Please 
 
 U^9%^1^ J.U.: 1 
 
 3 1153 D1D^73^7 D 
 
 GAYLORD RG 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
i 
 
A XATP/E :\fISSIO>:^ARY OF THE PEQUOT TiUBE 
 ■ OF INDIAKS. 
 
A SON OP THE FOREST, ^^"^ 
 
 ■9.C \ 
 
 THE 
 
 EXPERIENCE 
 
 OF 
 
 WILLIAM APES, 
 
 NATIVE OF THE FOREST. 
 
 WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 
 
 Second Edition, Revised and Corrected. 
 NEW-YORK : 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 G. F. Bunce, Printer. 
 
 1831. 
 
iSoUTHERN DiSTlftcT OF NeW»Y6rK, SS 
 
 T S "R^ ^'^ REMEMBERED, That on the twen» 
 
 ' J> ty-fifth day of Jury, A. D. 1829, in the fifty- 
 third year of the Independence of the United States of 
 America, William Apes of the said District, hath depo- 
 sited in this oifice the title of a book, the right whereof 
 he claims as author, in the words following, to wit : 
 
 "A Son of the Forest. The experience of William 
 Apes, a Native of the Forest. Written by himself. 
 
 In conformity to the Act of Congress of the United 
 States, entitled "An Act for the encouragement of 
 Learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts and 
 Books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, 
 during the time therein mentioned.'' And also to an 
 Act, entitled " An Ac4, supplementary to an Act, enti- 
 tled an A6t for the encouragementiof Learning, by se- 
 curing the copies of Maps, Charts and Books, to the 
 authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times 
 therein mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to 
 the arts of designing, engraving, andetching historical 
 and other prints.'' 
 
 FRED. J. BETTS, 
 Clerk of the Southern Du>trkt of New- Yoxk^ 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 In offering to the public, a second edition 
 of this work, the Author cannot but testify 
 his gratitude for the hberal patronage bestow- 
 ed upon the first edition — notwithstanding 
 the many disadvantages under which it ap- 
 peared. The present edition is greatly im- 
 proved; as well in the printing, as in the 
 arrangement of the work, and the style in 
 which it is written. The first edition, was 
 hurried through the press, in consequence of 
 which, many inaccuracies occurred. 
 
 It has been carefully revised, those parts 
 which some persons deemed objectionable, 
 have been stricken out ; and in its improved 
 form, it is now submitted to the public, with 
 the earnest prayer of the author, that it may 
 be rendered a lasting blessing to every one 
 who may give it even a cursory perusal. 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 William Apes, the author of the follow- 
 ing narrative, was born in the town of Cole- 
 reign, Massachusetts, on the thirty-first of 
 January, in the year of our Lord seventeen 
 hundred and ninety-eight. My grandfather 
 was a white man, and married a female at- 
 tached to the royal family of Philip, king 
 of the Pequod tribe of Indians, so well known 
 in that part of American history, which relates 
 to the wars between the whites and the na- 
 tives. My grandmother was, if I am not 
 misinformed, the king's granddaughter, and 
 a fair and beautiful woman. This statement 
 is given not with a view of appearing great, 
 in the estimation of others — what I would ask, 
 is royal blood — the blood of a king is no 
 better than that of the subject— we are in 
 fact but one family ; we are all the descend- 
 ants of one great progenitor — Adam. I 
 would not boast of my extraction, as I con- 
 sider myself nothing more than a worm of the 
 earth. 
 
 I have given the above account of my origin^ 
 
8 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 with the simple view of narrating the truth as 
 I have received it ; and under the settled con- 
 viction that I must render an account at the 
 last day, to the sovereign Judge of all men, 
 for every word contained in this little book. 
 
 As the story of King Philip, is perhaps 
 generally known, and consequently the histo- 
 ry of the Pequod tribe, over whom he reigned ; 
 it will suffice to say, that he was overcome by 
 treachery, and the goodly heritage occupied 
 by this once happy, powerful, yet peaceful 
 people, was possessed in the process of time, 
 by their avowed enemies the whites, vrho had 
 been welcomed to their land in that spirit of 
 kindness, so peculiar to the red-men of the 
 woods. But the violation of their inherent 
 rights, by those to whom they had extended 
 the hand of friendship, was not the only act 
 of injustice which this oppressed and afflicted 
 nation, was called to suffer at the hands of 
 their white neighbours — alas ! they were sub- 
 ject to a more intense and heart-corroding 
 affliction, that of having their daughters clai- 
 med by the conquerers, and however much 
 subsequent efforts were made to sooth their 
 sorrows, in this particular, they considered 
 the glory of their nation as having departed. 
 (See Appendix.) 
 
 From what I have already stated, it will 
 appear that my father was of mixed blood ; 
 his father being a white man, and his mother 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. . t? 
 
 a native, or in other words, a red wOman. — 
 On attaining a sufficient age to act for himself, 
 be joined the Pequod tribe, to which he was 
 maternally connected. He was well received, 
 and in a short time afterwai'ds, married a fe- 
 male of the tribe, in whose veins a single drop 
 of the white man's blood never flowed. Not 
 long after his marriage, he removed to what 
 was then called the back settlements, direct- 
 ing his course first to the west, and after- 
 wards to the north-east, where he pitched 
 his tent in the woods of a town called Col- 
 reign, near the Connecticut river, in the state 
 of Massachusetts. In this, the place of my 
 birth, he continued some time, and afterwards 
 removed to Colchester, New-London county, 
 Connecticut. At the latter place, our little 
 family lived for nearly three years in compa- 
 rative comfort. 
 
 Circumstances however changed with us, 
 as with many other people, in consequence of 
 which, I was taken together with my two 
 brothers and sisters into my grandfather's 
 family. — One of my uncles dwelt in the same 
 hut. Now my grand parents, were not the 
 best people in the world — like all others, who 
 are wedded to the beastly vice ofintemperance, 
 they would drink to excess whenever they 
 could procure rum, and as usual in such cases, 
 when under the influence of liquor, tl>ey 
 would not only quarrel and fight with each 
 other, but would at times, turn upon their 
 
|0 A SON OP THE FOREST. 
 
 unofTending grand children, and beat them 
 in a most cruel manner. It makes me shudder 
 even at this this time, to think how frequent, 
 and how great have been our sufferings in 
 consequence of tlie introduction of this "cur- 
 sed stuff" into our family — and I could wish, 
 in the sincerity of my soul, that it were ban- 
 ished from our land. 
 
 Our fare was of the poorest kind, and even 
 of this we had not enough — our clothing 
 also was of the worst description : literally 
 speaking, we were clothed with rags, so far 
 only as rags would suffice to cover our naked- 
 ness. We were always contented and happy 
 to get a cold potatoe for our dinner — of this 
 at times we were denied, and many a night 
 have we gone supperless to rest, if stretching 
 our limbs on a bundle of straw, without any 
 covering against the weather, may be called 
 rest. Truly we were in a most deplorable 
 condition. Too young to obtain subsistence 
 for ourselves, by the labour of our hands, and 
 our wants almost totally disregarded by those 
 who should have made every exertion to 
 supply them. Some of our white neighbours 
 however took pity on us, and measurably ad- 
 ministered to our wants, by bringing us fro- 
 zen milk, with which we were glad to satisfy 
 the calls of hunger. We lived in this way 
 for some time, suffering both from cold and 
 hunger. Once in particular, I remember 
 
A SON OF Tiate FOREST. ll 
 
 tliat when it rained very hard, my grandmo- 
 ther put us all down cellar, and when we 
 complained of cold and hunger, she unfeel- 
 ingly bid us dance and thereby warm our- 
 selves — ^butwe had no food of any kind; and 
 one of my sisters, almost died of hunger. — 
 Poor dear girl she was quite overcome. — 
 Young as I was, my very heart bled for her. 
 I merely relate this circumstance, without any 
 embellishment or exaggeration, to show the 
 reader how we were treated. The intensity 
 of our sufferings I cannot tell. Happily we 
 did not continue in this very deplorable 
 condition for a great length of time. Pro- 
 vidence smiled on us, but in a particular 
 manner. 
 
 Our parents quarrelled, parted and went 
 off to a great distance, leaving their helpless 
 children to the care of their grand parents. 
 We lived at this time in an old house, divi- 
 ded into two apartments — one of which was 
 occupied by my uncle. Shortly after my fa- 
 ther left us, my grandmother, who had been 
 out among the whites, returned in a state of 
 intoxication, and without any provocation 
 whatever on my part, began to belabour 
 me most unmercifully with a club ; she asked 
 me if I hated her, and I very innocently an- 
 swered in the affirmative as I did not then 
 know what the word meant, and thought all 
 the while that I was answering aright; and 
 so she continued asking me the same ques- 
 
1^ A SON OF THE FOKEST. 
 
 tiDii, and I as often answered her in the same 
 way, whereupon she continued beating me, 
 by which means one of my arms was broken 
 in three different places. I was then only 
 four years of age, and consequently could 
 not take care of, or defend myself — and I was 
 equally unable to seek safety in flight. But 
 my uncle who lived in the other part of the 
 house, being alarmed for my safety, came 
 down to take me away, when my grandfather 
 made towards him with a fire-brand, but very 
 fortunately he succeeded in rescuing me, and 
 thus saved my life, for had he not come at the 
 time he did, I would most certainly have been 
 killed. My grand parents who acted in this 
 unfeeling and cruel manner, were by my mo- 
 ther's side — those by my father's side, were 
 christians, lived and died happy in the love 
 of God ; and if I continue faithful in impro- 
 ving that measure of grace, with which God 
 hath blessed me, I expect to meet them in a 
 world of unmingled and ceaseless joys. But 
 to return '. — 
 
 The next morning when it was discovered 
 that I had been most dangerously injured, 
 my uncle determined to make the whites ac- 
 quainted with my condition. He accord- 
 ingly went to a Mr. Furman, the person 
 who had occasionally furnished us with milk, 
 and tlie good man came immediately to see 
 me. He found me dreadfully beaten, and 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 13 
 
 the Other children in a state of absolute suf- 
 fering; and as he was extremely anxious thai 
 something should be done for our relief, he 
 applied to the selectmen of the town in our 
 behalf, who after duly considering the ap- 
 plication, adjudged that we should be sev- 
 erally taken and bound out. Being en- 
 tirely disabled in consequence of the wounds 
 I had received, I was supported at the ex- 
 pense of the town for about twelve months. 
 
 When the selectmen were called in, they 
 ordered me to be carried to Mr. Furman's — 
 where I received the attention of two sur- 
 geons. Some considerable time elapsed be- 
 fore my arm w as set, which was consequent-? 
 ly very sore, and during this painful operas 
 tion I scarcely murmured. Now this dear 
 man and family were sad on my account. 
 Mrs. Furman was a kind, benevolent and 
 tender hearted lady — from her I received 
 the best possible care : had it been other- 
 wise I believe that I could not have lived. 
 It pleased God however to support me. 
 The great patience that I manifested I at- 
 tribute mainly to my improved situation. 
 Before, I was almost always naked, or cold, 
 or hungry — now, I was comfortable with 
 the exception of my wounds. 
 
 In view of this treatment, I presume that 
 the reader will exclaim, '' what savages 
 your grand parents were to treat unoffend- 
 
 2 
 
14 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 ing, helpkis children in this cruel manner.'* 
 But this cruel and unnatural conduct was 
 the effect of some cause. I attribute it in a 
 great measure to the whites, inasmuch as 
 they introduced among my coutrymen, that 
 bane of comfort and happiness, ardent spir- 
 its — seduced them into a love of it, and when 
 under its unhappy influence, wronged 
 them out of their lawful possessions — that 
 land, where reposed the ashes of their sires; 
 and not only so, but they committed violence 
 of the most revolting kind upon the persons 
 of the female portion of the tribe, who pre- 
 vious to the introduction among them of the 
 arts, and vices, and debaucheries of the 
 whites, were as unoffending and happy as 
 they roamed over their goodly possessions, 
 as any people on whom the sun of heaven 
 ever shown. The consequence was, that they 
 were scattered abroad. Now many of them 
 were seen reeling about intoxicated with 
 liquor, neglecting to provide for themselves 
 and families, who before were assiduously 
 engaged in supplying the necessities of those 
 depending on them for support. I do not 
 make this statement in order to justify those 
 who had treated me so unkindly, but simply 
 to shew, that inasmuch as I was thus treated 
 only when they were under the influence of 
 spiritous liquor, that the whites were justly 
 chargeable with at least some portion of my 
 sufferings. 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 15 
 
 After I had been nursed for about twelve 
 months, I had so far recovered that it was 
 deemed expedient to bind me out, until I 
 should attain the age of twenty^one years. 
 Mr. Furman the person with whom the se- 
 lectmen had placed me was a poor man, a 
 cooper by trade, and obtained his living by 
 the labour of his hands. As I was only five 
 years old, he at first thought that his cir- 
 cumstances would not justify him in keeping 
 me, as it would be some considerable time 
 before I could render him much service. 
 But such was the attachment of the family 
 towards me, that he came to the conclusion 
 to keep me until I was of age, and he fur- 
 ther agreed to give me so much instruction 
 as would enable me to read and write. Ac- 
 cordingly, when I attained my sixth year, I 
 was sent to school, and continued for six 
 successive winters — during this time I learn- 
 ed to read and write, though not so well 
 as I could have wished. This was all the 
 instruction of the kind I ever received — 
 Small and imperfect as was the amount of 
 the knowledge I obtained, yet in view of the 
 advantages I have thus derived, I bless God 
 for it. 
 
i6 A SON 0%' THE POKEST* 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I believe that it is assumed as a fact among 
 divines, that the Spirit of divine truth, in the 
 boundless diversity of its operations, visits 
 the mind of every intelligent being, born 
 into the world — but the time when, is only 
 fully known to the Almighty and the soul 
 which is the object of the Holy Spirit's en- 
 lightening influence. It is also conceded on 
 all hands, that the Spirit of Truth operates 
 on different minds, in a variety of ways — 
 but always with the design of convincing 
 man of sin and of a judgment to come. 
 And oh ! that men would regard their real 
 interests and yield to the illuminating influ- 
 ences of the Spirit of God — then wretched- 
 Hess and misery would abound no longer, 
 but every thing of the kind give place, to 
 the pure principles of peace, godliness, 
 brotherly kindness, meekness, charity and 
 love. These graces are spontaneously pro- 
 duced in the human heart, and are exempli- 
 fied in the christian deportment of every soul 
 under the mellowing and sanctifying influ- 
 ences of the Spirit of God. They are the 
 peaceable fruits of a meek and quiet spirit. 
 
 The perverseness of maji in this respect, is 
 one of the great and conclusive proofs of his 
 apostacy, and of the rebellious inclination 
 
A SON OP THE FOEEST. 17 
 
 of his unsanctified heart to the will and wis- 
 dom of his Creator and his judge. 
 
 I have heard a great deal said respecting 
 infants feeling as it were the operations of the 
 Holy Spirit on their minds, impressing them 
 with a sense of their wickedness and the ne- 
 cessity of a preparation for a future state. 
 Children at a very early age manifest in a 
 strong degree two of the evil passions of our 
 nature — anger and jpride. We need not won- 
 der, therefore, that persons in early life, feel 
 good impressions ; indeed, it is a fact too 
 well established to admit of doubt or contro- 
 versy, that many children have manifested a 
 strength of intellect far above their years, 
 and have given ample evidence of a good 
 work of grace manifest by the influence of 
 the Spirit of God in their young and tender 
 minds. But this is perhaps attributable to 
 the care and attention bestowed upon them. 
 
 If constant and judicious means are used 
 to impress upon their young and suscepti- 
 ble minds, sentiments of truth, virtue, mo- 
 rality, and religion, and these efforts are sus- 
 tained by a corresponding practice on the 
 part of parents or those who strive to make 
 these early impressions, we may rationally 
 trust that as their young minds expand, they 
 will be led to act upon the wholesome prin- 
 ciples they have received — and that at a very 
 early period these good impressions will be 
 2* 
 
is A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 moi'e indelibly engraved on their hearts by 
 the co-operating influences of that Spirit, who 
 in the days of his glorious incarnation, said, 
 " suffer little children to come unto me, and 
 forbid them notj for of sUch is the kingdom 
 of heaven." 
 
 But to my experience, and the reader 
 knows full well that experience is the best 
 schoolmaster : for, what we have expe- 
 rienced, that we know, and all the world 
 cannot possibly beat it out of us. I well re- 
 member the conversation that took place 
 between Mrs. Furman and myself when I 
 was about six years of age, she was attached 
 to the Baptist church, and was esteemed as 
 a Very pious woman. Of this I have not the 
 shadow of a doubt, as her whole course of 
 conduct was upright and exemplary. On 
 this occasion, she spoke to"^ me respecting a 
 future state of existence, and told me that I 
 might die, and enter upon it, to which I 
 replied that I was too young — that old people 
 only died. But she assured me that I was 
 not too young, and in order to convince me 
 of the truth of the observation, she referred 
 me to the grave yard, where many younger 
 and smaller persons than myself were laid 
 to moulder in the earth. I had of course 
 nothing to say — but, notwithstanding, I could 
 not fully comprehend the nature of death, 
 and the meaning of a future state, yet I (eli 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 19 
 
 ah indescribable sensation pass through my 
 frame, I trembled and was sore afraid, and 
 for some time endeavoured to hide myself 
 from the destroying monster, but I could find 
 no place of refuge. The conversation and 
 pious admonitions of this good lady made a 
 lasting impression upon my mind. At times, 
 however, this impression appeared to be 
 wearing away — then again I would become 
 thoughtful, make serious inquiries, and seem 
 anxious to know something more certain re- 
 specting myself, and that state of existence 
 beyond the grave, in which I was instructed 
 to believe. About this time I was taken to 
 meeting in order to hear the word of God, and 
 receive instruction in divine thinsrs. This was 
 the first time I had ever entered a house of 
 worship, and instead of attending to what the 
 minister said, I was employed in gazing about 
 the house, or playing with the unruly boys, 
 with whom I was seated in the gallery. On 
 my return home, Mr. Furman, who had been 
 apprised of my conduct, told me that I had 
 acted very wrong. He did not however stop 
 here. He went on to tell me how I ought 
 to behave in church, and to this very day I 
 bless God for such wholesome and timely 
 instruction. In this particular I was not 
 slow to learn, as 1 do not remember that 
 I have from that day to this, misbehaved in 
 the house of God. 
 
20 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 It may not be improper to remark in this 
 place, that a vast proportion of the miscon- 
 duct of yomig people in church, is chargea- 
 ble to their parents and guardians. It is to 
 be feared that there are too many professing 
 christians who feel satisfied if their children 
 or those under their care enter on a sabbath 
 day within the walls of the sanctuary, without 
 reference to their conduct while there. I 
 would have such persons seriously ask them- 
 selves whether they think they discharge 
 the duties obligatory on them by the relation 
 in which they stand to their Maker, as well 
 as those committed to their care, by so much 
 negligence on their part. The christian 
 feels it a duty imposed on him to conduct his 
 children to the house of God. But he rests 
 not here. He must have an eye over them, 
 and if they act well, approve and encourage 
 them ; if otherwise, point out to them their 
 error, and persuade them to observe a dis- 
 creet and exemplary course of conduct while 
 in church. 
 
 After a while I became very fond of at- 
 tending on the word of God — then again I 
 would meet the enemy of my soul, who 
 would strive to lead me away, and in many 
 instances he was but too successful, and to 
 this day I remember that nothing scarcely 
 grieved me so much, when my mind had 
 been thus petted, than to be called by a 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. ^ 
 
 nick name. If I was spoken to in the spirit 
 of kindness, I would be instantly disarmed 
 of my stubborness, and ready to perform 
 any thing required of me. I know of nothing 
 so trying to a child as to be repeatedly 
 called by an improper name. I thought it 
 disgraceful to be called an Indian ; it was 
 considered as a slur upon an oppressed and 
 scattered nation, and I have often been led 
 to inquire where the whites received this 
 word, which they so often threw as an op- 
 probrious epithet at the sons of the for- 
 est. I could not find it in the bible, and 
 therefore concluded, that it was a word im- 
 ported for the special purpose of degrading 
 us. At other times I thought it was derived 
 from the term in-gen-uity. But the proper 
 term which ought to be applied to our nation, 
 to distinguish it from the rest of the human 
 family, is that of " Natives^^ — and I humbly 
 conceive that the natives of this country are 
 the only people under heaven who have a 
 just title to the name, inasmuch as we are 
 the only people who retain the original com- 
 plexion of our father Adam* Notwith- 
 standing my thoughts on this matter, so 
 completely was I weaned from the interests 
 and affections of my brethren, that a mere 
 threat of being sent away among the Indians 
 into the dreary woods, had a much better 
 effect in making me obedient to the com- 
 mands of my superiors, than any corporea! 
 
32 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 punishment that they ever inflicted. I had 
 received a lesson in the unnatural treatment 
 of my own relations, which could not be 
 effaced; and I thought that if those who 
 should have loved and protected me, treated 
 me with such unkindness, surely I had no 
 reason to expect mercy or favour at the 
 hands of those who knew me in no other re- 
 lation than that of a cast-off member of the 
 tribe. A threat, of the kind alluded to, 
 invariably produced obedience on my part, 
 so far as I understood the nature of the 
 command. 
 
 I cannot perhaps give a better idea of the 
 dread which prevaded my mind on seeing 
 -v' any of my brethren of the forest, than by re- 
 lating the following occurence. One day 
 several of the family went into the woods to ga- 
 ther berries, taking me with them. We had 
 not been out long before we fell in with a com- 
 pany of white females, on the same errand — 
 their complexion was, to say the least, as 
 darlc as that of the natives. This circum- 
 stance filled my mind with terror, and I 
 broke from the party with my utmost speed, 
 and I could not muster courage enough to 
 look behind until I had reg^ched home. By 
 this time my imagination had pictured out a 
 tale of blood, and as soon as I regained 
 breath suflicient to answer the questions 
 which my master asked, I informed him that 
 we had met a body of the natives in the 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST^. 23 
 
 woods, but what had become of the party I 
 couid not tell. Notwithstanding the manifest 
 incredibility of my tale of terror, Mr. Fur- 
 man was agitated ; my very appearance was 
 sufficient to convince him that I had been 
 terrified by something, and summoning the 
 remainder of the family, he sallied out in 
 quest of the absent party, whom he found 
 searching for me among the bushes. The 
 whole mystery was soon unravelled. It 
 may be proper for me here to remark, that 
 the great fear I entertained of my brethren, 
 was occasioned by the many stories I had 
 heard of their cruelty towards the whites — 
 how they were in the habit of killing and 
 scalping men, women and children. But the 
 whites did not tell me that they were in a 
 great majority of instances the aggressors — 
 that they had imbrued their hands in the life 
 blood of my brethren, driven them from their 
 once peaceful and happy homes — that they 
 introduced among them the fatal and exter- 
 minating diseases of civilized life. If the 
 whites had told me how cruel they had been 
 to the " poor Indian," I should have appre- 
 hended as much harm from them. 
 
 Shortly after this occurrence I relapsed 
 into my former bad habits — was fond of the 
 company of the boys, and in a short time 
 lost in a great measure that spirit of obedi- 
 ence which had made me the favourite of 
 
24 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 my mistress. I was easily led astray, and, 
 once in particular, I was induced by a boy, 
 ^my senior by five or six years) to assist 
 him in his depredations on a water melon 
 patch belonging to one of the neighbours. 
 But we were found out, and my companion 
 in wickedness led me deeper in sin, by per- 
 suading me to deny the crime laid to our 
 charge. I obeyed liim to the very letter, 
 and when accused, flatly denied knowing 
 any thing of the matter. The boasted cour^ 
 age of the boy, however, began to fail as 
 soon as he saw danger thicken, and he con- 
 fessed it as strongly as he had denied it. 
 The man from whom we had pillaged the 
 melons threatened to send us to Newgate, 
 but he relented. The story shortly after- 
 ward reached the ears of the good Mrs. 
 Furman, who talked seriously to me about 
 it. She told me that I could be sent to 
 prison for it — that I had done wrong, and 
 gave me a great deal of wholesome advice. 
 This had a much better effect than forty 
 floggings — it sunk so deep into my mind that 
 the impression can never be effaced. 
 
 1 now went on without difficulty for a few 
 months, when I was assailed by fresh and un- 
 expected troubles. One of the girls belong- 
 ing to the house had taken some ofience at 
 me, and declared she would be revenged. 
 The better to effect this end, she told Mr. 
 
A SON OF THE FOEEST. 25 
 
 Furman that I had not only threatened to 
 kill her, but had actually pursued her with 
 a knife, whereupon he came to the place 
 where I was working and began to whip me 
 severely. I could not tell for what. I told 
 him I had done no harm, to which he re- 
 plied, "I will learn you, you Indian dog, 
 how to chase people with a knife.*' I told 
 hira I had not, but he would not believe me, 
 and continued to whip me for a long while. 
 But the poor man soon found out his 
 error, as after he had flogged me, he un- 
 dertook to investigate the matter, when to 
 his amazement he discovered it was nothing 
 but fiction, as all the children assured him 
 that I did no such thing. He regretted be- 
 ing so hasty — but I saw wherein the great 
 difficulty consisted, if I had not denied the 
 melon aflair, he would have believed me, 
 but as I had uttered an untruth about that, it 
 was natural for him to think that the person 
 who will tell one lie, will not scruple at two. 
 For a lone: while after this circumstance 
 transpired, I did not associate with my com- 
 panions. 
 
96 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 About the time that I had attained my eighth 
 year a sect called the Christians visited our 
 neighbourhood. Their hearts were warm in 
 the cause of God — they were earnest and 
 fervent in prayer, and I took great delight 
 in hearing them sing the songs of Zion. 
 Whenever I attended their meetings, which 
 I did as often as possible, I listened to the 
 word of God with the greatest degree of at- 
 tention. It was not long before I resolved 
 io mend my ways and become a better boy. 
 By my strict attendance on divine worship 
 and my orderly behaviour, I attracted the 
 notice of some of the people, who, when they 
 discovered that I was seriously impressed, 
 took me by the hand, and strove by every 
 possible means to cheer and encourage me. 
 The notice thus taken of me had a very hap- 
 py influence on my mind. I now determin- 
 ed to set about the work of repentance. On 
 one occasion the minister addressed the peo- 
 ple from a text touching the future state of 
 mankind. <* 
 
 He spoke much on the eternal happiness of 
 the righteous, and the everlasting misery of 
 the ungodly, and his observations sunk with 
 awful weight upon my mind, and I was led 
 to make many serious inquiries about the 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 27 
 
 way of salvation. In these days of young 
 desires and youthful aspirations, I found Mrs. 
 Furman ever ready to give me good advice. 
 My mind was intent upon learning the lesson 
 of righteousness, in order that I might walk 
 in the good way, and cease to do evil. My 
 mind for one so young was greatly drawn 
 out to seek the Lord. This spirit was 
 manifested in my daily walk ; and the 
 friends of Christ noticed my afflictions ; they 
 knew that I was sincere because my spirits 
 were depressed. When I was in church I 
 could not at times avoid giving vent to my 
 feelings, and often have I wept sorely before 
 the Lord and his people. They of course, 
 observed this change in my conduct — they 
 knew I had been a rude child, and that ef- 
 forts were made to bring me up in a proper 
 manner, but the change in my deportment 
 they did not ascribe to the influence of divine 
 grace, inasmuch as they all considered me 
 too young to be impressed with a sense of 
 divine things. They were filled with unbelief. 
 I need not describe the peculiar feelings of 
 my soul. 
 
 I became very fond of attending meetings ; 
 so much so that Mr. Furman forbid me. He 
 supposed that I only went for the purpose of 
 seeing the boys and playing with them. This 
 thing caused me a great deal of grief; I 
 went for many days with my head and heart 
 
28 A SON OP THE FOREST. 
 
 bowed down. No one had any idea of the 
 mental agony I suffered, and perhaps the 
 mind of no untutored child of my age was 
 ever more seriously exercised. Sometimes 
 I was tried and tempted— then I would 
 be overcome by the fear of death. By day 
 and by night I was in a continual ferment. 
 To add to my fears about this time, death 
 entered the family of Mr. Furman and re^ 
 moved his mother-in-law. I was much af- 
 fected, as the old lady was the first corpse I 
 hiad ever seen. She had always been so kind 
 :to me that I missed her quite as much as her 
 children, and I had been allowed to call her 
 mother. 
 
 Shortly after this occurrence 1 was taken 
 \W I then thought that I should surely die. 
 The distress of body and the anxiety of 
 mind wore me down. Now 1 think that the 
 disease with which I was afflicted was a 
 very curious one* The physician could 
 not actount for it, and how should I be able 
 to do it ; neither had those who were about 
 me ever witnessed any disorder of the kind. 
 1 felt continually as if I was about being 
 suffocated, and was consequently a great 
 deal of trouble to the family, as some one 
 had to be with me* One day Mr. Furman 
 thought he would frighten the disease out of 
 me. Accordingly he told me that all that 
 ailed me was this — that the devil had taken 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 29 
 
 complete possession of me, and that he was 
 determined to flog him out. This threat had 
 not the desired effect. One night, however, 
 I got up, and went out, although I was 
 afraid to be alone, and continued out by the 
 door until after the family had retired to 
 bed. After a while Mr. F. got up and gave 
 me a dreadful whipping. He really thought, 
 I believe that the devil was in me, and sup- 
 posed that the birch was the best mode of 
 ejecting him. But the flogging was as fruit- 
 less as the preceeding threat in the accom- 
 plishment of his object, and he, poor man, 
 found out his mistake, like many others who 
 act without discretion. 
 
 One morning after this I went out in the 
 yard to assist Mrs. Furman milk the cows. 
 We had not been out long before I felt very 
 singular, and began to make a strange noise. 
 I believed that I was going to die, and ran 
 up to the house; she followed me iramedi- 
 diately, expecting me to breathe my last. 
 Every effort to breathe was accompanied by 
 this strange noise, which was so loud as to 
 be heard a considerable distance. However, 
 contrary to all expectation I began to re- 
 vive, and from that very day my disorder 
 began to abate, and I gradually regained 
 my former health. 
 
 Soon after I recovered from my sickness, 
 I went astray, associating again with my old 
 
 3* 
 
30 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 school fellows, and on some occasions pro- 
 faning the sabbath day. I did not do thus 
 without warning, as conscience would speak 
 to me when I did wrong. Nothing very ex- 
 traordinary occurred until I had attained 
 my eleventh year. At this time it was 
 fashionable for boys to run away, and the 
 wicked one put it into the head of the oldest 
 boy on the farm to persuade me to follow the 
 fashion. He told me that I could take care 
 of myself, and get my own living. I thought 
 it was a very pretty notion to be a man — to 
 do business for myself and become rich* 
 Like a fool I concluded to make the experi- 
 ment, and accordingly began to pack up my 
 clothes as deliberately as could be, and in 
 which my adviser assisted. I had been once 
 or twice at New London, where I saw, as I 
 thought, every thing wonderful: thither I 
 determined to bend my course, as I expect- 
 ed, that on reaching the town I should be 
 metamorphosed into a person of conse- 
 quence ; I had the world and every thing 
 my little heart could desire in a string, when 
 behold, my companion who had persuaded 
 me to act thus, informed my master that I 
 was going to run ofi'. At first he would not 
 believe the boy, but my clothing already 
 packed up was ample evidence of my inten- 
 tion. On being questioned I acknowledged 
 the fact. I did not wish to leave them — told 
 Mv Furnian so ; he believed me, but thought 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 31 
 
 best that for a while I should have another 
 master. He accordingly agreed to transfer 
 my indentures to Judge Hillhouse for the 
 sum of twenty dollars. Of course after the 
 bargain was made, my consent was to be o"b- 
 tained, but I was as unwilling to go now, as 
 I had been anxious to run away before. Af- 
 ter some persuasion, I agreed to try it for a 
 fortnight, on condition that I should take my 
 dog with me, and my request being granted, 
 I was soon under the old man's roof, as he 
 only lived about six miles off. Here every 
 thing was done to make me contented, be- 
 cause they thought to promote their own in- 
 terests by securing my services. They fed 
 me with nicknacks, and soon after I went 
 among them, I had a jack knife presented to 
 me, which was the first one I had ever seen. 
 Like other boys, I spent my time either in 
 whittling or playing with my dog, and was 
 withal very happy. But I was home sick 
 at heart, and as soon as my fortnight had 
 expiried, I went home without ceremony. 
 Mr. Furman's family w^re surprized to see 
 me, but that surprise was mutual satisfac- 
 tion in which my faithful dog appeared to 
 participate. 
 
