cedars in the world. There was one kind of tree which shed an abundance
of gum, as pleasant to burn as the best French pastilles. We also saw
fine hemlocks and other large trees with white bark. The
cottonwood-trees were very large. Of these the Indians dug out canoes,
forty or fifty feet long. Sometimes there were fleets of a hundred and
fifty at their villages. We saw every kind of tree fit for
ship-building. There is also plenty of hemp for cordage, and tar could
be made in abundance.
"Prairies are seen everywhere. Sometimes they are fifty or sixty miles
in length on the river front and many leagues in depth. They are very
rich and fertile, without a stone or a tree to obstruct the plough.
These prairies are capable of sustaining an immense population. Beans
grow wild, and the stalks last several years, bearing fruit. The
bean-vines are thicker than a man's arm, and run to the top of the
highest trees. Peach-trees are abundant and bear fruit equal to the best
that can be found in France. They are often so loaded in the gardens of
the Indians that they have to prop up the branches. There are whole
forests of mulberries, whose ripened fruit we begin to eat in the month
of May. Plums are found in great variety, many of which are not known in
Europe. Grape-vines and pomegranates are common. Three or four crops of
corn can be raised in a year."
From all this it appears that the good Father was very observant, though
his observation, or the information he obtained from the Indians, was
not always to be trusted. He goes on to speak of the tribes, whose
people and customs he found very different from the Indians of Canada.
"They have large public squares, games, and assemblies. They seem
mirthful and full of vivacity. Their chiefs have absolute authority. No
one would dare to pass between the chief and the cane torch which burns
in his cabin and is carried before him when he goes out. All make a
circuit around it with some ceremony."
_THE FRENCH OF LOUISIANA AND THE NATCHEZ INDIANS._
The story of the American Indian is one of the darkest blots on the page
of the history of civilization. Of the three principal peoples of Europe
who settled the New World,--the Spanish, the British, and the
French,--the Spanish made slaves of them and dealt with them with
shocking cruelty, and the British were, in a different way, as unjust,
and at times little less cruel. As for the French, while they showed
more sympathy with the natives, and treated them in a more friendly and
considerate spirit, their dealings with them were by no means free from
the charge of injustice and cruelty. This we shall seek to show in the
following story.
When we talk of the Indians of the United States we are very apt to get
wrong ideas about them. The word Indian means to us a member of the
savage hunting tribes of the North; a fierce, treacherous, implacable
foe, though he could be loyal and generous as a friend; a being who made
war a trade and cruelty a pastime, and was incapable of civilization.
But this is only one type of the native inhabitants of the land. Those
of the South were very different. Instead of being rude savages, like
their Northern brethren, they had made some approach to civilization;
instead of being roving hunters, they were settled agriculturists;
instead of being morose and taciturn, they were genial and
light-hearted; and instead of possessing only crude forms of government
and religion, they were equal in both these respects to some peoples who
are classed as civilized.
If any feel a doubt of this, let them read what La Salle and the
intelligent priest who went with him had to say about the Indians of the
lower Mississippi, their government, agriculture, and friendliness of
disposition, and their genial and sociable manner. It is one of the
tribes of Southern Indians with which we are here concerned, the Natchez
tribe or nation, with whom La Salle had such pleasing relations.
It may be of interest to our readers to be told something more about the
customs of the Southern Indians, since they differed very greatly from
those of the North, and are little known to most readers. Let us take
the Creeks, for instance,--a powerful association made up of many tribes
of the Gulf region. They had their chiefs and their governing council,
like the Northern Indians, but the Mico, who took the place of the
Sachem of the North, had almost absolute power, and the office was
hereditary in his family. Agriculture was their principal industry, the
fields being carefully cultivated, though they were active hunters also.
The land was the property of the tribe, not of individuals, and each
family who cultivated it had to deposit a part of their products in the
public store-house. This was under the full control of the Mico, though
food was distributed to all in times of need.
Their religion was much more advanced than that of the Northern tribes.
