Western characters, or, Types of border life in the western states
page: Illustration[View Page Illustration] page: (Illustration) [View Page (Illustration) ] page: 0 (TitlePage) [View Page 0 (TitlePage) ] WESTERN CHARACTERS OR TYPES OF BORDER LIFE IN THE WESTERN STATES BY J. L. McCONNEL AUTHOR OF "TALBOT AND VEBINONt--"THE GLINNHS," BT WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY DARLEY REDFIELD, 11O AND 112 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK 1853. page: 0[View Page 0] Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, BY J. S. REDFIELD, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, in and for the Southern District of New York. STEREOTYED BY C. C, SAVAGE, 13 Chamnhem Street, N. Y. PREFATORY NOTE, ATTEMPTS to delineate local character are always liable to misconstruction; for, the more truthful the sketch, the greater is the rumber of persons, to whom resemblance may be discovered; and thus, while in fact only describing the characteristics of a class, authors are frequently subjected, very unjustly, to the imputation of having invaded the privacy of in- dividuals. Particularly is this so, when the class is idealized, and an imaginary type is taken, as the representative of the species. I deem it proper, therefore, to say in advance, that no attempt has been made in the following pages, to portray any individual; and that-al- though I hope I have not been so unsuccessful, as to paint pictures which have no originals--if there be a portrait in any sketch, it consists, not in thl likeness of the picture to the person, but of both to the type. As originally projected, the book would have borne this explanation upon its face; but the cir. cumstances which have reduced its dimensions, and page: 4-5 (Table of Contents) [View Page 4-5 (Table of Contents) ] 4 ' PREFATORY NOTE. changed its plan, have also rendered necessary as disclaimer, which would, otherwise, have been su- perfluous. One or two of the sketches might have been made more complete had I been fortunate enough to meet with certain late publications, in time to use them, Such is the elaborate work of Mr. Schoolcraft upon Indian History and Character; and such, also, is that of Mr. Shea, upon the voyages and labors of Marquette--a book whose careful accuracy, clear style, and lucid statement, might have been of much service in writing the. sketch entitled "The Voya- geur." Unfortunately, however, I saw neither of these admirable publications, until my work had as- sumed its present shape--a fact which I regret as much for my reader's sake as my own. J. L. McO. July 1, 1853. . CONTENTS. IV VoyA........... oAN.................... .................. 162 TRHE RON ...1.,...........,.......,,.,. 106 IV. TiE RANCO ee e ... ee. e..........e.............. 167 V. HE REOULATO.'. . . . . . *. *. ... . VI TE JUSTIRE OF THE PEACE.......... ................. 246 VII. TIE PbDDaB.......................... ......... 268 Mm gig SO .................................. 288 IX. TaB Scaiooi[mTmBaS ,.,., ........... 819 quam PowinXNE.,. .. ... . i.............e... .... 840 page: 6-7[View Page 6-7] INTRODUCTORY. -"Our Misssippi, rolling proudly on, Would sweep them from its path, or swallow up, Like Aaron's rod, those streams of fame, and song." THE valley of a river like the chaannel of a nan's career, does not always bear proportion to the magnitude or volume of the current, which flows through it. Mountains, forests, deserts, physical barriers to the former-- and the obstacles of prejudice, and accidents of birth and education, moral barriers to the lat- ter'-limit, modify, and impair the usefulness of each. A river thus confined, an intellect thus hamrpered, may be noisy, fretfu tubu- lent,'bi in te contemplation, there oion the iever a i feeling of the incongruity between the purpose and the power; and it is only when the valley is extended, the field of effort open, that we can avoid the impression of energy wasted and strength frittered away. The great intellect, page: 8-9[View Page 8-9] o I NTRODUOTRTO whose scope is not confined by ancient land- marks, or old prejudices, is thus typified by the broad, deep river, whose branches penetrate the. Earth on every hand, and add to the current the tributaries of all climes. In this view, how noble an object is the Mississippi I In extent, fertility, variety of scenery, and diversity of climate, its valley surpasses any other in the world. It is the great aorta of the continent, and receives a score of tributary rivers, the' least of which is larger than the vaunted streams of mighty empires. It might furnish natural boundaries to all Europe, and yet leave, for every country, a river greater than the Seine. It discharges, in one year, more water than has issued from the Tiber in five centuries; 'it swallows up near fifty nameless rivers longer than 'the Thames; the addition of the waters of the Danube would not swell it half a fathom; and in a single bend, the navies of the world might safely ride at anchor, five hundred miles from sea. It washes the shores of twelve powerful states, and-between its arms lies space enough for twen- tyrmore. The rains which fall'upon the Allega- nies, and the snows that shroud the slopes and cap the summits of the Rocky mountains, are borne upon its bosom, to the regions of perpet- ImMODUMOror. 9 ual summer, and poured into the sea, more than fifteen hundred leagues from their sources. It has formed a -larger tract of land, by the de- posites of its inundations, than is contained in Great Britain and Ireland; and every year it roots up and bears away more trees, than there are in the Black Forest. At a speed unknown to any other great river, it rolls a volume, in whose depths the cathedral of St. Paul's might be sunk out of sight; and five hundred leagues from its mouth, it is wider than at thirty. It annually bears away more acres than it would require to make a German principality, engulfing more than the revenues of many a petty kingdom. Beneath its turbid waters lie argosies of wealth, and floating palaces, among whose gilded halls and rich saloons are sporting slimy creatures; below your very feet, as you sail along its current, are resting in its bed, half buried in the sand, the bodies of bold men and tender maidens; and their imploring hands are raised toward Heaven, and the world which floats, unheeding, on the surface. There lies, entombed, the son whose mother knows not of his death; and there the husband, for whose footstep, even yet, the wife is listening--here, the mother with her infant still clasped fondly to her breast; and here, united in their lives, 1* page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] 10 1NTEODCTORT. not separated in their death, lie, side by side, the bride and bridegroom of a day;-and, hiding the dread secrets from all human ken, the mighty and remorseless-river passes on- ward, like the stream of human life, toward "the land of dreamb and shadows 1" To the contemplative mind, there is, perhaps, no part of 'the creation, in which may not be found the seed of much reflection; but of all the grand features of the earth's surface, next to a lofty mountain, that which impresses us most deeply is a great river. Its pauseless flow, the stern momentum of its current -its remorseless coldness to all human hopes and fears--the se- crets which lie buried underneath its waters, and the myriad purposes of those it bears upon its bosom- are all so clearly typical of Time. The waters will not pause, though dreadful bat- tles may be fought upon their shores- as Time will steadily march forward, though the fate of nations hang upon the conflict. The mo- ments fly as swiftly, while a mighty king is breathing out his life, as if he were a lowly peasant; and the current flows as coldly on, while men are struggling in the eddies, as if each drowning wretch were but a floating weed. Time gives no warning of the hidden dangers of which haughty conquerors are rushing, as INTRODUTTORE. " the perils of the waters are revealed but in the crashing of the wreck. But the, parallel does not stop here. The sources of the Mississippi-were it even possi- ble that they should ever be otherwise-are still unknown to man. Like the stream of his- tory, its head-springs are in the regions of fable -in the twilight of remote latitudes; and it is only after it has approached us, and assumed a definite channel, that we are able to determine which is the authentic stream. It flows from the country of the savage, toward that of civi- lization; and like the gradations of improve- ment among men, are the thickening fields and growing cultivation, which define the periods of its course. Near its mouth, it has reached the culmination of refinement-its last ripe fruit, a crowded city; and, beyond this, there lies nothing but a brief journey, and a plunge into the gulf of Eternity! Thus, an emblem of the stream of history, it is still more like a march along the highway of a single human life. As the sinless thoughts of smiling childhood are the little rivulets, which afterward become the mighty river; like the infant, airy, volatile, and beautiful- sparkling as the dimpled face of innocence- a faithful reflex of the lights and shadows of page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] 12 INTRTODUOTOCT. existence; and revealing, through the limpid wave, the golden sands which lie beneath. Anon, the errant channels are united in one current--life assumes a purpose, a direction- but the waters are yet pure, and mirror on their face the thousand forms and flashing colors of Creation's beauty-as happy boyhood, rapidly perceptive of all loveliness, gives forth, in radi- ant smiles, the glad impressions of unfaded youth. Yet sorrow cometh even to the happiest. Misfortune is as stern a leveller as Death; and early youth, with all its noble aspirations, gor- geous visions, never to be realized, must often plunge, like the placid river over a foaming cataract, down the precipice of affliction -even while its current, though nearing the abyss, flow softly as " the waters of Shiloah." It may be the death of a mother, whom the bereaved half deemed immortal-some disappointment, like the falsehood of one dearly loved-some rude shock, as the discovery of a day-dream's hollowness; happy, thrice happy t if it be but ' one of these, and not the descent from inno. cence to sin! But life rolls on, as does the river, though its wave no longer flows in placid beauty, nor re- veals the hidden things beneath. The ripples INTRODUOTOBY. 13 . are now whirling eddies, and a hundred angry currents chafe along the rocks, as thought and feeling fret against, the world, and waste their strength in vain repining or impatient irrita-t tion. Tranquillity returns no .more; and though the waters seem not turbid, there is -a shadow in their depths-their transparency is lost. Tributaries, great and small, flow in-acces- sions of experience to the man, of weight and volume to the river; and, with force augment- ed, each rolls on its current toward the ocean. A character, a purpose, is imparted to the life, as to the stream, and usefulness becomes an element' of being. The river is a chain which links remotest latitudes, as through the social man relations are established, binding alien hearts: the spark of thought and feeling, like the fluid of the magnet, brings together distant moral zones. On it rushes--through the rapids, where the life receives an impulse-driven forward- haply downward-among rocks and danger- ous channels, by the motives of ambition, by the fierce desire of wealth, or by the goad of wantl But soon the mad career abates, for the first effect of haste is agitation, and the master-spell of power is calmness. Happy-are page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] " INTRODUCTORY. they, who learn this lesson early-for, thence, 'the current onward flows, a tranquil, noiseless, but resistless, tide. Manhood, steady and ma- ture, with its resolute but quiet thoughts, its deep, unwavering purposes, and, more than all, its firm, profound affections, is passing thus be- tween the shores of Time-not only working for itself a channel broad and clear, but bear- ling on its bosom, toward Eternity, uncounted wealth of hopes. But in the middle of its course, its character is, wholly changed; a flood pours in, whose waters hold, suspended, all impurities. A struggle, brief .but turbulent, ensues: the lim- pid wave of youth is swallowed up. Some great success has been achieved; unholy pas- sions are evoked-, and will not be allayed; thenceforward there is no relenting; and, though the world-nay! Heaven itself!- pour in, along its course, broad tributaries of reclaiming purity, the cloud upon the waters can never be dispelled. The marl and dross of Earth, impalpable, but visibly corrupting, pervade she very nature; and only when the current ceases, will its primitive transparency return. Still it hurries onward, with velocity aug- mented, as it nears its term. Yet its breadth INTRODUTORY. 15 is. not increased; the earth suspended in its waters, like the turbid passions of the human soul, prevents expansion ;* for, in man's career through time, the heart grows wider only in the pure. Along the base of cliffs and highlands- through the deep alluvions of countless ages- among stately forests and across extended plains, it flows without cessation. Beyond full man- hood, character may change no more-as, be- low its mighty tributaries, the river is unaltered. Its full development is reached-among rich plan- tations, waving fields, and swarming cities; while, but the journey of a day beyond, it rushes into Eternity, leaving a melancholy rec- ord, as it mingles with the waters of the great gulf, even upon the face of Oblivion. --Within the valley of this river, time will see a population of two hundred millions; and here will be the seat of the most colossal power Earth has yet contained., The heterogeneous character of the people is of no consequence: still less, the storms of dissension, which now and then arise, to affright the timid and faith- less. The waters of all latitudes could not be blended in one element, and purified, without * "Were it a clear stream, it would soon scoop itself out a fhannel from bluff to bluff."---7nt's Geography, p. 103. page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] 16 INTRODUCTOr. the tempests and cross-currents, which lash the ocean into fury. Nor would a stagnant calm- ness, blind attachment to the limited horizon of a homestead, or the absence of all irritation or attrition, ever make one people of the emi- igrants from every clime. And, when this nation shall have become thoroughly - homogeneous- -when the world shall recognise the race, and, above this, the power of the race - will there be no interest in tracing-through the mists of many generations, the outlines of that foundation on which is built the mighty fabric? Even the infirmities and vices of the men who piled the first stones of great empires, are chronicled in history as facts deserving record. 'The portrait of an an- cient hero is a treasure beyond value, even though the features be but conjectural.. How much more precious would be a faithful por- trait of his character, in which the features should be his salient traits-the expression, outline, and complexion of his nature! To furnish a series of such portraits-em- bracing a few of the earlier characters, whose "mark" is traceable in the growing civilization of the West and South-is the design of the present work. The reader will observe that its INTRODICTORY. 17 logic is not the selection of actual, but of ideal, individuals, each representing a class; and that, although it is arranged chronologically, the pe- riods are not historical, but characteristic. The design, then, is double; first, to select a class, which indicates a certain stage of social or pol- itical advancement; and, 8econd, to present a picture of an imaginary individual, who com- bines the prominent traits, belonging to the class thus chosen. The series halts, beyond the Rubicon of con- temporaneous portraiture, for very obvious rea- sons; but there are still in existence abundant means of verifying, or correcting, every sketch. I have endeavored to give the consciousness of this fact its full weight-to resist the tempta- tion (which, I must admit, was sometimes strong) to touch the borders of satire; and, in conclusion, I can only hope that these wishes, with an earnest effort at fidelity, have enabled me to present truthful pictures. page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] I / 1 THE INDIANN. aIn the same beaten channel still have ran The blessed streams of human sympathy; And, though I know this ever hath been done, The why and wherefore, I could never see l" PBnBXz CaBT. IN a work which professes to trace, even in. distinctly, the reclamation of a country from a state of barbarism, some notice of that from which it was reclaimed is, of course, necessary; and an attempt to distinguish the successive periods, each by its representative character, determines the logic of such notice. Were we as well acquainted with the gradations of In- dian advancement-for such unquestionably, there were-as we are with those of the civil- ized man, we should be able to distinguish eras and periods, so as to represent them, each by its separate ideal. But civilization and barbola ism are comparative terms; and, though it is page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] 20 WESTERN A ATOTETARA ,. difficult, perhaps impossible, precisely to fix the point at which one ceases and the other begins, yet, within that limit, we must consider barbar- ism as one period. Of this period, in our plan, the Indian, without reference to distinction of tribe, or variation in degree of advancement, is the representative. As all triangles agree in certain properties, though widely different in others, so all Indians are alike in certain charac- teristics, though differing, almost radically, each from every other: But, as the points of coinci- dence in triangles are those which determine the class, and the differences only indicate sub- species, so the similar characteristics in the Indian, are those which distinguish the species, and the variations of character are, at most,- only tribal limits. An Indian who should com- bine all the equivalent traits, without any of the inequalities, would, therefore, be the pure ideal of his race. - And his composition should include the evil as well as the good; for a por- trait of the savage, which should represent him as only generous and brave, would be as far from a complete ideal, as one which should display only his cruelty and cunning. My object in this article is, therefore, to com- bine as many as possible--or as many as are necessary-- of the general characteristics of the a TE ,INDIA.. 21 Indian, both good and bad- so as to give a fair view of the character, according to the principle. intimated above. And I may, per- haps without impropriety, here state, that this may be taken as the key to all the sketches which are to follow. It is quite probable that many examples of each class treated, might be found, who are exceptions to the rules stated, in almost every particular; and it is possible, that no one, of any class treated, com- bined all the characteristics elaborated. Ex- cepting when historical facts are related, or well- authenticated legends worked in, my object is not to give portraits of individuals, however prominent. As was hinted above-the logic of the book points only to the ideal of each class. And this view of the subject excludes all those discussions, which have so long puzzled philosophers, about the origin of the race - our business is with the question What is he.? rather than with the inquiry, Whence did he come. The shortest argument, however---and, if the assumption be admitted, the most conclusive - is that, which assumes the literal truth of the Mosaic account of the creation of man; for from this it directly follows, that the aboriginal page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] 123 ^3w'wjcRWN E0HA1RAOTERS, races are descendants of Asiatic emigrants; and the minor questions, as to the route they fol- lowed - whether across the Pacific, or by Behr- ing's strait-are merely subjects of curious speculation, or still more curious research. And this hypothesis is quite consistent with the evi- dence drawn from Indian languages, customs, ant physical developments. Even the argu- ments against the theory, drawn from differ- ences in these particulars among the tribes, lose their force,.when we come to consider that the same, if not wider differences, are found among other races, indisputably of a single stock. These things may be satisfactorily ac- counted for, by the same circumstances in the one case, as in the other- by political and local situation, by climate, and unequal prog- ress. Thus, the Indian languages, says Pres- cott, in his "Conquest of Mexico," "present the strange anomaly of differing as widely in etymology, as they agree in organization ;" but a key to the solution of the problem, is found in. the latter part of the same sentence: " and, on the other hand;" he continues,* "while they bear some slight affinity to the languages of the Old World, in the former particular, they have no resemblance to them whatever, in the Vol.. H., page 894 THE IDIAT. 23 latter." This is as much as if he had said, that the incidents to the lives of American Indians, are totally different to those of the nations of the Old World: and .these incidents are pre- cisely the circumstances, which are likely to affect organization, more than etymology. And the difficulty growing out of their differences among themselves, in the latter, is surmounted by the fact, that there is a sufficient general re- semblance among them all, to found a compari- son with "the languages of the Old World." I believe, a parallel course of argument would clear away all other objections to the theory.* But, as has been said, the scope of our work includes none of these discussions; and we shall, therefore, pass to the Indian character, abstracted from all antecedents. That this has been, and is, much misunderstood, is the first thought which occurs to one who has an oppor- * There is, however, little necessity for any argument on the subject: For, leaving out of the question the highest anc most sacred of authorities, almost all respectable writers upon ethnology, including Buffon, Volney, Humboldt, &c., agree in assigning a common origin to all nations,- though the last deduces from many particulars, the conclusion that the Amer- ican Indian was "isolated in the infancy of the world, from the rest of mnnkind."- Ancient Inhabitants of America, vol i, p. 250. \ page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] 24 w arTEN COAAOTES tunity personally to observe the savage. X Noris it justly a matter of surprise. The native of this continent has been the subject of curious and unsatisfactory speculation, since the discovery of the country by Columbus: by the very want of those things, which constitute the, attraction of other nations,he became at once, and has continued, the object of a mysterious interest. The absence of dates and facts, to mark the course of his migration, remits us to conjecture, or the scarcely more reliable resource of tradi- tion-the want of history has made him a character of romance. The mere name of In- dian gives the impression of a shadowy image, looming, dim but gigantic, through a darkness which nothing else can penetrate. This mys- tery not only interests, but also disarms, the mind; and we are apt to see, in the character, around which it hovers, only those qualities which give depth to the attraction. The crea- tions of poetry and romance are usually ex- tremes; and they are, perhaps, necessarily so, when the nature of the subject furnishes no standard, by which to temper the conception. "The efforts of a poet's -imagination are, more or less, under the control of his opinions:" but opinions of men are founded upon their history; and there is, properly, no historical Indian c: THE OINBIAS. 25 character. The consequence has been, that poets and novelists have constructed their sav- age personages according to a hypothetical standard, of either the virtues or vices, belong- ing, potentially, to the savage state. The same rule, applied to portraiture of civilized men, would at once be declared false and perni- cious; and the only reason why it is not equally so, in its application to the Indian, is, because the separation between him and us is so broad, that our conceptions of his character can exert little or no influence upon our intercourse with mankind. Sympathy for what are called the Indians misfortunes has, also, induced the class of wri- ters, from whom, almost exclusively, our notions of his character are derived, to represent him inv-his most genial phases, and even to palliate his most ferocious acts, by reference to the in- justice and oppression, of which he has been the victim. If we were to receive the author- ity of these writers, we should conclude that the native was not a savage, at all, until the landing of the whites; and, instead of ascribing his atrocities to the state of barbarism in which he lived-thus indicating their only valid apology-wq should degrade both the white. and the red men, by attributing to the former -] 2 page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] 26 WESTER CHl ARATERS. all imaginable vices, and, to the latter, a pecu- liar aptitude in acquiring them. These mis- fakes are natural and excusable -- as the man who kills another in self-defence is justifiable; bult the Indian character is not the less miscon- ceived, just as the man slain is- not less dead, than if malice had existed in both cases. To praise one above his merits, is as fatal to his consideration, as decidedly to disparage him. In either case, however, there is a chance that S just opinion may be formed; but, when both Extremes are asserted with equal confidence, the mind is confused, and can settle upon noth- ing. The latter is precisely the condition of the Indian; and it is with a view of correcting such impressions, that this article is written. The American Indian, then, is the ideal of a savage-no more, no less: and I call him the ideal, because he displays all' those qualities, which the history of the human race authorizes us to infer, as the characteristics of an unen- lightened people, for many ages isolated from the rest of mankind * He differs, in many * It will be observed, that I assume the unity of the Indian race; and I am not sufficiently acquainted with the recent discussions on the subject, to be certain whether the question is still considered open. But the striWng analogies between -T I IM particulars, from the other barbarians of the world; lbut the broadest distinction lies in this completeness of his savage character. The pe- culiarities of the country in which their lives assume their, direction, its climate, isolation, or connection with the world-all these things con- tribute to modify the aspects presented by native races. In such points as are liable to modifica- tion by these causes, the American differs from every other savage; and without entering into an elaborate comparison of circumstances - for which we have neither the material, the incli- nation, nor the space - it may be proper briefly to consider one of these causes, and endeavor to trace its effects in the Indian's moral physi- ognomy. The state of this continent, when the first Asiatic wanderers landed upon its shores, was, of course, that of a vast, unbroken solitude and the contemplation of its almost boundless extent and profound loneliness, was certainly the first, and probably the most powerful agen- cy, at work in modifying their original charac- ter. What the primary effects of this cause the customs, physical formation, and languages of all the vari- ous -divisions, (except the Esquimaux, who are excluded), I hinkl authorize the assumption. '-;i, page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] 28 Tr;l'WllS'.N CAATERS.- were likely to be, we may observe in the white emigrants, who have sought a home among the forests and upon the plains of the west: what- ever, they may have been before their migra- tion, they: soon become meditative, abstracted, and taciturn. These, and-especially the last,. are the peculiar characteristics of the Indian; his. taciturnity, indeed, amounts to austerity, sometimes impressing the observer with the idea of affectation. The dispersion, which must have been-the effect of unlimited choice in lands--the mode of life pursued by those who depended upon the chase for subsistence -the gradual estrangement produced among the sepa- rate tribes, by the-necessity of wide hunting- grounds - the vast expanse of territory at com- n and - causes operating so long, gas to produce a fixed and corresponding nature--are the sources, to which we may trace almost all the Indian's distinctive traits., "Isolation," Carlyle says, "is the sum total of wretchedness -to man ;" and, doubtless, the idea which he means to convey is just. "But," in the words of De Quincey, "no man can be truly great, without at least chequering his life with solitude." Separation from his kind, of course, deprives a man of the humanizing influ. ences, which are the consequences of a6socia- o TBEEE I NDIAUN. 29 tion; but it may, at the same time, strengthen some of the noblest qualities of human nature. Thus, we are authorized to ascribe to this agen- cy, a portion of the Indian's fortitude under hardships and suffering, his contempt for mere meanness, and abdove all, the proud elevation of his character. The standards of comparison, which were furnished by his experience, were few, and, of co urse, derived from the. ideas of barbarians; but all such as were in any wray modified by the solitude of his existence, were rendered impressive, solemn, and exalted. In the vast solitudes of Asia, whence thfe In- -dian races migrated to this continent, so far as the loneliness of savage deserts and endless plains might exert an influence, we should ex- pect to find the same general character. But the Asians are almost universally pastoral-- the Americans never; the wildest tribes of Tartary possess numerous useful domesticated animals -the Americans, even in Mexico,* had none; the Tartars are acquainted with the use of milk, and have been so from time im- memorial-the Indian, even at this day, has adopted it only 'n a few localities, among the more enlightened tribes. The migration of the latter either took place at a period before even * Conquest of Mexico, vol. iii., p. 416, page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] VA0 WFSTERN ACHARAOTERS. his Asiatic father had discovered its use, or the accidents which brought him to this continent, -were such as to preclude importing domestti- cated animals; and the lapse of a few genera- tions was sufficient to obliterate even the recollection of such knowledge. "i And," says Prescott,* " he might well doubt, whether the wild, uncouth monsters, whom he occasionally saw bounding with such fury over the distant plains, were capable of domestication, like the meek animals which he had left grazing in the green pastures' of Asia." To this leading dis- tinction-the adoption and neglect of pastoral habits-may be referred most of the diversi- ties among races, unquestionably of one stock. Reasoning from the effects upon human char- acter, produced by the face of different coun- tries, we might expect to find, in the Indian, among other things, a strong tendency toward poetical thought, embodied, not in the mode of expression usually denominated poetry, but iv the style of his addresses, the peculiarities of hir theories, or the construction of his mythology, language, and laws. This expectation is totals ly disappointed; but when we examine the degree and character of his advanoetme, and C-onqeqat of Mexico, vol. ipi., p 41.-- f:., THE NDI N 31 recollect a few of the circumstances, among which the poetry looked for would be obliged to grow, our disappointment loses its element of surprise. The contemplation of Nature in her primitive, terrible, and beautifiul forms- the habit of meditation, almost the necessary consequence of solitude-the strange, wild enchantment of an adventurous life-have failed to develop in the Indian, any but selfish and sensual ideas. Written poetry was, of course, not to be expected, even from the in- digenous civilization of Mexico and Peru; yet we might, with some ground for hope, seek occasional traces of poetical thought and feel- ing. We look in vain for any such thing. "Extremes meet," says one of the wisest of adages; and the saying was never more singu- larly and profoundly vindicated, than in its application to civilization and barbarism. The savage rejects all that does not directly gratify his selfish wants--the highly-civilized man is, in like manner, governed b the principle of zitity; and, by both, the m rely fanciful rmnd imaginative is undervalued. Thus, as Mr. Macaulay* ingeniously says, "A great poem, in a highly-polished state of society, is the most wonderful and splendid proof of genius." * Essays-Art. 'Milton.' page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] 32 WESTERN CHARACTERS. But, for the same reasons, the savage, who should: display any remarkably poetical feeling or tone of thought, would -be quite as great a prodigy. Poetry flourishes most luxuriantly midway between the two extremes. Its essence is the contemplation of great passions and ac- tions--of love, revenge, ambition. Imagina- tion is then vivified by the means of expression or articulation; and, in the half-civilized state, neither a refined public sentiment, nor the other extreme of barbarous isolation, restrains the exhibition of great (and poeticaD emotions. The best of Hazlitt's numerous definitions of poetry, determines it to be "the excess of imagination, beyond the actual or ordinary im- pression of any object or feeling."* But the Indian was destitute of all imagination; appa- rently, the composition of his nature included no such element; and, certainly, the rude exi- gencies of his life did not' admit its action. Even the purity of his mythology, compared to that of the Greeks and Romans,t has been (by Lord Lindsay) attributed to this want - though, if such were its only effects, it might very well be supplied. * Lectures or English Poets, p. 4. t No very high compliment, but as high as it deserves. We shall see anon. TE: NDIAS. 33 The Indian has no humor, Hno romance- how could he possess poetical feeling The gratification of sensual wants is the end of his life - too often, laterally the end I "He con- siders everything beneath his notice, which is not necessary to his advantage or enjoyment." To him a jest is as unmeaning as the babbling of a brook; his wife is a beast of burden ; and even his courting is carried on by gifts of good things to eat, sent to the parents. Heaven is merely a hunting-ground; his language has no words to express abstract qualities, virtues, vices, or sen- timents.: His idea of the Great Spirit, and the word which expresses it, may be applied with equal' propriety to a formidable (though not beneficent)' animal; indeed, the Indian words -which we translate "spirit," mean only superi- or power, without the qualification of good or evil. He has not even the ordinary inhabitive instinct of the human race; his attachment to any region of country depends upon its capacity to furnish game, ahd the fading of -the former keeps pace with the disappearance of the latter. "Attachment to the graves of his fathers," is an agreeable fiction --unfortunately, only a fich- * Warburton's Conquest of Canada, vol. i., p. 177. + Bancroft's United States, vol. iii., p. 26.. $ Hunter's Memoirs, p. 236. Western Annals, p. 712. 2* page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] 3: -WESTESN OHAAOCTERS." -tion.* He has aways been nomadic, without the pastoral habits which the word supposes: a mere wandering savage, without purpose or i -motive, beyond the gratification -of the tempo- rary want, whim, or passion, and void of evzery- thing deservink the name of sentiment. An extravagant, and, I am sorry to say, ground- less, notion has obtained currency, among al- most all writers upon the Indian character, that he is distinguished for his .eloquence. But the same authors tell us, that his language, the ve- hicle of the supposed eloquence, can express on- ly material ideas t Now, if we knew no more of his character than this, we should be author- ized to infer (what is, indeed, true), that he pos- sesses no standard for the distinction of good and evil, and that his imagination is bounded by the lines of his sensible experience. How any degree of eloquence can be compatible with this state of things, passes comprehension, And what reflection would conclude, a little examination will confirm. The mistake has, doubtless, grown out of a misconception of the *Flint's Geography, p. 108,' "All ideaa are expressed by flgures addressed to the easenae Warburton, vol. i., p. 175, Bancroft, ut supra THE INDIAN. 85 nature of eloquence itself.* If eloquence were all jigure-- even if it were, in any considerable degree, 'mer'e figure-- then the tawdriest rhet- orician would be the greatest orator. But it is not so. On the- contrary, the use of many words (or figures) to express an idea, denotes not command of language, but the absence of that power - just as the employment of numer- ous tools, to effect a physical object, indicates, not skill in the branch of physics, to which the object belongs, but rather awkwardness. Of course, much must be placed, in both cases, to the account of clumsy instruments; but the instrument of speech differs from others in this: it is fashioned by, as well as for, its use; and a rude, unpolished language is, therefore, an in- dex, in two ways, of the want of eloquence among the people who employ it. In this view, the figurative elocution of the In- dian, so far from affording evidence of oratori- cal power, if it proves anything, proves the op- posite. It is the barrenness of his language, and not the luxuriance of his imagination, which enforces that mode of speech t Imagi- * See Bancroft Hunter, Catlin, Flint, Jefferson, &a.-paesim -all supporters of Indian eloquence, but all informing us, that "combinations of material objects were his only /means of ex- pressing abstract ideas." f Vide Bancroft's United States, vol. iii., pp. 257, 266, eta page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] 36 wiEWESTWIU CHARACTERS. nation is the first element of oratory, simplicity its first condition. We have seen that the In- dian is wholly destitute of the former; and the stilted, meretricious, and ornate style, of even his ordinary communications, entirely excludes the latter from our conception of his character.* For example: take the, expressions "bury. the hatchet," for "make peace," and "a cloud- less sky," for "prosperity"- the latter being the nearest approximation to an abstract idea observed in Indian oratory. Upon examining these, and kindred forms of speech, we shall at once perceive that they are not the result of imagination, but are suggested by material analogies. Peace, to the savage, is, at best, but a negative idea; and the state of peaceful- ness, abstracted from the absence of war, finds no corresponding word in his language. Even friendship only means that relation, in which friends may be of use to each other. As his dialects are all synthetic,t his ideas are all con- * G G. "They style themselves the 'beloved of the Great Spirit."'-Warburton, vol. i., p. 186. "In the Iroquois lan- guage, the Indians gave themselves the appellation of 'Angou- conoue, or 'Men of Always.' "-Chateaubriand's Travels in America, vol. ii., p. 92. Note, also, their exaggerated boast- fulness, even in their best'speeches: "Logan never knew fear," &a. f "The absence of all reflective consciousness, and of all THE INDMA. 87 crete. To say, "I love," without expressing what or whom I love, would be, so to speak, very bad Indian grammar. He can not even say " two" correctly, without applying the nu- meral to some object. The notion of absolute being, number, emotion, feeling, posture, or re- lation, is utterly foreign to his mode of thought and speech. So, also, of the "cloudless sky," used to ex- press a state of prosperity. He does not mean, by the phrase, the serenity of mind which pros- perity produces, nor any other abstract inflexion or suggestion of the figure. He is constantly ex- posed to the storms of heaven, in the chase, and on the war path; and, even in his best "lodge," he finds but little shelter fron their fury. Clear weather is, therefore, grateful to him-bright sunshine associates itself, in his mind, with com- fort, or (that supremest of Indian pleasures) undisturbed indolence. And the transition, though, as we have said, an approach to an abstract conception, is easy, even to the mind of a savage. His employment of such illustra- tions is rather an evidence of rudeness, than of eloquence-of barrenness, than of luxuriance of idea.* logical analysis of ideas, is the great peculiarity of American speech."--Bancroft, vol. iii., p. 257. * Warburtons Conquest of Canada, vol. i., p. 180. page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] 38 WESTERN CHARACTERS. From these considerations, it results, that even the very best specimens of Indian ora- tory, deserve the name of picturesque, rather than of eloquent--two characteristics which bear no greater affinity to each other, than do the picture-writing of the Aztec and the alpha- betical system of the Greek. The speech of Logan-the most celebrated of Indian har- angues - even if genuine,* is but a feeble sup- port to the theory of savage eloquence. It is a mixture of the lament and the song of tri- umph, which may be found in equal perfection among all barbarous people; but, so far as we are aware, was never elsewhere dignified with that sounding name. The slander of a brave and honorable man,t which it 'contains, might * I have seen it hinted, though I have forgotten where, that Jefferson, and not Logan, was the author of this speech; but the extravagant manner in which Jefferson himself praises it, seems to exclude the suspicion. "I may challenge the whole orations of Demosthenes and Cicero," he says, " and of any other more eminent orator, if Europe has furnished more eminent, to pro- duce a single passage superior to the speech of Logan!"Praise certainly quite high enough, for a mixture of lamentation and boastfulness. t The evidence in this matter has long ago been thoroughly sifted; and it is now certain that, so far from being present aid- ing at the massacre of Logan'samily, Colonel Cresap earnestly endeavored to dissuade the party from its purpose. And yet the falsehood is perpetuated even in the dommon school-books of THE: TNDIAN. . N39 be the result of a mistake easily made; the wrongs of which this chief was the victim, might render even a savage eloquent; and the mixture of bloody vaunting with profound grief, is scarcely to be expected in any but a savage. "Logan never knew fear," he says; "he would not turn on his heel to save his life." This species of boasting is perfectly in keeping with the Indian character; but the pathetic reason for this carelessness, which follows--"There is no one to mourn for Lo- gan" -- is one not likely to have occurred to an Indian, even in his circumstances. And, grant- ing that the expression was used by the orator, and not (as it seems probable it was) added by Jefferson, it is, I believe, the only example on record of poetical feeling in any Indian speech. The religion of the Indian has given as much troublesome material to the builders of sys- tems,- as has been furnished by all his other characteristics combined. The first explorers of America supposed that they had found a people, quite destitute of any religious belief. But faith in a higher power than that of man, the country, while its object has been mouldering in his grave for a quarter of a century.-Western Annals, p. 147. Ameri can Pioneer, vol. i, p. 7, ei seq. page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 40 WESTERN CHARCTESI. is a necessity of the human mind; and its or- ganization, more or less enlightened, is as natu- ral, even to the most degraded savage, as the formation of his language. Both depend upon general laws, common to the intellect of all races of men; both are affected by the external circumstances of climate, situation, and mode of life; and the state of one may always be de- termined by that of the other. "No savage horde has been caught with its language in a state of, chaos, or as if just emerging from -the rudeness of undistinguishable sounds. Each appears, not as a slow formation by painful pro- cesses of invention, but as a perfect whole, springing directly from the powers of man."* And though this rigor of expression is not- equally applicable to the Indian's religion, the fact is attributable solely to the difference in nature of the subjects. As the "primary sounds of a language are essentially the same every- where," the impulses and instincts of piety are common to all minds. But, as the written lan- guage of the Indian was but the pictorial repre- sentation of visible objects, having no metaphys- ical signification, so the symbols of his religion, the objects of his adoration, were drawn from a?. * Bancroft, vol. iii., p. 264. TE mI NDAN. 41 external nature.* Even his faith in the Great Spirit is a graft upon his system,- derived from the first missionaries ;t and, eagerly as he adopt- ed it, it is probable that its meaning, to him, is lit. tle more exalted, than, that of the "Great Bea- ver," which he believes to be the first progenitor, if not the actual creator, of that useful animal. We often see the fact, that the Indian be- lieves in his manitou, cited as an evidence, that he/haas the conception of a spiritual divin- ity. it' the word never conveyed such a meaning; it is applicable more properly to ma- terial objects, and answers, with, if possible, a more intense and superstitious significance, to the term amulet.' The Indiai's manitou might be, indeed always was, some wild animal, or some part of a beast or bird--such as a bear's claw, a buffalo's hoof, or a dog's tooth.4 And, though he ascribed exalted powers to this primi- tive guardian, it must be remembered that * Bancroft, vol. iii., p. 285.-"The God of the savage was what the metaphysician endeavors to express by the word substance." But the Indian's ide'a of substance was altogether concrete. t The best authority upon this subject is found in the Jesuit "Relaciones :" but it is at least probable, that the preconcep. tions of the good Fathers colored, and, perhaps, shaped, many of the religious wonders there related. i "Lettres Edifiantes," vol.,vi., p. 200, et seq. Warburton, vol. i., p. 187. page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] 42 ^\I 'I' CQEB* HA2BACTERS. these powers were only physical - such, for ex- ample, as would enable it to protect its devotee from the knife of his enemy, or give him suc- cess in hunting. Materialism, then, reigns in the religion, as in the language, of the Indian; and its effects are what might be expected. His whole system is a degraded and degrading superstition; and, though it has been praised for its superior purity, over that of the ancients, it seems to have been forgotten, that this purity is only the absence of one kind of impurity:, and that its cruel and corrupting influences, of another sort, are ten-fold greater than those of the Greek mythology. The faith of the Greek embodied itself in forms, ceremonies, and observances - regularly appointed religious rites kept his piety alive; the erection of grand temples, in honor of his deity, whatever might be his conception of that deity's character, attested his genuine devotion, and held constantly before his mind the abstract idea of a higher power. The In- dian, before the coming of the white man, erect- ed no temples* in honor of his divinities; for he * The extravagant stories told of the Natchez Indians (among whom there was said td be a remarkable temple for worship) are quite incredible, even if they had not been disproved. * , I THE INDEAX. 4A venerated them only so long as they conferred physical benefits* upon him; and his idea of beneficence was wholly concrete. He had- no established form of worship; the ceremonies, which partook of a religious character, were grotesque in their conception, variable in their conduct, and inhuman in their details. Such, for example, are the torturing of prisoners, and the ceremonies observed on the occasion of a young Indian's placing himself under his guar- dian power. The dogmas of the Indian religion, until vari- ed by the teaching of missionaries, were few and simple--being circumscribed, like. every- thing else belonging to him, by the material world. He believed in a good spirit, and an evil spirit; but his conception was limited by the ideas of benefit or injury, to himself/ in- deed, it may safely be doubted, whether the word "spirit," in its legitimate sense, is at all applicable to his belief. "Power in a state of exertion," is the more accurate description of * When the manitou of the Indian has failed to give him success in the chase, or protection from danger, " he upbraids it with bitterness and contempt, and threatens to seek a more effectual protector. If, the manitou continues useless, this threat is fulfilled." Warb. ut supra. Vide, also, Cathn'e "American Indians," vol. i., p. 86, et-seq. page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] " . WESTERN CHARAmTERS. his imperfect notion: abstract existence he never conceived; the verb "to be," except as relating to time, place, and action, had no meaning in his language.* He believed, also, in subordinate powers of good and evil; but, since his life was occupied more in averting danger and calamity,. than in seeking safety or happiness, he paid far more respect to the latter than to the former'-he prayed oftener and more fervently to the devils, than to the angels. His clearest notion of divinity, was that of a being able to injure him; and, in this sense, his devotion might be given to man, bird, or beast. There seems to be no doubt, that he believed in a sort of immortality, even before the mis- sionaries visited his country. -But it was not so much a new state of existence, as a continuation of present life t He killed horses upon the grave of the departed warrior, that he might be mounted for his long journey; and buffalo meat and roasted maize were buried with him, * Bancroft, vol? iii., p. 258. - "He calls it [the soul] the shadbw or image of his body, but its acts and enjoyments are all the same as those of its earthly existence. He only pictures to himself a continuation of pres- ent pleasures." Warb. vol. i., p. 190. Vide, also, Catlin's "Amer. ican Indians," vol. i, i. 168, et seq. THE INDIAN 45 that he might not suffer from hunger.* On arriving in'the land of the blest, he believed, that the dead pursued the game of that country, as he had done in this'; and the highest felicity of which he conceived, was the liberty to hunt unmolested by the war-parties of his enemies. Heaven was, therefore, in his conception, only a more genial earth, and its inheritors but keen- er sportsmen. That this idea of immortality involved that of accountability, in some form, seems to admit of no doubt; but this doctrine, like almost all others belonging to the -primitive savage, has been moulded to its present definite shape, by the long-continued labors of Christian mission- aries t He believed, indeed, that the bad In- dians never reached the happy hunting-grounds, but the distinction between the good and the bad, in his mind, was not at' all clear; and, since the idea of the passage across the gulf of * The Indian never believed in the resurrection of the body; but even corn and venison were supposed to possess a spirit4 which the spirit of the dead warrior might eat.--Jesuit "Rela- cion," 1683, p. 54. t "The idea of retribution," says Bancroft, vol. iii., p. 299, " as far as it has found its way among them, was derived from Europeans." And the same remark may be made, of nimost of the other wonders, in which enthusiastic travellers have dio. covered coincidences with Christianity. s * i page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] " WES1tit'.S CIABACTERS. death most prevalent among all tribes, is that of a narrow bridge, over which only steady nerves and sure feet may carry the wanderer, it seems probable that the line was drawn be- tween the brave warrior and the successful hun- ter, on the one hand, and the coward and the unskilful, on the other. If these views be cor- rect, the inferences to be drawn from the In- dian's belief in immortality and accountability, are of but slender significance. Corrupt manners and degrading customs nev- er exist, in conjunction with a pure religious system. The outlines of social institutions are metaphysically coincident with the limits of piety; and the refinement of morals depends upon the purity of faith. We may thus deter- mine the prevailing spirit of a national religion, by observation of domestic manners and habits ; and, among all the relations of life, that of parent and child is the best index to degree of advance- ment. Filial piety is but the secondary mani- festation of a devotional heart; and attachment and obedience to a father on earth, are only im- perfect demonstrations of love to our Father in heaven. What, then-to apply the principle -is the state of this sentiment in the Indian By the answer to that question, we shall be able THE CTDIA^. 4:7 to estimate the value of his religious notions, and to determine the amount of hope, fo r his conversion, justified by their possession. The, answer may be given in a few words: There is no such sentiment in the Indian character. Children leave their infirm parents to die alone, and be eaten by the wolves ; or treat them with violent indignity,t when -the necessity of migration gives no occasion for this barbar- ous desertion. Young savages have been known to beat their parents, and even to kill them; but the display of attachment or reverence for them, is quite unknown. Like the beast of the forest, they are no sooner old enough to care for themselves, than they cease even to remem- ber, by Iwhose care they have become so; and the slightest provocation will produce a quarrel with a father, as readily as with a stranger. The unwritten law of the Indian, about which so many writers have dreamed, enacts-no higher penalty for parricide, than for any other homi- cide; and a command to honor his father and mother because they are his father and mother, would strike the mind of an Indian as simply absurd. * James "( Expedition," vol. i., p. 237.--Catlin's "American Indians," vol. i, pp. 216-'18. The latter is a zealous apologist 'for Indian cruelties and barbarisms. t t "Conquest of, Canada," vol. i., pp. 19:42-. page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] 48 WESTEN OHA RAOTERS. If the possession of a religion, whose fruits are no, better than these, can, of itself, give ground for hope to the Christian philanthropist, let him cherish it fondly. But'it is much to be 'feared, that the existence of such a system indefinitely postpones, if it does not entirely preclude, the Indian's conversion. Even a bird which has never known the forest, will eventually escape to the wilds which God has made its home; and the young. Indian, who has been reared in the city, will fly-to the woods and prairies, and return to the faith of his fa- thers, because these, and only these, will satisfy his nature. A theme of praise, in itself more just, has been the Indian's courage; but the same cir- cumstances of poetical interest, which have magnified men's views of his other qualities, v The following may serve to indicate the sort of impression of Christianity which even the most earnest and enlightened preaching has been able to make upon the Indian mind: "Here I saw a most singular union; one of the [Indian] graves was surmounted by a cross, while close to it a trunk of a tree was raised, covered with hieroglyphics, recording the number of enemies slain by the tenant of the tomb. Here presenting a hint to those who are fond of system-making on the religion of these people," &c.--Beltrami's ,Pilgrimage, &c., vol. ii., p. 307. Bancroft's United States, vol. iii.,- pp. 803-'4. Flint's Gaograqphy, pp. 109, 126. - THE INDIAN. 49 have contributed to exaggerate this also. 'If calm steadiness of nerve, in the moment of ac- tion, be an element in true courage, that of the primitive savage was scarcely genuine. In all his battled, there were but two possible as- pects-the furious onset, and the panic re- treat: the firmness which plants itself in line or square, and stubbornly contends for victory, was no part of his character. A check, to him, always resulted in a defeat; and, though this might, in some measure, be the consequence of that want of discipline, which is incident to the savage state, the remark applies with 'equal justice, whether he fought singly or in a body. He was easily panic-struck, because the im- pulse of the forward movement was necessary to keep him strung to effort; and the retrograde immediately became a rout, because daring, without constancy, collapses with the first re- action. l Notwithstanding the enervating influences attributed to refinement and luxury, genuine, steady courage is one of the fruits borne by a high civilization. It is the result of combina- tion, thought, and the divinity which attaches to the cultivated man. And, though it may seem rather unfair to judge a savage by the rules of civilization, it has long been received 3 , page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] 60 WESTERN CHARACTERS. as a canon, that true valor bears an inverse ra- tio to ferocious cruelty. Of all people yet dis- covered upon earth, the Indian is the most ferocious. We must, therefore, either vary the meaning of the word, when applied to different people, or, deny the savage the possession of any higher bravery, than that which lives only through the onset. Cunning supplied the place of the nobler, quality; the object of his warfare was to over- come by wily stratagem, rather than by open combat. "Skill consisted in surprising the enemy. They followed his trail, to kill him when he slept; or they lay in ambush near a village, and watched for an oppomtunity of sud- denly surprising an individual, or, it might be, a woman and her children; and, with three strokes to each, he scalps of the victims being suddenly taken off, the brave flew back with his companions, to hang the trophies in his cabin."