“Father, we are glad to see you and to take your hand; we know that you are uncle to our great mother the Queen, and we are happy to see you. (‘How, how, how!’) We thank the Great Spirit for this; he has kept us in good health and safe over the great salt lake, and His eye is on us now, we know, or we should not see our great father this day. We are poor, ignorant children, and yet we hope the Queen, your niece, will be willing to see us, when our hearts will be happy. (‘How, how, how!’)
“Father, my years, you see, are nearly spent. I have carried my weapons and hunted for your enemies many years, and my warriors here have many wounds they received in fighting for the Sag-a-noshes. (‘How, how, how!’)
“I have no more words to say at present. (‘How, how, how!’)”
His Royal Highness graciously received the old Chief’s speech, and then examined the wounds pointed out on the body of the War Chief; after which he replied to the old man—
“My friends, I meet you here to-day with great pleasure, and I thank the Great Spirit also, that He has guarded you and kept you safe over the ocean. I hope your visit to England may be pleasant and profitable to you, and that you may all get back safe to your children. (‘How, how, how!’)
“My friends, I will make known your wishes to the Queen, and I think you will see her. (‘How, how, how!’)”
The Duke most kindly took leave of them, presenting to the old chief ten sovereigns, which he divided equally among the number, and sent them on the following day ten pounds of the choicest smoking tobacco. On leaving the Rooms he also thanked me for the treat I had afforded him, and said, “Oh, the good fellows! yes, the Queen will see them.”
The announcement of the arrival of the Ojibbeways which had been made in the public papers, and the notice also of their interview with the Duke of Cambridge, were now gaining them a notoriety with the public; and amongst my personal friends, was announcing that I had returned to London, which altogether brought me a flood of applicants for private interviews with them. We had resolved not to make any exhibition of their modes to the public, until after they had seen the Queen, and the month that we remained idle, and waiting for her Majesty’s command, was rendered tedious and troublesome from the above causes. We were daily and hourly importuned for permissions to see them, which were in part granted, until it became quite necessary that I should absent myself from them, leaving instructions at the door that no communication could be had with them at present. Mr. Rankin during this time stayed constantly with them, and I occasionally spent an evening of gossip and smoked a pipe with them. We made use of most of the time in endeavouring to show them as much of the great city as possible, driving them out in a bus during the day, and several times taking them into the country to spend a day running over the fields for the benefit of their health.
After one of their first drives about the City, when they had been passed through Regent Street, the Strand, Cheapside, Oxford Street and Holborn, I spent the evening in a talk with them in their rooms, and was exceedingly amused with the shrewdness of their remarks upon what they had seen. They had considered the “prairies still on fire,” from the quantity of smoke they met; one of the women had undertaken to count the number of carriages they passed, but was obliged to give it up; “saw a great many fine houses, but nobody in the windows: saw many men with a large board on the back, and another on the breast, walking in the street—supposed it was some kind of punishment; saw men carrying bags of coal, their hats on wrong side before; saw fine ladies and gentlemen riding in the middle of the streets in carriages, but a great many poor and ragged people on the sides of the roads; saw a great many men and women drinking in shops where they saw great barrels and hogsheads; saw several drunk in the streets. They had passed two Indians in the street with brooms, sweeping away the mud; they saw them hold out their hands to people going by, as if they were begging for money: they saw many other poor people begging, some with brooms in their hands and others with little babies in their arms, who looked as if they were hungry for food to eat.” They had much to say about the two Indians they had passed. “It could not be that white people would dress and paint themselves like Indians in order to beg money, and they could not see how Indians would consent to stand in the streets and sweep the mud away in order to beg for money.” They appealed to me to know whether they were really Indians, and I said “Yes; they are natives from the East Indies, called Lascars. They are naturally, most probably like yourselves, too proud to work or to beg; but they have been left by some cruel fate, to earn their living in the streets of London, or to starve to death, and, poor fellows, they have preferred begging to starvation.” The Indians seemed much affected by the degradation that these poor fellows were driven to, and resolved that they would carry some money with them when they went out, to throw to them.
I had about this time several communications from the Reverend Mr. S——, who was desirous, if possible, to have an interview with the Indians for the purpose of learning from them what notions they had of religion, if any; and to endeavour to open their minds to a knowledge of the Christian religion, which it was the wish of himself and many others of his friends to teach to them for their eternal welfare. I at once wrote to those reverend gentlemen and assured them that their kind endeavours would be aided in every possible way by Mr. Rankin and myself; and I appointed an hour at once, when they could converse with the Indians on the subject. Their visit was made at the hour appointed, and the conversation was held in my presence. The reverend gentlemen most kindly and humanely greeted the Indians on their safe arrival in this country, where they were glad to meet them as brothers. They called upon them not in any way to interfere with their amusements or objects for which they had come to England, but to wish them all success, and at the same time to learn from them whether as poor children of the forests they had been kept in the dark, and out of the light of the true Christian religion, which it was their desire to make known to their minds. The old chief had lit his pipe in the meantime, and having taken a few moments to smoke it out, after the reverend gentleman had stopped, said (without rising up to speak) that he was much pleased to see them, and shake hands with them, for he knew their views were good and friendly. He said that they had heard something about the white man’s religion in the wilderness where he lived, but they had thought it too difficult for them to understand. He said he was much obliged to them for offering to explain it at this time, but that they would take a little time to think of it first; and as they had not yet seen the Queen, they thought it best to do no more about it at present.
