can, of itself, give ground for hope to the Christian philanthropist,
let him cherish it fondly. But it is much to be feared, that the
existence of such a system indefinitely postpones, if it does not
entirely preclude, the Indian's conversion. Even a bird which has never
known the forest, will eventually escape to the wilds which God has made
its home; and the young Indian, who has been reared in the city, will
fly to the woods and prairies, and return to the faith of his fathers,
because these, and only these, will satisfy his nature.[34]
A theme of praise, in itself more just, has been the Indian's courage;
but the same circumstances of poetical interest, which have magnified
men's views of his other qualities, have contributed to exaggerate this
also. If calm steadiness of nerve, in the moment of action, be an
element in true courage, that of the primitive savage was scarcely
genuine. In all his battles, there were but two possible aspects--the
furious onset, and the panic retreat: the firmness which plants itself
in line or square, and stubbornly contends for victory, was no part of
his character. A check, to him, always resulted in a defeat; and, though
this might, in some measure, be the consequence of that want of
discipline, which is incident to the savage state, the remark applies
with equal justice, whether he fought singly or in a body. He was easily
panic-struck, because the impulse of the forward movement was necessary
to keep him strung to effort; and the retrograde immediately became a
rout, because daring, without constancy, collapses with the first
reaction.
Notwithstanding the enervating influences attributed to refinement and
luxury, genuine, steady courage is one of the fruits borne by a high
civilization. It is the result of combination, thought, and the divinity
which attaches to the cultivated man. And, though it may seem rather
unfair to judge a savage by the rules of civilization, it has long been
received as a canon, that true valor bears an inverse ratio to
ferocious cruelty. Of all people yet discovered upon earth, the Indian
is the most ferocious. We must, therefore, either vary the meaning of
the word, when applied to different people, or deny the savage the
possession of any higher bravery, than that which lives only through the
onset.
Cunning supplied the place of the nobler quality; the object of his
warfare was to overcome by wily stratagem, rather than by open combat.
"Skill consisted in surprising the enemy. They followed his trail, to
kill him when he slept; or they lay in ambush near a village, and
watched for an opportunity of suddenly surprising an individual, or, it
might be, a woman and her children; and, with three strokes to each, the
scalps of the victims being suddenly taken off, the brave flew back with
his companions, to hang the trophies in his cabin."[35] If they
succeeded in taking prisoners, it was only that they might be reserved
for the most infernal torments, and the gratification of a brutal
ferocity, not the trial and admiration of the victim's courage, was the
purpose of their infliction.[36]
The fortitude of the Indian under suffering, has often been referred to,
in evidence of moral courage. And it is certainly true, that the display
so frequently made of triumph in the hour of death by torture,
indicates,[37] in part, an elevation of character, seldom found among
more civilized men. It is, however, the elevation of a barbarian; and
its manifestations are as much the fruit of impotent rage, as of a noble
fortitude. The prisoner at the stake knows that there is no escape; and
his intense hatred of his enemies takes the form of a wish, to deprive
them of a triumph. While his flesh is crisping and crackling in the
flames, therefore, he sings of the scalps he has taken, and heaps
opprobrious epithets upon the heads of his tormentors. But his song is
as much a cry of agony, as of exultation--his pain only adopts this mode
of expression. It is quite certain, also, that he does not suffer so
deeply, as would a white man in the same circumstances. By long
exposure, and the endurance of hardships incident to his savage life,
his body acquires an insensibility akin to that of wild animals.[38] His
nerves do not shrink or betray a tendency to spasm, even when a limb is
amputated. Transmitted from one generation to another, this physical
nature has become a peculiarity of the race. And when assisted by the
fierce hatred above referred to, it is not at all strange that it should
enable him to bear with fortitude, tortures which would conquer the
firmness of the most resolute white man.[39]
The Indian's dignified stoicism has been as much exaggerated, as his
courage and fortitude. It is not quite true that he never expresses
surprise, or becomes loquacious. But he has a certain stern
impassibility of feature--a coldness of manner--which have been mistaken
for dignity. His immobility of countenance, however, may be the effect
of sluggish sensibilities, or even of dull perceptions;[40] and the
same savage vanity, which leads him to make a display of strength or
agility before friend or enemy, prevents his acknowledging ignorance, by
betraying surprise.[41] We have been in company with Indians from the
Far West, while they saw a railroad for the first time. When they
thought themselves unnoticed, they were as curious about the singular
machinery of the locomotive, and as much excited by the decorations and
appointments of the cars, as the most ignorant white man. But the moment
they discovered that their movements were observed, they resumed their
dignified composure; and, if you had judged of the Indian country by
their subsequent deportment, you might have believed that the vast
prairies of the Missouri were everywhere intersected by railroads--that
the Indian had, in fact, never known any other mode of travelling. "On
first seeing a steamboat, however," says Flint, who well understands his
character, "he never represses his customary '_Ugh_!'"
