TOUR
OF
THE AMERICAN LAKES,
AND AMONG
THE INDIANS
OF THE
NORTH-WEST TERRITORY,
IN 1830:
DISCLOSING THE CHARACTER AND PROSPECTS OF THE
INDIAN RACE.
BY C. COLTON.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
FREDERICK WESTLEY AND A. H. DAVIS,
MDCCCXXXIII.
LONDON
R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD-STREET-HILL.
CONTENTS OF VOL. I.
Page
ADVERTISEMENT ix
INTRODUCTION xi
CHAP. I.
The Falls of Niagara 1
CHAP. II.
Niagara Whirlpool 12
CHAP. III.
Geographical description of the Great Lakes of North
America 21
CHAP. IV.
The Author’s motives for undertaking the _Tour_; character
of wild Indians 28
CHAP. V.
Romantic expectations; impressions of nursery tales
respecting Indians; the savage proper; embarkation
from Buffalo; beauties of Lake Erie; arrival
at Detroit 33
CHAP. VI.
History of Detroit:--early trading posts; Pontiac’s
conspiracy; Detroit saved; Pontiac’s death; description
and beauties of the Territory of Michigan 40
CHAP. VII.
Remarkable instance of capital crime 48
CHAP. VIII.
Embarkation from Detroit; Captain Symmes’s theory
of the earth; sail over Lake St. Clair; interest of
the scene; delta of the River St. Clair; relics of
French population; a picture of French and Indians 54
CHAP. IX.
River St. Clair; visit to Fort Gratiot; memoranda of
Lake Huron:--wild and picturesque scenery of its
northern regions; meeting with a canoe, manned by
eight Indians with the paddle; their dexterity and
the celerity of their movement; an Indian encampment;
their lodges; the Indian paddle quicker than
steam; the Indian’s love of money and whiskey;
an Indian salute; and several interesting incidents
of the passage among the islands of the north
margin of Huron 63
CHAP. X.
Arrival at the _Saut de St. Marie_; origin of this name;
the Falls; an interesting young lady, whose mother
was an Indian and her father a Scotchman; peculiar
and moral power of Indian languages 80
CHAP. XI.
Voyage from the Saut de St. Marie to Green Bay;
the thirty-two thousand islands; the scenery they
create; description of Michillimackinack; the sugar-loaf
and arched rock; arrival at Green Bay in the
North-West Territory 88
CHAP. XII.
Political relations of the American Indian tribes; their
rights ostensibly, but not really respected; the pre-emption
right and its operation; the original claims
of Europeans a precedent; late juridical decision
of the American Supreme Court; Great Britain
and the United States both responsible in the treatment
and for the fate of the Indians 96
CHAP. XIII.
Vindication of the American Indians from the charge
of being Savages; their domestic affections kind and
amiable; their savage passions artificial, kindled by
the war-dance, and only for war; the Indian in war
is frantic, and never the aggressor, without a sense
of injury; Indian character essentially modified by
contact with the European race 109
CHAP. XIV.
Gradual extinction of the Eastern tribes; the New
York tribes advised to remove to the North-West
Territory; concurrence of the General Government
in the plan; parts of the Indians agree to it; the
nature of the understanding; their purchase of land
and removal; their expectations; their disappointment;
supposed scheme for breaking up this new
arrangement, and the result of it; the reasons for
this narrative; extracts from the Rev. Dr. Morse’s
Report to Congress, evincing the views then entertained
in regard to this removal of the New York
Indians 122
CHAP. XV.
The design of the Commission of 1830 to Green Bay;
ignorance of Government of the state of the case;
history of the title in dispute and the measures
employed to invalidate it 144
CHAP. XVI.
Burning and massacre of Deerfield in Massachusetts;
the infant daughter of the Rev. Mr. Williams
snatched from the cradle, and carried into captivity;
is retained, and marries an Indian Chief; her descendants;
the Rev. Eleazer Williams, formerly of
the St. Regis, now of the Oneida tribe, one of
them; was brought to New England in childhood,
and there educated; Mr. Williams and the Author
school-fellows; Mr. Williams engaged in the American
army during the late war; afterwards ordained
to the Christian ministry by Bishop Hobart, and
established among the Oneidas, near Utica 154
CHAP. XVII.
The Rev. Mr. Williams takes the lead in the removal
of the New York Indians to Green Bay; after a
long separation, the Author meets him there in
1830; the importance of his public duties in that
infant settlement of his people; ascent of Fox
River; deceitfulness of the Indian canoe; incidents;
arrival at Mr. Williams’s house; Mr. Williams’s developement
of his plans; his disappointment 167
CHAP. XVIII.
An account of the Stockbridge tribe, and their settlement
on Fox River; the Rev. John Sergeant, the first
Christian Missionary to the tribe, from England; the
Oxford Bible (1717) presented by the Rev. Dr.