Poor fellows, they were daily asking for reports from the Palace, becoming impatient for the permission to see her Majesty. They had waited so long that they were beginning to think that their application had failed, and they were becoming dispirited and desponding.
I said to them one morning, “Now, my good fellows, don’t despair—you have not tried what you can do yourselves yet; in your own country, if you wish it to rain, you have Rain-makers who can make it rain; if you wish it to stop raining, you have Rain-stoppers, who cook up a grand medicine feast and cause it to stop raining. If buffalos are scarce, your medicine-men can make them come: why not ‘put on the Big Kettle,’ and see what you can do in the present dilemma?—You have your Medicine-man with you, and your Medicine-drum and your Shi-she-quoi (mystery rattle); you are all prepared; go to work—you will certainly do no harm, and I fully believe you will bring it about.”
As I was leaving the room their interpreter overtook me, and said that the medicine man wanted the money to buy five fat ducks—that they had resolved on having a medicine feast that afternoon, and that they would expect me to be of the party to partake of it.
I came in at the hour appointed, and found them all with their faces painted black on one side and red on the other (their mode of ornamenting when they supplicate the Great or other Spirit for any gift or favour), and prepared to take their seats at the feast, which was then smoking, on the floor in the adjoining room. Buffalo robes were spread upon the floor, on which we were seated, when the following dialogue took place between their kind (and now no longer terrified) landlady and the interpreter Cadotte:—“Why,” said she (as she was completing the last arrangement for our feast upon the floor), “you have left no room for the women, poor things.” “Women!” said Cadotte, “why, do you suppose that women can eat at a medicine feast?” “Why not?” said the landlady, “are they not as good as the men? They are a nice set of women, and that little girl is a dear little creature. I cooked the ducks as much for them as I did for you, and I think it would be cruel not to invite them to eat with you; you are no better now than you were this morning; they ate with you then. If I had known this, I would have kept one of the ducks for them.” “Devil a bit!” said Cadotte, “do you know what medicine is?” “No, I don’t suppose I do; but there are the three women all crying now in the other room, poor creatures.” “And there they are obliged to cry while we are in a medicine feast, or we have no luck.” “Oh, dear me, what a strange set of beings!” said the old lady, as she returned to the kitchen, “I won’t interfere with them; they must take their own way.”
With closed doors we went through all the peculiar solemnities of this feast; and, having devoured all the ducks, leaving “none for the poor women,” the medicine man took about a quarter of an hour to recite a sort of prayer or thanks to the Great Spirit, which, from the extreme rapidity with which he repeated it, I supposed to be some established form peculiar to such occasions. After this, and while the last pipe was passing around, my man Daniel (in pursuance of my previous instructions) entered the room, and delivered to me a large letter, which he said he thought was from Mr. Murray, as it had the household stamp upon it. The most impatient excitement prevailed until I broke the seal and read as follows:—
“Buckingham Palace, Thursday morning.
“Dear Sir,—I have great pleasure in informing you that Her Majesty has expressed a desire to see the party of Ojibbeway Indians; and has appointed Thursday next, at two o’clock, as the hour when she will receive you with the party, in the Waterloo Gallery, Windsor Castle. I pray that you will be punctual at the hour, and I will meet you at the threshold, rendering all the facilities that may be in my power.
“Yours, sincerely,
“C. A. Murray,
“Master of H. M. Household.
“To Geo. Catlin, Esq.”
The reader can readily imagine what was the pleasure of these poor people when they heard this letter read; but it would be difficult to know what were their feelings of surprise, that the efficacy of their medicine should have brought it in at that opportune moment. The reader will also suppose, what their superstition prevented them from ever imagining, that this letter was in my pocket several hours before the ducks were bought, and therefore cost me about twenty shillings.
A pipe was here lit by the old chief, and passed around, and smoked to the kind Spirit they had successfully invoked, and with it all the anxieties of this day passed away.
Preparations for visiting the Queen—Amusing interview with Sykes, the porter—Mistaken by the old Chief for Prince Albert—Meet the Hon. Mr. Murray—The waiting-room—The Author conducts the party before Her Majesty and the Prince in the Waterloo Gallery—Their reception—Introductions and conversations—Indians give the war-dance—A smoke—The old Chief’s speech to the Queen—Pipe-dance—Her Majesty and the Prince retire—Indians at a feast in the waiting-room—Drinking the Queen’s health in Champagne—Indians call it “Chickabobboo”—Story of Chickabobboo, and great amusement—Indians return to London—Evening-gossip about the Queen and her Chickabobboo—First evening of the Indians in Egyptian Hall—Great excitement—Alarm—Tremendous applause—Old Chief’s speech—Hon. Mr. Murray’s letter to the old Chief, enclosing £20 from the Queen and other presents—Speech of the War-chief—Pipe-dance—Shaking hands—Curious questions by the audience—Ale allowed to the Indians at dinner and after supper—Their rejoicing—They call it Chickabobboo.
