CHAPTER II.

Professor Wyman. — Indian Antiquities. — Concord. — Mr. Ralph

Waldo Emerson. — Margaret Fuller. — Note upon a visit to Mr.

Longfellow. — Saturday Club. — Dinner at Harvard University.—

Shell Mounds at Concord and Damariscotta. — Note upon the

Ancient Inscription upon the Dighton Rock.

Upon the day arranged for my visit to Cambridge, I found Professor

Wyman prepared to employ several hours in examining the Indian

collections. He proposed that we should begin by looking carefully over

the contents of a case within which was placed everything that had been

discovered in a burial mound in Illinois. The mound had contained the

bones of nine adults, several fragments of rude stone implements, and

some arrowheads. The skulls had been flattened and shaped by pressure.

We then examined the collections of human skulls that had been received

from all parts of the continent. Amongst these, were several of an

important character, obtained by Mr. Squier in Central America. They

were long and flattened upon the top, and were supposed to have

belonged to the race that built the stone temples in Yucatan. Other

groups were then compared. It was observable that some tribes had the

custom of pressing in the back of the head to such an extent as to make

it nearly perpendicular. Others pressed the skulls so as to give them

great length. In a few instances, they were given a tall, oval form.

The Californian Indians appear to have given their children a high,

receding forehead. This method of shaping the head is still followed by

the Flathead Indians in the West. It is done by the pressure of boards

tied together in such a manner that the infant gets its skull shaped

when it is in the cradle.

A question arose as to the effect of the artificial shapes of the

head upon the character of the tribes; and particularly, whether, in

accordance with certain theories, there was any known difference in

disposition between the tribes who flattened the forehead and those who

flattened the skull at the back. The Professor said that the matter

had been the subject of inquiry. It was considered, as far as could

be ascertained, that the alterations in shape made no difference in

the character, and that the Indians, whether with long, high, or flat

heads, were similar in their savage nature.

Amongst the Mexican antiquities were a number of terra-cotta figures

which were thought to be emblematic of the worship of serpents,

lizards, and other reptiles. There were also idols carved out of

hard, volcanic stone. After having seen these, and also quantities of

rudely shaped stones, which were probably used by the Indians on the

north-east coast for sinking their nets, the Professor began to examine

the various things that had been taken from the American shell mounds.

First, in order, were the collections that had been brought from Maine

and Massachusetts. There were oyster shells, the bones of wolves, deer

and birds, fragments of coarse pottery, layers of charcoal, and bone

awls. In the shell heaps at Concord there had been discovered various

stone weapons and flint arrowheads. In the Florida mounds there were

found the remains of crocodiles, implements made of stone, the bones of

deer, and numbers of small sharp needles, made from bird bones, which

had been used by hand.

It appears from the evidence obtained by the investigation of the

shell banks, that tribes of similar habits dwelt on the cold coasts

of New England and the almost tropical shores of Florida. It is also

clear, that in many of their customs and methods of obtaining food they

resembled the races that formed the kitchen middens in Denmark. Their

stone and flint implements and their bone awls and needles were of the

same shapes as those used by the prehistoric people who lived upon the

shores of the Swiss lakes.

Many of the stone axes and arrowheads that have been found in

the burial mounds, or in the neighbourhood of the ancient Indian

encampments in North America are of the same type, and show the same

system of workmanship as those that were made by the aboriginal tribes

in Western Europe. The similarities in form, size and methods of

adaptation for use are remarkable, for, although it may be expected

that men, in an uncivilised condition would, in all parts of the

world, have the same wants or necessities, yet it must be considered

surprising that in the construction of the implements for war and for

domestic purposes, the methods of design should be so singularly alike

amongst the savages of the old and new continents.

Upon a subsequent occasion, when the doubtful question of the influence

of the formation of the skull upon the mind was discussed, Mr. Ticknor

mentioned the singular fact that the head of Daniel Webster[7] grew

larger after he had passed middle age. His attention had been drawn

to this circumstance by observing a change in the likeness of that

statesman, and, as he knew Webster intimately, he asked him about

the matter, and Webster said, “Yes, I find that I have constantly to

increase the size of my hats.”

Towards the latter part of my stay in Boston, I received a letter from

Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson, asking me to dine with him at Concord, and

mentioning that he had also invited Mrs. Julia Ward Howe. Upon the day

he had fixed for the purpose, we travelled down to the station, and

were met by Miss Emerson, who drove us home in her quaint old-fashioned

carriage. The pony, she told us, was a friend who had been in the

family for twenty years. We were received by Mr. and Mrs. Emerson. A

few other guests came from Cambridge, and then we went in to dinner.

