Chapter I: HAVE already sketched a general outline of that pleasant home to which (2)

POPULATION extending to the milder regions of Europe, brought civilization along with it, so that it is only among the savages, (as we call our ancestors) of the north, that we can trace the intermediate state I have spoken of. Amongst them, one regular gradation seems to have taken place; they were first hunters and then warriors. As they advanced in their knowledge of the arts of life, and acquired a little property, as much of pastoral pursuits as their rigorous climate would allow, without the aid of regular agriculture, mingled with their wandering habits. But, except in a few partial instances, from hunters they became conquerors; the warlike habits acquired from that mode of life, raising their minds above patient industry, and teaching them to despise the softer arts that embellish society. In fine, their usual process was to pass to civilization through the medium of conquest. The poet says,

“With noble scorn the first fam’d Cato viewed,
Rome learning arts from Greece, which she subdued.”

The surly censor might have spared his scorn, for doubtless science, and the arts of peace, were by far the most valuable acquisitions resulting from their conquest of that polished and ingenious people. But when the savage hunters of the north became too numerous to subsist on their deer and fish, and too warlike to dread the conflict with troops more regularly armed, they rushed down, like a cataract, on their enfeebled and voluptuous neighbours; destroyed the monuments of art, and seemed, for a time, to change the very face of nature. Yet dreadful as were the devastations of this flood, let forth by divine vengeance to punish and to renovate, it had its use in sweeping away the hoarded mass of corruption, with which the dregs of mankind had polluted the earth. It was an awful but a needful process, which, in some form or other, is always renewed when human degeneracy has reached its ultimatum. The destruction of these feeble beings, who, lost to every manly and virtuous sentiment, crawl about the rich property which they have not sense to use worthily, or spirit to defend manfully, may be compared to the effort nature makes to rid herself of the noxious brood of wasps and slugs, cherished by successive mild winters. A dreadful frost comes; man suffers and complains; his subject animals suffer more, and all his works are for a time suspended: but this salutary infliction purifies the air, meliorates the soil, and destroys millions of lurking enemies, who would otherwise have consumed the productions of the earth, and deformed the face of nature. In these barbarous irruptions, the monuments of art, statues, pictures, temples, and palaces, seem to be most lamented. From age to age, the virtuosi of every country have re-echoed to each other their feeble plaints over the lost works of art, as if that had been the heaviest sorrow in the general wreck—and as if the powers that produced them had ceased to exist. It is over the defaced image of the divine author, and not merely the mutilated resemblance of his creatures, that the wise and virtuous should lament! We are told that in Rome there are as many statues as men: had all these lamented statues been preserved, would the world be much wiser or happier? A sufficient number remain as models to future statuaries, and memorials of departed art and genius. Wealth, directed by taste and liberality, may be much better employed in calling forth, by due encouragement, that genius which doubtless exists among our contemporaries, than in paying exorbitantly the vender of fragments.

“Mind, mind alone, bear witness, earth and Heav’n,
The living fountain in itself contains
Of beauteous and sublime.”

And what has ind achieved, that, in a favourable conjuncture, it may not again aspire to? The lost arts are ever the theme of classical lamentation; but the great and real evil was the loss of the virtues which protected them; of courage, fortitude, honour, and patriotism: in short, of the whole manly character. This must be allowed, after the dreadful tempest of subversion was over, to have been in some degree restored in the days of chivalry: and it is equally certain that the victors learnt from the vanquished many of the arts that support life, and all those which embellish it. When their manners were softened by the aid of a mild and charitable religion, this blended people assumed that undefined power, derived from superior valour and wisdom, which has so far exalted Europe over all the regions of the earth. Thus, where a bold and warlike people subdue a voluptuous and effeminate one, the result is, in due time, an improvement of national character. In similar climes and circumstances to those of the primeval nations in the other hemisphere, the case has been very different. There, too, the hunter, by the same gradation, became a warrior; but first allured by the friendship which sought his protection; then repelled by the art that coveted and encroached on his territories; and lastly by the avarice which taught him new wants, and then took an undue advantage of them; they neither wished for our superfluities, nor envied our mode of life; nor did our encroachments much disturb them, as they receded into their trackless coverts as we approached from the coast. But though they scorned our refinements; and though our government, and all the enlightened minds among us, dealt candidly and generously with all such as were not set on by our enemies to injure us, the blight of European vices, the mere consequence of private greediness and fraud, proved fatal to our very friends. As I formerly observed, the nature of the climate did not admit of the warriors passing through the medium of a shepherd’s life to the toils of agriculture. The climate, though extremely warm in summer, was so severe in winter, and that winter was so long, that it required no little labour to secure the food for the animals which were to be maintained; and no small expense, in that country, to procure the implements necessary for the purposes of agriculture. In other countries, when a poor man has not wherewithal to begin farming, he serves another, and the reward of his toil enables him to set up for himself. No such resource was open to the Indians, had they even inclined to adopt our modes. No Indian ever served another, or received assistance from any one except his own family. It is inconceivable, too, what a different kind of exertion of strength it requires to cultivate the ground, and to endure the fatigues of the chace, long journeys, &c. To all that induces us to labour they were indifferent. When a governor of New-York was describing to an Indian the advantages that some one would derive from such and such possessions; “Why,” said he, with evident surprise, “should any man desire to possess more than he uses?” More appeared, to his untutored sense, an incumbrance.