* If they succeeded in taking prison- ers, it was only that they might be reserved for the most infernal torments, and the gratifi- cation of a brutal ferocity, not the trial and admiration of the victim's courage, was the purpose of their infliction t *Bancroft, vol. iii., p. 281. t "To inflict blows that can not be returned," says this his- THE INAM. 51 The fortitude of the Indian under suffering, has often been referred to, in evidence of moral courage. And it is certainly true, that the display so frequently made of triumph in the hour of death by torture, indicates,* in part, an elevation of character, seldom found among more civilized men. It is, however, the elevation of a barbarian; and its manifes- tations are as much the fruit of impotent rage, as of a noble fortitude. The prisoner at the stake knows that there is no escape; and his intense hatred of his enemies takes the form of a wish, to deprive them of a triumph. While his flesh is crisping and crackling in the flames, therefore, he sings of the scalps he has taken, and heaps opprobrious epithets upon the heads of his tormentors. But his song is as much a cry of agony, as of exultation-his pain only adopts this mode of expression. It is quite cer- tain, also, that he does not suffer so deeply, as would a white man in the same circumstances. -By long exposure, and the endurance of hard- torian (Bancroft, vol. iii., p. 282), " is a proof of full success, and the entire humiliation of the enemy. It is, moreover, an experiment of courage and patience." But we think such things as much mere brutality, as triumph. * The frequent change of tense in this article, refers to those circumstances in which the present differs from She past liar- acter of the Indian. page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] S- WELTEr HA TEBS. ships incident to his savage life, his body ac- quires an insensibility akin to that of wild ani- mals.* His nerves do not shrink or betray a tendency to spasm, even when a limb is ampu- tated. Transmitted from one generation to an- other, this physical nature has become a pecu- liarity of the race. And when assisted by the fierce hatred above referred to, it is not at all strange that it should enable him to beariwith fortitude, tortures which would conquer the firmness of the most resolute white man t The Indian's dignified stoicism has been as /uHih exaggerated,- as his courage and forti- / tude. \It is not quite true that he never ex- presses surprise, or becomes loquacious. But he has a certain stern impassibility of feature -a coldness of manner --which have been mis- taken for dignity. His immobility of counte- nance, however, may be the effect of sluggish sensibilities, or even of dull perceptions ;: and * It is to be doubted, whether some part of this vaunted, stoicism be not the result of a more than ordinary degree of physical insensibility."-Flint's Geography, vol. i., p. 114. t Many white men, however, have endured the utmost exa tremities of Indian cruelty. See cases of Brebeut and Lalle- mand, in Bancroft, vol. iii., p. 140. !"It is intellectual culture which contributes most to diversi- fy the featuresd"-Humboldt's Personal 27arrative,vol. iii., p. 228. Ey. INDBIAN. the same savage vanity, which leads him to make a display of strength or agility before friend or enemy, prevents his acknowledging ignorance, by betraying surprise.* We have been in company with Indians from the Far West, while they saw a railroad for the first time. When they thought themselves unno- ticed, they were as curious about the singular machinery of the locomotive, and as much ex- cited by the decorations and appointments of the cars, as the most ignorant white man. But the moment they discovered that their move- ments were observed, they resumed their dig- nified composure; and, if you had judged of the Indian country by their subsequent deport- ment, you might have believed that the vast prairies of the Missouri were everywhere inter- sected by railroads-that the Indian had, in fact, never known any other mode of travel- ling. "On first seeing a steamboat, however," says Flint, who well understands his 'character, "he never represses is customary I rgh /, " Generally, among white men, he who is fond- est of inflicting pain, is least able to endure it. "They have probably as much curiosity [as the white], but a more stern perseverance in repressing it."-P-7int's feog- raphy, vol. i., p. 124. / page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] 6ut eInSiarSvers CHARACTERS. But the Indian reverses almost all the princi- ples, -which apply to civilized life; and, ac- cordingly, we find that, with all his so-called fortitude, he is the most intensely cruel of all living men. Before possession of the continent was taken by Europeans, war was more con- stantly the occupation of his life, than it has a ' been since; but even now his only object in takilg his- enemies alive, is to subject them to the most inhuman tortures.* And in these brutal orgies, the women are most active, even taking the lead, in applying the cord and the brand e Nor is this cruelty confined to ene- mies, as the practice of leaving the aged and infirm to die of starvation sufficiently proves. And his treachery is equal to his cruelty. TNo treaty can bind him longer than superior force compels him to observe it. The discovery that his enemy is unprepared for an attack, is sufficient reason to him for making it; his only object in concluding peace, is to secure an ad- * "The enemy is assailed with treachery, and, if conquered, treated with revolting cruelty." * * "A fiendish ferocity assumes full sway."--Conquest of Canada, vol. i., p. 206. f It is perhaps not .very remarkable, however, that the wo- men are most cruel to the aged and infirm--the young and vigorous being sometimes adopted by them, to console them for the loss of those who have fallen.--Ienem, p. 210. THE INDIA. 55 vantage in war; and before the prospect of a bloody inroad, his faith melts away, like snow before the sun. The claims of gratitude he-sel- dom acknowledges; he cherishes the memory of a benefit, only until he finds an opportunity of repaying it with an injury; and forbearance to avenge the latter, only encourages its repeti- tion.* The numerous pretty stories published of Indian gratitude, are either exceptional cases, or unmixed romances. There have been some tribes of Indians in a measure reclaimed from their state of barbar- ism; the Cherokees, I believe, (and perhaps one or two other nations,) have even increased in numbers, under the influence of civilization. But this is the result of numerous favorable causes combined, and proves nothing, from which to infer the Indian's docility. Other savages, on coming in contact with civilized men, have dis- covered a disposition to acquire some of the useful arts - their comforts have been increased, their sufferings diminished, and their condition ameliorated, by the grafting of new ideas upon * "We consider them at reacherous people, easily swayed from their purpose, paying their court to the divinity of good fortune, and always ready to side with the strongest. We should not rely upon their feelings of to-day, as any pledge for what they will be to-morrow."--Flint's Geography, vol. i, p1 120. page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] 5f6 WESTERN CHARACTERS. the old. But, between the red man and the wfite, contiguity has brought about little more than an exchange of vices. Almost the only things coveted by the "' red- skin" from the "paleface," were his arms, his trinkets, and his " firewater." He could appre- ciate whatsoever gave him superiority in war, gratified his childish vanity, or ministered to his brutal appetite. But the greater comfort of the white man's house-the higher excel- lence of his boat-his improved agricultural implements or extended learning-none of these things appealed to the Indian's passions or desires. The arts of peace were nothing to him - refinement was worse than nothing. He would spend hours in decorating his person, but not a moment in cleansing it: I believe no tradition exists of an Indian ever having used soap or bought a fine-tooth comb! He is, indeed, a " pattern of filthiness ;" but even in civilized life, we find that this is not at all in- compatible with an extravagant love of orna- ment; and, in this respect, the savage is not behind his more enlightened brethren and sis- ters. Beads, ribands, and scarlet cloth--with powder and lead, guns, tomahawks, and knives -are the acquisitions which he' prizes most highly, THE INDIAN. 57 Pre-eminent, however, above all these in his estimation, is the greatest curse which has yet reached him--the liquid fire called whiskey! He is, by nature, a drunkard, and the fury of his intoxication equals the ferocity of his war- fare. "All words would be thrown away," says Mr. Flint,*" 'in attempting to portray, in just colors, the effects of whiskey -upon such a race." Fire should be kept away from com- bustibles- whiskey from the Indian, and for the same reason. With drunkenness, he pos- sesses, also, its inseparable companion, the vice of gambling t I He is the most inveterate gamester: Before tot demon of avarice every- thing gives way. He even forgets his taciturn- ity, in the excitement of the game, and be- comes loquacious and eager. He will stake all his most valuable possessions, and, losing these, will even risk his own liberty, or life, on the turn of a card. We were once witness to a game in San Antonio (in Western Texas), among a party of Lipans,: a race of fine-looking men, who range the table-lands north of the * "Geography of the Mississippi Valley," vol. i., p. 121. t "The Indians are immoderately fond of play.'"- Warbur- ton, vol. i., p. 218. : These used cards; but they have, among themselves, nu- merous games of chance, older than the discovery of the con- tinent. 3* page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] ,8 WESTERN CHARACTERS. sources of the Nueces. Two of them, one the handsomest warrior among them, lost, first, the money, which they had just received as the price of skins, brought to the city for sale. They then staked, successively, their horses, their arms, their mocassins, and their blankets. The "Iuck" was against them - everything was lost; and we supposed the game was over. But -as a last resource, like drawing blood from their beating hearts-each produced a little leathern bottle, containing whiskey! And, as if these possessed a higher value than all the articles yet lost, the game went on with in- creased interest! Evenr the potent "spirit" thus evoked, could not prevail upon Fortune to change her face: the Whiskey was lost with the rest! Each rose to his feet, with the usual guttural exclamation, and, afoot, and unarmed as he was, silently took his way to the prairies; while the winners collected in a group, and with much glee,proceeded to consume the liquid poison so cheaply obtained. We come, finally to the question of the In- dian's fate: What is to become of the race? The answer presents no difficulties, save such as grow out of men's unwillingness to look un- pleasant truths in the face. There has been, THE INDIAN. 59 of late years, much lamentation, among our own people, over the gradual extinction of these interesting savages; and in Europe we have been made the. subject of indignant elo- quence, for (what those, who know nothing about it, are pleased to calD "our o rn .t' of the Indian." But, in the first place, the de- cay of the American races is neither so rapid nor so universal, as is generally supposed;" and, in the second place, if the fact were other- wise, we could, at the worst, be charged only with accelerating a depopulation already be- gun. 4"The ten thousand mounds in the Mis- sissippi Valley, the rude memorials of an im- mensely numerous former population, but, to our view, no more civilized than the present races, are proofs that the country was depopu- lated, when the white man first became ac- quainted with it. If we can infer nothing else from these mounds, we can clearly infer, that this country once had its millions."t What * "The Cherokee and Mobilian families of nations are more numerous now than ever."--Bancroft, vol. iii., p. 253. In speaking of this declamation about the extinction of ,the race, Mr. Flint very pertinently remarks: "One would think it had been discovered, that the population, the improvements, and the social happiness of our great political edifice, ought never to have been erected in the place of these habitations of cruelty. '-Geography, vol. i., p. 107. t Idem. page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] 69 WESTERN CHARACTEr. had become of this immense population a The successive invasions of new- hordes of barba- rians from the north, intestine wars, and the law, that men shall advance toward civiliza- tion, or decay from the earth -these are the only causes to which we may ascribe their dis- appearance. The extinction of the Indian race is decreed, by a law of Providence which we can not gain- say. Barbarism must give way to civilization. It is not only inevitable, but right, that it should be so. The tide of empire, which has been flowing since the earliest times, has set steadily toward the West. The Indian emi- grated in the wrong direction: and now, after the lapse of many centuries, the descendants of the first Asians, having girdled the globe, meet on the banks of the Mississippi! On the one side, are enlightenment, civilization, Christian- ity: on the other, darkness, degradation, bar- barism: and the question arises, which shall give way? The Indian recedes-: at the rate of seventeen miles a year,* the flood rolls on! Already it has reached the shores of the Pa- cific: One century will reduce the whole con- tinent to the possession of the white man; and, * This is De Tocqueville's estimate.-.Democracy in America, vol. ii., chap. 10. T-ET INDIAN. 61 then, the lesson\rwh all history teaches, will be again taught -that two distinct races can- not exist in the same country on equal terms. The weaker must be incorporated with the stronger -or exterminated.@ "( We may as well endeavor to make the setting sun stand still on the summit of the Rocky Mountains, as attempt to ar- rest the final extermination of the Indian race!"--Merivale on Colonization-.Lecture 19. The principle stated in the text will apply with equal force to the negro-race; and those who will look the facts firmly in the face, can not avoid seeing, that the ultimate solution of the j problem of American Slavery, can be nothing but the sword page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] II. THE VOYAGEUR. "Spread out earth's holiest records here, Of days and deeds to reverence dear: A zeal like this, what pious legends tell?" THE shapeless knight-errantry of the thir- teenth and fourteenth centuries, rich as it was in romance and adventure, is not to be com- pared, in any valuable characteristic, to the noiseless self-devotion of the men who first ex- plored the Western country. The 'courage of the knight was a part of his savage nature ; his confidence was in the strength of his own right arm; and if his rnggedness was ever softened down by gentler thoughts, it was only when he asked forgiveness for his crimes,'or melted. in sensual idolatry of female beauty. It would be a curious and instructive inquiry, could we institute it with success, how much of the contempt of danger manifested by the wandering knight was referable to genuine 'THE VOYAGEURI 63 valor, and what proportion to the strength of a Milan coat, and the temper of a Toledo or Ferrara blade. And it would be still more curious, although perhapsnot so instructive, to estimate the purity and fidelity of the heroines of chivalry; to ascertain the amount of true de- votion given them by their admirers, " without hope of reward." But without abating its interest by invidious and ungrateful inquiries, we can see quite enough -in its turbulence, its cruelty, arrogance, and oppression--to make us thank Heaven that "the days of chivalry are gone." And from that chaotic scene of rapine, raid, and murder, we can turn with pleasure to contemplate-the truer, nobler chivalry -the chivalry of love and peace, whose weapons werei the kindness of their hearts, the'purity of their motives, and the self-denial of their lives. The term "voyageuqr" literally signifies "traveller;" and, by this modest name are in- dicated some of the bravest adventurers the world has ever seen. But it is not in its usual, common-place signification that I employ the * In common use, this word was restricted so as to indicate only the boatmen, the carriers of that time; but I am writing of a period anterior, by many years, to the existence of the Trade which made their 6ccupation. page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] " WESTERN CFARAOTRAE. word, nor yet in that which is given it by most writers on the subject of early French settle- ments and explorations. Men are often affected by the names given them, either of opprobrium or commendation; but words 'are quite as fre- quently changed, restricted, or enlarged in meaning, by their application to men. For example: you apply the word soldier to a class of men; and if robbery be one of the character- istics of that class, " soldier" will soon come to mean "robber" too. And thus, though the parallel is only logical, has it been with the term "voyageur.' The class of men to whom it is applied were travellers--voyageurs ; but they were moreo; and as the habits and quali- ties of men came in time to be better under- ,stood than the meaning of French words, the term, used in reference to Western history, took much of its significance from the -history and character of the men it assumed to de- scribe. Thus, un oyageur means not only a traveller, but a traveller with a purpose; an adventurer among the Western wilds; a chiv- alrous missionary, either in the cause of sci- ence or religion. It includes high courage, burning zeal for church and country, and the most generous self-devotion. It describes such men as Marquette, La Salle, Joliet, Gravier, o THE VOYAGEUR. 65 and hundreds of others equally illustrious, who lived and died among the dangers and priva- tions of the wilderness; who opened the way for civilization and Christianity among the savages, and won, many of them, crowns of martyrdom. They were almost all Frenchmen. The Spaniards who came to this continent were mere gold-seekers, thirsting only for wealth; and if they sought to propagate Christianity, or rather the Christian name, it was only a sanguinary bigotry that prompted them. On the other hand, the English emigrants came to take possession of the country for themselves. The conversion of the natives; or territorial ac- quisition for the mother-country, were to them objects of barely secondary importance. They believed themselves persecuted-- some of them were persecuted-and they fled: it was only safety for themselves, and the rich lands of the Indian, that they sought. Providence reserved for the French chevaliers and missionaries the glory of leaving their homes without compul- sion, real or imaginary, to penetrate an inhos- pitable wilderness; to undergo fatigues; to encounter dangers, and endure privations of a thousand kinds; enticed by no golden glitter, covetous of no riches, save such as are "laid page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] 6 WEVSERN CRN E CTrES. up in heaven!"They came not as conquerors, but as ministers of peace, demanding only hos- pitality. They never attacked the savages with sword or fagot; but extending hands not stained by blood, th y justified their profession by relief and love and kindly offices. Sometimes, indeed, they received little tracts of land; not seized by the hand of power, nor grasped by superior cunning, but possessed as the free gift of sim- ple gratitude; and upon these they lived in peace, surrounded by savages, buit protected by the respect inspired by blameless and be- neficent lives. Many of those whose vows per- mitted it, intermarried among the converted na- tives, and left the seeds of many meliorations in a stony soil; and many of them, when they died, were as sincerely mourned by the simple children of the forest, as if they had been chiefs and braves. Such were the men of peace who penetrated the wilderness through the French settlements in Canada, and preached the gospel to the heathen, where no white man had ever before been seen; and it is particularly to this class that I apply the word at the head of this arti- cle. But the same gentle spirit pervaded other orders of adventurers -men of the sword and buckler, as well as of the stole and surplice. THE VOYAGEUR. 67 These caine to establish the dominion of La Belle France; but it was not to oppress the simple native, or to drive him from his lands. Kindness marked even the conduct of the rough soldier; and such men as La Salle, and Iberville, who were stern enough in war, and rigid enough in discipline, manifested always an anxious so- licitude for the rights, as well as for the spiritual welfare of the Indian. They gave a generous confidence where they were conscious of no wish to injure; they treated frankly and on equal terms, with those whom their religion and their native kindness alike taught them to consider brethren and friends. Take, for example, that significant anecdote of La Salle, related by the faithful chronicler* of his unfortunate expedi- tions. He was building the fort of Crevecceur, near the spot where now stands the city of Pe- oria, on the Tllinois river; and even the name of his little fortress (Creveoceur, Broken Heart) was a mournful record of his shattered fortunes. The means of carrying out his noble enterprise (the colonizing bf the Mississippi valley) were lost; the labor of years had been rendered in- * Joutel, who, was one of La Salle's party, and afterward wrote an account of the enterprise, entitled Journal HiJsto- rique, published in Paris, 1713. Its fidelity is as evident upon its face, as is the simplicity of the historian. page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] 68 WESTERN CEWaCTENS. effectual by one shipwreck; his men were dis- contented, even mutinous, " attempting," says Hennepin, "first to poison, and then desert him;" his mind was distracted, his heart al. most broken, by accumulated disasters. Sur. rounded thus by circumstances which might well have rendered him careless of the feelings of the savages around him, he observed that they had become cold and distant-that in effect they no longer viewed him as their friend. The Iroquois,* drifting from the shores of Lake Ontario, where they had always been the bitterest foes of the French, had instilled fear and hatred into their minds; it was even said that some of his own men had encouraged the growing discontent. In this juncture, what measures does he take? Strengthen his forti- fications, and prepare for war, as the men of other nations had done? Far from it. Soldier and adventurer as he was, he had no wish to shed innocent blood; though with his force he might have defied all the nations about him. He went as a friend, frankly and generously, * This was in the winter of 1679-'80; and the Five Nations, included in the general term Iroquoia, had not then made the conquest upon which the English afterward founded their claim to the country. They were, however, generally regarded as enemies by all the Illinois tribes THE VOYAGRFU. 69 among them, and demanded the reasons of- their -discontent. He touched their hearts by his confidence, convinced them of his friend- ship, and attached them to himself more devo- tedly than ever. A whole history in-one brief passage! But it is more especially to the voyageurs of the church-the men of faith and love - that I wish to direct my readers' attention: To such men as Le Caron, a Franciscan, with all the zeal and courage and self-abnegation of his order, who wandered and preached among the bloody Iro- quois, and upon the waters of Huron, as early as 1616: to Mesnard, a devoted missionary of the same order, who, in 1660, founded a mission at the Sault de Ste. Marie, and then went into the forest to induce the savages to listen to the glad tidings he had brought, and never came backl: to Father Allouez, who rebuilt the mis- sion five years afterward (the first of these houses of God which was not destroyed or abandoned), who subsequently crossed the lakes, and preached to the Indians on Fox river, where, in one of the villages of the Mi- amis and Mascoutens, Marquette found a cross still standing, after the lapse of years, where Allouez had raised it, covered with the offer- ings of the simple natives to an unknown God. page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] TO i WESTERN -CHARACTES. He is the same, too, who founded Kaskaskia, probably the earliest settlement in the great valley, and whose history ends (significant fact!) with the record of his usefulness. To Father Pinet, who founded Cahokia, and was so successful in the conversion of the natives, that his little chapel could not contain the numbers who resorted to his ministrations: to Father Marest, the first preacher against intem- perance; and, finally, to Marquette, the best and bravest of them all, the most single-hearted and unpretending! Enthusiasm is a characteristic of the French nation;- a trait in some individuals elevated to a sublime self-devotion, and in others degraded to mere excitability. The vivacity, gesticula- tion, and grimace, which characterize most of them, are the external signs of this nature; the calm heroism of the seventeenth century, and the insane devotion of the nineteenth, were alike its fruits. The voyagewur possessed it, in comnmon'with all his countrymen. But in him it was not noisy, turbulent, or egotistical; military -glory had "neither part nor lot" in his schemes; the conquests he desired to make were the, conquests of faith; the dominion he wished to establish was the dominion of Jesus, TEE VOYAG#Er. 71 In the pursuit of these objects, or--rather of this single object, I have said he xpanifested the enthusiasm of his race; but it was the, noblest form of that characteristic. The fire that burned in his bosom was fed by no selfish pur- pose. To have thought of himself, or of his own comforts, or glory, to the detriment of any Christian enterprise, however dangerous or in- promising, would, in his eyes, have been a deadly sin. At Sault de Ste. Marie, Father Marquette. heard of many savages (whom he calls "God's children") living in barbarism, far to the west. With five boatmen and one companion, he at once set out for an unexplored, even unvisited wilderness. He had what they had not- the gospel; and his heart yearned toward them, as the heart of a mother toward an afflicted child. He went to them, and bound them to him ' in the bond of peace."' If they received him kind- ly-as they usually did, for even a savage rec- ognises and respects genuine devotion-he preached to them, mediated among them, soft- ened their hearts, and gathered them into the fold of God. If they met him with arms in their hands-as they sometimes did, for savaged, like civilized men, do not always know their page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 72 WESTEREN VCHAOTES. friends-he resolutely offered peace; and, in his own simple and pious language, "God touched their hearts," and they cast aside their weapons and received him kindly. But the voyagewr had higher qualities than enthusiasm. He was capable of being 6o ab- sorbed in a cause as to lose sight of his own identity; to forget that he was more than an instrument in the hands of God, to do God's work: and the distinction between these traits is broad indeed! Enthusiasm is noisy, obtru- sive - self-abnegation is silent, retiring; enthu- siasm is officious, troublesome, careless of time and place --self-abnegation is prudent, gentle, considerate. The one is active and fragment- ary-the other passive, but constant. Thus, when the untaught and simple native was to be converted, the missionary took note of the spiritual capacity as well as of the spirit- ual wants; he did not force him to receive, at once, the whol -creed of the church, as a mere enthusiast would have done; for that wisdom would feed an infant with strong meats, even before it had drawn its mother's milk. Neither did he preach the gospel with the sword, like the Spaniard, nor with fire and fagot, like the puritan. He was wise as the' serpent, but' gentle as the dove. He 'toolk the wondering THE VOYAGEUR, 73 Indian by the hand; received him as a brother won him over to -listen patiently; and then taught him first that which he could most easily t comprehend: he led him to address the throne of grace, or, in the language of the time, " to embrace the prayer ;" because even the savage believed in Deity. As his understanding was expanded, and his heart purified-as every heart must be which truly lifts itself to God- he gradually taught him the more abstruse and wonderful doctrines of the Church of Christ. Gently and imperceptibly he led himn on, until the whole tremendous work was done. The un- tutored savage, if he knew: nothing else, yet knew the name of his Redeemer. The bloody warfare, the feuds and jealousies of his tribe, if not completely overcome, at least were soft- ened and ameliorated. When he could not convert, he endeavored to humanize; and among the tribes of the Illinois,* though they were never thoroughly Christianized, the influii ence of the good fathers soon prevailed to abol- ish the barbarous practice of torturing cap- tives t For though they might not embrace * A collective name, including a number, variously stated, rf different tribes confederated. t Annals of the West, by J. H. Perkins and J. M. 1Peok p. 679. St. Lotis. 1850. 4 page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] T4 WESTERN CHARACTERS. the religion, the savages venerated its teachers, and loved them for their gentleness. And this gentleness was not want of courage; for never in the history of the world has truer valor been exhibited than that shown by the early missionary and his compeers, the first military adventurers! Read Joutel's account of the melancholy life and death of La Salle; read the simple, unpretending "Journal", of Marquette ; and compare their constancy and heroism with that displayed at any time in any cause! But the voyageur possessed higher qualities than courage, also; and here again we recur to his perfect abnegation of himself; his renunciation of all personal considerations. Courage'takes note of danger, but defies it: the voyageur was careless of danger, because he counted it as nothing; he gave it no' thought, because it only affected himself and he valued not his own safety and comfort, sojlong as he could serve the cause by forgetting them. Mere courage is combative, even pugnacious; but the voyageur fought only " the good fight ;" he had no pride of conquest, save in the victories of Faith, and rather would suffer, himself, than * The substance of the Journal may be found, republished by Dr. Sparks, in the second edition of Butler's Kentucky, p. 493, et seq., and in vol. x. of his American Biography. TcE VOYAGEUR. 75 inflict suffering upon others. Mere courage is restless, impatient, purposeless: but the voya- geutr was content to remain wherever he could do good, tentative only in the cause of Christ, and distracted by no objects from his mission. His religion was his inspiration;- his conscience his reward. His system may have been per- verted, his zeal mistaken, his church a sham; we. are not arguing that question. But the purity of his intentions, the sincerity of his heart, can not be doubted; and the most intol- erant protestant against "the corruptions of Rome" will, at least, admit that even catholi- cism was betterthan the paganism of the sav- age. "There is not," says Macaulay,* " and there never was on this earth, a work of human poli- cy so well deserving of examination as the Ro- man Catholic Church." And certainly all other systems combined have never produced one tithe of the astounding results brought about by this alone. Whether she has $aught truth or falsehood; whether, on the whole, it had been better or worse for the cause of Christian- ity, had no such organization ever existed; whether her claims be groundless or well- founded, are questions foreign to our purpose. *Miscellanies, "Review of Ranke's History of the Popea'" page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 76 :dWESTE= cHABACTERS. But that her polity is the most powerful the best adapted to the ends she has in view - of all that man has hitherto invented, there can be no doubt. Her missionaries have been more nu. merous and more successful, ay, and more de- voted, than those of any other church. They have gone where even the sword of the con- queror could not cleave his way. They have built churches in the wilderness, which were time-worn and crumbling when the first emi- grant penetrated the forests. They have preach- ed to youthful savages who never saw the face of another white man, though they lived to three-score years and ten. They have prayed upon the shores of lonely lakes and rivers, which were not mapped by geographers for centuries after their deaths. They have trav- elled on foot, unarmed and alone, where an army could not march. And everywhere their zeal and usefulness have ended only with their lives; and always with t1feir latest breath they have mingled prayers for the salvation of their flocks, with aspirations for the welfare of their church. For though countless miles of sea and land were between her and them, their loyalty and affection to the great spiritual Mother were never forgotten. "In spite. of oceans and deserts; of hunger and pestilence; f' TnE VOTA6f9. ff of spies and penal laws; of dungeonAs nd racks, of gibbets. and quartering-blocks," they have been found in every country, at all tinmes, ever active and zealous. And everytwhere,'in palace, or hovel, or wilderness, they have been true sons of the church, loyal and obedient. An organization capable of producing such results is certainly well worth examination. For the influence she has wielded in ages past gives promise of her future power; and it be- comes those who think her permanence perni- cious to the world, to avoid her errors and yet inflate her wisdom. If the system be a false- hood and a sham, it is a most gig antic and suc- cessful one, and it is of strange longevity. It has lived now more than fifteen hundred years, and one hundred and fifty millions of people yet believe it. If it be a counterfeit, it is high time the cheat were detected and exposed. Let those who have the truth give forth its light, that the falsehood may wither and die. Unless they do so, the life which has already extended over so many centuries may gain fiesh vigor, and renew its youth. Even yet the vision of the essayist may be realized: "She may still exist in undiminished vigor, when some trav- eller from New Zealand shall, in the midst of a vast solitude, take his stand on a broken arch page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] P8 WESTERN CHARAOTERS. of London Bridge to sketch the ruins of St. Paul's!" It was to this church that the early Voya- geutrs belonged. And I 80 not use that word "' belonged" as it is employed in modern times among protestants: I mean more than that con- venient, loosely-fitting profession, which, like a garment, is thrown on and off, as the exigencies of hypocrisy or cupidity may require. These men actually did belong to the church. They were hers, soul and body; hers, in life and in death; hers to go whithersoever she might di- rect, to do whatsoever she might appoint. They believed the doctrines they taught with an abid- ing, active faith; and they were willing to be spent in preaching them to the heathen. It has always been a leading principle in the policy of the Roman church, to preserve her unity, and she has been enabled to do so, prin- cipally by the ramified and elastic polity for which she has been distinguished, to which she owes much of her extent and power, as well as no small part of the reproach so liberally be- stowed upon her in the pages of history. There are many " arms" in -her service: a man must be impracticable indeed, when she can find no place" in which to make lim useful, or to pre- THE VOYAoGEU. 79 vent his being mischievous. She never drives one from the pale of the church who can benefit it as a communicant, or injure it as a dissenter. If he became troublesome at home, she has, in all ages, had- enterprises on foot in which she might clothe him with authority, and send him to the uttermost parts of the earth; thus ridding herself of a dangerous member, and, by. the same act, enlarging the sphere of her own do- minion. Does an enthusiast become noisy, or troublesome upon unimportant points, the creed is flexible, and the mother will not quarrel with her child, for his earnestness may convince and lead astray more valuable sons and daughters. She will establish a new order, of which the stubborn fanatic shall be founder; the new or- der is built into the old church organization, and its founder becomes a dignitary of the ec- clesiastical establishment. Instead of becoming a dangerous heretic and schismatic, he is at-a tached to orthodoxy by cords stronger than steel; henceforth all his earnest senthusiasm shall be directed to the advancement of his or- der, and consequently of his church. Does one exhibit inflexibility in some matter of con- science upon which the church insists, there are many of God's children in the wilderness starving in spirit for the bread of life; and to page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] 80 W WESTERN CHARACTERS. these, with that bread, shall the refractory son be sent. He receives the commission; departs upon his journey, glad to forget a, difference with his spiritual superiors; preaches to the heathen; remembers only that the church is his mother; wins a crown of martyrdom, and is canonized for the encouragement of others! Thus she finds a place for all, and work enough for each; and thus are thrown off the elements of schism and rebellion. Those who had most courage in the cause of right; all who were likely to be guided in matters of con- science by their own convictions; the most sincere and single-hearted, the firmest and pur- est and bravest, were, in matters of controversy, the- most dangerous champions, should they range themselves against the teaching of the church. They were consequently, at the period of which I am writing, the men whom it was most desirable to send away; and .they were eminently well fitted for the arduous and wast- ing duties of the missionary. To this class belonged the large majority of the voyageur priests: men who might be incon- venient and obtrusive monitors, or formidable adversaries in controversy, if they remained at home; but who could only be useful - who of all men could be most useful - in gathering the heathen into the fol of t 81 heathen into the fold of the church. There were, doubtless, a few of another class; the restless, intriguing, and disobedient, who, though not formidable, were troublesome. But even, when these joined the missionary expeditions, they did but little to forward the work, and are entitled to none of the honor so abundantly due to their more sincere brethren. To this class, for example, belonged the false and egotistical Hennepin, who only signalized himself by en- deavoring to appropriate the reputation so hardly won by the brave and unfortunate La Salle. It does not appear upon the record that any of these mnen - of either the restless and am- bitious, or of the better class-were literally sent away. ' But such has been the politic prac- tice of this church for many ages ; and we may safely believe, that when she was engaged in an unscrupulous and desperate contest for the recovery, by fair means or foul, of her immense losses, there mnight be many in the ranks of her pious priesthood whom it would be inconveni- ent to retain at home. And during that conflict * In a book which he published at Utrecht, in 1697, entitled A New Discovery of a Vast Country, he claims to have gone down the Mississippi to its mouth before La Salle. ' The whole book is a mere plagiarism. See Sparks's Life of La Salle, where the vain father is summarily and justly disposed of. 4* page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] 82- WE8lSN CHARACTERS. especially, with the most formidable enemies! she ever had, she could not afford to be encum- bered. But whatever may have been the motives of their spiritual superiors, the missionaries them- selves were moved only by the considerations of which we have spoken-the truest piety and the most burning zeal. -Of these influences they were conscious; but we shall perhaps not do the character injustice if we add another spur to action, of which they were not con- scious. There is .a vein of romance in the French composition; a love of adventure-for the sake of the adventure itself, which, when not tamed or directed, makes a Frenchman fit- ful, erratic, and unreliable. When it is toned by personal ambition, it becomes a sort of Pala- din contempt for danger; sometimes a crazy furor. When accompanied by powerful intel- lect, and strengthened by concentration on a purpose, it makes a great- commander -great ,for the quickness of his comprehension, the suddenness of his resolutions, the rapidity of their execution. When humanized by love, and quickened by religious zeal, it is purified of every selfish thought, and produces the chiv- alrous missionaryv, whom neither fire nor flood, neltkker desert nor pathless wilderness, shall de- * THE VOYAGEUT. S3 ter from obeying the. command of -Tnim who sent his gospel "unt6 every creature." And thus are even those traits, which so often curse the world with insane ambition and sanguinary war, turned by the power of a true benevolence to be blessings of incalculable value. Such were the purposes, such the motives, of this band of noble men; and whatever may have been their errors, we must at least accord them the virtues of sincerity, courage, and self- denial. But let us look a little more closely at the means by which they accomplished under- takings which, to any other race of men, would have been not only impracticable, but: utterly desperate. Take again, as the representative of his class, the case of Father Marquette, than whom, obscure as his name is in the wastes of history, no man ever lived a more instructive and exemplary life. From the year 1668 t 1671,* Marquette had been preaching at the Sault de Sainte Marie, a little below the foot of Lake Superior. He was associated with others in that mission; but the largest type, though it thrust itself no higher than the smallest, will make the broadest im- press on the page of history; and even in the * Most of these dates may be found in Bancroft's United States, vol iii page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] 84 WESTERN CHSRACTEnRS. meager record of that time, we may trace the influence of his gentle but firm spirit-those by whom he was accompanied evidently took their tone from him. But he was one of the Church's pioneers; that class whose eager, single-hearted zeal is always pushing forward to new conquests of the faith; and when he had put aside the weapons that opposed their way, to let his followers in, his thoughts at once went on to more remote and suffering regions. During his residence at the Sault, rumors and legends were continually floating in of the un- known country lying to the west-" the Land of the Great River," the Indians called it until the mind of the good father became fully possessed with the idea of going to convert the nations who dwelt upon its shores. In the year 1671, he took the first step in that direction, moving on to Point St. Ignatius, on the main land, north of the island of Mackinac. Here, surrounded by his little flock of wondering listeners, he preached until the spring of 1673; but all the time his wish to carry the gospel where its sound had never been heard was growing stronger." He felt in his heart the im- pulse of his calling, to lead the way and open a path for the advance of light. At the period mentioned, he received an order from the wise THE VOYAGEUR. 85 intendant in New France, M. Talon, to explore the pathless wilderness to the westward. Then was seen the true spirit of the man, and of his order. He gathered together no arma- ment; asked the protection of no soldiers j no part of the cargo of his little boat consisted of gunpowder, or of swords or guns; his only arms were the spirit of love and peace; his trust was in God for protection. Five boatmen, and one companion, the Sieur Joliet, composed his par- ty. Two light bark canoes were his only means of travelling; and in these he carried a small quantity of Indian corn and some jerked meat, his only means of subsistence. Thus equipped, he set out through Green Bay and up Fox river, in search of a country never yet visited by any European. The Indians en- deavored to dissuade him, wondering at his hardihood, and still more at the motives which could induce him thus to brave so many dan- gers. They told him of the savage Indians, to whom it would be only pastime to torture and murder him; of the terrible monsters which would swallow him and his companions, "'canoes and all;" of the great bird called the Piasau,* which devoured men, after car- The legend of tie Piasau is well known. Within the rec- ollection of men now living, rude paintings of the monster page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] 86 WESTERN CHARA CTERS. rying them in its horrible talons to inaccessible cliffs and mountains; and of the scorching heat, which would wither him like a dry leaf. "I thanked them kindly," says the resolute but gentle father, "for their good counsel; but I told them that I could not profit by it, since the salvation of souls was at stake, for which object I would be overjoyed to give my life." Sha- king them by the hand, one by one, as they ap- proached to bid him farewell, as they thought, for the last time, he turned his back upon safety and peace, and departed upon his self-denying pilgrimage. Let him who Sits at ease in his cushioned pew at home -let him who lounges on his vel- vet-covered sofa in the pulpit, while his well- taught choir are singing; who rises as the strains are dying, and kneels upon a cushioned stool to pray; who treads upon soft carpets while he preaches, in a white cravat, to con- gregations clad in broadcloth, silk, and satin -let him pause and ponder on the difference between his works, his trials, his zeal--ay, and his glory, both of earth and heaven! and those of Father James Marquette! were visible on the cliffs above Alton, Illinois. To these im- ages, when passing if their canoes, the Indians were accus- tomed to make offerings of maize, tobacco, and gunpowder. They are now quite obliterated. i THE VOYAGEUR. 87 The little party went upon their way; the persuasions of their simple-hearted friends could not prevail, for the path of duty was before them, and the eye of God above. Having passed through Green Bay, and painfully dragged their canoes over the rapids of Fox river, they reached a considerable village, in- habited by the united tribes of Kickapoos, Mi- amis, and Mascoutimes. Here they halted for a time, as the mariner, about to prove the dan- gers of a long voyage, lingers for a day in the last port he is likely to enter for many months. Beyond this point no white man had ever gone; and here, if anywhere, the impulses of a natural fear should have made themselves felt. But we hear of no hesitation, no shrink- ing from the-perilous task; and we know from the unpretending "Journal" of the good father, that a retreat, nay, even a halt-longer than was necessary to recruit exhausted strength, and renew the memory of former lessons among the natives --was never thought of. "My compan- ion," said Marquette, referring to Joliet, "is an envoy from the king, of France, and I am an humble minister of God. I have no fear, be- cause I shall consider it the highest happiness to die in the service of my master!"There was no bravado in this, for, unlike many from page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] 88 WESTERN CHARACTERS. whom you ,may, any day, hear the same decla. ration, he set forth immediately to encounter the perils of his embassy. The Indians, unable to prevail with him to abandon the enterprise, made all their simple provision for his comfort; and, furnishing him with guides and carriers across the portage to the Wisconsin river, parted with him as one bound for eternity. Having brought them safely to the river, the guides left them " alone in that unknown country, in the hand of God ;" and, trusting to the protection of that hand, they set out-- upon their journey down the stream.* Seven days after, " with inexpres- sible joy," they emerged upon the bosom of the great river. During all this time they had seen no human being, though,- probably, many a wandering, savage had watched them from the covert of the bank, as they floated silently between the forests. It was an unbro- ken solitude, where the ripple of their paddles sounded loudly on the ear, and their voices, subdued by the stillness, were sent back in lonely echoes from the shore. They were the first white men who ever floated on the bosom of that mighty river-- June 10, 1673. t 1 mean, of course, the upper Mississippi; for De Soto had -' .\ THE VOYAGEUR. 89 "the envoy from the king of France, and the embassador of the King of kings.'t' What were their thoughts we know not, but from Mar- quette's simple "Journal ;" for, in returning to Quebec, Joliet's boat was wrecked in sight of the city, and all his papers lost." Of the Sieur himself, we know nothing, save as the compan- ion of Marquette on this voyage; but from this alone his fame is imperishable. They sailed slowly down the river, keeping a constant outlook upon the banks for signs of those for whose spiritual welfare the good fa- ther had undertaken his perilous journey. [But for more than sixty leagues not a human form or habitation could be seen. They had leisure, more than they desired, to admire the grand and beautiful scenery of that picturesque re- gion. In some places the cliffs rose perpen- dicularly for hundreds oA feet from the water's edge; and nodding over their brows, and towering against the sky, were stately pines and cedars of the growth of centuries. Here, reached it lower down one hundred and thirty-two years be- fore. * It was announced, some months since, that our minister at Rome, Mr. Cass, had made discoveries in that city which threw more light upon this expedition. But how this can be, con- sistently with the fact stated in the text (about which there is no doubt), I am at a loss to divine. page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] 90 WESTERN CHARACTERS. there lay between the river and the cliffs, a level prairie, waving in all the luxuriance of "the leafy month of June ;" while beyond, the bluffs, enclosing the natural garden, softened by the distance, and clothed in evergreen, seemed but an extension of the primitive sa- vanna. Here, a dense, primeval forest grew quite down to the margin of the water; and, hanging from the topmost branches of the giant oaks, festoons of gray and graceful moss lay floating on the rippled surface, or dipped within the tide. Here, the large, smooth roots of trees half undermined, presented seats and foot- holds, where the pleasant shade invited them to rest, and shelter from the sultry summer sun. Anon, an oven prairie, with no cliff or bluff beyond, extended, undulating from the river, until the eye, in straining to measure its extent, was wearied by the effort, and the plain be- came a waving sea of rainbow colors; of green and yellow, gold and purple. Again, they passed a gravelly beach, on which the yellow sand was studded with a thousand sets of bril- liant shells, and little rivulets flowed in from level prairies, or stealthily crept out from un- der roots of trees or tangled vines, and hastened to be hidden ir the bosom of the great father - of waters. THE VOYAGEUR. 91 They floated on, through the dewy morning hours, when the leaves were shining in the sun- light, and the birds were singing joyously; be- fore the summer heat had dried the moisture, or had- forced the feathered songsters to the shade. At noon, when the silence made the solitude oppressive; when the leaves hung wilting down, nor fluttered in the fainting wind: when the prairies were no longer wa- ving like the sea, but trembling like the atmo- sphere around a heated furnace: when the mi- rage hung upon the plain: tall trees were seen growing in the air, and among them stalked the deer, and elk, and buffalo: while between them and the ground, the brazen sky was glow- ing with the sun of June: when nothing living could be seen, save when the voyageur's ap- proach would startle some wild beast slaking his thirst in the cool river, or a flock of water- fowl were driven from their covert, where the willow branches, drooping, dipped their leaves of silvery gray within the water. They floated on till evening, when the sun approached the prairie, and his broad, round disc, now shorn of its dazzling beams, defined itself against the sky and grew florid in the gathering haze: when .the birds began to reappear, and flitted noiselessly among the trees, in' busy prepara- page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] 'ESTERS CHARACTERS. tion for the night: when beasts of prey crept, out from lurking-places, where they had dozed and panted through the hours of noon: when the wilderness grew vocal with the mingled sounds of lowing buffalo, and screaming pan- ther, and howling wolf; until the shadows rose from earth, and travelled from the east; until the dew began to fall, the stars came out, and night brought rest and dreams of home! Thus they floated on, "from morn till dewy eve," and still n6 sign of human life, neither habitation nor footprint, until one day-it was the twenty-fifth of June, more than two weeks since they had entered the wilderness-in gliding past a sandy beach, they recognised the impress of a naked foot! Following it for some distance, it grew into a trail, and then a path, once more a place where human beings habitually walked. Whose feet had trodden down the grass, what strange people lived on the prairies, they knew not, what dangers might await them, they cared not. These were the people whom the good father had come so far to convert and save! And now, again, one might expect some natural hesitation; some doubt in .venturing among those who were certainly barbarians, and who might, for aught they knew, be brutal canni- THE- VOTALGEtT. 9 bals. We could forgive a little wavering, in- deed, especially when we think of the frightful stories told them by the Northern Indians of this very people. But fear was not a part of these men's nature; or if it existed, it lay so deep, buried beneath religious zeal and pious trust, that its voice never reached the upper air. Leaving the boatmen with the canoes, near the mouth of: the river now called Des Moines, Marquette and Joliet set out alone, to follow up the trail, and seek the people who had made it. It led them to an open prairie, one of the most beautiful in the present state of Iowa, and crossing this, a distance of six miles, they at last found themselves in the vicinity of three Indian villages. The very spot* where the chief of these stood might now be easily found, so clear, though brief, is the description of the simple priest. It stood at the foot of a long slope, on the bank of the river Moingona (or Des Moines), about six miles due west of the Mississippi; and at the top of the rise, at the distance of half a lbague, were built *The place of Marquette's landing -which should be clas- sic ground-from his description of the country, and the dis- tance he specifies, could not have been far from the spot where ' the city of Keokuk now stands, a short distance above the mouth of the Des Moines. The locality should, if possible, be determined. page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] BleTKl CTHAB AOTfS the two others. "We commended ourselves unto God," writes the gentle father; for they knew not at what moment they might need his intervention; and crying out with a loud voice, to announce their approach, they calmly ad- vanced toward the group of lodges. At a short distance from the entrance to the village, they were met by a deputation of four old men, who, to their great joy, they perceived bore a richly- ornamented pipe of peace, the emblem of friend- ship and hospitality. Tendering the mysterious calumet, they informed the Frenchmen that they belonged to one of the tribes called "Illi- nois" (or "Men"), and invited them to enter their lodges in peace: an invitation which the weary vogageurs were but too glad to accept. A great council was held, with all the rude but imposing ceremonies of the grave and dig- nified Indian; and before the assembled chiefs and braves, Marquette published his mission from his heavenly Master. Passing, then, from spiritual to temporal things- for we do not hear of any address from Joliet, who probably was no orator - he spoke of his earthly king, and of his viceroy in New France; of his vic- tories over the Iroquois, the dreaded enemies. of the peaceful Western tribes; and then made many inquiries about the Mississippi, its tribu- taries, and the fations who dwelt upon their banks. His advances were kindly received, his questions frankly answered,' and the council broke up with mutual assurances of good-will. Then ensued the customary festival. Homminy, fish, buffalo, and dog-meat, were successively served up, like the courses of a more modern table; but of the last " we declined to partake," writes the good father, no doubt much to tho astonishment and somewhat to the chagrin of their hospitable friends; for even yet, among the western Indians, dog-meat is a dish of honor. Six days of friendly intercourse passed pleas- antly away, diversified by many efforts on the part of Marquette to instruct and convert the docile savages. Nor were these entirely with- out result; they excited, at least, the wish- to hear more; and on his departure they crowded round him, and urgently requested him to come again among them. He promised to do so, a pledge which he afterward redeemed. ]But now he could not tarry; he was bent upon his hazardous voyage down the Great River, and he knew that he was only on the threshold of his grand discoveries. Six hundred warriors, commanded by their most distinguished chief, accompanied him back to his boats; and, after hanging around his neck the great calumet, to page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] A- - 96 W swEgfN OHABAOTERS. protect him among the hostile nations of the south, they parted with him', praying that the Great Spirit, of whom he had told them, might give him a prosperous voyage, and a speedy and safe return. These were the first of the nations of the Mississippi Valley visited by the French, and it is from them that the state of Illinois takes its name. They were a singularly gentle people; and a nature originally peaceful had been ren- dered almost timid by the cruel inroads of the murderous Iroquois.