George Catlin

The Author arrives in Paris—Victoria Hotel—Mr. Melody and his Indians arrive—Doctor missing, and found on the top of the hotel—Alarm of servants—First drive in Paris—Visit to Mr. King, the American ambassador—French chickabobboo—M. Vattemare—Indians visit the HÔtel de Ville—PrÊfet de police—Magnificent salons—The “big looking-glasses”—The PrÊfet’s lady—Refreshments and chickabobboo—Speech of the War-chief—Reply of the PrÊfet—Salle Valentino taken for the exhibition—Daniel arrives with the Collection from London—Indians visit the King in the palace of the Tuileries—Royal personages—Conversation—War-chief presents the calumet—His speech to the King—Eagle-dance—War-dance—Little Wolf presents his tomahawk and whip to the King—His speech—Refreshments and “Queen’s chickabobboo”—Drinking the King’s and Queen’s health, and health of the Count de Paris—“Vive le Roi”—Jim’s opinion of the King—An Indian’s idea of descents—Presents in money from the King—Mode of dividing it—A drive—Ladies leading dogs with strings—The number counted in one drive—The Indians’ surprise—An entry for Jim’s book—Jim laments the loss of the Times newspaper and Punch—He takes Galignani’s Messenger—Indians dine at W. Costar’s—The Doctor’s compliment to a lady’s fine voice—Indians visit the Royal Academy of Sciences—Curious reception—M. Arago—Indians’ suspicions and alarms—Jim’s remarkable speech—Opening of the exhibition in Salle Valentino—Great excitement—Speech of the War-chief—Shaking hands—Public opinion of the Author’s Collection.

Having long before resolved to take my collection to Paris before returning it to my own country, and the Indians being ambitious to see the King of the French, it was mutually agreed that my whole collection should be opened in Paris, and that their dances and other amusements should for a short time be given in it, as they had been given in London.

Under this arrangement, with my wife and my four dear little children, I repaired to Paris as soon as possible, leaving Daniel to ship over and accompany my collection, whilst Mr. Melody conducted his party of Indians.

In crossing the Channel, and receding from its shores, as I was seated on the deck of a steamer, I looked back, and, having for the first time nothing else to do, and a little time to reflect upon England, and what I had seen of it in five years, I took out of my pocket my little note-book, where I had entered, not what England is, and what she does (and which all the world knows), but the points in which her modes are different from those in my own country. I would have a few leisure hours to run over these curious entries, and time to reflect upon them, as we sailed along, and I began to read thus:—

“London, 1844. The essential Differences between England and the United States.

“The United States much the largest; but England is a great deal older.

“New-Yorkers cross the streets diagonally; the Londoners cross them at right angles.

“In England the odd pennies are wrapped in a paper, and handed back with ‘I thank you, Sir.’

“Streets in London have tops and bottoms; in America they have upper and lower ends.

“In England a man’s wife is ‘very bad;’ in America, ’very ill;' and in France, ‘bien malade.’

“Americans ’turn to the right as the law directs;' the English turn to the left.

“English mutton and babies are much the fattest.

“Gooseberries in England much the largest, but not so sweet.

“Pigs in the American cities are seen promenading in the streets; in London, only seen hanging by their hind legs.

“In England men are ‘knocked up;’ in America they are ‘knocked down.’

“‘Top-coats’ are very frequent in England, in America nothing is known higher than an ‘over-coat.’

“In the United States a man is ’smart;' in England he is ‘clever.’

“English ladies are more luscious, but not quite so——”

Just when I had read thus far, the steward tapped me on the shoulder and told me that “I was wanted below immediately, for my lady was very ill.” I closed my book and ran below, where I found my poor wife and little family all dreadfully sick. I waited on them a while and got sea-sick myself. My musings on England and America were thus broken off; and from the time that we launched forth amidst the clatter upon a French wharf, I had as much as I could do to keep my little children and my luggage together, and all recollections of England and my native country vanished in the confusion and din that was around me in the new world we were entering upon. Custom-houses and railways and diligences have been a thousand times described, and I need say nothing of them, except that we got through them all, and into the Victoria Hotel, in Paris, where we found rest, fine beds, kind attentions, and enough to eat.

A few days after my arrival in Paris, Mr. Melody made his appearance with his party of Ioways, for whom apartments were prepared in the same hotel, and after much fatigue and vexation the immense hall in Rue St. HonorÉ (Salle Valentino) was engaged as the place for their future operations. Daniel in the mean time was moving up with the Indian collection of eight tons weight, and in a few days all parties were on the ground, though there was to be some delay in arranging the numerous collection, and in getting the Indians introduced to the King, which was the first object. They had entered the city at a late hour at night, and for several days it had been impossible to attend to the necessary arrangements for driving them about; and they became excessively impatient to be on wheels again, to get a glimpse of the strange and beautiful things which they knew were about them. In the mean time they were taking all the amusement to themselves that they could get, by looking out of the windows; and their red and crested heads in Paris soon drew a crowd together in the streets, and thousands of heads protruding from the windows and house-tops. The Doctor soon found his way to the roof, and from that regaled his eyes, at an early hour, with a bird’s-eye view of the boundless mystery and confusion of chimneys and house-tops and domes and spires that were around him.

