barbarism, they are radically unlike

any other Indians with whom we are acquainted, or farther advanced in

civilization than we are prepared to believe. The influences which make

and continue the hunter state of the Indians, operate on the whites

also. For every Indian who has voluntarily relinquished the life of his

fathers, ten whites may be found who have become hunters.

‘It is proposed, by placing these tribes west of the Mississippi, to

protect them from the encroachments of the whites, an intention which

is certainly not founded on precedent or analogy. If the most solemn

treaties, if repeated retrocessions have not hitherto been adequate to

protect the savage from the overpowering tide of white population, how

can it be supposed that his new abode in Arkansas will be respected

when he shall have made it valuable, if indeed, he ever should make it

valuable? There, he is thrown in contact with other tribes, as warlike,

and more barbarous than his own, and much misery and bloodshed has

already been the consequence.

‘Moreover, it is proposed, by casting the lot of several distinct

tribes together, to amalgamate them, and thereby preserve them from

decay. If the experience of past times is to be trusted, this measure

is much more likely to produce division than to prevent it. Who ever

saw two Indian tribes amalgamate, unless when one, reduced to a mere

handful, sought the protection of the other? Thus the remnant of the

Saques sought protection of the Foxes, the Stockbridge Indians of the

Six Nations. On the other hand, we have only to refer to the Dahcotah

and Algonquin races, severally derived from two great roots, but now

divided into an almost infinite number of petty hordes. If people, thus

connected by the bonds of common origin and language, have so divided,

what is to be expected from others, who have no basis of union, and

who, in some instances, entertain hostile feelings toward each other?

We hope the best; but to us the future prospect of the expatriated

tribes appears overshadowed with clouds and darkness.

‘Beside the two great divisions already noticed, there are many

other tribes, of whose origin and languages little is known, save that

they are wholly distinct from each other. Such are the natives of the

Columbia river, for an account of whom we must refer the reader to the

travels of Lewis and Clarke, and of Roos Coxe. M’Kenzie and Franklin

tell all that is known of the Dog-rib and Coppermine Indians, two

feeble and miserable tribes which inhabit the frozen regions north

of the Great Slave lake. The Flat-heads, who live on the upper waters

of the Columbia, muster five hundred determined warriors, and derive

their name from their custom of compressing the head, in infancy, into

a hideously unseemly shape; a practice common to most of the tribes

of Oregon, and formerly in use among the Caraibs. They war upon their

eastern neighbors, the buffalo-following Blackfeet, a desperate and

ferocious tribe, who are friendly to the English, and abhor the very

name of an American. This animosity arose from the fact that one or two

of them were killed, more than thirty years ago, by Lewis and Clarke.

The Mandans and Minnetarees dwell in permanent villages on the Missouri,

speak distinct languages from each other, and from all other tribes,

and claim consanguinity with none. The Crows are a separate and

powerful race of vagrant horsemen, and so are the Shiannes, who were

formerly expelled by the Dahcotahs from the lands which the latter

now occupy. The Pawnees and Arikarees compose three tribes who speak

one language; the Pawnee Wolves are in no wise connected with them.

The Shoshonees live and starve among the Rocky mountains. Among other

distinct races may be numbered the Wyandots, or Hurons, the Comanches,

the Appaches, and many others. All of these tribes, excepting the

Wyandots, are more or less in the vagabond state, and ride over the

boundless prairies, chasing the buffalo, and warring upon all whom they

dare attack. All are bold warriors, skilful hunters, and inveterate

horse-stealers, in all of which characters they glory. The manners of

all are nearly alike; all practise the same indiscriminate hospitality;

all have the same code of morals, religion, and policy; almost

all detest the people of the United States, for what reasons it is

unnecessary here to inquire. By classing all these hordes together,

we do not mean to imply that there is no difference whatever in their

habits, ideas, and characters; but that there is a very strong general

resemblance between them all.

‘The Caraibs and the original inhabitants of the West Indies have

passed away, thanks to the cruelties of their Spanish invaders. Nothing

can be said of them which is, probably, not already known to the mass

of our readers. For an account of the Mexicans, and the Indians of

South America, we must refer to the pages of Humboldt, Robertson,

and other writers. Nor can it be expected that we should enter into

such details as may have come to our knowledge, respecting the tribes

already mentioned. Many volumes larger than this would be requisite for

such purpose. It is our duty, however, to caution our readers against

trusting the statements of such travellers as Carver, who have galloped

over the countries they describe with the speed of race-horses, without

understanding a syllable of the languages of the Indians with whom

they sojourned, and relying for information on the hearsay testimony of

ignorant trappers and boatmen. There are but too many of this stamp. If

we may say what authorities we consider unquestionable, we will mention

M’Kenzie, Henry, Franklin, Tanner, and the English Long. These all

sojourned long among the people they pretend to describe, and enjoyed

the best opportunities for personal observation.

‘One topic connected with the aborigines only remains, which we

must discuss briefly. It relates to their ultimate destiny, and the

prospect of christianizing and civilizing them. Many obstacles to

this desideratum exist, and we are sorry to add that they appear to

us insuperable. To convert the adults must be excessively difficult,

if not impossible. Firstly, their languages are so difficult of

acquisition, and so barren of words expressing abstract ideas, that

the greater part of a life is spent in learning them, and when acquired,

they are scarcely adequate to convey the doctrines of Christianity.

Secondly, the Indians are so constantly roaming about, and so scattered,

that, to instruct them, a missionary would be needed for every family,

who should accompany them in their peregrinations, avail himself

of such opportunities as their caprice might allow, and above all,

maintain himself; for, though no Indian would tell him so, the burthen

of his support would, at times, be severely felt. He must then overcome

that apathy and laziness which is the characteristic of savage life,

break up the whole of his pupil’s long-revered rules of thought and

action, and substitute others in their stead. A new ambition must

be awakened, and the whole frame of Indian society must be changed

entirely, for the ethics of our Savior will not apply to the present

one. For example, it will be difficult to persuade the savage to

meekness and long-suffering, while all his arts and exertions will

scarce protect his wives and children from the knives of his neighbors,

while all his companions tell him that revenge on the enemies of his

tribe is a sacred duty, and that martial renown ought to be to him as

the breath of his nostrils.

‘The missionary should not too much rely on the apparent impression he

may have produced on his auditors. Indians seldom contradict, and, by

an intuitive politeness, always receive what is addressed to them by

one whom they respect, with approbation and assent. Therefore, when an

Indian auditory may have listened to a discourse with marked attention

and expressed approbation, the speaker is not to suppose that they

believe a word of it. They only mean that he is entitled to respect.

An Indian once agreed that man’s first disobedience was improper, and,

being farther questioned, gave his reasons. “It was very foolish,” he

said, “to eat apples: it was much better to make cider of them all.”

‘Some few adults have, indeed, become Christians; but where such

conversions have taken place, the converts have either made some

previous progress in civilization, or the change has been nominal. We

never yet saw a savage hunter who had a rational idea of Christianity.

The example of the Cherokees alone shows that the ground must be

prepared to receive the seed. The missionaries have undoubtedly done

them great good; but they made little or no progress before the tribe

had turned to agriculture, framed laws and a regular government, and

acknowledged a distinction of property. They are now fitted to receive

the Word.

