CHAP. I. Of the Country, &c.

IF we conſider the extent of the dominions of the King of Denmark, we may reckon him one of the greateſt in Europe; but if we look to the importance and value of them, the kingdom may be conſidered as even leſs than Portugal.

His titles are King of Denmark and Norway, of the Goths and Vandals, Duke of Sleſwick and Holſtein, Stormar and Ditmarſh, Earl in Oldenburgh and Delmenhurſt, all which countries he actually poſſeſſes, either in whole or in part; ſo that except the title of the Goths and Vandals, equally enjoyed by the King of Sweden, and which the Crown of [46] Denmark has retained ever ſince it was maſter of Sweden, (as we in England do that of France), all the reſt are ſub⯑ſtantial titles.

Denmark is bounded on all ſides by the ſea, except one ſmall neck of land, where it joins to Holſtein. The Ger⯑man ocean waſhes it on the weſt and north-weſt, the en⯑trance into the Baltic, called the Categate, on the north and north-eaſt; the Baltic on the eaſt, and river Eyder on the ſouth, which is ſuppoſed to have been the boundary of the Roman empire, and which having its ſource very near the eaſt ſea, takes its courſe weſtward, and falls into the ocean at Toningten, a ſtrong town of the duke of Holſtein Gottorp. So that if a canal was made about 12 Engliſh miles long, from this river to Kiel, it would be a perfect iſland; but in this account the duchy of Holſtein is not included, one half of which belongs only to Denmark, and the other half to the Duke of Holſtein Gottorp.

Such a canal is now almoſt completed, deſigned to form a junction between the Baltic and German ocean. From its beginning, to the deep water in the river Eyder, into which it opens, the diſtance is about 20 Engliſh miles. The expence of this cut, as it is under⯑taken by contract, is about 200,000l. The breadth of the canal at top is 100 feet, at bottom 54 feet, the loweſt depth of water 10 feet, and in the whole length there are ſix ſluices. Common merchantmen of about 120 tuns burden will be here able to paſs and ſave a long, [47] circuitous voyage round the extremity of Jutland, as may be ſeen by the map, and in which veſſels are liable to be detained by contrary winds. Indeed this round-about navigation is ſo tedious, that goods ſhipped at Copenhagen for Hamburgh, are not unuſually ſent to Lubec by ſea, and from thence by land to Hamburgh; but by this canal, a veſſel may paſs immediately from the Baltic into the German ocean, and proceed, without un⯑loading, to Hamburgh or Holland.

All Denmark, as it is bounded, lies in length between 54 degrees 45 minutes, and 58 degrees 15 minutes north latitude; its breadth is no where proportionable, but, at a large computation, it may be reckoned two-thirds the ſize of Ireland.

The kingdom of Norway, which belongs to the Crown of Denmark, has been already treated of in the firſt vo⯑lume of this work.

Holſtein, which includes Ditmarſh and Stormar, is bounded by the duchy of Sleſwick on the north, the duchy of Saxe Lawenburg on the ſouth-eaſt, the river Elbe on the ſouth-weſt, and the reſt of it is waſhed by the German ocean and Baltic ſea. It is between latitudes and 55 54 north.

Oldenburgh and Delmenhurſt are two counties in Ger⯑many, that lie together, detached from all the territories [48] of Denmark. The two rivers Elbe and Weſer, and the duchy of Bremen interpoſing between them and Holſtein. They are bounded on the north-eaſt by the Weſer, on the weſt by Eaſt Friezland and the County of Embden, and on the ſouth, by part of the biſhoprick of Munſter. They are a ſmall territory of about 35 Engliſh miles in diameter, the middle of which is in the latitude of 53 degrees 30 minutes.

The reſt of the King of Denmark's territories, not men⯑tioned in the enumeration of his titles, are the iſlands of Faro, Iceland, and Greenland, in the north ſea; the iſlands of St. Thomas, St. John, and St. Croix, with ſome of the C [...]bb [...]e iſlands in the Weſt Indies; the town of Tran⯑quebar with its territories, and the iſland of Nicobar on the coaſt of Coromandel in Aſia, and the citadel of Chriſ⯑tianburg on the coaſt of Guinea in Africa. The north ſea iſlands have been deſcribed in Vol. I. the colonies detached will be ſpoken of hereafter; we ſhall now only ſpeak of what is properly called Denmark, which conſiſts of two large, and ſeveral ſmall iſlands, with the penin⯑ſula of Jutland.

Jutland is the largeſt and moſt fertile country, but the iſlands are more conſiderable, on account of their ſitua⯑tion, particularly Zealand, becauſe Copenhagen, the capi⯑tal of the empire is the [...]e ſeated, and the famous paſſage of the Sound is bordered by its ſhore. I will begin then with Zealand.

[49]Zealand is the largeſt of all the Daniſh iſlands, it is nearly of a circular form, and is about 700 Engliſh miles round. The ſoil is fertile, producing no bread-corn except rye, but yields plentiful crops of fine oats and barley. There are but few meadows in it, and yet there is no want of good hay, moſt of their graſs, which is ſhort and ſure, growing by the ſides of their corn-fields, or in ſcattered ſpots of marſhy grounds. It has no rivers, nor above half a ſcore brooks capable of turning a mill; but to ſupply the deficiency of water there is a great number of fine lakes, ſufficiently ſtored with fiſh. A gentleman remarkable for his wit, ſpeaking of this iſland, replied in French, to Mr. Wraxhall, who aſked him if the country was pleaſant and agreeable; Monſieur il n'y a ſur cette iſle, ni montagne, ni riviere; mais pour des lacs; grace à Dieu, il y en aſſez. It is very flat, but well ſcattered with woods of oak and beech, and cultivated with great induſtry. By the great number of tumuli ſcattered on all ſides, ſays Mr. Wraxhall, I thought myſelf ſometimes on ſome of the Wiltſhire or Hampſhire downs. Theſe tumuli reſemble, in ſize and appearance, thoſe in England, and are probably ancient Saxon ſepulchres, but this is only conjecture, as none of them have been opened. There are alſo, and likewiſe in Sleſwick and Holſtein, ſeveral collections of ſtones ſet up in a circular form, ſome of which are very large, and reſemble thoſe at Stonehenge in Wilts, though on a ſmaller ſcale, of the origin of which the Danes are totally ignorant.

[50]Mr. Coxe obſerved many ſuch in the Weſt Gothland in Sweden, between Lalange and Lidkioping, ſome in a rough ſtate, a few hewn flat and broad, and others re⯑ſembling pillars, pointed at top in the rudeſt manner. The peaſants in Sweden call them Gothic ſtones, and ſay they were erected by the Goths, whom they repreſent as a race of giants formerly inhabiting theſe countries.

The whole iſland is divided into 16 diſtinct counties, called ampts, or prefectures, and contains two cities, Copenhagen and Roſkild.

The air in and about Copenhagen is but indifferent, owing to its low ſituation and the frequent fogs; yet owing to the pureneſs of their firing, which is beech-wood, colds of the lungs are very rare. Near a fourth part of Zea⯑land is foreſt, lying open for the King's hunting and his game, flags, wild-boars, roe-bucks, &c. The face of the land is pleaſant in many places, abounding with little hills, fine verdure, woods and lakes, with a very agreeable diverſity. For ſea-ports, that moſt excellent one of Copenhagen muſt make amends for want of them, not only in this, but among other of the iſlands; there being few others capable of harbouring a veſſel of 200 tons burden. But this is not a ſenſible want, as there are no commodities in this iſland to export.

Here, and in all Denmark are but two ſeaſons of the year, winter and ſummer. Spring and autumn are ſel⯑dom [51] known, the ſpring never. There is an imme⯑diate tranſition from heat to cold, and from cold to heat. During the three months of June, July, and Auguſt, the heat is much more intenſe than in England, and very ſultry in the night, but 'tis a gloomy heat, an interpoſi⯑tion of thick vapours being perceived before the ſun. In Copenhagen for theſe three months they are plagued with flies, which they endeavour to deſtroy by a poiſoned water; in the laying of which in their kitchens and chambers, whole buſhels of red flies may be ſwept toge⯑ther in one room.

The next iſland to Zealand in ſize is Funen. The dio⯑ceſe of Funen includes the iſlands of Langeland, Laaland, Falſter, and ſome others. It has two governors; Funen and Langeland are under the one, Laaland and Falſter under the other.

The iſland of Funen lies between the great and little belt, is, according to Buſching 10 geographical miles long and nine broad. His geographical mile is about ſix miles Engliſh. It is ſo fertile and pleaſant, that moſt of the noble families in the kingdom have reſided here for many years. The lands are as well cultivated as in moſt of the counties in England, ſome incloſed with low, neatly kept hedges, and the open parts all under tillage.

[52]Funen has no mountains or rocks, but conſiſts of gentle hills and declivities, with fine ſpreading vales; ſome of the higher grounds prettily topped with woods, and there being many rivulets, the whole country is beautiful, and reſembles many agreeable tracts in England. There is plenty of good paſtures and meadows, and numerous herds of black cattle and hogs. The capital city of this dioceſe is Odenſe in Funen.

Langeland is ſeven geographical miles long from north to ſouth, and one broad; very fertile, and is a county of itſelf, containing ſeven pariſhes.

Laaland is ſeven and a half geographical miles long, and three broad, and is the moſt fertile ſpot in all Denmark; but as the country lies low, the ſoil is damp, and the air unwholeſome. The nobility here are numerous, and have very fine ſeats and large eſtates.

The iſland of Falſter, in ſoil, &c. reſembles the two deſcribed above; it is ſix geographical miles long, three wide in the north, and only one towards the ſouth, and is two leagues diſtant from Zealand. It may be called the orchard of Denmark, for it yields abundance of fruit and all ſorts of game. This iſland is commonly the dowry of the Queens of Denmark. It has a medicinal ſpring.

[53]Amack is a ſmall iſland joined to the city of Copenhagen by two bridges, one of theſe a drawbridge; it is a geogra⯑phical mile and a half in length, or, according to Coxe, four Engliſh miles long and two broad, quite level, with⯑out woods, except a few thickets. As the ſoil is ſo un⯑commonly rich and fertile, it is conſidered as the kitchen-garden and ſtorehouſe of the city; it is laid out in gar⯑dens and paſtures, the inhabitants ſupplying Copenhagen market twice a week with vegetables, milk, butter, and cheeſe. It is divided into two pariſhes, and peopled with about 800 families; the deſcendants of ſome north Hollanders, invited to ſettle here by Chriſtian II. in 1516, at the requeſt of his queen, who was a native of the Netherlands, and who were brought here to make butter and cheeſe for the court. The iſland contains nine villages.

The Amackers ſtill retain the habit, language, and cuſtom of their predeceſſors, with all their cleanlineſs and induſtry, nor will they intermarry with the Danes. Their diſtrict is a medley of Low Dutch, German, and Daniſh, and the miniſters ſpeak in Low Dutch as well as Daniſh. Part of the city of Copenhagen, called Chriſtian Shafen ſtands on the iſle of Amack. The inhabitants have their own inferior tribunal, but, in capital offences, are amenable to the King's Court of Juſtice at Copenhagen. The old national Friezland habit is ſtill in uſe amongſt them. It reſembles the habit of the ancient quakers, as repreſented in the pictures of the Dutch and Flemiſh [54] painters. The men wear broad, trimmed hats, black jackets, fall glazed breeches of the ſame colour, looſe at the knee and tied round about the waiſt. The women are in black jacket, and petticoats, with a piece of blue glazed cloth bound on their heads.

Jutland, part of the ancient Cimbrica Cherſoneſus, is the largeſt part of the kingdom, and may be computed at two thirds of the whole. It is divided into two Stifts [...], or principal governments. This and the duchy of Sleſwick, form a peninſula, the north part of which is Jutland. It is 38 geographical miles long, and from between 15 to 20 broad, and of all the territories be⯑longing to Denmark yields the greateſt revenue; the middle part of it, excepting a few ſpots of arable land, is nothing but heath and moor, which, however, afford good paſture for oxen, ſheep, and goats; but the other parts, which are of greater extent, are exceedingly fertile, the inhabitants annually exporting large quantities of grain to Sweden, Norway, and Holland, and alſo lean oxen, bacon, and hogs; ſo that Jutland is called the land of bacon and rye-bread. It yields alſo great plenty of ſea-fiſh and river-fiſh, having many freſh-water lakes. The chief b [...]gs and gulf [...] are on the eaſt ſide of the peninſula, and of theſe the principal is the gulf of Lym, called Lymſurt, which runs from the Categate, 20 geo⯑graphical miles into land, widening as it goes, and form⯑ing many ſmall iſlands. It is navigable, and abounds with fiſh, and, as the weſt ſide of Jutland, is ſeparated [55] from the north ſea only by a narrow tract of land. There are other gulphs that form good harbours.

Jutland is every where interſperſed with hills and emi⯑nencies, and on the eaſt with fine woods of oak, beech, fir, birch, &c. but the weſt ſide not being ſo woody, the inhabitants burn turf and heath for fuel. Here is alſo great plenty of game. The air is rather keen and cold. The Jutlanders are of a robuſt, vigorous conſtitution, and reſolute temper, and ſeem to have raiſed themſelves to a ſtate of freedom ſuperior to that of the other inhabi⯑tants of Denmark. Many of the Jutland peaſants have freeholds, for which they pay only a ſmall acknowledg⯑ment to the lord of the manor, and the public taxes. But the Daniſh language is ſpoken here with leſs purity and elegance than in the other provinces, and the Jutlanders have alſo a particular accent. It has four chief cities, Aalborg, Wiborg, Aarhuus, and Ripen, which are all biſhops ſees.

The duchy of Sleſwick is called South Jutland. It is divided from the duchy of Holſtein, and conſequently from the German empire, by the rivers Eyder and Lewens, which are its ſouth boundaries; has the Baltic on the eaſt, the north ſea on the weſt; extends from Renſburgh to Koldingen, about 18 geographical miles in length, and in breadth from eight to 14. It is a fiat country, and plentifully ſupplied with corn, cattle, and fiſh.

[56]The inhabitants are a mixture of Danes, Juts, Lower Saxons, and Frieſians; beſides theſe there are Hollanders ſettled in Frederickſtadt, and Flemings in Northſtrand, which occaſions a variety of dialects in this country. The German language is ſpoken in many places, and divine ſervice is performed in High Dutch.

Lutheraniſm is the prevailing religion in this duchy, except at Frederickſtadt where all ſects are tolerated. On the iſland of Nordſtrand, the Roman-catholicks have a pariſh-church and a chapel.

The iſland of Nordſtrand lies on the north ſea, and was formerly three Daniſh miles long and a mile broad. It was inhabited by ſavage Frieſians, contained 22 pariſhes, and abounded in cattle and corn. It has been ever ſubject to inundations, but on the 11th of October, 1634, about 10 at night, the whole iſland was over⯑flowed, and the impetuoſity of the waves was ſo great, that 6,408 perſons, 1,332 houſes, 30 windmills, ſix ſteeples, and 50,000 head of cattle were waſhed away by the ſea. In Eiderſtedt, beſides 664 houſes, in⯑volved in the ſame ruin, 2,107 perſons, 6,100 head of cattle, and 6,738 ſheep and hogs periſhed at the ſame time. Of all Nordſtrand nothing now remains but one ſmall pariſh, which owed its ſafety to the height of its ſituation.

[57]It muſt be remarked as a great natural defect of the kingdom of Denmark, that throughout the whole there is not one river navigable for veſſels of any conſiderable burden, unleſs we reckon the Elbe, which is rather the boundary of the kingdom than belonging to it.

That part of the duchy of Sleſwick which runs from Renſburgh through Sleſwick to Haderſleve, from whence we croſs the little belt, which is nine Engliſh miles over; this part of the duchy is well cultivated, is, in general, flat and open, but occaſion⯑ally exhibits variegated landſcapes, of heath, arable land, and paſture, encloſed with quickſet hedges, and ſtudded with beech and oak. The farms have an ap⯑pearance of great neatneſs, and there are many ranges of new cottages lately erected at the expence of the Crown for coloniſts. Theſe cottages are ſpacious, and reſemble thoſe of Weſtphalia, containing, under the ſame roof, a large barn with diviſions for cattle, and two rooms at the fur⯑ther end for the family. Each family is ſupplied with ploughs, carts, and other neceſſary implements of huſ⯑bandry, two horſes, and a penſion for three years.

Marſhall travelled through the whole peninſula of Jutland, and found very little waſte land, the whole under cultivation, and, on enquiry, was informed that the nobi⯑lity reſide in caſtles of their own, and are all cultivators of their own land, by means of peaſants, who are generally in a ſtate of villainage. At Hodſedburgh, he ſays, he had [58] the accident to break his chaiſe, but Count Roncellen, the owner of a neighbouring caſtle, being in ſight, and on horſeback, rode up to him, and invited him, after ſome enquiries, to his chateau, ſaying he would ſend his ſmith to repair it; for ſmiths and wheelers in this country are ſcarce, except in the larger villages.

At this nobleman's houſe he was very hoſpitably en⯑tertained, and as it will give my readers ſome inſight into the diſpoſition of the people, and, though a digreſſion, relieve him from dry deſcription, I will relate what Mr. Marſhall ſaw and learned, in his own words:

"When we arrived," ſays he, "at the caſtle, the Count carried me through, ſeveral large rooms, to one where his breakfaſt equipage was ſpread, and introduced me to his friends. All the company ſpoke French. Breakfaſt was preſently ſerved, and conſiſted only of coffee and milk, and water-gruel for the Count, which ſeemed to [...] regular diet. In converſation, he told me, that the nobility and gentry of large fortunes cultivated their own eſtates, though of great extent; that he had let ſome farms in the Engliſh way, but the chief of his eſtate was in his own hands. I was with him ſome days, and he took me round his domain. In the courſe of our ramble, we reached the confines of a little town on the ſide of a hill in a ſ [...]i [...]ul ſpot, with a river at the bottom of the declivity. Of this town, ſaid the count, I have built every houſe at my own expence, and filled them with [59] manufacturers. We entered it. He ſhewed me the fabrics which he had eſtabliſhed. They were chiefly of wool. A great number of ſpinners, combers, and weavers, who made a coarſe cloth, worn by the poor of this country. The manager of the works was an Engliſh⯑man, whom the Count had brought with him from England. He informed me, he had 400 hands employed in woollen goods alone; that he wrought up all the ſorts of cloathing which found a ready market there. He ſaid the profits ariſing from this manufactory were ſmall as to him, but they were no object, they paid all the expences of the buildings he had erected, and he was a clear gainer of the number of people, whom he had thus ſettled on his eſtate, and who conſumed the produce of his land.

"He had alſo another manufactory of leather, having erected ſeveral tanneries, which prepared the hides for manufacturing into doublets, breeches, boots, ſtockings, and ſhoes. Of theſe artiſts he employed hear 300, and ſound a quick ſale for their manufacture and more profi⯑table than his woollen manufacture. He next ſhewed me his fabric of turnery ware. He had laid in large ſtocks of beech-wood, elm, horn-beam, holly, &c. and had eſta⯑bliſhed many artiſts in this way; wooden diſhes, platters, cups, ſaucers, bowls, ſcoops, &c. things in common uſe amongſt the villagers; of theſe he had 120 em⯑ployed. He had alſo a ſmall linen-manufactory, which employs about 40 hands, working up coarſe linen for [60] ſheets, ſhirts, &c. and which was, when he was there in 1769, and 1770, very much on the increaſe.

"Not one of this patriotic nobleman's works ſo much pleaſed him as his manufactories of iron. Of theſe he worked all ſorts of implements in common uſe, whether for the furniture of houſes, or domeſtic utenſils; machines for artiſts, ſuch as wheelwrights, carpenters, blackſmiths, as alſo all implements for huſbandry, and all theſe in great numbers, for which he found a ready vent. In this iron fabrick he employed more than 200 men.

"In all theſe manufactories he employed more than 1000 perſons, and the ſucceſs of them has proved ſo great, as to fix above 2000 inhabitants in the town he built for them, which conſiſts of 300 houſes. The ſtreets are laid out very regularly, interſecting each other at right angles. In the centre is a large market-place, and in the midſt of it, a ſmall, but neat, church. The whole town is well paved; the houſes are but ſmall, but all built with brick and tiled, which make a regular and, good appearance.

"The bricks and tiles are burnt in adjoining kilns be⯑longing to the Count, and the timber is cut in his own foreſts; ſo that his expences were very ſmall, to what they would have been in other circumſtances; but notwith⯑ſtanding this in the courſe of 23 years ſince he began theſe works, he had expended 33,000 ducats, or near 16,000l. [61] ſterling. This account includes the church, the paving of the town, and the erection of the works and build⯑ings for the ſeveral manufactories above-mentioned; be⯑ſides the houſes and ſhares of houſes, for ſome perſons advanced part of the money towards building their own. Excluſive of this expence he had been employed three years in erecting a handſome bridge over the river, a wharf on the banks of it, with warehouſes for merchan⯑dize, and dry and wet docks for buildings barges, and decked ſloops on the river. The tide flows up to the town, though at a conſiderable diſtance from the ſea; and the Count, among his noble plans, has ſchemed the fixing a trade at it. This town is ſituated between Pal⯑liſberg and Winguard; the river falls into the gulph that Ringſhopping ſtands on; but he has been employed in cutting a canal about two miles long, to gain a better navigation into a bay to the northward, near Woſberg. By this means he hopes to navigate brigs of 100 tons; whereas, at preſent (1770), he had only five ſloops, each of 50 tons. Theſe he wholly employs himſelf, in bringing materials for his manufactures from the Baltick, England, and Holland. His bridge, wharfs, docks, and warehouſes, he calculates will coſt him 16,000 ducats, and his navigation above 3000.

"I do not remember," continues our author, "ever receiving ſo much pleaſure, from viewing theſe great and noble exertions of princely magnificence, infinitely ex⯑ceeding all the coſtly ornaments which in ſome countries [62] are given to the ſeats of the great. They reflect im⯑mortal honour on the worthy Count, who has the ſpirit thus to proſecute the nobleſt works which Europe can exhibit. Other noblemen in Denmark have fortunes equal to this illuſtrious Count: in England we have for⯑tunes double and treble to his; but where are we to find an expenditure of a great eſtate, that reflects equal luſtre on the owner?" Mr. Marſhall may well ſay this.—"In England a great fortune is diſſipated, in horſe-racing, women, and gaming, without either benefit to the poſſeſſor, or the country belonging to him.

"The beginning of all my undertakings," ſaid that illuſtrious nobleman, "I ever find the moſt difficult. In eſtabliſhing the woollen manufactury, I had infinite trou⯑ble at firſt, in opening a regular channel, through which I could receive the wool; for our own was ſo bad, that I could ſcarce uſe any of it; and next, to get people uſed to the different branches, from picking and ſorting for the ſpinners, quite to the weavers. Moſt of the people I procured from Germany and Flanders; but a few who proved more uſeful to me, than all the reſt, from Scotland, and two or three from England. To all theſe people I have been obliged to give large ſalaries, to build them good houſes, and put up with many irre⯑gularities; but I was indefatigable in making my own people learn of them, what they could perform; and the beſt way of doing this, I found, was to give premiums to foreigners for every hand they made perfect in each [63] branch of work. Several of theſe perſons are dead, and I have not taken any pains to recruit their number; for my Danes are now, many of them, as expert as their maſters. I have, however, very often, ſtraggling par⯑ties of Germans, who come to aſk work, which I never fail giving them, and building houſes for them, if they continue in the mind of ſettling: but as I ſtill mean to at⯑tempt new manufactures, I muſt have recourſe to other countries for a few hands to inſtruct us.

"From the firſt outſet of my undertaking, I found it neceſſary to unite the character of merchant and manu⯑facturer; for had it not been for the poſſeſſion of a little ſhipping, which ſupplied me with the materials I wanted, I ſhould never have been able to have brought my works to the height at which they have now arrived. My ſloops are ſtrong and well built, and would run without danger or difficulty, even to the Mediterranean, if I had occaſion to ſend them; with the advantage of coming up into the very heart of my town. I once had a brig of 200 tons, but finding this veſſel inconvenient, I parted with her, and now confine myſelf to ſloops. I have a Dutch ſhip-carpenter, who builds them for me; and he has ſix Danes who work under him. I have alſo two herring buſſes on the ſtocks, with which I purpoſe attempting the herring-fiſhery; having engaged three Dutch fiſher⯑men, uſed to barrelling. If I meet with ſucceſs, I ſhall encreaſe my number of buſſes; and when my canal is completed, I will build ſome larger ſloops, and a brig [64] or two of 100 tons, to carry the product of my fiſhery up the Streights, and bring back ſalt in return.

"My great object is to make every part of my general plan unite, to form one whole, by rendering each diviſion of it the ſupport of another. All theſe works have a wonderful efficacy in increaſing the people on my eſtate. Though not a hut was ſtanding in this place 23 years ago, there are now above 2000 inhabi⯑tants. My buildings increaſe conſiderably every year. I have a great number of brick and lime-burners, maſons, ſmiths, and carpenters, that do nothing elſe but build houſes for new-comers. This work regulates all the reſt; it is the firſt I provide caſh for, and what I can ſpare from this, I expend on the other works. I built 35 houſes laſt year, and the number this year will be near 40, and from the applications I have re⯑ceived, I apprehend, I ſhall next year build more than 60. I will next ſhew the effect this population has had upon my huſbandry.

"The extent of this nobleman's eſtate is nine Engliſh miles one way, and more than four another, but ſome⯑what indented. It is a fine, variegated country of hill and dale, with ſome mountains well watered with rivers, ſtreams, and lakes; and part of it nobly ſpread with ex⯑ceeding fine timber.

[65]"On riding over the eſtate, I found not only the vallies under high cultivation, but the ſides of the hills, with great numbers of farm-houſes and cottages, the inhabitants of which ſeemed as eaſy, chearful, and happy, as if they had been reſident in England; they all appeared pleaſed with the preſence of their lord, and eſteem him as their maſter and father. When I came to this eſtate, ſaid the Count, I found it farmed by my fathers bailiffs and vaſſals; but ſoon diſcovering theſe bailiffs to be raſcals, I turned them all out; diſpoſed of the land to ſuch induſtrious and ſaving people as were then on the eſtate, and to whom I let farms according to their ability of living and ſtocking. I did not leave them totally to the cuſtoms of their own country, but procured huſbandmen and implements from Flanders; gave pre⯑miums to the beſt ploughmen, and to thoſe who produced the greateſt crops, and beſt adapted to wintering of cattle; ſo that I have improved my lands, and made theſe bring in a rent of 18 s. Engliſh per acre, that, when I firſt became poſſeſſed of, were waſte tracks. This is wholly owing to the market occaſioned by my new colony, which has not only enriched me, but every tenant on my eſtate.

"The waſte tracks I manage thus: I allow the farmers the expence of incloſing whatever they like to take, con⯑tiguous to their farms, provided they take no more land than they keep well cultivated, and I take no rent for ſuch fields for five years. After this, they pay me for them about half the value, which continues as long as the [66] improver lives; but on his death, I raiſe it to the full value. Theſe terms they think ſo reaſonable, that there is not a peaſant among them, but what makes a ſmall addition every year, and others who get or ſave money, have new farms on the ſame terms; paying me, in addi⯑tion, intereſt for the money I expend in buildings for them. I am very attentive to theſe new tracts of culti⯑vated land, to ſee that they do not neglect them; for I never ſuffer a piece of land, once incloſed, to remain untilled; and as I ſee my town and people increaſe an⯑nually, a ready market is found for the produce of theſe new incloſures.

"Where I found land very ſtony or boggy, leſt the apparent ſterility of ſuch lands ſhould diſcourage my tenants from taking them, I was at half the expence of removing the ſtones or draining the bogs, or advanced money for their doing it. This has induced them to ſur⯑mount all difficulties, and I have the pleaſure to con⯑template that ſeveral tracts of rich meadow, worth 18 s. per acre, were reclaimed from a bog worth nothing."

My readers will naturally with me look upon this very patriotic nobleman rather as a being of romance, a viſion of perfection, than a real inſtance of ſo many public and private virtues. Mr. Marſhall is very minute and particular in his account of the manner in which this gentleman proceeded, and if any man of large fortune and domain ſhould catch fire from this abridged ſtate of it, and wiſh [67] to imitate it, I will refer him to the author from whom I took it: Marſhall's Travels through Denmark.

The land which the Count kept in his own hands was originally the worſt part of his whole eſtate; finding no perſon inclined to farm it, he undertook it himſelf. It ſpreads every way for three or four miles round his town, and is now the richeſt land of the whole.

"In all the improvements," ſaid the Count to Mr. Marſhall, "which I have made on my eſtate, by letting my lands to the peaſants, I have adhered ſtrictly to the rule of proceeding on the very contrary conduct which is common among nine-tenths of the nobility of the king⯑dom. They keep their tenants as poor and humble as poſſible; I, on the contrary, do every thing to enable them to enrich themſelves, and would rather inſpire them with the manly boldneſs of the poor in your country, than keep them in the ſlavery of ours. My peaſants grow daily into wealthy farmers, and are all in eaſy and happy circumſtances. They marry and beget numerous poſterities. The population of my eſtate increaſes, and with the people, the general markets for products, which I have all along aimed at, and which is juſt ſo much clear gain in my pocket. I have not a man on my eſtate that is not profitable to me in ſome way or other, and it is incredible how quick they increaſe. There is not ſuch a thing as a marriageable man or woman on it, that is unmarried. Every man and woman that applys to [68] me for a houſe, are ſure of having one built for them, if I know them to be of good character and induſtrious; and they have all a ſmall piece of land, and are chearful and contented. In ſuch a ſituation, marriages muſt abound, and the people increaſe in a manner which no part of Europe has any idea of. Among all my people there is not one that is burdenſome to the reſt; no old peaſant, or labourer, but what has ſaved enough, before he grew old, to live happily in his latter days; very few but what become little farmers before they are too ad⯑vanced in life, and in a ſtate which their relations would think it ſhameful to let them want their aſſiſtance.

"The example of my own eſtate," continued the Count, "proves to me, that nothing is wanting to make a country populous, and conſequently rich, but giving the people an object for their induſtry to work upon; the moſt idle will of themſelves be converted to induſtry; if their induſtry is beneficial to them, and they have no dependance on any thing elſe. No people are naturally more indolent then the common people of Denmark; but in the moſt populous part of Holland, they are not more active and induſtrious than all the people on my eſtate; which change has been effected merely by throw⯑ing them into the purſuit of gain, and leaving them quietly to enjoy it. The natural increaſe of mankind is prodigious, when marriages are no burden, but chil⯑dren riches.

[69]"But I mean to bound my progreſs; convinced that where land is cultivated to the utmoſt, the cultivators themſelves could not conſume the produce. It is neceſ⯑ſary for the welfare of ſtates, that there ſhould be a bal⯑lance kept up between commerce and agriculture, and that manufactures ſhould be eſtabliſhed, to produce a mar⯑ket, to carry off the ſurplus, which the cultivators cannot conſume themſelves. Under this conſideration, when every part of my eſtate is fully improved, and a market provided for all its products, at a good price, not a high one, (for extremes are not permanent) I will neither build another houſe or another ſhip. I will ſit down content with that degree of ſucceſs, not having a doubt but it will be laſting; becauſe the agriculture, manu⯑factures and commerce will be balanced and dependant on each other, exactly to the reſpective amount of each; and as there will be no fabricks wrought, but what are of univerſal demand, and no commerce puſhed on, but what the fabrics employ; and as all the people in each of theſe branches will be dependant for their proviſions and neceſſaries on the track of culture around them, and on no other, all dangerous exceſs will be guarded againſt, and a regular induſtry will maintain itſelf, without being hurt by the acquiſition of great riches.

It is to be here remarked, that in Denmark the King, as the clergy have here, has the tenth of all land-pro⯑ducts, and this in many parts of the kingdom is ga⯑thered in kind, and ſold by his ſuperintendants; but [70] landlords may compound, though the compoſition is generally high. Count Roncellen always paid the com⯑poſition rather than his tenants ſhould be diſcouraged by this tax; nor would he ſuffer his eſtate to be overrun by hunters, ſo common in Denmark.

Were our young nobility and gentry in England to ap⯑ply themſelves to agriculture, they would render better ſervice to their country, and find their life more agreea⯑ble than that of arms, the pay of which is utterly incom⯑petent to the expenſive life they are thus thrown into. Unlooked-for promotions make, on the whole, very poor amends for ſuch a regular life of poverty; but in huſbandry, if they gave an active attention to it, they would find far better revenues, with much leſs expen⯑ſive life, than any ſervice can confer; and at the ſame time, the profeſſion has nothing diſhonourable in it, and every exertion made would tend to promote, in the higheſt degree, the intereſt of their country.

"I will cloſe this account," ſays Mr. Marſhall, "with obſerving, that Count Roncellen's fortune is as conſidera⯑ble as the greateſt eſtates in England, and yet his way of living in the caſtle is not ſuperior to that of an Engliſh gentleman of two or three thouſand pounds a year. His table was always well ſpread with plenty of every thing that was in ſeaſon; but then his own eſtate produces every thing but ſugar, ſpices, and wine. He has river and ſea-fiſh in great perfection. His foreſt yields him veniſon [71] and game, and other parts of his land plenty of wild fowl; all which, with the cultivated products, afford ample materials for a regular table. In his wines, he is by no means expenſive; and his dreſs, comparatively ſpeaking, coſts him nothing. All his revenue, therefore, which increaſes much every year, is expended as faſt as it comes in, in the noble undertakings of which I have given an account. Such an expenditure does as much benefit to the ſtate, as honour to himſelf, and is a way of laying out a great income, that can never be ſufficiently praiſed.

"Perhaps, alſo, it is as full of enjoyment as any other diſpoſition of it can be. Let us ſuppoſe an Engliſh nobleman of thirty or forty thouſand pounds a year, living in the uſual courſe of diſſipation, electioneering, and gam⯑ing, and you will ever ſee in them a ſpecies of remorſe and diſtruſt at the cramped ſituation which ſucceſſive mortgages bring on; and if the income is exceeded, the expenditure of it gives but a momentary pleaſure, and never a laſting ſatisfaction; but, on the contrary, let us picture to ourſelves, a nobleman ſpending ſuch an in⯑come, the year round, upon the ſpot that yields it to him, in building, planting, improving waſtes, making roads, cutting canals, eſtabliſhing manufactories, opening har⯑bours, attracting commerce; in a word, executing ſuch noble works as Count Roncellen has been employed in, and I think, that ſuch an employment of a great fortune muſt be infinitely ſuperior, in ſelf-ſatisfaction and enjoy⯑ment, [72] to the other diſpoſition of it. This alone inſures an increaſe, and adding every day to a man's wealth, at the ſame time that every ſhiliing he makes is more beneficial to the community than to himſelf."

CHAP. II. Of the Cities, &c.

THE chief cities of Denmark, are Copenhagen, Elſinore, and Roſkild in Zealand; Odenſee in Funen; Wiborg in North Jutland, and Sleſwick in South Jutland: but I will ſpeak of each in their turn.

The moſt ſtriking object is the harbour and naval arſe⯑nal; it is capacious enough to hold 500 men of war, and yet only one ſhip can enter at a time, which entrance is defended by ſeveral batteries of great guns; and there are ſeveral platforms near it, with three forts. There are no tides in the Baltick, but the depth of water, in the harbour, renders it perfectly ſecure, for the greateſt ſhips; ſo that it is juſt⯑y reckoned one of the beſt harbours in the world. The King's fleet, (for this is the princi⯑pal ſea-port in the kingdom,) lies regularly arranged be⯑tween booms, and over againſt them magazines, with the name of each ſhip on the door of the ſtore-room belong⯑ing to it; and every thing is kept in the completeſt order. The admiralty is on the bank of the haven, and the arſenal is well furniſhed with cannon and ſtores. Adjoining to theſe buildings is a citadel, which com⯑mands the harbour.

Commerce, according to Coxe, is here very buſy: the haven is always crouded with merchant-ſhips, and the ſtreets are interſected by broad canals, which bring ſhips cloſe up to the walls of the quays. But Mr. Wraxhall ſays, though Copenhagen is one of the fineſt ports in the world, it can boaſt of little commerce; and yet Coxe and Wraxhall are cotemporary writers. Wraxhall fur⯑ther [75] ſays, the public places are filled with officers, either in the land or ſea-ſervice, and they appear to conſtitute three-fourths of the audience at the play and opera. They have a Daniſh comedy twice a week, and an Italian opera, in the palace, every Saturday.

The palace, which was erected by Chriſtian VI. and was finiſhed in 1740, is a large pile of building, the front of ſtone, and the wings of bricks ſtuccoed. The ſuite of apartments is princely, but the external appear⯑ance more grand than elegant.

The round tower of Trinity church, ſays Dr. Oliver, who was there in the beginning of this century, is a maſter-piece of its kind, and very ſingular. It is round, 150 feet high, and 60 feet diameter, being flat on the top, and ſurrounded with an iron baluſtrade. The aſcent is ſpiral, and without ſteps, from the bot⯑tom to the top, wide enough for two carriages, and ſo eaſy, that a coach and horſes may go up and down again with eaſe. This tower was originally deſigned for an ob⯑ſervatory; but it then ſerved as a parade; for the gentry, when they had a mind to take the air in their coaches, drove to the top, round the ring, and down again.

The police of this city is well regulated, and people may paſs through any part of it, at midnight, with great ſafety. The ſtreets are as quiet at eleven o'clock at night, as in a country village or town, and ſcarce a coach after this is heard to rattle through them.

[76]St. Saviour's church is the moſt magnificent and ele⯑gant of all the churches in Copenhagen. It ſtands in Chriſtianhafen in the Iſle of Amack; and has a beautiful ſteeple, with a ſpiral aſcent to the top on the outſide.

Between Copenhagen and Chriſtianhafen, is a high pillar erected in the middle of the water, on which is a ſtatue, repreſenting a naked female; on her left ſide ſtands the figure of a ſwan, which extends its long neck behind her back, and bringing its head over the right ſhoulder of the ſtatue, ſticks its bill in the mouth of it. This pillar and ſtatue are looked upon as a ſymbolical repreſentation of the city of Copenhagen.

There is a noble foundation for the poor in this city, called Wartow Hoſpital, containing 300 beds for the ſick and poor, and every one, beſides his lodging, has a rix-dollar weekly. A ſmall commodious church ſtands cloſe to the hoſpital, and ſo contrived, that the ſick and bed-ridden may hear divine ſervice and ſermons in their beds.

The royal palace, called Roſenburg, in the weſt quarter of this city, is a grand ſtructure, much too ſplendid and magnificent for a King of Denmark, and has ſome very extenſive [...]nd ornamented gardens, which, in ſummer, ſerve the inhabitants for a public walk. The grand apartment of this palace is hung with tapeſtry, re⯑preſenting the various actions, by ſea and land, which [77] diverſified the ancient wars between the Swedes and Danes; who ſeem always to have had the ſame national rival⯑ſhip and animoſity, as between the French and Engliſh. At one end of this apartment are three ſilver lions, as large as life, who, by their fierceneſs and rudeneſs, ſeem to characteriſe the age in which they were caſt. It is a kind of ſavage magnificence, ſeldom ſeen in the ban⯑queting rooms of the preſent effeminate and luxurious times. In the muſeum of the palace, which conſiſts of eight rooms, is a ſword of Charles XII. of Sweden, the hilt and guard of braſs, and the blade four feet long; and the chair in which Tycho Brahè, the aſtronomer, uſed to ſit. The collection of paintings is very large, and con⯑tains ſome beautiful originals; among a great variety of natural and artificial curioſities. Among the former are:

1. A petrified child, which was cut out of its mother's belly at Sens, in Champagne, in the year 1582, where it was ſuppoſed to have lain 28 years. It is evidently a human foetus, ſays Dr. Oliver, who handled it; its upper part is of a gypſeus nature, not ſo hard as the lower, the thighs and buttocks being as hard and perfect ſtone as can be, of a red colour, and of a grain and ſuperficies ex⯑actly like thoſe taken out of a bladder: purchaſed from Venice, by Frederick III.

2. Two elephants teeth, that weigh 150lb. each.

3. Several heads of hares, with divers ſorts of horns, brought out of Saxony.

4. An egg, ſaid to be laid by a woman, of the ſize of a pullet's egg. This, Ol. Wormius ſays, was ſent [78] him by very good hands, and confirmed by people of credit. He tells us the woman brought forth two, with the uſual pains, her neighbours being called in to her aſſiſtance. The firſt they broke, and found a yolk and a white, as in that of a hen. The ſecond was kept and ſent to him, and is here preſerved.

5. Several large pieces of ſilver ore, dug in Norway, one of which weighed 560lb. four feet ſix inches long, and four feet round, valued at 5,000 crowns. The whole maſs has not above a fourth part of any baſer metal or earth mixed with it.

6. The thigh bone of a human body, three feet three inches long: the head of it, two feet 5 inches round, and the middle, 19 inches and a half about.

7. Two ſcollop ſhells, weighing 224lb. each.

8. A cherry-ſtone, on which ſome hundreds of heads are curiouſly engraved.

Beſides the above, there is in the gardens of the palace a throne made of unicorns horns, on which all the Kings of Denmark are ſeated at their coronation.

The royal library conſiſts of a great variety of books in all languages, well conditioned, and well choſen; the books of each country being placed by themſelves. The room is ſpacious and well built, and has a large gallery, ſupported by pillars, on each ſide. With the addition of Gudius's library from Glucſtadt, it might be reckoned one of the firſt in Europe.

[79]The annual liſt of births in Copenhagen, being on an average 2,830, and that of the deaths 2,955, we may compute that it contains near 80,000 inhabitants.

Elſinoor lies about 20 miles from Copenhagen, is a ſea⯑port town, directly oppoſite to Helſingberg in Sweden, and ſeparated from that by the Sound, or paſſage into the Baltick, which, from town to town, according to Mr. Coxe, is but three miles over, and which he croſſed, though the wind was againſt him, in an hour and a half. From Copenhagen acroſs to Malmoe, in Sweden, is ſix or ſeven leagues.

This town is remarkable for two things, as being the ſcene of Shakeſpere's Hamlet, and the place where Queen Matilda, the ſiſter of our King, George III. of England, was confined. It is well built; the houſes are of brick, ſimilar to thoſe in Holland. Next to Copen⯑hagen, it is the moſt commercial place in Denmark. It contains two churches, and about 5,000 inhabitants, amongſt whom are a conſiderable number of foreign merchants, and the conſuls of the principal nations, trading to the Baltic, to regulate the tolls paid by ſhips, paſſing the Sound (of which I ſhall ſpeak here-after), and to ſee that no injuſtice is done to their country⯑men. The paſſage of the Sound is guarded by the for⯑treſs of Cronberg, ſituated on the edge of a peninſular promontory, the neareſt point of land from the oppoſite coaſt of Sweden. It is ſtrongly fortified, and every [80] veſſel that paſſes, lowers her topſails, and pays a toll. The palace of Cronberg, which ſtands in the fortreſs, is that in which the late unfortunate Queen was impri⯑ſoned in January, 1772.

Adjoining to a royal hunting palace, which ſtands half a mile from Cronberg, is a garden, called Hamlet's Garden, and ſaid to be the very ſpot where his father was murdered. As this is a hiſtory, that will, from Shakeſpere's play, intereſt an Engliſh reader; and as Saxo-Grammaticus, the Daniſh hiſtorian, who relates it, is but in few hands, and has never been tranſlated, ſome little account of this famous prince may not be unaccept⯑able. Saxo-Grammaticus wrote in the 12th century.

Hamlet, thus raiſed to the throne, ſails to England, aſks the King of England's daughter in marriage, but is told ſhe is dead; and adviſed, by the King, to go to Scotland, and addreſs the Scotch Queen Hermetrude, with a view that this lady, who was of a cruel caſt, and abhorred all propoſals of marriage, might order him to be aſſaſſinated, as ſhe had done ſome others before. But Hamlet ſucceeds better, marries her, and returns with her to England, and being there informed by the princeſs to whom he had been betrothed, that her father meditated his death; to avoid danger, cloathed himſelf in armour under his robe; ſlew the King of England, mar⯑ried the princeſs, and ſailed to Denmark with his two wives, but was ſoon after killed in a combat with his uncle by his mother's ſide.

Roſkild was formerly the royal reſidence, and metro⯑polis of Denmark, and contained 27 churches, and as many convents. At preſent it is ſcarce half an Engliſh mile round, and has not more than 1,620 inhabitants. The houſes are brick, and look neat. The only re⯑mains [83] of its original grandeur, are the ruins of the palace, and the cathedral, which is a brick-building with two ſpires, and in which the Kings of Denmark are buried. It was erected by Harold VI. King of England and Den⯑mark, who died in 980, and is interred here. Indeed the church is full of monuments of ſucceeding Kings.

There is a ſpring of ſuch fine, wholeſome water in this place, that ſome is carried daily to Copenhagen, for the uſe of the court.

Odenſee, the capital of the Iſle of Funen, is a city of ſuch high antiquity, that Daniſh antiquarians derive its foundation from Oden, the god of the Gothic nations. It contains about 5,200 inhabitants, who carry on a trade in grain and leather; is a biſhoprick, and has four churches, beſides the cathedral. The King has here a ſmall palace.

Wiburg is the capital of North Jutland, is a biſhop's ſee, and the reſidence of a general-governor. This is one of the moſt ancient cities of the kingdom, and had formerly 12 churches, which are now reduced to three. It has three market-places, and 28 ſtreets.

Sleſwick is the capital of South Jutland, and is the reſidence of the governor and ſtate-officers. It is ſituated in a moſt charming, pleaſant country, and is built in the form of a creſcent; it is between two and [84] three Engliſh miles in length, and contains about 5,630 inhabitants. The houſes are of brick, and, in neatneſs and manner, reſemble a Dutch town. The inhabitants dreſs alſo like the Dutch, and many of them ſpeak that language. Cloſe to Sleſwick is the old palace of Gottorp, formerly the ducal reſidence, but now inhabited by the governor, Prince Charles, of Heſſe Caſſel. It is a large brick-building, ſurrounded by a rampart, and a moat. The city had formerly ſeven pariſh-churches, and ſix convents; but now one can ſcarce trace out the places where many of them ſtood. The cathedral is a grand ſtructure, both within and without, but has neither ſteeple nor tower.

There are many palaces in Denmark. Frederickſ⯑burg is a magnificent ſtructure, ſituated on a hill, a ſmall diſtance from Copenhagen. It is ſpacious on all ſides, and has an exceeding fine proſpect. The garden, which lies below the hill, is very extenſive, and contains a great number of pleaſant walks, ſeveral groves, a la⯑byrinth, a theatre, a great many ſtatues, fountains, and ſummer-houſes, and a fine caſcade. From the palace the deſcent is by two flights of broad ſtone-ſteps to the garden, in which is a menagery, ſtocked with ſeveral uncommon animals, lion, tygers, &c. with an orangery and a yard with pheaſants and falcons. From this palace, a pleaſant avenue, planted with a double row of trees, extends half way to Copenhagen. To this account of Buſching, we will add Wraxhall's, who deſcribes it as a [85] a large chateau, moated round with a triple ditch. It was founded by Frederick the Fourth. It partakes of the Greek and Gothic ſtyles; but, in the front of the grand quadrangle are Tuſcan and Doric pillars, and on the ſummit, ſpires and turrets. Some of the rooms are ſplendid, though furniſhed in the antique taſte, but it is little viſited by the preſent family.

Jagerſburg is a royal hunting ſeat, where the hunting officers reſide, and where is a repoſitory for all hunting implements. The park is rather a wood, or foreſt, very extenſive, and full of game. In the middle is an edifice, called the Hermitage, 30 ells long, and 20 broad, very elegantly decorated. In the loweſt ſtory is a curious machine, by which the dinner, &c. is conveyed up and down, to and from the King's table, in the ſecond ſtory.

The palace of Cronberg ſtands in the fortreſs of that place, about 20 miles from Copenhagen. It is a ſquare Gothic building, of free-ſtone, and was the priſon of the late unfortunate Queen Matilda, the ſiſter of our preſent Sovereign of England.

CHAP. III. Of the People, their Cuſtoms, and Manners.

MOLESWORTH has been always conſidered as the moſt candid and accurate writer on the ſtate of Denmark, at the time in which he wrote, but this was near 100 years ago; and Marſhall declares that almoſt every circumſtance is ſo eſſentially changed ſince his time, that little related by him can be depended upon, as to the ſtate of Denmark at the preſent hour.

By a numeration of the people in 1759, the ſubjects of Denmark, Norway, Holſtein, the iſlands in the Baltick, and the diſtricts of Oldenburgh and Delmenhurſt, in Weſtphalia, amounted to 2,444,000 excluſive of the inhabitants of Iceland, Greenland, and the Daniſh colo⯑nies.

From all the opportunities, ſays Marſhall, which I have had of ſeeing and converſing with the Danes, and which I have done with all ranks, they appear to be a brave, courteous, and humane people. The upper claſs have a high ſpirit, value themſelves upon the titles and privileges they derive from the Crown, and are accordingly fond of ſhew and magnificence. They have [87] as much vivacity as any people in Europe, except the French nobility, and live in a mean between the Engliſh and the Germans, more ſumptuous than the latter, but not with ſuch a general conſiſtency as the former. In their dreſs, and even in their gallantry, they endeavour to imitate the French, though they are a complete contraſt to that nation; and the French lan⯑guage is univerſal among them. In their houſes, they are not only expenſive in the building them, but alſo in furniſhing them, exceeding the Germans, but not equalling the Engliſh. At their tables they reſemble the Germans in cookery, but do not ſit ſo long at their meals. In Germany, four courſes and a deſert, will take up four hours and a half, which in England is diſpatched in one hour; but the Danes ſeldom riſe from table under two hours. Some of the nobility have French cooks, and in their wines are expenſive and curious. Their tables are well covered with fiſh of the beſt ſorts, abun⯑dance of wild fowl, and fine veniſon; but their butchers-meat is not equal to ours. They have hot-houſes and hot walls, fronted with glaſs, and, of courſe, all the luxu⯑ries which theſe afford.