A new chapter commenced here with the Indians, as it commences with my book. All “omnibus drives” were postponed for the present; all communications with the world entirely interdicted; and all was bustle and preparation for the grand event which was to “cap the climax” of their highest ambition—the point to which they had looked ever since they had started, and beyond which, it is not probable, their contemplations had as yet visibly painted anything.
Colours, and ribbons, and beads, of the richest hues, were called for, and procured from various parts of the city; and both night and day, all, men and women, were constantly engaged in adding brilliancy and richness of colour to their costumes.
The old chief was painting the stem of his pipe of peace (or calumet) sky-blue, emblematical of the feelings they carried in their breasts; and decorating it also with blue and red ribbons, as a suitable gift to royalty. The little girl, Nib-nab-e-qua, was crying, as she embroidered with red and white porcupine-quills, fearing that her new mocassins would not look so brilliant as she had sometimes made them. Her mother was arranging black mourning plumes in the cradle in which her infant had died, and which, by the custom of the country, she was obliged yet to carry on her back. The War-chief was repainting his shield, and arranging his scalps on a little hoop, to give proper effect to the scalp-dance. The Medicine-man was preparing his wa-be-no drum. Gish-ee-gosh-ee-gee was stringing beads with his wife; and Sah-mah was brightening his tomahawk and his scalping-knife for a glittering effect in the war-dance. Cadotte, during this time, was parading before the mirror, examining, arranging, and rearranging the ostrich-plumes in his cap, and the fit of a laced frock he had just had made; and (I had almost forgotten myself) I was anxiously awaiting the arrival of a new coat I had ordered at my tailor’s for the occasion.
On the morning appointed, all were satisfactorily prepared, and, being seated in an omnibus posted with four horses, we were on our way, and soon after that arrived at the gates of Windsor Castle. Descending from the carriage, the poor old chief, whose eyes were getting a little dim with age, was completely nonplused at beholding the magnificent figure (in scarlet and gold lace and powdered wig) of (his apparent Majesty) Sykes, the well-known porter of the palace, who had him by the elbow, and was conducting him and his heavy paraphernalia towards the door. The good old chief turned round and gave him his hand, not knowing as yet what to say, as they had none of them contemplated anything so brilliant and dazzling, short of Majesty itself. He was at this moment, however, saved from committing himself or bestowing his pipe of peace by the sudden approach of several others of the household in liveries equally splendid, who conducted us into the hall, at which moment we met our friend the Honourable Mr. Murray, whom we followed to the waiting-room adjoining to the Waterloo Gallery, in which our reception was to take place. Here we were seated, and awaited the anxious moment when it was to be announced that her Majesty was ready to see us.
The Indians were here parading before the large and splendid mirrors and adjusting their feathers and ornaments, and suggesting many surmises about the long table which was dressed out in the room where we were, and which they supposed was the place where the Queen and all her officers about her took their dinners. This, as the sequel will show, was a very great error, as it was preparing for another and entirely different purpose.
After waiting half an hour or so, an officer in full dress came into the room and informed us that the Queen was in the adjoining room, and ready to receive us, and showed us the way. There was a moment of jingling and rattling of trinkets as the Indians were throwing on their robes and gathering up their weapons; and when they responded to my question “if they were all ready?”—by their “how! how! how!” I led the way, and they followed into the Waterloo Gallery. They were now all at full length before her Majesty and the Prince, who most graciously received them. (Plate No. 5.) The Queen arose from a sofa in the middle of the room, having her Majesty the Queen Dowager and H. R. H. the Duchess of Kent by her side; and advancing towards the Indians, was joined by H. R. H. Prince Albert and the Hon. Mr. Murray. Her Majesty desired that the interpreter and myself should advance nearer to her, and at her request I introduced each individually by their appropriate names, explaining their costumes, weapons, &c. Her Majesty beckoned the little girl up to her, and held her some time by both hands, evidently much pleased with her appearance, and also the woman with the cradle on her back, in whom she seemed to take much interest. She asked many questions, as well as the Prince, relative to their costumes, modes, &c., and they then took their seats on the sofa to witness the dances which the Indians had come prepared to give.
The Indians were at this time seated in a circle on the floor, when the Medicine-man gradually commenced tapping on his drum and singing in a low tone. In a few moments the house jarred with the leap of the War-chief, who was upon his feet, and after him all the party, in the din of the war-dance. (Plate No. 6.)
This dance finished, they were again seated on the floor, when the old chief, seventy-five years of age, having lighted his pipe and passed it around, arose and made the following address to her Majesty:—[7]
“Great Mother—I have been very sorrowful since I left my home, but the Great Spirit has brought us all safe over the great waters, and my heart will now be glad that we can see your face. We are now happy.