‘Indians taken from their tribe young, educated, and sent back, do not

appear better qualified to teach than white missionaries. They are, in

every thing but complexion, as much aliens among their people as the

whites, and command no more sympathy, and rather less respect.

‘We believe there is no example on record of a tribe who have changed

from hunters to farmers on any other consideration than compulsion of

some kind or other. We constantly see them recede rather than labor.

But when prevented from receding, they learn the value of time and

labor, and a distinction of property necessarily takes place. Laws

are then necessary to guard this distinction. Prodigality is no longer

a principal virtue; war is no longer the chief pursuit of life; the

mind acquires new ideas and new habits of exercise, and thus the way

to entire civilization and Christianity is prepared. Could we see the

coast of the Pacific settled by white men, who should advance into the

interior, driving the western Indians before them as we have done the

eastern, till the entire race should be hemmed within limits too narrow

for their existence as hunters, we should entertain a hope of seeing

a remnant of them saved and civilized. The same result must be brought

about by driving them to the Pacific; but the operation will be so

tardy, that most of the expatriated tribes will probably be destroyed

by their intercourse with the whites, or by the tribes on whom they

will be forced to intrude. How small a remnant remains of the millions

who once dwelt in peace between the Atlantic and the Mississippi!

‘The children of Indians may be christianized, but only when they can

be separated from their parents. The missionaries of Michilimacinac

seem aware of this fact; for they have chiefly confined their

instructions to the half-breed children of white men, who are at the

disposal of their fathers. It was a wise policy, and their ministry

has produced the most blessed results.

‘Consider this subject in what light we may, so many difficulties

present themselves, that it is almost impossible to hope that any

considerable portion of the aboriginal race will be in existence three

centuries hence. The fate of individual tribes is beyond the reach of

conjecture, and we have only to pray that the God alike of white and

red men will preserve them from utter extermination.’

CHAPTER XI.――AMERICAN ANTIQUITIES.[84]

INDIAN MOUNDS. The old Mexican villages, it is said, were built of

unbaked bricks, fourteen inches square, and covered with limbs of trees

and turf, which, when they mouldered away, formed a mound, similar

in shape to those which meet the traveller’s eye from the Red river

of Hudson’s bay to the state of Missouri, and probably to the gulf

of Mexico. The number of these barrows has, however, been greatly

exaggerated. We have seen it stated, on grave authority, that for

a length of five hundred miles, and a breadth of from eighty to two

hundred, the mounds are seldom an acre apart, and on this enormous

blunder was founded a conclusion that the population was once immense.

We, who speak from knowledge, affirm that, judging from such data,

the former population was not so great as the present. We have seen

mounds on the tributaries of Hudson’s bay, and on the waters of the

Mississippi, and their numbers warrant no such speculations. They are

common enough, indeed, but by no means so common, or of such magnitude,

as to make it certain that the ancestors of the present race of

aborigines were very numerous. We draw this inference from several

facts.

Travelling some years ago near the St. Peter’s river, we saw, at a

distance of about a mile, an erection which looked like one of the

conical tents of the Indians. A distinguished individual had lately

died, and our guide informed us that the object above mentioned was an

earthen lodge which his relatives had raised over him. Being pressed

for time, we did not approach it nigher. Supposing it to have been,

which we see no reason to doubt, what the guide stated, it must, when

the top crumbled down, have assumed the shape of a mound.

The Indians of those regions do, to this day, bury at least half of

their dead. They respect the dead highly, and to protect their remains

from wolves and dogs, erect over them an edifice of stakes, which,

as they possess axes, they can easily cut. Now is it not probable,

that before they had the means to cut stakes without excessive toil,

they raised a mound of earth in its stead? What corroborates this

supposition is, that many, and indeed the greater number, of the mounds

are not larger than would be required for such purpose. That they were

ever intended for dwellings is out of the question; for we are to learn

that any traces of bricks, timbers, or masonry, have ever been found in

any of them. We have already said that the fragments of pottery found

in them are precisely similar to the earthen pots still in use among

the modern Assinneboins. Again, fragments of bone are found in most of

them; but could bones have remained any great length of time in damp

earth undecayed? We think not――at least, we have known instances where

the human frame has been utterly resolved into its native elements

within the lapse of a century. But some of the mounds, and especially

those near St. Louis, are so large as to be esteemed beyond the powers

and industry of the present race of Indians. Before we adopt this

conclusion, we should remember that, as late as the discovery of the

Mississippi, several tribes kept the bones of their friends for years,

and then buried them together, a practice, the remains of which are

still distinctly visible among the Dahcotahs. On such occasions, a

large mound must have been raised, by the united efforts of a tribe. If

we suppose that successive layers were from time to time deposited on

the national burial heap, which is, surely, no extravagant theory, the

objection that the red men had neither power, inclination, nor motive

to raise such tumuli, vanishes.

‘On the banks of White river,’ says a writer in Silliman’s Journal,

‘where the earth had caved in, I found part of an earthen coffin, in

which the neck bones and the skull were yet remaining; and on the top

of the neck bone, as I dug to see what bone could be inserted thus in

part of an earthen box, I found a parcel of pieces of bones cut round,

and remaining on the neck in the exact position in which they had been

used as a necklace. They were pierced, but the string had entirely

disappeared; they were the one eighth of an inch thick, and three

fifths in diameter; and the bones of which they were made were much

better preserved than those of the skeleton. This, I was confident, did

not belong to the modern tribes of Indians which inhabit some parts of

that country.[85] I found, among the clay which rolled down from the

same mound, several pieces of lead ore, (common galena,) which had been

carried there. It is not uncommon to find this ore amongst human bones,

throughout the whole country; probably they used trinkets made of lead,

and this was a provision for them to dress in the other world.’

On the plantation of Mr. John Kain, of Knox county, near the north bank

of Holston river, five miles above its junction with the French Broad,

is a curious collection of mounds of earth, evidently the work of art,

but of an almost antediluvian antiquity, if we may form any conjecture

of their age from that of the forest which grows around and upon them.

They are about half a dozen in number, and arise on about half an acre

of level ground, without any seeming regularity. They are pyramidal

in their shape, or rather sections of pyramids, whose bases are from

ten to thirty paces in diameter. The largest one in this group rises

about ten feet above the level ground, and is remarkably regular in

its figure. A perpendicular section of this mound was made about a year

since, but no important discovery was made. It was found to consist of

the surface thrown up, and contained a good deal of ashes and charcoal.

This group of mounds is surrounded by a ditch, which can be distinctly

traced on three sides, and inclosing, besides the mounds, several acres

of ground. It is, like the mounds, covered with trees, which grow in

it and about it. At every angle of this ditch, it sweeps out into a

semicircle, and it appears in many respects well calculated for defence.

There are many other mounds of the same form in Tennessee. At the

junction of the French Broad with the Holston, there is one in which

human bones are said to have been found. Farther up French Broad,

near Newport, is a very large mound. It reposes on a very level and

extensive plain, and is itself the largest I ever saw. It is thirty

feet high, and its base covers half an acre of ground. As it ascends

from its base, there is a slight inclination from a perpendicular on

all sides, and the upper surface is as level as the rest is regular.

From the great size of this mound, its commanding situation, and the

mystery which veils its history, it is a most interesting spot of

ground. There are many other mounds of this description in the state of

Tennessee.