 The joy I felt on returning home as 1 
 hoped, was turned to sorrow on being in- 
 formed that I had been sold to the judge, 
 and must instantly return. This I v, as com- 
 
82 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 pelled to do. And reader, all this sorrow 
 was in consequence of being led away by a 
 bad boy : if I had not listened to him I should 
 not have lost my home. Such treatment I 
 conceive to be the best means to accomplish 
 the ruin of a child, as the reader will see in 
 the sequel. I was sold to the judge at a time 
 when age had rendered him totally unfit to 
 manage an unruly lad. If he undertook to 
 correct me, which he did at times, I did not 
 regard it as I knew that I could run off from 
 him if he was too severe, and besides I could 
 do what I pleased in defiance of his authority. 
 Now the old gentleman was a member of 
 the Presbyterian church, and withal a very 
 strict one. He never neglected family prayer, 
 and he always insisted on my being present. 
 I did not believe, or rather had no faith in 
 his prayer, because it was the same thing 
 from day to day, and I had heard it repeated 
 so often, that I knew it as well as he. Al- 
 though I was so young, I did not think that 
 Christians ought to learn their prayers, and 
 knowing that he repeated the same thing 
 from day to day, is I have no doubt, the very 
 reason why his petitions did me no good. I 
 could fix no value on his prayers. 
 
 After a little while the conduct of my new 
 guardians was changed towards me. Once 
 secured I was no longer the favourite. The 
 few clothes I had were not taken care of, by 
 
A SON OP THE FOREST. 33 
 
 which I mean, no pains were taken to keep 
 them clean and whole, and the consequence 
 was that in a little time they were all "tat- 
 tered and torn," and I was not fit to be seen 
 in decent company. I had not the opportu- 
 nity of attending meeting as before. Yet as 
 the divine and reclaiming impression had 
 not been entirely defaced, I would frequent- 
 ly i^tire behind the barn, and attempt to 
 pray in my weak manner. I now became 
 quite anxious to attend evening meetings a 
 few miles off: I asked the judge if I should 
 go and take one of the horses, to which he 
 consented* This promise greatly delighted 
 me — -but when it was time for me to go, all 
 my hopes were dashed at once, as the judge 
 had changed his mind. 1 tvas not to be foil- 
 ed so easily ; I watched the first opportunity 
 and slipped off with one of the horses, 
 reached the meeting, and returned in safety. 
 Here 1 was to blame ; if he acted wrong, it 
 did not justify me in doing so ; but being suc- 
 cessful in one grand act of disobedience, I 
 w^as encouraged to make another similar at- 
 tempt, whenever my unsanctified disposi- 
 tions prompted ; for the very next time I 
 wished to go to meeting, I thought I would 
 take the horse again, and in the same manner 
 too, without the knowledge of my master. 
 As he was by some means apprized of my 
 intention, he prevented my doing so, and had 
 
34 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 the horses locked up in the stable. He then 
 commanded me to give him the bridle ; I 
 was obstinate for a time, then threw it at 
 the old gentleman, and run off. I did not 
 return until the next day, when I received a 
 flogging for my bad conduct, which de- 
 termined me to run away. Now the judge 
 was partly to blame for all this. He had in 
 the first place treated me with the utmost 
 kindness until he had made sure of me. 
 Then the whole course of his conduct 
 changed, and I believed he fulfilled only one 
 item of the transferred indentures, and that 
 was work. Of this there was no lack. To 
 be sure I had enough to eat, such as it was, 
 but he did not send me to fchobl as he 
 had. promised. 
 
 A few days found me on my was to New- 
 London, where I staid awhile. I then 
 pushed on to Waterford, and as my father 
 lived about twenty miles ofl*, J concluded to 
 go and see him. I got there safely, and told 
 him I had come on a visit, and that I should 
 stay one week. At the expiration of the 
 week he bid me go home, and I obeyed him. 
 On my return I was treated rather coolly, 
 and this not suiting my disposition, I run off 
 ^gain, but returned in a few days\. Now, as 
 the judge found he could not control me, 
 he got heartily tired of me, and wished to 
 hand me over to some one else, so he ob" 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 35 
 
 talned a place for me in New London. I 
 knew nothing of it, and I was greatly mor- 
 tified to think that I was sold in this way. 
 If my consent had been solicited as a matter 
 of form, I should not have felt so bad. But 
 to be sold to, and treated unkindly, by those 
 who had got our father's lands for nothing, 
 was too much to bear. When all things 
 were ready, the judge told me that he wanted 
 me to go to New London with a neighbour, 
 to purchase salt. I was delighted, and went 
 with the man, expecting to return that night. 
 When I reached the place I found my mis- 
 take. The name of the person to whom I 
 was transferred this time, was Gen. William 
 Williams, and as my treatment at the Judge's 
 was none of the best, I went home with him 
 contentedly. Indeed I felt glad that I had 
 changed masters, and more especially that I 
 was to reside in the city. The finery and 
 show caught my eye, and captivated my 
 heart. I can truly say that my situation was 
 better now than it had been previously to 
 my residence in New London. In a little 
 time I was furnished with good new clothes. 
 1 had enough to eat, both as it respects 
 quality and quantity, and my work was light. 
 The whole family treated me kindly, and 
 the only difficulty of moment was that they 
 all wished to be masters. But I would not 
 obey all of them. There was a French boy 
 
36 A SON or THE FOREST. 
 
 in the family, who one day told Mr. Williams 
 a wilful lie about me, which he believed, 
 and gave me a horse-whipping, without ask- 
 ing me a single question about it. Now I da 
 not suppose that he whipped so much on 
 account of what the boy told him, as he did 
 from the influence of the Judge's directions. 
 He used the falsehood as a pretext for 
 flogging me as from what he said he was 
 determined to make a good boy of me at 
 once — as if stripes were calculated to efiect 
 that which love, kindness and instruction 
 can only succesfully accomplish. He told 
 me that if lever run away from him he 
 would follow me to the uttermost parts of 
 the earth. I knew from this observation that 
 the Judge had told him that I was a runaway. 
 However cruel this treatment appeared, for 
 the accusation was false, yet it did me much 
 good, as I was ready to obey the general 
 and his lady at all times. But I could 
 not and would not obey any but my supe- 
 riors. In short, I got on very smoothly for 
 a season. 
 
 The general attended the Presbyterian 
 church, and was exact in having all his family 
 with him in the house of God. I of course 
 formed one of the number. Though I did 
 not profess religion, I observed and felt that 
 their ways were not like the ways of the 
 Christians. It appeared inconsistent to me 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 37 
 
 for a minister to read his sermon — to turn 
 over leaf after leaf, and at the conclusion say 
 *'amen," seemed to me like an "empty sound 
 and a tinkling cymbal." I was not benefitted 
 by his reading. It did not arouse me to a 
 sense of my danger — and I am of the opinion 
 that it had no better eflect on the people of 
 his charge. I liked to attend church, as I 
 had been taught in my younger years to 
 venerate the Sabbath day; and although 
 young I could plainly perceive the difference 
 between the preachers I had formerly heard 
 and the minister at whose church I attended. 
 I thought, as near as I can remember, that 
 the Christian depended on the Holy Spirit's 
 influence entirely, while this minister de- 
 pended as much upon his learning. I would 
 not be understood as saying any thing against 
 knowledge ; in its place it is good, and highly 
 necessary to a faithful preacher of righteous- 
 ness. What I object to is, placing too much 
 reliance in it, making a god of it, he. 
 
 Every thing went on smoothly for two or 
 three years. About this time the Methodists 
 began to hold meetings in the neighbour- 
 hood, and consequently a storm of persecu- 
 tion gathered ; the pharisee and the worldling 
 united heartily in abusing them. The gall 
 and wormwood of sectarian malice wei'e 
 emitted, and every evil report prejudicial to 
 this pious people was freely circulated. And 
 
 4 
 
38 A SOTM or* THE I'OKEST. 
 
 it was openly said that the character of a 
 respecable man would receive a stain, and 
 a deep one too, by attending one of their 
 meetings. Indeed the stories circulated about 
 them were bad enough to deter people of 
 "character!" from attending the Methodist 
 ministry. But it had no effect on me. I 
 thought I had no character to lose in the es- 
 timation of those who were accounted great. 
 For what cared they for me? They had 
 possession of the red man's inheritance, and 
 had deprived me of liberty; with this they 
 were satisfied, and could do as they pleased ; 
 therefore, I thought I could do as I pleased, 
 measurably. I therefore went to hear the 
 noisy MetliocKsts. When I reached the house 
 I found a clever company. They did not 
 appear to differ much from " respectable" 
 people. They were neatly and decently 
 clothed, and I could not see that they dif- 
 fered from other people except in their be- 
 haviour, which was more kind and gentle- 
 manly. Their countenance was heavenly, 
 their songs were like sweetest music — in 
 their manners they were plain. Their lan- 
 guage was not fashioned aftei' the wisdom of 
 men. When the minister preached he spoke 
 as one having authority. The exercises 
 were accompanied by the power of God. 
 His people shouted for joy — while sinners 
 wept. This being the first time I had evey 
 
A SON OP THE FOREST. 39 
 
 attended a meeting of this kind, all things of 
 course appeared new to me. I was very 
 far from forming the opinion that most of 
 the neighbom-hood entertained about them. 
 From this time I became more serious, and 
 soon went to hear the Methodists again, and 
 1 was constrained to believe that they were 
 the true people of God. One person asked 
 me how I knew it? I replied that I was 
 convinced in my own mind that they pos- 
 sessed something more than the power of the 
 devil. 
 
 I now attended these meetings constantly, 
 and although I was a sinner before God, 
 yet I felt no disposition to laugh or scoff. 
 I make this observation because so many 
 people went to these meetings to make fun. 
 This was a common thing, and I often won- 
 dered how persons who professed to be con- 
 sidered great, i. e. "ladies and gentlemen," 
 would so far disgrace themselves as to scoff 
 in the house of God, and at his holy services. 
 Such persons let themselves dow^i below the 
 heathen, in point of moral conduct — below 
 the heathen, yes, and below the level of the 
 brute creation, who answer the end for which 
 they were made. 
 
 But notwithstanding the people were so 
 wicked, the Lord had respect unto the la- 
 bours of his servants; his ear was open to 
 their daily supplications, and in answer to 
 
40 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 prayer he was pleased to revive his work. 
 The power of the Holy Ghost moved forth 
 among the people — the spirit's influence was 
 felt at every meeting — the people of God 
 were built up in their faith — their confidence 
 in the Lord of hosts gathered strength, 
 while many sinners were alarmed, and began 
 to cry aloud for mercy. In a little time the 
 work rolled onward like an overwhelming 
 flood. Now the Methodists and all who 
 attended their meetings were greatly per- 
 secuted. All denominations were up in 
 arms against them, because the Lord was 
 blessing their labours and making them (a 
 poor despised people) his instruments in 
 the conversion of sinners. But all oppo- 
 sition had no other effect than of cementing 
 the brethren more closely together ; the work 
 went on, as the Lord was with them of a 
 truth, and signally owned and blessed their 
 labours. At one of these meetings I was 
 induced to laugh, I believe it must have 
 been to smother my conviction, as it did 
 not come from ray heart. My heart was 
 troubled on account of sin, and when con- 
 viction pressed upon me, I endeavoured not 
 **Qnly to be cheerful, but to laugh ; and thus 
 drive away all appearance of being wrought 
 upon. Shortly after this I was affected even 
 unto tears. This the people of the world 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 41 
 
 ol3served and immediately inquired if I was 
 one of the Lamb's children. Brother Hill 
 wa'S then speaking from this passage of 
 scripture — Behold the Lamb of God, that 
 t-aJceth nvjay the sins of the world. He spoke 
 feelingly of his sufferings upon the cross — 
 of the precious blood that flowed like a puri- 
 fying river from his side — of his sustaining 
 tlie accumulated weight of the sins of the 
 whole world, and dying to satisfy the de- 
 mands of that justice which could only be 
 appeased by an infinite atonement. I felt 
 convinced that Christ died for all mankind — 
 that age, sect, colour, countr}^, or situation, 
 made no difference. I felt an assurance 
 that I was included in the plan of redemp- 
 tion with all my brethren. No one can con- 
 ceive with what ]oy I hailed this neiv doc- 
 trine as it was called — It removed every ex- 
 cuse, and I freely believed that all I had to do 
 was to look in faith upon the Lamb of God 
 that made himself a free-will oflering for my 
 unregenerate and wicked soul upon the cross. 
 My spirits were depressed — my crimes were 
 arrayed before me, and no tongue can tell 
 the anguish I felt. 
 
 After meeting I returned home with a 
 heavy heart, determined to seek the salva- 
 tion of my soul. This night I slept but little 
 -—at times I would be melted down to ten- 
 derness and tears, and then again my heart 
 
 4* 
 
42 A SON OP THE FOREST. 
 
 would seem as bard as adamant. I was 
 greatly tempted. The evil one would try 
 to persuade me that I was not in the pale of 
 mercy. I fancied that evil spirits stood 
 around my bed — my condition was deplora- 
 bly awful — and I longed for the day to break, 
 as much as the tempest tost mariner who ex- 
 pects every moment to be washed from the 
 wreck to which he fondly clings. So it was 
 with me upon the wreck of the world — 
 buffetted by temptations — assailed by the 
 devil — sometimes in despair — then believing 
 against hope. My heart seemed at times 
 almost ready to break, while the tears of 
 contrition coursed rapidly down my cheeks. 
 But sin was the cause of this, and no won- 
 der I groaned and wept. I had often sinned, 
 and my accumulated transgressions had piled 
 themselves as a rocky mountain on my heart, 
 and how could I endure it? The weight 
 thereof seemed to crush me down. In the 
 night season I had frightful visions, and 
 would often start from my sleep and gaze 
 round the room, as I was ever in dread of see- 
 ing the evil one ready to carry me off. I 
 continued in this frame of mind lormore than 
 seven weeks. 
 
 My distress finally became so acute that 
 the family took notice of it. Some of them 
 persecuted me because I was serious and 
 fond of attending meeting. Now, persecu- 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 43 
 
 tion raged on every hand, within and with- 
 out, and I had none to take me by the hand 
 and say, " go with us and we will do thee 
 good." But in the midst of difficulties so 
 great to one only fifteen years of age, I 
 ceased not to pray for the salvation of my 
 soul. Very often my exercises were so 
 great that sleep departed from me — I was 
 fearful that I should wake up in hell. And 
 one night when I was in bed, mourning like 
 the dove for her absent mate, I fell into a 
 dose. I thought I saw the world of fire — it 
 resembled a large solid bed of coals — red 
 and glowing with heat. I shall never forget 
 the impression it made upon my mind. No 
 tongue can possibly describe the agony of 
 my soul, for now I was greatly in fear of 
 dropping into that awful place, the smoke 
 of the torment of which ascendeth up for 
 ever and ever. I cried earnestly for mercy. 
 Then I was carried to another place, where 
 perfect happiness appeared to pervade every 
 part, and the inhabitants thereof. O how 
 I longed to be among that happy company. 
 I sighed to be free from misery and pain. 
 I knew that nothing but the attenuated thread 
 of life kept me from falling into the awful 
 lake I beheld. I cannot think that it is in 
 the power of human language to describe 
 the feelings that rushed upon my mind, or 
 thrilled through my veins. Every thing 
 
44 A SON OP THE FOREST. 
 
 appeared to bear tlie signet of reality ; when 
 I awoke, I heartily rejoiced to find it nothing 
 but a dream. 
 
 I went on from day to day with my head 
 and heart bowed down, seeking the Saviour 
 of sinners, but without success. The hea- 
 vens appeared to be brass ; my prayers 
 wanted the wings of faith to waft them to 
 the skies ; the disease of my heart increased : 
 the heavenly physician had not stretched 
 forth his hand and poured upon my soul the 
 panacea of the gospel ; the scales had not 
 fallen from my eyes, and no ray of celestial 
 light had dispelled the darkness that gath- 
 ered around my soul. The cheering sound 
 of sincere friendship fell not upon my ear. 
 It seemed as if I were friendless, unpitied, 
 and unknown, and at times I wished to be- 
 come a dweller in the wilderness. No won- 
 der then, that I was almost desponding. 
 Surrounded by difficulties and apparent dan- 
 gers, I was resolved to seek the salvation of 
 my soul with all my heart — to trust entirely 
 to the Lord, and if I failed, to perish plead- 
 ing for mercy at the foot of the throne. I 
 now hung all my hope on the Redeemer, 
 and clung with indescribable tenacity to the 
 cross on which he purchased salvation for 
 the ^^ vilest of the vile.'''' The result was 
 such as is always to be expected, when a 
 lost and ruined sinner throws himself entirely 
 
A SON OP THE FOREST. 45 
 
 on the Lord — perfect freedom. On the fif- 
 teenth day of March, in the year of our Lord, 
 eighteen hundred and thirteen, I heard a 
 voice in soft and soothing accents, saying 
 unto me, — Arise, thy sins which were many 
 are all forgiven thee, go in peace and sin no 
 
 more ! 
 
 There was nothing very singular, (save 
 the fact that the Lord stooped to hft me up,) 
 in my conversion. I had been sent into the 
 garden to work, and while there I lifted up 
 my heart to God, when all at once my bur- 
 den and fears left me — my heart melted into 
 tenderness— my soul was filled with love — 
 love to God, and love to all mankind. Oh 
 how my poor heart swelled with joy — and I 
 could cry from my very soul. Glory to God 
 in the highest ! ! ! There was not only a 
 change in my heart but in every thing around 
 me. The scene was entirely altered. The 
 works of God praised Him, and I saw him 
 in every thing that he had made. My love 
 now embraced the whole human family. The 
 children of God I loved most afiectionately. 
 Oh how I longed to be with them, and when 
 any of them passed by me, I Avould gaze at 
 them until they were lost in the distance. I 
 could have pressed them to my bosom, as 
 they were more precious to me than gold, 
 and I was always loth to part with them when- 
 ever we met together. The change, too, 
 was visible in my very countenance. 
 
46 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 I enjoyed great peace of mind, and that 
 peace was like a river full, deep, and wide, 
 and flowing continually; my mind was em- 
 ployed in contemplating the.wonderful works 
 of God, and in praising his holy name, dwelt 
 so continually upon his mercy and goodness 
 that I could praise him aloud even in my 
 sleep. I continued in this happy frame of 
 mind for some months. It was very pleasant 
 to live in the enjoyment of pure and undefiled 
 religion. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The calm and sunshine did not however 
 continue uninterrupted for any length of time ; 
 my peace of mind, which flowed as a river, 
 was disturbed. While the adversary tempted 
 me, the fire of persecution was rekindled. 
 It was considered by some members of the 
 family, that I was too young to be religiously 
 inclined, and consequently that I was under 
 a strong delusion. After a time, Mr. Wil- 
 liams came to the conclusion, that it was ad- 
 visable for me to absent myself entirely from 
 the Methodist meetings. 
 
 This restriction was the more galling, as I 
 had joined the class, and was extremely fond 
 
A SOlS^ OF THE FOREST. 47 
 
 of this means of grace. I generally attended 
 once in each week, so when the time came 
 round, I went off to the meeting, without per- 
 mission. When I returned, Mrs. Williams 
 prepared to correct me for acting contrary to 
 my orders; in the first place, however, she 
 asked me where I had been, I frankly told 
 her that I had been to meeting to worship God. 
 This reply completely disarmed her, and saved 
 me a flogging for the time. But this was not 
 the end of my persecution or my troubles. 
 
 The chamber-maid was in truth a treach- 
 erous woman ; her heart appeared to me to 
 be filled with deceit and guile, and she perse- 
 cuted me with as much bitterness as Paul did 
 the disciples of old. She had a great dislike 
 towards me, and would not hesitate to tell a 
 falsehood in order to have me whipped. But 
 my mind was stayed upon God, and I had 
 much comfort in reading the holy Scriptures. 
 One day after she had procured me a flogging, 
 and no very mild one either, she pushed me 
 down a long flight of stairs. In the fall I was 
 greatly injured, especially my head : in con- 
 sequence of this I was disabled, and laid up 
 for a long time. When I told Mr. Williams 
 that the maid had pushed me down stairs, she 
 denied it, but I succeeded in making them 
 believe it. In all this trouble the Lord was 
 with me of a truth. I was happy in the en- 
 joyment of his love. The abuse heaped on me 
 was in consequence of my beirig a Methodist, 
 
48 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 Sometimes I would get permission to attend 
 meetings in the evening, and once or twice on 
 the Sabbath. And oh, how thankful I felt for 
 these opportunities for hearing the word of 
 God. But the waves of persecution, and af- 
 fliction, and sorrow, rolled on, and gathered 
 strength in their progress, and for a season 
 overwhelmed my dispirited soul. I was flog- 
 ged several times very unjustly for what the 
 maid said respecting me. My treatment in 
 this respect was so bad that I could not brook 
 it, and in an evil hour I listened to the sug- 
 gestions of the devil, who was not slow in 
 prompting me to pursue a course directly at 
 variance with the Gospel. He put it into my 
 head to abscond from my master, and I made 
 arrangements with a boy of my acquaintance 
 to accompany me. So one day Mr. Williams 
 had gone to Stonington, I left his house, not- 
 withstanding he had previously threatened if 
 I did so, to follow me to the ends of the earth. 
 While my companion was getting ready I hid 
 my clothes in a barn, and went to buy some 
 bread and cheese, and while at the store, 
 although I had about four dollars in my 
 pocket, I so far forgot myself, a^.fo'buy a pair 
 of shoes on my master's account. Then it 
 was that I began to lose sight of religion and 
 of God. We now set out ; it being a rainy 
 night, we bought a bottle of rum, of which 
 poisonous stuff I drank heartily. Now the 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 49 
 
 shadows of spiritual death began to gather 
 around my soul. It was half past nine o'clock 
 at night when we started, and to keep up our 
 courage we took another drink of the liquor. 
 As soon as we left the city, that is, as we de- 
 scended the hill, it became very dark, and my 
 companion, who was always fierce enough by 
 daylight, began to hang back. I saw that 
 his courage was failing, and endeavoured to 
 cheer him up. Sometimes I would take a 
 drink of rum to drown my sorrows — but in 
 vain, it appears to me now as if my sorrows 
 neutralized the effects of the liquor. 
 
 This night we travelled about seven miles, 
 and being weary and wet with the rain, we 
 crept into a barn by the way side, and for 
 fear of being detected in the morning, if we 
 should happen to sleep too long, we burrowed 
 into the hay a considerable depth. We were 
 aroused in the morning by the people feeding 
 their cattle ; we laid still and they did not 
 discover us. After they had left the barn we 
 crawled out, made our breakfast on rum, 
 bread, and cheese, and set off for Colchester, 
 about fourteen miles distant, which we reach- 
 ed that nighi. Here we ventured to put up 
 at a tayeni. The next morning we started 
 for my father's, about four miles off. I told 
 him that we had come to stay only one week, 
 and when that week had expired he vyished 
 me to redeem my promise and return home. 
 5 
 
50 A SON OF TltE rOKEST. 
 
 So I had seemingly to comply, and when we 
 had packed up our clothes, he said he would 
 accompany us part of the way ; and when we 
 parted I thought he had some suspicions of 
 my intention to take another direction, as he 
 begged me to go straight home. He then 
 sat down on the way side and looked after 
 us as long as we were to be seen. At last 
 we descended a hill, and as soon as we lost 
 sight of him, we struck into the woods. I 
 did not see my father again for eight years. 
 At this time, I felt very much disturbed. I 
 was just going to step out on the broad thea- 
 tre of the world, as it were, without father, 
 mother, or friends. 
 
 After travelling some distance in the woods, 
 we shaped our course towards Hartford. We 
 were fearful of being taken up, and my com- 
 panion coined a story, which he thought 
 would answer very well. It was to repre- 
 sent ourselves, whenever questioned, as hav- 
 ing belonged to a privateer, which was cap- 
 tured by the British, who kindly sent us on 
 shore near New-London; that our parents 
 lived in the city of New- York, and that we 
 were travelling thither to see them. 
 
 Now John was a great liar. He was brought 
 up by dissipated parents, and accustomed in 
 the way of the world to all kinds of company. 
 He had a good memory, and having been 
 
A SCN OF THE FOBEST. 61 
 
 where he heard war songs and tales of blood 
 and carnage, he treasured them up. He 
 therefore agreed to be spokesman, and I 
 assure my dear reader that I was perfectly 
 willing, for abandoned as I was I could not 
 lie without feeling my conscience smite me. 
 This part of the business being arranged, it 
 was agreed that I should sell part of my 
 clothing to defray our expenses. Our beads 
 were full of schemes, and we journeyed on 
 until night overtook us. We then went into 
 a farm-house to test our plan. The people 
 soon began to ask us questions, and John 
 as readily answered them. He gave them 
 a great account of our having been captured 
 by the enemy, and so straight, that they be- 
 lieved the whole of it. After supper we 
 went to bed, and in the morning they gave 
 us a good breakfast, and some bread and 
 cheese, and we went on our way, satisfied 
 with our exploits, John . now studied to 
 make his story appear as correct as possible. 
 The people jjitied us, and sometimes we had 
 a few shilhngs put into our hands. We did 
 not suffer for the want of food. At Hartford 
 we stayed some time, and we here agreed to 
 work our passage down to New-York on 
 boat'd of a brig — but learning that the British 
 fleet was on the coast, the captain declined 
 going. We then set out to reach New- York 
 by land. We thought it a good way to 
 
52 A SON OF THE FOKEST. 
 
 walk. We went by way of New-Haven, ex- 
 pecting to reach the city from that place by 
 water. Again we were disappointed. We 
 fell in company with some sailors who had 
 been exchanged, and we listened to their 
 story — it was an affecting one, and John 
 concluded to incorporate a part of it with 
 his own. So shortly afterwards he told some 
 people that while we were prisoners, we 
 had to eat bread mixed with pounded glass. 
 The people were foolish enough to believe 
 us. At Kingsbridge an old lady gave us 
 several articles of clothing. Here we agreed 
 with the captain of a vessel to work our way 
 to New- York. When we got under weigh, 
 John undertook to relate our sufferings to 
 the crew. They appeared to believe it all, 
 until he came to the incredible story of the 
 '* glass bread." This convinced the captain 
 that all he said was false. He told us that 
 he knew that we were runaways, and pressed 
 us to tell him, but we declined. At length 
 he told us that we were very ntar to Hell- 
 gate, (Hurl-gate,) — that when we reached it 
 the devil would come on board in a stone 
 canoe, with an iron paddle, and make a ter- 
 rible noise, and that he intended to give us 
 to him. I thought all he said was so. I there- 
 fore confessed that we were runaways — 
 where, and with whom we had lived. He 
 said he would take me back to New-London, 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 53 
 
 as my master was rich and would pay him a 
 good price. Here the devil prompted me 
 to tell a lie, and I replied that the General 
 had advertized me one cent reward. He 
 then said that he would do nothing with me 
 further than to keep my clothes until we paid 
 him. When the vessel reached the dock, 
 John slipped off, and I was not slow to fol- 
 low. In a few days we got money to redeem 
 our clothing; we took board in Cherry- 
 street, at two dollars per week ; we soon 
 obtained work and received sixty-two and 
 a half cents per day. While this continued, 
 we had no difficulty in paying our board. My 
 mind now became tolerably calm, but in the 
 midst of this I was greatly alarmed ; as I was 
 informed that my master had offered fifteen 
 dollars reward for me, and that the captain 
 of one of the packets was looking for me. I 
 dared not go back, and therefore determined 
 to go to Philadelphia ; to this John objected, 
 and advised me to go to sea, but I could find 
 no vessel. He entered on board a privateer, 
 and I was thus left entirely alone in a strange 
 city. Wandering about, I fell in company 
 with a sergeant and a file of men who were 
 enlisting soldiers for the United States army. 
 They thought I would answer their purpose, 
 but how to get me was the thing. Now they 
 began to talk to me, then treated me to 
 some spirits and when that began to ope- 
 
 5* 
 
54 A SON OF THE EOREST. 
 
 rate they told me all about the war, and 
 what a fine thing it was to be a soldier. I 
 was pleased with the idea of being a soldier, 
 took some more liquor and some money, 
 had a cockade fastened on my hat, and was 
 ofFin high spirits for my uniform. Now my 
 enlistment was against tlie law, but I did not 
 know it ; I could not think why I should 
 risk my life and limbs in fighting for the 
 white man, who had cheated my forefathers 
 out of their land. By this time I had ac- 
 quired many bad practices. I was sent over 
 to Governor's Island, opposite the city, and 
 here I remained some time. Too much 
 liquor was dealt out to the soldiers, who got 
 drunk very often. Indeed the island was 
 like a hell upon earth, in consequence of 
 the wickedness of the soldiers. I have 
 known sober men to enlist, who afterwards 
 became confirmed drunkards, and appear 
 like fools upon the earth. So it was among 
 the soldiers, and what should a child do, who 
 was entangled in their net. Now, although 
 I made no profession of religion, yet I could 
 not bear to hear sacred things spoken of 
 lightly, or the sacred name of God blas- 
 phemed ; and I often spoke to the soldiers 
 about it, and in general they listened atten- 
 tively to what I had to say. I did not tell 
 them that I had ever made a profession of 
 
^ SON OF THE FOREST. 55 
 
 religion. In a little time I became almost 
 as bad as any of them ; could drink rum 
 play cards, and act as wickedly as any. I 
 was at times tormented with the thoughts 
 of death, but God had mercy on me, and 
 spared my life, and for this I feel thankful 
 to the present day. Some people are of 
 opinion that if a person is once born of the 
 Spirit of God he can never fall away entire- 
 ly, and because I acted thus, they may pre- 
 tend to say that I had not been converted to 
 the faith. I believe firmly, that if ever 
 Paul was born again, I was ; if not, from 
 whence did I derive all the light and happi- 
 ness I had heretofore experienced ? To be 
 sure it was not to be compared to Paul's — 
 but the change I felt in my very soul. 
 
 I felt anxious to obtain forgiveness from 
 every person I had injured in any manner 
 whatever. Sometimes I thought I would 
 write to my old friends and request forgive- 
 ness — then I thought I had done right. I 
 could not bear to hear any order of Chris- 
 tians ridiculed, especially the Methodists — 
 it grieved me to the heart. 
 
66 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 It appeared that I had been enlisted for 
 a musician, as I was instructed while on the 
 Island in beating a drum. In this I took 
 much delight. While on the Island I wit- 
 nessed the execution of a soldier who w as 
 shot according to the decision of a court 
 martial. Two men had been condemned 
 for munity or desertion ; It is impossible for 
 me to describe the feelings of my heart w hen 
 I saw the soldiers parade and the condemned 
 clothed in white, with bibles in their hands, 
 come forward. The band then struck up the 
 dead march, and the procession moved with 
 a mournful and measured tread to the place 
 of execution, where the poor creatures were 
 compelled to kneel on the coffins, which 
 were along side two newly dug graves. 
 While in this position the chaplain went for- 
 ward and conversed with them — after he had 
 retired a soldier went up and drew the caps 
 over their faces ; thus blindfolded he led one 
 of them some distance from the other. An 
 officer then advanced, and raised his hand- 
 herchief as a signal to the platoon to prepare 
 to fire — he then made another for them to 
 aim at the wretch who had been left kneeling 
 on his coffin, and at a third signal the pla- 
 toon fired and the immortal essence of the 
 offender in an instant was in the spirit-land- 
 
A SON OF THE FOEEST. 57 
 
 To me this was an awful day — my heart seem- 
 ed to leap into my throat. Death never ap- 
 peared so awful. But what must have been 
 the feelings of the unhappy man, who had so 
 narrowly escaped the grave ? He was com- 
 pletely overcome, and wept hke a child, and 
 it was found necessary to help him back to 
 his quarters. This spectacle made me seri- 
 ous ; but it wore off in a few days 
 
 Shortly after this we were ordered to 
 Staten Island, where we remained about two 
 months. Then we were ordered to join the 
 army destined to conquer Canada. As the 
 soldiers were tired of the island, this news 
 animated them very much. They thought 
 it a great thing to march through the country 
 and assist in taking the enemy's land. As 
 soon as our things were ready we embarked 
 on board a sloop for Albany, and then went 
 on to Greenbush, where we were quartered. 
 In the meantime I had been transferred to 
 the ranks. This I did not hke ; to carry a 
 musket was too fatiguing, and I had a posi- 
 tive objection to being placed on the guard, 
 especially at night. As I had only enlisted 
 for a drummer, I thought that this change 
 by the officer was contrary to law, and as 
 the bond was broken, lilDerty was granted 
 me ; therefore being heartily tired of a sol- 
 dier's life, and having a desire to see my fa- 
 ther once more, I went off very deliberately; 
 
58 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 I had no idea that they had a lawful claim 
 on me, and was greatly surprised as well as 
 alarmed, when arrested as a deserter from 
 the army. Well, I was taken up and carried 
 back to the camp, where the officers put me 
 under guard. We shortly after marched 
 for Canada, and during this dreary march 
 the officers tormented me by telling me 
 that it was their intention to make a fire in 
 the woods, stick my skin full of pine splinters, 
 and after having an Indian pow-wow over 
 me burn me to death. Thus th6y torment- 
 ed me day after day. 
 