In the ſecond claſs of people, there is a much greater difference between them and the ſame rank in England, than between the Daniſh and Engliſh nobility: they are not ſo comfortable in their circumſtances; ſcarce any of the gentry are maſters of ſuch eſtates, as to put them on [88] a par with the nobles, and, of courſe, they do not make a proportionable appearance.

The lower claſs are ſtill more inferior than the Eng⯑liſh, and cannot be compared to the common people here, either for eaſe or happineſs; yet they are by no means in that ſtate of vaſſalage, as they were in Moleſ⯑worth's time; ſeveral edicts having been publiſhed by the Crown, for reſtraining the ancient villenage; and as to the common people, in towns and cities, they are as free as in other abſolute dominions.

In perſon, the lower claſs is, in general, as well made, and, as ſtout, as the Germans. They make good ſoldiers, and with gentle uſage, are docile and tractable; but, in villages, they are ignorant and clowniſh, yet good huſ⯑bandmen.

The Daniſh army finds employment for young men of ſmall fortune. The employments about court pro⯑vide for others, and many freely embark for the Eaſt and Weſt Indies, are remarkable active and diligent, and often return home, with good fortunes. The gentry ſeem extremely diſpoſed to treat a ſtranger with every mark of urbanity and politeneſs; but an Engliſhman, at court, is at preſent received with great coldneſs.

In their amuſements, the Danes follow the faſhions of the French and Engliſh; cards lead the way, and ſuch [89] ladies as can afford it, have at Copenhagen, their aſ⯑ſemblies almoſt as regularly as any in London. The men are great cheſs-players; billiards and tenis are favourite diverſions. They have a French theatre, and a Daniſh one, where tranſlations from the Engliſh and French are indifferently performed. Attempts have been made for an Italian Opera, but with little ſucceſs.

Copenhagen principally flouriſhes from the reſidence of the court, which is much the moſt brilliant object in Denmark. There are many great officers of ſtate, which, with the numerous inferior ones, and the guards, render the town very gay.

Moleſworth gives us an account of the following cuſ⯑toms and amuſements, which, as they are not noticed or contradicted by later writers, we may ſuppoſe ſtill exiſt, or with little alteration; for we find, in all countries, pro⯑vincial cuſtoms and feſtivities are preſerved for ages; and as they will enliven the ſcene, I ſhall lay them before my reader.

At another ſeaſon, ſwan-hunting is the royal paſtime. Wild ſwans haunt a certain iſland, not far from Copen⯑hagen, and breed there. About the time, when the young ones are near as large as the old, before their feathers are grown long enough to fly, the King, with the queen, ladies, and others of the court, go to the killing of them: the foreign miniſters are uſually invited to take part in this ſport. Every perſon of condition has a pinnace allotted to him; and, when they come near the haunt, they ſurround the place, and incloſe a great multitude of young ſwans, which they deſtroy with guns, till they have killed ſome thouſands. What is killed by [92] the whole company, is brought to the court, which claims the feathers and down, the fleſh being good for nothing.

On Shrove-Tueſday, the King, queen, royal family, home and foreign miniſters, and ſtate-officers that compoſe the court, clothe themſeves in the habit of the North Holland boors, with great trunk-hoſe, ſhort doublets, and large, blue thrum-caps; the ladies in blue petticoats, and odd head-dreſſes, &c. and, thus accoutred, get up in their waggons, a man before and a woman behind, driving themſelves, and go to a country-village, called Amack, about three miles from town, where they dance to the ſound of bag-pipes, and ſqueaking fiddles, and have a country-dinner, which they eat out of earthen and wooden platters, with wooden ſpoons, &c. and, hav⯑ing paſſed the day in theſe diverſions, where all are equal, with little regard to Majeſty, they return home at night in the ſame manner, and are entertained at a comedy and magnificent ſupper and ball, in the ſame dreſs as they wore the whole day.

Every winter, as ſoon as the ſnow is firm enough to bear, the Danes take to their ſledges for amuſement, the King and court firſt giving the example; for ſo great a reſpect do they bear to majeſty, that they never croſs a new bridge, till the king has firſt croſſed it: nay, all the clocks of Copenhagen ſtrike the hours after the court clock. The court then firſt make their appearance in [93] their ſledges, making ſeveral tours about town, in great pomp, with kettle-drums and trumpets; the horſes which draw the ſledges, being richly adorned with trap⯑pings and harneſs, full of ſmall bells, to give warning to ſuch as ſtand in their way. After the court has been thus abroad, the burghers, and others, trot about the ſtreets all night, in their fur-gowns, with each his female in the ſledge with him, and this they eſteem a great and pleaſant amuſement.

In travelling to Frederickſburg, Jagerſburg, and many other places, from Copenhagen, there are two high roads, one for the people, which is commonly bad, and another for the King, in good condition; but others, who can procure a key to the gates, are indulged with paſſing on the latter.

The vehicles, ſays Wraxhall, for travelling, are an in⯑definable ſomewhat, begot by a coach upon a cart, and partaking very much of both kinds; are drawn by four little Daniſh horſes, and, what with whipping and ſpur⯑ring, they make ſhift to travel about four Engliſh miles and a half an hour.

It is a difficult matter, ſays Moleſworth, for ſtrangers to find conveniences of lodging or eating in Denmark; even in Copenhagen, there are few, if any, lodgings to let in private houſes; and, in the taverns, a man muſt be con⯑tented [94] to eat and drink in a public room, with other company, and at the ſame table.

Among all the hardſhips which are impoſed on the peaſantry of Denmark, ſays Moleſworth, that of the obli⯑gation they lie under, of furniſhing the royal family, and all their attendants, with horſes and travelling waggons, is one of the greateſt. Whenever the court travels, the peaſants that lie near the road, or in that diſtrict, are ſummoned to attend, with their horſes and waggons, at certain ſtages, where they are to relieve each other; and this they often do, always at their own expence, for two or three days together; no regard being had to the ſeaſon, which is generally harveſt-time, or to any other conve⯑nience of theſe poor wretches. I have frequently ſeen them, with hundreds of waggons, in a company, attend⯑ing the arrival of the court, bewailing their ſad condi⯑tion; and, as ſoon as their King comes up, and his coaches, with thoſe of his attendants, ſix or eight boors horſes, not much larger then calves, are put to each coach, and every lackey of the King's ſuite then ſeizes on a boor and waggon for his own uſe; when, unleſs the poor, trembling peaſant does every thing to pleaſe his em⯑ployer, by driving on and taking all patiently, without a reply, he is beaten and abuſed. Nor is this only the caſe when the King travels, but when he pleaſes to grant his warrant to any officer or man of rank, that has a journey to make.

[95]The tables of the better ſort are generally well ſerved, but their meat is lean, and, excepting their beaf and veal, ill-taſted. Wether-mutton is very ſcarce, and ſel⯑dom good; wild ducks ſcarcely eatable, and plovers never. Here are no wild pheaſants, woodcocks, rabbits, or fallow-deer. Red deer are the King's game, and not to be purchaſed. Hares, however, are good, and their bacon is excellent. Sea-fiſh is ſcarce, and not good; but river-fiſh makes amends for all, here being the beſt carp, perch, and craw-fiſh that are to be found any where. Fine fruit, ſo far north, is not to be expected: but the gentry, who pride themſelves in their gardens, have ſuch as is tolerable, and have melons, grapes, peaches, and all ſorts of ſallad, very early. Their butter is good, but their cheeſe indifferent, and their cookery far from pleaſing to an Engliſh palate.

Moleſworth gives us the following account of the firſt green gooſe that was ever eaten in Denmark. He ſays, that the common people are mean-ſpirited, and ſo in⯑clined to cheating, that they ſuſpect others of doing the ſame; ſo that, if you offer them a great price for a thing, which they have not been uſed to ſell, they will refuſe to part with it, ſuſpecting that you ſee an advantage in the purchaſe, as yet unknown to them, and which they hope to find out. "Seeing great flocks of green geeſe," ſays his Lordſhip, "in the fields near the town, I ſent to buy ſome; but, they not being uſed to ſell or eat geeſe in that country, till they are full grown, could not [96] be perſuaded to part with one, though double the price of a full-grown gooſe was bid for it. They inquired, Why we wiſhed to buy them? What we meant to do with them? &c. for they would not believe any one would be ſo fooliſh as to eat them, whilſt young and ſmall. However, a week after, an old woman, to whom money had been offered for a dozen, came and brought me four to ſell, ſaying, that neither ſhe nor her geeſe had thriven, ſince ſhe refuſed to ſell them at a good price; for a kite had, the night before, killed eight of her ſtock, and that now the remaining four were at my ſervice. Thus the ſuperſtition of this old woman, occa⯑ſioned the firſt green gooſe to be brought to market; for after that they found the Engliſh fattened them and killed them for the table, the market was never without them; where they will aſk the ſame price for ſtinking meat as for freſh; for lean meat as for fat. The ſure way not to obtain, is to ſeem eager to purchaſe; and indeed, among all claſſes of the people, to aſk a thing importu⯑nately, is the certain method of not having it complied with, though otherwiſe, the perſon aſked would be deſir⯑ous of its being done.

According to lord Moleſworth, the King of Den⯑mark's court, as to pomp and magnificence, can ſcarcely be called a royal one. The luxury and extravagance of ſouthern courts had not, in his time, reached ſo far north. In this court, no enſigns of majeſty appear, let the oc⯑caſion be ever ſo ſolemn, except ſuch as are military. [97] All thoſe which a ſtanding army can afford, ſuch as horſe and foot-guards; trabans, which anſwer to our beef-eaters; kettle-drums, and trumpets, &c. are there in perfection, and in uſe every day, as much as in camp; but badges of peace, as ſwords of ſtate, heralds, maces, chancellor's purſe, &c. are not known.

The King ſits down to dinner with his family and general officers of the army, till his table is full. The Court-mareſchal invites whom he pleaſes to eat with the King, till all have had the honour in turns. A page in livery ſays grace, before and after meat; for no chaplain appears, either here, or in any of the proteſtant courts abroad, but in the pulpit. The attendants are one or two gentlemen, and the reſt livery-ſervants. No ceremony of the knee is uſed to the King. The kettle-drums and trum⯑pets, which are ranged in a large place before the palace, proclaim aloud the very minute when he ſits down to table.

The city of Copenhagen is under very good regula⯑tions. There are ſelect companies appointed to watch and extinguiſh fires; no perſons daring to approach within a certain diſtance, leſt, under a pretence of aſſiſting, they ſhould plunder. Chimney-ſweepers are obliged to keep a regiſter of all chimnies they ſweep, that, in caſe of any accident, thoſe, by whoſe neglect or covetouſneſs it hap⯑pens, may be anſwerable for it. No torches or flambeaus are allowed to be carried in the ſtreets, on account of [98] the great quantities of fir, timber, and the conſtant high winds that are here; inſtead of which, all perſons uſe large, round lanthorns, carried at the end of long ſticks.

Among other good regulations, that of the apothe⯑caries is none of the leaſt commendable; for, no one is permitted to exerciſe this trade, unleſs appointed by the college of phyſicians, and confirmed by the King him⯑ſelf. There are but two allowed in the whole city of Copenhagen, and one to every other conſiderable town. Their ſhops and drugs are carefully inſpected twice or thrice a year by the magiſtrates, accompanied by the phyſicians; and ſuch drugs as are of no efficacy, or ſpoilt by age, are taken from them, and flung away. The prices of theſe drugs are alſo fixed, ſo that a child may be ſent to an apothecary's ſhop without being im⯑poſed on; and nothing is ſold, that is not exceedingly good, and at very moderate rates. They ſell all for ready money, yet keep an account of what they ſell, to whom, and by whoſe preſcription; ſo that the great miſ⯑chief of accidental or wilful poiſoning, is either prevented, or, if practiſed, eaſily diſcovered and puniſhed.

They are much addicted, ſays Moleſworth, to drink⯑ing, and the liquors moſt in faſhion, in his time, were Rheniſh-wine, cherry-brandy, and all ſorts of French wines. The men are fond of them, and the women do not refuſe them. The poor, who are able to indulge, do it in bad beer, and Daniſh brandy, diſtilled from barley.

[99]Apoplexies and the falling ſickneſs are the epidemical diſtempers here; and one ſhall ſcarce paſs through Copenhagen, without ſeeing one or two poor creatures in a fit, in the ſtreets, with a circle of gazers and aſſiſt⯑ants about them. It is very uſual here to have them die of a ſlacht, as they call it, which is an apoplexy, proceeding from trouble of mind; but, on the other hand, few, or none, are afflicted with coughs, catarrhs, or conſumptions, ſo common in this country; ſo that, in Denmark, the preachers are never diſturbed at church, as in England.

Their marriages, ſays Moleſworth, are uſually pre⯑ceded by contracts, which will laſt, ſometimes, three or four or more years, before they proceed to a public wedding by the miniſters; though often the young couple grow better acquainted before theſe formalities are diſpatched. The gentry give portions which their daughters; but the burghers and peaſants, if able, give cloaths, furniture, and a great wedding-dinner, but no⯑thing more, till they die.

Sumptuous burials and monuments are general among the nobility; and it is uſual to keep the corpſe of a perſon of quality in a vault, or the chancel of ſome church, for ſeveral years, till a fit opportunity offers to to celebrate the funeral. The poorer ſort are buried in great, thick cheſts; and in the towns, there are about [100] a dozen of common mourners, belonging to each pariſh, whoſe buſineſs it is, to carry and attend them to their graves.

CHAP. IV. Of their Trade and Manufactures.

HAVING already ſpoken of the trade of Norway, I ſhall confine myſelf to the kingdom of Denmark, which is extremely well ſituated for commerce, her harbours well adapted for ſhips of great burden, and her ſeamen very expert in navigation. But Denmark poſ⯑ſeſſes very few commodities for exportation. It is, how⯑ever, very rich in timber, and other materials for ſhip-building, with which it ſupplies other nations, beſides its own. There is no compariſon between the preſent trade of Denmark, and what it was 50 years ago. Scarcely any thing has been omitted by government, that could promote and enlarge its commerce. Beſides the regiſtry of ſhips, and the increaſe of the number and tonnage of them, there have been numerous advantages given to trade, which are ſhewn in moſt of the branches of the nation's dealing with other countries. They have an Eaſt India-company, whoſe trade is increaſing, and [101] profits conſiderable and regular. Their Weſt-India colonies thrive more than ever, and a riſe in the crown-revenues, and an increaſe of ſhipping and population, is the beſt criterion of an improvement of their general commerce.

In 1755, an African company was eſtabliſhed, and in 1736, a loan-bank was erected, where great or ſmall ſums, not under 100 rix-dollars, are lent, on pledges, at four per cent.

They export, now, fir, and other timber, black cattle, ſtock-fiſh, tallow, hides, train-oil, tar, pitch, iron, and furs, and import ſalt, wine, brandy, and ſilk, from France, Portugal, and Italy; broad-cloths, clocks, cabinet-work, locks, &c. from England. They poſſeſs the iſlands of St. Croix, St. Thomas, and the ſmall iſland of St. John, in the Weſt-Indies; which are free ports, renowned for ſmuggling, and the fort of Chriſtianburg, on the coaſt of Guinea, and carry on a conſiderable com⯑merce with the Mediterranean.

Of the Baltick ſea they have in a great meaſure the command, being poſſeſſed of the paſſage of the Sound, which is a narrow ſtreight, between two and three miles over, between Sweden and Denmark, through which all ſhips paſs and repaſs, to and from the Baltick. This paſs is guarded by the fortreſs of Cronberg. A toll is paid to the Crown of Denmark, by all ſhips that paſs this way. [102] This toll ſeems to have taken its riſe, and to have been firſt laid on, by conſent of the traders into the Baltick, for the maintenance of light-houſes, at certain places on that coaſt. And though there is another paſſage into this ſea, by a ſtreight between the iſlands of Funen and Seeland, called the Great-belt, yet, that was diſuſed, and ſhips, by the ſame conſent, were obliged to paſs the Sound, that they might all pay their quota towards the ſupport of ſuch lights. But there being no fixed rule or treaty, with reſpect to the ſums to be paid by the many nations that paſſed this way, the Danes, in proceſs of time, grew arbitrary, and exacted more or leſs, accord⯑ing to the ſtrength, or weakneſs, of thoſe they had to deal with, or according to their friendſhip with thoſe ſtates, to whom the ſeveral ſhips belonged. Many have been the treaties reſpecting this toll within theſe 200 years; and the King of Denmark's title to the right of exacting it, is now ſo ſlightly grounded, and his not having poſſeſ⯑ſion of the caſtle of Helſingburg, in Sweden, on the other ſide, which once he had, that it is continued only by favour, and the public law of Europe. It has been generally aſſerted, that the caſtle of Cronberg guards the Sound; and that all ſhips muſt, on account of the ſhoal-water and currents, ſteer ſo near the batteries, as to be expoſed to their fire: but this is not the caſe; on account of the numerous and oppoſite currents, the ſafeſt paſſage is near the fortreſs, but the water, in any part, is of ſufficient depth for veſſels to keep at a diſtance from the batteries; and the largeſt ſhips can even ſail cloſe to [103] the coaſt of Sweden: but the ſeveral nations conſent to pay a ſmall toll, from one to one and a half per cent. on their cargoes, and every ſhip lowers her top-ſails as ſhe paſſes. The Danes, however, are obliged to take the maſter of the veſſel's word, for the quality and quantity of the lading, and find it prudent not to be too ſtrict in their enquiries; but, if the Engliſh and Dutch were to refuſe payment, other ſtates would ſoon do the ſame, and the chain would be broken. To prevent veſſels paſſing by the Greater or Leſſer Belt, without paying equal toll, men of war are there ſtationed, ſo chat the profits of the Sound amount to about 100,000 l. a year.

In the laſt century, there were ſcarce any manufactures carried on in Denmark, but now there are artiſts of great eminence at Copenhagen, and every branch of mecha⯑nic arts is well executed throughout the kingdom. Gold and ſilver-lace, ſilk ſtuffs and velvets, cloths, cotton and woollen ſtuffs, ſtockings, tapeſtry, hats, baſtard and genuine porcelain and fire-arms, are there manufactured. There are alſo paper and copper-mills, different ſorts of iron-wares made, ſilk and cotton printing-houſes, with manufactories of ſoap, ſteel, ſtarch, glue, lacker, tobacco, ſugar, &c.

In 1738, a general warehouſe or magazine was opened at the Exchange, in Copenhagen, to which manufactu⯑rers bring all the wares, which they cannot diſpoſe of in other towns, and are paid ready money for them; and [104] from this warehouſe the goods are delivered out on credit to retailers.

The poſt-office is on a very regular footing. In all towns the couriers for letters go out and come in twice a week. There are travelling poſt-carriages; and at every town, a perſon may hire one for himſelf at a rea⯑ſonable fixed rate. The roads are meaſured all over the kingdom, and, at every quarter of a Daniſh mile, the ground is a little raiſed, and a ſtone erected on it.

The Danes are no proficients in the fine arts, not having encouragement enough to make any progreſs. The kingdom, ſays Marſhall, is too poor to yield a mar⯑ket even to firſt portrait-painters; the only art that makes any decent figure at Copenhagen, is muſic; where ſome very capital German and Italian performers meet with pretty good encouragement.

CHAP. V. Of their Languages, Learning, and Religion.

THE Daniſh language is merely a dialect of the Swediſh and Norwegian, and the inhabitants of theſe three northern kingdoms underſtand each other, excepting in ſome few words and phraſes. With regard to [105] the pronunciation it has a perfect affinity with the Eng⯑liſh, is not unlike the whining, unpleaſing, tone of the Iriſh; has many monoſyllables, the ſame with the Engliſh, in which our's originated. The court, and many burghers, ſpeak Dutch in common converſation, and French to ſtrangers, and the nobility have made great advances in Engliſh, which is now taught as a branch of polite and neceſſary education. A company of Engliſh players occaſionally viſit Copenhagen, and find good encou⯑ragement.

The number of learned men in Denmark is as conſi⯑derable as in any other country in Europe of the ſame extent, and where the ſciences are in a flouriſhing ſtate. There is ſcarce any branch of literature, in which men of genius have not acquitted themſelves with honour. This is the language of Buſching; but Marſhall ſays, learning of all kinds is but at a low ebb. Denmark certainly produced formerly very learned men, for inſtance, the famous mathematician Tycho Brahe, of whom they are now ſo proud, as to preſerve, amongſt the moſt va⯑luable of their curioſities, the chair in which he uſed to ſit, when he made his aſtronomical obſervations at Ura⯑nibourg, and the wood which compoſes it, is held in reverence. They can boaſt alſo of the Bartholines for phyſic and anatomy, and Borichius, who bequeathed a conſiderable legacy to the univerſity of Copenhagen. Their Icelandic authors I have ſpoken of, when treating [106] of that iſland; but I muſt not omit Chriſtian Oeder, to whom we are indebted for the Flora Danica.

The Kings of Denmark have occaſionally deputed, and ſtill continue to ſend, at their expence, learned men through their own territories, and into various parts of the world, for the purpoſe of extending the bounds of knowledge.

Beſides the univerſity at Copenhagen, which con⯑ſiſts of four ſpacious colleges, that of Kiel, at Soroe, for noblemen's children, and the Gymnaſia, or ſeminaries at Odenſee and Altona, there are ſeveral ſchools well en⯑dowed in country-towns, where the maſters are not only liberally provided for, but the ſcholars are alſo inſtructed, and partly maintained, gratis. In this univerſity, the profeſſors have liberal ſalaries, and many of the ſtudents have apartments and inſtruction free.

At Copenhagen is alſo a royal academy of ſciences, eſtabliſhed in 1743, who have publiſhed 15 volumes of their tranſactions; and a ſociety for the improvement of northern hiſtory and languages. Here is likewiſe two ſchools for the children of the nobility and gentry, whoſe fortunes are too circumſcribed to bear the expence of a proper education, one is for boys, the other for girls; at that for boys, the day ſcholars pay only 6l. a year, and the boarders 20l. They learn hiſtory, geography, and arithmetic, are inſtructed in the articles of their religion; [107] and have maſters for the German, French, and Engliſh languages.

Lutheraniſm is the eſtabliſhed religion of the country; but, in Copenhagen, the Calviniſts have a church to themſelves; the Papiſts frequent the chapels of foreign Roman-catholic miniſters, and the Jews have a ſyna⯑gogue. It is a bleſſing which Denmark enjoys, that the people, in general, have but one faith, which prevents all factions and diſputes about religion. So that the Prince is little inconvenienced; for as long as the prieſts are dependent on the Crown, and the people, in matters of conſcience, governed by the prieſts, as is the caſe here, the Sovereign may be as arbitrary as he pleaſes: and, in conſideration of this advantage, the clergy are much favoured, and ſuffered to ſink into bigotry. The clergy, however, are not admitted into civil affairs, nor have they any thing to do with government; the pulpit only is left free to them, and here they tyrannize, not only taking vaſt liberties of reprehending vices, but cenſuring and laſhing particular perſons of the higheſt rank, which is paſſed unnoticed, whilſt they interfere not with ſtate-matters. The common people admire them for this bold⯑neſs, and the beſt part of their income ariſing from the voluntary contributions of the people, they take care to cultivate the good opinion of the mob; whom they keep, at the ſame time, in awe, by the practice of con⯑feſſion before they adminiſter the ſacrament, which every one that receives is obliged to undergo. They do not [108] read their ſermons as in England, but get them by heart, and pronounce them with a great deal of action. Holy-days and feaſt-days are obſerved as ſolemnly as ſundays; and in Copenhagen the city-gates are ſhut during ſervice, ſo that no one can go in or out; the common claſs of people are great frequenters of the churches, which are kept much more decently and cleanly than with us. In⯑deed, though they have thrown off the Pope's ſupre⯑macy, they ſtill reſerve the gaudineſs of their churches, their crucifixes, and ſome of their ceremonies. They are all great lovers of organs, and have many very good ones, and ſkilful organiſts, who entertain the congrega⯑tion with muſic, for half an hour, either before or after ſervice.

There are ſix biſhops in Denmark, but no archbi⯑ſhops. Theſe are appointed by the King, but, accord⯑ing to Moleſworth, have no temporalities, keep no ec⯑cleſiaſtical courts, have no cathedrals, with deans, pre⯑bends, &c. but are only primi inter pares, having rank above the inferior clergy of their province, and the in⯑ſpection into their doctrine and manners. Buſching ſays, each biſhoprick has a ſmall cathedral, and four or five canons; one of theſe biſhops is a metropolitan, viz. the biſhop of Iceland, whoſe income is 1000l. Engliſh; the reſt from 600l. to 400l. They are allowed to have two or three pariſhes each, but their habit is common with other miniſters, namely, a plaited, black gown, with ſhort ſleeves, a large ſtiff ruff about the neck, and a [109] cap with edges like our maſters of arts; except that theirs is round, whereas ours is ſquare.

The other clergy are provoſts or archdeacons, prieſts, and chaplains. Of provoſts there are 160, who annually viſit the preachers and ſchoolmaſters within their archdeaconry, decide diſputes between the clergy and their people, and appear at the provincial ſynod twice a year. Theſe provoſts have a rix-dollar, about 4s. 6d. ſterling yearly, from every church in their juriſ⯑diction. Next to theſe are the preachers, or pariſh-prieſts, who receive their ſalaries, as with us, in glebe, tithes and ſurplice-fees, and, in ſome places, from vo⯑luntary contributions. Theſe livings ſeldom exceed in value 400l. ſterling, for all ſhort of 60l. except in Jut⯑land, where there are a few, ſcarce worth 20l. The aſſiſtants to theſe preachers are the chaplains. For every large pariſh, has, beſides the pariſh-church, one or more additional chapels of eaſe. A preacher's widow receives half the income of her huſband's living, from the ſuc⯑ceſſor, the firſt year (Coxe ſays the whole), and an eighth part for the remainder of her life. In the princi⯑pal town of every dioceſe, there is alſo a widow's box, in which every preacher puts in a certain ſum, and his wife, if ſhe ſurvives him, enjoys an annuity in propor⯑tion to what he has contributed. Moſt of their clergy underſtand Engliſh, and admit that they draw the beſt of their divinity from Engliſh books. They hate a Calviniſt as much as a Papiſt, but have great reſpect for [110] the church of England—ſay, there is little difference between their doctrine and ours, and wiſh for a union with us.

CHAP. VI. Of their Government, Laws, Forces, &c.

TILL the revolution in 1660, the crown of Den⯑mark was elective, and the government a kind of ariſtocracy, but in that year, it was changed to as abſolutely a monarchy as any in the world. The Sove⯑reign is now declared as independent upon earth, acknow⯑ledge no higher power than God; he has an unlimited authority, to make, alter, repeal, and diſpenſe with laws; can make peace and declare war, form alliances, and levy taxes; in ſhort, he enjoys all the rights and pre⯑rogatives which an hereditary, abſolute, and deſpotic king can enjoy.

Five perſons compoſe the King's privy-council. Four of them are conſtantly at court, and the fifth at Ham⯑burgh, by the weekly advices of whom, the others gene⯑rally regulate all their deliberations. Hamburgh is a kind of commonwealth of its own, but the kings of [111] Denmark ſtill lay claim to certain privileges within its walls.

The Danes are divided into nobles, burghers, and peaſants, and the nobleſſe is diſtinguiſhed by the appel⯑lations of the higher and lower nobility. In the rank of higher nobles are counts and barons, for there are no dukes or princes. Counts have the right of primo geni⯑ture. Their younger ſons and daughters are ſtiled barons and baroneſſes: in their counties they have the right of patronage, and of appointing a judge and ſecretary, from whoſe ſentence there is no appeal but to the ſu⯑preme court of judicature. They pay no contributions or tithes for their eſtates in chief, and are allowed 300 acres of land, over and above, free from all impoſitions. Barons have ſimilar privileges, only not ſo extenſive. Lords of manors, have, beſides their manors, 200 acres of land, within two miles of their manors, free from contribution. Burghers are the freemen of towns; and peaſants anſwer to our freeholders and copyholders.

There are here two orders of knighthood, the prin⯑cipal is that of the Elephant, whoſe enſigns are, a ſilver ſtar on the left breaſt, and a white enamelled elephant, hung to a blue ribband, worn over the left ſhoulder to the right ſide. The ſecond is the Danebrog order, whoſe badge is a gold croſs, enamelled, and ſet with diamonds, hanging to a watered, white ribband, with a red border, [112] worn over the right ſhoulder to the left ſide, and a ſilver-ſtar.

The country is divided into general governments, called Stifts-Amts, and the Stifts-Amtmann, or governor, is always a perſon of diſtinction, generally a knight of one of the orders, and has authority over the revenues, towns, and country, within his juriſdiction. Under the Stifts-Amtmann are the Amtmanner, or prefects, who are alſo noblemen. The civil government in the cities and poſt-towns is lodged in a burgo-maſter and council, but in ſmaller towns in the Byevogt, or King's head-borough.

The ſalaries of the judges are but ſmall, but do not conſiſt of fees. Every man may, if he pleaſes, plead his own cauſe, in any of the courts; but the poor, and ſuch as cannot ſpeak for themſelves, have advocates ap⯑pointed for them: inſomuch that the charges of the law are ſo eaſy, that a complaint may go through all the courts for leſs than 12l. ſterling. The ſmallneſs of the expence, however, is no encouragement to thoſe that love going to law, for the laws themſelves provide effectu⯑ally againſt the miſchief, and take away the very root of litigiouſneſs, being ſo plain and clear, that a trouble⯑ſome perſon never finds his account in promoting vexa⯑tious ſuits, but meets with all the diſappointments one would wiſh him.

[113]Advocates, or counſellors, are not regularly bred as with us, but any one may take up the profeſſion that pleaſes. The ſupreme court of judicature, which I have mentioned, is at Copenhagen, where the king ſits ſometimes in perſon, and is always compoſed of the prime nobility of the kingdom.

In criminal matters, ſuch great ſeverity is practiſed, that high-treaſon is never heard of; there are no clip⯑pers or coiners, no robbers on the highway, nor houſe-breakers; the moſt uſual capital crimes are manſlaughter and ſtealing, on which occaſion the criminal is beheaded with a ſword, very dextrouſly by a headſman, at one ſtroke, who is, from a variety of offices which he under⯑takes, generally very rich, though no one will be ſeen in his company. He empties the neceſſary-houſes, and removes dead dogs and horſes out of houſes and ſtables. No Daniſh ſervant will do this, but the headſman un⯑dertakes it, and performs it by an under-ſervant called a Racker, and has his own price for ſo doing. All miſ⯑demeanours are puniſhed by ſervitude in chains, for a certain length of time.

I muſt not omit to take notice, on the authority of lord Moleſworth, that, in this country, it is only the nobility with titles that have the liberty of making a will, to diſpoſe of any eſtate, otherwiſe than as the law ſhall, of courſe, direct; and that ſuch muſt be approved and ſigned by the King, during the life of the teſtator.

[114]There is no buying or ſelling of land in this country; but ſhould a perſon, poſſeſſing an eſtate, wiſh to leave the country altogether; if he can find a purchaſer for his land, he is at liberty to ſell; but, one third part of ſuch purchaſe-money is the property of the King.

The revenue of the Crown ariſes from taxes, cuſtoms, and crown-lands, the groſs receipt of which amounted, in 1769, to 1,252,454l. and the expenditure was 936,130l. of which the army eſtimates come to 350,000l. and thoſe of the navy to 180,000l. The national debt, in 1771, was 3,418,000l. the intereſt of which was diſ⯑charged by an annual payment of 131,392l. which muſt be added to the yearly expenditure. This revenue com⯑pared to that of England is very ſmall, but in Denmark, where every commodity is very cheap, it is an immenſe ſum. The army, if ſubſidies be reckoned, as the King finds only arms, to vaſt numbers, coſts little or nothing; and the navy is maintained at a very eaſy rate. The num⯑ber on conſtant pay, during peace, is not large; and the reſt are retained by a month's pay in the year, to be ready at call; ſo that the expence of the navy is little more than the building of ſhips, and providing of ſtores.

The army is compoſed of the troops of Denmark and Holſtein, and thoſe of Norway. Thoſe of the two former amount to 67,000 horſe and foot; thoſe of the latter to 31,000; in the whole, 98,000.

[115]From their inſular ſituation, the Danes have always excelled as a maritime people. The greateſt part of the Daniſh navy is ſtationed in the harbour of Copenhagen, which lies within the fortifications; but the depth of water being only 20 feet, the ſhips do not take in their lower tier of guns till out of port. The number of regiſtered ſeamen are 40,000. Each receives 8 s. a year, as long as he ſends a certificate of his being alive, but is ſubject to a recall in caſe of war: the marines are in number 800, and the ſhips as follows; 38 of the line, and about 20 frigates.

The chief nurſery for the officers of the navy is the academy of marine cadets, where 60 are maintained and inſtructed at the expence of the Crown. Every year they make a cruize on board a frigate. Other youths are admitted into this academy, at the expence of their friends.

CHAP. I. Of the Country, Villages, People, Houſes, Employments, &c.

America, in general, is not a mountainous country, yet, has the greateſt mountains in the world, and is better watered. In North America, part of which we are now going to treat of, the great river Miſſiſippi, riſing from unknown ſources, runs an immenſe courſe, from north to ſouth, and receives the vaſt influx of the Ohio and Ouabache, and other immenſe rivers, ſcarcely in⯑ferior to the Rhine or the Danube, navigable almoſt to their very ſources, and laying open the inmoſt receſſes of this continent. Near the heads of theſe, are five vaſt lakes, or rather ſeas of freſh water running into each other, and all communicating with the ocean, by the river St. Laurence, which paſſes through them. The eaſtern ſide of North America, beſides the noble rivers Hudſon, Delaware, Suſquehanna, Patowmack, ſup⯑plies ſeveral others of great depth, length, and commo⯑dious navigation. Many parts of the ſettlements are ſo interſected with navigable rivers and creeks, that the planters may be ſaid, without exaggeration, to have each a harbour at his own door.

The Labrador coaſt, which is the country of the Eſkimaux Indians, and lies near the north pole, we have treated of in the firſt volume of this work; that which we are now going to deſcribe, belongs to the [118] Engliſh, having been originally ſettled by the French, but by them ceded to us.

The aborigines of America, throughout the whole extent of the two vaſt continents, which they inhabit, and amongſt the infinite number of nations and tribes, into which they are divided, differ very little from each other in their manners and cuſtoms; and they all form a very ſtriking picture of the moſt diſtant antiquity.

When the Europeans firſt came among them, they found the people quite naked, except thoſe parts which is common for the moſt uncultivated people to conceal. Since that time, they have generally a coarſe blanket to cover them, which they buy from us. The whole faſhion of their lives is of a piece, hardy, poor, and ſquallid. Their only occupation is hunting. Agri⯑culture is left to the women. Merchandize they con⯑temn; but as I ſhall have occaſion to deſcribe them more particularly, I will not anticipate what I ſhall be obliged to repeat.

The firſt land on the approach to Canada, in the great Atlantic ocean, is the iſland of Newfoundland, be⯑longing to the Engliſh, ſituated between 47 and 52 de⯑grees north latitude. This iſland is of a triangular form, about 350 miles long from north to ſouth, and about 200 miles broad at the baſe, or broadeſt part from eaſt to weſt, and is about 7 leagues diſtant from the continent.

[119]Notwithſtanding it lies more to the ſouthward than England, the winters are much colder, and the earth is covered with ſnow, every year, for four or five months; ſo that it is ſcarce habitable when the ſun is in the ſouth⯑ern ſigns. This muſt be owing to its vicinity to a vaſt, frozen continent, over which the north-weſt wind blow⯑ing for many hundred miles, makes the countries that lie on that ſide of the Atlantic, much colder than thoſe on this ſide, in the ſame latitudes. At midſummer, how⯑ever, it is much hotter there than with us. The ſea⯑ſons, however, after all, are very temperate, neither are there any great extremities of heat and cold. It is a healthy place, and agrees very well with Engliſh conſti⯑tutions. The ſoil is exceedingly fruitful, and, without any art or cultivation, produces plants, fruits, and grain, fit for man and beaſt. Bilberries, barberries, raſpberries, cherries, gooſeberries, ſtrawberries, white and red, pears, filberds, &c. grow in ſuch plenty, that a man may ſooner tire himſelf with eating, than ſearching for them. Wheat, bailey, rye, peaſe, and vetches, were found in the country, when it was firſt diſcovered. In ſhort, there is ſcarce any fruit, root, pulſe, or plant, that will flouriſh in England, that will not thrive here. The highlands are clothed with woods that preſerve their ver⯑dure all the winter, and the plains are watered with ponds, brooks, and rivers, which refreſh the meadows, and make the graſs high and rank.

[120]The animals of the iſland are buffaloes, deer, hares, foxes, ſquirrels, wolves, bears, amphibious beavers, and others. Of ſmall birds, and wild fowl, they have the ſame as with us, with the addition of the penguin: and their harbours and rivers are well ſtocked with a variety of fiſh. All the world knows the reputa⯑tion of Newfoundland for cod; but the great rarity of all animals, is the mermaid; which, if we believe the word of Captain Whitburn, who wrote an account of this iſland, in the laſt century, is an inhabitant of theſe ſeas. He affirms that as he was ſtanding one day, early in the morning, at St. John's harbour, he ſaw a creature making very ſwiftly towards him, which by the eyes, noſe, chin, ears, neck, forehead, and in a word, by all the upper parts, which were very well proportioned, ap⯑peared to be a woman. The hair, indeed, was to be excepted; for inſtead of that, there were, all round about, upon the head, as it were, blue ſtreaks, which much reſembled hair, and hung down to the neck. The captain ſays, he looked at it ſtedfaſtly, and ſo did another of his company, that ſtood not far from him, and ſtaid till it came within the length of a long pike from him, and then he retreated. When the creature ſaw him withdrawing, it turned about alſo, and made away, which gave him an opportunity of viewing the ſhoulders and back parts of it, down to the waiſt. From the middle, to the lower part, (to uſe his own words) it went pointing, in proportion like a broad-hooked arrow; but how it was in the fore-part of the body, [121] from the neck and ſhoulders downwards, he could not diſcern, becauſe it did not advance towards him, ſo much above the water, as it appeared when it went away. This Syren had a mind to the Captain's company in ſome palace or other, within the dominions of Neptune, but he (though otherwiſe of good breeding) refuſed the favour, and ſlighted her, knowing there was no good wine in that country, but a guzzling of ſalt-water, which kind of drinking-bout would have coſt him his life, and deprived him of chriſtian burial. She had ſhewn him the charms of her face, but thought him unworthy of thoſe of her voice, which the poets of old have ſo wonderfully extolled. But to be ſerious, this ſame creature came ſwiftly to the ſide of a boat, in which were ſome of the Captain's men, and endeavoured to get into it. The fellows were ſcared at the ſight, and ready to leap out of the boat, when they perceived it attempting to get in. One of them, however, recovered ſpirit enough to manage his oar, with which he ſtruck the Syren ſuch a blow acroſs the head, as to make her let go her hold, and drop into the water. This did not kill her, for ſhe came up afterwards to ſome boats in the harbour, which, being near the ſhore, the men got out and ran away. As a man could have no intereſt in forming this ſtory, it may be credited as well as many other wonderful accounts of ſtrange monſters in the world.

[122]Whether there were any original natives of this iſland, we cannot take upon us to ſay; when it was firſt diſcovered, the Engliſh ſaw ſome people on ſhore, painted with oker, and cloathed with ſtag-ſkins (formed into a ſort of gowns) that reached to half way the leg, the ſleeves coming down half way the arm, and beaver-ſkins about their neck. They were bare-legged, and moſt of them bare-footed. Their heads were uncovered. They wore their hair pretty long, a great lock behind, plaited with feathers, with a feather in it, ſtanding upright, on the crown of the head, and a ſmall lock plaited before. Their hair was of different colours; and their cloaths, as well as their bodies, were painted red.

Whether theſe were natives of the iſland, or wanderers from other parts, is unknown; but, at preſent, there do not ſeem to be any ancient inhabitants. The iſland is over-run by the Eſkimaux Indians, of whom we have treated; and as to Europeans, there do not remain, in the winter, above 1000 families, in the towns of Pla⯑centia, Bonaviſta, and St. John.

The ſmall iſlands of St. Pierre and Miquelon, ſituated to the ſouthward of Newfoundland, in the year 1763, when the iſland was ceded to us, were reſerved to France, on condition they ſhould erect no fortifications there, nor keep more than 50 ſoldiers to inforce the police. By this treaty, they are at liberty to fiſh in the Gulph of St. Lawrence; but not within three leagues of any of [123] the coaſts belonging to England, and are permitted to dry their nets on the northern more of the iſland.

The great bank of Newfoundland, ſo renowned for its cod-fiſhery, is a ſhoal, or properly a great mountain, hid under water, about 20 leagues from ſhore, extend⯑ing 150 leagues from north to ſouth, beginning in 41 degrees north latitude. Its great width, from eaſt to weſt, is about 90 leagues. The anchorage here is from 25 to 60 fathoms.

Great-Britain and North America, at the loweſt com⯑putation, employ annually 3,000 ſail of ſmall veſſels in this fiſhery, on board of which, and on ſhore, to cure and pack the fiſh, are upwards of 10,000 people, and it is an excellent nurſery for ſeamen. The cod we ſell abroad from this fiſhery, yields full, to us, 300,000l. a year.

Every thing in the cod, while freſh, is good; but the beſt parts of it, viz. the head, the tongue, the liver, as it takes more ſalt to preſerve theſe, than they would be worth ſalted, are thrown away. The largeſt cod, ſays Charlevoix, I ever ſaw on the bank, was not three feet long. It is a very voracious fiſh, and we often found in their ſtomachs pieces of broken pots, and bits of iron and glaſs. The cod can turn itſelf inſide out, like a pocket, and it is thus that it frees itſelf of any thing that troubles it. This fiſhing ſeaſon is from the beginning of May, to the end of Auguſt.

[124]We have more than once, continues this author, had the diverſion of ſeeing a fight between a whale and the ſword-fiſh, and nothing is more entertaining. The ſword-fiſh is as thick as a cow, ſeven or eight feet long, gradually leſſening to the tail. It takes its name from its weapon, a kind of ſword, three feet long, and four inches wide, fixed above its noſe, and having a row of teeth on each ſide an inch long, at an equal diſtance from each other. This fiſh is good with any ſauce, and its head better eating than a calf's head. It is bigger and ſquarer.

The whale and the ſword-fiſh never meet without fighting, and the latter, they ſay, is always the aggreſſor. Sometimes two ſword-fiſhes join againſt a whale, and then it is not an equal match. The whale has no weapon but its tail, which to make uſe of, it plunges its head under water, and if it can ſtrike its enemy with a blow of its tail, it is ſure to kill it; but the ſword-fiſh is dexterous enough to ſhun it, inſtantly falls on the whale, and runs its weapon into its back; but as it ſeldom reaches the fat, it does not materially hurt the whale. When the whale ſees the ſword-fiſh dart, it plunges, but the ſword-fiſh purſues, and obliges it to appear again. Then the fight begins again, and continues till the ſword-fiſh loſes ſight of the whale, which fights always retreating, and ſwims beſt on the ſurface of the water.

[125]Cape Breton is an iſland, about 120 miles long, and 50 broad, a barren, deſart land, affording ſcarce any trees or herbage; lying between Newfoundland and Nova Scotia; the chief town of which is Louiſburgh. It has been taken and retaken by the French and Engliſh more than once; is at preſent in poſſeſſion of the Engliſh, but the town of Louiſburgh, which was once well for⯑tified by the French, is now diſmantled.

The iſland of St. John, in the Gulph of St. Lawrence, is alſo an Engliſh iſland, 60 miles long, and between 30 and 40 broad, with many fine rivers. On the reduction of Cape Breton, in 1758, the inhabitants, in number about 4,000, ſubmitted to the Britiſh arms, It is a pleaſant, fertile place, and ſettled by Engliſh families; many tracks of land being given to the Engliſh officers, at the peace of 1763.

The Gulph of St. Lawrence is 80 leagues long, in which, about half-way up, are two rocks, riſing about 60 feet per⯑pendicular above the ſea; the largeſt of which is not above two or three hundred paces in circumference. They ſtand cloſe to each other, and what is remarkable their ſurface and ſides are ſo covered with the dung of birds, that we cannot ſee their colour. They have been often viſited, and boats have been there loaded with birds eggs. The ſtench of theſe rocks is almoſt inſupportable, and it is wonder⯑ful that, in ſuch a multitude of neſts, every bird imme⯑diately finds its own. On firing a gun, this flying com⯑monwealth [126] is alarmed, and there is formed, above the two iſlands, a thick cloud of theſe birds, two or three leagues round.

The gulph, or river, at the entrance, is 30 leagues wide, and adjoining, is the Bay of Gaſpe, in which is a natural curioſity, viz. a ſteep rock, 30 fathoms long, 10 high, and 4 broad, called the Pierced Iſland, which looks like an old wall, and has in the midſt of it an opening like an arch, through which a boat with its ſails up may paſs; and not far from the iſland of Miſcou is another curious production of nature in this gulph. There riſes out of the ſea a ſpring of freſh water, which makes a jet above the ſea-water pretty high, like a fountain.

In the gulph of St. Lawrence are ſome good har⯑bours, and ſome few iſlands, one of which, Anticoſto, is 40 leagues long, but very barren, and without a har⯑bour. As ſoon as this iſland is paſſed, the River St. Lawrence narrows, ſo that land may be ſeen on both ſides. One hundred and ten leagues from the ſea, the water, as at Woolwich, on the Thames, is a little brackiſh; and, at the entrance of the two canals, that form the iſland of Orleans, a little below Quebec, which ſtands on this river, and where it is about one mile acroſs; I ſay, at the entrance of the two canals there is a phe⯑nomenon pretty difficult to explain, eſpecially if we con⯑ſider its great rapidity, notwithſtanding its breadth. The tide flows here regularly five hours, and ebbs ſeven; at Ta⯑douſſac, [127] below this, it ebbs and flows ſix hours; and the higher we go up the river, the more the flood di⯑miniſhes, and the ebb increaſes, till we come 20 leagues above Quebec, when it flows three hours, and ebbs nine. When it is half flood in the port of Tadouſſac, it is but juſt beginning to flow at Checoutimi, 25 leagues higher up the river Saguenay, at the mouth of which Tadouſſac ſtands, and yet it is high water at the three places at the ſame time. This happens, no doubt, becauſe the ra⯑pidity of the river Saguenay, greater than that of St. Lawrence, running againſt the tide, makes an equilibrium, for ſome time, between Checoutimi and the entrance of the Saguenay into the great river St. Lawrence.

The river up to the iſle of Orleans, 112 leagues from the ſea, is never leſs than four or five leagues wide, but above the iſland it grows narrower all at once, ſo that at Quebec it is only a mile broad. Quebec, in the language of the country, means ſhut up. The firſt thing that ap⯑pears, on entering the road of Quebec, is a fine ſheet of water, 30 feet wide, and 40 high, called the Fall of Montmorenci. It is directly at the entrance of the little channel of the iſle of Orleans. Every one would judge, that ſuch a large fall of water, which runs continually, was the diſcharge of ſome fine river, but it is only de⯑rived from an inconſiderable current, from a lake which, in ſome places, is not ancle deep.

Quebec is a league higher, in the very place where the river is narroweſt. The moorings are over-againſt [128] the city, where there is 25 fathom water, and good an⯑chorage. When it was founded in 1608, the tide roſe to the foot of the rock, but ſince that time the river has re⯑tired by degrees, and left a great ſpace dry, where they have built the lower city, but high enough above the ſhore to be ſecure from inundations. The upper city ſtands upon a rock of marble and ſlate. On landing, we enter a pretty long ſtreet, which takes up the whole breadth of the place, and leads to the upper city; and the way is ſo ſteep, that we riſe by ſteps, and of courſe can only go on foot. This ſtreet is bordered with ſtone houſe pretty well built, with their backs cloſe to the rock, ſo that they have but little depth. In the upper city is a place of arms before the fort, which is a regu⯑lar and beautiful citadel, covering the whole town, and where the governor reſides. It is not a large place, though the capital of Canada, containing about ſeven or eight thouſand inhabitants. Ships of the greateſt burden load and unload here, and many are here built.

Twenty-five leagues higher up the river St. Law⯑rence, is the town of Three Rivers, where the river is half a league wide; it is but a ſmall place, but prettily ſituated, having ſome good iron mines in its neighbour⯑hood. There is a convent of Recollets, a fine hoſpital, and a nunnery of Urſulines. It is fortified, and has a good garriſon.

From Three Rivers to Montreal, through the countries of the Irroquois Indians, the river St. Law⯑rence is full of iſlands. On the ſide of Quebec the land is good, but for a long winter, univerſally covered with ſnow. Thirty leagues above Three Rivers is the iſle of Montreal, in the ſame river St. Lawrence, an iſland ten leagues long from eaſt to weſt, and near four broad. There is a mountain in this iſland, with two heads of unequal height, almoſt in the middle, but the town is built only half a league from the ſouth coaſt. It has a very chearful aſpect, is well ſituated, open, and well built. The agreeableneſs of its environs, and its proſ⯑pects, [130] inſpire a certain gaiety, of which every one feels the effect. Montreal is a long ſquare, ſituated on the bank of the river, which, riſing inſenſibly, divides the town in its length into high and low; but the aſcent from one to the other is ſcarcely perceivable. The ſtreets are regular, and well cut. It contains three con⯑vents, with handſome churches, and an hoſpital for the ſick. The fortifications are good, and the inhabitants are ſaid to be about 5,000. As the town riſes from the river, every houſe, (and all are handſome), may be ſeen at one view from the harbour. The river here is only navigable by canoes, or ſmall craft, having ſeveral falls between this and Quebec. Yet the Indian fair, and their trade the whole year, make it no incon⯑ſiderable place. The Hotel Dieu, and the King's maga⯑zines, are in the lower town, and almoſt all the traders live there: the convents and the pariſh-church are ſitu⯑ated in the upper town, and the governor and the greateſt part of the officers there reſide. The pariſh-church has more the appearance of a cathedral than that at Quebec, and the ſervice is performed with a modeſty and dignity which inſpires reſpect for the majeſty of God, who is here adored.

