Part 3

Other faculties of a higher order are developed by the scenes amid which the life of savages is spent. They are divided into a number of little communities, between which are actively carried on all the relations of war, negotiation, treaty, and alliance. As mighty revolutions, observes an eloquent writer, take place in these kingdoms of wood and cities of bark, as in the most powerful civilized states. To increase the influence and extend the possessions of their own tribe—to humble, and, if possible, destroy those hostile to them—are the constant aims of every member of those little commonwealths. For these ends, not only deeds of daring valour are achieved, but schemes are deeply laid, and pursued with the most accurate calculation. There is scarcely a refinement in European diplomacy to which they are strangers. The French once made an attempt to crush the confederacy of the Five Nations, by attacking each in succession; but as they were on their march against the first tribe, they were met by the deputies of the other, who offered their mediation, intimating, that if it were rejected, they would make common cause with the one threatened. That association, also, showed that they completely understood how to employ the hostility, which prevailed between their enemy and the English, for promoting their own aggrandizement. Embassies, announced by the calumet of peace, are constantly passing from one tribe to another.

The same political circumstances develop, in an extraordinary degree, the powers of oratory; for nothing of any importance is transacted without a speech. On every emergency a council of the tribe is called, when the aged and wise hold long deliberations for the public weal. The functions of orator among the Five Nations, had even become a separate profession, held in equal or higher honour than that of the warrior; and each clan appointed the most eloquent of their number to speak for them in the public council. Nay, there was a general orator for the whole confederacy, who could say to the French governor, “Ononthio, lend thine ear—I am the mouth of all the country; you hear all the Iroquois in hearing my word.” Decanesora, their speaker, at a later period, was greatly admired by the English, and his bust was thought to resemble that of Cicero. In their diplomatic discourses, each proposition is prefaced by the delivery of a belt of wampum, of which what follows is understood to be the explanation, and which is to be preserved as a record of the conference. The orator does not express his proposals in words only, but gives to every sentence its appropriate action. If he threatens war, he wildly brandishes the tomahawk; if he solicits alliance, he twines his arms closely with those of the chief whom he addresses; and if he invites friendly intercourse, he assumes all the attitudes of one who is forming a road in the Indian manner, by cutting down the trees, clearing them away, and carefully removing the leaves and branches. To a French writer, who witnessed the delivery of a solemn embassy, it suggested the idea of a company of actors performing on a stage. So expressive are their gestures, that negotiations have been conducted, and alliances concluded between petty states and communities, who understood nothing of one another’s language.

The composition of the Indian orators is studied and elaborate. The language of the Iroquois is even held to be susceptible of an Attic elegance, which few can attain so fully as to escape all criticism. It is figurative in the highest degree, every notion being expressed by images addressed to the senses. Thus, to throw up the hatchet, or to put on the great cauldron, is to begin a war; to throw the hatchet to the sky, is to wage open and terrible war; to take off the cauldron, or to bury the hatchet, is to make peace; to plant the tree of peace on the highest mountain of the earth, is to make a general pacification. To throw a prisoner into the cauldron, is to devote him to torture and death; to take him out, is to pardon and receive him as a member of the community. Ambassadors coming to propose a full and general treaty, say, “We rend the clouds asunder, and drive away all darkness from the heavens, that the sun of peace may shine with brightness over us all.” On another occasion, referring to their own violent conduct, they said, “We are glad that Assarigoa will bury in the pit what is past; let the earth be trodden hard over it; or rather let a strong stream run under the pit to wash away the evil.” They afterwards added, “We now plant a tree, whose top will reach the sun, and its branches spread far abroad; and we shall shelter ourselves under it, and live in peace.” To send the collar underground, is to carry on a secret negotiation; but when expressing a desire that there might be no duplicity or concealment between them and the French, they said, that “they wished to fix the sun in the top of the heaven, immediately above that pole, that it might beat directly down, and leave nothing in obscurity.” In pledging themselves to a firm and steady peace, they declared that they would not only throw down the great war cauldron, and cause all the water to flow out, but would break it in pieces. This disposition to represent every thing by a sensible object extends to matters the most important. One powerful people assumed the appellation of Foxes, while another gloried in that of Cats. Even when the entire nation bore a different appellation, separate fraternities distinguished themselves as the tribe of the Bear, the Tortoise, and the Wolf. They did not disdain a reference even to inanimate things. The Black Cauldron was at one time the chief warrior of the Five Nations; and Red Shoes was a person of distinction, well known to Long the traveller. When the chiefs concluded treaties with Europeans, their signature consisted in a picture, often tolerably well executed, of the beast or object after which they chose to be named.

The absence, among these tribes, of any written or even pictorial mode of recording events, was supplied by the memories of their old men, which were so retentive, that a certain writer calls them living books. Their only remembrancer consisted in the wampum belts, of which one was appropriated to each division of a speech or treaty, and had, seemingly, a powerful effect in calling it to recollection. On the close of the transaction, these were deposited as public documents, to be drawn forth on great occasions, when the orators, and even the old women, could repeat verbatim the passage to which each referred. Europeans were thus enabled to collect information concerning the revolutions of different tribes, for several ages preceding their own arrival.