Generally, among white men, he who is fondest of inflicting pain, is
least able to endure it. But the Indian reverses almost all the
principles, which apply to civilized life; and, accordingly, we find
that, with all his so-called fortitude, he is the most intensely cruel
of all living men. Before possession of the continent was taken by
Europeans, war was more constantly the occupation of his life, than it
has been since; but even now his only object in taking his enemies
alive, is to subject them to the most inhuman tortures.[42] And in these
brutal orgies, the women are most active, even taking the lead, in
applying the cord and the brand.[43] Nor is this cruelty confined to
enemies, as the practice of leaving the aged and infirm to die of
starvation sufficiently proves.
And his treachery is equal to his cruelty. No treaty can bind him longer
than superior force compels him to observe it. The discovery that his
enemy is unprepared for an attack, is sufficient reason to him for
making it; his only object in concluding peace, is to secure an
advantage in war; and before the prospect of a bloody inroad, his faith
melts away, like snow before the sun. The claims of gratitude he seldom
acknowledges; he cherishes the memory of a benefit, only until he finds
an opportunity of repaying it with an injury; and forbearance to avenge
the latter, only encourages its repetition.[44] The numerous pretty
stories published of Indian gratitude, are either exceptional cases, or
unmixed romances.
There have been some tribes of Indians in a measure reclaimed from their
state of barbarism; the Cherokees, I believe, (and perhaps one or two
other nations,) have even increased in numbers, under the influence of
civilization. But this is the result of numerous favorable causes
combined, and proves nothing, from which to infer the Indian's docility.
Other savages, on coming in contact with civilized men, have discovered
a disposition to acquire some of the useful arts--their comforts have
been increased, their sufferings diminished, and their condition
ameliorated, by the grafting of new ideas upon the old. But, between
the red man and the white, contiguity has brought about little more than
an exchange of vices.
Almost the only things coveted by the "redskin" from the "paleface,"
were his arms, his trinkets, and his "firewater." He could appreciate
whatsoever gave him superiority in war, gratified his childish vanity,
or ministered to his brutal appetite. But the greater comfort of the
white man's house--the higher excellence of his boat--his improved
agricultural implements or extended learning--none of these things
appealed to the Indian's passions or desires. The arts of peace were
nothing to him--refinement was worse than nothing. He would spend hours
in _decorating_ his person, but not a moment in _cleansing_ it: I
believe no tradition exists of an Indian ever having used soap or bought
a fine-tooth comb! He is, indeed, a "pattern of filthiness;" but even in
civilized life, we find that this is not at all incompatible with an
extravagant love of ornament; and, in this respect, the savage is not
behind his more enlightened brethren and sisters. Beads, ribands, and
scarlet cloth--with powder and lead, guns, tomahawks, and knives--are
the acquisitions which he prizes most highly.
Pre-eminent, however, above all these in his estimation, is the greatest
curse which has yet reached him--the liquid fire called whiskey! He is,
by nature, a drunkard, and the fury of his intoxication equals the
ferocity of his warfare. "All words would be thrown away," says Mr.
Flint,[45] "in attempting to portray, in just colors, the effects of
whiskey upon such a race." Fire should be kept away from
combustibles--whiskey from the Indian, and for the same reason. With
drunkenness, he possesses, also, its inseparable companion, the vice of
gambling.[46] He is the most inveterate gamester: Before the demon of
avarice everything gives way. He even forgets his taciturnity, in the
excitement of the game, and becomes loquacious and eager. He will stake
all his most valuable possessions, and, losing these, will even risk his
own liberty, or life, on the turn of a card. We were once witness to a
game in San Antonio (in Western Texas), among a party of Lipans,[47] a
race of fine-looking men, who range the table-lands north of the
sources of the Nueces. Two of them, one the handsomest warrior among
them, lost, first, the money, which they had just received as the price
of skins, brought to the city for sale. They then staked, successively,
their horses, their arms, their moccasins, and their blankets. The
"luck" was against them--everything was lost; and we supposed the game
was over. But--as a last resource, like drawing blood from their beating
hearts--each produced a _little leathern bottle_, containing whiskey!