Mr. Emerson talked much of De Quincey, whom he had known at Lasswade,

near Edinburgh, and then referring to our English poets, mentioned

with admiration, Tennyson’s poem, “Tithonus.” One of his daughters

spoke with enthusiasm about Professor Agassiz’s deep sea dredgings, the

lectures upon which she had been attending.

Finally, the (always) absorbing topic of American politics was dwelt

upon, especially with respect to the effect of democratic institutions

upon the character of the people. Mr. Emerson alluded with much sadness

to those evil influences of political corruption and office-seeking

which appeared to be inevitable blots upon all systems of democracy,

but he said that he thought things would come right in the end. Upon

the various occasions that I met and conversed with leading politicians

(amongst whom was Chief Justice Chase), I observed that they usually

spoke of the future of their country with the same anxiety.

There was much doubt and uncertainty as to what was going to happen

in the Southern States, which had so recently been made desolate.

Men’s minds were still agitated by the memory of the serious events

that had happened during the Civil War. That great national convulsion

had engaged the thoughts and actions of all American citizens to the

fullest extent, and had necessarily diverted the conduct of affairs

from the ordinary channels. There was consequently a feeling of

disquietude amongst those who loved their country, their freedom and

their laws. But this temporary form of misgiving was always accompanied

by the firm conviction that in some manner, not then quite clear, the

nation would ultimately triumph over all difficulties.

After dinner, Mr. Emerson took me into the library, and began to look

over his books and point out his favourites. He said that what he most

delighted in were the translations from Persian and other Eastern

works. Finding that I was interested in his Oriental studies, he did

not care to quit his books, and so we remained in the library until it

was time to leave. In the meanwhile, he had taken down from the shelves

many volumes. He also showed me photographs of his friends, and drew my

attention to a likeness of Margaret Fuller, whom he had known for many

years, and for whom he had felt great regard and esteem.

Margaret Fuller, who must have been a woman of extraordinary

genius, was one of the leaders of the school of thought called

Transcendentalism. Her end was as strange as her life. She crossed

the Atlantic, travelled in Italy, married the Marchese d’Ossoli and

was in Europe when the Revolution of 1848 broke out. Her sympathies

being entirely with the cause of Italian freedom, she took a prominent

part, under the direction of Mazzini, Garibaldi and other patriots, in

the defence of Rome, doing much good service in the hospitals. After

the adverse events of 1849, she embarked with her husband on board a

sailing vessel bound for her own land, on the shores of which she was

wrecked in a storm and all perished.

Before we went away, Mr. Emerson suggested that I should look at the

exterior of the house, in which he seemed to take great interest. He

told me that he had lived in it thirty-five years and had only made one

change—the addition of the drawing room. It was an unpretending plank

building of two stories, standing in its own small grounds, and was

chiefly noticeable in consequence of having some fine chestnut trees in

front between the door and the road.

Upon our return to the city, the President of the University asked me

to be the guest of the Alumni of Harvard. His letter ran thus:—

“_June_ 23.”

“MY DEAR SIR,”

“On behalf of the Alumni of Harvard College, I invite you to be

present at the Commencement Dinner in Harvard Hall, Cambridge,

on Tuesday, the 29th inst. The Alumni and their guests will

assemble in Gore Hall, the Library, at 2 p.m. on that day. I

hope to receive your acceptance, and to have the pleasure of

meeting you on the occasion.”

“Very respectfully yours,

WM. GRAY,

_Pres. of Alumni Assoc._”

At one of the customary afternoon meetings of the members of the

Saturday Club, I dined with them as the guest of Dr. Howe. Among

those present were Mr. Sumner, Professor Wyman, Mr. Lowell, Judge

Hoar, Mr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, and Professor Gurney, the editor

of the North American Review. Mr. Emerson was the chairman. The

possibility of spontaneous generation, was the topic that happened to

be chiefly discussed. Professor Wyman had been carrying out a series of

experiments at Cambridge, and he told us what had been the results of

his experience. He said that he had ascertained that the theory that

boiling water killed life was, to a certain extent, erroneous. A first

boiling killed some of the living creatures, a second boiling killed

more, living organisms being reduced gradually in quantity. After a

fourth severe boiling he failed to trace any life whatever. Finally

after having carried out with great care, tests of all natures, he

doubted the possibility of creating life where no life had previously

existed.

