WILLIAM APESS, EULOGY ON KING PHILIP
(26 JANUARY 1836)
College of the Holy Cross
The remarkable career of William Apess has attracted considerable scholarly attention since his five books, which appeared between 1829 and 1836, were republished in 1992 in a compendium edited by Barry O'Connell. Thus was recovered a vibrant American Indian voice on behalf of civil rights for all people of color. Amid the political ferment in Boston in the 1830s, Apess' voice was also heard loud and clear from the speaker's platform, preaching the Methodist faith, defending his fellow Indians from exploiters, and presenting to all and sundry the revisionist version of seventeenth-century history instantiated in the Eulogy. Literary historian Maureen Konkle describes him this way:
Apess behaved like an intellectual: he had a substantial library; he gave lectures; he published books. He was an independent operator: he rented halls, had tickets printed, advertised in newspapers. For anyone not of the elite, let alone a Native person, an independent writing life was a difficult proposition in the 1830s.
Yet Apess' presence, then and now, contradicts the Puritan version of
Who Was William Apess?
Apess was born in
parents separated when he was a baby, and he was raised at first by his
grandmother, a violent alcoholic. After she beat him almost to death, White
neighbors removed him from her home and placed him with a White family as an
indentured servant (such placements of Indian children, for purposes of
exploiting their labor and assimilating them to European religious and social
norms, had been common in New England since the seventeenth century). Apess'
indenture passed to several different families while he was a child. Although
life was hard, he did receive six years of schooling and some introduction to
Christianity, experiencing religious conversion under Methodist preaching in
1813. Because the family with whom he was then working disapproved of
Methodism, and forbade him to attend Methodist meetings, Apess ran away and
joined the army, serving during the War of 1812. He was discharged in 1815 and
worked his way home, arriving in the Colchester,
Apess' religious conviction seems to have fueled his social activism on behalf of Indian rights. His first three publications were his own spiritual autobiography, A Son of the Forest (1831); two religious pieces published together, The Increase of the Kingdom of Christ: A Sermon, and The Indians: The Ten Lost Tribes (1831); and a collection of religious testimonies, The Experiences of Five Christian Indians of the Pequot Tribe (1833). In some ways, these are exactly the sorts of publications that might be expected from a dedicated preacher of the Gospel. Sermons and spiritual autobiographies were already familiar genres of religious literature, and Apess' primary purpose in these works seems to be to promote Christianity. He does so, however, from a distinctly Indian perspective. For example, both his own and the five Christian Pequots' accounts of their spiritual struggles include pointed remarks about their suffering under white supremacist racism. Moreover, bound as an appendix to Five Christian Indians is perhaps the most polemical of Apess' works, "An Indian's Looking-Glass for the White Man." Here Apess uses a traditional genre of reproof (such as might, for example, be used to hold up the drunkard's or gambler's sins for salutary self-scrutiny) to expose White racism.
to preach in Indian communities, Apess came to Mashpee on
At this point Apess was well-known as an activist
and as an accomplished orator. Observes Maureen Konkle, "in an era when
oratory was practically a spectator sport, Apess was by all accounts very good
at it." Thus,
confident of gaining an audience, he conceived the idea to deliver a speech
eulogizing the New England Indian who had been most demonized by New England
Whites. Most pointedly, he sought to eulogize Metacomet, whom they called "King
Philip," a leader of a Wampanoag rebellion against English encroachment
that became known as King Philip's War (1674-1675). A higher percentage of
White combatants relative to the general population were killed or injured in
this war than in any other American war up to the present day.
Apess could expect, then, that if he offered, shockingly, to eulogize this "monster,"
White audiences would turn out to hear him. Moreover, he already had a
reputation as a powerful orator from his participation in earlier rallies on
behalf of the Cherokee struggles in
Meanwhile, for reasons unknown, Apess fell out of
favor with the Mashpee community. He also suffered the loss of his wife. At
some point he remarried, and moved to
William Apess identified himself in his writings
as an Indian. He was perhaps the most successful activist on behalf of Indian rights in the antebellum
More accurately, Apess can be described as what literary historian Bernd Peyer calls a "transcultural invididual," incorporating elements from different cultures into his identity. Peyer emphasizes that this internal integration process can be empowering: "Rather than being incapacitated by a disturbed personality, the transcultural individual can, given the right social conditions, develop a 'new multiracial consciousness' that is culturally complex and still psychologically sound." Not only is this cultural mixing a rich source of development for the individual, but as Peyer points out, it can confer social power: "Whenever societies come into contact there will emerge a group of individuals who move back and forth between them and whose services as cultural brokers become essential for both sides."