The servants in the house were at first alarmed, and the good landlady smiled at their unexpected appearance; and she roared with laughter when she was informed that the beds were all to be removed from their rooms, that they spread their own robes, and, in preference, slept upon the floor. All in the house, however, got attached to them in a few days, and all went pleasantly on.

The first airing they took in Paris was in an omnibus with four, as they had been driven in London; but, to the old Doctor’s exceeding chagrin, there was no seat for him to take outside by the side of the driver. He was easily reconciled however to his seat with the rest, and they thus soon had a glance at a number of the principal streets of the city, and were landed at the American Embassy, to pay their first respects to Mr. King, at that time the minister to France. They were received by Mr. King and his niece with great kindness; and after a little conversation, through the interpreter, Mr. King invited them to the table, loaded with cakes and fruit, and offered them a glass of wine, proposing their health, and at the same time telling them that, though he was opposed to encouraging Indians to drink, yet he was quite sure that a glass or two of the vin rouge of the French would not hurt them. The colour of it seemed to cause them to hesitate a moment, while they were casting their eyes around upon me. They understood the nod of my head, and, hearing me pronounce it chickabobboo, took the hint and drank it off with great pleasure. Mr. Melody here assured Mr. King of the temperate habits of these people; and I explained to the party the origin and meaning of chickabobboo, which pleased them all very much. They partook of a second glass, and also of the cakes and fruit, and took leave, the War-chief having thanked Mr. King and his niece for their kindness, and having expressed his great pleasure at meeting so kind an American gentleman so far from home. The Indians were now in their omnibus again, and Mr. Melody and myself in our carriage, with a kind friend, Mons. A. Vattemare, who had obtained for the Indians an invitation to visit the Hotel de Ville, where we were now to drive. In this drive from St. Germain we recrossed the Seine by Pont Neuf, and had a fine view of all the bridges, and the palace of the Tuileries, and the Louvre. The omnibus stopped a moment on the middle of the bridge, and they were much excited by the view. A few minutes more brought us in front of the Hotel de Ville, where several thousands of people were assembled; it having been heard in the streets, in all probability, from the servants or police, that a party of savages were to be there at that hour.

There was a great outcry when they landed and entered the hall, and the crowd was sure not to diminish whilst they were within.

We were all presented to His Excellency the PrÊfet de Police by my friend Mons. Vattemare, and received with great kindness, and conducted through all the principal apartments of that noble edifice, which are finished and furnished in the most sumptuous style, and in richness of effect surpassing even the most splendid halls of the palaces of the Tuileries or St. Cloud. The gorgeousness of the carpets on which they stood, and the tapestry that was around them, and the incredible size of the mirrors that were reflecting them in a hundred directions, were subjects till then entirely new to them; and they seemed completely amazed at the splendour with which they were surrounded. From these splendid salons we were conducted into the salle À manger, and opportunely where the table was spread and the plates laid for a grand banquet. This was a lucky occurrence, affording us, as well as the Indians, an opportunity of seeing the richness of the plate upon which those elegant affairs are served up, and which but a choice few can ever behold.

Retiring from and through this suite of splendid salons, we entered an antechamber, where we were presented to the elegant lady of the PrÊfet and several of their friends, who brought us to a table loaded with fruit and cakes and other refreshments, and wine of several sorts and the best in quality. The corks of several bottles of champagne were drawn, and, as the sparkling wine was running, each one smiled as he whispered the word chickabobboo. The PrÊfet drank their health in a glass of the “Queen’s chickabobboo” as they called it, and then, with his own hand, presented each a handsome silver medal, and also one to Mr. Melody and myself.

The War-chief by this time felt called upon for some acknowledgment on their part for this kind treatment, and, advancing to the PrÊfet, shook hands with him, and addressed him thus:—

“My friend and father, your kindness to us this day makes our hearts glad, and we thank you for it. We are strangers here, and poor ignorant children from the wilderness. We came here with heavy hearts, having just buried one of our warriors, and your kindness has driven away our sorrow. (‘How, how, how!’)

“My father, the splendour of the rooms, and other things you have just shown us, blind our eyes with their brightness, and we now see that white men can do anything.

“My father, we were astonished at what we saw in London, where we have been, but we think your village is much the most beautiful. We thank the Great Spirit, who has opened your great house to us to-day, and also your lady, who has been kind to us.

“My father, I have done.”

At the close of his speech the PrÊfet assured him of his kindly feelings towards them, and his anxiety for their welfare; and after a general shake of hands we took leave, and descended to the street, and, passing through a dense crowd, took our carriages and drove back to our hotel. Thus ended their first day’s drive and visits in Paris, furnishing them with a rich fund for a talk after their dinner and chickabobboo, which was to be vin rouge in Paris, instead of ale, which they had been in the habit of drinking in England.

Nothing could exceed the exhilarated flow of spirits in which they returned, and the admiration they were expressing of the beauty of the city, and the splendour of the rooms they had been in. They were decided that they should be pleased with Paris; and as Palaces, Kings, and Queens were yet before them, they seemed to be perfectly happy. During their curious remarks on what they had seen, they already were saying that they had seen many thousands of people, and were glad that they saw nobody in rags or begging. They thought the French people all had enough to eat, and that, they said, was a great pleasure to them; for it made their hearts sore, when riding out, if they saw poor people, who had nothing to eat, as they had seen in some places.