“These are all the words I have to say. My words are few, for I am not very well to-day. The other chief will tell you what I intended to say.”
The War-chief then rose, and in a very energetic manner made the following speech, which was also literally interpreted to her Majesty:—
“Great Mother—The Great Spirit has been kind to us, your children, in protecting us on our long journey here. And we are now happy that we are allowed to see your face. It makes our hearts glad to see the faces of so many Saganoshes (English) in this country, and all wearing such pleasant looks. We think the people here must be very happy.
“Mother—We have been often told that there was a great fire in this country—that its light shone across the great water; and we see now where this great light arises. We believe that it shines from this great wigwam to all the world.
“Mother—We have seen many strange things since we came to this country. We see that your wigwams are large, and the light that is in them is bright. Our wigwams are small, and our light is not strong. We are not rich, but yet we have plenty of food to eat.
“Mother—Myself and my friends here are your friends—your children. We have used our weapons against your enemies. And for many years we have received liberal presents from this country, which have made us quite happy and comfortable in our wigwams.
“Mother—The chief who has just spoken, and myself, have fought and bled by the side of the greatest warrior who ever lived—Tecumseh.
“Mother—Our hearts are glad at what we have this day seen—that we have been allowed to see your face. And when we get home our words will be listened to in the councils of our nation.
“This is all I have to say.”
After his speech the War-chief resumed his seat upon the floor; and as her Majesty could not be supposed to reply to his speech, she called upon the Prince, who thanked them for the amusement they had afforded her Majesty, who felt a deep interest in their welfare, and thankful to the old chief for the noble and religious sentiments expressed in his remarks.
After this the Indians rose and gave their favourite, the Pipe Dance, which seemed to afford much amusement to the Royal party. The Queen and the Prince then graciously bowed and took leave, thanking them, through the interpreter, for the amusement they had afforded them. The Indians at the same moment shouldered their robes and retired, sounding their war-whoop to the amusement of the servants of the household, who had assembled to the amount of some hundreds in the galleries of the hall.
They were now in the waiting-room again, where, to their surprise (and no little satisfaction), they found that the table they had seen so splendidly arranged was intended for their own entertainment, and was now ready for the “set-to.” Mr. Murray announced it as ready, and we all went to work. Mr. Rankin, who had been seated in the gallery during the presentation, having joined the party, had now taken his seat with them at the table. With his usual kindness, Mr. Murray insisted on carving the roast-beef and helping them around, and next in drinking the Queen’s health, which is customary at all public dinners. For this the first bottle of champagne was opened; and when the cork flew and the wine was pouring into glasses, the Indians pronounced the word “Chick-a-bob-boo!” and had a great laugh. A foaming glass of it was set before each Indian; and when it was proposed to drink to Her Majesty’s health, they all refused. I explained to Mr. Murray the promise they were under to drink no spirituous liquor while in the kingdom. Mr. Murray applauded their noble resolution, but said at the same time that this was not spirituous liquor—it was a light wine, and could not hurt them; and it would be the only time they could ever drink to Her Majesty so properly, and Her Majesty’s health could not be refused by Her Majesty’s subjects. When again urged they still refused, saying “We no drink—can’t drink.” They seemed however to be referring it to me, as all eyes were alternately upon me and upon their glasses, when I said to them—“Yes, my good fellows, drink; it will not hurt you. The promise you have made to Mr. Rankin and myself will not be broken—it did not contemplate a case like this, where it is necessary to drink the Queen’s health. And again, this is champagne, and not spirituous liquor, which you have solemnly promised to avoid.”—“How! how! how!” they all responded, and with great delight all joined in “health to the Queen!” And as each glass was emptied to the bottom, they smacked their lips, again pronouncing the word “Chick-a-bob-boo! Chick-a-bob-boo!” with a roar of laughter among themselves.
Mr. Murray and I becoming anxious to know the meaning of chick-a-bob-boo, it was agreed that the War-chief (who had a dry but amusing way of relating an anecdote) should give us the etymology of the word chick-a-bob-boo, which they said was manufactured but a few years since in their country. The old Boy-chief, who was not a stranger to chick-a-bob-boo, nor to good jokes, said that the “War-chief couldn’t tell a story well unless his lips were kept moist;” and he proposed that we should drink Mr. Murray’s health before he commenced. So the champagne was poured again, and, the Hon. Mr. Murray’s health being drank, the War-chief proceeded by saying—that “Only a few years since, when the white men were bringing so much rum and whiskey into the little village where he lives, that it was making them all sick, and killing a great many, the chiefs decided in council that they would tomahawk every keg of whiskey the white men should bring in; and it had the effect of keeping them away, and their people, who had been drunk and sick, were getting well.