Comparative literature scholar Mary Louise Pratt enriches our view of this kind of cultural situation with her concept of the "contact zone": "I use this term to refer to social spaces where cultures meet, clash, and grapple with each other, often in contexts of highly asymmetrical relations of power, such as colonialism, slavery, or their aftermaths as they are lived out in many parts of the world today." Pratt makes explicit what is implicit in Peyer's discussion, namely that contact zone situations are places of conflict, where groups with competing interests and unequal social and political power struggle together. Such struggles, of course, are conducted by many means, sometimes with armed force; but Pratt is most interested in the ways such struggles are conducted in language. For her, above all, a contact zone is a place where different groups are struggling for the power to interpret what is going on. This struggle necessitates the crossing of linguistic and cultural boundaries that Peyer describes; Pratt's prime example is a seventeenth-century South American Indian who wrote a long letter to the King of Spain in Spanish, protesting the brutal treatment of his people, while at the same time inter-lacing the text with passages in his own language, Quechua, and illustrations in Indian cultural style. Guaman Poma thus exemplifies Peyer's "transcultural" individual, using his cross-cultural knowledge in an attempt to represent the interests of his own, oppressed group.
model, however, is further enriched by the work of mixedblood rhetorician Scott
Lyons. Almost five hundred years after Guaman Poma, the situation for Native
people in South and
the help of Peyer, Pratt and
Historical and Political Contexts for the Eulogy: Colonial
above, the subject of Apess' Eulogy
was the most notorious Indian leader of colonial
to this war, the English stepped up efforts to convert the Indians to
Christianity and to the European way of life; for example, the English tried to
force the Indians to wear English clothes and live in English-style houses, to discontinue
such cultural practices as the segregation of menstruating women, etc. The best
known missionary to the Indians is the Reverend John Eliot, who established the
so-called "Praying Towns" for Indian converts in the
whose Indian name was Metacomet, inherited his leadership position from his
father, Massasoit, who died around 1660. The continuing growth of the English
colonies and various cultural conflicts among the peoples resulted in the
outbreak of hostilities in 1675. Although by this time the English had about 50
permanent settlements in
this war, many Indians headed west out of
Historical and Political Contexts for the Eulogy:
activism on behalf of New England Indians emerged in a context of increasing
agitation over Indian rights throughout the
early nineteenth century, the most active frontier for White expansion lay in
the lower South, home to several tribes who had established large towns and
extensive farms there. White settlers wanted these tribes removed, and military
leader Andrew Jackson led successful campaigns against the Creeks and
Seminoles, soon forcing treaties that surrendered most of what are now the
this pressure, most Choctaws moved west without a battle, having signed a
removal treaty in 1830. The Creeks signed a treaty in 1832 that was supposed to
divide their former territory between them and White settlers, but the
government did not protect them against subsequent White encroachment and, with
retaliatory violence escalating, removed them by military force in 1836-1837.
The Chickasaws signed a removal treaty in 1832 and moved west in 1837-1838, but
they never received all the land they were promised. Although a small group of
Seminoles signed a removal treaty in 1833, most vowed to stay and fight, and
they did so in three costly wars lasting until 1858 when most of those
remaining accepted payment to move west. A small group of Cherokees also signed
a removal treaty in 1833, but this agreement was loudly protested by the great
majority of the Cherokee and their tribal leaders. Nevertheless, the U. S.