In the following year I accepted the invitation of Mr. Ticknor

to stay a few days with him before leaving America, and I was

fortunate in meeting at his house, Mr. Longfellow, who, at

the time of my previous visit to Boston, was away from home,

travelling in England, chiefly, as he afterwards told me,

amongst the English lakes and in Devonshire. He proposed that

I should go and see him at Cambridge, and this was arranged,

and I went down there upon the first available day. I found

him in his study, a small room looking out upon the lawn, and

commanding a view of the country towards the bridge.

Before dinner, he showed me a bill of fare which had been

given to him at a public banquet in London, which was framed

and placed on the mantel piece of the dining-room. It was

a coloured drawing of a scene described in his poem of

“Hiawatha.” The sun was shining on the still waters of a

lake, or inland sea, and a group of Indians were gazing at

it. I think it was meant to represent the final departure of

Hiawatha, westwards towards the sunset.

Mr. Longfellow said that he was much pleased with this mark of

attention, not only on account of the merit of the picture, but

because he appreciated the feeling that prompted the gift, as

“Hiawatha” was the poem by which he most cared to be remembered.

He expressed strong sympathies with the poetical legends and

traditions of the Iroquois and Dakota Indians. His conversation

was, however, chiefly directed to the question of the future

social and political condition of the negroes in the Southern

States.

Later in the day, I witnessed a most important triumph of mechanics,

as applied to the removal of a heavy building. The house that was

being moved was large and strongly constructed of stone. It stood at

the corner of a street which was about to be widened, and therefore it

was necessary, either to pull it down or place it in another position,

and it had been decided to execute the latter operation. The building

had a frontage of seventy feet and a depth of one hundred feet. It was

composed of a basement, five principal stories and a Mansard roof.

The engineer in charge of the works told me that his calculations

were based upon having to move a weight of fifty thousand tons. At

the time I saw the house, it was full of residents, many of whom were

looking out of the windows and watching the proceedings. The contractor

permitted me to go underneath and observe the process of moving. The

weight was taken by a vast number of screw jacks, and the building was

lifted off the foundations. It was progressing towards its new site at

the rate of fourteen inches in one hour.

On Commencement Day I went down to Cambridge early in the afternoon,

and after being received by the President, fell into my place in the

ranks of the procession formed in the college grounds. We then marched

into dinner and I took my seat at the table. My immediate neighbours

were Mr. Lowell, Mr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Judge Hoar and Judge Grey.

About six hundred were present in the hall and three hundred dined in

another room. The gradations of age corresponded with the positions of

the tables. The seats towards the left were occupied by comparatively

young men, but on the right, were successive rows of heads, showing

advancing years, until upon the extreme right were the white haired

seniors.

At the conclusion of the dinner, in accordance with an ancient custom,

all stood up and sang a Psalm to the tune known by the name of St.

Martin. The President then gave his annual address and the usual

speeches followed. Mr. Adams made a good speech and referred to his

late absence as the United States Minister to Great Britain. The

President then rose and told the Alumni that a “representative of Great

Britain” was present and called upon me to respond. This I did as

briefly as possible, and upon resuming my seat I was astonished at the

enthusiastic manner with which the said representative was received.

After much cheering, the band played “God save the Queen,” which was

again the occasion for a strong outburst of cordial good feeling

towards England. As I looked down the hall I saw the slight, tall form

of Mr. Emerson bending forward as he joined in our National Anthem. Mr.

Holmes then recited a poem and Mr. Lowell gave a speech in which he

alluded to the question of the Alabama which was causing such bitter

feeling in America, and after speaking of the volcanic ground into

which he had wandered, said

“O matre pulchra filia pulchrior,

Pout if you will, but sulk not into war.

Had Adams stayed, this danger had not been,

This less than kindness of two more than kin.”

The singing of “Auld Lang Syne” was the fitting conclusion to an

interesting day.

Professor Wyman told me that, before leaving the States, I ought to

visit the shell mounds at Damariscotta in Maine and also those near

Concord. The latter were considered to be remarkable on account of

their being composed of fresh-water shells. Mr. Emerson had offered to

help me in my examination of them, but not wishing to occupy his time

in this unusual manner, I went down to Concord and tried to find them

by myself. In this attempt I failed, and, finally, I decided to obtain

his help. Fortunately, he was at home and at once put the harness on

his pony and drove me down to the place. We crossed some fields and

found the shell heaps near a sharp bend of the river. They were about a

hundred and fifty yards long, twenty yards wide and twelve feet high,

and were chiefly composed of mussel shells. For more than an hour we

worked zealously and made slight excavations at different parts of the

banks, and found some fragments of bones which had been shaped by hand,

but we were not successful in seeing any stone celts. We then went to

an adjoining hillock upon which the Indians were accustomed to encamp

and there we picked up three rudely-made arrow heads which had been

formed out of hard porphyritic stone.