And, as if these possessed a higher value than all the articles yet
lost, the game went on with increased interest! Even the potent "spirit"
thus evoked, could not prevail upon Fortune to change her face: the
whiskey was lost with the rest! Each rose to his feet, with the usual
guttural exclamation, and, afoot, and unarmed as he was, silently took
his way to the prairies; while the winners collected in a group, and
with much glee, proceeded to consume the liquid poison so cheaply
obtained.
We come, finally to the question of the Indian's fate: What is to become
of the race? The answer presents no difficulties, save such as grow out
of men's unwillingness to look unpleasant truths in the face. There has
been, of late years, much lamentation, among our own people, over the
gradual extinction of these interesting savages; and in Europe we have
been made the subject of indignant eloquence, for (what those, who know
nothing about it, are pleased to call) "our oppression of the Indian."
But, in the first place, the decay of the American races is neither so
rapid nor so universal, as is generally supposed;[48] and, in the second
place, if the fact were otherwise, we could, at the worst, be charged
only with accelerating a depopulation already begun. "The ten thousand
mounds in the Mississippi Valley, the rude memorials of an immensely
numerous former population, but, to our view, no more civilized than the
present races, are proofs that the country _was depopulated_, when the
white man first became acquainted with it. If we can infer nothing else
from these mounds, we can clearly infer, that this country once had its
millions."[49] What had become of this immense population? The
successive invasions of new hordes of barbarians from the north,
intestine wars, and the law, that men shall advance toward civilization,
or decay from the earth--these are the only causes to which we may
ascribe their disappearance.
The extinction of the Indian race is decreed, by a law of Providence
which we can not gainsay. Barbarism _must_ give way to civilization. It
is not only inevitable, but _right_, that it should be so. The tide of
empire, which has been flowing since the earliest times, has set
steadily toward the West. The Indian emigrated in the wrong direction:
and now, after the lapse of many centuries, the descendants of the first
Asians, having girdled the globe, meet on the banks of the Mississippi!
On the one side, are enlightenment, civilization, Christianity: on the
other, darkness, degradation, barbarism: and the question arises, which
shall give way? The Indian recedes: at the rate of seventeen miles a
year,[50] the flood rolls on! Already it has reached the shores of the
Pacific: One century will reduce the whole continent to the possession
of the white man; and, then, the lesson which all history teaches, will
be again taught--that two distinct races cannot exist in the same
country on equal terms. The weaker must be incorporated with the
stronger--or exterminated.[51]
FOOTNOTES:
[2] Vol. III., page 394.
[3] There is, however, little necessity for any argument on the subject:
For, leaving out of the question the highest and most sacred of
authorities, almost all respectable writers upon ethnology, including
Buffon, Volney, Humboldt, &c., agree in assigning a common origin to all
nations,--though the last deduces from many particulars, the conclusion
that the American Indian was "isolated in the infancy of the world, from
the rest of mankind."--_Ancient Inhabitants of America_, vol. i., p.
250.
[4] It will be observed, that I assume the _unity_ of the Indian race;
and I am not sufficiently acquainted with the recent discussions on the
subject, to be certain whether the question is still considered open.
But the striking analogies between the customs, physical formation, and
languages of all the various divisions, (except the Esquimaux, who are
excluded), I think, authorize the assumption.
[5] _Conquest of Mexico_, vol. iii., p. 416.
[6] _Conquest of Mexico_, vol. iii., p. 417.
[7] _Essays_--Art. 'Milton.'
[8] _Lectures on English Poets_, p. 4.
[9] No very high compliment, but as high as it deserves. We shall see
anon.
[10] Warburton's _Conquest of Canada_, vol. i., p. 177.
[11] Bancroft's _United States_, vol. iii., p. 256.