 We halted for some time at Burlington ; 
 but resumed our march and went into win- 
 ter quarters at Plattsburgh, All this time 
 God was very good to me, as I had not a 
 sick day. I had by this time become very 
 bad. I had previously learned to drink rum, 
 play cards and commit other acts of wick- 
 edness, but it was here that I first took 
 the name of the Lord in vain, and oh, what 
 a sting it left behind, We continued here 
 until the ensuing fall, when we received or- 
 ders to join the main army under Gen. 
 Hampton. Another change now took place, 
 1-^we had several pieces of heavy artillery 
 with us, and of course horses were necessa- 
 ry to drag them, and I was taken from the 
 ranks and ordered to take charge of one 
 t€fim, This made my situation rather bet- 
 
A ^ON OF The FOIlESt. 50 
 
 ter. 1 now had the privilege of riding. The 
 soldiers were badly off, as the officers were 
 Very cruel to them, and for every little 
 offence they would have them flogged. One 
 day the officer of our company got angry at 
 me, and pricked my ear with the point of 
 his sword. 
 
 We soon joined the main army, and pitch- 
 ed our tents with them. It was now very 
 cold, and we had nothing but straw to lay 
 on. There was also a scarcity of provisions, 
 and we were not allowed to draw our full 
 rations. Money would not procure food— ^ 
 and when any thing was to be obtained the 
 officers had always the preference, and they, 
 poor souls, always wanted the whole for 
 themselves. The people generally, have no 
 idea of the extreme sufferings of the soldiers 
 on the frontiers during the last war ; they 
 were indescribable, the soldiers eat with the 
 utmost greediness raw corn and every thing 
 eatable that fell in their way. In the midst 
 of our afflictions, our valiant general ordered 
 us to march forward to subdue the country 
 in a trice. The pioneers had great difficul- 
 ty in clearing the way — the enemy retreated 
 burning every thing as they fled. They de- 
 stroyed every thing, so that we could not 
 find forage for the horses. We were now 
 cutting our way through a wilderness, and 
 were very often benumbed with the cold. 
 
60 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 Our sufferings now for the want of food were 
 extreme — the officers too began to feel it. 
 and one of them offered me two dollars for 
 a little flour, but I did not take this money, 
 and he did not get my flour; I would not 
 have given it to him for fifty dollars. The 
 soldiers united their flower and baked unleav- 
 ened bread, of this we made a delicious re- 
 past. 
 
 After we had proceeded about thirty miles, 
 we fell in with a body of Canadians and In- 
 diahs--^the woods" fairly resounded with their 
 yells. Our "brave and chivalrous" general 
 ordered a picked troop to disperse them ; 
 we fired but one cannon and a retreat •.was 
 sounded to the great mortification of the 
 soldiers who were ready and willing to fight. 
 But as our general did not fancy the smell 
 of gunpower, he thought it best to close the 
 campaign, by retreating with seven thousand 
 men, before a "host" of seven hundred. 
 Thus were many a poor fellow's hopes of 
 conquest and glory blasted by the timidity of 
 one man. This little brush with an enemy 
 that we could have crushed in a single mo- 
 ment cost us several men in killed and 
 wounded. The army now fell back on 
 Plattsburgh, where we remained during the 
 winter ; we suffered greatly for the want of 
 barracks, having to encamp in the open 
 fields a good part of the time. My health, 
 
I. ]ge 
 ampme 
 
 A SON OF THE FOEEST. 61 
 
 through the goodness of God, was preserved, 
 notwidistanding many of the poor soldiers 
 sickened and died. So fast did they go off, 
 that it appeared to me as if the plague was 
 raging among them. 
 
 When the spring opened, we were em- 
 ployed in building forts. We erected three 
 in a very short time. We soon received 
 orders to march, and joined the army under 
 Gen. Wilkinson, to reduce Montreal 
 marched to Odletown in great sple 
 *' Heads up and eyes right," with a' 
 commander at our head, and the splendid 
 city of Montreal in dur view. The city no 
 doubt presented a scene of the wildest 
 uproar and confusion ; the people were 
 greatly alarmed as we moved on with all 
 the pomp and glory of an army flushed with 
 many victories. But when we reached 
 Odletown, John Bull met us with a picked 
 troop. They soon retreated, and some took 
 refuge in an old fortified mill, which we 
 pelted with a goodlynumber of cannon balls. 
 It appeared as if we were determined to 
 sweep every thing before us. It was really 
 amusing to see our feminine general with 
 his night-cap on his head, and a dishcloth 
 tied round his precious body, crying out to 
 his men "Come on, my brave boys, we will 
 give John Bull a bloody nose." We did 
 not succeed in taking the mill, and the 
 
 6 
 
G2 A SON OP THIS FOREST. 
 
 British kept up an incessant cannonade frolil 
 the fort. Some of the balls cut down the 
 trees, so that we had frequently to spring- out 
 of their way when falling. I thought it was 
 a hard time, and I had reason too, as I was 
 in the front of the battle, assisting in working 
 a twelve pounder, and the British aimed 
 directly at us. Their balls whistled around 
 us, and hurried a good many of the soldiers 
 ii^fi the eternal woHd, while others were 
 ]^^^i(5rribly mangled. Indeed they were 
 s^CV upon us, that we had not time to re- 
 move the dead as they fell. The horribly 
 disfigured bodies of the dead — the piercing 
 groans of the wounded and the dying — the 
 cries for help and succour from those whp 
 could not help themselves — were mo»t ap- 
 palling. I can never forget it. We con- 
 tinued fighting tiW near sundown, when 
 a retreat was sounded along our hne, and 
 instead of marching forward to Montreal, we 
 wheeled about, and having once set our 
 faces towards Plattsburgh, and turned our 
 backs ingloriously on the enemy, we hurried 
 off with all possible speed. We carried our 
 dead and wounded with us. Oh, it was a 
 dreadful sight to behold so many brave men 
 sacrificed in this manner. In this way our 
 campaign closed. During the whole of this 
 time the Lord was merciful to me, as I was 
 not suffered to be hurt. We once mor-e 
 
A SON OP THE FOEEST. 63 
 
 reached Plattsburgh, and pitched our tents 
 in the neighbourhood. While here, intelli- 
 gence of the capture of Washington was re- 
 ceived. Now, says the orderly sergeant, the 
 British have burnt up all the papers at Wash- 
 ington, and our enlistment for the war among 
 them, we had better give in our names as 
 having enhsted for five years. 
 
 We were again under marching orders, as 
 the enemy it was thotight contemplated^n 
 attack on Plattsburgh. Thither we^ 
 without delay, and were posted in 
 the forts. By the time we were ready for 
 them, the enemy made his appearance on 
 Lake Champlain, with his vessels of war. 
 It was a fine thing to see their noble vessels 
 movifig like things of life upon this mimic 
 sea, with their streamers floating in the wind. 
 This armament was intended to co-operate 
 with the army, which numbered fourteen 
 thousand men, under the command of the 
 captain general of Canada, and at that v^y 
 lime in view of our troops. They pre- 
 sented a very imposing aspect. Their red 
 uniform, and the instruments of death which 
 they bore in their hands, glittered in the sun 
 beams of heaven, like so many sparkling 
 diamonds. Very fortunately for us and for 
 the country, a brave and noble commander 
 was placed at the head of the army. It was. 
 Idot an easy task to frighten him. For noX^ 
 
64 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 withstanding his men were inferior in point 
 of number to those of the enemy, say as one 
 to seven, yet relying on the bravery of his 
 men, he determined to fight to the last ex- 
 tremity. The enemy in all the pomp and 
 pride of war, had sat down before the town 
 and its slender fortifications, and commenced 
 a cannonade, which we returned without 
 much ceremony. Congreve rockets, bomb 
 slidls, and cannon balls, poured upon us 
 IjflB^hail storm. There was scarcely any 
 ilUJJPKssion, and for six days and nights 
 we did not leave our guns, and during that 
 time the work of death paused not, as every 
 day some shot took eftect. During the en- 
 gagememt, I had charge of a small magazine. 
 All this time our fleet, under the command 
 of the gallant M'Donough, was lying on the 
 peaceful waters of Champlain. But this little 
 fleet was to be taken, or destroyed : it was 
 necessary, in the accomplishment Of their 
 plans. Accordingly the British commander 
 bore down on our vessels in gallant style. 
 As soon as the enemy showed fight, our men 
 flew to their guns. Then the work of death 
 and carnage commenced. The adjacent 
 shores resounded with the alternate shouts 
 of the sons of libert}^ and the groans of their 
 parting spirits. A cloud of smoke mantled 
 the heavens, shutting out the light of day — 
 while the continual roar ^f artillery, added 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 65 
 
 to tli€ sublime horrors of the scene. At 
 length the boasted valour of the haughty 
 Britons failed them — they quailed before the 
 incessant and well directed fire of our brave 
 and hardy tars, and after a hard fought battle, 
 surrendered to that foe they had been sent 
 to crush. On land the battle raged pretty 
 fiercely. On our side the Green Mountain 
 boys behaved with the greatest bravery. As 
 soon as the British commander had seen the 
 fleet fall into the hands of the Americansfliis 
 boasted courage forsook him, and he ordered 
 his army of heroes, fourteen thousand strong, 
 to retreat before a handful of militia. 
 
 This was indeed a proud day for our coun- 
 try. We had met a superior force on the 
 Lake, and " they were ours." On land we 
 had compelled the enemy to seek safety in 
 flight. Our army did not lose many men, 
 but on the laivc-many a brave man fell — fell 
 in the defence of his country's rights. The 
 British moved ofl' about sundown. 
 ^ We remained in Plattsburgh until the 
 peace. As soon as it wns known that the 
 war had terminated, and the army disbanded, 
 the soldiers were clamorous for their dis- 
 charge, but it was concluded to retain our 
 company in the service — I, however, ob- 
 tained my release. Now, according to the 
 act of enlistment, I was entitled to forty 
 dollars bounty money, and One hundred and 
 
 6* 
 
6G A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 sixty acres of land. The government also 
 owed me for fifteen months pay. I have not 
 seen any thing of bounty money, land, or 
 arrearages, from that day to this. I am not, 
 however, alone in this — hundreds were served 
 in the same manner. But I could never 
 think that the government acted right towards 
 the " Natives,^'' not merely in refusing to pay 
 us, but in claiming our services in cases of 
 perilous emergency, and still deny us the right 
 of Citizenship ; and as long as our nation is 
 debarred the privilege of voting for civil of- 
 ficers, I shall believe that the government 
 has no claim on our services. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 No DOUBT there are many good people 
 in the United States, who would not trample 
 upon the rights of the poor, but there are 
 many others who are wiUing to roll in their 
 coaches upon the tears and blood of the poor 
 and unoffending natives — those who are 
 ready at all times to speculate on the Indians, 
 and defraud them out of their rightful posses- 
 sions. Let the poor Indian attempt to resist 
 the encroachments of his white neighbours, 
 what a hue and cry is instantly raised against 
 
A SON OP THE FOREST. 67 
 
 him* It has been considered as a trifling 
 thing for the whites to make war on the In- 
 dians for the purpose of driving them from 
 their country, and taking possession thereof. 
 This was, in their estimation, all right, as it 
 helped to extend the territory, and enriched 
 some individuals. But let the thing be 
 changed. Suppose an overwhelming army 
 should march into the United States, for the 
 purpose of subduing it, and enslaving the 
 citizens ; how quick would they fly to arms, 
 gather in multitudes around the tree of liberty, 
 and contend for their rights with the last 
 drop of their blood. And should the enemy 
 succeed, would they not eventually rise and 
 endeavour to regain liberty ? And who would 
 blame them for it? 
 
 When I left the army, I had not a shilling 
 in my pocket. I depended upon the pre- 
 carious bounty of the inhabitants, until I 
 reached the place where some of my breth- 
 ren dwelt. I tarried with them but a short 
 time, and then set ofi' for Montreal. I was 
 anxious, in some degree, to become steady, 
 and went to learn the business of a baker. 
 My bad habits now overcome my good in- 
 tentions. I was addicted to drinking rum, 
 and would sometimes get quite intoxicated. 
 As it was my place to carry out the bread, I 
 frequently fell in company, and one day, 
 being in liquor, I met one of the king's sol- 
 
68 A SON OF THE FOUEST. 
 
 diers, and after abusing him with my tongue, 
 I gave him a sound flogging. In the course 
 of the affair I broke a pitcher which the 
 soldier had, and as I had to pay for it, I was 
 wicked enough to take my master's money, 
 without his knowledge, for that purpose. 
 My master liked me, but he thought if I 
 acted so once, I would a second time, and 
 he very properly discharged me. I was now 
 placed in a bad situation — by my miscon- 
 duct, I had lost a good home ! I went and 
 hired myself to a farmer, for four dollars per 
 month. After serving him two months, he 
 paid me, and with the money I bought some 
 decent clothes. By spells, I was hired as a 
 servant, but this kind of a life did not suit 
 me, and I wished to return to my brethren. 
 My mind changed, and I went up the St. 
 Lawrence to Kingston, where I obtained a 
 situation on board of a sloop, in the capacity 
 of a cook, at twelve dollars per month. I 
 was on board the vessel some time, and when 
 we settled, the captain cheated me out of 
 twelve dollars. My next move was in the 
 country; I agreed to serve a merchant faith- 
 fully, and he promised to give me twelve 
 dollars a month. Every thing went on 
 smooth for a season ; at last I became negli- 
 gent and careless, in consequence of his 
 giving me a pint of rum every day, which 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 69 
 
 was the allowance he made for each person 
 in his employment. 
 
 While at this place, I attended a Metho- 
 dist meeting — at the time I felt very much 
 aflected, as it brought up before my mind 
 the great and indescribable enjoyments I had 
 found in the house of prayer, when I was 
 endeavouring to serve the Lord. It soon 
 wore off, and I relapsed into my former bad 
 habits. 
 
 I now went again into the country, and 
 staid with a farmer, for one month, he paid 
 me five dollars. Then I shifted my quar- 
 ters to another place and agreed with a 
 Dutch farmer to stay with him all winter at 
 five dollars a month. With this situation I 
 was much pleased. My work was light — I 
 had very little to do except procuring fire- 
 wood. I often went with them on hunting 
 excursions, besides, my brethren were all 
 around me, and it therefore seemed like 
 home. I was now in the bay of Quinty, 
 the scenery was diversified. There were 
 also some natural curiosities. On the very 
 top of a high mountain in the neighbourhood 
 there was a large pond of water, to which 
 there was no visible outlet ; — this pond was 
 unfathomable. It was ver}^ surprising to 
 mc that so great a body of water should be 
 found so far above the common level of the 
 earth. There was also in the neighbour- 
 
70 A SOX OF THE FOREST. 
 
 hood a rock, that had the appearance of 
 being hollowed out by the hand of a skilfal 
 artificer ; through this rock wound a narrow 
 stream of water : it had a most beatiful and 
 romantic appearance, and I could not but 
 admire the wisdom of God in the order, re- 
 gularity and beauty of creation ; 1 then 
 turned my eyes to the forest and it seemed 
 alive with its sons and daughters. There 
 appeared to be the utmost order and regula- 
 rity in their encampment. 
 
 Oh what a pity that this state of things 
 should change. How much better would it 
 be if the whites would act like a civilized 
 people, and instead of giving my brethren of 
 the woods " rum !" in exchange for their 
 furs, give them food and clothing for them- 
 selves and children. If this course were 
 
 , pursued, 1 believe that God would bless both 
 the whites and natives three fold*. I am 
 bold to aver that the minds of the natives 
 were turned against the gospel and soured to- 
 wards the whites because some of the pis*- 
 sionaries have joined the unholy brethren in 
 speculations to the advantage of themselves, 
 regardless of the rights, feelings and interests. 
 
 "«^f the untutored sons of the forest. If a 
 good missionary goes among them, and' 
 preaches the pure doctrine cf the gospel, he 
 must necessarily tell them that they must 
 
A SON or THE FOREST. If! 
 
 ** love God and their neighbour as themselves 
 — to love men, deal justly, and walk hum- 
 bly." They would naturally reply, your 
 doctrine is very good, but the whole course 
 of your conduct is decidedly at variance 
 with your profession — we think the whites 
 need fully as much religious instruction as 
 we do. In this way many a good man's 
 path is hedged up, and he is prevented from 
 being useful among the natives, in conse- 
 quence of the bad conduct of those who are 
 properly speaking only " wolves in sheep's 
 clothing." However, the natives are on the 
 whole willing to receive the gospel, and of 
 late, through the instrumentality of pious 
 jnis&ionaries, much good has been done — 
 many of them have been reclaimed from the 
 most abandoned and degrading practices, 
 and brought to a knowledge of the truth as 
 it is in Jesus! 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 By many persons great objections have 
 been raised against efforts to civilize the na-^* 
 lives — they, alledge that they have tried the 
 experiment and failed. But how did they 
 make the experiment, and why did they fail.'* 
 
72 A SON or THE FOREST. 
 
 We may with perfect safety say that these 
 persons were prompted to the eflbrts they 
 made by shiistcr motives, and they failed, 
 because they undertook that in their own 
 strength, which nothing short of the power 
 of God could effect. A most sweeping 
 charge has been brought against the natives 
 — a charge which has no foundation in truth. 
 It is this, that they are not susceptible of im- 
 provement ; now subsequent facts have 
 proved that this assertion is false. Let us 
 look around us and what do we behold ? 
 The forests of Canada and the west are vo- 
 cal with the praises of God, as they ascend 
 from the happy wigwams of the natives. — 
 We see them flocking to the standard of 
 Emmanuel. Many of them have been con- 
 verted to God, and have died in the triumphs 
 of faith. Our religious papers have, from 
 time to time, recorded the blessed efljects of 
 the divine spirit — of the strong faith of the 
 expiring Indian. The hopes of the Chris- 
 tian have been elevated, and there is every 
 thing to cheer and encourage the followers 
 of the Lamb in so good and noble a cause. 
 
 Some people make this charge against the 
 natives, who never knew any thing about 
 religion, and I fancy that it would be as diffi- 
 cult for any man who lives in a state of 
 voluptuousness, to get to heaven by his own 
 strength as it would be for a native. The 
 
A SON OF THE FORESt. 73 
 
 Methodists haVe perhaps done more towards 
 enlightening the poor Indians and bringing 
 them to a knowledge of the truth than all 
 t)ther societies together. I do not say that 
 they did it of their own strength ; but, that 
 they were the happy instruments in the 
 hands of the Lord Jesus, in accomplishing 
 that which others have failed in performing, 
 as they (the Methodists) relyed altogether 
 on the blessing of God. They preached not 
 themselves, but Christ Jesus,— and him 
 crucified: And while they were doing this, 
 they sought not their own advancement. 
 And no wonder that they succeeded — the 
 natives were melted down into tenderness 
 and love, and they became as kind and obli- 
 ging as any people could be. 
 
 It is my opinion that our nation retains 
 the original complexion of our common fa- 
 ther, Adam. This is strongly impressed on 
 my mind, I think it is very reasonable, and 
 in this opinion I am not singular, as some of 
 the best writers of the age, among whom we 
 find a Clinton, a Boudinot, a West, and a 
 Hinds, have expressed their sentiments in its 
 favour. But to return. 
 
 In the spring the old gentleman set us to 
 making maple sugar. This took us into the 
 woods, which were vocal with the songs of 
 the birds ; all nature seemed to smile and re- 
 joice in the freshness and beauty of spring. 
 
 7 
 
74 A SO?f OF THE FOBEST. 
 
 My brethren appeared very cheerful on ac- 
 count of its return, and enjoyed themselves 
 in hunting, fishing, basket making, he. 
 After we had done making sugar, I told the 
 old gentleman I wished to go and see my 
 friends in the east, as I had been absent 
 about three years : he consented though he 
 wished me to tarry longer with him. I then 
 went to Kingston, where I fell into bad com- 
 pany, with drunkards— they were friends as 
 long as my money held out. But vdien that 
 failed, their friendship turned to enmity. 
 Thus all my money was gone and I was alone 
 and destitute in a strange place. I went to live 
 with a man for a while, but had not been 
 with him but a few days before I found much 
 trouble in the wigwam. The lady of the 
 house was a lady indeed ; when she went to 
 bed she could not get up without assistance, 
 and very often her husband would mourn 
 over her and say what a wretoli he had been 
 ever since he had married her. She was 
 very intemperate, and here I saw the evil 
 of ardent spirits. They soon after broke 
 up housekeeping, and I of course lost my 
 place. I had not refrained from my evil 
 practices, and some of my wicked compa- 
 nions advised me to steal for a living, but as 
 I had no inclination to rob any one, I had 
 prudence and firmness to resist the tempta- 
 tion. Those who advised me to do so were 
 
A SON or THE FOREST. /6 
 
 not my brethren, but whites. My eyes 
 were now opened to see my pretended 
 friends in their true light, I concluded that 
 such friends were not useful to me, and I 
 was awakened to reflection, and determined 
 to leave their society. 
 
 One sabbath as I was passing by a chapel, 
 I heard a good man of God giving good ad- 
 vice to his people. He earnestly exhorted 
 them to faithfulness and prayer. I went in, 
 and while listening to his fervent discourse, 
 all my promises of reformation rose up be- 
 fore me. I was very much affected — my 
 spirit was troubled, and I began to think 
 seriously about my situation. The next 
 day I sat down in the sun to sun myself, 
 and to consider as to my future course, as I 
 found I was friendless, without money, and 
 without work, The desire of my heart was 
 to get home ; while reflecting on this, to me 
 important subject, it appeared as if God was 
 working for me, as four boatmen about go- 
 ing on a hunting and fishing excursion, came 
 to purchase stores. I asked them if I should 
 go with them — they wished to know where 
 I was going, and I told them I was willing 
 to go any where. One of them hired me 
 to fish, and I went with them ; the time 
 passed rapidly on and I felt as happy as a 
 king. We had very little rum, and that lit- 
 tle we found abundantly sufiicient. By de- 
 
76 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 grees I recovered my appetite. I was with 
 these good men upwards of a month, part of 
 which time we spent in fishing, and part in 
 hunting deer. They then returned to see 
 their families, taking me with them. The 
 one who had hired me to fish, when I told 
 him that I wished to go home, acted like a 
 gentleman, and paid me my wages. After 
 purchasing a pair of shoes, I had only one- 
 shilhng left. I now started for home a dis-. 
 tance of more than three hundred miles. This- 
 was a long journey to perform alone,' and 
 on foot. But thank God I found friends—, 
 many who were willing to supply me with 
 food, and render me assistance. I had no 
 difficulty until I reached Utica, where I lost 
 my shilling. — I was now peniiyless. Fortu- 
 nately I agreed with the captain of a boat to 
 work my passage down the Mohawk river. 
 In this way I got along some distance. When 
 I left the boat I had to beg or work, as answer- 
 ed my purpose best, as I was extremely 
 anxious to get home, therefore I preferred the 
 shortest method. But nevertheless I refused 
 not to work : but unfortunately the people in 
 this part of the country seeing I was an 
 Indian took but little notice of me. I was 
 also exposed to some temptations, as I met 
 often in the road the veriest wretches that 
 defile the earth — such as would forget the 
 dignity of human nature so far as to black- 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 77 
 
 guard me because I was an Indian. A son 
 of the forest would never stoop so low as to 
 offer such an insult to a stranger who happen- 
 ed to be amongst them. I was much mortified, 
 and believing that they ought to be corrected 
 for so flagrant a breach of good manners 
 and " civilization," I thought seriously in one 
 or two instances of inflicting summary pun- 
 ishment; but this feeling gave way to that of 
 pity. It appeared to me as if they had not 
 the sense and wisdom of the brute creation. 
 When I reached Albany, the bells were 
 tolling. The solemn sound entered into the 
 deepest recesses of my soul, pressed down 
 as it were with a multitude of sorrows. It 
 appeared to be a very solemn time. They 
 were engaged in depositing the mortal re- 
 mains of a man in the narrow and darksome 
 grave, who had been killed the day before 
 by a stroke of lightning. O, how thankful 
 I felt that I had not been taken off instead of 
 that man. I immediately went to Hoosack, 
 passing through the pleasant town of Troy. 
 I was now about one hundred miles from 
 home, and not having clothes suitable for 
 the season, I concluded to go to work in 
 order to get such as would answer to make 
 my appearance in at home. So I began to 
 make enquiries for work, and come across 
 one Esquire Haviland, who engaged me to 
 
78 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 help him the remainder of the seasonj at 
 eight dollars per month. He treated me 
 with the utmost kindness ; he took me to 
 church to hear tlie word of God, dressed me 
 up in good clothes, and took the best care 
 of me while I remained with them. When 
 I left them, instead of going home, as I in- 
 tended, I steered my course for Old Hart- 
 ford, where 1 fell in with some of the rough 
 people of the world, and made a halt. I 
 again listened to the advice of the wicked, 
 and turned aside from the path of virtue. I 
 soon agreed to go to sea with one of my ncAV 
 comrades, but we could not ship ourselves* 
 I now got to drinking too much of the ac- 
 cursed liquor again. As we failed in our 
 project at Hartford, we started for New* 
 Haven, where I abandoned the notion of 
 going to sea, and Avent to work, and all I got 
 for two months labour was a pair of pan- 
 taloons. I thought surely, that these were 
 hard times. Winter was now coming on 
 apace, and as I had very little clothing, I 
 had to do the best I could. I saw the im- 
 propriety of keeping bad compan}', and I 
 must in this respect acknowledge that I was 
 a very fool, and only a half-witted Indian — 
 the Lord had often warned me of my danger, 
 and I was advised of the evil consequences 
 by those who I believe were concerned for 
 my welfare here and hereafter. 
 
A 30N OP THE FOREST. 7^ 
 
 In the spring 1 had good clothes, and with- 
 al looked very decent, so I thought that I 
 would make another efibrt to reach my home. 
 In my journey, being in the land of steady 
 habits, 1 found the people very benevolent 
 and kind. I experienced but very little 
 difficulty on the way, and at last I arrived in 
 safety at the home of my childhood. At 
 first my people looked upon me as one risen 
 from the dead. Not having heard from me 
 since I left home, being more than four years, 
 they thought I must certainly have died, and 
 the days of mourning had almost passed. 
 They were rejoiced to see me once more in 
 the land of the living, and I was equally re- 
 joiced to find all my folks alive. The whites 
 with whom I had been acquainted w^ere alsa 
 very glad to see me. After I had spent some 
 time with my relations in Groton, and visited 
 all my old friends, I concluded to go to work 
 and be steady. Accordingly i hired myself 
 to a Mr. Geers, for a month or two. I served 
 him faithfully, but when I wanted ray pay, 
 he undertook to treat me as he would a de- 
 graded African slave, he took a cart-stake in 
 order to pay me ; but he soon found out his 
 mistake, as 1 made him put it down as quick 
 as he had taken it up. I had been cheated 
 so often that I determined to have my rights 
 this time, and forever after. 
 
80 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 I was now about nineteen years of age, 
 and had become quite steady. I attended 
 meetings again quite often, and my mind 
 was powerfully wrought upon. At this time 
 my heart was susceptible of good impres- 
 sions. I would think upon the varied scenes 
 of my life — how often the Lord had called 
 me, and how for a season I attended to that 
 call — of the blessed and happy times I had 
 experienced in the house of God, and in 
 secret devotion ; and the days of darkness 
 and nights of sorrowful anguish, since those 
 days when the spirit of God breathed upon 
 my soul. Then, I enjoyed happiness in a 
 pre-eminent degree ! Now, I was miserable, 
 I had ofiended God — violated his laws — 
 abused his goodness — trampled his mercy 
 under foot, and disregarded his admonitions. 
 But still he called me back to the path of 
 duty and of peace. I was pressed down bv 
 a load of shame, and a weight of guilt too 
 intolerable to be borne. Hour after hour, 
 and day after day, did I endeavour to lift my 
 heart to God, to implore forgiveness of my 
 sins, and grace to enable me to lay hold of 
 the promise to the vilest of the vile, through 
 Jesus Christ our Lord. But the Holy Spirit 
 
A SON OF THE FOUEST. 81 
 
 flew not to my relief. I then thought that 1 
 must die and go to hell. 
 
 My convictions were so powerful that I 
 could scarcely eat. I had no relish for food. 
 The anguish of my soul afflicted my body to 
 such a degree that L was almost too weak to 
 perform my labour. Sleep seldom visited 
 my eyelids* My employ er found out that the 
 Lord was teaching me, but he made light of 
 it, and said he was going to heaven across 
 the lots., I thought he might go that way, 
 but for my part, I must take another course. 
 May the Lord forgive him, and teach him the 
 good and the right way. By this time my 
 employer had become good to me, and as I 
 wished to engage elsewhere for six months, 
 my time being out with him, he gave me a 
 recommendation. 
 
 One of the neighbours wished me to join 
 with him six months, so we agreed. They 
 treated me as a brother. But my sins 
 troubled me so much that I had no comfort., 
 My soul was weighed down on account, of 
 my many transgressions, and I was tempted 
 by the enemy of souls to believe that I had 
 committed the unpardonable sin— but he 
 was a liar, as the sequel proved, for after 
 many pra5^ers, and groans, and tears, and 
 sighs, I found some relief. This, at the time,, 
 astonished me, as I was one of the vilest sinn 
 ncrs on the face of the earth. Now I think 
 
82 A SON OP THE FOREST. 
 
 the devil took advantage of me in this man- 
 ner. I have heretofore stated that I asso- 
 ciated with bad company, with such persons 
 as often profaned the holy name of God. I 
 always disliked to hear any one swear, but 
 one day when I was angry, I swore a horrid 
 oath, and the very instant that it passed my 
 hps, my heart beat like the pendulum of a 
 clock, my conscience roared despair and 
 horror like thunder, and I thought I was 
 going to be damned right off. I gave utter- 
 ance to the word without thinking what I 
 was doing; it could not be recalled, and 
 afterwards I thought I would not have said 
 it for all the world. This was the Jifst and 
 the last time that I ever used 'so awful an 
 expression, and I thought this of itself suffi- 
 cient to sink«my soul to the shades of ever- 
 lastmg night. Now the way in which the 
 devil took the advantage of me was this. 
 Whenever I became fervent in my siipplica- 
 tion.s at the throne of mercy for pardon on 
 my guilty soul, he would try to persuade me 
 that I had in uttering the oath referred to 
 forever closed the doot of hope. 
 
