FRANCIS PARKMAN
1823-1893
At twelve o'clock on a summer night, nearly a half century ago, a
young man of twenty-three stood in the shadow of a great Indian camp
watching intently the scene before him. On the farther side of the
camp a number of Indians were gathered about the fire, which threw
into relief their strong, handsome frames, for they were all young
and formed, as they stood there, the hope and ambition of their tribe.
Suddenly a loud chant broke the silence of the night, and at the same
time the young braves began circling around the fire in a grotesque,
irregular kind of dance. The chant was now interrupted by bursts of
sharp yells, and the motions of the dancers, now leaping, now running,
again creeping slyly, suggested the movements of some stealthy animal;
this was, in fact, what was intended, for the young warriors were
the "Strong Hearts" of the Dacotahs, an association composed of the
bravest youths of the tribe, whose _totem_ or tutelary spirit was the
fox, in whose honor they were now celebrating one of their dances.
The stranger, who stood looking on at a little distance away, since
the superstitions of the tribe would not allow him to approach too
near the scene of the solemnities, was Francis Parkman, a Harvard
graduate, who had left civilization for the purpose of studying the
savage form of Indian life face to face.
Parkman was born in Boston in 1823. He was noted as a child who threw
himself body and soul into whatever happened to be the pursuit of the
hour, and thus illustrated even in childhood the most striking feature
of his character. During a residence in the country from his eighth to
his twelfth year he was seized with a passion for natural history,
and bent all his energies to collecting eggs, insects, reptiles, and
birds, and to trapping squirrels and woodchucks, practising in the
meantime shooting in Indian fashion with bow and arrow. At twelve he
forsook natural history and found chemistry the only interest in life.
For four years longer he now secluded himself largely from family
life and youthful companions, while he experimented in his amateur
laboratory. Acids, gases, specific gravity, and chemical equations
were the only delight of his life, and he pursued his experiments with
all the ardor of the old seekers of the philosopher's stone. But at
sixteen the charms of chemistry faded, and he became again a haunter
of the woods, but was saved in the end from becoming a naturalist
by an equally strong passion for history, a passion so real that at
eighteen he had chosen his life-work, that of historian of the
French in the New World. With the idea of his work had also come the
conception of its magnitude, and he calmly looked forward to twenty
years of hard and exacting labor before realizing his hopes. Still,
mastered by the spirit of thoroughness, he spent all his vacations in
Canada, following in the footsteps of the early French settlers. Here
in the forest, he slept on the earth with no covering but a blanket,
exhausted his guides with long marches, and exposed his health by
stopping neither for heat nor rain. Fascinated by the visions of
forest life and with the pictures which the old stories called up,
Parkman entered upon the literary preparation for his work with zeal.
Indian history and ethnology were included in his college course,
while he spent many hours that should have been devoted to rest in
studying the great English masters of style. He was graduated at
twenty-one, and after a short trip to Europe started for the Western
plains to begin his historical studies from nature.
For months he and a college friend had followed the wanderings of a
portion of the Dacotahs in their journey across the Western prairies
to the Platte River, where they were to be joined by thousands of
others of their tribe, and take part in the extermination of the Snake
Indians, their bitter enemies. They had suffered from the heat and
the dust of the desert; they had hunted buffalo among the hills and
ravines of the Platte border, and had slept night after night in
open camps while wolves and panthers crawled dangerously near. To all
intents and purposes their life was that of the Indian of the plains,
an alien to civilization, a hunter of buffalo, and an enemy to all
human beings except those of his own nation.
It was in the year 1846, three years before the discovery of gold in
California, and the great West was still a land of forests, and the
home of wandering tribes of Indians. From the Mississippi to the
Pacific coast the country was entirely unsettled, with the exception
of a few military forts and trading-posts. Here the Indian lived as
his race had lived from time immemorial. Dressed in his robe of skins,
with his gay moccasins on his feet, his dog-skin quiver at his back,
and his powerful bow slung across his shoulder, the Dacotah of that
day was a good specimen of a race that has almost disappeared. The
only two objects in life were war and the hunt, and he was ready at a
moment's notice to strike his tent and engage in either.
