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Destroyer: Have We Met — big melodies with a theatrical twist

publish 2022-05-02,browse 6
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i have often been on these parties, and never spent my time more to my satisfaction; which is more than you will be able to say of that spent in reading this scrawl from yours, &c. _philadelphia, may 7th, 1795._ dear sir, in answer so your last, respecting the aborigines of this continent, i am almost ashamed to inform you, i have scarcely any particulars on the subject worth troubling you with. ever since my arrival in america, i have made up my mind to take the first opportunity of going to the westward on a shooting party, for a month or two, among the indians; for which purpose i procured an introduction to the young _corn-planter_, son to a chief of the six nations, who is here for his education. he was no sooner informed of my intention, than he gave me a cordial invitation to attend him on his return in the fall; or, if i could not then make it convenient, at any other time; but the distance is so great, that, to confess the truth, i have never yet been able to raise the _necessary supplies_, and am likely to leave america without seeing a single wigwam. the indians have a fine natural genius for oratory, painting, and sculpture: i have a specimen of the latter cut with a knife on a piece of hickory, which is destitute neither of elegance of design, nor neatness of execution. but the most extraordinary trait in the character of these _red men_ is their _continence_. we have every year fourteen or fifteen of their chiefs in this city, to form treaties, and other public business. they are often attended with well-made young men in the prime of life, and yet i never heard but of _one_ instance of their engaging in a love-intrigue of _any kind_. they frequently tomahawk and scalp the most beautiful women, who are so unfortunate as to fall into their hands in time of war.each warrior cuts the number of scalps he has taken on his war club, and distinguishes the sex by certain marks. several of these clubs, and other indian trophies taken from famous chiefs in former wars, are deposited in the philadelphia museum. on one war club i counted _five_ fatal proofs of the savage who owned the weapon having butchered as many women! but whatever cruelties they practise on their female captives, they are never known to take the slightest liberty with them _bordering on indecency_. mary rowlandson, a fanatic, who was captured in 1765, has the following passage in her narrative: i have been in the midst of these roaring lions, and savage bears, that neither fear god, man, nor devil, by day and night, _alone_, and in company, _sleeping all sorts together_, and yet not one of them offered me the least abuse of unchastity, in word or action! charlevoix, in his account of the canadian indians, says, there is no example of their having taken the least liberty with any of the french women, even when their prisoners. in short, all accounts allow them this extraordinary male virtue, but differ whether it proceeds from education, or what the french call temperament. but as they do not look upon chastity as a necessary requisite in the character of the squaws _before_ marriage, these ladies are said by the white traders to be _less eminent_ for this virtue than their warriors. the works of f being little known in england, i send you some specimens of his writing on _indian_ subjects; and, however uncouth, his language may appear, you may rely on the truth and accuracy of his descriptions: the indian student; or, force of nature. rura mihi et rigui placeant in vallibus amnes; ilumina amem, sylvasque inglorius. virg. georg. 2d. v. 483. from susquehannas utmost springs, where savage tribes pursue their game, his blanket tied with yellow strings, a shepherd of the forest came. not long before, a wandering priest expressd his wish with visage sad ah, why, he cryd, in satans waste, ah, why detain so fine a lad? in yanky land there stands a town where learning may be purchasd low exchange his blanket for a gown, and let the lad to college go. from long debate the council rose, and viewing shalums tricks with joy, to _harvard hall_[1], oer wastes of snows, they sent the copper-colourd boy. [footnote 1: harvard college, at cambridge, near boston.] one generous chief a bow supplyd, this gave a shaft, and that a skin; the feathers, in vermilion dyd, himself did from a turkey win: thus dressd so gay, he took his way oer barren hills, alone, alone! his guide a star, he wanderd far, his pillow every night a stone. at last he came, with leg so lame, where learned men talk heathen greek, and hebrew lore is gabbled oer, to please the muses, twice a week. a while he writ, a while he read, a while he learnd the grammar rules. an indian savage, so well bred, great credit promisd to their schools. some thought, he would in law excel, some said, in physic he would shine; and one, that knew him passing well, beheld in him a sound divine. but those of more discerning eye, een then could _other_ prospects show, and saw him lay his virgil by, to wander with his dearer _bow_. the tedious hours of study spent, the heavy-moulded lecture done, he to the woods a hunting went, but sighd to see the setting sun. no mystic wonders fird his mind; he sought to gain no learnd degree, but only sense enough to find the _squirrel in the hollow tree_. the shady bank, the purling stream, the woody wild his heart possessd; the dewy lawn his morning dream _in fancys gayest colours dressd._ and why, he cried, did i forsake my native wood for gloomy walls? the silver stream, the limpid lake, for musty books and college halls? a little could my wants supply can wealth and honour give me more? or, will the sylvan god deny the humble treat he gave before? let seraphs reach the bright abode, and heavns sublimest mansions see: i only bow to natures god _the land of shades_, will do for _me_. these dreadful secrets of the sky alarm my soul with chilling fear: do planets in their orbits fly? and is the earth, indeed, a sphere? let planets still their aim pursue, and comets round creation run in him my faithful friend i view, the image of my godthe sun. where natures ancient forests grow, and mingled laurel never fades, my heart is fixd; and i must go to die among my native shades. he spoke,and to the western springs (his gown discharged, his money spent) his blanket tied with yellow strings, the shepherd of the forest went. returning to the rural reign, the indians welcomd him with joy; the council took him home again, and blessd the copper-coloured boy. our author, brings his hero again upon the stage, under the title of the splenetic indian. to the best of my recollection, it was about the middle of the month of august; we were sitting on a green bank by the brook side; the fox grapes were not yet come to maturity; but we were anticipating the pleasure we should soon experience in eating some fine clusters, that at this instant hung over our heads in the tall shade of a beech tree; when, upon a sudden clamour raised by some young fellows, who were advancing rapidly towards us, the learned indian sachem tomo-cheeki, who at this time happened to be my friend and companion, seized me by the hand, and intimated a strong desire, that i should accompany him to his _wigwam_, situate at many miles distance in the wilderness. a request so unusual, and at such a sultry season of the year (it being now the height of the dog days), and to all appearance occasioned by so trifling a circumstance as the approach of a few noisy bacchanalians, could not but give me some surprise. i nevertheless accepted his offer, and we then walked on together westward, without saying a word, though not forgetting to kindle our pipes afresh at the first house we came to. we had no sooner entered the forest, than i began to be convinced, that all things around us were precisely such as nature had finished them; the trees were straight and lofty, and appeared as if they had never been obliged to art in their progress to maturity; the streams of water were winding and irregular, and not odiously drawn into a right line by the spade of the ditcher. the soil had never submitted to the ploughshare, and the air that circulated through this domain of nature was replete with that balmy fragrance, which was breathed into the lungs of the long-lived race of men, that flourished in the first ages of the world. at last we approached the wigwam, as i discovered by the barking of a yellow dog, who ran out to meet us. the building seemed to be composed of rough materials, and at most was not more than eight feet in height, with a hole in the centre of the roof, to afford a free passage to the smoke from within. it was situate in a thicket of lofty trees, on the side of a stream of clear water, at a considerable distance from the haunts of civilized men

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