 I still continued to pray and attend meet- 
 ings, notwithstanding the work was very 
 hard, and the meeting seven miles off; but 
 I did not neglect attending it a single sab- 
 bath during the summer. I generally re- 
 
A SON OP THE FOREST. 83 
 
 turned as I went, with a heavy heart. I 
 now went to a camp meeting,, but did not 
 experience that depth of enjoyment which I 
 desired. Being determined to persevere in 
 tlie way of well doing, I united with the 
 Methodist Society, that is, on trial, for six 
 months. I had never been at a camp-meet- 
 ing, and of course, knew nothing about it. 
 It far exceeded my expectations. I never 
 witnessed so great a body of christians as- 
 sembled together before — I was also aston- 
 ished with their proceedings — was affected 
 by their pra3'ers — charmed by their songs of 
 praise, and stood gazing at them like a brain- 
 less clown. However, I soon solicited the 
 prayers of this body of christians, for my 
 poor soiil was greatly troubled. But behold, 
 one of the brethren called on me to pray. 
 I began to make excuse, but nothing would 
 do ; he said, pray, and I thought I must. I 
 trembled through fear, and began to wish 
 myself at home; I soon got on my knees, 
 and of all the prayers that man ever heard, 
 this attempt must have exceeded — ^I feared 
 man more than my crelitor God. While en- 
 deavouring to pray, it appeared as if my 
 wprds would choak me — the cold chills run 
 over my body — my feelings were indescri- 
 bably awful. This, however, had a very 
 good effect upon me, as it learned me not 
 
"84 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 to please man so much as God. The camfi 
 meeting was a veiy happy one, I found some 
 comfort, and enjoyed myself tolerably welK 
 The parting scene was very affecting — 
 serious thoughts passed through my mind, 
 as I gazed on this large number of respec- 
 table and happy people^ who were about to 
 separate, and meet not together again till th^ 
 blast of the archangel's trump shall bring 
 them in a twinkling to the judgment seat of 
 Christ. And so it was, for we have never 
 met altogether again — some have taken their 
 everlasting flight. 
 
 When I returned home, I began to tell the 
 family all about the camp meeting, what a 
 blessed time we had, he, but they ridiculed 
 me, saying, we were only deluded. I at- 
 tempted to exhort them to seek an interest in 
 the sinner's friend, but to no purpose, as they 
 only laughed at. me. 
 
 When the* time for which I engaged had 
 expired, I went among my tribe at Groton* 
 I lived this winter with my aunt, who was 
 comfortably situated. She was the hand* 
 maid of the Loru, and being a widow, she 
 rented her lands to the whites, and it brought 
 her in enough to live on. While here we 
 had some very good times. Once in four 
 weeks we had meeting, which was attended 
 by people from Rhode Island, Stonington, 
 
A BO'S OP THE FOREST. 85 
 
 and other places, and generally lasted three 
 days. These seasons were glorious. We 
 observed particular forms, although we knew 
 nothing about the dead languages, except 
 that the knowledge thereof was not neces- 
 sary for us to serve God. We had no house 
 of divine worship, and believing 
 
 " That tJie groves were God's first temples," 
 
 thither we would repair when the weather 
 permitted. The Lord often met with us, 
 and we were happy in spite of the devil. 
 Whenever we separated it was in perfect 
 love and friendship. 
 
 My aunt could not read, but she could 
 almost preach, and in her feeble manner, 
 endeavour to give me much instruction. 
 Poor dear woman, her body slumbers in the 
 grave, but her soul is in the paradise of 
 God — she has escaped from a world of 
 trouble. The whites w^ere anxious to have 
 the honour of burying her; she was interred 
 very decently, the whites being as numerous 
 as the natives. Indeed, all who knew her 
 w'ished to show the veneration in which they 
 held her, by following her remains to their 
 last earthly resting place. Her name was 
 Sally George, and she was deservedly es- 
 teemed for her piety. In her sphere she 
 
 8 
 
86 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 was a very useful woman, and greatly be- 
 loved by all who knew her. She was very 
 attentive to the sick, kind to the unfortunate, 
 good and benevolent to the poor and the 
 fatherless. She would often pour into the 
 ear of the sin-sick soul, the graciously reviv- 
 ing promises of the gospel. While she lay 
 sick, she expresed a desire to go and see 
 her brethren, who lived about eight miles 
 off; she said the Lord would give her 
 strength, and so he did. She then visited 
 her friends, and after enjoying some religi- 
 ous conversation, she returned home to die. 
 The fear of death was now taken away, and 
 she exhorted all around her to be faithful, 
 and serve the Lord. She died in the full 
 triumphs of the faith, on the 6th of May, 
 1824, aged 45 years. In her death, happy 
 as it was, the church had sustained an almost 
 irreparable loss. But 
 
 " She bathes her weary soul, 
 In seas of heavenly rest, 
 Where not a wave of trouble rollt;, 
 Across her peaceful breast." 
 
 The next season I engaged with a Mr, 
 Wright in the same neighbourhood, and con- 
 tinued with him some time. While there I 
 did wrong, as I got angry at the mistress of 
 the house, who by the by, was an extremely 
 passionate woman, and uttered some un- 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 87 
 
 guarded expressions. I found I had done 
 wrong, and instantly made my humble con- 
 fession to Almighty God, and also to my 
 brethren, and obtained forgiveness. I con- 
 tinued to attend meeting, and had many 
 blessed times. The spirit of the Lord moved 
 upon my heart, and I thought it to be my 
 duty to call sinners to repentance. It was 
 determined to have another camp meeting 
 this season, and brother Hyde preached a 
 preparatory sermon from this portion of di- 
 vine truth — ^'' By night, on my bed, 1 sought 
 him whom my soul loveth : I sought him but 
 I found him not. I will rise now, and go 
 about the city ; in the streets, and in the broad 
 ways, I ivill seeJc him whom my soul loveth : 
 I sought him but I found him not. The ivatch- 
 men that go about the city found me : to 
 whom I said, savjye him whom my soul loveth^ 
 It was but a little that I passed from them, 
 but I found him whom my soul loveth : I held 
 him and would not let him go, until I had 
 brought him to my mother'' s house, and unto 
 the chamber of her that had conceived me. I 
 charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, 
 by the roes and by the hinds of the f eld, that 
 ye stir not up, nor awake my love till he 
 please.'*'' — Solomon's Songs, iii, 1. 5. 
 
 After brother Hyde had concluded his 
 sermon, I felt moved to rise and speak. I 
 trembled at the thought ; but believing it a 
 
88 A SON OF THE POKEST. 
 
 duty required of me by my heavenly father, 
 I could not disobey, and in rising to dis- 
 charge this sacred obligation, I found all im- 
 pediment of speech removed ; my heart was 
 enlarged ; my soul glowed with holy fervour, 
 and the blessing of the Almighty sanctified 
 this my first public attempt to warn sinners of 
 their danger and invite them to the marriage 
 supper of the Lamb. I was now in my pro- 
 per element, just harnessed for the work, with 
 the fire of divine love burning on my heart. 
 In this frame of mind I went to camp meet- 
 ing, and here the presence of the Lord was- 
 made manifest — his gracious spirit was pour- 
 ed out upon the people, and while he was pre- 
 sent to cheer and bless his followers, his 
 awakening power sought out the sinner and 
 nailed conviction on his heart. Oh, it was a 
 joyful scene. Here were the followers of the 
 Lord praising him in strains of the liveliest 
 joy — there the broken hearted mourner shed- 
 ding tears of penitential sorrow over the long 
 black catalogue of his offences. Many a gra- 
 cious shower of divine mercy fell on the en- 
 campment — many a hitherto drooping plant 
 revived, and many a desolate and ruined heart, 
 was made the home of new, and happy, and 
 heavenly feelings. I have reason to believe 
 that at least one hundred sinners were re- 
 claimed at this meeting, while many went 
 away with their heads bowed down under a 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. S9 
 
 Sense of their numerous transgressions. 
 Shortly after this meeting, I felt it my duty 
 to observe the ordinance of baptism by 
 immersion, believing it as a scriptural doc- 
 trine. There were three other candidates 
 for this ordinance ; which was administered 
 by Rev. Mr. Barnes, at a place called Bozra, 
 in the month of December, 1818. It was a 
 very solemn, affecting and profitable time ; 
 the Lord in truth was present to bless. 
 
 Shortly after this I felt a desire to see my 
 family connexions again, and therefore left 
 this part of the country, after obtaining a 
 certificate of my standing in society, Sic, as 
 i s generally done by Methodists when they 
 remove from one place to another. Nothing 
 worthy of special notice occurred during my 
 journey, except losing my way one night. It 
 happened in this manner ; — having reached 
 the neighbourhood of my father's residence 
 about sun down, and being extremely- 
 anxious to complete myjourney, I concluded 
 to continue on, as I expected to reach his 
 house by two o'clock in the morning. Un- 
 fortunately I took the wrong road and was led 
 into a swamp. I thought I was not far from 
 the main road as I fancied that I heard teams 
 passing on the other side of the swamp ; and 
 not being aware of the dangerous situation 
 in which I was placed, I penetrated into the 
 labyrinth of darkness with the hope of gain- 
 
 8* 
 
00 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 ing the main road. At every step I became 
 more and more entangled — the thickness of 
 the branches above me shut out the little 
 light afforded b}^ the stars, and to my horror 
 
 1 found that the further I went the deeper 
 the mire ; at last I was brought to a dead 
 stand. I had found it necessary to feel my 
 way with a stick — now it failed in striking 
 on solid ground ; fortunately in groping about 
 I found a pole, which I suppose must have 
 been twelve or fifteen feet long, and thrust- 
 ing it in, met with no better success. I 
 was now amazed ; what to do I knew not ; 
 shut out from the light of heaven — surround- 
 ed by appalling darkness — standing on un- 
 certain ground — and having proceeded so 
 far, that to return, if, possible were as " dan- 
 gerous as to go over." This was the hour 
 of peril — I could not call for assistance on 
 my fellow creatures ; there was no mortal 
 ear to listen to my cr}^ I was shut out from 
 the world, and did not know but that I should 
 perish there, and my fate forever remain a 
 mystery to my friends. I raised my heart 
 in humble prayer and supplication to the fa- 
 ther of mercies, and behold he stretched 
 forth his hand and delivered me from this 
 place of danger. Shortly after I had prayed 
 the Lord to set me free, I found a small 
 piece of solid earth, and then another, so 
 that after much difficidtf% I succeeded in 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 91 
 
 once more placing my feet upon dry ground. 
 I then fell upon my knees and thanked my 
 blessed master for this singular interposition 
 of his providence and mercy. As this cir- 
 cumstance occasioned so much delay, and 
 withal fatigued me so much I did not reach 
 home until daylight. I found my father 
 well, and all the family rejoiced to see me. 
 On this occasion I had an opportunity of 
 making some remarks to the friends who 
 came to see me. My father who was a 
 member of the Baptist church, was much 
 pleased, and what was far better, we had a 
 time of refreshing from the presence of the 
 Lord. I now agreed with my father to tar- 
 ry with him all winter, and he agreed to 
 learn me how to make shoes. — In this new 
 business I made some progress. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 I was now very constant in attending 
 meetings — in the neighbourhood there was a 
 small class of Methodists, firmly united to 
 each other ; I cast in my lot with this little 
 band, and had many precious seasons. They 
 agreed in all points of doctrine but one, and 
 that related to perfect love — some said it was 
 inconsistent, and another said it was not. I 
 
95 A SON OP THE FOREST. 
 
 could not see wherein this inconsistency 
 manifested itself, as we were commanded to 
 love God with all our hearts, and contend for 
 that faith once delivered to the saints. 
 
 While in Colreign the Lord moved upon 
 my heart in a peculiarly powerful manner, 
 and by it I was led to believe that I was cal- 
 led to preach the gospel of our Lord and 
 Saviour Jesus Christ. Li the present day, a 
 great variety of opinion prevails respecting 
 the holy work. We read in the bible that in 
 former days, holy men spoke as they were 
 moved by the Holy Ghost. I think this is 
 right, and believe more in the validity of 
 such a call than in all the calls that ever is- 
 sued from any body of men united. My ex- 
 ercises were great — my soul was pained 
 when the Lord placed before me the depra- 
 vity of human nature. — I commenced search- 
 ing the scriptures more diligently, and the 
 more I read, the more they opened to my 
 understanding ; and something said to me, 
 " go now and warn the people to flee from 
 the wrath to come !" and I began immedi- 
 ately to confer with flesh and blood, excusing 
 myself, saying, Lord I cannot. I was 
 nothing but a poor ignorant Indian, and 
 thought the people would not hear me. But 
 my mind was the more distressed, and I be- 
 gan to pray more frequently to God to let 
 this ''cup pass from me." In this manner 
 
A SOH OP THE FOREST. 93 
 
 was I exercised day by day; but in the eve- 
 ning I would find myself in our little meetings 
 exhorting sinners to repentance, and striving 
 to comfort the saints. On these occasions I 
 had the greatest liberty. Now I did not ac- 
 quaint my brethren with my feelings or exer- 
 cises, for the devil tempted me to believe 
 that they would take no notice of it. At 
 length the spell that bound me was broken. 
 I dreamt one night that I was about taking a 
 journey, that my road lay through a miry 
 place, in a dark and dreary way. It was 
 with no little difficulty that I descended the 
 steep. Then I beheld at some distance be- 
 fore me a large plain, on which the sun 
 shone with perfect brightness, and when I 
 succeeded in reaching this plain, all at once 
 an angel of the blessed Lord stood in my 
 way. After having addressed me, he read 
 some extracts from St. John's gospel, res- 
 pecting the preaching of the word of life. 
 This dream was the means of troubling me 
 still more. 
 
 I now requested if the Lord had called 
 me to this holy work, that he would make it 
 manifest by a sign. So one day, after prayer, 
 I went to a friend, and told him if he was 
 willing to give out an appointment for meet- 
 ing at his house, I would try and exhort. 
 He assented, and in giving out the appoint- 
 ment he made a mistake as he informed the 
 
94 A SON OP THE FOREST. 
 
 people that there would be a sermon instead 
 of an exhortation, and when I attended, in 
 place of finding a few persons at my friend's 
 house, I found a large congregation assem- 
 bled at the school-house. I now thought I 
 was in a sad predicament — I had never 
 preached; but I called mightily upon God for 
 assistance. When 1 went in, every eye was 
 fixed on me, and when I was commencing 
 the meeting, it appeared as if my confidence 
 in God was gone, my lips quivered, my voice, 
 trembled, my knees smote together, and in 
 short I quaked as it were with fear. But the 
 Lord blessed me. Some of the people 
 were pleased, and a few displeased. Soon 
 after this, I received an invitation to hold a 
 meeting in the same place again. I accord- 
 ingly went, and I found a great concourse 
 of people who had come out to hear the 
 Indian preach, and as soon as I had commen- 
 ced, the sons of the devil began to show 
 their front — and I was treated not with the 
 greatest loving kindness, as one of them 
 threw an old hat in my face, and this exam- 
 ple was followed by others, who threw sticks 
 at me. But in the midst I went on with my 
 sermon, and spoke from 2 Pet. ii. 9. The 
 Lord Jcnoweth how to deliver the godly out of 
 temptations, and to reserve the unjust until the 
 day of judgment, to be punished. The Lord 
 laid too his helping hand ; the sons of night 
 
A SON OF THE FOKEST. 95 
 
 were confused. Now I can truly say that a 
 native of the forest cannot be found in all 
 our country, who would not blush at the bad 
 conduct of many who enjoy in a pre-emi- 
 nent degree the light of the gospel* But so it 
 is, that in the very centre of gospel light and 
 influence, thousands of immortal souls are 
 sitting in darkness, or walking in the valley 
 of the shadow of death ! It is the truth, and 
 a melancholy truth indeed ! 
 
 I had an invitation to speak at another 
 place about nine miles distant. Still, I was 
 not satisfied ; and I made it a subject of con- 
 stant and serious prayer — I implored the 
 Lord all the way, that if I w^as truly called 
 to preach the everlasting gospel, I might 
 have some token of his favour. I found the 
 congregation large and respectful, and I 
 spoke from Jeremiah, vi. 14. We had a 
 good time, but nothing special occurred. 
 The congregation in the afternoon was much 
 larger than in the morning, and it was im- 
 pressed upon my mind to speak from this 
 portion of the holy scriptures — The Lord 
 Jcnoweth hovj to deliver the godly out of temp- 
 tation^ and reserve the unjust to the day of 
 judgment to be punished. The Lord gave 
 me strength, and we had a most gracious 
 and glorious exhibition of his presiding 
 presence, as many wept bitterly on account 
 of their sins, while the saints of the most 
 
96 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 high rejoiced in the prospect of a complete 
 and triumphant dehverance from the power 
 of their sworn and cruel foe. Nor\v I was 
 assured that my call was of God, and I re- 
 turned home praising Him.. 
 
 Shortly after this, my father began to 
 oppose me — perhaps he thought with some 
 of the whites, that there were enough preach- 
 ers in the land already. Be this as it may, 
 I continued to exercise my gift, and preach- 
 ed wherever a door w as opened, and I trust 
 with some success. 
 
 It was now nearly time for the Conference 
 to commence its session, and one of our 
 circuit preachers very kindly told me that I 
 had better desist until I should have ob- 
 tained a licence, if I did not I would break 
 the rules of the church — but I had already 
 violated these. Considering my youth and 
 good intentions, he Qverlooked this con- 
 ceived error, and informed me that if I 
 waited patiently, I should have a license to 
 exercise my gift by way of exhortation, and 
 that the preacher who Avas to succeed him 
 would think it wrong if he found me holding 
 meetings without authority from my brethren, 
 and I partly consented. But the time was 
 so long before the matter could be finally 
 regulated, that I could not sheath my sword, 
 and having on the armor, I took the field, 
 
A SON OP THE FOREST. 97 
 
 and preached till the new elder come among 
 us ; and when he found me preaching, what 
 do you think he did? why, he placed me 
 under censure. Now he wanted me to con- 
 fess that I was in error ; but I was such a 
 blind Indian that I could not see how I was 
 in error in preaching Christ Jesus, and Him 
 crucijiedf and of course could not conscienci- 
 ously confess as erroneous that which I believed 
 to be right. He told me that if I luas right, not 
 to confess, but as I did not confess he cast 
 me out of the church, showing plainly that 
 he believed that no person is called of God to 
 preach his word unless ordained of man ! No 
 comment is necessary on this fact. 
 
 This unkind treatment as I regarded it, 
 had nearly proved the ruin of my soul. The 
 waters of affliction had well nigh overwhel- 
 med me — my hopes were drowned, and 
 having been excluded from the pales of the 
 church, I viewed myself as an outcast from 
 society* Now the enemy sought to prevail 
 against me, and for a season overcome me, 
 I gave way for a little while, but soon re- 
 turned to my first love, I went then to nay 
 native tribe where meetings were still kept 
 up — I tarried here but a short time, and then 
 went to Old Saybrook ; here I found a few 
 Methodists, but they were too feeble to form 
 a society, as persecution was at its heighth. 
 There were also a few coloured people who 
 
 9 
 
98 A SON OP THfl FOREST. 
 
 met regularly for reli||ous worship ; with 
 these I sometimes assernhled. 
 
 About this time I met with a woman of 
 nearly the same colour as myself — she bore 
 a pious and exemplary chavacter. After a 
 short acquaintance, we were united in the 
 sacred bonds of" marriage ; and now I was 
 going on prosperously ; but at last a calamity 
 fell upon me, which nearly crushed me to 
 the dust. A man exacted work of me, for a 
 debt that I did not honestly owe, and while 
 making his shoes, I concluded to pay myself, 
 which I did — immediately my conscience 
 smote me, but I could not replace it in time, 
 so I made ampie restitution, and a frank con- 
 fession before all my brethren — and the Lord 
 was good, for he wiped out the blot, and re- 
 stored me to his favour. I then went to Mid- 
 dletown, and remained a short tirhe, where I 
 got out of business, crossed over the river, 
 and agreed to serve a tavern-keeper for one 
 month. I now sought every opportunity to 
 be alone, and when my month was up, I re- 
 ceived my wages and sent it to my wife. I 
 had now to seek another place, and as I went 
 along, I prayed that my family might not 
 suffer, as I knew that they were innocent, 
 and my little ones too small to help them- 
 selves. After a little while, the Lord opened 
 the way, and I obtained a situation with a 
 Mr. Hail, in Gloucester, for two months, at 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 99 
 
 twelve dollars a month. It being harvest 
 time, my employer allowed each of his hands 
 a half pint of spirits every day. I told him 
 I did not want my portion, so he agreed to 
 pay me a little more. I abstained entirely, 
 and found that 1 could ngt only stand labour 
 as ivell, but perform more than those who 
 drank the spirits. All the hands exclaimed 
 against me, and said that I would soon give 
 out; but I was determined that touch not 
 taste not, handle not, should be my motto ; 
 God supported me, and I can truly say, that 
 my health was better, my appetite improved, 
 and my mind was calm. My general drink 
 was molasses or milk and water. Some 
 persons say, that they cannot do without 
 spirituous liquors, but I say it is. a curse to 
 individuals, to families, to communities, to 
 the nation and to the world at large. 1 
 could enlarge on this momentuous subject — 
 I could speak from experience, as I have too 
 often felt its baneful effects, but as I intend, 
 if the Lord spares me, to publish an essay 
 on Intemperance, I leave it for the present. 
 When my time was out, Mr Hail paid me 
 like a gentleman, and also gave me three 
 dollars and twenty-five cents, in lieu of the 
 spirits — a sum sufficient to buy my poor 
 dear children some clothes. The family 
 were loth to part with me, as I had endea- 
 
100 A SON OP THE FOUEST. 
 
 voured to live a godly life — I held a prayer 
 meeting with them, and departed with tears 
 in my eyes. 
 
 I now bent my course for Hartford, and 
 engaged labour work at twenty dollars a 
 month — then I went home, and spent one 
 week with my dear family, and according to 
 my engagements, returned to Hartford, but 
 my place was taken up, and I did not know 
 what to do. While in this extremity, a 
 thought struck me — I remembered that I 
 had a sister living in Providence. Thither 
 I went, and soon found my sister, who was 
 very kind to me. I had no difficulty in pro- 
 curing work. The spirit of the Lord now 
 fell afresh upon me, and I at once entered 
 into the work without conferring wdth flesh 
 and blood. I appointed meeting for ex- 
 hortation, and pra3^er — the Lord blessed my 
 feeble efforts, and souls were converted and 
 added to the church. I continued here five 
 months, and then taking a letter of recom- 
 mendation, returned to my family; and 
 when I had concluded to remove to Provi- 
 dence, as the place of my future residence, 
 the society gave me a certificate to the 
 church in Providence — I there joined, and 
 I was shortly appointed to the office of class- 
 leader, which office I filled for two years. 
 I now obtained a verbal permission to ap- 
 point meetings, from Brother Webb, the 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 101 
 
 preacher in charge. Brother Kent suc- 
 ceeded him. After this change I apphed 
 for a licence to exhort — but I was opposed 
 by two or three persons on account of not 
 having Hved long enough in the place. The 
 rest of the class, about thirty in number, 
 were anxious that I should have a licence, 
 and a division had like to have been the 
 consequence of withholding it from me. In 
 a month or two after, the affair was settled 
 to mutual satisfaction, and it was agreed that 
 I should have licence to exhort. I went 
 from place to place, improving my gift, and 
 the Lord blessed my labours. I now felt it 
 more strongly my duty, and an inward satis- 
 faction in preaching the "word." Some- 
 times, however, the evil one would tempt 
 me to give it up, but instantly my conscience 
 would reprove me. Many a severe combat 
 have I had with the enemy repecting my 
 competency, and I come to the conclusion 
 that if I could not give ^^ refined P^ instruc- 
 tion, and neglected to discharge my duty to 
 God and my fellow men on that account, I 
 could not enjoy his smiles. So I was de- 
 termined in the strength of the Lord to go 
 on in the way wherein I was called. 
 
 My mind was now exercised about en- 
 tering the work as a missionary. I prayed 
 to the Lord, if it was his will to open the 
 way, as I was poor, and had a family to 
 
 9* 
 
J 03 A SON OP THE POnEST. 
 
 maintain, and did not wish to depend upon 
 public charity. My desire was to do some- 
 thing at the same time that would enable me 
 to keep my family. Now a gentleman 
 wished me to take out some religious books, 
 and sell them. I did so, and went praying 
 to God all the way to bless me — and so he 
 did, and his blessing attended my labours 
 wherever I went. I had also some success 
 in selling my books, and made enough to 
 support my little family and defray my 
 necessary travelling expenses. So I con- 
 cluded to travel, and the Lord went with 
 me. In one of these excursions, I went over 
 on Long Island, and from thence to New- 
 York, where my bodily strength was re- 
 duced by a fever. Here in the hour of sick- 
 ness the Lord was with me — I experienced 
 his comforting presence, the kindness of 
 friends, and the quiet of a peaceful conscience. 
 It was a sore trial for me to be absent, in 
 such a situation, from my family, but it "was 
 good to be afllicted" — and how beautiful was 
 this passage of scripture fulfilled which says, 
 Seek first the kingdom of heaveuy and all 
 things else shall he added. How beautiful 
 and numerous are his promises, and how 
 strikingly fulfilled. I have seen all these 
 promises verified. Blessings unnumbered 
 and undeserved showered upon me. 
 
A SON OP THE FOREST. 105 
 
 From New-York I went to Albany, stop- 
 ping at the different villages, and exhorting 
 the people to repentance, and the Lord 
 seconded my efforts. I was very sick for 
 about one month, and my friends thought I 
 would not recover ; but although I was very 
 much reduced, I did not think my sands had 
 yet run their course — I believed that God 
 would spare me to preach his Gospel; and 
 according to my faith it was, for I speedily 
 recovered, and commenced again my labour 
 of love. On Arbour Hill the Lord poured 
 out his spirit in a powerful manner. Here a 
 class of about thirty members was organized, 
 and at a number of places where I laboured 
 several were added, but how many in the 
 whole I cannot say precisely; let it suffice 
 that through my instrumentality some souls 
 were brought from a state of sin and dark- 
 ness to the light and favour of God — to whom 
 be all the glory ascribed. 
 
 After having been absent six montlis I re- 
 turned home and found my dear family and 
 friends in the enjoyment of their usual health. 
 After remaining about a fortnight, I went to 
 Boston. Here the Lord blessed my labours 
 among the friends of the cross. While in 
 Boston I met with a professed infidel, who 
 wished to draw me into an argument, by 
 hooting at me for believing in Jesus Christ, 
 the Saviour of fallen men. I spoke to him 
 
104 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 about being a good gentleman, and he re- 
 plied that I in common with my brethren be- 
 lieved that no man was a gentleman unless he 
 was under the influence of priestcraft ; and 1 
 told him, that I considered every man a gen- 
 tleman who acted in a becoming manner. 
 He then asked by what authority I believed in 
 Jesus Christ as my Saviour; I answered, by 
 an internal witness in my soul, and the enjoy- 
 ment of that peace emanating from this Sa- 
 viour, which the "world can neither give or 
 take away." This stirred his passions, and 
 he said, 1 suppose you think 1 am an Atheist, 
 to which I replied in the negative, and as- 
 sured him that he was an infidel. I then 
 spoke to him of Jesus Christ and his Apos- 
 tles; and he replied, that they w-ere all fools 
 together, and I was as great a one as ^cay. 
 He turned pale, and looked as if he would 
 have swallowed me up alive — and I gave 
 him an exhortation, and went on my way. 
 After spending about two months in Boston, I 
 returned home ; then I visited New-Bedford 
 Martha's Vineyard, and Nantucket, preach- 
 ing the word wherever a door was opened — 
 stnd the Lord was not unmindful of me, his 
 presence accompanied me, and I believe 
 that much good was done. Again I visited 
 my family, and then went to Salem, and I 
 bund many precious souls. We held several 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 106 
 
 meetings, and the Lord came forth in the 
 galleries of grace, and my labour of love 
 proved very profitable to the. dear people, 
 and when I left them the parting scene was 
 ver}^ affecting. I now visited the different 
 towns, preaching as 1 went along, until I 
 reached Nevvbur3^port, and having taken 
 letters of recommendation from the various 
 preachers, I was kindly received, and re- 
 porting m3'self to Brother Bartholomew 
 Otheman the preacher in charge, he pro- 
 vided lodgings for me. It so happened that 
 Brother John Foster, his colleague, was sick, 
 and they needed some help, and I thought 
 the brethren were glad that I had come 
 among them. At night I preached for 
 Brother Otheman, and the next evening in 
 the church where Brother Foster officiated, 
 and an appointment was given out for me to 
 preach in the course of the next Sunday at 
 the same church, but having an intercourse 
 in the mean time with Brother Foster, and 
 finding him highly tinctured with Calvinism, 
 I thought I would converse freely with him 
 on the subject. This course soured his 
 mind against me, and he gave out my future 
 appointments in such a way that I thought 
 best to preach the word in the dwelling 
 houses of the inhabitants ; and I had as many 
 hearers as I could have wished, and I blesf 
 the Lord that much good was done in his 
 
106 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 name. I made several attempts towards a 
 reconciliation — he could hear no proposals 
 — I could make no concessions, as I had not 
 injured or given him any cause of offence, 
 and he went on to persecute me, notwith- 
 standing the remonstrances of his brethren. 
 My motives were pure, and I bless the Lord 
 that a day will come when the secrets of all 
 hearts shall be revealed. I forgive the poor 
 man for all the injury he attempted to do 
 me, and I hope the righteous judge of all 
 men, will also forgive him. 
 
 From Newburyport I went to Portland, 
 Maine, where I had some gracious times, 
 and laboured with success, and then return- 
 ed to my abiding place at Providence, R. I. 
 with a recommendation. I reported myself 
 to the preacher in charge, and asked for 
 a certificate he said that my recommenda- 
 dation was "genuine," but he had heard 
 evil reports respecting me, and preferred 
 inquiring into the matter before he granted 
 my request. I felt glad that the brother 
 had promised to make inquiry, as I knew 
 that I should come out well. As this 
 would take some time I crossed over to 
 Long Island, preached at Sag Harbour and 
 other places with success, and then went to 
 New York, where I remained but a short 
 time and then proceeded to Albany. Here 
 I was known, and was received in a friendly 
 
A SON OF THE FOREST. 107 
 
 way, and continued to preach wherever an 
 opportunity ofiered ; while here a certificate 
 of my membership was received from the 
 church in Providence, and on the force of it 
 I entered the church. I now appHed for 
 license to preach, and was recommended to 
 the quarterly conference as a suitable candi- 
 date, but the conference thought differently ; 
 so after improving my gift three months I 
 made another application. 
 
 I had been advised by the preachers to 
 improve on Watervliet circuit in order that 
 they might have an opportunity to form an 
 estimate of my talents and usefulness, and 
 this was right. I accordingly went forward 
 with fear and trembling, but the Lord ena- 
 bled me to take up the cross, and stood by 
 me at this time. Several, I trust, through 
 my instrumentality, passed from death unto 
 life. I held meetings in Albany, and crowds 
 flocked out, some to hear the truth, and 
 others to 5ee the "Indian." The worth of 
 souls lay near my heart, and the Lord was 
 pleased to own the labours of his feeble 
 servant. From Albany I went to Bath, 
 where the power of the Almighty was felt in 
 a wonderful manner, it appeared as though 
 all the inhabitants were engaged in seeking 
 the salvation of their souls — many wept bit- 
 terly and cried aloud for mercy, and seven or 
 eight in the judgment of charity passed from 
 
lOS A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 dtath unto life. I then went on to my ap- 
 pointment at Watervliet, and here the Lord 
 was present to awaken sinners and reclaim 
 backsliders. 
 
 At Troy I found a number of good Chris- 
 tian friends, with whom I had several very 
 good meetings, and the power of the Lord 
 was made manifest. One evening as I was 
 preaching to some coloured people, in a 
 school house, the power of the Lord moved 
 on the congregation, both white and colour- 
 ed — hard hearts began to melt, and inquire 
 what they must do to be saved. We had a 
 very refreshing scasori from the ])resence of 
 the Lord. 
 
 I now went into all surrounding villa- 
 ges preaching the word of eternal life 
 and exhorting sinners to repentance. Be- 
 fore the quarterly meeting, I took a tour to 
 the west, as far as Utica, holding meetings 
 by the way and I found God as precious as 
 ever, and being absent three weeks, I return- 
 ed in order to attend the conference, which 
 was to be held on the 11th of April. 
 
 I can truly say that the spirit of prejudice 
 is no longer an inmate of my bosom ; the 
 sun of consolation has warmed my heart, 
 and by the grace of God assisting me, I am 
 determined to sound the trump of the gospel 
 — to call upon men to turn and live. Look 
 brethren, at the natives of the forest — they 
 
A SON OF THE FORESf. 109 
 
 come, notwithstanding you call ibem 
 " savage j^' from the '' east and from the 
 west, the north, and the south," and will oc- 
 cupy seats in the kingdom of heaven before 
 you. Let us one and all " contend" va- 
 liently " for that faith once delivered to the 
 saints"; and if we are contented, and love 
 God with all our hearts, and desire the en- 
 joyment of his peaceful presence, we shall 
 be able to say with the poet, 
 
 " Let others stretch their arms like seas, 
 And grasp in all the shore ; 
 Grant me the visit?; of his grace, 
 And I desire no more. 
 