The Indians decided that the houses of Paris were much more beautiful than they had seen in any place; and they thought, from their cheerful looks, that either the people had their debts more paid up than the English people, or else that they had not so much money as to distress their looks for fear of losing it. We were all pleased with the appearance of Paris, and compelled to feel cheerful from the buoyant feelings that were displayed all around us. Like the Indians, I was pleased with the neat and cleanly appearance of the poorest in the streets, and surprised at the beauty and elegance of their houses, which want, in my estimation, but one more embellishment, which it would be quite easy to give, to render the effect of their streets more beautiful than words can describe. That would be, to paint their window-blinds green, which, by contrast, would make the walls appear more white and clean, and break with pleasing variety the white monotony that now prevails throughout.

This first day’s drive about the city had created a prodigious excitement and curiosity where they had gone, and given to the Indians just peep enough, amidst the beauties of Paris, to create a restlessness on both sides for a more familiar acquaintance, and which it had been thought most prudent to defer until they had made their visit to the Palace, for which their application had been made to the King by the American minister, and to which we were daily expecting a reply. In the mean time, Mr. Melody, and Jeffrey, and the Indians kept quiet, entertaining an occasional party of some American friends, or distinguished, personages, who were sending in their cards, and seeking interviews with them. During all this delay they had enough to amuse them, by talking of what they had already seen, and what they expected they were going to see, and cleaning and preparing their dresses for the great occasion. I, in the mean time, with my man Daniel, and others, was arranging my collection on the walls of the Salle Valentino; and, by the kind and friendly aid of Mons. Vattemare, obtaining my licence from the authorities, and also conforming to the other numerous and vexatious forms and ceremonies to be gone through before the opening of my exhibition to public view.

The Minister of the Interior had kindly granted an order for the admission of my whole collection into the kingdom, by my paying merely a nominal duty, but there were still forms and delays to submit to in the customs, which were tedious and vexatious, but by the aid of my above-mentioned good friend, they had all been overcome; and my collection was now nearly ready for the public examination, when I received a letter from the American minister, informing me, that “on a certain day, and at a certain hour, His Majesty would see Mr. Catlin and Mr. Melody, with the Ioway Indians, in the Palace of the Tuileries.” There was great rejoicing amongst the good fellows when they heard this welcome letter read, and several of them embraced me in their arms, as if I had been the sole cause of it. Their doubts were now at an end: it was certain that they should see the King of France, which, they said, “would be far more satisfactory, and a greater honour, than to have seen the Queen of England.” Whatever the poor fellows thought, such was their mode of exultation. “The Ojibbeways,” they said, “were subjects of the Queen, but we will be subjects of Louis Philippe.”

They had yet a few days to prepare, and even without their drives or company they were contented, as the time passed away, and they were preparing for the interview. On the morning of the day for their reception, the long stem of a beautiful pipe had been painted a bright blue, and ornamented with blue ribbons, emblematical of peace, to be presented by the chief to the King. Every article of dress and ornament had been put in readiness; and, as the hour approached, each one came out from his toilet, in a full blaze of colour of various tints, all with their wampum and medals on, with their necklaces of grizly bears’ claws, their shields, and bows, and quivers, their lances, and war clubs, and tomahawks, and scalping knives. In this way, in full dress, with their painted buffalo robes wrapped around them, they stepped into the several carriages prepared for them, and all were wheeled into the Place Carousel, and put down at the entrance to the Palace. We were met on the steps by half a dozen huge and splendid looking porters, in flaming scarlet livery and powdered wigs, who conducted us in, and being met by one of the King’s aides-de-camp, we were conducted by him into His Majesty’s presence, in the reception hall of the Tuileries.

The royal party were advancing towards us in the hall, and as we met them, Mr. Melody and myself were presented; and I then introduced the party, each one in person, according to his rank or standing, as the King desired. A sort of conversazione took place there, which lasted for half an hour or more, in which I was called upon to explain their weapons, costumes, &c., and which seemed to afford great amusement to the royal personages assembled around and amongst us, who were—their Majesties the King and the Queen, the Duchess of Orleans and Count de Paris, the Princess Adelaide, the Prince and Princess de Joinville, the Duke and Duchess d’Aumale, and his Royal Highness the Duke de Brabant.

His Majesty in the most free and familiar manner (which showed that he had been accustomed to the modes and feelings of Indians) conversed with the chiefs, and said to Jeffrey, “Tell these good fellows that I am glad to see them; that I have been in many of the wigwams of the Indians in America when I was a young man, and they treated me every where kindly, and I love them for it.—Tell them I was amongst the Senecas near Buffalo, and the Oneidas—that I slept in the wigwams of the chiefs—that I was amongst the Shawnees and Delawares on the Ohio; and also amongst the Cherokees and Creeks in Georgia and Tennessee, and saw many other tribes as I descended the Ohio river the whole length, and also the Mississippi to New Orleans, in a small boat, more than fifty years ago.” This made the Indians stare, and the women, by a custom of their country, placed their hands over their mouths, as they issued groans of surprise.

“Tell them also, Jeffrey, that I am pleased to see their wives and little children they have with them here, and glad also to show them my family, who are now nearly all around me. Tell them, Jeffrey, that this is the Queen; this lady is my sister; these are two of my sons, with their wives; and these little lads [the Count de Paris and the Duc de Brabant] are my grandsons; this one, if he lives, will be King of the Belgians, and that one King of the French.”