I have already observed how much happier they considered their manner of living than ours; yet their intercourse with us daily diminished their independence, their happiness, and even their numbers. In the New World, this fatality has never failed to follow the introduction of European settlers; who, instead of civilizing and improving, slowly consume and waste—where they do not, like the Spaniards, absolutely destroy and exterminate the natives. The very nature of even our most friendly mode of dealing with them, was pernicious to their moral welfare; which, though too late, they well understood, and could as well explain. Untutored man, in beginning to depart from that life of exigences, in which the superior acuteness of his senses, his fleetness and dexterity in the chace, are his chief dependence, loses so much of all this before he can become accustomed to, or qualified for our mode of procuring food by patient labour, that nothing can be conceived more enfeebled and forlorn, than the state of the few detached families remaining of vanished tribes, who, having lost their energy, and even the wish to live in their own manner, were slowly and reluctantly beginning to adopt ours. It was like that suspension of life which takes place in the chrysalis of insects, while in their progress towards a new state of being. Alas! the indolence with which we reproach them, was merely the consequence of their commercial intercourse with us; and the fatal passion for strong liquors which resulted from it. As the fabled enchanter, by waving his magic wand, chains up at once the faculties of his opponents, and renders strength and courage useless; the most wretched and sordid trader, possessed of this master-key to the appetites and passions of these hard-fated people, could disarm those he dealt with of all their resources, and render them dependent—nay, dependent on those they scorned and hated. The process was simple: first, the power of sending, by mimic thunder, an unseen death to a distant foe, which filled the softer inhabitants of the southern regions with so much terror, was here merely an object of desire and emulation; and so eagerly did they adopt the use of fire-arms, that they soon became less expert in using their own missile weapons. They could still throw the tomahawk with such an unerring aim, that, though it went circling through the air towards its object, it never failed to reach it. But the arrows, on which they had formerly so much depended, were now considered merely as the weapons of boys, and only directed against birds.

Thus was one strong link forged in the chain of dependence; next, liquor became a necessary, and its fatal effects who can detail? But to make it still clearer, I have mentioned the passion for dress, in which all the pride and vanity of this people was centered. In former days, this had the best effect, in being a stimulus to industry. The provision requisite for making a splendid appearance at the winter meetings, for hunting and the national congress, occupied the leisure hours of the whole summer. The beaver skins of the last year’s hunting were to be accurately dressed, and sewed together, to form that mantle which was so much valued, and as necessary to their consequence as the pelisse of sables is to that of an Eastern bashaw. A deer skin, or that of a bear or beaver, had their stated price. The boldest and most expert hunter, had most of these commodities to spare, and was therefore most splendidly arrayed. If he had a rival, it was in him whose dexterous ingenuity in fabricating the materials of which his own dress was composed, enabled him to vie with the hero of the chase.

Thus superior elegance in dress was not, as with us, the distinction of the luxurious and effeminate, but the privilege and reward of superior courage and industry; and became an object worthy of competition. Thus employed, and thus adorned, the sachem or his friends found little time to indulge the stupid indolence we have been accustomed to impute to them.

Another arduous task remains uncalculated. Before they became dependent on us for the means of destruction, much time was consumed in forming their weapons; in the construction of which no less patience and ingenuity were exercised than in that of their ornaments; and those, too, were highly embellished, and made with great labour out of flints, pebbles, and shells. But all this system of employment was soon overturned by their late acquaintance with the insidious arts of Europe, to the use of whose manufactures they were insensibly drawn in, first by their passion for fire-arms, and finally, by their fatal appetite for liquor. To make this more clear, I shall insert a dialogue, such as, if not literally, at least in substance, might pass betwixt an Indian warrior and a trader.

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CHAP. XXV.

Means by which the independence of the Indians was first diminished.

_Indian_—BROTHER, I am come to trade with you; but I forewarn you to be more moderate in your demands than formerly.

_Trader_—Why, brother, are not my goods of equal value with those you had last year?

_Indian_—Perhaps they may; but mine are more valuable because more scarce. The Great Spirit, who has withheld from you strength and ability to provide food and clothing for yourselves, has given you cunning and art to make guns and provided scaura;[6] and by speaking smooth words to simple men, when they have swallowed madness, you have, by little and little, purchased their hunting grounds, and made them corn lands. Thus the beavers grow more scarce, and deer fly farther back; yet after I have reserved skins for my mantle, and the clothing of my wife, I will exchange the rest.

_Trader_—Be it so, brother: I came not to wrong you, or take your furs against your will. It is true, the beavers are few, and you go further for them. Come, brother, let us deal fair first, and smoke friendly afterwards. Your last gun cost fifty beaver skins, you shall have this for forty—and you shall give marten and raccoon skins in the same proportion for powder and shot.