Francis Ayscouth, in 1745; the improvement of
these Indians in civilization and the Christian religion;
a Sabbath among them; their exemplary
religious order; their attachment to their religious
teachers; Sunday school; their church music and
psalmody; the parish beadle; their dress and manners;
an impromptu-Indian speech; Indian politeness;
reflections 185
CHAP. XIX.
The Oneida settlement at Duck Creek, under the care
of the Rev. Mr. Williams; its flourishing condition;
discouraging prospects of these tribes, and the disturbance
of their relations with the ancient and
wilder tribes of the territory 203
CHAP. XX.
The manner in which the Commission from Government
summoned the Council; instructions imposed
on the Commission, and difficulties created by them;
assembling of the Indians, and the setting up of
their encampments; modes of dress; a city of
Indian lodges; demoralizing influence of these
public councils; drunkenness; the ruin of a young
Indian female 212
CHAP. XXI.
Organization and opening of the Council; the Council-house;
singular formalities; smoking of the pipe;
grotesque appearance of the assemblage; the New
York Indians compared with the wild tribes;[1] the
different tribes represented in Council; modes of
interpretation; the chastened oratory of the New
York Indians; John Metoxen (a Stockbridge
chief); his last Speech in Council; Indian shrewdness;
oratory of the wild Indians, itself wild, but
often powerful; piety of the Indians 226
CHAP. XXII.
Charge of Indian affairs in the War Department; the
course pursued by the New York Indians at the
Council, in the vindication of their rights; the
object of the Commission defeated 245
CHAP. XXIII.
Specimens of Indian speeches 252
CHAP. XXIV.
Freemasonry among the Indians; Medicine-dance;
the faith of the Indians in its miraculous efficacy;
the manner of it; it often kills the patient; the war-dance;
account of one witnessed by the Author;
the preparations; the instruments of music for the
occasion; the horrible manner in which they dress
and paint themselves; the exciting influence of the
exercises; description of them; the motives acting
upon the mind, and working the passions into
frenzy; the war-whoop; its shrill voice, and piercing,
startling effect; an unexpected and alarming
incident;--a second war-dance among the Osages,
west of the Mississippi 271
CHAP. XXV.
Specimens of Indian speeches of former times, with
anecdotes:--the vision of an Indian chief, narrated
by himself; speech of an Indian captain to his
warriors; murder of the family of Logan, and his
speech to Lord Dunmore; the Indian chief’s answer
to General Knox’s inquiry--“What is the
matter, brother? You look sorry;” speech of _Cornplanter_
to General _Washington_; of a Pawnee chief
to President _Monroe_; anecdote of a Pawnee Brave 301
ADVERTISEMENT.
_Prefaces and Introductions are commonly esteemed the_ last _words of
the Author, put in the_ first _place, as his right rather than the
reader’s privilege, to vex and impede the inclination to get at the
main design; and for this reason are very often passed over. But the
Author begs leave to say--that in this instance, the Introduction is
the_ Key.
_It will be found, that the_ minor _part of the Title indicates the_
major _of the subject in respect to importance, though not perhaps in
matter for amusement_.
INTRODUCTION.
Why should this book be written? To give information. But was it
proper to come through such hands, and to be communicated in such
circumstances?
As to the first of these questions, the Author happened to have in
his possession a portfolio of incidents and observations, recorded by
his own hand, during a tour through the wild and romantic regions of
the American Lakes, and a visit among several tribes of Indians in
the North-West Territory, in 1830. It happened also, that this visit
in the North-West gave him an opportunity of being present at a great
and eventful Council, composed of representatives of the chiefs of
several Indian nations and a Commission from the Government of the
United States, the developements of which were somewhat extraordinary
and extremely interesting. The second ACT of this Council and its
concluding scenes, viewed dramatically, were opened at the city of
Washington, in the following winter; of which also the Author was a
spectator, and in which were exhibited the entire scope of Indian
affairs in America, displaying very conspicuously and impressively
their more recent enactments. The interest of these events chained the
Author’s attention, excited his sympathies for the ancient race of
American Aborigines, and induced him to avail himself of all possible
means of becoming acquainted with the history of their wrongs. His
opportunities were abundant. He had never meditated, however, any
public use of the observations he had made and of the information he
had been able to collect, until a year after his arrival in England;
when it was suggested to him, in conversation with some friends,
that the materials in his possession were in many respects novel and
interesting; and some motives were presented for embodying them in a
form to be submitted to the public eye.
But the difficult question was:--What the form should be? The maxim of
Byron: “Truth is strange, stranger than fiction”--was perhaps never
more applicable, than to the principal subject of these pages. The
history of the American Indians is the _Romance of Fact_. It needs
not a single dash of the pencil--not a single ingredient of the
sentimentality of poetry, to give it life and power over the feelings.
The naked truth has in it more of poetry and a more energetic challenge
on the affections, than any possible embellishment, or fictitious
garniture, that could be thrown around it--more than any creations of
fancy, with which it could be charged. Show that race, as they _are_
and _have_ been, and none of human kind can fail to be interested in
them.
