CAPITAL NEGOTIATIONS: NATIVE DIPLOMATS IN THE AMERICAN CAPITAL, 1789-1837 by Stephanie L. Gamble A dissertation submitted to Johns Hopkins University in conformity with the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy Baltimore, Maryland October 2014 © 2014 Stephanie L. Gamble All Rights Reserved ABSTRACT “Capital Negotiations: Native Diplomats in the American Capital, 1789-1837,” examines the culture of diplomacy created by Native delegates and American officials as they negotiated in the seat of federal power. Between 1789 and 1837, more than 170 delegations of Native peoples from more than forty nations arrived in the national capital to engage in diplomacy with the United States government. Deputations ranged in size from a single diplomat to several dozen. The majority of delegations consisted of members of only one nation, though a notable minority was comprised of individuals from multiple nations. With many of these visits overlapping, Indian ambassadors were visible, nearly ever-present figures in the capital’s streets, theatres, hotels, and federal offices, as well as on the roads and waterways leading to and from the capital. Examining speeches, government records, newspapers, guidebooks, and personal letters, this dissertation uncovers the evolving expectations and strategies of Native diplomats as well as federal officials’ attempts to control Native visits. This project demonstrates the myriad ways in which Natives and federal officials performed diplomatic identities not just for one another but also for a wider American public, through extensive newspaper reporting and public displays of Native culture and American progress. Further, it establishes the importance of the American capital as a physical and ideological space for Native leaders and diplomats. “Capital Negotiations” refracts the broader history of United States-Indian policy through the experience of Native diplomats in order to highlight the contingent and contested place, literally and figuratively, of Indians in the American nation. Philip Morgan ii Toby Ditz François Furstenberg Mary Fissell Sharon Kingsland iii PREFACE I, like any graduate student going through the process of writing a dissertation, have accrued an array of debts both personal and professional in the course of this project. Each individual and organization that supported or aided me in this endeavor was indispensable in their own ways. While the assistance in this project was myriad, all errors and oversights remain, alas, my own. Research and writing support came from many sources. First and foremost, the Department of History at Johns Hopkins University offered generous funding, in particular a Butler Finishing Fellowship that allowed me to write up the final draft. The university also provided funding over two semesters through the Deans Teaching Fellowship. The Newberry Library offered early research support with a month-long fellowship. The Gilder Lehrman Institute made it possible for me to research in their collection and the New York Historical Society collections. There I would be remiss not to note the exceptional reading room staff. A timely grant from the White House Historical Association provided for a summer of research at the National Archives and Records Administration. And last, but certainly not least, the Library Company of Philadelphia granted me a short-term fellowship for their collections and those of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania next door. Not only were the staff most helpful, but the scholarly community of Cassatt House was refreshing, particularly Susan Sterns and David Hochfelder. Closer to home and heart are the individuals, faculty, staff, and fellow graduate students, at Johns Hopkins who sustained both the person and the work over the long years of dissertation writing. Phil Morgan started me on this path by seeing promise in iv my application to graduate school and admitting me to work with him. Over the years, his bracing questions and editorial suggestions drove me to sharpen my thinking, research deeper, and be methodological in my approach, all of which served to strengthen this project. Toby Ditz has always felt like a second advisor to me, and I am deeply grateful for the time she devoted to reading drafts, offering advice, and recognizing that we all need to escape from the academic life sometimes. This dissertation would never have been written without a simple but insightful question posed by Mike Johnson. I’ll never forget sitting in his office in Dell House at our final meeting before my comps. He asked the questions that brought this entire project into my mind—so what would you write about if you were a 19th century historian? My excitement for this topic has never waned, which is a testament