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.