But there were many reasons, notwithstanding, why, if the Author
consented to make any public use of the facts in his possession, he
should embody them under a mixed garb of romance and history. And he
actually proceeded so far, as to execute one volume under this plan.
But after submitting it to other minds, a grave discussion arose, and
it was earnestly insisted:--that it should be _properly fiction_, or
_sober history_;--and it was agreed, that the facts were abundantly
sufficient to demand the last, and that no fictitious dress could equal
the interest of the exact truth.
Having resolved upon the historical course exclusively, the delicate
situation of the Author, as an American, came next to be considered.
It was impossible for him to do justice to this subject, as it stood
before his mind and rested upon his own feelings, without entering
somewhat largely into the discussion of the recent policy of his own
Government towards the Indians. To suppress the detail, would dilute
the whole into insipidity; to give it, would necessarily involve more
or less of disclosure.
The principal considerations, which settled the Author’s purpose, in
regard to the course he has pursued, are here submitted:--
1. The fate of the American Indians, whether they shall exist or be
annihilated, has come to a crisis.
2. Their rights are properly the cause of humanity, and though well
defined in the conscience of _the world_, are yet undefined and
unsettled in the _fact_ and operation of their social and political
relations; and these rights can only be fixed by a thorough public
discussion before the world, which will claim to be arbiter in the
case, and which alone, as a community of nations, is likely to be a
fair court of appeal. The question of their rights is so prominent and
interesting, that the world _will_ sit in judgment upon it; and the
sooner their opinion is formed and expressed, the better. That judgment
can hardly be wrong; and it must also be respected and influential, if
it comes in season. Indeed, the very anticipation of it, may possibly
answer all the purpose.
3. The challenge of the attention of the British community to this
subject is especially proper, as they are involved in the same
responsibility with the United States, by having an equal number of
Indians, more or less, upon their hands, in their North American
colonies; over whom their Colonial Governments are compelled to
legislate, and whose existence and future amelioration depend upon
the treatment they shall receive from those authorities. The Indians
of the Canadas have no formal guarantee of their distinct rights,
which they can assert against being removed at the pleasure of the
Colonial Governments; and whenever the white population crowds upon
them, they are subject to the same train of injuries, which have
been suffered in the adjoining States. The Author ventures upon this
statement rather on the presumption afforded by the actual course of
events, than by his knowledge, that formal stipulations, defining
a different treatment, are actually wanting. If such stipulations
exist, the course pursued is doubly aggravating, and no better, so
far as can be seen, than in the United States, except that the actual
progress of events has not attained so complete a developement. The
Author has endeavoured to show, that the salvation of the Indians, as
a race, depends jointly upon Great Britain and the United States; and
inasmuch as the crisis of their destiny has evidently arrived, it is
deemed proper and obligatory, that their case, with the history and
nature of their wrongs, should be laid without disguise before the
two communities--unless their doom must be considered as unavoidably
forestalled, and themselves abandoned to annihilation.
While the sympathies of the British nation are being roused--nay, are
actually alive and thoroughly challenged in behalf of the _black_
slave, it is perhaps the fittest moment to incorporate with the same
feelings the congenial sentiments of compassion for the _red_ man
of America, whose unfortunate destiny hitherto has actually been
controlled as much by British influence in former ages, as that of the
African slave. If Great Britain is responsible for the redemption of
800,000 degraded and enslaved blacks, she is also responsible for a
kind treatment and for the social and political elevation of perhaps
half that number of a people, whose condition, though nominally more
independent, is scarcely less unfortunate; and whose misfortunes have
been induced by the encroachments and political measures of their
white neighbours. If the slaves of the British colonies have dwindled
in numbers, and the increase of nature been stifled in the womb, by
direct and positive oppression, the American Indians have also dwindled
most fearfully by influences, more indirect perhaps, but scarcely less
cruel and involving no less of responsibility; and a responsibility,
which attaches alike and equally to the Government of Great Britain, as
to that of America. As the original sin of African slavery in the west
confessedly fastens on the British crown, so the original institution
of Indian relations to civilized society in North America was organized
and fashioned by the same authority. And as for this reason, it was
not unbefitting, that the British crown should be first in the work of
redeeming the slave, the door is equally open for British virtue to
lend its sympathies and display its energies in behalf of the American
Aborigines. It is time at least that an expression of public sentiment
should be given on this great question of philanthropy. If it is true,
that _now_ is the time to redeem the slave; it is no less true, that
_now_ is the time to save the American Indian. And inasmuch, as the
British public have a duty incumbent upon them in this matter, in
common with the Americans, it has been thought pertinent by the Author
to lay this subject before them; although from the necessity of his
task, his strictures on the unjust treatment of the Indians have been
principally confined to the Government of his own country.