The King then took from his pocket two large gold medals with his own portrait in relief on one side of them, and told me he wished to present them to the two chiefs with his own hand, and wished Jeffrey to explain to them, that after presenting them in that way, he wished them to hand them back to him that he might have a proper inscription engraved on them, when he would return them, and silver medals of equal size to each of the others, with their names engraved upon them. After the medals were thus presented and returned, the War-chief took out from under his robe the beautiful pipe which he had prepared, and advancing towards the King, and holding it with both hands, bent forward and laid it down at his Majesty’s feet as a present. Having done so he reached down, and taking it up, placed it in his Majesty’s hand (Plate No. 15), and then, assuming his proud attitude of the orator, addressed their Majesties in these words:—

When the War-chief had finished his speech, the King told Jeffrey to say that he felt very great pleasure in having seen them, and he hoped that the Great Spirit would guide them safe home to their country, to their wives and little children.

The King and Royal Family then took leave; and as they were departing, some one of them being attracted to the Indian drum which Jeffrey had brought in his hand, and had left upon the floor in another part of the room, and inquiring what it was, was told that it was their drum which they had brought with them, supposing it possible they might be called upon to give a dance. This information overtook the King, and he said, “By all means; call the Queen:” and in a few moments the august assembly were all back to witness the dance, for which purpose all parties moved to the Salle du Bal. Their Majesties and the ladies were seated, and the Indians all seating themselves in the middle of the floor, commenced moderately singing and beating the drum, preparatory to the Eagle Dance, in which they were in a few moments engaged.

During this novel and exciting scene, her Majesty desired me to stand by the side of her to explain the meaning of all its features, which seemed to astonish and amuse her very much.

The Doctor led off first in the character (as he called it) of a soaring eagle, sounding his eagle whistle, which he carried in his left hand, with his fan of the eagle’s tail, while he was brandishing his lance in the other.

At the first pause he instantly stopped, and, in the attitude of an orator, made his boast of an instance where he killed an enemy in single combat, and took his scalp. The Little Wolf, and Wash-ka-mon-ya, and others, then sprang upon their feet, and sounding their chattering whistles,[38] and brandishing their polished weapons, gave an indescribable wildness and spirit to the scene. When the dance was finished, the Indians had the pleasure of receiving their Majesties’ applause, by the violent clapping of their hands, and afterwards by expressions of their pleasure and admiration, conveyed to them through the interpreter.

This was exceedingly gratifying to the poor fellows, who were now seated upon the floor to rest a moment previous to commencing with the war-dance, for which they were preparing their weapons, and in which the Little Wolf was to take the lead. For this, as the drum beat, he threw aside his buffalo robe and sprang upon the floor, brandishing his tomahawk and shield, and sounding the frightful war-whoop, which called his warriors up around him. Nothing could have been more thrilling or picturesque than the scene at that moment presented of this huge and terrible-looking warrior, frowning death and destruction on his brow, as he brandished the very weapons he had used in deadly combat, and, in his jumps and sudden starts, seemed threatening with instant use again! The floors and ceilings of the Palace shook with the weight of their steps, and its long halls echoed and vibrated the shrill-sounding notes of the war-whoop. (Plate No. 16.)

In the midst of this dance, the Little Wolf suddenly brandished his tomahawk over the heads of his comrades, and, ordering them to stop, advanced towards the King, and boasting in the most violent exclamations of the manner in which he had killed and scalped a Pawnee warrior, placed in his Majesty’s hands his tomahawk and the whip which was attached to his wrist, and then said,—

His Majesty deigned graciously to accept the arms thus presented, after having cordially shaken the hand of the Ioway brave.

Their Majesties and attendants then withdrew, taking leave of the Indians in the most gracious and condescending manner, expressing their thanks for the amusement they had afforded them, and their anxiety for their welfare, directing them to be shown into the various apartments of the palace, and then to be conducted to a table of wine and other refreshments prepared for them. We were now in charge of an officer of the household, who politely led us through the various magnificent halls of the Palace, explaining every thing as we passed, and at length introduced us into a room with a long table spread and groaning under its load of the luxuries of the season, and its abundance of the “Queen’s chickabobboo.” These were subjects that required no explanations; and all being seated, each one evinced his familiarity with them by the readiness with which he went to work. The healths of the King and the Queen were drank, and also of the Count de Paris, and the rest of the Royal family. The chickabobboo they pronounced “first-rate;” and another bottle being poured it was drank off, and we took our carriages, and, after a drive of an hour or so about the city, were landed again in our comparatively humble, but very comfortable, apartments.

The party returning from the Tuileries found their dinner coming up, and little was said until it was over, and they had drank their chickabobboo, and seated themselves upon their buffalo robes, which were spread upon the floor, and lighted the pipe. I have before said that the pipe is almost indispensable with Indians, where there is to be any exertion of the mind in private conversation or public speaking, and that generally but one pipe is used, even in a numerous company, each one drawing a few whiffs through it, and passing it on into the hands of his next neighbour.

In this manner they were now seated, and passing the pipe around as I came in, and took a seat with them. They were all quite merry at the moment by trying to sound the “Vive le Roi!” which I had taught them at the King’s table when they were drinking his Majesty’s health. It puzzled them very much, but the adept Jim took it directly, and as the rest found he had got it they seemed quite satisfied, thinking most probably that they could learn it at their pleasure.

