I've been spending
most of my time working on my book, which is more about family history than
Chickasaw History, so I haven't had as much time to spend on this blog. Sorry.
In a way though I enjoy
the writing I do for the blog more than my book because I can pick out a
subject and go into detail about it. With the book, I have to refrain from
going into too much detail so as not to interrupt the flow of the story.
Anyway for now I'd like to share something I read recently in a book, History of the Choctaw, Chickasaw and
Natchez Indians by H. B. Cushman.
Cushman's father
and mother were missionaries to the Choctaws and the Chickasaws during the 1820's
in Mississippi. He was born in the Choctaw homeland, and grew up among the Indians.
Cushman's parents' missionary activities were ended by the Removal, but he
maintained contact with some of the tribal members who managed to stay in
Mississippi and when he grew to manhood he moved to Texas and lived across the
border from the Chickasaw and Choctaw Nations.
Cushman's book is
refreshing because unlike many writers of the time he really admired his
Indian friends, even to the point of idealizing them, a fact that the editor of
the book apologizes for. Frankly, I think that Cushman's praise for the Indians
hardly makes up for the many other writers of that time as well as our own, who
criticize and patronize them.
Cushman ends his
book with a quotation from George Catlin, who possessed a kindred spirit. I was
not very impressed with Catlin as an artist when I first saw his work. Some of
it seems almost amateurish. It was only later that I learned that Catlin was
primarily interested, not in creating great art, but in documenting the
culture, history and customs of the American Indian. He was actually an
attorney by training who gave up a comfortable life to travel among the
Indians, writing, sketching and painting.
Catlin endured
great hardships in his quest to learn about the Indians. One example is a trip
he made with General Henry Leavenworth in 1832 into the western plains
of Indian Territory. The expedition was poorly planned, an arrogant and
foolhardy attempt by Leavenworth to impress the Indians with the might of the
U. S. Army. In the end the Indians were more impressed by the Army's
incompetence. An Indian hunting party finally took pity on the soldiers and led
them to a large settlement of Wichitas where the soldiers were given food and
shelter until they could make their way back to Fort Gibson.
Many in the party, including General Leavenworth, lost their
lives during the expedition of 1832. The following is a quotation from Catlin's
journal entered during the trip back to the fort:
A...
sighs and groaning are heard in all directions... From day to day we have
dragged along, exposed to the hot and burning rays of the sun, without a cloud
to relieve its intensity or a bush to shade us, or anything to cast a shadow
except the bodies of our horses. The grass, for a great part of the way, was
very much dried up, scarcely affording a bite for our horses: and sometimes for
the distance of many miles, the only water we could find, was in stagnant
pools, lying on the highest ground, in which the buffaloes have been lying and
wallowing, like hogs in a mud-puddle. We frequently came to these dirty lavers,
from which we drove the herds of buffaloes, and into which our poor and almost
dying horses, irresistibly ran and plunged their noses, sucking up the dirty
and poisonous draft, until, in some instances, they fell dead in their tracks -
the men also sprang from their horses, and ladled up and drank to almost fatal
excess, the disgusting and tepid draft, and with it filled their canteens,
which were slung to their sides, and from which they were sucking the bilious
contents during day.@ (Pioneer Days, by Grant Foreman, P 148)
After
their return to Ft Gibson, Catlin wrote: ASince the
very day of our start into that country, the men have been continually falling
sick, and on their return, of those who are alive there are not well ones
enough to take care of the sick. Many are yet left out upon the prairies, and
of those that have been brought in and quartered in the hospital, with the
soldiers of the infantry regiment stationed here, four or five are buried daily@
(Pioneer Days, by Grant Foreman, P 151).
Catlin was not deterred by this horrendous experience. He continued travelling across
the country eventually visiting over fifty different Indian tribes. Afterwards he lectured
extensively about the American Indian throughout the United States and Europe,
illustrating his talks with sketches and paintings. He also recorded his
observations in a two volume work entitled Manners
, Customs and Condition of the North American Indian, illustrated by 300
engravings. About 600 of Catlin's paintings and 700 of his sketches have been
preserved in the Smithsonian Museum.
Here is George
Catlin's characterization of the American Indian as quoted by H. B. Cushman:
Have I any apology to make for loving the
Indians?
The Indians have always loved me, and why
should I not love the Indians?
I love the people who have always made me
welcome to the best they had.
I love the people who are honest without
law, who have no jails and no poor houses.
I love the people who keep the commandments
without ever having read them or heard them preached from the pulpit.
I love a people who never swear; who never
take the name of God in vain.
I love a people who love their neighbors as
themselves.
I love a people who worship God without a
Bible, for I believe that God loves them too.
I love a people whose religion is all the
same, and who are free from religious rows.
I love a people who have never raised a hand
against me or stolen my property, where there was no law to punish for either.
I love a people who never have fought a
battle with white men except on their own ground.
I love and don't fear mankind where God has
made and left them, for they are children.
I love people who live and keep what is
their own without locks and keys.
I love all people who do the best they can,
and, Oh! How I love a people who don't live for the love of money.
History of the Choctaw, Chickasaw and
Natchez Indians, by H. B. Cushman. P 476.
In 1838, hearing of
the poor health of the Seminole Chief Osceola, George Catlin rushed to
Florida where the great man was near death and languishing in prison. Osceola
arose from his bed, donned his ceremonial dress, and posed as Catlin painted this
last portrait of him for posterity. See blog post
of Oct 26, 2010, Removal: Seminoles,
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