University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.

Now the laughing, jolly spring began
sometimes to show her buxom face in the
bright morning; but ever and anon, meeting
the angry frown of winter, loath to resign his
rough sway over the wide realm of nature, she
would retire again into her southern bower,
Yet, though her visits were at first but short,
her very look seemed to exercise a magic
influence. The buds began slowly to expand
their close winter folds; the dark and melancholy
woods to assume an almost imperceptible
purple tint; and here and there a little chirping
blue-bird hopped about the orchards of
Elsingburgh. Strips of fresh green appeared
along the brooks, now released from their icy
fetters; and nests of little variegated flowers,
nameless, yet richly deserving a name, sprung
up in the sheltered recesses of the leafless woods.

By and by, the shad, the harbinger at once of
spring and plenty, came up the river before the
mild southern breeze; the ruddy blossoms of
the peach-tree exhibited their gorgeous pageantry;
the little lambs appeared frisking and
gamboling about the sedate mother; young, innocent
calves began their first bleatings; the cackling
hen announced her daily feat, in the barnyard,
with clamorous astonishment; every day
added to the appearance of that active vegetable
and animal life, which nature presents in the progress
of the genial spring; and finally, the
flowers, the zephyrs, the warblers, and the
maidens' rosy cheeks, announced to the eye, the
ear, the senses, the fancy, and the heart, the
return, and the stay of the vernal year.

But the sprightly song, the harmony of
nature, the rural blessings, and the awakened
charms of spring, failed to bring back peace or
joy to the bosom of our blue-eyed maid. Every
heart seemed glad save hers; and the roses
grew every where but on the cheek of Christina.

Yet, however interested we may be for the
repose and happiness of that gentle girl, we
are compelled to lose sight of her for a while,
in order to attend to matters indispensable to the
progress of our history.

At the period of which we are writing, the
whole of both banks of the Delaware, from
the Hoarkill, now Lewiston, to Elsingburgh,
was in a state of nature. The country had
been granted by different monarchs to different
persons, who had, from time to time, purchased
of the Indians large tracts of country, of which
but a very inconsiderable portion, just about
their forts, was cultivated. Above Elsingburgh,
was the settlement of Coaquanock, on
the same side of the Delaware; and higher up
was Chygoos, and the Falls settlement, where
Trenton now stands. Beyond this, establishments
had been formed, and small villages
built, at Elizabeth-Town, Bergen, Middletown,
Shrewsbury, Amboy, and perhaps a few other
places. With little exceptions, all the settlers
dwelt in villages for their security against the
Indians, having their farms scattered around,
which they cultivated with arms in their hands.

In the intermediate spaces, between these
distant settlements, resided various small tribes
of Indians, who sometimes maintained friendly
relations with their new neighbours, at others
committed depredations and murders. The
early settlers of this country were, perhaps, as
extraordinary a race of people as ever existed.

Totally unwarlike in their habits, they ventured
upon a new world, and came, few in numbers,
fearlessly into the society and within the power
of a numerous race of savages. The virtuous
and illustrious William Penn, and his
followers, whose principles and practice were
those of non-resistance, and who held even
self-defence unlawful, trusted themselves to the
wilds, not with arms in their hands, to fight their
way among the wild Indians, but with the olive
branch, to interchange the peaceful relations of
social life. There was in these adventurers
generally, a degree of moral courage, faith,
perseverance, hardihood, and love of independence,
civil and religious, that enabled them to
do with the most limited means, what, with the
most ample, others have failed in achieving.
We cannot read their early history, and dwell
upon the patient endurance of labours and
dangers on the part of the men, of heroic faith
and constancy on that of the women, without
feeling our eyes moisten, our hearts expand
with affectionate admiration of these our noble
ancestors, who watered the young tree of liberty
with their tears, and secured to themselves
and their posterity the noblest of all privileges,
that of worshipping God according to their
consciences, at the price of their blood.