Between the iſland of Montreal and the continent, on the north ſide, there is another iſland, about eight leagues long and two leagues over. The channel, which ſepa⯑rates the two iſlands, runs through the midſt of fine meadows, but its courſe is impeded towards the middle [131] by a torrent or water-fall. The third arm of the river is ſtrewed, as it were, with ſuch a number of ſmall iſlands, that there is almoſt as much land as water.

From Quebec to Montreal, which is about 170 miles diſtance, the country on both ſides the river is very well ſettled, and has an agreeable effect upon the eye; the farms lie pretty cloſe all the way; ſeveral gentlemen's houſes, neatly built, ſhew themſelves at intervals, and there is all the appearance of a flouriſhing colony; but there are no towns or villages, but that of Three Rivers which I have mentioned.

With all the attention of the Court of France to the trade and peopling of this colony, they have not been able thoroughly to overcome the conſequences of thoſe difficulties which the climate, whilſt the place was un⯑ſettled, threw in their way. Their loſſes in the wars with the brave and fierce Irroquois Indians, and the bad navi⯑gation of the river St. Lawrence, which is an incurable evil, have kept back the colony; therefore, though it is the oldeſt of all the French eſtabliſhments, and prior to our ſettling of New England, the inhabitants are not above 100,000 in number.

That which has been the ſecurity of Montreal, and its environs, are two villages of Irroquois chriſtians, and the fort of Chambly. The firſt is that of the fall of St. Louis, ſituated on the continent, on the ſouth ſide [132] of the river, three leagues above Montreal, which is very populous, and has always been eſteemed one of the ſtrongeſt barriers againſt the heathen Irroquois, and the people of New-York. It has a good church. The ſituation is charming; and the river St. Lawrence, which is very wide here, and full of iſlands, has a fine effect. The ſecond village is that of the Mountain, over-againſt the weſt end of the iſland of Montreal. Theſe two villages have produced many brave men, and their fer⯑vor in religion was wonderful, before the avarice of traders had introduced brandy among them, which has occa⯑ſioned ſuch diſorders, that in the ſquares and ſtreets of Montreal is often ſeen the moſt frightful ſpectacles, the certain conſequence of the drunkenneſs of theſe barba⯑rians: huſbands and wives; fathers, mothers, and their children; brothers and ſiſters, taking each other by the throat, tearing each others ears, and biting one another, like furious wolves. The air often reſounds in the night with howlings, more horrible than thoſe which the wild beaſts make in the woods.

The great trade for ſkins is carried on at Montreal, by the ſavages of the north and weſt, reſorting here at certain ſeaſons, from all parts of Canada, to the diſtance of 1,000 miles. Little fleets of Indians are ſeen on the river in the month of June, when this ſair begins, and continues for three months. On this occaſion, many ſolemnities are obſerved; guards are placed, and the governor aſſiſts to preſerve order.

[133]Fort Chambly is ſituated about 17 leagues up the river Richlieu, which empties itſelf into the river St. Lawrence, near the town of Three Rivers. It is built with ſtone, flanked with four baſtions, and has a pretty good garriſon; it is eight leagues from Lake Champ⯑lain, at the extremity of which ſtands Crown-Point.

Having now deſcribed the principal ſettlements on the river St. Lawrence, I will ſpeak of Canada more generally.

Canada, as ceded by France to England, and now poſſeſſed by us, was commonly called New France. It had no bounds to the north, but, on the ſide of Hudſon's Bay; and no other on the eaſt but the ſea: the Engliſh Colonies, now the united ſtates of America, on the ſouth, Louiſiana to the ſouth-eaſt, and the Spaniſh territories to the weſt. In this great extent of country, there are but three mother-tongues, from which all others are derived. Theſe are the Sioux, the Algonguin, and the Huron. We know but little of the people that ſpeak the firſt of theſe languages, and no one knows how far it extends. The Sioux were a peace⯑able people, before the Hurons and Outaouais took re⯑fuge in the country, from the fury of die Irroquois.

The Sioux have a plurality of wives, and ſeverely puniſh thoſe who fail in conjugal fidelity; by cutting off the end of their noſes, and cutting a circle in a part of the [134] ſkin, on the top of their heads, and pulling it off; that is, ſcalping them. Some of theſe people are ſaid to have a Chineſe accent. They dwell commonly in meadows, under tents, made of ſkins, and well wrought, living on wild oats, which grow abundantly in their marſhes, and by hunting, eſpecially the buffaloes that are covered with wool, and which are ſeen in herds of thouſands each, in their meadows. They have no fixed abode, but travel in great companies, like the Tartars, and never ſtay longer in one place, than the chace detains them.

In Canada, there are five freſh-water lakes, the ſmalleſt of which is larger than any known lake in the world. This is Lake Ontario, which is not leſs than 200 leagues round. Oſwego is longer, but not ſo broad; Huron ſpreads greatly in width; Michegan is longer one way than the other; but Lake Superior is 500 leagues round, and contains ſeveral large iſlands. They are all navigable by any ſized veſſels, and all communi⯑cate with one another, except that the paſſage between Oſwego and Ontario is interrupted by a ſtupendous cata⯑ract, called the Falls of Niagara, forming the river of that name, or rather the river of St. Lawrence, which comes out of Lake Oſwego or Erie, and paſſes through Lake Ontario, after a ſtreight of 14 leagues. They call it the river of Niagarra from the fall, and this ſpace is about ſix leagues. At the entrance of this river is a fort, where it is deſigned to erect a village.

[135]To reach the height from whence this river falls, we muſt paſs over three mountains, one above ano⯑ther. The country of Niagara is frightful and ſavage. On one ſide we ſee, under our feet, and as it were in the bottom of an abyſs, a great river indeed; but which, in this place, reſembles more a torrent by its rapidity, by the whirlpools which a thouſand rocks make in it, through which it has much difficulty to find a paſ⯑ſage, and by the foam with which it is always covered. On the other ſide, the view is covered by the three mountains I have mentioned, riſing one above another, the laſt of which loſes itſelf in the clouds, and where the poets might well have ſaid, the Titans would have ſcaled heaven. In ſhort, turn which way we will, we diſcover ſcenes that inſpire horror. But travel a little further; go beyond theſe wild and inhoſpitable mountains, and we ſee a rich ſoil, magnificent foreſts, pleaſant and fruitful hills; and we breathe a pure air, and enjoy a temperate climate, between the two lakes Oſwego and Ontario.

This waterfall is about half a mile wide, in the form of a horſe-ſhoe; but it is divided, exactly in the middle, by a very narrow iſland, about half a mile long, which comes to a point here; but theſe two parts of the river unite again, before it reaches the rock that almoſt croſſes it, and near the precipice, from which it tumbles per⯑pendicularly, in its whole breadth 150 feet. No words can expreſs the conſternation of travellers at ſeeing ſo great a body of water falling, or rather violently thrown [136] from ſo great a height, upon the rocks below; from which it rebounds again to a very great height, white as ſnow, being by theſe violent agitations converted into foam. The noiſe of this cataract is often heard at the diſtance of 15 miles, and the vapour ariſing from it may ſometimes be ſeen at a great diſtance, in appearance like a cloud, or pillar of ſmoke, or in form of a rainbow, when the ſun ſhines on it. Many beaſts and water-fowl, in attempting to ſwim acroſs the ſtream, above the fall, have been found daſhed to pieces below, and ſome⯑times the Indians, through drunkenneſs, or careleſſneſs, have ſhared the ſame fate.

Charlevoix, who travelled round the Lake Erie, or Oſwego, in the month of June, gives the following de⯑ſcription of his tour. "If one travelled, as I did then, with a clear ſky, and a charming climate, by a water, as bright as the fineſt fountain, meeting every where with a ſafe and pleaſing place to encamp in; where one might find all manner of game, at little coſt, breathing at one's eaſe, a pure air, and enjoying the ſight of the fineſt countries, one would be tempted to travel all one's life. It put me in mind of thoſe antient patriarchs, who had no fixed abode, dwelt under tents, were in ſome manner maſters of all the countries they travelled over, without the trouble of attendants, or the poſſeſſion of a great domain. How many oaks repreſented to me that of Mamre? How many fountains reminded me of that of Jacob? Every day a new ſituation of my own chuſing, [137] a neat and convenient houſe, ſet up, and furniſhed with neceſſaries in a quarter of an hour, ſpread with flowers, always freſh, covered with a fine green carpet; and on every ſide plain and natural beauties, which art had not altered, and which it cannot imitate. If theſe pleaſures ſuffer ſome interruption, either by bad weather, or ſome unforeſeen accident, they are the more reliſhed when they re-appear.

They ſay this is the fineſt part of Canada; and, in⯑deed, to judge of it by appearances, nature has denied it nothing, that can render a country beautiful: hills, meadows, fields, fine woods of timber-trees, brooks, fountains, and rivers, and all theſe of ſuch a good qua⯑lity, and ſo happily intermixed, that one could ſcarce wiſh for any thing more. The lands are not good for all ſorts of grain, but the greateſt part are ſurpriſingly fertile, ſome will produce wheat eight years in ſucceſſion, with⯑out manure. The iſles here ſeem to have been placed on purpoſe to captivate the eye. The rivers and the lakes are full of fiſh, and the climate temperate, and very healthy.

But, on the other hand, if the weather is ſo delightful in ſummer, it is the reverſe in winter, which begins in a manner that aſtoniſhes thoſe who are not uſed to it. The firſt froſt fills the river St. Lawrence with ice in a few days, and the earth is ſoon covered with ſnow which [138] continues ſix months, and always to the depth of ſix feet where the wind has little power.

There is, indeed, no want of wood to provide againſt the cold, which ſoon becomes exceſſive, and laſts till the ſpring is pretty forward; but it is very melancholy, not to be able to ſtir out, without being frozen, or without being wrapt up in furs, like a bear. Beſides, what a ſight is the ſnow, which dazzles the eyes, and conceals all the beauties of nature! There is no longer any dif⯑ference between the rivers and the fields; no more va⯑riety; even the trees are covered with rime, and all their branches hung with icicles, under which it is not ſafe to paſs. What can one think, when we ſee houſes with beards of ice a foot long? And how can one travel in a country where bears for ſix months dare not venture from their holes? Seldom is there a winter, but perſons are carried to the hoſpitals, to have their legs and arms cut off, that are frozen, paſt recovery. In ſhort, if the ſky is clear, there blows from the weſtern parts a wind that cuts the face. If, indeed, the wind changes to ſouth or eaſt, the weather grows a little milder, but there falls ſuch a thick ſnow, that we cannot ſee ten paces before us at noon day. If a thawing air comes, adieu to all the capons, quarters of beef and mutton, the fowls and fiſh that had been laid up frozen in the ſtore-rooms; ſo that in ſpite of the rigour of the exceſſive cold, the inha⯑bitants are ſtill obliged to wiſh for its continuance. But as ſoon as the month of May arrives, the ſcene is changed, [139] and the ſweetneſs of the ſeaſon is the more pleaſing, as it ſucceeds a rigorous one. The heat of the ſummer, in leſs than four months time, ſhews both ſeed-time and harveſt, and the ſerenity of autumn gives a courſe of finer days than is ſeen in Europe. Lands are here plowed in ſummer, ſown from the midſt of April to the 10th of May, and the corn is cut from the 15th of Auguſt to the 20th of September.

At York Fort, a ſettlement belonging to the Hudſon's Bay Company, which lies in north latitude; 57 degrees, and 93 degrees weſt longitude, from London, the air, though intenſely cold, is very ſalubrious and healthy, eſpecially in the winter-months; and in the ſummer, though it is much hotter than in England, yet Euro⯑peans enjoy a good ſhare of health. The atmoſphere is cleareſt, and moſt ſerene, in the coldeſt weather, and the moſt piercing cold is felt at ſun-riſing. In January, Fahrenheit's thermometer is frequently 50 degrees be⯑low 0, and in ſummer, the mercury will often riſe to 90 degrees above 0, making a difference of 140 degrees, between the extremities of heat and cold. From No⯑vember to the vernal equinox, rum and brandy will freeze to the conſiſtence of honey, and a caſk of water in the open air has burſt in the courſe of 48 hours. The froſt is never out of the ground; even in ſummer, it is not thawed lower than about four feet below the ſurface, and two feet in the woods. Notwithſtanding the natives take every precaution to guard againſt the [140] conſequences of the cold, they frequently fall a prey to its ſeverity. After enduring great torment for a con⯑ſiderable time, the cold at laſt ſeizes the vital parts, and the unfortunate perſon ſoon expires. Women have been found frozen to death, with a young infant likewiſe frozen, claſping its arms round the mother's neck; others have been found dead, and the babe ſtill alive.

In the coldeſt weather, the atmoſphere is moſt ſerene. Throughout the day, the air is generally filled with icy particles, ſmall beyond conception, which being driven by the wind, adhere to every thing in their way. In the evening, the ſtars begin to ſhine with refulgent luſtre, and the contemplative mind is ſtruck with reve⯑rence and awe, and ſees the aurora borealis darting with inconceivable velocity to all parts of the heavens. Mock ſuns often appear, which is a ſure indication of intenſe cold; and mock moons, when the vapours, ariſing from open water, become condenſed by the froſt.

At Churchill Fort, another ſettlement of the Hudſon's Bay Company, and two degrees more to the northward, the cold is intenſely ſevere. From the end of October to the middle of May, this part of the world is buried in froſt and ſnow; but yet, when the genial rays of the ſun begin to extend to theſe parts of the globe, vegetation is exceedingly quick, and the produce of the garden, may be gathered in the middle of June. The ſun riſes in the ſhorteſt day, at York Fort, at 48 minutes after eight. [141] The woods at Churchill Fort are conſiderably ſmaller than thoſe at York Fort; theſe are junipers, pines, pop⯑lars, and willows; and, indeed, they are ſo inſignificantly ſmall as to make firing exceedingly ſcarce; and the fur⯑ther north the traveller goes, the barer he will find the earth of every vegetable; till at laſt, not the leaſt herb is to be ſeen, nor any trace of human ſteps obſerved in the frigid waſte.

In the interior parts of the country in north latitude 55 degrees, and weſt longitude, from London, 120, where Mr. Umfreville paſſed four years, from 1784 to 1787, on the bank of a large river, which empties itſelf, by many branches, into Lake Bourbon, the climate is ſomething milder than about Quebec. The fruits, which grow ſpontaneouſly, are here in greater variety than in the wilderneſſes of Canada. The natives collect a kind of wild cherries, and ſell them to the Hudſon's Bay people, who make a beverage of them. Raſpberries, ſtrawberries, currants, and an infinity of other ſorts, are to be found; ſo that were a perſon bewildered here, and alone, without communication, he might, in the ſum⯑mer-ſeaſon, procure a very comfortable ſubſiſtence. Every pond would furniſh him with duck and other eggs, and every thicket with a ſatiety of delicious fruits.

In vallies, and moiſt ſituations, the graſs grows to a great height. In winter, the ſnow is not half ſo deep [142] as near the ſea-coaſt, nor are the hotteſt days in ſummer near ſo ſultry. The heavens, in cold, winter-nights, do not exhibit ſo luminous an appearance as near the ſea; nor are the aurora borealis, mock-ſuns, or mock-moons, near ſo frequent. In ſhort, the two countries will admit of no compariſon; the country here is tem⯑perate and healthy, the land is dry, pleaſant, and fertile, and the animal creation is various and excellent, for the ſupport of man. A perſon might here paſs his days with eaſe, content, and felicity; and if he did not enjoy an uninterrupted ſtate of health, it would not be the fault of the air he lived in.

On the other hand, the lower country, approaching the ſea, is one endleſs bog, where wild animals are con⯑ſtantly ſwamped. The fineſt ſummer's day will begin with a ſcorching heat, and terminate with a cold eaſterly ſea-fog, that ſhall obſcure the ſun for ſeveral weeks. The whole country furniſhes but one ſpecies of quadru⯑peds, the buffalo, fit for the ſupport of man, and the Europeans are accurſed with an afflicting, epidemical diſ⯑order, which they very emphatically term, "The country diſtemper." This is a violent pain in the breaſt, ſuppoſed to proceed from the cold air being drawn into the lungs, which, impeding the veſſels from ſpreading throughout that organ, hinders the circulation, and renders reſpiration extremely painful and difficult; though no one dies of it. The venereal diſeaſe is alſo [143] common among them; but the ſymptoms are much milder than in Europe.

This ſeverity of cold in a more ſouthern latitude than our own, can be only attributed to its vicinage to the north ſeas, that are covered with monſtrous heaps of ice, above eight months in the year, and to the winds com⯑ing acroſs vaſt countries, and a great chain of moun⯑tains, always covered with ſnow.

There is another province belonging to us, lying eaſt of the river St. Lawrence, and bounded by the Atlantic ocean, this is Nova Scotia, called by the French Arcadia. It has New England and the ocean to the ſouth and weſt of the river St. Lawrence, and its gulph to the north and north-eaſt, and lies between the 44th and 50th degrees of north latitude, and though in a favourable part of the temperate zone, has a very ſevere winter of ſeven months, ſucceeded by a ſhort ſummer violently ſcorching, with⯑out any intervention of any thing that may be called ſpring. For, long after the ſummer ſeaſon has com⯑menced, they are wrapt in the gloom of a perpetual fog. The whole country is almoſt a continued foreſt. The ſoil is in general thin and barren, the corn it produces, of a ſhrivelled kind, like rye, and the graſs intermixed with a wild, ſpungy moſs. However, though it is uni⯑formly bad; there are tracts in Nova Scotia, which do not yield to the beſt land in New England.

[144]Unpromiſing as this country is, the French ſeated themſelves here, before they made any eſtabliſhment in Canada, and their colony increaſed largely; whereas, at preſent, if the ſupport of our government was with⯑drawn from our ſettlements there, notwithſtanding the immenſe ſums that have been expended in them, they would ſink into nothing. By the treaty of Utrecht, it became the property of the Engliſh, and in 1743, 3000 families were tranſported there, at one time, at the expence of this country, and three regiments ſta⯑tioned to protect them from the Indians.

The chief town we had formerly in this province, was called Annapolis Royal, but, though the capital, it was a ſmall place, wretchedly fortified, badly built, and as badly inhabited. Though Annapolis ſtood on the beſt harbour, as it is ſaid, in all North America, capable of containing 1000 veſſels at ſafe anchor, it never flouriſhed, which induced the new ſettlers to build the town of Halifax. This is commodiouſly ſituated for the fiſhery, and ſtands on a fine harbour. It has a good timber entrenchment, ſtrengthened with forts, ſufficient to guard it againſt an Indian enemy.

Halifax has a communication with moſt parts of the province, either by land-carriage, the ſea, or navigable rivers, and in the harbour lies a ſmall ſquadron of ſhips, which puts to ſea in ſummer, under a commodore, to protect the Newfoundland fiſhery. Was it not for this [145] fiſhery, the inhabitants muſt often ſtarve, as all their proviſion comes from New-England. Though the town, all things conſidered, has a tolerable appear⯑ance, the adjacent country is not proportionably im⯑proved. The ground is very hard to be cleared; when cleared, it is worth little, and labour is very dear. But it has ſuffered moſt from the incurſions of the In⯑dians, which have been ſo frequent, and attended with ſuch cruelties, that the people can hardly extend them⯑ſelves beyond the cannon of their fort, of courſe do not raiſe a fifth part of what is ſufficient to maintain them. Though all the fighting men the Indians can raiſe in this province, do not amount to 500; yet the ſoldiers, inac⯑tive by their confinement in barracks, diſeaſed by ſcurvy, and weakened by drinking, are quite undermatched for the activity, vigilance, patience, and addreſs of the native Americans.

Beſides Annapolis and Halifax, there is another ſet⯑tlement, a little to the ſouth-weſt of the latter, called Lunenburg, colonized by a branch of Germans from Halifax, in ſearch of a better ſoil. Theſe ſeem to ſuc⯑ceed well.

But to return to the Aborigines of Canada. We have ſpoken of the Sioux. The Aſſiniboils inhabit about a lake, which bears their name, and which is but little known. The common opinion is, that this lake is 600 leagues in circumference, and contains a number [146] of iſlands, and that it cannot be approached but by ways almoſt impaſſable; that all the borders of it are charm⯑ing; that the air is very temperate; and that it lies to the north-weſt of Lake Superior, where the cold is ex⯑treme. Some of the ſavages call it Michinipi, that is, The Great Water, and it ſeems to be the ſource of the greateſt rivers, and all the great lakes of North America, for, by ſeveral evidences, they make the river Bour⯑bon, to riſe from it, which falls into Hudſon's Bay; the river St. Lawrence, which carries its waters to the ocean; the Miſſiſippi, which diſcharges itſelf into the gulph of Mexico; the Meſſouri, which joins with the laſt, and a fifth, which empties itſelf into the ſouth-ſea. We cannot aſſert the truth of it, but Charlevoix ſays, on the reports of ſome ſavages, that there are, about the lake of the Aſſiniboils, men like Europeans, and who are ſettled in a country, where ſilver and gold is in ſuch plenty, that it ſerves for the moſt common uſes.

Father Marquette, who diſcovered the Miſſiſippi in 1673, ſays, that ſome ſavages not only ſpoke to him of the river, which, taking its riſe from this lake, runs to the weſt; but, that they alſo added, they had ſeen great ſhips in its mouth. It appears in the old maps, under the name of Poualaks, and ſome accounts ſay, that their country is the boundary to that of the Criſtinaux. Theſe Aſſiniboils, are tall, well-made, ſtrong, active men, inured to cold, and fatigue, who prick their bodies all over with figures of ſerpents, and [147] other animals, and undertake very long journeys. They differ from the Criſtinaux, their neighbours, inaſmuch as the latter have a great deal of vivacity, ſpeak with great volubility of tongue, and are always ſinging and dancing; whereas the Aſſiniboils are of very grave caſt.

The Algonquin and Huron languages, have, between them, almoſt all the ſavage nations of Canada that we are acquainted with. He who underſtands both, might travel, without an interpreter, 1500 leagues of country, and make himſelf underſtood by a hundred, different nations, who have each their peculiar tongue.

The Algonquins, or Cannibas, are neighbours to New-England; but, in going up the river St. Lawrence, we meet with no ſavage nation, till we come to Saguenay, which is many leagues before we reach Quebec. Be⯑tween Quebec and Montreal, towards Three Rivers, are a few Algonquins, but they do not form a village. Fron Montreal northwards, are ſome few ſavage nations. In the more interior parts there are many. The greater part of the Algonguin nations, except thoſe which are more advanced towards the ſouth, employ themſelves but little in huſbandry, and live almoſt wholly upon hunting and fiſhing, ſo that they are not fixed to any place. Some of them allow plurality of wives; yet, far from multiplying, they decreaſe every day. There is [148] not any one of theſe nations that conſiſts of 6000 people, ſome not of 2000.

The Huron language is not by far ſo extenſive as the Algonquin: when I ſay the Huron language, I ſpeak in conformity to common opinion; for ſome maintain, that the Irroquois is the mother-tongue. Be this as it may, all the ſavages to the ſouth of the river St. Law⯑rence, from the river Sorel, to the end of the Lake Erie, and even pretty near Virginia, belong to this lan⯑guage, and he, who underſtands Huron, underſtands them all. The Cherokees are a pretty numerous peo⯑ple, who inhabit the vaſt meadows between the Lake Erie, and the Miſſiſippi. To what language theſe belong, is not yet known; but, from a continual con⯑nexion among all the ſavages, they can underſtand each other, without an interpreter.

The Huron language has a copiouſneſs, an energy, and a ſublimity, perhaps not to be found united in any of the fineſt we know; and thoſe, whoſe native tongue it is, though now but a handful of men, have an eleva⯑tion of ſoul, that agrees better with the majeſty of their language, than with the ſad ſtate to which they are reduced. Some have fancied they found in it a ſimi⯑litude with the Hebrew; others, and the greateſt num⯑ber, have maintained it had they ſame origin as the Greek, but nothing is more trifling than the proofs they bring of it.

[149]The Algonquin has not ſo much force as the Huron, but has more ſweetneſs and elegance. In the Huron all is conjugated. Both have a richneſs of expreſſion, a variety of turns, a propriety of terms, a regularity which aſtoniſhes; and, what is more ſupriſing, among theſe barbarians, who never ſtudy to ſpeak well, and who never had the uſe of writing, there is not intro⯑duced a bad word, an improper term, or a vicious con⯑ſtruction; and even children preſerve all the purity of their language, in their common diſcourſe. On the other hand, the manner in which they animate all they ſay, leaves no doubt of their comprehending all the worth of their expreſſions, and all the beauty of their language.

Exceſs of liquor frequently makes Europeans chearful and merry; but, with the Indian, it has a contrary effect. At this time, he brings his departed friends and relations to remembrance, pathetically laments their death with tears; and, if near their graves, will run and weep over them. Others will ſing in chorus, till they cannot hold up their heads, but will roll about their tents, as in a fit of phrenſy, and frequently into the fire. On theſe occaſions ſome quarrel is ſure to enſue; but they have ſenſe enough to order the women to put all dangerous weapons out of the way; yet, as they cannot remove their teeth, it is not uncommon to ſee ſome of them, the next morning, without a noſe: Sometimes they come off with the loſs only of an ear, or the joint of a finger: [150] and, in theſe affrays, no regard is paid to relation⯑ſhip; brothers and ſiſters often fighting with each other. After one of theſe rencounters, ſays Umfreville, an Indian entered the fort, one morning, begging to ſee the ſurgeon; and as ſoon as he was admitted into his apartment, addreſſed him in broken Engliſh, with, "Look here, man, here my noſe," holding out his hand, with half of his noſe in it, which he wanted the ſurgeon to put on again. The man's nephew had bit it off, and he declared he felt no pain; nor was he ſenſi⯑ble of his loſs, till the next morning, when, awaking, he found the piece lying by his ſide.

Theſe Indians, however, when ſober, are mild, af⯑fable, and good-natured, ready to relieve the wants of their diſtreſſed brethren; but, on the other hand, are ſly, cunning, and artful, glorying in every ſpecies of theft and artifice, eſpecially when the deception has been ſo well executed as to eſcape detection.

The care which mothers take of their children, whilſt in the cradle, is beyond all expreſſion, tends to their perfect form, and proves very clearly that we often ſpoil all, when we exceed the tenets which nature has taught us. They never leave them, but carry them every where with them, and when they ſeem ready to ſink under the burdens they load themſelves with, the cradle of their child is reckoned as nothing. Their cradles are neat beyond meaſure. The child lies very [151] conveniently, and very eaſy in them, bound in them only as high as the waiſt, ſo that when the cradle is upright, theſe little creatures have their heads and half their bodies hanging forward and down. In Europe they would fancy a child, ſo left, would grow quite deformed; but it happens to the contrary. It renders their bodies ſupple, and they are all of a ſtature and port, which the beſt ſhaped amongſt us would envy. The ſhapes which mothers give to their childrens heads, however, cannot be juſtified. There are, in this continent, ſome nations, which they call Flat-heads, whoſe foreheads are very flat, and the top of their heads ſomewhat length⯑ened. This ſhape is not the work of nature; it is mothers that give it to their children, as ſoon as born. For this end, they apply to their foreheads, and to the back part of their heads, two maſſes of clay, or of ſome other heavy matter, which they bind on tighter and tighter, till the ſkull has taken the ſhape they wiſh. This operation is very painful to the child, and makes it ſhed at the noſe, a whitiſh matter, pretty thick. But neither this circumſtance, nor the cries of the infant, alarm the mother, jealous of giving it a handſome appearance. On the other hand, many of the Al⯑gonquins, are called Round-heads; their diſtinction and beauty conſiſting in having their heads perfectly round, which ſhape, mothers take care very early to give them.

[152]They are of a very ſwarthy complexion, and many, about Florida, of a dirty, dark red. But this is not natural. The frequent paints and frictions they uſe, give this red colour, and conſidering how much ex⯑poſed they are to the ſun, in ſummer, and the ſmoke in winter, it is a wonder they are not ſtill darker.

The common idea of ſavages, has been, that they are a hairy people; but, the ſavages of North America are quite the reverſe; there is not a hair on their whole bodies, except on the head, eye-brows, and eye-laſhes, and yet their children are born with a thin hair, and pretty long, all over their bodies, but it diſappears after eight days. Old men have ſome hairs on their chin, as ſome old women have with us. The hair on their heads are very black, that on their eye-brows and eye-laſhes, they pull out by the roots. They eſteem this want of hair a great beauty, and think Europeans, with beards, frightful.

From their plain manner of living, they are very ſwift of foot. One man, Charlevoix tells us, aſſured him, that before he had eaten any bread, he could travel, on foot, forty leagues a day, and commonly, without fatigue, but that, ſince he had been uſed to bread, he could not travel with the ſame eaſe.

They are, almoſt without exception, great walkers, will patiently endure cold, hunger, and fatigue, and [153] bear all miſfortunes, with ſuch fortitude and reſignation, as to enable them bravely to encounter the proſpect of ill, and render the mind ſerene under the preſſure of adverſity.

Between Hudſon's Bay and California, there are many tribes of Indians, ſome of whom are known to Europeans, particularly the Ne-heth-aw-a Indians, the Aſſinne-poetucs, the Fall-Indians, the Suſſees, the Black⯑feet Indians, the Blood-Indians, and the Paegans. Theſe are names they give themſelves, and it it is beyond a doubt, that there are European traders ſettled among them from the other ſide of the continent; I mean the Spaniards, making their inland excurſions from Cali⯑fornia, as we do from Canada and Hudſon's Bay.

All theſe Indians are much inclined to a lean habit of body, and a corpulent Indian is a much greater curioſity than a ſober one; this may be owing to their wandering life. As their country abounds with innumerable herds of deer, elks, and buffaloes, they frequently make great ſlaughter among them, from a maxim, that the more they kill, the more they have to kill: to which notion they are as much bigotted as the greateſt enthuſiaſt. And though they ſometimes find the folly of this maxim to their coſt, ſuffering occaſionally ſuch extreme hun⯑ger through it, that parents have been reduced to the ſad neceſſity of devouring their own offspring; yet they have purſued it. Yet they have a philoſophy that recon⯑ciles [154] all this, and a degree of compoſure, ſuperior to moſt men. An Indian, after being out a whole day, upon the hunt, expoſed to the bleakeſt winds, and moſt penetrating cold, without the leaſt thing to ſatisfy the calls of nature, comes home, warms himſelf at the fire, ſmokes a few pipes of tobacco, and then retires to reſt, as calm, as if in the midſt of plenty. But, this does not proceed from inſenſibility; for, if he happens to have a family, and this family is reduced to extremity of want, his affection for them gets the better of his philoſophy, and he gives way to the moſt pungent ſorrow. He im⯑putes his diſtreſs and want, to ſuper-natural cauſes, and to the capricious will of ſome inviſible agent, whom he ſuppoſes to preſide over all his undertakings.

Though I have ſaid that theſe ſavages will take pride in over-reaching an European in trade; where trade is not concerned, we ſhall find inſtances of honeſty and fidelity among them, that would do honour to a people governed by the wiſeſt laws, and reſtrained by religion, from the commiſſion of every enormity.

This inſtance of ſavage liberty (for I ſhall ſpeak again of their laws) is juſt mentioned, to ſhew, that though the Indian is guilty of taking away the life of a fellow-crea⯑ture; though he glories in the commiſſion of dextrous theft, and will, without remorſe, exerciſe every injuſtice on his neighbour with impunity; yet, as he is not re⯑ſtrained by divine or human laws, from ſuch acts of outrage, nor does the idea of temporal, or eternal, puniſhment, excite compunction in his mind; ſurely theſe enormities are not of ſo deep a dye, as if com⯑mitted by one whoſe mind is enlightened, and who is ſuppoſed to have a more juſt ſenſe of the claims of ſociety, and the injunctions of religion.

Nations are not diſtinguiſhed here by their dreſs. The men, when it is hot, have often only ſomething of an apron to cover their nakedneſs. In winter, they clothe themſelves more or leſs, according to the climate. They wear on their feet a ſort of ſandals, made of roe-buck ſkins, ſmoked; their ſtockings are alſo ſkins, or pieces of ſtuffs, which they wrap round their legs. A waiſtcoat, made of ſkin, covers them to the waiſt; and they wear over that, a rug, or blanket, when they can get one, or elſe make themſelves a robe of bear-ſkin, with the hair inwards. The womens' waiſtcoats reach juſt below their knees, and when it is very cold, [156] or when they travel, they cover their heads with their blanket, or their robe. Some have little caps, like ſcull-caps, others a ſort of capuchin, faſtened to their waiſtcoats, and a piece of ſtuff, that ſerves them for a petticoat, and covers them from the waiſt to the middle of the leg.

They are all ambitious of having ſhirts and ſhifts, but never put them under their waiſtcoats, till they are dirty, and then they wear them, till they drop to pieces; for they never waſh them. Their waiſtcoats, like their ſandals, are generally ſmoke-dried, to give them a black colour, and rubbed, to ſupple them. After this they are occaſionally waſhed.

The dreſs of the Indians, between Hudſon's Bay and California, conſiſts of a pair of ſtockings, made of leather, dreſſed fine, and pliable, like ſhammy; a ſort of looſe jacket, with ſleeves of the ſame kind, and over all is thrown, a dreſt buffalo-ſkin, or a blanket. Young men dreſs their hair in different forms, and paint their faces according to their fancies; but, men advanced in years, ſeldom tye their hair, or paint their faces. The women's dreſs is like the men's. Caps are very ſeldom worn by either male or female; but a dreſt otter-ſkin is frequently wound round the heads of the men, the major part of which hangs down the back. (See the plate of the buffalo-pound.)

[157]More to the ſouthward, many make various figures all over their bodies, by pricking or puncturing themſelves: others, only in ſome parts. This is not done merely for or⯑nament, but they ſay, it defends them from the cold, ren⯑ders them leſs ſenſible of the other injuries of the air, and frees them from the perſecutions of the gnats. It is about Virginia only, that they prick themſelves all over. In Canada, the greateſt part are ſatisfied with ſome figures of birds, ſerpents, or other animals, and even of leaves, and ſuch like figures, according to their fancy; often in the face, and, ſometimes, even, on the eyelids. Many women are marked on the parts of the face, that anſwer to the jaw-bones, to prevent the tooth-ach.

The operation is not painful in itſelf. It is performed in this manner: They begin by tracing on the ſkin, the figure they intend to make; then, in theſe lines, they prick little holes, cloſe together, with the fins of a fiſh, or with needles, ſo as to draw blood; this done, they rub the part ſo pricked, with charcoal-duſt, and other colours, well ground and powdered. Theſe powders ſink into the ſkin, and the figures are never ef⯑faced; but, ſoon after the ſkin ſwells, and forms a kind of ſcab, accompanied with inflammation; and if the weather is too hot, or the operation has been carried too far, there is danger of life.

The colours they uſe on theſe occaſions, are thoſe with which they dye ſkins, made from certain earths, [158] and the bark of ſome trees. The men add to this or⯑nament, the down of ſwans, or other birds, which they ſtrew upon their hair, after it has been greaſed, like powder. They add to this feathers of all colours, and bunches of the hair of divers animals, all placed in an odd manner. The placing of their hair, ſometimes ſtanding up like briſtles on one ſide, and flatted on the other, or dreſſed in a variety of faſhions; pendants in their ears, and ſometimes in their noſtrils; a great ſhell of porcelain, hanging about their neck, or in their breaſt; ſome crowns made of plumage of ſcarce birds, the claws, feet, or heads, of birds of prey, little horns of roe-bucks; all theſe things make up their finery.

It is obſervable, that the men take very little pains to adorn any part but their heads. It is juſt the reverſe with the women. They wear ſcarcely any thing on the head, are fond only of their hair, and would think them⯑ſelves diſgraced, if it was cut off. When, therefore, at the death of a relation, they cut off any part of it, they mean, by this, to ſhew the greateſt grief for their loſs. To preſerve their hair, they greaſe it often, and powder it with the duſt of ſpruce-bark, and ſometimes with vermillion; they then wrap it up in the ſkin of an eel, or ſerpent, and ſuffer it thus to hang down in tails to their waiſt. With reſpect to their faces, they content them⯑ſelves with tracing ſome lines on them with vermillion, or other colours.

[159]Their noſtrils are never bored, and it is only among ſome nations that they bore their ears; when they do, they wear in them, as do the men, pendants of China beads. When dreſſed on gala-days, they have robes painted with all ſorts of figures, with little collars of porcelain ſet on them, and a kind of border, worked with porcupine's hair, which they paint alſo of various colours. In the ſame manner, they ornament their cradles, which are made of light wood, and have at the upper end hoops of cedar, to keep off the covering from the childs face.

Children's bodies not being confined in their infancy, as with us, they are very ſupple in their limbs, and much ſtronger, in proportion, than we are. Mothers ſuckling them a long time, for ſix or ſeven years, adds not a little to their ſtrength, as does the hardy manner in which they are brought up. As ſoon as they leave the cradle, and can crawl on their hands and feet, they are ſuffered to go where they will, quite naked, into the water, into the woods, into the dirt, and into the ſnow. This makes them ſubject to diſorders in the ſtomach, and lungs, which deſtroy them early, but inures them, whilſt they live, to great hardſhips and fatigue. In ſummer, they run, as ſoon as they are up, to the river or into the lakes, and continue there, a part of the day, playing about like fiſh, in fine weather.

[160]Their villages have generally no regular form. They are a heap of cabins, without order, or being ſet in a line. Some like cart-houſes, others like tunnels, built of bark, ſupported by ſome few poſts, ſometimes plaſtered on the outſide with mud, in a coarſe manner, but, built with leſs art, neatneſs, and ſolidity, than the cabins of the beavers, in this country. They are generally from 15 to 20 feet broad, and often a hun⯑dred in length; containing ſeveral fires, for as many families, about 30 feet between each fire-place.

When the floor is not ſufficient for all the inhabitants to ſleep on, the young people lie on a wide bench, or kind of broad ſhelf, about five or ſix feet high, that runs the whole length of the cabin. The furniture and pro⯑viſions are over this, placed on pieces of wood, put acroſs the roof. Before the door, is uſually a kind of porch, where the young people ſleep in ſummer, and which ſerves for a wood-houſe in the winter. The doors are made of bark, fixed up like the umbrella of a window, and never ſhut cloſe. Theſe cabins have nei⯑ther chimnies, nor windows, but an opening is left in the middle of the roof, by which, part of the ſmoke goes out, which they are obliged to ſhut when it rains or ſnows, and then, if they would not be blinded, and ſuffocated with ſmoke, they muſt put out their fires.

[161]They fortify themſelves better than they lodge. Some villages are pretty will palliſadoed with redoubts, where they always take care to have a good proviſion of water and ſtones. Theſe palliſadoes are double, and ſome⯑times treble, and have commonly battlements at the laſt encloſure. The poſts they are compoſed of, are in⯑tervoven with branches of trees, that leave no place open. Before they knew the uſe of fire-arms, this was ſufficient to maintain a long ſiege. Every village has a pretty, large, open place; but ſeldom of a regular figure.

The country they inhabit is very wild, and unculti⯑vated; but, not ſo much as that which they chuſe for hunting. It is a long march to reach it, and they carry on their backs, all they want for five or ſix months, through ways ſometimes ſo frightful, that one would ſuppoſe no wild beaſt could come there. In the hunting ſeaſon, they encamp on the ſpot, erecting a temporary cabin, with poles, fixed in the ſnow, and covering it with bark, in a conical form; but the pieces of bark are ſo ill-joined together, that the wind blows through on all ſides.

The ſetting up of theſe cabins, is the work, only, of half an hour. Branches of pines ſerve them for matts, and they have no other bed. The ſnow, heaped round about them, forms a ſort of wall, which the winds can⯑not penetrate; and by the ſide, and under the ſhelter of [162] this wall, they ſleep as quietly on theſe branches, covered with a poor ſkin, as on the ſofteſt bed.

There being no outlet in theſe cabins, at top, for the ſmoke, there is conſtantly a cloud above; but the ſavages accuſtomed to lie on the ground, are always below this cloud.

On ſuch expeditions, the ſavages are followed by a great number of dogs, which are very much attached to them. Being never fondled, they are not fawning; but, are bold and ſkilful hunters. Every man has a great many of theſe dogs, for they are often killed by the teeth and horns of wild animals, which they attack with a courage that nothing can daunt. Their maſters taking little care to feed them, and living by what they can catch, they are always very lean. Having little or no hair on their backs, they are very ſenſible of the cold, and if they cannot get at the fire, will lie down on the firſt ſavage they approach; and if he awakes in the night, he will find himſelf almoſt ſmothered with two or three dogs.

Their villages being always ſituated near woods, or on the ſide of ſome water, and often between both; as ſoon as the air begins to grow warm, they are very much perſecuted with muſquitoes, and other, ſmall flies; a much more grievous perſecution then the ſmoke, and [163] which they are often obliged to increaſe, to get rid of theſe inſects.

The naſtineſs alone, of the cabins, and the ſtench which naturally ariſes from it, is a real puniſhment to any one but a ſavage. It is eaſy to judge how far both muſt go, among people who never change their linen, or cloaths, but when they will hang on their backs no longer, and who take no care to waſh them. In ſum⯑mer they bathe every day, but rub themſelves, imme⯑diately after, with oil, or greaſe, of a ſtrong ſcent, extracted from the ſeed or root of ſun-flowers.

All they eat, is not only without any ſeaſoning, and commonly very inſipid; but, there reigns in their meals, a ſlovenlineſs which exceeds all deſcription. There are few animals, but what feed cleaner. They live a good deal on maize, which is wholeſome grain, nouriſhing, and of light digeſtion. It is preſerved by boiling it in lye, and when they uſe it, it is again boiled in water, or in broth, and eat with a little ſalt. It is not an un⯑pleaſant food; but, ſome think the frequent uſe of it injurious, as the lye gives it a corroſive quality. Of this grain they make the ſagamitty, which is the moſt com⯑mon food of the ſavages; they broil it, pound it, take off the huſk, and make a kind of broth of it. They love greaſe, and a few pound of candles, in a kettle of ſaga⯑mitty, is an excellent ſoup. They even ſometimes put [164] things into it, which cannot be mentioned, and are ſur⯑prized to ſee our ſtomachs turn at it.

The nations of the ſouth have only veſſels of baked earth to dreſs their meat. In Canada, and all the north, they uſe wooden kettles, and make the water boil by throwing in red-hot flints. Since their connexion with us, they uſe iron and tin-kettles. Among the weſtern nations, they ſubſtitute wild oats for maize.

Among the wandering ſavages, who never cultivate the earth; when the chace, and fiſhery fails, their only reſource is a kind of moſs, which grows on certain rocks, and which is called, Tripe of the Rocks. It is very inſipid, and has but little ſubſtance, and is barely ſuffi⯑cient to keep them from ſtarving. "I have heard it affirmed," ſays Charlevoix, "by perſons of credit, that ſome ſavages eat, by way of dainty, a ſort of maize, leſt to rot, as we do hemp, in ſtanding water, and take it out, black, and ſtinking; and thoſe who have a liking to this ſtrange meſs, will not loſe any of the muddy ſettlement that drops from it, the very ſmell of which, makes the ſtomachs of others heave. It was probably neceſſity that diſcovered this ſecret, and if this does not give it all it's reliſh, nothing proves more clearly, that there is no diſputing about taſtes. They have now adopted the uſe of the potatoes, common to the Weſt Indian iſlands, and find they thrive very well in Louiſiana.

[165]The little works of the women, and which are their common employment in the cabins, are to make thread of the inner membranes of the bark of a tree, which they call white wood, and they work it much as we do hemp. They alſo dye every thing, and make a variety of articles with bark, and ornament them with figures, in porcupines' hair. They make little cups, and other wooden utenſils, paint and embroider buck-ſkins, and knit girdles and garters, with the wool of the buffalo.

For the moſt part, they help one another in the work of the field, and when it is time to gather in the harveſt, apply to the men for aſſiſtance. With their maize they ſow our running kidney-beans, and the ſtalk of the maize ſupports them. Sun-flowers, water-melons, and pump⯑kins, they alſo raiſe in abundance; but before they ſow the ſeed, make it ſhoot in ſmoke, in light and black earth.

As for the men, they glory in their idleneſs, and in reality, paſs above half their lives, in doing nothing; from a perſuaſion, that daily labour diſgraces a man, and is only the duty of the women. Man, they ſay, is only made for war, hunting, and fiſhing; but they make all the implements neceſſary for theſe great exerciſes; ſuch as arms, nets, canoes, rigging, their ſnow-ſhoes, calling only occaſionally the women to aſſiſt them. Chriſtian ſavages employ themſelves in other things, but only by way of penance.

[166]Since America has been peopled, they are in no want of convenient tools for all their work. Before this, they were greatly embarraſſed to cut down their trees, and fit them for uſe. They burnt them at the root, and to ſplit and cut them, uſed hatchets, made of flints, which did not break, but took up a great deal of time to ſharpen them. To fix them in a handle, they cut off the head of a young tree, made a notch in it, as if they would have grafted it, in which they thruſt the head of the hatchet. After ſome time, the tree, by growing together, held the hatchet ſo tight, that it would not come out; they then cut the tree, to ſuch a length as they would have the handle.

CHAP. II. Of their Characters.

SUCH ſavages as have been converted to chriſtianity, retain nothing of their birth and original, but what is valuable; that is to ſay, the ſimplicity and freedom of the firſt age of the world, with the addition of grace, the faith of the patriarchs, a ſincere piety, that rectitude and docility of heart, which is the character of good men; an incredible innocence of manners, a pure [167] chriſtianity, on which the world has never breathed its contagious air, and often actions of the moſt heroic virtue.

Even in their natural character, with a ſavage appear⯑ance, and manners, and cuſtoms entirely barbarous, there is obſervable among them, a ſocial kindneſs, free from almoſt all the imperfections which ſo often diſ⯑turb the peace of ſociety, among us. They appear to be without paſſion; but, they do that, in cold blood, and ſometimes through principle, which the moſt violent, and unbridled paſſion produces in thoſe who give no ear to reaſon. They ſeem to lead the moſt wretched life in the world; and, they were, perhaps, the only happy people on earth, before the knowledge of the objects, which ſo much work upon and ſeduce us, had excited in them deſires which ignorance kept in ſupineneſs, and which have not, as yet, made any great ravages among them. We diſcover in them, a mixture of the pureſt, and moſt gentle manners, the imperfections of wild beaſts, and virtues and qualities of the heart and mind, which do the greateſt honour to human nature. One would think, at firſt, that they have no form of govern⯑ment, that they acknowledge neither laws, nor ſubordi⯑nation; and, that, living in an entire independance, they ſuffer themſelves to be ſolely guided by chance, and the wildeſt caprice. Nevertheleſs, they enjoy almoſt all the advantages, that a well regulated authority can procure from the beſt-governed nations. Born free and inde⯑pendent, [168] they look with horror, even on the ſhadow of a deſpotic power; but ſeldom depart from certain prin⯑ciples and cuſtoms, founded on good ſenſe, which are to them, a ſubſtitute for laws; and which, in ſome meaſure, ſupply the place of a lawful authority. They will not bear the leaſt reſtraint; but, reaſon alone keeps them in a kind of ſubordination; which, for being voluntary, is not the leſs effectual to obtain the deſired end.

A man, highly eſteemed by them, would find them docile enough, and would make them do almoſt what he pleaſed; but, it is not eaſy to obtain their eſteem, to ſuch a degree. They never give it, but to merit, and ſuperior merit, of which they are as good judges, as thoſe amongſt us, who think they have the moſt diſ⯑cernment.

They rely much on phyſiognomy; and perhaps there are no men in the world, who are better judges of it. The reaſon is, they have none of that reſpect for men, which ſo readily ſeduces us; and ſtudying only pure nature, they have a perfect knowledge of it. Not being ſlaves, as we are, to ambition and intereſt, the equality of con⯑ditions, is no way neceſſary to the ſupport of their ſociety; of courſe, we ſeldom meet with thoſe haughty ſpirits, who, full of their own grandeur or merit, fancy themſelves of a different ſpecies, diſdaining the reſt of mankind, by whom, of conſequence, they are never truſted or be⯑loved. [169] Here all men conceive themſelves on an equa⯑lity; and in man, what they moſt eſteem, is the man himſelf. Here is no diſtinction of birth; no prerogative allowed to rank, which hurts the rights of individuals; no pre-eminence given to merit, that inſpires pride, and makes other people feel too much their inferiority. They have, perhaps, leſs delicacy of ſentiment, than among us, but they have more juſtneſs. Religion alone can bring the good qualities of this people to perfection, and cure their evil ones; but, devoid of it, as they are, we can, in their moſt indifferent actions, find ſome traces of the primitive religion, which eſcapes the obſer⯑vation of thoſe, who do not conſider them with atten⯑tion; becauſe they are ſtill more effaced, through want of inſtruction, than altered by a mixture of a ſuperſtitious worſhip, or fabulous tradition.