Supreme Court ratified this treaty in 1836 and gave the Cherokee two years to
move west on their own. Most did not; and so they were driven out at gunpoint
Maureen Konkle has explained, the removal process threw into high relief a
number of conundrums involved in White relations with Indian tribes. English
settlers in the region that would become the
not lost on Northern abolitionists that many of these issues resembled those
raised in discussion about whether people of African descent could be
responsible for themselves. Considerable sentiment on behalf of the "Five
Civilized Tribes" arose in the North. Apess had been active on the tribes'
behalf, speaking at a rally for them in 1832. Perhaps it occurred to him then
that this was an opportune time to remind New Englanders, by eulogizing a local
leader of Indian resistance, that they still had their own Indian population in
need of redress. Defiantly,
he chose to deliver the Eulogy first
on a date associated with the enemy of the Cherokee, Andrew Jackson. Konkle
cites historian James Brewer Stewart on the growth in the
The Eulogy as a (Native) American Jeremiad
Apess pursued this advocacy by using a literary
form of traditional and deep religious importance to the Puritan-descended White
audiences he confronted in New England, namely what American literature scholar
Sacvan Bercovitch has called the "American jeremiad." Bercovitch
distinguishes between the European jeremiad, ultimately derived from the
prophet Jeremiah in the Bible, and what English Puritans made of this genre in
The European jeremiad developed within a static
hierarchical order; the lessons it taught, about historical recurrence and the
vanity of human wishes, amounted to a massive ritual reinforcement of
tradition. Its function was to make social practice conform to a completed and
perfected social idea. The American Puritan jeremiad was the ritual of a culture
on an errand--which is to say, a culture based on a faith in process.
Substituting teleology for hierarchy, it discarded the Old World ideal of
stasis for a
Apess was well read in Puritan literature, as the references in the Eulogy reveal. Indeed, he makes detailed
strategic use of his knowledge of Puritan historical archives.
Thus Apess would have been aware of the "errand" that
Bercovitch discusses above, the Puritans' sense of their own mission to found a superior society. Moreover, he made use not only
of the content of Puritan historical writings but also of their
rhetorical techniques, adapting these for Indian purposes. As a Christian, Apess would have shared the most universally
applicable of Puritan ideals--and as an American, he would have shared their
faith that society could move toward these ideals. At the same time, as
an Indian, Apess was in a good position to
know how far short of these ideals
The Eulogy on
King Philip was first delivered as a public lecture in
In the Eulogy,
Apess raises the whole question of religious authority to a broader plane, in
an argument about European Americans' understanding of what they were
To fully appreciate the Eulogy, it helps to be as well read in Puritan literature as
Apess was. Evidently he knew not only such well-known authors as William
Bradford and Increase Mather, but also more
obscure texts such as Mourt's Relation
and Benjamin Church's account of King Philip's War. Demonstrating his literacy--and
even more, his learning--is of course a strategy to legitimate his critical
The basic structure of his essay is a chronological tour through early
To give another example from a later point in history, Apess takes up the claim, cited in many English accounts, that the Indians made war with unusual ferocity, thus justifying genocidal measures against them. To refute this claim, Apess uses the captivity narrative of Mary Rowlandson. Apess implies that it is not the Indians who are ferocious and cruel, but the English, who, far from entertaining their female captives politely, rape them, unlike the Indians. He points out:
Mrs. Rowlandson, although speaking with bitterness sometimes of the Indians, yet in her journal she speaks not a word against him. Philip even hires her to work for him and pays her for her work, and then invites her to dine with him and to smoke with him. . . . Was it known that [the English] received any of their female captives into their houses and fed them? No, it cannot be found upon history. Were not the [English] females completely safe, and none of them were violated, as they acknowledge themselves? But was it so when the Indian women fell into the hands of the Pilgrims? (52-53)
One final example of Apess' reinterpretation of
European American history can be taken from his treatment of Benjamin Church's
account of the death of King Philip. Church rather gleefully relates that after
Philip's death, Church and his soldiers chopped up the body and distributed the
parts, the head being put on display in
Obviously, Apess' revisionist history is intended to undermine English claims that they were doing God's work in attempting to exterminate the Indians. Apess is not content to let this refutation remain merely an implication, however. He repeatedly directly attacks the English religious interpretation of history. For example, Apess cites Increase Mather:
... he says, during the bloody contest [King Philip's War] the pious fathers wrestled hard and long with their God, in prayer, that he would prosper their arms and deliver their enemies into their hands. And when upon stated days of prayer the Indians got the advantage, it was considered as a rebuke of divine providence…. (58)
Of these days of "rebuke," Apess remarks ironically, "We suppose the Indian prayed best then" (58). His undercutting goes further, however, just a few lines later, when he quotes Mather to the effect that when Philip died, the English had "'prayed the bullet through his heart'" (58). Apess again uses wry humor, begging to "be excused" from being the recipient of such blasphemous prayers, and then denouncing the interpretation outright, on biblical authority:
If I had any faith in such prayers, I should begin to think that soon we should all be gone. However, if this is the way they pray, that is, bullets through people's hearts, I hope they will not pray for me; I should rather be excused. But to say the least, there is no excuse for their ignorance how to treat their enemies and pray for them. If the Doctor and his people had only turned to the 23rd of Luke, and the 34th verse, and heard the words of their Master, whom they pretend to follow, they would see that their course did utterly condemn them…. (58)
And Apess then cites several biblical texts on the need to forgive one's enemies and pray for their welfare. The damning point, from the perspective of the American jeremiad, is that in Christian terms the English actions are not justified: "their course did utterly condemn them." Furthermore, if God actually favored such prayers, as Apess ironically observes, God would have removed all the Indians by that time—his very presence, however, refutes that claim.
Apess fulfills his function as a (Native) American Jeremiah by linking these past evil deeds to evils of the present day: "I do not hesitate to say that through the prayers, preaching, and examples of those pretended pious has been the foundation of all the slavery and degradation in the American colonies toward colored people" (59). The fundamental abandonment of cherished values--claiming to be Christian and yet treating others in a most un-Christian fashion--has had, and still has, dire consequences. If the Indians were the enemies of the English, Christianity nevertheless dictates that enemies are to be treated very differently from how the Puritans behaved. And other people of color who have been persecuted by the European Americans--such as the enslaved African Americans, to whom Apess makes frequent reference--can hardly be construed as enemies. They never raised arms against the English before they were kidnapped and enslaved. Apess accuses his White American contemporaries of maintaining the Puritan legacy of prejudice and hatred:
Christians, can you answer for those beings that have been destroyed by your hostilities, and beings too that lie endeared to God as yourselves, his Son being their Savior as well as yours, and alike to all men? And will you presume to say that you are executing the judgments of God by so doing, or as many really are approving the works of their fathers to be genuine, as it is certain that every time they celebrate the day of the Pilgrims they do? Although in words they deny it, yet in the works they approve of the iniquities of their fathers. And as the seed of iniquity and prejudice was sown in that day, so it still remains…. (21)
Examples of the "works" to which Apess refers here are dotted throughout the Eulogy, but especially clustered at the end, where contemporary instances of prejudice are cited, ranging from racial slights that Apess himself has endured to the forced removal of the Cherokee people from their lands in Georgia and the murder of Indians who had allied themselves with the English, such as the family of Chief Logan.
retribution threatened for such crimes, from Apess' point of view, will come from divine displeasure. The very
terms of the American jeremiad guarantee it, if the European settlers have indeed violated divine will as atrociously as
Apess argues that they have. But Apess suggests that evil consequences will
take a political form as well, affecting
... let the day be dark, the 22nd day of December 1622; let it be forgotten in your celebration, in your speeches, and by the burying of the rock that your fathers first put their foot upon. For be it remembered, although the Gospel is said to be glad tidings to all people, yet we poor Indians never have found those who brought it as messengers of mercy, but contrawise. We say, therefore, let every man of color wrap himself in mourning, for the 22nd of December and the 4th of July are days of mourning and not of joy. (20)
These holidays are characterized by Apess as "your"
days, not "ours," a technique of distancing to be found in abolition
oratory such as Frederick Douglass' 1852 address "What to the Slave is the
Fourth of July?" Apess insists on making common cause, both religiously
and politically, with other people of color, calling here not only on Indians
but on "every man of color" to question his participation in the American
body politic. Apess invokes the spectre of race warfare, a deadly threat to
American political ideals. Abolition literature of the day often promised a
dire retribution for White participation in the monstrous crime of slavery.