“Well, Jim,” said I, “what do you think of the King, Louis Philippe?” He reached for the pipe, and taking a puff or two handed it to the Doctor, and rolling over on to his back, and drawing up his knees, said, “I think he is a great man and a very good man. I believe he is a much greater chief than the Queen of England, and that he governs his people much better, because we don’t see so many poor people in the streets—we think that his people all have enough to eat. His wigwam is very grand and very bright, and his chickabobboo the best that we have had. We did not see the King with his fine dress on, but as his servants all around him were beautifully dressed, like gentlemen, we know that the King and Queen must look very elegant when they are in full dress. We saw the King’s two sons, and he told us that his grandson was to be the King when he dies—now we don’t understand this!” It seemed that his teacher, Daniel, had overlooked the doctrine of descents during their close investigations of the statistics and politics of England, and the poor fellow was yet quite in the dark to know “how a grandson (a mere child) would be taken in case of the King’s death, instead of one of his sons, either of whom he said he thought would make a very good king if he would take a trip for a year or two, as his father did, on the Mississippi and Missouri, amongst the different tribes of Indians.” This was considered a pretty clever thing for Jim to say, and it raised a laugh amongst the Indians; he was encouraged to go on, and turned his conversation upon the gold and silver medals, with which he was very much pleased. They were delighted with the idea that the King’s portrait was on one side, and that he was to have their names engraved on the other; and they were not less delighted when I told them that the gentleman who had come in with me and was now sitting by my side, had come from the King to bear them some other token of his Majesty’s attachment to them. The object of his visit being thus made known to them, he turned out into the lap of the chief 500 francs to be divided according to their custom. This of course put a stop to conversations about descents and Palaces, &c., for the time, and all went to counting until it was divided into thirteen parcels, one of which for the interpreter. Jeffrey, however, very kindly surrendered his share, and insisted that they should divide it all amongst themselves. It was accordingly made into twelve parcels, each one, old and young, taking an equal share, according to the Indian mode of dividing in all the tribes I have visited.

The War-chief rose and addressed the young man who was commissioned to bear the present to them:—

The pipe was passed a few times around, with some further anecdotes of their visit to the palace, when the messenger arose and took leave of them. In counting the money, Jim had lost his attitude, so there was little more of the sentimental from him, as the conversation was running upon the King’s bounty, rather than his greatness, or the splendour of things they had seen during the day. From the liberal additions to their private purse while in Dublin, and by what they were now receiving, they were beginning to feel a little purse proud. Jim was talking of having a brick house to live in when he got home, and the Doctor of heading a war party to go against the Ojibbeways. The War-chief told him he had better pay his debts first, and that he had slain enough in his own tribe, without going amongst his enemies for the purpose. The Little Wolf was going to get money enough to buy thirty horses, and lead a war party against his old enemies, the Pawnees; but Mr. Melody reminded him that he was to go to war no more, as he had “buried the tomahawk in his Majesty’s hands.”

Thus musing and moralizing on the events of the day, I left them to their conversation and their pipe, to attend, myself, where my presence was necessary, in arranging my collection, and preparing my rooms for their exhibitions. In this I had a real task—a scene of vexation and delay that I should wish never to go through again, and of which a brief account may be of service to any one of my countrymen who may be going to Paris to open a public exhibition; at least, my hints will enable him, if he pays attention to them, to begin at the right time, and at the right end of what he has got to do, and to do it to the best advantage.

His first step is, for any exhibition whatever, to make his application to the Prefect of Police for his licence, which is in all cases doubtful, and in all cases also is sure to require two or three weeks for his petition to pass the slow routine of the various offices and hands which it must go through. If it be for any exhibition that can be construed into an interference with the twenty or thirty theatre licences, it may as well not be applied for or thought of, for they will shut it up if opened.

It is also necessary to arrange in time with the overseer of the poor, whether he is to take one-eighth or one-fifth of the receipts for the hospitals—for the hospice, as he is termed, is placed at the door of all exhibitions in Paris, who carries off one-eighth or one-fifth of the daily receipts every night. It is necessary also, if catalogues are to be sold in the rooms, to lodge one of them at least two weeks before the exhibition is to open in the hands of the Commissaire de Police, that it may pass through the office of the Prefect, and twenty other officers’ hands, to be read, and duly decided that there is nothing revolutionary in it; and then to sell them, or to give them away (all the same), it is necessary for the person who is to sell, and who alone can sell them, to apply personally to the Commissaire de Police, and make oath that he was born in France, to give his age and address, &c., &c., before he can take the part that is assigned him. It is then necessary, when the exhibition is announced, to wait until seven or eight guards and police, with muskets and bayonets fixed, enter and unbar the doors, and open them for the public’s admission. It is necessary to submit to their friendly care during every day of the exhibition, and to pay each one his wages at night, when they lock up the rooms and put out the lights. In all this, however, though expensive, there is one redeeming feature. These numbers of armed police, at their posts, in front of the door, and in the passage, as well as in the exhibition rooms, give respectability to its appearance, and preserve the strictest order and quiet amongst the company, and keep a constant and vigilant eye to the protection of property. During the time I was engaged in settling these tedious preliminaries, and getting my rooms prepared for their exhibition, the Indians were taking their daily rides, and getting a passing glimpse of most of the out-door scenes of Paris. They were admitting parties of distinguished visitors, who were calling upon them, and occasionally leaving them liberal presents, and passing their evenings upon their buffalo skins, handing around the never-tiring pipe, and talking about the King, and their medals, and curious things they had seen as they had been riding through the streets. The thing which as yet amused the Doctor the most was the great number of women they saw in the streets leading dogs with ribbons and strings. He said he thought they liked their dogs better than they did their little children. In London, he said he had seen some little dogs leading their masters, who were blind, and in Paris they began to think the first day they rode out that one half of the Paris women were blind, but that they had a great laugh when they found that their eyes were wide open, and that instead of their dogs leading them, they were leading their dogs. The Doctor seemed puzzled about the custom of the women leading so many dogs, and although he did not in any direct way censure them for doing it, it seemed to perplex him, and he would sit and smile and talk about it for hours together. He and Jim had, at first, supposed, after they found that the ladies were not blind, that they cooked and ate them, but they were soon corrected in this notion, and always after remained at a loss to know what they could do with them.