Let us be more particular. Fathers and mothers, neglect nothing, to inſpire their children with certain principles of honour; which they preſerve all their lives; but, of which, they often make a bad application; and, in this, their whole education conſiſts. When they give them inſtructions on this head, it is always in an indirect way; the moſt common, is, to relate to them, the brave actions of their anceſtors, or of their countrymen. The young people are fired at theſe ſtories, and are never eaſy, till they find an opportunity, of imitating the ex⯑amples, they are taught to admire. To correct them for their faults, they uſe intreaties and tears, but never [170] menaces; for menaces would make no impreſſion, on ſpirits prepoſſeſſed with an opinion, that no perſon has a right to uſe compulſion.

A mother, who ſees her daughter behave ill, cries; on the daughter's aſking the cauſe of her tears, ſhe is ſatisfied with ſaying, "You diſgrace me." It ſeldom happens, that this way of reproving is not effectual. But ſince their intercourſe with Europeans, thoſe (and thoſe only) who are converted to chriſtianity, or are ſettled in the colonies, chaſtiſe their children. The greateſt chaſ⯑tiſement, however, is throwing a little water in the childs face. Girls have been known to hang themſelves, for having only received a ſlight reprimand from their mothers, or a few drops of water in their faces, and who have given notice of it, by ſaying, "You ſhall loſe your daughter." The greateſt misfortune is, that it is not to virtue, they exhort their children, but to revenge.

One would expect, that a childhood, ſo badly diſci⯑plined, ſhould be followed by a youth of turbulence and corruption. No. They are naturally calm, and early maſters of themſelves. Reaſon guides them more than other men, and in theſe northern climes, their conſtitu⯑tion does not incline them to exceſs, or debauchery; yet, we find ſome cuſtoms among them, in which chaſtity is entirely diſregarded; but more from ſuperſti⯑tion than depravity.

[171]The Hurons, till their intercourſe with Europeans, were very laſcivious and brutal in their pleaſures. Young perſons, of both ſexes, abandoned themſelves, without ſhame, to all manner of diſſoluteneſs. And it was eſteemed no crime for a girl to proſtitute herſelf: their parents were the firſt to engage them in this way, and many, for intereſt, did the ſame by their wives. Many never mar⯑ried, but took young women, to ſerve them, as they ſaid, for companions; and all the difference they made between theſe concubines, and their lawful wives, was, that with the firſt, an agreement was made. Indeed, all their children were on the ſame footing; which, in a coun⯑try where there are no eſtates to inherit, can produce no inconvenience.

In the ſouthern countries, they have but little reſtraint in the article of women, who, on their ſide, are very laſcivious; and hence has aroſe, that corruption of man⯑ners which has infected the northern nations. The Irro⯑quois were chaſte enough, till they were converſant with the Illinois, and other neighbouring people of Louiſiana. Effeminaces and luſt, were, in theſe parts, carried to the higheſs exceſs. There are among them, ſome men, who are not aſhamed to dreſs themſelves as women, ſubmit to all female employment, from whence enſued, corruption that cannot be named. Theſe ef⯑feminate perſons never marry, but abandon themſelves to the moſt infamous paſſions. They are, however, treated with the greateſt contempt.

[172]The greateſt part of them, have a nobleneſs and equality of ſoul, to which, with all the helps we can ob⯑tain, from philoſophy and religion, we ſeldom arrive. Always maſters of themſelves, in the moſt ſudden cala⯑mities; not the leaſt alteration in their countenances is perceived. A priſoner, who knows in what his captivity will end, or which is, perhaps, more ſurpriſing, is ſtill uncertain of his fate, does not loſe, on this account, a quarter of an hour's ſleep. Even the firſt emotions do not find them at a fault.

A Huron captain was one day inſulted and ſtruck by young man. Thoſe who were preſent, would have puniſhed this audaciouſneſs on the ſpot. "Let him alone," ſaid the Captain, "did not you feel the earth tremble?—He is ſufficiently informed of his folly."

Their conſtancy in ſuffering pain, is beyond all ex⯑preſſion. A young woman, ſhall be a whole day in labour, without making one cry. If ſhe ſhewed the leaſt weakneſs, ſhe would be eſteemed unworthy to be a mother; becauſe, as they ſay, ſhe would bring forth cowards.

Nothing is more common, than to ſee perſons of all ages, and of both ſexes, ſuffer, for many hours, and ſometimes, many days together, the ſharpeſt effects of fire; and all that the moſt induſtrious fury can invent, to make it moſt painful, without letting a ſigh eſcape. [173] They are employed, for the moſt part, during their ſuf⯑ferings, in encouraging their tormentors by the moſt inſulting reproaches.

An Outagama, who was burnt by the Illinois, with the utmoſt cruelty, perceiving a Frenchman among the ſpectators, begged of him to help his enemies to torment him; and, on being aſked, why he made this requeſt, replied: "Becauſe I ſhould have the comfort of dying by the hands of a man. My greateſt grief," adds he, "is, that I never killed a man." "But." ſaid the Illinois, "you have killed ſuch, and ſuch a perſon." "As for the Illinois," replied the priſoner, "I have killed enough of them, but they are no men."

Some men would call this conduct inſenſibility; but, to elevate the ſoul, above the ſenſe of pain, to ſuch a degree, there muſt always be an effort, which common ſouls are not capable of. The ſavages exerciſe them⯑ſelves in this, all their lives, and accuſtom their children to it, from their tendereſt years. Little boys and girls have been ſeen to tye themſelves together, by one arm, and put a lighted coal between them, to ſee which would ſhake it off firſt. In ſhort, we muſt allow, with Cicero, that a habit of labour, makes us bear pain more eaſily: But what proves moſt, that this kind of inſenſi⯑bility in theſe barbarians, is the effect of true courage, is, that it is not found in all of them.

[174]It is not ſurpriſing, that with ſuch greatneſs of ſoul, and ſuch elevated ſentiments, theſe ſavages ſhould be intrepid in danger, and of a courage, proof againſt every thing. It is true, that, in their way, they expoſe themſelves as little as poſſible, it bring their chief glory, not to buy their victory too dear; and their nations not being numerous, they are unwilling to weaken them; but when they muſt fight, they do it like lions; and the ſight of their blood does but increaſe their ſtrength and their courage.

But what ſurpriſes infinitely, in men, whoſe whole outward appearance proclaims nothing but barbarity, is to ſee them behave to each other, with ſuch kindneſs, and regard, that is not to be found among the moſt civilized nations. This doubtleſs proceeds from the words mine and thine, being, as yet, unknown to theſe ſavages. We are equally charmed with that natural and unaffected gravity, which reigns in all their behavi⯑our, in all their actions, and the greateſt part of their diverſions; as likewiſe with the civility and deference they ſhew to their equals, and the reſpect of young people to the aged; and laſtly, never to ſee them quarrel among themſelves, with thoſe indecent ex⯑preſſions, and the oaths and curſes, ſo common amongſt us. All which are proofs of good ſenſe, and a great command of temper.

[175]One of their principles, and that of which they are moſt jealous, is, that one man owes nothing to another. But from this bad maxim they draw a good inference; that is to ſay, that we muſt never do an injury to any perſon, from whom we have received no wrong. There is nothing wanting to their happineſs, but to behave between nation and nation, as they do between private perſons, and never to attack any people, of whom they have no cauſe to complain.

On the other hand, it muſt be allowed, that what we moſt admire in the ſavages, is not always pure virtue; that conſtitution and vanity have a great ſhare in it, and that their beſt qualities are tarniſhed by great vices. Theſe men, who, at firſt view, appear to us ſo contempti⯑ble, of all mankind, have the greateſt contempt for all others, and the higheſt opinion of themſelves. They are diſtruſtful and ſuſpicious of Europeans; treacherous, when their intereſt is concerned; diſſemblers, and re⯑vengeful in the extreme. Time does not wear out their revenge; it is the moſt precious inheritance, which they leave to their children, and which is tranſmitted from generation to generation, till they find an opportunity to execute it.

As to what we call, more particularly, the qualities of the heart, theſe ſavages do not value themſelves much on, or conſider them as virtues. Friendſhip, compaſſion gratitude, attachment, are, with them, leſs the effect of a [176] good diſpoſition, than of reflection and inſtinct. The care they take of orphans, widows, and the infirm, and the hoſpitality they exerciſe, in ſuch an admirable man⯑ner; are, to them, only the conſequence of their perſua⯑ſion, that all things ought to be common among men. Fathers and mothers have a fondneſs for their children, which riſes even to weakneſs, but which does not in⯑cline them, to make them virtuous; and which appears to be truly animal; children, on their part, have no natural gratitude for their parents, and even treat their fathers ſometimes with indignity. The following is a public notoriety, and will give the reader a good idea of their notions on this head.

An Irroquois, who ſerved a long time in the Euro⯑pean troops, againſt his own nation, and even as an officer; met his father in an engagement, and was going to kill him; when he diſcovered who he was, he with⯑held his hand, and ſaid to him. "You have once given me life, and now I give it to you. Let me meet with you no more; for I have paid the debt I owed you." Nothing can better prove the neceſſity of education, and that nature alone does not ſufficiently inſtruct us in our moſt eſſential duties. And what demonſtrates more evi⯑dently the advantage of the chriſtian religion is, that it has produced in the hearts of thoſe barbarians, in all theſe reſpects, a very wonderful change.

[177]But, if the ſavages know not how to taſte the ſweets of friendſhip, they have at leaſt diſcovered its uſefulneſs. Every one amongſt them has a friend nearly of his own age, between whom there is a mutual engagement, which is indiſſoluble. Two men, thus united for their common intereſt, are obliged to do every thing, and to run all hazards, to aſſiſt and ſuccour each other. Death itſelf, as they believe, ſeparates them only for a time. They rely on meeting again in the next world, never to part more, being perſuaded, that they ſhall there want each other's aſſiſtance.

We muſt acknowledge, that, at the firſt view, the life they lead, appears very hard; but, when it is con⯑ſidered, that cuſtom is ſecond nature, and that the liberty they enjoy, ſufficiently compenſates the loſs of thoſe conveniences they are deprived of; the hardſhip diſappears. What we ſee every day, in ſome beggars, by profeſſion; and in ſeveral perſons in country-life, gives us a ſenſible proof, that we may be happy in the midſt of indigence. But theſe ſavages are ſtill more happy; firſt, becauſe they think themſelves ſo; ſecondly, be⯑cauſe they are in the peaceable poſſeſſion of the moſt precious of all the gifts of nature; and laſtly, becauſe they are entirely ignorant of, and have not even a deſire to know, the falſe advantages which we ſo much eſteem, which we purchaſe at the expence of real good, and of which we have ſo little true enjoyment.

[178]We cannot even ſay, that they like their own way of living, only becauſe they are not acquainted with the ſweetneſs of ours; for many of the French have lived like them, and have been ſo well pleaſed with it, as not to be prevailed on to return, though they might have been much at their caſe in the colony they left: And, on the other hand, ſavage children have been taken from the cradle, brought up amongſt Europeans, with much care, and nothing omitted to prevent their knowing what paſſed among their parents; and yet, the force of blood has prevailed over education; and, as ſoon as they found themſelves at liberty, they have torn their gar⯑ments to pieces, and run into the woods, in ſearch of their countrymen, whoſe way of life ſeemed to them more pleaſing, than that they led before.

The Irroquois I have mentioned, whoſe name was La Plaque; and who, in ſaving his father's life in an engagement, thought he had fully ſatisfied all the debt he owed him, was made a lieutenant in the French ſer⯑vice to fix him, becauſe he was a very brave man; but he would not continue in their way of living. He returned to his nation, only carrying with him, the French vices, without correcting any of thoſe he brought with him. He loved women to exceſs. He was well ſhaped. His valour, and his brave actions, gave him great re⯑putation. He had a great deal of wit, and very amia⯑ble manners. He had many intrigues with other men's wives, and his diſorders went ſo far, that it was debated [179] in the council of his canton, whether they ſhould not take him off. It was, however, concluded, by the majority of votes, to ſpare his life, becauſe, being ex⯑tremely courageous, he might people the country with good warriors.

With all their defects, it is certain, as men, they have great advantages over us; the chief of which is, a greater perfection of their ſenſes, both external and internal. In ſpite of the ſnow that dazzles their eyes, and the ſmoke, which almoſt ſmothers them for ſix months in the year, their ſight never decays. Their hearing is extremely quick, and their ſmelling is exqui⯑ſite; they ſmell fire a long time before they diſcover it. On account of this perfection of ſmelling, they can't bear the ſcent of muſk, nor any ſtrong ſmell.

Their apprehenſion is wonderful. It is enough for them to have been once in a place, to have an exact idea of it, which is never effaced. Let a foreſt be ever ſo large and pathleſs, when they have well conſidered certain marks, by which they guide themſelves, they will croſs it without wandering.

The inhabitants of Nova Scotia, and of the environs of the gulph of St. Lawrence, in their canoes of bark, (to paſs over to the Labrador coaſt, in ſearch of the Eſki⯑maux, with whom they were at war), would go 30 or 40 leagues on the main ſea, without a compaſs, and [180] make the land, exactly at the place they propoſed. The pole-ſtar is their guide by night; and, in the moſt cloudy weather, they will follow the ſun many days, without making any miſtake. The beſt clock cannot give better information of the progreſs of the ſun, then they can, by viewing the ſky; ſo that, do what you can to put them out of their way, 'tis very rare that they loſe their route. They are born with this talent. It is not the fruit of obſervation, nor of long cuſtom. Youth, who never before went out of their village, travel as ſecurely as thoſe, who have been moſt uſed to range the country.

As to the ſtars and planets, the cauſes of the celeſtial appearances, meteors, and the like, they are not only perfectly ignorant of, but indifferent about. An eclipſe they ſuppoſe to be a great combat in the heavens, and they ſhoot many arrows into the air, to drive away the pretended enemies of the ſun and moon. The Hurons, when the moon is eclipſed, ſuppoſe ſhe is ſick, and to recover her from this ſickneſs, make a great noiſe, as the Chineſe do, from a conception, that the planet is attacked by a dragon. The Hurons accompany their noiſe with many ceremonies and prayers, and never fail to fall upon the dogs with ſticks and ſtones, to ſet them a yelping, becauſe they believe the moon loves theſe animals.

[181]They are not better acquainted with the nature of thunder, which ſome take for a voice of a particular ſpecies of men, flying in the air, others, for the noiſe of certain birds unknown to them.

Their manner of dividing time, is by months; ſome reckoning twelve, ſome thirteen. They have not among them, any diſtinction of weeks, nor any names for particular days. They have four, fixed parts in the day; ſun-riſe, and ſun-ſet, noon, and midnight. They have no chronological computations, and if they pre⯑ſerve the epochas of certain events, they cannot com⯑prehend the exact time ſince they happened. They are ſatisfied with remembering the facts, and have invented ſeveral ways of preſerving the remembrance of them; by keeping in their houſes, ſtrings of beads, on which are wrought figures, that revive the memory of tranſac⯑tions. In counting, they reckon from one to ten, the tens, by 10 to a 100, and the hundreds, by 10 to 1000; beyond this, they cannot go. But, the beauty of their imagination is equal to its vivacity; and this appears in all their diſcourſe. They are quick at repartee, and their ſpeeches are full of ſhining paſſages, that would have been applauded in the public aſſemblies of Rome and Athens. Their eloquence has ſomething in it ſo ſtrong, ſo natural, ſo pathetic, that art cannot attain it, and which the Greeks ſo much admired in the barba⯑rians; and, though it does not ſeem to be ſupported by action; though they make no geſtures, and do not raiſe [182] their voice; we feel, they are thoroughly affected with what they ſay, and their eloquence is perſuaſive.

It would be ſtrange, that, with ſuch a fine imagina⯑tion, they ſhould not have an excellent memory. Though deſtitute of all the artificial helps, we have in⯑vented, to aſſiſt us, or ſupply its defects; it is ſcarcely credible, of how many matters, with what particular circumſtances, and with how much order, they treat in their councils. On ſome occaſions, however, they uſe little ſticks, to recollect the articles they are to diſcuſs; and, by this, they, form a local memory, ſo certain, that they will ſpeak four or five hours together, without forgetting any thing, and without the leaſt heſitation. Their narration is clear and exact, and though they uſe many allegories, and other figures, it is animated, and has all the pleaſing turns which their language affords.

An Outaouais, who was a bad chriſtian, and a great drunkard, being aſked, what he thought brandy was made of, which he loved ſo well, ſaid, it was an Ex⯑tract of tongues and hearts; for, added he, when I have drank it, I fear nothing, and I talk to admiration.

CHAP. III. Of their Amuſements, and Dances.

THEIR amuſements are, the game of the diſh, the game of the ſtraws, and that of the bat, with ſundry dances.

The game of the diſh, or bones, is what they are moſt fond of, at which they will ſometimes loſe their reſt, and, in ſome meaſure, their reaſon. They will hazard, at it, all they poſſeſs, and many will not quit it, till they are ſtripped, and have loſt all they have in their cabins; ſome have been ſo raſh, as even to ſtake their liberty. This game is played by two perſons; each has eight, little bones, the ſize of apricot-ſtones, with ſix unequal ſurfaces, two of which are painted black. They make them jump up, by ſtriking the ground, or a table, with a hollow diſh, in which they are contained. When they have no diſh, they throw them up in the air, with their hands. If in falling, they come up all one colour, the thrower wins five. The game is 40 up, and they ſubſtract the number gained by the oppoſite party. Five bones of the ſame colour, wins one, for the firſt time; but, the ſecond time, they win the game. A leſs number wins nothing. He that [184] wins the game, continues playing, and another takes the loſers place. A whole village is often concerned in this game. One village will often play againſt ano⯑ther. Each party chuſes a marker. At every deciſive throw, they ſhout. The players appear like people poſſeſſed, and the ſpectators are not more calm. They all make a thouſand contorſions, talk to the bones, load the ſpirit or genius of the adverſe party, with impre⯑cations, and the whole village echoes with howlings. If all this does not recover their luck; by treating the company, they may put off the party, till next day.

Then they prepare to return to the engagement. Each invokes his genius, and throws ſome tobacco into the fire, to his honour. Above all things they conſult him for lucky dreams. At break of day, they proceed again to play; but, if the loſers fancy, (for they are very ſuperſtitious), that the goods in their cabins made them unlucky. The firſt thing they do, is to change them all. Great parties com⯑monly laſt five or ſix days, and often continue all night. In the mean time, as all the perſons preſent, at leaſt, thoſe who are concerned in the game, are in agita⯑tion that deprives them of reaſon; as they quarrel and fight, which never happens among the ſavages, but on theſe occaſions, and in drunkenneſs; we may well ſay, that when they have done playing, they muſt want reſt.

[185]It happens, ſometimes, that theſe parties of play are made by order of the phyſician, or at the requeſt of a ſick perſon, in hopes of a cure. There needs no more, for this purpoſe, than a dream, of one or the other, which is always conceived, as the order of ſome ſpirit. They then prepare themſelves for play, with a great deal of care; aſſemble for ſeveral nights, to try, and ſee who has the luckieſt hand, conſult their genii, faſt, and the married perſons obſerve continence: and all to obtain a favourable dream. Every morning they relate their dreams; and he, whoſe dream is ſup⯑poſed moſt favourable, is made to ſtand next him who holds the diſh. They will even go a great way to fetch him; and if, through age or infirmity, he cannot walk, they will carry him on their ſhoulders.

The game at ſtraws is thus played: Theſe ſtraws are ſmall reeds, about the ſize of a wheat ſtraw, and about ſix inches long. Two hundred and one of theſe, being ſhuffled together, after a thouſand contorſions, and invokings of their genii, they ſeparate them, with a kind of awl, into nine parcels of 10 each; and one of 11. Every one then draws a parcel, and he who gets that containing 11, wins the point agreed on. The whole game is 60 or 80.

The game of the bat, is played with a ball, and bent ſticks, ending in a kind of racket. They ſet up two poſts, at a certain diſtance, according to the number [186] of players, as bounds. For inſtance, if there are 80, the diſtance between the poſts, is half a league. The players are divided into two bands, each having his ſta⯑tion, and their buſineſs is to ſtrike the ball to the poſt of the adverſe party, without letting it fall to the ground, and without touching it with the hand, for in either of theſe caſes the game is loſt; and they are ſo dextrous at catching the ball with their bats, that, ſometimes, one game will laſt many days together.

Of their dances, the firſt is merely for diverſion. As ſoon as it is night, they ſet up, in a large cabin, ſeveral poſts, in a ring, in the midſt of which ſit the muſic. On each poſt is placed a packet of down, of different colours. The young people, mingled together, dance round theſe poſts. The young women have, alſo, a tuft of coloured down in their boſoms. From time to time, a young man ſteps out of the ring, takes from the poſts a little of the down, of which the girl he likes has ſome in her boſom, of the ſame colour; puts it on his head, dances round her, and, by a ſign, appoints her a place of rendezvous. When the dance is over, the feaſt begins, and laſts all day. At night, every one re⯑tires, and the young women manage matters ſo well, that, in ſpite of the vigilance of their mothers, they ſteal to the place of aſſignation; and ſoon after become mothers themſelves.

[187]Another dance among them, in which five or ſix women dance, is called the fire-dance, by the ſound of a drum, and a Chichikoué, which is a kind of calibaſh full of pebbles, and rattled. They range themſelves in a line, ſide by ſide, with their arms hanging down; and, without breaking the line, ſing, and make ſome ſteps in cadence, backwards and forwards. This is at night, in a cabin, by fire-light. When the women have danced ſome time, the fire is put out, and a ſavage, with a lighted coal in his mouth, makes his appearance and dances, and by the faint gloom of this coal, he looks like a ſpectre. The mixture of dances, ſongs, and in⯑ſtruments, and the fire of the coal, which continues for near half-an-hour, has ſomething odd and ſavage in it. The contraſt of the voices, of the men and women, at a certain diſtance, has a pretty effect, and if they had a good manner of ſinging, it would be a pleaſure to hear them ſing.

Their art of being able to keep a burning coal in their mouths, is a ſecret they keep to themſelves. They rub the inſide of their mouths with a particular plant. Some ſay, it is the leaf of the Canada anemony. Gar⯑lick and onions will produce this effect, and ſecure the part from burning, for a ſhort time; but the plant theſe ſavages uſe, will ſecure them for more than half-an-hour.

[188]There are dances, preſcribed by their phyſicians, for the cure of the ſick; but they are generally very laſcivious. They are almoſt always in circles, to the ſound of the drum, and the Chichikoué, the men apart from the women. As their muſic has but two or three notes, and is continually repeated, they dance always in time.

Their other dances are military, one is rather a mili⯑tary feat. The warriors are the actors; and, it ſeems, inſtituted merely to give them an opportunity of publiſh⯑ing their great atchievements in war. They decorate the calumet with feathers, and ſet it up in the moſt con⯑ſpicuous place among them. Calumet is a Norman word, and ſignifies reed. The calumet of the ſavages, is properly the tube of a pipe; but they comprehend under this name, the pipe alſo, as well as its tube. The tube of that for ceremonial uſes, is made of a light wood; painted with different colours, and adorned with the head, tails, and feathers of the fineſt birds. The bowl is made of a reddiſh marble. The cuſtom is to ſmoke in the calumet, when it is accepted; and perhaps there is no inſtance, where the agreement has been violated, which was made by this acceptation. The ſavages are, at leaſt, perſuaded, that the Great Spirit, would not leave ſuch a breach of faith unpuniſhed. If, in the midſt of battle, the enemy preſents a calumet, it is allowable to refuſe it; but, if they receive it, they muſt inſtantly lay down their arms, and peace is the conſequence. There are calumets for every kind of treaty. In making thoſe ſmoke in [189] the calumet, with whom they would trade or treat, they call the ſun for witneſs, and as a guarantee of their engagement; for they never fail to blow the ſmoke towards the ſun. There are perſons, who have ſuppoſed this calumet to have originated in the Cadu⯑ceus of Mercury; and the more ſo, becauſe they en⯑grave a ſerpent on the tube; but, as the caduceus has no relation to the ſun, and there is no tradition among the ſavages, that gives any room to judge they ever had any knowledge of the Greek mythology, it is moſt rational to ſuppoſe, that theſe people could not find any ſigns more natural to denote a ſtrict union, than to ſmoke in the ſame pipe; eſpecially if the ſmoke they draw is offered to a deity, who puts the ſeal of religion to it. To ſmoke in the ſame pipe, therefore, in token of alliance, is the ſame thing as to drink out of the ſame cup, as has been practiſed, at all times, by many nations.

Now this calumet being ſet up in view, the band of muſic, and the dancers round it, the ſpectators divided here and there in companies; the women ſeparate from the men, all ſeated on the ground, and dreſſed in their fineſt robes, at ſome diſtance, make a pretty ſhew.

Before the muſic a poſt is erected, on which, at the end of every dance, a warrior advances, and gives a ſtroke with his hatchet. This is the ſignal for ſilence, and this man repeats, with a loud voice, ſome of his [190] great feats; and, having received the applauſes of the ſpectators, goes, takes his place again, and the dance is continued; which ſeems to have no meaning, and conſiſts wholly of contorſions.

The dance of diſcovery is performed by one man, and is a natural repreſentation of all that paſſes in an expedition of war. At firſt he advances ſlowly into the midſt of the place, where he remains, for ſome time, motionleſs; after which he repreſents, one after another, the ſetting out of the warriors, the march, the encamp⯑ing; he goes on the diſcovery, makes his approach, ſtops to take breath; then, all on a ſudden, grows furious, and one would imagine, was going to kill every body; then he appears more calm, and takes one of the company as priſoner; he makes a ſhew of knocking another man's brains out; levels his gun at a third, and, laſtly, ſets up a running with all his might; then ſtops, and recovers himſelf. This is to repreſent a retreat, at firſt precipitate, and afterwards leſs ſo. Then he expreſſes, by different cries, the various affections of his mind during his laſt campaign; and finiſhes, by reciting all the brave actions he has performed in war.

There are other dances, leſs compounded, deſigned merely to give the warriors an opportunity of relating their atchievements. He who gives the feaſt invites all the village by beat of drum, and they meet in his cabin, if it is large enough to contain them all. The warriors [191] dance, one after another; then, ſtriking on a poſt for ſilence, they ſay what they pleaſe, and ſtop, from time to time, to receive applauſe, which is generally given in abundance; but if he boaſts of feats he never performed, any perſon is allowed to rub the boaſters head with dirt and aſhes, or play him any other trick he likes. Commonly they blacken his face, ſaying, "What I do, is to hide your ſhame; for, the firſt time you ſee the enemy, you will turn pale." This dance is always performed at night.

In the weſtern parts, they have the dance of the bull; in which the dancers form ſeveral circles, and the muſic, which is always the drum, and the chichikoué, is in the middle. They never ſeparate thoſe of the ſame family. The dancers do not join hands; and every one carries in his hand his arms and his buckler. All the circles do not turn the ſame way, and though they caper much, and very high, they always keep time and meaſure.

From time to time, the chief of a family preſents his ſhield, which is covered with a bull's hide. They all ſtrike upon it; and, at every ſtroke, he repeats ſome of his exploits. Then he goes, and cuts a piece of tobacco, at a poſt where ſome is hung, and gives it to one of his friends. If any one can prove that he has performed greater feats, or had a ſhare in thoſe the other boaſts [192] of, he has a right to take the piece of tobacco, that was preſented, and give it to another. This dance is followed by a feaſt.

CHAP. IV. Of the Manner of Hunting, Animals, Marriages, Births, Funerals, &c.

AS the Canadian ſavages live chiefly by hunting, it may not be unentertaining to give a deſcription of their bear-hunt, which holds the firſt place in this part of their employ; and which, among thoſe who are not converted to chriſtianity, is performed with the greateſt ſuperſtition. My readers may compare it with the mode the Laplanders purſue, and which is related in the firſt volume of this work.

It is always a war chief, who fixes the time, and has the care of inviting the hunters. This invitation is made with great ceremony, and is followed with a faſt of eight days, during which they do not drink, even a drop of water: and their faſting is abſtaining from all kinds of food. In ſpite of the extreme weakneſs which ſuch an abſtinence occaſions, they never ceaſe ſinging all the time it laſts. This faſt is to induce the genii or ſpirits to [193] diſcover the places where they may find many bears. Some even do much more to deſerve this favour. Se⯑veral have been ſeen to cut their fleſh, in ſeveral parts of their bodies, to render their genii, or ſpirits, more pro⯑pitious; but they do not aſk their aſſiſtance to conquer theſe furious animals; they wiſh only to be told where to find them. As Ajax did not aſk Jupiter to give him victory over his enemies, but only day-light enough to make an end of his conqueſt.

The ſavages ſupplicate alſo, on the ſame account, the manes of the beaſts which they have killed in former huntings. The faſt being over, and the place of the hunt being ſettled, the chief, who is choſen for the chace, gives his party a great feaſt, but no one dares be thereat, till he has bathed; that is, till he has firſt plunged him⯑ſelf into the river, if not frozen, let the weather be ever ſo ſevere. Though they have faſted long, at this feaſt they eat moderately. The maſter of the feaſt eats nothing, his whole buſineſs, whilſt his gueſts are eating, being to relate his proweſs at former huntings. Freſh invocations, of the manes of dead beaſts, finiſh the re⯑paſt. Then they begin their march, equipped as for war; their faces beſmeared with black, amid the ac⯑clamations of the whole village; for the chace, among theſe people, is as noble as war. The alliance of a good hunter, is more ſought after, than that of a famous warrior; but a man is not eſteemed a good hunter, till he has killed 12 great beaſts in one day. Winter is the [194] hunting ſeaſon. It does not require much running to catch them. When the hunters think they have found the places where a great number are hid, they form a cir⯑cle, of a quarter of a league in circumference, more or leſs, according to the number of hunters, and thus draw nearer and nearer, till they quite cloſe in upon them and take them.

When a bear is killed, the hunter puts the end of his lighted pipe between his teeth, blows into the bowl, and, thus filling the mouth and throat of the beaſt with ſmoke, conjures its ſpirit, to bear him no malice, for what he has juſt done to the body, and not to oppoſe him in his future huntings. But, as the ſpirit does not anſwer, the hunter (to know if his prayer is granted) cuts the ſtring under the bear's tongue, and keeps it till he returns to the village. Then they all throw, with great ceremony, and after many invocations, theſe ſtrings into the fire. If they crackle, and ſhrink up, as they always do, it is taken, for a certain ſign, that the ſpirit of the bear is appeaſed.

The hunters make good cheer, as long as the chace laſts. To ſee how they are received, the praiſes be⯑ſtowed upon them, the pleaſed, and ſelf-ſufficient airs they take upon themſelves; one would ſay, they were returning from ſome grand expedition, loaded with the ſpoils of a whole nation deſtroyed.

[195]I have already ſpoke largely of the bears in Lapland; but, I cannot paſs over what Charlevoix ſays of the bears in Canada. He aſſerts, that, wherever the bears retreat in winter, whether to a hollow tree, or a cavern, they make no proviſion there, nor do they quit their retreat for ſix months; that, in fact, a bear never eats for the ſpace of ſuch a winter: they have been kept chained for ſix months together, in the winter-ſeaſon, and without food; and yet, have been fat, and clothed with a good fur; whereas, in July, which is in rutting time, they grow very lean, the effect merely of jealouſy; but, when this ſeaſon is paſſed, the bear grows fat again. A bear's whelp is as good eating as a lamb. The dogs they hunt with, are ſhaped like a wolf, with upright ears, and a long noſe.—I will now ſpeak of the Original.

The original of this country is an animal, which, in Germany, Poland, and Ruſſia, is called the elk, or great-beaſt. It equals a horſe in ſize. The hind⯑quarters are large, the tail but one inch long, the horns very high, the legs and feet like thoſe of a hart; a long hair covers the withers, the neck, and upper part of the hams. The head is about two feet long, and he carries it out, which gives him an ill-look. The muzzle is large, and leſſens in the upper part, like that of a camel, and its noſtrils are ſo large, that one may eaſily thruſt in half one's arm. Its horns are not leſs long than thoſe of a hart, and much wider; they are flat, and forked [196] like thoſe of a deer, and are renewed every year. The hair of the original, is a mixture of light grey, and dark red. It grows hollow as the beaſt grows old, and never loſes its elaſtic power. Beat it ever ſo long, it ſprings up again. Matraſſes are made of it, and ſaddles. Its ſkin is ſtrong, ſoft, and ſubſtantial, and is made into ſhamois, and excellent buff.

The moſt northern nations of Canada, take this animal very eaſily, and without danger. The hunters divide themſelves into two companies, one embarks in canoes; and theſe, keeping at ſome diſtance from each other, form a large ſemi-circle, the two ends of which touch the ſhore. The other company, on land, perform much the ſame operation, and encloſe a large ſpace. Then theſe hunters let go their dogs, and rouſe all the originals that are within that ſpace, and driving them forward, oblige them to run into the water, where they are fired on from all the canoes.

This animal has another enemy, namely, the carcajou; a ſort of wild cat, with a tail ſo long, that it can twiſt it ſeveral times round its body. When it comes up with an original, it leaps upon him; and, fixing on his neck, twiſts its long tail round it, then tears out the jugular vein, and thus deſtroys him.

There being a great difference between the beavers of Europe, and thoſe of Canada, I muſt not omit this [197] opportunity of ſpeaking of them. The ſpoils of this animal, has furniſhed this part of the world with the principal object of his trade. It is, of itſelf, one of the wonders of nature; and, it may be, to man, a great example of foreſight, of induſtry, ſkill, and conſtancy in labour.

The beaver, or caſtor, is the ſame creature. It de⯑rived its latter name from an idea, that, when purſued by the hunters for its teſticles, rather than loſe its life, it will bite them off, and caſt them from him. But this is an idle ſtory; the moſt valuable part of the beaver is its fur, of which gloves and ſtockings are made, being ſoft and warm.

The beaver of Canada is an amphibious quadruped, which cannot remain long in water, and yet can do without being in it, provided it has the opportunity of waſhing itſelf occaſionally. The largeſt beaver is ſomething under four feet long, about 15 inches from one hip to another, and weighs about 60 pounds. Its colour varies, according to the different climates where it is found. In the moſt diſtant parts of the north, they are commonly quite black; though ſometimes they are found there white. In the more temperate countries they are brown, and, by degrees, as they advance towards the ſouth, their colour grows more and more light. Among the Illinois they are almoſt of a ſallow colour, and ſome have been found of a ſtraw-colour. It is further ob⯑ſerved, [198] that the leſs black they are, the leſs fur they have, and of courſe, their ſkins are leſs valuable.

The caſtor, or caſtoreum, ſo much ſought after by the druggiſts, are four purſes, or bags, in the lower belly of the beaver (not its teſticles). They contain a ſoft, reſinous, gluey matter, mixt with ſmall fibres; of a ſtrong ſmell, and eaſily inflammable. The beaver-fur is too ſhort to be ſpun, and is fit only to mix with rabbit-wool, to make hats of. If, then, there is any thing to admire in the beaver, it is that its induſtry, its foreſight; their unity, and ſubordination among themſelves, their attention to procure conveniences, the comfort of which brutes were formerly thought inſenſible of, furniſh man with more inſtruction than the ant, to which the Holy Scriptures ſend the idle. They are, at leaſt, among the quadrupeds, what the bees are amongſt flying inſects. They have neither a king nor queen to govern them; but, by virtue of that inſtinct given to animals, by Him whoſe providence directs them, every one knows what he has to do, and every thing is done without confuſion, and with ſo much order, as cannot be ſufficiently ad⯑mired. Perhaps, after all, we are ſo much aſtoniſhed, only, for want of looking up to that ſupreme Intelligence, who makes uſe of thoſe beings who want reaſon, the better to diſplay his wiſdom and power; and to teach us, that our reaſon itſelf is, frequently, by our preſump⯑tion, the cauſe of our going aſtray.

[199]The firſt thing done by theſe creatures, when they want to make a habitation, is to aſſemble themſelves, three or four hundred together, in order to build a little city of Venice, in the midſt of water. They firſt chuſe a place where they may find plenty of proviſions, and materials for building; but, above all, they muſt have water. If there is no lake or pond near, they ſupply the defect, by ſtopping the courſe of ſome brook, by a dyke, or cauſey. For this purpoſe they cut ſome trees, above the place where they intend to build. Three or four beavers ſet themſelves about a great tree, and will ſoon cut it down with their teeth. This is not all; they contrive it ſo well, that it always falls on the ſide next the water, that they may have leſs diſtance to carry it when they cut it to pieces; ſenſible their materials are not ſo eaſily conveyed by land, as by water. They have nothing after to do, but to roll theſe pieces into the water, and guide them to the place where they are to be fixed. Theſe pieces are thicker or thinner, longer or ſhorter, as the nature and ſituation of the place require; for one may ſay, theſe architects conceive, at once, every thing that relates to their deſign. Sometimes they em⯑ploy large trunks of trees, which they lay flat. Some⯑times the dam, or cauſey, as it is called here, is made only of ſtakes; ſome as thick as a man's thigh, or leſs, which they drive into the earth, very near each other, and interweave with ſmall branches, and, every where, fill up the hollow ſpaces with clay, ſo well applied, that not a drop of water can paſs through; and their tail, [200] which is four or five inches broad, ſerves them, not only for a trowel to build with, but for a hod to carry their mortar. To place and ſpread the clay, they firſt uſe their paws, then their tail. The foundation of the dams are generally 10 or 12 feet thick; but they decreaſe in thickneſs upwards, ſo as to be not more than two feet thick at top. All this is done in exact proportion; for, it is obſerved, that the ſide towards the current of the water is always ſloping, ſo as to break the preſſure of the water, and the other ſide is perpendicular. In ſhort, it would be difficult for our beſt workmen to make any thing more compact or regular. The conſtruction of their cabins is not leſs wonderful. They are generally erected on piles, in the midſt of theſe little lakes, which the dykes have made; ſometimes, by the ſide of a river, or at the extremity of a point, that advances into the water. Their ſhape is round, or oval, and their roofs arched. The walls are two feet thick, formed like the cauſey, and every where ſo well plaſtered with clay within, that no air can enter. Two-thirds of the build⯑ing is out of the water, and in this part every beaver has a ſeparate place, which he ſtrews with leaves, or ſmall branches of fir. It is always free from ordure; and, for this end, beſides the common door of the cabin, and another outlet, by which theſe creatures paſs to bathe themſelves, there are ſeveral openings, by which they can dung into the water. The common cabins lodge eight or 10 beavers; but ſome have been found which [201] held thirty. They are all near enough each other to have a communication.

Theſe animals are never ſurpriſed by the winter. Their buildings are completed by the end of September; and then every one provides his ſtock for the winter. Whilſt they go to and fro in the woods and fields, they live on fruits, and the bark and leaves of trees, cray-fiſh, and other fiſh; but when they are to provide for the winter, they content themſelves with ſoft woods, ſuch as the poplar and aſpen. They pile it up in ſuch a manner, that they can always take thoſe pieces which are ſoaked in water; and theſe piles are larger or ſmaller, as the winter will prove, longer or ſhorter; which is as an al⯑manack to the ſavages, which never deceives them, in regard to the cold. When the melting of the ſnow cauſes floods, and drowns their habitations, they quit them till the month of July, and then return to repair them; and, if they find they have been deſtroyed by hunters, they make others. There are a variety of ſtories reſpecting the ſagacity of this animal; but, as I am not writing a natural hiſtory, I muſt refer my readers to Buffon, and others, who have written largely on this ſubject.

But of all the numerous tribes of quadrupeds in this extenſive country, the buffalo merits a deſcription; not only on account of its being the moſt numerous, but, likewiſe, for the utility every part of it is convertable to.

[202]The Indians have various methods of killing the buffalo; one of which is, by cautiouſly approaching them when feeding: the hunter, upon this occaſion, lies upon his belly, and will, ſometimes, fire his gun 40 or 50 times, without raiſing his head. They alſo purſue them on horſeback, and ſhoot them with arrows and guns; the general mode of taking them, is by a pound, conſtructed in the following manner:

Having mentioned horſes, it is neceſſary to ſay, that thoſe bred here are variouſly coloured, as our Engliſh horſes are, but as ſmall as thoſe found in the north of Scotland. They were originally imported by the Spa⯑niards, on the eaſtern ſide of the continent, and it is but lately that they have become common among the Nehe⯑thawa Indians, who much eſteem them, and ſhew more affection for them, than they do for their wives. Many broils and animoſities among the natives, originate from a deſire of being in poſſeſſion of theſe animals. One [204] party generally commences hoſtilities, by ſtealing the horſes of their adverſaries; and they, in return, retaliate; ſo that, at length, a mutual reſentment takes place, and war becomes abſolutely neceſſary.

The method of travelling and hunting in the ſnow, in this country, is not unlike the manner made uſe of in Lapland, and other northern countries, a kind of ſnow ſhoes, or ſcates. They are here called racquets, are about three feet long, and, in their greateſt breadth, 15 or 16 inches wide. Theſe are bound to the feet with thongs, and they ſcud over the ſnow with them very faſt. Their baggage they draw on ſledges.

In many nations of the Algonquin language, a plurality of wives is eſtabliſhed, and it is common enough for a man to marry all the ſiſters; a cuſtom founded on the notion they have, that ſiſters will agree together better than ſtrangers. In this caſe, all the wives are upon an equal footing; but, among the true Algonquins, they have two ſorts of wives, and the ſecond are ſlaves to the firſt.

The Hurons, and Irroquois, are very ſcrupulous with reſpect to marriage. Among them, there muſt be no manner of relation between the parties to be married; and even adoption is comprehended in this law. But the huſband, if the wife dies firſt, muſt marry her ſiſter, or, in default of ſuch, the woman which his wife's family [205] ſhall chuſe for him. The reaſon they give for it is the ſame. But it is mentioned, Deut. 25. v. 6. A huſband who ſhould forſake his wife, without a lawful cauſe, muſt expect many inſults from her relations; and a woman who ſhould leave her huſband, without being forced to it, by his ill-treatment, would paſs her time ſtill worſe.

Among the Miemis, the huſband has a right to cut off his wife's noſe, if ſhe runs away from him; but, among the Irroquois and the Hurons, they may part by conſent. This is done without noiſe; and the parties, thus ſepa⯑rated, may marry again.

Treaties of marriage, are entirely carried on by the parents; but, the conſent of the young couple is al⯑ways aſked. In ſome places, the women are in no haſte to be married; becauſe they are allowed to make what trials of it they pleaſe, and the ceremony of marriage only changes their condition for the worſe. In general there is great modeſty in the young folks, whilſt their marriage is in negociation; but, they ſay, it was quite otherwiſe formerly. But, what is moſt incredible, and yet well-atteſted, is, that, in many places, the new-married couple are together a whole year, living in perfect con⯑tinence, to ſhew that they are married for friendſhip, and not to gratify a ſenſual paſſion. A young woman would be even pointed at, that ſhould happen to be with child the firſt year after her marriage. After this, [206] it will be eaſier to believe what is ſaid of the young people's behaviour during their courtſhip, in the places where they are allowed to ſee one another in private; for though cuſtom admits them to have very private meetings; yet, in the greateſt danger that chaſtity can be expoſed to, and even under the veil of night, they ſay, nothing paſſes againſt the rules of the utmoſt de⯑corum; and, that not even a word is ſpoken that can give the leaſt offence to modeſty.

During the preliminaries of marriage, the young man is contented to go and ſit by the ſide of the young woman, in her cabin; and, if ſhe ſuffers it, and continues in her place, it is taken for conſent, and the marriage is con⯑cluded. But, in the midſt of all this deference and re⯑ſpect, he gives ſome tokens that he will be ſoon maſter; for, among the preſents he makes her, there are ſome which ought leſs to be regarded as marks of friendſhip, than as ſymbols and notices of the ſlavery to which ſhe is going to be reduced. Such are the collar, a long and broad band of leather, which ſerves to draw loads, the kettle, and a billet. This is to let her know, that ſhe is to carry burdens, dreſs proviſions, and get wood for firing.

The women, in general, are brought to bed without any pain, and without any aſſiſtance; but, there are ſome, who are a long time in labour, and ſuffer much. When this happens, they give notice of it to the young [207] people; who, all on a ſudden, and when the patient leaſt expects it, come and make great noiſes at the door of the cabin, the ſurpriſe of which has ſuch an effect upon her, as inſtantly to procure her delivery. The women never lie-in, in their own cabins; many are taken ſuddenly, and bring forth their children, whilſt at work, or on a journey. For others, when they find themſelves near their time, they make a little hut with⯑out the village, where they remain 40 days after delivery. The time being expired, they extinguiſh all the fires of the cabin, to which ſhe is to return, ſhake all the clothes, and, at her return, light a new fire. The ſame formali⯑ties are pretty nearly obſerved with reſpect to all the ſex, in the time of their terms; and not only whilſt theſe laſt, but alſo whilſt a woman is with child, or gives ſuck, (and they commonly ſuckle their children three years,) the huſband never approaches them. Nothing would be more praiſe worthy than this cuſtom, if both parties pre⯑ſerved the fidelity they owe to each other; but there is often a failure on one ſide or the other: and ſuch is the cor⯑ruption of the human heart, that the wiſeſt regulations often produce the greateſt diſorders. It is even ſaid, that the uſe of certain ſimples, which have a power to prevent the conſequences of the womens' infidelity, is pretty common in this country.

A mother's care to her child, whilſt in its cradle, is, as I have obſerved, uncommon; but the child is no ſooner out of it, than it is left to itſelf, not through [208] want of affection, for that is never loſt whilſt they live; but, from a perſuaſion, it is beſt to leave nature to herſelf, and without any reſtraint. The act which ter⯑minates the firſt ſtage of infancy, is giving a name, which, among theſe people, is an affair of importance.

This ceremony is performed at a feaſt, where no per⯑ſons are preſent, but of the ſame ſex with the child that is to be named. Whilſt they are eating, the child is on its father or mother's knees, who continually re⯑commend it to its guardian genius. New names are never invented. Each family has a certain number, which they take by turns.

When they talk to a man in common diſcourſe, they never call him by his proper name; this would be im⯑polite, but give him the quality he has with reſpect to the perſon that ſpeaks to him; where there is no relation, indeed, or affinity between them, they uſe the term of brother, uncle, nephew, or couſin, according to each other's age, or according to the value they have for the perſon they addreſs.

There are few men in the world, that have leſs need of phyſic. They are not only almoſt all of a healthy and ſtrong conſtitution, but they never knew the greateſt part of European diſtempers, till we came among them. The gout, gravel, ſtone, apoplexy, and many other diſeaſes, ſo common in Europe, have not yet reached [209] this part of the new world, among the natural inhabi⯑tants of the country. If they are at any time ill, they apply to their jugglers, whoſe chief employment is that of phyſic.

They ſeldom conſider a diſeaſe as merely natural, or, among the common remedies they uſe, allow any to have, in themſelves, the virtue of healing. The great uſe they make of their ſimples, is for wounds, fractures, diſlocations, and ruptures. They blame the great in⯑ciſions our ſurgeons make, to cleanſe wounds. They ſqueeze out the juice of many plants, and, with this extract, draw out all the corruption, and even the ſplinters of broken bones, ſtones, iron, and, in general, all foreign matter that remains in the wounded part. Theſe ſame juices are all the food the patient has, till the wound is cloſed.

Whatever their knowledge may be, it is certain, they have very quick and ſovereign remedies againſt the palſy, dropſy, and venereal diſeaſe. In the laſt two, a decoction of the ſhavings of guiacum wood, and ſaſſa⯑fras, are their common ſpecifics. And they have a me⯑thod of uniting a broken bone, and making it ſolid, in eight days.

In acute diſeaſes, as in the pleuriſy, they apply cata⯑plaſms to the ſide, oppoſite the pain, which draw, and prevent the humours from ſettling. But their great [210] remedy, and preſervative againſt all diſeaſes, is ſweat⯑ing. On coming out of a ſweating-houſe, whilſt the ſweat runs down all parts of their bodies, they will plunge themſelves, as do the Ruſſians, into a river; or if no water is near them, they will get ſome perſon to throw the coldeſt water over them. They frequently ſweat themſelves merely to recover the fatigue of a journey, to calm their ſpirits, and enable them to converſe the better. As ſoon as a ſtranger comes into a cabin, they make a fire for him, rub his feet with oil, and then conduct him to a ſtove, where his hoſt keeps him company.

When a ſick man refuſes all ſorts of food, they ſup⯑poſe him ill indeed: in this caſe, they adviſe with a juggler; who, at beſt, is no better than a quack, and theſe men have a ſingular method of not being anſwer⯑able for events. As ſoon as they perceive a patient has the ſymptoms of death, they never fail to preſcribe things too difficult to be put into execution; ſo that they are a [...]w [...]ys ſure of an excuſe, on account of their orders not having been punctually followed. It is not to be con⯑ceived to what extravagancies they go on theſe occa⯑ſions: They will order ſome patients to counterfeit themſelves mad. In ſome diſeaſes they order dances, which are generally very laſcivious. One would think, they aimed more to haſten the patient's death, than his cure; but, what ſhews the force of imagination [211] is, that theſe doctors, with all their follies, perform as many cures as ours do.

In ſome ſavage nations of America, when the diſ⯑temper is deſperate, they kill the patient, to put him out of his pain. In the Canton of Onnontague, they de⯑ſtroy young children, that loſe their mothers at their birth, or bury them alive with them, from a perſua⯑ſion, that another woman cannot nurſe them, and that they would pine to death. But this barbarous cuſtom has been lately laid aſide. Some mothers forſake the diſ⯑eaſed, when the doctors give them over, and let them die with hunger and thirſt. And there are ſome, who, to hinder the diſtortion of the features, in dying perſons, cloſe their eyes and mouth, when they ſee them in the agony of death.