The character of the Indian nations, which
inhabited these portions of the country, and indeed
that of all the various tribes of savages
in North America, was pretty uniform. Like
all ignorant people, they were very superstitious.
When the great comet appeared in 1680, a Sachem
was asked what he thought of its appearance.
“It signifies,” said he, “that we Indians
shall melt away, and this country be inhabited
by another people.” They had a great veneration
for their ancient burying-grounds; and
when any of their friends or relatives died at a
great distance, would bring his bones to be
interred in the ancient cemetery of the tribe.
Nothing, in after times, excited a deeper vengeance
against the white people, than their
ploughing up the ground where the bones of their
fathers had been deposited. When well treated,
they were kind and liberal to the strangers; but
were naturally reserved, apt to resent, to conceal
their resentment, and retain it a long time.
But their remembrance of benefits was equally
tenacious, and they never forgot the obligations
of hospitality.

An old Indian used to visit the house of a
worthy farmer at Middletown in New-Jersey,
where he was always hospitably received and
kindly entertained. One day the wife of the
farmer observed the Indian to be more pensive
than usual, and to sigh heavily at intervals.
She inquired what was the matter, when he replied,
that he had something to tell her, which,
if it were known, would cost him his life. On
being further pressed, he disclosed a plot of the
Indians, who were that night to surprise the
village, and murder all the inhabitants. “I
never yet deceived thee,” cried the old man;
“tell thy husband, that he may tell his white
brothers; but let no one else know that I have
seen thee to day.” The husband collected
the men of the village to watch that night.
About twelve o'clock they heard the war-whoop;
but the Indians, perceiving them on their guard,
consented to a treaty of peace, which they never
afterwards violated.

Their ideas of justice were nearly confined
to the revenging of injuries; but an offender who
was taken in attempting to escape the punishment
of a crime, submitted to the will of his
tribe, without a murmur. On one occasion, a
chief named Tashyowican lost a sister by the

small-pox, the introduction of which by the
whites was one great occasion of the hostility of
the Indians. “The Maneto of the white man has
killed my sister,” said he, “and I will go kill the
white man.” Accordingly, taking a friend with
him, they set upon and killed a settler of the name
of Huggins. On receiving information of this
outrage, the settlers demanded satisfaction of
the tribe to which Tashyowican belonged, threatening
severe retaliation if it were refused. The
Sachems despatched two Indians to take him,
dead or alive. On coming to his wigwam,
Tashyowican, suspecting their designs, asked if
they intended to kill him. They replied, “no—
but the Sachems have ordered you to die.”
“And what do you say, brothers?” replied he.
“We say you must die,” answered they. Tashyowican
then covered his eyes, and cried out
“kill me,” upon which they shot him through
the heart.

Previous to their intercourse with the whites,
they had few vices, as their state of society
furnished them with few temptations;
and these vices were counterbalanced by
many good, not to say great qualities. But, by
degrees, they afterwards became corrupted by
that universal curse of their race, spirituous liquors,

the seductions of which the best and
greatest of them could not resist. It is this
which has caused their tribes to wither away,
leaving nothing behind but a name, which will
soon be forgotten, or, at best, but a miserable
remnant of degenerate beings, whose minds are
debased, and whose forms exhibit nothing of that
tall and stately majesty which once characterized
the monarchs of the forest.

But the most universal and remarkable trait
in the character of the red-men of North America,
was a gravity of deportment, almost approaching
to melancholy. It seemed as if they
had a presentiment of the fate which awaited them
in the increasing numbers of the white strangers;
and it is certain, that there were many
traditions and prophecies among them, which
seemed to indicate the final ruin and extinction
of their race. Their faces bore the expression
of habitual melancholy; and it was observed
that they never laughed or were gay, except
in their drunken feasts, which, however, generally
ended in outrage and bloodshed. The
little Christina always called them THE SAD
PEOPLE; and the phrase aptly expressed their
peculiar character.

It is little to be wondered at, if two races of

men, so totally distinct in habits, manners, and
interests, and withal objects of mutual jealousy,
suspicion and fear, should be oftener enemies
than friends. Every little singularity observed
in the actions and deportment of each other,
accordingly gave rise to suspicion, often followed
by outrage; and every little robbery committed
on the property of either, was ascribed
to the other party, so that the history of their
early intercourse with each other, is little other
than a narrative of bickerings and bloodshed.
Thus they continued, until it finally happened
in the new, as it hath always happened in the
old world, that the “wise white-man” gained a final
ascendency, and transmitted it to his posterity.