_Indian_—Well, brother, that is equal. Now for two silver bracelets, with long, pendent ear-rings of the same, such as you sold to Cardarani, in the sturgeon month,[7] last year. How much will you demand?

Footnote 6:

Scaura is the Indian name for rum.

_Trader_—The skins of two deer for the bracelets, and those of two fawns for the ear-rings.

_Indian_—That is a great deal; but wampum grows scarce, and silver never rusts. Here are the skins.

_Trader_—Do you buy any more? Here are knives, hatchets, and beads of all colours.

_Indian_—I will have a knife and a hatchet, but must not take more: the rest of the skins will be little enough to clothe the women and children, and buy wampum. Your beads are of no value; no warrior who has slain a wolf will wear them.[8]

_Trader_—Here are many things good for you, which you have not skins to buy; here is a looking-glass, and here is a brass kettle, in which your woman may boil her maize, her beans, and above all, her maple-sugar. Here are silver brooches, and here are pistols for the youths.

_Indian_—The skins I can spare will not purchase them.

_Trader_—Your will determine, brother; but next year you will want nothing but powder and shot, having already purchased your gun and ornaments. If you will purchase from me a blanket to wrap round you, a shirt and blue stroud for under garments for yourself and your woman, and the same for leggings, this will pass the time, and save you the great labour of dressing the skins, making the thread, &c. for your clothing, which will give you more fishing and shooting time in the sturgeon and bear months.

Footnote 7:

The Indians appropriate a month to catch fish or animals, which is at
that time, the predominant object of pursuit: as the bear month, the
beaver month, &c.

Footnote 8:

Indians have a great contempt, comparatively, for the beads we send
them, which they consider as only fit for those plebeians who cannot
by their exertions, win any better. They estimate them, compared with
their own wampum, as we do pearls compared with paste.

_Indian_—But the custom of my fathers.

_Trader_—You will not break the custom of your fathers by being thus clad for a single year. They did not refuse those things which were offered to them.

_Indian_—For this year, brother, I will exchange my skins; in the next, I shall provide apparel more befitting a warrior. One pack alone I will reserve, to dress for a future occasion. The summer must not find a warrior idle.

The terms being adjusted, and the bargain concluded, the trader thus shows his gratitude for liberal dealing.

_Trader_—Corlaer has forbid bringing scaura to steal away the wisdom of the warriors; but we white men are weak and cold; we bring kegs for ourselves, lest death arise from the swamps. We will not sell scaura, but you shall taste some of ours in return for the venison with which you have feasted us.

_Indian_—Brother, we will drink moderately.

A bottle was then given to the warrior, by way of present, which he was advised to keep long, but found it irresistible. He soon returned with the reserved pack of skins, earnestly urging the trader to give him beads, silver brooches, and above all, scaura, to their full amount. This, with much affected reluctance at parting with the private stock, was at last yielded. The warriors now, after giving loose for a while to frantic mirth, began the war-whoop, made the woods resound with infuriated howlings; and having exhausted their dear-bought draught, probably determined, in contempt of that probity, which at all other times they rigidly observed, to plunder the instruments of their pernicious gratification. He, well aware of the consequences, took care to remove himself and his goods to some other place, and a renewal of the same scene ensued. Where, all this time, were the women, whose gentle counsels might have prevented these excesses? Alas! unrestrained by that delicacy which is certainly one of the best fruits of refinement, they shared in them, and sunk sooner under them. A long and deep sleep generally succeeded, from which they awoke in a state of dejection and chagrin, such as no Indian had ever experienced under any other circumstances. They felt as Milton describes Adam and Eve to have done after their transgression. Exhausted and forlorn, and stung with the consciousness of error and dependence, they had neither the means nor the desire of exercising their wonted summer occupations with spirit. Vacancy produced languor, and languor made them wish for the potion which gave temporary cheerfulness.[9] They carried their fish to the next fort or habitation to barter for rum. This brought on days of frenzy, succeeded by torpor. When again roused by want of exertion, they saw the season passing without the usual provision, and by an effort of persevering industry, tried to make up for past negligence; and then worn out by exertion, sunk into supine indolence, till the approach of winter called them to hunt the bear; and the arrival of that, (their busy season,) urged on their distant excursions in pursuit of deer. Then they resumed their wonted character, and became what they used to be; but conscious that acquired tastes and wants, which they had not themselves the power of supplying, would throw them again on the traders for clothing, &c. they were themselves out-straining every sinew to procure enough of peltry to answer their purpose, and to gratify their newly-acquired appetites. Thus the energy, both of their characters and constitutions, was gradually undermined—and their numbers as effectually diminished, as if they had been wasted by war.

Footnote 9:

From Peter Schuyler, brother to the colonel, I have heard many such
details.

The small-pox was also so fatal to them, that whole tribes on the upper lakes have been entirely extinguished by it. Those people being in the habit of using all possible means of closing the pores of the skin, by painting and anointing themselves with bears’ grease, to defend them against the extremity of cold, to which their manner of life exposed them; and not being habitually subject to any cutaneous disease, the small-pox rarely rises upon them; from which it may be understood how little chance they had of recovering. All this I heard aunt Schuyler relate, whose observations and reflections I merely detail.