In Nova Scotia, the jugglers are called aulmoins, and it is generally the chief of the village, who is inveſted with this dignity; of courſe, though they have not much ſkill, nor leſs impoſture, they have more authority. When called to a patient, the firſt thing they do is, to view him attentively for ſome time, and then to blow upon him. If this has no effect, the reaſon is, "That the devil is in him, and muſt come out: yet, let every one be upon his guard; for this evil ſpirit, out of ſpite, may fall upon one of the company." Then they enter in to a kind of phrenzy, make ſtrange poſtures, cry out, [212] threaten the pretended devil, ſpeak to him as if they had ſeen him, and make paſſes at him.

When they enter the cabin, they always have the pre⯑caution, to thruſt into the earth a piece of wood, faſtened to a ſtring; then, offer the end of the ſtring to all the company preſent, deſiring them to pull up this piece of wood; and as none can ſcarce ever accompliſh it, they tell them, it is the devil that holds it; then feigning to ſtab this pretended devil, they looſen the wood, by little, and little, by digging the earth round it, after which, it is drawn up with eaſe, and all preſent cry out, "Victory!" To this piece of wood is faſtened, under it, a little bone, or ſome ſuch thing, which they ſhew to the people preſent, ſaying, that was the cauſe of the diſeaſe, it was neceſſary to kill the devil to get at it.

This farce laſts generally four or five hours, at the end of which the doctor wants reſt and refreſhment. He goes away, aſſuring the patient, that he will recover, if the diſtemper has not got the upper hand; that is to ſay, if the devil, before his retreat, has not already given him a mortal wound. But how is the doctor to know this? He pretends to know it by dreams; but takes ſpecial care, not to ſpeak plainly, till he ſees what turn the diſtemper is likely to take. When he judges it in⯑curable, he retires; and, after his example, every one forſakes the ſick perſon. If, after three days, he is ſtill [213] alive, "The devil," ſays the doctor, "is reſolved he ſhall recover, and will not let him die. We muſt, out of charity, put an end to his ſufferings." Immediately his deareſt friends fetch cold water, and pour it on his face, till he expires. The deluſion is ſuch, that many thanks are given to the doctor, with a conſiderable reward.

Some nations of the ſouth have maxims quite the reverſe. They never pay the doctor till after the cure. If the patient dies, the doctor's life is in danger. Accord⯑ing to the Irroquois, every diſtemper is a deſire of the ſoul, and death is the conſequence of not accompliſhing the deſire.

In general, when they think themſelves paſt recovery, they meet their fate with a reſolution truly ſtoical, and they often ſee their days ſhortened, by the perſons that are moſt dear to them, without ſhewing the leaſt chagrin. The declaration of the doctor's ſentence, is ſcarcely finiſhed to a dying man, before he makes an effort to harrangue thoſe that are about him. If it is the chief of a family, he firſt makes his funeral oration, which he finiſhes, by giving very good counſel to his children. After this, he takes leave of every one, gives orders for a feaſt, in which they muſt uſe all the proviſions that remain in the cabin, and then he receives the preſents of his family.

[214]During this time, they cut the throats of all the dogs they can catch, that the ſouls of theſe animals may go into the other world, and give notice, that ſuch a perſon will arrive there ſoon. The feaſt being over, they begin to weep, but their tears are interrupted, to bid the dying perſon farewel, and wiſh him a good journey; to com⯑fort him on his ſeparation from his friends and relations; and to aſſure him, that his children will maintain all the glory which he has acquired.

Notwithſtanding theſe people ſhew ſo little judge⯑ment in their manner of treating the ſick, they be⯑have towards the dead, with a generoſity and affection that cannot be too much admired. Some mothers have been known to have kept the dead bodies of their chil⯑dren whole years, and would never go from them; others draw milk from their breaſts, and pour it on the tombs of theſe little creatures. If a village happens to take fire, in which there are any dead bodies, this is the firſt thing they take care to preſerve. They ſtrip them⯑ſelves of every thing that is moſt valuable, to adorn the dead. From time to time, they open their coffins, to change their dreſs; and they deprive themſelves of food to carry it to their ſepulchres, and to the places where they fancy their ſouls walk. In a word, they are at much greater expence for the dead, than the living.

[215]As ſoon as the ſick perſon expires, the place is filled with mournful cries, which laſt as long as the family is able to defray the expences; for they muſt keep open table all this time. The dead body, dreſſed in the fineſt robe, with the face painted, the arms, and all that belongs to the deceaſed, by his ſide, is expoſed, at the cabin door, in the poſture it is to be laid in the tomb; and this poſture is the ſame, in many places, as that of the child in its mother's womb. The cuſtom of ſome nations is, for the relations of the deceaſed to faſt to the end of the funeral; and all this interval is paſſed in tears and cries, in treating their viſitors, in praiſing the dead, and in mutual compliments. In other places they hire women to weep. They ſing, they dance, they weep, without ceaſing, always keeping time: but theſe demonſtrations of a borrowed ſorrow, do not prevent the effects of nature, from the relations of the dead.

They carry the body to its place of interment, with⯑out much ceremony; but take care to cover it in its grave, ſo that the earth ſhall not touch it. It lies as in a little cave, lined with ſkin, much richer, and better adorned, than their cabins. A poſt is then ſet up on the grave, and a number of things hung on it, that may ſhew the eſteem they had for the deceaſed. They ſome⯑times put on it his portrait, and every thing that may ſerve to ſhew to paſſengers, who he was, and the fineſt actions of his life. They carry freſh proviſions to the [216] grave every morning; and as the dogs, and other beaſts, do not fail to reap the benefit of it, they are willing to perſuade themſelves, that theſe things have been eaten by the ſouls of the deceaſed.

When any one dies in hunting, they expoſe his body on a very high ſcaffold, and it remains there till the departure of the troop, who carry it with them to the village. The bodies of thoſe who die in war are burnt, and their aſhes brought back, to be laid in the burial-place of their fathers. Theſe burial-places, among the moſt ſettled nations, are places like our church-yards, near the village. Others bury their dead in the woods, at the foot of a tree, or dry them, and keep them in cheſts, till the feſtival of the dead, which I ſhall pre⯑ſently deſcribe. But, in ſome places, they obſerve an odd ceremony, for thoſe that are drowned, or are frozen to death.

Before I relate it, it will be proper to ſay, that they believe, when theſe accidents happen, that the ſpirits are incenſed, and that their anger is not appeaſed till the body is found. Then, the preliminaries of tears, dances, ſongs, and feaſts being ended, they carry the body to the uſual place of interment, or, if it be too far off, to the place where it is to remain, till the feſtival of the dead. There they dig a very large pit, and make a fire in it; then ſome young perſons approach the corpſe, cut cut the fleſh, in parts marked out by a maſter of [217] the ceremonies, and throw them into the fire, with the bowels. The corpſe, thus mangled, is put into the place deſtined for it. During this operation, the female relations of the deceaſed, go continually round thoſe that are at it, exhorting them to acquit themſelves well in what they have undertaken, and put beads of porcelain in their mouth, as we would give ſugar-plumbs to chil⯑dren, to entice them to do what we deſire.

The interment is followed by preſents, which they make to the afflicted family, and this they call, cover⯑ing of the dead. Allies, alſo, make ſome preſents at the death of conſiderable perſons; but, firſt, the family of the deceaſed, make a great feaſt in his name; and this feaſt is accompanied with games, for which they pro⯑poſe prizes, which are performed in this manner. A chief throws on the tomb three ſticks, about a foot long. A young man; a woman, and a maiden, take each of them one, and thoſe of their ages, their ſex, and con⯑dition, ſtrive to wreſt them out of their hands. Thoſe with whom the ſticks remain, are conquerors. There are alſo races; and they ſometimes ſhoot at a mark. In ſhort, by a cuſtom, which we find eſtabliſhed in all the times of Pagan antiquity, a ceremony, entirely mourn⯑ful, is terminated by ſongs, and ſhouts of victory.

It is true, that the family of the deceaſed bear no part in theſe rejoicings. They obſerve, even in his cabin, after the obſequies, a mourning, the laws of which are [218] very ſevere. They muſt have their hair cut off, and their faces blacked. They muſt ſtand, with their heads wrapt in a blanket. They muſt not look at any perſon, nor make any viſit, nor eat any thing hot. They muſt deprive themſelves of all pleaſures, wear ſcarce any thing on their bodies, and never warm themſelves at the fire, even in the depth of winter.

After this deep mourning, which laſts two years, they begin a ſecond, more moderate, which continues two or three years longer, and which may be ſoftened, by little and little; but they diſpenſe with nothing that is pre⯑ſcribed, without the conſent of the people of the cabin, to which the widower, or the widow belongs. Theſe permiſſions, as well as the end of the mourning, always coſts the neareſt relation a feaſt.

On the death of a wife, the huſband does not weep; becauſe, according to their ideas, tears do not become men; but this is not general among all the Sioux na⯑tions. Women weep for their huſbands a year. They call him without ceaſing, and fill the village with cries and lamentations; eſpecially at ſun-riſe, noon, and ſun⯑ſet; and, in ſome places, when they go out to work, and when they return. Mothers do much the ſame for their children.

The firſt, and often the only compliment, they pay to a friend, and even to a ſtranger, they receive in their [219] cabins, is to weep for the neareſt relations he has loſt ſince they laſt ſaw him. They put their hands on his head, and give him to underſtand who it is they weep for, without mentioning his name. All this is founded on nature, and has nothing ſavage in it. But what I am going to relate, does not appear to be any way excuſe⯑able, that is, the behaviour of theſe people towards thoſe who die a violent death, even though it be in war, and the ſervice of their country.

They have a notion, that their ſouls, in the other world, have no communication with the ſouls of men who die a natural death; and, on this principle, burn them directly, ſometimes even before they expire. They never inter them in the common burying-place, and give them no part in the great ceremony, which is re⯑newed every eight years among ſome nations, and every ten years among the Hurons, and the Irroquois.

They call it, "The Feſtival of the Dead," or, "The Feaſt of Souls;" and is the moſt ſingular ceremony, and the moſt celebrated of the religion of the ſavages. A place being fixed for the aſſembly to meet in, they elect a king of the feaſt, whoſe duty it is to order every thing, and to invite the neighbouring villages. The day appointed being come, all the ſavages aſſemble, and go in proceſſion, two and two, to the burying-place. There every one labours to uncover the bodies; which done, they continue contemplating, in ſilence, on a [220] ſpectacle, ſo capable of exciting the moſt ſerious re⯑flexions. The women firſt interrupt this religious ſilence, by ſending forth mournful cries, which encreaſe the horror with which every one is filled.

The firſt act being ended, they take up the carcaſes, pick up the dry and ſeparated bones, and put them in parcels, and thoſe who are ordered to carry them, take them on their ſhoulders. If there are any bodies not entirely decayed, they waſh them, clean away the cor⯑rupted fleſh, and all the filth, and wrap them in new robes of beaver-ſkins. They then return in the ſame order they came; and, when the proceſſion reaches the village, every one lays in his cabin the burden he was charged with; during the march the women continue their lamen⯑tations, and the men ſhew the ſame ſigns of grief they did on the day of the death of thoſe whoſe remains they have been taking up. And this ſecond act is followed by a feaſt, in each cabin, in honour of the dead of each family.

The following days they make public feaſts, accom⯑panied as on the day of the funeral, with dances, games, and combats, for which there are certain prizes. From time to time, during theſe gambols, they make loud outcries, which they call the "Cries of the Souls." They make preſents to ſtrangers; ſome of whom come 150 leagues to the ceremony. They alſo take advan⯑tage of this general meeting, to treat of common af⯑fairs, [221] or of the election of a chief. Every thing paſſes with a great deal of order, decency, and modeſty, and every one appears to entertain ſentiments ſuitable to the principal action. Every thing, even in the dances and ſongs, carries an air of ſadneſs and mourning; and one can ſee, in them, all hearts pierced with the ſharpeſt ſorrow. The moſt inſenſible would be affected at the ſight of ſuch a ſpectacle. After ſome days are paſt, they go again in proceſſion to a great council-room, built for the purpoſe; and all theſe marches and proceſſions are made to the ſound of their inſtruments, accompanied with their beſt voices, and all marching in time to the muſic. When they reach the council-room, they hang up the bones and carcaſſes againſt the wall, in the ſame condition they took them from the burying-place, and there lay forth the preſents deſigned for the dead. If among theſe ſad remains, there happens to be thoſe of a chief, his ſucceſſor gives a great feaſt in his name, and ſings his ſong. In many places, the bones are carried from village to village, are received every where with great demonſtrations of grief and tenderneſs, and every where they make them preſents; and, laſtly, they carry them to the place where they are always to remain.

This laſt, and common burial-place, is a great pit, lined with their fineſt furs, and the beſt things they have. The preſents deſigned for the dead, are placed by them⯑ſelves. By degrees, as the proceſſion arrives, each [222] family ranges on a kind of ſcaffold, ſet up round the pit, and the moment the bones are laid in, the women re⯑new their lamentations. Then, all preſent deſcend into the pit, and every one takes a little of the earth, which they carefully keep, fancying it procures them luck at play. The bodies and bones, ranged in order, are covered with entire new furs, and over that with bark, on which they throw ſtones, wood, and earth. Every one returns to his own cabin; but the women come, for ſeveral days after, and pour broth, made of maize, called, ſagamitty, on the place.

CHAP. V. Of their traditions and Religion.

NOTHING is more certain, than that the ſavages of this continent have an idea of a Firſt Being, but, at the ſame time, nothing is more obſcure. They argue, in general, in making the firſt ſpirit, the Lord and Creator of the World; but, when preſſed to give an account of this Firſt Spirit, betray many odd fancies. Fables ſo ill-conceived, ſyſtems ſo ill-digeſted, and with ſo little uniformity, that nothing regular can be ſaid upon the ſubject.

[223]Almoſt all the Algonquin nations call this firſt ſpirit The Great Hare; ſome call it Michabou; others Atahocan. The greater part ſay, this Hare being ſupported in the waters with all his court, all compoſed of four-footed creatures, like himſelf, formed the earth out of a grain of ſand, taken from the bottom of the ocean, and created men of the dead bodies of animals. There are ſome, alſo, that ſpeak of a God of the waters, who oppoſed the deſign of the Great Hare, or at leaſt refuſed to favour it. This God, according to ſome, is the Great Tiger; but it is to be obſerved, there are no true tygers in Canada; of courſe, this tradition might be derived from ſome other country. They have alſo a third God, named Malco⯑mek, whom they invoke during winter.

The Areſkoui of the Hurons, and the Agreſkoué of the Irroquois, are, in the opinion of theſe people, the Su⯑preme Being, and the God of War. Theſe nations do not give the ſame origin to men as the Algonquins, and do not go ſo far back as the creation of the world. They ſay there were ſix men in the world at firſt, but who placed them there, they know not. They add, that one of theſe men went up into heaven, to ſeek a woman there, named Atakentſie, with whom he lived, and who ſoon appeared to be with child; that the Lord of Heaven perceiving it, threw her down from the higheſt part of Heaven, and ſhe was received on the back of a tortoiſe. That ſhe brought forth two chil⯑dren, the eldeſt of which killed the other; a faint ac⯑count of Cain and Abel.

[224]They have no tradition after this of the other five men, or even of Atakentſie's huſband; who, according to ſome, had but one daughter. The Gods of the ſavages have, according to their notions, bodies, and live much in the ſame manner as we do, but without any of the inconveniencies we are ſubject to. The term ſpirit ſignifies, among them, only a being of a more excellent nature than the reſt. They have no terms to expreſs what exceeds the tenets of their under⯑ſtanding, which is extremely confined, in any thing that is not the object of their ſenſes, or in common uſe; but yet, they give to their pretended ſpirits a kind of immenſity, which renders them preſent in all places; for wherever they happen to be, they invoke them, and ſpeak to them.

According to the Irroquois, the poſterity of him who ſlew his brother, went no farther than the third generation: there came, then, a deluge, from which no perſon eſcaped; and, to re-people the earth, beaſts were changed to men. Indeed, the notion of a univerſal deluge is generally received among the Aborogines of America; but there ſeems to have been one of a much later date, confined to this continent. Beſides the Firſt Being, or Great Spirit, and the other gods confounded with him, they have an infinite number of genii, or ſubaltern ſpirits, good and evil, which have their particu⯑lar worſhip.

[225]The Irroquois place Atakentſie at the head of the evil ſpirits; and her ſon Jouſkeka, he who killed his brother, chief of the good. They addreſs the evil genii, only to beg, that they would do them no harm; but they ſuppoſe the others to watch over them for their good, and that every man has his own genius, or guardian ſpirit. This ſpirit, in the Huron language, is called Okkis; in the Algonquin, Manitou. When they go out on any expedition, they carry their Okkis, or Manitou, with them. They would rather leave their arms behind them than their deities, which are repreſented under certain ſymbols. They put them into a ſack, painted of various colours, and often, to do honour to the chief, place this ſack in the fore-part of his canoe. If there are too many Manitou, to be con⯑tained in one ſack, they diſtribute them into ſeveral, which are entruſted with the lieutenant and elders of each family. In their marches by land, the chief carries his ſack himſelf, and, when he grows weary of the load, all are deſirous of eaſing him. They have recourſe to theſe Manitou when in any danger, and when they would obtain any extraordinary favour. They think they may aſk any thing of them, however unreaſonable, or con⯑trary to good behaviour, or honeſty. But children, they ſuppoſe, are not under their protection. They muſt firſt know how to handle a bow and arrow, to merit this favour; and undergo the following preparation to receive it, which is the moſt important of their life.

[226]They begin, by blacking the child's face. It muſt then faſt eight days, without the leaſt nouriſhment; and, during this time, his future guardian angel muſt appear to him in his dreams. The empty brain of the child, juſt entering en the firſt ſtage of youth, can't fail of fur⯑niſhing him with dreams; and every morning they take care to make him relate them. However, the faſting often ends before the time appointed, as few children have ſtrength to bear it ſo long; but this creates no difficulty. They are acquainted here, as in other places, with the convenient uſe of diſpenſations. The thing which the child dreams of moſt frequently, is ſuppoſed to be his genius; but, no doubt, this thing was conſidered, at firſt, only as a ſymbol, or ſhape, under which the ſpirit mani⯑feſts itſelf. But the ſame has happened to theſe people, as to all thoſe who have erred in the Romiſh religion: they have attached themſelves to the repreſentation, and loſt ſight of the reality.

Theſe ſymbols, however, ſignify nothing of themſelves. Sometimes it is the head of a bird; ſometimes the foot of an animal, or a piece of wood; in ſhort, the moſt ordinary things, and the leaſt valued. They pre⯑ſerve them, however, with as much care, as the an⯑tients did their Penates. They tell you, there is nothing in nature that has not its tutelar ſpirit; but they are of all degrees, and have not the ſame power. When they do not comprehend a thing, they aſſign it to a ſuperior genius; and ſay, in this caſe, "It is a ſpirit." And [227] men of ſingular talents, are called ſpirits, being ſup⯑poſed, with them, to have a guardian genius, of a more exalted degree, than men have in general.

In ſpring, 1779, Umfreville tells us, ſome Indians, who were employed in the neighbourhood of York-fort, in Hudſon's-Bay, were ſo influenced by theſe ſuperſtiti⯑ous ideas, that they believed the devil, with hideous howlings, frequented their tents every night. They came to the factory quite dejected, and told the gover⯑nor a lamentable tale, ſetting forth, with pathetic energy, the diſtreſſes they were expoſed to from this vi⯑ſitation of the Father of Iniquity. So overcome were they by their apprehenſions, that they kept large fires continually burning all night, and ſleeping only in the day-time. One of them declared, that he had fired his gun at him, but unluckily miſſed him. He deſcribed him to be of human ſhape, going about in cloaths, and taking prodigious ſtrides over the ſnow. The Indians believed that he came in queſt of ſome of their families, a part of which muſt be ſacrificed to aſwage his anger. A little brandy, however, properly applied, had a won⯑derful effect; for, after going through a courſe of inebria⯑tion for two days, all the fears that the devil had occa⯑ſioned, were entirely diſſipated. It proved aftewards, that this formidable enemy was nothing more than a night-owl, which had frequented the place. This bird, by the diſmal noiſe it makes in the night, often cauſes ſuch apprehenſions in the minds of Indians, as to [228] work on their imaginations, and make them believe the devil is really and ſubſtantially preſent.

The jugglers endeavour to perſuade the multitude that they are ſometimes in a trance; which kind of madneſs has exiſted at all times, and among all nations, and has given birth to all the falſe religions. The vanity, which is ſo natural to mankind, has never imagined a more effectual method to rule over the weak; and the multi⯑tude, at laſt, draw after them thoſe who pride themſelves moſt in their wiſdom. The American impoſtors are not behind-hand with any in this point, and they know how to obtain all the advantages from it, which they propoſe. The jugglers never omit to publiſh, that, during their pretended extacies, their genii give them great information of things done at the greateſt diſtance, and of future events; and as, by chance, (if we will not allow the devil any ſhare in it,) they ſometimes happen to divine, or gueſs pretty right, they acquire a great re⯑putation, and are reckoned genii of the firſt order.

As ſoon as they have taught a child, what he is to conſider as his guardian genius for the time to come, they inſtruct him carefully in the obligations he is under to honour him, to follow the counſel he ſhall receive from him, in his dreams, to merit his favours, to put all his truſt in him, and to dread the effects of his anger, if he neglects his duty towards him. The feſtival termi⯑nates in a feaſt; and the cuſtom is, to prick on the body [229] of the child the figure of his Okki, or his Manitou. One would ſuppoſe that ſuch a ſolemn engagement, the mark of which can never be effaced, ſhould be inviola⯑ble; but a trifle will ſometimes break it.

They do not readily acknowledge themſelves in the wrong, even with their gods, and make no difficulty to juſtify themſelves at their expence. Therefore, the firſt time they have occaſion to condemn themſelves, or blame their guardian genius, the fault always falls on the latter; they ſeek another ſpirit without any ceremony, and this is done with the ſame precautions as at firſt.

Different ſorts of offerings, or ſacrifices, are made to theſe ſpirits. To render the god of the waters pro⯑pitious, they throw into the rivers and lakes petun, or tobacco, or birds that have had their throats cut. In honour of the ſun, or inferior ſpirits, they throw into the fire part of every thing they uſe, and which they ac⯑knowledge to hold from them. This is ſometimes done from motives of gratitude, but oftener from intereſt. A dog is the moſt common victim which they ſacrifice; and ſometimes they will hang one alive on a tree, by the hind-legs, and leave him there to die raving mad. The war-feaſt, which is always of dogs, may very well paſs alſo for a ſacrifice. In ſhort, they render much the ſame honour to the miſchievous ſpirits, as to theſe that are bene⯑ficent, when they have any thing to fear from their malice.

[230]The belief beſt eſtabliſhed among theſe people, is that of the immortality of the ſoul; yet, they do not conceive it purely ſpiritual, any more than they do their genii. They define a ſoul to be, as it were, the ſhadow, and the animated image of the body; and it is in conſe⯑quence of this principle, that they believe every thing in the univerſe is animated, and it is entirely by tradition that they hold, our ſouls never die. Their doctrine is, that the ſoul, ſeparated from the body, has ſtill the ſame inclinations it had before, which is the reaſon why they bury with the dead every thing they uſed whilſt living. They are alſo perſuaded, that the ſoul remains near the corpſe at the feſtival of the dead, which I have deſcribed, and that afterwards it goes into the country of ſouls; where, according to ſome, it is transformed into a dove.

Others think there are two ſouls in every man, attri⯑buting to one [...]l I have juſt mentioned; and ſaying, that the other never leaves one body, but to go into ſome other; which they are of opinion, however, ſeldom happens but to the ſouls of children, who, having en⯑joyed but little of life, are allowed to begin a new one. On this account, they bury children by the high-way-ſide, that women, as they paſs by, may gather their ſouls. Now, ſay they, theſe ſouls, which ſo faithfully keep company with their bodies, muſt be fed; and it is to fulfil this duty, that they carry proviſions to the graves. But this does not laſt long, as they expect ſuch ſouls, in time, to accuſtom themſelves to faſt.

[231]But one thing which theſe people never ſail to per⯑form, in whatever extremity they find themſelves, is, that as among us the ſpirits of the dead enrich the living, among them, they not only carry to the grave all that the deceaſed poſſeſſed, but alſo preſents from their friends and relations.

The country, ſay theſe ſavages, to which ſouls go when ſeparated from their bodies, lies very far to the weſt, and are ſeveral months travelling there. They have alſo great difficulties to ſurmount, and run through great danger before they arrive there. They talk of a river they have to paſs, where many have been wrecked; of a dog from which they find it hard to defend them⯑ſelves; of a place of torments, where they expiate their ſaults; and another where the ſouls of priſoners of war that have been burnt are tormented.

This notion is the reaſon why, after the death of theſe wretches, for fear their ſouls ſhould ſtay about the cabins, to revenge their ſufferings, they very carefully viſit all places, ſtriking continually with a ſtick, and ſend⯑ing forth hideous cries to drive them away.

Among the fabulous ſtories, which they tell of what paſſes in hell, which ſo much reſemble thoſe of Homer and Virgil, there is one, that ſeems copied from Or⯑pheus and Euridice. There is ſcarce any thing in it to change, but the names. The happineſs which they hope [232] to enjoy in this fancied elyſium, they do not conſider ab⯑ſolutely as the reward of virtue. To have been a good hunter, a gallant warrior, and fortunate in all enterprizes; to have killed and burnt a great number of enemies, are the only titles that give them a right to paradiſe; all the happineſs of which conſiſts in finding places to hunt and fiſh in that never fail, an eternal ſpring, great plenty of all things without labour, and all the pleaſures of ſenſe. This is all they aſk of their gods in this life. All their ſongs, wiiich are in fact their prayers, run only on the preſent good. They think themſelves ſure of being happy in the other world, in proportion to what they have been in this.

The ſouls of beaſts have alſo, with them, a place in the country of ſouls. They allow them, likewiſe, a ſort of reaſon; and not only each ſpecies, but each animal, if we believe them, has alſo its guardian genius. In a word, they make no difference between us and brutes, but that our ſouls are ſomething of a better ſort.

But, among all their ſuperſtition and extravagance, there is nothing more idle than what regards their dreams. Sometimes they ſay, it is the reaſonable ſoul that wanders, whilſt the ſenſitive ſoul continues to animate the body. Sometimes, it is the familiar ge⯑nius, that gives good advice about future events. Sometimes, it is a viſit they receive from the ſoul of the object they dream of; but, whatever conception they have of dreams, they are always conſidered as ſacred [233] things, and as the means which their gods moſt uſually employ, to declare their wills to men.

Now it is not the perſon alone, who dreams, that muſt ſatisfy the obligations that he imagines are impoſed on by it; but it would alſo be a crime in any perſon that he addreſſes himſelf to, to refuſe him any thing he deſired in dreaming; and this often has diſagreeable conſe⯑quences. If the thing deſired is of ſuch a nature, that it cannot be ſupplied by a private perſon, the public take up the matter, and will have it found, if at the diſtance of 500 leagues. If it is an inanimate thing, they are more eaſy; but if an animate, its death cauſes ſurprizing uneaſineſs. Nay, if any one takes it into his head to dream that he knocks another man's brains out, he will do it if he can; and he muſt expect the ſame if another dreams that of him. But a little preſence of mind will remedy this fear. It is only knowing how to oppoſe ſuch a dream, by another, that contradicts it. "Then," ſays the firſt dreamer, "I ſee plainly, that your ſpirit is ſtronger than mine; therefore, let us talk no more about it."

They have a kind of bacchanal, which they call the feſtival of dreams; but which the Irroquois, and ſome others, more properly, call, "The turning of the brain." It is celebrated about the end of winter, and commonly laſts 15 days. At this time, they act all kinds of [234] fooleries, and every one runs from cabin to cabin, diſ⯑guiſed in a thouſand ridiculous ways. They break and overſet every thing; and no one dares to contradict it. If they meet any one, they deſire him to gueſs their dream; and if they gueſs it, it is at their own expence; for the gueſſer muſt give the thing they dreamt of. When it ends, they return every thing, make a great feaſt, and ſtudy only how to repair the ſad effects of the maſquerade; for it is commonly no trifling buſineſs. Indeed, they take the opportunity of this feſtival, to give thoſe a ſound drubbing, who have affronted or in⯑jured them; but, when the time is over, every thing is forgotten.

The ſavages, in general, acknowledge only the ope⯑rations of the good genii. It is the wizards alone, and thoſe who uſe enchantments who are reported to hold correſpondence with the evil; and it is women chiefly that follow this deteſtable profeſſion. The jugglers not only forbear it, but profeſs openly their ſtudy is, to prevent their pernicious effects. It is certain, that among thoſe who practice the art of juggling, the boldeſt are the moſt reſpected; and, with a little artifice, they eaſily perſuade people, who are brought up in ſuperſtition, though they have ſeen the birth of theſe importers: if they chuſe to give themſelves a ſupernatural birth, they will find people to credit their aſſertion, as much as if they had ſeen them come down from heaven; and who [235] believe their being born like other men, was a mere il⯑luſion. But, in general, their artifices are ſo groſs, and ſo common, that there are none but fools and children that are impoſed on by them, except it is, when they act as phyſicians; for every one knows, that in what concerns the recovery of health, the greateſt credulity is to be found in all countries, as well among thoſe who pride themſelves on their wiſdom as among the weaker claſs of people.

The Blackfoot Paegan, and Blood Indians, have a cuſtom peculiar to themſelves, that of cutting off the joints of their fingers, beginning with the little finger, and taking off a joint, as often as ſuperſtition prompts them. This is advanced on the credit of Mr. Umfreville, who ſays, he could never learn the cauſe of this ſingular cuſtom; nor did he ever obſerve any but old men, that had their fingers thus mutilated.

CHAP. VI. Of their Government and Wars.

THE greateſt part of the ſavage nations of the con⯑tinent of America have a kind of Ariſtocratic government, which varies almoſt to infinity. For al⯑though each village has its chief, independent of all others of the ſame nation, and in whom his ſubjects de⯑pend in a very few things; yet, no affair of importance is concluded without the advice of the elders.

Many nations have each three families, or principal tribes, as ancient, in all probability, as their origin, yet, nevertheleſs, derived from the ſame ſtock; and there is one, who is looked upon as the firſt, which has a ſort of pre-eminence over the other two, who ſtile thoſe of this tribe brothers, whereas, between themſelves, they call each other couſins. Theſe tribes are mixed, with⯑out being confounded, each having its diſtinct chief, in every village; and, in the affairs which concern the whole nation, theſe chiefs aſſemble to deliberate upon them. Each tribe bears the name of ſome animal; and the whole nation has alſo one, whoſe name they take, and whoſe figure is their badge, or coat of arms. They ſign treaties, by tracing theſe figures on them, unleſs [237] particular reaſons bid them to ſubſtitute others. Thus the Huron nation is the nation of the Porcupine, and its firſt tribe bears the name of the Bear. The other two, are the Wolf and the Tortoiſe. The Irroquois nations have the ſame animals as the Huron; and thus appear to be branches of the ſame colony.

The conferring, or giving theſe titles, is always per⯑formed with great ceremony. The new chief makes a feaſt, and gives preſents, ſpeaks the eulogium of his predeceſſor, and ſings his ſong. In the north, and in all places where the Algonquin language prevails, the dignity of chief is elective. Among the Hurons, where it is hereditary, the ſucceſſion is continued by the woman's ſide; ſo that at the death of the chief, it is not his ſon that ſucceeds him, but his ſiſter's ſon; or, in caſe of failure of ſuch, the neareſt relation by the female line. If a whole branch is extinct, the nobleſt matron of the tribe chuſes the perſon ſhe likes beſt, and declares him chief.

They muſt, however, be of an age fit to govern; and if the ſucceſſor is not of age, a regent is choſen, who has all the authority; but who exerciſes it in the name of the minor. In general, theſe chiefs do not receive any great marks of reſpect; and if they are always obeyed, it is, becauſe they know how far their commands will have force. They, indeed, rather intreat, or propoſe, than command; and never exceed the bounds of the little authority they have. Thus it is reaſon that governs, and [238] the government is the more effectual, as the obedience is more voluntary; and there is no fear of its degenerating into tyranny.

Beſides this, every family chuſes themſelves a coun⯑ſellor, or an aſſiſtant to the chief, who is to watch over their intereſts, and without whoſe advice the chief can undertake nothing. Theſe counſellors are particularly obliged to take care of the public treaſure; and it be⯑longs to them, to direct how it is to be employed. In the Huron nations the women name the counſellors; and they often chuſe perſons of their own ſex.

This body of counſellors, or aſſiſtants, is the firſt aſſembly: that of the elders, or thoſe who have at⯑tained the age of maturity, is the ſecond; the laſt, is that of the warriors, or all thoſe who are able to bear arms. This laſt body has often the chief of the nation, or village, at its head, but he muſt firſt have diſtin⯑guiſhed himſelf by ſome brave action; otherwiſe, he is obliged to ſerve as a ſubaltern, or common ſoldier; for in theſe ſavage armies, there is no intermediate rank.

A great party may, indeed, have ſeveral chiefs, be⯑cauſe they give this title to all thoſe, who ever had a command; but theſe are not the leſs ſubject to the com⯑mander of the party. The women have the men's whole authority, among the people of the Huron language, if we except the Irroquois Canton of On⯑neyouth, [239] where it is alternate between the ſexes. But though this is their law, the women ſeldom interfere, the chiefs tranſacting all the buſineſs in their name.

In the general council of elders, they proceed with ſuch prudence, maturity, and ability; and, for the moſt part, with ſuch probity, as would have done honour to the Areopagus of Athens, and the ſenate of Rome, in the moſt flouriſhing times of theſe republics. The reaſon is, that they conclude nothing haſtily, and that the ſtrong paſſions, which have made ſuch alterations in the ſyſtems of policy, even among chriſtians, have not yet prevailed in theſe ſavages over the public good. The parties concerned, do not fail to employ ſecret ſprings, and ſuch intrigue to accompliſh their deſigns, that one would ſcarce believe could enter into the thoughts of ſuch barbarians. They poſſeſs in the higheſt degree the great art of concealing their proceedings; and, in general, the glory of the nation, and motives of honour, are the chief ſprings of all their undertakings. Their great failing is revenge; revenge without bounds, and which their chief honour lies in the gratification of: a fault which chriſtianity only can thoroughly reform, and which all our politeneſs and religion does not always correct.

Each tribe has its orator in every village, and there are few, but theſe orators, who have a right to ſpeak in the public councils, and the general aſſemblies; and [240] theſe always ſpeak, and to the purpoſe. One would ſuppoſe, that people who have little or no poſſeſſions, either public or private, and who have no ambition to extend themſelves, ſhould have very few things to ad⯑juſt with each other. But the ſpirit of man, naturally reſtleſs, cannot remain without action, and is ingenious in finding itſelf employment. This is certain, that theſe ſavages negotiate continually, and have always ſome affair on the carpet. They have ſome treaties to con⯑clude, or renew, offers of ſervice to make, mutual civi⯑lities to ſhew, alliances to court, invitations to join in war, or condolences on the death of a chief to convey. All this is done with a dignity, an attention, nay, with, an ability, worthy of the moſt important affairs.

The Irroquois nation has, for the laſt two ages, made the greateſt figure in Canada. By their ſucceſſes in war, they have gained a ſuperiority over the greateſt part of the other nations. As to what relates to private perſons, and the particular concerns of their villages, they are reduced to a very ſmall compaſs, and are ſoon decided. The greateſt defect of this government is, that they have no puniſhment for crimes; but this de⯑fect has not the ſame conſequences here, as it would have with us; ſo ſel [...]-intereſt, which governs us, and is the ſource of almoſt all our crimes, can ſcarce have any power over a people, who never think of laying up riches, and who take little thought for the morrow.

[241]To enter into all the police of ſuch barbarous nations, would be little entertainment, or improvement, to our readers, unleſs their laws were better ſtudied than they are; as the government of each country is generally adapted to its ſituation, and its wants, a civilized nation can profit little by the laws and practice of barbarians. I will, therefore, drop any further obſervations on the ſub⯑ject, and proceed to their manner of making war.

I have already noticed, that the god of war, by the Hurons, is called Areſkoui, and by the Irroquois Agre⯑ſkoué. It is worth remarking, that ſeveral of the terms, which relate to war, in the Huron and Irroquois lan⯑guages, ſeem to have been derived from the Greek word Ares, who is the Mars, or god of war, in all the countries where they have followed the theology of Homer. Aregouen ſignifies to make war, and is thus de⯑clined; Garigo, I make war; Sarego, thou makeſt war; Arego, he makes war, and ſo on. Areſkoui is not only the Mars of theſe people, but he is alſo their chief god, or, as they expreſs it, the Great Spirit, and the Creator and Maſ⯑ter of the World. But it is chiefly for military expeditions that they invoke him, as if the attribute that does him the moſt honour, was that of the God of Hoſts. His name is the war-cry before battle, and in the height of the engagement. On their march, alſo, they often repeat it, by way of encouraging each other, and to implore his aſſiſtance.

[242]To take up the hatchet is to declare war; every pri⯑vate perſon has a right to do it, without any one having a power to hinder him, unleſs it be among the Hurons and Irroquois, where mothers of families can declare or for⯑bid war, when they pleaſe. When war is declared for⯑mally againſt two nations, the manner of expreſſing it, is, "To hang the kettle on the fire;" which has its origin in the barbarous cuſtom of eating the priſoners, and thoſe that were ſlain, after they had boiled them. They ſay, alſo, in direct words, that they are going "To eat a nation;" ſignifying, that they will make a cruel war againſt it. When they would engage an ally in their quarrel, they ſend him a porcelain, that is a great ſhell, to invite him to drink the blood; or, according to their meaning, the broth of the fleſh of their enemies. For the porcelain of theſe countries, is the Venus ſhell of Canada, which is there conſidered as a precious ſtone. After all, this cuſtom may be very ancient; but it does not follow from hence, that theſe people were always man-eaters. It was, perhaps, in the primitive times, only an allegorical way of ſpeaking, ſuch as we find often in ſcripture. The enemies of David, did not, as appears, make it a cuſtom to eat the fleſh of their ene⯑mies, when he ſaid, Pſalm xxvii. v. 2. "When the wicked, even mine enemies, and my foes, came upon me, to eat up my fleſh." In after times, certain nations, that were become ſavage and barbarous, ſubſtituted the fact, in the room of the figure.

[243]It ſeldom happens, that theſe barbarians refuſe to en⯑gage in a war, when they are invited to it by their allies. Indeed, they have no need of invitation to take up arms; the leaſt trifle is a ſufficient motive, particularly revenge, for ſome old or new injury; for time never heals ſuch wounds, however ſlight they were.

A war, which concerns all the nation, is well weighed, before determined on; and whilſt they deliberate, they are extremely careful to avoid every thing that would give the enemy the leaſt cauſe to ſuſpect they intend to break with them. War being reſolved on, they directly conſider of the proviſions, and the equipage of the women; the dances, ſongs, feaſts, and ſome ſuperſtiti⯑ous ceremonies. He, who is to command, does not think of raiſing men, till he has faſted ſeveral days, dur⯑ing which he is ſmeared with black, holds ſcarce any converſation with any one, invokes his tutelar ſpirit, day and night; and, above all, is very careful to obſerve his dreams. The faſt being over, he aſſembles his friends, and, with a collar of beads in his hand, thus addreſſes them: ‘The Great Spirit, brethren, approves my ſentiments, inſpires me with what I ought to do, and authoriſes my intentions. The blood of ſuch an one, is not wiped away; his body is not covered; and I will acquit myſelf of the duty I owe him: I am re⯑ſolved, therefore, to go to ſuch a place, and eat ſuch a nation. If I periſh in the enterprize, or ſhould any who accompany me loſe their lives, this collar ſhall [244] ſerve to receive us, that we may not continue to lie in the di [...]t:’ meaning, by this, that the collar, which is a badge of honour, ſhall belong to him, who ſhall take care to bury the dead. In pronouncing theſe laſt words, he lays the collar on the ground, and he who takes it up, declares himſelf his lieutenant. This done, they heat water, waſh the face of the chief, ſet his hair in order, greaſe it, and paint it. They alſo paint his face with various colours, and put on his fineſt robe. Thus adorned, he ſings the death ſong, in a low tone of voice; and his ſoldiers, thoſe that chuſe to follow him, ſing out their war ſong, with a loud voice, one after another; for every man has his own ſong, which no other is allowed to ſing. There are ſome, alſo, peculiar to each family.

After this preliminary, the chief communicates his project to the council, who conſult on it alone, and as ſoon as it is accepted, the chief is admitted. He then makes a feaſt, of which the principal diſh is a dog. All this laſts many days; and though all the people ſeem employed in the feaſt, each family puts in its claim to a ſhare of the priſoners that ſhall be made, in order to re⯑pair their loſſes, or revenge their ſlain. Among the Irroquois, as ſoon as a military expedition is reſolved on, they ſet the kettle of war on the fire, and give notice to their allies, to bring ſomething for it. The party being formed, the war-chief prepares a new feaſt, to which all the village is invited; and before any thing [245] is touched, he, or an orator in his name, cries out, ‘Young men, take courage, dreſs your hair, paint your faces, fill your quivers, and make our foreſts reſound with your ſongs of war, for the bones of our friends cry out for revenge, and we will relieve the cares of the dead.’

After this ſpeech, and the applauſes that never fail to follow it, the chief advances into the midſt of the aſſembly, with his fighting-club, or head-breaker, in his hand, and ſings. All his ſoldiers anſwer him ſinging, and ſwear to ſupport him, or die in the attempt. None, however, drop any expreſſion, that denotes the leaſt de⯑pendence; they only promiſe to act with union and harmony. Their ſongs are followed by dances; which are, ſometimes, merely walking to time in a proud ſtep; at others, jumping in lively motions, repreſenting the operations of a campaign, but all to time. The war-chief is only a ſpectator, with a pipe in his mouth.

To try the warriors, the Irroquois never fail, before an expedition, to proceed in the following manner, not conceiving that any man can have true courage, if he is not maſter of his paſſions, and cannot bear the higheſt provocations. The oldeſt of the military troop, affront the young people in the groſſeſt manner they can think of, eſpecially thoſe who have never ſeen an enemy. They throw hot coals upon their heads, reproach them ſharply, load them with the moſt injurious expreſſions, and carry [246] this game to the greateſt extremity. This muſt be borne with a perfect inſenſibility; to ſhew the leaſt impatience, would deem the perſon ſo inſulted, unworthy to bear arms for ever. On ſetting out, they take with them certain drugs, that their jugglers have aſſured them they have given a power to heal the greateſt wounds, and which they are idle enough to believe.

On the day of departure, they take their leave of their friends with great demonſtrations of real tenderneſs. Every one deſires ſomething that has been uſed by the warriors, and, in return, give them ſome pledge of their friendſhip and aſſurance of a perpetual remembrance. They ſcarce enter any cabin, but they take away their robe, to give them a better. Every ſoldier paints his face, according to his own fancy, but all in a frightful manner. The chief leads the way, ſings his death ſong, and the whole party follows him in a line, keeping pro⯑found ſilence; and this they do every morning, when they renew their march. The women go before with proviſions, and, when the warriors come up with them, they give their cloaths into their cuſtody, remaining as naked as the ſeaſon will admit.

The arms of theſe people formerly were bows and arrows, and a kind of javelin, which, as well as their arrows, were pointed with bone; beſides this, they had a little club of hard wood, with a round head, and a cut⯑ting edge, called a head-breaker. The weſtern ſavages [247] have bull's-hide bucklers, light, and proof againſt a muſquet ball. They are now furniſhed with ſwords and guns; our ſwords they uſe like ſpontoons. With their arms, they never forget to take their manitous, or guardian ſpirits.

When they embark upon an expedition, the canoes firſt go a little way, then range themſelves cloſe together in a line. This done, the chief riſes up, and holding a chichicoué in his hand, thunders out his ſong of war, and his ſoldiers anſwer him by a treble hé, drawn, with all their ſtrength, from the bottom of their breaſts. The elders, and chiefs of the council, who remain on ſhore, exhort the warriors to behave well, and not ſuffer themſelves to be ſurprized: But this exhortation does not interrupt the chief, who continues ſinging. The warriors then conjure their relations and friends not to forget them, ſend forth, altogether, a hideous howl, and run off with ſuch ſpeed as ſoon to be out of ſight.

When out on an expedition, they ſeldom make any ſhort marches, eſpecially when their troop is numerous. They take, however, preſages of every thing; and the jugglers, who accompany them, and whoſe buſineſs it is to explain theſe predictions, haſten or retard the marches at their pleaſure. Whilſt they are not in a ſuſpected country, they take little precaution, ſeparate, and each takes his own way to hunt; but, however they may [248] ſtray from the route, they all return punctually to the place, and at the hour appointed, for their rendezvous.

They encamp a long time before ſun-ſet, and com⯑monly leave before their camp a large ſpace, ſur⯑rounded with paliſadoes, or a ſort of lattice, on which they fix their manitous, turned to the place they are go⯑ing to. They invoke them for an hour, and do the ſame every morning before they decamp. After this, they have nothing to fear; they conceive the manitous to be their centinels, and the whole army ſleeps quietly under their ſuppoſed ſafe-guard. Experience does not undeceive theſe barbarians, nor bring them out of their preſumptuous confidence. It has its ſource in an indo⯑lence and lazineſs, which nothing can conquer.

Every one is an enemy in the way of the warriors; but ſhould they meet, on their march, with any of their allies, or any party equally numerous with them⯑ſelves, with whom they have no quarrel, they make friendſhip with each other. If the allies they meet, are at war with the ſame enemy, the chief of the ſtrongeſt party, or of that which took up arms firſt, gives ſome ſcalp [...] to the other, which are the ſkins of the heads of priſoners taken, or an enemy ſlain, and which they are always provided with on theſe occaſions; and ſays to him, "You have done your buſineſs;" that is to ſay, you have ful [...]ll [...]d your engagements; your honour is ſafe; you may return home. But this is to be underſtood, [249] when the meeting is accidental, and when they have no occaſion for a reinforcement. As ſoon as they enter on an enemy's country, they ſtop, make a great feaſt at night, and then lay down to ſleep. When they awake, thoſe who have had any dreams, go from fire to fire, ſinging their death ſong, with which they intermix their dreams in an enigmatical manner. Every one racks his brain to gueſs them; and if no one can do it, the dreamer is at liberty to return home. This gives a fine opportunity to cowards. Next they make new invocations to their ſpirits, animate each other, more than ever, to do won⯑ders, ſwear to aſſiſt each other to the utmoſt, and re⯑new their march. If they come there by water, they now quit their canoes and hide them. Every evening they ſend out rangers, who employ two or three hours looking round the country; and, if they have ſeen nothing, they go to ſleep quietly, leaving the camp, as before, to the guard of their manitous.

When they diſcover the enemy, they ſend out a party to reconnoitre them; and, on their report, hold a coun⯑cil. The attack is generally made at day-break. They ſuppoſe the enemy is at this time in their deepeſt ſleep; and all night they lie on their bellies, without ſtirring. The approaches are made in the ſame poſture, crawling on their feet and hands, till they come to the place. Then, all riſing up, the chief gives the ſignal by a little cry, to which all the troop anſwer, by real howlings, and, at the ſame time, make their firſt diſ⯑charge. [250] Then, without giving the enemy any time to look about, fall on them with their clubs. In latter times theſe people have ſubſtituted tomahawks, or little hatchets, inſtead of head-breakers; and ſince which, their engagements are more bloody. When the battle is over, they take the ſcalps of the dead and dying, and never think of making priſoners till the enemy makes no more reſiſtance.

Should they find the enemy on their guard, or too well entrenched, they retreat, if they have time for it, if not, they take the reſolution to fight ſtoutly; and there is ſometimes much bloodſhed on both ſides. The attack of a camp, is the image of fury itſelf; the barbarous fierceneſs of the conquerors, and the deſpair of the van⯑quiſhed, who know their fate, if they fall into the ene⯑mies' hands, produce, on both ſides, ſuch efforts, as paſs all deſcription. The appearance of the combatants, all beſmeared with black and red, ſtill increaſes the horror of the fight. When the victory is no longer doubtful, they directly diſpatch all thoſe whom it would be too troubleſome to carry off, and ſeek only to tire out the reſt they intend to make priſoners of.

They are naturally intrepid; and, notwithſtanding their brutal fierceneſs, preſerve, in the midſt of action, much coolneſs, and never fight in the field, but when they can't avoid it; from an opinion, that victory, marked with the blood of the conquerors, is not properly a victory, [251] and that the glory of a chief, conſiſts principally, in bringing back all his people ſafe and ſound.

The war of theſe barbarians is commonly made by ſurprize, and generally ſucceeds; for as they very frequently neglect the precautions neceſſary to ſhun a ſurprize, ſo are they active and ſkilful in ſurprizing. They have a wonder⯑ful talent, I may call it inſtinct, of finding out whether any perſon has paſſed a place. On the ſhorteſt graſs, on the hardeſt ground, even upon ſtones, they will diſcover foot-ſteps; and by the way they are turned, by the ſhape of the foot, and the manner they are ſeparated from each other, they will diſtinguiſh the foot-ſteps of different nations, and thoſe of men from thoſe of women.

Till the conquerors are in a country of ſafety, they march forward expeditiouſly; and, leſt the wounded ſhould retard their retreat, carry them by turns on litters, or in winter, draw them on ſledges. When they re-enter their canoes, they make their priſoners ſing, and do the ſame every time they meet their allies, an honour which coſts them a feaſt who receive it, and the unfor⯑tunate captive ſomething more than the trouble of ſing⯑ing; for they invite their allies to careſs them, and to careſs a priſoner, is to do him all the miſchief they can deviſe, or maim him in ſuch a manner as to lame him for ever. But there are chiefs who will take care that their priſoners are not too much ill-treated: leſt they [252] ſhould eſcape, they are tied by the neck and arms to one of the oars of the canoe in the day-time, (when they go by land, there is always one that holds them,) and at night they are ſtretched on the earth quite naked, and ſome cords, faſtened to piquets fixed in the ground, keep their legs, arms, and neck, ſo confined; and ſome long cords alſo confine their hands and feet in ſuch a manner, that they cannot make the leaſt motion without waking the ſavages who lie upon theſe cords.