[12] Hunter's _Memoirs_, p. 236. _Western Annals_, p. 712.
[13] _Flint's Geography_, p. 108.
[14] "All ideas are expressed by figures addressed to the senses."
_Warburton_, vol. i., p. 175. Bancroft, ut supra.
[15] See Bancroft, Hunter, Catlin, Flint, Jefferson, &c.--passim--all
supporters of Indian eloquence, but all informing us, that "combinations
of material objects were his _only_ means of expressing abstract ideas."
[16] Vide Bancroft's _United States_, vol. iii., pp. 257, 266, etc.
[17] _E. G._ "They style themselves the 'beloved of the Great
Spirit.'"--_Warburton_, vol. i., p. 186. "In the Iroquois language, the
Indians gave themselves the appellation of 'Angoueonoue', or 'Men of
Always.'"--_Chateaubriand's Travels in America_, vol. ii., p. 92. Note,
also, their exaggerated boastfulness, even in their best speeches:
"Logan never knew fear," &c.
[18] "The absence of all reflective consciousness, and of all logical
analysis of ideas, is the great peculiarity of American
speech."--_Bancroft_, vol. iii., p. 257.
[19] Warburton's _Conquest of Canada_, vol. i., p. 180.
[20] I have seen it hinted, though I have forgotten where, that
Jefferson, and not Logan, was the author of this speech; but the
extravagant manner in which Jefferson himself praises it, seems to
exclude the suspicion. "I may challenge the whole orations of
Demosthenes and Cicero," he says, "and of any other more eminent orator,
if Europe has furnished more eminent, to produce a single passage
superior to the speech of Logan!" Praise certainly quite high enough,
for a mixture of lamentation and boastfulness.
[21] The evidence in this matter has long ago been thoroughly sifted;
and it is now certain that, so far from being present aiding at the
massacre of Logan's family, Colonel Cresap earnestly endeavored to
dissuade the party from its purpose. And yet the falsehood is
perpetuated even in the common school-books of the country, while its
object has been mouldering in his grave for a quarter of a
century.--_Western Annals_, p. 147. _American Pioneer_, vol. i., p. 7,
_et seq._
[22] Bancroft, vol. iii., p. 254.
[23] Bancroft, vol. iii., p. 285.--"The God of the savage was what the
metaphysician endeavors to express by the word _substance_." But the
Indian's idea of substance was altogether _concrete_.
[24] The best authority upon this subject is found in the _Jesuit_
"_Relaciones:_" but it is at least probable, that the preconceptions of
the good Fathers colored, and, perhaps, shaped, many of the religious
wonders there related.
[25] "Lettres Edifiantes," vol. vi., p. 200, _et seq._ Warburton, vol.
i., p. 187.
[26] The extravagant stories told of the Natchez Indians (among whom
there was said to be a remarkable temple for worship) are quite
incredible, even if they had not been disproved.
[27] When the _manitou_ of the Indian has failed to give him success in
the chase, or protection from danger, "he upbraids it with bitterness
and contempt, and threatens to seek a more effectual protector. If the
_manitou_ continues useless, this threat is fulfilled." Warb. _ut
supra_. _Vide_, also, Catlin's "American Indians," vol. i., p. 36, _et
seq._
[28] Bancroft, vol. iii., p. 258.
[29] "He calls it [the soul] the shadow or image of his body, but its
acts and enjoyments are all the same as those of its earthly existence.
He only pictures to himself a continuation of present pleasures." Warb.
vol. i., p. 190. _Vide_, also, Catlin's "_American Indians_," vol. i.,
p. 158, _et seq._
[30] The Indian never believed in the resurrection of the body; but even
corn and venison were supposed to possess a spirit, which the spirit of
the dead warrior might eat.--_Jesuit_ "_Relacion_," 1633, p. 54.
[31] "The idea of retribution," says Bancroft, vol. iii., p. 299, "as
far as it has found its way among them, was derived from Europeans." And
the same remark may be made, of most of the other wonders, in which
enthusiastic travellers have discovered coincidences with Christianity.
[32] James's "_Expedition_," vol. i., p. 237.--Catlin's "_American
Indians_," vol. i., pp. 216-'18. The latter is a zealous apologist for
Indian cruelties and barbarisms.