“Not long after that,” continued he, “a little old man with red hair, who used to bring us bags of apples, got in the way of bringing in one end of his bag a great many bottles filled with something that looked much like whiskey, but which, when we smelled it, and tasted it, we found was not fire-water, and it was much liked by the chiefs and all; for they found, he said, it was good, and would not make Indians drunk. He sold much of this to the Indians, and came very often; and when he had carried it a great way on his horse, and in the sun, it sometimes became very impatient to get out of the bottles; and it was very amusing to see the little old man turn a crooked wire into the bottle to pull out the stopper, when one was holding a cup ready to catch it. As he would twist the wire in, it would go chee—e—; and when he poured it out, it would say, pop-poo, pop-poo.[8] This amused the women and children very much, and they called it at first chee-pop-poo, and since, chick-a-bob-boo. And this the old man with red hair told us at last was nothing but the juice of apples, though we found it very good; and yet it has made some very drunk.”
This story of the War-chief amused Mr. Murray very much, and he ordered one of the waiters to “twist the crooked wire” into the neck of another bottle or two of the chick-a-bob-boo and “pull out the little stoppers,” for he was going to propose that we all drink to the health of Prince Albert, who could never be neglected when her Majesty’s health was drunk. This was done with enthusiasm; and the old chief soon proposed to drink Mr. Rankin’s health, and my health, which were attended to; and he at length thought of the fat porter in scarlet and gold lace, whom he had passed at the door, and who at this moment, with several others in gold lace and powdered hair, were gathering around the table to take a glass or two of chick-a-bob-boo with them. This happened at a good time, and Mr. Rankin commenced the anecdote of the old chief having mistaken the porter Sykes for Prince Albert just as Mr. Murray and I withdrew from the room to proceed to town.
I visited the Indians in their rooms that evening, and found them in good spirits, having been well pleased by her Majesty’s kind reception, and also delighted with the chick-a-bob-boo, and the liberal construction that had been put upon their sacred engagement “not to drink spirituous liquors.” Mr. Rankin gave me an amusing account of the old chief’s second interview with the porter Sykes, and their manner of taking leave when they were parting to meet no more. “Their pipes,” he said, “were lit when they took their omnibus to return, and their joyful songs and choruses made it a travelling music-box the whole way to town.”
I had come upon them at the moment when they were taking their coffee—a habit they had got into as one of the last things before going to bed. When they finished their coffee they lit the pipe, and there were many comments from different parts of the room upon what they had seen during the day. The Queen was of course the engrossing theme for their thoughts and their remarks; and though so well pleased with her kindness to them, they were evidently disappointed in her personal appearance and dress. Her Majesty was attired in a simple and unadorned dress of black, and wore apparently no ornaments whatever at the time of their presentation, affording the poor fellows nothing either in her stature or costume to answer to the fancied figure of majesty which they had naturally formed in their minds, and were convinced they were going to see. They had, on first entering the room, taken the Duchess of Kent for the Queen, and said they were not apprised of their error until they heard me address the Queen as “Her Majesty.”
They were advancing many curious ideas (over the pipe) as to the government of the greatest and richest country in the world being in the hands of a woman, and she no larger than many of the Indian girls at the age of twelve or thirteen years. I explained to them the manner in which she was entitled to the crown, and also how little a king or queen has actually to do in the government of such a country; that it is chiefly done by her ministers, who are always about her, and men of the greatest talents, and able to advise her. And the old chief, who had been listening attentively to me, as he was puffing away at his pipe, said, he was inclined to think it was the best thing for the country. “I am not sure,” said he, “but it is the safest way; for if this country had a king instead of a queen, he might be ambitious as a great warrior, and lead the country into war with other nations: now, under her government there is peace, and the country is happy.”
Many jokes were passed upon the old chief for having mistaken the porter Sykes for Prince Albert, and for having brought his pipe of peace back, having been afraid to present it. They had many remarks to make also upon the little girl whom her Majesty took by the hand; they told her she turned pale, and they were afraid she would grow up a white woman. They now, for the first time, thought of the Queen’s little children, and wondered they had not seen them: they thought they ought, at least, to have seen the Prince of Wales. Daniel, they said, had long since told them how old he was, and that he was to be the next king of England. He had also read to them his long names, which had pleased them very much, which they never could recollect, but would have written down.
The conversation again, and for some time, ran upon the deliciousness of her Majesty’s chickabobboo, and also upon the presents which they had imagined would have been made to them, and which I assured them they might feel quite easy about, as they would come in due time according to the custom. So were they whiling away the evening of this memorable day, and I left them.
The grand point having been made, their visit to the Queen, the Indians seemed in good spirits to meet the greetings of the public, amongst whom the daily paragraphs in the papers, and their occasional drives through the streets, had excited the most intense curiosity. The place for their operations was prepared for them in the Egyptian Hall; and in the midst of my Indian collection, as in Manchester, a platform was erected on which their dances and other amusements were to be given.
Having been without any exciting occupation for more than a month, in daily anticipation of their visit to the Queen, the Indians had become, as well as the public, impatient for the opening of their exhibition, which seemed requisite for their amusement as well as necessary for their accustomed bodily exercise.
