University of Virginia Library

PREFACE.

The reader, who takes up these volumes,
in expectation of finding an imaginary and
romantic picture of things which never had
an existence, will probably lay them aside,
disappointed. The work is exactly what
it professes to be in its title-page—a narrative.
As it relates, however, to matters
which may not be universally understood,
especially by the more imaginative sex,
some of whom, under the impression that
it is a fiction, may be induced to read the
book, it becomes the interest of the author
to explain a few of the obscurities of the
historical allusions. He is admonished to
discharge this duty, by the bitter cup of
experience, which has often proved to him,
that however ignorant the public may be
of any thing before it is presented to their
eyes, the instant it has been subjected

to that terrible ordeal, they, individually
and collectively, and he may add, intuitively,
know more of it than the agent of
the discovery; and yet, that, in direct opposition
to this incontrovertible fact, it is
a very unsafe experiment either for a writer
or a projector to trust to the inventive powers
of any one but himself. Therefore,
nothing which can well be explained,
should be left a mystery. Such an expedient
would only impart a peculiar pleasure
to readers of that description, who
find a strange gratification in spending more
of their time in making books, than of
their money in buying them. With this
preliminary explanation of his reasons
for introducing so many unintelligible
words, in the very threshold of his undertaking,
the author will commence his task.
Of course, nothing will, or need be told,
with which any one, in the smallest degree
acquainted with Indian antiquities, is not
already familiar.

The greatest difficulty with which the
student of Indian history has to contend, is

the utter confusion that pervades the names.
When, however, it is recollected, that the
Dutch, the English, and the French, each
took a conqueror's liberty in this particular;
that the natives themselves not only speak
different languages, and even dialects of
those languages, but that they are also fond
of multiplying their appellations, the difficulty
is more a matter of regret than of surprise.
It is hoped, that whatever other
faults may exist in the following pages, their
obscurity will be thought to arise from this
fact.

The Europeans found that immense region
which lies between the Penobscot and
the Potomac, the Atlantic and the Mississippi,
in the possession of a people who
sprang from the same stock. In one or
two points of this immense boundary, their
limits may have been a little extended or
curtailed, by the surrounding nations; but
such, in general terms, was the extent of
their territory. The generic name of this
people was the Wapanachki. They were

fond, however, of calling themselves the
“Lenni Lenape,” which of itself signifies,
an “unmixed people.” It would far exceed
the information of the author, to enumerate
a moiety of the communities, or
tribes, into which this race of beings was
subdivided. Each tribe had its name, its
chiefs, its hunting grounds, and, frequently,
its dialect. Like the feudal princes of
the old world, they fought among themselves,
and exercised most of the other privileges
of sovereignty. Still, they admitted
the claims of a common origin, a similar
language, and of that moral interest, which
was so faithfully and so wonderfully transmitted
through their traditions. One
branch of this numerous people was seated
on a beautiful river, known as the
“Lenapewihittuck,” where the “long
house,” or Great Council Fire, of the nation
was universally admitted to be established.

The tribe that possessed the country which
now composes the south-western parts of
New-England, and that portion of New-York
that lies east of the Hudson, and

the country even much farther to the south,
was a mighty people, called the “Mahicanni,”
or, more commonly, the “Mohicans.”
The latter word has since been
corrupted by the English, into “Mohegan.”

The Mohicans were again subdivided.
In their collective capacity, they even disputed
the point of antiquity with their neighbours,
who possessed the “long house;”
but their claim to be the “eldest son” of
their “grandfather,” was freely allowed.
Of course, this portion of the original proprietors
of the soil was the first dispossessed
by the whites. The few of them that now
remain, are chiefly scattered among other
tribes, and retain no other memorials of
their power and greatness, than their melancholy
recollections.

The tribe that guarded the sacred precincts
of the council house, was distinguished
for ages by its flattering title of the “Lenape;”
but after the English changed the
appellation of their river to “Delaware,”
they came gradually to be known by the

same name. In the use of these terms, however,
great delicacy of perception was observed
among themselves. These shades of
expression pervade their language, tempering
all their communications, and frequently
imparting its pathos or energy to
their eloquence.

For many hundreds of miles along the
northern boundaries of the Lenape, was seated
another people, similarly situated as to
subdivisions, descent, and language. They
were called by their neighbours the “Mengwe.”
These northern savages were, for a
time, however, less powerful, and less united,
than the Lenape. In order to obviate
this disadvantage, five of the most powerful
and warlike of their tribes, who lay nearest
to the council house of their enemies,
confederated for the purposes of mutual defence;
being, in truth, the oldest United
Republics of which the history of North
America furnishes any evidence. These
tribes were the Mohawks, the Oneidas, the
Senecas, the Cayugas, and the Onondagas.

At a later day, a straggling band of their
race, which had “gone nigher to the
sun,” was reclaimed, and admitted into a
full communion of all their political privileges.
This tribe (the Tuscarora) increased
their number so far, that the English
changed the appellation they had
given the confederation, from the “Five”
to the “Six Nations.” It will be seen, in
the course of the narrative, that the word
nation is sometimes applied to a community,
and sometimes to the people, in their
most extended sense. The Mengwe were
often called by their Indian neighbours, the
“Maquas,” and frequently, by way of contempt,
“Mingoes.” The French gave them
the name of “Iroquois,” which was probably
a corruption of one of their own terms.

There is a well authenticated and disgraceful
history of the means by which the
Dutch on one side, and the Mengwe on the
other, succeeded in persuading the Lenape
to lay aside their arms, trusting their defence
entirely to the latter, and becoming,

in short, in the figurative language of the
natives, “women.” The policy on the part
of the Dutch was a safe one, however generous
it may have been. From that moment
may be dated the downfal of the greatest
and most civilized of the Indian nations,
that existed within the limits of the present
United States. Robbed by the whites, and
murdered and oppressed by the savages,
they lingered for a time around their council-fire,
but finally broke off in bands, and
sought refuge in the western wilds. Like
the lustre of the dying lamp, their glory
shone the brightest as they were about to
become extinct.

Much more might be said concerning
this interesting people, especially of their
later history, but it is believed not to be
essential to the plan of the present work.
Since the death of the pious, the venerable,
and the experienced Heckewelder, a fund
of information of this nature has been extinguished,
which, it is feared, can never
again be collected in one individual. He

laboured long and ardently in their behalf,
and not less to vindicate their fame, than to
improve their moral condition.

With this brief introduction to his subject,
then, the author commits his book to
the reader. As, however, candour, if not
justice, requires such a declaration at his
hands, he will advise all young ladies, whose
ideas are usually limited by the four
walls of a comfortable drawing room; all
single gentlemen, of a certain age, who are
under the influence of the winds; and all
clergymen, if they have the volumes in
hand, with intent to read them, to abandon
the design. He gives this advice to such
young ladies, because, after they have read
the book, they will surely pronounce it
shocking; to the bachelors, as it might
disturb their sleep; and to the reverend
clergy, because they might be better employed.