 Now, my dear reader, I have endeavoured 
 tq give you a short but correct statement of 
 the leading features of my life. When I 
 think of what I am, and how wonderfully 
 the Lord has led me, I am dumb before 
 him. When I contrast my situation with 
 that of the rest of my family, and many of 
 my tribe, I am led to adore the goodness of 
 Gt3d. When I reflect upon my many mis- 
 deeds and wanderings, and the dangers to 
 which I was consequently exposed, I am lost 
 in astonishment at the long forbearance, and 
 the unmerited mercy of God. I stand be- 
 fore you as a monument of his unfailing 
 goodness — may that same mercy which has 
 upheld me. still be my portion — and may 
 
 10 
 
110 A SON OF THE FOREST. 
 
 author and reader be preserved until the 
 perfect day, and dwell forever in the para- 
 dise of God. 
 
 WILLIAM APES. 
 
MpvtnXdv. 
 
INTRODUCTIOX. 
 
 Believing that some general observations 
 on the origin' and character of the Indians, 
 as a nation, would be acceptable to the nu- 
 merous and highly respectable persons who 
 have lent their patronage to his work, the 
 subscriber has somewhat abridged " his life" 
 to make room for this Appendix. In the 
 following pages the reader will find some 
 "general observations" touching his breth- 
 ren. He is conscious that they are thrown 
 together without that order that an accom- 
 plished scholar would observe — and he takes 
 this means of saying, that he is indebted in 
 a great measure to the works of the vene- 
 rated BoUDiNOT, late president of the Ame- 
 rican Bible Society, Brainard, Golden, and 
 several other gentlemen, as well as to the 
 newspaper press and missionary journals, 
 for many of the interesting facts, he. which 
 will be found in this department of his work. 
 
 WM. APES. 
 
 10* 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 Ever since the discovery of America by 
 that celebrated navigator, Columbus, the 
 " civilized" or enlightened natives of the old 
 world regarded its inhabitants as an exten- 
 sive race of "savages!" — of course they 
 were treated as barbarians, and for nearly 
 two centuries they suffered widiout inter- 
 mission, as the Europeans acted on die prin- 
 cipal that might makes right — and if they 
 could succeed in defrauding the natives out 
 of their lands, and drive them from the sea- 
 board, they were satisfied for a time. With 
 this end in view, they sought to " engage 
 them in war, destroy them by thousands 
 with ardent spirits, and fatal disorders un- 
 known to them before." Every European 
 vice that had a tendency to debase and ruin 
 both body and soul was introduced among 
 them. Their avowed object was to obtain 
 possession of the goodly inheritance of the 
 Indian, and in their " enlightened" estima- 
 tion, the *' end justified the means." 
 When I reflect upon the complicated ills to 
 which my brethren have been subject, 
 ever since history has recorded their exis- 
 tence — their wanderings, their perils, their 
 privations, and their many sorrows- and the 
 
116 APPENDIX. 
 
 fierceness of that persecution which marked 
 their dwellings and their persons for de- 
 struction — When I take into consideration 
 the many ancient usages and customs ob- 
 served religiously by them, and which have 
 so near and close resemblance to the man- 
 ners, &LC. of the ancient Israelites, I am led 
 to believe that they are none other than the 
 descendants of Jacob, and the long lost tribes 
 of Israel. In view of this subject, the late 
 Mr. Boudinot says, that there is a possibi- 
 lity that these unhappy children of misfor- 
 tune may yet be proved to be the descend- 
 ants of Jacob; and if so, that though cast off 
 for their henious transgressions, they have 
 not been altogether forsaken, and will here- 
 after appear to have been in all their disper- 
 sions and wanderings, the subjects of God's 
 divine protection and gracious care. 
 
 The writer above referred to is of the 
 opinion that if the natives had been favoured 
 with early instruction, and their cause had 
 been faithfully and full}^ represented to pos- 
 terity, " their character would have been 
 considered in a very different point of light 
 from what it now is." It is often said of the 
 •* savages^^ that their mode of carrying on 
 war, and the method of treating their pris- 
 oners, is cruel and barbarous in the ex- 
 treme — but did not the whites set them the 
 brutal eiajuple.'* Wljeu they first visited 
 
APPENDIX. 117 
 
 tliese siioros, they found the wiltleniess, as they 
 called it, teeming- with a healthy and happy 
 population ; here they found, after the first 
 natural impulses of fear had subsided, fast and 
 firm friends in the sons of the forest. And 
 what return did they receive for all their 
 friendship ? 
 
 The following extracts from the Bishop 
 of Chapia, De LAS Cases, who came over 
 from Spain for the purpose of teaching the 
 natives, is directly in point : — 
 
 " I was one of the first who went to Ame- 
 rica.. Neither curiosit}^ nor interest promp- 
 ted me to undertake so long and dangerous 
 a voyage. The saving the souls of the hea- 
 then was my sole object. Why was I not 
 permitted, even at the expense of my blood, 
 to ransom so many thousands of souls, who 
 fell unhappy victims to avarice and lust. It 
 was said that barbarous executions were ne- 
 cessary to punish or check the rebellion of 
 the Americans. But to whom was this owing ? 
 Did not this people receive the Spaniards 
 w^ho first came among them with gentleness 
 and humanit}'? Did they not show more 
 joy in proportion, in lavishing treasure upon 
 them, than the Spaniards did greediness in 
 receiving it ? But our avarice was not yet 
 satisfied. Though they gave up to us their 
 lands and their riches, we would take from 
 them their wives, their children, and their 
 
1 18 APPENDIX. 
 
 liberty. To blacken the characters of these 
 unhappy people, their enemies assert that 
 they are scarce human creatures. But it is 
 we who ought to blush for having been less 
 men, and more barbarous than they. They 
 are represented as a stupid people, and ad- 
 dicted to vice. But have they not con- 
 tracted most of their vices from the exam- 
 ple of christians. But it must be granted 
 that the Indians still remain untainted with 
 many vices usual among Europeans. Such 
 as ambition, blasphemy, swearing, treachery, 
 and many such monsters, which have not 
 yet taken place among them. They have 
 scarce an idea of them. All nations are 
 equally free. One nation has no right to 
 infringe on the freedom of another. Let us 
 do to these people, as we would have them 
 have done to us, on a change of circum- 
 stances. What a strange method is this of 
 propagating the gospel ; that h jl^ law of 
 grace, which, from being slaves to Satan, 
 initiates us into the freedom of the children 
 of God." 
 
 The Abbe Clavigero, another Spanish 
 writer, confirms this idea of the South Ame- 
 ricans. " We have had intimate converse, 
 says he, with the Americans ; have lived 
 some years in a seminary destined for their 
 instruction — attentively observed their cha- 
 racter — their genius — their disposition and 
 
APPENDIX. 1 19 
 
 manner of thinking ; and have besides, ex- 
 amined with the utmost diligence their an- 
 cient histoi'y — their religion-^iheir govern- 
 ment — their laws and their customs. After 
 such long experi^ce and study of them, we 
 declare, that the mental quahties of tiie Ame- 
 icans are not in the least inferior to those of 
 the Europeans." 
 
 Who were the first agressors, and who first 
 imhrued their hands in blood? Not the 
 Indian. No : he treated the stranger as a 
 brother and a friend, until that stranger 
 whom he had received upon his fertile soil, 
 endeavoured to enslave him, and resorted 
 lo brutal violence to accomplish his designs. 
 And if they committed excesses, they only 
 followed in the footsteps of the whites, who 
 must blame themselves for provoking their 
 independent and unyielding spirits, and by a 
 long series of cruelty and bloodshed, drove 
 them to arms. This was the case in the 
 colony of Virginia, where the natives rose 
 upon the whites, who in their turn " waged 
 a destructive w^ar against the Indians, and 
 murdered men women and children." 
 
 Dr. Robertson, in his History of America, 
 says, that the Enghsh, like the Spaniards, 
 regardless of those principles of faith, honour 
 and humanity, which regulate hostilities 
 among civilized nations and set bounds to 
 their rage, seemed to regard every thing 
 
120 APPENDIX. 
 
 iallowable, that tended to accomplish their 
 designs. They hunted the Indians hke wild 
 beasts, rather than enemies ; and as the pur- 
 suit of them to their places of retreat in the 
 woods was both difficult and dangerous, they 
 endeavoured to allure them from their inac- 
 cessible fastnesses, by offers of peace and 
 promises of oblivion, made with such an art- 
 ful appearance of sincerity, as deceived the 
 crafty Indian chief, and induced the Indians 
 to return in the year 1623, to their for- 
 mer settlements, and resume their usual 
 peaceful occupations. The behaviour of the 
 two people seemed now to be perfectly re- 
 versed. The Indians, like men acquainted 
 with the principles of integrity and good 
 faith, on which the intercourse between na- 
 tion^ is founded, confided in the reconcilia- 
 tion, and lived in absolute security, without 
 suspicion of danger ; while the English, with 
 perfidious craft, were preparing to imitate 
 savages in their revenge and cruelty. 
 
 " On the approach of harvest, when a 
 hostile attack would be most formidable and 
 fatal, the English fell suddenly on all the 
 Indian plantations, and murdered every 
 person on whom they could lay hold, and 
 drove the rest to the woods, where so many 
 perished with hunger, that some of the tribes 
 nearest to the English were totally extirpa- 
 ted." 
 
ArrENDix. 121 
 
 Rdberston, again speaking of the war in 
 New-England, between Connecticut and 
 Providence, in their first attempt against the 
 Pequod Indians, says, " that the Indians had 
 secured their town, which was on a rising 
 ground in a swamp, with pallisades. The 
 New-England troops, unperceived. reached 
 the palhsades. The barking of a dog alar- 
 med the Indians, In a moment, however, 
 they started to their arms, and raising the 
 war-cry, prepared to repel the assailants. 
 The English forced their way through into 
 the fort, or town, and setting fire to the 
 huts, which were covered with reeds, the 
 Confusion and terror quickly became general^ 
 Many of the women and children perished 
 in the flames, and the warriors, endeavour- 
 ing to escape, were either slain by the Ep- 
 glish, or falling into the hands of the Indian 
 allies, who surrounded the fort at a distance, 
 Were reserved for a more cruel fate. The 
 English resolved to pursue their victory, 
 and hunting the Indians from one place of 
 retreat to another, some subsequent encoun- 
 ters were hardly less fatal than the first 
 action. In less than three months, the tribe 
 of the Pequods was nearly extirpated. 
 
 " Thus the English stained their laurels 
 by the use they made of victory. Instead 
 of treating the Pequods as an independant 
 people, who made a gallant effort to defend 
 
 U 
 
122 APPENDIX. 
 
 the property ; the rights and freedom of their 
 nation, they retaliated upon them all the 
 barbarities of American war. Some they 
 massacred in cold blood, others they gave 
 up to be tortured by their Indian allies, a 
 considerable number they sold as slaves in 
 Bermuda, the rest were reduced to servitude 
 among themselves." 
 
 Dr. Boudinot says, that this tribe, (the 
 Pequods referred to above) " were a princi- 
 pal nation of the east, and very forcibly re- 
 minds one of the similarity of the same name 
 in Jeremiah, 1. 21. where the inhabitants of 
 Pekod are particularly mentioned ; and also 
 in Ezekiel, xxiii. 2. 3. The difference in 
 spelling one with a Ic and the other with a 
 q, is no uncommon thing, the Indian langua- 
 ges being very gutteral, k is generally used 
 where an Englishman would use the q. 
 
 Columbus was as competent to form a 
 proper estimate of the character of the na- 
 tives as any other man. In his account to 
 his patrons, he says : — ^' I swear to your 
 majesties, that there is not a better people 
 in the world than these; more affectionate, 
 affable, or mild. They love their neigh- 
 bours as themselves. Their language is the 
 sweetest, softest, and most cheerful, for they 
 always speak smiling." 
 
 That the whites were treated by the na- 
 tives ofNew-England, with the utmost kind- 
 
APPENDIX. 123 
 
 ness, there is no doubt. The Rev. Mr. 
 Cushman, in a sermon preached at PI3— 
 mouth, in 1620 thus speaks of the treatment 
 of the Indian to the whites: ^^The Indians 
 are said to be the most cru^l and treache- 
 rous people is all these parts, even like 
 lions, J)iii fQ Kg they have been like lambs, 
 so kind, so submissive and trusty, as a man 
 "^^y truly say, many christians are not so 
 kind or sincere. Though when we came 
 first into this country, we were few, and 
 many of us very sick, a"d many died, by 
 reason of the 'cold and wet, it being the 
 depth of winter, and we having no houses 
 or shelter, yet when there were not six able 
 persons among ns, and th© Indians came 
 daily to us by^hundreds, with their sachems 
 or kings, and might in one hour have made 
 despatch of us; yet such ^ar was upon 
 them, as that they never offered ^s the 
 least injury in word or deed. A^^ by rea- 
 son of one Tisguanto, that lives amoug us, 
 and can speak English, we have daily com- 
 merce with their kings, and can know what 
 is done or intended towards us among the 
 savages." 
 
 Governor Hutchinson bore unqualified 
 testimony to the kindness and courtesy of 
 the natives. The celebrated Wm. Penn, 
 represented them as being a *'kind and be- 
 nevolent people." Mr. Smith, in his ])istory 
 
124 APPENDIX. 
 
 of New-Jersey, says, they manifested the 
 greatest cordiality and friendship for the 
 inhabitants. 
 
 Tiie real character of the aborigines is 
 thus noticed by Father Charlevoix, who 
 had by extensive travel among the tribes 
 scattered from Quebec to New-Orleans, a 
 great opportunity of forming a proper esti- 
 mate of Indian customs, manners, &£C. In 
 speaking of the real character of the nations, 
 he says, " that with a mien and appearance 
 altogether savage ; and with manners and 
 ciistoms which favour the greatest barbarity, 
 they enjoy all the advantages of society. At 
 first view one would imagine them without 
 form of government, laws or subordination, 
 and subject to the wildest caprice. Never- 
 theless, they rarely deviate from certain 
 maxims and usages, founded on good sense 
 alone, which holds the place of law, and 
 supplies in short the want of legal authority. 
 They manifest much stability in their en- 
 gagements they have solemnly entered upon; 
 patience and affliction, as well as submission 
 to what they apprehend to be the appoint^ 
 ment of Providence ; in all this they man^. 
 ifest a nobleness of soul and constancy of 
 mind, at which we rarely arrive with all our 
 philosophy and religion. They are neither 
 slaves to ambition nor interest, the two pas- 
 fijons that have so much weakened in us the 
 
ArPENDIX. 125 
 
 sentiments of humanity, (which the kind au- 
 thor of nature has engraven on the human 
 heart) and kindled those of covetousness, 
 which are yet generally unknown among 
 them." 
 
 " The nearer view we take of our savages, 
 tlie more we discover in them some valuable 
 qualities. The chief part of the principles 
 by which they regulate their conduct ; the 
 general maxims by which they govern them- 
 selves ; and the bottom of their characters, 
 have nothing which appear barbarous. The 
 ideas, though now quite confused, which 
 they have retained of a first Being ; the tra- 
 ces, though almost efiaced, of a religious 
 worship, which they appear formerly to have 
 rendered to the Supreme Deity, and the 
 faint marks which we obsei've, even in their 
 most indifferent actions, of the ancient belief, 
 and the primitive religion, may bring them 
 more easily than we think of, into the way 
 of truth, and make their conversion to Chris- 
 tianity more easily to be effected, than that 
 of more civilized nations." 
 
 Mr. Boudinot after speaking more particu- 
 larly of the general character of the Indian 
 nations — of their kindness to women and 
 children who are taken prisoners, and of 
 their great delicacy towards the former — 
 of their h?aightv tempers. Sec, proceeds to 
 11* 
 
126 APPENDIX. 
 
 the following extract from Wynne's His- 
 of America, he says : — 
 "But let us come nearer home. Who set 
 them the example of barbarity, even to those 
 whom they invaded and plundered of their 
 propert}' — deprived of their lands and ren- 
 dered their whole country a scene of horror, 
 confusion and distress. Wynne, in his histo- 
 ry of America, tells us, Hhatthe New-Eng- 
 land people, in an early day, as we have al- 
 ready seen, made an attack upon the Pequod 
 Indians, and drove eight hundred of them, 
 with about two hundred of their woman and 
 children, into a swamp — a fog arising, the 
 men escaped, except a few, who were either 
 killed or wounded. But the helpless wo- 
 men and children surrendered at discretion. 
 The Sachem's wife, who some time before, 
 had rescued the Weathersfield maidens, and 
 returned them home, was among them. She 
 made two requests, which arose from a ten- 
 derness and virtue not common among sava- 
 ges. 1st. That her chastity might remain 
 unviolated. 2d. That her children might 
 not be taken from her. The amiable sweet- 
 ness of her countenance, and the modest 
 dignity of her deportment, \vere worthy of 
 the character she supported for innocence 
 and justice, and were sufficient to show the 
 Europeans, that even barbarous nations, 
 sometimes produce instances of heroic virtue. 
 
APPENDIX. 1*27 
 
 It is not said by the historian, whether her 
 requests were granted or not, but that the 
 women and children were dispersed through 
 the neighbouring colonies, the male infants 
 excepted, who were sent to the Bermudas,' 
 — 1 vol. 66. Indeed, had the Indians, on 
 their part, been able to answer in writing, 
 they might have formed a contrast between 
 themselves and their mortal enemies, the 
 civilized subjects of Great Britain. They 
 might have recapitulated their conduct in 
 the persecution of Indians, witches and qua- 
 Icei's in New-England. — Indians and Negroes 
 in New-York, and the cruelty with which 
 the aborigines were treated in Virginia. 
 
 "These invaders of a country, (in the 
 peaceable possession of a free and happy 
 people, entirely independent, as the deer of 
 the forests) made war upon them with all 
 the advantage of fire arms and the military 
 knowledge of Europe, in the most barbarous 
 manner — not observing any rules of nations, 
 or the principles of modern vrarfare, much 
 less the benign injunctions of the gospel. 
 They soon taught the Indians b}^ their fatal 
 examples, to retaliate with the most invete- 
 rate malice and diabolical cruelty. The 
 civilized Europeans, though flying from the 
 persecution of the old world, did not hesitate 
 to deny their professed religion of peace and 
 good will to men, by murdering, men, wo- 
 
128 APPENDIX. 
 
 men and cliildren — selling captives as slaves 
 — cutting off the heads, and quartering the 
 bodies of those who were killed, nobly fight- 
 ing for their liberty and their country, in 
 self-defence, and seting them up in various 
 places, in ignoble triumph at their success. 
 Philip, an independant sovereign of the Pe- 
 quods, who disdained to submit, but died 
 fighting at the head of his men, had his head 
 cut off and carried on a pole with great re- 
 joicings, to New Plymouth, where, Wynne 
 says, his skull is to be seen to this day. — 
 Vide vol. 1.106 to 108. 
 
 " This conduct produced greater violence 
 and barbarity on the part of the other na- 
 tions of Indians in the neighbourhood, often 
 joined by French Europeans who acted, at 
 times, worse than the native Indians, and by 
 this means, a total disregard of promises 
 and pledged faith on both sides, became 
 common. — Ibid. 124-6." 
 
 After reading the above, I presume that 
 no person will doubt that great injustice has 
 been done to the Indians, and I also think 
 that no liberal mind will say that they are the 
 only savages. It is a matter of sober fact, 
 that the natives, on their first acquaintance 
 with the Europeans, manifested themselves 
 generous, highminded, kind and hospitable, 
 and these feelings marked all their inter- 
 course with the whites, while they were 
 
APPENDIX. 129 
 
 treated with liumanity ; and it was not till 
 after repeated aggressions on the part of the 
 whites, not until they were overreached, and 
 their friends and relatives carried into hope- 
 less captivity, that they exhibited that deep 
 and settled hatred to the whites, which may 
 very properly be termed an hereditary ani- 
 mosity. 
 
 The social kindness of the Indians has 
 been referred to by many writers. Le Page 
 Du Pratz, says, that they behaved towards 
 each other with a kindness and regard not 
 to be found among civilized nations. In his 
 history of Lousianna, he says, " We are 
 equally charmed with that natural and unaf- 
 fected gravity, which reigns in all their beha- 
 viour, in all their actions, and in the greatest 
 part of their diversions. Also with the 
 civility and deference they show to their 
 equals, and the respect of young people to 
 the aged. And lastly, never to see them 
 quarrel among themselves, with those inde- 
 cent expressions, oaths and curses, so com- 
 mon among us; all which are proofs of good 
 sense and a great command of temper.* In 
 short to make a brief portrait of these peo- 
 ple, with a savage appearance, manners and 
 
 * " I have studied these Indians a considerable num- 
 ber of years, and I never could learn that there eve^- 
 were any disputes or boxing matches nmong eitl>ey 
 the boys ox men." 3 vp^, \oG,^ 
 
130 A^PE^'tnx. 
 
 customs, which are entirely barbarous there 
 is observable ainoDg: them, a social kindness, 
 free from almost all imperfections which so 
 often disturb the peace of society among us, 
 They appear to be without passion ; but 
 they do that in cold blood, and sometimes 
 through principle, which the most violent 
 and unbridled passion produces in those who 
 * give no ear to reason. They seem to lead 
 the most wretched life in the world ; and yet 
 they were, perhaps the only happy people 
 on earth, before the knowledge of the objects 
 wh'ch so work upon and seduce us, had ex- 
 cited in them, desires which ignorance kept 
 in supineness ; but which have not as yet 
 (in 1730) made any great ravages among 
 them. We discover in them a mixture of 
 the fiercest and most gentle manners. The 
 imperfections of wild beasts, and the virtues 
 and qualities of the heart and mind which do 
 the greatest honour to human nature." 
 
 He further observes, " that upon an ac- 
 quaintance with the Indians, he was convin- 
 ced that it was wrong to denominate them 
 savages, as they are capable of making good 
 use of their reason and their sentiments are 
 just. That they have a degree of prudence, 
 faithfulness and generosity, exceeding that of 
 nations who would be offended at being com- 
 pared with them. No people, says he, are 
 more hospitable and free than the Indians. 
 
 .;j.'. 
 
ArPEKDIX. 131 
 
 Hence they may be esteemed a happy peo- 
 ple, if that happiness was not impeded by 
 their passionate fondness for spiritous li- 
 quors, and the foolish notion they hold in 
 common with many professing Christians, of 
 gaining- reputation and esteem by their pow- 
 ess in war." But to whom do they owe 
 their uncommon attachment to both these 
 evils ? Is it not the white people who came 
 to them with destruction in each hand, while 
 we did but deceive ourselves with the vain 
 notion, that we were bringing the glad ti- 
 dings of salvation to them. Instead of this, 
 we have possessed these unoflending people 
 with so horrid an idea of our principles, 
 that among themselves they call us the 
 accursed people; and their great numbers, 
 when first discovered, shew that they had, 
 comparatively, but ie\Y wars before we came 
 among them." 
 
 The Indian character, I have observed 
 before has been greatly misrepresented. 
 Justice has not, and 1 may add. Justice can- 
 not be fully done to them by the historian. 
 My people have had no press to record their 
 sufferings, or to make known their grievan- 
 ces ; on this account many a tale of blood 
 and wo, has never been known to the public. 
 And during the wars betw^een the natives 
 and the whites, the latter could, through the 
 medium of the newspaper press, circulate 
 
132 APPENDIX. 
 
 extensively every exaggerated accotint of 
 *' Indian cruelty," while the poor natives 
 had no means of gaining the public ear. It 
 therefore affords me much gratification to 
 bear testin'iony of the philanthropy of some 
 of the white men, and that his brethren 
 had found compassion in the breasts of 
 those who sought to do justice to the poor 
 despised tribes of the wilderness ; and I 
 cannot refrain from presenting to my readers 
 the following article which originally ap- 
 peared in the Analectic Magazine, during 
 the time that the United States was engaged 
 in a war with the Creek Indians. 
 
 TRAITS OF INDIAN CHARACTER. 
 
 ''The rights of the savage have seldom 
 been deeply appreciated by the white man- 
 in peace he is the dupe of mercenary ra- 
 pacity ; in war he is regarded as a ferocious 
 animal, whose death is a question of mere 
 precaution and convenience. Man is cruelly 
 wasteful of life when his own safety is en- 
 dangered, and he is sheltered by impunity — 
 and little mercy is to be expected from him 
 who feels the sting of the reptile, and is con- 
 scious of the power to destroy. 
 
 " It has been the lot of the unforunate 
 aborigines of this country, to be doubly 
 wronged by the white man — first, driven 
 from their native soil by the sword of the 
 
APPENDIX. 133 
 
 invader, and then darkly slandered by the 
 pen of the historian. The former has treated 
 them like beasts of the fore^ ; the latter has 
 written volumes to justify him in his out- 
 rages. The former found it easier to ex- 
 terminate than to civilize ; the latter to abuse 
 than to discriminate. The hideous appel- 
 lations of savage and pagan, were sufficient 
 to sanction the deadly hostilities of both j 
 and the poor wanderers of the forest were 
 persecuted and dishonoured, not because they 
 were guilty, but because they were ignorant. 
 "The same prejudices seem to exist, and are in 
 common circulation, at the present day. We 
 form our opinions of the Indian character 
 from the miserable hordes that infest our 
 frontiers. These, however, are degenerate 
 beings, enfeebled by the vices of society, 
 without being benefitted by its arts of living. 
 The independence of thought and action, 
 that formed the main pillar of their charac- 
 ter, has been completely prostrated, and the 
 whole moral fabric lies in ruins. Their 
 spirits are debased by conscious inferiority, 
 and their native courage completely daunted 
 by the superior knowledge and power of 
 their enlightened neighbours^ Society has 
 advanced upon them like a many-headed 
 monster, breathing every variety of misery. 
 Before it, went forth pestilence, famine and 
 the sword J and in its train came the slow, 
 
 12 
 
% 
 
 134 APPENDIX. 
 
 but exterminating curse of trade. What the 
 former did not sweep away, the latter has 
 gradually blighted. It has increased their 
 wants, without increasing the means of gra- 
 tification. It has enervated their strength, 
 multiplied their diseases, blasted the powers 
 of their minds, and superinduced on their 
 original barbarity the low vices of civiliza- 
 tion. Poverty, repining and hopeless pov- 
 erty — a canker of the mind unknown to syl- 
 van life — corrodes their very hearts. — They 
 loiter like vagrants through the settlements, 
 among spacious habitations replete with 
 artificial comforts, which only render them 
 sensible of the comparative WTCtchedness of 
 their own condition. Luxury spreads its 
 ample board before their eyes, but they are 
 expelled from the banquet. The forest, 
 which once furnished ihem with ample 
 means of subsistence, has been levelled to 
 the ground — waving fields of grain have 
 sprung up in its place ; but they have no 
 participation in the harvest; plenty revels 
 around them, but they are starving amidst 
 its stores ; the whole wilderness blossoms 
 like a garden, but they feel like the reptiles 
 that infest it. 
 
 " How different was their case while yet 
 the undisputed lord of the soil. Their wants 
 were few, and the means of gratifying tliem 
 within their reach. They saw every one 
 
APPEIVDIX. 135 
 
 around them sharing the same lot, endm-mg- 
 the same hardships, hving in the same cabins, 
 feeding on the same aliments, arrayed in the 
 same rude garments. No roof then rose 
 but what was open to the houseless stranger; 
 no smoke curled among the trees, but he 
 was welcome to sit down by its fire, and join 
 the hunter in his repast. " For," says an 
 old historian of New-England, "their life is 
 so void of care, and they are so loving also, 
 that they make use of those things they enjoy 
 as common goods, and are therein so com- 
 passionate that rather than one should starve 
 through want, they would all starve : thus 
 do they pass their time merrily, not regard- 
 ing our pomp, but are better content with 
 their own, which some men esteem so meanly 
 of." Such were the Indians while in the 
 pride and energy of primitive simplicity : 
 they resemble those wild plants that thrive 
 best in the shades of the forest, but which 
 shrink from the hand of cultivation, and 
 perish beneath the influence of the sun. 
 
 "In the general mode of estimating the 
 savage character, we may perceive a vast 
 degree of vulgar prejudice, and passionate 
 exaggeration, without any of the temperate 
 discussion of true philosophy. No allow- 
 ance is made for the difference of circum- 
 stances, and the operations of principles 
 under which they have been educated. 
 
136 APPENDIX. 
 
 Virtue and vice, though radically the same, 
 yet differ widely in their influence on human 
 ■conduct, according to the habits and maxims 
 of the society in which the individual is 
 reared. No being acts more rigidly from 
 rule than the Indian. His whole conduct is 
 regulated according to some general maxims 
 «arly implanted in his mind. The moral 
 laws that govern him, to be sure, are but 
 few, but then he conforms to them all. The 
 white man abounds in laws of religion, 
 morals, and manners; but how many does he 
 violate ? 
 
 " A common cause of accusation against 
 the Indians is, the faithlessness of their 
 friendships, and their sudden provocations to 
 hostility. But we do not make allowance 
 for their peculiar modes of thinking and 
 feeling, and the principles by which they are 
 governed. Besides, the friendship of the 
 whites towards the poor Indians was ever 
 cold, distrustful, oppressive, and insulting. 
 In the intercourse with our frontiers they are 
 seldom treated with confidence, and are fre- 
 quently subject to injury and encroachment. 
 The solitary savage feels silently but acutely; 
 his sensibilities are not diffused over so wide 
 a surface as those of the white man, but they 
 run in steadier and deeper channels. His 
 pride, his affections, his superstitions, are 
 all directed towards fewer objects, but the 
 
APPENDIX. 137 
 
 wounds inflicted on them are proportionably 
 severe^ and furnish motives of hostility which 
 we cannot sufficiently appreciate. Where a 
 community is also limited in number, and 
 forms, as in an Indian tribe, one great pat- 
 riarchal family, the injury of the individual, 
 is the injury of the whole ; and as their body 
 politic, is small, the sentiment of vengeance 
 is almost instantaneously diffused. One 
 council fire is sufficient to decide the mea- 
 sure. Eloquence and superstition combine 
 to inflame their minds. The orator awa- 
 kens all their martial ardour, and they are 
 wrought up to a kind of religious desperation 
 by the visions of the prophet and the drea- 
 mer. 
 
 "An instance of one of these sudden exas- 
 perations, arising from a motive peculiar to 
 the Indian character, is extant in an old re- 
 cord of the early settlement of Massachusetts. 
 The planters of Pl3aTiouth had defaced the 
 monuments of the dead at Passonagessit, and 
 had plundered the grave of the sachem's 
 mother, of some skins with which it had been 
 piously decorated. Every one knows the 
 hallowed reverence which the Indians en- 
 tertain for the sepulchres of their kindred. 
 Even now, tribes that have passed genera- 
 tions, exiled from the abode of their ances- 
 tors, when by chance they have been travel- 
 ling, on some mission to our seat of govern- 
 *12 
 
138 APPENDIX. 
 
 ment, have been known to turn aside from 
 the highway for many miles distance, and 
 guided by wonderful accurate tradition, have 
 sought some tumulus, buried perhaps in the 
 woods, where the bones of their tribe were 
 anciently deposited; and there have passed 
 some time in silent lamentation over tlie 
 ashes of their forefathers. Influenced by 
 this sublime and holy feeling, the sachem, 
 whose mother's tomb had been violated, in 
 the moment of indignation, gathered his men 
 together, and addressed them in the follow- 
 ing beautifully simple and pathetic harangue 
 ' — an harangue which has remianed unquoted 
 for nearly two hundred years — a pure speci- 
 men of Indian eloquence, and an affecting 
 monument of filial piety in a savage. 
 
