Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

PART III.

ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE NOBLE SENTIMENTS, HIGH MORAL QUALITIES, AND INTELLECTUAL CAPACITY OF THE IN

DIAN.

Difficulties in the way of improvement not insurmountable-Skenandoah-His conversion and death-Kusick-His love for La Fayette-His pension—His scrupulous honesty and piety-David and Catharine Brown, and the Cherokee nation-Other proofs of the capacity of the race-Their eloquence, bravery, benevolence-Logan, Pushmataha, Red-Jacket, Sequayah, Philip, Pontiac, Tecumthé-Departure of the Wyandots for the West-Their respect for the memory of Harrison-Speech of Colonel Cobb, the Choctaw chief-Attakullaka— Osceola Mr. Jefferson's opinion of the Indian character-Colonel Boyd rescued from death by Siloué-Petalesharro and the Itean captive-The singleness of his motive-His personal appearance at Washington-Receives a medal-His reply to the donors-Letalashahou-Rescue of the Spanish captive.

THE resistance on the part of the Indian to a change of his pursuits, his habits, and his faith, is formidable, and naturally so, and calls for a corresponding power and skill in its management, to overcome it. This resistance is the joint effect of causes, all operating to produce such a result. There is his instinctive and early cherished love of freedom from restraint; his attachment to his mode of life, in which this freedom is indulged in its widest range; his love of the hunter's state; his aversion to toil; his passion for war; his jealousy and dislike of the white man; his doubts in the sincerity, (when these happen to be made,) of his offers of kindness; his attachment to the traditions and religion of his fathers; the influence which dreams and omens have over him; and then there are his views of the future world, and in the objects that are destined to gratify him there, and minister to his eternal happiness—

the whole of these forming one mass of materials, not one of which bears the slightest resemblance to the attachments of the civilized to their condition, or to the faith and hope of the Christian.

If we can comprehend the power that it would require to unhinge all that we cling to, and introduce in its stead an entirely new system of both faith and practice, overturning all that is lovely in our eyes, in our social, political, and moral relations, we may form some tolerable notion of what that system should be, and of the extent of the means to keep it in operation, and of the sort of agencies that would be required to superintend the whole, to produce a reformation in the Indians, lead them to cast aside their habits, remodel their modes of thinking, abandon their faith, and their hopes in the future, and adopt in their places everything new, everything strange, and everything mysterious!

The partial efforts that have, from time to time, been made for the reformation of the Indian, have always resulted, notwithstanding, in a corresponding success; and if time permitted, it were easy to enumerate cases of Indian conversion, followed by lives that bore testimony to the genuineness of the change. I will trespass on your time long enough to furnish a few examples, the first that occur to me.

Who has not heard of the famous Oneida chief, Skenandoah? He whose pathway, for sixty years, had been marked with blood; whose war-whoop had resounded through many a terrified settlement, and until the regions of the Mohawk rang with it; and who was, in all respects, the cruel, the indomitable savage. One would suppose that habits, stiffened by so long a period of indulgence, could not be easily, if at all, softened and remoulded; that the spirit of the warrior having been so long indulged in the practices so congenial to the feelings of the savage, could not be subdued, and made to conform to all that is gentle, and

peaceful, and pious. But all this was effected in the person of this chief. He was awakened under the preaching of the Rev. Mr. Kirkland, and became a convert to the faith of the Christian. The tomahawk, the war-club, and the scalping-knife, fell from his grasp; the desolations which he had produced, he mourned over; he saw, in his mythology, nothing but chimeras; he was penitent—and was forgiven. Nor did he ever abandon the faith he had adopted, but continued a peaceful, faithful, and devoted Christian, until his death, which occurred when he was over a hundred years old.

Awhile previous to his death, a friend calling to see him, and inquiring after his health, received this answer, (which most of you, doubtless, have heard)—"I am an aged hemlock. The winds of a hundred winters have whistled through my branches. I am dead at the top-(referring to his blindness.) Why I yet live, the great, good Spirit only knows. When I am dead, bury me by the side of my minister and friend-(meaning Mr. Kirkland)—that I may go up with him at the great resurrection!" He was accordingly so buried, and I have seen his tomb.