Apess may well have known, for example, African American David Walker's Appeal . . . to the Coloured Citizens of the
World, published in
As Bercovitch points out, the American jeremiad cannot end simply with predictions of disaster (even if they are comfortably vague as to time of arrival). There must be some spur to action in the present day, some hope that reform can come and avert the wrath of both God and human beings. Apess does not omit this step from his jeremiad, concluding with mention of the White people who have already spoken up for Indian rights. However, they are a "minority" of people whose "feeble voice" is hardly enough to quench the flames of prejudice:
What, then, is to be done? Let every friend of the
Indians now seize the mantle of
Again, the spectre of war is raised, almost overpowering any hope that might be gleaned from the image of the few, feeble defenders of the Indians. Nevertheless, Apess' final words in the Eulogy do appear to forgive White people for their crimes against people of color and to hold out the prospect of peace for those who renounce earlier crimes of prejudice:
. . you and I have to rejoice that we have not to answer for our fathers' crimes; neither shall we do right to charge them one to another. We can only regret it, and flee from it; and from henceforth, let peace and righteousness be written upon our hearts and hands forever, is the wish of a poor Indian. (72)
Although he has just been doing so at length, Apess promises now not to charge the crimes of the Whites' ancestors against them. He offers the possibility of going on from here with a better mutual understanding.
Apess' "Mixedblood" Rhetoric
Are Apess' final words shockingly out of character?
Why does he describe himself, seemingly pathetically, as a "poor Indian,"
after he has just spent many pages denouncing White crimes most vigorously? Of
course, Apess likes wry humor, and this could be another example of it. Or,
perhaps, this is an instance of a different rhetorical strategy, an attempt to
placate the White audience or at least, perhaps, to disarm some of the alarm
they may be feeling at being addressed so forthrightly by a man of color, alarm
that if unmoderated, might lead them to reject his message. No doubt
Apess was ironically aware that "Sympathy for Indians was a well-developed
discourse by the early 1830s, the correct moral position for
We can get a sense of the complex rhetorical situation Apess faced from an eyewitness account of his oratory on behalf of the Cherokee nation. Louisa Jane Park, a well-to-do young White woman, was present in the hall in April 1832, accompanied by several younger women friends. She reports that one of them was very disappointed not to see "'a real wild Indian with his hair streaming down his back, a tomahawk in his hand, and a wampum belt, making a speech to us in Cherokee.'" This is not what Park was looking for, and she was pleased by the oratory of Apess, comparing him favorably with the other Indian speaker that evening, Elias Boudinot:
The other of our "red brethren" mounted the pulpit stairs as [Boudinot] descended, and his "palaver" seemed to hit the taste of the audience more decidedly. He was dressed like his companion, and at the distance I was, both resembled Mr. Sam Houston!--begging his pardon for comparing him to savages. We now had a few tropes and metaphors, which never failed of applause; some of them were manifestly claptraps; but on the whole I was both surprised and pleased. This man was evidently not quite so well educated, had not the same familiarity with choice language, and was not so civilized as his companion, but there was more native eloquence in his address; his earnestness was evidently sincere, and I felt the difference between hearing an actor on the stage, or even a lawyer defending a client--and listening to a patriot engaged bona fide, with all his heart and soul, in stating the wrongs and pleading the cause of his oppressed country. He was sometimes vehement--and Gen. Jackson had one or two side-knocks, to my great satisfaction.
Since she is pleased to hear
similar audience was probably in place when Apess delivered the Eulogy he had to tailor his "mixedblood"
rhetoric to appear refined and yet also "native." Apess represents an
Indian viewpoint here on
The Eulogy on King Philip: Legacies
Indians, indeed, did not die out as many Whites expected, the
of William Apess has been and remains relevant to these centuries of struggle. Like
the Pequots, from whom he traces one strand of his heritage, tribes today struggle
to maintain their legal identity against government policies that would declare
them to be non-existent. Asserting tribal identity has serious consequences for
the local and federal political power the tribes can wield and the economic
resources, including natural resources such as fish runs, to which they have
access. As they fight these battles, like Apess himself, Indian activists today
sometimes have to contend with external strategies that constitute authentic "Indian-ness."