A mound of large dimensions is situated in the interior of the Cherokee

nation, on the north side of the Etowee, vulgarly called the Hightower

river, one of the branches of the Coosa. It stands upon a strip of

alluvial land, called _River Bottom_. It is described by the Rev. Elias

Cornelius, who visited it in company with eight Indian chiefs. The

first object which excited attention was an excavation, about twenty

feet wide, and in some parts ten feet deep. Its course is nearly that

of a semicircle; the extremities extending towards the river, which

forms a small elbow. ‘I had not time,’ says this writer, ‘to examine

it minutely. An Indian said it extended each way to the river, and had

several unexcavated parts, which served for passages to the area which

it incloses. To my surprise, I found no embankment on either side of

it. But I did not long doubt to what place the earth had been removed;

for I had scarcely proceeded two hundred yards, when, through the thick

forest trees, a stupendous pile met the eye, whose dimensions were

in full proportion to the intrenchment. I had at the time no means of

taking an accurate admeasurement. To supply my deficiency, I cut a long

vine, which was preserved until I had an opportunity of ascertaining

its exact length. In this manner I found the distance from the margin

of the summit to the base to be one hundred and eleven feet; and

judging from the degree of its declivity, the _perpendicular height_

cannot be less than seventy-five feet. The circumference of the base,

including the feet of three parapets, measured one thousand, one

hundred and fourteen feet. One of these parapets extends from the

base to the summit, and can be ascended, though with difficulty, on

horseback. The other two, after rising thirty or forty feet, terminate

in a kind of triangular platform. Its top is level, and, at the time

I visited it, was so completely covered with weeds, bushes, and trees

of a most luxuriant growth, that I could not examine it as well as I

wished. Its diameter, I judged, must be one hundred and fifty feet. On

its sides and summit are many large trees, of the same description and

of equal dimensions with those around it. One beech tree, near the top,

measured ten feet and nine inches in circumference. The earth on one

side of the tree was three and a half feet lower than on the opposite

side. This fact will give a good idea of the mound’s declivity. An oak,

which was lying down on one of the parapets, measured at the distance

of six feet from the but, without the bark, twelve feet four inches in

circumference. At a short distance to the south-east is another mound,

in ascending which I took thirty steps. Its top is encircled by a

breastwork three feet high, intersected through the middle with another

elevation of a similar kind. A little further is another mound, which I

had not time to examine.

‘On these great works of art, the Indians gazed with as much curiosity

as any white man. I inquired of the oldest chief if the natives had

any tradition respecting them, to which he answered in the negative.

I then requested each to say what he supposed was their origin. Neither

could tell; though all agreed in saying, “they were never put up by

our people.” It seems probable they were erected by another race, who

once inhabited the country. That such a race existed, is now generally

admitted. Who they were, and what were the causes of their degeneracy,

or of their extermination, no circumstances have yet explained. But

this is no reason why we should not, as in a hundred other instances,

infer the existence of the cause from its effects, without any previous

knowledge of its history.

‘In regard to the objects which these mounds were designed to answer,

it is obvious they were not always the same. Some were intended as

receptacles for the dead. These are small, and are distinguished by

containing human bones. Some may have been designed as sites for public

buildings, whether of a civil or religious kind; and others, no doubt,

were constructed for the purposes of war. Of this last description is

the Etowee mound. In proof of its suitableness for such a purpose, I

need only mention that the Cherokees, in their late war with the Creeks,

secured its summit by pickets, and occupied it as a place of protection

for hundreds of their women and children. Gladly would I have spent

a day in examining it more minutely; but my companions, unable to

appreciate my motives, grew impatient, and I was obliged to withdraw,

and leave a more perfect observation and description to some one else.’

With all the respect due to the authorities above quoted, we beg

leave to doubt their conclusions. That the Cherokees had no tradition

respecting the origin of their great mound, proves nothing. Indian

tradition reaches not far. Different tribes are constantly driving each

other from their possessions, and the tumulus in question may have been

the work of a clan dispossessed by the Cherokees. The trees growing on

such mounds prove as little. In 1825, we discovered two skeletons under

the roots of a very large elm, on the banks of the Mississippi. They

were at once pronounced relics of the supposed former race, and that

opinion was current until the iron parts of the handle of a clasp knife

were found in the earth from which they were exhumed. The Indians of

the vicinity wondered, like the Cherokees at their mound, and the tree

appeared more than a century old. The skulls were discovered to be

those of Dahcotahs, by a peculiar formation of the lower jaw, and as

the tribe to which they belonged are not agreed about their own former

dwelling-place, though they left it not more than two centuries ago, we

cannot attach much weight to Indian tradition.

In a stone quarry at St. Peter’s, a copper wedge, weighing three

pounds, was found, about ten years since, fifteen feet below the

surface of the earth. It was perfectly formed, and still bore marks of

the hammer which fashioned it. This, and the exsiccated body (it is no

mummy) which was found in the great cavern in Kentucky, are the only

things we have seen which in our opinion justify even a conjecture that

there was formerly another race of inhabitants on this continent. It

will not, we suppose, be disputed, that the Mexicans were unable to

rear the pyramid of Cholula, or that they are not of the same stock

with our aborigines.

We are unable to decide for what purpose the erections scattered

over our country, and commonly called forts, were intended. They

were probably fortifications, and very sufficient ones they must have

been, before the natives were acquainted with fire arms. Whoever has

seen with what incredible despatch a modern Indian throws up a work

sufficient for the protection of his own body, with no better implement

than his knife, will readily admit that a tribe were fully competent to

erect these works of an antediluvian people.

The great work which the impostor Carver pretends to have seen on the

Mississippi, never had existence, save in the pages of his deceitful

book. We have often sought without finding it, and the Indians of the

neighborhood know nothing about it.

On the eastern shore of lake Pepin, about three miles from its

debouchure, is an extensive prairie, and on its edge, commanding

the lake and the plain, are the ruins of a regular four-bastioned

fort. The curtain and the two western bastions have crumbled away,

and fallen into the lake; but the two other bastions and three

curtains, with the corresponding ditches, scarps and counterscarps, are

perfectly distinct, and might be repaired with little trouble. From its

commanding situation, and its regularity, it is plain that cannon were

mounted upon it, and that it was built by the early French traders or

travellers. This assumption is confirmed by the fact, that asparagus

still grows wild among the ruins, though it is found in no other part

of the country. Yet _Indian tradition_ knows nothing of the origin of

the fort, or its uses.

OLD FORTS. Among what may be called the antiquities of America, there

are few things which excite more interest than the fortifications of

the Highlands of the Hudson. It will readily be remembered that this

river was a pass of vast importance to the contending parties, inasmuch

as it was, during the revolution, the only channel of communication

between the British armies in Canada and those on the sea board. To

prevent a junction, which would have been ruinous to the cause of

freedom, general Washington occupied the Highlands, and made every

height bristle with cannon. The remains of many of the fortifications

are still distinctly visible to the traveller, as he passes up and down

the river; but it is in vain, excepting in a few instances, that he

inquires their history, or even their names. Those at and about West

Point, however, are better known. It is needless to tell here how this

post was well nigh betrayed by the traitor Arnold――the story is still

fresh in the memory of all men, and it is our business to say what may

be said of the works his treason would have surrendered.