Another case was that of Kusick, chief of the Tuscaroras. He was also an Indian, and had served under La Fayette, in the army of the Revolution. It was usual for him, in company with a few of his leading men, to visit, once in every two or three years, the State of North Carolina, whence his tribe originally came, to see after some claims they had upon that State. In passing through Washington, the old chief would call at my office, for the purpose of submitting his papers, and of counselling with me. On one of these occasions, he made a call before breakfast, at my residence, accompanied by his companions. A neighbor had stepped in to see me, on his way to his office, and our conversation turned on Lady Morgan's France, which had been just then published, and was lying on my table. We spoke of La Fayette. The moment his

name was mentioned, Kusick turned quick upon me his fine black eyes, and asked with great earnestness—

"Is he yet alive? The same La Fayette that was in the Revolutionary war?"

Yes, Kusick, I answered, he is alive; and he is the same La Fayette who was in that war. That book speaks of him as being not only alive, but looking well and hearty. He said, with deep emphasis, “I'm glad to hear it.” Then you knew La Fayette, Kusick?

“Oh, yes,” he answered, “I knew him well; and many a time in the battle, I threw myself between him and the bullets-for I loved him."

Were you in commission?

"Oh, yes,” he replied, "I was a lieutenant; General Washington gave me a commission."

My friend, (who was the late venerable Joseph Nourse, at that time Register of the Treasury,) and myself, agreed to examine the records, and see if the old chief was not entitled to a pension. We (or rather he) did so. All was found to be as Kusick had reported it; when he was put on the pension list.

Some years after, in 1827, when passing through the Tuscarora reserve, on my way to the wilderness, I stopped opposite his log cabin, and walked up to see the old chief. I found him engaged drying fish. After the usual greeting, I asked if he continued to receive his pension.

"No," said the old chief, "no; Congress passed a law making it necessary for me to swear I cannot live without it. Now here is my little log cabin, and it's my own; here's my patch, where I can raise corn, and beans, and pumpkins; and there's Lake Oneida, where I can catch fish. With these I can make out to live without the pension; and to say I could not, would be to lie to the Great Spirit!"

Here was principle, and deep piety; and a lesson for many whose advantages had far exceeded those of this

poor Indian. In connexion with this, I will add another anecdote, in proof of his veneration for the Deity. He breakfasted with me on the morning to which I have referred; and knowing him to be a teacher of the Christian religion among his people, and an interpreter for those who occasionally preached to them, I requested him to ask a blessing. He did so, and in a manner so impressive, as to make me feel that he was deeply imbued with the proper spirit. He employed, in the ceremony, his native Tuscarora. I asked him why, as he spoke very good English, he had asked the blessing in his native tongue? He said, "When I speak English, I am often at a loss for a word. When, therefore, I speak to the Great Spirit, I do not like to be perplexed, or have my mind distracted, to look after a word. When I use my own language, it is like my breath; I am composed." Kusick died an honest man and a Christian; and though an Indian, has doubtless entered into his rest.

I might multiply instances of this kind, beginning with the earliest times when Elliott commenced his labors among the Indians of New England, down to our timesincluding in the long catalogue those beautiful specimens of pure and undefiled religion, as seen in the lives and deaths of David and Catharine Brown, of the Cherokee nation. But we have a large portion of that whole nation to appeal to. The Cherokees, buffeted as they have been, and yet are, present, even in their new wilderness abode, and distracted as they are, the most cheering examples of a most thorough progressive reform; and whilst much remains to be done, there is a controlling mass which promises, at no distant day, to regulate and reform the whole, provided one indispensable element be superadded-what that element is, I will make known at the conclusion of this discourse. This withheld, and the fate of the Indian race is sealed.

The same state of progressive improvement is seen,

« AnteriorContinuar »