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CHAP. XXVI.

Peculiar attractions of the Indian mode of life—Account of a settler who
resided some time among them.

IN this wild liberty, habits of probity, mutual confidence, and constant variety, there was an undefinable charm, that while they preserved their primitive manners, wrought in every one who dwelt for any time amongst them.

I have often heard my friend speak of an old man, who, being carried away in his infancy by some hostile tribe who had slain his parents, was rescued very soon after by a tribe of friendly Indians, who, from motives of humanity, resolved to bring him up among themselves, that he might, in their phrase, “learn to bend the bow, and speak truth.” When it was discovered, some years after, that he was still living, his relations reclaimed him, and the community wished him to return and inherit his father’s lands, now become more considerable. The Indians were unwilling to part with their protégé, and he was still more reluctant to return. This was considered as a bad precedent; the early settlers having found it convenient in several things regarding hunting, food, &c. to assimilate in some degree with the Indians; and the young men, occasionally, at that early period, joined their hunting and fishing parties. It was considered as a matter of serious import to reclaim this young alien, lest others should be lost to the community and to their religion, by following his example. With difficulty they forced him home—where they never could have detained him, had they not carefully and gradually inculcated into his mind the truths of christianity. To those instructions, even his Indian predilections taught him to listen; for it was the religion of his fathers, and venerable to him as such: still, however, his dislike of our manners was never entirely conquered, nor was his attachment to his foster fathers ever much diminished. He was possessed of a very sound intellect, and used to declaim with the most vehement eloquence, against our crafty and insidious encroachments on our old friends. His abhorrence of the petty falsehoods to which custom has too well reconciled us, and those little artifices which we all occasionally practise, rose to a height fully equal to that felt by Gulliver. Swift and this other misanthrope, though they lived at the same time, could not have had any intercourse, else one might have supposed the invectives which he has put into the mouth of Gulliver, were borrowed from this demi-savage; whose contempt and hatred of selfishness, meanness, and duplicity, were expressed in language worthy of the dean: insomuch, that years after I had heard of this singular character, I thought, on reading Gulliver’s asperities, after returning from Houyhnhnmland, that I had met my old friend again. One really does meet with characters that fiction would seem too bold in portraying. This original had an aversion to liquor, which amounted to abhorrence; being embittered by his regret at the mischiefs resulting from it to his old friends, and rage at the traders for administering the means of depravity. He could never bear any seasoning to his food, and despised luxury in all its forms.

For all the growing evils I have been describing, there was only one remedy, which the sagacity of my friend and her other self soon discovered; and their humanity as well as principle, led them to try all possible means of administering. It was the pure light and genial influence of christianity alone, that could cheer and ameliorate the state of these people, now, from a concurrence of circumstances scarcely to be avoided in the nature of things, deprived of the independence habitual to their own way of life, without acquiring in its room any of those comforts which sweeten ours. By gradually and gently unfolding to them the views of a happy futurity, and the means by which depraved humanity was restored to a participation of that blessing; pride, revenge, and the indulgence of every excess of passion or appetite being restrained by the precepts of a religion ever powerful where it is sincere; their spirits would be brought down from the fierce pride which despises improvement, to adopt such of our modes as would enable them to incorporate in time with our society, and procure for themselves a comfortable subsistence, in a country no longer adapted to supply the wants of the houseless rangers of the forest.

The narrow policy of many looked coldly on this benevolent project. Hunters supplied the means of commerce, and warriors those of defence; and it was questionable whether a Christian Indian would hunt or fight as well as formerly. This, however, had no power with those in whom christianity was any thing more than a name. There were already many christian Indians; and it was very encouraging that not one, once converted, had ever forsaken the strict profession of their religion, or ever, in a single instance, abandoned themselves to the excesses so pernicious to their unconverted brethren. Never was the true spirit of christianity more exemplified than in the lives of those comparatively few converts, who, about this time, amounted to more than two hundred. But the tender care and example of the Schuylers, co-operating with the incessant labours of a judicious and truly apostolic missionary, some years after, greatly augmented their numbers in different parts of the continent; and to this day, the memory of David Brainard, the faithful labourer alluded to, is held in veneration in those districts that were blessed with his ministry. He did not confine himself to one people or province, but travelled from place to place, to disseminate the gospel to new converts, and confirm and cherish the truths already planted. The first foundation of that church had, however, as I formerly mentioned, been laid long ago; and the examples of piety, probity, and benevolence, set by the worthies at the Flats, and a few more, were a very necessary comment on the doctrines to which their assent was desired.

The great stumbling block which the missionaries had to encounter with the Indians, (who, as far as their knowledge went, argued with great acuteness and logical precision,) was the small influence which our religion seemed to have over many of its professors. “Why,” said they, “if the book of truth, that shows the way to happiness, and bids all men do justice, and love one another, is given both to Corlaer, and Onnonthio,[10] does it not direct them in the same way? Why does Onnonthio worship, and Corlaer neglect, the mother of the blessed one? And why do the missionaries blame those for worshipping things made with hands, while the priests tell the praying nation[11] that Corlaer and his people have forsaken the worship of his forefathers: besides, how can people, who believe that God and good spirits view and take an interest in all their actions, cheat and dissemble, drink and fight, quarrel and backbite, if they believe the great fire burns for those who do such things? If we believed what you say, we should not exchange so much good for wickedness, to please an evil spirit, who would rejoice at our destruction.”