West Point is situated at a bend, and the only abrupt one in the

whole course of the Hudson from New York to Albany. It is a large

plain, elevated several hundred feet above the level of the river.

Directly opposite is a large island, called Constitution island, on

which are many eminences commanding the river, which were crowned with

fortifications. Fort Constitution, the principal of these, is still

entire.

On a height below West Point may be observed the remains of fort

Montgomery, the guns of which, it is believed, compelled the Vulture

sloop of war to retire farther down the river, and was thus the cause

of the land excursion and capture of André, and consequently of the

safety of the post. The extremity of the Point is occupied by the ruins

of fort Clinton, which commanded two ranges on the river, and was an

extensive as well as a very strong and important work. It was just

opposite this fort that an enormous iron chain was stretched across the

river to obstruct the passage. It was broken by an English man of war

under full sail; but the vessel was so injured in the attempt, as to

be obliged to put back. There are many other fortifications of minor

importance on and about the Point, which, as well as those already

mentioned, are undergoing a rapid process of decay, and will probably

disappear in less than a century.

But what strikes the eye of the traveller with most imposing effect,

are the hoary ruins of fort Putnam, familiarly called Old Fort Put.

They stand five hundred feet immediately above the plain of West Point,

and once commanded all the batteries on and about it. They have very

much the appearance of a dilapidated castle. The work is of small

extent, but very strong. It stands on the apex of a steep hill, and

the wall on the northern side hangs upon the edge of a perpendicular

precipice. On the other sides, the walls are so high and steep, as to

render escalade impracticable. The walls are solid and very thick, and

contain within their mass apartments for the garrison, and furnaces

for heating shot. There was once an excellent well within the area;

but it is now choked and rendered useless by fragments of the crumbling

masonry. One of the angles contains two cells, probably designed for

prisoners, and for _black holes_. Tradition erroneously says that major

André was confined in one of them. Altogether, the whole ruin has an

imposing appearance, for it is in strict keeping with the grandeur and

wildness of the surrounding scenery, and serves to awaken many pleasing

historical recollections in the American spectator. In the midst

of embattled heights it stands, ‘the key-stone of the arch.’ Of its

strength we may say, that an enemy could not have taken it without

overwhelming numbers, and loss proportionate, or without bombarding it.

In short, it is, in many respects, like what we read of the hill forts

of India. We hope the proverbial economy of our government will not

suffer so interesting a historical monument to fall into utter decay,

and the rather, that a very small expense would restore it to its

original condition.

Illustration: Fort Putnam.

The remains of fort William Henry, at the head of lake George, are

traced with much interest by every traveller. It was merely a sand

fort, but of great extent. The exterior redoubt, which may still be

traced, comprehends the whole plain between the mountain and the lake,

and the inner works, commanding the water, are in some places very

distinct. The plain pointed out as the parade ground, is extensive

and beautiful. This was the scene of the most wanton and perfidious

massacre which ever disgraced the annals of warfare. Not all the

consecrated water which the French carried home from the ‘_Sacremer_,’

as they beautifully termed the crystal lake, could wash out the foul

stain which this transaction left on the French arms and French faith.

The garrison, consisting of three thousand English and provincials,

under colonel Munro, surrendered, after a long and desperate resistance,

to the French army of ten thousand men, commanded by the marquis de

Montcalm, in 1757. By the terms of the capitulation, the garrison were

to receive a safe escort to fort Edward. They accordingly marched out

to the parade ground, stacked their arms, and awaited the escort. The

Indians, to the number of several thousand, armed with tomahawks and

knives, immediately surrounded them, and began to strip them by force

of their clothing. Colonel Munro, who was in the French camp, anxiously

demanded the escort; but Montcalm delayed it upon frivolous pretences,

and finally refused it. The French stood with folded arms, and beheld

the massacre within pistol shot of their camp. Some few of the devoted

and defenceless soldiers wrested weapons from the hands of their

murderers, and dearly sold their lives; but of the whole number, only

two or three escaped. A young man by the name of Carver, from New

England, of great strength and agility, grappled with and overthrew

several Indians, broke through their ranks, fled into the swamp in the

rear of the fort, and escaped. Strong representations of this affair

were made to the government of France, and Montcalm was called to

a formal account, but was not punished. In his defence, he stated

that, by interfering to prevent the massacre, he would have lost the

confidence of his Indian allies, and incurred their hostility. Musket

balls, grape and chain shot, buttons, hatchets, and human bones, are

frequently ploughed up on this ground. These relics are sometimes left

for sale at the Lake House.

In the rear of fort William Henry, on a commanding eminence, stands

fort George, a small, but, for the time when it was erected, a strong

fortress. The walls are of limestone, twelve or fifteen feet thick, and

thirty or forty feet high. The magazine and arches are of brick work;

a part of the magazine is entire, but the entrance to it is filled up.

The walls have been pulled down in many places by those who had use for

the stone, and all the bricks which could be got at have been carried

off. Several wells, now filled up, may be discovered in the vicinity,

and the ruins of the hospital, arsenal, and other buildings. Fort

George is completely commanded by the neighboring heights, and of

Gage’s hill it is within fair musket-shot. On this hill, however, the

English kept a fort, the remains of the redoubt being still visible.

It is remarkable that every old fort from the Canada line to Albany

is commanded by highlands in its vicinity. When they were built, there

was but little apprehension of artillery. Even the strong and important

fort of Ticonderoga was effectually commanded by mount Defiance, a

circumstance which proved disastrous to the American arms. The prospect

from fort George is extensive and diversified, embracing the village,

the mountains, the islands, and the lake, for a great distance.

‘Passing Plattsburg,’ says a recent English traveller, ‘the scene

of our defeat last war, we reached Crown Point, and then the lake

contracted from four or five miles in breadth to a river channel. The

point was green and elevated, and on it were the ruins of military

works, principally greeted by the Canadian French, when they meditated

and attempted the utter expulsion of the English colonists from the

shores of the Atlantic. Stories are told of vaults and dungeons at

Crown Point, where plots were hatched, in conjunction with the Indians,

for burning the dwellings and massacring the families of the settlers;

and here were displayed “long rows of scalps, white in one place with

the venerable locks of age, and glistening in another with the ringlets

of childhood and of youth.”

‘Next, at the entrance to lake George, with its clear waters,

its picturesque islets, and steep shores, were the remains of the

celebrated fort Ticonderoga, situated on a point of land, surrounded

on three sides with water, and on the fourth, deep trenches cut into

the morass, with high breastworks. It presented one of the most likely

posts to make a gallant defence, that could well be conceived. The ruin

of a barrack, like a “donjon keep,” was the most conspicuous object on

the point.

Illustration: Old Fort Ticonderoga.

‘It is impossible, as an officer of the black watch, to think

of Ticonderoga without strong emotion, for here, in 1758, the

forty-second, after cutting their way with their claymores through a

broad abattis of prostrate trees, under a heavy fire from the French

garrison, made desperate efforts, for four hours, to scale a high work

without scaling-ladders, by mounting on one another’s shoulders, and

by making holes in it with their bayonets. They were so exasperated

at being so unexpectedly checked; and by the heavy loss which they had

sustained, that they refused to withdraw till ordered a third time to

do so by their general; their loss on this occasion was more than half

the men, and two thirds of the officers, killed or severely wounded;

that is, twenty-five officers, nineteen sergeants, and six hundred and

three privates. About this time, the regiment received the honorary

distinction of royal.’