4. Inasmuch as the recent measures of the American Government, in
relation to the Indians, are before the world, and must necessarily
make their impression, the Author has considered that a substantial
history of the case in its principal details, and an exposure of the
great moral causes, which have induced this state of things, would
rather be a relief, than a cloud over the reputation of his country
in this particular. Nothing could possibly be more unfavourable,
than the impression of the GRAND FACT _unexplained_; and that could
never be repressed, or in any way concealed. The reader, who shall be
sufficiently interested to go over these pages, will find here and
there the historical and moral _rationale_ of this great question and
its results; by which it will appear, that the _denouement_ stands
related to influences, most of them remote and controlling, which do
not at all affect the character of the institutions of the country, and
which no more determine the disposition of the people.
A sentiment is indeed expressed in a document of the Appendix from the
Governor of Georgia, that the recent election of the officers of the
General Government has not only approved the policy of removing the
Indians, but sanctioned the course of Georgia towards the Cherokees.
That justification, however, is to be regarded merely as _convenient_
in the circumstances, and not as containing valid reasons. It might be
and no doubt is true, that in the recent election, the dominant party
of the Union were blinded by their leaders on the _Indian question_;
but it is not true, that the sober voice of the nation, enlightened
by the facts and merits of the case, has ever been expressed. There
has neither been opportunity for them to be informed, nor time for
them to act, upon it. The result of the election was owing entirely to
other and great questions. If the Indian question were the only one
to influence the public mind in a general election, and the people
could have opportunity to be fairly and fully enlightened, the Author
does not believe that one voice in ten thousand would sustain the more
violent measures, which have recently been pursued, and which he in
conscience has been obliged to disapprove.
The Author has considered it suitable and due to the cause of truth,
that the world should understand, that the American people, _as a
body_, would never sanction this course of treatment of the Indians,
which is here assumed as injurious; that, being taken by surprise,
it was impossible for a whole people, embarrassed by other and
all-absorbing questions, to apply an immediate remedy; that so far as
they have been informed, they have already expressed their strongest
sympathy; that nothing could remonstrate more loudly, or speak more
eloquently, than the demonstrations of public feeling, already
made; that the people have been compelled to wait for a decision of
the Supreme Judiciary of the nation, and for the operation of that
decision; and that the general election was controlled by other
questions, before the people could possibly be enlightened on this. And
now that that decision has been obtained, it is producing its proper
influence, as the standard of public opinion.
While the Author has wished and tried to declare himself prudently,
he has deemed it proper to do it decidedly. The injuries done to the
Indians he has considered of a nature not to be parleyed with, and for
which no apology can be made. He has considered, that a frank exposure
and a full confession of the wrong would be more honourable to his
country, than any attempts at concealment; that the wound inflicted on
the nation’s reputation cannot be aggravated by such a course; that
the proofs of the susceptibilities of the people to sympathize in
these wrongs and to repair them, so far as possible, are shewn partly
in their readiness to confess them; that the public opinion of the
world, seasonably expressed, or anticipated, must necessarily be no
unimportant ingredient in the measure of redeeming influences; and
that the best friends of the nation and of the Indians ought not to be
identified with the _few_, who have happened, in the course of events,
to obtain a controlling influence, though it is believed transiently,
over the whole affair. The decision of the Supreme Court may fairly
be taken, as an expression of the _will_ of the people, when it can
be legitimately developed. For these and such reasons the Author has
considered it proper to exhibit enough of detail to lay open the
general subject historically, and to express his own opinion without
reserve.
* * * * *
The Author thinks it due to himself to observe, that he has never
been connected, nor in any way personally interested, in either of
the great political parties of his country; nor is he conscious of
being influenced by party feeling in the production of this work. He
sympathizes generally with the principles, on which his own Government
is administered, and cherishes a respect for the men at its head.
But on the _Indian question_ he is conscientiously and _toto cœlo_ at
variance with their views. And it is because he loves the institutions
of his country and wishes to see the national constitution and public
treaties preserved inviolate; and because, from personal observation
and knowledge, he has been obliged to feel a deep sympathy for the
Indians, in view of what he esteems encroachment on their rights--that
he has undertaken the task embodied in these pages, and endeavoured
to separate between Indian wrongs and the legitimate operation of the
Government. And so long as he finds himself in company with the Supreme
Court of the nation, he will at least feel himself well sustained.
* * * * *
It is not improbable, that the reader may feel, that too much of the
second volume is occupied in discussion, and in the refutation of
certain doctrines and statements there encountered from the North
American Review. The Author, wishing to avoid personality as much as
possible, has omitted to bring out the authority of that article.
It may be proper, however, here to mention, that it originated from
a high source in the Government--a source now at the head of Indian
affairs--and may fairly be taken as the creed of principles, by which
those affairs are at present governed. This fact may perhaps be a
sufficient apology for giving the argument so extended a consideration.