On one of their drives, the Doctor and Jim, supplied with a pencil and a piece of paper, had amused themselves by counting, from both sides of the omnibus, the number of women they passed, leading dogs in the street, and thus made some amusement with their list when they got home. They had been absent near an hour, and driving through many of the principal streets of the city, and their list stood thus:—

The poor fellows insisted on it that the above was a correct account, and Jim, in his droll way (but I have no doubt quite honestly), said that “It was not a very good day either.”

I was almost disposed to question the correctness of their estimate, until I took it into my head to make a similar one, in a walk I was one day taking, from the Place Madeleine, through a part of the Boulevard, Rue St. HonorÉ, and Rue Rivoli, and a turn in the garden of the Tuileries. I saw so many that I lost my reckoning, when I was actually not a vast way from the list they gave me as above, and quite able to believe that their record was near to the truth. While the amusement was going on about the ladies and the little dogs, Daniel, who had already seen many more of the sights of Paris than I had, told the Indians that there was a Dog Hospital and a Dog Market in Paris, both of them curious places, and well worth their seeing. This amused the Doctor and Jim very much. The Doctor did not care for the Dog Market, but the Hospital he must see. He thought the hospital must be a very necessary thing, as there were such vast numbers; and he thought it would be a good thing to have an hospital for their mistresses also. Jim thought more of the market, and must see it in a day or two, for it was about the time that they should give a feast of thanksgiving, and “a Dog Feast was always the most acceptable to the Great Spirit.” It was thus agreed all around, that they should make a visit in a few days to the Dog Market and the Dog Hospital.

Jim got Daniel to enter the above list in his book as a very interesting record, and ordered him to leave a blank space underneath it, in order to record any thing else they might learn about dogs while in Paris.

Poor Jim! he was at this time deeply lamenting the loss of the pleasure he had just commenced to draw from the ‘Times’ newspaper, for which he had become a subscriber, and his old and amusing friend ‘Punch,’ which Daniel had been in the habit of entertaining them with, and which he had been obliged to relinquish on leaving England. His friend Daniel, however, who was sure always to be by him, particularly at a late hour in the evenings, relieved him from his trouble by telling him that there was an English paper printed in Paris every day, ‘Galignani’s Messenger,’ which republished nearly all the murders, and rapes, and robberies, &c. from the ‘Times;’ and also, which would make it doubly interesting, those which were daily occurring in Paris. Jim was now built up again, and as he could already read a few words was the envied of all the party. He was learning with Daniel and Jeffrey a few words in French also, to which the others had not aspired; he, could say quite distinctly “vive le roi;” he knew that “bon jour” was “good morning,” or “how do do?” that “bon” was “good,” that “mauvais” was “bad,” and that “very sick” was “bien malade.” He requested Daniel to get Galignani’s paper daily for him, for which he and the Doctor had agreed to pay equal shares. He seemed now quite happy in the opinion that his prospects for civilization were again upon a proper footing, and the old Doctor, who profited equally by all of Daniel’s readings, was delighted to lend his purse to share in the expense. Daniel at this moment pulled the last number of Galignani out of his pocket, the first sight of which pleased them very much, and after reading several extracts of horrid murders, highway robberies, &c., from the ‘Times,’ he came across a little thing that amused them,—the great number and length of the names of the little Prince of Wales, which he read over thus:— (The author regrets very much that he took no memorandum of this, but refers the reader to the London papers for it.)

There was a hearty laugh by the whole troop when Daniel got through, but when Mr. Melody repeated the name of a poor fellow who used to dress deer skins for a living in the vicinity of St. Louis, they all laughed still more heartily, and Chippehola set in and laughed also. He had forgotten a part of this poor fellow’s name, but as far as he recollected of his sign board, it ran thus:—“Haunus, hubbard, lubbard, lamberd, lunk, vandunk, Peter, Jacobus, Lockamore, Lavendolph, dresses deer skins of all animals, and in all ways, alum dressed.”

Such was a part of the gossip of an evening, while my days were occupied in preparing my rooms for the admission of the public. During this delay, one of the gentlemen who visited the Indians most frequently, as his native countrymen, was Mr. W. Costar, formerly of New York, but now living in Paris, and whose kind lady invited the whole party to dine at her house.