The remains of the fortifications at Pittsburg occupy a very

interesting position, on the delta formed by the confluence of

the rivers at that place. Of fort Du Quesne, but a small mound

of earth remains. Fort Pitt may be more easily traced; part of

three bastions, about breast high, stand within different private

inclosures, and a piece of the curtain, which, within a few years, was

in complete preservation, may still be discovered. ‘I expected,’ says

an intelligent correspondent of the New York American, ‘to have seen

the magazine of the fort, which I was told was an admirable piece of

masonry, and still endured in the shape of a porter cellar; but upon

arriving at the spot where it had stood but a few weeks before, a pile

of rough stones was all that we could discover. In a country like ours,

where so few antiquities meet the eye, it is melancholy to see these

interesting remnants thus destroyed, and the very landmarks where they

stood effaced forever. Occasionally, too, the works of which every

vestige is thus painfully obliterated, were, especially when erected by

the French, of a peculiarly striking character. The French engineers,

who first introduced the art of fortification into this country, were

of the school of Vauban, and the enduring monuments they raised were

not less noble proofs of their skill, than were the sites selected of

their high military discernment.’ In the vicinity are the remains of a

mill-dam, constructed by the officers of fort Du Quesne, according to

the most approved rules of the time, like a perfect fortification; a

part of the curtain, with traces of some of the bastions, still rewards

the search of the inquisitive.

An old fort on the island Canonicut, which formerly defended the

passage up Narragansett bay, presents an interesting relic of past

times. It is built in a circular form, and is well represented in the

accompanying sketch.

Illustration: Fort Canonicut.

CHAPTER XII.――RELIGION.[86]

THERE can scarcely be a doubt, that among all the political and

social relations of a people, there is none of such primary and

vital importance as their religion; and if this be true of nations

generally, it is peculiarly so of the United States of America. These

states present, in this point of view, a novel spectacle; that of an

experiment, conducted on a scale commensurate with its importance.

We have not here to describe the influence of religion upon savages,

nor upon a race fettered with the shackles of superstition, and of

a predominant church government. We find a civilized and intelligent

community in a situation to which history shows no parallel. Save

the effect of knowledge and principle, there is nothing to influence

the faith of the American citizen, no form of worship prescribed by

law, no predominance of sects, no physical intolerance, no advantage or

disadvantage to hope or fear from difference of opinion. The experiment

has been fully successful; it has proved that a nation may be moral and

religious without any external agency to direct or control the mind.

It may safely be considered to have demonstrated the inexpediency of

a union between church and state.

The constitution expressly forbids the general government to make

any laws with regard to religion, and though the several states have

reserved the right, they seem resolved never to use it. They do, indeed,

sometimes allot portions of new land for the support of public worship,

but the use of the grant is always left to the discretion of the

inhabitants. Such state laws as relate to religious qualifications for

office, &c. are almost a dead letter, if we except those which, in some

states, render the clergy ineligible to the legislature, probably on

the principle that civil and religious duties are incompatible with

each other.

We find religion in the United States free from legal support or

restriction, and, if the experience of fifty years is to be trusted,

this non-interference is favorable to good morals and rational piety.

There is no intolerance, no persecution, little controversy; yet the

people are as religiously given as those of any other country, though

not scrupulous with regard to forms. It has lately been demonstrated by

statistical facts, that religious institutions exist in a much larger

proportion to the population in this country than in any other; and in

no country is the spirit of Christianity manifested more than in this.

Benevolent societies for meliorating the condition of our race in this

and other lands are numerous and increasing, and they display all the

characteristic energy and enterprise of the Americans. The American

missionary is now seen bending his course to the ‘islands of the sea,’

that ‘they may rejoice in the salvation of God,’ and to the ‘utmost

parts of the earth,’ that they too may know the way of life. The Bible

society, having supplied so far as possible every family in this land

with the word of life, is now sending it through the missionaries to

the heathen world; while the Tract society is despatching its little

messengers of ‘_glad tidings_’ through the earth. Home Missionary, for

the supplying destitute places in the United States with the ordinances

of the gospel, Sabbath School, Prison Discipline, and numerous kindred

societies are also lending their aid; and there seems to be a spirit

of philanthropy pervading all denominations of evangelical Christians,

which knows no bounds but the ends of the earth. May this spirit be

increased a thousand fold!

‘Shall we, whose souls are lighted

With wisdom from on high,

Shall we to men benighted

The lamp of life deny?’――_Heber._

It is almost unnecessary to say, the religious aspect of different

parts of the great confederacy is far from uniform. This would be

the natural result of the freedom of religious opinions, and the

circumstances of the early settlement of the country. New England,

settled by the Puritans, retains much of the strong impress of the

character of her fathers. Maryland was settled by Roman Catholics,

Pennsylvania by Quakers, and other states by Episcopalians, while

colonies of Swedes, French, and Dutchmen formed the starting points

of others. Some persons are disposed to mourn over the fact, that

Christians are divided into such a number of denominations, which they

conceive to be an evil, and they earnestly long for the time to come

when all these things shall be done away. It is indeed to be regretted

that a greater degree of harmony and charity does not prevail among

the great denominations which compose the mass of Christians, and that

the time should come speedily when all shall ‘love one another with

a pure heart fervently,’ is ‘most devoutly to be wished.’ Still these

differences of opinion are the inevitable consequences of freedom

of opinion on _any_ subject; and as the Bible has not clearly marked

out any _form_ of church order and discipline, in which the chief

difference consists among evangelical Christians, it can never be

expected that all will agree upon this subject any more than upon any

other. And on the whole it is best they should not; and it was wise in

the great Head of the church to leave these things, _non-essential_, as

he has, that different denominations may by a holy rivalry ‘stir each

other up to good works.’ What a safeguard against intolerance, and the

evils of bigotry and oppression, when several large and balancing sects

exist in a community at the same time――a mutual check, and mutually

operating on each other to prevent corruption. We should fear the

result in our own land of the great predominance of _any_ sect, but

most of all that which, owning allegiance to a foreign civil and

ecclesiastical potentate, is even now seeking to gain possession of

our fair inheritance――we mean the Roman Catholic. While their right to

propagate their opinions by all fair and constitutional means equally

with others is freely admitted, the influence of their principles on

our institutions, should they finally prevail, cannot but be dreaded.

What popery has been it ever must be, the very foundation-stone being

the infallibility of the church, which of course can never have done

wrong, and can never change in any of its great characteristics. (_See

note at the end of this article._)

We will now proceed to notice the principal sects existing in this

country.

METHODISTS. The Methodists are the most numerous denomination in the

United States, being found in all parts of the Union in considerable

numbers. They count more than six hundred thousand members of

their churches. There are two principal classes of Methodists:――the

_Wesleyan_, who are Arminians, and the most numerous. They are named

from John Wesley, one of the founders of the sect. The other class,

to which Whitfield belonged, are Calvinistic in their doctrines.