Footnote 10:

Corlaer was the title given by them to the governor of New-York; and
was figuratively used for the governed, and Onnonthio for those of
Canada, in the same manner.

Footnote 11:

Praying nation, was a name given to a village of Indians near
Montreal, who professed the catholic faith.

To this reasoning it was not easy to oppose any thing that could carry conviction to untutored people, who spoke from observation and the evidence of the senses; to which could only be opposed scripture texts, which avail not till they are believed; and abstract reasoning, extremely difficult to bring to the level of an unlearned understanding. Great labour and perseverance wrought on the minds of a few, who felt conviction, as far as it is to be ascribed to human agency, flowing from the affectionate persuasion of those whom they visibly beheld earnest for their eternal welfare: and when a few had thus yielded,[12] the peace and purity of their lives, and the sublime enjoyment they seemed to derive from the prospects their faith opened into futurity, was an inducement to others to follow the same path. This abstractedly from religious considerations of endless futurity, is the true and only way to civilization; and to the blending together the old and new inhabitants of these regions. National pride, rooted prejudices, ferocity, and vindictive hatred, all yield before a change that new moulds the whole soul, and furnishes man with new fears and hopes, and new motives for action.

Footnote 12:

Some of them made such a proficiency in practical religion, as ought
to shame many of us who boast the illuminating aids of our native
christianity. Not one of these Indians have been concerned in those
barbarous irruptions which deluged the frontiers of our south-western
provinces with the blood of so many innocents of every age and sex. At
the commencement of these ravages, they flew into the settlements, and
put themselves under the protection of government. The Indians no
sooner became christians, than they openly professed their loyalty to
King George; and therefore, to contribute to their conversion, was as
truly politic as nobly christian.

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CHAP. XXVII.

Indians only to be attached by being converted—The abortive expedition
of Mons. Barre—Ironical sketch of an Indian.

UPON the attachment the Indians had to our religion, was grafted the strongest regard to our government, and the greatest fidelity to the treaties made with us. I shall insert a specimen of Indian eloquence, illustrative of this last; not that I consider it by any means so rich, impressive, or sublime as many others that I could quote, but as containing a figure of speech rarely to be met with among savage people; and supposed, by us, incompatible with the state of intellectual advancement to which they have attained. I mean a fine and well supported irony. About the year 1686, Mons. Barre, the commander of the French forces in Canada, made a kind of inroad, with a warlike design, into the precincts claimed by our Mohawk allies; the march was tedious, the French fell sick, and many of their Indians deserted them. The wily commander, finding himself unequal to the meditated attack, and that it would be unsafe to return through the lakes and woods, while in hourly danger of meeting enemies so justly provoked, sent to invite the sachems to a friendly conference; and when they met, asserted in an artful speech that he and his troops had come with the sole intention of settling old grievances, and smoking the calumet of peace with them. The Indians, not imposed on by such pretences, listened patiently to his speech, and then made the answer which the reader will find in the notes.[13] It is to be observed, that whoever they considered as the ruling person for the time being in Canada, they styled Onnonthio; while the governor of New-York they always called Corlaer.

Footnote 13:

“Onnonthio, I honour you; and all the warriors who are with me
likewise honour you. Your interpreter has finished his speech, I begin
mine. My words make haste to reach your ears; hearken to them,
Yonnondio. You must have believed, when you left Quebec, that the sun
had burnt up all the forests which made our country so inaccessible to
the French; or that the lakes had so far overflowed their banks, that
they had surrounded our castles, and that it was impossible for us to
get out of them. Yes, Yonnondio, surely you have dreamt so: and the
curiosity of seeing so great a wonder has brought you so far. Now you
are undeceived, since I and the warriors here present, are come to
assure you that the Hurons, Onondagoes, and Mohawks are yet alive. I
thank you, in their name, for bringing back into their country the
calumet, which your predecessor received from their hands. It was
happy for you that you left underground that murdering hatchet, which
has been so dyed with the blood of the French. Hear, Onnondio, I do
not sleep; I have my eyes open: and the sun which enlightens me,
discovers to me a great captain, at the head of his soldiers, who
speaks as if he were dreaming. He says that he only came to the lake
to smoke out the great calumet with the Five Nations; but Connaratego
says that he sees the contrary: that it was to knock them on the head,
if sickness had not weakened the arms of the French. I see Onnonthio
raving in a camp of sick men, whose lives the Great Spirit has saved
by inflicting this sickness upon them. Hear, Onnonthio, our women had
taken their clubs; our children and old men had carried their bows and
arrows into the heart of your camp, if our warriors had not disarmed
them, and kept them back, when your messenger came to our castles. It
is done, and I have said it. Hear, Yonnondio, we plundered none of the
French, but those who carried guns, powder, and ball to the wolf and
elk tribes, because those arms might have cost us our lives. Herein we
follow the example of the Jesuits, who stave all the kegs of rum
brought to the castles where they are, lest the drunken Indians should
knock them on the head. Our warriors have not beavers enough to pay
for all those arms that they have taken—and our old men are not afraid
of the war. This belt preserves my words. We carried the English into
our lakes, to trade with the wolf and elk tribes, as the praying
Indians brought the French to our castles, to carry on a trade, which
the English say is theirs. We are born free. We neither depend upon
Onnonthio nor Corlaer; we may go where we please. If your allies be
your slaves, use them as such; command them to receive no other but
your people. This belt preserves my words. We knocked the Connecticut
Indians and their confederates on the head, because they had cut down
the trees of peace, which were the limits of our country. They have
hunted beavers on our lands, contrary to the customs of all Indians,
for they have left none alive; they have killed both male and female.
They brought the Sathanas into our country to take part with them,
after they had formed ill designs against us; we have done less than
they merited.