Their first evening’s amusements being announced, the large room of the Egyptian Hall was filled at an early hour, and the Indians received with a roar of applause as they entered and advanced upon the platform. I came on by their side, and after they had seated themselves upon the platform, entered upon my duty, that of explaining to the audience who these people were, whence they came, and what were their objects in visiting this country. I also introduced each one personally by his name, to the audience, and briefly described their costumes, weapons, &c., and they were then left to commence as they chose, with their dances and other amusements. Indian looks and Indian costumes, &c., were supposed to have been pretty well understood before this, by most of the audience, who had studied them at their leisure in my rooms on former occasions; but Indian dances and Indian yells, and the war-whoop, had been from necessity postponed and unappreciated until the present moment, when the sudden yell and scream of the whole party (as they sprang upon their feet) announced the war-dance as having commenced. The drum was beating, rattles were shaking, war-clubs and tomahawks and spears were brandishing over their heads, and all their voices were shouting (in time with the beat of the drum and the stamps of their feet) the frightful war-song!
With the exception of some two or three women (whose nerves were not quite firm enough for these excitements, and who screamed quite as loud as the Indians did, as they were making a rush for the door) the audience stood amazed and delighted with the wildness and newness of the scene that was passing before them; and, at the close of the dance, united in a round of applause, which seemed to please the Indians as much as seeing the Queen.
Like all actors, they were vain of their appearance, and proud of applause, and (rather luckily for them, and unlike the painful excitements that fall to the lot of most actors’ lives) they were sure of the applause which sympathy brings, and exempt from that censure which often falls heavily upon those whose acting the audience is able to criticise.
According to their custom, after the war-dance was finished, the Indians seated themselves upon the platform and lit their long pipe, which they were almost constantly smoking. This pipe was filled with their own native tobacco (k’nick-k’neck), and passed around from one to the other for a few whiffs, according to the usage of all the American tribes. I took this opportunity of explaining to the audience the meaning of the war-dance, the war-whoop, &c., and whilst I was up, was so overwhelmed with questions (all of which I felt disposed to answer) that I found it exceedingly difficult to sit down again. These questions were put for the purpose of gaining information which it was my wish to give; and having patiently answered a number of them, I stated to the audience that I believed the explanations I should throw out in the course of the evening in my own way, would answer nearly every question that they would be disposed to put, and I begged they would allow me as much time and opportunity to give them as possible. This was responded to by acclamation all around the room, and the exhibition proceeded by the Indians wishing me to announce that they were to give the wa-be-no (or mystery) dance. This eccentric and droll dance caused much merriment among the audience, and gained them hearty applause again; after which, they being seated as usual, with the pipe passing around, I proceeded with my explanation, which done, I was requested by the interpreter to announce that the old chief had something which he wished to say to the audience, and was going to make a speech. There was a great expression of satisfaction at this, evinced among the crowd, which seemed to give fire to the eye, and youth to the visage of the old man as he rose and said,—
“My friends—It makes our hearts glad when we hear your feet stamp upon the floor, for we know then that you are pleased, and not angry.” (Great applause.)
The old man then straightened himself up in the attitude of an orator, and, throwing his buffalo robe over his shoulder, and extending his right arm over the heads of his audience, he proceeded:—
“My friends and brothers—These young men and women and myself have come a great way to see you, and to see our Great Mother the Queen. The Great Spirit has been kind to us, for we are all well, and we have seen her face. (‘How, how, how!’)
“My friends—We know that the Saganoshes in our country all come from this place; they are our friends there, and we think they will not be our enemies here. (‘How, how, how!’ and immense applause, with ‘Hear, hear, hear,’ from the audience.)
“My friends—You see I am old, and my words are few; some of my younger men may talk longer than I can. I hope our noise is not too great. (‘No, no,’ from every part of the room: ‘The more noise the better, my good fellows.’)
“Brothers—My young men will finish their dances in a little while, when we will be glad to give you our hands.” (“How, how, how!” great applause, and “Hear, hear.”)
The venerable old man then resumed his seat; and at that moment, as the pipe was preparing, Daniel was making his way through the crowd, with one hand raised above the heads of the audience, conveying a large square letter, which he was endeavouring to hand to me. On opening the letter and reading, I found it was from the Honourable Mr. Murray, and, with permission of the audience, I read thus:—
“Dear Sir,—I have great pleasure to inform you that I am instructed by Her Majesty to transmit to you the enclosed 20l. note to be given to the Ojibbeway chiefs; and also to say that Her Majesty has instructed me to order to be made, as soon as possible, an entire piece of plaid, of Her Majesty’s colours, which is also to be presented to them in her name, as an evidence of Her Majesty’s friendship for them, and solicitude for their welfare. I have transmitted the order for the plaid, and as soon as it can be prepared I shall send it to them.
“I have the honour to be, dear Sir, yours, &c. &c.
“Chas. Aug. Murray,
“Master of Her Majesty’s Household, Buckingham Palace.
“To Geo. Catlin, Esq.”