* These, by their traffic with the Dutch and English of New-York, and by their long warfare with the French of Cana- da, had acqtuired the use of fire-arms, and, of course, possessed an immense advantage over those who were armed only with the primitive bow and arrow. The restless and ambitious spirit of the singular confederacy, usually call- ed the Five Nations, and known among their neighbors by the collective name of Iroquois, had carried their incursions even as far as the hunting-grounds of the Shawanese, about * It was by virtue of a treaty of purchase - signed at Fort Stanwix on the Bth of November, 1768-- with the Six Nations, who claimed the country as their conquest that the British as- serted a title to the country west of the Alleghanies, Western Virginia, Kentucky, etc. ')1 THE VOYAGEtiM. 97 the mouth of the Ohio; and their successes had made them a terror to all the western tribes. ,The Illinois, therefore, knowing the French to be at war with these formidable ene- mies, were the more anxious to form an alliance with them; and the native gentleness of their manners was, perhaps, increased by the hope of assistance and protection. But, whatever motives may have influenced them, besides their natural character, their forethought was of vital service to the wanderers in the countries of the south, whither they proceeded. The little party of seven resumed their voy- age on the last day of June, and floating with the rapid current, a few days afterward passed the -rocks, above the site of Alton, where was painted the image of the ravenous Piasauz, of which they had been told by the Northern In- dians, and on the same day reached the mouth of the Pekitanoni, the Indian name for the rapid and turbulent Missouri. Inwardly resolv- ing, at some future time, to ascend its muddy current, to cross the riAge beyond, and, de- scending some river which falls into the Great South sea (as the Pacific was then called), to publish the gospel to all the people of the con- tinent, the zealous father passed onward toward the south. Coasting slowly along the wasting *5 page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] 98 WESTERN CHARXCTERS. shore, lingering in the mouths of rivers, or ex- ploring dense forests in the hope of meeting the natives, they continued on their course until they reached the mouth of a river which they called the Ouabache, or Wabash, none other than the beautiful Ohio.* Here they found the advanced settlement of Shawanese, who had been pushed toward the southwest by the in- cessant attacks of the Iroquois. But by this time, fired with the hope of ascertaining the outlet of the Mississippi, they postponed their visit to these people until their- return, and floated on. It is amusing, as well as instructive, to observe how little importance the travellers gave to the river Ohio, in their geographical assumptions. In the map published by Marquette with his "Journal," the "OztaUsquigo-u," as he denomi- nates it, in euphonious French-Indian, com- pared to the Illinois or even to the Wisconsin, is but an inconsiderable rivulet! The lonely *The geographical mistakes of the early French explorers have led to some singular discussions about Western history - have even been used by diplomatists to support or weaken territorial claims. Such, for example, is the question concern- ing the, antiquity of Vincennes, a controversy founded on the mistake noticed in the text. Vide Western Annals. 2d Ed. Revised by J. M. Peek. THE VOYAGEUR. 99 wanderers were much farther from the English settlements than they supposed; a mistake: into which they must have been led, by hearing of the incursions of the Iroquois; for even at .that early day they could not but know that the head-waters of the Ohio were not distant from the hunting-grounds of that warlike confeder- acy. Even this explanation, however, scarcely lessens our wonder that they should have known so little of courses and distances; for had this river been as short as it is here delineated, they would have been within four- hundred miles of Montreal. o After leaving the Ohio, they suffered much from the climate and its incidents; for they were now approaching, in the middle of July, a region of perpetual summer. Mosquitoes and other venomous insects (in that region we might even call them ravenous insects) became intolerably annoying; and the voyageurs began to think they had reached the country of the terrible heats, which; as they had been warned in the north, " would wither them up like a dry leaf." But the prospect of death by torture and savage cruelty had not daunted them, and they were not. now disposed to be turned back by any excess of climate. Arranging their sails in the form of awnings to protect them from page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] To 100 WESTERN CHARACTERS. the sun by day and the dews by night, they resolutely pursued their way. Following the course of the river, they soon l entered the region of cane-brakes, so thick that no animal larger than a; cat could penetrate them; and of cotton-wood forests of immense size and of unparalleled density. They were far beyond the limits of every Indian dialect with which they had become acquainted- were, in fact, approaching the region visited by De Soto, on his famous expedition in search of Juan Ponce de Leon's fountain of youth.* The country was possessed by the Sioux and Chickasaws, to whom the voyageurs were total strangers; but they went on without fear. In the neighborhood of the southern boundary of the present state of Arkansas, they were met in hostile array by great numbers of the na- tives, who approached them in large canoes -made from the trunks of hollow trees. But Marquette held aloft the symbol of peace, the ornamented calumet, and the hearts of the sav- ages were melted, as the pious father believed, by the touch of God. They threw aside their * In 1541, De Soto crossed the Mississippi about the thirty- fifth parallel of latitude, or near the northern boundary of the state of that name. It is not certain how far below this Mar- quette went, though we are safe in saying that he did not turn back north of that limit. / THE VOYAGEUR. 101 weapon and received the strangers with rude but hearty hospitality. They escorted them, with many demonstrations of welcome, to the village of Michigamia; and, on the following day, having feasted their strange guests plenti- fully, though not with the unsavory meats of the Tllinois, they marched in triumphal procession to the metropolis of Akansea, about ten leagues distant, down the river. This was the limit of their voyage. Here they ascertained, beyond a doubt, that the Mis- sissippi flowed into the gulf of Mexico, and not, as had been conjectured, into the great South sea. Here they found the natives armed with axes of steel, a proof of their traffic with the Spaniards; and thus was the circle of discovery complete, connecting the explorations of the French with those of the Spanish, and entirely enclosing the possessions of the English. No voyage so important has since been under- taken-no results so great have ever been produced by so feeble an expedition. The discoveries of Marquette, followed by the en- terprises of La Salle and his successors, have influenced the destinies of nations; and passing over all political speculations, this exploration first threw open a valley of greater extent, fer- page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] 1t0 WESTERN CHARACTES. tility, and commercial advantages, th'an any other in the world. Had either the French or the Spanish possessed the stubborn qualities which hold, as they had the useful which dis- cover, the- aspect of this continent wouild, at this day, have been far different. On the seventeenth of July, having preached to the Indians the glory of God and the Catho- lic faith, and proclaimed the power of the Grand -lonarzue- for still we hear nothing of speech-making or delivering credentials on the part' of Joliet-he set out on his return. After severe and wasting toil for many days, they reached a point, as Marquette supposed, some leagues below the mouth of the Moin- gona, or Des Moines. Here they left the Mis- sissippi, and crossed the country between that river and the Tllinois, probably passing through the very country which now bears the good fa- ther's name, entering the latter stream at a point not far from the -present town of Peoria. Proceeding slowly up that calm river, preach- ing to the tribes along its banks, and partaking of their hospitality, he was at last conducted to Lake Michigan, at Chicago, and by the end of September was safe again in Green Bay, having travelled, since the tenth of June, more thaa three thousand miles. THE VOYAGEUR. 103 It might have 'been expected that one who had made so magnificent a discovery-who had braved so much and endured so much- would wish to announce in person, to the au- thorities in Canada, or in France, the results of his expedition. Nay, it would not have been unpardonable had he desired to enjoy, after his labors, something of the consideration to which their success entitled him. And, cer- tainly, no man could ever have approached his rulers with a better claim upon their notice than could the unpretending voya'geur. But vain- glory was no more a part of his nature, than was fear. The unaspiring priest remained at Green Bay, to continue, or rather to resume, as a task laid aside only for a time, his ministra- tions to the savages. Joliet hastened on to Quebec to report the expedition, and Mar- quette returned to Chicago, for the purpose of preaching the gospel to the Miami confederacy; several allied tribes who occupied the country between Lake Michigan and the Des Moines river. Here agan he visited the Illinois, speaking to them of God, and of the religion of Jesus; thus redeeming a promise which he had made them, when on his expedition to the South. But his useful, unambitious life was drawing page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] 104 WESTERN CaBAnTEBS. to a close. Let us describe its last scene in the words of our accomplished historian:- "Two years afterward, sailing from Chicago to Mdackinac, he entered a little river in Michi- gan. Erecting an altar, he said mass, after the rites of the Catholic church; then, begging the men who conducted his canoe to leave him alone for a half hour, -- ' In the darkling wood, Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the mightiest solemn thanks And supplication.' At the end of the half hour they went to seek him, and he was no more. The good mission- ary, discoverer of a world, had fallen asleep on the margin of the stream that bears his name. Near its mouth, the canoe-men dug his grave in the sand. Ever after, the forest rangers, in their danger on Lake Michigan, would invoke his name. The people of the West will build his monument."* The monument is not yet built; though the name of new counties in several of our western states testifies that the noble missionary is not altogether forgotten, in the land where he spent so many self-denying years. * Bancroft's History of the United States, vol. iii., p. 161, et seg., where the reader may look for most of these dates THE VOYAGEUR. 105 Such was the voyageur priest; the first, in chronological order, .of the succession of singu- lar men who have explored and peopled the great West. And though many who have fol- lowed him have been his equals in courage and endurance, none have ever possessed the same- combination of heroic and unselfish qualities. It ought not to be true that this brief and cur- sory sketch is the first distinct tribute yet paid to his virtues; for no worthier subject ever em- ployed the pen of the poet or historian. NoTE.--Struck with the fact that the history of 'this class of men, and of 'their enterprises and sufferings, has', never been written, except by themselves in their simple "Journals" and "Relations" -for the resume given of these by Sparks, Ban- croft, and others, is of necessity a mere unsatisfactory abstract --the writer has for some time been engaged in collecting and arranging materials, with the intention of supplying the want. The authorities are numerous and widely scattered; and such a work ought to be thoroughly and carefully written, so that much time and labor lies between the author and his day of publication. Should he be spared, however, to finish the work, he hopes to present a picture of a class of men, displaying as much of (rue devotion, genuine courage, and self-denial, in the humble walk of the missionary, as the pages of history show in any other department of human enterprise. 5* i . / page: 106 (Illustration) [View Page 106 (Illustration) ] "I. TAE PIONSEER. Ihear the tread, of pionters, Of nations yet to be- 'The first low wash of waves where soon Shallroll a human sea." - - - WHTTmI. The axe rang sharply 'mid those forest shades - '. Which, from-creation, toward the sky had towered 1 s : In unhoorn beauty." -Ym , in :hronlolgical order, after the mis slonary, eame the military adventurer ,of which :cass La Salle was the best representa- 'tive. -Bt:-B the expeditions led by these "men were, for the most part; wild and visiponary en- terprises, in pursrit of uniattainable ends. They were,. moreover, unskilffthy managed and. un- fortunately terminated-generally ending in the defeat,; disappointment, and death of those who had set them on foot. They left no per- manent impress upon the country; the most -- - , .. . .i :i :'"- , - --h . 'I'H "1 )NEER page: -107[View Page -107] r \ t a F THE PIONEER. 107 acute moral or political vision can not now de- tect a trace of their influence, in' the aspect of the lands they penetrated; and, so far from hastening the settlement of the Great Valley, it is more probable that their disastrous failures rather retarded it -by deterring others from the undertaking. Their history reads like a romance; and their characters would better' grace the pages of fiction, than the annals of civilization. Further than this brief reference, therefore, I find no place for them, in a work which aims only to notice those who either aid- ed to produce, or indicated, the characteristics of the society in which they lived. Soon after them, came the Indian-traders- to whose generosity so many of the captives, taken by the natives in those early times, were indebted for their ransom. But-not- withstanding occasional acts of charity--their unscrupulous rapacity, and, particularly, their introduction of spirituous liquors among the savages, furnish good reason to doubt, whether, on the whole, they- did anything to advance the civilization of the lands and people they visit- ed. And, as we shall have occasion to refer again, though briefly, to the character in a sub- sequent article, we will pass over it for the pres- ent, and hasten on to the Pioneer. page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] 108 . WESTERN CHARACTERS. Of this class, there are two sub-divisions: the floating, transitory, and erratic frontierman-- including' the hunter, the trapper, the scout and Indian-fighter: men who can not be consid- ered citizens of any country, but keep always a little in advance of permanent emigration. With this division of the class, we have little to do: first, because they are already well understood,- by most readers in this country, through the earlier novels of Cooper, their great delineator; and, second, because, as we have intimated, our business is chiefly with those, whose footprints have been stamped upon the country, and whose influence is traceable in its civilization. -We, therefore, now desire to direct attention to the other sub-division - the genuine " settler;' the firm, unflinching, permanent emigrant, who entered the country to till the land and to pos- sess it, for himself and his descendants. And, in the first place, let us inquire what motives could induce men to leave regions, where the axe had been at work for many years-- where the land was reduced to culti- vation, and the forest reclaimed from the wild beast and the wilder savage--where civiliza- tion had begun to exert its power, and society had assumed a legal and determined shape-- to depart from all these things, seeking a new THE PIONEER. 109 home in an inhospitable wilderness, where they could only gain a footing by% severe labor, con- stant strife, and sleepless vigilance? To be capable of doing all this, from any motive, a man must be a strange compound of qualities; but that comnpound, strange as it is, has done, and is doing, more to reclaim the west, and change the wilderness into a garden, than all other causes combined. A prominent trait in the character of the genuine American, is the desire "to better his condition"--a peculiarity which sometimes embodies itself in the disposition to forget the good old maxim, "Let well-enough alone," and not unfrequently leads to disaster and suffer- ing. A thorough Yankee-using that word as the English do, to indicate national, not sec- tional, character-is never satisfied with doing well; he always underrates his gains and his successes; and, though to others he may be boastful enough, and may, even truly, rate the profits of his enterprise by long strings of "naught," he is always whispering to himself, "I ought to do better." If he sees any one accumulating property faster than himself, he becomes emulous and discontented - he is apt to think, unless he goes more rapidly than any to thin 1 Iv page: 110-111[View Page 110-111] "O WESTEfN CHARACTERSB one else, that he is not moving at all. If he can find no one of his neighbors advancing toward fortune, with longer strides than he, he will imagine some successful " speculator," to whom he will compare himself, and chafe at his inferiority to a figment of his own fancy. If he possessed " a million a minute," he would cast about for some profitable employment, in which he might engage, i" to pay expenses." He will abandon a silver-mine, of slow, but cer- tain gains, for the gambling chances of a gold "placer;" and if any one within his knowledge dig out more wealth than he, he will leave the "diggings," though his success be quite en- couraging, and go quixoting among the islands of the sea, in search of pearls and diamonds. -With -the prospect of improvement in his for- tunes - whether that prospect be founded upon reason, be a naked fancy, or the offspring of mere discontent-he regards no danger, cares for no hardship, counts no suffering. Every- thing must bend before the ruling passion, " to better his condition." I His spirit is eminently encroaching. Rather than give up any of his own " rightsf' he will ( take a part of what belongs to others. What- ever he thinks necessary to his welfare, to that he believes himself . entitled. To whatever THE PIONEEr. 1" point he desires to reach, he takes the straight- est course, even though the way lie across the corner of his neighbor's field. Yet he is in- tensely jealous of his own possessions, and warns off all trespassers with an imperial men- ace of " the utmost penalty of the law." He has, of course, an excellent opinion of himself -and justly: for when not blinded by cupid- ity or vexed by opposition, no man can hold the scales of justice with a more even hand. Hie is seldom conscious of having done a wrong: for he rarely moves until he has ascer- tained " both the propriety and expediency of the motion." He has, therefore, an instinctive aversion to all retractions and apologies. He has such a proclivity to the forward movement, that its opposite, even when truth and justice demand it, is stigmatized, in his vocabulary, by odious and ridiculous comparisons. He is very stubborn, and, it is feared, sometimes mis- takes his obstinacy for firmness. -He thinks a safe retreat worse than a defeat with slaughter. Yet he never rests under a reverse, and, though, manifestly prostrate, will never acknowledge that he is beaten. A check enrages him more than a decided failure: for so long as his end is not accomplished, nor defeated, he can see no reason why he should not succeed. If his forces page: 112-113[View Page 112-113] "2 WESTERN CHARACTERS. are driven back, shattered and destroyed, he is not cast down, but angry - he forthwith swears vengeance and another trial. He is quite in- satiable-- as a failure does not dampen him, success can never satisfy him. His plans are always on a great scale ; and, if they sometimes exceed his means of execution, at least, "he who aims at the sun," though he may lose his arrow, i will not strike the ground." He is a great projector-but he is eminently practi- cal, as well as theoretical; and if he cannot realize his visions, no other man need try. He is restless and migratory. He is fond of change, for the sake of the change; and he will' have it, though it bring him only new labors and new hardships. He is, withal, a little sel- fish-as might be supposed. He begins to lose his attachment to the advantages of 'his home, so soon as they are shared by others. He does not like near neighbors-has no affec- tion for the soil; he will leave a place on which he has expended much time and labor, as soon as the region grows to be a "settlement." Even, in a town, he is dissatisfied if his next neighbor lives so near that the women can gossip across the division-fence. He likes to be at least one day's journey from the nearest plantation. THE PIOSIL. 113 I once heard an old pioneer assign as a rea- son why he must emigrate from western Illi- nois, the fact that' people were %ettling right under his nose"--and the farm of his nearest neighbor was twelve miles distant, by the sec- tion lines! He moved on to Missouri, but there the same " impertinence" of emigrants soon fol- lowed him; and, abandoning his half-finished "clearing," he packed his family and house- hold goods in a little wagon, and retreated, across the plains to Oregon. He is-or was, two years ago-living in the valley of the Willamette, where, doubtless, he is now cha- fing under the affliction of having neighbors in the same region, and nothing but an ocean be- yond. His character seems to be hard-featured. But he is neither unsocial, nor morose. He welcomes the stranger as heartily as the most hospitable patriarch. He receives the sojourn- er at his fireside without question. He regales him with the best the house affords: is always anxious to have him " stay another day." He cares for his horse, renews his harness, laughs at his stories, and exchanges romances with him. He hunts with him; fishes, rides, walks, talks, eats, and drinks with him. His wife washes and mends the stranger's shirts,'and lends him page: 114-115[View Page 114-115] "4 WESTERN CHARACTERS. a needle and thread to sew a button on his- only pair of pantaloons. The children sit on his knee, the dog lies at his feet, and accom- panies him into the woods. The whole family are his friends, and only grow cold and distant when they learn that he is looking for land, and thinks of " settling" within a few leagues. If nothing of the sort occurs-and this only "Ieaks out" by accident, for the pioneer never pries inquisitively into the business of hisguest, he keeps him as long as he can; and when he can stay no longer, fills his saddle-bags with flitches of bacon and " pones" of corn-bread, shakes him heartily by the hand, exacts a promise to stop again on his return, and bids him ," God-speed" on his journey. Such is American character, in, the manifes- tations which have most affected the settlement and development of the West; a compound of many noble qualities, with a few and no na- tion is without such -that are not quite so re- spectable. All these, both good and bad, were possessed by the early pioneer in an eminent, sometimes in an extravagant degree; and the circumstances, by which he found himself sur- rounded after his emigration to the West, tended forcibly to their exaggeration. VEE PIONXlfitli 115 But the qualities-- positive and negative- above enumerated, were, many of them, at least, peculiarities belonging to the early emi- grant, as much before as after his removal. And there were others, quite as distinctly marked, called into activity, if not actually created by his life in the wilderness. Such, for example, was his self-reliance-his con- fidence in his own strength, sagacity, and cour- age. It was but little assistance that he ever required from his neighbors, though no man was ever more willing to render it to others, in the hour of need. He was the swift avenger of his own wrongs, and he never appealed to another to ascertain his rights. Legal tribu- nals were an abomination to him. Government functionaries he hated, almost as the Irish hate excisemen. Assessments and taxes he could not endure, for, since he was his own protector, he had no interest in sustaining the civil author- ities. Military organizations he despised, for sub- l ordination was no part of his nature. He stood { up in the native dignity of manhood, and called no mortal his superior. When he joined his' neighbors, to avenge a foray of the savages, he joined on the most equal terms - each man was, for the time,/his own captain; and when page: 116-117[View Page 116-117] 116 WESTRN CHAB CTERS. the leader was chosen- for the pioneers, with all their personal independence, were far too rational to underrate the advantages of a head in the hour of danger--each voice was counted in tjt choice, and the election might fall on any one. But, even after such organization, every man was fully at liberty to abandon the expedition, whenever he became dissatisfied, or thought proper to return home. And if this want of discipline sometimes impaired the strength, and rendered unavailing the efforts, of communities, it at least fostered the manly spirit of personal independence; and, to keep that alive in the breasts of a people, it is worth while to pay a yearly tribute, even though that tribute be rendered unto the King of Terrors I This self-reliance was not an arrogant and vulgar egotism, as it has been so often repre- sented in western stories, and the tours of super- ficial travellers. It was a calm, just estimate of his own capabilities -a well-grounded con- fidence in his own talents--a clear, manly understanding of his- own individual rights, dig- nity, and relations. Such is the-western defini- tion of independence; and if there be anything of it in the western character at the present day, it is due to the stubborn and intense individu- ality of the first pioneer. He it was who laid THE PIONEER. the foundation of our social fabric, and it is his spirit which yet pervades our people. The quality which next appears, in analyzing this character, is his courage. It was not mere physical courage, nor was it stolid carelessness of danger. The pioneer knew, perfectly well, the full extent of the peril that surrounded him; indeed, he could not be ignorant of it; for almost everyjday brought some new memento, either of his sav- age foe, or of the prowling beast of prey. He ploughed, and sowed, and reaped, and gathered, with the rifle slung over his shoulders; and, at every turn, he halted, listening, with his ear turned toward his home; for well he knew that, any moment, the scream of his wife, or the wail of his children, might tell of the up- lifted tomahawk, or the murderous scalping- knife. His courage, then, was not ignorance of dan- ger-not that of the child, which thrusts its hand within the lion's jaws, and knows naught of the penalty it braves. His ear was ever listening, his eye was always watching, /his nerves were ever strung, for battle. He was stout of heart, and strong of hand -he was calm, sagacious, unterrified. He was never page: 118-119[View Page 118-119] "a WESTrBB CHArAOTteS. disconcerted- excitement seldom moved him -his mind was always at its own command. His heart never lost its firmness-no suffering could overcome him -he was as stoical as the savage, whose greatest glory is to triumph amidst the most cruel tortures. His pride sus- tained him when his flesh was pierced with burning brands--when his muscles crisped and crackled in the flames. To the force of character, belonging to the white, he added the savage virtues of the red man; and many a captive has been rescued from the flames, through his stern contempt for torture, and his sneering triumph over his tormentors. The highest virtue of the savage was his fortitude; and he respected and admired even a "pale face," who emulated his endurance. But fortitude is only passive courage--and the bravery of the pioneer was eminently ac- tive. His vengeance was as rapid as it was sometimes cruel. No odds against him could deter him, no time was ever wasted in delibera- tion. If a depredation was committed in the night, the dawn of morning found the sufferer on the trail of the marauder. He would follow it for days, and even weeks, with the sagacity of the blood-hound, with the patience of the savage: and, perhaps, in the very midst of the THE PONEER. 119 Indian country, in some moment of security, the blow descended, and the injury was fear- fully avenged! The debt was never suffered to accumulate, when it could be discharged by prompt payment - and it was never forgotten'! If the account could not be balanced now, the obligation was treasured up for a time to come - and, when least expected, the debtor came, and paid with usury! It has been said, perhaps truly, that a fierce, bloody spirit ruled the settlers in those early a days. And it is unquestionable, that much of that contempt for the slow vengeance of a legal proceeding, which now distinguishes the peo- ple of the frontier west, originated then. It was, doubtless, an unforgiving -eminently an unchristian-spirit: but vengeance, sure and swift, was the only thing which could impress the hostile savage. And, if example, in a mat- ter of this sort, could be availing, for their severity to the Indians, they had the highest! The eastern colonists-good men and true -" willing to exterminate the savages," says Bancroft,* who is certainly not their enemy, offered a bounty for every Indian scalp -as * History of the United States, vol. iii, p. 336. Enacted in Massachusetts page: 120-121[View Page 120-121] 120 'WESTERN CHARACTERS. we, in the west, do for the scalps of wolves! "To -regular forces under pay, the grant was ten pounds-to volunteers, in actual service, twice that sum; but if men would, of them- selves, without pay, make up parties and patrol the forests in search of Indians, as of old the woods were scoured for wild beasts, the chase was invigorated by the promised " encourage- ment of fifty pounds per scalp!"' The " fruit- less cruelties" of the Indian allies of the French in Canada, says the historian, gave birth to these humane and nicely-graduated enactments! Nor is our admiration of their Christian spirit in the least diminished, when we reflect that nothing is recorded in history of " bounties on scalps" or " encouragement" to murder, offered by Frontenac, or any other'French-Canadian gov- ernor, as a revenge for the horrible massacre at Montreal, or 'the many " fruitless cruelties" of the bloody Iroquois!* The descendants of the men who gave these "bounties" and "encouragements-" have, in our own day, caressed, and wept and lamented over the tawny murderer, Black-Hawk, and his "wrongs" and " misfortunes ;"' but the theatre * A detailed and somewhat tedious, account of these savage inroads, may be found in Warburton's Conquest of Canada published by Harpers. New-York. 1850. THE PIONEER. 121 of Indian warfare was then removed a little farther west; and the atrocities of Haverhill and Deerfield were perpetrated on the western prairies, and not amid the forests of the east! Yet I do not mean, by referring to this passagh of history-or to the rivers of wasted senti- ment poured out a few years ago -so much to condemn our-forefathers, or to draw invidious comparisons between them and others, as to show, that the war of extermination, sometimes waged by western rangers, was not without ex- ample - that the cruelty and hatred of the pio- neer to the barbarous Indian, might originate in exasperation, which even moved the puri- tans; and that the lamentations, over the ficti- tious " wrongs" of a turbulent and bloody sav- age, might have run in a channel nearer home. Hatred of the Indian,-among the pioneers, was hereditary; there was scarcely a man on the frontier, who had not lost a father, a moth- er, or a brother, by the tomahawk; and not a few of them had suffered in their own persons.. The child, who learned the rudiments of his scanty education at his mother's knee, must decipher the strange characters by the strag- gling light which penetrated the crevices be- tween the logs; for, while the father was ab- 6 page: 122-123[View Page 122-123] 122 WESTERN CHARAOTERS. sent, in the field or on the war-path, the mother was obliged to bar the doors and barricade the windows against the savages. Thus, if he did not literally imbibe it with his mother's milk, one of the first things the pioneer learned, was dread, and consequently hatred, of the Indian. That feeling grew with his growth, strength- ened with his strength--for a life upon the western border left but few days free from sights of blood or mementoes of the savage. The pioneer might go to the field in the morning, unsuspecting; and, at noon, returning, find his wife murdered and scalped, and the brains of his little ones dashed out against his own door- post! And if a deadly hatred of the Indian took possession of his heart, who shall blame him? It may be said, the pioneer was an in- truder, seeking to take forcible possession of the Indian's lands--and that it was natural that the Indian should resent the wrong after the manner of his race. Granted: and it wasquite as natural that the pioneer should return the enmity, after the manner of his race! But the pioneer was not an intruder. - For all the purposes, for which reason and the order of Providence authorize us to say, God made the earth, this continent was vacant- uninhabited. And-granting that the savage THE PIONEER. 123 was in possession--for this is his only ground of title, as, indeed, it is the foundation of all primary title - there were at the period of the first landing of white men on the continent, be- tween Lake Superior and the Gulf of Mexico, east of the Mississippi, about one hundred and eighty thousand Indians.* That region now supports at least twenty millions of civilized people, and is capable of containing quite ten times that number, without crowding! -Now, if God made the earth for any purpose, it cer- tainly was not that it should be monopolized by a horde of nomad savages! Buit an argument on this subject, would not be worth ink and paper; and I am, moreover, awarej that this reasoning may be abused. Any attempt to construe the purposes of Deity must be liable to the same misapplication. And, besides, it is not my design to go so far back; I seek not so much to excuse as to ac- count for - less to justify than to analyze -the characteristics of the class before me. I wish to establish that the pioneer hatred of the In- dian was not an unprovoked or groundless hatred, that the severity of his warfare was not * This is the estimate of Bancroft--and, I think, at least; thirty thousand too liberal. If the number were doubled, however, it would not weaken the position in the text. page: 124-125[View Page 124-125] 124- vWasTers OHABRATERS. a mere gratuitous and bloody-minded cruelty. There are -a thousand actions, of which we are hearing every day, that are indefensible in morals: and yet we are conscious while we condemn the actors, that, in like circumstances, we could not have acted differently. So is it with the fierce and violent reprisals, sometimes made by frontier rangers. Their best defence lies in the statement that they were men, and that their manhood prompted them to ven- geance. When they deemed themselves in- jured, they demanded reparation, in such sort as that demand could then be made- at the muzzle of a rifle or the point of a knife. They were equal to the times in Which they lived.- Had they not been so, how many steamboats would now be floating on the Mississippi? There was no romance in the composition of the pioneer-whatever there may have been in his environment. His life was altogether too serious a matter for poetry, and the only music' he took pleasure in, wasthe sound of a violin, sending forth notes remarkable only for their liveliness. Even this, he could enjoy but at rare periods; when his cares were forcibly dismissed. He was, in truth, a very matter-of- fact sort of person. It was principally with THE PIONEER. 125 facts that he had to deal--and most of them were very "stubborn facts." Indeed, it may be doubted - notwithstanding much good poet- ry has been written (in cities chiefly), on soli- tude and the wilderness - whether a life in the woods is, after all, very suggestive of poetical thoughts. The perils of the frontier must bor- row most of their "enchantment" from the "distance;" and its sufferings and hardships are certainly more likely to evoke pleasant' fancies to him who sits beside a good coal fire, than to one whose lot it is to bear them. Even the (so-called) " varied imagery" of the Indian's eloquence-about which so much nonsense has been written - is, in a far greater measure, the result of the poverty and crude materialism of his language, than of any poetical bias, tem- perament, or tone of thought. An Indian, as we have said before, has no humor-he never understands a jest--his wife is a beast of bur- then--heaven is a hunting-ground--his lan- guage has no words to express abstract quali- ties, virtues, or sentiments. And yet he lives i in the wilderness all the days of his life! The only trait he has, in common with the poetical t; character, is his laziness. l But the pioneer was not indolent, in any ] sense. He had no dreaminess mrneditation / ^l page: 126-127[View Page 126-127] 126 WEST'iK' CSARACTERS. was no part of his mental habit--a poetical fancy would, in him, have been an indication of insanity. If he reclined at the foot of a tree, on a still summer day, it was to sleep: if he gazed out over the waving prairie, it was to search for the column of smoke which told of his enemy's approach: if he turned his eyes toward the blue heaven, it was to prognosticate ? to-morrow's storm or sunshine: if he bent his 'gaze upon the green earth, it was to look for : "Indian sign" or buffalo trail. His wife was only a help-mate--he never thought of making a di- vinity of her--she cooked his dinner, made and washed his clothes, bore his children, and took care of his household. His children were never "little cherubs,"-"angels sent from heaven"-but generally "tow-headed" and very earthly responsibilities, He looked for- ward anxiously, to the day when the boys should be able to assist him in the field, or fight the Indian, and the girls to help their mother make and mend. When one of the latter took it into her head to be married -as they usually did quite early in life; for beaux were plenty and belles were "scarce"--he only made one condition, that the man of her choice should be brave and healthy. He never made a " pa- rade" about anything-marriage, least of all. THE PIONEER. 127 He usually gave the bride - not the "blush- ing" bride--a bed, a lean horse, and some good advice: and, having thus discharged his : duty in the premises, returned to his work, and the business was done. i The marriage ceremony, in those days, was a- very unceremonious affair. The parade and drill which now attend it, would then have been as ridiculous as a Chinese dance; and the finery and ornament, at present understood to be indispensable on such occasions, then bore no sway in fashion. Bridal wreaths and dresses were not known; and white kid gloves and satin slippers never heard of. Orange blossoms - natural and artificial- were as prettv then as now; but the people were more occupied with substance, than with emblem. The ancients decked their victims for the sacrifice with gaudy colors, flags, and stream- ers; the moderns do the same, and the offer- ings are sometimes made to quite as barbarous deities. But the bride of the pioneer was clothed in linsey-wolsey, with hose of woollen yarn; and moccasins of deer-skin --or as an extra piece of finery, high-quartered shoes of calf-skin --pre- page: 128-129[View Page 128-129] 128 WESTERN CHARA'CU RS, ceded satin slippers. The bridegroom came in copperas-colored jeans - domestic manufacture -as a holiday suit; or, perhaps, a hunting- shirt of buckskin, all fringed around the skirt and cape, and a " coon-skin" cap, with mdcca- sins. Instead of a dainty walking-stick, with an opera-dancer's leg, in ivory, for head, hi al- ways brought his rifle, with a solid maple sto k; and never, during the whole ceremony, did he divest himself of powder-horn and bullet-pouch. Protestant ministers of the gospel were few in those days; and the words of form were usually spoken by a Jesuit missionary. Or, if the Pioneer had objections to Catholicism- as many had--his place was supplied by some 'justice of the peace, of doubtful powers and mythical appointment. If neither of these could be procured, the father of the bride, him- self, sometimes assumed the functions, pro hac mice, orpro tempore, of minister or justice. It f was always understood, however, that such i left-handed marriages were to be confirmed by the first minister who wandered to the frontier: and, even when the opportunity did not offer for many months, no scandal ever arose -the marriage vow was never broken. The pioneers were simple people-the refinements of high cultivation had not yet penetrated the forests THE PIONexa. 129 or crossed the prairies-and- good faith and virtue were as common as courage and sagacity. When the brief, but all-sufficient ceremony was over, the bridegroom resumed his rifle, helped the bride into the saddle--or more fre- quently to the pillion behind him - and they calmly rode away together. ) On some pleasant spot--surrounded by a shady grove, or point of timber-a new log-cabin has been built: its rough logs notched across each other at the corners, a roof of oaken clap- boards, held firmly down by long poles along each course, its floor of heavy " puncheons," its broad, cheerful fireplace, large as a modetl bed-room--all are in the higllest style of fron- tier architecture. Within- excepting some anomalies, such as putting the skillet and tea- kettle in the little cupboard, along with the blue-edged plates and yellow-figured fea-cups -for the whole has been arranged 'by the hands of the bridegroom himself--everything is neatly and properly disposed. The oaken bedstead, with low square posts, stands in one corner, and the bed is covered by a pure white counterpane, with fringe--an heirloom in the family of the bride. At the foot of this is seen 6* page: 130-131[View Page 130-131] 130 WESTERN CHARACTERS. a large, heavy chest-- like a camp-chesat- to serve for bureau, safe, and dressing-case. In the middle of the floor-directly above a trap-door which leads to a "potato-hole" be- neath-stands a ponderous walnut table, and on it sits a nest of wooden trays; while, flank- ing these, on one side, is a nicely-fdlded table- cloth, and, on the other, a wooden-handled butcher-knife and a well-worn Bible. Around the room are ranged a few "split-bottomed" chairs, exclusively for use, not ornament. In the chimney-corners, or under the table, are several three-legged stools, made for the chil- dren, who -as the bridegroom laughingly in- sinuates while he points to the uncouth speci- mens of his handiwork- -" will be coming in due time." The wife laughs in her turn'-re- plies, " no doubt"- and, taking one of the grace- ful tripods in her hand, carries it forth to sit upon while she milks the cow -for she understands what she is expected to do, and does it without delay. In one corner--near the fireplace- the aforesaid cupboard is erected--being a few oaken shelves neatly pinned to the logs with hickory forks-and in this are arranged the plates and cups; - not as the honest pride of the housewife would arrange them, to dis- play them to the best advantage--but piled THE PIONEEE. 131 away, one within another, without reference to show. As yet there is no sign of female taste or presence. But now the house receives its mistress. The "happy couple" ride up to the low rail-fence in front--the bride springs off without assist- ance, affectation, or delay. The husband leads away the horse or horses, and the wife enters the dominion, where, thenceforward, she is queen. There is no coyness, no blushing, no \ pretence of fright or nervousness --if you will, no romance -for which the husband has rea- son to be thankful! The wife knows what her , duties are and resolutely goes about performing them. She never dreamed, nor twaddled, about i "Iove in a cottage," or " the sweet communion of congenial souls" (who never eat anything): / and she is, therefore, not disappointed on dis- m covering that life is actually a serious thing. i. She never whines about " making her husband happy"--but- sets firmly and sensibly about making him comfortable. She cooks his din- ner, nurses his children, shares his hardships, and encourages his industry. She never com- plains of having too much work to do; she does not desert her home to make endless visits- she borrows no misfortunes, has no imaginary page: 132-133[View Page 132-133] 132 WJESTEEN CHARACTERS. ailings. Milliners and mantua-makers she ig- nores -" shopping" she never heard of - scan- dal she never invents or listens to. She never wishes for fine carriages, professes no inability to walk five hundred yards, and does not think it a " vulgar accomplishment," to know how to make butter. She has no groundless anxieties," she is not nervous about her children taking cold: a doctor is a visionary potentate to her -a drug-shop is a depot of abominations. She / never forgets whose wife she is,-there is no / ( sweet confidante" without whom she " can not / live"-she never writes endless letters about nothing. She is, in short, a faithful, honest wife: and, "in due time," the husband must make more " three-legged stools"-for the "tow- heads" have now covered them all! Such is the wife and mother of the pioneer, and, with such influences about him, how could he be otherwise than honest, straightforward, and manly? But, though a life in the woods-was an enemy to every sort of sentimentalism- though a more unromantic being than the pioneer can hardly be imagined-yet-his character unquestionably took its hue, from the primitive scenes and THE PIONEER. 133 events of his solitary existence. He was, in many things, as simple as a child: as credulous, as unsophisticated. Yet the utmost cunning of the wily savage-all the strategy of Indian warfare--was not sufficient to deceive or over- reach him! Though one might have expected that his life of ceaseless watchfulness would make him skeptical and suspicious, his confi- dence was given heartily, without reservation, and often most imprudently. If he gave his trust at all, you might ply him, by the hour, with the most improbable and outrageous fic- tions, without fear of contradiction or of un- belief. He never" questioned the superior knowledge or pretensions of any one who claimed acquaintance with subjects of which he was ignorant. The character of his intellect, like that of the Indian, was thoroughly synthetical: he had nothing of the faculty which enables us to de- teet falsehood, even in matters of which we know nothing by comparison and analogy. He never analyzed any Story told him, he took it as a unit; and, unless it violated some known principle of his experience, or conflicted with some fact of his own observation, never doubted its truth. At this moment, there are men in every western settlement who have only vague, page: 134-135[View Page 134-135] 134 WESTERN CHARACTERS. crude notions of what a city is-who would feel nervous if they stepped upon the deck of a steamboat--and are utterly at a loss to conjec- ture the nature of a railroad. Upon either of these mystical subjects they will swallow, with- out straining, the most absurd and impossible fictions. And this is not because of their igno- rance alone, for many of them are, for their sphere in life, educated, intelligent, and, what is better, sensible men. 'Nor is it by any means a national trait: for a genuine Yankee will scarcely believe the truth; and, though he may sometimes trust in very wild things, his faith is usually an active -" craze," and not mere passive credulity. The pioneer, then, has not derived it from his eastern fathers: it is the growth of the woods and prairies--an embellishment to a character which might otherwise appear naked and severe. - Another characteristic, traceable to the same source, the stern reality of his life, is the pioneer's gravity. /7' The agricultural population of this country ^ are, at the best, not a cheerful race. Though ;! they sometimes join in festivities, it is but , seldom; and the wildness of their dissipation is k too often in proportion to its infrequency. There TEE PIONEER. 135 is none of the serene contentment--none of that smiling enjoyJment-which, according to! travellers like Howitt, distinguishes the tillers " of the ground in other lands. Sedateness is a - national characteristic, but the gravity of the pioneer is quite another thing; it includes pride and personal dignity, and indicates a stern, unyielding temper. There is, however, nothing morose in 'it: it is its aspect alone, i which forbids approach; and that only makes i more conspicuous the heartiness of your recep- I tion, when once the shell is broken. Acquainted with the character, you do not expect him to smile much; but now and then he laughs: and . that laugh is round, free, and hearty. You know at once that he enjoys it, you are con- vinced that he is a firm friend and "a good hater."- It is not surprising, with a character such as i I have described, that the pioneer is not grega- i rious, that he is, indeed, rather solitary. Ac- cordingly, we never find a genuine specimen of / the class, among the emigrants, who come in X shoals and flocks, and pitch their tents in (" colo- nies ;" who lay out towns and cities, projected upon paper, and call them New Boston, New Albany, or New Hartford, before one log is page: 136-137[View Page 136-137] 136 WESTERN CHAR CTEARB. placed upon another; nor are there many of the unadulterated stock among that other class, who come from regions. further south, and christen their towns, classically, Carthage, Rome, or Athens: or, patriotically, in commemoration of some Virginian worthy, some Maryland sharp- shooter, or "Jersey blue." The real pioneer never emigrates gregarious- ly ; he does not wish to be' within "' halloo" of his nearest neighbor; he is no city-builder; and, if he does project a town, he christens it by some such name as Boonville or Cilarksville, in memory of a noted pioneer: or Jacksonville or Waynesville, to commemorate some " old hero" who was celebrated for good fighting.* And the reason why the outlandish and outre so much predominate in the names of western towns and cities, must be sought in the fact referred * On the subject of naming towns, much might have been said in the preceding article in favor of French taste, and espe- cially that just and unpretending taste, which led them almost alway to retain the Indian names. While the American has pretentiously imported from the Old World such names as Venice, Carthage, Rome, Athens, and even London and Paris, or has transferred from the eastern states, Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore,. and New York, the Frenchman, with a better judg- ment, has retained such Indian names as Chicago, Peoria, Kas-, kaskia, Cahokia, Illinois, Wisconsin, Missouri, Wabash, and Mis- sisaippi. . TH N PIONIEEB. 137 to above, that the western man is not essentially a town-projector, and that, consequently, com- paratively few of the towns were " laid out" by the legitimate pioneer. We shall have more to say of town-building under another head; and, in the meantime, having said that the pioneer is not gregarious, let us look at the manner of his emigration. Many a time, in the western highways, have I met with the sturdy " mover," as he is called, in the places where people are stationary- a family, sometimes by no means small, wan- dering toward the setting sun, in search of pleasant places on the lands of "Uncle Sam." Many a time, in the forest or on the prairie- generally upon some point of timber which puts a mile or two within the plain--have I passed the " clearing," or "pre-emption," where, with nervous arm and sturdy heart, the " squatter"* cleaves out, and renders habitable, a home for himself and a heritage for his children. Upon the road, you first meet the pioneer him- * This word is a pregnant memento of the manner in which the vain words of flippant orators fall, innocuous, to the ground, when they attempt to stigmatize, with contemptuous terms, the truly noble. "Squatter" is now, in the west, only another name for "Pioneer," and that word describes all that is ad- mirable in courage, truth; and manhoodl page: 138-139[View Page 138-139] 138 WESTIrN CHARACTERS. -self, for he almost always walks a few hundred yards -ahead. He is usually above the medium height, and rather spare. He stoops a little, too; for he has done a deal of hard work, and expects to do more; but you see at once, that unless his lungs are weak, his strength is by no means broken, and you are quite sure that many a stately tree is destined to be humbled by his sinewy arm. He is attired in frontier fashion: he wears a loose coat, called a hunting-shirt, of jeans or linsey, and its color is that indescriba- ble hue compounded of copperas and -madder; pantaloons, exceedingly loose, and not very ac- curately cut in any part, of like color and material, defend his lower limbs. His feet are cased in low, fox-colored shoes, for of boots, he is, yet, quite innocent. Around his throat and wrists, even in midsummer, you see the collar and wristhands of a heavy, deep-red, flannel- shirt. Examine him very closely, and you will probably find no other garment on his person. His hair is dark, and not very evenly trim- med for his wife or daughter has performed the tonsure with a pair of rusty shears; and the longer locks seem changed in hue, as if his dingy wool hat did not sufficiently protect them against the wind and rain. Over his shoulder he carries a heavy rifle, heavier than a "Har- THE, PrIONEEs. 139 per's ferry musket," running about " fifty to the pound." Around his neck are swung the powder-horn and bullet-pouch, the former pro- tected by a square of deer-skin, and the latter ornamented with a squirrel's tail. ; You take note of all these things, and then recur to his. melancholy-looking face, with its mild blue eyes and sharpened features. You think he looks thin, and conjecture that his chest may be weak, or his lungs affected, by the stoop in his shoulders; but when he lifts his eyes, and asks the way to Thompson's ferry, or how far it is to water, you are satisfied: for the glance of his eye is calm and firm, and the tone of his voice is round and healthy. You answer his question, he nods quietly by way of thanks, and marches on; and, though you draw your rein, and seem inclined to further converse, he takes no notice, and pursues his way. A few minutes afterward, you meet the family. A small, light wagon, easily dragged through sloughs and heavy roads, is covered with a white cotton cloth, and drawn, by either two yokes of oxen, or a pair of lean horses. A "' patch-work" j quilt is sometimes stretched across the flimsy covering, as a guard against the sun and rain. Within this vehicle are stowed all the emigrant's household goods, and still, it is not overloaded. page: 140-141[View Page 140-141] "O WESTSfJN (F1RACROTERS. There is usually a large chest, containing the wardrobe of the family, with such small articles as are liable to loss, and the little store of money. This is always in silver, for the pioneer is no judge of gold, and, on the frontier, paper has but little exchangeable value. There are then two light bedsteads - one " a trundle-bed" - a few plain chairs, most of them tied on behind and at the sides; three or four stools, domestic manufacture; a set of tent-poles and a few pots and pans. On these are piled the "beds and bedding," tied in large bundles, and stowed in such manner as to make convenient room for the children who are too young to walk. In the front end of the wagon, sits the mother of the family: and, peering over her head and shoul- ders, leaning out at her side, or gazing under the edge of the cotton-covering, are numerous flaxen heads, which you find it difficult to count while you ride past. There are altogether too many of them, you think, for a man no older than the one you met, a while ago; and you, perhaps, conjecture that the-youthful-looking woman has adopted some of her dead sister's children, or, perchance, some of her brothers and sisters themselves. But you are mistaken, they are all her offspring, and TH PIONEER. 