They are also divided into two bodies on the question of church

order and discipline,――the _Methodist Episcopal_ and the _Protestant

Methodist_;――the latter are seceders from the former body. Attached to

the former there were, in 1833, five bishops, twenty-two hundred and

thirty travelling preachers, and nearly five hundred thousand members

of the churches; to the latter, four hundred ministers and fifty

thousand communicants.

BAPTISTS. This denomination is second in the United States as to

numbers. They estimate from four to five hundred thousand members

of their churches. They are chiefly Calvinistic in doctrine, and

independent or congregational in their form of church government,

differing little in any respect from the latter denomination, except

that they administer baptism by immersion, and only to _adult_

believers.[87]

PRESBYTERIANS. This is the third numerically of the religious sects

of this country. It is the offspring of the church of Scotland.

Their doctrines are strictly Calvinistic. At the first meeting of

the general assembly, in 1789, there were but about one hundred and

eighty or ninety ministers belonging to the whole body, in four synods

and seventeen presbyteries. In 1834 it embraced twenty-three synods,

one hundred and eighteen presbyteries, two thousand six hundred and

forty-eight congregations, one thousand nine hundred and fourteen

_ordained_ ministers, and two hundred and fifty licentiates, and more

than two hundred and forty-seven thousand nine hundred and sixty four

communicants. Of these ministers, about one-third reside in the state

of New York, the next largest number in Pennsylvania, and the next

largest in Ohio; some are found in every state.

CONGREGATIONALISTS. This denomination, differing from the Presbyterian

only in regard to church order and government, abounds chiefly in New

England, where they are the most numerous sect, although there are

churches of this order in other states. According to their principles,

each congregation of Christians is a complete church, which may commune

with other churches if it pleases, and may appoint its own officers, to

exercise discipline within itself. These Christians have sometimes been

called Independents, from whom, however, they differ in some respects.

Congregationalist and Independent are synonymous terms in _England_.

They have pastors and deacons, the latter having the care of the

secular concerns of the church, and not being allowed to preach. Their

doctrines are the same as those of the Presbyterians, with whom they

are united in all the great benevolent societies and movements of the

day. Number of members, about one hundred and fifty thousand.

EPISCOPALIANS. The organization of the American Episcopal church

took place during the war of the revolution, and (to secure the

uninterrupted apostolic succession, as they say) the first bishop

procured ordination from the Scottish bishops at Aberdeen, and two

others were soon afterwards consecrated by the archbishop of Canterbury

in England, and thus the succession was preserved unbroken. They have

ten bishops, fifteen dioceses, and five hundred and twenty-eight clergy,

priests, and deacons. The highest dignitary recognised is the Bishop.

Priests and Deacons are the only other clergy known. The supreme

authority is vested in a general convention, composed of a house of

bishops and a house of lay delegates. Each diocese has a convention for

the regulation of its own affairs. The state conventions consist of the

clergy of the diocese, and a lay delegation from each church. No salary

is given to bishops, as such; they are supported as rectors of churches.

The influence of republican principles is thus strikingly manifest in

many of the features of American Episcopacy. The people always choose

their own ministers, the bishops are elected by a procedure, according

to which the laity have a vote through their delegates, and no salaries

are independent of a similar vote. In all these particulars, the

American church differs from that of England, but in doctrine and

principles they are the same.

UNITARIANS; a small body chiefly in the state of Massachusetts, and

mostly in and around Boston. They are Independents in church government.

In doctrines they are mostly either ultra Universalists, or hold the

belief of the final restoration of all men. They reject the doctrine

of the Trinity, and the doctrines called Calvinistic altogether. The

congregation of the King’s Chapel, in Boston, was probably the first

which cherished these principles. It was originally an Episcopalian

society, and they now use the liturgy, altered in some points to adapt

it to their views.

UNIVERSALISTS are a considerably numerous body. They are divided

into two classes――_Ultra_, or those who reject altogether the idea of

future punishments, and _Restorationists_, or those who believe in a

punishment after death, but which is not eternal.

QUAKERS. Pennsylvania is the strong-hold of the Quakers, although there

are considerable numbers in New Jersey, the city of New York, &c. There

are two sects, the one orthodox, the other followers of Elias Hicks,

or Hicksites. They dispute between themselves which has seceded from

the original principles of the denomination. The Quakers of England

sent forth an epistle in 1829, containing a confession of faith, which

acknowledged the inspiration of the Scriptures, the divinity of the

Savior, his atonement, &c. The Hicksites are generally considered the

seceders.

The DUTCH REFORMED was the established church in New York until its

surrender to England. Its first classes was formed in America in 1757.

Its government is vested in consistories, classes, and synods. Members

of the _German Reformed_ church are found principally in Pennsylvania,

and also in Maryland, Virginia, Ohio, and other states. There are more

than five hundred congregations of them. The American _Lutheran_ church

has eight hundred congregations. The United Brethren, or _Shakers_,

a singular, harmless, inoffensive and industrious race, are found in

Pennsylvania, North Carolina, New York, Massachusetts, and other states.

There may be about six thousand of them. The _Swedenborgians_ also hold

an annual convention.

INFIDELS. It is proper to mention under the head of religion, in order

to give a correct view of the religious state of the country, a class

of persons, divided into several subdivisions, and generally looked

upon with pity by professing Christians of all denominations, and

viewed with concern by all the rational friends of liberty. We speak of

the Owenites, Fanny Wrightites, Harmonites, Deists, or, according to a

very common form of parlance, Freethinkers, Infidels, or Atheists. All

of them, we believe, affirm that a community of property, labor, and

education, is necessary to the well-being of mankind, and hold that a

belief in divine revelation is unnecessary and absurd. They hold, too,

that the marriage covenant is binding only during the pleasure of the

contracting parties. Rapp, who brought a colony of foreigners of this

faith to the banks of the Ohio, acquired an almost unlimited authority

over them. He forbade the intercourse of the sexes for a year or more,

and was obeyed. He divided the lands among his followers, instituted

regulations for manual labor, and the products of the common exertion

was thrown into a common stock. Mr. Owen’s settlement, called Harmony,

was conducted on nearly the same principles of equality. This gentleman

possessed a large property in Scotland, which he abandoned to found a

colony, and disseminate the doctrines of Voltaire and Paine, in America,

in which he was very efficiently aided by the celebrated Miss Frances

Wright. Both of them went about the country several years, lecturing

against Christianity and revelation; but with no very great success.

They finally showed that practice does not always conform to principle,

by marrying one another. Mr. Owen’s settlement has long been abandoned,

his followers not having attained that degree of moral and social

perfection requisite for its success!

Such principles as those of Mr. Owen, striking, as they do, at the very

root of society, will never, it is to be hoped, prevail to any great

extent in any part of the world.[88] The Freethinkers are at present

but a small body, without order or government as a party, and little

respectable as individuals. They are probably not more than five or

six thousand. They have newspapers and places of meeting, in New York,

Boston, and elsewhere. Many of them are avowed atheists. Had they been

persecuted, molested, or opposed in any degree, it is probable they

would have multiplied much faster than they have.

PAPISTS or Roman Catholics. This sect is rapidly increasing in the

United States; a fact which ought to alarm all the friends of liberty

and true religion.[89]

In 1632, a priest of the order of the Jesuits accompanied the early

settlers to Maryland, and since that time the Catholic population have

been supplied with instructers of their own persuasion from England.