About the period to which our history has
now brought us, there existed considerable misunderstanding
between the Heer Piper and the
neighbouring tribes. A mill had been built
near the mouth of the little river, which being
dammed across, the shad and herrings, which
formed the principal portion of their food at this
season, could no longer ascend the stream into
the interior of the country, where the Indians
came in the spring to fish. The Indians had
likewise drank up the liquor, expended the
powder, and worn out the watch-coats they had

received for a large territory they had sold to
the Swedish government; and, as usual on such
occasions, began to be sick of their bargain.
The Sachems also complained that Dominie
Kanttwell had been tampering with some of
their people, and, in attempting to teach them
to be good christians, had only taught them to
drink rum, and made them bad Indians.

On the other hand, the Heer Piper charged
them with trespassing on the rights of his
Swedish Majesty, by hunting on the lands ceded
by them in fair purchase. He also hinted his
suspicions of a design on their part to
surprise the town of Elsingburgh, which
suspicion he founded upon some mysterious
hints of the Snow Ball, who of late had given
vent to certain inexplicable obscurities. Dominie
Kanttwell, too, was horribly out of humour, in
consequence of having been sorely puzzled in
argument, not long since, by a sly old Sachem
whom he attempted to convert to what he assured
him was the only true faith. The old
Sachem listened till he had done, it being their
custom never to interrupt any person in speaking,
and then replied with great gravity:—

“Brother, you say your religion is the only
true religion in the world. Good. I have been

in Canada, and there they told me theirs was
the only true religion. Good. I have been at
Boston, where they assured me the religion of
the people of Canada was the religion of the
bad spirit, and that theirs was the only true
one. Good. I have been at the Manhattans,
where they called the white people of Boston
bad people, and said they had no religion. Good.
I have been at Coaquanock, among the Big
Hats, and they told me the religion of the Manhattans
was not the right sort. Good. I am
here, and you say, brother, ours is the only good
religion, and you must believe like me. Good.
But brother, which am I to believe? You say,
all of you, that the good book out of which you
preach is what you all take for your guide,
and that it is written by the Great Spirit himself,
yet you all differ among yourselves. Now,
brother, hear what I have got to say. As soon
as you shall agree among yourselves which is
the true religion, I shall think of joining you,
Good.”

To explain these apparent contradictions to
the capacity of a man of nature, was out of the
question. Indians cannot comprehend metaphysical
subtilties, and the religion calculated for a
state of society like theirs, must be composed

of the most simple elements. However this may
be, the Dominie resented the obstinacy of the
old Sachem, and actually talked of converting
the savages with fire and sword. The Heer,
however, preferred calling a conference with
some of the Chiefs, who were accordingly summoned
to meet the Representative of the Swedish
Majesty, at a spot about four miles from Elsingburg,
on the bank of the little river to which
we have so often alluded in the course of this
history.

The place selected for this meeting was a little
flat in a curve of the river, which was here
about twenty yards wide, clothed with majestic
elms and sycamores, standing at various distances
from each other, and without any underwood.
The greensward extended to the edge of the
stream on one side, and on the other rose a lofty
barrier of rocks, clothed with gray mosses, and
laurel bushes, now just exhibiting their pale pink
blossoms. The precipice was crowned, at its
summit, with a primeval growth of lofty oaks
that waved their broad arms beyond the rocks,
and partly overshadowed the stream, which, a
little onward, wound between two high hills and
disappeared.

To this sequestered spot came the Heer Piper,

accompanied by the Long Finne, Dominie
Kanttwell, the trusty Counsellors of Elsingburg,
together with divers men, women, and children,
drawn thither by curiosity, and whom the trusty
and indefatigable Lob Dotterel kept in order,
by dint of making more noise than all the rest.
Here, too, came ten or a dozen of the monarchs
of the new world, whose names and titles, translated
into English, equal those of the most lofty
and legitimate kings of the east. There came
the Big Buffalo, the Little Duck Legs, the Sharp
Faced Bear, the Walking Shadow, the Rolling
Thunder, the Iron Cloud, the Jumping Sturgeon,
the Belly Ach, and the Doctor, all legitimate
sovereigns, with copper rings in their noses,
blanket robes of state, and painted faces. These
were accompanied by a train of inferior chiefs
and warriors, who seated themselves in silence,
in a half circle, on one side of the little plain.
On the right of these sat the kings, their bodies
bent forward in a posture to listen, and their
blankets drawn closely around their shoulders,
which, when occasionally opened, disclosed the
deadly tomahawk and scalping knife.