And while the Author has felt obliged to treat some of the doctrines
there advanced with severity, he most cheerfully expresses his high
consideration for the personal character of his adversary, and for
his public official career, in all that does not respect the use and
application of the principles here contested. In that matter the
Author must stand at variance, from a full conviction, not only of the
Indian’s susceptibility of being raised, in intellectual, moral, and
civil improvements, to command an equal respect with any other race
of men--but also from a no less decided conviction of the Indian’s
unqualified and just demand to be admitted to an equality of social and
political rights;--and more especially, that the Indian should realize
the full benefit of all the public engagements, that have been made in
his favour and for the attainment of these objects.
* * * * *
As one of the moral causes, which have operated in the United States
to the detriment of Indian rights, the Author has felt obliged, from
his own convictions, to specify the paramount influence of slavery.
It is well known, that ancient impulses of a vicious tendency, in
the constitution of human society, will often continue to operate
disastrously, even after they have been checked by the incipient
stages of reformation. Such is emphatically the case with slavery.
It is undoubtedly true, that the American Colonization Society has
begun to shed a most benign influence on the slavery of that country.
It has forced into public and universal discussion a question, which
the National Legislature, by the constitution of the Government,
could never touch--inasmuch as every several State is left by that
instrument, as sovereign and independent, in regard to all State
prerogatives, not surrendered in the Federal compact, as any foreign
nations are in relation to each other. But the Colonization Society
has commenced a career of extended and rapidly increasing influence,
which has already affected essentially and radically the moral elements
of society in the Southern and Slave States, in relation to slavery.
And notwithstanding, that the influence of ancient impulses of this
vicious character has doubtless operated to the violation of Indian
rights--it is no less true, that a slavery reformation has already
commenced and extensively infused its leaven throughout the mass of the
Slave States, by the instrumentality of the above-named institution.
While, therefore, the one agency is stated, as the result of remote
influences, for the time being uncontrolled in this, as well as in
other directions, it is not to be considered as impossible with the
contemporaneous existence and increasing influence of the other. The
former may have and doubtless has produced the effect ascribed to it,
while the latter is gaining an ascendency, which at a later period
would entirely have prevented this deplorable issue.
* * * * *
The Author has been aware, that these volumes will afford some
additional elements for those strictures and censures on the American
Republic, which have been so liberally and customarily rendered by
a portion of the British press. And while much has often been made
of little and much out of nothing, these, it must be confessed, are
not altogether unsubstantial materials for the gratification of such
feelings. While the Author has undertaken in another place, as may
possibly be known to some extent, to rebuke a disposition to find fault
where there was no reason for it, he will perhaps have proved in this
instance, that he would not cover a real sin even in his own house,
when the rights of communities and the cause of humanity demand a
developement. Those whom these disclosures may gratify, are freely
offered all which they afford; while the discriminating and the fair
will doubtless view and present the case, as it is, if they shall be
disposed to notice it at all:--they will not tax the institutions of
the country, nor the disposition of the people, as a body, with the
iniquity--while it may still be fairly maintained, that the nation is
responsible and bound before the world and heaven to make atonement.
It does not well become one nation to be accusing another of
oppressions and violence, merely for the sake of elevating itself by
comparison, when both, in the present imperfect state and imperfect
operation of their institutions, have their faults of this description.
Better, that the common cause of freedom and humanity should be made a
common interest among the advocates of right throughout the world, that
any case of the violation of right might be widely and freely exposed,
and universally reprobated. Certainly, in the matter constituting a
prominent subject of these pages, Great Britain and America are too
deeply involved to furnish a warrant for crimination on either side.
The community of nations is rapidly assuming a character like a
community of individuals; and for the same reasons, that the latter
have a common right in determining the social relations and defining
the modes of intercourse, the former should openly and freely
discuss and socially determine _their_ relations. As every member
of a community of individuals may rightfully have a voice in all
the regulations enacted for the common good--so every member of the
community of nations is interested in the code of international law,
and may fairly claim its right in the discussion and settlement of
fundamental principles;--and since, when any member of the minor
community is injured, it is a proper subject of public alarm and
investigation, so when the rights of any nation, or tribe, are
violated, it makes a legitimate ground for a common adjudication, at
least for the interchange and expression of opinion, and the employment
of influence. We have high authority for the saying: “When one member
suffers, all the members suffer with it;” they ought certainly to
sympathize.
* * * * *
It will be observed, that the scene of the first volume is laid on the
American Lakes and in the North-West Territory. The latter is a civil
division of the American jurisdiction, lying on the upper waters of
the Mississippi river and the shores of Lakes Superior and Michigan,
and not on the Pacific Ocean, as is sometimes, and in foreign parts
perhaps more commonly, understood by this name.
The Author feels obliged to say, that, not having anticipated the
execution of this task, before he came to England, he has found
himself wanting in many important documents, which would have been a
material improvement of the work, and rendered it far more complete.