A see was constituted, and a bishop consecrated, in 1790. In 1810,

it became an archiepiscopal see, and four new suffragan dioceses were

established, viz.: in Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and Bardstown,

in Kentucky, to which some more have since been added, in New Orleans,

Charleston, Richmond, and Cincinnati, &c. Regular missions are also

established all over the country, and it would seem, from the zeal of

the missionaries, as well as by the language of the pope, that very

great importance is attached to the future religious faith of America

by the court of Rome. Nor have the devoted exertions of the priests

failed of much success, for it has been computed that half a million

of the people of the United States are Roman Catholics, of which not

less than ten thousand are in the city of _Boston_, being one sixth of

its population. It is stated that bishop England, of Baltimore, is an

officer of the Inquisition!

CHAPTER XIII.――MANNERS AND AMUSEMENTS.

THE dispositions and feelings of the inhabitants of the different

portions of the United States have been modified by a great variety

of circumstances. Difference of descent has operated with its usual

power. The stern Puritan, the open-hearted and honest Dutchman,

the light-hearted and easy Frenchman, the German, the Spaniard, the

Catholic, the Huguenot, all have their representatives in various

portions of the country. The distinctive national peculiarities have

in some measure been worn off, and the varying elements have been

amalgamated by constant intercourse, intermarriage, removals from one

part to another, and the gradual effects of time. Still the national

character is very distinct in distinct sections of the country, and

in the following account of the various manners and customs, we have

uniformly followed what we consider the best authority.

The people of New England are grave, though they are not without

humor; many of their amusements are of a reflecting kind, and their

conversation tends rather to useful than to light or gay subjects.

They are moral and pious, and the descendants of the Puritans retain

much of the strictness of their fathers. If not ardent, they are to

a great degree persevering, and though inquisitive, they are equally

communicative. They are shrewd and calculating, yet not deceitful.

They are no ‘granters of propositions;’ with them almost all things

are subjects for discussion, in which they manifest much ingenuity.

They have a caution that prevails in all things, and they seldom answer

directly an abrupt question, without knowing why it is asked. They have

the impress of Franklin; Poor Richard’s maxims of thrift fall upon a

congenial soil, and no proverbs are oftener quoted, or more followed.

They are like Franklin, to a great degree inventive in practical things,

and far the greater number of inventions in the patent office are from

New England. It is peculiar to these people, that they are seldom found

without a pocket knife, which they use with dexterity; and boys at

school are frequently seen _whittling_, or cutting wood into some shape,

for a wind-mill or other toy. It is a universal trait, and it is said

that a gentleman in Havana, who invited a large company to dine, gave

each man from New England a shingle to cut, that they might not carve

his furniture.

One of the first traits developed in the New England character is, if

not a love of gain, at least a disposition to traffic. It commences at

an early age, and children at school not only exchange or ‘swap’ knives,

and other things, but make lotteries, in which the prizes are paid in

gingerbread and raisins, and which leave a little profit to the manager

and proprietor. The farmers too, though not the most industrious kind,

sometimes bring up horses and cattle for a ‘swap’ to the village inn;

and the tin pedlars, whose wheels are in every road in the United

States, are to a man from New England.

Another trait of character is the readiness with which the people of

New England admit the equality of all men with themselves, and the

steadiness with which they deny, both in theory and practice, that any

are superior. It would raise a tempest in the breast even of a female

domestic, to ask for her _mistress_, nor would she be satisfied to

be called a servant, or even a domestic. _Help_ is the word by which

servants reconcile their pride with their interest or employment, as

it denotes, that though the assistants, they are the equals of their

employers. A foreigner probably finds some ground for dissatisfaction

on the score of domestics, for among house-wives it is a subject of

universal complaint at home; the best servants are English, who have

been more familiar with the distinction of classes.

The people of New England are distinguished for their _celebrations_.

They are interlocked with each other by innumerable societies and

associations, and one man is a member of many. These have their

anniversaries, which, with the national and other holidays, make a

great many processions, public dinners, and addresses. It is also usual

to offer public dinners to those who have done acceptable services in

high public stations.

A town meeting is perhaps the best place wherein to see the

self-control of the people, when highly excited on questions of general

or local interest. Every town is within certain limits a pure democracy,

and its doings are attended with perfect decorum under the moderator,

who is chosen, as the word implies, to mollify any over-zealous

excitement. If, on these occasions, any citizen becomes turbulent, or

abusive in language, the sense of the assembly is so strongly expressed

against him, that he is at once reduced to order. Generally speaking,

there are no mobs or riotous assemblies. The interference of a few

constables, or the reading of the ‘riot act’ by a magistrate, is

sufficient to disperse any tumultuous throng. A tumult at a town

meeting or election, is a thing unheard of among us.

Some of the most peculiar manners and customs of New England are found

in the island of Nantucket, and the neighboring part of the continent.

Nantucket is a happy settlement; not that it has precious metals

in its bosom, or fertility in its soil, but because the people are

simple, innocent, and contented. The sea is their patrimony, and they

gather its bounties in the most distant ports. The whale fishery in

New England was commenced by six persons in Nantucket; one watched on

an eminence for the spouting of the whale, and when he discovered it,

all would pursue in a small boat, and they seldom failed to tow the

leviathan ashore. Gains extended the adventure, ships were fitted out,

and the whale was chased from the temperate regions to the arctic seas,

and followed to the remotest shores of the Pacific ocean.

Among the people, there are none idle, and few destitute. The vices

of commercial places are hardly known, and it is admitted all over New

England to be a great presumption in favor of a man’s honesty, that

he comes from Nantucket. The Friends or Quakers give to the language a

simplicity of diction truly Doric, and though they take some liberties

with the commonwealth’s English, yet in a person brought up with them,

to speak in a more classic manner would be held to savor of affectation

and pretension. The various relationships, and the kindly feelings,

have introduced the custom of calling elderly people uncle or aunt, and

the younger, cousin. Even a stranger soon falls into this habit. The

people generally marry young, and few live in celibacy. They are social

to a great degree, and are eminently distinguished for their frequent

visitings, to sup at each other’s houses. They live more as though they

made a large family, than a small community.

The following tribute to the New England character is from Captain

Hall, whom no one can accuse of a desire to overpraise what he saw in

this country. ‘I had, however, many sharp amicable discussions with my

friends at Boston, on the thousand and one topics that arose between

us, but I must do them the justice to say, that I never met a more

good-natured, or perhaps I should say, good-tempered people; for,

during the whole course of my journey, though I never disguised my

sentiments, even when opposed to the avowed favorite opinions of the

company, I never yet saw an American out of temper. I fear I cannot say

half so much for myself, for I was often a good deal harassed by these

national discussions, when the company and I took our station on the

opposite poles of the question. But it is pleasant to have it in my

power to say that I cannot recall a single instance in which any thing

captious, or personally uncivil, was ever said to me, though I repeated

openly, and in all companies, every thing I have written in these

volumes, and a great deal more than upon cool reflection I choose to

say again.’

In general, the amusements are of a thoughtful rather than a gay

character, and games of skill are preferred to those of chance. The

character of the Puritans has given some tone to the amusements and

holidays. Theatres are seldom even fashionably attended, and there are

many who hold it unlawful to enter them. There are places, too, in the

country, where dancing is considered to be a ‘vain, idle, and sinful

amusement.’