They had the medicine man and the notions about spirits of the North,
but they also worshipped the sun as the great deity of the universe, and
had their temples, and priests, and religious ceremonies. One of their
great objects of care was the sacred fire, which was carefully
extinguished at the close of the year, and rekindled with "new fire" for
the coming year. While it was out serious calamities were feared and the
people were in a state of terror. There was nothing like this in the
North.
The most remarkable of the United States Indians were the Natchez, of
whom we have above spoken. Not only La Salle, but later French writers
have told us about them. They had a different language and were
different in other ways from the neighboring Indians. They worshipped
the sun as their great deity, and had a complete system of temples,
priests, idols, religious festivals, sacred objects and the like, the
people being deeply superstitious. Their temples were built on great
mounds, and in them the sacred fire was very carefully guarded by the
priests. If it should go out fearful misfortunes were expected to ensue.
Their ruler was high priest as well as monarch. He was called the Sun
and was believed to be a direct descendant of the great deity. He was a
complete autocrat, with the power of life and death over the people, and
his nearest female relative, who was known as the woman chief, had the
same power. On his death there were many human sacrifices, though it was
not his son, but that of the woman chief, who succeeded to the throne.
Not only the ruler, but all the members of the royal caste, were called
Suns, and had special privileges. Under them there was a nobility, also
with its powers and privileges, but the common people had very few
rights. On the temple of the sun were the figures of three eagles, with
their heads turned to the east. It may be seen that this people was a
very interesting one, far advanced in culture beyond the rude tribes of
the North, and it is a great pity that they were utterly destroyed and
their institutions swept away before they were studied by the scientists
of the land. Their destruction was due to French injustice, and this is
how it came about.
Louisiana was not settled by the French until about twenty years after
La Salle's great journey, and New Orleans was not founded till 1718.
The French gradually spread their authority over the country, bringing
the Mississippi tribes under their influence. Among these were the
Natchez, situated up the river in a locality indicated by the present
city of Natchez. The trouble with them came about in 1729, through the
unjust behavior of a French officer named Chopart. He had been once
removed for injustice, but a new governor, M. Perier, had replaced him,
not knowing his character.
Chopart, on his return to the Natchez country, was full of great views,
in which the rights of the old owners of the land did not count. He was
going to make his province a grand and important one, and in the
presence of his ambition the old inhabitants must bend the knee. He
wanted a large space for his projected settlement, and on looking about
could find no spot that suited him but that which was occupied by the
Indian village of the White Apple. That the natives might object to this
appropriation of their land did not seem to trouble his lordly soul.
He sent to the Sun of the village, bidding him to come to the fort,
which was about six miles away. When the chief arrived there, Chopart
told him, bluntly enough, that he had decided to build a settlement on
the site of the White Apple village, and that he must clear away the
huts and build somewhere else. His only excuse was that it was necessary
for the French to settle on the banks of the rivulet on whose waters
stood the Grand Tillage and the abode of the Grand Sun.
The Sun of the Apple was taken aback by this arbitrary demand. He
replied with dignity that his ancestors had dwelt in that village for as
many years as there were hairs in his head, and that it was good that he
and his people should continue there. This reasonable answer threw
Chopart into a passion, and he violently told the Sun that he must quit
his village in a few days or he should repent it.
"When your people came to ask us for lands to settle on," said the
Indian in reply, "you told us that there was plenty of unoccupied land
which you would be willing to take. The same sun, you said, would shine
on us all and we would all walk in the same path."
Before he could proceed, Chopart violently interrupted him, saying that
he wanted to hear no more, he only wanted to be obeyed. At this the
insulted chief withdrew, saying, with the same quiet dignity as before,
that he would call together the old men of the village and hold a
council on the affair.
