SPEECH of COL. COBB.
Head-Mingo of the Choctaws, east of the Mississippi, in reply to the Agent of the United States.
BROTHER: We have heard your talk as from the lips of our father, the great White Chief at Washington, and my people have called on me to speak to you. The Red man has no books, and when he wishes to make known his views, like his fathers before him, he speaks it from his mouth. He is afraid of writing. When he speaks, he knows what he says; the Great Spirit hears him. Writing is the invention of the pale faces; it gives birth to error and to feuds. The Great Spirit talks�we hear him in the thunder�in the rushing winds and the mighty waters�but he never writes.
Brother: When you were young we were strong; we fought by your side; but our arms are now broken. You have grown large. My people have become small.
Brother: My voice is weak; you can scarcely hear me; it is not the shout of a warrior, but the wail of an infant. I have lost it in mourning over the misfortunes of my people. These are their graves, and in those aged pines you hear the ghosts of the departed. Their ashes are here, and we have been left to protect them. Our warriors are nearly all gone to the far country west; but here are our dead. Shall we go, too, and give their bones to the wolves?
Brother: Two sleeps have passed since we heard your talk. We have thought upon it. You ask us to leave our country, and tell us it is our Father's wish. We would not desire to displease our Father. We respect him, and you his child. But the Choctaw always thinks. We want time to answer.
Brother: Our hearts are full. Twelve winters ago our chiefs sold our country. Every warrior that you see here was opposed to the treaty. If the dead could have been counted, it would never have been made; but alas! though they stood around, they could not be seen nor heard. Their tears came in the rain-drops and their voices in the wailing wind, but the pale faces knew it not, and our land was taken away.
Brother: We do not now complain. The Choctaw suffers, but he never weeps. You have the strong arm and we cannot resist. But the pale-face worships the Great Spirit. So does the Red man. The Great Spirit loves truth. When you took our country, you promised us land. There is your promise in the book. Twelve times have the trees dropped their leaves, and yet we have received no land. Our houses have been taken from us. The white man's plough turns up the bones of our fathers. We dare not kindle our fires; and yet you said we might remain and you would give us land.
Brother: Is this truth? But we believe now that our Great Father knows our condition�he will listen to us. We are as mourning orphans in our country; but our Father will take us by the hand. When he fulfills his promise, we will answer his talk. He means well. We know it. But we cannot think now. Grief has made children of us. When our business is settled we shall be men again, and talk to our Great Father about what he has proposed.
Brother: You stand in the moccasins of a great Chief; you speak the words of a mighty nation, and your talk was long. My people are small; their shadow scarcely reaches to your knee; they are scattered and gone; when I shout I hear my voice in the depths of the woods, but no answering shout comes back. My words, therefore, are few. I have nothing more to say, but to tell what I have said to the tall Chief of the pale faces, whose brother* stands by your side.
The celebrated chief, Puk-sha-nubbee, was famous as a warrior and as an orator. In his life time his influence, though circumscribed formally by district lines, was supreme over the nation. Even the Six Towns, Okla-hum-na-le, near where Garlandsville, in Jasper county, now stands,�the most warlike, rebellious and incorrigible part of the nation ever since the time of their famous chief, Red Shoes�never disputed the counsel of Puk-sha-nubbee.
On his demise, Pushmattaha rose to power. He was a self-made man, of obscure family, who first became famous as a successful hunter. It was then the custom of the Choctaws to go in squads or in parties, to the hunting grounds on the Ouaehitta, Red river and Arkansas, where they often came in collision with the hunters of other tribes. In these expeditions Pushmattaha acquired great renown, bringing home with him more scalps than any other warrior. In a foray against the Creeks he was eminently successful, and thus he rose to the highest place in his district, in spite of his poverty. He was a man of imposing presence, with a sonorous voice and a graceful gesture. He was a proud plebian, who boasted no patrician ancestry. When asked about his parentage by an agent of the United States, he haughtily answered, "Pushmattaha has no father and no mother. The lightning struck a big oak tree and Pushmattaha leaped out of it a warrior just as he now stands." How he joined Gen. Claiborne in his campaign against the Creeks, in 1813, and with what vigor and fidelity he served, has been referred to in the preceding pages, and is detailed in the Life of Gen. Dale. While on this service, the chief, for some rudeness, struck a soldier with his sword. The General pointed out to him the impropriety of the act, and inquired his reasons for such violence. He explained the indignity and said : "Being only a private I struck him with the flat of my sword, but had it been you, General, I should have used the edge."
The chief, like many other great men, had a weakness for liquor, and indulged too frequently. On one occasion he saw a soldier tied to a post. Inquiring the cause he was told that the man had appeared in the ranks intoxicated. "Is that all?" said Pushmattaha, and he immediately untied the prisoner, remarking very coolly, "many great warriors get drunk."
He had two wives, and his defense of polygamy was about the best that-has been made. Every woman is entitled to a husband. Nomadic tribes, like the Choctaws, are subject to frequent wars, and lose many of their males, and the females predominate. Therefore, if men are only allowed one wife many women would go without husbands, and their proscriptive right would be annulled.
In 1824, with a delegation of his people he visited Washington. LaFayette was then the guest of the Republic. The Choctaws waited upon him, and Pushmattaha delivered an address rarely surpassed in pathos and grandeur. The venerable Frenchman, and all who heard it, were deeply impressed. This was his last speech. The voice of his father was then calling him to the spirit land. His parting words to LaFayette were: "We heard of you in our distant villages. We longed to see you. We have come. We have taken you by the hand. For the last time we look on the face of the great warrior whose fathers were the friends of our fathers. We go. 'Tis the last time we shall meet. We shall both soon be in the land of shadows."
In a few days he was seized with pneumonia which speedily ran its course. When he felt that his end was near, he had himself arrayed in his uniform of an American general, with his ornaments and his war paint. Gen. Jackson called frequently to see him, and asked his last wishes.
"When I am dead, fire the big guns over me," were the last words of Pushmattaha.
He was buried, with military honors, in the Congressional graveyard, where his tomb may yet be seen.
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