The active sports are principally games of ball, and sometimes running

and wrestling; formerly, different towns and parishes had their

champions in wrestling, to try their superiority by matches, in which

several fatal accidents occurred; but the sport is now almost entirely

disused. Boxing, which is so universal in England, is almost unknown,

and horse-racing and cock-fighting are seldom seen. In winter, when

there are delightful moonlight nights, sleigh-rides are a favorite

amusement. Parties of both sexes sit in large sleighs, as closely as

they can be packed, and sometimes in each others’ laps, scour over

several miles at a rapid rate, and at some hotel, find not only a

supper but a fiddler in attendance, whose gains are much enhanced in

the season of sleighing. There are several holidays, but none that

are observed in England. Election day is that on which the governor

is declared to be elected, and has heretofore been one of the most

‘time-honored’ days in the calendar. On this day, the young men often

take sides, in what is called a ‘bird shoot,’ to destroy the birds most

mischievous to crops, and the party bringing in the least number of

heads is vanquished, and gives a dinner to the other.

Fast day is an observance that has descended from the pilgrims, and is

kept with a decent solemnity. The governors appoint one day in the year,

in all the New England states, for ‘fasting, humiliation, and prayer;’

there is little business transacted, and the people generally attend

in the churches, which are called more generally, from an old dislike

to Episcopacy, meeting-houses. Thanksgiving is also a day appointed

by the same authorities, and the intent of the edict or proclamation

is carried into full effect by the disposition of the people. It is

always appointed in the _fall_ or autumn, after the harvests, when the

garners are full; and poor indeed is the inmate of the hovel that has

not on that day plenty and luxury on his board. The preparations for

thanksgiving continue several days, and for many more the prepared

viands are not exhausted. It is the day for family meetings, and it

is then that members of the same family often come hundreds of miles

to meet again, to renew the bands of affinity and affection under the

paternal roof. It is at this feast that the simplicity and patriarchal

character of a New England grandsire is pre-eminent.

Before and after thanksgiving, there are held all over the country

‘shooting matches,’ which are announced by printed placards, headed

‘sportsmen attend,’ and which set forth that geese, turkeys, and fowls,

will be set up for marksmen. They are shot at, generally after they

are killed, with rifles, at certain distances, and rates are paid for

every shot. If they are hit, the marksman has the game. These sports

are commonly held in some retired spot, or at some deserted house, by

which there is little passing, and where a day or two is spent as in

an encampment. A bear or deer is sometimes shot at in the same way.

Autumn also brings other holiday observances, one of which is

‘husking,’ when the men of a neighborhood meet to husk the Indian corn

of one of the number, that is, to separate it from the sheaf. A good

supper, and sometimes a dance, ensues. The females have also similar

meetings, called ‘quilting bees,’ when many assemble to work for

one, in padding or _quilting_ bed coverings or _comforters_. Militia

musters or reviews collect many people, but they are happily growing

out of date; they generally display the most repulsive traits of the

New England character. An ordination of a clergyman over a society

discloses better characteristics. It is a time when every house in the

society is invitingly open, when the master generally ‘provides’ for

more guests than he has the good fortune to secure; and when he may

be seen forestalling his neighbors, by asking visiters to dine, before

they arrive at the church. Persons of all creeds and conditions are

pressed, nothing loath, to the feasts that smoke upon a hundred tables.

Ploughing matches and cattle shows are held only in autumn; they

attract many people, and give a favorable impulse to the interests

of agriculture. The celebration of the fourth of July, or, as it is

called, Independence, is not peculiar to New England; it is the great

national holiday, honored by salutes of cannon, fireworks, processions,

addresses, dinners, in all cities, and in the most secluded corners of

the republic.

In the middle states there is little general or peculiar character.

In Pennsylvania, society takes a tone from the Friends, particularly

in Philadelphia and some other towns; in the interior, German influence

is equally perceptible. New York has the air and character of all

great commercial cities. One abominable custom deserves to be mentioned

with reprobation. Swine are by law permitted to range at large, and

these quadruped scavengers are, of course, intolerable nuisances.

Philadelphia and Baltimore seem to have escaped, in some measure, from

the moral evils which appear almost inseparable from great cities. In

these places, the manner of life is far more quiet and domestic than in

New York, and in the former city the arts and sciences meet with a more

assiduous cultivation. The Wistar parties of this city, assemblies held

at gentlemen’s houses, where the conversation is chiefly on literary

and scientific subjects, are much praised by intelligent strangers.[90]

The amusements of the middle states are more various than the other

sections of the country. As the three largest cities in the union are

distant one from the other but about a hundred miles, there are of

course greater facilities and encouragement for scenic exhibitions; and

the theatres, especially in New York, are much attended. The actors are

generally English, and the best English performers often come over for

a season. There is a French opera company, also, who at times perform

in the cities, where they give general pleasure, and a splendid opera

house has been recently erected in New York. In the latter city,

there are several expensive public gardens, in which a great variety

of costly fireworks, shows, and amusements, are offered in the warm

seasons; when lighted up at night, they are very brilliant, and

they attract crowds of people. There are many small gardens, where

refreshments are sold; and in Philadelphia the number of these is

considerable, though some of them contain little else than a few

alcoves, covered with creeping plants.

Horse racing, which in New England is almost unknown, is more honored

in the middle states; and some of the matches on Long Island and in

Dutchess county, have been attended by vast crowds of people. Boat

races also are sometimes held in the calm waters about New York.

Skating is practised with great animation, and thousands of people

collect on the Delaware, at Philadelphia, when the stream is frozen.

An ox, on such occasions, has sometimes been roasted on the ice, near

the Mariners’ hotel, which is the hull of a large vessel, moored in the

river. Skating is very general amusement in the northern parts of the

United States, and there are few boys who have not a pair of skates.

_Coasting_ is another winter pastime, in which, as in many other games,

the labor seems to be at least equal to the pleasure. When the snow

covers the earth, a troop of joyous boys assemble on the top of a long

and steep hill, and each one sitting upon a little sled, gives it an

impulse which carries him to the bottom with accelerating velocity, and

far into the plain below. The motion is sometimes so swift that it is

like the sweep of an eagle. In the cities, fatal accidents occur in

following this amusement, and there are generally penalties imposed by

law for pursuing it there.

The coasting is performed, however, in the country, upon a grander

scale; the great ox sled, or sledge, is carried up with commendable

perseverance and toil, and so covered with youth of both sexes, that

little of the timber appears. When fitted, it is launched; but when

adrift it is more difficult to be guided than the single sledge, and

the whole freight is sometimes turned topsy turvy into a snow bank half

way down the hill. This, however, seems to increase the enjoyment. This

practice of coasting is even more common in New England than in the

middle states.

There are some traits of character which run through the southern

states, modified by a variety of circumstances, but most obviously and

generally by the system of domestic slavery. The character of Virginia

and South Carolina is perhaps, in many respects, superior to that of

the Southern states, yet the principal characteristics are common to

all. In Virginia, many of the old English modes of life are retained,

and the domains of the landed proprietors have the extent of English

baronies. Attachment to home, family connections, and profuse

hospitality, eminently distinguish this high-minded and honorable

class.