Sovereign or Silly?

In northern New York State linger some 3,000 Seneca Indians, remains of the terrifying Six Nations. Are they citizens of New York, or of the U. S., or are they forever free and independent ? War usually decides such an issue. But, of course, the present question will not be submitted to the arbitrament of the sword. The question went to the U. S. Supreme Court under the following circumstances : Two years ago, a white woman claimed the estate of a Seneca. She met opposition in the Indians' own "Peace-Makers' Court," went to the New York Supreme Court, which summoned the Senecas. The proud red men refused to appear in the "alien" court. Two of them--Sylvester J. Pierce, administrator of the disputed estate, and Warren Kennedy, marshal of the red men's court--were taken prisoners for contempt. Their attorney, George P. Decker of Rochester, carried the case to Washington, where it became public last week. The red men contend that the patches of Seneca land, totaling 50,000 acres, constitute an independent sovereignty. They base their bold thought not only upon immemorial residence but also upon a solemn treaty concluded by the U. S. with the Six Nations in 1794. Indians in Oklahoma and elsewhere have sworn allegiance to the U. S. But the Senecas? Never! Their government, they set forth, has been peaceably exercised through chiefs chosen by "mothers of the tribe''--a practice somewhat modified in 1848 to conform with the practices of their white neighbors. But throughout all the disasters which have fallen upon their race in the last three centuries they have not yielded their sovereignty. Presumably the stubborn Chief Hoag is not ignorant of the fate of other Indians .who also had treaties with the U. S. He remembers the Cherokees whose lands were "annexed" by Georgia in 1828. In vain they appealed to President Jackson. He told them to submit to Georgia or get out across the Mississippi. When the now sacred Chief Justice Marshall, in an elaborate opinion, declared that Georgia had no jurisdiction in the Cherokee territory, the acrid old President frostily remarked: "John Marshall has made his decision; now let him enforce it!'' At last, in 1835, the Cherokees did cross the big river, some in peace, some sword-pricked; and consoled themselves with $5,000,000. John Marshall's theory of "domestic dependent" nations was too cunning. The swashbuckling President's ouster was sad, fairly humane, inevitable. And the ancient commentary upon these elaborate Indian treaties remains: "Law cannot make facts nor unmake them."