The Indians, finding the French official so violent and arbitrary, at
first sought to obtain delay, saying that the corn was just above the
ground and the chickens were laying their eggs. The commandant replied
that this did not matter to him, they must obey his order or they should
suffer for their obstinacy. They next tried the effect of a bribe,
offering to pay him a basket of corn and a fowl for each hut in the
village if he would wait till the harvest was gathered. Chopart proved
to be as avaricious as he was arbitrary, and agreed to accept this
offer.
He did not know the people he was dealing with. Stung with the injustice
of the demand, and deeply incensed by the insolence of the commandant,
the village council secretly resolved that they would not be slaves to
these base intruders, but would cut them off to a man. The oldest chief
suggested the following plan. On the day fixed they should go to the
fort with some corn, and carrying their arms as if going out to hunt.
There should be two or three Natchez for every Frenchman, and they
should borrow arms and ammunition for a hunting match to be made on
account of a grand feast, promising to bring back meat in payment. The
arms once obtained, the discharge of a gun would be the signal for them
to fall on the unsuspecting French and kill them all.
He further suggested that all the other villages should be apprised of
the project and asked to assist. A bundle of rods was to be sent to each
village, the rods indicating the number of days preceding that fixed for
the assault. That no mistake might be made, a prudent person in each
village should be appointed to draw out a rod on each day and throw it
away. This was their way of counting time.
The scheme was accepted by the council, the Sun warmly approving of it.
When it was made known to the chiefs of the nation, they all joined in
approval, including the Grand Sun, their chief ruler, and his uncle, the
Stung Serpent. It was kept secret, however, from the people at large,
and from all the women of the noble and royal castes, not excepting the
woman chief.
This it was not easy to do. Secret meetings were being held, and the
object of these the female Suns had a right to demand. The woman chief
at that time was a young princess, scarce eighteen, and little inclined
to trouble herself with political affairs; but the Strong Arm, the
mother of the Grand Sun, was an able and experienced woman, and one
friendly to the French. Her son, strongly importuned by her, told her of
the scheme, and also of the purpose of the bundle of rods that lay in
the temple.
Strong Arm was politic enough to appear to approve the project, but
secretly she was anxious to save the French. The time was growing short,
and she sought to have the commandant warned by hints of danger. These
were brought him by soldiers, but in his supercilious self-conceit he
paid no heed to them, but went on blindly towards destruction. He went
so far as to put in irons seven of those who warned him of the peril,
accusing them of cowardice. Finding this effort unavailing, the Strong
Arm secretly pulled some rods out of the fatal bundle, hoping in this
way to disarrange the project of the conspirators.
Heedless of all that had been told him, Chopart and some other Frenchmen
went on the night before the fatal day to the great village of the
Natchez, on a party of pleasure, not returning till break of day, and
then the worse for his potations. In the mean time the secret had grown
more open, and on his entering the fort he was strongly advised to be on
his guard.
The drink he had taken made a complete fool of him, however, and he at
once sent to the village from which he had just returned, bidding his
interpreter to ask the Grand Sun whether he intended to come with his
warriors and kill the French. The Grand Sun, as might have been
expected, sent word back that he did not dream of such a thing, and he
would be very sorry, indeed, to do any harm to his good friends, the
French. This answer fully satisfied the commandant, and he went to his
house, near the fort, disdaining the advice of the informers.
It was on the eve of St. Andrew's Day, in 1729, that a party of the
Natchez approached the French settlement. It was some days in advance of
that fixed, on account of the meddling with the rods. They brought with
them one of the common people, armed with a wooden hatchet, to kill the
commandant, the warriors having too much contempt for him to be willing
to lay hands on him. The natives strayed in friendly fashion into the
houses, and many made their way through the open gates into the fort,
where they found the soldiers unsuspicious of danger and without an
officer, or even a sergeant, at their head.