“Hear, once more, the words of the Five Nations. They say that when
they buried the hatchet at Cardaragui, (in the presence of your
predecessor,) in the middle of the fort, [Detroit] they planted the
tree of peace in the same place, to be there carefully preserved; that
instead of an abode for soldiers, that fort might be a rendezvous for
merchants; that in place of arms and ammunition, only peltry and goods
should enter there.

“Hear, Yonnondio, take care for the future that so great a number of
soldiers as appear there do not choke the tree of peace, planted in so
small a fort. It will be a great loss, after having so easily taken
root, if you should stop its growth, and prevent its covering your
country and ours with its branches. I assure you, in the name of the
Five Nations that our warriors shall dance to the calumet of peace
under its leaves, and shall remain quiet on their mats; and that they
shall never dig up the hatchet till Corlaer or Onnonthio, either
jointly or separately, attack the country, which the Great Spirit hath
given to our ancestors. This belt preserves my words; and this other,
the authority which the Five Nations have given me.” Then Garangula,
addressing himself to Mons. de Maine, who understood his language, and
interpreted, spoke thus: “take courage, friend, you have spirits,
speak, explain my words, omit nothing. Tell all that your brethren and
friends say to Onnonthio, your governor, by the mouth of Garangula,
who loves you, and desires you to accept of this present of beaver,
and take part with me in my feast, to which I invite you. This present
of beaver is sent to Yonnondio on the part of the Five Nations.”

Mons. Barré returned to his fort much enraged at what he had heard.
Garangula feasted the French officers, and then went home; and Mons.
Barré set out on his way towards Montreal; and as soon as the general,
with the few soldiers who remained in health, had embarked, the
militia made their way to their own habitations without order or
discipline. Thus a chargeable and fatiguing expedition, meant to
strike terror of the French name into the stubborn hearts of the Five
Nations, ended in a scold between a French general and an old
Indian.—_Colden’s History of the Five Nations, p. 68._

Twice in the year, the new converts came to Albany to partake of the sacrament, before a place of worship was erected for themselves. They always spent the night, or oftener two nights, before their joining in this holy rite, at the Flats, which was their general rendezvous from different quarters. There they were cordially received by the three brothers, who always met together at this time to have a conference with them, on subjects the most important to their present and future welfare. These devout Indians seemed all impressed with the same feelings, and moved by the same spirit. They were received with affectionate cordiality, and accommodated in a manner quite conformable to their habits, in the passage, porch, and offices; and so deeply impressed were they with a sense of the awful duty that brought them there, and the rights of friendship and hospitality, and at this period, become so much acquainted with our customs, that though two hundred communicants, followed by many of their children, were used to assemble on those occasions, the smallest instance of riot or impropriety was not known amongst them. They brought little presents of game, or of their curious handicrafts, and were liberally and kindly entertained by their good brother Philip, as they familiarly called him. In the evening they all went apart to secret prayer, and in the morning, by dawn of day, they assembled before the portico; and their entertainers, who rose early, to enjoy, unobserved, a view of their social devotion, beheld them with their mantles drawn over their heads, prostrate on the earth, offering praises and fervent supplications to their Maker. After some time spent in this manner, they arose, and seated in a circle on the ground, with their heads veiled as formerly, they sang a hymn, which it was delightful to hear, from the strength, richness, and sweet accord of their uncommonly fine voices; which every one that ever heard this sacred chorus, however indifferent to the purport of it, praised as incomparable. The voices of the female Indians are particularly sweet and powerful. I have often heard my friend dwell with singular pleasure on the recollection of those scenes, and of the conversations she and the colonel used to hold with the Indians, whom she described as possessed of very superior powers of understanding; and in their religious views and conversations, uniting the ardour of proselytes with the firm decision and inflexible steadiness of their national character. It was on the return of those new christians to the Flats, after they had thus solemnly sealed their profession, that these wise regulations for preserving peace and good will between the settlers (now become confident and careless from their numbers) and the Indians, jealous, with reason, of their ancient rights, were concluded.

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CHAP. XXVIII.

Management of the Mohawks, by the influence of the Christian Indians.