The Indian speeches delivered at the council of Green Bay, once in his
possession and taken down by his own hand, were left behind. To supply
this defect, he has taken the liberty of constructing a few specimens,
as nearly after the manner of the Indians, as his impressions and
recollections would enable him to do. And while it is due to historical
verity to make this acknowledgment, the Author may perhaps be permitted
to say, without a breach of modesty, that having once made a copy of
all those transactions at the time and as they occurred, together with
the speeches that were delivered by the Indians, and having been long
in habits of intimate intercourse with them, in public and private,
he ought to be qualified to do them something like justice in such a
trifling attempt. He may also add, that having on various occasions
complied with the requests of the Indians to assist them in their
communications with the official agents of Government, he necessarily
became acquainted with their peculiarities of thought, and feeling,
and modes of speech. One of their chiefs paid the Author the following
compliment to the point in question, at the city of Washington, on
the occasion of soliciting him to draw up an address to the Senate of
the United States in their behalf: “You talk our talk better than we
can talk it for ourselves.” This, however, merely to shew, that the
author has had some custom in speaking for them. The examples given
in the chapter above alluded to, are offered, as _things like_ what
they stand for; and the Author is confident, that the _likeness_ would
be acknowledged even by the Indians themselves. At the same time,
that they support the Indian _argument_, (the one ascribed to the
Winnebago-Chief only excepted, which is a pure invention to exemplify
the wild incoherency, which sometimes characterizes savage oratory,)
they are also intended as specimens of that simplicity of thought
and reasoning, which the Indians are accustomed to demonstrate. The
civilized Indians of the New York tribes at Green Bay reason quite as
well, as the Author has represented.
The other specimens of Indian speeches, the Author is not responsible
for. They are extracts from authorities, to which they are ascribed.
As the Rev. Mr. Williams, of the Oneida tribe, occupies a conspicuous
place in this work, the Author begs leave to say, that some very
trivial errors may possibly occur in the notices taken of him,--but
not material. The conversations and remarks ascribed to Mr. Williams,
and in one place an extended part of a colloquy with the Author,
in which he appears as the principal speaker, are a compressed and
comprehensive statement of the substance of numerous communications,
reduced principally from recollection. The Author would not, therefore,
make Mr. Williams responsible for every expression, that may be found
in these conversations, as coming from him. All the Author can pretend
is, that he has endeavoured faithfully to transcribe the copy afforded
by his memory, in the selections made. The exact original forms of
communication could not of course be expected.
It is possible also, that some other of the historical and narrative
portions of the first volume may not have made exactly the same
impressions on the minds of other witnesses, as are recorded by the
Author. He does not think, however, that these differences could be
numerous, or in any degree important.
It will doubtless seem remarkable, that Indian wrongs in America could
have proceeded so far without more public remonstrance and without the
application of a remedy. But it may easily be seen, that a civilized
and powerful government, having come in contact and formed permanent
relations with barbarous, or semi-barbarous, and consequently inferior,
and in some respects, dependent tribes, may have practised, or suffered
to be practised, long continued and petty oppressions, necessarily
vexatious and destructive to the subjects, before they have come to
the notice of the world, so as to shock essentially the moral sense
of mankind. Where have such relations existed without these results?
Suppose the book of history, detailing things of this kind, that have
occurred in the East Indies for ages past, were open to the world?
The _little_ that has transpired may be enough to _suggest_ what
remains untold. It is only when acts of injustice, or of cruelty, more
atrocious, occur, that the attention and sympathies of mankind are
roused.
Besides, injustice is more apparent when the temper of the age is mild,
and the state of the world comparatively quiet. The better part of
mankind can see it more distinctly, and a better opportunity is given
to expose it. Injustice, when estimated by the proper rule, is always
the same. But it is not always the same thing in men’s minds. That
which would have been a trifle in one age, or in one part of the world,
may be an enormity in another.
It was not till recently, within four to six years--more especially
within four--that the more flagrant acts of injustice toward the
American Indians, have challenged public attention. And, as has been
before remarked, it has not been possible, within this period and in
existing circumstances, to bring in a remedy. The current of mischief
was too wide and deep and strong to be arrested, or turned in a day.
_London, June, 1833._
A TOUR, &c.
CHAPTER I.
THE FALLS OF NIAGARA.
Who has not heard of Niagara Falls? And he who has been there, if he
possesses ought of a relish for the grand and awful, if he can admire
the way and love the voice of God, will never lose the impressions of
the scene. The mountain has its majestic forms. But its eloquence,
though impressive, is silent, except when the storm begins to move upon
its head, and roar along its sides, and brush its everlasting crags,
and bellow over the mouths of its caverns; or when the avalanche comes
thundering from its brow to worship at its feet; and he who happens
to be there perchance shall never come away. The wilderness has its
romantic and unexplored solitudes, and the desert its interminable
wastes, or its burning sirocco; but there is no comfort to exempt the
mind from external annoyances. The ocean, tempest-tossed, prepares in
the deep a watery shroud for the body by the same hand, with which
it proffers a festival of sublimity to the soul. With him who has
gone safely through, the very contingencies of his passage may indeed
augment the power and add intensity to the character of his emotions,
while hanging in retrospect over the recollections of his peril. Still
there was peril--and with peril there is pain.