Six or eight times during the year the Great Spirit was called upon,
fasts were made, and war parades celebrated preliminary to attacks
upon other tribes, while during the remainder of the time he hunted
the buffalo which supplied him with every necessity of life. The
coverings for their tents, their clothing, beds, ropes, coverings for
their saddles, canoes, water-jars, food, and fuel, were all obtained
from this animal, which also served as a means of trading with the
posts. The Indians had obtained rifles from the whites in a few
cases, but they still largely used the bow and arrow, with which their
predecessors on the plains had hunted the mammoth and mastodon in
prehistoric ages. Their arrows were tipped with flint and stone, and
their stone hammers were like those used by the savages of the Danube
and Rhine when Europe was still uncivilized.
While civilization had laid a chain of cities and towns around the
borders of the continent, the American Indian of the interior remained
exactly as his forefathers had been. And it was to study this curious
specimen of humanity, whose like had faded from almost every other
part of the world, that Parkman had come among them. He wished to
reveal the Indian in his true character, and he thought he could only
do this by living the Indian life. And so, for six months, he shared
their lodges, their feasts, hunts, and expeditions of war. He became
acquainted with their beliefs in the Great Spirit, the father of the
universe, and in the lesser spirits which controlled the winds and
rain, and which were found inhabiting the bodies of the lower animals.
He learned to know the curious character of their "medicine-men" and
their witch-doctors, and all their strange superstitions regarding the
mysteries of life and death and the origin of man.
Suffering constantly from physical ills, and in danger of death at
any moment from the treachery of the red men, Parkman yet was able to
maintain his position among them with dignity, and to be acknowledged
worthy of their hospitality, and he took advantage of this to make his
study of them thorough. The Dacotahs were a branch of the Sioux, one
of the fiercest of the tribes of the plains. In his journey with them
Parkman traversed the regions of the Platte, which was one of the best
known routes to Oregon and California. Frequent parties of emigrants
passed them on their way to new homes, and those, with the traders'
posts and occasional bands of hunters, gave them their only glimpses
of white faces. Reaching the upper waters of the Platte, they branched
off for a hunting trip to the Black Hills, and then returning, made
the passage of the Rocky Mountains, gained the head-waters of the
Arkansas, and so returned to the settlements.
It was a trip full of danger and adventure, but Parkman had gained
what he wanted--a picture of Indian life still preserved in the
solitudes of the plains and mountains as inviolate as the rivers
and rocks themselves. A few years later the discovery of gold in
California changed this condition almost as if by magic. The plains
and mountains became alive with unnumbered hosts of emigrants on their
way to the gold fields. Cities and towns sprung up where before Indian
lodges and buffalo herds had held sway. Year by year the Indians
changed in character and habits, adopting in some measure the dress of
the whites and their manner of living. The true Indian of the plains
passed out of history, and but for Parkman's visit, even the memory
of him as an example of the picturesque freedom of savage life, might
have been lost.
A year after his return to the east Parkman published an account of
his adventures in the _Knickerbocker Magazine_, under the title _The
Oregon Trail_, the name by which the old route was generally known.
Later on these sketches appeared in book form. They formed Parkman's
first book and indicated the scheme of his life-work.
Parkman had elaborated his first idea, and now intended writing an
account of the history of the French influence in America from the
earliest visits of Verazzani and Jacques Cartier, down to the time
when the English drove out the French from Canada and the Mississippi
Valley, and laid the foundations of what was destined to be the
American Republic.
His second book, _The Conspiracy of Pontiac_, published five years
after his adventures among the Sioux, deals with the last act of the
struggle between France and England. This book appeared thus early
in the series because at that time, on account of ill-health, Parkman
could not begin any work of vast magnitude such as would require
exhaustive research.
The conspiracy of Pontiac, a chief of the Ottawas, who formed a
confederation of the tribes to drive the English from the forts near
the Great Lakes, was a theme complete in itself, and yet one that
could easily supplement any series dealing with similar subjects.