 "When last the glorious light of all the 
 sky was underneath this globe, and birds 
 grew silent, I began to settle as my custom 
 is, to take repose. Before mine eyes w'ere 
 fast closed, methought I saw a vision, at 
 which my spirit was much troubled; and, 
 trembling at that doleful sight, a spirit cried 
 aloud — behold, my son whom I have cher- 
 ished, see the breasts that gave thee suck, 
 the hands that lapped thee warm and fed 
 thee oft ! canst thou forget to take revenge of 
 those wild people, who have defaced my 
 monument in a despiteful manner, disdain- 
 ing our antiquities and honourable customs. 
 
appeindix. 139 
 
 See now, the sachem's grave lies like the 
 common people, defaced by an ignoble race. 
 Thy mother doth complain, and implores 
 thy aid against this thievish people, who 
 have newly intruded in our land. If this 
 be suffered I shall not rest quiet in my ever- 
 lasting habitation.- — This said, the spirit 
 vanished, and I, all in a sweat, not able 
 scarce to speak, began to get some strength 
 and recollect ray spirits that were fled, and 
 determined to demand your counsel, and so- 
 licit your assistance." 
 
 Another cause of violent outcry against 
 the Indians, is their inhumanity to the van- 
 quished. This originally arose partly from 
 political and partly from superstitious mo- 
 tives. Where hostile tribes are scanty in 
 their numbers, the death of several warriors 
 completely paralyses their power ; and ma- 
 ny an instance occurs in Indian history, 
 where a hostile tribe, that had long been for- 
 midable to its neighbour, has been broken 
 up and driven away, by the capture of its 
 principal fighting men. This is a strong 
 temptation to the victor to be merciless, not 
 so much as to gratify any cruelty of revenge, 
 as to provide for future security. But they 
 had other motives, originating in a supersti- 
 tious idea, common to barbarous notions, and 
 even prevalent among the Greeks and 
 Romans — that the manes of their deceased 
 
140 APPENDIX. 
 
 friends slain in battle, were soothed by the 
 blood of the captives. But those that are 
 not thus sacrificd are adopted into their 
 families, and treated with the confidence, 
 and affection of relatives and friends ; nay, 
 so hospitable and tender is their entertain- 
 ment, that they will often prefer to remain 
 with their adopted brethren, rather than 
 return to the home and the friends of their 
 youth. 
 
 *'The inhumanity of the Indians towards 
 their prisoners has been heightened since 
 the intrusion of the whites. We have exas- 
 perated what was formerly a compliance 
 with policy and superstition into a gratifica- 
 tion of vengeance. They cannot but be 
 sensible that we are the usurpers of their 
 ancient dominion, the cause of their degra- 
 dation, and the gradual destroyers of their 
 race. They go forth to battle smarting 
 with injuries and indignities which they have 
 individually suffered from the injustice and 
 the arrogance of white men, and they are 
 driven to madness and despair, by the wide 
 spreading desolation and the overwhelming 
 ruin of our warfare. We set them an ex- 
 ample of violence, by burning their villages, 
 and laying waste their slender means of 
 subsistence; and then wonder that savages 
 will not show moderation and magnanimity 
 
APPENDIX. 141 
 
 towards men, who have left them nothing 
 but mere existence and wretchedness. 
 
 " It is a common thing to exclaim against 
 new forms of cruelty, while reconciled by 
 custom, we wink at long established atroci- 
 ties. What right does the generosity of our 
 conduct give us to rail exclusively at Indian 
 warfare. With all the doctrines of Christi- 
 anity, and the advantages of cultivated mo- 
 rals, to govern and direct us, what horrid 
 crimes disgrace the victories of Christian 
 armies. Towns laid in ashes; cities given 
 up to the sword; enormities perpetrated, at 
 which manhood blushes, and history drops 
 the pen. Well may we exclaim at the out- 
 rages of the scalping knife; but where, in 
 the records of Indian barbarity, can we point 
 to a violated female ? 
 
 " We stigmatize the Indians also as cow- 
 ardly and treacherous, because they use 
 stratagem in warfare, in preference to open 
 force ; but in this they are fully authorized 
 by their rude code of honour. They are 
 early taught that stratagem is praiseworthy; 
 the bravest warrior thinks it no disgrace to 
 lurk in silence and take every advantage of 
 his foe. He triumphs in the superior craft 
 and sagacity by which he has been enabled 
 to surprise and massacre an enemy. Indeed, 
 man is naturally more prone to subtlety than 
 open valor, owing to his physical weakness 
 
142 APPENDIX. 
 
 in comparison Vvdth other animals. They 
 are endowed with natural weapons of de- 
 fence ; with horns, with tusks, with hoofs 
 and talons; but man has to depend on his 
 superior sagacity. In all his encounters, 
 therefore, with these, his proper enemies, 
 he has to resort to stratagem ; and when he 
 perversely turns his hostility against his 
 fellow man, he continues the same subtle 
 mode of warfare. 
 
 " The natural principle of war is to do the 
 most harm to our enemy, with the least 
 harm to ourselves ; and this of course is to be 
 effected by cunning. That chivalric kind 
 of courage which teaches us to despise the 
 suggestions of prudence, and to rush in the 
 face of certain danger, is the offspring of so- 
 ciety, and produced by education. It is 
 honourable, because in fact it is the triumph 
 of lofty sentiment over an instinctive repug- 
 nance to pain, and over those selfish yearn- 
 ings after personal ease and security which 
 society has condemned as ignoble. It is an 
 emotion kept up by pride, and the fear of 
 shame ; and thus the dread of real evils is 
 overcome by the superior dread of an evil 
 that exists but in the mind. This may be 
 instanced in the case of a young British 
 officer of great pride, but delicate nerves, 
 who was going for the first time into battle. 
 Being agitated by the novelty and awful 
 
APPENDIX 143 
 
 peril of the scene, he was accosted by another 
 officer, of -a rough and boisterous character 
 — "What, sir," cried he, "do you trem- 
 ble?" "Yes sir," replied the other, "and 
 if you were half as much afraid as I am, you 
 would run away." This young officer sig- 
 nalized himself on many occasions by his 
 gallantry, though had he been brought up 
 in savage life, or even in a humbler and less 
 responsible situation, it is more than proba- 
 ble he could never have ventured into open 
 action. 
 
 " Besides, we must consider how much 
 the quality of open and desperate courage, 
 is cherished and stimulated by society. It 
 has been the theme of many a spirit-stirring 
 song, and chivalric story. The minstrel has 
 sunfj- of it in the loftiest strain of his Ivre — 
 the poet has delighted to shed around it all 
 the splendours of fiction — and even the his- 
 torian has forgotton the sober gravity of 
 narration, and burst forth into enthusiasm 
 and rhapsody in its praise. Triumphs and 
 gorgeous pageants have been its reward — 
 monuments, where art has exhausted its 
 skill, and opulence its treasures have been 
 erected to perpetuate a nation's gratitude 
 and admiration. Thus artificially excited, 
 courage has arisen to an extraordinary and 
 factitious degree of heroism ; and arrayed 
 in all the glorious " pomp and circumstance'* 
 
144 APpENDrx. 
 
 of war, this turbulent qualify has ever bee» 
 able to eclipse many of those quiet, but in- 
 valuable virtues, which silently enoble the 
 human character, and swell the tide of human 
 happiness. 
 
 " But if courage intrinsically consist in the 
 defiance of hunger and pain, the life of the 
 Indian is a continual exhibition of it. He 
 lives in a perpetual state of hostility and 
 risk. — Peril and adventure are congenial to 
 his nature; or rather, seem necessary to 
 existence. Surrounded by hostile tribes, he 
 is always equipped for fight, with his wea- 
 pons in his hands. He traverses vast wilder- 
 nesses, exposed to the hazards of lonely sick- 
 ness, or lurking enemies, or pining famine.^ 
 Stormy lakes present no obstacle to his wan- 
 derings ; in his light canoe of bark, he sports 
 like a feather on their waves, and darts with 
 the swiftness of an arrow down the roaring 
 rapids of the river. — Trackless wastes of 
 snow, rugged mountains, the glooms of 
 swamps and morasses, where poisonous rep- 
 tiles curl among the rank vegetation, are 
 fearlessly encountered by this wanderer of 
 the wilderness. He gains his food by the 
 hardships and dangers of the chase ; he wraps 
 himself in the spoils of the bear, the pan- 
 ther, and the buffalo, and sleeps among the 
 thunders of the cataracts 
 
Ai>i'Eismx. 145 
 
 *' No hero of ancient or modern days can 
 surpass the Indian in his lofty contempt of 
 death, and the fortitude with which he sus- 
 tains all the varied torments with which it is 
 frequently inflicted. Indeed we here behold 
 him rising superior to the white man, merely 
 in consequence of his peculiar education. 
 The latter rushes to glorious death at the 
 cannon's mouth ; the former cooly con- 
 templates its approach, and triumphantly 
 endures it, amid the torments of the knife 
 and the protracted agonies of fire. He even 
 takes a savage delight in taunting his perse- 
 cutors, and provoking their ingenuity of 
 torture ; and as the devouring flames prey 
 on his very vitals, and the flesh shrinks from 
 the sinews, he raises his last song of triumph, 
 breathing the defiance of an unconquered 
 heart, and invoking the spirits of his fathers 
 to witness that he dies without a groan. 
 
 " Notwithstanding all the obloquy with 
 which the early historians of the colonies 
 have overshadowed the characters of the 
 unfortunate natives, some bright gleams will 
 occasionally breakthrough, that throw a de- 
 gree of melancholy lustre on their memo- 
 ries. Facts are occasionally to be met with, 
 in their rude annals, which, though recorded 
 with all the colouring of prejudice and bigo- 
 try, yet speak for themselves ; and will be 
 
 13 
 
146 APPENDIX. 
 
 dwelt on with applause and sympathy, when 
 prejudice shall have passed away. 
 
 " In one of the homely naratives of the 
 Indian wars in New-England, there is a 
 touching account of the desolation carried 
 into the tribe of the Pequod Indians. Hu- 
 manity shudders at the cold-blooded accounts 
 given, of indiscriminate butchery on the part 
 of the settlers. In one place we read of the 
 surprisal of an Indian fort in the night, when 
 the wigwams were wrapped in flames, and 
 the miserable inhabitants were shot down and 
 slain, in attempting to escape, " all being 
 dispatched and ended in the course of an 
 hour." After a series of similar transac- 
 tions, " Our soldiers," as the historian 
 piously observes, " being resolved by God's 
 assistance to make a final destruction of 
 them." The unhappy savages being hunted 
 from their homes and fortresses, and pursued 
 with fire and sword, a scanty but gallant 
 band, the sad remnant of the Pequod war- 
 riors, with their wives and children, took 
 refuge in a swamp. 
 
 " Burning with indignation, and rendered 
 sullen by despair — with hearts bursting wdth 
 grief at the destruction of their tribe, and 
 spirits galled and sore at the fancied igno- 
 miny of their defeat, they refused to ask 
 their lives at the hands of an insulting foe, 
 and preferred death to submission. 
 
APPENDIX. 147 
 
 " As the night drew on they were sur- 
 rounded in their dismal retreat, in such 
 manner as to render escape impracticable. 
 Thus situated, their enemy ''plied them 
 with shot all the time, by which means many 
 were killed and buried in the mire. In the 
 darkness and fog that precedes the dawn of 
 day, some few broke through the besiegers 
 and escaped into the woods ; " the rest were 
 left to the conquerers, of which many were 
 killed in the swamp, like sullen dogs who 
 would rather, in their self-willedness and 
 madness, sit still and be shot through, or cut 
 to pieces," than implore for mercy. When 
 the day broke upon this handful of forlorn, 
 but dauntless spirits, the soldiers we are 
 told, entered the swamp, "saw several 
 heaps of them sitting close together, upon 
 whom they discharged their peices, laden 
 with ten or twelve pistol bullets at a time ; 
 putting the muzzles of their peices under 
 the boughs, within a few yards of them ; so 
 as, besides those that were found dead, many 
 more were killed and sunk into the mire, 
 and never were minded more by friend or 
 foe." 
 
 "Can any one read this plain unvarnished 
 tale, without admiring the stern resolution, 
 the unbending pride, and loftiness of spirit, 
 that seemed to nerve the hearts of these 
 self taught heroes, and raise them above the 
 
148 AITENDIX. 
 
 instinctive feelings of human nature ? When 
 the Gauls laid waste the city of Rome, they 
 found the nobles clothed in their robes, and 
 seated with stern tranquility in their curule 
 chairs ; in this manner they suffered deaths 
 without an attempt at supplication or resis- 
 tance. Such conduct in them was applau- 
 ded as noble and magnanimous ; in the 
 hapless Indian it was reviled as obstinate 
 and sullen. How much are we the dupes <of 
 show and circumstance! How different is 
 virtue arrayed in purple, and enthroned iu 
 state, from virtue destitute and naked, redu- 
 ced to the last stage of wretchedness, and 
 perishing obscurely in a wilderness. 
 
 ^' Do these records of ancient excesses 
 fill us with disgust and aversion ? Let us 
 take heed that we do not suffer ourselves to 
 be hurried into the same iniquities. Pos- 
 terity lifts up its hands with horror at past 
 misdeeds; because the passions that urged 
 to them, are not felt, and the arguments that 
 persuaded to them are forgotten; but we 
 are reconciled to the present perpetration 
 of injustice by all the selfish motives with 
 which interest chills the heart and silences 
 the conscience. Even at the present ad- 
 vanced day, when we should suppose that 
 enlightened philosophy had expanded our 
 minds, and true religion had warmed our 
 hearts into philanthrophy — when we have 
 
APPENDIX. 149 
 
 been admonished b}^ a sense of past trans- 
 gressions, and insructed by the indignant 
 censures of candid history — -even now, we 
 perceive a disposition breaking out to renew 
 the persecutions of these hapless beings. 
 Sober-thoughted men, far from the scenes 
 of danger, in the security of cities and popu- 
 lous regions, can cooly talk of ** extermina- 
 ting measures," and discuss the policy of 
 extirpating thousands. If such is the talk of 
 the cities, what is the temper displayed on 
 the borders ? The sentence of desolation 
 has gone forth — " the roar is up amidst the 
 woods;" implacable wrath, goaded on by 
 interest and prejudice, is ready to confound 
 all rights, trample on all claims of justice 
 and humanity, and to act over those scenes 
 of sanguinary vengeance which have too 
 often stained the pages of colonial history. 
 These are not the idle suggestions of fancy ; 
 they are wrung forth by facts, which still 
 haunt the public mind. 
 
 *'As yet our government has in some 
 measure restrained the tide of vengeance, 
 and inculcated lenity towards the hapless 
 Indians. Such temper is worthy of an 
 enlightened government — let it still be ob- 
 served — let sharp rebuke and signal pun- 
 ishment be inflicted on those who abuse 
 their delegated power, and disgrace their 
 victories with massacre and conflagration. 
 
 13* 
 
J 50 APPENDIX. 
 
 The enormities of the Indians form no excuse 
 for the enormities of white men. It has 
 pleased heaven to give them but limited 
 powers of mind, and feeble lights to guide 
 their judgments : it becomes us who are 
 blessed with higher intelects to think for 
 them, and set them an example of humanity. 
 It is the nature of vengeance, if unrestrained, 
 to be headlong in its actions, and to lay up, 
 in a moment of passion, ample cause for an 
 age's repentance. We may roll over these 
 miserable' beings with our chariot wheels, 
 and crush them to the earth ; but when pas- 
 sion has subsided, and it is two late to pity or 
 to save — we shall look back with unavailing 
 compunction at the mangled corses of those 
 whose cries were unheeded in the fury of 
 our career. 
 
 ''In a little while, the remaining tribes 
 will go the way that so many have gone 
 before. The few hoixies that still linger 
 about the shores of Huron and Superior, 
 and the tributary streams of the Mississippi, 
 will share the fate of those tribes that once 
 lorded it along the proud banks of the Hud- 
 son ; of that gigantic race that are said to 
 have existed on the borders of the Susque- 
 hanna, and of those various nations, that 
 flourished about the Potowmac and the 
 Rappahanoc, and that peopled the forests of 
 the vast valley Shenandoah. They will 
 
APPENDIX. loi 
 
 vanish like a vapour from the face of the 
 earth — their very history will be lost in 
 forgetfulness — and " the places that now 
 know them, will know them no more for- 
 ever." 
 
 " Or if perchance some dubious memorial 
 of them should survive the lapse of time, it 
 may be in the romantic dreams of the poet, 
 to populate in imagination his glades and 
 groves, like the fauns and satyrs, and sylvan 
 deities of antiquity. But should he venture 
 upon the dark story of their wrongs and 
 wretchedness — should he tell how they were 
 invaded, corrupted, despoiled — driven from 
 their native abodes and the sepulchres of 
 their fathers — hunted like wild beasts about 
 the earth, and sent down in violence and 
 butchery to the grave-— posterity will either 
 turn with horror and incredulity from the 
 tale, or blush with indignation at the inhu- 
 manity of their forefathers. — "We are driven 
 back," said an old warrior, " until we can 
 retreat no further — our hatchets are broken 
 — our bows are snapped — our fires are 
 nearly extinguished — a little longer and 
 the white men will cease to persecute us— - 
 for we will cease to exist!" 
 
 The warlike ability of the Indians has 
 been very generally despised by European 
 officers — and this opinion has cost many 
 thousands of men their lives. The following 
 
152 APPENDIX. 
 
 brief account of their military conduct, will 
 not be uninteresting to the general reader, 
 and it will show from good authority, that 
 the number of Indians engaged in every bat- 
 tle, in which they proved victorious, has 
 always been exaggerated by their enemies . 
 — and European officers particularly, having 
 often been beaten by a comparatively small 
 number of untutored natives of the forests, 
 have been led to give very false reports of 
 the combats in which they have been en- 
 gaged. 
 
 *' In Col. Boquet'slast campaign of 1764, 
 I saw, (says Col. Smith,) the official return 
 made by the British officers, of the number 
 of Indians that were in arms against us in that 
 year, which amounted to thirty thousand. 
 As I was then lieutenant in the British 
 service, I told them I was of opinion, that 
 there was not above one thousand in arms 
 against us, as they were divided by Broad- 
 street's army, being then at Lake Erie. 
 The British officers hooted at me, and said 
 that they could not make England sensible 
 of the difficulties they laboured under in 
 fighting them ; and it was expected that their 
 troops could fight the undisciplined savages 
 in America, five to one as they did the East 
 Indians, and therefore my report would not 
 answer their purprse, as they could not give 
 
APPENDIX. Jt53 
 
 an honourable account of the war but by 
 augnienthig their numbers. 
 
 "Smith's opinion was, that from Braddock's 
 defeat, until the time of his wTiting, there 
 never were more than three thousand In- 
 dians, at any time in arms against us, west of 
 Fort Pitt, and frequently not more than half 
 of that number. 
 
 Boudinout says, that " According to the in- 
 dians own account, during the whole of 
 Braddock's war, or from 1755 to 1758, they 
 killed and took fifty of our people for one 
 that they lost. In the war of 1763, they 
 killed, comparatively, few of our people, 
 and lost more of theirs, as the frontier inha- 
 bitants, especially the Virginians, had learn- 
 ed something of their method of war ; yet 
 even in this war, according to their account 
 (which Smith believed to be true,) they 
 killed and took ten of our people for one 
 they lost. 
 
 "The Indians, though few in number, put 
 the government to immense expense of blood 
 and treasure, in the war from 1756 to 1791. 
 The following campaigns in the western 
 country, will be a proof of this. 
 
 " General Braddock's in the year 1755 — ' 
 Col. Armstrong's against the Chataugau 
 town, on the Alleghany, in 1757 — General 
 Forbe's in 1758— Gen.'^Stanwix's in 1759— 
 Gen, Moncton's in 1760 — Col, Boquets in 
 
]54 APPENDIX. 
 
 1761 — and again in 1763, when he fought 
 the battle of Brushy Run, and lost above one 
 hundred men ; but by taking the advice and 
 assistance of the Virginia volunteers, finally 
 drove the Indians — Col. Armstrong's up the 
 west branch of the Susquehanna in the 
 same year — Gen. Broadstreet's up Lake 
 Erie in 1764 — Col. Boquet's at Muskingum 
 at the same time — Lord Dunmore's in 1774, 
 Gen. Mcintosh's in 1778, and again in 1880, 
 — Col. Bowman's in 1779 — Gen. Clark's 
 in 1782 — and against the Wabash Indian's 
 in 1776 — Gen. Logan's against the Shaw- 
 nese in the same year, and Col. Harmer's in 
 1790— Gen. Wilkinson's in 1791,— Gen. 
 St. Clair's in 1791, and Gen. Wayne's in 
 1794, which in all are twenty three cam- 
 paigns, besides smaller expeditions, such as 
 the French creek expedition. Colonels 
 Edward's, Loughrie's, he. All these were 
 exclusive of the numbers of men who were 
 internally employed as scouting parties, in 
 erecting forts, guarding stations, &;c. he, 
 
 " When we take the foregoing account 
 into consideration, may we not reasonably 
 conclude, that the Indians are the best disci- 
 plined troops in the world, especially when 
 we consider, that t-lie ammunition and arms 
 that they art; obliged to use, are of the worst 
 sort, witliout bayonets or cartouch boxes. 
 No artificial means of carrying either bag- 
 
APPENDIX. 155 
 
 gage or provisions, while their enemies have 
 every warlike implement, and other resour- 
 ces, to the utmost of their desire. Is not 
 that the best discipline, that has the greatest 
 tendency to annoy an enemy, and save their 
 own men ? It is apprehended that the Indian 
 discipline is better calculated to answer 
 their purpose in the woods of America, than 
 the British discipline in the plains of Flan- 
 ders. British discipline, in the woods is the 
 way to have men slaughtered, with scarcely 
 any chance to defend themselves. 
 
 " Privates. — The Indians sum up their 
 art of war thus — 'The business of the pri- 
 vate >\^rrior is to be under command, or 
 punctually to obey orders-— to learn to march 
 a-breast in scattered order, so as to be in 
 readiness to surround the enemy, or to pre- 
 vent being surrounded — to be a good marks- 
 man, and active in the use of their musket 
 or rifle — to practice running — to learn to 
 endure hunger or hardships with patience 
 and fortitude — to tell the truth at all times 
 to their officers, more especially when sent 
 out to spy the enemy. 
 
 " Concerning Officers. — They say that it 
 would be absurd to appoint a man to an 
 office, whose skill and courage had never been 
 tried — that all officers should be advanced 
 only according to merit^ — that no single man 
 should have the absolute command of an 
 
ioG APPEKDtX. 
 
 "army — that the counsel of officers sliould de- 
 termine when and how an attack is made 
 — that it is the duty of officers to lay plans, 
 and take every advantage of the enemy — to 
 ambush and surprise them, and to prevent 
 the like to themselves. It is the duty of 
 officers to prepare and deliver speeches to 
 the men, in order to animate and encour- 
 age them, and on a march to prevent the 
 men, at any time, getting into a huddle, be- 
 cause if the enemy should surround them in 
 that position, they would be greatly exposed 
 to the enemy's fire. It is likewise their bu- 
 siness, at all times, to endeavour to annoy 
 the enemy, and save their own men; and 
 therefore ought never to bring on an attack 
 without considerable advantage, or without 
 what appeared to them to insure victory, 
 and that with a loss of but few men. And 
 if at any time they should be mistaken in 
 this, and are likely to lose many men in 
 gaining the victory, it is their duty to retreat, 
 and wait for a better opportunity of defeat- 
 ing their enemy, without the danger of 
 losing so many men.' Their conduct proves 
 that they act on these principles. 
 
 " This is the statement given by those who 
 are experimentally acquainted with them, 
 and as long as the British officers despised 
 both Indians and Americans, who studied 
 their art of war, and formed themselves on 
 
APytKDIX. lot 
 
 ihe same plan, they were caristantly beaten 
 by those soldiers of nature, though seldorii 
 one fourth of the numlxir of the British. But 
 the British officers had one advantage of 
 them. This was the art of drawing up and 
 reporting to their superiors, plans of their 
 battles, and exaggerated accounts of their 
 great success, and the immense loss of the 
 Indians, which were never thought of till 
 long after the battle was over, and often 
 while they were smarting under their severe 
 defeat or surprise. 
 
 When the Indians determine on war or 
 hunting, they have stated preparatory, re- 
 ligious ceremonies, for purification, particu- 
 larly by fasting, as the Israelites had. 
 
 "Father Charlevoix gives an account of 
 this custom in his time. In case of an in- 
 tention of going to war, he who is to com- 
 mand does not commence the raising of 
 soldiers, till he has fasted several days, 
 during which he is smeared with black — ■ 
 has no conversation with any one—- invokes 
 by day and night, his tutelar spirit, and above 
 all, is very careful to observe his dreams. 
 The fast being over, he assembles his friends, 
 and with a string of wampum in his hands, 
 he speaks to them after this manner. Breth- 
 ren! the great spirit authorizes my senti- 
 ments,, and inspires me with what I ought to 
 
 dg* The blood of is not wiped away — 
 
 14 
 
158 APPENDIX. 
 
 his body is not covered, and 1 will acquit 
 myself of this duty towards him." he, 
 
 Mr. M'Kenzie in some measure confirms 
 this account though among diii'erent nations. 
 " If the tribes feel themselves called upon 
 to go to war the elders convene the people 
 in order to obtain the general opinion. If 
 it be for war, the chief publishes his inten- 
 tion to smoke in the sacred stem (a pipe) at 
 a certain time. To this solemnity, medita- 
 tion and fasting are required as preparatory 
 ceremonials. When the people are thus as- 
 sembled, and the meeting sanctified by the 
 custom of smoking (this may be in imitation 
 of the smoke of the incense ofiered on the 
 altar of the Jews) the chief enlarges on the 
 causes which have called them together, and 
 the necessity of the measures proposed on 
 the occasion. He then invites them who 
 are willing to follow him, to smoke out of 
 the sacred stem, which is considered as a 
 token of enrolment." A sacred feast then 
 takes place, and after much ceremony, usual 
 on such occasions, "the chief turning to the 
 east, makes a speech to explain more fully 
 the design of their meeting, then concludes 
 with an acknowledgement for past mercies 
 received, and a prayer for the continuance 
 of them, from the master of life. He then 
 sits down, and the whole company declare 
 their approbation and thanks by uttering the 
 
APPENDIX. 159 
 
 word iJo/-'(in a very hoarse, guttural sound, 
 being the third syllable of the beloved 
 name,) '* with an emphatic promulgation of 
 the last letter. The chief then takes up the 
 pipe, and holds it to the mouth of the offi- 
 ciating person," (like a priest of the jews, 
 with the incense) " who after smoking three 
 whiffs, utters a short prayer, and then goes 
 round with it from east to west, to every 
 person present." The ceremony then being 
 ended, " he returns the company thanks for 
 their attendance, and wishes them, as well 
 as the whole tribe, health and long life." 
 
 Do not these practices remind the reader 
 of the many directions in the Jewish ritual, 
 commanding the strict purification or sanc- 
 tifying individuals about to undertake great 
 business, or enter on important offices. 
 
 " The Indians, by oppression, diseases, 
 wars and ardent spirits, have greatly dimin- 
 ished in numbers, degenerated in their moral 
 character, and lost their high standing as 
 warriors, especially those contigous to our 
 settlements. 
 
 " The very ancient men who have wit- 
 nessed the former glory and prosperity of 
 their country, or who have heard from the 
 mouths of their ancestors, and particularly 
 from their beloved men, (whose office it is 
 to repeat their traditions and laws to the 
 rising generations, with the heroic achieve- 
 
iGO APPENDIX. 
 
 nients of their forefathers) the former slate 
 of their country with the great prowess and 
 success of tlieir warriors of old times, the}' 
 weep like infants, when they speak of the 
 fallen condition of their nations. They de- 
 rive however some consolation from a pro- 
 phecy of ancient origin and universal cur- 
 rency among them, that the men of America 
 will, at some future period, regain their an- 
 cient ascendency and expel the man of Eu- 
 rope from this western hemisphere. This 
 flattering and consolatory persuasion has 
 enabled the Seneca and Shawnese prophets 
 to arrest, in some tribes, the use of iiitoxi- 
 cating liquors, and has given birth, at diffe- 
 rent periods, to attempts for a general con- 
 federacy of the Indians of North America." 
 Clinton, 
 
 The compiler of the Star in the West was 
 present at a dinner given by general Knox 
 to a number of Indians, in the year 1789, at 
 New-York ; they had come to the president 
 on a mission from their nations, The house 
 was in Broadway. A little before dinner, 
 two or three of the Sachems, with their chief 
 or principle man, went into the balcony at 
 the front of the house, the drawing room 
 being up-stairs. From this they had a view 
 of the city, the harbour, Long-Island, &lc. 
 After remaining there a short time, they re- 
 turned into the room, apparently dejected ; 
 
APPENDIX. lOl 
 
 but the chief more than the rest. General 
 Knox took notice of it, and said to him, 
 brother ! what has happened to you ? — You 
 look sorry ! — Is there any thing to distress 
 you ? He answered — I'll tell you, brother. 
 I have been looking at your beautiful city — 
 the great water — your fine country — and see 
 how happy you all are. But then, I could 
 not help thinking, that this fine country and 
 this great water was once ours. Our an- 
 cestors lived here — they enjoyed it as their 
 own in peace — it was the gift of the great 
 spirit to them and their children. At last 
 the white people came here in a great canoe. 
 They asked only to let them tie it to a tree, 
 lest the waters should carry it away — we 
 consented. They then said some of their 
 people were sick, and they asked permission 
 to land them and put them under the shade 
 of the trees. The ice then came, and they 
 could not go away. They then begged a 
 piece of land to build wigwams for the win- 
 ter — we granted it to them. They then 
 asked for some corn to keep them from 
 starving — we kindly furnished it to them, 
 they promising to go away when the ice was 
 gone. When this happened, we told them 
 they must now go away with their big canoe ; 
 but they pointed to their big guns round 
 their wigwams, and said they would stay 
 there, and we could not make them go away. 
 
 14* 
 
lG-2 APPENDIX. 
 
 Afterwards, more come. Tliey brought 
 spirituous and intoxicatintr; liquors with them, 
 of which the Indians became very fond. 
 They persuaded us to sell them some land. 
 Finally they drove us back, from time to 
 time, into the wilderness, far from the water, 
 and the fish, and the oysters — they have de- 
 stroyed the game — our people have wasted 
 away, and now we live miserabie and 
 wretched, while you are enjoying our fine 
 and beautiful country. This makes me 
 sorr}^, brother ! and I cannot help it !" 
 
 From the great similarity of the manners 
 and customs of the Indian natives and those 
 recorded of the jews, many learned men 
 have come to the conclusion that the Indian 
 tribes are none other than the descendants 
 of the ten lost tribes of Judah. If not, in 
 what manner can w^e account for this simila- 
 rity .f* Their religious emblems are nearly 
 of the same import — tlieir rites and cere- 
 monies in many respects do not difler essen- 
 tially — there is an evident approach' in many 
 instances between the two languages,* and 
 withal there is Vijtersonal resemblance. 
 
 The late Wm. Penn, who was acquainted 
 
 * There are but two mother tonguof^, it is said, 
 among the Northen Indians, including those tribes 
 that inhabit the Mississippi, the Huron and Algon- 
 quin. There is not more diflerence between these, 
 than between the Norman and French. 
 
APPENDIX. 163^ 
 
 witli the natives before they became cor- 
 rupted by the whites, was exceedingly struck 
 with their appearance, and in one of his let- 
 ters to a friend in England, he says, *' I found 
 them with like countenance with the Jev/ish 
 race ; and their children of so lively a re- 
 semblance to them, that a man w^ould think 
 himself in Duke's-place or Berry-street, in 
 London, when he seeth them." (Penn's 
 Works, 2d vol. 80p. year 1682.) They wore 
 ear-rings and nose jewels ; bracelets on 
 their arms and legs; rings on their fingers ; 
 necklaces made of highly polished shells 
 found in their rivers and on their coasts. 
 Their females tied up their hair behind, 
 worked bands round their heads, and orna- 
 mented them with shells and feathers, and 
 are fond of strings of beads round several 
 parts of their bodies. They use shells and 
 turkey spurs round the tops of their mocasins, 
 to tinkle like little bells, as they walk." 
 Isaiah proves this to have been the custom 
 of the Jewish women, or something much 
 like it. " In that day, says the prophet, the 
 Lord will take away the bravery of their 
 tinkling ornaments about their feet, and 
 their cauls, and their round tires like the 
 moon. The chains and the bracelets and 
 the mufllers. The bonnets and the orna- 
 ments of the legs, and the head-bands, and 
 the tablets, and the ear-rings ; the rings and 
 
164 APPENDIX. 
 
 the nose jewels." Isaiah, iii. 18. Th&y 
 religiously observed certain feasts, and feasts 
 very similar to those enjoined on the He- 
 brews, by Moses, as will hereinafter more 
 particularly be shown. In short, many, and 
 indeed, it may be said, most of the learned 
 men, who did pay any particular attention 
 to these natives of the wilderness at their 
 first coming among them, both English and 
 Spaniards, were struck with their general 
 likeness to the Jews. The Indians in New- 
 Jersey, about 1681, are described, as persons 
 straight in their limbs, beyond the usual 
 proportion in most nations ; very seldom 
 crooked or deformed ; their features regular ; 
 their countenances somewhat fierce, in com- 
 mon rather resembling a Jew than a Chris- 
 tian. — Smith's History of New Jersey. 
 