If among the priſoners, there are found any, who, by their wounds are not in a condition to be carried away, they burn them directly; and, as this is done in the firſt heat, and when they are often in haſte to retreat, they are generally quit at an eaſier rate than the reſt, who are reſerved for a ſlower puniſhment.

The cuſtom among ſome nations is, that the chief of the victorious party, leaves on the field of battle his fighting club, on which he traces the mark of his na⯑tion, that of his family, and the oval of his face, with all the figures he had on his face, traced on that oval. Others paint all theſe marks on the trunk of a tree. Others will add hieroglyphic characters; by means of which, all paſſers-by are made acquainted with the chief, and all the buſineſs of the campaign.

When the warriors, on their return, are arrived at a certain diſtance from the village from whence they came, [253] they halt, and the chief ſends one forward to announce his approach. This man, when within hearing, makes various cries, and the young people, and ſometimes the whole village, come out to meet him, and learn the particulars. As the meſſenger, or herald, relates a fact, one of the party, come out to meet him, repeats it aloud to thoſe that are with him, and they all an⯑ſwer by acclamations, or diſmal cries, according as the news is mournful, or pleaſing. The herald is then conducted to a cabin, where the elders inquire all the particulars, after which, a public crier invites all the young folks to go and meet the warriors, and the women to carry them refreſhments. The moment the women join them is, properly ſpeaking, the beginning of the puniſhment of the priſoners. In ſome nations, they will adopt a priſoner in the room of ſome relation they have loſt in war; in which caſe, they eſcape puniſhment. But ſuch as are deſtined to death, and thoſe whoſe fate are not yet decided, are abandoned to the fury of the women that go out to meet them; and if any woman has loſt either her ſon or her huſband, or any other perſon that was dear to her, though this loſs had happened thirty years before, ſhe is a fury, ſhe attacks the firſt priſoner who falls in her way, has no regard either to humanity or decency, flies at him with rage, and every wound ſhe gives him, one would expect him to fall at her feet, if we did not know the ingenuity of theſe bar⯑barians in prolonging the moſt unheard-of puniſhment. [254] All the night paſſes in this manner in the camp of the warriors.

The next day is their triumph. The Irroquois, and ſome others, affect a great modeſty, and a ſtill greater diſintereſtedneſs on theſe occaſions. The chiefs enter the village alone, without any mark of victory, keeping profound ſilence, and retire to their cabins, without ſhewing the leaſt pretenſion to the priſoners. Among other nations, the chief marches at the head of his troop with the air of a conqueror, his lieutenant follows him, and a crier goes before renewing the death-cries. The warriors follow two by two, and the priſoners in the midſt, crowned with flowers, their faces and hair painted, holding a ſtick in one hand, a chichikoué in the other, their bodies almoſt naked, their arms tied above the elbow, by a cord, which the warriors hold, and the priſoners ſinging their death-ſong, to the ſound of the chichikoué.

This ſong has ſomething mournful, and yet haughty, in it, and the captive has nothing in him of the air of a man, who ſuffers or is vanquiſhed. The ſenſe of theſe ſongs is pretty nearly as follows: ‘I am brave and intrepid, and fear not death, nor any kind of torture; thoſe who do, are cowards, and leſs than warriors. Life is nothing to a brave man! May my enemies be con⯑founded with rage and deſpair! Oh, that I could de⯑vour them, and drink their blood to the laſt drop!’ From time to time they ſtop them; the people gather [255] round, and make the priſoners dance, who ſeem to do it with a good will; and, whilſt they dance, relate the fineſt actions of their lives; boaſt of thoſe they have killed and burnt, and particularly thoſe, if any, for whom the perſons preſent are moſt concerned; thus rouſing the reſentment of the maſters of their fate. In fact, theſe boaſtings make thoſe who hear them quite furious, and they, of courſe, pay dear for their vanity. By the manner in which they receive the moſt cruel treatment, one would be led to ſuppoſe, they took a pleaſure in being tormented.

Sometimes they oblige the priſoners to run through two ranks of ſavages, armed with ſtones and ſticks, who fall on them as if they would knock them on the head at the firſt blow; yet they never kill them, taking care, in all their fury, not to touch a part that would en⯑danger life. In this march to the village, every one has a right to torment them. They are indeed allowed to defend themſelves; but were they to attempt it, they would ſoon be overpowered. When arrived at the vil⯑lage, they lead them from cabin to cabin, and every where make them pay their welcome. In one place they tear off one of their nails, at another, bite off one of their fingers, or cut it off with a bad knife, that cuts like a ſaw; an old man ſhall tear their fleſh quite to the bone, or child wound them where he can with an awl; a woman ſhall whip them, without mercy, till ſhe is ſo tired, that ſhe cannot lift her arms. But [256] the warriors themſelves, who are ſtill their maſters, never lay a hand on them, nor can any one mutilate a priſoner, without their leave, which they ſeldom grant; but, this excepted, they have an entire liberty to make them ſuffer; and if they lead them through ſeveral vil⯑lages, either of the ſame nation, or their neighbours, or allies, who have requeſted it, they are received every where in the ſame manner.

After theſe preludes, they ſet about diſtributing the captives, and their fate depends on thoſe to whom they are delivered. At the riſing of the council, where their fate has been debated, a crier comes forth, and invites all the people to an open place, where the diſtribution is made, without noiſe or diſpute. Thoſe women who have loſt their children or huſbands in the war, generally receive the firſt lot. In the next place, they fulfil their promiſes at firſt ſetting out. If there are not captives enough, they ſupply the want of them by ſcalps, which the receivers wear on rejoicing days, or hang up at their cabin doors. On the contrary, if the number of priſoners exceeds the claims, they ſend the overplus to the villages of their allies. A chief is not re-placed, but by a chief, or by two or three common men, who are always burnt, though thoſe whom they replace have died of diſeaſe. The Irroquois never fail to ſet apart ſome of their pri⯑ſoners for the publick; and theſe the council diſpoſe of as they pleaſe. But mothers of families among them, may ſtill ſet aſide their ſentence, and are the miſtreſſes [257] of life and death, even of thoſe who have been con⯑demned or pardoned by the council.

In general, the greateſt number of the priſoners of war, are condemned to die, or to very hard ſlavery, in which their lives are never ſecure. Some are adopted, as I have obſerved, and, from that time, their condition differs nothing from that of the children of the nation. They enter into all the rights of thoſe whoſe places they ſupply; and they often acquire ſo far the ſpirit of the nation, of which they are become members, that they make no difficulty afterwards of going to war againſt their own countrymen. The Irroquois would ſcarce have ſupported themſelves hitherto, but by this policy. Having been at war many years againſt all the other nations, they would at preſent have been reduced almoſt to nothing, had they not taken great care to naturalize a good part of their priſoners.

Sometimes it happens, that inſtead of ſending the ſur⯑plus of theſe captives into other villages, they give them to private perſons who had not aſked for any; and they ſerve theſe perſons as ſlaves. Adopted priſoners are treated with great tenderneſs; their wounds, if they have any, are dreſſed and healed; they live well, are cloathed decently, and nothing omitted to make them forget their ſufferings. They call theſe adopted priſoners, men "raiſed from the dead;" and give them the name of the perſon whom they re-place.

[258]Amongſt the Hurons and Irroquois, thoſe priſoners, whom they intend to burn, are ſometimes as well treated at firſt, and even till the moment of their execution, as thoſe that have been adopted; like victims fattened for a ſacrifice to the god of war. The only difference made between them is, that they blacken the faces all over of thoſe they deſign to burn. After this they entertain them in the beſt manner, ſpeak kindly to them, call them by the tender names of ſon, brother, or nephew, according to the perſon whoſe manes they mean to appeaſe by their death: Nay, they will often give them young women to ſerve them as wives, all the time they have to live. But when they are informed of their fate, they are cloſe kept to prevent their eſcaping.

When they are delivered to a woman, the mo⯑ment they inform her every thing is ready for execu⯑tion, ſhe is no longer a mother, but a fury, who paſſes from the tendereſt careſſes, to the greateſt paroxyſms of rage. She begins by invoking the ſpirit of him ſhe de⯑ſires to revenge. "Approach," ſays ſhe, "you are going to be appeaſed; I prepare a feaſt for thee; drink great draughts of this broth, which is going to be poured out for thee. Receive the ſacrifice I make; this warrior ſhall be burnt and put into the kettle; they ſhall apply red hot hatchets to his fleſh; they ſhall tear off his ſcalp, they ſhall drink in his ſcull; make therefore no more complaints; thou ſhalt be fully ſatisfied." This form of ſpeech, which is properly the ſentence of death, [259] varies as to terms, but the meaning is always much the ſame. A cryer now makes the captive come from the cabin, and declares aloud the intention of him or her to whom he belongs, and finiſhes by exhorting the young people to behave well. Another cryer ſucceeds, and ad⯑dreſſing him that is to ſuffer, ſays, "Brother, take cou⯑rage, thou art going to be burnt." And he anſwers coolly, "That is well, I give thee thanks." Immediately there is a cry throughout the village, and the priſoner is led to the ſtake, where he is tied, but ſo that he can run round it. Sometimes when the execution is made in a cabin, from whence there is no danger of eſcaping, he is ſuffered to run from one end to another. Before they begin to burn him, he ſings, for the laſt time, his death-ſong, reciting his atchievements, and almoſt always in a manner the moſt inſulting to thoſe about him; he next exhorts them not to ſpare him, but to remember that he is a man and a warrior.

I will not relate all the particulars, that paſs in theſe horrible executions. There are generally as many actors as ſpectators, men, women, and children, who ſtudy to encreaſe his ſufferings and prolong his exiſtence; and the ſufferer, inſtead of ſhewing any fear, or ſigns of pain, glories in the torments he undergoes, inſults his perſecu⯑tors to his laſt breath, and dies, as it were, in a ſtate of triumph. There is a haughtineſs in heart in theſe ſava⯑ges, that elevates the ſpirits, and tranſports the man in the midſt of tortures, which, in ſome meaſure, takes off [260] the edge of pain, by diverting the thoughts. In ſhort, where there are no hopes of mercy, deſpair gives reſolu⯑tion, and inſpires boldneſs.

Mr. Umfreville tells us, that the Hudſon's Bay Com⯑pany being informed, that the Indians frequently brought fine pieces of copper to their ſettlements in Churchill river, appointed a perſon, with proper aſſiſtants, to ex⯑amine the river where this valuable acquiſition was ſup⯑poſed to be concealed. That perſon gives the following account of his expedition; which will deſcribe the Indian method of going to war in this part of the country. "In latitude 62 degrees, 57 minutes north, and 18 degrees weſt longitude, from Churchill river," ſays he, "we built our canoes in 1771; where many northern Indians joined us, and finding we were intended for the copper-mine river that ſummer, between 70 and 80 ſtout fellows agreed to accompany us, with no other intent then to kill the Eſquimaux. I uſed my beſt endeavours to perſuade them from this deſign, but to no purpoſe; for, inſtead of my advice having the deſired effect, they imputed it to cowardice; that being a character I always deſpiſed, I was obliged to ſum up my beſt endeavours, to retrieve my then fading honour, and told them, I cared not if they made the name of an Eſquimaux extinct; and though I was no enemy to them, yet, if I found it neceſſary for my own ſafety, or for the ſafety of thoſe who were with me, I ſhould not be afraid of an Eſquimaux. This declaration cauſed great ſhouts of ſatisfaction. They then [261] began to prepare their targets, or ſhields, which are made of boards three feet long, two broad, and three-fourths of an inch thick, and ſo ſlung on the left arm, as to be of no hindrance in loading and firing their guns.

"Our war implements being all ready, we ſet out on our expedition; and, by the 21ſt of June, were in latitude 68 degrees, 54 minutes north, and 22 degrees 21 minutes weſt, from Churchill. Here we agreed to leave all the women and every other incumbrance. Accordingly, after ſtaying a few days, to kill as many deer and buffa⯑loes as would ſerve them till our return, we proceeded again, and we arrived at the copper-river on the 13th of July, and, as I found afterwards, about 40 miles from its entrance. On our arrival, the Indians diſpatched three men before as ſpies, to ſee if any Eſquimaux were tent⯑ing about the river. On the 15th of the ſame month, as I was continuing my ſurvey towards the mouth of the river, we met the three ſpies above-mentioned, who in⯑formed us of five tents of Eſquimaux being on the weſt ſide of the river, and, by their compariſon of the diſtance, I judged it to be about twelve miles off. On their receiving this news, they would pay no more atten⯑tion to my ſurvey, but their whole thoughts were imme⯑diately engaged in planning the beſt method how to ſteal on them in the night, and kill them while aſleep. After having all their apparatus ready for the enſuing ſlaughter, they began to invoke their different patronizing agents by the following ſuperſtition: All the men painted the front [262] of their targets; ſome with the image of the ſun, others with the moon, others with different kinds of birds and beaſts of prey, and ſome with the images of imaginary furies, which, according to their ſilly imaginations, in⯑habit the elements. By ſtrict enquiry into the cauſe of this ſuperſtition, I found that each man had the image of that agent painted on his target, which he re⯑lied on for ſucceſs in the enſuing enterprize. Some were contented with a ſingle repreſentation, while others (doubtful of the quality of any ſingle being) would have their targets covered to the very margin, with a group of hieroglyphics quite unintelligible. This piece of ſuperſtition being compleated, we then began to advance towards the Eſquimaux. The number of our company being ſo far ſuperior to the five tents of Eſquimaux, por⯑tended no leſs than a total maſſacre, unleſs kind Provi⯑dence ſhould work a miracle in their favour. It was about ten o'clock in the morning when they made their attack upon their unhappy enemies, whom they found faſt aſleep. In a few minutes the havock was be⯑gun, myſelf ſtanding neuter in the rear. Preſently, a ſcene, truly ſhocking, preſented itſelf to my view; for, as the Eſquimaux were ſurprized at a time when they thought themſelves in the midſt of ſecurity, they had neither power nor time to make any reſiſtance. Men, women, and children, ran out of the tents, ſtark-naked; but where could they fly for ſhelter? They ſoon fell a ſacrifice to Indian fury. The ſhrieks and groans of the expiring were truly horrible; and it was much increaſed [263] by the ſight of a young girl, about 18 years old, whom they killed ſo near me, that when the firſt ſpear was through her, ſhe fell down and twiſted herſelf about my legs; and it was ſome difficulty for me to diſengage my⯑ſelf from her dying graſps. As the Indians purſued her, I ſolicited for her life; but this was ſo far from being granted, that I was not fully aſſured of my own being en⯑tirely in ſafety, for offering to ſpeak in her behalf. When I begged her life, the fellows made no reply, till they had both their ſpears through her, and fixed into the ground. They then looked ſternly in my face, and began to upbraid me, aſking me, if I wanted an Eſquimaux wife; at the ſame time paying no regard to the ſhrieks of the poor girl, who was then turning about the ſpears like an eel; indeed, I was obliged at laſt to requeſt them to be more expeditious in diſpatching her out of her miſery, otherwiſe I ſhould be obliged, in pity, to aſſiſt in that friendly office, by putting an end to a life ſo mortally wounded. When this horrid work was compleated, we obſerved ſeven more tents on the oppoſite ſide of the river, the people belonging to them appeared to be in great confuſion, but did not offer to make their eſcape; the Indians fired many ſhots at them, acroſs the river, but the poor Eſquimaux were ſo unacquainted with the nature of guns, that when the bullets ſtruck the rocks, they ran in crowds to ſee what was ſent them, and ſeemed curious in examining the pieces of lead they found flat⯑tened on the rocks, till at laſt one man was ſhot through the calf of the leg; after which they immediately em⯑barked [264] in their canoes, with their wives and children, and paddled to a ſhoal in the river. After the invaders had killed every ſoul they could get at, they began break⯑ing the ſtone-kettles, and copper-work, which the Eſ⯑quimaux made uſe of, inſtead of iron; and when they had plundered their tents of every thing worth their notice, they threw the tent-poles into the river; where, finding an old woman ſpearing of ſalmon, every man thruſted his ſpear into her, and barbarouſly butchered her."

CHAP. VII. On the Hudſon-Bay Trade.

HAVING frequently mentioned this company, the reader will, I truſt, not be diſpleaſed at having ſome little account of it, and its trade with the Indians of North America.

Though this company has been chartered ſince the year 1678, and enjoy an excluſive right of trading throughout all the country round Hudſon's-Bay, indefi⯑nitely to the weſtward, whether explored or unexplored, the number of proprietors in 1749 were only 97, and their ſtock amounted to no more than 103,000l.

[265]They have ſix ſettlements in the Bay, between north latitude 51 and 59, and weſt longitude from London 78 to 93. In theſe ſix ſettlements they have but 240 people, and employ but two ſhips, and a ſloop to take out ſundry articles of merchandize, and bring home peltries, or ſkins. The burden of theſe three veſſels fall ſhort of ſix hundred tons, having on board about 75 men, who, with the 240 reſiding in the country, make the whole number in their employ 315. Beſides ſkins, they bring home a little ivory, whale-oil, and a ſmall quantity of gooſe-feathers for beds, and gooſe-quills; and take out Britiſh ſpirits, and ſundry trifling articles, of little or no value. A gallon of ſpirits, which coſts the company 20d. will purchaſe of the Indians eight beaver-ſkins, worth 6l. ſterling, and a four-penny comb will barter for a bear's ſkin, worth 40s. ſterling. It is a pity government ſhould not put an end to this exclu⯑ſive trade, which at preſent is ſo trifling an object to them, the annual returns not exceeding 30,000l. and which might, by being at large, be productive of great advantages.

The Canadian merchants have formed themſelves into an united company, and carry on a very extenſive buſineſs over an unlimited extent of country among Indians, who are declared enemies to each other. This company alone, without reckoning theſe adventurers, who trade in the parts adjacent to the Miſſiſippi, annually procure 1,000 packs of fine peltry, weighing 90lb. each, worth 12s. a [266] pound, whereas the Hudſon's-Bay Company do not im⯑port into England one-fourth of the quantity.

I will cloſe this account with Mr. Umfreville's deſcrip⯑tion of the ravages which the ſmall-pox made among the Indians, in the years 1781 and 1782, when an almoſt uni⯑verſal mortality ſpread itſelf throughout the country, in the interior part of Hudſon's-Bay, extending its deſtruc⯑tive effects through every tribe and nation, ſparing nei⯑ther age nor ſex.

The diſtreſſes of the Indians, by this viſitation, demands pity from every humane perſon. As the ſmall-pox had never before been among them, and they were utter ſtrangers to its malignity, they were not much alarmed at its firſt appearance. Numbers, however, began to die on every ſide. The infection ſpread rapidly, and hundreds lay expiring, without aſſiſtance, without courage, or the leaſt hopes of recovery; for, when an Indian finds himſelf ſick, he reſigns himſelf up to a ſtate of inſenſible ſtupefaction. And as the uncertainty of a ſavage life is ſuch, that one day he ſhall be exulting in the midſt of plenty, and the next pining under the miſery of want, they were now deprived of all manner of ſupport.

Without the leaſt medicinal help, or that common aid which their caſe required, a prey to hunger and diſeaſe, theſe forlorn Indians lay expiring in their tents, under the accumulated weight of every ſcourge which [267] human nature can experience. Wolves, and other wild beaſts, infeſted and entered their habitations, and dragged them out, whilſt life yet remained, to devour their miſerable, morbid carcaſes: even their faithful dogs, worn out with hunger, joined the ferocious wolves in their unnatural depredation. Heads, legs, and arms, lay indiſcriminately ſcattered about, as food for the birds of the air, and the beaſts of the mountains; and as none were buried, the very air became infectious, and tended to waft about the baneful contagion. Such has been the fate of many of the tribes inhabiting theſe parts, and which has nearly terminated in their extinction.

CHAP. I. Of the Country, Animals, and Productions.

THE country we are going to deſcribe is diſtin⯑guiſhed in maps by three different names, Cali⯑fornia, New Albion, and the Iſlas Carolinas. It was called New Albion by Sir Francis Drake, who, in his ſecond voyage round the world, touched at this country in 1577; but the moſt ancient name, and that by which it is beſt known, is California, and ſuch we ſhall call it.

It is now known that this country is not an iſland but a peninſula, joined to the continent of America, in the moſt northern part diſcovered by the Spaniards, in the South Sea, or Pacific Ocean. It is a large point of land, iſſuing from the north coaſt of America, and ex⯑tending [269] to the ſouth-eaſt, waſhed, on both ſides, by the Pacific Sea, beyond the tropics, ſo that the ſouth point of it lies in the Torrid Zone, and nearly oppoſite to the pro⯑vince of Guadalaxara, on which it depends. The weſt⯑ern coaſt of California runs to the ſouthward, extending 22 degrees to Cape Blanco de San Sebaſtian, and the eaſtern or inward coaſt, on an accurate examination, ap⯑pears to reach ten degrees, till it meets with the great river Colorado. Between theſe two coaſts is the pe⯑ninſula of California; and the arm of the ſea between the eaſtern coaſt of the peninſula and the continent, is called the Gulph or Bay of California, and is in ſome places 40, ſome 50, and ſome 60 leagues broad. Into the upper end of this gulph, the great river Colorado diſ⯑charges its waters. This river lies between 44 and 22 degrees of north latitude. Ellis places Cape Blanco in 124 degrees weſt longitude from London, which is equal to 144 degrees of the common longitude.

Of all the rivers in the vaſt extent of the vice-royalty of Mexico, Colorado is the largeſt, its mouth at its en⯑trance into the gulph being near a league wide, and ly⯑ing in north latitude 32 degrees 30 minutes, it runs di⯑rectly north and ſouth, from the 34th degree till it loſes itſelf in the ſea.

Till the beginning of this century, no European had penetrated into the inland parts of California, of courſe any accounts given of it cannot be relied on. The limits [270] already ſubdued by Spain, are about 300 leagues north from Cape San Lucas, which is ſituated in the moſt ſouthern point. Its breadth, within theſe limits, from ſea to ſea, is, in ſome places, 40 leagues wide, ſome 30, ſome 20, and in ſome only 10 leagues.

The air is in general dry and hot to a great degree, and the earth barren, rugged, and wild, every where over-run with mountains, rocks, and ſands, with little water; conſequently unfit either for agriculture, plant⯑ing, or grazing. Keno, who croſſed the river Colorado, between 34 and 35 degrees, and took a very careful ſurvey of the countries to the weſt of this river, aſſures us, that there are level and fruitful tracts, interſperſed with many delightful woods, plenty of water, fine paſ⯑tures, and as proper a country for making ſettlements as can be deſired: the idea therefore of barrenneſs is not to be extended beyond the 32d degree north. Indeed, though I have ſaid generally, that the peninſula is barren, I would by no means infer, that it is univerſally ſo; it is not without plains, here and there, both for paſture and tillage, and even in the centre of California, there are ſome vallies and riſing grounds of a tolerable ſoil, having ſprings for drinking, and watering the grounds. In theſe parts it is, that the poor Californians have their dwellings; and here likewiſe are the Cabeceras of the Miſſions, that is, the principal towns where the Miſſionary uſually reſides, and the villages within their viſitation. But along the whole inward coaſt, from Cape San Lucas [271] to the river Colorado, there are only two ſtreams, and theſe but ſmall. On both ſides the river Santo Thomé, which riſes between 26 and 27 degrees of north latitude, and, after croſſing the whole peninſula, empties itſelf into the South Sea, at 26 degrees; forming, at its mouth, a large harbour: I ſay, on both ſides of this river are chriſtian villiages.

In California are now found all kinds of domeſtic animals, commonly uſed in Spain and Mexico; horſes, mules, aſſes, oxen, ſheep, hogs, goats, dogs, and cats. They have been imported from New Spain, and thrive here very well: but here are two ſpecies of wild animals, not known in Old or New Spain, The firſt is that which the Californians call Taye; it is about the ſize of a calf, a year and a half old, and greatly reſembles it in figure, except in its head, which is like that of a deer, with very thick horns like a ram; its hoof is large, round, and clo⯑ven, like that of an ox; its ſkin is ſpotted like a deer, but the hair thinner, and it has a ſhort tail like a deer; the fleſh is very palatable, and, to ſome, taſtes delicious. The other animal peculiar to this country is the Cayoté, or wild dog, very much reſembling a fox. Here are alſo leopards, ſuch as they call lions in Mexico; goats, cats, and wild hogs, are frequently found in the moun⯑tains, and Torquemada obſerves, that, about Monté-Rey are very large bears, tigers, an animal ſomething like a buffalo, and a creature which he thus deſcribes: It is about the ſize of a ſteer, but ſhaped like a ſtag; its hair reſembles that of a pelican, and is a quarter of a [272] yard in length; its neck long; and on its head are horns, like thoſe of a ſtag; the tail is a yard long, and half a yard broad; and its feet cloven, like the feet of an ox.

With reſpect to reptiles and inſects, beſides the com⯑mon ones, here are alſo thoſe which uſually abound in hot countries, as vipers, efts, ſcorpions, lizards, &c. but no bugs, and other miſchievous inſects, ſo common to America.

Of birds, there are an infinite variety. Among theſe, for the table, are turtle-doves, herons, quails, pheaſants, geeſe, ducks, and pidgeons. The birds of prey are vultures, hawks, falcons, oſſiphrages, horn-owls, ravens, and crows. Of night-birds, there are owls, and many others of a ſmaller kind, not ſeen in other parts, nor men⯑tioned by any naturaliſts; nor have the narratives of the Jeſuits ſupplied us with a deſcription, or even with the names of them. California has a great variety of ſing⯑ing-birds, as larks, nightingales, and the like, adorned with beautiful plumages. Torquemada ſays, that about the harbour of Monté-Rey are buſtards, peacocks, geeſe, thruſhes, ſwallows, ſparrows, goldfinches, linnets, quails, partridges, blackbirds, water-wagtails, cranes, and other birds reſembling turkey-cocks, ſo large as to be 17 palms from the extremity of one wing to that of the other; and alſo a particular ſpecies of gulls, that live on pilchards and other fiſh, equal in ſize to a very large [273] gooſe, their bill a foot long, with long legs reſembling a ſtork, their beak and feet like thoſe of a gooſe. They have a vaſt craw, which in ſome hangs down like the leather bottles uſed in Peru for carrying water, in which craws they carry what they catch to their young ones. The friendly diſpoſition of theſe birds is ſomething ſur⯑prizing, for they aſſiſt one another when ſick or wounded, and bring that bird proviſion that is unable to ſearch for it. The Indians profit by this; for, when they want a diſh of fiſh, they will wound and tie a gull to a particu⯑lar ſpot, conceal themſelves, and, when they think all the proviſion is brought them which other gulls deſigned, they advance and ſeize the contribution: ſuch are the myſterious ways of Providence for the ſupport of his creatures!

There is very little timber in this country, and the mountains all over this vaſt tract are totally bare of ver⯑dure, or, at moſt, only covered with ſmall ſhrubs, briars, and low trees; but many of them have excellent fruit, ſome common to Europe, and others peculiar to Ame⯑rica.

But among the plants and ſhrubs which moſt abound in California, the principal is the Pitahaga, a kind of beech, the fruit of which forms the great harveſt of the poor inhabitants here. This tree is not known in Europe, and differs from all other trees in the world; its branches are fluted, and riſe vertically from the ſtem, [274] ſo as to form a very beautiful top; they are without leaves, the fruit growing to the boughs. The fruit is like a horſe cheſnut, and full of prickles, but the pulp re⯑ſembles that of a ſig, only more ſoft and luſcious. In ſome it is white, in ſome red, and in others yellow, but always of an exquiſite taſte; ſome again are wholly ſweet; others of a grateful acid; but its moſt valuable quality is its being a ſpecific againſt the diſtemper de Loanda. There is alſo a plumb-tree here, that, inſtead of reſin or gum, throws out a very fine and fragrant incenſe, in ſuch quan⯑tities that they mix it with tallow for paying the bottoms of ſhips. Every kind of fruit-tree, and all kinds of eſculent roots and herbs growing in New Spain, have been brought here, and have ſucceeded well.

It is not abſolutely aſcertained, what kind of minerals are produced in California, but it is natural to ſuppoſe, that there are many rich mines, as the oppoſite coaſt in the provinces of Lonora and Pimeria are known to abound with them; for in the year 1730, a vein was diſcovered on an eminence, not far from the garriſon of Pimeria, the ore of which, with a little labour, yielded ſo large a quantity of ſilver as ſurprized the inhabitants of New Spain; and it remained ſome time a queſtion, whether it was a mine or treaſures hid by the Indians. Some have alſo been diſcovered which contain veins of other metals. Rock-ſalt is alſo found here of a white⯑neſs equal to cryſtal, and ſamples of it have been car⯑ried to Mexico.

[275]But if the ſoil of California is in general barren, the ſcarcity of proviſions is ſupplied by the adjacent ſea; for both in the Pacific Ocean, and in the Gulf of California, the multitude and variety of fiſhes are incredible.

Of the amphibious kind, there are a ſpecies of beaver, and ſome few ſea lions, that frequent the deſert iſlands of both ſeas. Of the teſtaceous kind, the moſt remarkable is the tortoiſe. On the South-ſea coaſt are ſome ſmall conches peculiar to it, and perhaps the moſt beautiful in the world; the luſtre exceeding that of the fineſt mother-of-pearl, and appearing through a tran⯑ſparent varniſh of a moſt vivid blue, like the lapis lazuli. It is thought, that if theſe were imported into Europe, the aqua marina would no longer be valued. Theſe are univalves, and conſequently different from the ſhell-fiſh in which the pearls are found, the latter being bi⯑valves, like our oyſters; theſe laſt lie ſo thick along the whole coaſt, that they may be counted by thouſands. They are called Madras perlas, and their abundance has rendered California ſo famous, that great numbers of per⯑ſons, during the laſt two centuries, have viſited this place, and ſearched every part of the gulph merely with a view of enriching themſelves by theſe pearls. The ſea of California, ſays Torquemada, affords very rich pearl-fiſheries, where, in three or four fathom water, the hoſtias, or beds of oyſters, may be ſeen as plain as if they were on the ſurface of the water. This fiſhery is carried on by divers; but, as the water in the gulph is [276] not very deep, it is attended with leſs labour and danger than thoſe on the coaſt of Malabar, and other parts of the Eaſt-Indies. Great numbers reſort to this fiſhery, from New Spain, New Galicia, Culiacan, Cinaloa, and Sonora.

Father Piccolo obſerves, that, in the months of April, May, and June, there falls with the dew a kind of manna, which becomes inſpiſated on the leaves of the trees, and which has all the ſweetneſs of ſugar, though not ſo white. This good father talks, according to the common opinion, as if this manna dropped from Heaven; but botaniſts are agreed, that it is a juice exſudating from the plants themſelves, as gums, incenſe, balſams, and reſins do. It is no wonder that the trees of Cali⯑fornia ſhould exſudate manna, ſince many parts of Spain produce it in an aſtoniſhing plenty, and for medical uſes equal to that of Calabria, or Sicily. Among the moun⯑tains of Avila, and the Péderochés, or ſeven towns of Cordova, ſituated among the mountains of Andaluſia, and other parts, there is as much manna produced, about the dog-days, as is ſufficient to ſupply the whole world, which, till the year 1752, was not noticed, but was uſed only by the bees in forming their combs; but in the year juſt mentioned, on the repreſentation of the Royal College of Phyſicians at Madrid, the king gave orders that two of its members ſhould examine into the qua⯑lities of this drug, and its efficacy be experimentally proved by exhibiting it to the patients in the hoſpitals.

CHAP. II. Of the People, Government, &c.

OF all the nations hitherto diſcovered, the Califor⯑nians are at leaſt equal to any in the make of their bodies; their faces are alſo far from diſagreeable, though their daubing them with ointments, painting them, and boring holes through their noſtrils and ears, are very great diſadvantages; their complexion, indeed, is more tanned and ſwarthy than that of the other Indians of New Spain; but they are in general robuſt, vigorous, and of a healthy countenance.

There are three nations of Indians in California, who ſpeak three different languages; but the dreſs throughout the whole peninſula is uniform; for males, whether children or adults, go at all times totally naked. But amidſt this naked ſimiliarity there is ſome diverſity in the ornaments uſed by every nation. In the ſouthern parts the people decorate their heads with ſtrings of pearl, braided with their hair; with theſe they interweave ſmall feathers, the whole forming an ornament, which, at a diſtance, reſembles a periwig. The nation of Loretto generally wear round their waiſt a becoming girdle, and on their forehead a curious fillet of net-work; to theſe ſome add a neck-cloth, with ſome well-wrought figures [278] of nacar, and ſometimes ſome ſmall round fruits, like beads, which in ſome meaſure reſemble a roſary, hang⯑ing on their breaſt; they alſo adorn their arms with bracelets of the ſame works. The Cochines of the north uſually keep their hair ſhort, a few only excepted, who ſuffer it to hang down upon their ſhoulders. If they do not uſe pearls, like thoſe of the ſouth, they have a more ſplendid ornament, a kind of diadem, or crown, formed of ſeveral bands of nacar. To compoſe this, they firſt detach the mother of pearl from the ſhell, give it a fine poliſh on both ſides, and, by means of a ſlint, divide it into ſmall pieces, in which they bore holes to ſtring them. When one of theſe Indians offered Sir Francis Drake ſuch a diadem or head dreſs, he conceived they offered him the crown and ſceptre of California.

Though the women in ſome parts go naked as the men, yet, in general, they ſhew a great attention to that decency, which is ſo neceſſary to the defence of their virtue, and to ſuch a degree that even infant girls are not without a proper covering. Towards Cape San Lucas is a certain ſpecies of palm-trees, different from thoſe which produce dates, and from theſe the Indian women procure materials for their petticoats: in order to which they beat it, as we do flax, till the threads or filaments are ſeparated. Their garments conſiſt of three pieces, two of which form a petticoat, reaching from the girdle to the feet, and the third a ſhort cloak, or mantlet, which covers the body from the ſhoulders: theſe pieces are [279] not woven, and the threads are faſtened at the top with one another, as in fringes, and hang down in very cloſe and thick ſkains and tufts; and though they make a ſort of linen of theſe jutas or palm-threads, they only uſe it for bags in which they keep their inſtruments. The Indian women of Cape San Lucas wear their hair long, looſe, and ſpread on their ſhoulders; but their head-dreſs is the ſame with that generally worn by all the women of California. It conſiſts of a piece of net-work, made with ſuch ingenuity, that the ſoldiers of the garriſons likewiſe uſe them.

The women of the northern parts wear a different and a meaner garment, being covered only from the waiſt to the knees. Before, they wear a petticoat made of very thin pieces of ſedge, cut off at the knots, and about the ſize of a ſtraw. Theſe they faſten together with threads, and barely ſerve to hide thoſe parts which nature has taught them to conceal, but does not defend them from the inclemencies of the weather. In ſome few places, it is the cuſtom to cover their bodies with cloaks, made with the ſkins of wild beaſts.

One of the higheſt feſtivals among the Cochines, is the day in which they annually diſtribute the ſkins to the women. All the neighbouring rancherias, or villages, meet at an appointed place, and there, with branches of trees, and buſhes, erect a ſpacious arbour, from which they clear a broad and level way for racers. Here they [280] bring the ſkins of all the beaſts they have killed that year, and lay them as a carpet along the courſe. None but the chiefs are admitted into the arbour; and when the banquet, which conſiſts of game, fiſh, and fruit, is over, they intoxicate themſelves with cimarron, or wild tobacco. At the entrance of the arbour a ſorcerer takes his place, dreſſed in the habit of ceremony, and, with wild vociferations, proclaims the praiſes of the hunters. In the mean time, the other Indians run to and fro, in a frantic manner, on the ſkins; whilſt the women, who aſſiſt at this cere⯑mony, ſing and dance with equal tranſport. This con⯑tinues till the orator is quite ſpent, when the harangue concludes, and with it the races. The chiefs then come out of the arbour, and diſtribute to the women the ſkins for their cloathing that year; and this diſtribution is cele⯑brated with freſh rejoicings. The foundation of all this feſtivity was, that theſe poor women were acquainted with no greater ornament than the ſkin of a deer, though it ſcarcely covered their nakedneſs, with any tolerable degree of modeſty.

The men, however, were, and are ſuch ſtrangers to that virtue, that they conſider thoſe principles as igno⯑minious and diſgraceful, which require their being cloathed; and, accordingly, when any of the miſſionaries, or ſoldiers, offer them cloaths, they either refuſe them, or throw them away. Indeed their ideas, with regard to cloathing, is ſo different from the reſt of the human [281] ſpecies, that, Father Salva Tierra tells us, they were highly affronted when he firſt directed them to cover at leaſt what modeſty requires, not being in the leaſt ſenſible of any indecency from their being naked; and it cauſed as much laughter to ſee one of their own coun⯑trymen cloathed, as a monkey, dreſſed like an officer, would among us, of which he had a diverting inſtance.

A miſſionary, on his arrival at his miſſion, cloathed two little boys, which he entertained in his houſe, firſt to teach them the language, and afterwards to ſerve him as catechumens. The Father himſelf was at the pains of cutting out, making, and fitting the cloaths for them. When the lads firſt went abroad in their new dreſs, it occaſioned ſuch indecent mirth, that the boys, aſhamed at being thus the ridicule of their countrymen, pulled off their cloaths, and hung them on a tree. But being un⯑willing to ſhew themſelves ungrateful to the Father, and at the ſame time to avoid being reprimanded, they de⯑termined to divide his kindneſs, going in the day-time naked among their relations, and at night dreſſing them⯑ſelves to return to the Father.

The houſes of the Californians make no better appear⯑ance than their habits. Thoſe of every rancheria, or village, are merely wretched huts, ſituated near the few waters found in this country; and as there is a neceſſity of removing to other places in queſt of ſubſiſtence, they eaſily ſhift their ſtation. Wherever they ſtop, they [282] ſhelter themſelves under the trees, from the ſcorching heat of the ſun by day, and the coldneſs and incle⯑mency of the weather by night. In ſevere winters they live in caverns, which they either dig themſelves, or find in the ſides of mountains. Their houſes are but a ſmall ſpace, encloſed with ſtones, laid one upon another, half a yard high, are ſquare, and without any covering but the heavens; dwellings, indeed, ſo ſcanty and mean, that an European tomb would be here reckoned a palace. For, within this ſmall precinct, not having room to lie at full length, they ſleep in a ſitting poſture. The miſ⯑ſionaries have erected houſes for them, with unburnt bricks, covered with ſedge, but there ſeems no poſſibi⯑lity of bringing them to live in them, for they ſhew the greateſt uneaſineſs at being under any covering: a proof, that the greateſt part of what are called the neceſſaries of life, ariſe purely from fancy, example, and cuſtom.

It is true, they ſtand in no need of large rooms for depoſiting their furniture, and the various articles of a wardrobe, with which the greateſt part of our houſes is taken up. With ſo little furniture, and ſo few utenſils do the Indians content themſelves, that, in removing, they carry all on their back; for they conſiſt only of a boat, a dart, a diſh, a bowl, made in the ſhape of a high-crowned hat, a bone, which ſerves them for an awl in making it, a little piece of touchwood for kindling a fire, a pitahaya-net, in which they put their fruit and [283] ſeeds; another in the ſhape of a purſe, or bag, faſtened to a kind of prong acroſs their ſhoulders, in which they carry their children; and, laſtly, their bow and arrows, to which ſome, who affect elegance, add a ſhell for drinking. Thoſe who live near the coaſt, have alſo nets for fiſhing. This furniture the women carry; the men burthen themſelves only with their bows and arrows, and the materials to repair them. Theſe ma⯑terials are flints, and feathers for the arrows, and nerves for bow-ſtrings, which, not to incommode them in travelling, they carry in a large caſe, which they hang to their ears, by boring a hole through them. The men alſo carry a ſmall bit of wood for procuring fire, which is ſoon done by rubbing it between their hands. They like⯑wiſe carry their boats, which are made of the bark of trees, and which it is the province of the women to repair. Every part of their boats is ſo curiouſly made, as to be admired by Europeans. They often fetch and and keep water in theſe boats. It is the buſineſs of the men to make the nets; and in this they ſhew exquiſite ſkill, making them of ſo many different colours, ſizes, and ſuch a variety of workmanſhip, that it is not eaſy to deſcribe them; no nets made in Europe being in any reſpect equal to them, either for beauty, ſtrength, or finiſhing.

The Californians admit of a plurality of wives, who provide for the family, and are diligent in bringing their huſband a ſufficient quantity of fruits from the foreſt, to [284] keep them in good humour; for if once they are diſ⯑carded, no other man will take them: ſo that the more wives a man has, the better he is provided for; and this principally contributes to keep up the brutal cuſtom. The nation of Loretto is, indeed, more moderate, the chief men among them never having more than two wives, whilſt the generality are contented with one. Adultery is accounted a crime that calls for revenge, except on two occaſions. One, at their feſtivals and routs, and the other at their wreſtling matches, among the rancherias; as on theſe occaſions it is the ſcandalous privilege of the victor. Among the Cochines, or Cochinies of the north, ſcarce any ſuch exceſs is known; and a miſſionary, ſpeaking of his diſtrict, ſays, that, amidſt the unbounded freedom of theſe Indians, de⯑bauchery, or an illegal amour is ſeldom ſeen, which he attributes to the uncomfortable life they lead among the mountains, in hunger, cold, nakedneſs, and the want of every thing deſirable.

The Californians had adopted that abſurdity, which is ſo much laughed at in the accounts of Brazil, namely, that of the women going, immediately after delivery, to ſome water to waſh themſelves and the child; and in other particulars, uſing no manner of caution, but going to the foreſt for wood and food, and performing every other ſervice the huſband wanted; whilſt he lay in his cave, or ſtretched at full length under a tree, affecting to be extremely ill and weak. Mothers were even known to deſtroy their children, in any ſcarcity of food, till Father Salva Tierra put a ſtop to this unnatural practice, by ordering that a double allowance ſhould be given to women newly delivered. It was alſo an eſta⯑bliſhed cuſtom among them, like that in the Jewiſh law, for a widow to marry the brother, or neareſt relation of the deceaſed.

The time of gathering the pitahayas is their vintage, and they celebrate it with particular mirth and rejoicings. "The three pitahaya months," ſays Salva Tierra, "re⯑ſemble the carnival in ſome parts of Europe, when the men are, in a great meaſure, ſtupified or mad. At this time the nation throw aſide what little reaſon they have, giving themſelves up to feaſtings, dancings, entertain⯑ments of the neighbouring rancherias, and buffooneries; and in theſe whole nights are ſpent, to the high diverſion [286] of the audience. The actors are choſen for their talent of imitation, and they execute their parts admirably well.

As practice naturally produces perfection, their ex⯑cellence in theſe dances is not to be wondered at, it being their whole occupation in time of peace. They dance at their weddings; on any good ſucceſs in fiſhing or hunting; at the birth of their children; at a plentiful harveſt; at a victory over their enemies; and on any other occaſion, without weighing the importance of it. To theſe feſtivities the rancherias uſually invite one another; and likewiſe often ſend challenges for wreſtling, leaping, running, ſhooting with their bow, and trials of ſtrength; and in theſe and the like ſports, days and nights, weeks and months, are often ſpent in times of peace. But theſe tranquil ſeaſons are ſubject to frequent interruptions of wars, factions, and feuds of ſome nations and rancherias againſt others. The end of theſe com⯑motions is not the acquiſition of ſame, or the enlarge⯑ment of territory, but uſually revenge for affronts, or injuries among private perſons; or ſometimes they ariſe from more ſubſtantial cauſes; when a rancheria, or nation has a right to fiſh, hunt, or gather fruits, where another has a kind of right by preſcription, the man⯑ner of revenge is to commit ſome hoſtility, or do ſome damage to the perſon chiefly offending; or if he is be⯑yond their power, to do it to his kindred, or rancheria. After this, all make the cauſe their own; and if they do [287] not think themſelves able to give battle to their enemies, they apply to other rancherias for ſuccour, with whom they are in amity. The manner of declaring war, is with a frightful noiſe, ordering every one to provide great quantities of reeds and flints, taking care that this declaration ſhall not reach their adverſaries, that, by terrifying them, they may obtain the eaſier victory. When they come to action, they ſet up a ſhout, and en⯑gage without any regularity, except in relieving the bodies in front, when they give way, either as quite ſpent, or for want of arrows, which are made of reeds, with ſharp flints for their points, but not poiſoned. When the en⯑gagement becomes cloſe, they make uſe of a kind of wooden ſpears, with the points ſharpened and hardened in the fire, which do equal execution with thoſe pointed with ſteel. The victory is gained, not ſo much by addreſs, conduct, ſtrength, and courage, as by keeping up their ſpirits againſt their innate fear, or inſpiring the enemy with it.

The characteriſtics of the Californians, as well as of all other Indians, are ſtupidity, and inſenſibility; want of knowledge and reflection; inconſtancy, impetuoſity, and blindneſs of appetite; an exceſſive ſloth, and abhorrence of all labour and fatigue; an inceſſant love of pleaſure and amuſement of every kind, however trifling or brutal; puſil⯑lanimity and relaxneſs; in ſhort, a moſt wretched want of every thing which conſtitutes the real man, and renders him rational, inventive, tractable, and uſeful to himſelf and [288] ſociety. It is not eaſy for Europeans, who never were out of their own country, to conceive an adequate idea of theſe people; for, even in the leaſt frequented corners of the globe, there is not a nation ſo ſtupid, of ſuch contracted ideas, and ſo weak both in body and mind, as the unhappy Cali⯑fornians. Their underſtanding comprehends little more than what they ſee, abſtract ideas, and much leſs a chain of reaſoning, being fa [...] beyond their power; ſo that they ſcarce can improve their firſt ideas, and theſe are in general falſe and inadequate. It is in vain to repreſent to them any future advantages, which will reſult to them by doing, or abſtaining, from this or that particular, the relation of means and ends being beyond the ſtretch of their faculties: nor have they the leaſt notion [...] ſuch intentions as will procure them⯑ſelves ſome future good, or guard them againſt evils. Their inſenſibility to corporeal objects, ſhew what little re⯑gard they have to future rewards and puniſhments. They have only a few faint glimmerings of moral virtues and vices; ſo that ſome things appear good, and others evil, without any reflection; and though they enjoy the light of natural reaſon, and that divine grace, which is given to all without diſtinction, yet, the one is ſo weak, and the other ſo little attended to, that, without any regard to decency, pleaſure and profit are the ſpring and end of all their actions.

[289]Their will is proportionate to their faculties; and all their paſſions move in a very narrow ſphere. Ambition, they have none; and are more anxious to be accounted ſtrong, than valiant. The moſt that is obſerved in them is, ſome little emulation. To ſee their companions praiſed or rewarded, rouſes them, and is, indeed, the only thing which ſtimulates, and prevails on them to ſhake off their innate ſloth. They are equally free from avarice, that deſtructive paſſion, which makes ſuch havock in polite nations. The utmoſt extent of their deſires, is to get the preſent day's food, without much fatigue, taking little care for that of the enſuing day.

This diſpoſition of mind, as it gives them up to an amazing languor, and laſſitude, their lives fleeting away in a perpetual inactivity and deteſtation of labour; ſo it likewiſe leads them to be attracted by the firſt object, which their own fancy, or the perſuaſion of another, places before them; and at the ſame time renders them as prone to alter their reſolutions with the ſame facility. They look with indifference on any kindneſs done them; nor is the bare remembrance of it to be expected from them. Their hatred and revenge are excited by the ſlighteſt cauſes; but they are as eaſily appeaſed, and even without any ſatisfaction, eſpecially if they meet with oppoſition. For, though courage ſeems the only thing they value, it may be ſaid, with truth, that they have not the leaſt notion of true bravery. Their rancour and fury laſt no longer than whilſt they meet with reſiſtance. [290] The leaſt thing daunts them; and when once they begin to yield, their fear will induce them to ſtoop to the baſeſt indignities. As, on the contrary, by obtaining any advantage, or if the enemy becomes diſheartened, they ſwell with the moſt extravagant pride. In a word, theſe unhappy mortals may be compared to children, in whom the developement of reaſon is not compleated. They may, indeed, be called a nation who never arrive at manhood. Their predominant paſſion is ſuitable to ſuch an unhappy condition, in which they make ſo little uſe of reaſon; I mean, a violent fondneſs for all kind of diverſion, pleaſure, feſtivals, games, dancing, and revels, in which they brutiſhly waſte their miſerable days. However, in the Californians are ſeen few of thoſe bad diſpoſitions, for which the other Americans are infamous. No ſtrong liquors are uſed among them; and it is only on their feſtivals that they intoxicate themſelves, and then with the ſmoke of wild tobacco. What little every one has, is ſafe from theft; quarrels are rarely known among them; and the ſeveral members of a rancheria live in great harmony among themſelves, and peaceably with others. All their malice and rage they reſerve for their enemies: and ſo far are they from obſtinacy, harſhneſs, or cruelty, that nothing can exceed their docility and gentleneſs; conſequently are eaſily perſuaded to good or evil.