On the opposite side, upon a little natural
platform, was placed a bench, or tribune, for
the Heer Piper and his suite. The Heer on this

occasion was dressed in his uniform as a
Swedish officer, which he wore under the Great
Gustavus, and had on a sword, given him, as he
affirmed, by that Bulwark of the Protestant Faith,
as a reward for certain great services, which
Governor Piper declined to enumerate, except on
new-year's eve, and other remarkable epochs.
The Rolling Thunder produced a long pipe,
ornamented with died horse hair, porcupine's
quills variously coloured, and many enormous
devices. Having lighted it, he took a whiff or
two, handed it to the next, and thus it passed
completely round the circle, till both white-men
and red-men had partaken in the
solemn rite of peace. The Rolling Thunder
then bowed gracefully to the Heer, and waved
his hand in token that they were ready to hear
him. Governor Piper rose, and his speech was
from time to time translated by an interpreter.

“Delawares, Minks, Mingoes, Muskrats,
and Mud Turtles, listen!” said the Heer,
feeling all the dignity of his situation as the
representative of a king, addressing an assemblage
of kings.

“You have behaved badly of late; you have
sold lands, and taken them back again, after

you had shot away your powder, emptied your
tobacco boxes, and drank your rum.

“Delawares, Minks, Mingoes, Muskrats
and Mud Turtles, listen!

“You grow worse every day, notwithstanding
the trouble we take to make you better;
you get drunk and fight each other with knives,
instead of embracing like brothers. This is
wicked, and the Great Spirit will punish you.
Before many moons are passed away, people
will ask what has become of the Delawares, the
Mingoes, and the rest of the red-men? and the
answer shall be, they have been consumed in
liquid fires.

“Delawares, Minks, Mingoes, Muskrats and
Mud Turtles, listen!

“You have refused to hear those whom I sent
amongst you, to teach you the worship of the
true Great Spirit, who is angry with you, and has
sent the small-pox to punish your obstinacy.
You have hunted on the white-man's ground,
and broke down the dam I caused to be built
across the river, that we might grind our corn,
and saw boards to build our houses. These are
some of the things I wished to talk to you about.
The Great Spirit, I tell you, is angry, and your
great father, across the big lake yonder, will

take vengeance. Let me hear what you have
to say.”

The red kings heard this harangue in dead
silence, and waited a little while to see if the
Heer had done speaking. The Rolling Thunder
then rose, and, throwing back his blanket, so as to
bare his shoulder and red right arm, spoke as
follows, beginning in a low tone, and gradually
becoming more loud and animated:—

“Long Knife! The strong liquor was first
brought among us by the Dutch, who sold it to
us, and then told us we must not drink it; they
knew it was for our hurt, yet they tempted us to
buy it.

“Long Knife! The next people that came
among us was the English, who likewise sold us
strong liquors, which they blamed us afterwards
for drinking. The next that came were the
Swedes, your people, and they too sold us
strong drinks. All of you knew they were
hurtful to us, and that if you let us have them,
we would drink them, and become mad. We
drink, abuse one another, and throw each other
into the fire. Six score and ten of our people
have been killed by their own brothers, in these
mad fits of drinking. Who is to blame for
this?

“Long Knife! You say, that after we have
made away with the price of our lands we come
there and hunt on them as if they were our
own. We sold you the land, and the trees upon
it, but we did not sell the fowls of the air, and
the beasts of the forest. These belong to those
who have courage and skill to catch them.
The Long Knives don't know how to hunt any
more than women. You say, too, that we have
destroyed the dam which you made across the
river to grind your corn. This spring, when
we were looking out for the fish to come up the
river as they used to do, none came, and our
women and children were near starving. We
came down to see what was the matter, and
found the fish could not get up your dam, so we
destroyed it. You tell us that men should do
as they would be done by. Why then did you
deprive us of fish, that you might grind your
corn?