And to prevail in these battles, many people of Indian descent today, like
Apess, work to control their own educations and to develop their own rhetorical
discourses. Indeed, this is a motive for the creation of the
Apess' rhetoric has been important to these processes of resistance. Konkle points out that Apess not only inspired Indian resistance during his own day at Mashpee, but also guided later activists as well: for example, Nicholson Parker and Ely Parker (Seneca) "read Apess' Eulogy on King Philip as schoolboys and took it as a rhetorical model." How so? Certainly, it was important that Apess studied both dominant and alternative cultural accounts of what had happened in his homeland, to his kin and their neighbors. It was important that Apess reached out for more education than his society was willing to offer him. Konkle is eloquent on the value of this research:
The maps of the United States and the world that were listed in the inventory of [Apess'] library reinforce an understanding of Apess as an intellectual, as someone who thought of himself and other Native peoples in relation to the rest of the world and in relation to other histories in the wake of European colonialism and imperialism. He had to understand those relations in order to understand what had happened to Native peoples and how they were supposed to go forward from where they were, politically, economically, even geographically.
however, tends to suggest that Apess' research enabled him to see the "truth"
about the situation of American Indians and other oppressed peoples of color.
She seems to suggest that his research enabled him to reject the dominant
accounts as entirely wrong and embrace the alternative accounts as entirely
right. A more nuanced view of Apess' practice, however, would suggest that he
compared the different accounts to which he had access and evaluated them in
light of each other, for what they revealed about both the past and the
present. He can be seen doing this in the Eulogy,
partisan as it is. For example, while attacking
least important thing such comparative work revealed about Apess' own day was
some sense of how his White audiences came by their racial and political
attitudes, and how he could glean cultural references that they would recognize
for his arguments on behalf of peoples of color. In other words, he used it to bolster
a mixedblood rhetorical perspective. This rhetoric of survivance is highly
pragmatic, grasping at almost any rhetorical tool in order to put across the
message, while never losing sight of the high ideals of human rights for which
the battle is fought. Apess' touchstone for these higher values was his
Christian faith, a faith that has served a similar purpose for other activists
up to the present day--most notably, the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr.
Moreover, the higher values, which may be held by many people across different
racial and religious groups, help to foster an equally important element of
Apess' vision, his commitment to making common cause among all people of color,
and indeed, among all oppressed groups. His more global historical perspective
encouraged him in this view, as well as his own culturally and racially mixed
heritage. As Barry O'Connell has observed, Apess' perspective is startlingly
current: "This voice, and the consciousness of the nature of Euro-American
racism it expresses, could have been heard in the 1960s or 1970s, possibly in
the 1990s," yet surprisingly, Apess' views are expressed "in the
first third of the nineteenth century and in
Last updated: October 2006
Patricia Bizzell is Professor of English at the College of
the Holy Cross,
 Maureen Konkle, Writing
Indian Nations: Native Intellectuals and the Politics of Historiography,
1827-1863 (Chapel Hill:
 References pertaining to the jeremiad and mixedblood
rhetoric will appear where they are discussed at greater length in this essay.
Please note: throughout this essay, I will use the term "Indian" to
refer to the native people of
 These mixed strands in Apess' own heritage may help to explain why he sometimes mis-identifies King Philip as a Pequot, when he was in fact a Wampanoag. Roumiana Velikova has examined these various tribal identifications of Philip, and she traces the error to one of Apess' sources, Elias Boudinot. She also says that "claiming a specific kind of ancestor in King Philip may have been of immediate practical importance to Apess" both to express solidarity with the Wampanoag band at Mashpee (whose relations with Apess are discussed here) and to capitalize on the Romantic glamour attaching to Philip in some of Apess's contemporary White writers' accounts (in Roumiana Velikova, "'Philip, King of the Pequots': History of an Error," Early American Literature 37 (2002): 331.