141 the father of every one of them is the stoop- shouldered man you saw ahead. If you look closely, you will observe that the mother, who is driving, holds the reins with one hand, while, on the other arm, she supports an infant not more than six months old. It was for the advent of this little stranger, that they delayed their emigration: and they set out while it was very young, for fear of the approach of its successor. If they waited for their youngest child to attain a year of age, they would never "move," until they would be too old to make another "clearing." You pass on-perhaps ejaculating thanks that your lot has been differently cast, and thinking you have seen the last of them. But a few hundred yards further, and you hear, the tinkling of a bell; two or three lean cows --with calves about the age of the baby- come straggling by. You look for the driver, and see a tall girl with a very young face- the eldest of the family, though not exceeding twelve or thirteen years in age. You feel quite sure, that, besides her sun-bonnet and well- worn shoes, she wears but one article of ap- parel-and that a loose dress of linsey, rather narrow in the skirt, of a dirty brown color, with a tinge of red. It hangs straight down about page: 142-143[View Page 142-143] "2 WhSTR- OHARMACTERS. her limbs, as if it were wet, and with every step - for she walks stoutly - it flaps and flies about her ankles, as if shotted in the lower hem. She presents, altogether, rather a slatternly figure, and her face is freckled and sunburnt. But you must, not judge her too rashy; for her eye is keen and expressive, and her mouth is quite pretty-especially when she smiles. A few years hence -if you have the entree- you may meet her in the best and highest cir- cles of the country. Perhaps, while you are dancing attendance upon some new administra- tion, asking for a " place," and, asking, prob- ably, in vain, she may come to Washington, a beautiful and accomplished woman -the wife of some member of Congress, whose constitu- ency is numbered by the hundred thousand! You may pass on, now, and forget her; but, if you stop to talk five. minutes, she will not forget you - at least, if you say anything stri- king or sensible. And when you meet her again, perhaps in a gilded saloon, among the brightest and highest in the land -if you seek an intro- duction, as you probably will -she will remind you of the meeting, and to your astonishment, i will, laughingly describe the scene, to some of her obsequious friends who stand around. And then she will perhaps introduce you, as an old * A I THE PIONEEiR. friend, to one of those flax-haired boys, who peeped out of the wagon over his mother's shoulder;,as you passed them, in the wilderness: and you recognise one of the members from California, or from' Oregon, whose influence in the house, though he is as yet a very young man, is already quite considerable. If you are suc- cessful in your application for a "place," it may be that the casual meeting in the forest or on the prairie was the seed which, germinating through long years of obscurity, finally sprung up thus, and bore a crop of high official honors! The next time you meet a family of emigrants on the frontier, you will probably observe them a little more closely. Not a few of those who bear a prominent part in the government of our country -more than one of the first men of the nation-men whose names are now heard in connection with the highest office of the people - twenty years ago, occupied a place as humble in the scale of influence, as that flaxen-haired son of the stoop- shouldered emigrant. Such are the elements of our civilization -such the spirit of our in- stitutions I o page: 144-145[View Page 144-145] * 144 WESTERN CHARACTE S. 'We have hitherto been speaking only of the American pioneer, and we have devoted more space to him, than we shall give to his contem- porariesbecause he has exerted more influence, both, in the settlement of the country, and in the formation of sectional character and social peculiarities, than all the rest combined. The French emigrant was' quite a different being. Even at this day, there are no two classes-not the eastern and western, or the northern and southern'-between whom the distinction is more marked, than it has always been between the Saxon and the Frank. The advent of the latter was much earlier than that of the former; and to him, therefore, must be ascribed the credit of the first settlement of the country. But, for all purposes of lasting im- pression, he must yield to his successor. It was, in fact, the American who penetrated and cleared the forest -;- who subdued and drove out the Indian- who, in a word, reclaimed the country. In nothing was the distinction between the two races broader, than in the feelings with which they approached the savage. We have seen that the hatred, borne by the American toward his red- enemy, was to be traced to a THE PIONfEER. 14 long series of mutual hostilities and wrongs. But the Frenchman had no such injuries to avenge, no hereditary feud to prosecute. The first of his nation who had entered-the country were non-combatants- they came to convert the savage, not to conquer him, or deprive him of his lands. Evenas early as sixteen hundred and eight, the Jesuits had established friendly relations with the Indians of Canada -and be- fore the stern crew of the May Flower had land- ed on Plymouth Rock, they had preached the gospel on the shores of Lake Huron. - Their piety and wisdom had acquired an influence over the untutored Indian, long before the com- mencement of the hostilities, which afterward cost so mlch blood and suffering. They had, thus, smoothed the way for their countrymen, and opened a safe path through the wilderness, to the shore of the great western waters. And' the people who followed and accompanied them, were peculiarly adapted to improve the advan- tages thus given them. They were a gentle, peaceful, unambitious people. They came as the friend, not the he- reditary enemy, of the savage. They tendered the calumet--a symbol well understood by every Indian--and were received as allies and brethren. They had no national prejudices to 7 page: 146-147[View Page 146-147] "6 WESTIERN CHARACTERS. overcome: the copper color of the Indian was not an insuperable objection to intermarriage, and children of the mixed blood were not, for that reason, objects of scorn. An Indian maiden was as much a woman to a Frenchman, as if she had been a blonde ; and, if her form was graceful and her features comely, he would woo her with as much ardor as if she had been one of his own race. Nor was this peculiarity attributable only to the native gallantry of the French character, as it has sometimes been asserted: the total want of prejudice, which grows up in contem- plating an inferior race, held in limited subjec- tion, and a certain easiness of temper and tone of thought, had far more influence. The Frenchman has quite enough vanity, but very little pride. Whatever, therefore, is sanctioned by those who surrounded him, is, in his eyes, no degradation. He married the In- dian woman -first, because there were but few females among the emigrants, and he could not live without "the sex;" and, second, because there was nothing in his prejudices, or in pub- lic sentiment, to deter him. The descendants of these marriages- except where, as in some cases, they are upheld, by the possession- of great wealth have no consideration, and are * * . THE PIONE. 147 seldom seen in the society of the whites. B ut this is only because French manners and feel- ings have long since faded out of our social or- ganization. The Saxon, with his unconquer- able prejudices of race, with his pride and jeal- ousy, has taken possession of the country; and, as he rules its political destinies, in most places, likewise, gives tones to its manners. Had Frenchmen continued to possess the land-- had French dominion not given place to English- mixture of blood would have had but little in- fluence on one's position; and there would now have been, in St. Louis or Chicago, as many shades of color in a social assembly, as may be seen at a ball in Mexico. The French are a more cheerful-people, than the Americans. Social intercourse--the in- terchange of hospitalities-the enjoyment of amusements in crowds are far more import- ant to them than to any other race. Solitude and misery are-or ought to be-synonyms in French; and enjoyment is like glory--it must have witnesses, or it will lose its attrac- tion. Accordingly, we find the French emi- grant seeking companionship, even in the trials, and enterprises of the wilderness. The Ameri- can, after the manner of his race, sought places page: 148-149[View Page 148-149] $As WEFST'EBI OI aM-BAACTE where he could possess, for himself, enough: for his wants, and be " monarch of all he surveyed." But the Frenchman had no such pride. He resorted to: a town, where the amusements of dancing, fet&es and social converse, were to be: found - where the narrow streets were scarcely more than a division fence, " across which the women could carry on their voluble conversa- tions, without leaving their homes."* This must have been a great advantage, and prob- ably contributed, in no slight degree, to the singular peace of their villages-since the proximity afforded- no temptation to going abroad, and the distance was yet too .great to allow such whisperings and scandal, as usually break up the harmony of small circles. Whether the fact is to be attributed to this, or to some other cause, certain it is that these little com- munities were eminently peaceful. From the first settlement of Kaskaskia, for example, down to the transfer of the western country to the British -almost a century--I find no record, even in the voluminous epistolary chronicles, of any personal rencontre, or serious quarrel,- among the inhabitants. The same praise can not be, given to any American town ever yet built. * Perdn?'s Western. Annals. THB PrIOiNE. 149 A species of communism seems to be a por. tion of the French character; for we discover, that, even at that early day, paysans, or habi- tans, collected together in villages, had their common fields, where the separate portion of each family was still a part of the common stock--and their tract of pasture-land, where there was no division, or separate property. One enclosure covered all the fields of the com- munity, and all submitted to regulations made by the free voice of the people. If one was sick, or employed in the service of the colony, or absent on business of his own at planting or harvest time, his portion was not therefore neglected: his ground was planted, or his crop was gathered, by the associated labor of his neighbors, as thoroughly and care- fully as if he had been at home. His family had nothing to fear; because in the social code of the simple villagers, each was as much bound to maintain the children of his friend as his own. This state of things might have its in- conveniences and vices-of which, perhaps, the worst was its tendency to merge the family into the community, ,and thus - by obliterating the lines of individuality and personal inde- pendence -benumbing enterprise and check- ing improvementsi: but it was certainly produc- page: 150-151[View Page 150-151] 15O Wb'I'R OGHRACTEMS. tive of some good results, also. It tended to make people careful each of the other's rights, kind to the afflicted, and brotherly in their social intercourse. The attractive simplicity of manners observable, even at this day, in some of the, old French villages, is traceable to this peculiar form of their early organization. It would be well if that primitive simplicity of life and manners, could be combined with rapid, or even moderate improvement. But, in the present state of the world, this can scarcely be; and, accordingly, we find the Frenchman of the passing year, differing but little from his ancestor of sixteen hundred and' fifty-still living in the old patriarchal style, still cultivating his share of the common field, and still ,using the antiquated processes of the seventeenth century. But, though not so active as their neighbors, the Americans, they were ever much happier. They had no ambition beyond enough for the passing hour: with that they were perfectly con- tented. They were very patient of the depriva- tion, when they had it not; and seasons of scarcity saw no cessation of music and dancing, no abridgment of the jest and song. If the earth yielded enough in one year to sustain them THE PIONEER. 151 till the next, the amount of labor expended for that object was never increased - superfluity they cared nothing for: and commerce, save such limited trade as was necessary to provide their few luxuries, was beyond both their capa- city and desires. The prolific soil was suffered to retain its juices; it was reserved for another people to discover and improve its infinite pro- ductiveness. They were indolent, careless, and improvident. Great enterprises were above or below them. Political interests, and the questions concerning national dominion, were too exciting to charm their gentle natures. Their intelligence was, of course, not of the highest order: but they had no use for learning -literature was out of place in the wilderness--the pursuit of letters could have found no sympathy, and for solitary enjoy- ment, the Frenchman cultivates nothing. Life was almost altogether sensuous: and, though their morals were in'keeping with their sim- plicity, existence to them was chiefly a physical matter. The fertility of the soil, producing all the necessaries of life with a small amount of labor, and the amenity of the climate, rendering defences against winter but too easy, encouraged their indolence, and soothed their scanty energy. page: 152-153[View Page 152-153] !52 . w rST xN CHRACTBRS. "They made no attempt," said one* who knew them well, "to acquire land from the Indians, to organize a social system, to intro duce municipal regulations, or to establish mill tary defences; but cheerfully obeyed the priests and the lng's officers, and enjoyed the present without troubling their heads about the future. They seem to have been even careless as to the acquisition of property, and its transmission to their heirs. Finding themselves in a fruitful country, abounding in game--where the neces- saries of life could be procured with little labor -where no restraints were imposed by govern- ment, and neither tribute nor personal service was exacted, they were content to live in un- ambitious peace and comfortable poverty. They took possession of so much of the vacant land around them, as they were disposed to till, and no more. Their agriculture was rude: and even to this day, some of the implements of hus- bandry and modes of cultivation, brought from France a century ago, remain unchanged by the march of mind or the hand of innovation. Their houses were comfortable, and they reared fruits and flowers, evincing, in this respect, an attention to comfort and luxury, which has not r "Sketches of the West," by Judge Hll, for many years a resident of nlinois. THE PIoECE. ., 153 been practised by the English and American first settlers. [ But in the accumulation of prop- erty, and in all the essentials of industry, they were indolent and improvideit, rearing only the bare necessaries of life, and living from. genera- tion. to generation without change or improve- ment." "They reared fruits and flowers," he says; and this simple fact denotes a marked distinction between them and the Americans, not only in regard to the things themselves, as would seem to be the view of the author quoted, but in mental constitution, modes of thought, and motives to action. Their tastes were elegant, ornate, and refined. They found .pleasure in pursuits which the American deems trivial, frivolous, and unworthy of exertion. If any trees sheltered the house of the Ameri- can, they were those planted by the winds; if there were any flowers at his door; they were only those with which prodigal nature has car- peted the prairies; and you may see now in the west, many a cabin which has .stood for thirty years, with not a tree, of shade or fruit, within a mile of its door! Everything is as bare and as cheerless about the door-yard, as it was the first winter of its enclosure. But, stretching away from it, in every direction, sometimes for 7* page: 154-155[View Page 154-155] 154 WEVSTMK, O9ABAOTERS. miles, you will see extensive and productive fields of grain, in the highest state of cultivation. It is not personal comfort, or an elegant resi- dence, for which the American cares, but the enduring and solid results of unwearied labor. A Frenchman's residence is surrounded by flower-beds and orchards; his windows are covered by creeping-vines and trellis-work; flower-pots and bird-cages occupy the sills and surround the corridors; everything presents the aspect of elegant taste, comfort, and indolence. The extent of his fields, the amount of his prod- uce, the intelligence and industry of his culti- vation, bear an immense disproportion to those of his less ornamental, though more energetic, neighbor.' The distinction between the two races is as clear in their personal appearance and bearing, as in the aspect of their plantations. The Frenchman is generally a spruce, dapper little gentleman, brisk, obsequious, and insinuating in mannier, and usually betraying minute atten- tion to externals. The American is always plain in dress--evincing no more taste in costume than in horticulture - steady, calm, and never lively in manner: blunt, straightforward, and independent in discourse. The one is amiable THE PIONEER. 155 and submissive, the other choleric and rebel- lious. The Frenchman always recognises and bows before superior rank: the American ac- knowledges no superior, and bows to no man save in courtesy. The former is docile and easily governed: the latter is intractable, be- yond control. The Frenchman accommodates himself to circumstances: the American forces circumstances to yield to him. The consequence has been, that while the American has stamped his character upon the whole country, there are not ten places in the valley of the Mississippi, where you would in- fer, from anything you see, that a Frenchman had ever placed his foot upon the soil. The few localities in which the French character yet lingers, are fast losing the distinction; and a score or two offyears will witness a total dis- appearance of the gentle people and their primi- tive abodes. Even now-excepting in a few parishes in Louisiana-the relics of the race bear a faded, antiquated look: as if they be- longed to a past century, as, indeed, they do, and only lingered now, to witness, for a brief space, the glaring innovations of the nineteenth, and then, lamenting the follies of modern civi- lization, to take their departure for ever I Let them depart in peace I For they were a page: 156[View Page 156] 156 - WESTEN CfHAfAOTRAERS. gentle and pacific race, and. in their day did manny kindly things I "The goodness of the heart is shown in deeds Of peacefulness and kindness.' Their best monument is an affectionate recol- lection of their simplicity: their highest wish ----'To sleep in humble life, Beneath the -storm ambition blowa" page: Illustration-157[View Page Illustration-157] IV. THE RANGER. ",When purposed vengeance'I forego, Term me a wretch,' nor deem me foe; And when an insult I forgive, Then brand me as a slave, and live," SCOTT. IN elaborating the[ character of the pioneer, we have unavoidably anticipated, in some meas- ure, that of the Ranger -for the latter was, in fact, only one of the capacities in which the former sometimes acted. But-since, in the preceding article, we have have endeavored to confine the inquiry, so as to use the term Pio- neer as almost synonymous with Immigrant- we have, of course, ignored, to some extent, the subordinate characters, in which he fre- quently figured. We therefore propose, now, briefly to review one or two of them in their natural succession. The progress of our country may be traced and measured, by the representative characters page: 158-159[View Page 158-159] 158 * WESTERN CHABACTERS. which marked each period. The missionary- priest came first, when the land was an un- broken wilderness. The military adventurer, seeking to establish new empires, and acquire great fortunes, entered by the path thus opened, Next came the hunter, roaming the woods in search of wild beasts upon which he preyed. Making himself familiar with the pathless for- est and the rolling prairie, he qualified himself to guide, even while he fled from, the stream of immigration. At last came the pioneer, to drive away the savage, to clear out,the forests, and reclaim the land. At first, he was only a pioneer. He had few neighbors, he belonged to no community -his household was his country, his family were his only -associates or companions. In the course of time others followed him -he could occa- sionally meet a white man on the prairies ; if he wandered a few miles from home, le could see the smoke .of another chimney in the distance. If he did not at once abandon his " clearing" and go further west, he became, in some sort, a member of society w'as the fellow-citizen of his neighbors. The, Indians became alarmed for their-hunting grounds, or the nations went ' to war and drew them into the contest: the frontier became unsafe: the presence of danger THE BANGER. 159 drew the pioneers together: they adopted a sys- tem of defence, and the ranger was the offspring and representative of a new order of things. ZRough and almost savage as he sometimes was, he was still the index to a great improve- ment. Rude as the system was, it gave shape and. order to what had before been mere chaos. The ranger marks a new era, then; his ex- istence is another chapter in the history of the west. Previous to his time, each pioneer de- pended only on hinself for defence - his sole protection, against the wild beast and the savage, I was his rifle - self-dependence was his peculiar characteristic. The idea of a fighting establish- ment -the germ of standing armies-.had never occurred to him: even the rudest form of civil government was strange to him -,taxes, salaries, assessments, were all 'unknown quantities." But, gradually, all this changed; and with his circumstances, his character was also modi- fied. He lost a little of his sturdy independ- ence, his jealousy of neighborhood was softened - his solitary habits became more social- he acknowledged the necessity for concert of ac- tion he merged a part of his individuality into the community, and-became a ranger. JI 'In this capacity, his character was but little page: 160-161[View Page 160-161] 160 WESTEUt C HARAOTERS. different to what it had been before the change; and, though that change was a great improve- ment, considered with reference to society, it may safely be doubted whether it made the in- dividual more respectable. He was a better citizen, because he now contributed to the com- mon defence: but he was not a better man, because new associations brought novel temp- tations, and mingling with other men wore away the simplicity, which was the foundation of his manliness. Before assuming his new character, moreover, he neyer wielded a weap- on except in his own defence - or, at most, in avenging his own wrongs. The idea of justice -claiming reparation for an injury, which he alone could estimate, because by him alone it was sustained -protected his moral sense. But, when he assumed the vindication of his neigh- bor's rights, and the reparation of his wrongs -however kind it may have been to do so - he was sustained only by the spirit of hatred to the savage, could feel no such justification as the consciousness of injury. Hiere was the first introduction of the mer- cenary character, which actuates the hireling soldier; and, though civilization was not then far enough advanced, to make it very conspicu- ous, there were other elements mingled, which T-E BANSG]B . 161 could not but depreciate the simple nobility of the pioneer's nature. Many of the qualities which, in him, had been merely passive, in the ranger became fierce and active. We have al- luded, for example, to his hatred of the Indian.; and this, habit soon strengthened and exagger, ated. Nothing marks that change so plainly as his adoption of the barbarous practice of scalp- ing enemies'. For this there might be some little palliation in the fact, that the savage never considered a warrior overcome, though he were killed, un- less he lost his scalp; and so long as he could bring off the dead bodies of his comrades, not mutilated by the process, he was but partially intimidated. Defeat was, in that case, convert- ed to a sort of triumph; and having gone with- in one step of victory-for so this half-success was estimated -was the strongest incentive to a renewal of the effort. It might be, therefore, that the ranger's adoption of the custom was a measure of self-defence. But it is to be feared that this consideration -weak as it is, when stated as an excuse for cruelty so barbarous- had but little influence in determining the ran- ger. AXdopting the code of the savage, the prac- tice soon became a part of his warfare; and the taking of the scalp was a ceremony neees- page: 162-163[View Page 162-163] 162 WESTERN CHABACTERS. sary to the completion of his victory. It was a bloody and inhuman triumph --a custom which tended, more forcibly than any other, to de- grade true courage to mere cruelty; and which, while it only mortified the savage, at the same time, by rendering his hatred, of the white men more implacable, aggravated the horrors of In- dian warfare. But the only measure of justice in those days, was the tex talioiris -"An eye for an eye," a scalp for a scalp; and, even now, you may hear frontiermen justify, though they do not practise it, by quoting the venera- ble maxim, "Fight the devil with fire." 3But, though the warfare of the ranger was sometimes distinguished by cruelty, it was also ennobled by features upon which it is far more pleasant to dwell. No paladin, or knight, of the olden times, ever exhibited more wild, romantic daring, than that which formed a part of the ranger's daily action. Danger, in a thousand forms, beset him at every step -he defied mutilation, death by fire and lingering torture. The num- ber of his enemies, he never counted, until after he had conquered them--the power of the tribe, or the prowess of the warrior, was no ele- ment fn his calculations Where he could THE RANGER. 163 strike first and most effectually, was his only- inquiry. Securing an avenue for retreat was no part of his strategy--for he had never aA intention or thought of -returning, except as a victor. "Keeping open fhis communications," either with the rear or the flanks, had no place in his system; " combined movements" he sel- dom attempted, for he depended for victory, upon the force he chanced to have directly at hand. The distance from his "base of opera- tions" be never measured; for he/carried all his supplies about his person, and he never looked for reinforcements. Bridges and wagon- roads he did not require, for he could swim all the rivers, and he never lost his way in the for- est. He carried his artillery upon'his shoulder, his tactics were the maxims of Indian warfare, and his only drill was the "ball-practice" of the woods. He was his own commissary, for he carried his "rations" on his back, and re- plenished his havresack with his rifle. He needed no quartermaster; for he furnished his own " transportation," and selected his own encampment - his bed was the bosom of moth- er-earth, and his tent was the foliage of an oak or the canopy of heaven. In most cases- especially in battle--he was his own, com- mander, too; for'he was impatient of restraint, page: 164-165[View Page 164-165] 168 WESTERN CHACBTERS. and in savage warfare knew his duty! as well as any man could instruct him. Obedience was no part; of his nature - subordination was irk- some and oppressive. In a word, he was an excellent soldier, without drill, discipline or organization. - He was as active as he-was brave--as un- tiring as he was fearless. A corps of rangers moved so rapidly, as ap- parently to double its numbers -dispersing on the Tllinois or Missouri, and reassembling on the Mississippi, on the following day--travers- ing the Okan timber to-day, and fording the Ohio to-morrow. One of them, noted among the Indians for desperate fighting, and person- ally known for many a bloody meeting, would appear so nearly simultaneously in different places, as to acquire the title of a "( Great Medi- / cine ;" and instances have been known, where as many as three distinct war-parties have told of obstinate encounters with the same men in one day Their apparent ubiquity awed the Indians more than their prowess. General Benjamin Howard, who, in eighteen hundred and thirteen resigned the office of gov ernor of Missouri, and accepted the appointment of brigalier-general, in command of the militia and rangers of Missouri and Illinois, at no time, except for a few weeks in eighteen hundred and fourteen, had more than one thousand men un" der his. orders: And yet, with this inconsider- able force, he protected a frontier extending from the waters of the Wabash, westward to the advanced settlements of Missouri - driving the savages northward beyond Peoria, and intimi- dating them by the promptitude and rapidity of his movements; Our government contributed nothing to the defence of its frontiers, except an act of Con- gress, which'authorized them to defend them- selves! The Indians, amounting to at least - twenty tribes, had been stirred up to hostility by the, British, and, before the establishment of rangers, were murdering and plundering al- most with impunity. But soon after the organ- ization of these companies, the tide began to turn. The ranger was at least a match for the savage in his own mode of warfare; and he had, f moreover, the advantages of civilized weapons, / and a steadiness and constancy, unknown to the disorderly war-parties of the red men. ' He was persevering beyond all example, and exhibited endurance which astonished even the stoical savage. Three or four hours' rest, after v w I . page: 166-167[View Page 166-167] 166 WiSlxBN CHARAwocljFi weeks of hardship and exposure, prepared him for another expedition. If the severity of his' vengeance, or the success of a daring enter- prise, intimidated the Indian for a time,' and gave him a few days' leisure, he grew impa- V tient of inactivity, and was straightway plan- ning some new exploit. The moment one sug- gested itself, he set about accomplishing it- and its hardihood and peril caused no hesita- tion. He would march, on foot, hundreds of miles, through an unbroken wilderness, until he reached the point where the blow was to be struck; and then, awaiting/the darkness, in the middle of the night, he would fall upon his un- suspecting enemies and carry all before him. During the war of independence, the ran- gers had not yet assumed that name, nor were -they as thoroughly organized, as they became in the subsequent contest of eighteen hundred and twelve. But the same material was there -the same elemejats of character, actuated by the same spirit. Let the following instance show what that spirit was. In the year seventeen hundred and seventy-' seven, there lived at Cahokia-on the east side of the Mississippi below Saint Louis-a Pennsylvanian by the name of Brady- a rest- J TE RBANERm. 167 less, daring man, just made for a leader of ran- geis. In an interval of inactivity, he conceived the idea of capturing one of the British posts in Michigan, the nearest point of which was at least three hundred miles distant! He forth- with set about raising a company --and, at the end of three days, found himself invested with the command of sixteen men! With these, on the first of. October, he started on a journey of more than one hundred leagues, through the vast solitudes of the prairies and the thousand perils of the forest, to take a military station, occupied by a detachment of British soldiers! After a long and toilsome march, they reached the banks of the St. Joseph's river, on which the object of their expedition stood. Awaiting the security of midnight, they suddenly broke- from their cover in the neighborhood, and by a coup de main, captured the fort without the loss of a man! Thus far all went well -for besides the success and safety of the party, they found a large'amount of stores, belonging to traders, in the station, and were richly paid for their en- terprise -but having been detained by the foot- sore, on their homeward march, and probably delayed by their plunder, they had only reached the Calumet, on the borders of Indiana, when they were overtaken by three hundred British page: 168-169[View Page 168-169] and Indians They were forced to surrender, though not without a fight, for men of that gtanmp were not to be intimidated by numbers. They lost in the skirmish one fourth of their number: the survivors were carried away to Canada, whence Brady, the leader, escaped, and returned to Cahokia the same winter. The twelve remained prisoners until seventeen hun- dred and seventy-nine. Against most men this reverse would have given the little fort security - at least, until the memory of the disaster had been obscured by time. But the pioneers of that period were not to be judged by ordinary rules. The very next spring (1778), another company was raised for the same object, and to wipe out what they con- sidered the stain of a failure. It was led by a man named Maize, over the same ground, to the same place, and was completely successful. The fort was retaken, the trading-station plun- dered, the wounded men of Brady's party re- leased, and, loaded with spoil, the little party marched back in triumph! There is an episode in the history of their homeward march, which illustrates another characteristic of the ranger-his ruthlessness. T bs ANGEB . 169 The same spirit which led him to disregard physical obstacles, prevented his shrinking from even direful necessities. One of the prisoners whom they had liberated, became exhausted and unable to proceed. They could not carry him, and would not have him to die of starva- tion in the wilderness. They could not halt with him, lest the same fate should overtake them, which had defeated the enterprise of Brady. But one alternative remained, and though, to us, it appears cruel and inhuman, it was self-preservation to them, and mercy, in a strange guise, to the unhappy victim-he wm despatched by the hand of the leader, and buried upon the prairie! His grave is some- where near the -head-waters of the Wabash, and has probably been visited by no man from that day to this! Mournful reflections- cluster round such a narrative as this, and*we are impelled to use the word c" atrocious" when we speak of it. It was certainly a bloody deed, but the men of those days were not nurtured in drawing-rooms, and never slept upon down-beds. A state of war, moreover, begets many evils, and none of them are more to be deplored than the occa- sional occurrence of such-terrible necessities. 8 - page: 170-171[View Page 170-171] 170 WESTERN CHABCTE . The ranger-character, like the pioneer-nature of which it was a phase, was compounded of various and widely-differing elements. No one of his evil qualities was more prominent than several of the good; and, I am sorry to say, -none of the good was more prominent than several of the bad. No class of men did more efficient service in defending the western settle- ments from the inroads of the Indians; and though it seems hard that the war should some- times have been carried into the country of the untutored savage by civilized men, with a severity exceeding his own, we should rememn 'ber that we cannot justly estimate the motives and feelings of the ranger, without first having been exasperated by his sufferings and tried by his temptations. V. THE REGULATOR. "Thieves for their robbery have authority, When judges steal themselves."- MASURE FOR MEASURE. AT the conclusion of peace between England and America, in eighteen hundred and fifteen, the Indians, who had been instigated and sup- ported in their hostility by the British, suddenly found themselves -deprived of their allies. If they now made war upon the Americans, they must do so upon their own responsibility, and, excepting the encouragement of a few traders and commanders of outposts, whose enmity survived the general pacification, without assist ance from abroad. They, however, refused to lay down their arms, and hostilities were con tinued, though languidly, for some years longer. But the rangers, now disciplined by the experi ence of protracted warfare, and Vastly increased page: 172-173[View Page 172-173] 172 WESTERN CARAACTERS. in numbers, had grown to'be more than a match for them, so that not many years elapsed before the conclusion of a peace, which has lasted, with but occasional interruptions, to the present ; 'day. : of . When danger no longer threatened the settle- s ments, there was no further call for these irreg- : \ nlar troops. The companies were disbanded, I' and those who had families, as a large propor- tion of them had, returned to their plantations, and resumed the pursuits of industry and peace. Those who had neither farms nor families, and were unfitted by their stirring life for regular effort, emigrated further west. Peace settled upon our borders, never, we hope, to be seriously broken. But as soon as the pressure of outward danger was: withdrawn, and our communities began to expand, the seeds of new evils were developed -seeds which had germinated unobserved, while all eyes were averted, and which now began to shoot up into a stately growth of vices and crimes. The pioneers soon learned that there was among them a class of unprincipled and abandoned men, whose only motive in emigrating was to avoid the restraints, or escape the penalties, of law, and to whom the freedom THE, EEGULALTOR. 178 of the wilderness was a license to commit every sort of depredation. The arm of the law was not yet strong enough to punish them. The territorial governments were too busy in ; completing their own organization, to give much attention to details: where states had been formed, the statute-book was yet a blank: j few officers had been appointed, and even these . were strangers to their duties and charge of re-; sponsibility. Between the military rule of the' rangers-for they were for internal police as well as external defence -and the establishment f of regular civil government, there was a sort, of interregnum, during which there was neither 1 law nor power. to enforce it. The bands of villains who infested the country were the only organizations known; and, in not a few in- stances, these bands included the very magis- trates whose duty it was to see that the laws were faithfully executed. Even when this was not the case, it was a fruitless effort to arrest a malefactor; indeed, it was very often worse, than fruitless, for his confederates were always ready to testify in his favor: and the usual conse- quence of an attempt to punish, was the draw- ing down upon the head of the complainant or prosecutor, the enmity of a whole confederacy. Legal proceedings, had provision been made for page: 174-175[View Page 174-175] 174 WESTOKN CHABACTERS. s8tch, were worse than useless, for conviction was impossible: and the effort exasperated, while the failure encouraged, the outlaw spirit. An alibi was the usual defence, and to those -times may be referred the general prejudice en- tertained among our people, even at the present day, against that species- of testimony. A jury of western men will hardly credit an alibi, though established by unexceptionable wit- nesses; and the announcement that the accused depends upon that. for his defence, will create a strong prejudice against him in advance. In- justice mnay sometimes be done in this way, but it is a feeling of which our people came honestly in possession. They established a habit, in early days, of never believing an alibi, because, at that time, nine alibis in ten were false, and habits of thought, like legal customs, cling to men long after their reason has ceased. It is right, too, that it should be so, on the principle that we should not suspend the use of the remedy until the disease be thoroughly con- quered. In a state of things, such as we have de- scribed, but one of two things could be done: the citizens must either abandon all effort to ; assert the supremacy of order, and give the TH 2REGIMJATOR. 175 country over to thieves and robbers, or theyI must invent some new and irregular way of forcing men to live honestly. They wisely! chose the latter alternative. They consulted" together, and the institution of Regulators wasi the result of their deliberations. These were small- bodies of men, chosen by the people, or voluntarily assuming the duty- men upon whom the citizens could depend for both discretion and resolution. 'Their duties may be explained in a few words: to ferret out 1 and punish criminals, to drive out " suspicious l characters," and exercise a general supervision over the interests and police of the settlements, from which they were chosen. Their statute- book was the "code of Judge Lynch" - their order of trial was similar to that of a " drum- head court-martial"--the principles of their punishment was certainty, rapidity, and sever- ity. They were judges, juries, witnesses, and executioners. \They bound themselves by a regular compact A (usually verbal, but sometimes in writing*), to i the people and to each other, to rid the commu- ) nity of all thieves, robbers, plunderers, and / villains of every description. They scoured the i * See note at the close of this article. page: 176-177[View Page 176-177] l76 WESTE'd OasuEOTEES. country in all directions and in all seasons, and 1 by the swiftness of their movements, and the certainty of their vengeance, rivalled their pred- ecessors, the rangers. When a depredation I had been committed,'it was marvellous with \ what rapidity every regulator linew it; even i the telegraph of modern days performs no greater wonders: and it frequently happened, that the first the quiet citizens heard of a theft, or a robbery, was the news of its punishment.! Their acts may sometimes have. been high- handed and unjustifiable, but on the whole- and it is only in such a view that social institu- tions are to be estimated-they were the pre- servers of the communities for whom they acted. In time, it is true, they degenerated, and some- \ times the corps fell into the hands of the very I men they were organized to punish. Every social organization is liable to mis- direction, and this, among others, has been per- verted to the furtherance of selfish and unprin- cipled purposes; for, like prejudices and habits of thought, organized institutions frequently survive the necessities which call them into existence. Abuses grow up under all systems; and, perhaps, the worst abuse of all, is a meas- ure or expedient, good though temporary, re- THm }OEGULATOR 1" tained after the passing away of the time for which it was adopted. But having, in the article "Pioneer," suffi-, ciently elaborated the character-for the regu- \ lator was of course a pioneer also--we can best; illustrate the mode of his action by a narrative of facts. From the hundreds of well-authenti- cated stories which might be collected, I have chosen the two following, because they dis- tinguish the successive stages or periods of the system. The first relates to the time when a band of regulators was the only reliable legal power, and when, consequently, the vigilance of the citizens kept it comparatively pure. The second indicates a later period, when the people no longer felt insecure, and there was in fact no necessity for the system; and when, not having been disused, it could not but be abused. We derive both from an old citizen of- the country, who was an actor in each. One 'of them, the first, has already been in print, but owing to circumstances to which it is needless to advert, it was thought better to confine the narrative to facts already generally known. These, circum- stances are no\longer operative, and I am now at liberty to publish entire the story of "The First Grave.' 8* page: 178-179[View Page 178-179] 178 WESTERN CHACOTERS. THE FIR'ST GRAVE. AT the commencement of the war of eighteen hundred and twelve, between Great Britain and the United States, there lived, in the western part of Virginia, three families, named, respec- tively, Stone, Cutler, and Roberts. They were all respectable people, of more than ordinary wealth; having succeeded, by an early emigra- tion and judicious selection of lands, in rebuild- ing fortunes which had been somewhat impaired east of the Blue Ridge. Between the first and- second there was a relationship, cemented by several matrimonial alliances, and the standing of both had been elevated by this union of foir tunes. In each of these two, there were six or' seven children - the most of them boys --but Captain Roberts, the head of the third, had but one child, a daughter, who, in the year named, was approaching womanhood. She is said to have been beautiful: and, from the extravagant admiration of those who saw her only. when time and suffering must have obscured her attractions, there can be little doubt that she"was so. What her character was, we can only conjecture from the tenor of our story: though we have reason to suspect that THE REGULLATOR. 179 she was passionate, impulsive, and somewhat vain of her personal appearance. At the opening of hostilities between the two countries, she was wooed by two suitors, young Stone, the eldest of the sons of that family, and 'Abram Cutler, who was two or three years his senior. Both had recently returned home, after a protracted absence of several years, beyond the mountains, whither they had been sent by their ambitious parents, " to attend college and see the world." Stone, was a quiet, modest, un- assuming young man, rather handsome, but too pale and thin to be decidedly so. Having made the most of his opportunities at "William and lMary," he had come home well-educated (for that day and country) and polished by inter- course with good society. His cousin, Abram Cutler, was his opposite in almost everything. bxe had been wild, reck- less, and violent, at college, almost entirely giving up his studies, after the first term, and always found in evil company. His manners were as much vitiated as his morals, for he was exceedingly rough, boisterous, and unpolished: so much so, indeed, asi to approach that ltmit beyond which wealth iwill not make society tolerant. But his freedom of manner bore, to most observers, the appearanceof generous page: 180-181[View Page 180-181] 180 WESTERN CHARACTERS. heartiness, and he soon gained the good will of the neighborhood by the careless prodigality of his life. He was tall, elegantly formed, and quite well-looking; and though le is said to have borne, a few years later, a sinister and dis- honest look, it is probable that most of this was attributable to the preconceived notions of those who thus judged him. Both these young men were, as we have said, suitors for the hand of Margaret Roberts, and it'is possible that the vain satisfaction of having at her feet the two most attractive young men in the country, led her to coquet with them both, but decidedly to prefer neither. It is almost certain, that at the period indicated, she was sufficiently well-pleased with either to have be- come his wife, had the other been away. If she loved either, however, it was Stone, for she was a little timid, and Cutler sometimes fright- ened her with his violence: but the preference, if it existed at all, was not sufficiently strong to induce a choice. About this time, the elder Cutler died, and it became necessary for Abram, as executor of a large estate, to cross the mountains into the Old01. Dominion, and arrange its complicated affairs. It was not without misgiving that he went away, * THE REGULATOU. 181 but his duties were imperative, and his necessi- ties, produced by his spendthrift habits, were pressing. He trusted to a more than usually favorable interview with Margaret, and full of sanguine hopes, departed on his journey. Whether Stone enltertained the idea of taking an unfair advantage of his rival's absence, we can not say, but he straightway became more assiduous in his attentions to Margaret. He was also decidedly favored by Captain Roberts and his wife, both of whom had been alarmed by the violent character of Cutler. Time soon began to obscure the recollection of the absent suitor, rand Stone's delicate and considerate gallantry rapidly gained ground in Margaret's affections. It was just one month after Cutler's departure that his triumph was complete; she consented to be his wife so soon as the minister who travelled on that circuit should enter the neighborhood. But the good man had set out on his circuit only the day before the consent was given, and it would probably be at least a month before, his return. In the meantime, Cutler might recross the mountains, and Stone had seen quite enough of Margaret's capricious- ness to tremble for the safety of his conquest, should that event occur before it was thoroughly secured. page: 182-183[View Page 182-183] 182 -WjT]vtl&N CHARACTERS. This was embarrassing: but when a man is in. earnest, expedients are never wanting. There was an old gentleman living a few miles from the valley, who had once held the commission of a justice of the peace, and though he had not exercised his functions, or even claimed his dignity, for several years, Stone was advised that he retained his officital power "until his successor was appointed and quali- fied," and that, consequently, any official act of his would be legal and valid. He was advised, moreover, and truly, that even if the person per- forming the ceremony were not a magistrate, a marriage would be lawful and binding upon the simple " consent" of the parties, properly pub- lished and declared. Full-freighted with the happy news, he posted away to Captain Roberts, and without difficulty obtained his sanction. He then went to Mar- garet, and, with the assistance of her mother, who stood in much dread of Cutler's violence, succeeded in persuading her to consent. With- out delay, the cidevant magistrate was called in, the ceremony was performed, and Margaret was Stone's wife! The very day after this event, Cutler return- ed I What were his thoughts no one knew, for THE REGULATOR. 183 he spoke to none upon the subject. He went, however, to see " the bride," and, in the presence of others, bantered her pleasantly upon her new estate, upon his own pretensions, and upon the haste with which the ceremony had been per- formed. He started away with the rest of the company present; but, on reaching the door- it was afterward remembered- pretended to have forgotten something, and ran back into the room where they had left Margaret alone. Here he remained full ten minutes, and when he came out walked thoughtfully apart and disappeared. What he said to Margaret no one knew; but, that evening, when they were alone, she asked anxiously of her husband, "whether he was quite sure that their marriage had been legal?" Stone reassured her, and nothing more was said upon the subject. Cutler had brought with him, over the moun- tains, the proclamation of the governor of Vir- ginia, announcing the declaration of war, and calling upon the state -for its quota of troops to repel invasion. He manifested a warm interest in the enrolling and equipment of volunteers, and, in order to attest his sincerity, placed his own name first upon the troll. A day or two afterward, on meeting Stone, in the presence of page: 184-185[View Page 184-185] 184 WESTEN CHACTS. several others who had enrolled themselves, he laughingly observed, that the new bridegroom "was probably too comfortable at home, to de- sire any experience in campaigning:" and, turn- ing away, he left the company laughing at Stone's expense. This touched the young man's pride-proba- bly the more closely, because he was conscious that the insinuation was not wholly void of truth -and, without a moment's hesitation, he called Cutler back, took the paper, and enrolled his name. Cutler laughed again, said he would not have done so, had he been in Stone's cir- cumstances, and, after some further conversa- tion, walked away in the direction of Stone's residence. Whether he actually entered the house is not known; but when the young hus- band returned home, a few hours afterward, his wife's first words indicated that she knew of his enrolment. "Is it possible," said she, with some asperity, "that you already care so little for me as to en- rol yourself for an absence of six months?" Stone would much have preferred to break the news to her himself, for he had some fore- boding as to the view she might take of his conduct. He had scarcely been married a week, and he was conscious that a severe construction THE AtMLTOE* 18s of the act of enrolment, when there 'was not toriously not the least necessity for it, might lead to inferences, than which, nothing could be more false. If he had said, at once, that ho had been taunted by his old rival, and written his name under the influence of pride, all would have been well, for his wife would then have understood, though she might not have .ap- proved his action. But this confession he was ashamed to make, and, by withholding it, laid the foundation for his own and his wife's de- struction. He at once acknowledged the fact, disclaiming, however, the indifference to her; which she inferred, and placing the act upon higher ground:- "The danger of the country," he said, " was very imminent, and it became every good citizen to do all he could -for its defence. He had no idea that the militia would be called far from home, or detained for a very long time; but, in any event, he felt that men were bound, in such circumstances, to cast aside personal consideia; tions, and contribute, each his share, to the common defence." His wife gazed incredulously at him while he talked this high patriotism: and well she might, for he did not speak as one moved by such feel; ings. The consciousness of deceit, of co'neal- page: 186-187[View Page 186-187] 186 WES' CHAAO-CTES. ment, and of childish rashness, rendered his manner hesitating and embarrassed. Margaret observed all this, for her jealousy was aroused and her suspicions sharpened; she made no reply, however, but turned away, with a toss of the head, and busied herself, quite fiercely, with her household cares. From that moment, until the day of his departure, she stubbornly avoid- ed the subject, listening, but refusing to reply, when her husband attempted to introduce it. When Cutler came- 'rather unnecessarily, as Stone thought-to consult him about the or- ganization of a spy-company, to which both were attached, she paid no attention to their conversation, but walked away down a road over which she knew Cutler must pass on his return homeward. Whether this was by ap- pointment with him is not known: probably, however, it was her own motion. We need not stay to detail all that took place between her and her former suitor, when, as she had expected, they met in a wood some hun- dreds of yards from her home; its result will sufficiently appear in the sequel. One circum- stance, however, we must not omit. She re- curred to a conversation which had passed some- time before, in relation to the legality of her l; THE BEaGILATOA . 18 marriage; and though Cutler gave no positive opinion, his parting advice was nearly in the following words:- "If you think, from your three weeks'-expe- rience, that Stone cares enough for you to make it prudent, I would advise'you to have the mar- riage ceremony performed by Parson Bowen, immediately upon his return; and if you care enough for him to wish to retain him, you had better have it performed before he goes away." With these words, and without awaiting an answer, he passed on, leaving her alone in the road. When she returned home, she did not mention the subject; and though Parson Blowen returned to the neighborhood quite a week before Stone went away, she never suggested a repetition of the ceremony. When Stone mani- fested some anxiety on the subject, she turned saddenly upon him and demanded' "You do not think our marriage legal, then T" He Assured her that he only made the sug- gestion for her satisfaction, entertaining no doubt, himself, that they were regularly and lawfully married. "I am content to remain as I am," she said, curtly, and the parson was not summoned. Five days afterward the troops took up the line of march for the frontier. Hull had not page: 188-189[View Page 188-189] 188 INESTE^If fCtA'RA ES. yet 8urrend6ted Michigan; but Proctor had, so stirreod up the Indians (who, until then, had been quiet since the battle of Tippecanoe), as to cut off all communication with- the advanced settle- ments, and even to threaten the latter with fire and slaughter. Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, were then overrun by British and Indians; for Hop- kins had not yet commenced his march from Kentucky, and Congress was still debating meas- ures for protection. Hull's surrender took place on the sixteenth of August, eighteen hundred and twelve, and in the following month, General Harrison, having been appointed to the chief commaind in the northwest, proceeded to adopt vigorous measures for the defence of the country. It was to one of the regiments organized by him, that our friends from Virginia found them- selevo attached. They had raised a company of spaes, and in this both Stone and Cutler held commnissions. They marched with the regiment, or rather in advance of it, for several weeks. By that time, they had penetrated many miles beyond the settlements, and Harrison began to feel anxious to ascertain the position of General Hopkins, and open communications with him. For this service Cutler volunteered, and was imnme THE BEQV IATORB 189 diately selected by the general. On the follow- ing morning, he set out with five men to seek the Kentuckians. He found them without diffi- culty and delivered his despatches; but from that day he was not seen, either in the camp of Hopkins or in that of Harrison! It was sup- posed that he had started on his return, and been taken or killed by the Indians, parties of whom were prowling about between the lines of the two columns. , Stone remained with his company two or three months longer, when, the enterprise of Hopkins having failed, and operations being suspended for the time, it was thought inex- pedient to retain them for the brief period which remained of their term of enlistment, and" they were discharged. Stone returned home, and, full of anticipations, the growth of a long absence, hastened at once to his own house. The door was closed, no smoke issued-from the chimney, there was no one there! After calling in vain for a long time, he ran away to her father's, endeavoring to feel certain that he would find her there. But the old man received him with a mournful shake of the head. Margaret had been gone more than a month, no one knew whither or with whom I page: 190-191[View Page 190-191] 190 AWEdT CRIEOTES. A report had been in circulation that Cutler was seen in the neighborhood, a few days before her disappearance; but no news having been received of his absence from the army, it had not been generally credited. But now, it was quite clear! The old man invited Stone to enter, but he declined. Sitting down on u log, he covered hi's face with his hands, for a few moments, and seemed buried in grief. It did not last long, however: he rose almost immediately, and going a little aside, calmly loaded his rifle. Without noticing the old man, who stood gazing at him in wonder, he turned away, and, with his eyes fixed upon the ground,'took the path toward his own house. He was seen to break -the door and enter, but he remained within only a few minutes. On coming out, he threw his rifle over his shoulder, and walked away through the forest. Half an hour afterward, smoke was seen issuing from the roof of the house in several places, and on repairing thither, the neighbors found the whole place in a bright flame! It was of no use to attempt to save it or any of its contents. An hour afterward, it was a heap of smouldering ruins, and its owner had- disap- peared from the country! TEE REGULATO R 191 Seven years passed away. The war was over: the Indians had been driven to the north and west, and the tide of emigraon had again set toward the Missis- sippi. The northwestern territory - especially that part of it which is now included within the limnits of Illinois and Indiana - was rapidly fil- ling up with people from the south and east. The advanced settlements had reached the site of Springfield, in the "Sangamon country," now the capital of Illinois, and a few farms were opened in the north of Madison county -now Morgan and Scott. The beautiful valley, most inaptly called, of the lauvaisterre, was then an unbroken wilderness. The grass was growing as high as the head of a tall man, where now well-built streets and public squares are traversed by hurrying crowds. Groves which have since become classic were' then impenetrable thickets; and the only guides the emigrant found, through forest and prairie, were the points of the compass, and the courses * The "Sangamon country," as the phrase was then used, included all the region watered by the river of that name, to- gether with the counties of Cass, Morgan, and eoutt, as far south as Apple oreek. - page: 192-193[View Page 192-193] 192 w Wv sBTN OHABACTERS. of streams. But in the years eighteen hundred and seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen, the west- t ern slope of the Sangamon country began rapidly to improve. Reports had gone abroad of " the fertility of its soil, the beauty of its surface, its genial climate, and its many ad- vantages of position" --and there is certainly no country which more richly deserves these praises. But the first emigrant who made his appear- ance here, in the autumn of eighteen hundred and nineteen, was probably moved by other considerations. It was none other than Abram Cutler! And his family consisted of a wife and three young children! That wife was Margaret Roberts -or rather Margaret Stone; for, not- withstanding the representations of Cutler, her union with Stone had been perfectly legal. By what arts he had succeeded in inducing her to elope' with him, we can only judge from his previous proceedings; but this is certain, that resentment toward Stone, who, she probably be- lieved, had unfairly trapped her, was as likely to move her impulsive and unstable spirit, as Any other motive. Add to this, the wound given to her vanity by the sudden departure of her young husband upon a long campaign, with THE REGTLATOE. 193 the acuteness given to this feeling by the arts of Cutler, and we shall not be at a loss to ex- plain her action. Whether she had not bitterly repented her criminal haste, we know not; but that hardship and suffering of some sort had preyed upon her - spirit, was evident in her appearance. Her beauty was much faded; she had grown pale and thin; and though she was scarcely yet in the prime of womanhood, her step was heavy and spiritless. She was not happy, of course, but her misery was not only negative: the' gnawings of remorse were but too positive and real! Cutler was changed almost as much as his victim. The lapse of seven years had added a score ti his apparent age; and, if we are to credit the representations of persons who were probably looking for signs of vice, the advance of time had brought out, in well-marked linea- ments, upon his countenance, the evil traits of his character. His cheeks were sunken, his features attenuated, and his figure exceedingly spare, but he still exhibited marks of great per- sonal strength and activity. His glance, always of doubtful meaning, was now unsettled and furtive; and I have heard one of the actors in this history assert, that it had a scared, appre- 9 page: 194-195[View Page 194-195] l -194 WESTERN CHAEBATERS. hensive expression, as if le were in constant expectation of meeting a dangerous enemy. Nor is this at all improbable, for during the seven years which had elapsed since the con- summation of his design upon Margaret, he had emigrated no less than three times-frightened away, at each removal, by some intimation, or suspicion, that the avenger was on his track! No wonder that his look was wary, and his face pale and haggard! On this, his fourth migration, he had crossed the prairies from the waters of the Wabash; and having placed the wide expanse of waving plain between him and the settlements, he at length considered himself safe from pursuit. Passing by -the little trading-station, where Springfield now stands, he traversed the beau- tiful country lying between that and the Mau- vaisterre. But the alternation of stately timber and lovely prairie had no charms for him: he sought not beauty or fertility, but seclusion; for his pilgrimage had become wearisome, and his step was growing heavy. Remorse was at his heart, and fear-the appealing face of his patient victim kept his crime in continual re- membrance -and he knew, that like a blood- hound, his enemy was following behind. It- THE BREG3LAROK. 19f was a weary load I No wonder that his cheeks were thin or his eyes wild! He passed on till he came to a quiet, secluded spot, where he thought himself not likely soon to be disturbed by emigration. It was sixteen miles west of the place where Jacksonville has since been built, upon the banks of the lower Mauvaisterre, seven miles from the Illinois river. The place was long known as Cutler's grove, but a town grew up around it, and has been christened by the sounding name of Exeter. Those who visit it now, and have heard the story of Cutler, will commend his judgment inl selecting it for retirement; for, town as it is, a more secluded, dreamy little place is norwhere to be found. It would seem that the passage of a carriage through its street--for it has but one--would be an event in its history; and the only things which redeem it, in the fancy, from the category of visionary existences, are a black- smith's shop and a mill! But Cutler's trail was seen upon the prairies, and. the course of many an emigrant was deter- mined by the direction taken by his prede- cessor. It was not long before others came to "settle" in the neighborhood. Emigration was page: 196-197[View Page 196-197] 196 wEsTERN CaRACTERS. gradually encroaching, also, from the south; families began to take possession of the river "bottoms;" the smoke from frontier cabins ascended in almost every point of timber; and by the summer of eighteen hundred an4d twenty, Cutler found himself as far from the frontier as ever! But he was resolved not to move again: a dogged spirit--half weariness, half despair - had taken possession of him. "I have moved often enough," he said to Margaret, " and here I am determined to remain, come what may!" Actuated by such feelings--goaded by a fear which he could not conquer, and yet was reso- lute not to indulge--the lurking devil in his nature could not long remain dormant. Nothing develops evil tendencies so rapidly as the con- sciousness of wrong and the fear of punishment. His life soon became reckless and abandoned, and the first sign of his degradation was his neglect of his household. For days together Margaret saw nothing of him; his only com- panions were the worthless and outlawed; and, when: intoxicating liquors could be procured, which was, fortunately, not often, he' indulged in fearful excesses. Of evil company, there was, unhappily, but too much; for the settlement was cursed with a THE REGULATOR. 197 band of desperadoes, exiles from organized so- ciety, who had sought the frontier to obtain impunity for their misdeeds. The leaders of this band were three brothers, whom no law could control, no obligation restrain; and with these men Cutler soon formed a close and sus- picious intimacy. The eyes of the citizens had been for some time directed toward the com- panions, by circumstances attending various depredations; and, though unknown to them- selves, they were constantly watched by many of their neighbors. It is uncertain whether Cutler was acquainted with the character uf the men when his association with them first com- menced, for in none of the places where he had lived, had he hitherto been suspected of crime. It is most probable that he sought their company because they were '" dissipated" like himself: and that, in the inception of their acquaintance, there was no other bond between them than the habit of intoxication. Hiad we time and space, we would fain pause here to reflect upon the position and feelings of the false wife -deserted, in her turn, by him for whom she had given up truth and honor- alone in the wilderness with her children, whose birth she could not but regret, and harassed by page: 198-199[View Page 198-199] t98 WaSBs'r c HARACTERS. thoughts which could not but be painfully self- condemnillg. But we must hasten on. In the autumn of eighteen hundred and twenty, information was brought to the settle- ment, that a store at Springfield (as it is now called), had been entered and robbed - that the leaders of the desperadoes above alluded to, were suspected - and that the goods stolen were believed to be concealed in Cutler's grove, where they lived. Warrants were issued, and the three were arrested; but the magistrate before whom they were taken for examination, was a timid and ignorant man; and by the inter- ference of Cutler, who assumed to be a lawyer, they were examined separately, and allowed to testify, each for the other! An officer who knew no more than to permit this, of course could do no less than discharge them. The arrest and examination, however, crude and in- formal as they were, confirmed the suspicions of the citizens, and directed them, more vehe- mently than ever, against Cutler, as well ag'his friends. It satisfied them, moreover, that they would never be able to reach these men through the ordinary forms of law, and strengthened the counsels of those who had already suggested the organization of a company of regulators. THE REGULATOR. 199 While these things were fermenting in the minds of the people, the desperadoes, encour- aged by their success, and rendered bold by im- punity, committed their depredations more frequently and openly than ever. It was re- marked, too, that Cutler, having committed himself at the examination of friends, was now more constantly and avowedly their associate; and, since he was not a man to play a second part, that they deferred to him on all occasions, never moving without him, and treating him at all times as an acknowledged leader. The people observed, moreover, that from being, like his neighbors, a small farmer of limited posses- sions, he rose rapidly to what, on the frontier, was considered affluence. He soon ceased to labor on his lands, and set up a very considera- ble "store," importing his goods from Saint Louis, and, by means of the whiskey he sold, collecting all the idle and vicious of the settle- ment constantly about him. His " store" was in exceedingly bad repute, and the scanty repu- tat'ion which he had retained after the public part he had taken before the magistrate, was speedily lost. Things were in this state in the spring of eighteen hundred and twenty-one, when an old page: 200-201[View Page 200-201] 200 WESTERN A TES. gentleman of respectable appearance, who had emigrated to this country by water, having been pleased with the land in the neighborhood of the place where the town of Naples now stands, landed his family and effects, and settled upon the "bottom."' It was soon rumored in the settlement, that he had brought with him a large amount of money; and it was also remarked that Cutler and his three companions were con- stantly with him, either at the "Grove" or on the "bottom." Whether the rumor was the cause of their attention, or their assiduity the foundation of the report, the reader must deter- mine for himself. One evening in May, after a visit to this man, where Cutler had been alone, he came home in great haste, and suddenly announced to Mar- garet his intention to " sell out," and move fur- ther westward I His unhappy victim supposed she knew but too well the meaning of this new movement: she asked no questions, but, with a sigh of weariness, assented: On the follow- ing day, he commenced hastily disposing of i his " store," his stock, his cabin -everything, in fact, save a few farming utensils, his furniture, and a pair of horses. It was observed-for there were many eyes'upon him-that he THV REGULATOR. ' 201 never ventured out after twilight, and, even in the broad sunshine, would not travel far, alone or unarmed. In such haste did he seem, that he sold many of his goods at, what his friends considered, a ruinous sacrifice. The fame of great bargains brought many people to his counter, so that, within ten days, his arrange- ments were complete; and, much to the satis- faction of his neighbors, he set out toward the river. Two of his associates accompanied him on his journey--a precaution for which he would give no reason, except that he wished to converse with them on the way. He crossed the Illinois near the mouth of the Mauvaisterre, and, turn- ing northward, in the evening reached a cabin on the banks of M'Kee's creek, not more than ten miles from his late residence. This house had been abandoned by its former occupant, on account of the forays of the Indians; but was now partially refitted, as for a temporary abode. Here, the people about 1 the grove" were sur- prised to learn, a few- days after Cutler's de- parture, that he had halted with the apparent intention to remain, at least for some time. Their surprise was dissipated, however, with- in a- very few weeks. The old gentleman, page: 202-203[View Page 202-203] 202 WTEJKN O HRBAACTERS. spoken of above, had left home upon a visit to Saint Louis; and during his absence, his house had been entered, and robbed of a chest con- taining a large amount of money -while the family were intimidated by the threats\ of men disguised as savages. This was the culmination of villany. The settlement was now thoroughly aroused; and, when one of these little communities was once in earnest, it might safely be predicted that something would be done / The first step was to call "a meeting of the j friends of law and order ;" but no proclamation -was issued, no handbills were circulated, no notices posted: not the least noise was made about the matter, lest those against whom it was to act, might hear of and prepare for it. They came together quietly but speedily- each man, as he heard of the appointment, going forthwith to his neighbor with the news. They assembled at a central point, where none Meed be late in coming, and immediately pro- ceeded to business. The meeting was not al- together a formal one- for purposes prescribed by law-but it was a characteristic of those men, to - do everything "decently and in orders--to give all their proceedings the THE REGULATOR. . 203- sanction and solemnity of mature deliberation. They organized the assemblage regularly-- calling one of the oldest and most respectable of their number " to the chair" (which, on this occasion, happened to be the root of a large oak), and appointing a younger man secretary (though they gave him no desk on which to write). There was no man there who did not fully understand what had brought them to- gether; but one who lived in the " bottom," and had been the mover of the organization, was still called upon to " explain the object of the meeting." This he did in a few pointed sentences, concluding with these significant words: "My friends, it is time that these ras- cals were punished, and it is our duty to punish them." tHe sat down, and a silence of some moments ensued, when another arose, and, without any preliminary remarks, moved that " a company of regulators be now organized, and that they be charged with the duty of seeing the law ad- ministered." The motion was seconded by half a dozen voices --the question was put in due form by the chairman, and decided unan- imously in the affirmative. A piece of paper was produced, and the pre- siding officer called on the meeting for volun. page: 204-205[View Page 204-205] 204 .WESTERS CoHARaCTERS. teers. Ten young men stepped forward, and gave their names as rapidly as the secretary could enrol them. In less than five minutes, the company was complete --the chairman and four of the meeting, as a committee, were di- rected to retire with the volunteers, and see that they were fully organized - and the meet. ing adjourned. All, except the volunteers and the committee, went directly home- satisfied that the matter needed no further attention. Those who remained entered the house and proceeded to organize in the usual manner. A " compact" was drawn up, by the terms of which the regulators bound themselves to each other, and to their neighbors, to ferret out and punish the perpetrators of the offences, which had recently disturbed the peace of the settlement, and to rid the country of such vil- lains as were obnoxious to the friends of lawi and order. This was then signed by the vol- lunteers as principals, and by the committee, as witnesses; and was placed in the hands of the chairman of the meeting for safekeeping. It is said to be still in existence, though I have never seen it, and- do not know where it is to be found. When this arrangement was completed, the committee retired, and the company repaired o^ TITHE REGULATOR. 205 to the woods, to choose a leader. They were not long in selecting a certain Major B----, who had, for some weeks, made himself con- spicuous, by his loud denunciations of Cutler and his associates, and his zealous advocacy of "strong measures." They had--one or two of them, at least--some misgivings about this appointment; for the major was inclined to be a blusterer, and the courage of these men was eminently silent. But after a few minutes' dis- cussion, the matter was decided, and the leader was chosen without opposition. They at once dispersed, to make arrangements for the per- formance of their duties - having first appoint- ed an hour and a place of meeting. They were to assemble at sunset on the same day, at the point where the state road now crosses the "bluff;" and were to proceed thence, without delay, to Cutler's house on M'Kee's creek, a distance of little more than eight miles. - There they were to search for the stolen property, and whether they found it or not, were resolved to notify Cutler to leave the country. But under no circumstances were they to take his life, un- less it became necessary in self-defence. The hour came, and with it, to the bluff, came all the regulators-save one. But that page: 206-207[View Page 206-207] 206 WESTERN CHAt sACTERS. one was a very important personage--none other, indeed, than the redoubtable major who was to head the party. The nine were there a considerable time before sunset, and waited patiently for their captain's arrival; though, already, there were whisperings from those who had been doubtful of him in the outset, that he would not keep his appointment. And these were right-for, though they wait- ed long beyond the time, the absentee did not make his appearance. It was afterward ascer- tained that he -excused himself upon the plea of sudden illness; but he was very well again on the following day, and his excuse was not received. The ridicule growing out of the affair, and his reduction from the rank of major to that of captain, in derision, finally drove him in disgrace from the country. His defection left the little company without a leader; and though they were determined not to -give up the enterprise, an obstacle to its prosecution arose, in the fact that no one was willing to replace the- absent captain. Each was anxious to play the part of a private, and all had come prepared to discharge the duties of the expedition, to the utmost of their ability. But they were all young men, and no one felt competent, to Take the responsibility of com- mand. THE BEGULATOR. . 207 They were standing in a group, consulting eagerly about. their course, and, as one of them -afterward said', "nearly at their wits" end," when the circle was suddenly entered by an- other. He had come upon them so noiselessly, and they had been Iso much absorbed in' their council, that no one saw him until he stood in their midst. Several of them, however, at once recognised him, as a hunter who had recently appeared in the southern part of the county, and had lived a singularly solitary life. No one knew his name, but, from his mode of life, he was already known among those who had heard of him, as "the wild hunter." He was but little above the medium height, and rather slender in figure; but he was well and -firmly built, and immediately impressed them with the idea of great hardihood and activity. His face, though bronzed by expo- sure, was still handsome and expressive; but there was a certain wildness in the eye, and a compression about the mouth, which gave it the expression of fierceness, as well as resolu- Ition. ,He was dressed in a hunting-shirt and "Ieggings"? of deerskin, fringed or " fingered" on the edges; and his head and feet were cov- ered, the one by a cap of panther's hide, and the others by motcasins of dressed buckskin. page: 208-209[View Page 208-209] 208 WESTERN CHARACTERS. At his belt hung a long knife, and in his hand he carried a heavy "Kentucky rifle." As he entered the circle, he dropped the breech of the latter to the ground, and, leaning calmly upon the muzzle, quietly surveyed the countenances of the group, in profound silence. The regulators -were too, much surprised to speak while this was going on; and the stran- ger seemed to be in no haste to open the con- versation. When he had finished his scrutiny, however, he, stepped back a pace or two, and resuming his easy attitude, addressed them:- "You must pardon me, my friends," he commenced, "when I tell you, that I have overheard all you have said in the last half hour. I did not remain in- that thicket, how- ever, for the purpose of eaves-dropping; but having accidentally heard one of yoti mention a name, the sound of which touches a chord whose vibrations you can not understand, I remained, almost against my own will, to learn more. I thus became acquainted with .the object of your meeting, and the dilemma in which you find yourselves placed by the ab- sence of your leader. Now, I have but little interest in this settlement, and none in the pres- ervation of peace, or the vindication of law, anywhere: but I have been seeking this man, THE RECULATOR. 209 Cutler, of whom you spoke, nearly nine years. I supposed, a few days ago, that I had at last found him; but on going to his house, I learned that he had once more emigrated toward the west. You seem to know where he is to be found, and are without a leader: I wish to find him, and, if you will accept my services, will fill the place of your absent captain!" He turned away as he finished, allowing them an opportunity for consultation among themselves. The question was soon decided: they called him back--announced their wil- lingness to accept him as their leader--and asked his name. "( My name is Stone," he replied. It was after nightfall when the little party set out from the bluff. They had, then, more than eight miles to travel, over a country en- tirely destitute of roads, and cut up by num- berless sloughs and ponds. They had, more- over, a considerable river to cross, and, after that, several miles of their way lay through a dense and pathless forest. But they were not the men to shrink from difficulties, at any time; and now they were carried along even more resolutely, by the stern, unwavering spirit of their new leader. Having once learned the page: 210-211[View Page 210-211] 210 WriTss ATERN O TERBS. direction, Stone put himself at the head of the party, and strode forward, almost "as the bird flies," directly toward the point indicated, re- gardless of slough,* and swamp, and thicket. He moved rapidly, too-so rapidly, indeed, as to tax the powers of some of his followers almost too severely. Notwithstanding this swiftness, however, they could not avoid a long delay at the river; and it was conse- quently near midnight, when, having at last accomplished a crossing, they reached the bank of M'Kee's creek, and turned up toward Cutler's house. This stood in the centre of a "'clearing," some two or three acres in extent; and upon reaching its eastern limit, the little company. halted to reconnoitre. Notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, they discovered that the people of the house were -still awake; and by a bright light, which streamed through the open door, they could see several men, sitting and standing about the room. "We shall make a good haul," said one of the regulators; "the whole gang is there." And immediately the party were for rushing forward. But Stone restrained themn. "My friends," said he, " you have taken me for your leader, and must obey my directions." THE i EQULATORB. 21 He then announced his determination to go forward alone; instructing his men, however, to follow at a little distance, but in no case to show themselves until he should give the sig- nal. They :agreed, though reluctantly, to this arrangement, and then--silently, slowly, but surely-the advance commenced. The hour had at last arrived! In the meantime, Cutler and his three friends were passing the time quite pleasantly over a bottle of backwoods nectar-commonly called whiskey. They seemed well pleased, too, with some recent exploit of theirs, and were evident- ly congratulating themselves upon their dex- terity ; for, as the "generous liquid" reeked warmly to their brains, they chuckled over it, and hinted at it, and winked knowingly at each other, as if they enjoyed both the recollection and the whisley--as they probably did, ex- ceedingly. There were four present, ,as we said--Cutler and the three worthies so often alluded to. These last sat not far from the open door; and each in his hand held a ker- chief, or something of that description, of which the contents were apparently very pre- cious ; for, at intervals of a few moments, each raised his bundle between him and the light, page: 212-213[View Page 212-213] 212: WEMTERN OHARACTERS. and then were visible many circular prints, as if made by the coinage of the mint. This idea was strengthened, too, by several piles of gold and silver, which lay upon the table near the bottle, to which Cutler directed no infrequent glances. They had all been indulging pretty freely in their devotions to the mythological liquid- rewarding themselves, like soldiers after storm- ing a hostile city, for their hardships and daring. There were a few coals in the chim- ney, although it was early in the autumn; and on them were lying dark and crumpled cinders, as of paper, over which little sparks were slowly creeping, like fiery insects. Cutler turned them over with his foot, and there arose a small blue, flickering blaze, throwing a faint, uncertain light beneath the table, and into the further corners of the room, and casting shadows of the money- bundles on the open door. If the betrayer could have-known what eyes were strained upon him, as he thus carelessly thrust his foot among the cinders, how changed his bearing would have been. Stone had now approached within fifty paces of the house, and behind him, slowly creeping after, were the regulators. A broad band of light streamed 1HE REGtlATOR. 213 out across the clearing from the door, while, on each side of this, all lay in shadow deepened by the contrast. Through the shadows, cautiously and silently came the footsteps of the avenger I There was no trepidation, no haste- the strange leader rather lingered, with a deadly slowness, as if the movement was a pleasant one, and he disliked to end it. But he never halted--not even for a moment-he caae, like fate, slowly, but surely! "Come, boys," said Cutler, and his voice penetrated the stillness quite across the clear- ing, "let us take another drink, and then lie down; we shall have a long journey to-morrow." They all advanced to, the table and drained the bottle. Cutler drank last, and then went back to the fire. He again stirred the smoul- dering cinders with his foot, and, turning about, advanced to close the door. 'But--he' halted suddenly in the middle of the room-- his face grew ashy pale--his limbs trembled with terror! Stone stepped upon the thresh- hold, and, without speaking, brought his rifle to his shoulder! Cutler saw that it pointed to his heart, but he had not the power to speak or move! "Villain!" said Stone, in a low, suppressed voice, , your hour has come, at last 1" page: 214-215[View Page 214-215] 214 WTMA CoWATtAMCMRa. Cutler was by no means a coward; by any one else he would not have been overcome, even for an instant. As it was, he soon recov- ered himself and sprang forward; but it was only to fall heavily to the floor; for at the same moment Stone fired, and the ball passed directly through his heart! A groan was the only sound he uttered-his arm moved, as in the act of striking, and then fell to the ground -he was dead! The regulators now rushed tumultuously into the house, and at once seized and pinioned the three desperadoes; while Stone walked slowly to the hearth, and resting the breech of his gun upon the floor, leaned calmly upon its muzzle. He -had beard a scream from above-a voice which he knew too well. Margaret had been aroused from sleep by the report of the gun; and now, in her night-dress, with her hair streaming in masses over her shoulders, she rushed down the rude stairway. Tile first ob- ject that met her wild gaze was the body of Cutler, stretched upon the floor and already stiffening in death. With another loud scream, she threw herself upon him - mingling lament- ations for his death, with curses upon his mur- fdterers. Stone's features worked convulsively, and 1i TIE REGCULATOR. 215 once or twice his hand grasped the hilt of the knife which hung at his belt. At last, with a start, he drew it from the sheath. But, the next moment, he dashed it into the chimney, and leaning his gun against the wall, slowly advanced toward the unhappy woman. Grasp- ing her arm, he lifted her like a child from the body to which she clung. Averting his head, he drew her, struggling madly, to the light; and having brought her face full before the lamp, suddenly threw off his cap, and turned his gaze directly into her eyes. A scream, louder and more fearful than any, before, rang even to the woods beyond the clearing; she closed her eyes and shuddered, as if she could not bear to look upon him, whom she had so deeply wronged. -He supported her on his arm, and perused her sunken and careworn features, for many minutes, in silence. Then slowly relaxing his grasp - "You have been punished sufficiently," he said; and seating her gently upon the floor, he quietly replaced his knife in its sheath, resumed his rifle, and left the house. He was never again seen by any of the par- ties; except -Margaret. She, soon after this event, returned to Virginia; and here Stone page: 216-217[View Page 216-217] 216 WESTEUX CrHAEAOTERS. paid her an annual visit. He always caime-with- out notice, and departed-as suddenly, always bearing his rifle, and habited as a hunter. At such times he sought to be alone with her but a few moments, and never spoke more than three words: "Your punishment continues," he would say, after gazing at her worn and haggard face for some minutes; and, then, throwing his rifle over his shoulder, he would again disappear for twelve months more. And truly her punishment did continue; for though no one accurately knew her history, she was an object of suspicion to all; and though she led almost exemplary life, her reputation was evil, and her misery was but too evident. One after the other, her children died, and she was left utterly alone! At last her lamp also began to flicker, and when Stone arrived in the country, upon his twelfth annual visit, it was but to see her die, and follow her to the grave I He-received her last breath, but no one knew what passed between them in that awful hour. On the day after her burial he went away and returned no more. The regulators hastily dug a grave on the bank of the creek, and in the silence of the night placed Cutler within it. Then, taking THE REGULATOR. 21T. possession of the stolen money, they released their prisoners, notifying them to leave the country within ten days, and returned to the east side of the river. A few years ago, a little mound might be seen, where they had heaped the dirt upon the unhappy victim of his own passions. It was " the first grave" in which a white man was buried in that part of the Illinois valley. At the expiration of the ten " days of grace," it became the duty of the regulators to see that their orders had been obeyed; and, though the death of Cutler had been more than they had designed or foreseen, they had no disposition to neglect it. They met, accordingly, on the morn- ing of the eleventh day, and having chosen a new leader, proceeded to Cutler's grove. They found the houses of all those to whom they had given "notice" deserted excepting one. This was the cabin of the youngest of the three brothers; and declaring his intention to remain, in defiance of regulators and "Lynch law," he put himself upon his defence. Without cere- mony the regulators set fire to the house in which he had barricaded himself, and ten minutes sufficed to smoke him out. They then discovered what they had not before known: 10 page: 218-219[View Page 218-219] 218 WESTORN COHAECTEES. that his elder brothers were also within; and when the three rushed from the door, though taken by surprise, they were not thrown off their guard. The trio were at once seized, and, after a sharp struggle, securely pinioned.- A short consultation then decided their course, Leaving the house to burn -at leisure, they posted away for the river, driving their prisoners before them, and a march of three hours brought them to the mouth of the Mauvaisterre. Here they constructed a "raft," by tyingjhalf-a-dozen drift-logs together, and warning them that death would be the penalty of a return, they placed their prisoners upon it, pushed it into the middle of the stream, and set them adrift without oar or pole! Although this seems quite severe enough, it was a light punishment compared t9 that sometimes administered by regulators; and in this case, had not blood been spilt when they - did not intend it, it is probable that the culprits would have been first tied to a tree, and thoroughly " lynched." The involuntary navigators were not rescued from their unpleasant position until they had nearly reached Saint Louis; and though they ill swore vengeance in a loud voice, not one of them was ever again seen in the Sangamon- country. THE REaGULATOR. 219' Vigorous measures, like those we have de- tailed, were usually effectual in restoring good (order. Where there was no trial, there was no room for false witnesses; and where a punish- ment, not unfiequently disproportioned to the offence, so rapidly and certainly followed its commission, there was little prospect of im- punity, and therefore slight inducement to violate the law. In most localities, it required but few severe lessons to teach desperadoes that prudence dictated their emigration; and, it must be acknowledged, that the regulators were prompt and able teachers. But we should give only a partial and incom- plete view of this institution (for such, in fact, it was), 'were we to notice its uses and say nothinglof its abuse; because, like everything else partaking so largely of the mob element, it was liable to most mischievous perversions. Had the engine been suffered to rest, when it had performed its legitimate functions, all would have been well; but the great vice of the sys- tem was its obstinate vitality: it refused to die when its life was no longer useful. As soon as the danger was past, and the call for his services had ceased, the good citizen, who alone could confine such .a system to its proper limits, retired from its ranks: it was con- page: 220-221[View Page 220-221] 220 WESTERN chAReAO t s. sequently left, with all its dangerous authority, in the hands of 'the reckless and violent. The selfish and designing soon filled up the places of the sober and honest, and from being a terror to evil-doers, and a protection to the peaceful citizen, it became a weapon in the hands of the very moen against whom it should have been directed. When this came to be the case, the institution was in danger of doing more harm in its age, than it had accomplished of good in its youth. But it must not thence be inferred that it should never have been adopted, or that it was vicious in itself. In seasons of public danger, extraordinary powers are often intrusted to individuals-powers which nothing but that danger can justify, and which would constitute the dictators intolerable despots, if they were retained after the crises are passed. -The Con- gress of our confederacy, for example, found it necessary, at one period of our Revolutionary struggle, to invest Washington with such authority; had he exercised it beyond the pressure of immediate peril, the same outcry which has been made against others in similar circumstances, would have been justly raised against him. And most men, less soberly con- stituted than Washington, would have en- THE , GT TOBR. $g deavored to retain it; for power is a pleasant thing, which few have the self-denial to resign without a struggle. The wrong consists not in the original delegation of the authority-for that is justified by the highest of all laws, the flaw of self-preservation-but in its retention and exercise, when the exigency no longer sup- port it. Having parted with the authority to redress grievances, and provide for protection and de- fence, the citizen can not at once recover it- it remains for a'time in the hands of the repre- sentatixv and is always difficult to regain. But it does not therefore follow, that he should never intrust it to another, for the inconveni- ence sometimes resulting from its delegation, is one of the incidents to human life, teaching, not obstinacy or jealousy, but circumspection. The following story, related by one who is well-acquainted with the early history of this country, will illustrate the manner in which the regulator system was sometimes made subser- vient to men's selfish purposes; and there have, unhDappily, been too many instances, in which such criminal schemes were more successful than they were in this, I have entitled it ":The Stratagem'. page: 222-223[View Page 222-223] 229 W'EdrITl N COTR A OTERS. THE S TRATAGEM. ROBERT ELWOOD emigrated from Kentucky to Illinois,- about the year in which the latter was erected into a state, and passing to the north- 'west of the regions then occupied by the French and Virginians, pitched his tent upon the very verge of-the frontier. He, was a man of violent passions, impatient of the restraints of law- arrogant, overbearing, and inclined to the use of " the strong-hand." His removal had been caused by a difficulty with one of his neighbors, in which he had attempted to right himself without an appeal to the legal tribunals. In this attempt, he had not only been thwarted, but also made to pay rather roundly for his temerity; and, vexed and soured, he had at once abandoned his old name, and marched off :across the prairies, seeking a country in which, as he said, a man need not meet a cursed con- stable every time he left his own door." His family consisted'of three sons and one daughter, the latter being, at the time of his emigration, about sixteen years of age. In journeying toward the north, he halted one day, at noon, within a "point" of timber, i THE REGULATOR,. .223 which extended a mile into the prairie, and was surrounded by as beautiful a piece of rol- ling meadow-land, as one need wish to see. He was already half-a-day's journey beyond the thicker settlements; and, indulging a reason- able hope that he would not speedily be an- noyed by neighbors, he at once determined here to erect his dwelling and' open a new farm. With this view, he marked off a tract of about four hundred acres, including the point of timber in which he was encamped; and 'before the heats of summer came on, he had a cabin ready for his reception, and a con- siderable amount of grain planted. About a mile to the south, there was a simi- lar strip of timber, surrounded, like that of which he -took possession, by a rich tract of "rolling prairie ;" and this he at once resolved to include in his farm. But, reflecting that if must probably be some years, before any ont else would enter the neighborhood to take i up-and having, only the assistance of hi sons, but two of whorm had reached manhood. --he turned his attention, first, to the trac upon which he lived. This was large enoug! to engross his efforts for the present; and, fo' two years, he neglected to do anything towari, establishing his claim to the land he coveted. page: 224-225[View Page 224-225] 224 WESTERN CHARAITERS. It is true, that he told several of his neighbors, -who had now begun to settle around him, that he claimed that piece, and thus prevented their enclosing it; but he neither "blazed" nor marked the trees, nor "staked off " the prairie. In the meantime emigration had come in, so much more rapidly than he had expected, that he found himself the centre of a populous neighborhood; and among other signs of ad- vancing civilization, a company of regulators had been organized, for the protection of'life and property. Of this band, Elwood, always active and forward, had been chosen leader; and the vigor and severity with which he had exercised his functions, had given a degree of quiet to the settlements, not usually enjoyed by these frontier commiunities, One example had, at the period of the opening of our story, but recently been made; and its extreme rigor had frightened away' from the neighborhood, those who had hitherto disturbed its peace. This was all the citizens desired; and, having accomplished their ends, safety and tranquillity, those whose conservative character had pre- vented the regulator system from running into excesses, withdrew from its ranks--but took no measures to have it broken up. It was thus THE REGULATOR. 225 left, with recognised authority, in the hands of ,Elwood, and others of his violent and unscru- pulous character. Things were in this position, when, on his return from an expedition of some length, El- wood bethought him of the handsome tract of land, upon which he had so long ago set his heart. What were his surprise and rage on learning-a fact, which the absorbing nature of his regulator-duties had prevented his know- ing sooner - that it was already in possession of another! And his mortification was im- measurably increased, when he was told, that the man who had thus intruded upon what he considered his own proper demesne, was none other than young Grayson, the son of his old Kentucky enemy! Coming into the neighbor- hood, in the absence of Elwood, the young man, finding so desirable a tract vacant, had at once, taken possession; and by the return of the regulator had almost finished a neat and "roomy" cabin. He had " blazed" the trees, too, and " staked off" the prairie--taking all those steps then deemed necessary, on the fron- tier, to complete appropriation. Elwood's first step was to order him peremnp- torily, to desist, and give up his "improve- ment"--threatening him, at the same time, 10',. page: 226-227[View Page 226-227] 226 WESTERN CHARACTERS. with certain and uncertain pains and penalties, if he refused to obey. But Grayson only laugh- ed at his threats, and went stoutly on with his work. When the young men, whom he had hired to assist him in building his house, gave him a- friendly warning, that Elwood was the leader of a band of regulators, and had power to make good his' menaces, he only replied that "he knew how to protect himself, and, when the time came, should not be found wanting?" Elwood retired from the contest, discomfited, but breathing vengeance; while Grayson fin- ished his house and commenced operations on his farm. But those who knew the headlong violence of Elwood's character, predicted that these operations would soon be interrupted, and they were filled with wonder, when month after month passed away, and there were still no signs of a collision. In the meantime, it came to be rumored in the settlement, that there was some secret con- nection between Grayson and Elwood's daugh- ter, Hannah. They had been seen by several persons in close conversation, at times and Iplaces which indicated a desire for conceal- ment; and one person even went so far as to say, that he had been observed to kiss her, on part- THE REGULATOR. 22$ ing, late in the evening. Whatever xIay havi been the truth in that matter, it is, at all events certain, that Grayson was an unmarried man' and that the quarrel between the parents of the pair in Kentucky, had broken up an intimacy, which bade fair to issue inr a marriage; and it is probable, that a subordinate if not a primary, motive, inducing him to take possession of the disputed land, was a desire to be near Hannah. Nor was this wish without its appropriate justi- fication; for, though not strictly beautiful, Hannah was quite pretty, and- what is better in a frontier girl - active, fresh, and rosy. At the time of Grayson's arrival in the settlement, she was a few months past eighteen; and was as fine material for a border wife, as could be found in the new state. The'former intimacy was soon renewed, and before the end of two months, it was agreed that they should be married, as soon as her father's-consent could, be obtained. But this was not so easily compassed; for, all this time, Elwood had been brooding over his defeat, and devising ways and means of recovering the much-coveted land. At length, after many consultations with a fellow named Driscol, who acted as his lieuten- ant in the regulator company, he acceded to a page: 228-229[View Page 228-229] 228 WESTERN CHARACTERS. i proposition, made long before by that worthy, but rejected by Elwood on account of its dis- honesty. He only adopted the plan, now, be- cause it was apparently the orily escape from permanent defeat; and long chafing under what he considered a grievous wrong, had made him reckless of means, and determined on success, at whatever cost. One morning, about a week after the taking of this resolution, it was announced that one of Elwood's horses had been stolen, on the night before; and the regulators were straightway assembled, to ferret out and punish so daring an offender. It happened (accidently, of course) to be a horse which had cast one of its shoes, only the day before; and this circum- stance rendered it easy to discover his trail. Driscol, Elwood's invaluable lieutenant, dis- covered the track and set off upon it, almost as easily as if he had been present when it was made. He led the party away into the prairie toward the east; and though his companions declared that they could now see nothing of the trail, the sharp-sighted lieutenant swore that it was "as plain as the nose on his face" --truly, a somewhat exaggerated expression: for the color, if not -the size, of that feature in THEE REGULATOR. '229 his -countenance, made it altogether too appa- rent to be overlooked! They followed him, however, convinced by the earnestness of his asseverations, if not by their own eyes, until, after going a mile toward the east, he began gradually to verge southward, and, having wound about at random for some time, finally took a direct course-, for the point of timber on which Grayson lived! On arriving at the point, which terminated, as usual, in a dense hazel-thicket, Driscol at once pushed his way into the covert, and lo! there stood the stolen horse! tHe was tied to a sapling by a halter, which was clearly recognised as the property of Grayson, and leading off toward the latter's house, was traced a man's footstep--Ahis, of course! These appearances fully explained the theft, and there was not a man present, who did not express a decided conviction that Grayson was the thief. Some one remarked that his boldness was greater than his shrewdness, else he would not have kept the horse so near. But Driscol de- clared, dogmatically, that this was "the smartest thing in the whole business," since, if the trail could be obliterated, Ino one would think of looking there for a horse stolen only a mile above I "The calculation" was a good one, he page: 230-231[View Page 230-231] '230 WESTERN CHARACTERS. sai'dAnd it only failed of success because he, Driscol, happened to have a remarkably sharp sight for all tracks, both of horses and men. To this proposition, supported by ocular evidence, the regulators assented, and Driscol stock, pre- viouisly somewhat depressed by sundry good causes, forthwith rose in the regulator market to a -respectable premium! Having recovered the stolen property, the next question which presented itself for their consideration, was in what way they should punish the thief. To such men as they, this was not a difficult problem: without much de- liberation, it was determined that he must be at once driven from the country. The " days of grace," usually given on such occasions, were ten, and in pursuance of this custom, it was resolved that Grayson should be mercifully allowed that length of time, in which to arrange his affairs and set out for a new home: or, as the regulators expressed it, "make himself scarce." Driscol, having already, by his praise- worthy efforts in the cause of right, made him- self the hero of the affair, was invested with authority to notify Grayson of this decree. The matter being thus settled, the corps adjourned to meet again ten days thereafter, in order to see that their judgment was duly carried into effect. , . THE REGULATOR. '231 Meantime, Driscol, the official mouthpiece of the self-constituted court of general jurisdic- tion, rode away to discharge himself of his onerous duties. Halting at the low fence which enclosed the scanty door-yard he gave the cus- tomary "Halloo! the house!" and patiently awaited an answer. It was not long, however, before Grayson issued from the door and ad- vanced to the fence, when Driscol served the process of the court in; hAo verba: - "Mr. Grayson, the regulators of this settle- ment have directed me to give you ten days' notice to leave the country. They will meet again one week from next Friday, and if you are not gone by that time, it will become their duty to punish you in the customary way." "What for?" asked Grayson, quietly. "For stealing this horse," the functionary replied, laying his hand on the horse's mane, "and concealing him in the timber with the in- tention to run him off." "It's Elwood's horse, isn't it 2" "Yes," answered Driscol, somewhat surprised at Grayson's coolness. "When was he stolen?" asked the notified. "Last night," answered the official; ' I sup- pose you know very well without being told." "Do you, indeed!" said Grayson, smiling page: 232-233[View Page 232-233] -232 WESZRN CHARACTERS. absently. And then he bent his eyes upon the ground, and seemed lost in thought for some minutes. "Well, well," said he at length, raising his eyes again. "I didn't steal the horse, Driscol, but I suppose you regulators know best who ought to be allowed to remain in the settlement, so of course I shall have to obey." "I am glad to find you so reasonable," said Driscol, making a movement to ride away. "Stop! stop!" said Graysori: " do n't be in a hurry! I shall be gone before the ten days are up, and you and I may not meet again for a long time, so get down and come in: let us take a parting drink together. I have some excellent whiskey, just brought home." Now, the'worthy functionary, as we have in- timated, or as the aforesaid nose bore witness, was " quite partial" to this description of prod- uce: some of his acquaintances even insinuating that he took sometimes " a drop too much ;" and though he felt some misgiving about remaining in Grayson's company longer than his official duties required, the temptation was too strong for him, and, silencing his fears, he sprang to the ground. "Tie your horse to the fence, there," said Grayson, "and come in."' Driscol obeyed, and aY- THE REGtUTLTO-. 233 it was not long before he was seated in the cabin with a tin-cup in his hand, and its gener- ous contents finding their way rapidly down his capacious throat. "Whiskey is a pleasant drink, after all, isn't it?" said Grayson, smiling at the gusto with which Driscol dwelt upon the draught, and at the same moment he rose to set his cup on the table behind the official. "Very pleasant indeed," said Driscol, in reply, and to prove his sincerity, he raised 'his cup again to his lips. But this time he was not destined to taste its contents. It was suddenly dashed from his hand-a saddle-girth was thrown over his arms and body-and before he was aware of what was being done, he found himself securely pinioned to the chair! A rope was speedily passed round his legs, and tied, in like manner, behind, so that he could, literally, move neither hand nor foot! He made a furious effort to break away, but he would not have been more -secure had he been in the old- fashioned stocks! He was fairly entrapped, and thollgh he foamed, and swore, and threatened, it all did no manner of good. Of this he at length became sensible, and grinding his teeth in impotent rage, he relapsed into dogged silence. Having thoroughly secured his prisoner, page: 234-235[View Page 234-235] '234 WESTER COHAROTCERS. Grayson, who was something of a wag, poured out a small quantity of the seductive liquor, and coming round in front of the ill-used official, smiled graciously in his face, and drank "a healtli"- "Success to you, Mr. Driscol," said he, "and long may you continue an ornament to the dis- tinguished company of which you are an honored officer!" Driscol ground his teeth, but made no reply, and the toast was drunk, like some of those im- pressive sentiments given at public dinners, " in profound silence!" . Having drained the cup, Grayson deposited it upon the table and himself in a chair; and, drawing the latter up toward his companion, opened the conference thus: - "I think I have you pretty safe, Driscol: eh!" The lieutenant made no reply. "I see you are not in a very sociable humor," continued Grayson; " and, to tell you the truth, I am not much that way inclined myself: but I am determined to get to the bottom of this affair before you shall leave the house. I am sure you know all about it; and if you don't, why the worse for you, that's all." "What do you mean?" demanded Driscol, speaking for the first time. THE :REGULATOR. 235 "I mean this," Grayson answered sternly: "I did not take that horse from Elwood's -but you did: I saw you do it. But since my testi- mony will not be received, I am, determined that you shall give me a certificate in writing that -such is the fact. You needn't look so obstinate, for by the God that made us both! you shall not leave that chair alive, unless you do as I say!" Grayson was a large, rather fleshy man, with a light complexion and blue eyes; and, though good-natured and hard to arouse, when once in earnest, as now, like all men of his stamp, he -both looked, and was, fully capable of carrying his menaces into execution. The imprisoned functionary did not at all like the expression of his eye, lhe quailed before it in fear and shame. He was, however, resolved not to yield, except upon the greatest extremity. "Come," said Grayson, producing materials for writing; "here are pen, ink, and paper: are you willing to write as I dictate?" "No," said Driscol, doggedly. "We'll see if I can't make you willing, then," muttered his captor; and, going to the other end of the cabin, he took down a coil of rope, which hung upon a peg, and returned to his captive. Forming a noose at one end, he placed it about Driscol's neck, and threw the page: 236-237[View Page 236-237] S2G WA d STErN OHAOTERS. othier end over a beam which supported the roof. "Are you going to murder me?" demanded the official in alarm. "Yes," answered Grayson, drawing the loose end down, and tightening me noose about Dris- col's throat. "You'll suffer -for this," said the lieutenant furiously. "That won't help you much," coolly replied Grayson, tugging at the rope, until one leg of the chair gave signs of rising from the floor, and Driscol's face exhibited unmistakable symp- toms of incipient strangulation. -"Stop! ltop!" he exclaimed, in a voice re- duced to a mere wheeze - and Grayson "' eased off" to helr him. "Won't anything else satisfy you but a writ- ten certificate?" he asked - speaking with dif- ficulty, and making motions as if endeavoring to swallow something too large- to pass the gate of his throat. "Nothing but that," answered Grayson, de- cidedly; " and if you don't give it to me, when your regulator friends arrive, instead of me, they will find you, swinging from this beam by the neck.!"And, seeing his victim hesitate, he again tugged at the rope, until the same signs et MOTOE T. at were exhibited as before-only a little more apparently. "IHo--hold, Grayson!" begged the fright- ened and strangling lieutenant; and, as his ex- ecutioner again relaxed a little, 'he continued: "Just let me up, and I'll do anything you want." "That is to say," laughed Grayson, "you would rather take the chances of a fight, than be hung up like a sheep-stealing dog! Let you up, indeed!"And once more he dragged the rope down more vigorously than ever. "I - didn't -mean that - indeed!" gulped the unhappy official, this time almost strangled in earnest. "What- did you mean then?" sternly de.. manded Grayson, relaxing a little once again. "I will write the certificate.," moaned the unfortunate lieutenant, " if you will let one arm loose, and won't tell anybody until the ten days' are out" "Why do you wish it kept secret!" "If I give such a certificate as you demand," mournfully answered the disconsolate officer, "'I shall have to leave the country-and I want time to get away." "Oh! that's it, is it? Well - very well." About an hour after -this, Driscol issued from page: 238-239[View Page 238-239] 2388: ^ XWESTSITN. CHAEBU EuS. - the house, :and, springing upon the horse, rode away at a gallop toward Elwood's. Hele he left the animal, but declined to enter; telling Hannah, who happened to be in the yard, to say to her father that "it was all righllt," he pushed on toward home--tenderly rubbing his throat, first with the right hand and then with the left, all the way. Three days after- ward, he disappeared from the settlement, and was heard of no more. Grayson waited until near nightfall, and then took his way, as usual, to a little clump of trees, that stood near Elwood's enclosures, to meet Hannah. Here he stayed more than an hour, detailing the circumstances 6f the ac- cusation against him, and'laughing with her, over. the ridiculous figure cut by her father's respectable / lieutenant. Before they parted their plans were all arranged, and Grayson went home in excellent humor. What these plans were, will be seen in the sequel. Eight days went by without any event im- portant to our story-Hannah and Grayson- meeting each evening, in the grove, and parting again' undiscovered. On the ninth day, thei former went to the house of a neighbor, where it was understood that she was to remain dur- v THE BEGULATORB. 