 In general the indian languages are verj' 
 " copious and expressive," considering the 
 narrow sphere in which they move. In 
 comparison with civilized nations, their 
 ideas are few. In their language, we find 
 neither cases or declensions, a few or no 
 prepositions. This has been remarked more 
 particularly, as there is no language known 
 in Europe, except the Hebrew, without 
 prepositions. The public speeches of the 
 Indians are short but bold, nervous, and 
 abounding with metaphor. For instance, 
 the speech made by Logan, a famous Indian 
 
APPENPIX. I65i 
 
 chief, about the year 1775, was never ex- 
 ceeded by Demosthenes or Cicero. In 
 revenge for a murder committed by some 
 unknown Indians, aparty of our people fired 
 on a canoe loaded with women and children, 
 and one man, all of whom happened to be- 
 long to the family of Logan, who had been 
 long the staunch friend of the Americans, 
 and then at perfect peace with them. A 
 war immediately ensued, and after much 
 blood-shed on both sides, the Indians were 
 beat and sued for peace. A treaty was 
 held, but Logan disdainfully refused to be 
 reckoned among the suppliants ; but to pre- 
 vent any disadvantage from his absence, to 
 his nation, he sent the following talk, to be 
 delivered to Lord Dunmore at the treaty :— 
 ** I appeal to any white man to say, if he 
 ever entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he 
 gave him no meat — if ever he came cold 
 and naked, and Logan clothed him not. 
 During the course of the last long and 
 bloody war, Logan remained idle in his 
 cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was 
 his love for the white men, that my coun- 
 trymen pointed as they passed, and said, 
 Logan is the friend of white men. I had 
 thought to have lived with you, but for the 
 
 injuries of one man. Colonel the last 
 
 spring, in cold blood, and unprovoked, mur- 
 dered all tlie relations of Logan, not sparing 
 
166 APPENDIX. 
 
 even my women and children. There runs 
 not a drop of his blood in the veins of any 
 living creature. This calls on me for re- 
 venge. I have sought it. I have killed 
 many. I have fully glutted my vengeance. 
 For my country, I rejoice at the beams of 
 peace. But do not harbour a thought that 
 mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt 
 fear. He will not turn on his heel to save 
 his life. Who is there to mourn for Logan .^^ 
 No, not one." 
 
 *' Great allowance must be made for trans- 
 lations into another language, especially by 
 illiterate and ignorant interpreters. This 
 destroys the force as well as beauty of the 
 original. 
 
 " A writer (Adair) who has had the best 
 opportunities to know the true idiom of their 
 language, by a residence among them for 
 forty years, has taken great pains to show 
 the similarity of the Hebrew with the Indian 
 languages, both in their roots and general 
 construction ; and insists that many of the 
 indian words to this day, are purely Hebrew, 
 notwithstanding their exposure to the loss 
 of it to such a degree, as to make the 
 preservation of it so far, little less than 
 miraculous." 
 
 Mr. Boudinot in his able work states, *' as 
 a matter of curiosity, that the Mohawks, in 
 confederacv with the Five Nations, as sub- 
 
APPENDIX. 167 
 
 sisting at the first arrival of the Europeans 
 in America, were considered as the lawgiv- 
 ers, or the interpreters of duty to the other 
 tribes. Nay, this was so great, that all paid 
 obedience to their advice. They consider- 
 ed themselves as supreme, or first among 
 the rest. Mr. Colden says, that he had been 
 told by old men in New England, that when 
 their Indians were at war, formerly with the 
 Mohawks, as soon as one appeared, their 
 Indians raised a cry from hill to hill, a Mo- 
 hawk ! a Mohawk ! upon which all fled like 
 sheep before a wolf, without attempting to 
 make the least resistance. And that all the 
 nations around them, have for many years, 
 entirely submitted to their advice, and pay 
 them a yearly tribute of wampum. The 
 tributary nations dare not make war orpeace, 
 without the consent of the Mohawks. Mr. 
 Colden has given a speech of the Mohawks, 
 in answer to one from the governor of Vir- 
 ginia, complaining of the confederate nations, 
 which shows the Mohawks' superiority over 
 them, and the mode in which they corrected 
 their misdoings. Now it seems very remark • 
 able that the Hebrew word Mhhokek, spel- 
 led so much like the Indian word, means a 
 law-giver, (or leges interpres) or a superior. 
 " Blind chance could not have directed 
 so great a number of remote and warring 
 savage nations to tix on, and unite in so nice 
 
168 APPENDIX. 
 
 a religious standard of speech, and evert 
 grammatical construction of language, where 
 there was no knowledge of letters or syntax. 
 For instance, A^ oo, EA, is a strong religi- 
 ous Indian emblem, signifying, I cliinb^ as- 
 taid or remove to another place of residence. 
 It points to A-no-Wah, the first person singu- 
 lar, and O E Aj or Yah, Pie, Wah, and im- 
 plies putting themselves under the divine 
 patronage. The beginning of that most 
 sacred symbal, is by studious skill and 
 thorough knowledge of the power of letters, 
 placed twice, to prevent them from being 
 applied to the sacred name, for vain purpo- 
 ses, or created things. 
 
 " Though they lost the true meaning of 
 their religious emblems, except what a^Very 
 few of the more intelligent traders revive 
 in their retentive memories of the old inqui- 
 sitive magi, or beloved man ; yet tradition 
 directs them to apply them properly. They 
 tise many plain religious emblems of the 
 divine name, as Y, O, he wah — Yah and 
 Ale, and these are the roots of the prodigi- 
 ous number of words, through their various 
 dialects. It Is worthy of remembrance, that 
 two Indians, who belong to far distant na- 
 tions, without the knowledge of each other's 
 language, except from the gtjneral idiom, 
 will inteUigibly converge together, and con- 
 tract tngagem(.^ntc without any iat^rpr^tti. 
 
APPENDIX. 169 
 
 in such a surprising manner, as is scarcely 
 credible. In like manner we read of Abra- 
 ham, Isaac and Jacob, travelling from coun- 
 try to country, from Chaldea into Palestine, 
 when inhabited by various differing nations 
 — thence into Egypt and back again, making 
 engagements, and treating with citizens 
 wherever they went. But we never read 
 of any difficulty of being understood, or 
 their using an interpreter. 
 
 *' The Indians generally express them- 
 selves with great vehemence and short 
 pauses, in their set public speeches. Their 
 periods are well turned, and very sonorous 
 and harmonious. Their words are specially 
 chosen, and well disposed, with great care 
 and knowledge of their subject and language, 
 to show the being, power, and agency of the 
 great spirit in all that concerns them. 
 
 "To speak in general terms, their lan- 
 guage in their roots, idiom, and particular 
 construction, appears to ha^e the whole 
 genus of the Hebrew, and what is very re- 
 markable, and well worthy of serious obser- 
 vation, has most of the peculiarities of that 
 language, especially those in which it differs 
 from most other languages ; and " often both 
 in letters and signification, synonimous with 
 the Hebrew language." They call the 
 lightning and thunder, Eloha, audits rumb- 
 ling noise Rt?wuh, which may not, impro- 
 
 15 
 
170 APPENDIX. 
 
 perly be deduced from the Hebrew word 
 Riiach, a name of the third person in the 
 holy Trinity, originally signifying "the air 
 in motion or a rushing wind." — Faber. 
 
 The Indian compounded words are gene- 
 rally pretty long, but those that are radical 
 or simple, are mostly short ; very few, if 
 any of them, exceed three or four syllables. 
 And as their dialects are guttural, every 
 word contains some consonants, and these 
 are the essential characteristics of language. 
 Where they deviate from this rule, it is by 
 religious emblems, which obviously proceeds 
 from the great regard they pay to the names 
 of the Deity, especially to the great four 
 lettered divine, essential name, by using the 
 letters it contains, and the vowels it was 
 originally pronounced with, to convey a vir- 
 tuous idea ; or by doubling or transposing 
 them, to signify the contrary. In this, all the 
 Indian nations agree. And as this general 
 custom must'* proceed from one primary 
 cause, it seems to assure us, that the people 
 was not in a savage state when they first 
 separated, and varied their dialects with so 
 much religious care and exact art." 
 
 Mr. Boudinot, speaking of the Indian tra- 
 ditions as received by their nations, says, 
 not having the assistance afibrded by the 
 means of writing and reading, they are 
 obliged to have recourse to tradition, as Du 
 
APPENDIX. 171 
 
 Pratz, 2 vol. 169, has justly observed, " to 
 preserve the remembrance of remarkable 
 transactions or historical facts ; and this tra- 
 dition cannot be preserved, but by frequent 
 repetitions ; consequently many of their 
 young men are often employed in hearken- 
 ing to the old beloved men, narrating the 
 history of their ancestors, which is thus 
 transmitted from generation to generation." 
 *' In order to preserve them pure and incor- 
 rupt, they are careful not to deliver them 
 indifferently to all their young people, but 
 only to those young men of whom they have 
 the best opinion. They hold it as a certain 
 fact, as delivered down from their ancestors, 
 that their forefathers, in very remote ages, 
 came from a far distant country, by the way 
 of the west, where all the people were of 
 one colour, and that in process of time they 
 moved eastward to their present settle- 
 ments." 
 
 This tradition is corroborated by a current 
 report among them, related by the old 
 Chickkasah Indians to our traders, that now 
 about 100 years ago, there came from Mex- 
 ico, some of the old Chickkasah nation, or 
 as the Spaniards call them, Chichemicas, in 
 quest of their brethren, as far north as the 
 Aquahpah nation, above one hundred and 
 thirty miles above the Natchez, on the south 
 east side of the Mississippi river ; but 
 
17^ APPENDIX. 
 
 through French policy, they were either 
 killed or sent back, so as to prevent their 
 opening a brotherly intercourse with them, 
 as they had proposed. It is also said, that 
 the Nauatalcas believe that they dwelt in 
 another region before they settled in Mexico. 
 That their forefathers wandered eighty years 
 in search of it, through a strict obedience to 
 the commands of the great spirit, who or- 
 dered them to go in quest of new lands, that 
 had such particular marks as were made 
 known to them, and they punctually obeyed 
 the divine mandate, and by that means found 
 out and settled that fertile country of Mexico. 
 Our southern Indians have also a tradition 
 among them which they firmly believe, that 
 of old time, their ancestors lived beyond a 
 great river. That nine parts of their nation, 
 out of ten, passed over the river, but the re- 
 mainder refused, and staid behind. That 
 they had a king when they lived far to the 
 west, who left two sons. That one of them, 
 with a number of his people, travelled a 
 great way for many years, till they came to 
 Delaware river, and settled there. That 
 some years ago, the king of the country from 
 wliich they had emigrated, sent a party in 
 search of them. This was at the time the 
 French were in possession of the country on 
 ihe riv^er Alleghany. That after seeking six 
 years, they found an Indian who led them 
 
APPENDIX. 173 
 
 to the Delaware towns, where they staid one 
 year. That the French sent a white man 
 with them on their return, to bring back an 
 account of their country, but they have 
 never been heard of since. 
 
 It is said among their principal, or beloved 
 men, that they have it handed down from 
 their ancestors, that the book which the 
 white people have was once theirs. That 
 while they had it they prospered exceed- 
 ingly ; but that the pale people bought it 
 of them, and learnt many things from it ; 
 while the Indians lost their credit, offended 
 the great spirit, and suffered excedingly 
 from the neighbouring nations. That the 
 great spirit took pity on them and directed 
 them to this country. That on their way 
 they came to a great river, which they could 
 not pass, when God dried up the waters and 
 they passed over dry shod. They also say 
 that their forefathers were possessed of an 
 extraordinary divine spirit, by which they 
 foretold future events, and controled the 
 common course of nature, and this they 
 transmitted to their offspring, on condition 
 of their obeying the sacred laws. That they 
 did by these means bring down showers of 
 plenty on the beloved people. But that 
 this power for a long time past, had entirely 
 ceased. 
 
 The rie verend gentlemen mentioned before, 
 15* 
 
174 APPENDIX. 
 
 who had taken so much pains in the year 
 1764 or 5, to travel far westward, to find 
 Indians who had never seen a white man, 
 informed the writer of these memoirs, that 
 far to the nortliwest of the Ohio, he attended 
 a party of Indians to a treaty, with Indians 
 from the west of the Mississippi. Here 
 he found the people he was in search of — he 
 conversed with their beloved man who had 
 never seen a white man before, by the as- 
 sistance of three grades of interpreters. The 
 Indian informed him, " that one of their 
 ancient traditions was, that a great while 
 ago, they had a common father, who lived 
 towards the rising of the sun, and governed 
 the whole world. That all the white people's 
 heads were under his feet. That he had 
 twelve sons, by whom he administered his 
 government. That his authority was derived 
 from the great spirit, by virtue of some 
 special gift from him. That ihe twelve sons 
 behaved very bad and tyrannized over the 
 people, abusing their power to a great de- 
 gree, so as to oflend the great spirit exceed- 
 ingly. That he being thus angry with them, 
 suffered the white people to introduce 
 spirituous liquors among them, made them 
 drunk, stole the special gift of the great 
 spirit from them, and by this means usurped 
 the power over them, and ever since the 
 Indians' heads where under the white people's 
 
APPENDIX. 1 75 
 
 feet. But that they also had a tradition, 
 that the time would come, when the Indians 
 would regain the gift of the great spirit from 
 the white people, and with it their ancient 
 power, wdien the white people's heads would 
 be again under the Indian's feeU 
 
 Mr. M'Kenzie in his History of the Fur 
 Trade, and his journey through North Ame- 
 rica, by the lakes, to the South Sea, in the 
 
 5^ear -, says, "that the Indians informed 
 
 him, that they had a tradition among them, 
 that they originally came from another coun- 
 try, inliabited by wicked people, and had 
 traversed a great lake, which was narrow, 
 shallow and full of islands, where they had 
 suffered great hardships and mucli misery, 
 it being always winter, with ice and deep 
 snows — at a place they called the Copper- 
 mine River, where they made the first land, 
 the ground was covered with copper, over 
 which a body of earth had since been col- 
 lected to the depth of a man's heighth, 
 They believe also that in ancient times their 
 ancestors had lived till their feet were worn 
 out with walking, and their throats with 
 mating. They described a deluge, when 
 the waters spread over the whole earth, ex- 
 <!ept the highest mountain, on the top of 
 which they were preserved. They also 
 believe in a future judgment." M'Kenzie's 
 history, page 113. 
 
176 APPENDIX. 
 
 The Indians to the eastward say, that pre- 
 vious to the white people coming into the 
 country, their ancestors were in the habit of 
 using circumcision, but latterly, not being 
 able to assign any reason for so strange a 
 practice, their young people insisted on its 
 being abolished. 
 
 M'Kenzie says the same of the Indians he 
 saw on his route, even at this day. History, 
 page 34. Speaking of the nations of the 
 Slave and Dog-rib Indians, very far to the 
 northwest, he says, *' whether circumcision 
 be practised among them, I cannot pretend 
 to say, but the appearance of it was general 
 among those I saw." 
 
 The Dog-rib Indians live about two or 
 three hundred miles from the straits of Kam- 
 schatka. Dr. Beatty says, in his journal of 
 a visit he paid to the Indians on the Ohio, 
 about fifty years ago, that an old christian 
 Indian informed him, that an old uncle of 
 his, who died about the year 1728, related 
 to him several customs and traditions of 
 former times ; and among others, that cir- 
 cumcision was practiced among the Indians 
 long ago, but their young men making a mock 
 of it, brought it into disrepute, and so it came 
 to be disused. Journal, page 89. The 
 same Indian said, that one tradition they had 
 was, that once the waters had overflowed all 
 the land, and drowned all tlie people then 
 
APPENDIX. 177 
 
 living, except a few, who made a great canoe, 
 and were saved in it. Page 90. And that 
 a long time ago, the people went to build a 
 high place. That while they were building 
 of it, they lost their language, and could not 
 understand one another. That while one, 
 perhaps, called for a stick, another brought 
 him a stone, &tc. he. and from that time the 
 Indians began to speak different languages. 
 
 Father Charlevoix, the French historian, 
 informs us that the Hurons and Iroquois, in 
 that early day, had a tradition among them 
 that the first woman came from heaven, and 
 had twins, and that the elder killed the 
 younger. 
 
 In an account published in the year 1644, 
 by a Dutch minister of the gospel, in New- 
 York, giving an account of the Mohawks, he 
 says, " an old woman came to my house and 
 told the family, that her forefathers had told 
 her that the great spirit once went out walk- 
 ing with his brother, and that a dispute arose 
 between them, and the great spirit killed his 
 brother." This is plainly a confusion cjf i^b^^ 
 story of Cain and Abel. It is most likely 
 from the ignorance of the minister in the 
 idiom of the Indian language, misconstruing, 
 Cain being represented a great man, for the 
 great spirit. Many mistakes of this kind are 
 frequently made. 
 
 Mrc Adair, who has written the history of 
 
178 APPENDIX. 
 
 the Indians, and who deserves great credit 
 for his industry, and improving the very 
 great and uncommon opportunities he en- 
 joyed, tells us, that the southern Indians 
 have a tradition, that when they left their 
 own native land, they brought with them a 
 sanctified rod, by order of an oracle, which 
 they fixed every night in the ground; and 
 were to remove from place to place on this 
 continent,towards the rising sun,till it budded 
 in one night's time. That they obeyed the 
 sacred oracle, and the miracle at last took 
 place, after they arrived on this side of the 
 Mississippi, on the present land they possess. 
 This was the sole cause of their settling 
 there — of fighting so firmly for their reputed 
 holy land and holy things — that they may be 
 buried with their beloved forefathers." 
 
 This seems to be taken from Aaron's rod. 
 
 Colonel James Smith, in his Journal of 
 Events, that happened while he was prisoner 
 with the Caughnewaga Indians, from 1755 
 to 1759, says, "they have a tradition that in 
 the beginning of this continent, the angels or 
 heavenly inhabitants, as they call them, fre- 
 quently visited the people, and talked with 
 iheir forefathers, and gave directions how to 
 pray, and how to appease the great being, 
 when he was offended. They told them 
 they were to offer sacrifice, burn tobacco, 
 buffaloe and deer's bones, &;c. he. Page 79. 
 
APPENDIX. T?^' 
 
 The Ottawas say, " that there are two 
 great beings that rule and govern the uni- 
 verse, who are at war with each other ; the 
 one they call Maneto, and the other Matche- 
 maneto. They say that Maneto is all kind- 
 ness and love, and the other is an evib spirit 
 that delights in doing mischief. Some say 
 that they are equal in power ; others say 
 that Maneto is the first great cause, and 
 therefore must be all powerful and supreme j 
 and ought to be adored and worshipped : 
 whereas Matcheraaneto ought to be rejected 
 and despised." '' Some of the Wyandots 
 and Caughnewagas profess to be Roman 
 Catholics ; but even these retain many of 
 the notions of their ancestors. Those who 
 reject the Roman Catholic religion^ hold that 
 there is one great first cause, whom they 
 call Ovvaheeyo, that rules and governs the 
 universe, and takes care of all his creatures 
 rational and irrational, and gives them their 
 food in due season, and hears the prayers of 
 all those who call upon him ; therefore it is 
 but just and reasonable to pray and offer 
 sacrifice to this great being, and to do those 
 things that are pleasing in his sight. But 
 they widely differ in what is pleasing or dis- 
 pleasing to this great being. Some hold that 
 following nature or their own propensities 
 is the way to happiness. Others reject this 
 opinion altogether, and say, that following 
 
180 AlTENDlX. 
 
 their own propensities in this manner 13 
 neither the means of happiness, or the way 
 to please the deity. My friend Tecaughre- 
 tanego, said, our happiness depends on our 
 using our reason, in order to suppress these 
 evil dispositions ; but when our propen- 
 sities neither lead us to injure ourselves nor 
 others, we may with safety indulge them, or 
 even pursue them as the means of happi-* 
 ness." Page 86. 
 
 Can any man, says Mr. Boudinot, read 
 this short account of Indian traditions, drawn 
 from tribes of various nations, from the west 
 to the east, and from 4:he south to the norths 
 wholly separated from each other, written 
 by different authors of the best characters^ 
 both for knowledge and integrity, possesing 
 the best means of information, at various 
 and distant times, without any possible com- 
 munication with each other, and in one in- 
 stance from occular and sensible demonstra- 
 tion ; written on the spot in several instances^ 
 with the relaters before them— and yet sup- 
 pose that all this is either the effect of 
 chance, accident or design, from a love of 
 the marvellous or a premeditated intention 
 of deceiving, and thereby ruining their own 
 well established reputations? 
 
 Charlevoix was a clergyman of character, 
 who was with the Indians some years, and 
 
APPENDIX. 181 
 
 travelled from Canada to the Mississippi in 
 that early day. 
 
 Adair lived forty years entirely domesti- 
 cated with the southern Indians, and was a 
 man of learning and great observation. Just 
 before the revolutionary war he brought his 
 manuscript to Elizabeth town, in New Jersey, 
 to William Livingston, Esq. (a neighbour of 
 the writer) to have it examined and cor- 
 rected, which was prevented by the troubles 
 of a political nature, just breaking out. The 
 Rev. Mr. Brainerd was a man of remarkable 
 piety, and a missionary with the CrosAveek 
 Indians to his death. Dr. Edwards was 
 eminent for his piety and learning, and was 
 intimately acquainted with the Indians from 
 his youth. Dr. Beatty was a clergyman of 
 note and established character. Bartram 
 was a man well known to the writer, and 
 travelled the country of the southern Indians 
 as a botanist, and was a man of considera- 
 ble discernment, and had great means of 
 knowledge ; and M'Kenzie, in the employ- 
 ment of the northwest company, an old 
 trader, and the first adventurous explorer of 
 the country, from the Lake of the Woods 
 to the southern ocean. 
 
 It is now asked, continues Mr. Boudinot, 
 can any one carefully and with deep reflec- 
 tion consider and compare these traditions 
 with the history of the ten tribes of Israeli 
 
 16 
 
182 APPENDlJC. 
 
 and the late discoveries of the Russiaitis,> 
 Capt. Cook and others, in and about the 
 peninsula of Kamschatka and the northeast 
 coast of Asia and the opposite shores of 
 America, of which little was before known 
 by any civilized nation, without at least 
 drawing strong presumptive inferences, in 
 favour of these wandering nations being de- 
 scended from some oriental nation of the old 
 world, and most probably, all things con- 
 sidered, being the lost tribes of Israel. 
 
 Let us look into the late discoveries, and 
 compare them with the Indian traditions. 
 
 Kamschatka is a large peninsula, on the 
 north eastern part of Asia — It is a moun- 
 tainous country, lying between fifty-one 
 and sixty two degrees of north latitude, and 
 of course a very cold and frozen climate. 
 No grain can be raised there, though some 
 vegetables are. Skins and furs are there 
 chief exports. The natives are wild as the 
 country itself, and live on fish and sea ani- 
 mals, with their rein-deer. The islands in 
 this sea, which separate it from the north- 
 west coast of America, are so numerous that 
 the existence of an almost continued chain 
 of them between the two continents is now 
 rendered extremely probable. The principal 
 of them are the Kurile Islands, those called 
 Bherings and Copper Islands, the Aleutian 
 Islcinds, and Fox Islands. Copper Island, 
 
APPENDIX. 183 
 
 which llf s in fifty-four degrees north, and in 
 full sight of Bhering's Island, has its name 
 from the great quantities of copper with 
 which the northeast coast of it abounds. Mr. 
 Grieve's history. It is washed up by the 
 sea, and covers the shores in such abundance, 
 that many ships might be loaded with it very 
 easil}^ These Islands are subject to con- 
 tinual earthquakes, and abound in sulpher. 
 Alaska is one of the most eastwardly islands, 
 and probably is not far from the American 
 coast. The snow lies on these Islands till 
 March, and the sea is filled with ice in win- 
 ter. There is little or no wood grewing in 
 any part of the country, and the inhabitants 
 live in holes dug in the earth. Their greatest 
 delicacies are wild lily and other roots and 
 berries, with fish and other sea animals. 
 The distance between the most northeast- 
 wardly part of Asia and the northwest coast 
 of America, is determined by the famous 
 navigator Capt. Cook, not to exceed thirty- 
 nine miles. These straits are often filled 
 with ice, even in summer, and frozen in 
 winter, and by that means might become a 
 safe passage for the most numerous host to 
 pass over in safety, though these continents 
 had never been once joined, or at a much 
 less distance than at present. The sea from 
 the south of Bhering's Straits to the islands, 
 bettt'ecn the two continents, is very shallow. 
 
184 APPENDIX. 
 
 From the frequent volcanoes that are con- 
 tinually happening, it is probable, not only 
 that there has been a separation of the con- 
 tinent at Bherings Straits, but that the whole 
 space from the island to that small opening 
 was once filled up with land ; but that it had 
 by the force and fury of the waters, perhaps 
 actuated by fire, been totally sunk and de- 
 stroyed, and the islands left in its room. 
 Neither is it improbable that the first passage 
 of the sea was much smaller than at present, 
 and that it is widening yearly, and perhaps 
 many small islands that existed at the first 
 separation of the continents, have sunk or 
 otherwise have been destroyed. These 
 changes are manifest in almost every 
 country. 
 
 Monsieur Le Page du Pratz, in his 2d 
 vol, of his History of Louisiana, page 120, 
 informs us, that being exceedingly desirous 
 to be informed of the origin of the Indian 
 natives, made every inquiry in his power> 
 especially of the nation of the Natchez, one 
 of the most intelligent among them. All he 
 could learn from them was, that they came 
 from between the north and the sun setting- 
 being no way satisfied with this, he sought 
 for one who bore the character of one of 
 their wisest men. He was happy enough to 
 discover one named Moneachtape, among 
 the Yazons, a nation about forty leagues 
 
AprnNDix. 15S 
 
 from ibe Natchez. This man was remarka- 
 ble for his solid understanding and elevation 
 of sentiment, and his name was given to him 
 by his nation as expressive of the man — 
 meaning ^'''killer of pain and fatigue.''^ His 
 eager desire was to see the country from 
 whence his forefathers came — he obtained 
 directions and set ofi'. He went up the Mis- 
 souri, where he staid a long time, to learn 
 the different languages of the nations he was 
 to pass through. After long travelling he 
 came to the nation of the Otters, and hy 
 them was directed on his way, till he reached 
 the southern ocean. After being some time 
 with the nations on the shores of the great 
 sea, he proposed to proceed on his journey, 
 and joined himself to some people who in- 
 habited more westwardly on the coast. They 
 travelled a great way between the north and 
 the sun setting, when they arrived at the 
 village of his fellow travellers, where he 
 found the days long and the nights short. 
 He was here advised to give over all thoughts 
 of continuing his journey. They told hira 
 "thatihe land extended still a long way in 
 the direction aforesaid, after which it ran 
 directly west, and at length was cut by the 
 great water from north to south. One of 
 them added, that when he was young he 
 knew a very old man, who had seen that 
 distant land before it was eat away by the 
 16* 
 
186 APPENDIX. 
 
 great water ; and when the great water was 
 low, many rocks still appeared in those 
 parts." Moneachtape took their advice, 
 and returning home after an absence of five 
 years. 
 
 This account given to Du Pratz, in the 
 year 1720, confirms the idea of the narrow 
 passage at Kamschatka^ and the probability 
 that the continents once joined. 
 
 It is remarkable that the people, especially 
 the Kamschatkians, in their marches, never 
 go but in Indian file, following one another 
 in the same track. Some of the nations in 
 this quarter, prick their flesh with small 
 punctures with a needle in various shapes,^ 
 then rub into them charcoal, blue liquid or 
 some other colour, so as to make the marks 
 become indelible, after the manner of the 
 more eastern nations. 
 
 Bishop Lowth, in his notes on the t6th 
 verse of the xli:^th chapter of Isaiah, says, 
 ♦'this is certainly an allusion to some prac- 
 tice common among the Jews at that time, 
 of making marks on their hands and arms by 
 punctures on the skin, with some sort of 
 sign or representation of the city or temple, 
 to shew their affection and zeal: for it. They 
 had a method of making such punctures in- 
 delible by fire or staining— -ajjd this art is 
 practised by travelling Jews all over the 
 
APPENDIX. 187 
 
 World at this day — vid. also his note on 
 chap. xlv. 5th verse. 
 
 Thus it is with our northern Indians ; they 
 always go in Indian file, and mark their flesh 
 just as above represented. 
 
 The writer of this has seen an aged 
 christian Indian Sachem, of good character, 
 who sat for his portrait. On stripping his 
 neck to the lower part of his breast, it ap- 
 peared that the whole was marked with a 
 deep blueish colour in various figures, very 
 discernable. On being asked the reason of 
 it, he answered, with a heavy sigh, that it 
 was one of the follies of his youth, when he 
 was a great warrior, before his conversion 
 to Christianity; and now, says he, I must 
 bear it, as a punishment for my folly, and 
 carry the marks of it to my grave. 
 
 The people of Siberia made canoes of 
 birch bark, distended over ribs of wood, 
 nicely sewed together. The writer has 
 seen this exactly imitated by the Indians on 
 the river St. Lawrence, and it is universally 
 the case on the lakes. Col. John Smith 
 says, "at length we all embarked in a large 
 birch bark canoe. This vessel was about 
 four feet wide and three feet deep and about 
 thirty-five feet long; aud though it could 
 carry a heavy burden, it was so artfully and 
 curiously constructed, that four men could 
 carry it several miles, from one landing 
 
188 APPENDIX. 
 
 place to another ; or from the waters of the 
 lakes to the waters of the Ohio. At night 
 they carry it on the land, and invert it, or 
 turn it bottom up, and convert it into a 
 dwelling liouse." 
 
 It also appears from the history of Kam- 
 schatka, written by James Grieve, that in 
 the late discoveries, the islands which extend 
 from the south point of Kamschatka, amount 
 to thirty-one or thirty-two. That on these 
 islands are high mountains, and many of 
 them smoking volcanoes. That the pas- 
 sages between them, except fti one or two 
 instances were but one or two days row, at 
 the time of the author's writing that history. 
 They are liable to terrible inundations and 
 earthquakes. 
 
 The following is collected from Mr. Stel- 
 ler's journal, as recorded in the above his- 
 tory; — "The main land of America lies 
 parallel with the coast of Kamschatka, inso- 
 much that it may reasonably be concluded 
 that these lands once joined, especially at 
 the Techukotskoi Noss, or Cape. He offers 
 reasons to prove it: 1st. The appearance 
 of both coasts, which appear to be torn 
 asunder. 2d. Many capes project into the 
 sea from thirty to sixty versts. 3d. Many 
 islands are in the sea which divides Kam- 
 schatka from America. 4th. The situation 
 of the islands and the breadth of that ?ea. 
 