But not so in the peaceful retreat of Niagara’s eternal cataract. There
the mind may rest from anxiety. The spectator may sit, and see, and
hear, and never grow weary of the scene. He may change his position. He
may walk along the banks of the majestic current, from the entrance of
Chippewa’s dark waters, following its course, and witnessing how the
flood begins to make haste. He may see the glassy surface beginning
to be disturbed by the increased rapidity; and now the vast volume
leaping a shelf, and showing the form of an ocean wave; and now leaping
another shelf, and another, and yet another, until the mighty torrent,
descending a steep declivity, bounds over its broken and craggy bed,
itself as yet unbroken, so deep and measureless the flood. Then he
marks the earnestness, the very passion of its career, as if it were
glad to burst at once from its confinements above, and eager to plunge
into the abyss below. He who has seen the troubled ocean after a
storm, has only to imagine those heaving billows descending a mountain
side, himself looking up from below on their downward course, and it
is the very picture presented from the table rock of Niagara, as the
spectator, turning his back on the chasm, with the cataract immediately
on his left, faces the descending torrent, and lifts his eye on the
mountain declivity of waters, which comes leaping, and rolling, and
tumbling, as if from the clouds, or the azure heavens which peer above
the tops of the waves. And this only a preparation for the fall--a
collection and multiplication of forces for the stupendous leap. Next
the enrapt beholder turns his eye upon the curvilinear margin of the
awful shelf; he bends to look downward from his giddy elevation, and
there an ocean of waters, which he had just seen rushing with most
alarming impetuosity from above, now plunges into the abyss, as if
to drive asunder the base of the hills. The firm rock, on which he
stands, shudders--himself shudders, while the roar, and tumult, and
tempest of the chasm send up their thunders to his ear, and drive the
currents of their watery mist like the whirlwind in their windings and
fitful moods, and with all the force of the tornado.
He may descend, if he will, (and he must be alike wanting in courage
and taste if he declines) to the level which these waters have formed
by their daring leap. There, housed beneath the impending and lofty
crag, itself jutting far out over the bosom of the deep, as if curious
to witness more and all of the scene, himself may look _up_ on that
which just now, bending from above, he had looked down upon. And now he
has before him nought but the mighty cataract, like an ocean, spilling
itself in one vast sheet from those regions of the heavens, where the
highest stars are seen at night, and where the summer’s sun walks in
his strength at mid-day. And let him not fear the whirling eddies of
the suspended waters, thrown out from the thickest of the tumult, and
dashing upon him now their softer mists, and now their sheets of a
driving storm. He should brave all this, and more, if he would see
what every brave man should see. He must take the hand of a competent
guide, and make his circuit over the broken fragments of the rocks, far
round and underneath the projecting and awful shelf, over which the
mighty tide takes its final plunge. And when perchance an eddying blast
shall burst upon him, he must hug the rock till its transient fury is
exhausted, and then push on, still resorting to the same expedient on
the recurrence of a like exigency, until he has gone as far as man may
dare to go, and turns and sits him down to face the inner face of this
strange vision. Then, indeed, he will find himself in the midst of an
awful tempest, menaced and assaulted on all sides by whirlwind blasts,
and enlightened only with the light which the whitened foam reflects on
that dark cavern; but still in safe condition, except the rare chance
of the fall of some fragment of the rocks above, for ever oppressed and
shaken as they are by the superincumbent and rushing flood. Of that,
however, he must not think; in such predicament it were unpleasant. The
last fall of the kind, a few years since, which brought ten thousand
tons, or more, in a single mass, happened in the night,--and so may
the next; and the next may be centuries to come. Let him rather make
the best of his daring; and not only be able to say that _he_ has been
there, but feel that it was a rare and enviable privilege. Who can
well imagine the wild commotion and deafening uproar of the scene?
The loudest piping of the ocean blast, and the fiercest march of its
mountain wave, are a mere lullaby song to the thunder of this encounter.
The visitor will not fail to cross to the _American_ side, as it is
called,--as though Canada were not in America. And this vice is well
enough understood here, where it originated--or rather the compliment
done to the United States and her citizens, by making them the
representatives of the entire continent, and alluding to them, as
if they were its sole lords and occupants. Are the United States so
important, as to be entitled to this high distinction of standing for
_America_, and that _Americans_ should every where be the _synonyme_ of
citizens of that republic? What accident has given so small a portion
of that world such a prominence?