239 ing the night, and return home on the follow- ing morning. Grayson remained on his farm until near sunset, when he mounted his horse and rode away. This was the last of his " days of grace;" and those who saw him passing along the'road, concluded that he had yielded to the dictates of prudence, and was leaving the field. On the following morning, the regulators as- sembled to see that their orders had been obeyed; and, though Elwood was a little dis- concerted by the absence of Driscol, since it was understood that Grayson had left the country, the meeting was considered only a formal one, and the presence of the worthy lien- tenant was not indispensable. . They proceeded in high spirits to the premises, expecting to find the house deserted and waiting, for an oc- cupant. Elwood was to take immediate pos- session, and, all the way across the prairie, was felicitating himself upon the ease and rapidity of his triumph. What was their surprise, then, on apprqching the house, to see smoke issuing from the chimney, as usual-the door thrown wide open, and Grayson standing quietly in front of it! The party halted and a qouncil was called, but its deliberations were by no means tedious: it was. forthwith determined, ^ ' page: 240-241[View Page 240-241] 24A I WEBERN CARS. that Grayson stood in efiance of the law, and must be punished -that is, " lynched"--with- out delay! The object of this fierce decree, all- unarmed as he was,.still stood near the door, while the company slowly approached the fence. He- then advanced and addressed them:- "I think -the ten days are not up yet, gen- tlemen," said he mildly. "Yes, they are," answered Elwood quickly; "and we are here to know whether you intend to obey the authorities, and leave the country?" "I think, Elwood," said the young man, not directly replying, ".this matter can be settled between you me, without bloodshed, and even without trouble. If you will come in with George and John [his sons], I will introduce you to my wife, and we can talk it over, with a glass of whiskey." Another consultation ensued, when, in order to prove'their dignified moderation, they agreed that Elwood and his sons should "go in and see what he had to say." Elwood, the elder, entered first: directly be- fore him, holding her sides and shaking with- laughter, stood his rosy daughter,. HFannah! "My wife, gentlemen," said Grayson, grave- ly introducing them. Hannah's laughter ex- ploded. . . THE REGULATOR. 4:1 "O, father, father: father!" she exclairneh, leaning forward and extending her hands; "a'n't you caught, beautifully!" The laugh was contagious; and though the elder knit his brows, and was evidently on the point of bursting with very different emotions, his sons yielded to its-influence, and;, joining Hannah and her husband, laughed loudly, peal after peal! The father could bear it no longer -he seized Hannah by the arm and shook her violently, till she restrained herself sufficiently to speak; as for him, he was speechless with rage. "It's entirely too late to make a ' fuss,' father," she said at length "for here is the marriage- certificate, and Grayson is your son!" "I have not stolen your horse, /Elwood," said the bridegroom, taking the paper which the' father rejected, " though I have run away with your daughter. And," he added, significantly, "since if you had this land, you would probably give it to Hannah, I think you and I had better be friends, and I'll take it as her marriage- portion." "If you can show that you did not take the horse, Grayson," said George, the elder of the two sons, "I'll answer for that: but--" "That I can do very easily," interrupted the " page: 242-243[View Page 242-243] 242 - ESTERN CHARACTERS. young husband, "I have the proof in my pocket." He -caught Elwood's eye as he spoke, and re- assured him with a look, for he. could see that "the old man began to apprehend an exposure in the presence of his sons. This forbearance did more to reconcile him to -his discomfiture than aught else, save the influence of George; for, like all passionate men, he was easily swayed by his cooler children. While Hannah and her brothers examined the marriage certificate, and laughed over (" the stratagem," Grayson drew Elwood aside and exhibited a paper, written in a cramped, uneven hand, as follows :- "This is to certify, that it was not Josiah Grayson who took Robert Elwood's horse fFom his stable, last night-but I took him myself, 'by arrangement, so as to accuse Grayson of the -theft, and drive him to leave his new farm. "THOMAs DIISCOL." Elwood blushed as he came to the words " by arrangement," but read on without speaking. Grayson then related the manner in which he had entrapped the lieutenant, and the joke soon put him in a good humor. The regulators were called in, and heard the explanation, and all laughing heartily over the capture of Driscol, they insisted that Hannah and her husband L ITHE BREGULATOR. 243 should mount, and ride with them to Elwood's. Neither of them needed much persuasion - the whole party rode away together- the "lads and lasses" of the neighborhood were sum- moned, and the day and night were spent in merriment and dancing. Grayson and his wife returned on the follow- ing morning to their new home, where a life of steady and honorable industry, was rewarded with affluence and content. Their descendants still live upon the place, on6 of the most beau- tiful and extensive farms upon that fertile prairie. But on the spot where the disputed cabin stood, has since been built a handsome brick-house, and I pay only a just tribute to amiable character, when I say that a more htos- pitable mansion is not to be found in the western country. This was the last attempt at " regulating" in that region, for emigration came in so rapidly, that the supremacy of the law was soon asserted and maintained. Whenever this came to be so, the regulators, of course, ceased to be types of the state of society, and were succeeded by other characters and institutions. To these we must now proceed. page: 244-245[View Page 244-245] 2MA -E W AIA ERS. pNom--The following is a copy :of ea compaet, such us iL spoken of in the story of the "The First Grave," entered into by a company of regulators in somewhat similar circumstances. I am not sure that I can -vouch for its authenticity, but all who are familiar with the history of those times, will recognise, in its peculiarities, the characteristics of the people who then in- habited this country. The affectation of legal form in such a document as this, would be rather amusing, were it not quite too significant; at all events, it is entirely "in keeping" with the constitution of a race who had some regard for law and its vindication, even in their most high-handed acts. The technical phraseology, used so strangely, is easily traceable to the little "Justice's Form Book," which was then almost the only law document in the country; and though the words are rather awkwardly combined, they no doubt gave solemnity to the act in the -eyes of its sturdy signers;-- "K-now all men by these presents: I "That we [here follow twelve names], citizens -of- settlement, in the state of Illinois, have this day, jointly and severally, bound ourselves together as a company of Rangers and Regulators, to protect this settlement against the crimes and misdemeanors of, all and singular, every person or persons whomsoever, and especially against all horse-thieves, renegades, and robbers. And we do by these presents, hereby bind our- selves, jointly and severally as aforesaid, unto each other, and to the fellow-citizens of this settlement, to punish, according to, the- code of his honor, Judge Lynch, all violations of the law, against the peace and dignity of the said people of --- settlement; and to discover and bring to speedy punishment, all illegal combinations--to rid the country of such as are dangerous to the welfare of this settlement-to 'preserve the peace, and generally to vindicate the law, within the settlement aforesaid. All of which purposes we are to aceomplish as PI THE REGIULATOR. 243 peaceably as possible: but toe are to accomplish them ome way or another. "In testimony whereof, we have hereunto set our hands and affixed our seals, this twelfth day of October, Anno Domini, eighteen hundred and twenty. (Signed by twelve men.) "Acknowledged and subscribed in the presence of I C - c. T. H.---- . ,J-- p. D-D, and five others, who seem to have been a portion of " the fellow- ,citizens of this settlement," referred to in the document.] page: 246-247[View Page 246-247] VI. THE JUSTICE OF THE PEACE. (' I beseech you, Wrest once the law to your authority: To do a great right, do a little wrong."- MERCHANT OF VENICE. THE reign of violence, when an evil at all, is an evil which remedies itself: the severity of its proceeding hastens the accomplishment of its ends, as the hottest fire soonest consumes its fuel. A nation will endure oppression more patiently immediately after a spasmodic re- bellion or a bloody revolution, than at any other time; and a community requires less law to govern it, after a violent and illegal assertion of the law's supremacy, than was necessary before the outhreak. After having thrown off the yoke of a knave-and perhaps hung the knave up by the neck, or chopped his head off with an axe - manlrind not unfrequently fall under the control of a fool; frightened at their temerity in dethroning an idol of metal, they bow down before a paltry statue of wood, THE JUSTICE OF THE PEAOE. 247 Men are not easily satiated with power, but when it is irregular, a pause in its exercise must eventually come. And there is a principle of human nature, which teaches, that whatsoever partakes of the mob-spirit is, at best, but tem- porary, and ought to have a speedy end. This is especially true of such men as first perma- nently peopled the western country; for though they sometimes committed high-handed and unjustifiable acts, the moment it was discovered that they had accomplished the purposes of order, they allowed the means of vindication to fall into disuse. The regulator system, for ex- . ample, was directed to the stern and thorough punishment of evil men, but no sooner was ; society freed from their depredations, than the well-meaning citizens withdrew from its ranks; and, though regulator'companies still patroled : the country, and, for a time, assumed as much authority as ever, they were not supported by the solid approbation of those who alone could! give them lasting strength. They did many outrageous things for which they were never punished, and for some years, the shield which the good citizen had raised above his head for protection and defence, threatened to fall upon and crush him. But the western VeeTple are not the first who have been temporarily enslaved page: 248-249[View Page 248-249] 9s4 W,rK'1 CjBtRACTES. by-their liberators, though, unlike many another race, they waited patiently for the changes of years, and time brought them a remedy. As the government waxed stronger, and public opinion assumed a direction, the regula- tors, like their predecessors, the rangers, found their, occupation gone," and gradually faded out from the land. Proclamations were issued ;--legislatures met-laws were enacted, and officers appointed to execute them; and though lforcing a legal system upon a people who had /so long been "a law unto themselves," was a. slow and difficult process, it was powerfully I assisted by the very disorders consequent upon their attempts at self-government. They had burnt their hands by seizing the hot iron-rod of irregular authority, and were, therefore, better inclined to surrender the baton to those who' ! could handle it. Like Frankenstein, they had created a power which they could not imme- diately control: the regulators, from being their servants, had come to be their masters: and they willingly admitted any authority which promised deliverance. They had risen in wrath, and- chastised, with no hesitating hand, the violators of their peace; but the reaction had taken place, and they were now content to be r THE Joulfli oTHE PEAC. 249 governed by whatsoever ruler Providence might send them. The state governments were established, then, / without difficulty, and the officers of the new j law pervaded every-settlement. The character ' which I have selected as the best representative of this period, is one of these new officers-- the early justice of the peace. So far as history or tradition informs us, there was, never yet a country in which appointments to office were invariably made with reference only to qualification, and though the west is. an exception to more than one general rule, in this, respect we must set it down in the common cate- gory. The lawyer-period had not yet arrived; and, probably, there was never an equal number of people in any civilized country, of whom a larger proportion were totally ignorant of legal forms. There were not three in each hundred who had ever seen the inside of a courthouse, and they were quite as few who had once looked upon a law-book! Where such was the case, some principle of appointment was of course necessary, other than that which required fitness, by training, for the office conferred; and it is probable that the rule adopted was but little. different to that in force among those who have h 1l page: 250-251[View Page 250-251] 250 WESTERN CHARACTERS. the appointing power, where no such circum- stances restrict the choice. I Men were appointed conservators of the }peace, because they had distinguished them- selves in war; and he who had assumed the powers of the law, as a regulator, was thought the better qualified to exercise them, as a legal ,-officer! Courage and capacity, as an Indian- fighter, gave one the prominence requisite to his appointment; and zeal for the preserva- tion of order, exhibited as a self-constituted judge and executioner, was a guaranty for the faithful performance of new and regular duties. Nor was the rule a bad one. A justice of the peace chosen upon this principle, possessed two qualities indispensable to an efficient offi- cer, in the times of which we write--he was I prompt in the discharge of his duties, and was not afraid of responsibility. To obviate the danger, however, which might arise from these, he had also a rigid sense of justice, which usu- ally guided his determinations according to the rights of parties in interest. This, the lawyers will say, was a very questionable trait for a jndicial officer; and perhaps it is better for society, that a judge should know the law, and ! THE JUSTICE OF THE PEACE. 251- administer it without reference to abstract jus- tice, than that- his own notions of right and wrong should be taken, however conscientious- ly, as the standard of judgment: for in that case, we shall, at least, have uniformity of ad- judication; whereas, nothing is more uncertain, than a man's convictions of right. But, in the times of which we are writing, society was not yet definitely shaped -its ele- ments were not bound together by the cohesive power of any legal cement--and no better rule was, therefore, to be expected, than the spontaneous suggestions of common sense. The minds of men -were, moreover, habituated to a certain course of thought and action -(such as naturally obtains in a new state of society, where the absence of organization remits them to their own exertions for safety) - and it was, therefore, impossible that any artificial system should be at once adopted. The people had been accustomed to such primitive associations, as they had entered into " for the common de- fence anrid general welfare" of their infant com- munities ; the rule of action had been swift, and sometimes. very informal punishment, for every transgression; and this rule, having very well answered its purpose, though at the expense of' occasional severity and injustice, they could page: 252-253[View Page 252-253] 252 WEsTEN OHABACTERS. not immediately understand the necessity for any other course of proceeding. One of the characteristics of the early jus- tice, then, was a supreme contempt for all mere i form. He called it "nonsense" and could never comprehend its utility. To him, all ceremony was affectation, and the refinements of legal proceeding were, in his estimation, anti-repub- lican innovations upon the original simplicity of mankind. Technicalities he considered mere- ly the, complicated inventions of lawyers, to exhibit their perverse ingenuity--traps to catch the well-meaning or unwary, or avenues of escape for the guilty. The rules of evidence he neither understood nor cared for; he desired "to hear all about" every cause brought before him; and the idea of excluding testimony, in obedience to any rule, he would never enter- tain. He acted npon the principle--though he probably never heard of the maxim - that "the law furnishes a remedy for every wrong ;" ! and, if he knew of none in positive enactment, / he would provide one, from the arsenal of his I own sense of right. Hie never permittedany- thing to obstruct the punishment of one whom he hadadjudged guilty; and, rather than allow a culpit to escape,. he would order his judg- ,i THE JUSTICE Oz THE PEACI. 858 ment to- be carried at once into effect, in, the presence, and under the direction -of the court. He had a strong prejudice against every man accused of crime; and sometimes almost ret versed the ancient presumption of the law, and /* held the prisoner guilty, until he proved him.-, self innocent. He had unbounded confidence in the honesty of his neighbors and friends, and was unwilling to believe, that they would ac- cuse a man of crime or misdemeanor, without very good cause. When it was proven that a crime had beesn comlmitted, he considered the guilt of the prisoner already half established: it was, in his judgment, what one, better ac- quainted with legal terms, might have called "aprimafacia case," devolving the onms pro- bandi (or burthen of proof) upon the accused. And this may have been one cause of the fre- quent resort to alibis-a mode of' defence which, as we have already remarked, is even yet in great disrepute. If a defence, of some sort, was not, then, very clearly and satisfac- torily made out, the justice had no hesitation in entering judgment, and ordering immediate punishment; for the right of appeal was not -generally recognized, and the justice took origi- nal and. final jurisdiction, where now hit duties page: 254-255[View Page 254-255] 2 54- WESTl'atN CHARACTERS., are merely those of preliminary examination and commitment. In civil controversies-where such causes were presented for adjudication, which, how- ever, was not -very often--the order of pro- ceeding was quite as summary. The justice heard the statements of the parties, and some- times, not always, would listen to witnesses, also; then, taking the general "rights, inter- ests, claims, and demands," of both sides into consideration -and viewing himself, not as a judicial officer, but as a sort of referee or arbi- trator- he would strike a balance between the disputants, and dismiss them to their homes, with a significant admonition to "keep the peace." He usually acted upon the principle --no very erronous one, either-that, when two respectable men resort to the law, as arbi- trater of their controversies, they are both about equally blameable; and his judgments were accordingly based upon the corollary, that neither deserved to have all he claimed. This was the practice when any decision was made at all; but, in most cases, the justice acted as a pacificator, and, by his authority and persua- sion, induced the, parties to agree upon a com- promite. For this purpose, he not unfrequent- F THE JUSTICE OF THE PEACE. 255 ly remitted' both fees and costs -those due to 'he constables, as well as his own. An instance of this pacific practice has been related to me as follows: Two neighbors had quarrelled about a small amount of debt, and, after sundry attempts to " settle," finally went to law. The justice took them aside, on the day of trial, and proposed, a basis of settlement, to which they agreed, on condition, that all costs should be remitted, and to this the magistrate at once pledged himself. But a difficulty arose: the constable, who had not been consulted in the arrangement, had had a long ride after the defendant, and having an unquestionable right to demand his fees, was1 unwilling to give them up. The justice endeavored to prevail with him by persuasion, but in vain. Finally, growing impatient of his obstinacy, he gave him a peremptory order to consent, and, on his refusal, fined him the exact'amount of his fees for con- tempt, entered up judgment on the basis of the compromise, and adjourned the court! The man who thus discourages litigation at the -expense of his own official emoluments, may 'be forgiven a few irregularities of proceeding, in consideration of the good he effects; for although under such a system it was seldom, that either party obtained his full ahd just page: 256-257[View Page 256-257] 251 wEsTrMN C-ARAOTERS. rights, both were always benefited by the spirit of peace infused into the community. It would, perhLap8, be well for the country now, were our legal officers actuated by the same motives; unfortunately,' however, such men belong only to -primitive times. But the love of peace was not accompanied, in this character, as it usually is, by merciful judgment, for, as he was very swift in deter- mining a prisoner's guilt, he was equally rigid in imposing the penalty. The enactments of the criminal code were generally so worded as to give some scope for the exercise of a com- passionate and enlightened discretion; but when the decision lay in the breast of our justice, if he adjudged any punishment at all, it was usually the severest provided for by the statute. Half-measures were not adapted to the temper of the times or the character of the people; indeed, they are suited to zno people, and are signal failures at all times, in all circumstances. Inflicting light punishments is like firing blank cartridges at a mob, they only irritate, without subduing; and as the latter course usually ends in unnecessary bloodshed, the former invariably increases the amount of crime. Certainty of punishment may be-unques- TIE JUSTIE' QF THE PEACE. 257 tionably is--a very important element in the administration of justice, but as nothing so strongly disinclines a man to entering the water as the sight- of another drowning, so nothing will so effectually deter him from the commis- sion of crime, as the knowledge that another has been severely punished for yielding to the same temptation. The justice, however, based the rigor of his judgments upon no such argu- ment of policy. His austerity was a part of his character, and had been rendered more severe by the circumstances in which he had lived--the audacity -of law-breakers, and the necessity for harsh penalties, in order to pro- tection. It will be observed that I say nothing of j juries, and speak of justices of the peace, as I officers having authority to decide causes alone And, it must be recollected, that in the days of which I am writing, resort was very seldom had to this cumbersome and uncertain mode of ad- judication. In civil causes, juries were seldom empanelled, because they were attended by very considerable expense and delay. The chief ob- ject, in going to law, moreover, was, in most cases to have a decision, of the matter in disi pate; nd j:urie- were; as prone to , hang' theial page: 258-259[View Page 258-259] 258 NVES1tIN CRARA CVIBS. as now. Suitors generally, therefore, would rather' submit to the arbitration of the justice, than take the risk of delay and uncertainty, with a jury. In criminal causes, the' case was jvery similar: the accused would as lief be Judged by one prejudiced man as by twelve; for the same rigorous spirit which actuated the justice, pervaded also the juries; and (besides the chance of timidity or favor in the justice) in the latter he must take the additional risks of personal enmity and relationship to the party injured. -Thus, juries were often discarded in criminal causes also, and we think their disuse was no great sacrifice. Such a system can derive its utility, in this country, only from an enlightened public sentiment: if that sentiment be capricious and oppressive, as it too often is, juries are quite as likely to partake its vices as legal officers: if the sentiment be just and healthy, no judicial officer dare be guilty of oppression. So that our fathers lost-nothing in seldom resorting to this " palladium of our liberties," and, without doubt, gained some- thing by avoiding delay, uncertainty, and ex- pense. The reader will also observe, that I say i nothing of higher courts. But the lines be- i tween the upper and lower tribunals were not I THE JUSTICE OF THE PEAOE. 259 so strictly drawn then as they now are, and-the limits of jurisdiction were, consequently, very indefinite. Most of the characteristics, more- ' over, here ascribed to the justice of the peace,I belonged, in almost an equal degree, to the judges of the circuit courts; and, though some G of the latter were men of respectable legal re- quirements, the- same off-hand mode of ad- ministering the law which distinguished the inferior magistrates, marked the proceedings of their courts also. Both occasionally assumed i powers which they did not legally possess; both were guided more by their own notions of jus- tice, than by the rules of law; and both were remarkable for their severity upon all trans- gressors.. Neither cared much for the rules of evidence, each was equal to any emergency or responsibility, and both had very exalted ideas of their own authority. But the functions of the justice were, in his estimation, especially important-his dignity was very considerable also, and his powers any- thing but circumscribed. A few well-authenti- cated anecdotes, however, will illustrate the character better than any elaborate portraiture. And, for fear those I am about to relate may seem exceptions, not fairly representing the class, I should state, in the outset, that I have page: 260-261[View Page 260-261] iseteted them: from a great number which I can recallt particularly because: they are not excep- tire, and give a very just impression of the character which I am endeavoring to portray. 'Squire A. was a plain, honest farmer,; who had distinguished. himself- a a pioneer and, ranger, and was,-remarkable as- a man- of un- doubted: courage, but sihgularly peaceable tem; per.; Hn the year eighteen hundred and twenty, he received from Governor Bond of Illinois, a commission, as justice, of the peace, and; though he was not very clearwhat his. duties, dignities, and-responsibilities .precisely were, like- a;patriot aud- a Roman,.he determined to discharge them fo-the letter. At the period. of his appointment, he was at- feud with one of his neighbors about that most fruitful- of all subjects of quarrel, a division-fence; and as sutch, diferences always are, the dispute, had been waxing warmer for several months. He received his dockety blanks, and-: "orm-Book," on, Saturday evening, and- though he had as yet no suits- to enter and no process to issue, was thus provided with all the weapons of juistice. On the following Monday morning, :he repaired, as usual,. to his fields,. about halfa-mile from home, and though fual of his we ditnit, wnt-quietly ty -w -rk T*H OTCITKS . OB1 PR OT5 -oER. 261 te :had not been there long, befoe his old and only enemy made his appearance, and opened upon him a volley of abuse in relation to the division-fence, bestowing upon his 'honor, among other expressive titles, the euphonious epithet of " jackass." A-- bore the attack until it came to this point-which, it would seem, was as far as a man's patience ought to extend--and, it is probable, that had he not been a legal functionary, a battle would have ensued " then and there." But it was beneath the dignity thus outraged, to avenge itself by a vulgar fisticuff, and A-- bethought him of a 'much better and more honorable course.' He threw his coat across his arm, and marched home. There he took down his new docket, and upon the first page, recorded the case of the "People of the State of Iliznois vs. John Braxton" (his enemy). He then entered up the following judgment: "The defendant in this case this day, fined ten dollars and costs, for CONTEMPT OF COURT,' he having called us .a jack-' ass!" On the opposite page is an entry of satisfaction, by which it appears that he forth- with issued an execution upon the judgment, and collected the money I This pretext of "contempt" was much :in vogue, as a means of reaching offences ,not ex- page: 262-263[View Page 262-263] 262 WESTERN CHARACTERS. pressly provided for by statute; but the justice was never at a loss for expedients, even in cases entirely without precedent, as the following anecdote will illustrate:-- A certain justice, in the same state of Illinois, was one day trying, for an aggravated assault, a man who was too much intoxicated fully to realize the import of the proceedings or the dignity of the court. He was continually in- terrupting witnesses, contradicting their testi- mony, and swearing at the justice. It soon became evident that he must be silenced or the trial'adjourned. The justice's patience atlength gave way. He ordered the constable to take the obstreperous culprit to a creek, which ran near the office, "and duck him until he was sober enough to be quiet and respect the court!" This operation the constable alone could not perform, but in due time he brought the de- fendant back dripping from the creek and thoroughly sobered, reporting, at the same time, that he had availed himself of the assistance of two men, ]Messrs. B and L----, in the execution of his honor's commands. The trial then went quietly on, the. defendant was fined for a- breach of the peace, and ordered to pay the costs: one item of which was two dollars THE JUSTICE OF THE PEACE. 263 to Messrs. B-- and L--- " for assisting the constable in ducking the prisoner!"But, as the justice could find no form nor precedent for hydropathic services, he entered the charge as ( witness fees," and required immediate pay- ment 1 The shivering culprit, glad to escape on any terms, paid the bill and vanished! Whatever might have been the prevailing opinion, as to the legality of such a proceeding, the ridicule attaching to it would effectually have prevented any remedy --most men being willing to forgive a little irregularity, for the sake of substantial justice and " a good joke." But the summary course, adopted by. these magistrates, sometimes worked even greater injustice -as might have been expected; and of this, the following is an example:- About the year eighteen hundred and twen- ty-six, there lived, in a certain part of the west, a man named Smedley, who, so far as the col- lection of debts was concerned, was entirely "Iaw-proof."' He seemed to have a constitu- tional indisposition to paying anything. he owed: and, though there were 'sundry execu- tions in the hands of officers against him- and though he even seemed thrifty enough in his pecuniary affairs--no property could ever page: 264-265[View Page 264-265] 264 - ES3 ORAtUOTBBS. be found, upon which they could be levied. There :was, at the -same time, a constable in the neighborhood, a man named White, who was celebrated, in those days of difficult collections, for the-shrewdness and success of his official exploits; an&dthe justice upon whom he usually attended, was equally remarkable, for the high hand with which he carried his authority.' But, though two executions were placed in the hands of the former, upon judgments on the docket of the latter, months passed away, with- out anything being realized from the impervi- ous defendant, Smedley. Whenever the constable found him in pos- session of property, and made a levy, it was proven to belong to some one else; and the only result of his indefatigable efforts, was the additions of heavy costs to the already hopeless demand. At length, however, White learned that Smed- ley had traded horses with a man named Wyatt, and he straightway posted off to consult the magistrate. ; Between them, the plan of opera- tions was agreed upon. I White levied first upon the horse then in the possession of Smed- ley, taking him under orne of the two writs: he then levied the other execution upon the horse which Smedley had traded to Wyatt. The lat- THE JUSTICE OF Tit' PEAcE. 266 ter, apprehending the loss of his property, claimed the first horse--that which he had traded to Smedley. But, upon the " trial of the right of property," the justice decided that the horse was found in the possession of Smedley, and was, therefore, subject to levy and sale. He was accordingly sold, and the first judg- ment was satisfied. Wyatt then claimed the second horse --that which he had received from Smedley. But, upon a similar " trial"- after severely reprimanding Wyatt for claiming both horses, when, on his own showing, he never owned but one--the justice decided that the property in dispute had been in the possession of Smedley at the rendition of the judgment, and was therefore, like the other, subject to a lien, and equally liable to levy and sale! And accordingly, this horse, also, was sold, to satisfy the second execution, and Wyatt was dismissed by the justice, with no gentle admonition, " to be careful in future with whom he swapped horses!"A piece of advice which he probably took, and for which he ought to have been duly grateful! Fallen humanity, however, is very perverse; and it is at least supposable, that, having lost his horse, he con- sidered himself hardly used-an opinion in which my legal readers will probably concur. 12 page: 266-267[View Page 266-267] 26Q6 WESTERN CHARACTERS. Before leaving this part of my subject, T will relate another anecdote, which, though it refers more particularly to constables, serves to illus- trute the characteristics of the early officers of the law-justices, as well as others:- The constable who figured so advantageously in- the anecdote last related, had an execution against a man-named Corson, who was almost as nearly "law proof" as Smedley. He had been a long time endeavoring to realize some- thing, but without success. At length, he was informed, that Corson had L sued another man, upon an account, before a justice in a distant part of the same county. This, the delinquent officer at once saw, gave him a chance to secure something; and, on the day of trial, away he posted to the justice's office. Here, he quietly seated himself, and watched the course of the proceeding. The trial went on, and, in due time, the justice decided the cause in favor of Corson. At this juncture, White arose, and, while the justice was entering up judgment, approached the table. When the docket was about tobe laid aside, he interposed:- 'Stop!" said he, placing his hand upon the docket, "I levels on ti8s judgment!" And, giving no attention to remonstrances, he de- manded and obtained the execution. On this THE JUSTImE OF THE PEACl . 267 he collected the money, and at once applied it to that, which he had been so long carrying thus settling two controversies, by diligence and force of will. He was certainly a valuable officer I Thus irregular and informal were many of the proceedings of the primitive legal function- aries; but a liberal view of their- characters must bring us to the conclusion, that their in- fluence upon the progress of civilization of the country, was, on the whole, decidedly benefi- cial. ^ . ' - y page: 268-269[View Page 268-269] VII. THE PEDDLER. "This is a traveller, sir; knows men and Manners."- BEAUMONT AND FLEsTUH L. -Previous to the organization of civil govern- ment, and " the form and pressure" given to the times by this and its attendant circumstances, the primitive tastes -and habits of the western people, excluded many of those artificial wants which are gratified by commerce, and afforded no room for traders, excepting those who sold the absolute necessaries of life. In those days, housekeeping was a very sim- ple matter. Neither steam-engines nor patent cook-stoves were yet known, as necessary ad- juncts to a kitchen ; the housewife would have "turned up her nose" in contempt of a bake- oven: would have thrown a "Yankee reflector" over the fence, and branded the innovator with the old-fashioned gridiron. Tin was then sup- posed to be made only for cups and coffee-pots: t * . ' THE PEDDLBwR, 29 pierpans had not yet even entered " the land of dreams ;" and the tea-kettle, which then "sang songs of family glee," was a quaint, squat figure, resembling nothing so much as an over- fed duck, and poured forth its music from a crooked, quizzical spout, with a notch in its iron nozzle. If its shut-iron lid was ornamented with a brass button, for a handle, it was thought to be manufactured in superior style? Iron spoons were good enough for the daintiest mouth; and a full set of pewter was a house- hold treasure. China dishes and silver plate had been heard of, but belonged to the same class of mnarvellous things, with Aladdin's lamp and Fortunatus's purse. Cooking was not yet reduced to a science, and eating was like sleep. -a necessity, not a mere amusement. The. only luxuries known, were coffee and sugar;, and these, with domestics and other cotton fabrics, were the chief articles for which the ,products of the earth were bartered. French cloths and Parisian fashions were still less known than silver spoons and " rotary stoves." The men wore homemade jeans, cut after the mode of the forest: its dye a favorite "Tennessean" brownish-yellow; and the women were not ashamed to be seen in linsey-wolsey, woven in the same domestic loom. Knitting page: 270-271[View Page 270-271] 2'0 WES. ftk CARAM^ICTS. was then not only an accomplishment, but a useful art; and the size which a "yarn" stock- ing gave to a pretty ankle, was not suffered to overbalance the consideration of its comfort. The verge of nakedness was not then the region of modesty: 'the neck and its adjacent parts were covered in preference to the hands; and, in their barbarous ignorance, the women thought it more shame to appear in public half-dressed, than to wear a comfortable shoe. They were certainly a very primitive people - unrefined, unfashionable, "coarse"-and many of their sons and daughters are even now ashamed to think what " savages" their parents were! In their mode of life, they sought com- fort, not appearances ;" and many things which their more sophisticated descendants deem necessaries, they contemned as luxuries. But, in the course of time, these things began to change, for simplicity is always :' primitive," and the progress of refinement is only the mul- tiplication of wants. As the country'was re- duced to cultivation, and peace settled upon its borders, new classes of emigrants began to take possession of the soil; and, for the immediate purposes of rapid advancement, and especially of social improvement, they were better classes ,i THE PEDDLEB. r 2n than their predecessors: for, as the original pioneers had always lived a little beyond the influences of regular civilization, these had re- mained within its limits until the pressure of legal organization began to grow irksome to their partially untamed spirits. There was, in- deed, an unbroken gradation of character, from the nearly savage hunter, who visited the country only because it was uninhabited, except by wild beasts, to the genuine citizen, who brought with him order, and industry, and legal supremacy. The emigrants, of whom we are now writing, constituted the third step in this progression; and they imported along with them, or drew after them, the peculiarities belonging to their own degree of advancement. Their notions of comfort and modes of living, though still quite crude, indicated an appreciable stage of refine- ment. They were better supplied, for example, with cooking utensils-their household furni- ture was not so primitive-and in wearing ap- parel, they manifested some regard to elegance as well as comfort. Social intercourse dissemi- nated these ideas among those to whom they were novel; where, previously, the highest motive to improvement had been a desire for convenience, the -idea of gentility began, to i page: 272-273[View Page 272-273] 272 WESTERN CHARACTERS. claim an influence; and some -of the more moderate embellishments of life assumed the place of the mere necessaries. The transition was not rapid nor violent, like all permanent changes, it was the work of years,- marked by comparatively slow grada- tions. First, tin-ware, of various descriptions, became necessary to the operations of the kitchen; and that which had been confined to one or two articles, was now multiplied into many forms. - A housewife could no more bake a pie'without a " scalloped" pie-pan, than with- out a fire : a tin-bucket was much more easily 'handled than one of cedar or oak; and a pepper- box, of the same material, was as indispensable as a salt-cellar. A little tea was occasionally added to the ancient regimen of coffee, and -thus a tin-canister became necessary for the preservation of the precious drug. With tea came queensware: and half-a-dozen cups and saucers, usually of a dingy white, with a raised blue edge, were needful for the pranking of the little cupboard. But it was not only in the victualing department that the progress of refinement could be traced; for the thrifty housewife, who thought it proper to adorn her table, and equip her kitchen with THE . PEDDLEM. 273. all the late improvements, could not, of course, entirely overlook " the fashions :" the decoration of her person has been, in all ages, the just and honest pride of woman. Linsey-wolsey began to give place to calicoes and many-colored prints; calf-skin shoes were antiquated by the use of kid; and ribands fluttered gracefully upon new-fashioned bonnets. Progress of this kind never takes a step backward: once pos- sessed of an improvement in personal comfort, convenience, or adornment, man-or woman -seldom gives it up. Thus, these things, once used, thenceforth became wants, whose gratifi- cation was not to be foregone: and it is one of the principles governing commerce, that the demand draws to it the supply. There were few "country stores,"- in those days, and the settlements were so scattered as to make it sometimes very inconvenient to visit them. From ten to twenty miles was a moder- ate distance to the depot of supplies; and a whole day was usually consumed in going and returning. The visits were, therefore, not very frequent- the purchases for many weeks-. perhaps months-being made on each occa- sion. This was a very inconvenient mode of "shopping,'" even for the energetic women of that day; and, since the: population would not 12* page: 274-275[View Page 274-275] 274 WESTERN 'OHARACTERS. justify more numerous "stores,i" it was desira- ble that some new system should be introduced, capable of supplying the demand at the cost of less trouble, and fewer miles of travel. To answer this necessity there/was but one way- the " storekeeper" must carry his wares to the doors of his customers. And thus arose the occupation of the Peddler, or, as he called himself, the " travelling merchant." The population -of the country was then al-. most exclusively agricultural-the mechanic arts belong to a more advanced period. The consequence was, that the first articles carried about from house to house, were such as are manufactured by artisans-and the chief of these was tin-ware. . The tinkers of the rural districts in older countries, were, however, not knownv in this- . they were not adapted to the genius of the peo- ple. The men who sold the ware were, scarcely ever, the same who made it; and, though the manual dexterity of most of these ready men, might enable them to mend a broken pan, or a leaky coffeepot, their skill was seldom put in: requisition. Besides, since the mending of an, old article might .interfere with the sale of a new one, inability to perform the office was more frequently assumed than felt. THE PEDDLER. 275 In the course of time -as the people of the country began to acquire new ideas, and dis- cover new wants -other articles were added to the peddler's stock. Calicoes were often car- ried in the same box with tin pans--cotton checks and ginghams were stowed away be- neath tin-cups and iron-spoons - shining coffee- pots were crammed with spools of thread, papers of pins, cards of horn-buttons, and cakes of shaving-soap--and bolts of gaudy riband could be drawn from pepper-boxes and sausage- stuffers. Table-cloths, of cotton or brown linen, were displayed before admiring eyes, which had turned away from all the brightness of new tin plates; and knives and forks, all " war- ranted pure steel," appealed to tastes, which nothing else could excite. ' New razors touched the- men "in tender places,?' while shining scissors clipped the purses of the women. Silk handkerchiefs and " fancy" neckclotlhs- things till then unknown--could occupy the former, while the latter covetously turned over and ex- amined bright ribands and fresh cotton hose. The peddler was a master of the art of pleasing all tastes: even the children were not forgot- ten; for there were whips and jew's-harps for 1 the boys, and nice check aprons for the girls. (The taste for " playing, mother" was as much I . o page: 276-277[View Page 276-277] 276 W ESTEsN CHARACTERS. an instinct, with the female children of that -day, as it is in times more modern; but life was yet too earnest to display it in the dressing and nursing of waxen babies.) To suit the people from whom the peddler's income was de- rived, he must consult at least the appearance of utility, in every article he offered; for, though no man could do more, to coax the money out of one's pocket, without leaving an equivalent, even he could not succeed in such an enterprise, against the matter-of-fact pioneer. The ' travelling merchants" of this country were generally what their customers called "Yankees"-that is, New-Englanders, or de- scendants of the puritans, whether born east of the Hudson or not. And, certainly, no class of men were ever better fitted for an occupa- tion, than were those for "peddling." The majority of them were young men, too; for the "Yankee" who lives beyond middle age, with- out providing snug quarters for the decline of life, is usually not even fit for a peddler. But, though often not advanced in years, they often exhibited qualities, which one would have ex- pected to find only in men of age and experi- ence. They could "calculate," with the most absolute certainty, what precise stage of ad- THE PEDDLER. 27T vancement and cultivation, was necessary to the introduction of every article of merchandise their stock comprised. Up to a certain limit, they offered, for example, linen table-cloths: beyond that, cotton was better and more sale- able; in certain settlements, they could sell numbers of the finer articles, which, in others, hung on their hands like lead; and they seemed to know, the moment they breathed the air of a neighborhood, what precise character of goods was most likely to pay." i Thus--by way of illustration--it might seem, to one not experienced in reading the signs of progress, a matter of nice speculation and subtle inquiry, to determine what exact degree of cultivation was necessary, to make profitable the trade in clocks. But I believe there is no instance of an unsuccessful clock- peddler on Record; and, though this fact may be accounted for, superficially, by asserting that time is alike important to all men, and a measure of its course, therefore, always a want, a little reflection will convince us, that this ex- planation is more plausible than sound. It is, perhaps, beyond the capacity, of any man, to judge unerringly, by observation, of the usual signs of progress, the exact point at page: 278-279[View Page 278-279] 't8 WESTERN CIARACTERS. which a community, or a man, has arrived in the scale of cultivation; and it may seem es- pecially difficflt,Ct determine commercially, :what precise articles, of use or ornament, are adapted to the state indicated by those signs. But that there are such indications, which, if properly attended. to, will be unfailing guides, is not to be denied. Thus, the quick observa- tion of a- clock-peddler would detect among a community of primitive habits, the growing tendency to regularity of life; for, as refine- ment advances, the common affairs of every- day existence, feeling the influence first, assume a degree of order and arrangement; and from the display of this improvement, the trader might draw inferences favorable to his traffic. Eating, for example, as, he would perceive, is done at certain hours of the day--sleep is taken between fixed periods of -the night and morning -especially, public worship - which is one of the best and surest signs of social ad- vancement - must be held at a time generally understood. The peddler might conclude, also, when he saw a glazed window in a house, that the owner was already possessed of a clock - which, per- haps, needed repairing -or, at least, was in great need of one, if he had not yet made the "I . T* E PEDDLE R. 279 purchase. One of these shrewd " calculators" once told me, that, when he saw a man with four panes of glass in his house, and no clock, he either sold him one straightway, or "set him down crazy, or a screw." "Have you no other 'signs of prnoise"? I asked. "O yes," he replied, " many! For instance: When I am riding past a house -(I always ride slowly)-I take a general and particular survey of the premises--or, as the military men say, I make a reconnaissance; and it must be a very bare place, indeed, if I can not see some 'sign,' by which to determine, whether the owner needs a clock. If I see the man, himself, I look at his extremities; and by the appearance of hat and boot, I make up my opinion as to whether he knows the value of time: if he wears anything but a cap, I can pretty fairly calculate upon selling him a clock; and if, to the hat, he has added boots, I halt at once, and, without ceremony, carry a good- one in. "When I see the wife, instead of the hus- band, I have no difficulty in making up my imind - though the signs about the women are so numerous and minute, that it would be hard to explain them. If one wears a check-apron page: 280-281[View Page 280-281] 280 WESTERN CHARAOTERS. and sports a calico dress, I know that a ' travy elling merchant' has been in the neighbor- hood; and if he has succeeded in making a rea- sonable number of sales, I am certain that he has given her such a taste for buying, that I can sell-her anything at all: for purchasing cheap goods, to a woman, is like sipping good liquor, to a man-she soon acquires the appe- tite, and thenceforward it is insatiable. "I have some customers who have a passion for clocks. There is a man on this road, who has one for every room in his house; and I have another with me now - with a portrait of General Jackson in the front -which I expect to add to his stock. There is a farmer not far from here, with whom I have 'traded' clocks every year since I first entered the neighbor- hood - always receiving about half the value of the article I sell, in money, 'to boot.' There Wae clock-fanciers, as well as fanciers of dogs and birds; and I ave known cases, in which a man would have two or three time- pieces in his house, and not a pair of shoes in the family! But such customers are rare - as they ought to be; and the larger part of our trade is carried on, with people who begin to feel the necessity of regularity-to whom the sun has ceased to be a sufficient guide-and THE PED DLER. 281 who have acquired some notions of elegance ,and comfort. And we seldom encounter the east trouble in determining, by the general ap- opearance of the place, whether the occupant has arrived at that stage of refinement." We perceive that the principal study of the peddler is human nature; and though he clas- sifies the principles of his experience, more especially with reference to the profits of his trade, his rapid observation of minor traits and indications, is a talent which might be useful in many pursuits, besides clock-peddling. And, accordingly, we discover that, even after he has abandoned the occupation, and ceased to be a bird of passage, he never fails to turn his learning to a good account. He was distinguished by energy as well as shrewdness, and an enterprising spirit was the first element of his prosperity.- There was no corner--no secluded settlement- no out-of-the way place- where he was not seen. Bad roads never deterred him: he could drive his horses and wagon where a four-wheeled vehicle never went before. He understood bearings and distances -as well as a topographical engineer, and would go, whistling contentedly, across a prairie or page: 282-283[View Page 282-283] 282 WESTERN R EE through a forest, where he had not even a "trail" to guide him. He could find fords and crossings where none were previously known to exist; and his pair of lean horses; by the skil- ful management of their driver, would carry him and his wares across sloughs and swamps, where a steam-engine would have been clogged by the weight of a baby-wagon. If he broke his harness or his vehicle in the wilderness, he could repair it without assistance, for his me- chanical accomplishments extended from the shoeing of a horse to the repair of a watch, and embraced everything between. He was never taken by surprise-accidents never came un- expected, and strange events never disconcerted him. He would whistle "Yankee Doodle" while his horses were floundering in a quag- mire, and sing "Hail Columbia" while plunging into an unknown river! He never met' a stranger, for he was in- timately acquainted with a mnan as soon as he saw him. Introductions were useless ceremo- nies to him, for he cared nothing about names. He call a woman " ma'am" and a man " mister," and if 'he could sell either of them a few goods, he never troubled himself or them with impertinent inquiries. Sometimes he had a habit of learning each man's name from his THE PEDDLE. $83 next neighbor, and possessing an excellent memory, he never lost the information thus acquired. When he had passed through a settlement once, he had a complete knowledge of all its circumstances, history, and inhabitants; and, the next year, if he met a child in the road, he could tell you whom it most resembled, and to what family it belonged. H6 recollected all who were sick on his last visit- what peculiar difficulties each was laboring under -and was always glad to hear of their convalescence. He gathered medicinal herbs along the road, and generously presented them to the housewives where he halted, and he understood perfectly the special properties of each.. -He possessed a great store of good advice, suited to every occasion, and distributed it with the disinterested benevolence of a philanthropist. He knew precisely what articles of merchandise were adapted to the taste of each customer; and the comprehensive " rule of three" would not have enabled him to calculate more nicely the exact amount of " talk" necessary to convince them of the same. His address was extremely insinuating, for he always endeavored to say the most agreeable things, and no man could udgQ more accurately page: 284-285[View Page 284-285] S84 -W sIN C8HARACTERS. t vhat would best please the person addressed. e' might be vain enough, but his egotism was never obtruded upon others. He might secretly felicitate himself upon a successful trade, but he never boasted of it. He seemed to be far more interested in the affairs of others than in his own. He had sympathy for the afflictions of his customers, counsel for their difficulties, triumph in their success. Before the introduction of mailsj he was the universal news-carrier, and could tell all about the movements of the whole world. He could gossip over his wares with his female customers, till he beguiled them into endless purchases, for he had heard of every death, marriage, and birth- within fifty miles. He recollected the precise piece of calico from which Mrs. Jones bought her last new dress, and the identical bolt of riband from which Mrs. Smith trimmed her "Sunday bonnet." He knew whose children: went to "meeting" in "store-shoes," whose daughter was- beginning to wear long dresses, and whose wife wore cotton hose. He could, ring the changes on the "latest fashions' as glibly/Tas the skilfulest modiste. He was a connoissezur in colors, and learned in their, effects upon complexion. He could laugh the: THE PEDDLER. 