After finishing the inspection of the middens, we went back to the

house, and remained for an hour or two in the library where we had tea.

Mr. Emerson told me that in order to pass through, with comparative

comfort, the long winter, he and others had formed a society of

twenty-five members and arrangements were made for meeting at their

respective houses. Each member gave a reception in turn upon Tuesdays.

When the time was at hand for going to the train he went to the stable,

and again harnessed the pony, and drove me to the station. When saying

“Good-bye,” he expressed many kind wishes with regard to my projected

journey.

Americans must naturally feel interested in whatever relates to the

past history of the native races who were the original inhabitants of

their country, and who possessed, in combination with their savage

nature and cruel practices, certain qualities of honour and fortitude

which seem to point to the existence of latent conditions of mind

placing them upon a different footing from other ordinary savage races.

Theories which relate to the migrations of the tribes who entered

Mexico from the North have also much attraction. As years roll onwards,

and the events, that then occurred, are more distant or obscure, the

causes of those movements and the origin of the influences that created

the subsequent advance in civilisation amongst those Indians are

becoming almost incomprehensible.

On the way from Concord towards Canada I stopped at Portsmouth for

the purpose of seeing the Navy Yard,[8] which was the last naval

establishment that I had to visit on the eastern coast, and then

proceeded to the remotely situated village of Damariscotta.

The shell mounds near the adjacent river far exceeded in magnitude

what I had expected to find. They were placed about twelve miles from

the sea within the limits of the ebb and the flow of the tides, and

formed the banks of a small promontory round which the river made a

sharp bend. Within these banks was a flat space of land which had been

used by the Indians for their camping ground, and which is known to

have been visited by small bands of them as late as the end of the last

century. The heaps extend along the shores of the river and round the

promontory for a length of about six hundred yards, and vary in height

from fifteen to thirty-five feet. It was difficult to estimate their

average width, but in many places it was not less than twenty-two yards.

The mound that I chiefly examined rose directly from the beach close to

the line of the present high water mark. It was thirty-three feet high,

sixty feet wide and one hundred and fifty feet long. Looking from the

river, it presented the appearance of a steep cliff formed of compact

layers of large oyster shells. In consequence of the face of this cliff

being exposed, it was possible to trace all the horizontal strata.

Beginning from the top of the bank there was, in the first place, a

deposit of shells closely packed about eighteen inches thick. Then

there was a well-defined layer of earth or mould, averaging a thickness

of half-an-inch throughout the whole length of the bank without any

break or change in its width. The next layer was not so deep as that on

the top, and was one foot thick. Then came another deposit of mould,

half-an-inch in thickness, resting upon another layer of shells. In

this manner, the alternating deposits of earth and shells succeeded

each other down to the base.

There were not any signs of kitchen midden refuse amongst the shells,

but in the intermediate layers of earth I saw fragments of broken

pottery, charred wood, several rounded stones, small quantities of

bones of animals, and one bone awl which had evidently been much used.

A portion of the cliff which had been undermined by the action of the

river had slipped down upon the beach, consequently the interior of the

mound was exposed. I made an excavation into this new face and found a

stone knife, or scraper, and a small stone chisel. In another part of

the bank I discovered a plank lying flat upon the third layer of mould

below the surface. It was made of fir, and was four feet six inches

long, six inches wide and half-an-inch thick.

These shell heaps, the relics of the feasts and food of the Indians,

although interesting as evidences of the habits of life of the savage

races that once occupied this part of America, prove but little more

than the fact that those races have existed and passed away. The

successive layers of earth in the heaps would enable an estimate to be

made of their age, if the length of the intervals of time that elapsed

between the encampments could be known. The saw-cut plank, resting upon

the third layer is an evidence that the two upper deposits of shells

were made since the arrival of the English colonists. The Indians then

dwelling on these lands were called the Abenakis. These oyster heaps

may have been raised by them when they visited the coast of Maine after

leaving their hunting grounds.[9]

Travels Amongst American Indians, Their Ancient Earthworks and Temples Including a Journey in Guatemala, Mexico and Yucatan, and a Visit to the Ruins of Patinamit, Utatlan, Palenque and Uxmal · 第 2 / 20 章