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1831 - December - George W. Harkins to the American People
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George W. Harkins to the American People
It is with considerable diffidence that
I attempt to address the American people, knowing and feeling sensibly
my incompetency; and believing that your highly and well improved
minds would not be well entertained by the address of a Choctaw. But
having determined to emigrate west of the Mississippi river this fall,
I have thought proper in bidding you farewell to make a few remarks
expressive of my views, and the feelings that actuate me on the
subject of our removal. Believing that our all is at stake and
knowing that you readily sympathize with the distressed of every
country, I confidently throw myself upon your indulgence and ask you
to listen patiently. I do not arrogate to myself the prerogative of
deciding upon the expediency of the late treaty, yet I feel bound as a
Choctaw, to give a distinct expression of my feelings on that
interesting, (and to the Choctaws), all important subject. We were
hedged in by two evils, and we chose that which we thought the least.
Yet we could not recognize the right that the state of Mississippi had
assumed, to legislate for us.—Although the legislature of the state
were qualified to make laws for their own citizens, that did not
qualify them to become law makers to a people that were so dissimilar
in manners and customs as the Choctaws are to the Mississippians.
Admitting that they understood the people, could they remove that
mountain of prejudice that has ever obstructed the streams of justice,
and prevent their salutary influence from reaching my devoted
countrymen. We as Choctaws rather chose to suffer and be free, than
live under the degrading influence of laws, which our voice could not be
heard in their formation.
Much as the state of Mississippi has
wronged us, I cannot find in my heart any other sentiment than an
ardent wish for her prosperity and happiness.
I could cheerfully hope, that those of
another age and generation may not feel the effects of those
oppressive measures that have been so illiberally dealt out to us; and
that peace and happiness may be their reward. Amid the gloom and
horrors of the present separation, we are cheered with a hope that ere
long we shall reach our destined land, and that nothing short of the
basest acts of treachery will ever be able to wrest it from us, and
that we may live free. Although your ancestors won freedom on the
field of danger and glory, our ancestors owned it as their birthright,
and we have had to purchase it from you as the vilest slaves buy their
freedom.
Yet it is said that our present
movements are our own voluntary acts—such is not the case. We found
ourselves like a benighted stranger, following false guides, until he
was surrounded on every side, with fire and water. The fire was
certain destruction, and a feeble hope was left him of escaping by
water. A distant view of the opposite shore encourages the hope; to
remain would be inevitable annihilation. Who would hesitate, or who
would say that his plunging into the water was his own voluntary act?
Painful in the extreme is the mandate of our expulsion. We regret
that it should proceed from the mouth of our professed friend, for
whom our blood was co-mingled with that of his bravest warriors, on
the field of danger and death.
But such is the instability of
professions. The man who said that he would plant a stake and draw a
line around us, that never should be passed, was the first to say he
could not guard the lines, and drew up the stake and wiped out all
traces of the line. I will not conceal from you my fears, that the
present grounds may be removed. I have my foreboding; who of us can
tell after witnessing what has already been done, what the next force
may be. I ask you in the name of justice, for repose for myself and
for my injured people. Let us alone—we will not harm you, we want
rest. We hope, in the name of justice, that another outrage may never
be committed against us, and that we may for the future be cared for
as children, and not driven about as beasts, which are benefited by a
change of pasture.
Taking an example from the American
government, and knowing the happiness which its citizens enjoy under
the influence of mild republican institutions, it is the intention of
our countrymen to form a government assimilated to that of our white
brethren in the United States, as nearly as their condition will
permit. We know that in order to protect the rights and secure the
liberties of the people, no government approximates so nearly to
perfection as the one to which we have alluded. As east of the
Mississippi we have been friends, so west we will cherish the same
feelings with additional fervour; and although we may be removed to
the desert, still we shall look with fond regard, upon those who have
promised us their protection. Let that feeling be reciprocated.
Friends, my attachment to my native
land was strong—that cord is now broken; and we must go forth as
wanderers in a strange land! I must go—Let me entreat you to regard
us with feelings of kindness, and when the hand of oppression is
stretched against us, let me hope that a warning voice may be heard
from every part of the United States, filling the mountains and valleys
will echo, and say stop, you have no power, we are the sovereign
people, and our friends shall no more be disturbed. We ask you for
nothing, that is incompatible with your other duties.
We go forth sorrowful, knowing that
wrong has been done. Will you extend to us your sympathizing regards
until all traces of disagreeable oppositions are obliterated, and we
again shall have confidence in the professions of our white brethren.
Here is the land of our progenitors, and here are their bones; they
left them as a sacred deposit, and we have been compelled to venerate
its trust; it dear to us, yet we cannot stay, my people is dear to
me, with them I must go. Could I stay and forget them and leave them
to struggle alone, unaided, unfriended, and forgotten, by our great
father? I should then be unworthy the name of a Choctaw, and be a
disgrace to my blood. I must go with them; my destiny is cast among
the Choctaw people. If they suffer, so will I; if they prosper, then
will I rejoice. Let me again ask you to regard us with feelings of
kindness. Yours , with respect, GEORGE W. HARKINS.
Source: Niles’ Register, February 25,
1832, 41:480.
Note: Harkins’ letter was reprinted from
a paper in Natchez, Mississippi. Preceding it was a prefatory
statement from that paper, titled “The Choctaw’s Lament,” as follows:
“In our paper today,
will be found an address to the American people, by George W. Harkins,
the present chief of the Choctaw nation. Capt. Harkins, is the
nephew, and successor in office of Greenwood Laflour [sic]; and is now
on his way with a large body of people, to their new residence in the
west. The address was hastily written with a pencil, on board of the
steam boat Huron, the day before his arrival at our landing. The time
was so short as to afford Capt. Harkins no opportunity to send us a
revised sheet.
“To the speculators and land jobbers,
whose grasping avarice force this people from their homes and the
graves of their forefathers, the language of this address will be
unintelligible; but there are others, who, we presume, are not
entirely devoid of shame, and to whom some allusion is made, who will
feel the full force of its mild, but pointed rebuke.”
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