THE influence these converts had obtained over the minds of those most venerated for wisdom among their countrymen, was the medium through which this patriot family, in some degree, controlled the opinions of that community at large, and kept them faithful to the British interests. Every two or three years, there was a congress held, by deputies from New-York, who generally spoke to the Indians by an interpreter; went through the form of delivering presents from their brother, the great king, redressing petty grievances, smoking the calumet of peace, and delivering belts, the pledges of amity. But these were mere public forms; the real terms of this often renewed amity having been previously digested by those who far better understood the relations subsisting between the contracting parties, and the causes most likely to interrupt their union. Colonel Schuyler, though always ready to serve his country in exigencies, did not like to take upon himself any permanent responsibility, as a superintendent of Indian affairs, as it might have diminished that private influence which arose from the general veneration for his character, and from a conviction that the concern he took was voluntary and impartial; neither did he choose to sacrifice that domestic peace and leisure, which he so well knew how to turn to the best account, being convinced that by his example and influence as a private gentleman, he had it in his power to do much good of a peculiar kind, which was incompatible with the weight and bustle of public affairs, or with that hospitality, which, as they managed it, was productive of so many beneficial effects. I have already shown how, by prudent address and kind conciliation this patriotic pair soothed and attached the Indians to the British interest. As the country grew more populous, and property more abundant and more secure, the face of society in this inland region began to change. They whose quiet and orderly demeanor, devotion, and integrity, did not much require the enforcement of laws, began now to think themselves above them. To a deputed authority, the source of which lay beyond the Atlantic, they paid little deference; and from their neighbours of New Hampshire and Connecticut, who bordered on their frontiers, and served with them in the colonial wars, they had little to learn of loyalty or submission. These people they held in great contempt, both as soldiers and statesmen; and yet, from their frequent intercourse with those who talked of law and politics in their peculiar, uncouth dialect incessantly, they insensibly adopted many of their notions. There is a certain point of stable happiness at which our imperfect nature merely seems to arrive; for the very materials of which it is formed contain the seeds of its destruction: this was the case here. That peaceful and desirable equality of conditions, from which so many comforts resulted, in process of time occasioned an aversion to superiors, to whom they were not accustomed, and an exaggerated jealousy of the power which was exercised for their own safety and comfort. Their manners unsophisticated, and their morals, in a great measure, uncorrupted, led them to regard with unjustifiable scorn and aversion, those strangers who brought with them the manners of more polished, though less pure communities. Proud of their haughty bluntness, which daily increased with their wealth and security, they began to consider respectful and polite behaviour as a degree of servility and duplicity; while they revolted at the power exercised over themselves, and very reluctantly made the exertions necessary for their own protection. They showed every inclination to usurp the territories of their Indian allies; and use, to the very utmost, the power they had acquired over them, by supplying their wants.

At the liberal table of aunt Schuyler, where there were always intelligence, just notions, and good breeding to be met with, both among the owners and their guests, many had their prejudices softened down, their minds enlarged, and their manners improved. There they met British officers of rank and merit, and persons in authority; and learnt that the former were not artificial coxcombs, nor the latter petty tyrants, as they would otherwise be very apt to imagine. Here they were accustomed to find authority respected, on the one hand, and on the other, to see the natural rights of man vindicated, and the utmost abhorrence expressed of all the sophistry by which the credulous were misled by the crafty, to have a code of morality for their treatment of heathens, different from that which directed them in their dealing with christians. Here a selection of the best and worthiest, of the different characters and classes we have been describing, met—and were taught not only to tolerate, but to esteem each other: and it required the calm, temperate wisdom, and easy, versatile manners of my friend to bring this about. It is when they are called to act in a new scene, and among people different from any they had known or imagined, that the folly of the wise, and the weakness of the strong, become discernible.

Many officers justly esteemed, possessed of capacity, learning, and much knowledge, both of the usages of the world, and the art of war, from the want of certain habitudes, which nothing but experience can teach, were disqualified for the warfare of the woods; and from a secret contempt with which they regarded the blunt simplicity and plain appearance of the settlers, were not attentive to their advice on these points. They were not aware how much they were to depend on them for the means of carrying on their operations; and by rude or negligent treatment so disgusted them, that they withheld the horses, oxen, waggons, &c. which were to be paid for, merely to show their independence; well knowing the dreaded and detested military power, even if coercive measures were resorted to, would have no chance for redress in their courts; and even the civil authority were cautious of doing any thing so unpopular as to decide in favour of the military. Thus, till properly instructed, those bewildered strangers were apt to do the thing of all others that annihilates a feeble authority; threaten where they could not strike, and forfeit respect where they could not enforce obedience. A failure of this kind, clogged and enfeebled all their measures; for without the hearty co-operation of the inhabitants in furnishing pre-requisites, nothing could go on in a country without roads, or public vehicles, for the conveyance of their warlike stores. Another rock they were apt to run upon was, a neglect of the Indians, whom they neither sufficiently feared as enemies, nor valued as friends, till taught to do so by maturer judgments. Of this, Braddock’s defeat was an instance; he was brave, experienced, and versed in all military science; his confidence in which, occasioned the destruction of himself and his army. He considered those counsels, that warned him how little, manœuvres or numbers would avail in the close prison of innumerable boughs, as the result of feeble caution; and marched his army to certain ruin, in the most brave and scientific manner imaginable. Upon certain occasions, there is no knowledge so valuable as that of our own ignorance.

