On one war club I counted _five_
fatal proofs of the savage who owned the weapon having butchered as many
women!
But whatever cruelties they practise on their female captives, they are
never known to take the slightest liberty with them _bordering on
indecency_. Mary Rowlandson, a fanatic, who was captured in 1765, has
the following passage in her narrative:
"I have been in the midst of these roaring lions, and savage bears, that
neither fear God, man, nor devil, by day and night, _alone_, and in
company, _sleeping all sorts together_, and yet not one of them offered me
the least abuse of unchastity, in word or action!"
Charlevoix, in his account of the Canadian Indians, says, there is no
example of their having taken the least liberty with any of the french
women, even when their prisoners. In short, all accounts allow them this
extraordinary male virtue, but differ whether it proceeds from education,
or what the french call temperament.
But as they do not look upon chastity as a necessary requisite in the
character of the squaws _before_ marriage, these ladies are said by
the white traders to be _less eminent_ for this virtue than their
warriors.
The works of F - - being little known in England, I send you some
specimens of his writing on _indian_ subjects; and, however uncouth,
his language may appear, you may rely on the truth and accuracy of his
descriptions: -
THE INDIAN STUDENT;
or,
FORCE OF NATURE.
RURA MIHI ET RIGUI PLACEANT IN VALLIBUS AMNES;
ILUMINA AMEM, SYLVASQUE INGLORIUS.
Virg. Georg. 2d. v. 483.
* * * * *
From Susquehanna's utmost springs,
Where savage tribes pursue their game,
His blanket tied with yellow strings,
A shepherd of the forest came.
Not long before, a wandering priest
Express'd his wish with visage sad -
'Ah, why,' he cry'd, 'in Satan's waste,
'Ah, why detain so fine a lad?
'In Yanky land there stands a town
'Where learning may be purchas'd low -
'Exchange his blanket for a gown,
'And let the lad to college go.'
From long debate the council rose,
And viewing Shalum's tricks with joy,
To _Harvard hall_[1], o'er wastes of snows,
They sent the copper-colour'd boy.
[Footnote 1: Harvard college, at Cambridge, near Boston.]
One generous chief a bow supply'd,
This gave a shaft, and that a skin;
The feathers, in vermilion dy'd,
Himself did from a turkey win:
Thus dress'd so gay, he took his way
O'er barren hills, alone, alone!
His guide a star, he wander'd far,
His pillow every night a stone.
At last he came, with leg so lame,
Where learned men talk heathen Greek,
And hebrew lore is gabbled o'er,
To please the muses, twice a week.
A while he writ, a while he read,
A while he learn'd the grammar rules. -
An indian savage, so well bred,
Great credit promis'd to their schools.
Some thought, he would in law excel,
Some said, in physic he would shine;
And one, that knew him passing well,
Beheld in him a sound divine.
But those of more discerning eye,
E'en then could _other_ prospects show,
And saw him lay his Virgil by,
To wander with his dearer _bow_.
The tedious hours of study spent,
The heavy-moulded lecture done,
He to the woods a hunting went,
But sigh'd to see the setting sun.
No mystic wonders fir'd his mind;
He sought to gain no learn'd degree,
But only sense enough to find
The _squirrel in the hollow tree_.
The shady bank, the purling stream,
The woody wild his heart possess'd;
The dewy lawn his morning dream
_In fancy's gayest colours dress'd._
'And why,' he cried, 'did I forsake
My native wood for gloomy walls?
The silver stream, the limpid lake,
For musty books and college halls?
'A little could my wants supply -
Can wealth and honour give me more?
Or, will the sylvan god deny
The humble treat he gave before?
'Let seraphs reach the bright abode,
And Heav'n's sublimest mansions see: -
I only bow to Nature's God -
_The land of shades_, will do for _me_.
'These dreadful secrets of the sky
'Alarm my soul with chilling fear: -
'Do planets in their orbits fly?
'And is the Earth, indeed, a sphere?
'Let planets still their aim pursue,
'And comets round creation run -
'In Him my faithful friend I view,
'The image of my God - the Sun.
'Where Nature's ancient forests grow,
'And mingled laurel never fades,
'My heart is fix'd; and I must go
'To die among my native shades.'
He spoke, - and to the western springs
(His gown discharged, his money spent)
His blanket tied with yellow strings,
The shepherd of the forest went.
Returning to the rural reign,
The Indians welcom'd him with joy;
The council took him home again,
And bless'd the copper-coloured boy.
Our author, brings his hero again upon the stage, under the title of
THE SPLENETIC INDIAN.
"To the best of my recollection, it was about the middle of the month of
August; we were sitting on a green bank by the brook side; the fox grapes
were not yet come to maturity; but we were anticipating the pleasure we
should soon experience in eating some fine clusters, that at this instant
hung over our heads in the tall shade of a beech tree; when, upon a sudden
clamour raised by some young fellows, who were advancing rapidly towards
us, the learned Indian sachem Tomo-cheeki, who at this time happened to be
my friend and companion, seized me by the hand, and intimated a strong
desire, that I should accompany him to his _wigwam_, situate at many
miles distance in the wilderness.
"A request so unusual, and at such a sultry season of the year (it being
now the height of the dog days), and to all appearance occasioned by so
trifling a circumstance as the approach of a few noisy bacchanalians,
could not but give me some surprise.