The Indians had expressed the greatest pleasure at meeting this American gentleman in Paris, as if they claimed a sort of kindred to him, and met the invitation as one of great kindness, and the interview as one in which they were to feel much pleasure. They were particularly careful in dressing and preparing for it, and when ready, and the time had arrived, Mr. Melody and I accompanied them to this gentleman’s house, where a most sumptuous dinner was served, and besides his accomplished lady and lovely daughters, there were several ladies of distinction and of title, seated, to complete the honours that were to be paid to the Indians.

It was a matter of great surprise to all the fashionable guests who were present, that those rude people from the wilderness, used to take their meals from the ground, were so perfectly composed and so much at ease at the table, and managed so well with the knife and fork, and even so gracefully smiled over their glasses of wine when a lady or a gentleman proposed the health of any one. Just before we had finished our dessert, a number of fashionable ladies, the Countess of L——, the Baron and Baroness de G——, and several others who had begun to assemble for the evening soirÉe, arrived, and were ushered into the dining room, where they had the curiosity of seeing the Indians as they were seated in all their trinkets and ranged around the table; and from the lips of all escaped the instant exclamations of, “Bless me! what a fine and noble-looking set of men they are! How much at ease they seem! Why, those are polished gentlemen,” &c. &c.

From the dinner table they were invited to the salon, where a large party had gathered, who were delighted with the wild and picturesque appearance of the “Peaux Rouges.”

The Indians saw some fine dancing and waltzing, and heard some splendid playing on the piano, and singing.

The Doctor’s complete fascination by the playing and singing of a beautiful young lady was so conspicuous as to become the principal event of the evening, and after he had stood and smiled upon her in profound admiration during her fourth or fifth song, he amused many of the party, and shocked others, by the extraordinary and unexpected, though perfectly just remark, that “her voice was as soft and sweet as that of a wolf!”

This startling compliment I must leave for the estimates of the world, mentioning only the two facts, that the Doctor’s totem (or arms) is the wolf; and that in my travels in the prairies of America I have often thought that the soft, and plaintive, and silvery tones of the howling prairie wolf oftentimes surpassed in sweetness the powers of the human voice.

M. Vattemare, in his kind endeavours to promote the interest of the Indians, and that of myself, had obtained an invitation from the Members of the Royal Academy of Sciences for the Indians to visit them at one of their sittings, which was a great honour; but the poor Indians left Paris without ever having been able to learn how or in what way that honour arrived. Messrs. Melody and Vattemare and myself accompanied the whole party to their rooms, and, being ushered and squeezed and pushed into a dense crowd of gentlemen, all standing, and where the Indians were not even offered a seat, they were gazed and scowled at, their heads and arms felt, their looks and capacities criticised like those of wild beasts, without being asked a question, or thanked for the kindness of coming, and where they were offered not even a glass of cold water. The Indians and ourselves were thus eyed and elbowed about in this crowd for half an hour, from which we were all glad to escape, deciding that it was entirely too scientific for us, and a style of politeness that we were not perhaps sufficiently acquainted with duly to appreciate.

The various conjectures about the objects of this visit were raised after we got home, and they were as curious as they were numerous. The Indians had reflected upon it with evident surprise, and repeatedly inquired of M. Vattemare and myself for what purpose we had taken them there. M. Vattemare told them that these were the greatest scientific men of the kingdom. This they did not understand, and he then, to explain, said they were the great medicine men, the learned doctors, &c. They then took the hint a little better, and decided alarm with it, for they said they recollected to have seen in some of their faces, while examining their heads and arms, decided expressions of anxiety to dissect their limbs and bones, which they now felt quite sure would be the case if any of them should die while in Paris. The War-chief, who seldom had much to say while speaking of the events of the day, very gravely observed on this occasion, that “he had been decidedly displeased, and the chief also, but it would be best to say no more about it, though if any of the party got sick, to take great care what physicians were called to visit them.”

M. Vattemare, in his kind interest for all parties, here exerted his influence to a little further degree, and persuaded the Indians to believe that those distinguished men, the great philosopher M. Arago and others, who were present, would be their warmest friends, but that with these transcendently great and wise men, their minds and all their time were so engrossed with their profound studies, that they had no time or desire to practise politeness; that they were the eyes which the public used, to look deep into and through all things strange or new that came to Paris; and that the public were after that, polite and civil, in proportion as those learned men should decide that they ought or ought not to be.

Jim here took a whiff or two on his pipe, and, turning over on his back and drawing up his knees and clasping his hands across his stomach (Plate No. 17), said—

This finished the conversation for the present about the learned society, though the impression was one of a most unfavourable kind on their minds, and was a long time in wearing away.

The time had at length arrived for the opening of my collection and the commencement of the illustrations of the Indians. It had been for some days announced, and the hour had approached. The visitors were admitted into the rooms where my numerous collection of 600 paintings and some thousands of articles of Indian manufactures were subjects of new and curious interest to examine until the audience were mostly assembled, when, at a signal, the Indians all entered the room from an adjoining apartment, advancing to and mounting the platform, in Indian file, in full dress and paint, and armed and equipped as if for a battle-field. They sounded the war-whoop as they came in, and nothing could exceed the thrill of excitement that ran through the crowd in every part of the Hall. There was a rush to see who should get nearest to the platform, and be enabled most closely to scan “les Sauvages horribles,” “les Peaux Rouges,” ou “les nouvelles Diables À Paris.”