The government of the Californians cannot be ſup⯑poſed to exceed the ſhort limits of their capacity, there [291] being among them neither diviſion of lands or poſſeſ⯑ſions, and conſequently no ſucceſſion to immoveables; nor, on the other hand, any complaints of illegal intru⯑ſions. Every nation, or language, conſiſts of ſeveral rancherias, more or leſs in number, according to the fertility of the ſoil; and each rancheria, of one or more families, united by conſanguinity. But when the miſ⯑ſionaries came among them, neither the rancherias, nor the nations, had a chief or ſuperior, to whom they paid obedience, or whoſe authority they acknowledged by any kind of tribute, or external ceremony. Every family governed itſelf, according to their own fancy; and the natural obedience from ſons to fathers was very little, after the former were able to provide for themſelves. The ſorcerers and jugglers, of whom we ſhall ſpeak, were poſſeſſed of ſome kind of ſuperiority; but this laſted no longer than the time of their feſtivals, or during the time of ſickneſs, or other incidents, which excited their fear or ſuperſtition. However, in the rancherias, and even in the nations, the miſſionaries found one, two, or more, who gave orders for gathering the produces of the earth; directed the fiſheries, and the military expeditions, in caſe of a quarrel with any other rancheria, or nation. This dignity was not obtained by blood, and deſcent; nor by age, ſuffrages, or a formal election; the neceſſity of applying for inſtruction to one or more, on ſome com⯑mon exigency, rendered it natural, that, with a tacit conſent, he who was brave, expert, artful, or eloquent, ſhould be promoted to the command; but his authority [292] was limited to terms, impoſed by the fancy of thoſe who, without well knowing how, quietly ſubmitted to him. This leader, or caſique, conducted them to the foreſts, and ſea-coaſts, in queſt of food; ſent and re⯑ceived meſſages to and from the adjacent ſtates; informed them of dangers, ſpirited them up to the revenge of in⯑juries whether real or feigned, done by other rancherias, or nations; and headed them in their wars, ravages, and depredations. In all other particulars every one was entire maſter of his liberty.

CHAP. III. Of the ancient Religion of the Californians.

THE moſt intereſting ſubject for curioſity, and which requires the greateſt accuracy and attention in treating it, is the ancient religion of the Californians. And the uſe to be made of ſuch reſearches, in favour of our holy religion, is, in enumerating the different ſects, ancient and modern, of all nations in the world, to increaſe from their darkneſs, the luſtre of the Chriſtian diſpenſation. On the other hand, a faithful repreſenta⯑tion of the ſhadow of death, in which theſe Indians lay immerſed, will heighten the greatneſs of the Divine Good⯑neſs, [293] in bringing them into the boſom of the church; many a father miſſionary has loſt his life in the ſacred cauſe; but Chriſtianity has now gained a pretty firm footing among them.

All relations agree, that hitherto no idolatry has been found among the Californians. They neither wor⯑ſhipped any creatures, nor had any repreſentations or images of falſe deities, to whom they paid any kind of adoration. In ſhort, ſcarce any trace of religion was to be found among them; nor did their external perfor⯑mances ſhew the leaſt knowledge of God; yet there was among them a ſeries. of ſpeculative tenets, which muſt ſurprize the reader: for they not only have an idea of the unity and nature of God, as a pure ſpirit, and likewiſe of the other ſpiritual beings; but alſo ſome faint glimmer⯑ings of the Trinity; the eternity of the Saviour, and other articles of the Chriſtian religion, though mixed with a thouſand abſurdities. And this light was ſo clear in them, that ſome miſſionaries have been induced to think, that they were deſcended from a people who had formerly been Chriſtians.

There is, ſay they, in heaven, a Lord of great power, called Niparaya, who made the earth and the ſea, gives food to all creatures, created the trees and every thing we ſee, and can do whatever he pleaſes. We do not ſee him, becauſe he has not a body like us. This Niparaya has a wife called Anayicoyondi; and though he [294] makes no uſe of her, not having a body, he has had three ſons; of theſe, one is Quaayayp, i. e. man; and Anayicoyondi was delivered of him in the mountains of Acaragui. Quaayayp has been with the ſouthern In⯑dians, and taught them. He was very powerful, and had a great number of men; for he went into the earth, and brought people from thence. At length the Indians through hatred killed him; and, at the ſame time, put a wreath of thorns upon his head. He is dead, but to this day remains very beautiful, and without any cor⯑ruption. Blood is continually running from him; he does not ſpeak, as being dead, but he has a tecolote, or owl, that ſpeaks for him. They further ſay, that in heaven there are many more inhabitants than on earth, and that formerly there were great wars in that place: a perſon of eminent power, whom ſome learned men call Wac, and others Tuparan, roſe up againſt the ſupreme Lord Niparaya, and, being joined by numerous adhe⯑rents, dared to ſtand a battle with him; but was totally defeated by Niparaya, who immediately deprived Wac Tuparan of all his power, his fine pitahayas, and his other proviſions; turned him out of heaven, confined him and his followers in a vaſt cave under the earth; and created the whales in the ſea, to be as guards, that they ſhould not leave their place of confinement: they add, that the ſupreme Lord Niparaya does not like that people ſhould fight, and that thoſe who die by an arrow or ſpear do not go to heaven. But, on the contrary, Wac Tuparan wiſhes that all people were continually [295] fighting, becauſe all who are killed in battle go to his cave. There are two parties among theſe Indians; one ſiding with Niparaya, and are a ſerious diſcreet people, open to conviction, and readily liſten to the Chriſtian truths, which are inforced upon them from their own tenets. The other party is that devoted to Wac Tupa⯑ran, and are of very perverſe diſpoſitions, ſorcerers, and unfortunately very numerous. Theſe partiſans of Wac Tuparan have ſeveral opinions peculiar to themſelves, and monſtrouſly abſurd; as, that the ſtars are ſhining pieces of metal; that the moon was created by Cucu⯑numic, the ſtars by Purutabui, and the like.

The tenets of the Loretto nation are as follows: They have no word in their language ſignifying heaven, but expreſs it by the general word notu, which ſignifies above, or high. They ſay, that in the north part of heaven lives the ſpirit of ſpirits, which they call Gumongo; that he ſends peſtilences and ſickneſſes; and, in former ages, ſent down another ſpirit to viſit the earth, to whom they give the name of Guyiaguai: that he was no ſooner come than he began to ſow the land with pitahayas, and like⯑wiſe made the creeks along the coaſt of the gulph, till he came to a vaſt ſtone in a very ſpacious creek near Loretto, called by the Spaniards Puerto Eſcondido, where he reſided for ſome time. Here, ſay they, the other infe⯑rior ſpirits, his attendants, uſed to bring him pitahayas to eat, and fiſh which they caught in the creek. Guyia⯑guai's occupation was to make veſtments for his prieſts, [296] who, in their language, are called dicuinochos, of the hides which were offered to him. After ſome time, Guyia⯑guai continued his viſitation, ſowing pitahayas, and making creeks along all the coaſt of the Loretto nation; and, as a memorial, left a painted table, which the dicuinochos, or prieſts, make uſe of at their entertain⯑ments. They add, that the ſun, moon, and the morn⯑ing and evening ſtars, are men and women; that every night they fail into the weſtern ſea, whence they are under a neceſſity of ſwimming out by the way of the eaſt; that the other ſtars are lights made in heaven by that viſiting ſpirit and his attendants; and that, though they become quenched by the ſea-water, he goes toward the ſun to light them again. It would be very tedious to enter into the many abſurdities of the ſame kind, which were impoſed on this unhappy people by their ſtupid or deſigning prieſts.

The nation of the Cochinies, is not only the moſt nu⯑merous and extended, but they have likewiſe the beſt genius, and leſs extravagant opinions and brutality in their cuſtoms; their behaviour is remarkably courteous, and they never break their word. They believe that there is in heaven a Lord, whoſe name, in their lan⯑guage, ſignifies, He who lives; that he had a ſon, with⯑out a mother, to whom they give two names, one of which imports perfection, or end of clay; the other ſignifies ſwift. Beſides him, they ſay, there is another, whoſe name is, He who makes lords; though they give [297] the name of lord to all the three; yet, when aſked, How many lords there are? They anſwer One, who made the heavens, the earth, the animals, the trees, and fruits; alſo man and woman. They, likewiſe, have ſome notion of devils, ſaying, that the great Lord called, "He who lives," created certain beings who are not ſeen, who revolted againſt him, and are enemies both to him and mankind: to theſe they give the name of lyars, enſna⯑rers, or ſeducers. They add, that when men die, theſe deceivers come and bury them that they may not ſee the Lord who lives. The converted Indians could have no deſign of impoſing on the miſſionaries, in telling them, that, before their converſion, they held opinions, in ſome reſpects, like their own; it is reaſonable, therefore, to conclude that ſome ſtorm, or other accident, carried to the coaſts of California, ſome Europeans, or inhabi⯑bitants of the Philippines, of whom no memory now exiſts among the Indians; and theſe, finding themſelves among barbarians, endeavoured to inſtil into them the myſteries of chriſtianity; and that thoſe inſtructions, in proceſs of time, became more and more disfigured, till the arrival of the miſſionaries, when the place was con⯑quered by Spain.

It is now above two centuries ſince the coaſt of Cali⯑fornia has been viſited by Europeans. The inhabitants of Mexico, from the weſtern coaſt of New Spain, have frequented the Gulph of California to fiſh for pearls; and others have arrived at the weſtern coaſt, by the way [298] of the South Sea. And, therefore, among a variety of accidents, either as puniſhment or from misfortune, one or more may have been obliged to remain among theſe Indians. There are a few negroes among them, the race of thoſe who had been left by a ſhip from the Phi⯑lippine Iſlands. Sir Francis Drake left a pilot on ſhore, who, after ſome years, fortunately got away again; and ſo lately as 1741, the Ruſſians were obliged to leave on the ſame coaſt of America, and at a higher latitude, part of a ſhip's company, who had ſailed on a diſcovery; all which gives room to believe, that ſome Europeans, under a ſimilar diſaſter, had not the ſame good fortune to arrive at a country peopled with Europeans, after wandering over vaſt tracts inhabited by Barbarians, but, on the contrary, were obliged to paſs the remainder of their days among them.

Their Edues, or prieſts, were what might be expected from this ſhadow, or imitation of religion; they are fre⯑quently called Hechiceros, or ſorcerers; but it is not to be thought, that theſe poor creatures had any commerce with apoſtate ſpirits. It is known, that the ſame extravagant credulity obtained here, which not long ſince deluged the old world, with regard to the ancient, pagan oracles. But the moſt ſagacious miſſionaries found them out to be [...]rrant impoſtors, pretending to hold intelligence with [...]rits, the exiſtence of which was believed by the [...]rnians. This ſuppoſed commerce with the devil, [...] them great authority among that ſimple people, [299] and this reverence they ſtrengthened by certain ceremo⯑nies and geſtures, and the introduction of many myſtic rites. What alſo ſtrengthened this authority, was their being the only phyſicians, from whom they could hope for relief, when ſick; and whatever was the medicine, it was always adminiſtered with great oſtentation and ſo⯑lemnity.

The Loretto Indians had ſchools, in which theſe pro⯑feſſors inſtructed their youth in the above opinions, and recommended them as truths of great importance. But the authority of the Californian prieſts, on no occaſion, appears with ſuch ſplendor as in the public feaſts. There are no ſacrifices, or any other religious ceremonies at theſe times; but the whole conſiſts of eating, drinking, dancing, talking, and laughing: yet the preſence of their prieſts makes them conſidered as religious ſolemnities; for they act the chief part, and dreſs themſelves in a habit of ceremony, which is only uſed on extraordinary occaſions. This conſiſts of a large cloak, covering them from head to foot, and entirely compoſed of human hair. The head is adorned with a very high plumage of hawk's feathers, and in their hands they carry a very large fan, formed of the largeſt feathers of the ſame bird. The Southern Edues, when they cannot get feathers, adorn, or rather disfigure, their heads with the tails of deer, and the Cochinies of the north, add two ſtrings of the hoofs of the ſame beaſt; one as a chain round the neck, and the other as a girdle. The ridiculouſsneſs of this garb, [300] is ſtill heightened by daubing their bodies over with red, black, and different colours; ſo that the reader's fancy will eaſily repreſent what figures they make.

Theſe prieſts open the entertainment, with ſucking the Chacuaco, till they become frantic, and almoſt drunk with the ſmoke; thus intoxicated, they begin an oration on their tenets, which they deliver with wild geſtures, and frightful vociferations; pretending to be inſpired by thoſe ſpirits which the nation acknowledges; and in their name, denouncing whatever their frenzy or intereſt ſug⯑geſts; at other times, pretending to be the ſpirits them⯑ſelves. Whilſt theſe frantic preachers are haranguing, the others are feaſting and dancing; and, being inflamed by gluttony, intemperance, and dancing, the whole concludes in the moſt abominable gratification of their appetites, all mingling indiſcriminately, as if determined to violate every principle of ſhame, reaſon, and mo⯑deſty.

Though theſe feaſts are often made without any ne⯑ceſſary cauſes, yet thoſe made at the gathering of the pitahayas, for a victory, for the diſtribution of the fiſh caught, and the deer-ſkins, greatly ſurpaſs the others in ſolemnity; but that on boring the ears and noſtrils of children exceeds all: to theſe all the women and men reſort; the ornament of wearing pearls from their noſtrils to their ears being common to both ſexes. The ſhrieks of the children on theſe occaſions, incite the fathers to [301] greater and louder ſhouts, in order to ſuppreſs any ſym⯑pathy with the cries and tears of their children. At theſe feaſts, the prieſts do not omit exerciſing that authority which they owe to the fears of the people, celebrating, according to their private paſſions, ſome, as brave and generous; upbraiding others, as cowards, factious and wicked; and even enjoining them certain penances, the moſt cuſtom⯑ary of which is faſting, or abſtinence. This is not the only method of chaſtiſing them; they ſometimes order them to clear the ways along the higheſt mountains, for the more eaſy deſcent of the viſiting ſpirit, when it comes to ſee them, and at certain diſtances to lay a heap of ſtones, where it may ſtop and reſt itſelf. But what cannot be read without horror, is, that theſe inhuman im⯑poſtors ſometimes even order them to throw themſelves down from a precipice; and though, in ſo doing, they muſt neceſſarily be daſhed to pieces, yet ſuch is the blindneſs and dread of theſe poor creatures, that it is very ſeldom their orders fail of being executed, either willingly or by force. Beſides this, theſe prieſts raiſe contributions on all ſuch as demand any proviſions, and certain portions of human hair to make their cloaks, all which is paid as a tribute, with a punctual willingneſs. This tribute children pay in return for their inſtruction, and the ſick adults, on recovery, in gratitude for their cure; and if not, for their care after death; for the Californians are not forſaken by their prieſts when dead: on the contrary, they redouble their cares, and extend them to the whole rancheria. But when the diſtemper arrives at ſuch a [302] height, as to be paſt cure, they aſſemble all the patient's relations, that he may die with the greater uneaſineſs. If the patient has a daughter or ſiſter, they in the firſt place cut off the little finger of her right hand, pretend⯑ing thereby, that the blood either cures the patient, or at leaſt, removes from the family all ſorrow for his death; but is in reality an additional cauſe of pain and grief. Then follow the viſits from the whole rancheria; who after talking to him, and being made acquainted with his deſ⯑perate condition, ſet up a confuſed howling, ſometimes covering their faces, with their hands, and their hair, and repeating this ceremony from time to time, divided into ſeparate companies, and all in the preſence of the dying perſon. The women increaſe the horror of theſe howlings with paſſionate cries and exclamations, ſetting forth the merits of the patient, in order to move greater compaſſion. The howling being over, the patient re⯑queſts the company to ſuck and blow him, in the ſame manner as the phyſician had done. This is by filling a tube made out of a hard, black ſtone, with tobacco, applying the end of it to the part affected, and then with their mouth at the other end, ſometimes ſucking up the ſmoke, at others blowing it through the tube, on the diſeaſed part with all their force. This friendly office is performed by every one, as this and the ſtrength of their cries, is the beſt proof of their degree of affection for the ſick perſon: in the mean time, the doctors thruſt their hands into the patient's mouth, pretending to pluck death forcibly out of his body. The women ſtill con⯑tinuing [203] their outcries, give the patient many ſevere ſtrokes, in order to awake him, till between one un⯑eaſineſs and another, they deprive the poor wretch of life, and as ſoon as dead, they proceed to bury or burn him, as is moſt convenient. The funerals are immedi⯑ately performed, without any preparation, amidſt a continuance of the ſame howlings, and without any ſingu⯑larity, only burying or burning, with the deceaſed, all his utenſils; and ſo little do they enquire into the reality of his death, previous to the burning or interment, that one day Salva Tierra tells us, haſtening to the ſpot, where they were going to burn a man, they ſuppoſed dead, and per⯑ceiving ſome remains of life in him, he ſnatched him from the fire, and in time recovered him, reproving their raſhneſs and barbarity.

Father Torquemada, ſpeaking of the iſland of St. Catherine, in the neighbourhood of California, ſays, "In this iſland are rancherias, or communities, and in them a temple, with a large, level court, where they perform their ſacrifices; and in one, was a large circular ſpace, the place of the altar, with an encloſure of feathers of ſeveral birds of different colours; which I underſtood," ſays he, "were thoſe of the birds they ſacrificed in great numbers: and within the circle, was an image, ſtrangely bedaubed with a variety of colours, repreſenting ſome devil, according to the manner of the Indians of New Spain, holding in its hand, a figure of the ſun and moon. It happened, that when the ſoldiers came to ſee this tem⯑ple, [304] they found within the ſaid circle, two crows, con⯑ſiderably larger than ordinary; which at the approach of the Spaniards flew away, but allighted among the rocks in the neighbourhood. The ſoldiers ſeeing them of ſuch uncommon ſize, fired their guns and killed them. At this, an Indian, who had attended the Spaniards as a guide, fell into an agony. I was informed that they be⯑lieved the devil ſpoke to them in theſe crows, and thence held them in great veneration. Sometime after, one of the religious going that way, ſaw ſome Indian women waſhing fiſh on the ſhore, but ſome crows came up to them, and with their beaks, took the fiſh from their hands, whilſt they obſerved a profound ſilence, not daring ſo much as to look at them, much leſs frighten them away. Nothing therefore could ſeem more horrible to the Cali⯑fornians, than that the Spaniards ſhould ſhoot at theſe reſpectable birds."

In the year 1745, there were 16 miſſionaries ſettled in different parts of the country, and they had eſtabliſhed 39 chriſtian villages.

CHAP. I. Of the Country, Climate, and Productions.

THE Perſian Empire, founded by Cyrus the Great, 578 years before the Chriſtian aera; was the ſecond of the four ancient monarchies eſtabliſhed in the world, and at that period extended from the Gulph of Ormus, and the Red Sea, and from Ethiopia in the ſouth, to the Euxine and Caſpian ſeas on the north; and from the river Indus, now called the Scind, in the eaſt, to the deſarts of Lybia, or that part of Africa bordering upon Egypt; the Mediterranean, and Archipelago Seas, on the weſt. But the boundaries of this kingdom are now ſaid to be, India, or the Mogul's dominions on the [306] eaſt; the ocean, and Perſian Gulph, towards the ſouth; the Turkiſh empire on the weſt; and Circaſia, the Caſpian ſea, and the river Oxus, that divides it from Uſbec-Tartary, towards the north. The moſt ſouthern part of Perſia lies in 25 degrees north latitude, and the moſt northern part in 45 degrees; of courſe we may reckon it 1,200 miles long, from north to ſouth; and, the moſt weſtern part of it lying in 45 degrees of longitude from London; and the moſt eaſtern in 67 degrees, its breadth and length are nearly equal; and was it not for the Caſpian Sea, which divides the north-eaſt parts of Perſia from the north-weſt, the form of the country would be almoſt ſquare.

It conſiſts of twelve provinces, of which Fars is the ancient Perſis, in which ſtood the city Perſepolis, whoſe magnificent ruins are the wonder of every traveller. Curdeſtan, the ancient Aſſyria, Erack, the ancient Parthia, now reckoned the principal province, and al⯑moſt the centre of the empire; Gylan, the ancient Hyr⯑cania, and Aditbeitzan, the ſouthern part of the an⯑cient Media. Of the province of Shirven, Armenia is a part.

Perſia, extending from the 25th degree of latitude, and to the 45th, the longeſt day in the ſouth is 13 hours and a half, and in the north above 15 hours. In ſo great an extent of country, it is natural to ſuppoſe that the air and ſeaſons are very different, as in fact they [307] are. In the middle of the kingdom, their winter be⯑gins in November, and continues till March, with ſevere froſts, and ſnow, which falls in great quantities, on their mountains, but not ſo much in the level countries. From March to May, the wind is uſually high, and from thence to September, they have a calm, ſerene heaven, with not ſo much as a cloud. And though it is pretty hot in the day-time, the refreſhing breezes, which blow conſtantly morning and evening, as well in the night, make the ſummer tolerable, eſpecially as the nights are near ten hours long. The climate of Shirauz in the province of Fars, where Mr. Franklin ſpent eight months, is, ſays that gentleman, one of the moſt agreeable in the world; the extremes of heat and cold being ſeldom felt. During the ſpring of the year, the uncommonly beautiful flowers, of which they have a great variety of the brighteſt hues and fragancy, perfume the natural mildneſs of the air. The beauties of nature are here depicted in their fulleſt extent, the natural hiſtorian and botaniſt would here meet with ample ſcope for their favourite inveſtigations; ſo that the inhabitants of Shirauz confidently aſſert the pre-emi⯑nence of their own city, to any other in the world; and the natural beauties of the place call forth the poetical exertions of a Hàfez, a Sàdi, or a Jàmi. In ſummer, the thermometer ſeldom riſes above 73 degrees in the day-time, and at night, generally ſinks to 62 degrees. Their autumn is the worſt ſeaſon of the year; the rains then beginning to fall, and the air reckoned as unhealthy, [308] producing colds, fluxes, and fevers. Though a great deal of heavy ſnow falls in winter, ice is rarely to be found, except on the mountain-tops, and in the more northern parts of Perſia. The air is ſo pure, at night, and the ſtars ſhine with that luſtre, that one man may know another well, by their light; and people travel much more in the night than in the day. In this part of Perſia, there are very ſeldom any hurricanes or tem⯑peſts, and very little thunder and lightning; nor is it ſubject to earthquakes. In the fine weather, particu⯑larly ſummer, there is not the leaſt dew, or moiſture; and even at other times, the dew is of that nature, that it will not ruſt the fineſt ſteel, if left to dry on it. This dryneſs in the air cauſes their buildings to laſt a long time, and is undoubtedly one of the principal reaſons, that the celebrated ruins of Perſepolis have endured for ſo many ages, that place being ſituated in much ſuch another valley as Shirauz, and but two days journey from it. It very ſeldom rains, even in the winter, and no country, as appears from the hale complexion, of the natives, is more healthy than the heart of Perſia.

In the month of March, ſays Hanway, the ſun ſhines ſo ſtrongly on the ſnow, about Caſbin, that the reflec⯑tion is injurious to the eyes, and half-blinds the people; and the ſouthern parts, particularly about Gombron, we are told by other writers, is ſo unhealthy about the ſpring and fall, that the European factors never paſs a year, without a dangerous illneſs carrying off ſome of [309] them. It is a common thing for two to agree, that if one dies, the ſurvivor ſhall poſſeſs the other's fortune. The months of June, July, and Auguſt, are here ſo very hot, that both natives and foreigners, get up into the mountains at that time. The hot winds which blow from the eaſtward, over a long tract of ſandy deſarts, are ready to ſuffocate them, and ſometimes there hap⯑pens a peſtilential blaſt, that ſtrikes the traveller dead in an inſtant. It rains but very ſeldom in the courſe of the year; and the water they ſave, is very unwholeſome.

The provinces of Georgia, Shirvan, and Aditbeitzan, which lie in the moſt northern part of Perſia, are very dry and warm in the ſummer, but ſubject to ſtorms and tempeſts in the winter, and have as ſevere froſts for ſix months, as any countries on the continent, in the ſame latitude; and as this part of Perſia is very mountainous, there is frequently a great difference between the air on the north and ſouth ſides of the mountains; and, in a few miles travelling, people think themſelves in a different climate; but cold as the mountains are in the north, they are extremely healthy. On the contrary, the ſlat countries of Ghilan and Mezenderan, which lie upon the Caſ⯑pian Sea, and was the ancient Hyrcania, are very damp, full of ſtinking moraſſes, and ſo unhealthful, that the in⯑habitants retire into the mountains in the ſummer-time; all the water they have in the hot ſeaſon being foul and corrupted.

[310]As Sir John Chardin obſerves, there is not a country in the world which has more mountains and fewer rivers than Perſia; and ſome of the mountains are conſidered as the higheſt on the face of the earth. Mount Taurus branches itſelf out into different provinces, and runs quite through the country, from weſt to eaſt. The loftieſt mountains are thoſe called Ararat in Armenia, and thoſe which ſeparate Media from Hyrcania, and Hyrcania from Erack. Thoſe that divide Fars from Carmenia are dry, barren rocks, and very lofty, but thoſe of Hyr⯑cania and Curdeſtan covered with woods. Near Baku is a mountain that ſparkles like diamonds, from the quantity of talc and chryſtal with which it abounds. There are through this kingdom vaſt, ſandy deſarts, ſe⯑veral days journey over, where ſcarce a drop of water is to be met with; and the land in general on the frontiers lies uncultivated to diſcourage their enemies from in⯑vading them. There are, however, ſome fruitful plains and vallies, where their principal cities ſtand, which yield plenty of grain and herbage; and no country is more fruitful than the provinces which lie upon the Caſpian Sea.

Not one-tenth part of the kingdom is cultivated. Many of the vallies are barren, which formerly were fruitful, when the waters were turned into them. In ſome provinces there are hundreds of fine aqueducts choaked up and buried in ruins.

[311]With reſpect to rivers, there is not one in the heart of the country, that will carry a boat of any burthen. The river Oxus that divides Perſia from Uſbeck-Tartary is a large ſtream; but as there are no branches of it that riſe in the Perſian dominions, it is of little uſe to them. But there are ſeveral ſmall rivulets which fall from the mountains, and are conveyed by ſubterraneous channels, or otherwiſe, to their principal cities.

Water being ſo ſcarce in Perſia, there is no place where they huſband it better, or have more ingenious contrivances, to convey it to their cities, and into their corn-fields and gardens. This is the care of govern⯑ment; and there is a great officer in every province who has the charge of the conveyance and diſtribution of the waters.

They turn all their little rivulets and ſprings to ſuch parts of the country where they are moſt wanted. They dig wells alſo of a prodigious depth and breadth, out of which they draw water with oxen in great leather-buckets; which being emptied into ciſterns, is let out occaſionally for ſundry uſes. They have alſo vaſt ſubterranean aque⯑ducts, through which water is conveyed twenty or thirty leagues. Theſe are two fathoms high, and arched with brick; and at every 20 paces diſtance, are large holes, like wells, made for the convenience of carrying on the arch without working under-ground too far, and the more eaſy repairing of them. The diſtribution of river and [312] ſpring-water is made one day to one quarter of the town, and another day to another, when every one opens the canal or reſervoir in his garden to receive it, and for which an annual ſum is paid; and as it is eaſy for any to divert his neighbour's water into his own channel, ſuch fraud is ſeverely puniſhed.

Beſides the ocean, there are two ſeas belonging to Perſia, the Caſpian Sea, and the Gulph of Perſia. The former we have ſpoken of when treating of Tartary. The Perſians have but few veſſels on this ſea; but they are not ſo negligent of the Gulph of Perſia, or Boſſora, on account of the pearl-fiſhery, which is reckoned the beſt in the world. They are maſters of both ſides of this gulph, as well as the iſlands in it. The pearl-fiſhery lies near the iſland of Baharem. Of the reſt of the iſlands, Ormus, ſituated at the entrance of this ſea, is the moſt famous, and is about thirty miles round. This was once in the poſſeſſion of the Portugueſe, who then commanded the pearl-fiſhery, and all the trade of Perſia, and who built on it one of the moſt elegant cities in Aſia. But this city is gone, and there is nothing on the iſland, but an indifferent caſtle, in poſſeſſion of the Perſians, the trade being removed to Gombron, about two leagues diſtant. The iſland itſelf never produced any thing but ſalt, which grows in a ſolid cruſt, two inches deep, on the ſurface of the ground; and the hills appear, at a diſtance, with it, as if covered with ſnow. Nor is there [313] a drop of freſh water on the iſland. The Portugueſe fetched their water from the continent.

About 160 years ago, the King of Perſia, by the aſſiſtance of the Engliſh Eaſt-India Company's ſhips, expelled the Portugueſe; for which they were allowed half the cuſtoms of Gombron, which amounted to about 40,000l. a year. But the Perſians afterwards took the whole cuſtoms themſelves, making the Engliſh Company ſome trifling acknowledgment.

Near 23 miles to the ſouth-weſt of Kiſlar, on the fron⯑tiers of Tartary, on the firſt Circaſſian mountain, lying on the ſouth of the river Tereck, there is a well about 40 fa⯑thoms deep, from which iſſues boiling water into a ſtone baſon. Hence it falls down a precipice near 30 fathoms into the Tereck, in ſufficient quantities to turn the wheel of a mill. The Tartars convey it into pits, and find great relief in many complaints from bathing in it. Among ſeveral experiments which a ſurgeon made on this water, he found, that after it was bottled up cloſe, for a ſhort time, the naptha-ſmell it had, went off. Near this hill are ſeven ſprings of the ſame kind of water, and one, which appears impregnated with alium, being ſo acid and aſtringent, as not to be borne long in the mouth. The heat of the water is ſo great, that a fowl has been boiled in it in nine minutes. This quick coction may be ow⯑ing to the quantity of naptha in the water. Not far diſtant, are ſeveral ſmall pits dug in the earth, in which [314] there is ſalt of the utmoſt purity of colour and bright⯑neſs, which diſſolves in the mouth inſtantaneouſly, giving a very pungent ſenſation. Even in cold weather, the warmth of theſe wells produces near them the verdure and flowers of ſpring. About half a mile weſtward of this hill, are ſeven wells of naptha, in which the wild ſwine delight to lie. The Tartars uſe it for their lamps, and to greaſe the axletrees of their carts.

The chief place for the black, or dark-grey naptha is a ſmall iſland in the Caſpian Sea, now uninhabited, except at times, when they fetch the naptha. The Per⯑ſians load it in bulk, in their wretched veſſels, ſo that ſometimes the ſea is covered with it for leagues together. When the weather is thick and hazy, the ſprings boil up the higher; and the naptha often takes fire on the ſurface of the earth, and runs in a flame into the ſea, in great quantities, to an almoſt incredible diſtance. It is a kind of oil that will encruſt, grow hard, and look like pitch. The people uſe it, mixt with a ſmall quantity of aſhes, to burn in lamps, and boil their food, but it leaves a diſagreeable ſmell. They keep it at a ſmall diſtance from their houſes, in earthen veſſels, under ground, to pre⯑vent accidents from its firing, which it is very liable to do. Every family in its neighbourhood is well ſupplied with it.

They have alſo, on the peninſula of Apcheron, a white naptha of a much thinner conſiſtency; but this is found [315] only in ſmall quantities. The Ruſſians drink it, both as a cordial, and a medicine; but it does not intoxicate. It is taken internally for the ſtone, for diſorders in the breaſt, and in venereal caſes, and ſore heads, to both the laſt of which the Perſians are very ſubject. Exter⯑nally applied, it is of great uſe in ſcorbutic pains, cramps, gout, &c. It penetrates into the blood in⯑ſtantaneouſly, and, for a ſhort time, creates great pain. Like ſpirits of wine, it takes out greaſy ſpots from ſilk and woollen, but leaves a bad ſmell. It has been car⯑ried as a great rarity into India, and being prepared as a Japan, is the moſt beautiful and laſting of any that has yet been tried.

In the neighbourhood of Baku, on the Caſpian Sea, is a phenomenon of a very extraordinary nature; in ſome manner peculiar to this country, and therefore deſerves a particular deſcription. It is called the Everlaſting Fire; and to it a ſect of Indians and Perſians, called Gebers or Gaurs, pay religious worſhip.

It lies about 10 Engliſh miles, north-eaſt by eaſt, from the city of Baku, in the province of Shirvan, on dry, rocky land. Here are ſeveral ancient temples, built with ſtone, ſuppoſed to have been all dedicated to fire: moſt of them are arched vaults, from 10 to 15 feet high. Among others there is a little temple, in which the Indians now worſhip. Near the altar, about three feet high, is a large, hollow cane, from the end of which [316] iſſues a blue flame, in colour and gentleneſs nor unlike a lamp, burning with ſpirits, but ſeemingly more pure. Theſe Indians affirm, that this flame has continued ever ſince the flood; and they believe it will laſt to the end of time; that if it was reſiſted or ſuppreſſed in that place, it would break out and riſe in ſome other. There are generally 40 or 50 of theſe poor devotees, who come on a pilgrimage from their own country, and ſubſiſt on wild ſelery, and a kind of Jeruſalem artichokes, which are very good food, with other roots and herbs, found a little to the northward.

A little way from this temple is a low cliff of a rock, in which there is a horizontal gap, two feet from the ground, near ſix feet long, and about three feet broad, out of which iſſues a conſtant flame of the colour and nature I have deſcribed. When the wind blows, it riſes ſometimes eight feet high, but much lower in ſtill wea⯑ther. It is not obſerved, that the flame makes any im⯑preſſion on the rock. This alſo the Indians worſhip.

The earth round this place, for more than two miles, has this ſurpriſing property, that by taking up two or three inches of the ſurface, and applying a live coal to it, the part which is ſo uncovered immediately takes fire, almoſt before the coal touches the earth. The flame makes the ſoil hot, but does not conſume it, nor affect what is near it, with any degree of heat. Any quantity of this earth, carried to another place, does not [317] produce this effect. Eight horſes were once conſumed by this fire, being under a roof where the ſurface of the ground was turned up, and by ſome accident took flame.

If a cane or tube, even of paper, be ſet about two inches in the ground, confined, and cloſed with earth below, and the top of it touched with a live coal and blown upon, a flame will immediately iſſue, without burning either the cane or paper, provided the edges be covered with clay; and this method they uſe, for light in their houſes, which have only the earth for their floor. Three or four of theſe lighted canes, will boil water in a pot, and thus they dreſs their victuals. The flame may be extinguiſhed in the ſame manner as that of ſpirits of wine. The ground is dry and ſtony, and the more ſtony any particular part is, the ſtronger and clearer is the flame. It ſmells ſulphureous, like naptha, but not very offenſive.

Here are alſo ſprings of hot water, which ſtrengthen the ſtomach by bathing in them, and formerly cauſed the place to be frequented by a number of Perſians, and other people of the firſt quality from the remoteſt parts. For there are many ſtately remains of buildings, an extenſive burying-place, and a large moſque, with a fine ſtone cupola.

[318]Near great towns they improve their lands with ſtreet-dirt; but, at a greater diſtance, they lay their fields into little level ſquares, banking them round, and then turning the water into them, and flow them. Where the ground is light, they plough it with two or three oxen or buffaloes; but in Ghilan, and other ſtiff coun⯑tries, it is as much as eight or ten oxen can do, to draw their ploughs, which are very large.

Rice, wheat, and barley, are almoſt the only kinds of grain growing in Perſia. Oats they have none, and little or no rye. Their ſeaſons are not the ſame in the north as in the ſouth; for, when they are ſowing in one part of the country, they are reaping in another, and in ſome places it is not more than three months between ſeed-time and harveſt. Their land never lies fallow. It is ſo meliorated and enriched by flowing, and the heat of the ſun afterwards working on the mud, that it is never out of heart; and though we have not ſo warm a ſun, were we to flow ſome of our ground as they do, I am perſuaded it would be a vaſt improvement, eſpecially where dung and other manure is wanting.

Their kitchen-gardens are well ſtocked with moſt of the roots and herbs we have in Europe. They have no leſs than 20 ſeveral ſorts of melons, the common people make them their conſtant food in ſummer. Thoſe that ripen in the latter part of the ſeaſon are the beſt and largeſt; ſome of them weigh eight or ten [319] pounds, and are as ſweet as ſugar. At the tables of perſons of quality they have them all the year round, having a method of preſerving them under ground, and, it is ſaid, ſome will eat eight or ten pounds of melon at a meal, and not be ſick. The beſt melons grow in Cho⯑raſſan, near Tartary, and are carried as far as Iſpahan for the King's uſe, and as preſents to friends. Cucumbers are another fruit much eaten by the common people. One ſort has ſcarce any ſeeds in it, and is eaten with⯑out paring or dreſſing, and not reckoned unwholeſome.

Of grapes they have ſeveral kinds, and very ſweet, and ſome ſo large, that a ſingle grape is a mouthful. The celebrated wine of Shirauz is made of a ſmall black grape without ſtones. It is very delicious, and though, at firſt taſte, rather unpleaſant to a European, yet thoſe who have drank it for ſome time, prefer it to every other. They wrap up the bunches in linen bags, and let them hang on the trees all the winter, and gather them as wanted. The dryneſs of the air preſerves all kinds of fruit a long time. Cherries here are but indif⯑ferent, but apples, pears, peaches, quinces, apricots, nectarines, and gage plumbs, are all very good, and in great plenty. The pomegranate is good to a proverb. The Perſians call it the fruit of paradiſe.

Dates are reckoned one of the moſt delicious fruits of this country. They are no where ſo good as in Perſia. The pulp, which encloſes the ſtone, is a clammy ſub⯑ſtance, [320] as ſweet as honey. The tree which bears them is ſlender, but tall, and like other palms, has no branches, but on the top, and the fruit grows in cluſters of 30 or 40lb. weight. The tree does not bear till it is 15 years old, and, it is ſaid, will continue bearing 100 years. When the fruit is ripe, it is laid in heaps, and, melting, will candy, and preſerve itſelf without ſugar.

If they knew any thing of gardening, they would have moſt of the European fruits in greater perfection, than in any part of Europe; but they underſtand neither grafting nor inoculating. All their trees run up very high and are loaded with wood. They have apricots of ſeveral kinds, that come into ſeaſon one after another; and their nectarines and peaches weigh 16 or 18 ounces each. They have an apricot, red within, called by them the egg of the ſun. Theſe are dryed, and exported in vaſt quantities. They are boiled in water, which is thickened by the juice of the fruit, and makes a perfect ſyrup, without ſugar.

The piſtachio-nuts are almoſt peculiar to Perſia, and tranſported all the world over. We have them com⯑monly in London. They have likewiſe nuts, filberds, almonds, and olives; but know not how to extract oil from, or preſerve, the laſt. They have alſo plantations of ſugar and tobacco.

[321]Among the garden-trees, they have the cypreſs, the palm, and the mulberry. Of the laſt, there are large plantations for ſilk-worms, which they never ſuffer to grow up to be great trees, becauſe the leaves are beſt, when the ſhoots are young. But the tree in as great eſteem as any in Perſia, is the ſenna. The body of this tree is very large, and generally 40 or 50 feet high, ſtrait as the maſt of a ſhip, having no branches but on the head. The bark is of a bright grey; and the wood ſerves them to make doors, rafters, and for other uſes in building. The tree which bears the gall-nut is common in many parts of Perſia; and there are trees which yield gum-maſtic, and frankincenſe; that which produces the latter is very much like a pear-tree. There are trees alſo, which pro⯑duce manna of ſeveral ſorts. The leaves of the tameriſk manna-tree drop liquid manna in ſummer-time, which the natives take to be the ſweat of the tree congealed upon the leaf. In the morning the ground under it is perfectly fat and greaſy with it. The cotton-tree is common all over Perſia; and they have another little tree, which yields a kind of ſilken down, uſed for quilt⯑ing and ſtuffing of pillows. There is alſo a plant, called hannah, that bears an orange-coloured ſeed, which they beat to powder, and colour their hands, feet, and faces with, from an opinion, that it keeps the ſkin ſmooth, and preſerves the complexion.

The exceſſive heat, in the ſouthern parts of Perſia, prevents any flowers growing; but nothing can be more [322] beautiful than the fields of Hyrcania. Here are whole groves of orange-trees, jeſſamines, and all the flowers we have in Europe. That part of the country which is called Mazenderan is one continued parterre, from Sep⯑tember to April. The whole country at this time is covered with flowers; and this, though it be their winter-ſeaſon, is alſo the beſt time for fruits. In the other months the heat is ſo exceſſive, and the air ſo unhealth⯑ful, that the natives, as I have obſerved, retire to the mountains. In Media, the fields produce tulips, ane⯑monies, and ranunculas. About Iſpahan and other towns, jonquils grow wild; but they have the greateſt quantity of lillies and roſes. They export abundance of roſe-water. In the ſpring, they have a red flower that reſembles a clove, of a beautiful, ſcarlet colour. Every ſprig, bears thirty of theſe flowers, which form a head as large as a tennis ball. Their roſes are white, yellow, and red, and others, white on one ſide and yellow on the other; but notwithſtanding this variety, their gardens are not to be compared to ours. As flowers are ſo common, they are little regarded; we ſee them intermixed with fruit-trees, without any order; no borders or knots of flowers. All that is met with in their fineſt gardens, is, walks planted with trees, fountains, canals, and plea⯑ſure-houſes, at proper diſtances; nor do the Perſians take any more pleaſure in walking in them, than we do in the fields, but ſit down in ſome alcove, regardleſs of that ex⯑quiſite variety that every foreigner is enamoured with. In⯑deed, were theſe things as common in Europe, and poſſeſſed [323] by every cottager, we probably ſhould regard them as little as we do other things, which we enjoy in common with the loweſt of mankind.

Perſia alſo affords great plenty of drugs, as caſſia, ſenna, antimony, nux vomica, gum armoniac, galbanum, ſal armoniac, and a kind of rhubarb. The Perſian pop⯑pies are in great eſteem from the quantity of juice they yield, and the ſtrength of it. They grow four feet high in ſome places, and have white leaves. The juice is extracted from them in June, when they are ripe. By making little inciſions in the head of the poppy, a thick liquor oozes from them, which is gathered in the morn⯑ing before ſun-riſe. It is ſaid to have ſuch an effect on thoſe who collect it, that they look, as if they had been buried and taken up again, and their limbs tremble, as if they had the palſy. The liquor thus drawn from them, in a little time, grows thick, and is made up into pills, which we call Opium. The Perſian bakers ſtrew poppy-ſeed upon their bread, which inclines thoſe who eat it to ſleep, and eating it is not reckoned unwholeſome after their meals. The common people eat the ſeed almoſt at any time. Saffron grows plentifully in Perſia, and aſſa-foetida, which to us is the moſt offenſive of all ſmells, is to them a moſt refreſhing perfume, and is to be found almoſt every where.

Aſſa-foetida is a liquor which diſtils from the plant called Hiltot. It thickens after it is drawn, and grows [324] as hard as gum. Mummy, which is human fleſh em⯑balmed, that has lain in dry earth ſeveral ages, and be⯑come hard as horn, is frequently found in the ſands of Choraſſan on the ancient Bactria; and ſome of the bodies are ſo little altered, it is ſaid, that the features may be plainly diſtinguiſhed.

The bezoar ſtone of Perſia is held to be much better than the Indian bezoar. This is a ſtone, with ſeveral thin coats over it, found in the entrails of goats and other animals.

Perſia is not without its minerals: it is conjectured that, among their vaſt mountains, there may be ſome mines of gold and ſilver, but none are open, nor have they an account that any were ever wrought, except their lead-mines▪ which yield a ſmall quantity of ſilver, as all lead-mines do, but not enough to pay for extract⯑ing. They have, however, good mines of iron, ſteel, copper, and lead. The iron and ſteel-mines are in Hy [...]cania, Media, and the provinces of E [...]ack and Cho⯑raſian. Their ſteel is ſo full of ſulphur, that, if the fil⯑ings are thrown into the fire, they will give a report like gunpowder. It has a fine, delicate grain, but is as brittle as glaſs, and the Perſian artificers, not under⯑ſtanding how to temper it, cannot convert it to any nice work.

Sulphur and ſalt-petre are dug in the mountain Da⯑maveid, which divides Hyrcania from Erack. Anti⯑mony [325] is found in Carmenia, and emery is had near Niris. Vitriol, and mercury, they have none; and their tin is imported from abroad. They have two kinds of ſalt, one, on the ſurface of the ground, and the other, dug off the rocks. There are plains ten or twelve leagues over, quite covered with ſalt, as others are with ſulphur and alium. The ſalt is ſo hard in ſome parts of Car⯑menia, that the poor people uſe it, inſtead of ſtone, to build their cottages with.

Their marble is either black, white, or red, and ſome veined with white and red. It is dug near Hamadan and Luſiana; ſome of it will divide into large flakes, like ſlate, but the beſt comes from Tauris, and is almoſt as tranſparent as cryſtal. This kind is white, mixed with green. In the country about Tauris, alſo, is found the mineral azure. In Fars and Shirvan is found abun⯑dance of bole armoniac, and a marl, which the country people uſe inſtead of ſoap. There are ſome mines of tale, or iſinglaſs, in the ſame country.

The moſt valuable mines in Perſia, are thoſe where the Tuquois ſtones are found. There is one at Niſapour in Choraſſan, and another in a mountain between Erack and Hyrcania. All that are dug are preſerved for the King, and when he has taken thoſe he likes beſt, he or⯑ders the reſt to be ſold.

In the Gulph of Perſia, there was formerly the fineſt pearl-fiſhery in the world. Chardin ſays, it did not [326] produce leſs than the value of 50,000l. Engliſh per annum, and that he, ſaw a pearl taken out of it, that weighed fifty grains, and was perfectly ſound. But the large [...] that were uſually met with in that ſea, did not weigh above ten or twelve grains; all above that weight, the fiſhermen were obliged to lay by for the King. Whether the pearl-banks are now exhauſted, or the people are become inactive, cannot be ſaid, but the pearl-fiſhery is now in diſuſe.

There are two ſeaſons for this fiſhing, the firſt in March or April, and the other in Auguſt or September. At this time, no the oyſter-banks, were to be ſeen 2000 or 3000 fiſhing boats, in every one of which was a diver. Theſe boats being anchored in five fathom water, the diver ſtrips himſelf naked, and having fixed a piece of horn, like a pair of ſpectacles, on his noſe, to prevent the water getting in that way, and tied a ſtone to one of his feet, that he may ſink to the bottom, he takes a net, or a baſket with him, and deſcends to the bottom; a rope being faſtened under his arms, and another to the baſket. When at the bottom, having ſlipped off the cord which faſtened the ſtone to his foot, he gathers the oyſters, or nacres, puts them in his baſket, and having remained under water as long as he can, gives a ſignal to the people in the boat, to draw him up, and after⯑wards they pull up the baſket. In the mean time, the diver refreſhes himſelf with a pipe and tobacco, and dives as before, thus working from eight in the morn⯑ing [327] till eleven, and, after dinner, from twelve till three in the afternoon. It is ſaid, theſe divers will continue under water, near half a quarter of an hour at a time. Towards evening, they carry their oyſters on ſhore, where they lay them in heaps, and when they begin to dry, the oyſters open of themſelves, and the fiſhers di⯑ligently ſearch for the pearls.

CHAP. II. Of their Animals.

THERE being very little cover in the middle or ſouthern part of Perſia, there are not many wild beaſts. Deer they have ſome, and antelopes, which are much of the ſame nature, except that they are ſpotted, and have finer limbs. But in the woody parts, as Hyr⯑cania, and Cardiſtan, there are lions, tygers, leopards, wild hogs, jackalls, &c. Jackalls are ſo very domeſtic, that Hanway ſays, whenever he encamped, they would run over his bed in the night, and being very fond of leather, he was afraid they would have run away with his accoutrements; and they make ſuch a barking and howling in the woods, that there was no reſting for them; and when one begins to howl, the whole pack [328] does the ſame. The country about Hamadan, abounds in elks, which are as fleet as birds; no horſe can reach them. The Perſians call them Giran, and pretend, there is muſk near their tails.

Among their cattle, we find camels, horſes, mules, aſſes, oxen, and buffaloes, very ſerviceable; but the camel, for a beaſt of burden, much excels all the reſt, whether we conſider the weight he carries, the diſpatch he makes, or the ſmall expence of keeping him. Of theſe camels there are ſeveral kinds, ſome have two bunches upon their backs, and others but one, and there is a third ſort, engendered between a dromedary, which is a camel with two bunches, and a female with one, which are moſt eſteemed, and ſell for 20l. or 30l. each; for theſe ſeldom tire, and will carry 900, or 1,000 lb. Thoſe which travel between the Perſian gulph, and Iſ⯑pahan, are of a much leſs ſize, and do not carry above 500 or 600 weight; but, notwithſtanding this, are almoſt as ſerviceable as the other, being ſwifter of foot, and will gallop like a horſe, whereas the other ſeldom go beyond a foot-pace. Theſe ſwift camels are kept by the King and great men, to convey their women from place to place, and carry their baggage. They are uſually adorned with embroidered cloths, and ſilver-bells about their necks. A ſtring of ſix or ſeven of them are tied together when they travel, and governed by one man. They uſe neither bridle or halter to hold them in, or whips to drive them, but are governed by [329] the driver's voice, who ſings or plays to them, as they travel. It is in vain to beat them, if they tire; they never go the better for it. When they are to take up their burden, the driver touches their knees, on which they lie down on their bellies, till they are loaded, groan⯑ing, however, and giving ſigns of uneaſineſs, under a ſenſe of the fatigue which they are about to undergo. This animal is very ill-qualified to travel on the ſnow, or wet ground: they carry their legs ſo wide apart, ſays Han⯑way, it often occaſions their ſplitting themſelves; ſo that, when they fall with great burdens, they ſeldom riſe again. He met with ſeveral ſkeletons of camels ſo killed, lying near the road, the fleſh of which had been devoured by wolves. In travelling they let them graze on the road-ſide, on weeds and thiſtles, with their burdens on their backs, and ſometimes feed them with balls of barley-meal and chaff made into a paſte, with which they often mix the cotton-ſeed. Conſidering the ſize of this animal, it is the ſmalleſt feeder of any beaſt; and it is a happy circumſtance that they will live without wa⯑ter two or three days together; for there is ſcarce any to be met with in thoſe deſarts the caravans are obliged to croſs. They ſhed their hair every ſpring, and are per⯑fectly naked. Of camels hair abundance of ſtuffs are made. They are very tame and tractable, except at rutting time, which laſts 30 or 40 days; and then they are more unruly, which makes the drivers increaſe their loads to keep down their fleſh. When once a male has covered a female, he grows ſluggiſh and unwilling to [330] leave her. They copulate as other four-footed ani⯑mals do, except that the female lies down on her belly, as ſhe does to receive her load. They go eleven months with young.