Soon the Grand Sun appeared, with a number of warriors laden with corn,
as if to pay the first installment of the contribution. Their entrance
was quickly followed by several shots. This being the signal agreed
upon, in an instant the natives made a murderous assault on the unarmed
French, cutting them down in their houses and shooting them on every
side. The commandant, for the first time aware of his blind folly, ran
in terror into the garden of his house, but he was sharply pursued and
cut down. The massacre was so well devised and went on so
simultaneously in all directions that very few of the seven hundred
Frenchmen in the settlement escaped, a handful of the fugitives alone
bringing the news of the bloody affair to New Orleans. The Natchez
completed their vengeance by setting on fire and burning all the
buildings, so that of the late flourishing settlement only a few ruined
walls remained.
As may be seen, this massacre was due to the injustice, and to the
subsequent incompetence, of one man, Chopart, the commandant. It led to
lamentable consequences, in the utter destruction of the Natchez nation
and the loss of one of the most interesting native communities in
America.
No sooner, in fact, had the news of the massacre reached New Orleans
than active steps were taken for revenge. A force, largely made up of
Choctaw allies, assailed the fort of the Natchez. The latter asked for
peace, promising to release the French women and children they held as
prisoners. This was agreed to, and the Indians took advantage of it to
vacate the fort by stealth, under cover of night, taking with them all
their baggage and plunder. They took refuge in a secret place to the
west of the Mississippi, which the French had much difficulty to
discover.
The place found, a strong force was sent against the Indians, its route
being up the Red River, then up the Black River, and finally up Silver
Creek, which flows from a small lake, near which the Natchez had built a
fort for defence against the French. This place they maintained with
some resolution, but when the French batteries were placed and bombs
began to fall in the fort, dealing death to women and children as well
as men, the warriors, horrified at these frightful instruments of death,
made signals of their readiness to capitulate.
Night fell before terms were decided upon, and the Indians asked that
the settlement should be left till the next day. Their purpose was to
attempt to escape, as they had done before during the night, but they
were too closely watched to make this effective. Some of them succeeded
in getting away, but the great body were driven back into the fort, and
the next day were obliged to surrender at discretion. Among them were
the Grand Sun and the women Suns, with many warriors, women, and
children.
The end of the story of the Natchez is the only instance on record of
the deliberate annihilation of an Indian tribe. Some have perished
through the event of war, no other through fixed intention. All the
captives were carried to New Orleans, where they were used as slaves,
not excepting the Strong Arm, who had made such efforts to save the
French. These slaves were afterward sent to St. Domingo to prevent their
escape, and in order that the Natchez nation might be utterly rooted
out.
Those of the warriors who had escaped from the fort, and others who were
out hunting, were still at large, but there were few women among them,
and the nation was lost past renewal. These fugitives made their way to
the villages of the Chickasaws, and were finally absorbed in that
nation, "and thus," says Du Pratz, the historian of this affair, "that
nation, the most conspicuous in the colony, and most useful to the
French, was destroyed."
Du Pratz was a resident of New Orleans at the time, and got his
information from the parties directly concerned. He tells us that among
the women slaves "was the female Sun called the Strong Arm, who then
told me all she had done in order to save the French." It appears that
all she had done was not enough to save herself.
_THE KNIGHTS OF THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE._
On a fine day in the pleasant month of August of the year 1714 a large
party of horsemen rode along Duke of Gloucester Street, in the city of
Williamsburg, Virginia, while the men, women, and children of the place
flocked to the doors of the houses cheering and waving their
handkerchiefs as the gallant cavaliers passed by. They were gayly
dressed, in the showy costumes worn by the gentlemen of that time, and
at their head was a handsome and vigorous man, with the erect bearing
and manly attitude of one who had served in the wars. They were all
mounted on spirited horses and carried their guns on their saddles,
prepared to hunt or perhaps to defend themselves if attacked. Behind
them followed a string of mules, carrying the packs of the horsemen and
in charge of mounted servants.
Thus equipped, the showy cavalcade passed through the main streets of
the small town, which had succeeded Jamestown as the Virginian capital,
and rode away over the westward-leading road. On they went, mile after
mile, others joining them, as they passed onward, the party steadily
increasing in numbers until it reached a place called Germanna, on the
Rapid Ann--now the Rapidan--River, on the edge of the Spotsylvania
Wilderness.