The chief led the party as they entered the room, and, having ascended the platform, erected the flag of his tribe in the centre, and in a moment the party were all seated around it, and lighting their pipe to take a smoke, whilst I was introducing them and their wives to the audience. This having been done in as brief a time as possible, they finished their pipe and commenced their amusements in Paris by giving the discovery-dance. This curious mode forms a part and the commencement of the war-dance, and is generally led off by one of the War-chiefs, who dances forward alone, pretending to be skulking and hunting for the track of his enemy, and when he discovers it he beckons on his warriors, who steal into the dance behind him, and follow him up as he advances, and pretends at length to discover the enemy in the distance, ordering all to be ready for the attack. The Doctor was the one who opened the bal on this occasion, and it was a proud and important moment for him: not that the fate of nations unborn, or the success of their enterprise, depended upon the event, but what to him was perhaps as high an incentive—that his standing with the ladies of Paris would probably be regulated for the whole time they should be there by the sensation he should make at the first dash. He therefore put on his most confident smile as he went into the dance: as he tilted about and pointed out the track where his enemy had gone, he made signs that the enemy had passed by, and then, beckoning up his warriors, pointed him out amongst a group of beautiful ladies who had taken an elevated and conspicuous position in front. He sounded the war-whoop, and all echoed it as he pointed towards the ladies, who screamed, and leapt from their seats, as the Indians’ weapons were drawn! Here was an excitement begun, and the old Doctor smiled as he turned his head and his weapons in other directions, and proceeded with the dance. At the end of its first part their feet all came to a simultaneous stop, when the Doctor advanced to the front of the platform, and, brandishing his spear over the heads of the audience, made the most tremendous boast of the manner in which he took a prisoner in a battle with the Pawnees, and drove him home before his horse rather than take his life: he then plunged into the most agitated dance alone, and acting out the whole features of his battle in time to the song and beating of the drum; and at the close, rounds of applause awaited him in every part of the crowd. These the Doctor received with so complaisant a smile of satisfaction, as he bowed his head gracefully inclined on one side, that another and another burst of applause, and another bow and smile, followed; satisfying him that the path was cleared before him. He then shook his rattle of deer’s hoofs, and, summoning his warriors, they all united in finishing with full and wild effect this spirited dance. Though in the midst of a dancing country, their mode of dancing was quite new, and was evidently calculated to amuse, from the immense applause that was given them at the end of their first effort.

The dancers had now all taken their seats, except the Doctor, who was lingering on his feet, and had passed his spear into his left hand, evidently preparing to push his advantage a little further with the ladies, by making a speech, as soon as silence should be sufficiently restored to enable him to be heard. This little delay might or might not have been a fortunate occurrence for the Doctor, for it afforded Jim an opportunity to remind him how much he had lost by his last two or three speeches, which so completely put him out, that he sat down, apparently well pleased and satisfied with what he had already accomplished.

My kind friend M. Vattemare, who had now become a great favourite of the Indians, went forward, and offered them his hand to encourage them, assuring them of the great pleasure the audience were taking, and encouraging them to go on with all the spirit they could, as there were some of the most distinguished people of Paris present—the Minister of the Interior and his lady, the PrÊfet de Police, several foreign ambassadors, and a number of the editors of the leading journals, who were taking notes, and would speak about them in the papers the next morning.

The eagle-dance was now announced to the audience as the next amusement; and after a brief description of it, the Little Wolf sprang upon his feet, and sounding his eagle whistle, and shaking the eagle’s tail in his left hand, while he brandished his tomahawk in his right, he commenced. His fellow-warriors were soon engaged with him, and all excited to the determination to make “a hit.” As after the first, they were complimented by rounds of applause, and sat down to their pipe with peculiar satisfaction. The War-chief took the first few whiffs upon it, and, rising, advanced to the front of the platform, and in the most dignified and graceful attitude that the orator could assume, extended his right hand over the heads of the audience, and said—

“My Friends,—It gives us great pleasure to see so many pleasant faces before us to-night, and to learn from your applause that you are amused with our dances. We are but children; we live in the woods, and are ignorant, and you see us here as the Great Spirit made us; and our dances are not like the dances of the French people, whom we have been told dance the best of any people in the world. (‘How, how, how!’ and immense applause.)

“My Friends,—We come here not to teach you to dance—(a roar of applause and laughter)—we come here not to teach you anything, for you are a great deal wiser than we, but to show you how we red people look and act in the wilderness, and we shall be glad some nights to go and see how the French people dance. (Great applause and ‘How, how, how!’)

“My Friends,—We are happy that the Great Spirit has kept us alive and well, and that we have been allowed to see the face of our Great Father your King. We saw him and your good Queen, and the little boy who will be king, and they all treated us with kind hearts, and we feel thankful for it. (‘How, how, how!’)

“My Friends,—We have crossed two oceans to come here, and we have seen no village so beautiful as Paris. London, where the Saganoshes live, is a large village, but their wigwams are not so beautiful as those in Paris, and in their streets there are too many people who seem to be very poor and hungry. (‘How, how, how!’)

“My Friends,—I have no more to say at present, only, that, when my young men have finished their dances, we shall be glad to shake hands with you all, if you desire it.” (“How, how, how!”)