285 husband into half-a-dozen shirts, flatter the wife into calico and gingham, and praige the children till both parents joined in dressing them anew from top to toe. 'He always sold his goods "at a ruinous sacrifice," but he seemed to have a depot of infinite extent and capacity, from which he annually drew new supplies. He invariably left a neighborhood the loser by his visit, and the close of each season find him inconsolable for his " losses." But the next year he was sure to come back, risen, like the Phoenix, from his own ashes, and ready to be ruined again--in the same way. He could never resist the plead- ing look of a pretty woman, and if she "jewed" him twenty per cent. (though his profits were only two hundred), the tenderness of his heart compelled him to yield. What wonder is it, then, if he was a prime favorite with all the women, or that his advent, to the children, made -a day of jubilee . But the peddler, like every other human "institution," only had "-his day.'.' The time ;oon came when he was forced to give way before the march of niewfangledness. The country grew densely populated, neighborhoods becanme thicker, and the smoke of one man's page: 286-287[View Page 286-287] 286 - WESTREN OAERATERS. chimney could be seen from another's front- door. People's wants began to be permanent --they were no longer content with transient or periodical-supplies--they demanded some- thing more constant and regular. From this demand arose the little neighborhood " stores," established for each settlement at a central- and convenient point-usually at " cross-roads," or next door to the blacksmith's shop -and these it was which superseded the peddler's trade. We could wish to pause here, and, after de- scribing the little depot, "take an account of stock:" for no store, not even a sutler's, ever presented a more amusing or characteristic assortment. But, since these modest establish- ments were generally the nuclei, around which western towns were built, we must reserve our fire until we reach that subject. But the peddler had not acquired his experi- ence of life for nothing, he was not to be out- done, even by the more aristocratic stationary shop-keeper. When he found his trade de- clining, he cast about him for a good neighbor- hood, still uninvaded by the Lombards, and his extensive knowledge of the country soon enabled him to find one. Here he erected his own THE PEDDLER. 287 cabin, and boldly entered the lists against his new competitors. If he could find no eligible point for such an establishment, or if he augured unfavorably of his success in the new walk, he was not cast down. If he could not "keep store," he could at least "keep. tavern," an occupation for which his knowledge of the world and cosmopolitan habits, admirably fitted him. - In this capacity, we shall have occasion to refer to him again; and have now only to record, that in the progress of time, he grew rich, if not fat, and eventually died, " universally regretted." "-, "* r page: 288 (Illustration) [View Page 288 (Illustration) ] THE SCHOOLMASTER. ihero,in -is- qe ansioni ekilled' to rul,-' er- taught his little school . - : r "!:newt h'i wel; :And'every truant knew s Yet he was kind; or, if severe in aught, The love he-bore to learning was in fault,. The village'ali declared how much he knew: 'Twas certain he could write, and cipher too."--' GOLDSMITH'S "DESERTED VTr-V A!CW.! IN the progress of society, the pliysical Wants, are felt' before the intellectual. Men .appre--: ciate 'tihe necessity for covering their backs and lining their stomachs before storing their minds, and they naturally provide a shelter from :the Btorms of heaven, before they seek (witi,;.otier . learning) a knowledge of the heavenly ruian : Thus the rudest social system comprises some- thing of the mechanic arts -- government begins to advance toward the dignity of a science- commerce follows the establishment of legal page: -289[View Page -289] THE SCHOOLMASTER. 289 supremacy--and the education of the citizen comes directly after the recognition of his social and political rights. So, the justice of the peace (among other legal functionaries) indi- cates subjection, more or less complete, to the regulations of law; the peddler represents the beginning of commercial interests; and the schoolmaster succeeds him, in the natural order of things. It may be possible to preserve a high respect for a calling, while we despise the men who exercise it: though I believe this is not one of the rules which " work both ways," and the con- verse is, therefore, not equally true. A man's occupation affects him' more nearly than he does his occupation. A thousand contemptible men will not bring a respectable profession into so much-disrepute, as a contemptible profession will a thousand respectable men. All the- mili- tary talents, for example, of the commander-in- chief of our armies, would not preserve him from contempt, should he set up a- barber-shop, or drive a nmilk-cart: but the barber, or the milkman, might make a thousand blunders at the head of an army, should extravagant democ- racy elevate him to that position, and yet the rank of a general would be as desirable, because as honorable, as ever. 13 page: 290-291[View Page 290-291] 290 WESTERN CH ARACTERS. It is certainly true, however, that the most exalted station may be degraded by filling it with a low or despicable' incumbent, for the mental effort necessary-to the abstraction of the employment from him who pursues it, is one which most men do not take the trouble to make: an effort, indeed, which the majority of men are incapable of making. A vicious priest degrades the priestly vocation-a hypocrite brings reproach upon the religious profession- a dishonest lawyer sinks the legal character -and even the bravest men care but little for promotion in an army, when cowardice and in- competency are rewarded with rank and power. But manifest incapacity, culpable neglect of duty, or even a positively vicious character, will not reduce a calling to contempt, or bring it into disrepute so soon, as any quality which excites ridicule. An awkward figure, a badly-shaped garment, or an ungainly manner, will sometimes out- weigh the acquirements of the finest scholar; and the cause of religion has suffered more, from the absence of the softer graces, in its clerical representations, than from all the logic of its adversaries. A laugh is more effectual to subvert an institution, than an argument-- for it is easier to make- men ashamed, than to THE SCHOOLM ATR. 291 convince them. Truth and reason are formida- able weapons, but ridicule is stronger than either- or both,. Tlus: All thinking men will eagerly admit, that the profession of the schoolmaster is, not only respectable, but honorable, alike to the in- dividual, and to the community in which he pursues it: yet, rather than teach a school for a livelihood, the large majority of the same men would " split rails" or cut cord-wood! And this is not because teaching is laborious - though it is laborious, and thankless, too, beyond all other occupations; but because a number and variety of causes, into which, we need not in- quire, have combined to throw ridicule upon him, who is derisively called the pedagogue- for most men would rather be shot at, than laughled at. Cause and effect are always inter- reactive: and the refusal of the most compe- tent men, to "take up the birch"-which is the effect of this derision-has filled our school-rooms with men, who are, not unfairly, its victims.. Thus the profession - (for such is its inherent dignity)- itself, has fallen into dis- credit-even though the judgnment of men universally is, that it is not only useful, but in- g dispensable. Nor is that judgment incorrect. For, though page: 292-293[View Page 292-293] f298 W'Em wXilas e"ty6rzMAnfts. home-education may sometimes succeed, it- is usually too fragmentary to be beneficial--pri- vate tutors are too often the slaves of their pu- pils, and can not enforce "attention," the first condition of advancement, where the le have not the paraphernalia of command--and, as for self-education, logically there can be no such thing: " one might as well attempt to lift him- self over the fence, by the straps of his boots," as to educate himself "without a master." The schoolmaster, then, is a useful member of society--not to be spared at any stage of its progress. But he is particularly necessary to communities which are in the transition state; for, upon the enlightenment of the rising gener- ation depend the success and preservation of growing institutions. Nor does his usefulness consist altogether - or even in a great measure - -in the number of facts, sciences, or theories, with which he may store the minds of his pu- pils. These are not the objects of education, any more than a knowledge of the compart- ments in a printer's "letter-case," is the ulti- mate result of the art of printing. The types are so- arranged, in order to enable the com- positors more conveniently to attain the ends, for which that arrangement is only a prepara- * THE: OHOOLMAE ' 29S3 tion: facts and sciences are taught for the im- provement of the faculties, in order that they may work with more ease, force, and certainty, upon other and really important things; for education is only the marshalling of powers, preliminary to the great " battle of life." The mind of an uneducated man, however strong in itself, is like an army of undisciplined men -a crowd of chaotic, shapeless, and often misdirected elements. To bring these into proper subjection-- to enable him to bind them, with anything like their native force, to a given purpose--a prescribed "trainir j" is necessary; and it is this which education sup- plies. If you can give a mind the habit of at- tention, all the power it has will be made available: and it is through this faculty, that even dull minds are .so frequently able to mount the car of triumph, and ride swiftly past so many, who are immeasurably their superiors. The first element of the discipline which develops this power, is submission to control; and without such subordination, a school can not exist. Thus, the first lesson that children learn from the schoolmaster, is the most valuable acquisition they can make. But it was no easy'task to teach this princi- page: 294-295[View Page 294-295] 294 WtrflJz CHARACTERS. ple to the sturdy children of the early Western "settler ;" in this, as in all other things, the difficulty of the labor was 'ip exact proportion to its necessity. The peculiarities of the peo- ple, and the state of the country, were not favorable to the establishment of the limited monarchy, requisite to successful teaching. In the first place, the parents very generally un- dervalued, what they called " mere book-learn- ing." For themselves, they had found more use for a rifle than a pen; and they naturally thought it a much more valuable accomplish- ment, to be able to scalp a squirrel with a bullet, at a hundred paces, than to read the natural history of the animal in the "picture- book." They were enthusiastic, also, upon the subject of independence; and, though they could control their children sternly enough at home, they were apt to look, with -a jealous eye, upon any attempt to establish dominion else- where. The children partook largely of the free, wild spirit of their fathers. They were very prompt to resist anything like encroach- ment upon their privileges or rights, and were, of course, pretty certain to consider even talu- tary control an attempt to assert a despotismn. I believe history contains no record, whatever the annals of fiction may display, of a boy, THE SCHOOLMASTER, 295 with much spirit, submitting without a murmur to the authority of the schoolmaster: if such a prodigy of enlightened humility ever existed, he certainly did not live in the west. But a more important difficulty than either of these, was the almost entire want of money in, the country; and without this there was but little encouragement for the effort to overcome other obstacles. Money may be only a representative of value, but its absence operates marvellously like the want of the value itself, and the primi- tive people of those days, and especially that class to which the schoolmaster belonged, had a habit, however illogical, of considering it a desirable commodity, per se. All these impediments, however, could, in the course of time, be conquered: the country was improving in social tone; parents must eventu- ally take some pride even in the accomplish- ments they despised; and patience and gentle- ness, intermingled, now and then, with a little wholesome severity, will ultimately subdue the most stubborn spirit. As for the pecuniary difficulty, it was, as the political economists will tell us, only the absence of a medium at the worst: and, in its stead, the master could receive boarding, clothing, and the agricultural products of the country. So many barrels of page: 296-297[View Page 296-297] 296. WESTEK CACTERS. corn, or bushels of wheat, " per quarter,?' might not be so conveniently handled, but were quite as easy to be counted, as an equal number of dollars; and this primitive mode of payments even yet practised in many rural districts, pert haps, in both the east and west. To coun balance its inconvenience of bulk, this "ccur- rency" possessed a double advantage over, the more refined "a medium of exchange" now in use: it was not liable to counterfeits, and the bank from which it issued was certain not to "break." So the schoolmaster was not to be deterred from pursuing his honorable calling, even by the difficulties incident to half-organized commu- nities. Indeed, teaching was the resort, at least temporary, of four fifths of the educated, and nearly an equal number of the uneducated young men, who came to the west: for certaiAly that proportion of both classes arrived in the country, without money to support, friends to encourage, or pride to deter them. They were almost all. what western p ople call "Yankees"--born and bred east of the Hudson: descendants of the sturdy puritans-- and distinguished by the peculiarities of, that strongly-marked people, in personal appear- THE SCHOOLMASTER. 297 ance, language, manners, and style and tone of thought. Like the peddlers, they were gene- rally on the sunny side of thirty, full of the hopeful energy which belongs to that period of life, and only submitting to the labors and privations of the present, because through these they looked to the future for better and brighter things. The causes which led to their emigration, were as many and as various as the adventurers whom they moved. They were, most of them, mere boys: young Whittingtons, whom the bells did not ring back, to become lord-mayors; who, indeed, had not even the limited posses- sions of that celebrated worthy; and, thus des- titute, they wandered off, many hundreds of miles, " to see the world and 'make their for- tunes," at an age when the youth of the present day are just beginning to think of college. They broughlt neither money, letters of intro- duction, nor bills of exchange: they expected to find neither acquaintance nor relatives. But they knew--for it was one of the wise maxims of their unromantic fathers -that industry and honesty must soon gather friends, and that all other desirable things would speedily follow. They had great and just confidence in their own abilities to "get along;;" and if they did not 13' page: 298-299[View Page 298-299] 298 WS'TEBN CHARACTERS. actually think that the whole world belonged to them, they were well-assured, that in an in- credibly short space of time, they would be able to possess a respectable portion'of it. A genuine specimen of, the class to which most of the early schoolmasters belonged, never felt any misgivings about his own success, and- never hesitated to assume any position in life. Neither pride nor modesty was ever suffered to interfete with his action. He would take charge of a numerous school, when he could do little more than write his own name, just as he would have undertaken to run a steamboat, or com- mand an army, when he had never studied engineering or heard of strategy. Nor would he have failed in either capacity: a week's ap- -plication would make him master of a steam- engine, or a proficient (after the resent manner of proficiency) in tactics; and as forhis school, he could himself learn at night what he was to teach others on the following day! Nor was this mere "conceit"- though, in some other respects, that word, in its limited sense, was not inapplicable --neither was it altogether ignorant presumption; for one of these men was seldom known to fail in anything he under- took: or, if he did fail, he was never found to / THE SCHOOLMASTER. 299 be cast down by defeat, and the resiliency of his nature justified his confidence. The pursuit of a certain avocation, for a long period, is apt to warp one's nature to its in- equalities; and as the character gradually assumes the peculiar shape, the, personal ap- pearance changes in a corresponding direction and -degree. Thus, the blacksmith becomes brawny, square, and sturdy, and the character- istic swing of his arm gives tone to his whole bearing: the silversmith acquires a peering, eunning look, as if he were always examining delicate machinery: the physician becomes solemn, stately, pompous, and mysterious, and speaks like "Sir Oracle," as if he were eternally administering a bread-pill, or enjoining a regi- men of drugs and starvation: the lawyer assumes a keen, alert, suspicious manner, as if he were constantly in pursuit of a latent per-- jury, or feared that his adversary might discover a flaw in his "case :" and so on, throughout the catalogue of human avocations. But, among all these, that which marks its votaries most clearly, is school-teaching. There seems to be a sort of antagonism between this employment and all manner of neatness, and the circle of the schoolmaster's \ . page: 300-301[View Page 300-301] 300 WESTERN CIAKCTA BeS. female acquaintance never included the Graces. Attention to personal decoration is, usually, though not universally, in an inverse ratio Hi to,m ental garniture; and an -artistically-tied " cravat seems inconsistent with the supposition of a well-stored head above it. A mind which is directed toward the evolution of its own powers, has but little time to waste in adorning the body; and a fashionable costume would appear to cramp the intellect, as did the iron- vessel the genius of the Arabian tale. Although, therefore, there are numerous exceptions--per- sons whose externals are as elegant as their pursuits are intellectual-men -of assiduously- cultivated minds are apt to be careless of ap- J pearances, and the principle applies, with espe- cial force, to those whose business it is to develop the minds -of others. Nor was the schoolmaster of early days in the west, an exception to the rule. He might not be as learned, nor as purely intellectual, as some of our, modern college-professors, but he was as ungraceful, and as awkwardly clad, as the most slovenly of them all. Indeed, he calme of a stock which has never been noted for any of the lighter accomplishments, or " carnal graces ;" for at no period of its eventful history, has the puritan type been a remarkable elegant 'THE SCHOOLLMSTE. 301 one. The men so named have been better known for bravery than taste, for zeal than polish; and since there is always a corre- spondence between habits of thought and feeling and the external appearance, the physique of the race is more remarkable for rigor of muscle and anguity of outline, than for accuracy of proportion oK smoothness of finish. Neither Apollo nor Adonis was in any way related to the family; And if either had been, the proba- bility is that his kindred would have disowned him. Properly to represent his lineage, therefore, the -schoolmaster could be neither dandy nor dancing-master; and, as if to hold him to his integrity, nature had omitted to give him any temptation, in his own person, to assume either of these respectable characters. The tailor that could shape a coat to fit his shoulders, never yet handled shears; and he would have been as ill at ease, in a pair of fashionable pantaloons, as if they had been lined with chestnut-burrs. He was generally above the medium height, with a very decided stoop, as if in the habit of carrying burthens; and a long, high nose, with light blue eyes, and coarse, uneven hair, of a faded weather-stain color, gave his face the expression answering to this lathy outline. page: 302-303[View Page 302-303] "Aw..fi^ uHHARAOTERS Though never very slender, he was always thin: as if he had been flattened ot in arolling-mill; and rotundity of corporation was a mode of development not at all characteristic. His com- plexion was seldom florid and not often de cidedly pale; a sort of sallow discoloration was its prevailing hue2 like that which marks the countenance of a consumer of Cc coarse" whiskey and strong tobacco. But these failings were not the cause of his cadaverous loo k-for a faithful representative of the class held them both in commendable abhorrence-tAey were not the vices of his nature. There was a subdivision of the class, a see- ondarS type, not so often observed, but common enough to entitle it to a brief notice. fBe was, generally, short, square, and thick-the latitude bearing a betterproportion to the longitude than in his lank brother- but never approaching anything like roundness. With this attractive figure, he had a complexion of decidedly bilious darkness, and what is commonly called a h' disl- face." His nose was depressed between the eyes, an arrangement which dragged the poin6 upward in the most cruel manner, but gave it an expression equally ludicrous and impertinent. A pair of small, round, black eyes encompassed THE SCHOOT MASTER, FUO -like two little feudal fortresses, each by its moat-with a circle of yellowish white, peered out from under brows like battlements. Coarse, black hair, always cut short, and standing erect, so as to present something the appearance of a chevaux de frise, protected a hard, round head-a shape most appropriate to his lineage -while, with equal propriety, ears of corre- sponding -magnitude stood boldly forth to assert their claim to notice. Both these types were distinguished for large feet, which no boot could enclose, and hands broad beyond the compass of any glove. Neither was ever known to get drunk, to grow fat, to engage in a game of chance, or to lose his ap- petite: it became the teacher of "ingenuous youth" to preserve an exemplary bearing before those whom he was endeavoring to benefit; while respectable "appearances," and proper appreciation of the good things of life, were the alpha and omega of his system of morality. But the schoolmaster-and we now include both subdivisions of the class -was not deficient ; as an example in many other things, to all who wished to learn the true principles of living. Among other things, he was distinguished for. a rigid, iron-bound economy: a characteristic page: 304-305[View Page 304-305] 3-0 WESTERN cHAACTERS. which it might have been well to impart to many of his pupils. But that which the discreet master denominated prudence, the extravagant and wrong-headed scholar was inclined to term meanness: and historical truth compels us to admit, that the rigor of grim economy some- times wore an aspect of questionable austerity. Notwithstanding this, however, when we'reflect upon the scanty compensation afforded the benefactor of the rising generation, we can not severely blame his penurious tenacity any more than we can -censure an empty wine-cask for not giving forth the nectar which we have never poured into it. If, accordingly, he was out at the elbows, we are bound to conclude that it was because he had not the money to buy a new coat; and if he never indulged himself in any of the luxuries of life, it was, probably, because the purchase of its necessaries had already brought him too near the bottom of his purse. He was always, moreover, "a'close calcu- lator," and, with a wisdom worthy of all imita- tion, never mortgaged the future for the con- venience of the present. Indeed, this power of " calculation" was not only a talent but a, passion: you would have thought that his pro- genitors had been arithmeticians since the time of Noah. He could "figure up" any proposi- THM. SCOOS0T. 805 tion whatsoever: but he was especially great upon the question, how much' he could save from his scanty salary, and yet -live to the end of the year. In fact, it was only living that he cared for. The useful, with him, was always superior to the ornamental; and whatever was not abso- lutely necessary, he considered wasteful and extravagant. Even the profusion. of western hospitality was, in his eyes, a crime against the law of prudence, and he would as soon have forgiven a breach of good morals as a violation of this, his favorite rule. As might have been expected, he carried this' principle with him into the schoolroom, and was very averse to teaching anything beyond what would certainly " pay." He rigidly eschewed embellishment, and adorned his pupils with no graceful accomplishments. It might be that he never taught anything above the useful branches of education, because he had never learned more himself; but it is certain that he would not have imparted merely polite learning, had his own training enabled him to do so: for he had, constitutionally, a high contempt for all "flimsy" things, and, moreover, he was not em- ployed or paid to teach rhetoric or belles-lettres, and, " on principle," he never gave more in re page: 306-307[View Page 306-307] 308 WESTERN CHARACTERS. turn than the value of the money he re- ceived. With this reservation, his duties were always thoroughlys performed, for neither by nature, education, nor lineage, was he likely to slight any recognised obligation. He devoted his time and talents to his school, as completely as if he had derived from it the income of a bishop; and the iron constitution, of both body and mind, pe- culiar to his race, enabled him to endure a greater amount of continuous application than any other man. Indeed, his powers of endurance were quite surprising, and the fibre of his. mind was as tough as that of his body. Even upon a quality so valuable as this, however,- he never prided himself; for, excepting the boast of race, which was historical and not unjustifiable, he had no pride. He might be a little vain; and, in what he said and did, more especially in its manner, there might occasionally be a shade of self-conceit: for he certainly entertained no mean opinion of himself. This might be a little obtrusive, too, at times; for he had but slight' veneration for men, or their feelings, or opinions; and he would sometimes pronounce a judgment in a tone of superiority justly offensive. But he possessed the uncommon virtue of sincerity: he thoroughly believed in the infallibility of his THE SCHOOLMASTER. 807 own conclusions; and for this the loftiness of his tone might be forgiven. The most important of the opinions thus ex- pressed, were upon religious subjects, for Jews, puritans, and Spaniards, have always been very decided controversialists. His theology was grim, solemn, and angular, and he was as combative as one of Cromwell's disputations troopers. In his capacious pocket, he always carried a copy of the New Testament--as, of old, the carnal controvertists bore a sword buckled to the side. Thus armed, he was a genuine polemical " swash-buckler," and would whip out his Testament, as the bravo did his weapon, to cut you in two without ceremony. He could carve you into numerous pieces, and season you with scriptural salt and pepper; and he would do it with a gusto so serious, that it would have been no unreasonable apprehension that he intended to eat you afterward. And the value of his triumph was enhanced, too, by the consideration that it was won by no mere- * tricious graces or rhetorical flourishes; for the ease of his gesticulation was such as you see in the arms of a windmill, and his enunciation was as nasal and monotonous as that of the Reverend Eleazer Poundtext, under whose ministrations he had been brought up in all godliness. f page: 308-309[View Page 308-309] 308 WESTAERN CHBACUTSO But he possessed other accomplishments be- side those of the polemic. He was not, it is true, overloaded with the learning of " the schools"--was, in fact, quite ignorant of some of the branches of knowledge which he im- parted to his pupils: yet this was never allowed to become apparent, for as we have intimated, he would frequently himself acquire,-at night, the lessons which he was to teach on the morrow. But time was seldom wasted among the people from whom he sprang, and this want of preparation denoted that his leisure hours had been occupied in possessing himself of other acquirements. Among these, the most elegant, if not the most useful, was music, and his favorite instrument was the flute. In "David Copperfield,'"Dickens describes a certain flute-playing tutor, by the name of bell, concerning whom, and the rest of man- kind, he expresses the rash opinion, " after many years of reflection," that " nobody ever could have played worse." But Dickens never saw Strongfaith Lippincott, the schoolmaster, ' nor heard his lugubrious flute, and he therefore knows nothing of the superlative degree of de- testable playing. There are instruments upon which even an uns]klful performer may make tolerable music, but the flute is not qne of them-the mnan who murders thalt, is a malefactor entitled to no , benefit of clergy:" and our schoolmaster did murder it in the most inhuman manner! Buty let it be said in mitigation of his offense, he had never received the benefit of any scientific teaching--he had not been " under the tuition of the celebrated Signor Wheeziana," nor had he profited by " the invaltuable instructions of the unrivalled Bellowsblauer"-and it is very doubtful whether he would have gained much advantage from them, had he met the oppor- tunity. He knew that, in order to make a noise on- the tfute, or, indeed, anywhere else, it was necessary to blow, and blow he did, like Boreas I He always carried the instrument in his pocket, and on being asked to play--a piece of polite- ness for which he always looked--he drew it out with the solemnity of visage with which a tender-hearted sheriff produces a death-warrant, and while he screwed the joints together, sighed blasts like a furnace. He usually deposited himself upon the door-sill--a favorite seat for him --and collecting the younger members of the family about him, thence poured forth his Otrains of concentrated mournfulness. He invariably selected the most melancholy page: 310-311[View Page 310-311] 3810 WESTER CHaRACTRS. tunes, playing, with a more profound solemnity, the gloomiest psalms and lamentations. When he ventured upon secular music, he never per- formed anything more lively than "The Misle- toe Bough," or "Barbara Allen," and into each he threw a spirit so much more dismal than the original, as almost to induce his hearers to imitate the example of the disconsolate "Bar- bara," and "turn their faces to the wall" in despair of being ever again able to muster a smile! He was not a scientific musician, then - for- tunately for his usefulness - because thorough musicians are generally " good-for-nothing" else. But music was not a science among the pioneers, though the undertone of melancholy feeling, to which all sweet sounds appeal, was as easily reached in them as in any other people. Their wants in this, as in other things, were very easily satisfied--they were susceptible of pleas- ure from anything which was in the least com- mendable: and not feeling obliged, by any captious canon, to condemn nine true notes, be- cause of the tenth false one, they allowed them- selves to enjoy the best music they could get, without thinking of the damage done their musical and critical reputation. But his flute was not the only means of THE SCHOOLMASTER. 3" pleasing within the, schoolmaster's reach: for he could flatter as well as if the souls of ten courtiers had transmigrated into his single body. He might not do it quite so gracefully as one of these, nor with phrases so well-chosen, or so correctly pronounced, but what he said was always cunningly adapted to the character of the person whom he desired to move. He had "a deal of candied courtesy," especially for the women; and though his sturdy manhood and the excellent opinion of himself- both of which came to him from his ancestry-usually pre- served him from the charge of servility, he was sometimes a "cozener" whose conscience annoy- ed him with viery few scruples. Occasionally he might be seen fawning upon the rich; but it was not with him-as it usually is with the parasites of wealthy men--because he thought Dives more respectable, but more useful, on account of his money: the opulent possessed what the indigent wanted, and the shortest road to the goal of Cupidity, lay through the region of Vanity. There was none of that sgrvility which Mr. Carlyle has attempted to dignify with the name of " hero-worship," for the rich man was rather a -bird to be plucked, than a " hero" to be worshipped. And though it may seem that I do the schoolmaster little honor by the page: 312-313[View Page 312-313] 81 w T R CATACTEM&s. distinction, I can not but think cupidity a more rnanly trait- than servility: the beast of prey a more respectable animal than the hound. But the schoolmaster's obsequiousness was *more in manner than in inclination, and found its excuse in the dependence of his circum- stanees. It has been immemorially the custom of the world, practically to undervalue his ser- vices, and in all time teaching and poverty have been inseparable companions. Nobody ever cared how poorly he was -clad, how laborious his life, or how few his comforts; and if he failed to attend to his own interests by all the arts in his power, no one, certainly, would perform the office for him. He was expected to make himself generally useful without being 1 particular about his compensation: he was wil- ling to do the one, but was, very naturally, rather averse to the other: that which justice- would not give him, he managed to procure by stratagem. His manners thus acquired the characteristics we have enumerated, with also others. He was, for example, very officious; a peculiarity which might, perhaps, be derived from his parentage, but which was never repressed by his occupa- tion. Bhe desire to make himself agreeable, and his high opinion of hiss ability to do so, ren- THE SCHOOMSTER. 13 dered his tone and bearing very familiar; but this was, also, a trait which he shared with his race, and one which has contributed, as much as any other, to bring the people called "Yankees" into contempt in the west. The men of that section are not themselves reserved, and hate nothing more than ceremonious polite- ness: but they like to be the first to make ad- vances, and their demonstrations are all hearty, blunt, and open. They therefore disliked any- thing which has an insinuating tone, and the man who attempts to ingratiate himself with them, whether it be by elaborate arts or sidelong familiarity, at once arms them against them. The schoolmaster was inquisitive, also, and to that western men most decidedly object. They have little curiosity themselves, and seldom ask impertinent questions. When they do so, it is almost always for the purpose of insulting the man to whom they are put, and nzever to make themselves agreeable. The habit of ask- ing numerous questions was, therefore, apt to prejudice them against men whose characteris- itics might be, in other respects, very estimable; and it must be acknowledged, that vulgar and obtrusive impertinence is an unfortunate accom- paniment to an introduction. But the school- master never meant to be impertinent, for he " page: 314-315[View Page 314-315] 314 WESTERN CHARATERS. was far from being quarrelsome (except with hia scholars), and the idea that any one could be otherwise than pleased with his notice, however given, never entered his mind. Though his questions were, for the most part, asked to gratify a constitutional curiosity, he was ac- tuated in some degree, also, by the notion that his condescension would be acceptably inter- preted by those whom he thus favored. But, like many other benevolent men, who put force upon their inclinations for the benefit of their neighbors, he was mistaken in his " calculation ;" and where he considered himself a benefactor, he was by others pronounced a "bore." The fact is, he had some versatility, and, like most men of various powers, he was prone to think himself a much greater man than he really was. He was not peculiarly fitted to shine as a gallant " in hall or bower," but had he been the climax of knightly qualities, the very imper- sonation of beauty, grace, and accomplishment, he could not have been better adapted than, in his own estimation, he already was, to please the fancy of a lady. He was blissfully uncon- scious of every imperfection; and displayed himself before what he thought the admiring gaze of all dames and denmoiselles, as proudly as if he had been the all-accomplished victor in THE SCHOOLMASTER. 815 some passage of arms. Yet he carried himself, in outward appearance, as meekly as the hum- blest Christian, and took credit to himself ac- cordingly. He seldom pressed his advantages to the utter subjugation of the sighing dames, but deported himself with commendable for- bearance toward the weak and defenceless whom his perfections had disarmed. He was as mer- ciful as he was irresistible: as considerate as he was beautiful. "What a saint of a knight is the knight of Saint John l" The personal advantages which he believed made him so dangerous to the peace of woman, were counteracted, thus, by his saintly piety. For-as it became him to be, both in the char- acter of a man, and in that of a descendant of the puritans--he was always habited in "the livery of heaven." Some ill-natured and sus- picious people, it is true, were inclined to call his exemplary " walk" hypocritical, and to stig- matise his pious " conversation" as cant. But the ungodly world has always persecuted the righteous, and the schoolmaster was correct in attributing their sneers to the rebuke which his example gave to their wickedness, and to make "capital" out of the " persecution." And who shall blame him -when in the weary intervals page: 316-317[View Page 316-317] 816 waETs CAxAR. of a laborious and thankless profession, fatigue repressed enthusiasm-if he sometimes eked out the want of inspiration by a godly snuffle True piety reduces even the weapons of the scorner to the service of religion, and the citadel of the Gloomy Kingdom is bombarded with the artillery of Satan I Thus, the nose, which is so serviceable in the production of the devilish and unchristian sneer, is elevated by a saintlike zeal, to the expression of a devout whine: and this I believe to be the only satisfactory explana- tion which has ever been given, of the con- nection, in so many good men, between the nasal and the religious! But the schoolmaster usually possessed gen- uine religious feeling, as well as a pious manner; and, excepting an occasional display of -heredi- tary, and almost unconscious, cunning, he lived "a righteous and upright life." The process of becoming a respectable and respected citizen was a very short and simple one - and whether the schoolmaster designed to re- main only a lord of the ferrule, or casting the insignia of his office behind him, to seek higher things, he was never slow in adopting it. Among his scholars, there were generally half- THE SCHOOLASTEE. 817 a-dozen or more young women--marriageable daughters of substantial men; and from this number he selected, courted, and espoused, some healthy, buxom girl, the heiress of a considera- ble plantation or a quantity of " wild land." He always sought these two requisites combined -for he was equally fond of a fine person and handsome estate. Upon the land, he generally managed to find an eligible town-site; and, being a perfect master of the art of building cities on paper, and puffing them into celebrity, his sales of town-lots usually brought him a competent fortune. As years rolled on, hlk3 sub- stance increased with the improvement of the country-the rougher points of his character were gradually rubbed down -age and gray hairs thickened upon his brow - honors, troops of friends, and numerous children, gathered' round him - and the close of his career found him respected in life and lamented in death. His memory is a monument of what honesty and industry, even without worldly advantages, may always accomplish. [NOTE.-A friend expresses a doubt whether I have not made the foregoing portrait too hard-featured for historical accuracy; and, by way of fortifying his opinion, points to illustrious ex- amples of men who have taught schools in their youth-- senators and statesmen--some of whom now hold prominent page: 318[View Page 318] 818 wTrbTl; CEHARAOTERS. positions before the people, even for the highest offices in their gift. But thesenen never belonged to the class which I have attempted to, portray. Arriving in this country in youth, without the means of subsistence --in many cases, long before they had acquired the professions which afterward made them famous--they resorted to school-teaching as a mere expedient for present support, Without any intention to make it the occu- pation of their lives, or the me'ans of their advancement, They were moved by an ambition which looked beyond it, and they invariably abandoned it so soon as they had prepared themselves for another pursuit. But the genuine character took it up as a permanent em- ployment--he looked to it not only as a means of temporary subsistence, but as a source, by some of the direct or indirect channels which we have indicated, of lasting income--and he never threw it up until he had already secured that to which the other class, when they abandoned the occupation, were still looking forward. In the warfare against Ignorance, therefore, these, whom we have described, were the regular army, while the exceptions we re but volunteers for a limited period, and, in the muster sdl : rY-nanent strength, they are, therefore, not included l Of I- / page: Illustration-319[View Page Illustration-319] IX. THE SOHOOLMSTRESS. "And yet I, love thee not--thy brow Is but the sculptor's mould: It wants a'shade, it 'wants a glow-- It is less fair than cold." X* E. E I. BUT the family of the pioneer consisted of girls as well as boys; and though the former were never so carefully educated as the latter, they were seldom allowed to go wholly un- taught. The more modern system, which separates the sexes while infants, and never suffers them to come together again until they are!"mar- riageable," was not then introduced; and we think it would-have been no great misfortune to the country had it remained in Spain, whence it would seem to have been imported. Children of both sexes were intended to grow up together -to be educated in company-at least until they have reached the points where their paths naturally diverge, for thus only can they be -. i page: 320-321[View Page 320-321] 320 WESTER CHARACTERS. most useful to each other, in the duties, trials, and struggles, of after life. The artificial refinement which teaches a little girl that a boy is some- thing to be dreaded - a sort of beast of prey - before she recognises any difference, save in dress, can never benefit her at best; for by-and- by she will discover the falsehood: the very instincts of her nature would unveil it, did she learn it in no other way: and as action and re- action are equal, the rebound may cause her to entertain opinions altogether too favorable to those whom she has so foolishy been taught to fear. Nor is the effect of such a, system likely to be any better upon the other sex: for it is asso- ciation with females (as early as possible, too, all the better), which softens, humanizes, graces, and adorns the masculine character. The boy who has been denied such association -the in- cidents to whose, education have made him shy, as so many are, even of little girls --is apt to grow up morose andA selfish, ill-tempered, and worse mannered. When the impulses- of his developing nature finally force him into female society, he goes unprepared, and comes away without profit: his ease degenerates into famili- arity, his conversation is, at best, but washy sentimentalism, and the association,until the THE SCHOOLMSTRE SS. 321 accumulated rust of youth is worn away, is of very doubtful benefit to both parties. Indeed, parents who thus govern and educate their children, can find no justification for the prac- tice, until they can first so alter the course of Nature, as to establish the law, that each family shall be composed altogether of girls, or shall consist exclusively of boys! But these - modern refinements had not ob- tained currency, at the period of which we are writing; nor was any such nonsense the motive to the introduction of female teachers. But one of the lessons learned by observation of the domestic circle, and particularly of the influ- ence of the mother over her children, was the principle, that a woman can teach males of a certain age quite as well as a man, and females much better; and that, since the school-teacher stands, for the time in the place of the parent, a mistress was far more desirable, especially for the girls, than amaster. Hence, the latter had exercised his vocation in the west, but a few years, before he was followed by the former. New England was the great nursery of this class, as it was of so many others, transplanted beyond the Alleganies. Emigration, and the "* page: 322-323[View Page 322-323] 822 WESTERN CHARACTEBS. enticements and casualties of a seafaring life - drawing the men into their appropriate chan- nels of enterprise and adventure, had there re- duced their number below that of the women- thus remitting many of the latter, to other than the usual and natural occupations of ' the sex." Matrimony became a remote possibility to large, numbers-attention to household matters gave place to various kinds of light labor-and, since they were not likely to have progeny of their own to rear, many resorted to- the teaching of children belonging to others. Idleness was a rare vice; and New England girls-to their honor be it spoken--have seldom resembled "the lilies of the field," in aught, save the fair- ness of their complexions! They have never displayed much squeamishness -about work: and if they could not benefit the rising genera- tion in a maternal, were willing to make them- selves useful in a tutorial capacity. The peo- ple of that enlightened section, have always possessed the learning necessary to appreciate, and the philanthropy implied in the wish to dispel, the benighted ignorance of all other quarters of the world; and thus a competent number of them have ever been found willing to give up the comforts of home, for the benefit of the " barbarous west." THE SCHOOLMSTRESS. 323 The schoolmistress, then, generally came from the " cradle of intelligence, as well as " of lib- erty," beyond the Hudson; and, in the true spirit of benevolence, she carried her blessings (herself the greatest) across the mountain bar- rier, to bestow them, gratis, upon the spiritual- ly and materially needy, in the valley of the Mississippi. Her vocation, or,; as it would now be called, her "mission" was to teach an im- pulse not only given by her education, but be- longing to her nature. She had a constitutional tendency toward it-indeed, a genius for it;, like that which impels one to painting, another to sculpture-this to a learned profession, that to a mechanical trade. And so perfectly was she adapted to it, that "the ignorant people of the west" not recognising her " divine ap- pointment," were often at a loss to conjecture, who,lor whether anybody, could have taught her! For that same " ignorant," and too often, un- grateful people, she was full of tender pity- the yearning of the single-hearted missionary, for the welfare of his flock. They were steeped in darkness, but she carried the light--nay, she was the light! and with a benignity, often evinced by self-sacrifice-she poured it gra- ciously over the land page: 324-325[View Page 324-325] 324 WESTERS iURSACTE . "Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do: Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 't were all alike As if we had them not." For the good of the race, or of any (male) in- dividual, she would immolate herself, even upon the altar of Hymen; and, since the number, who were to be benefited by such self-devote- ment, was small in New England, but large in the west, she did well to seek a field for her benign dedication, beyond the Alleganies! Honor to the all-daring self-denial, which brought to the forlorn bachelor of the west, a companion in his labors, a solace in his afflic- tions, and" a mother to his children! Her name was invariably Grace, Charity, or Prudence; and, if names had been always de- scriptive of the personal qualities of those who bore them, she would have been entitled to all three. In the early ages of the world, names were, or, at least, were supposed to be, fair exponents of the personal characters of those, upon whom they were bestowed. But, then, the qualities must be manifested, before the name could be earned, so that all who had never distinguished % themselves, in some way, were said to be THE SCHOOLMSTRESS. 325 "nameless f"In more modern times, however, an improvement upon this system was intro- duced: the character was anticipated, and pa- rents called their children what they wished them to be, in the h6pe that they would grow to the standard thus imposed. And it is no doubt, true, that names thus bestowed had much influence in the development of charac- ter-on the same principle, upon which the boards, to which Indian women lash their infants soon after birth, have much to do with the erect carriage of the mature savage. Such an appel- lation is a perpetual memento of parental coun- sels--a substitute for barren precept--an end- less exhortation to Grace, Charity, or Prudence. I do not mean, that calling a boy Cicero will certainly make him an orator, or that all Jere- miahs are necessarily prophets; nor is it im- probable, that the same peculiarities in the parents, which dictate these expressive names, may direct the characters of the children, by controlling their education; but it is unques- tionable, that the characteristics, and even the fortunes of the man, are frequently daguerreo- typed by a name given in infancy. There is not a little wisdom in the advice of Sterne to godfathers--not "to Sicodemus a man into nothing."-"Harsh names," says D'Israeli, the page: 326-327[View Page 326-327] 326 WESTERN COHARACTERS. elder, " will have, in spite of all our philosophy, a painful and ludicrous effect on our ears and our associations; it is vexatious, that the- soft- ness of delicious vowels, or the ruggedness of inexorable consonants, should at all be connect- ed with a man's happiness, or even have an in- fluence on his fortune." \ "That which we call a rose, By any other name would smell as sweet;"' but this does not touch the question, whether, if it had not smelt as sweet we would not have given it some other name. The celebrated demagogue, Wilkes, is reported to have said, that, "without knowing the comparative mer- its of the two poets, we would have no hesita- tion in preferring John Dryden to Elkanah Set- tle,from the names only." And the reason of -this truth is to be found in the fact, that our impressions of both men and things depend upon associations, often beyond our penetration to de- tect- associations with which sound, depending on hidden laws, has quite as much to do, as sense. Among those who have carried the custom of picturesque or expressive naming, to an ex- tent bordering on the ridiculous, were the hard- headed champions of the true church-militant, the English puritans-as tHume, the bigoted THE SCHOOLMSTRESS. 327 old tory, rather ill-naturedly testifies! And the puritans of New England--whatever advan- cing intelligence may have made them in the present-were, for a long time, faithful repre- sentatives of the oddities, as well as of the vir- tues, of their fathers. And, accordingly, we find the schoolmistress -being a descendent of the Jason's-crew, who landed from the Argo-Mayflower, usually bear- ing a name thus significant, and manifesting, even at her age, traits of character justifying the compellation. What that age precisely was, could not always ble known; indeed, a lady's age is generally among indeterminate things; and it has, very properly, come to be consid- ered ungallant, if not impertinent, to be curious upon so delicate a subject. A man has no more right to know how many years a woman has, than how many skirts she wears; and, if he have any anxiety about the matter, in either case, his eyes must be the only questioners. The principle upon which the women themselves proceed, in growing old, seems to be parallel to the law of gravitation: when a storm, for example, is thrown into the air the higher it goes the slower it travels; and- the momentum toward Heaven, given to a woman at her birth, appears to decrease in about the same ratio. page: 328-329[View Page 328-329] 328 WESTERN CHARACTERS. We will not be so ungallant, then, as to in- quire too curiously into the age of the school- mistress; but, without disparagement to, her youthfulness, we may be allowed to conjecture that, in order to fit her so well for the duties of her responsible station (and incline her to undertake such labors), a goodly number of years must needs have been required. Yet she bore time well; for, unless married in the mean- while, at thirty, she was as youthful in man- ners, as at eighteen. But this is not surprising: for, even as early as her twelfth year, she had much the appear- ance of a mature woman-something like that noticed in young quakers, by Clarkson' --and her figure belonged to that rugged type, which is adapted to bear, unscathed, more than the ravages of time. She was never above the me- dium height, for the rigid rule of economy seemed to apply to flesh and blood, as to all other things pertaining to her race; at all events, material had not been wasted in giving her ex- tra longitude-at the ends. Between the ex- tremities, it might be different-for she was generally very long-waisted. But this might be accounted for in the process of jfattenzing *Author of the Life of William Penn, whose accuracy has lately been questioned. THE SOHOOLMSTRESS. 329 out: for like her compeer, tha schoolmaster, she had much more breadth than thickness. She was somewhat angular, of course, and rath- er bony; but this was only the natural corre- spondence, between the external development, and the mental and moral organization. Her eyes were usually blue, and, to speak with ac- curacy, a little cold and grayish, in their expres- sion--like the sky on a bleak morning in Au- tumn. Her forehead was very high and prom- inent, having, indeed, an exposed look, like a shelterless knoll in an open prairie: but, not content with this, though the hair above it was often thin, she usually dragged the latter forci- bly back, as if to increase the altitude of the former, by extending the skin. Her mouth was of that class called "primped," but was filled with teeth of respectable dimensions. Her arms were long, and, indeed, a little skinny, and she swung them very freely when she walked; while hands, of no insignificant size, dangled at the extremities, as if the joints of her wrists were insecure. She had large feet, too, and in walking her toes were assidu- ously turned out. She had, however, almost always one very great attraction-a fine, clear, healthy complexion--and the only blemishes upon this, that I have ever observed, were a page: 330-331[View Page 330-331] 830 WESTERN CHARACTERS. little red on the tip of her nose and on the points of her cheek-bones, and a good deal of down on her upper lip. In manners and bearing, she was brisk, prim, and sometimes a little " fidgety," as if she was conscious of sitting on a dusty chair; and she had a way 6f searching nervously for her pocket, as if to find a handkerchief with which to brush it off. She was a very fast walker, and an equally rapid talker-taking usually very short steps, as if afraid of splitting economical skirts, but-using very long words, as if entertaining no such apprehension about her throat. Her gait was too rapid to be graceful, and her voice too sharp to be musical; but she was quite un- conscious of these imperfections, especially of the latter: for at church--I beg pardon of her enlightened ancestors! I should say at " meet- ing" -her notes of praise were heard high over all the tumult of primitive singing; and, with her chin thrown out, and her shoulders drawn back, she looked, as well as sounded, the imper- sonation of melody, as contra-distinguished from harmony!, But postponing, for the present, our considera- tion of her qualifications as a teacher, we find THE SCHOOLMtISTieSS. 331 that her characteristics were still more respecta- ble and valuable as a private member of society. And in this relation, her most prominent trait, like that of her brother teacher, was her stain- less piety. In this respect, if in no other, women are always more sincere and single- hearted than men--perhaps because the dis- tribution of social duties gives her less temnp- tation to hypocrisy- and even the worldly, strong-minded, and self-reliant daughter of the church-hating Puritan-Zion, displayed la ten- dency toward genuine religious feeling.