APPENDIX. 189 
 
 The sea is full of islands, which extend from 
 the northwest point of America to the chan- 
 nel of Anianova. One follows another, as 
 the Keruloski islands do at Japan. The 
 American coast at sixty degrees of north 
 latitude is covered with wood; but at Kam- 
 schatka, which is only fifty-one degrees, 
 there is none for near fifty versts from the 
 sea, and at sixty- two, not one tree is to be 
 found. It is known also, that the fish enter 
 the rivers on the American coast, earlier 
 than they do in the rivers of Kamschatka. 
 There are also raspberries, of a large size 
 and fine taste, besides honey suckles, cran- 
 berries and black-berries in great plenty. 
 In the sea there are seals, sea-beavers, 
 whales and dog-fish. In the country and in 
 the rivers on the American coast, red and 
 black foxes, swans, ducks, quails, plover, and 
 ten kinds of birds not known in Europe. 
 These particulars may help to answer the 
 question, whence was America peopled ; for 
 though we should grant that the two conti- 
 nents never were joined, yet they lie so near 
 to each other, that the possibility of the 
 inhabitants of Asia going over to America, 
 especially considering the number of the 
 islands, and the coldness of the climate, 
 cannot be denied. From Bhering's Island, 
 on its high mountains, you can see mountains 
 covered with snow, that appear to be capes, 
 
l96 APPENDIX. 
 
 of the main land of America. From all 
 which it appears clearly, here was a proba- 
 ble means of a people passing from Asia to 
 America, either on the main land before a 
 separation, or from island to island ; or on 
 the ice after a separation, by which the con- 
 tinent of America might have been peopled, 
 by the tribes of Israel wandering north-east 
 and directed by the unseen hand of Provi- 
 dence, and thus they entered into a country 
 wherein mankind never before dwelt. 
 
 It is not presumed that the ten tribes of 
 Israel alone did this. Many of the inhabi- 
 tants might have gone with them from Tar- 
 tary or Scythia; and particularly the old 
 inhabitants of Damascus, who were carried 
 away in the first place by Tiglah Pilnezer, 
 before his conquest of the Israelites, and 
 were their neighbours, and perhaps as much 
 dissatisfied with their place of banishment,^ 
 though for different reasons, as the Israelites, 
 as well as from Kamschatka, on their way 
 where they were stopped some time, as the 
 Egyptions did with the Isrealites of old. 
 And indeed it is not improbable, as has be- 
 fore been hinted, that some few of other 
 nations, who traded on the seas, might, in so 
 long a course of time, have been driven by 
 stress of weather, and reached the Atlantic 
 shores at different places ; but the great body 
 of people settling in North and South 
 
APPENDIX. I9i 
 
 America, must have originated from the 
 same source. 
 
 Hence it would not be surprising to find 
 among their descendants, a mixture of the 
 Asiatic languages, manners, customs and 
 peculiarities. Nay, it would appear rather 
 extraordinary and unaccountable if this was 
 not so. And if we should find this to be the 
 case, it would greatly corroborate the fact 
 of their having passed into America from 
 the north-east point of Asia, according to the 
 Indian tradition. We, at the present day^ 
 can hardly conceive of the facility with 
 which these wandering northen nations re- 
 moved from one part of the country to the 
 other. The Tarters at this time, who pos- 
 sess that northern country, live in tents or 
 covered carts, and wander from place to 
 place in search of pasture, &i.c. 
 
 The general character, manners, habits, 
 and customs of the Indians have been very 
 generally misrepresented. It is quite cer- 
 tain, that at the time of the discovery of this 
 continent by Columbus, it was peopled by 
 some thousands of tribes, scattered from the 
 coast opposite Kamschatka to Hudson's Bay. 
 Their exact number has never been ascer- 
 tained, and at this time it is impossible — 
 generation after generation, and tribe after 
 tribe have gone down to the grave, and 
 of some great and powerful nations, there 
 
19*2 APPEKDIX. 
 
 is not a solitary survivor left. It seems as if 
 the destroying angel had passed over the 
 country, and that the numerous and happy 
 natives had looked on him and died. Mr. 
 Boudinot mentions one hundred and ninety 
 different nations each having a Mng and 
 sachem, 
 
 " Du Pratz, in his History of Louisiana 
 ( vol. 108 — 123) gives an account of the 
 single nation of the Padoucas, lying west by 
 north-west of tlie Missouri, in 1724, which 
 may give a faint idea of the numbers origi- 
 nally inhabiting this vast continent. He says, 
 *' the nations of the Padu<ca's is very nume- 
 rous, extends almost two hundred leagues, 
 and they have villages quite close to the 
 Spaniards of New Mexico." " They are not 
 to be considered as a wandering nation, 
 though employed in hunting, summer and 
 winter — page 121. Seeing they have large 
 villages, consisting of a great number of 
 cabins, which contain very numerous fami- 
 lies. These are permanent abodes ; from 
 which one hundred hunters set out at a time 
 with their horses, their bows and a good 
 stock of arrows." " The village where we 
 were, consisting of one hundred and forty 
 huts, containing about eight hundred war- 
 riors, fifteen hundred women, and at least 
 two thousand children, some Padoucas 
 having four wives." — page 124* " The 
 
AFFET?I>IX 193 
 
 natives of North- America derive their origin 
 from the same country, since at bottom they 
 all have the same manners and usages, as 
 also the same manner of speaking and 
 thinking." 
 
 *' Mr. Jefferson late President of the 
 United States, in his Notes on Virginia, has 
 also given much useful information to the 
 world on several important subjects relating 
 to America, and among others, as to the 
 numbers of the Indians in that then dominion. 
 Speaking of the Indian confederacy of the 
 warriors, or rather nations, in that state and 
 its neighbourhood, called *' the Powhataii 
 confederacy," says, it contained in point of 
 territory, as he supposes, of their patrimonial 
 country " about three hundred miles in 
 length, and one hundred in breadth. That 
 there was about one inhabitant for every 
 square mile, and the proportion of warriors 
 to the whole number of inhabitants, was as 
 three to ten, making the number ofsouls 
 about thirty thousand." 
 
 /' Some writers state the number of their 
 warriors at the first coming of the Europeans 
 to Virginia, to be fifteen thousand, and their 
 population fifty thousand. La Houtan says 
 that each village contained about fourteen 
 thousand souls, that is, fifteen hundred that 
 bore arms, two thousand superannuated men 
 four thousand women, two thousand maids^ 
 
 17 
 
1'94 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 and four thousand five hundred children. 
 From all which, it is but a moderate esti- 
 mate to suppose that there were six hundred 
 thousand fighting men, or warriors, on this 
 continent at its first discovery. 
 
 " In 1677, Col. Coursey, an agent for Vir- 
 ginia, had a conference with the Five Na- 
 tions, at Albany. The number of warriors 
 was estimated at that time in those nations 
 at the following rate. Mohawks three hun- 
 dred, Oneidas two hundred, Onondagoes 
 three hundred and fifty, Cayugas three hun- 
 dred, Senecas one thousand — total two 
 thousand one hundred and fifty, which 
 makes the population about seven thousand 
 two hundred. Vide Chalmer's Pohtical 
 Annals, 606. 
 
 " Smith, in his History of Nev/-York, says 
 that in 1756, the number of fighting men 
 were about twelve hundred. 
 
 " Douglas, in his History of Massachu- 
 setts, says that they were about fifteen hun- 
 dred in 1760. 
 
 ^' In 1764, Col. Boquet states the whole 
 number of the inhabitants (he must mean 
 fighting men) at fifteen hundred and fifty. 
 
 " Captain Hutchins, in 1768, states them 
 at two thousand one hundred and twenty, 
 and Dodge, an Indian trader, in 1779, at 
 sixteen hundred, in the third year of the 
 American revolutionary war. Many reasons 
 
APTENDIX. 195 
 
 may be assigned for the above diiierenccs — • 
 some may have staid at home for the de- 
 fence of their towns — some might be absent 
 treating on disputes with their neighbours, 
 or sickness, he. he. 
 
 " During the above war, 1776 — 7, the 
 British had in their service, according to the 
 returns of their agent — Mohawks three hun- 
 dred, Oneidas one hundred and fifty, Tus- 
 caroras two hundred, Onondagoes three 
 hundred, Cayugas two hundred and thirty, 
 Senecas four hundred — In the whole fifteen 
 hundred and eighty. The Americans had 
 about two hundred and twenty, making up 
 eighteen hundred warriors, equal to^ about 
 six thousand souls. 
 
 " In 1783, Mr. Kirkland, missionary to 
 the Oneidas, estimated the number of the 
 Seneca warriors at six hundred, and the 
 total number of the Six Nations, at more 
 than four thousand. 
 
 *' 1790, he made the whole number of 
 Indian inhabitants then remaining, including 
 in addition, those who reside on Grand River, 
 in Canada, and the Stockbridge and Brother- 
 town Indians, to be six thousand three hun- 
 dred and thirty. 
 
 In 1794, the Six Nations numbered seven 
 thousand one hundred and forty-eight souls,. 
 
 But what are these to the Southern in- 
 (lians, and especially those of Mexico ar«:4 
 
1 96 APPENDIX. 
 
 Peru. I will give one example. Mons. Le 
 Page Du Pratz, in his History of Louisiana, 
 written about the year 1730, assures us, 
 '* that the nation of the Natchez, from whom 
 the town of that name on the Mississippi is 
 called, were the most powerful nation in 
 North America — 2 vol. 146. They ex- 
 tended from the river Manchas or Iberville, 
 which is about fifty leagues from the sea, to 
 the river Wabash, which is about four hun- 
 dred and sixty leagues from the sea, and 
 that they had five hundred Sachems in the 
 nation." He further says, " that the Chat- 
 kas or Flat-heads, near the river Pacha 
 Ogulasj had twenty-five thousand warriors, 
 but in which number, he supposes many 
 were reckoned who had but a slight title to 
 that name — Page 140. 
 
 A distinguishing trait in the character of 
 the aborigines, is that of unbounded hos- 
 pitality. Mr. Bartram, who knew the Semi- 
 nole Indians well, as he travelled among 
 them considerably, says that they possess a 
 vast territory, all East Florida,* and the 
 greatest part of West Florida, which being 
 naturally cut and divided into thousands of 
 islets, knolls, and eminences, by the innume- 
 rable rivers, lakes, swamps, savannas and 
 ponds, form so many secure retreats and 
 
 *The title of tho Indians to this and almost any otliev 
 portion of our soqthren country is extinguished I 
 
APPENDIX, IS-T 
 
 temporary dwelling places, that effectually 
 guard them from any sudden invasion or 
 uttacks from their enemies. And being such 
 a swampy, hammoky country, furnishes such 
 a plenty and variety of supplies for the 
 nourishment of every sort of animal, that I 
 can venture to assert, that no part of the 
 globe so abounds with wild game or crea- 
 ures fit for the food of man. Thus they 
 enjoy a superabundance of the necessities 
 and conveniences of life with the security of 
 persori and property, the two great concerns 
 of mankind. They seem to be free from 
 want or desires. No cruel enemy to dread ; 
 nothing to give them disquietude but the 
 gradual encroachments of the white people, 
 Thus contented and undisturbed, they ap- 
 pear as blithe and free as the birds of the 
 air, and like them as volatile and active, 
 tuneful and vociferous. The visage, action 
 and deportment of a Seminole, being the 
 most striking picture of happiness in this 
 life — -joy, contentment, love and friendship 
 without guile or afiectation, seem inherent 
 in them, or predominate in their vital prin- 
 ciple, for it leaves them but with the last 
 breath of life. 
 
 To exemplify their kindness to strangers, 
 he says, ^' that having lost his way in tra- 
 velling through their tov/ns, he was at a 
 stand how to proceed, when he observed an 
 17* 
 
198 APPEKDIX. 
 
 Indian man at the door of his habitation, 
 beckoning to him, to come to him. Bar- 
 tram accordingly rode up to him. He cheer- 
 fully welcomed him to his house, took care 
 of his horse, and with the most graceful air 
 of respect led him into an airy, cool apart- 
 ment, where being seated on cabins, his 
 women brought in a refreshing repast, with 
 a pleasant cool liquor to drink — then pipes 
 and tobacco. After an hour's conversation, 
 and Mr. Bartram informing him of his busi- 
 ness, and where he was bound, but having 
 lost his way, he did not know how to go on. 
 The Indian cheerfuly replied, that he was 
 pleased that Mr. B. was come in their 
 country, where he should meet with friend- 
 ship and protection ; and that he would him- 
 self lead him into the right path. He turned 
 out to be the prince or chief of Whatoga. 
 How long would an Indian have rode through 
 our country, before he would have received 
 such kindness from a common farmer, much 
 less a chief magistrate of a country ? Mr. 
 Bartram adds to the testimony of Father 
 Charlevoix, in favour of their good charac- 
 ters among themselves. He says they are 
 just, honest, hberal and hospitable to 
 strangers; considerate, loving and affec- 
 tionate to their wives and relations ; fond of 
 their children ; frugal and persevering ; 
 charitable and forbearing. He was weeks 
 
APPEiSDIX. 199 
 
 and nwnths among them in their towns, and 
 never observed the least sign of contention 
 or wrangling ; never saw an instance of an 
 Indian beating his wife or even reproving 
 her in anger." 
 
 Col. John Smith says, "when we had 
 plenty of green corn and roasting ears, the 
 hunters became lazy, and spent their time 
 in singing and dancing. They appeared to 
 be fulfilling the scriptures, beyond many of 
 those who profess to believe Hhem, in that of 
 taking no thought for to morrow, but in 
 living in love, peace and friendship, without 
 disputes. In this last respect they are an 
 example to those who profess Christianity — 
 page 29. 
 
 " As the Israelites were divided into 
 tribes, and had a chief over them, and 
 always marched under ensigns of some ani- 
 mal peculiar to each tribe, so the Indian 
 nations are universally divided into tribes, 
 under a sachem or king, chosen by the peo- 
 ple from the wisest and bravest among them. 
 He has neither influence or distinction, but 
 from his wisdom and prudence. He is as- 
 sisted by a council of old, ivise and benevo- 
 lent men, as they call their priests and coun- 
 sellors. Nothing is determined (of a public 
 nature) but in this council, where every one 
 has an equal voice. The chief or sachem 
 sits in the middle, and the council on each 
 hand, forming a semi-circle, as the high 
 
200 APPENDIX. 
 
 priest of the Jews did in llic Sanhedrim 
 of that nation." 
 
 Mr. Penn, when he first arrived in Pen- 
 sylvania, in the year 1683, and made a treaty 
 with them, makes the following observations, 
 in a letter he then wrote to his friends in 
 England. Every king has his council, and 
 that consists of all the old and wise men of 
 his nation, which perhaps are two hundred 
 people. Nothing of moment is undertaken, 
 be it war, peace, selling of land, or traffic, 
 without advising w^ith them. 'Tis admirable 
 to consider how powerful the chiefs are, and 
 yet how they move by the breath of the 
 people. I have had occasion to be in coun- 
 cil with them upon treaties for land, and to 
 adjust the terms of trade. Their order is 
 thus, the king sits in the middle of an half 
 moon, and hath his council, the old and wise 
 on each hand. Behind them, at a little dis- 
 tance sits the young fry, in the same figure. 
 Having consulted and resolved their busi- 
 ness, the king ordered one of them to speak 
 tome. He came to me, and in the name of 
 his king, saluted me. Then took me by the 
 hand, and told me that he was ordered by 
 his king to speak to me; and that now it 
 was not he, but the king that spoke, because 
 what he should say was the king's mind. 
 During the time this person was speaking, 
 not a man of them was observed to whisper 
 
APPENDIX. 201 
 
 or smile. The old were grave — the young 
 reverend in their deportment. They spoke 
 little, but fervently and with eloquence. He 
 will deserve the name of wise, who out-wits 
 them in any treaty about a thing they under- 
 stand. At every sentence they shout, and 
 say amen, in their way." 
 
 Mr. Smith, in his history of New-Jersey, 
 confirms this general statement. " They 
 are grave even to sadness, upon any com- 
 mon, and more so upon serious occasions — 
 observant of those in company, and respect- 
 ful to the aged — of a temper cool and de- 
 liberate — never in haste to speak, but wait, 
 for a certainty, that the person who spake 
 before them, had finished all he had to say. 
 They seemed to hold European vivacity in 
 contempt, because they found such as came 
 among them, apt to interupt each other, 
 and frequently speak altogether. Their 
 behaviour in public councils was stricly 
 decent and instructive. Every one, in his 
 turn, according to rank of years or wisdom, 
 or services to his country. Not a word, 
 whisper, or murmer, was heard while any 
 one spoke: no interruption to commend or 
 condemn : the younger sort were totally 
 silent. Those denominated kings, were 
 sachems distinguished by their wisdom and 
 good conduct. The respect paid them was 
 voluntary, and not exacted or looked for. 
 
':20'2 APPENDIX. 
 
 nor the omission regarded. The sachems 
 directed in tlieir councils, and had tlie chief 
 disposition of their lands," — page 141, 144. 
 Every nation of Indians have certain cus- 
 toms, which they observe in their public 
 transactions with other nations, and in their 
 private affairs among themselves, which is 
 scandalous for any one among them not to 
 observe. And these always draw after them 
 either public or private resentment, when 
 ever they are broken. Although these cus- 
 toms may, in their detail, differ in one nation, 
 when compared with another ; yet it is easy 
 to discern that they have all had one origin. 
 This is also apparent from every nation un- 
 derstanding them. Mr. Golden says, " their 
 great men, both sachems and captains, are 
 generally poorer than the common people ; 
 for they affect to give away, and distribute all 
 the presents or plunder they get in their 
 treaties or in war, so as to leave nothing to 
 themselves. There is not a man in the 
 ministry of the Five Nations (of whom Mr. 
 Golden was writing) who has gained his 
 office otherwise than by merit. There is 
 not the least salary, or any sort of profit, 
 annexed to any office, to tempt the covetous 
 or the sordid ; but on the contrary, every 
 unworthy action is unavoidably attended 
 with the forfeiture of their commission ; for 
 their authority is only the esteem of the 
 
APPE^'DIX. SOS 
 
 people^ and ceases the moment tliat esteem 
 is lost. An old Mohawk sachem, in a poor 
 blanket and a dirty shirt, may be seen issuing 
 his orders, with as arbitrary an authority as 
 a Roman dictator. 
 
 " As every nation, as before observed, has 
 its peculiar standard or symbol, as an eagle, 
 a bear, a wolf, or an otter, so has each tribe 
 the like badge, from which it is denominated. 
 When they encamp, on a march, they always 
 cut the representation of their ensign or 
 symbol, on the trees, by which it may be 
 known who have been there. The sachem 
 of each tribe is a necessary party in all con- 
 veyances and treaties, to which he affixes 
 the mark of his tribe, as a corporation does 
 that of the public seal. 
 
 " If you go from nation to nation, you will 
 not find one who does not lineally distinguish 
 himself by his respective family. As the 
 family or tribe of the eagle, panther, (which 
 is their lion) tyger, bufialo, (their ox or bull,) 
 and also the bear, deer, racoon, &c. &:c. 
 So among the Jews, was the lion of the tribe 
 of Judah — Dan was known by a serpent — 
 Issachar by an ass, and Benjamin by a wolf. 
 But the Indians, as the Jews, pay no re- 
 ligious respect for any of these animals, or 
 for any other whatever. 
 
 " They reckon time after the manner of" 
 the Hebrews. Thev divide the vcar into 
 
204 APPENDIX. 
 
 spring, summer, autumn, or the falling of the 
 leaf, and winter. Korah is their word for 
 winter with the Cherokee Indians, as it is 
 with the Hebrews. They number the years 
 by any of these four periods, for they have 
 no name for the year. And they subdivide 
 these, and count the year by lunar months, 
 or moons, like the Israelites, who also 
 counted by moons. They call the sun and 
 moon by the same word, with the addition 
 of day and night, as the day sun, or moon — 
 the night sun, or moon. They count the 
 day by three sensible differences of the sun 
 like the Hebrews — as the sun coming out — 
 mid-day, and the sun is dead, or sunset. 
 Midnight is halfway between the^sun going 
 in and coming out of the water — also by 
 mid-night and cock-crowing. They begin 
 their ecclesiastical year at the first appear- 
 ance of the first new moon of the vernal 
 equinox, according to the ecclesiastical year 
 of Moses. They pay great regard to the 
 first appearance of every new moon. They 
 name the various seasons of the year from 
 the planting and ripening of fruits. The 
 green eared moon is the most beloved or 
 sacred, when the first fruits become sanc- 
 tified, by being anually offered up ; and 
 from this period they count their beloved or 
 holy things. 
 
 The greatest act of hostility towards a 
 
A?PENDIX. 205- 
 
 fiation is to profane the graves of theic dead. 
 If one of their nation dies at a distance, they 
 secure the body from birds and wild beasts } 
 and when they " imagine the flesh is con- 
 sumed, and the bones dried, they return t& 
 the place, bring them home, and inter them 
 in a very solemn manner. The Hebrews, 
 in like manner, carefully buried theiir dead 
 but on any accident, they gathered their 
 bones, and laid then in the tombs of their 
 forefathers. Thus Jacob " charged his sonSy 
 and said unto them, I am to be gathered 
 unto my people, bury me with my fathers, 
 in the cave that is in the field of Ephron the 
 Hittite." This was in Canaan. *' There 
 they buried Abraham and Sarah his wife; 
 there they buried Isaac and Rebeckah his 
 wife; and there I buried Leah." ^' And 
 Joseph took an oath of the children of 
 Israel, saying,God will surely visit you, and 
 ye shall carry my bones fron hence." "And 
 Moses took the bones of Joseph with him."* 
 "and the bones of Joseph, which the chil- 
 dren of Israel brought up out of Egypt, 
 buried they in Shechem," as above men- 
 tioned. — Joshua xxiv. 32. The Jews buried 
 near their cities, and sometimes opposite to 
 their houses, implying a silent lesson of 
 friendship, and a caution to live well. They 
 
 * Gen. xlix. 29, 31—1. -ao—Exod. xiii.19. 
 
 18 
 
206 APPENDIX. 
 
 buried families together ; but strangers apart 
 by themselves. 
 
 When an old Indian finds that it is proba- 
 ble that he must die, he sends for his 
 friends, and with them collects his children 
 and family around him ; and then, with the 
 greatest composure, he addresses them in 
 the most affectionate manner, giving them 
 his last council, and advising them to such 
 conduct as he thinks for their best interests. 
 So did the patriarchs of old, and the Indians 
 seem to follow their steps, and with as much 
 coolness as Jacob did to his children, when 
 he was about to die. 
 
 A very worthy clergyman, with whom the 
 writer was well acquainted, and who had 
 long preached to the Indians, informed him, 
 that many years ago, having preached in the 
 morning to a considerable number of them, 
 in the recess between the morning and after- 
 noon services, news was suddenly brought, 
 that the son of an Indian woman, one of the 
 congregation then present, had fallen into 
 a mill-dam, and was drowned. Immediately 
 the disconsolate mother retired to some 
 distance in deep distress, and sat down on 
 the ground. Her female friends soon folr 
 lowed her, and placed themselves in like 
 manner around her, in a circle at a small 
 distance. They continued a considerable 
 time in profound and melancholy silence. 
 
APPENDIX. 207 
 
 except now and then uttering a deep groan. 
 All at once the mother putting her hand on 
 her mouth, fell with her face flat on the 
 ground, her hand continuing on her mouth. 
 This was followed, in like manner, by all 
 the rest, when all cried out with the most 
 melancholy and dismal yellings and groan- 
 ings. Thus they continued, with their hands 
 on their mouths, and their mouths in the 
 dust a considerable time. The men also 
 retired to a distance from them, and went 
 through the same ceremony, making the 
 most dismal groanings and yellings. 
 
 Need any reader be reminded of the 
 Jewish customs on occasions of deep humi- 
 liation, as in Job 21 and 5 — Mark me and 
 be astonished, and lay your hand on your 
 mouth. 29 and 9 — The princes refrained 
 talking, and laid their hands on their mouths. 
 49 and 4 — Behold ! I am vile, what shall I 
 answer thee? I will lay my hand on my 
 mouth. Micah 7 and 16 — The nations shall 
 see and be confounded; they shall lay their 
 hands on their mouth. Lament. 3 and 7 — 
 He putteth his mouth in the dust, if so be, 
 there may be hope. Prov. 30 and 32 — If 
 thou hast thought evil, lay thine hand upon 
 thine mouth. 
 
 The Choktaw Indians hire mourners to 
 magnify the merit and loss of the dead, and 
 if their tears do not flow, their shrill voices 
 
^08 APEENDIX. 
 
 will be heard to cry, which answers the 
 solemn chorus much better. However, some 
 of them have the art of shedding tears abun- 
 dantly. Jerem. ix. chap. 17, 19 — Thus 
 saith the Lord of Hosts, consider ye, and 
 call for the mourning women, that they may 
 come, and send for cunning women, that 
 they may come for a voice of wailing is 
 heard, he. 
 
 In Dobson's Encyclopedia, vol. 1. page 
 557. will be found some striking testimony 
 in favour of the strict and rigid raorahty of 
 the Indians. To that account I refer the 
 reader, who will find an interesting sketch, 
 entitled to credibility, of the advice given by 
 a father (an Indian) to an only son. As far 
 back as tradition reaches, it appears to have 
 been the practice among the Indians to 
 instruct their young men and women in 
 their system of morality. For this purpose, 
 teachers were appointed to instruct them in 
 it. Many of them however, after becoming 
 .[acquainted with the manners and customs 
 of the whites, doubled its efficacy, and acted 
 accordingly. The late venerated Boudinot, 
 in one of his last literary productions, relates 
 the following circumstances. 
 
 A minister preaching to a congregation 
 of christian Indians, west of the Delaware, 
 pbserved a stranger Indian, listening with 
 
APPENDIX. 209 
 
 great attention. After the service, the min- 
 ister inquired who he was ? It appeared on 
 inquiry, that he lived three hundred miles 
 to the westward — that he had just arrived 
 and gave this account of himself. " That 
 his elder hrother living in his house, had 
 been many days and nights in great perplex- 
 ity, wishing to learn to know the great spirit, 
 till at length he resolved to retire into the 
 woods, supposing that he should succeed 
 better in a state of separation from all man- 
 kind. Having spent many weeks alone in 
 great affliction, he thought he saw man of 
 majestic appearance, who informed him that 
 there were Indians living to the southeast, 
 who were acquainted with the great spirit 
 and the way to everlasting life; adding that 
 he should go home and tell his people, what 
 he had seen and heard. For this reason, as 
 soon as he had heard his brother speak, he 
 determined to travel in search of the people 
 he had described, till he found them ; and 
 since he had heard what had been said that 
 day, the words had been welcome to his 
 heart." 
 
 A missionary made a journey to the Shaw- 
 anese country, the most savage of4he Indian 
 nations. He stopped at the first village he 
 came to, and lodged with one of the chief 
 men. He informed the chief of his business, 
 and opened some truths of the gospel to him 
 18* 
 
210 APPENDIX. 
 
 by means of 311 interpreter who accompani- 
 ed him. The chief paid great attention, and 
 after sometime told him, that he was con- 
 vinced that the missionary's doctrines were 
 true, pointing out the right road. That the 
 Shavjanese had been long striving to find 
 the way of life ; but that he must own, with 
 regret, that all their labour and researches 
 had been in vain. That they, therefore, had 
 lost all courage, not knowing what they 
 should do further, to obtain happiness. 
 The chief accompanied the missionary to 
 the next village and persuaded him to lodge 
 with a heathen teacher. 
 
 The missionary then preached to him, and 
 told him that he had brought him the words 
 of eternal life. This the Indian said was 
 what they ivanted, and they would hear him 
 with pleasure. After some days, the heathen 
 teacher said, I have not been able to sleep 
 all night, for I am continually meditating 
 upon your words, and will now open to you 
 my whole heart. I believe what you say is 
 the truth. A year ago I became convinced, 
 that we are altogether sinful creatures, and 
 that none of our good works can save us ; 
 but I did not know what to do to get relief. 
 I have therefore always comforted my peo- 
 ple, that some body would come and shew 
 us the true way to happiness, for we are not 
 in the right way. And even but the day be- 
 
APPENDIX. Sll 
 
 Ibre you came, I desired my people to have 
 a little patience, and that some teacher would 
 certainly come. Now you are come, and I 
 verily believe that the great spirit has sent 
 you to make known his word to us. 
 
 Monsieur De Lapoterie^ a French author, 
 speaking of the Cherokees and other south- 
 ern Indians, gives this account of them : 
 *' These Indians look upon the end of life, 
 to be living happily ; and for this purpose 
 their whole customs are calculated to pre- 
 vent avarice, which they think embitters life. 
 
 Nothing is a more severe reflection among 
 them than to say, that a wan loves his own. 
 To prevent the use and propagation of such 
 a vice, upon the death of an Indian, they 
 burn all that belongs to the deceased, that 
 there may be no temptation for the parent 
 to hoard up a superfluity of arms or domes- 
 tic conveniences for his children. They 
 cultivate no more land than is necessary for 
 their plentiful subsi stance and hospitality to 
 strangers. At the feast of expiation, they 
 also burn all the fruits of the earth and grain 
 left of the past year's crops. 
 
 Mr. Brainard informs us, that about one 
 hundred and thirty miles from our settlements, 
 he met with an Indian, who was said to be a 
 devout and zealous reformer. He was dres- 
 sed in a hideous and terrific manner. He 
 had a house consecrated to religious purpo- 
 
212 APPENDIX. 
 
 ses. Mr. Brainard discoursed with him about 
 Christianity, and some of the discourse h6 
 seemed to like, but some of it he wholly re- 
 jected. He said that God had taught him 
 his religion, and that he would never turn 
 from it ; but wanted to find some who w^ould 
 heartily join him in it, for the Indians had 
 grown very degenerate and corrupt. He 
 said he had thoughts of leaving all his friends 
 and travelling abroad in order to find some 
 who would join with him, for he believed that 
 the great spirit had good people some where, 
 who felt as he did. He said that he had not 
 alwa3's felt as he then did, but had formerly 
 been like the rest of the Indians, until about 
 four or five years before that time. Then he 
 said, that his heiart was very much distressed, 
 so that he could not live among the Indians, 
 but got away into the woods and lived for 
 some months. At length he said the great 
 spirit had comforted his heart and showed him 
 what he should do ; and since that time he 
 had known the great spirit and tried to 
 serve him, and loved all men, be they who 
 they may, so as he never did before. He 
 treated Mr. Brainard with uncommon cour- 
 tesy, and seemed to be hearty in it. 
 
 The other Indians said, that he had oppo- 
 sed their drinking strong liquor with all his 
 power ; and if at any time he could not dis- 
 stiade them from it, he would leave them and 
 
^ crying into the woods. It was manifest 
 that he had a set of reRgious notions of his 
 own, that he had looked into for himself, and 
 had not taken for granted upon bare tradi- 
 tion ; and he relished or disrelished, whatever 
 was spoken of a religious nature, according 
 as it agreed or disagi-eed with his standard. 
 He would sometimes say, now that I like, so 
 the great spirit has taught me, &;c. Some of 
 his sentiments seemed very just ; yet he utterly 
 denied the existence of an evil spirit, and de- 
 clared there was no such a being known 
 among the Indians of old times, whose reli- 
 gion he supposed he was attempting to revive. 
 He also said that departed souls went south- 
 ward, and that the difference between the 
 good and bad was, that the former were ad- 
 mitted into a beautiful town with spiritual 
 walls, or walls agreeably to the nature of 
 souls. The latter would forever hover round 
 those walls, and in vain attempt to get in. 
 He seemed to be sincere, honest and consci- 
 entious in his own way, and according to his 
 own religious notions, which was more than 
 could be said of most other pagans Mr. Brai- 
 nard had seen. He was considered and de- 
 rided by the other Indians as a precise zealot, 
 who made an unnecessary noise about religi- 
 *3us matters, but in Mr Brainard's opinion, 
 ^ere was something in his temper and dis- 
 
114 -.APPENDIX. 
 
 position that looked more like true religiony 
 than any thing he had observed among other 
 heathen Indians. 
 
 JIntrian fj^^rtxri. 
 
 " Many shall come from the East and the West, and sit 
 " down with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, in the kingdom of 
 " God, when the children of the kingdom shall be thrust 
 " out." 
 
 In da darke wood, no Indian nigh, 
 Den me look heb'n, and send up cry 
 
 Upon me knee so low — 
 Dat God on high — in shiny place, 
 See me in night wid teary face. 
 
 Da priest did tell me so. 
 
 God send his angel, take me care, 
 He come himself and hear me pray'r, 
 
 If inside heart do pray ; 
 He see me now, he now me hear. 
 He say, poor Indian neber fear, 
 
 Me wid you night and day. 
 
 Den me lub God wid inside heart, 
 He figh fo me, he take me part, 
 
 He safe me life afore : 
 God lub poo Indian in da wood, 
 So me lub God, and dat be good. 
 
 Me praise him two time more. 
 
 THE END. 
 
University of 
 Connecticut 
 
 Libraries 
 
ih:i;iii'i I i{i'''i!» i"i 'i'i'HM'I«a