 Konkle, Writing Indian Nations, 134.
 Historian Russell Bourne says that the colonists'
casualties represented "the greatest loss, proportionally, that Americans
would ever suffer in 350 years of colonial and national history," and he
asserts, "Not for one hundred years would
 For biographical information on Apess, see Barry O'Connell, "Introduction," in William Apess, On Our Own Ground: The Complete Writings of William Apess, A Pequot, Barry O'Connell, ed. (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1992), xxiv-xxxviii, and Konkle, Writing Indian Nations, 106 passim; Konkle corrects some lacunae and errors in O'Connell's account, such as the story that Apess died of alcoholism. For more on Apess' attraction to Methodism, see Sandra Gustafson, "Nations of Israelites: Prophecy and Cultural Autonomy in the Writings of William Apess," Religion and Literature 26 (Spring 1994), 32-33; and Karim M. Tiro, "Denominated 'SAVAGE': Methodism, Writing, and Identity in the Works of William Apess, A Pequot," American Quarterly 48 (December 1996): 653-679.
is particularly trenchant in critiquing the sentimental and ahistorical in
views of Indians (see Writing Indian
Nations, 1-3, 30-31). She indicts Bernd Peyer for these errors, I believe
incorrectly, although space does not permit me to engage the argument here.
Many references could be given on the topic of the transcultural individual.
This form of mixed cultural experience has been discussed in scholarship on the
effects of colonialism, and on the cultural identities of people of color in
 Peyer, The Tutor'd Mind, 17.
 Peyer, The Tutor'd Mind, 17.
 Peyer, The Tutor'd Mind, 16.
 Mary Louise Pratt, "Arts of the Contact Zone," Profession 91 (1991): 34.
 Scott Lyons, "A Captivity Narrative: Indians, Mixedbloods, and 'White' Academe," in Outbursts in Academe: Multiculturalism and Other Sources of Conflict, Kathleen Dixon, ed. (Portsmouth, NH: Boyton/Cook-Heinemann, 1998).
 On the early history of Indian-European relations in New England and the Pequot War, which is too complex to be detailed in the space available here, see James Axtell, The Invasion Within: The Contest of Cultures in Colonial North America (New York: Oxford University Press, 1985); Alfred A. Cave, The Pequot War (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1996); William Cronon, Changes in the Land: Indians, Colonists, and the Ecology of New England (New York: Hill and Wang, 1983); and Neal Salisbury, Manitou and Providence: Indians, Europeans, and the Making of New England (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1982).
 On English attempts to force an English way of life on
Indians, see the rules drawn up for the Praying Indian town of
 On King Philip's War and its aftermath, see Russell
Bourne, The Red King's Rebellion: Racial
 For a basic timeline of the removal of the "Five Civilized Tribes," the text of the Indian Removal Act of 1830, and more, see "Indian Removal Act, The Trail of Tears," at http://www.historicaldocuments.com/indianremovalact.htm. The Cherokee resistance is also discussed extensively in Konkle, Writing Indian Nations, 42-96.
 Konkle, Writing Indian Nations, 3.
 The right of "vacuum domicilium" was invoked
to justify English occupation not when the land was empty of people--as
 Konkle describes this occasion (Writing Indian Nations, 97-99). She also cites a review of Apess'
book on the Mashpee protest that suggests this point was not lost upon his
contemporary readers: "Mr. A. proves very clearly, that the Marshpees have
been most shamefully abused and neglected, and that while our far-reaching
philanthropists were weeping over the fate of 'the poor Cherokees,' they
were guilty of grosser injustice toward the Indians of their own State…." (from
Boston Morning Post,
 On 8 January 1815
 Konkle, Writing Indian Nations, 16-17. The main thrust of Konkle's analysis of Apess' oeuvre in Chapter Two of Writing Indian Nations is to show how he resisted this racialized discourse.
 Sacvan Berkovitch, The
American Jeremiad (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1978), 23.