“Long Knife! We have listened to the Dominie's
talks, and tried to understand them, but
we cannot. The Great Spirit has given the
red-men one mind, and the white-men another.
When you bargain with us for three beaver skins,
you will not take one for three; yet you want
us to believe that three Great Spirits make but

one Great Spirit. We can't understand this.
Is that our fault?

“Long Knife! You say we grow worse and
worse every day, and that the Great Spirit will,
in his anger, sweep us from the face of the earth.
We know this, for already our numbers are
growing less and less every day. The white-man
is the fire which is lighted in the woods,
and burns up the leaves, and kills the tall trees
of the forest. We shall perish, or be driven before
it, till we come to where the sun sets in the
great salt lake of the West, and when we can
go no further, there will soon be an end of our
race. If such is the will of the Great Spirit, we
cannot help it; if it is not his will, you cannot
make it so.

“Long Knife! I have answered you: now,
hear me. You came here as strangers, but few
in number, and asked us for a little piece of land
for a garden—we gave it you. By and by,
you asked for more, and it was given. When we
were tired of giving, you purchased of us great
tracts of country for tobacco boxes and rum.
The tobacco boxes and rum are gone, and you
have the land. Is it any wonder that we
are angry at being made fools of, and wish to
have our lands back again? Every day the

white-man comes, and pushes the Indian farther
and farther back into the woods, where there are
neither fish nor oysters to eat. Is it any wonder
that, when we are hungry, we fall into bad
humours and hate the white-men? The Dominie
tells us that you have a right to our country,
because we don't make fences, plough up the
ground, and grow rich and happy, like your people,
in their own country. If they were so happy
at home, I don't see why they came here.

“Long Knife! We would like to be friends
with you, but you are a bad people; you have
two faces, two hearts, and two tongues; you
tell us one thing, and you do another: a red-man
never lies, except when you have made him
drunk; what he says, he will do; he never crosses
his track. You came here as friends, but you
have been our worst enemies; you brought
us strong drink, small-pox and lies: go home
again, and take these all back with you. We
would, if possible, be as we once were, before
you came amongst us. Go! leave us to our
woods, our waters, our ancient customs, and our
ancient gods. If the Great Spirit wishes us to
plough the land, sell rum, and become Christians,
he can do it. But the means you take will
only bring these things about, when there

will be nothing left of the red-men but their
name, and their graves.”

When the Rolling Thunder ceased, Dominie
Kanttwell arose and made a speech, which,
however zealous and well meant, only served to
exasperate the red kings. He treated their ancient
belief with scorn; insulted their feelings
of national pride; scoffed at their modes of
thinking and acting; and drew a mortifying
contrast betwixt the ignorant barbarian roaming
the woods, and the white-man enjoying the
comfort and security of civilized life. The surrounding
Indians began to murmur; then to
gnash their teeth, and finally many of them,
starting up, seized their tomakawks, and uttered
the war-whoop. The Heer and his party were
now in imminent danger of falling victims to the
fury of the moment. But the Rolling Thunder
arose, and, waving his hand for silence, spoke as
follows:—

“Red-men!—hear me! The Long Knives
came here in peace, so let them depart. Let
us not imitate their treachery, by taking advantage
of their confidence to destroy them. Behold!
I here extinguish the pipe of peace; I
break the belt of wampum, that was the symbol
of our being friends, and dig up the buried

tomahawk. We are friends no more. Long
Knife, go hence in peace to day, but to-morrow
count the red-men thy mortal foes. Before
another moon is past, look to see me again.”
He then bared his arm, and, drawing his knife,
stuck it into the fleshy part. The blood spouted
forth, as he exclaimed, “For every drop that
now falls to the ground there shall be counted
one, two, three, ay, four victims, from the nest
of the serpent.”

The red kings then slowly moved off, followed
by their people, who gradually disappeared,
yelling the war-whoop, and chanting
bloody songs, till at length their voices died
away in the recesses of the forest. The alarmed
and irritated Heer muttered to himself “Verflucht
und verdamt sey deine schwarze seele,”
and, together with his train, returned gloomy
and dissatisfied to his village of Elsingburgh.