The reading of this letter called forth a round of applause, which the Indians did not seem to understand until its contents were interpreted to them by Cadotte, when they received the bank-note with a yell or two, and then gathered around it to examine it, and to make out, if they could, how it could be a present of 20l., or (in American currency, which they were a little more familiar with) 100 dollars. That they might better appreciate it, however, I sent Daniel to the door with it, who in a few moments brought back twenty sovereigns, which were placed in the chief’s hand, and, being better understood, were soon divided equally, and put into the pouches which were attached to their belts.
The War-chief (who was not much of an orator, and always seemed embarrassed when he spoke) then rose, and advanced to the front of the platform to offer his acknowledgments. He held his long pipe to his lips, and, drawing several deep breaths of smoke to his lungs, and pouring it out through his nostrils, at length began:—
“My friends—I can’t speak—I never speak. (Great applause, and he smoked again.)
“My friends—My heart and my tongue were never made to live together. (Roar of applause, and ‘How, how, how!’) Our chief is old, and his words few: he has told you that the Great Spirit has been kind to us, and that we have seen the face of our Great Mother the Queen. We have all thanked the Great Spirit for this, and we all wish to thank our Great Mother now for the presents she has sent us. She is not here, and we can’t thank her; but we see these presents pass through your hands, and we wish to thank you. (‘How, how, how!’ and ‘Hear.’)
“Brothers—I have no more to say, but I shall be glad in a little time to offer you my hand.” (“How, how, how!” and applause.)
The audience were now prepared, and the Indians also, for the pipe-dance, one of the most spirited and picturesque of their dances, and which they gave with great effect. It was then announced that the Indians would seat themselves on the front of the platform, where all the visitors who desired it might have an opportunity to advance and shake hands with them. This afforded the visitors a gratifying opportunity of getting nearer to them, and disposed many to be liberal to them, who gave them money and trinkets to a considerable amount.
Thus passed their first night of exhibition in London. The audience gradually drew off, and the Indians, at length seeing a space through which they could pass, gathered up their weapons, &c., and retired to their private rooms, leaving Daniel to answer to, and explain, all the curious surmises and questions that had been raised in the minds of the audience during the evening, and not explained; amongst whom (he told me the next day) there were at least a dozen who wished to know “in what way the Indians were taken—whether with a lasso or in a sort of pit,” as they had heard of their taking wild oxen, &c. Half a dozen inquired what part of the Indies they were from; twenty or more “whether Cooper’s descriptions of the Red Indians were true;” several “whether they eat the scalps;” and one desired to be informed “if it was actually necessary to cross the ocean to get to America, or whether it was not attached to the mainland.” Several ladies were waiting to inquire “whether the Indians actually had no beards;” and a great number of women after these, some of whom lingered patiently until all other questions had been answered, begged to know “whether the interpreter and the handsome little fellow Sah-mah were married.”
Mr. Rankin and myself, as usual, went into the Indians’ apartments to smoke a pipe with them after the fatigues of the evening were over, and we found the poor fellows in an unusually pleasant humour, counting over and showing the money and trinkets which they had received from the visitors, and also the money sent by the Queen, which, to be divided more exactly per capita (their mode of dividing presents), they had got changed into silver.
Their high excitement and exhilaration convinced us that it was the very sort of life they required to lead to secure their health; and their remarks upon the incidents that had transpired in the room, as well as things they discovered in the crowd, were exceedingly amusing and caused them a great deal of merriment whilst they were repeating them over. In the midst of all this they often uttered the exciting word Chickabobboo; and it occurred to Mr. Rankin and myself as a suitable occasion to explain to them that we had no objection to their having each a glass of ale at their dinner, and also after the exceeding fatigues of their dances at night. We told them “that, in binding them in the promise they had made, and so far kept, it never entered our heads that they were not to be allowed an occasional glass of wine or ale—luxuries of which nearly all the good people of England, ladies as well as gentlemen, and even divines, partook in a moderate way. We believed that they would use as much discretion in taking those things as English fashionable people did, and felt quite sure they would keep their promise with us. I told them that this ale which I had just mentioned was a very fine drink, and we thought that, though it was not quite as good as the Queen’s chickabobboo, yet they would like it, and that a glass of it at dinner, and also after their night’s fatigues, would give them strength and be of service to them. I told them also that we had just sent for a jug of it (at that moment coming in), that they might try it, and see whether they liked it.” “How, how, how!” resounded through the whole house; and each, as he emptied his glass, shouted “Chickabobboo! chickabobboo! ne-she-sheen! ne-she-sheen!” (good, good). So we agreed that, if on the next morning they should pronounce its effects to be pleasing, they should be allowed a similar quantity every day at dinner, and also at night, instead of the strong coffee they were accustomed to drink before going to bed.
We then left them; and thus finished our first day’s labours and excitements at the Egyptian Hall.