[33] "_Conquest of Canada_," vol. i., pp. 194-'5.
[34] The following may serve to indicate the sort of impression of
Christianity which even the most earnest and enlightened preaching has
been able to make upon the Indian mind: "Here I saw a most singular
union; one of the [Indian] graves was surmounted by a cross, while close
to it a trunk of a tree was raised, covered with hieroglyphics,
recording the number of enemies slain by the tenant of the tomb. Here
presenting a hint to those who are fond of system-making on the religion
of these people," &c.--_Beltrami's Pilgrimage, &c._, vol. ii., p. 307.
Bancroft's _United States_, vol. iii., pp. 303-'4. Flint's _Geography_,
pp. 109, 126.
[35] Bancroft, vol. iii., p. 281.
[36] "To inflict blows that can not be returned," says this historian
(Bancroft, vol. iii., p. 282), "is a proof of full success, and the
entire humiliation of the enemy. It is, moreover, an experiment of
courage and patience." But we think such things as much mere brutality,
as triumph.
[37] The frequent change of tense in this article, refers to those
circumstances in which the _present_ differs from the _past_ character
of the Indian.
[38] "It is to be doubted, whether some part of this vaunted stoicism be
not the result of a more than ordinary degree of physical
insensibility."--_Flint's Geography_, vol. i., p. 114.
[39] Many white men, however, have endured the utmost extremities of
Indian cruelty. See cases of Brebeuf, and Lallemand, in _Bancroft_, vol.
iii., p. 140.
[40] "It is intellectual culture which contributes most to diversify the
features."--_Humboldt's Personal Narrative_, vol. iii., p. 228.
[41] "They have probably as much curiosity [as the white], but a more
stern perseverance in repressing it."--_Flint's Geography_, vol. i., p.
124.
[42] "The enemy is assailed with treachery, and, if conquered, treated
with revolting cruelty." * * "A fiendish ferocity assumes full
sway."--_Conquest of Canada_, vol. i., p. 206.
[43] It is perhaps not very remarkable, however, that the women are most
cruel to the aged and infirm--the young and vigorous being sometimes
adopted by them, to console them for the loss of those who have
fallen.--_Idem_, p. 210.
[44] "We consider them a treacherous people, easily swayed from their
purpose, paying their court to the divinity of good fortune, and always
ready to side with the strongest. We should not rely upon their feelings
of to-day, as any pledge for what they will be to-morrow."--_Flint's
Geography_, vol. i., p. 120.
[45] "_Geography of the Mississippi Valley_," vol. i., p. 121.
[46] "The Indians are immoderately fond of play."--_Warburton_, vol. i.,
p. 218.
[47] These used cards; but they have, among themselves, numerous games
of chance, older than the discovery of the continent.
[48] "The Cherokee and Mobilian families of nations are more numerous
now than ever."--_Bancroft_, vol. iii., p. 253. In speaking of this
declamation about the extinction of the race, Mr. Flint very pertinently
remarks: "One would think it had been discovered, that the population,
the improvements, and the social happiness of our great political
edifice, ought never to have been erected in the place of these
habitations of cruelty."--_Geography_, vol. i., p. 107.
[49] Idem.
[50] This is De Tocqueville's estimate.--_Democracy in America_, vol.
ii., chap. 10.
[51] "We may as well endeavor to make the setting sun stand still on the
summit of the Rocky Mountains, as attempt to arrest the final extermination
of the Indian race!"--_Merivale on Colonization_--_Lecture_ 19.
The principle stated in the text will apply with equal force to the
negro-race; and those who will look the facts firmly in the face, can
not avoid seeing, that the ultimate solution of the problem of American
Slavery, can be nothing but _the sword_.
II.
THE VOYAGEUR.
"Spread out earth's holiest records here,
Of days and deeds to reverence dear:
A zeal like this, what pious legends tell?"
The shapeless knight-errantry of the thirteenth and fourteenth
centuries, rich as it was in romance and adventure, is not to be
compared, in any valuable characteristic, to the noiseless self-devotion
of the men who first explored the Western country. The courage of the
knight was a part of his savage nature; his confidence was in the
strength of his own right arm; and if his ruggedness was ever softened
down by gentler thoughts, it was only when he asked forgiveness for his
crimes, or melted in sensual idolatry of female beauty.