Gustafson has discussed how Apess's development of a "prophetic voice"
played upon the millennialism rampant among American Protestants in the late
1820s ("Nations of Israelites," 37, 43). Deborah Gussman discusses
Apess posture as a "Native American Jeremiah" in "'O Savage,
Where Art Thou?': Rhetorics of Reform in William Apess's Eulogy on King Philip," New
England Quarterly 67 (September 2004), 463-467. She also draws heavily on
Bercovitch's work; but I wrote my essay before reading hers. See also Patricia
Bizzell, "(Native) American Jeremiad: The 'Mixedblood' Rhetoric of William
Apess," in American Indian Rhetorics
of Survivance: Word Medicine, Word Magic, Ernest Stromberg, ed. (
 See Patricia Bizzell, "The 4th of July and the 22nd of December: The Function of Cultural Archives in Persuasion as Shown by Frederick Douglass and William Apess" (College Composition and Communication 48 [February 1997]: 44-60).
scholar Cheryl Walker has also noted the "hybrid" quality of Apess'
writing in Indian Nation: Native American
Literature and Nineteenth-Century Nationalism (Durham: Duke University
Press, 1997), 41. She argues that he attempts to reinterpret American history
and claim a place for Indians in a truly democratic nation. I believe her
analysis is actually closer to Maureen Konkle's position that Konkle's critique
of her work contends, although space does not permit me to engage the argument
 O'Connell, headnote, On Our Own Ground, 275.
 See Konkle, Writing Indian Nations, 108. This strategy was also a well-known tool, needed for similar reasons, of African American writers, whether born free or escaped from slavery. Be it noted that Apess probably did not read all the European American sources in the original; he took much information from Samuel Gardner Drake's Biography and History of the Indians of North America, which went through several editions in the 1830s (see Konkle, Writing Indian Nations, 135-136). Konkle points out that Drake and other contemporary European American historians did not entirely demonize King Philip. They accorded him some heroic qualities, but presented an over-all picture of a doomed savage, quite unlike the national leader on a par with George Washington who appears in Apess' Eulogy.
 Apess' Eulogy
on King Philip is reprinted in On Our
Own Ground: The Complete Writings of William Apess, A Pequot, Barry
O’Connell, ed. (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1992). All of the
remaining passages from Apess' January 8 and
makes a slip of the pen here in giving the date that the Pilgrims landed on
Plymouth Rock as 1622; elsewhere in the Eulogy,
he gives the correct year of 1620. The exact date of the Pilgrims' first
 Konkle, Writing Indian Nations, 24. Konkle makes clear that this "sympathy" was sentimental and comfortably directed only toward Indians who were far away either geographically (such as the Cherokees) or chronologically (such as the Pequots and Wampanoags involved in King Philip's War--conveniently ignoring the Pequots and Wampanoags who still lived--and live--in New England).
 Quoted in Konkle, Writing Indian Nations, 99.
 Quoted in Konkle, Writing Indian Nations, 99.
 The great nineteenth-century African American intellectual and former slave, Frederick Douglass, also had to make some choices relative to this rhetorical strategy. In the second edition of his autobiography, he describes how he eventually decided to disregard the advice of white abolitionists that he should just "'tell your story,'" and "'Better have a little of the plantation manner of speech than not; 'tis not best that you seem too learned'"; quoted by Douglass in My Bondage and My Freedom (1855; rpt. in Frederick Douglass, The Oxford Frederick Douglass Reader, William L. Andrews, ed. [New York: Oxford University Press, 1996], 214).
 I agree with Gussman's speculation (in "'O Savage, Where Art Thou?'," 458) that Philip's speech, although including some obviously disparate and "literary" elements, such as the reference to buffalo, seldom seen in New England, may have been drawn in substance from New England Indian oral tradition to which Apess had access.
 Malea Powell, "Listening to Ghosts: An
Alternative (Non)Argument," in ALT
DIS: Alternative Discourses and the Academy, Christopher Schroeder, Helen
Fox, and Patricia Bizzell, eds. (
 See Konkle, Writing
Indian Nations, 8, 26. Also, for a brief history of Indian legal relations
 Konkle, Writing Indian Nations, 292-293.
 Konkle, Writing Indian Nations, 156-157.
 O'Connell, "Introduction," On Our Own Ground, xiii.