At the Flats, the self-righted boor learned civilization and subordination: the high-bred and high-spirited field officer, gentleness, accommodation, and respect for unpolished worth and untaught valour. There, too, the shrewd and deeply-reflecting Indian learnt to respect the British character, and to confide in that of the settlers, by seeing the best specimens of both acting candidly towards each other, and generously to himself.

My friend was most particularly calculated to be the coadjutor of her excellent consort, in thus subduing the spirits of different classes of people, strongly disposed to entertain a repulsive dislike of each other; and by leading them to the chastened enjoyment of the same social pleasures, under the auspices of those whose good will they were all equally convinced of, she contrived to smooth down asperities, and assimilate those various characters, in a manner that could not be done by any other means.

Accustomed from childhood, both from the general state of society, and the enlarged minds of her particular associates, to take liberal views of every thing, and to look forward on all occasions to consequences, she steadily followed her wise and benevolent purposes, without being attracted by petty gratifications, or repelled by petty disgusts. Neither influenced by female vanity, nor female fastidiousness, she might very truly say of popularity, as Falstaff says of Worcester’s rebellion, “it lay in her way and she found it;” for no one ever took less pains to obtain it; and if the weight of solid usefulness and beneficence had not, as it never fails to do in the long run, forced approbation, her mode of conducting herself, though it might greatly endear her to her particular associates, was not conciliating to common minds. The fact was, that though her benevolence extended through the whole circle of those to whom she was known, she had too many objects of importance in view, to squander time upon imbecility and insignificance; nor could she find leisure for the routine of ordinary visits, or inclination for the insipidity of ordinary chit chat.

If people of the description here alluded to, could forward any plan advantageous to the public, or to any of those persons in whom she was particularly interested, she would treat them occasionally with much civility—for she had all the power of superior intellect without the pride of it, but could not submit to a perpetual sacrifice to forms and trifles. This, in her, was not only justifiable but laudable; yet it is not mentioned as an example, because a case can very rarely occur, where the benefit resulting to others, from making one’s own path, and forsaking the ordinary road, can be so essential:—few ever can have a sphere of action so peculiar or so important as hers; and very few, indeed, have so sound a judgment to direct them in choosing, or so much fortitude to support them in pursuing, a way of their own.

In ordinary matters, where neither religion nor morality is concerned, it is much safer to trust to the common sense of mankind in general, than to our own particular fancy. Singularity of conduct or opinion is so often the result of vanity or affectation, that whoever ventures upon it, ought to be a person whose example is looked up to by others. A person too great to follow, ought to be great enough to lead. But though her conversation was reserved for those she preferred, her advice, compassion, and good offices were always given where most needed.

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CHAP. XXIX.

Madame’s adopted children—Anecdote of sister Susan.

YEARS passed away in this manner, varied only by the extension of that protection and education, which they gave to a succession of nephews and nieces of the colonel or Mrs. Schuyler. These they did not take from mere compassion, as all their relations were in easy circumstances; but influenced by various considerations, such as, in some cases, the death of the mother of the children, or perhaps the father; in others, where their nieces or nephews married very early, and lived in the houses of their respective parents, while their young family increased before they had a settled home; or in instances where, from the remote situations in which the parents lived, they could not so easily educate them. Indeed, the difficulty of getting a suitable education for children, whose parents were ambitious for their improvement, was great; and a family so well regulated as hers, and frequented by such society, was in itself an academy, both for the best morals and manners. When people have children born to them, they must submit to the ordinary lot of humanity; and if they have not the happiness of meeting with many good qualities to cultivate and rejoice over, there is nothing left for them but to exert themselves to the utmost, to reform and ameliorate what will admit of improvement. They must carefully weed and prop: if the soil produce a crop both feeble and redundant, affection will blind them to many defects; imperious duty will stimulate them, and hope, soothing, however deceitful, will support them. But when people have the privilege, as in this case, of choosing a child, they are fairly entitled to select the most promising. This selection, I understood always to have been left to aunt Schuyler, and it appeared, by the event, to have been generally a happy one. Fifteen, either nephews or nieces, or the children of such who had been under her care, all lived to grow up and go out into the world: all acted their parts so as to do credit to the instruction they had received, and the example they looked up to. Besides these, they had many whom they brought for two or three years to their house to reside; either because the family they came from was at the time crowded with younger children, or because they were at a time of life, when a year or two spent in such society as was there assembled, might not only form their manners, but give a bias to their future character.

About the year 1730, they brought home a nephew of the colonel’s whose father having a large family, and having, to the best of my recollection, lost his wife, entirely gave over the boy to the protection of this relation. This boy was his uncle’s god-son, and called Philip, after him. He was a great favourite in the family; for though apparently thoughtless and giddy, he had a very good temper and quick parts, and was, upon the whole, an ingenious, lively, and amusing child. He was a very great favourite, and continued to be so, in some measure, when he grew up.