قراءة كتاب A Ramble of Six Thousand Miles through the United States of America
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A Ramble of Six Thousand Miles through the United States of America
entirely woodlands, with the exception of a few small prairies which lay eastward of my course. The land is generally fertile. Some light sandy soil is occasionally to be met with, which produces more quickly than the heavier soil, but not so abundantly. I saw in my travels through these counties a few persons who were ill of ague-fever, as it is here called. The prevalence of this disease is not to be attributed to a general unhealthiness of the climate, but can at all times be referred to localities.
I next entered Crawford county, and crossed the Wyandot prairie, about seven miles in length, to Upper Sandusky. This was the first of those extensive meadows I had seen, and I was much pleased with its appearance—although this prairie is comparatively but small, yet its beauty cannot be surpassed; and the groves, and clusters of trees, iles de bois, with which it is interspersed, make it much resemble a beautiful domain.
Attached to the Wyandot reserve (nine miles by sixteen) is that of the Delawares (three miles square). On reaching Little Sandusky—Kahama's curse on the town baptizers of America!—there are often five or six places named alike in one state: upper and lower, little and big, great and small—and invariably the same names that are given to towns in one State, are to be found in every other. Then their vile plagiarisms of European names causes a Babelonish confusion of ideas, enough to disturb the equanimity of a "grisly saint;" and, with all humility, I disclaim having any pretensions to that character. I have frequently heard a long-legged, sallow-looking backwoodsman talk of having come lately from Paris, or Mecca, when instead of meaning the capital of La grande nation, or the city of "the holy prophet," he spoke of some town containing a few hundred inhabitants, situated in the backwoods of Kentucky, or amidst the gloomy forests of Indiana. The Americans too speak in prospective, when they talk of great places; no doubt "calculating" that, one day, all the mighty productions of the old world will be surpassed by their ingenuity and perseverance.
I reached Little Sandusky about one o'clock in the day, and there learned that there was a treaty being holden with the Delawares—accordingly I repaired to the council ground. On a mat, under the shade of seven large elm trees, which in more prosperous times had waved over the war-like ancestors of this unfortunate people, were seated three old sachems, the principal of the tribe. The oldest appeared to be nearly eighty years of age, the next about seventy, and the last about fifty. On a chair to the right of the Indians was seated a young "half-breed" chief, the son of one of the sachems by a white squaw; and on their left, seated on another chair, a Delaware dressed in the costume of the whites. This young man was in the pay of the States, and acted as interpreter—he interpreting into and from the Delaware language, and a gentleman of the mission (a Captain Walker) into and from the Wyandot. At a table opposite the Indians were seated the commissioners.
The Lenni Lenapé, or Delawares, as they were called by the English, from the circumstance of their holding their great "Council-fire" on the banks of the Delaware river, were once the most powerful of the several tribes that spoke the Delaware tongue, and possessed an immense tract of country east of the Alleghany mountains. This unfortunate people had been driven from place to place, until at last they were obliged to accept of an asylum from the Wyandot, whom they call their uncle; and now are forced to sell this, and go beyond the Mississippi. To a reflecting mind, the scene was touching beyond description. Here was the sad remnant of a great nation, who having been forced back from the original country of their fathers, by successive acts of rapacity, are now compelled to enter into a compact which obliges them, half civilized as they are, to return to the forest. The case is this,—the white people, or rather Jackson and the southerns, say, that the Indians "retard improvement"—precisely in the same sense that a brigand, when he robs a traveller, might say, that the traveller retarded improvement—that is, retarded his improvement, inasmuch as he had in his pocket, what would improve the condition of the brigand. The Indians have cultivated farms, and valuable tracts of land, and no doubt it will improve the condition of the whites, to get possession of those farms and rich lands, for one tenth of their saleable value. The profits that have accrued to the United States from the systematic plunder of the Indians, are immense, and a great portion of the national debt has been liquidated by this dishonest means.[2]
The reserve of the Delawares contained nine square miles, or 5760 acres. For this it was agreed at the treaty, that they should be paid 6000 dollars, and the value of the improvements, which I conceived to be a fair bargain. I was not then aware of the practice pursued by the government, of making deductions, under various pretences, from the purchase-money, until the unfortunate Indian is left scarcely anything in lieu of his lands, and says, that "the justice of the white man is not like the justice of the red man," and that he cannot understand the honesty of his Christian brother. The following extract, taken from the New York American, will give some insight into the mode of dealing with the Indians.
"The last of the Ottowas.—Maumee Bay, Ohio, Sept. 3, 1831.—Mr. James B. Gardiner has concluded a very important treaty at Maumee Bay, in Michigan, for a cession of all the lands owned by the Ottowa Indians in Ohio, about 50,000 acres. It was attended with more labour and greater difficulties than any other treaty made in this state: it was the last foothold which that savage, warlike, and hostile tribe held in their ancient dominion. The conditions of this treaty are very similar to those treaties of Lewistown and Wapaghkenetta, with this exception, that the surplus avails of their lands, after deducting seventy cents per acre to indemnify the government, are to be appropriated for paying the debts of their nation, which amount to about 20,000 dollars." [Query, what are those debts?—could they be the amount of presents made them on former occasions?] "The balance, if any, accrues to the tribe. Seventy thousand acres of land are granted to them west of the Mississippi.[3] The Ottowas are the most depredating, drunken, and ferocious in Ohio. The reservations ceded by them are very valuable, and those on the Miami of the lake embrace some of the best mill privileges in the State."
The Delawares were too few (being but fifty-one in number) to contend the matter, and therefore accepted of the proposed terms. At the conclusion of the conference, the Commissioners told them that they should have a barrel of flour, with the beef that had been killed for the occasion, which was received with "Yo-ha!—Yo-ha!" They then said, laughing, "that they hoped their father would allow them a little milk," meaning whisky, which was accordingly granted. They drank of this modern Lethé and forgot for a time their misfortunes.
On the Osage fork of the Merrimack river, there are two settlements of the Delawares, to the neighbourhood of which these Indians intend to remove.
Near the Delaware reserve, I fell in with a young Indian, apparently about twenty years of age, and we journeyed together for several miles through the forest. He spoke English fluently, and conformed as