* But in our subject, this was not a mere bias, but a constant, unflagging sentiment, an every- day manifestation. She was as warm in the cause of religion on one day as upon another, in small things as in great -as zealous in the repression of all unbecoming and ungodly levity, as in the eradication of positive vice. Life was too solemn a thing with her to admit of thought- less amusements- it was entirely a state of probation, not to be enjoyed in itself, or for itself, but purgatorial, remedial, and prepara- B* y this form of expression, which may seem awkward, I mean to convey this idea: That consistency of character would seem to preclude any heartfelt reverence in the descendant of those whose piety was manifested more in the hatred of earthly; than in the love of heavenly, things. page: 332-333[View Page 332-333] 8332 WISTSN CH ACTEESO tory. She hated all devices of pleasure as her ancestors did the abominations of popery. A fiddle she could tolerate only in the shape of a bass-viol; and dancing, if practised at all, must be called "calisthenics." The drama was to her an invention of the Enemy of Souls--and if she ever saw a play, it must be at a museumm, and not within the walls of that temple of Baal, the theatre. None but " serious" conversation was allowable, and a hearty laugh was the ex- pression of a spirit ripe for the destination of unforgiven sinners. Errors,in religion were too tremendous to be tolerated for a moment, and the form (or rather anti-form) of worship handed down by her fathers, had cost too much blood and crime to be oppugned. She thought!Barebonels the only godly parliament that ever sat, and did not hate Hume half so much for his infidelity, as for his ridicule of the roundheads. Her list of martyrs was made up of the intruders ousted by Charles's "Act of Conformity," and her catalogue of saints was headed by the witch- boilers of Massachusetts bay. She abhorred the memory of all popish persecutions, and knew no difference between catholic and cannibal. Her running calendar of living saints were born "to inherit the earth," and heaven, too: they T SCHOOLMSTRESS . .33 possessed a monopoly of all truth, an unlimited 'indulgence" to enforce conformity, and, in their zeal, an infallible safeguard against the commission of error. She had no patience with those who could not " see the truth;" and he who reviled the puritan mode of worship, was "worse than the infidel." The only argument she ever used with such, was the argumenntum ad hominem, which saves the trouble of con- viction by " giving over to hardness of heart." New England was, to her, the land of Goshen -whither God's people had been led by God's hand--"the land of the patriarchs, where it rains righteousness" - and all the adjacent country was a land of Egyptian darkness. She was commendably prudent in her personal deportment: being thoroughly pure and cir- cumspect herself, she could forgive no I thought- less imprudence in her sister-woman: but she well-understood metaphysical distinctions, and was tolerant, if not liberal, to marriageable men. These she could hope to reform at some future time: and she had, moreover, a just idea of the weakness of man's nature. But being a woman, and a staid and sober-minded woman, she could * The language of a precious pamphlet, even now in eireula- tion in the west. page: 334-335[View Page 334-335] 334 WnSTERN CHARACTERS. never understand the power of temptation upon her own sex, or the commonest impulses of high spirits. Perhaps she was a little deficient in charity: but, as we have seen, it was chiefly toward her female friends, and since none can bear severe judgment more safely than woman, her austerity did little harm. But she sincerely regretted what she could never palliate; she hated not the guilty, though she could not forgive the sin; and no one was more easily melted to tears by the faults, and particularly by the follies, of the world. Wick- edness is a very melancholy thing, but it is to be punished as well as lamented: and like the unfortunate governor who was forced to con- demn his own son, she wept while she pro- nounced judgment. But earthly sorrow, by her, was given only to earthly faults : violations -of simple good morals, crimes against heavenly creeds and forms (or rather the form) of worship, claimed no tear. Her blood rose to fever-heat at the mention of an unbeliever, and she would as soon have wept for the errors of the fallen angels, as for those of anti-Robinsonians. But though thus rigid and austere, I never heard that she was at all disinclined to being courted: especially if it gave her any prospect THE SCHOOLMSTRESS.- 33S of being able to make herself useful as a wife, either to herself, her husband, or her country. She understood the art of rearing and managing children, in her capacity as a teacher: she was thus peculiarly well-fitted for matrimonial duties, and was unwilling that the world should lose the benefit of her talents. But the man who courted her must do so in the most sober, staid, and regulated spirit, for it was seldom any unmixed romance about " loves and nonsense," which moved her to the sacrifice: if she enter- tained notions of that sort, they were such only as could find a place in her well-balanced mind, and, above all, were the subject of no raptures or transports of delight. If she indulged any enthusiasm, in view of the approaching change, it was in the prospect of endless shirt-making, and in calculations about how cheaply (not how happily) she could enable her husband to live. She had no squeamish delicacy about allowing the world to know the scope and meaning of her arrangements, and all her friends partici- pated in her visions of comfort and economy. False modesty was no part of her nature--and her sentiment could be reduced to an algebraic formula--excluding the " unknown quantities" usually represented by the letters b, e, and d: meaning c" bliss," "cottages," and (" devotion." page: 336-337[View Page 336-337] 836 WESTERN CHARAC TRS. Yet, though she cared little for poetry, and seldom understood the images of fancy, she was not averse to a modicum of scandal in moments of relaxation; for the faults of others were the illustrations- of her prudent maxims, and the thoughtlessness of a sister was the best possible text for a moral homily. The tense rigidity of her character, too, sometimes required a little unbending, and she had, therefore, no special aversion to an occasional surreptitious novel. But this she would indulge only in private; for in her mind, the worst quality of transgression was its bad example; and she never failed, in public, to condemn all such things with be- coming and virtuous severity. Nor must this apparent inconsistency be construed to her dis- advantage; for her strong mind and well-forti- fied morals, could withstand safely what would have corrupted a large majority of those around her; and it was meet, that one whose " mission" it was to reform, should thoroughly understand the enemy against which she battled. And these things never unfavorably affected her life and manners, for she was as prudent in her de- portment (ill-natured people say prdi8sh) as if some ancestress of hers had been deceived, and left in the family a tradition of man's perfidy and woman's frailty. TaHE B=ooLMEs- 8 She was careful, then, of three things--her clothes, her money, and her reputation: and, to do her justice, the last was as spotless as the first, and as much prized as the second, and that is saying a good deal, both for its purity and estimation. Neat, economical2 and prudent, were, indeed, the three capital adjectives of her vocabulary, and to deserve them was her eleventh commandment. With one exception, these were the texts of all her homilies, and the exception was, un- luckily, one which admitted of much more argument. It was the history of the puritans. But upon this subject, she was as dexterous a special pleader as Neale, and as skilful, in giving a false coloring to facts, as D'Aubigne. But she had the advantage of these worthies in that her declamation was quite honest: she had been taught sincerely and heartily to believe all she asserted. She was of the opinion that but two respectable ships had been set afloat since the world began: one of which was Noah's ark, and the other the Mayflower. She believed that no people had ever endured such persecu- tions as the puritans, and was especially eloquent upon the subject of "New Englanid's Blarneyp stone," the Rock of Plymouth. 1S page: 338-339[View Page 338-339] 338 WaTlzilfN CHARACTERS. Indeed, according to the creed of her people, historical and religious, this is the. only piece of granite in the whole world " worth speaking of;" and geologists have sadly wasted their time in travelling over the world in search of the records of creation, when a full epitome of everything deserving to be known, existed in so small a space I A11 the other rocks of the earth sink into insignificance, and "hide their diminished heads," when compared to this mighty stoue I The Rock of Leucas, from which the amorous Lesbian maid cast herself disconsolate into the sea, is a mere pile of dirt: the Tarpeian, whence the Law went forth to' the whole world for so many centuries, is not fit to be mentioned in the same day: the Rock of Cashel, itself, is but the subject of profane Milesian oaths; and the Ledge of Plymouth is the real "Rock of Ages!" It is well that every people should have some- thing to adore, especially if that " something" belongs exclusively to themselves. It elevates their self-respect: and, for this object, even his- torical fictions may be forgiven. But, as we have intimated, in the course of time the schoolmistress became a married woman; and as she gathered experience, she gradually learned that New England is not the \ v THE SCHOOLMSTRESS. -339 whole "moral vineyard," and that one might, be more profitably employed than in disputing about questionable points of history. Noe duties devolved upon her, and new responsi- bilities rained fast. Instead of teaching the children of other people, she now raised chil- dren for other people to teach. New sources of pride were found in these, and in her husband and his prosperity. She discovered that she could be religious without bigotry, modest without prudery, and economical without mean- ness: and, profiting by the lessons thus learned, she subsided into a true, faithful, and respectable matron, thus, at last, fulfilling her genuine "mission." page: 340-341[View Page 340-341] X. THE POLITICIAN. "All would be deemed, e'en from the cradle, fit To rule in politics as well as wit: The grave, the gay, the fopling, and the dunce, Start up (God bless us I) statesmen all at once 1" CHURCHLL. In a country where the popular breath sways men to its purposes or caprices, as the wind bends the weeds sin a meadow, statesmanship may become a system, but can never rise to the dignity of a science; and politics, instead of being an art, is a series of arts. A system is order without principle: a science is order, based upon principle. Statesmanship has to do with generalities-with the relations of states, the exposition and preservation of con- stitutional provisions, and with fundamental organizations. Politics relates to measures, and the details of legislation. The at of governing is the accomplishment of the true politician: THB POLTIOIT. 8 4 the arts of governing are the trickeries of the demagogue. Right is the key-note of one: popularity of the other. The large majority of men are sufficiently candid to acknowledge--at least to themselves -that they are unfit for the station of lawgiver ; but the vanity and jealousy begotten by par- ticipation in political power, lead many of them, if not actually to believe, at all events to act upon the faith, that men, no more able than themselves, are the best material for rulers. R is a kind of compromise between their modesty and. self-love: not burthening them with the trials and responsibilities of positions for which they feel incompetent, but soothing their vanity by the contemplation of office-holders not at all their superiors. Below a certain (or uncertain) grade, therefore, political stations are usually filled by men of very moderate abilities: and& their elevation is favored-indeed, often effect- ed-by the very causes which should prevent it. Such men are prone to thrust themselves upon public notice, and thus secure, by persist- ence and impudence, what might nbt be awarded them on the score of merit. It is a trite remark, that people are inclined to accept a man's estimate of himself, atnd-to o page: 342-343[View Page 342-343] 342 WESTERN CHARACTERS. put him in possession of that place, in their con- sideration, which he has the hardihood to claim. And the observation is just, to this extent: if the individual does not respect himself, probably no one else will take that trouble. But in a Country where universal suffrage reigns, it- may be doubted whether the elevation of an ordinary man indicates any recognition of the justice of his claims. On the contrary, they may be en- dorsed precisely because they are false: that is, because he really possesses no other title to the support of common men, than that which is founded- upon fellow-feeling or sympathy of character. Many a man, therefore, who' re- ceives his election as a compliment from the voters, if he understood the motives of their action, would throw up his office in disgust; for in a large majority of cases, the popular choice, sofar from being an assertion of the candidate's -peculiar fitness to be singled out from among his brethren, is only a declaration that neither talent nor character entitles him to the dis- tinction. The cry that a man is," one of the people," will bring him great strength at the ballot-box: but this is a phrase which means very different things, according as it is used by the candidate or the voter, and, in many cases, if they could thoroughly understand each otherq TIME POLITICIAN. 343 the latter would, not give his support, and the former would not ask it. These remarks are applicable to all stages of society's progress; for, if the world were so en- lightened, that, in the scale of intellect, such a man as Daniel Webster -could only be classed as an idiot, there would still be the " ignorant vulgar," the "uneducated classes." Society is one entire web- albeit woven with threads of wool and silk, of silver and gold: turn it as you will, it -must all turn together; and if a whirlwind of enlightenment should waft it to the skies, although each thread would be im- measurably above its present condition, the relation of one to another would still be the same. If the baser wool should be transmuted into gold, the very same process would refine and sublimate the precious metal, in a corre- sponding ratio; and the equilibrium of God's appointed relations would remain undisturbed. But it is more especially in the primitive periods, before the great political truths be- come household words, and while the reign of law and municipal organization is a vague and distant thing, that most citizens shrink from official duties. Diffidence, in this matter is, page: 344-345[View Page 344-345] 844 - WESTERN CHARACTERS. fortunately, a disease which time will alleviate -a youthful weakness, which communities "outgrow," as children do physical defects; and, -I believe, of late years, few offices have -' gone begging," either east or west of the great barrier of the Allegany. In the earlier periods of its history, we have seen that the western country was peculiarly situated. The settlements were weak and the population small; with the exception of a few narrow fields, in the vicinity of each frontier fort, or stockade, the land was a wilderness, held in undisturbed possession by the savages and wild beasts. The great struggle, which we call the Revolution, but which was, in fact, only a justifiable and successful rebellion, had ex- hausted the force and drained the coffers of the feeble federal government; had plunged the infant states into enormous debts; and the only means of paying these were the boundless but unclaimed: lands of the west, which the same causes rendered them unable to protect. The scattered settlements on the Mississippi side of the Alleganies, were thus left to their own scanty resources; and the distance was so great, that, had the older states been able^ to afford assistance, the delays and losses attendant upon its transmission across so wide a tract of TEE rOLITICI. 345 wilderness, would have made it almost nuga- tory. In those times. therefore, though a few were -looking forward to separate political organiza- tion and the erection of new states, the larger number of the western people were too con- stantly occupied with their defence, to give much attention to internal politics. Such or- ganization as they had was military, or pa- triarchal: the early pioneer, who had dis- tinguished himself in the first explorations of the country, or by successfully leading and establishing a new'settlement, as he became the commander of the local fort, was also the law- giver of the community. The pressure of ex- ternal danger was too close to allow a very liberal democracy in government; and, as must be the case in all primitive assemblages of men, the counsels and conmrrands of him whom-they knew to be the most able, were always observed. He who had proven himself competent to lead was, therefore, the leader ipso facto and de jure; and the evidence required was the per- formance of such exploits, and the display of such courage and sagacity, as were necessary to the defence, well-being, and protection of the community. It is obvious that nor mere pretender could 15* page: 346-347[View Page 346-347] 846 WESTERN CHARACTERS. exhibit these proofs; and that, where they were taken as the sole measure of a man's worth, dexterity with a rifle must be of more value than the accomplishments of a talker-Indian- fighting a more respectable occupation than speech-making. Small politicians were, there- fore, very small men, and saying that one liad "a turn for politics," would have been equiva- lent to calling him a vagabond. The people had neither time nor patience to listen to decla- mation -the man who rose in a public assembly, and called upon his neighbors to follow him in avenging a wrong, made the only speech they cared to hear. "Preambles and resolutions" were unmeaning formalities--their "resolu- tions" were taken in their own minds, and, to use their own expressive words, they executed them ' without preamble." An ounce of lead was worth more than a pound of advice; and, in the vindication of justice, a " charge" of gun- powder was more effectual than the most tedious judicial harangue. It is, even now, a proud, but well-founded boast, of western men, that these traits have been transmitted to them from their fathers--that they are more remarkable for Jighting than for wrangling, for acting than for talking. In such a state of society, civil offices existed THE POLITICIAN, 347 g scarcely in name, and were never very eagerly sought. That which makes official station de- sirable is obedience to its authority, and if the title of " captain" gave the, idea of more abso: lute power than that of "sheriff," one would rather command a company of militia than the "posse comitatus." Besides, the men of the frontier were simple-hearted and unambitious, desiring nothing so much as to be 'left alone," and willing to make a compact of forbearance with the whole world--excepting only the In- dians. They had never been accustomed to the restraints of municipal regulations, they were innocent of the unhealthy pleasures of office- holding, or the degrading impulses of office- seeking. Their lives had given them little or no knowledge of these things; experience had never suggested their importance, for their acquaint- ance with life was, almost exclusively, such as could be acquired in the woods and forest pathways. But as time rolled away, and the population of the country became more dense-as the pressure of external danger was withdrawn, and the necessities of defence grew less urgent- the rigor of military organization came gradu- ally to be somewhat irksome. The seeds of civil institutions began to germinate amorig the page: 348-349[View Page 348-349] 348 WES'rttN CHAsB TERS. people, while the extending interests of com- munities required corresponding enactments and regulations. The instincts of social beings, love of home and family, attachment to property, the desire of tranquillity, and, perhaps, a leaven of ambition for good estimation among neighbors, all combined to open men's eyes to the import- ance of peaceful institutions. The day of 'he rifle and scalping-knife passed away, and justice without form--the rule of the elementary strong-hand-gave place to order and legal ceremony, Then first began to appear the class of poli- ticians, though, as yet, office-seeking had not become a trade,- nor office-holding a regular means of livelihood. Politics had not acquired a place among the arts, nor had its professors become the teachers of the land. There were few, indeed, who sought to fill civil stations; and, although men's qualifications for office were, probably, not any more rigidly examined then than now, those who possessed the due degree of prominence, either deemed them- selves, or were believed by their fellow-citizens, peculiarly capable of discharging such functions. They were generally men who had made them- selves conspicuous or useful in other capacities THE POLITICIAN. 349 - who had become well or favorably known to their neighbors through their zeal, courage, sagacity, or ppblic spirit. A leader of regula- tors, for example, whose administration of his dangerous powers had been marked by prompti- tude and severity, was expected to be equally efficient when clothed with more regular au- thority. A captain of rangers, whose enter- prises had been remarkable for certainty and finzish, would, it was believed, do quite as good service, in the capacity of a civil officer. A daring pioneer, whose courage or presence of mind had saved himself and others from the dangers of the wilderness, was supposed to be an equally sure guide in the pathless ways of politics. Lawyers were yet few, and not of much repute, for they were, for the most part, youthful adventurers, who had come into the field long before the ripening of the harvest. There was another class, whose members held' prominent positions, though they had never been distinguished for the possession of any of the qualifications above enumerated. These might be designated as the noisy sort-loud- talking, wise-looking men, self-constituted ora- 'cles and advice-givers, with a better opinion of their own wisdom than any one else was willing page: 350-351[View Page 350-351] 350 WESTERN CHARACTERS. to endorse. Such men became "file-leaders," or " pivot-men," because the taciturn people of the west, though inclined to undervalue a mere talker, were simple-minded enough to accept a man's valuation of his own powers: or easy- tempered enough to spare themselves the trouble of investigating so small a matter. It was of little consequence to them, whether the candi- date was as wise as he desired to be thought; and since, in political affairs, they knew of no interest which they could have in disputing it, for Ais gratification they were willing to admit it. These were halcyon days for mere pre- tenders-though for no very flattering reason: since their claims were allowed chiefly because they were not deemed worth controverting. Those days, thanks to the " progress of intelli- gence!" are now gone by : the people are better acquainted with the natural history of such animals, and--witness, ye halls of Congress!- none may now hold office except capable, pa- triotic, and disinterested men! Nor must we be understood to assert that the primitive politician was the reverse of all this, save in the matter of capability. And, even in that particular, no conception of his deficiency ever glimmered in his consciousness. His own assumption, and the complaisance of his fellow- THE POLITICIAN. 351 citizens, were inter-reactive, mutually cause and effect. They were willing to confirm his valuation of his own talents: he was inclinedto exalt himself in their good opinion. Parallel to this, also, was the oracular tone of his speech: the louder he talked, the more respectfully silent were his auditors; and the more attentive they became, the noisier he grew. Submission always encourages oppression, and admiration adds fuel to the fire of vanity. Not that the politi- cian was precisely a despot, even over men's opinions: the application of that name to him would have been as sore a wound to his self- respect as the imputation of horse-stealing. He was but an oracle of opinion, and though allowed to dictate in matters of thought as absolutely as if backed by brigades of soldiers, he was a sovereign whose power existed, only through the consent of his subjects. In personal appearance, he was well-calcu- lated to retain the authority intrusted to him by such men. He was, in fact, an epitome of all the physical qualities which distinguished the rugged people of the west: and between these and the moral and intellectual, there is an in- variable correspondence - as if the spirit within had moulded its material encasement to the page: 352-353[View Page 352-353] '352 WESTWEl. CHARACTERS. planes and angles of its own "form and pres- sure." National form and feature are the external marks of national character, stamped more or less distinctly in different individuals, but, in the aggregate, perfectly correspondent and com- mensurate. The man, therefore, who possesses the national traits of character in their best de- velopment, will be, also, the most faithful repre- sentative of his race in physical characteristics. At some periods, there are whole classes of these types; and if there be any onze who embodies the character more perfectly than all others, the tranquillity of the age is not calculated to draw him forth. But in all times of trouble--of revolution or national ferment - the perfect Man-emblem is seen to rise, and (which is more to the purpose) is sure to stand at the head of his fellows: for he who best represents the char- acter of his followers, becomes, by God's ap- pointment, their leader. To this extent, the v0ox populi is the vox .Dei ; and the unfailing success of every such man, throughout his ap- pointed'term, is the best possible justification of the choice. What was Washington, for example, but an epitome of the steady and noble qualities com- s THM POLMCIAn. 63 bined of cavalier and puritan, which were then coalescing in the American chargeter? And what more perfect correspondence could be conceived between the moral and intellectual and the physical outlines? What was Crom- well but the Englishman, not only of his own time, but of all times I And the testimony of all who saw him, what is it, but that a child, who looked upon him, could not, fail to see, in blis very lineaments, the great and terrible man he was;. And Napoleon, was he aught but an abridgment of the French nation, the sublimate and. " proof " essence of French character? Not one, of all the great men of history, has possessed, so far as we know, a physical constitution more perfectly representing, even in its advancing grossness, both the strength and weakness of the people he led. In tranquil times, these things are not ob- served in one individual more than in others of his class, and we are, therefore, not prepared to decide whether, at such periods, the one maob exists. The great Leviathan, the king of all the creatures of the ocean, rises to the surface only in the tumult of the storm ; his huge, portentous form, lies on the face of the troubled waters only when the currents are changed and the fountains of the deep. are broken up.' page: 354-355[View Page 354-355] 354 WjdSt'N CRARAACTERS, Nature does no superfluous work, and it may require the,same causes which produce the storm to organize its Ruler. If a great rebellion is boiling among men, the mingling of the ele- ments is projecting, also, the Great Rebel: if a national cause is to be asserted, the principles upon which it -rests will first. create its appro- priate Exponent. But when no such agitation is on the point of breaking out-when the crisis is not near, and the necessity for such greatness distant--national character probably retains its level; and though there be no one whom the people will recognise as the arch-man, the representatives, losing in intensity what they gain in numbers, become a class. They fill the civil stations of the country, and are known as men of mark-their opinions are received, their advice accepted, their leading followed. No one of them is known instinctively, or trusted implicitly, as the leader of Nature's ap- pointment: yet they are, in fact, the exponents of their time and race, and in exact proportion to the degree in which they possess the char- acter, will they exhibit, also, the physical pecu- liarities. Thus it was at the time of which we are writing, with the class to which belonged the THE POLITICIAN. 355 politician, and a description of his personal ap- pearance, like that of any other man, will con- vey no indistinct impression of his internal character. Such a description probably combined more characteristic adjectives than that of any other personage of his time-adjectives, some of which were applicable to many of his neigh- bors, respectively, but all of which might be bestowed upon him only. He was tall, gaunt, angular, swarthy, active, and athletic. His hair was, invariably, black as the wing of the raven; even in that small portion which the cap of raccoon-skin left exposed to the action of sun and rain, the gray was but thinly scattered; imparting to the monotonous darkness only a more iron character. As late as the present day, though we have changed in many things, light-haired men seldom attain eminence among the western people: many of our legislators are young enough, but none of them are beardless. They have a bilious look, as if, in case of illness, their only hope would lie in caloniel and jalap. One might understand, at the firstt glance, that they are men of talent, not of geniuss; and that physical energy, the enduring vitality of the body, has no inconsiderable share in the power of the mind. page: 356-357[View Page 356-357] 356 . WESTRN OHARA TERN S. Corresponding to the sable of the hair, the politician's eye was ally small, and in- tensely black--not the dead, inexpressive jet, which gives the idea of a- hole through white paper, or of a cavernous socket in a death's- head; but the keen, midnight darkness, in whose depths you can see ai twinkle of starlight- where you feel that there is meaning as well as color. There might be an expression of cunning along with that of penetration -but, in a much higher degree, the blaze of irascibility. There could be no doubt, from its glance, that its pos- sessor was an excellent hater; you might be assured that he would never forget an injury or betray a friend. A stoop in the shoulders indicated that, in times past, he had been in the habit of carrying a heavy rifle, and of closely examining the ground over which he walked; but what the chest thus lost in depth it gained in breadth. His lungs had ample space in which to play-- there was nothing pulmonary even in the droop- ing shoulders. Few of his class have ever lived to a very advanced age, but it was not for want lof iron-constitutions, that they went early to the grave. The same services' to his country, which gave the politician his prominence, also -shortened his life. THE POLITICIAN. 857 From shoulders thus bowed, hung long, mus- cular arms-sometimes, perhaps, dangling a little ungracefully, but always under the com- mand of their owner, and ready for any effort, however violent. These were terminated by broad, bony hands, which looked like grapnels their grasp, indeed, bore no faint resemblance to the hold of those symmetrical instruments. Large feet, whose toes were usually turned in, like those of the Indian, were wielded by limbs whose vigor and activity were in keeping with the figure they supported. Imagine, with these peculiarities, a free, bold, rather swaggering gait, a swarthy complexion, and conformable features and tones of voice: and--excepting his cos- tume--you have before your fancy a complete picture of the early western politician. But the item of costume is too important to be passed over with a mere allusion. As well might we paint a mountain without its verdant -clothing, its waving plumes of pine and cedar, as the western man without his picturesque and characteristic habiliments. The first, and in- dispensable article of dress, was the national hunting-shirt: a garment whose easy fit was well-adapted, both to the character of his figure and the freedom of his movements. Its nature did not admit much change in fashion: the only page: 358-359[View Page 358-359] 58 WESTERN CHABRACTERS. variations of which it was capable, were those of ornament and color. It might be fringed around the cape and skirt, or made plain; it might be blue, or copper-colored-perhaps tinged with a little madder. And the variety of material was quite as limited, since it must be of either jeans or deer-skin. Corresponding to this, in material, style, and texture, he wore, also, a pair of wide pantaloons -not always of precisely the proper length for the limbs of the wearer, but having invariably a broad waisthand, coming up close under the arms, and answering the purpose of the modern vest. People were not so dainty about "set" and " fit," in those days, as they have since be- come; and these primitive integuments were equally well-adapted to the figure of any one to whose lot they might fall. In their production, no one had been concerned save the family of the wearer. The sheep which bore the wool, belonged to his own flock, and all the opera- tions, subsequent to the shearing, necessary to the ultimate result of shaping into a garment, had been performed by his wife or daughter. Many politicians have continued this affectation of plainness, even when the necessity has ceased, on account of its effect upon the masses: for people are apt to entertain the notion, that de- THE POLITICIAN. 359 cent clothing is incompatible with mental ability, and that he who is most manifestly be- hind the improvements of the time, is best qualified for official stations. A neck-cloth, or cravat, was never seen about the politician's throat; and for the same reason of expediency: for these were refinements of affectation which had not then been introduced; and a man who thus compassed his neck, could no more have been elected to an office, than if he had worn the cap and bells of a Saxon jester. The shirt-bosoms of modern days were in the same category; and starch; was an article con- traband to the law of public sentiment-inso- much that no epithet expressed more thorough contempt for a man, than the graphic word "starched." A raccoon-skin cap - or, as a piece of extravagant finery, a white-wool hat-with a pair of heavy shoes,'not unfrequently without the luxury of hose - or, if with them, made of blue-woollen yarn, from the back of a sheep of the aforesaid flock-- completed the element of costume. He was not very extravagantly dressed, as the reader sees; but we can say of him-- what could not be as truly spoken of many men, or, indeed, of many women, of this day -that his clothing bore distinct reference to his character, page: 360-361[View Page 360-361] d was Welladapted to style of beauty. and was well-adapted to his "style of beauty." In fact, everything about him, form, face, man- ners, dress, was in" in keeping" with his char- acteristics. In occut ation, he was usually a farmer; for the materials of which popular tribunes are made in later times- such as lawyers, gentle- men of leisure, and pugnacious preachers-- were not then to be found., The population of the country was thoroughly agricultural; and though (as I believe I have elsewhere observed) the rural people of the west were neither a cheerful nor a polished race, as a class, they possess, even yet, qualities, which, culminating in an individual, eminently fit him ,for the role of a noisy popular leader. But a, man who is merely fitted to such a position, is a very different animal to one quali- fied to give laws for the government of the citizen. Aftr all our vain boasting, that public sentiment is the law of our land, there is really a very broad distinction between forming men's opinions and controlling their action. If the government had been so organized, that the pressure of popular feeling might make itself felt, directly, in the halls of legislation, our history, instead of being that of a great and ad- THE POLITICIAN. 361 vancing nation, would have been only a chroni- cle of factious and unstable violence. It does not follow, that one who is qualified to lead voters at the polls, or, as they say here, " on the stump," will be able to embody, in' enlight- ened enactments, the sentiment which he con- tributes to form, any more than that the tanner will be able to shape a well-fitting boot from the leather he prepares. "Suum cuique proprium dat 2Vatura donum." A blacksmith, therefore, is not the best manufacturer of silver spoons, a lawyer the ablest writer of sermons, nor either of them necessarily the safest law-maker. But those things to which his qualifications were appropriate, the politician did thoroughly and well. For example, he was a skilful farmer -at least in the leading branches of that calling, though he gave little or no attention to the merely ornamental. For the latter, he had neither time nor inclination. Even in the es- sentials, it was only by working, as he expressed it, " to the best advantage,"-that is, contriving to produce the largest amount of results with the least expenditure of labor and patience- that he got sufficient leisure to attend to his public duties; and as for "inclination;" no * Translate " donum," talent. 16 . page: 362-363[View Page 362-363] 83$2 WESTERN CHARACTERS. quaker ever felt a more supreme contempt for mere embellishment. He was seldom very happy in his domestic relations; for, excepting at those seasons when the exigencies of his calling required his con- stant attention, he spent but little of his time at his own fireside. He absented himself until his home became strange and uncomfortable to him: and he then did the same, because it had become so. Every man who may try the ex- periment will discover that these circumstances mutually aggravate each other-are, inter- changeably, cause and effect. His children were, however, always numerous, scarcely ever falling below half-a-dozen, and not unfreqnently doubling that allowance. They generally ap- peared upon the stage in rapid succession -one had scarcely time to get out of the way, before another was pushing him from his place. The peevishness thus begotten in the mother-by the constant habit of nursing cross cherubs- though it diminished the amount of family peace, contributed, in another way, to the general welfare: it induced the father to look abroad for enjoyment, and thus gave the country the benefit of his wisdom as a political coun- sellor. Public spirit, and the consciousness of TIE POLMTICAM. 363 ability, have " brought out" many politicians: but uncomfortable homes have produced many more. He was an oracle on the subject of hunting, and an unerring judge of whiskey-to both which means of enjoyment he was strongly attached. He was careful, however, neither to hunt nor drink in solitude, for even his amuse- ments were subservient to his political interests. To hunt alone was a waste of time, while drink- ing alone was a loss of good-fellowship, upon which much of his influence was founded. He was particularly attached to parties of half-a- dozen, or more; for in such companions, his talents were always conspicuous. Around a burgou .pot, or along the trenches of an im- promptu barbecue, he shone in meridian splen- dor; and the approving smack of his lips, over a bottle of "backwoods' nectar," was the seal of the judgment which gave character to the liquor. "Militia musters" were days in his calendar, "marked with a white-stone;" for it was upon * A kind of soup, made by boiling all sorts of game withl corn, onions, tomatoes, and a variety of other vegetables. When skilfully concocted and properly seasoned, not at all unsavory. So called from a soup made by seamen. page: 364-365[View Page 364-365] 364: WESTEN CHAAOTERA S. these occasions thlat hle appeared in his utmost magnificence.: Hts grade was Jneverlower than that of colonel, and it not unfrequently extend- ed to, or even beyond, the rank of brigadier- general. It was worth " a sabbath-day's jour- ney" on foot, to witness one of these parades; for I believe that all the annals of the burlesque do not furnish a more amusing caricature of the "pomp and circumstance" of war. Compared to one of those militia regiments, Falstaff's famous corps, whose appearance was so un- military as to prevent even that liberal-minded gentleman from marching through Coventry in their company, was a model of elegance and discipline. Sedeno's cavalry in the South Amer- ican wars, though their uniform consisted only of " leggings," a pair of spurs, and a Spanish blanket, had more the aspect of a regular coneps d'armee than these! A mob of rustics was never armed with a more extensive variety of weapons; and no night's " haul" of a recruiting sergeant's net, ever made a more disorderly ap- pearance, when mustered in the morning for inspection. The " citizen-soldier" knew no more about- "dressing the line," than about dressing him- self, and the front of his company presented as many '^eclualities as a " worm-fence.." Tall THE POLITICIAN. 865 mnael and short men--beaver lihats and raccoon- skin caps--rusty firelocks and long corn-stalks --stiff brogans and naked feet-composed the grand display. There were as many officers as men, and each was continually commanding and instructing his neighbor, but never thinking of himself. At the command "Right dress!'" (when the officer par excellence knew enough to deliver it) some looked right, others left- some thrust their heads out before --some lean- ed back to get a glimpse behind-and the whole line waved like a streamer in the wind. "Silence in line!" produced a greater clamor than ever, for each repeated the command to every other, sending the order along the ranks like a rolling fire, and not unfrequently enforcing it with the push of a corn-stalk, or a vigorous elbow-hint. When a movement was directed, the order reached the men successively, by the samne process of repetition- so -that while some files were walking slowly, and looking back to beckon on their lagging fellow-soldiers, others were forced to a quick run to regain their places, and the scramble often continued many minutes after the word "-halt!"The longer the parade lasted, the worse was the drill; and after a tedious day's " muster," each man knew less, if possible: of military tactics, than he did in the morning. page: 366-367[View Page 366-367] 366 WESTERN CODARACTERS. But the most ludicrous part of the display, was the earnest solemnity with which the poli- tician-colonel endeavored " to lick the mass into shape." If you had judged only by the ex- pression of his face, you would have supposed that an invading army was already within our borders, and that this democratic army was the only hope of patriotism to repel the foreign foe. And, indeed, it might not be too much to say, that some such idea actually occupied his mind: for he was so fond of "L supposing cases," that bare possibilities sometimes grew in his mind to actual realities; and it was a part of his creed, as well as his policy to preach, that "a nation's best defence" is to be found in " the undisciplined valor of its citizens." His mili- tary maxims were not based upon the history of such countries as Poland and Spain--and Hungary had not then added her example to the list. He never understood the relation be- tween discipline and efficiency; and the doc- trine of the (" largest liberty" was so popular, that, on his theory, it must be universally right. Tempered thus, and modified by some of the tendencies of the demagogue, his love of military parade amounted to a propensity, a trait which he shared with most of the people among whom he lived. e THE POLITICIAN 86.7 The inference from this characteristic, that he possessed what phrenologists used to call "combativeness," is not unavoidable, though such was the fact. He was, indeed, quite plug- nacious, ready, at all times, to fight for himself or for his friends, and never with any very special or discriminating reference to the cause. of quarrel. He was, however, seldom at feud with any one whose enmity could materially injure him: extensive connections he always conciliated, and every popular man was his friend. Nor was he compelled, in order to com- pass these ends, to descend to any very low arts; for "the people," were not so fastidious in those days, as they seem since to have become; and a straightforward sincerity was then the first element of popularity. The politician was not forced to affect an exemplary "walk and conversation ;" nor was an open declaration of principle or opinion dangerous to his success. This liberality in public sentiment had its evils: since, for example, the politician was not generally the less esteemed for being rather a hard swearer. In the majority of the class, in- deed, this amounted only to al energetic or em- phatic mode of expression; and such the people did not less respect, than if, in the same person, they had had reason to believe the opposite tone page: 368-369[View Page 368-369] 368 . WEST'lSN CHARACTERS. hypocritical. The western people--to their honor be it written --were, and are, mortal enemies to everything like cant: though they might regret, that one's morals were no better than they appeared, they were still more grieved, if they found evidence, that they were worse than they claimed to be. But, though the politician was really very open and candid in all the affairs of life, in his own estimation he was a very dexterous and dangerous intriguer: he often deceived himself into the belief, that the success, 'which was in fact the result of his manly candor, was attribu- table only to his cunning management. He was always forming, and attempting to execute, schemes for circumventing his political oppo- nents; but, if he bore down all opposition, it was in. spite of his chicanery, and not by its assistance. Left-handed courses are never ad- vantageous " in the long run ;" and, perhaps, it would be well if this lesson were better under- stood by politicians, even in our own enlight- ened day. For the arts of rhetoric he had small respect; in his opinion, the man who was capable f maling a long, florid speech, was fit for ae else. His own oratorical effortss were usally THE POLITICIAN. 369 brief, pithy, and to the point. For example, here follows a specimen, which the writer heard delivered in Illinois, by a candidate for the legislature:- "Fellow-citizens: I am no speech-maker, but what I say, I'll do. I've lived among you twenty years, and if I've shown myself a clever fellow, you know it, without a speech: if I'm not a clever fellow, you know that, too, and wouldn't forget it with a speech. I'm a candi- date for the legislature: if you think I'm ' the clear grit,' vote for me: if you think Major :R of a better 'stripe' than I am, vote for Dim. The fact is, that either of us will make a devilish good representative!" For the satisfaction of the reader, we should record that the orator was triumphantly elected, andj though " no speech-maker," was an excel- lent member for several years. The saddest, yet cheerfullest--the quaintest, yet most unaffected of moralists, has written "A Complaint upon the Decay of Beggars," which will not cease to be read, so long as pure English and pure feeling are understood and appreciated. They were a part of the recollec- tions of his childhood--images painted upon his heart, impressions made in his soft and pity- 16* page: 370-371[View Page 370-371] 370 WESTERN CRARACTERS. ing nature; and the "u besom of societarian ref- ormati;," legislating busybodies, and tinkers of the general welfare, were sweeping them away, with all their humanizing influences, their deep lessons of dire adversity and gentle v charity. There are some memories of the childhood of western men--unlike, and yet similar in their generous persuasions on all pure young hearts --upon whose "Decay" might, also, be written a "Complaint," which should come as truly, and yet as sadly, from the heart of him, who remembers his boyhood, as did that from the heart of Elia. Gatherings of the militia, bur- gou-hunts, barbecues, and anniversaries-pha- ses of a primitive, yet true and hearty time!- are fast giving way, before the march of a bar- barous " progress" (erroneously christened) "' of intelligence."- The hard spirit of money-get- ting, the harder spirit of education-getting, and the hardest of all spirits, that of pharasaical morality, have divorced our youth, a vminculo, from every species of amusement; and life has come to be a probationary struggle, too fierce to allow a moment's relaxation. The bodies of children are drugged and worried into health, their intellects are stuffed and forced into pre- mature development, or early decay--but their THE POLITICIAN. 371 hearts are utterly forgotten Enjoyment is a for- bidden thing, and only the miserable cant of '" in- tellectual pleasure" is allowed. Ideas--of phi- losophy, religious observance, and mathematics are supplied ad nausearm; but the encourage- ment of a generous zmpoulse, or a magnani- mous feeling, is too frivolous a thing to have a place in our vile system. Childrlen are " brought lp," and " brought out," as if they were com- posed exclusively of intellect and body: And, since the manifestations of any other element -are pronounced pernicious-even if the exis- tence of the element itself be recognised --the means of fostering it, innocent amusements, which make the sunshine brighter, the spirits more cheerful, and the heart purer and lighter, are sternly prohibited. Alas! for the 'genera- tion which shall grow up, and be " educated" (God save the mark!) as if it had no hearth And wo to the blasphemy which dares to offer, as service to Heaven, an arrogant contempt of Heaven's gifts, and claims a reward, like the self-tormentors of the middle ages, for its vain mortifications. But, in the time of the politician, of whom we write, these things were far different. We have already seen him at a "militia muster," and fain would we pause here, to display him page: 372-373[View Page 372-373] at-a barbecue. What memories, sweet, though sad, we might evoke of c the glorious fourth" in the olden time! tHow savory are even the dim recollections of the dripping viands, which hung, and fried, and crisped, and crackled, over the great fires, in the long deep trenches! Our nostrils grow young again with the thought- and the flavor of the feast floats on the breezes of memory, even " across the waste of years" which lie between! And the cool, luxuriant foliage of the grove, the verdant thickets, and among them pleasant vistas, little patches of green sward, covered with gay and laughing parties-even the rosy-cheelked girls, in their rustling gingham dresses, cast now and then a longing glance, toward the vet forbidden tables! how fresh and clear these images return upon the fancy! And then the waving banners, roaring -can- non, and the slow procession, moving all too solemnly for our impatient wishes I And final- ly, the dropping of the ropes, the simultaneous rush upon the open feast, and the rapid, per- haps ravenous consumption of the smoking viands, the jest, the laugh, all pleasant merri- ment, the exhilaration of the crowd, the music, and the occasion! What glories we heard from the orator, of victories achieved by our fathers! , . .. . . . . .. .. . . . . . , . . ;' THE POLITICIAN. 873 How we longed-O! brief, but glorious dream! to be one day spoken of like Washington! How wildly our hearts leaped in our boyish bosoms, as we listened to the accents of the solemn pledge and " declaration"-" opur lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor!"The whole year went lighter for that one day, and at each return, we went home happier, and better! How measureless we thought the politician's greatness then! This was his proper element -here he was at home; and, as he ordered and directed everything about him, flourishing his marshal's baton, clearing the way for the march of the procession-settling the "order of exer- cises," and reading the programme, in a stento- rian voice-there was, probably in his own esti- mation. and certainly in ours, no more impor- tant or honored individual in all that multi- tude! In such scenes as these, he was, indeed, with- out a rival; but there were others, also, in which he was quite as useful, if not so conspic- uous. On election days, for instance, when a free people assembled to exercise their "inesti- mable privilege," to choose their own rulers he was as busy as a witch in a tempest. His talents shone forth with especial and peculiar page: 374-375[View Page 374-375] 874 WESTERN CHARACTERS. lustre--for, with him, this was "'the day for which all other days were made." He mar- shalled his retainers, and led them to "the polls"--not as an inexperienced tactician would have done, with much waste of time,.in seek- ing every private voter, but after the manner of feudal times-by; calling upon his immedi- ate dependants, captains over tens and twenties, through whom he managed the more numerous masses. These were the "file-leaders," the "fugle-men," and "heads of messes;" and it was by a judicious management of' these, that he was able to acquire and retain an extensive influence. A The first article of his electioneering creed was, that every voter was controlled by some- body; and that the only way to sway the pri- vates was, to govern the officers: and, whether true or not, it must be admitted that his theory worked well in practice. He affected to enter- tain a high respect for those whom he described as " the boys from the heads of the hollows"- men who were n'ever-seen beyond the precincts of their own little " clearings," except upon the Fourth of July and election day, from one end of the year to the other. With these he dl:ank bad whiskey, made stale jokes, and affected a flattering condescension. With others, more THE POLITICIAN. 375 important 'or less easily imposed upon, he "whittled" sociably in the fence-corners, talked solemnly in conspicuous places, and always looked confidential and mysterious. But, however earnestly engaged, he never forgot the warfare in which he was chief com- batant. Like a general upon a field of battle, with his staff about him, he had sundly of his friends always near, to undertake any commis- sion, or convey any order, which he desired to have executed; and not a voter could come upon the ground, whom there was the remotest chance to influence, that his vigilance did not at once discover and seize upon, through some one of these lieutenants. He resorted to every conceivable art, to induce the freemen to vote properly; and, when he could not succeed in this, his next study was to prevent their voting at all. The consequence usually was, that he secured his own election, or that of his chosen candidate; for, in him, vigilance and shrewd- ness were happily combined. But, perhaps fortunately for the country, his ambition was generally limited to such small offices, as he was quite capable of filling. The highest point at which he aimed, was a seat in the state legislature; and on reaching that goal, page: 376-377[View Page 376-377] 376 WESTERN CHARACTERS. lie signalized his term, chiefly, if at all, in advo- cating laws about division fences, and trespas- sers upon timber-measures which he deemed desirable for his own immediate constituency, with very little care for the question of their general utility. Indeed, he never went to the capital, without having his pockets full of " pri- vate bills," for the gratification of his personal friends, or near neighbors; and if, after a reason- able term of service, he had succeeded in get- ting all these passed into laws, he came home, contented to "subside," and live the remainder of his days, upon the recollection of his legisla- tive honors. In the course of time, like all other earthly things, his class began to decay. The tide of immigration, or the increasing intelligence of the people, raised up men of larger views; and he speedily found himself outstripped in the race, and forgotten by his ancient retainers. Then-like his predecessor, the original. fron- tierman-disgusted with civilization and its refinements-he migrated to more congenial regions, and, in the scenes of his former tri- umphs, was heard of no more. THE POLITICIAN. 3" EPILOGUE. HERE we must pause. On the hither side of the period, represented by the early politician, and between that and the present, the space of time is much too nar- row, to contain any distinct development: those who superseded the primitive oracles, are yet in possession of the temple. We could not, therefore, pursue our plan further, without hazarding the charge of drawing from the life. It is remarkable, that anything like a fair or candid estimate of-for example-a public man's character, while he is yet favored with the people's suffrages, is very certain to be pro- nounced a caricature; and it is not less singu- lar, that, while the complaints of popular critics, in effect, affirm that there is fidelity enough in the picture to enable even obtuse minds to fit the copy to the original, they at the same time vehemently assert that the whole portrait is a libel. A just admeasurement of a demagogue's ability is thus always abated by the imputation of partisan falsehood or prejudice; and whoso- ever declines to join in the adulation of a tem- porary idol, may consider himself fortunate, if he escape with only the reproach of envy. page: 378-379[View Page 378-379] 3878 WESTERN CIIARACTERSS. Sketches of contelnporaneous character-if they seek recognition among the masses, must, therefore, not reduce the altitude which blind admiration has assigned, nor cut Sway the for- eign lace, nor tear the ornaments, with which excited parties have bedaubed their images of clay. And, yet, so prone are men to overrate their leaders, that no estimate of a prominent man. can be just, without impugning popular opinion, There is probably no other ground quite so perilous as politics, unless it be literature: and, as yet, the west is comparatively barren of those sensitive plants," literary men. BUit any at- tempt to delineate society, by portraiture of living characters, even Ithough the pictures were-purely ideal, would, upon the present plan, involve the suspicion (and perhaps the temnpta- tioh to deserve it), indicated above. Before venturing upon such uncertain paths, therefore, we must display a little generalship, and call a halt, if not a council of war. Whether we -are to march forward, will be determined by the "General Orders." THE END.