The notices we have already taken of Niagara Falls have been from the
Canada side, which are altogether most interesting, and the views most
sublime. For a relief of the almost painful emotions, by which the mind
of the beholder has been exercised,--at one time excited in admiration,
now rapt in ecstacy, and now overwhelmed by the mingled effect of
grandeur and tumult and fury,--let him throw himself into a small boat
on the bosom of Niagara, directly under the Falls, where, conscious of
safety, though tossed like a feather in the fitful wind by the boilings
of that unfathomable _linn_, or basin, where the waters, which a moment
before sprung in such mighty volume from the brow of yonder precipice,
now heave and roll and break in eddies of fearful aspect, as if to
give expression to their pain and agony, or vent to the joy of their
escape;--on such a sea of foam, where the last breath of the conflict
is evidently spent, and the agitated element labouring to be composed,
he may rest and float secure, and look at the base, and look midway,
and lift his eye to the summit of that unceasing, never-dying cataract.
He may estimate its superficial dimensions, he may imagine its depth,
and wonder still at its roar and tumult. From the same position he may
turn his eye to the left of _Goat Island_, on the _American_ side, and
witness a still more lofty cataract, but more modest, not yet presuming
to assert such profound pretensions, descending in a silvery sheet, as
if from an artificial shelf, connecting the island with the shore; and
dashing on the rocks below, displays a vast bed of fleecy whiteness,
like a storm of the thickest and purest snow, reflected by the sun.
At the head of the rapids, about one mile from the Falls in direct
line, but from two to three miles by the line of the Canada shore,
the river is divided by the island above named, turning, perhaps,
one-tenth of the current to the American side. This smaller portion
would be a great river by itself--and the channel through which it
descends, and the final plunge of its waters, are in many respects more
romantic, though less grand and awful, than the course and fall of the
principal torrent. The shelf of the cataract on the American side is
to the eye and in fact higher than the point of the _Horse Shoe_, as
it is called, where is the greatest depth and force of the river, as
it leaps from the precipice. This single feature of superior elevation
gives advantage to the American side, and in this particular it stands
invested in a more majestic form. But the deep, and comparatively
unperturbed current descending from the Horse Shoe, suggests the
vastness of its volume, imparts to it the highest consideration, and
chains the mind with the intensest interest.
By the noble enterprise of a wealthy individual, Judge Porter, a bridge
has been thrown across from the American shore to Goat Island, directly
over the most impetuous current of the rapids, and but a few rods
above the fall--an almost incredible achievement of human art, and
of human power over natural obstacles. To facilitate the undertaking,
there happened to be the natural abutment of an islet midway the
channel, saving the necessity of more than two or three additional
ones, which were sunk and secured at great expense and difficulty. By
this means, this heretofore inaccessible island, covered with wood,
a most beautiful and romantic retreat, has been opened to free and
easy access; and one of the most advantageous views of the Falls is
to be gained from its brow, hanging between the two cataracts. The
passage across this bridge is somewhat frightful, from the rapidity
of the current, and the startling thought of hanging suspended over a
torrent, so fiercely dashing onward, to leap the next moment from such
a giddy height. The mind at once begins to calculate the chances of
some accident to the bridge. The bare possibility of the sudden slide
of a pier, over which you stand, from the face of the rock, on which
it rests, and the inevitable consequence, shocks the feelings with the
shuddering sensation of horror; and the hastened step of the passenger
will sufficiently indicate the involuntary impulse by which he has been
overtaken. No one, however, should deny himself the gratification of
visiting the island. It is like as if a bridge had been made to the
moon, once as unexpected, and deemed alike impossible.
The views and aspects of this great wonder of nature are susceptible
of almost infinite change by the change of position: and there it is,
the same great work of God for ever and for ever, in constant life
and motion. There is no curtain to hide the exhibition--there is no
machinery in it, the wires of which are subject to human control. Its
fountains are never dried, its torrents are never, like other floods,
increased or diminished. There it is, the same for ever and for ever.
Notwithstanding a world of waters have fallen this hour, a world of
waters shall fall the next hour. To-morrow shall be as this day, and a
century to come as a century past. The lover of nature’s magnificence
and nature’s beauties may wander there without fear of satiety--with
ever growing and yet a keener appetite. He may choose his bed on the
brow of the chasm, and near the fearful plunge, so that the walls of
his habitation, and the couch on which he reposes, shall sympathise
with the ceaseless vibrations of the earth and rocks, and himself
literally be rocked to sleep by the hand and music of the mighty
waters. In his half-waking moments he shall know, because he will
feel, that he is there. In the visions of his deepest slumbers, still
shaken by the concussions of all nature around, he shall be admonished,
that he is there. Of that which he saw by day he shall dream by
night--and he shall see it even then in forms of as much greater
magnificence, and of as much more attractive beauties, or dressed in
a wildness as much more amazing, as dreams are more remarkable, than
the sober thoughts of a wakeful hour. He may rise in the morning, and
visit the scene with ever fresh delight; and at noon, and when the sun
declines, and by the light of the moon, or under the stars alone, or
when the tempest scowls at midnight hour, and mingles its thunders with
the thunders of the abyss in rival effort, and lays the broad sheets
of its fire on the foam of the waters: and he will never say--it is
enough.