Parkman visited the scene of Pontiac's exploits, talked with the
descendants of the tribes which still lingered around the Great Lakes,
which then formed the outposts of the English, and stored his mind
with such local traditions and color as would give character to the
narrative. The book was written through the aid of readers and an
amanuensis, whose task it was to gather the notes, which Parkman
sifted until ready for dictation. It dealt with one of the most
picturesque episodes of the French and Indian War, and the character
of Pontiac--brave, patriotic, and ready for any fate--was drawn with a
master-touch.
Fourteen years passed by before Parkman presented another volume of
the series which he intended should illustrate the complete history of
the French in America. This volume was called the _Pioneers of France
in the New World_, and opens the theme with a description of the
early voyagers, thus making it in point of place the first book of the
series.
His books, which appeared at different times after the _Pioneers
of France_, under the titles _The Jesuits of North America_; _The
Discovery of the Great West_; _The Old Regime in Canada_; _A Half
Century of Conflict_; and _Montcalm and Wolfe_, indicate each in turn
the character of its scope.
They tell the history of the French race in America for over two
hundred years, beginning with the old voyagers who sought in America
a region of romance and mystery which should rival the fairy realms of
the poets of the Middle Ages, and ending with the last efforts of the
Indians to recover their land from the grasp of the hated English.
Through all this period the Indians had regarded the French as
friends. Jesuit missionaries had penetrated the wilds of the
Mississippi, and had brought to the tribes on its banks the message
of peace and brotherly love. They spread the story of Christ from
Carolina to the St. Lawrence, and from the Mississippi to the
Atlantic. They lived the Indian life, dwelling in lodges, eating the
Indian food, conforming as much as possible to the Indian habits, and
retaining, in their geographical descriptions, the Indian names of the
lakes and rivers, so dear to the savage heart.
They made, in the main, a peaceful conquest of the country, and they
won the natives to such a degree that in the contest with the English
which ensued the Indian remained throughout the firm friend and ally
of the French. The English had thus two enemies to deal with instead
of one, the military knowledge of the French being in every case
strengthened by the subtle and savage modes of Indian warfare. This
state of things kept the final issue doubtful, even though the English
won victory after victory, for the taking of a fort and the slaughter
or capture of the garrison might be followed at any time by a
murderous night attack from the savage allies, who ignored the
civilized methods of war and would never acknowledge defeat.
In this work Parkman not only aimed at the history of the actual
struggle between France and England for the possession of North
America, but he also wished to present clearly the story of the French
alone, as they appeared in their character of settlers and conquerors
of uncivilized lands.
In the vivid pictures with which Parkman tells this story of their
life in the New World, we see a strong contrast to the Spanish
power in South America, as illustrated in the pages of history. The
Spaniards conquered a race already far advanced in civilization,
reduced it to slavery, destroyed its race characteristics, and made
everything else bend to their insatiate love of gold.
Very different was the conduct of the French in their treatment of the
savage tribes that they found inhabiting the primeval forests of North
America. The Jesuit missionaries and the persecuted Huguenots alike
approached the Indian with one message, that of Christian love
and faith in the brotherhood of man. To them the dark child of the
forests, savage in nature, untamed in habit, was still a brother who
must be lifted to a higher life. And to do this they lived among them
as teachers and advisers rather than as conquerors.
In these pages all the heroes of the French occupation appear before
us as in their daily life with the Indians: Marquette, La Salle,
Tonti, Frontenac, Du Gorgues--whose visit of vengeance is so well
described that he is forever remembered by the Indians as an avenger
of their race--and the men of lesser note. We have also a picture of
the Hurons, the Iroquois, and other tribes as they appeared to the
early French settlers; and in fact Parkman has left no phase or detail
of the movement untouched. It was a vast undertaking, and carried out
in the midst of many difficulties, and its completion placed Parkman's
name among the greatest historians of all time.
Parkman suffered from ill-health from his earliest years throughout
his life, and to this was added partial blindness, which made his
literary work as great a task as that of Prescott. Very often he was
interrupted for months and years by illness, and in the main he had
to depend upon the help of others in collecting his material; but his
purpose never faltered, and the end was brilliant with success.