No doubt you will wish to know who these men were and what was the
object of their journey. It was a romantic one, as you will learn,--a
journey of adventure into the unknown wilderness. At that time Virginia
had been settled more than a hundred years, yet its people knew very
little about it beyond the seaboard plain. West of this rose the Blue
Ridge Mountains, behind which lay a great mysterious land, almost as
unknown as the mountains of the moon. There were people as late as that
who thought that the Mississippi River rose in these mountains.
The Virginians had given this land of mystery a name. They called it
Orange County. There were rumors that it was filled with great forests
and lofty mountains, that it held fertile valleys watered by beautiful
rivers, that it was a realm of strange and wonderful scenes. The
Indians, who had been driven from the east, were still numerous there,
and wild animals peopled the forests plentifully, but few of the whites
had ventured within its confines. Now and then a daring hunter had
crossed the Blue Ridge into this country and brought back surprising
tales of what was to be seen there, but nothing that could be trusted
was known about the land beyond the hills.
All this was of great interest to Alexander Spotswood, who was then
governor of Virginia. He was a man whose life had been one of adventure
and who had distinguished himself as a soldier at the famous battle of
Blenheim, and he was still young and fond of adventure when the king
chose him to be governor of the oldest American colony.
We do not propose to tell the whole story of Governor Spotswood; but as
he was a very active and enterprising man, some of the things he did may
be of interest. He had an oddly shaped powder-magazine built at
Williamsburg, which still stands in that old town, and he opened the
college of William and Mary free to the sons of the few Indians who
remained in the settled part of Virginia. Then he built iron-furnaces
and began to smelt iron for the use of the people. Those were the first
iron-furnaces in the colonies, and the people called him the "Tubal Cain
of Virginia," after a famous worker in iron mentioned in the Bible. His
furnaces were at the settlement of Germanna, where the expedition made
its first stop. This name came from a colony of Germans whom he had
brought there to work his iron-mines and forges.
After what has been told it may not be difficult to guess the purpose of
the expedition. Governor Spotswood was practical enough to wish to
explore the mysterious land beyond the blue-peaked hills, and romantic
enough to desire to do this himself, instead of sending out a party of
pioneers. So he sent word to the planters that he proposed to make a
holiday excursion over the mountains, and would gladly welcome any of
them who wished to join.
We may be sure that there were plenty, especially among the younger
men, who were glad to accept his invitation, and on the appointed day
many of them came riding in, with their servants and pack-mules, well
laden with provisions and stores, for they looked on the excursion as a
picnic on a large scale.
One thing they had forgotten--a very necessary one. At that time iron
was scarce and costly in Virginia, and as the roads were soft and sandy,
as they still are in the seaboard country, it was the custom to ride
horses _barefooted_, there being no need for iron shoes. But now they
were about to ride up rocky mountain-paths and over the stony summits,
and it was suddenly discovered that their horses must be shod. So all
the smiths available were put actively at work making horseshoes and
nailing them on the horses' feet. It was this incident that gave rise to
the name of the "Knights of the Golden Horseshoe," as will appear
farther on.
At Germanna Governor Spotswood had a summer residence, to which he
retired when the weather grew sultry in the lower country. Colonel
William Byrd, a planter on the James River, has told us all about this
summer house of the governor. One of his stories is, that when he
visited there a tame deer, frightened at seeing him, leaped against a
large mirror in the drawing-room, thinking that it was a window, and
smashed it into splinters. It is not likely the governor thanked his
visitor for that.
After leaving Germanna the explorers soon entered a region quite unknown
to them. They were in high spirits, for everything about them was new
and delightful. The woods were in their full August foliage, the streams
gurgling, the birds warbling, beautiful views on every hand, and the
charm of nature's domain on all sides. At mid-day they would stop in
some green forest glade to rest and pasture their horses, and enjoy the
contents of their packs with a keen appetite given by the fresh forest
air.