Rev. Mr. S—— and friend visit the Indians again—A day appointed for a talk about religion—Indians go to the Thames Tunnel—Give the medicine-dance (wabeno) under it—Kind treatment there, and Chickabobboo—The exhibition—Egyptian Hall—Debate about the propriety of the Indians dancing to make money—Great crowd—Woman screaming and lifted on to the platform by Cadotte (afterwards called the “jolly fat dame”)—She gives Cadotte a beautiful bracelet—Her admiration of Cadotte—Evening gossip after their exhibition—The amusements of the evening and sights of the day—A clergyman asks an interview with the Indians and gets offended—Exhibition rooms at night—Great crowd—The “jolly fat dame” in full dress—She talks with Cadotte—Indians meet the Rev. Mr. S—— and friend by appointment—Old Chief’s speech to them—Gish-ee-gosh-e-ghee’s speech—Reverend gentlemen thank them and take leave.
The morning after their first interview with the public at the Egyptian Hall having been deemed a proper time for a visit to them, the Rev. Mr. S—— and a friend called on me with a view to a further conversation with them on the subject of religion, which had been postponed at their request until after they had seen the Queen, which honour they had now had. I spoke to the chiefs about it, and they said, “It is very difficult now, for we have not time. Mr. Rankin has gone for the carriage, and we are just going out to ride, but you can bring them in.”
The old chief received them very kindly, and gave them seats, when the Rev. Mr. S—— addressed them through the interpreter in the most kind and winning manner. “My friends, I have been delighted to see by the papers that your Great Mother the Queen has graciously received you and made you some valuable presents; and I hope the time is come now when your minds are at ease, and we can have some conversation on that great and important subject that I proposed the other day.”
The old man was at that moment painting his face with vermilion and bear’s grease, as he sat on the floor with a small looking-glass between his knees, and the palms of both hands covered with his red paint, which he was plastering over his face, and impressing on his naked arms and shoulders. He was not in a condition or mood to make a speech, or to hold a long talk; but he replied in a few words: “You see, my friends, that it is impossible to talk long now, for my young men, like myself, are all dressing and painting to take our ride, which we take every morning at ten. We are going now to the show of wild beasts, and we can’t wait long; if we do, we may not see them.” The reverend gentleman very pleasantly and patiently said to him, that he did not wish to take up any of their time when they had amusements or exercise to attend to; but he hoped they would keep the subject in mind, and give them some leisure hour when they could listen to him; and proposed the next day at twelve o’clock. The old man said, “No; at twelve they were to give their exhibition, which was, after that day, to be given in the day and evening also.”—“Well, at two?”—“At two we dine.”—“Well, what do you do after dinner?”—“Sleep.”—“Not all the afternoon?”—“Pretty much.”—“Well, in the morning, at eight?”—“In bed at eight.”—“What time do you breakfast?”—“About nine.”—“Well, then, say ten?”—“Well, ten.”—“To-morrow?”—“No, next day.” The reverend gentleman then said, “Well, my good friends, we will come and see you the day after to-morrow, at ten; and we hope you will think of this important subject in the mean time.” The chief said, “He would be glad to see them, as he had promised; but they had so much to see and to think of, that it was not probable they could have much time to think about it; and as the Queen didn’t say anything to them about it, they hadn’t given it any thought since they last met.”
The Indians took their customary omnibus drive— not on this morning, as the old chief anticipated, to the menagerie, but to the Thames Tunnel and London Bridge. To these they were accompanied by Mr. Rankin, and looked upon them both as the wondrous works of white men’s hands, which they could not comprehend. When they entered the Tunnel, and were told that they were under the middle of the Thames, and that the great ships were riding over their heads, they stood in utter astonishment, with their hands over their mouths (denoting silence), and said nothing until they came out. They called it the “Great Medicine Cave,” and gave the medicine (or wa-be-no) dance at the entrance of it. Mr. Rankin made a speech here to the thousands assembled, which I believe was never recorded. They were met with much kindness at that place, where they received some fine presents, and were treated, they said, to some very good chickabobboo.
The scene at the Egyptian Hall on this evening was again very exciting, the Hall being as full as it could pack, and the Indians in great glee, which insured much amusement. I accompanied the Indians on to the platform as before, and, as usual, introduced them to the audience, and explained the objects for which they had come to this country, &c.: they then proceeded with their amusements by giving a dance, accompanied by their customary yells and the war-whoop, which was followed by thundering applause. They then seated themselves and smoked their pipes, while I explained the nature and object of the dance they had just given. While I was thus engaged, some decided opposition to the nature of the exhibition manifested itself, which might well exist in the minds of persons unacquainted with the relative position in which these Indians and myself stood; and which objections I felt quite willing to meet at that moment.
The first interruption that I met with was from a man who had taken his position in front of me, and whom I had seen several times endeavouring to obtain a hearing. He at length took an opportunity when he could be distinctly heard, and addressed me thus:—“Do you think it right, Sir, to bring those poor ignorant people here to dance for money?” There was a cry of “Put him out! put him out!” but as soon as I could restore silence I said, “No, my friends, don’t put him out; I wish to answer such questions.” At that moment another rose in an opposite part of the room, and said—