to Mike’s ability to ask just the right question. I am grateful to all that I learned in my fields, and thanks therefore go to John Marshall and Mary Ryan, in addition to Phil, Toby, and Mike. While François Furstenberg barely overlapped with my time at Hopkins, he graciously agreed to join my committee and commented on drafts both in seminar and out. His feedback helped me polish the project and reassured me of its merit during the final push. Johns Hopkins’ seminar culture is truly distinctive. Fellow members of the Early American/Atlantic seminar bore witness to every stage of this dissertation. Their critical reading shaped both my writing and my thoughts. Even when I was not workshopping my own drafts, the conversation and questions at Monday seminars was important to shaping me as a scholar. The scholars that filled the table when I arrived provided both an introduction to graduate school and examples of incisive reading and questioning. They v also served as mentors—Justin Roberts, James Roberts, Jess Rooney, and especially Katie Jorgensen Gray, Molly Warsh, and Joe Adelman. My cohort—Claire Gherini, Cole Jones, and Jonathan Gienapp—provided camaraderie, both intellectual and personal, from the beginning. Though it becomes a long list, I want to thank each of the additional members of the seminar over the years; Dave Schley, Sara Damiano, Katherine Arner, Rachel Calvin-Whitehead, James Ashton, Nick Radburn, Katherine Smoak, Chris Consolino, Nate Marvin, Will Brown, Lauren MacDonald, Joe Clark, John Harris, Meredith Gaffield, Sarah Templier, and Dexnell Peters. Our Patrick Henry Fellows, Zara Anashanslin and Scott Heerman, were wonderful additions to the seminar and generous readers. The Gender Seminar (Geminar!) also read pieces of this project over the years. Perhaps even more importantly, the Geminar, hosted by Toby Ditz, Judy Walkowitz, and Mary Ryan, and filled with brilliant colleges from the departments of history, history of science and medicine, English, and the humanities was for me, a model of interdisciplinary and scholarly exchange. I always came away from seminar with my mind expanded. Before I arrived at Johns Hopkins, numerous faculty at The College of William and Mary fueled my passion for history and provided guidance and mentorship. From the first week of college, Jim Whittenburg took me under his wing as a budding history major, teaching quite simply the best history class (among many) I ever took. Jim Axtell taught me to write like a historian and was a kind but rigorous mentor as I composed my senior honors thesis; he guided me through the grad school application process, and was wise enough to know when meetings over coffee should be meetings over ice-cream vi instead. Cindy Hahamovitch saw promise in me and went out of her way to help me follow my dreams of being a scholar of Native history. Andy Fisher allowed me to take his graduate course on Native history, despite being an undergraduate, and introduced me to historiography and the grad style seminar. John Gamber, too, bent the rules to allow me into his class and introduced me to new scholarly questions. Fred Smith expanded my horizons by introducing me to archaeological fieldwork and facilitating a research trip to the National Museum and National Archives of Barbados. Many others were exceptional scholars and teachers, giving me an exceptional foundation as an aspiring scholar. I have saved the nearest and dearest to my heart for last, in keeping with the old adage. I want to thank my family for their patience and support over the past seven years. I know this project took too long and hung over everything. But time with you all is what kept me sane. Thank you for believing that I could finish and for bearing with me while I did. You have helped me more than I could write—Mom, Dad, Jen, Katie, Bobby, Blake, and Whitney and Ashton. The Gambles too offered support and encouragement, as they welcomed me into their family in the midst of this process. The most wide-ranging thanks, however, is reserved for Rob. His support, both intellectual and emotional, undergirds this entire undertaking. Thank you, Rob, for reading every word, every footnote, and every iteration. Thank you for your ideas, your book recommendations, and your edits. Thank you for listening to my outbursts of inspiration and rants of exasperation. Thank you for knowing when to push me harder and when to help me get critical distance from this project. And, most importantly— though it is futile for me to attempt to express in words—for your unconditional love during every up and down over the past seven years, thank you. vii TABLE OF CONTENTS Introduction: Native Diplomats and the Federal Capital 1 Chapter 1: “He will be your father, and you will be his children”: Introducing