Oxen, buffaloes, apes, and mules, are alſo uſed indif⯑ferently for carrying of paſſengers, or burdens; and their land being ploughed by buffaloes and oxen, theſe beaſts are ſeldom killed for food. The aſſes of Perſia are much larger and ſwifter than ours, and will perform a journey very well. But the fineſt beaſts are their horſes. Theſe are beautiful creatures, and no where better managed than in Perſia. The breed of horſes in Fars is at pre⯑ſent very indifferent, owing to the ruinous ſtate of the country, but in the province of Duſhtiſtaàn, lying to the ſouth-weſt, it is remarkably good. They have fine fore⯑heads, and are well proportioned, light, and ſprightly, but only uſed for the ſaddle. They are never gelt, and wear their tails at full length. Though they are lovely creatures to look on, they are neither ſo ſwift as the Ara⯑bian horſes, nor ſo hardy as the Tartars; and the King has always a ſtable of the Arabian breed. Horſes are very dear in Perſia, ſome of them being ſold for two or three hundred pounds, and ſeldom for leſs than fifty pounds each. It is not ſo much their ſcarcity that occa⯑ſions this price, as the numbers that are ſold to India and Turkey. They have mules alſo that carry very well, and are ſold at 30 and 40 pounds a-piece; and aſſes, that are taught to pace, are valued at nearly as much.

[331]The common feed for horſes is barley and chopped ſtraw. They have no mangers in their ſtables, but give their horſes corn in bags, as our hackney-coach⯑men do. In the ſpring, they cut green graſs for their horſes, but never make any into hay. Sometimes they feed their horſes with barley-meal balls, as in India. In⯑ſtead of litter, their own dung is dried and beaten to powder, and laid a foot deep for them to lie on; and if any of it be wetted, it is dried in the ſun the next day. Their horſes' hoofs are much ſounder and harder than ours, and they are ſhod (as are their oxen) with thin, light places.

They daub their horſes legs in winter with the yellow herb Hannah, and ſometimes anoint their bodies with it as high as the breaſt, to keep out the cold, as they ſay; but it appears to be rather done by way of orna⯑ment; for in ſome places they do it all the year round.

The King has large ſtables of horſes, diſperſed through⯑out the kingdom, almoſt in every city, for the public ſervice. A horſe is ſeldom refuſed to any man that aſks for one, if he can, and will, keep it; but then ſuch per⯑ſons are accountable to government for them, when they ſhall be called out; but till then they may ride them. Theſe troopers horſes are ſometimes quartered upon people againſt their conſent; and if any horſe dies in their hands, oath muſt be made that it did not die for want of food or care.

[332]Of ſheep and goats there are great plenty. The natives ſeldom eat any other meat. The ſheep at Shirauz are of a ſuperior flavour, owing to the excel⯑lence of the paſturage in that neighbourhood, and are remarkable for the fineneſs of their fleece. They have broad flat tails, as in Tartary and ſome other places, ſo large, that, Mr. Franklin ſays, he has ſeen ſome that weighed more than 30 pounds; but thoſe which are ſold in the markets don't weigh above ſix or ſeven pounds. [Such a ſheep is repreſented in the Kalmuck Smoking Party, p. 302, vol. II.] They are remarkable alſo in ſome parts of Perſia for having more horns than ours. I have ſeen ſome, ſays Chardin, with ſix or ſeven horns, ſome ſtand⯑ing ſtrait out of their foreheads; ſo that when their rams engage, there is uſually a great deal of blood ſpilt in the battle. Perſian goats are good eating, and their wool or hair is ſo fine, that great quantities of it are exported. Hogs, there are ſcarce any; for, as the Mahomedans, who are the governing part of the nation, abhor this ani⯑mal, the Chriſtians do not endeavour to increaſe the breed, unleſs about Georgia and Armenia, where the Chriſtians are very numerous.

Inſects, they are not much troubled with in the heart of Perſia, which is very dry, unleſs it be with ſwarms of locuſts which ſometimes viſit them: theſe fly in ſuch numbers as to look like a cloud, and darken the ſky, and, wherever they alight, deſtroy the fruits of the earth; but Providence has ſo ordained it, that there are certain [333] birds, which generally viſit the country about the ſame time, eat up the locuſts, and ſo prevent the ruin of the huſbandmen.

There are almoſt all the ſame ſorts of tame and wild fowl in Perſia as in Europe. Turkeys have been im⯑ported into Iſpahan, but do not thrive there. Pigeons they take the utmoſt care to increaſe, on account of their dung, with which they raiſe their melons. Their dove⯑cots are five times as large ours, of around form, and hand⯑ſomely built of brick; and of theſe, it is ſaid, there are not leſs than 3,000 in the city of Iſpahan alone. This dung is uſually ſold for 4d. the biſty, or 12 pounds weight; and government has laid a ſmall tax upon it.

As to eagles, hawks, falcons, and other birds of prey, there is no country where they have more, or where they are better inſtructed to take the prey, than in Perſia. The King has 800 or 1,000 of them; and there is no man of any figure, without his hawks and his falconer.

As there are ſo few rivers, river-fiſh is very ſcarce, and ſeldom eaten; but the Caſpian ſea and the Perſian gulph furniſh them with plenty of ſea-fiſh, of almoſt every kind.

CHAP. III. Of their Cities.

I PROCEED now to deſcribe ſome of their principal cities; and as Iſpahan is the capital, we will begin with that.

Iſpahan, or as it is pronounced, Spahawn, lies in 32 degrees 40 minutes north latitude, and 50 degrees eaſt longitude from London, It is ſituated in the pro⯑vince of Erack, which was the ancient Parthia, and now reckoned the principal province of the empire, being of very large extent, and almoſt in the centre of the Perſian dominions. It ſtands in a fine plain, almoſt ſurrounded with mountains, which lie about two or three leagues from it, and the form is pretty oval. The river Senderhout runs by it, at about a mile diſtance; but there are ſeveral channels and pipes above the town, which convey the water from it into canals and baſons, for the uſe of the city. The town is without walls, and about ten or twelve miles in circuit. Some travellers have ſaid it is ten leagues round, but they muſt take in Julpha, a town on the other ſide of the river, about a mile from Iſpahan, and about two miles ſquare; the ſtreets are wider than thoſe of Iſpahan, with trees planted in [335] them, and gardens round the houſes, ſo that it reſembles a country village. It is inhabited by a colony of Ar⯑menians, though there are ſome Georgians, and ſeveral other Chriſtian inhabitants, and alſo ſome convents of Europeans, but no Mahomedans. But to return to Iſpahan.

There were formerly twelve gates to the city, but four of them are now ſhut up. The ſtreets are generally narrowand crooked, and either exceedingly dirty or duſty, not being paved. Though there are no coaches or carts, yet all the people, of any diſtinction, riding through them, with great trains of ſervants, renders them very unpleaſant. There are, however, ſome very fine ſquares in the town, particularly the Meydan, or Royal Square, into which opens two of the palace gates. On the ſides of this ſquare, which is one-third of a mile in length, and more than half as much broad, are buildings much like the New Exchange in the Strand, London, a covered way, with ſhops on both ſides, where every particular trade has a quarter aſſigned; and there is a ſecond ſtory, where mechanicks have their working ſhops. There ſeems to be little difference between theſe Exchanges and ours, except that thoſe of Iſpahan have no windows, but great openings at proper diſtances to let in the light; and people ride through them as along the ſtreets. In the middle of the ſquare there is a market for horſes and cattle, and all manner of goods and eatables are expoſed to ſale. On that ſide of the [336] ſquare next the palace, there is a fine row of trees, and a handſome baſon of water: and ſome great braſs guns, taken from the Portugueſe at Ormus, ſerve to make a ſhow. At the ſouth end of the ſquare is a great moſque, and another on the eaſt ſide, over againſt the great gate of the palace. Several ſtreets are covered and arched over, which makes them pretty dark, and this ſeems to be peculiar to the Perſian towns; as is, that their houſes are at ſome diſtance from their ſhops. It is a common thing for a tradeſman to go half a mile in the morning to the bazar, or market-place, where his ſhop is; and at night he locks up his valuable goods in cheſts and counters, and the reſt are left packed up in the open ſquare; and ſeldom is any thing loſt, ſo care⯑ful are the watch appointed to guard the market-place, and ſo very little are the people, in this part of the world, given to thieving. Indeed the ſpeedy and exemplary puniſhments inflicted upon pilferers, is one great means to deter them from it.

Foreign merchants lodge their goods in the public caravanſeras, of which there are not leſs than 1,500 in the city of Iſpahan. Theſe are large buildings erected, from time to time, by charitable people for the uſe of ſtrangers, which ſerve them alſo inſtead of inns for lodging and diet; but there is this difference between an inn and a caravanſera, that, in the laſt, every one finds his own bedding and cookery, whereas in the firſt we have not that trouble. There are two things, however, [337] that render a caravanſera preferable to an inn; one is, that a perſon is not ſubject to extortion, but buys his proviſion at the beſt hand; and the other, that let the merchant take up ever ſo many rooms, he is not diſ⯑turbed in them, and pays but a trifle for warehouſe and lodging, and on the road he pays nothing. Moſt of them are built on the ſame plan, and differ only in dimenſions. There is a handſome portal at the entrance of each cara⯑vanſera, on the ſides of which are ſhops, from whence you enter into a quadrangle, round which there is a cloiſter, or piazza, and within are lodging-rooms and warehouſes for goods. There is alſo ſtabling and con⯑veniences for horſes and other beaſts on the outſide, or they may be brought into the quadrangle, and there tied; which is common on the roads, where there is no danger of robbers. In ſhort, both in the cities, and on the road, theſe caravanſeras are empty, unfurniſhed inns, which travellers may make uſe of at their pleaſure. Some have baſons of water in the centre of he qua⯑drangle.

As the Mahomedan religion prevents the uſe of wine, there are no taverns in Iſpahan, though ſome of the Perſians will drink pretty plentifully in private; but there are handſome coffee-houſes in the principal parts of the town, where people meet and talk politics, though they have no printed news-papers. In ſuch places we meet with ſome amuſement peculiar to the country, as the harangues of their poets, hiſtorians, and prieſts, [338] who hold forth and get a crowd about them, as Dr. Byfield, of comical memory, did formerly in London in the coffee-houſes about the Exchange and Temple; and, it ſeems, they expect a ſmall preſent from their audi⯑ence for the entertainment.

The palace, with the gardens belonging to it, takes up above a league in compaſs. Over the two gates, which come up to the royal meydan, or ſquare, is a gallery, where the Sophi or King uſed to ſit and ſee mar⯑tial exerciſes p [...]rformed on horſeback. No part of the palace, where the court reſides, reaches this ſquare; but, having entered the principal gate, there is a hall or court-room on the left hand, where the vizier and other judges adminiſter juſtice on certain days; and, on the right, are rooms where offenders are allowed to take ſanctuary. From hence to the hall, where the King uſually gives audience, is a handſome covered walk. It is a long room beautifully painted and gilt, and ſup⯑ported by 40 pillars, divided into three parts, one a ſtep higher than the other, on which the great officers ſtand according to their rank. As to hereditary nobility, there is no ſuch thing in Perſia. On the third aſcent is the royal throne, raiſed about a foot and a half from the floor, and about eight feet ſquare, on which is ſpread a rich carpet. Here the King ſits croſs-legged upon ſo⯑lemn occaſions, having a brocaded cuſhion under him, and another at his back. This is the only part of the palace which foreigners, can ſee; of the reſt, and particu⯑larly [339] the haram, or women's apartments, as none but eunuchs are permitted to enter them, no exact deſcrip⯑tion can be given; but they are ſaid to conſiſt of ſepa⯑rate pleaſure-houſes, diſperſed about the gardens, much in the ſame form with thoſe of perſons of diſtinction, which I ſhall deſcribe; and that their great beauty conſiſts in fine walks, fountains, and caſcades. Be⯑yond the garden the Sophi has a large park walled in, where the ladies hunt, and take their pleaſure with the prince.

I will endeavour to enliven this detail with ſome deſcriptions of the royal harams in Iſpahan. A thouſand fanciful things have been related, and merely on the ſtrength of imagination, reſpecting theſe places, which travellers have never been admitted to ſee; ſome par⯑ticulars, however, have been learned from the eunuchs and women, who frequent thoſe apartments, and furniſh the ladies with toys. From theſe we underſtand, that the women's quarter of the palace is the moſt magnificent, and beſt furniſhed of the whole, the prince ſpending the beſt part of his time here. It is ſaid alſo, that the eco⯑nomy of this inward palace is much the ſame with the outer, and that the women have their ſeveral poſts and employments here, as the men have in the other; that there are ſtewards, ſecretaries, treaſurers, guards, &c. all of the fair ſex; whoſe cabals frequently embarraſs and fruſtrate the beſt-laid deſigns of the miniſters without.

[340]In the haram there are three ranks of women; firſt, princeſſes which are born there, whom they call Begum, as they do the princeſſes of the blood-royal in the court of the Mogul: ſecond, thoſe by whom the King has any children, or who are his miſ⯑treſſes, theſe have the title of Canum, correſponding to that of Chan, or Khan, among the men: and, third, thoſe whom the king has never taken to his embraces, and many of whom he ſcarcely knows, theſe are called Katun, or ladies only. All the reſt have the appellation of ſlaves, and are employed in ſervile of⯑fices.

In the royal haram are ſeveral diſtinct buildings, which have no communication with each other. When a King dies, thoſe ladies with whom he has converſed as wives, are ſhut up in a quarter by themſelves, from whence they are not permitted to ſtir out as long as they live, unleſs it be the mother of the ſucceeding prince, who has generally great influence in affairs, and almoſt a ſovereign authority within the limits of the haram.

When a ſon or brother of the King's is marriageable, he generally gives him the choice of a miſtreſs among the ladies of the haram, and ſometimes of two or more, according to the love he bears him; he gives him alſo ſuch a number of domeſtics as are ſuitable to his rank, conſiſting of female ſlaves and eunuchs, and an apart⯑ment [341] in the palace, where he remains confined. The mothers of theſe princes and their ſervants generally re⯑tire with them to keep them company; for theſe princes are never after to have any converſation with the reſt of the haram, without the King's leave. If they are ever known to have an intrigue with any other ladies, than thoſe they have made choice of, it is fatal to both parties: a ſingle glance only, is as much as their lives are worth. And what is ſtill worſe, they are excluded from the con⯑verſation of all men, except the eunuchs, who are placed about them; ſo that ſhould they ſucceed to the crown, they are as ignorant of all worldly affairs, as if they had juſt dropped from the clouds. As to the young prin⯑ceſſes, their mothers generally uſe their intereſt with the King to get them married, as ſoon as they are of a proper age.

There are a great variety of beauties confined in the King of Perſia's haram, for the chans and governors are continually ſending up a freſh ſupply of young virgins from all parts of his dominions. If they hear of a beautiful girl in any family, they immediately demand her; and her parents are not much averſe to parting with her, but are rather proud they have an opportunity of obliging their prince, eſpecially as it may be a means of raiſing the whole family. For whenever a young per⯑ſon enters the haram, a penſion is ſettled on her neareſt relation. If ſhe becomes a confidant, or miſtreſs to the King, the penſion is increaſed; and if he has children [342] by her, ſhe ſeldom fails to procure the advancement of all her relations. In the haram are the daughters of ſome of the governors of provinces, and the greateſt lords of the court; but there are many more Georgians and Circaſſian women of meaner birth, theſe being ſaid to excel the reſt of the world in beauty, and ſome of theſe generally captivate the young monarch's heart.

What is reported of the unnatural and cruel practices in the haram is very ſhocking. So long as the King is without children, every one of his miſtreſſes is deſirous of having one, in hopes that their iſſue will ſucceed to the crown, in which their happineſs very much depends; but when they find the King has ſeveral children, they do all they can to prevent having them, or to procure abortion; for, except the firſt happy woman that has a child, the reſt, after they have any, are confined to an apartment, where they live in perpetual apprehenſion of having their children murdered; or, at leaſt, deprived of ſight, upon barbarous maxims of ſtate, that there may be no competitors for the crown, as a blind-man is not permitted to reign. This cruelty ſeldom fails to be executed ſooner or later, either in the reign of the pre⯑ſent King, or that of his ſucceſſor.

Hence it is, that the ladies of the haram dread nothing ſo much as having children. Their principal aim is to be married to ſome great man; which they ſometimes [343] accompliſh by inſinuating themſelves into the good graces of the King's mother, the mother of his eldeſt ſon, or the King himſelf. The King's mother holds a conſtant correſpondence with the miniſters of ſtate, who frequently deſire her to beſtow on them one of the ladies of the haram, in hopes of advancing their intereſt at court; and happy is ſhe who is thus given to a great man, as ſhe thereby becomes a wife, according to the Perſian law, is miſtreſs of his houſe, and is treated as the daughter of a King.

The women of the haram, when they grow too nu⯑merous, are ſometimes alſo married to clear the palace, and leſſen the expence; but thoſe who have been with child by the King, are ſeldom, if ever, ſent out of the haram, which is one reaſon they are not very fond of his favours. Abbas II. who reigned in the middle of the laſt century, it is ſaid, cauſed one of his beloved miſtreſſes to be burnt alive, becauſe ſhe ſlighted his embraces. He ſent her word, it ſeems, one evening, that he deſigned to have her company that night; to which ſhe anſwered, that ſhe was not in a ſtate fit to approach his majeſty, on account of a certain indiſpoſition. The King, therefore, deferred his viſit, but went to ſee her the next morning, and find⯑ing that ſhe had deceived him, he ſlew into a paſſion, and ordering a fire to be made, cauſed her to be burnt in his preſence.

[344]The guards of the haram are compoſed of three dif⯑ferent bodies, 1. The white eunuchs, who guard the outer gate. Theſe never come within ſight of the wo⯑men, leſt it ſhould incite in them an amorous inclination. 2. The black eunuchs. Theſe are generally from the coaſt of Malabar. Their ſtation is in the ſecond court, and the oldeſt and moſt deformed of theſe are ſelected to attend the ladies, and carry meſſages to and fro. The reſt are employed either in the gardens, kitchens, or other places remote from the women's apartments. 3. The third and innermoſt guard, it is ſaid, are com⯑poſed of women, commanded by ſome antiquated ma⯑tron, who receives orders from the prince himſelf, and conveys his majeſty's commands by the eunuchs which attend, to the guards without.

The women of the haram are all lodged in ſeparate chambers, or, at moſt, two in one room, in which caſe they put an old woman and a young one together.

The ladies of one apartment are not ſuffered to viſit thoſe of another, without leave. This is to prevent quarrels among rival miſtreſſes, or, as ſome ſay, left they ſhould fall in love with each other, and be guilty of in⯑decent familiarities, which is not uncommon in the Eaſt, where they are ſo ſtrictly kept from the converſation of men. The women who frequent the haram, report ſur⯑priſing things of the paſſion theſe young women have for each other, of the jealouſies they entertain of their [345] rivals, and of the plots and conſpiracies of one favou⯑rite miſtreſs againſt another. Thoſe who delight the King moſt with their ſinging, their dancing, or their wit, are ſure to become the envy of the reſt; and the King is not a little troubled ſometimes with their con⯑trivances to betray and ſupplant one another. When he is provoked, he will order one to be confined, another to be beaten, and a third, perhaps, from a favourite, is turned among the common ſlaves. Nay, he proceeds ſo far ſometimes as to put them to death, ſo that a ſe⯑raglio, or haram, is far from being that earthly paradiſe ſome are apt to imagine.

It is reported alſo, that the greateſt part of the royal infants are put to death as ſoon as born, to prevent their being too numerous. The King's mother has the di⯑rection of theſe matters; and her orders are executed, without the leaſt horror or remorſe. She is, as it were, the governeſs of all her ſon's miſtreſſes and favourites: their fortune, and that of their children ſeems to be en⯑tirely in her hands, and it is not eaſy for them, without her, to preſerve the King's affection long. The King is never formally married to any of his miſtreſſes, but takes which of the ladies he pleaſes to his bed, without any manner of ceremony. Thoſe he is intimate with, are but a ſmall number. The others indeed, ſing, dance, and play, before him, and contribute to his pleaſures in another manner; but, from the diſtractions he meets with in a variety of conſorts, he frequently fixes upon ſome [346] one, who may properly enough be ſtiled, the Queen of the Haram. Amid ſuch a number of rival beauties, the prince is ſenſible he can have but the hearts of a very few, and ſhe whom he moſt admires, perhaps has leaſt affection to his perſon. Happy is the lady whom the King admires, and can make him believe ſhe has an equal paſſion for him!

The ladies of the Haram never viſit out of the palace, but receive the viſits of their female relations: and it is obſerved, in general, throughout Perſia, that thoſe of the greateſt quality of that ſex, ſtir the leaſt from home, ſcarce ever going abroad, but on ſome extraordinary occaſion, as to a wedding, a lying-in, or upon ſome feſ⯑tival: but when they do go, their viſits uſually laſt ſeven or eight hours. They take with them their ſhe-ſlaves and eunuchs, and the huſband, uſually ſends a gover⯑nante and eunuchs of his own, to obſerve their con⯑duct.

As theſe ladies follow the King to his other palaces, or to camp in time of war, they travel always in the night. A troop of horſe uſually marches a hundred paces before them, and another troop in the rear, crying out, Courouc, Courouc, by which every man more than ſeven years of age, underſtands he is to retire to a proper diſtance. The eunuchs with their batons alſo on horſeback, march between the guards and the women, and if any man is found in the way, or within the limits prohibited, he is [347] put to death. If they march through a city, the men in the ſtreet through which they paſs, and thoſe adjoin⯑ing, are all obliged to leave their houſes, and fly to ſome other part of the town, as thoſe of the villages are, for a league together, on the right and left of the road through which they are to march; and a detachment of dragoons is uſually ſent half a day before, to drive them away. They fire a muſquet at little intervals, to give notice of their approach, and all men that hear it, fly as faſt as they can. And it is ſaid, there are frequent examples of men being killed by the eunuchs, who have not been wiſe enough, or fortunate enough, to get out of the way in time.

In the city of Iſpahan, are above 150 Mahomedan moſques or temples, covered with domes or cupolas, which, appearing through the trees that are planted al⯑moſt all over the town, in the ſtreets or gardens, afford an agreeable proſpect; but the common buildings are ſo low, as ſcarce to be diſcernable by one who takes a view of the town from without.

As no Chriſtian is admitted within their moſques, it is not eaſy to meet with a particular deſcription of them. Thoſe who have ſeen the great moſque of Iſpahan, in diſguiſe, tell us, there is a gate leading to it, covered with ſilver plates. Through this, we proceed to a qua⯑drangle, with a piazza on each ſide, where the prieſts lodge who belong to the moſque. In the centre, is a large [348] baſon of water, where the people waſh themſelves before they enter the temple. In this ſpuare, oppoſite the great gate, are three large doors, which open into it. The whole building conſiſts of five aiſles, beautified with gold and azure. In the middle is the cupola, ſup⯑ported by four, great, ſquare pillars. The aiſles, on the ſides, are lower than the middle one, and borne up, by thick columns of free-ſtone. Two great windows to⯑wards the top of the middle aiſle, give light to the whole moſque. On the left, towards the middle, ſtands a kind of pulpit, with ſtone-ſteps to go up to it. There are no ſeats or pews, as in Chriſtian churches, or any kind of imagery or pictures; but the floor is carpeted, and all per⯑ſons put off their ſhoes on entering. The walls within, are lined 15 feet high, with white poliſhed marble. The building without, is ſtone, but painted with varniſh-colours, and on the cupola, is a tower where the prieſts go up to ſummon the people to their devotion; for no bells are made uſe of.

Mr. Franklin, who got admiſſion, in diſguiſe, into the chief moſque at Shirauz, and who is moſt to be relied on, gives the following deſcription of it; and as theſe tem⯑ples throughout the country are ſimilar to each other, one deſcription will ſerve for all. It is of a ſquare form; in the centre is a ſtone reſervoir of water, made for per⯑forming the neceſſary ablutions, or waſhings, previous to prayer. On the four ſides of the building are arched apartments, allotted for devotions, ſome of the fronts of [349] which are covered with china tiles, others with a blue and white enamelled work. Within theſe receſſes or apartments, on the walls on each ſide, are various ſen⯑tences engraved from the Koran, in the Nuſkhi character; and at the upper end of the ſquare, is a large dome with a cupola at top. This is the place appropriated for the devotion of the Vakeel or regent. It is lined through⯑out with white marble, ornamented with curious blue and gold, artificial lapis lazuli, and has three large ſilver lamps ſuſpended from the centre of the dome. Here Mullahs, or prieſts, are conſtantly employed in reading the Koran. This moſque has very good detached apart⯑ments, with places for ablutions and other religious cere⯑monies; and, at a little diſtance, on the outſide, are a range of handſome buildings, inhabited by Mullahs, Derviſes, and other religious men.

There are here, a number of hummums or bagnios; ſome of theſe are ſquare buildings, but moſt of them round, built with white poliſhed ſtone, and covered with tiles, painted blue. The inſide is divided into many re⯑ceſſes or chambers, ſome for pleaſure, and others for ſweating; and the floors are laid with black and white marble. The Perſians bathe almoſt every day, conſi⯑dering it as healthy, and an effectual remedy for colds and other diſorders.

But what is admired as much by foreigners, as any thing about Iſpahan, is the Charbag. This is a walk [350] above 100 yards wide, and a mile long, reaching from the city to the river. On each ſide are planted double rows of trees, and in the middle runs a canal, not conti⯑nued on a level; but at the diſtance of every furlong, the water falls into a large baſon, forming a caſcade. The ſides, both of the canal and baſons, are lined with hewn ſtone, broad enough for ſeveral men to walk a-breaſt. On each ſide of this walk, are the royal gardens, and thoſe of great men, with pleaſure-houſes, at a ſmall diſtance; and the whole together, forms as agreeable a place and proſpect, as can be conceived.

At the end of this walk is a bridge over the river, which leads to Julpha. There are alſo two other bridges, one on the right, and the other on the left, by which the neighbouring villages have a communication with the city. The architecture of theſe bridges is uncom⯑mon. This river is not navigable, though, in ſpring, owing to the melting of the ſnows on the mountains, it is almoſt as broad as the Thames at London, yet in ſummer the channel is exceedingly narrow and ſhallow, ſcarce ſufficient to ſupply the city with water. Now, not being navigable, the arches of the bridges are not very high, and on each ſide, both above and below, are covered paſſages through which people ride from one end of the bridge to the other, as in the covered ſtreets of the city; and at little diſtances there are openings to admit of light.

[351]Sir John Chardin tells us, the Eaſt-India Company had a factory at Iſpahan, but being ſo harraſſed and oppreſſed in the civil wars, the Company ordered their ſervants to retire to Boſſora, the territory of which is governed by its own prince, but tributary to the Grand Signior. This city ſtands on the Tigris, two days journey below Bagdat. Owing to theſe wars, out of 100,000 magnificent houſes in Iſpahan only 5,000 are now inhabited; and among theſe are 57 colleges of royal foundations. Another reaſon of the houſes going to ruin is, that every generation chuſes to build new houſes to live in, and of courſe never repair thoſe of their anceſtors.

The houſes of perſons of quality are generally built in the middle of a fine garden, and make little or no ap⯑pearance in the ſtreets. We ſee nothing but a dead wall, with a great gate in the middle, and perhaps a ſcreen or wall within the gate, to prevent perſons looking in: ſo fond are they of privacy and retirement; far from our method of building, where we lay our country-ſeats as open as poſſible, and ſeem to intimate, that there is no enjoyment in the fineſt palaces, but what reſults from the admiration of the crowd that paſſes by our gates. Their houſes have but one floor, laid out as follows: In the front of the houſe ſtands the virando, being a little piazza open before, where they ſit and tranſact their com⯑mon affairs; beyond this is a large hall, the divan, 18 or 20 feet high, uſed at great entertainments, or on any ſolemn occaſions. On the farther ſide of the houſe is [352] another virando, with a baſon, a fountain of water be⯑fore it, beyond which runs a walk of fine trees, as there does alſo from the ſtreet to the houſe. At each corner of the hall is a parlour, or lodging-room (for it ſerves both purpoſes occaſionally). Between theſe parlours on the ſides there are doors out of the hall into an open ſquare ſpace, as large as the rooms are at the corners. There are alſo ſeveral doors out of the hall into the virando, before and behind the houſe; ſo that in hot weather they can ſet open nine or ten doors at once in the great hall to give air. In ſome palaces there is a ha [...]ſome baſon, and a fountain playing, in the middle of the hall, which contributes ſtill more to its coolneſs. The walls of their houſes are built ſometimes of burnt bricks, but moſt commonly of bricks dried in the ſun. The walls are of conſiderable thickneſs, and the roof of the great hall is arched, and five or ſix feet higher than the other rooms about it. The roofs of the buildings, on every ſide of the hall, are flat, with a balluſtrade round them; and there is a pair of ſtairs up to the top, where the family walks in the cool of the day, and ſometimes carry up a matraſs, and lie there all night. The kitchens, and other offices are at a diſtance on the right and left, and all their rooms, except the hall, ſtand detached from each other, having no paſſage from one to another, ex⯑cept from the hall. There are ſome few chimnies, but in general, inſtead of a chimney, the rooms have a round hole, about four or five feet diameter, and a foot and a half deep, in the middle of the room, in which a [353] charcoal fire is made, and the place covered with a thick board or table about a foot high, ſo cloſe that no ſmoke can get out; and over this table is thrown a large carpet, under which they put their legs in cold weather, and ſit round, there being a paſſage for the ſmoke by pipes under the floor.

The doors of their houſes are narrow, and ſeldom turn upon hinges, but there is a round piece left at the top and bottom of the door, which are let into a frame above and below, on which they turn; and the very locks and bolts are frequently made of wood. Their furniture conſiſts only of carpets ſpread on the floor, with cuſhions and pillows to lean on; and at night a matraſs is brought to ſleep on, and a quilt or two to cover them, but very ſeldom any ſheets. The Perſians lay in their under⯑garments. Servants lie about in any paſſage on mats, and take up but little room. The floors are either paved or made up of a hard cement, on which they lay a coarſe cloth, and over that a carpet. The ſides of the rooms are lined, about three feet high, with fine tiles not unlike the Dutch tiles, and the reſt of the wall painted or hung with pictures. The houſes of the inferior peo⯑ple are built on the ſame plan, as much like thoſe I have deſcribed as they can afford, and the palaces of princes are only more lofty and more magnificent.

In the city of Caſbin, Hanway ſays, the aivan or hall, has niches in the wall or receſſes, which anſwers [354] the purpoſe of tables. The floors are covered with large worſted carpets; and round the ſides are felts made with wool or camel's hair, very ſoft and thick, about three feet wide, and from ſeven to nine long, placed there to ſit on. In this hall the family ſits, when they do not retire to the women's apartments, where no man but the maſter of it is admitted. The haram, or women's apartment is, generally, for the ſake of privacy, entered by two turnings. This city ſtands on very high land, though a plain, and ſurrounded by mountains, and the houſes in general, of which only 1,100 are inhabited out of 12,000, the reſt being in ruins, or are ſunk below the ſurface of the earth, as are many of the gardens ad⯑joining them, for the convenience of being on a level with the water brought to Caſbin in channels from a conſiderable diſtance. They are built with ſun-dried bricks, and cemented with ſtrong lime; the reſt are flat, and the family in ſummer-time often ſleep on the top of them. Theſe buildings are encloſed with a mud-wall.

There is a palace in this city built about 40 years ago, which Hanway thus deſcribes. The entrance is formed by an avenue of lofty trees, near 300 yards long, and 15 or 20 broad; the wall round it is about a mile and a half Engliſh, in circumference, thick and lofty, having one entrance, an arched gate. Within the gate are four large ſquares, with lofty trees, fountains, and running water, which makes the place awful and ma⯑jeſtic. [355] The apartments are raiſed about ſix feet from the ground. The aivan, or open hall, is in the centre, and ſhut in with falling doors. The apartments are ornamented in an Indian taſte, and the cielings formed into ſmall ſquares embelliſhed with writings, of moral ſentences, in very legible characters. Moſt of the windows are of thick coloured glaſs, made tranſparent, and painted with ſuch art, and in ſuch proper ſhades, that the glaſs ſeems cut into the ſeveral figures it is deſigned to repreſent. Many of the floors are only of hard earth, and others of a compoſition of beaten ſtone, and all covered with carpeting.

The haram of this palace is magnificent, conſiſting of a ſquare ſurrounded by brick walls, about 30 feet high, and two feet and a half thick. Within are four diſtinct apartments, in ſome of which are fountains to give coolneſs and refreſh the air. The rooms are lined with ſtucco-work, painted in the Indian taſte, with birds and flowers of different magnitude; the colours beautiful, and ſet off with gilt edges. The aparments have ſmall chimney-pieces in a mean taſte, and ſome are orna⯑mented with looking-glaſſes, in ſmall ſquares of many different dimenſions ſet into the walls. There are alſo ſome few apartments below ground admirably contrived for coolneſs. Near the haram is the eunuchs' apart⯑ment, remarkable for having but one door, and that a very ſtrong one. This new palace is built adjoining to the old one, of which ſome few of the apartments are [356] ſtill ſtanding, and ornamented with ſome bad pieces of European figures by European painters. The Perſians themſelves are as ignorant of ſhades as the Chineſe: the apartments where the Shah, or King kept his Caſbin treaſury, Mr. Hanway was not permitted to ſee, nor even the place where it ſtood; but he was told it contained above 20,000,000 of crowns, or four millions of our money; and that part of it was in large ingots of gold, run into cavities in the earth, the better to ſecure it from plunder.

Caſbin is encloſed within a wall above a mile in each ſquare ſide, with a great number of regular turrets and port-holes for arrows. It is renowned in hiſtory, as being one of the chief cities of ancient Parthia, the reſidence of many of the Perſian Kings, and the burial place of Epheſ⯑tion, the favourite of Alexander the Great. Here is a very noted caravanſera, with a large entrance and mag⯑nificent dome, which coſt 27,000 crowns.

At Aſhreef, on the Caſpian ſea, is another palace. Over the gate, which forms the entrance, are the arms of Perſia, viz. a lion, with the ſun riſing behind it, alluding to the ſtrength and glory of the Perſian monarchy. Within this gate is a long avenue, on each ſide of which are 30 apartments intended for a royal guard. The next gate in front opens into a garden, in the middle of which is a canal made with ſtone about three feet wide, and one deep, in which runs a ſtream of water, which has four [357] falls about an ell high, 30 yards diſtant from each other, each having a ſmall baſon and fountain. Theſe falls muſt have a fine effect; for, on the ſide near the ſtream, holes are cut to fix candles at equal diſtances, to the num⯑ber of about 1000. At the head of theſe is a large ſtone baſon, about ſix feet deep. In the building near this baſon, is a ſumptuous aivan, or hall, painted with gold flowers, on a blue ground, very well executed. Here are alſo ſeveral portraits, ſeem to have been done by a Hollander, but no maſterly hand: on the ſides of the aivan are ſeveral ſmall apartments, and behind it, three other caſcades, falling down the ſide of a ſteep mountain covered with wood.

The garden conſiſts chiefly in walks, bordered by very large pines, orange and other fruit-trees diſperſed in beds, with ſtreams of water running between them. Hence, ſays Mr. Hanway, I was carried into another garden much in the ſame taſte, in which ſtood the haram. There was no perſon in it; yet, being the women's apart⯑ment, it was conſidered as ſacred, and we were not per⯑mitted to enter it. Before it was a large baſon of water, and a ſquare with marble benches at each corner. A ſycamore tree of a prodigious ſize, in the centre ſhaded the whole with its extended branches. Here were alſo caſcades as before. Thence we were conducted to a banquetting-houſe, which was dedicated to a grandſon of Ali. Out of reſpect to this place, we were deſired to leave our ſwords at the door. The ſolemnity with which [358] we were conducted ſtruck me with a kind of religious awe; but this was ſoon changed into contempt, for the rooms were adorned with paintings, that could only pleaſe a voluptuous Mahomedan, all executed by a European hand, but ill done. The room had no furniture, but a number of rich carpets, at that time, piled up in great heaps.

We were ſhewn a fourth houſe and garden, in which was the ſpring that gave water to the greateſt part of the whole. In this was a ſtately dome, whoſe top was in⯑differently well painted, and the walls were covered with Dutch tiles, as high as the gallery. At ſome diſtance from thi [...], is a ſmall building ſeemingly intended for an obſervatory. The whole commands a view of a very fine country, the Caſpian ſea, being about five miles diſtance; and a diſtant proſpect of the great mountain Demoan, on which the Perſians ſay, the ark reſted, though the Armenians aſcribe this honour to mount Ararat, which is here alſo viſible in clear weather. The vicinity of the mountains on the back of this palace, the nu⯑merous caſcades, and the muſic of the birds, gave me many pleaſing ideas; but the unhappy ſituation of the people from the miſeries of acivil war, and the diſpoſitions of a tyrant, ſtill returned to my thoughts, blunted the edge of that I might otherwiſe have received.

Shirauz is the ſecond city in magnitude in all Perſia. It is the capital of the province of Fars, and lies in the latitude 29 degrees, 30 minutes, about 200 miles ſouth [359] of Iſpahan. Tradition ſays, Cyrus the great and foun⯑der of the Perſian empire was here buried, and it was thence called Shirauz. It is ſituated in a valley of great extent and ſurprizing fertility. This valley is 26 miles long, and 12 broad, and is ſurrounded on all ſides by mountains. The city, in circumference, is one furſeng and 60 meaſured paces; each furſeng, four Engliſh miles: it is well fortified conſidering the country. A wall ex⯑tends quite round the city, 25 feet high, and 10 thick, with round towers at the diſtance of 80 paces from each other. It has a moſt excellent ditch round it, made but a few years paſt, 60 feet deep, and 20 broad. This alone, excluſive of the other works, would enable the city, to hold out a long time againſt any power in Perſia, where artillery is but little known and leſs uſed.

The city has ſix gates guarded by 100 men each, and four officers, who every morning and evening attend at the citadel to pay their compliments to the Khan, or King, or, in his abſence, to the Beglerbeg, or him next in rank. It is the duty of theſe guards, to prevent all perſons leaving the city without a paſs; and if any perſon ob⯑noxious to government, eſcapes, the officer's head an⯑ſwers for it. The gates are ſhut at ſun-ſet, and opened at ſun-riſe, before which time, no one can go out or come in.

At the upper end of the city, ſtands the citadel, built of burnt brick, a ſquare of 80 yards circumference, [360] flanked with round towers, and encompaſſed with a dry foſſe, of the ſame breadth and depth as that of the city; Here, Jaafer Khan, the King of the ſouthern provinces, reſides. It alſo ſerves occaſionally, as a ſtate priſon. Oppoſite to the citadel, in a large handſome ſquare, is a gallery, where the Khan's muſic, conſiſting of trumpets, kettle-drums, and other inſtruments, plays regularly at ſun-riſe and ſun-ſet. When the Khan is in camp, or on a journey, they are always placed in a tent near him. One ſide of this ſquare leads to the Dewàn Khàna, a chamber of audience; and the other leads up to the great moſque. This chamber is a very handſome building ſituated at the upper end of a large garden, to which you are conducted through an avenue planted on each ſide, with a Perſian tree, a ſpecies of the ſycamore. The room is of an oblong form, with an open front, the inſide, about one third up the wall, lined with white marble from Tauris, and the cieling and other parts, ornamented with a beautiful, gold, enamelled work, in imitation of lapis lazuli. There are ſeveral portraits in it, tolerably well executed and good likeneſſes. In front, there are three handſome fountains, with ſtone baſons conſtantly playing.

In the great ſquare before the citadel, is the Tope Khàna, or p [...] of artillery. This conſiſts of ſeveral pieces of cannon mounted on bad carriages. Moſt of the guns (which are Spaniſh and Portugueſe, excepting [361] two Engliſh 20 pounders) are ſo dreadfully honey⯑combed, that they would certainly burſt, on the firſt diſcharge.

The city has many good bazars and caravanſeras. The great market is a covered ſtreet, about a quarter of a mile long, built entirely of brick, and roofed ſome⯑thing in the ſtile of the Piazzas in Covent Garden, lofty, and well made. On each ſide are ſhops, in which a variety of goods are expoſed to ſale. Theſe ſhops are the pro⯑perty of the Khan, who rents them to the merchants at a very eaſy monthly rate. There are different bazars in Shirauz, for different companies of artificers, ſuch as goldſmiths, workers of tin, dyers, carpenters, joiners, hatters, and ſhoemakers. Theſe conſiſt of long, co⯑vered ſtreets, built very regularly.

The Jews of Shirauz have a quarter allotted to them, for which they pay a large tax to government, and are obliged to make conſiderable preſents. Theſe peo⯑ple are more odious to the Perſians, than thoſe of any other faith; and every opportunity is taken to oppreſs and extort money from them; the very boys in the ſtreet being accuſtomed to beat and inſult them, of which treatment they dare not complain. The Indians have a caravanſera allowed them in another quarter of the city, for which they are alſo under contributions. There is a mint at Shirauz, where money is coined in the name of Jaafar Khan the preſent poſſeſſor. Here the public [362] Seràfs, or money-changers, ſit, and regulate the exchange of gold and ſilver.

By the words, preſent poſſeſſor, I would be underſtood to ſay, that this nobleman now reigns as King of Perſia, in Shirauz, though another competitor for the crown, a eunuch, has taken poſſeſſion of the northern part of the kingdom; for, ſince the death of Kerim Khan in 1779, an officer in Nadir Shah's ſervice, who, after two years civil wars from the death of Nadir, ſeated himſelf on the throne, and had reigned peaceably and unmoleſted for 30 years, reſiding at Shirauz, under the title of Vakeel or regent, for he would never be called Shah, and who had took great pains to reſtore Perſia to its former ſplendor. The country has been torn by civil wars, ariſing from ſundry claimants to the throne; and as, when Mr. Franklin was at Shirauz in 1787, there were two reigning Kings in Perſia, and theſe were at war with each other, there was but little hopes of the country's recovering from the ruin⯑ous ſtate it has long been in, for ſome time to come. To ſhew the tyrannical diſpoſition of the Perſian mo⯑narchs, we need only give, from Mr. Franklin's work, a ſhort detail of Zikea Khan's conduct, who uſurped the throne on the death of Kerim Khan.

When the death of Kerim Khan was announced in Shirauz, ſays Mr. Franklin, much confuſion aroſe. Two and twenty of the principal officers of high rank and fa⯑mily, with the eldeſt ſon of Kerim, took poſſeſſion of [363] the citadel, determining to ſupport that ſon, as their ſo⯑vereign againſt all other pretenders. But Zikea Khan a relation of Kerim's by the mother's ſide, poſſeſſed of immenſe wealth, bribed great part of the army, ſtormed the citadel, and, finding he could not take it by force, had recourſe to treachery. To each of the principal officers in the citadel, he ſent a written paper, by which he ſwore upon the Koran, that if they would come out and ſub⯑mit to him, they ſhould have his protection, and their effects ſhould be ſecured to them. As they could not hold the place againſt him, they relied on his promiſes, and agreed to ſurrender. In the mean time, Zikea gave private orders to ſeize them all, had them brought before him, ſeparately, as they came out from the citadel; and theſe deluded men, were all maſſacred in his preſence. He was ſeated the whole time, feaſting his eyes on the cruel ſpectacle. The manner of their execution was very ſingular, and characteriſtic of the ſanguinary diſpo⯑ſition of the tyrant. Five or ſix Pehlwaums or wreſtlers, being ſtripped naked to the waiſt, were armed with ſcy⯑mitars; each of them ſucceſſively ſingled out a victim, and cut him to pieces: their bodies were thrown into the ſquare before the palace. Kerim's ſon's life was ſpared, but made a ſtate-priſoner, and the adherents of theſe of⯑ficers were taken into Zikea's pay. Another claimant to the crown ſtarting up, Zikea marched againſt him, and on his arrival at Yezdekhaſt, about ſix days journey north of Shirauz, he ſent word to the inhabitants, that he expected they would deliver up to him the ſum of [364] 3,000 Tomans, (about 5000l. Engliſh) which had been carried from Shirauz at the time of Kerim Khan's death. This money had been previouſly ſent to the governor of Iſpahan, appointed by the Shah who reſides at Iſpahan, and who has poſſeſſion of the northern parts of Perſia, Jaafar only poſſeſſing the ſouthern provinces. The in⯑habitants ſending word back they had not the money, and knew not what was become of it, he ordered eighteen of the principal people of the place to be brought before him. When they appeared, he again demanded what was become of the money? they ſtill pleaded ignorance, but in vain; for the cruel tyrant or⯑dered them to be thrown down the precipice which hangs over the ſo treſs of Yezdekhaſt. The ſentence was im⯑mediately executed, and they were all cruſhed to atoms. Still unſatiated with blood, and irritated by diſappoint⯑ment, this monſter gave orders for a Seiud to be brought before him. This was a man univerſally reſpected for his piety and exemplary life, and whom the people ſup⯑poſed to be a deſcendant of their prophet Mahomet. On his arrival in Zikea's preſence, he aſked him, as he had done before of the 18 principal inhabitants, where the 3,000 Tomans were concealed, and charged him him with having embezzled a part of them. In vain did the Se [...]ud plead his ignorance and innocence. Zikea with a ſavage fury, firſt ordered him to be ripped up and thrown over the precipice, which was inſtantly ex⯑ecuted, and then commanded the wife and daughter of the unhappy man to be given up to the brutal luſt of the [365] ſoldiery; but they, fortunately, were more merciful than their maſter; and being ſtruck with indignation at this cruel inſult, on a religious man, who from his deſcent was deemed a ſacred character, even amongſt the licen⯑tious, were fired with impatience to get rid of ſuch a ſacrilegious monſter. After the above horrid ſcene, Zikea gave orders to have the fortreſs of Yezdekhaſt razed to the ground, and it was immediately begun; but the meaſure of the tyrant's iniquity was full, he did not live to ſee his order completed. Seventy of the Goolaums, or body-guard, having entered into a reſolu⯑tion to deſtroy him, waited the approach of night, to put their deſign into execution. Accordingly, about nine in the evening, they, in a body, drew near the ty⯑rant's tent, where they perceived him ſitting with his piſ⯑tols and drawn ſcymitar by his ſide; for he was never unarmed. The ſight of the tyrant ſo daunted ſome of them, that, out of the 70, ſeven only had courage ſufficient to approach him. Theſe ſeven, without the ſmalleſt heſitation, cut the ropes of his tent with their ſcymitars, which falling in, and entangling him, the other men ruſhed in, and his body was cut into a thou⯑ſand pieces, and ſcattered over the encampment by the enraged ſoldiery. From the death of this man, the country was again torn by civil wars, and was in this ſtate November 1788.

Shirauz has many fine moſques, the chief of which I have deſcribed, and a ſquare building, of a very large ſize, [366] formerly a college of conſiderable note, where the arts and ſciences were taught, but it is now decaying very faſt, and has only a few prieſts and religious men reſiding in it. There are places here diſtinguiſhed by the name of Zoòr Khàna, the houſe of ſtrength, or exerciſe, to which the Perſians reſort for the ſake of exerciſing them⯑ſelves. Theſe houſes conſiſt of one room, with the floor ſunk about two feet below the ſurface of the earth, and the light and air are admitted to the apartment by means of ſeveral ſmall apertures, perforated in the dome. In the centre is a large ſquare terrace, or platform of earth, well beaten down, ſmooth and even; and on each ſide are ſmall alcoves, raiſed about two feet above the platform, where the muſicians and ſpectators are ſeated. When all the competitors are aſſembled, which is on every Friday morning, at day-break, they immediately ſtrip themſelves to the waiſt, on which each man puts on a pair of thick woollen drawers, and takes in his hands two wooden clubs, about a foot and a half in length, and cut in the ſhape of a pear, theſe they reſt on each ſhoulder, and the muſic ſtriking up, they move them backward and forward, with great agility, ſtamp⯑ing with their feet at the ſame time, and ſtraining every nerve, till they produce a very profuſe perſpiration. After continuing this exerciſe about half an hour, the maſter of the houſe, who is always one of them, and is diſtinguiſhed by the appellation of Pehlwaùn, or wreſtler, makes a ſignal, on which they all leave off, quit their clubs, and, joining hands in a circle, begin to move [367] their feet very briſkly, in time with the muſic, which is all the time playing a lively tune: having continued this for a conſiderable time, they commence wreſtling; but, before this trial of ſkill begins, the maſter of the houſe addreſſes the company in a ſet ſpeech, in which he tells the candidates, that, as they are all met in good fellowſhip, ſo ought they to depart; and that, in the conteſt they are about entering into, they ſhould have no malice, or ill-will in their hearts, it being only an honourable emula⯑tion, and trial of ſtrength, in which they are going to exert themſelves, and not a contentious brawl; he there⯑fore cautions them to proceed in good humour, and concord. This ſpeech is loudly applauded, and the wreſtling begins. The maſter of the houſe is always the challenger, and, being accuſtomed to the exerciſe, is generally the conqueror, by throwing each of the com⯑pany two or three times ſucceſſively. The ſpectators each pay a Shahee, equal to three-pence Engliſh, for which they are refreſhed with a calean, that is, a pipe of tobacco, and coffee. This mode of exerciſe muſt con⯑tribute to health, and add ſtrength and manly appearance to the frame, and bears ſome reſemblance to the gym⯑naſtic exerciſes of the ancients.