The earliest visitors of the New World, on seeing among the Indians neither priests, temples, idols, nor sacrifices, represented them as a people wholly destitute of religious opinions. Closer inquiry, however, showed that a belief in the spiritual world, however imperfect, had a commanding influence over almost all their actions. Their creed includes even some lofty and pure conceptions. Under the title of the Great Spirit, the Master of Life, the Maker of Heaven and Earth, they distinctly recognise a supreme ruler of the universe, and an arbiter of their destiny. A party of them, when informed by the missionaries of the existence of a being of infinite power, who had created the heavens and the earth, with one consent exclaimed, “Atahocan! Atahocan!” that being the name of their principal deity. According to Long, the Indians among whom he resided ascribe every event, propitious or unfortunate, to the favour or anger of the Master of Life. They address him for their daily subsistence; they believe him to convey to them presence of mind in battle; and amid tortures, they thank him for inspiring them with courage. Yet, though this one elevated and just conception is deeply graven on their minds, it is combined with others which show all the imperfection of unassisted reason in attempting to think rightly on this great subject. It may even be observed, that the term, rendered into our language, “Great Spirit” does not really convey the idea of an immaterial nature. It imports with them merely some being possessed of lofty and mysterious powers, and in this sense is applied to men, and even to animals. The brute creation, which occupies a prominent place in all their ideas, is often viewed by them as invested, to a great extent, with supernatural powers—an extreme absurdity, which, however, they share with the civilized creeds of Egypt and India.

When the missionaries, on their first arrival, attempted to form an idea of the Indian mythology, it appeared to them extremely complicated, more especially because those who attempted to explain it had no fixed opinions. Each man differed from his neighbour, and at another time from himself; and when the discrepancies were pointed out, no attempt was made to reconcile them. The southern tribes, who had a more settled faith, are described by Adair as intoxicated with spiritual pride, and denouncing even their European allies as “the accursed people.” The native Canadian, on the contrary, is said to have been so little tenacious, that he would at any time renounce all his theological errors for a pipe of tobacco, though, as soon as it was smoked, he immediately relapsed. An idea was found prevalent respecting a certain mystical animal called Meson, or Messessagen, who, when the earth was buried in water, had drawn it up and restored it. Others spoke of a contest between the hare, the fox, the beaver, and the seal, for the empire of the world. Among the principal nations of Canada, the hare is thought to have attained a decided preeminence, and hence the Great Spirit and the Great Hare are sometimes used as synonymous terms. What should have raised this creature to such distinction seems rather unaccountable, unless it were that its extreme swiftness might appear something supernatural. Among the Ottawas alone the heavenly bodies become an object of veneration: the sun appears to rank as their supreme deity.

To dive into the abyss of futurity has always been a favourite object of superstition. It has been attempted by various means, but the Indian seeks it chiefly through his dreams, which always bear with him a sacred character. Before engaging in any high undertaking, especially in hunting or war, the dreams of the principal chiefs are carefully watched, and studiously examined; and according to the interpretation their conduct is guided. A whole nation has been set in motion by the sleeping fancies of a single man. Sometimes a person imagines in his sleep that he has been presented with an article of value by another, who then cannot, without impropriety, leave the omen unfulfilled. When Sir William Johnson, during the American war, was negotiating an alliance with a friendly tribe, the chief confidentially disclosed, that, during his slumbers, he had been favoured with a vision of Sir William bestowing upon him the rich laced coat which formed his full dress. The fulfilment of this revelation was very inconvenient; yet, on being assured that it positively occurred, the English commander found it advisable to resign his uniform. Soon after, however, he unfolded to the Indian a dream with which he had himself been favoured, and in which the former was seen presenting him with a large tract of fertile land, most commodiously situated. The native ruler admitted that, since the vision had been vouchsafed, it must be realized, yet earnestly proposed to cease this mutual dreaming, which he found had turned much to his own disadvantage.

The manitou is an object of peculiar veneration; and the fixing upon this guardian power is not only the most important event in the history of a youth, but even constitutes his initiation into active life. As a preliminary, his face is painted black, and he undergoes a severe fast, which is, if possible, prolonged for eight days. This is preparatory to the dream in which he is to behold the idol destined ever after to afford him aid and protection. In this state of excited expectation, and while every nocturnal vision is carefully watched, there seldom fails to occur to his mind something which, as it makes a deep impression, is pronounced his manitou. Most commonly it is a trifling and even fantastic article; the head, beak, or claw of a bird, the hoof of a cow, or even a piece of wood. However, having undergone a thorough perspiration in one of their vapour-baths, he is laid on his back, and a picture of it is drawn upon his breast by needles of fish-bone dipt in vermilion. A good specimen of the original being produced, it is carefully treasured up; and to it he applies in every emergency, hoping that it will inspire his dreams, and secure to him every kind of good fortune. When, however, notwithstanding every means of propitiating its favour, misfortunes befall him, the manitou is considered as having exposed itself to just and serious reproach. He begins with remonstrances, representing all that has been done for it, the disgrace it incurs by not protecting its votary, and finally, the danger that in case of repeated neglect, it may be discarded for another. Nor is this considered merely as an empty threat; for if the manitou is judged incorrigible, it is thrown away, and by means of a fresh course of fasting, dreaming, sweating, and painting, another is installed, from whom better success may be hoped.

The absence of temples, worship, sacrifices, and all the observances to which superstition prompts the untutored mind, is a remarkable circumstance, and, as we have already remarked, led the early visitors to believe that the Indians were strangers to all religious ideas; yet the missionaries found room to suspect that some of their great feasts, in which every thing presented must be eaten, bore an idolatrous character, and were held in honour of the Great Hare. The Ottawas, whose mythological system seems to have been the most complicated, were wont to keep a regular festival to celebrate the beneficence of the sun; on which occasion, the luminary was told that this service was in return for the good hunting he had procured for his people, and as an encouragement to persevere in his friendly cares. They were also observed to erect an idol in the middle of their town, and sacrifice to it; but such ceremonies were by no means general. On first witnessing christian worship, the only idea suggested by it was that of their asking some temporal good, which was either granted or refused. The missionaries mention two Hurons, who arrived from the woods soon after the congregation had assembled. Standing without, they began to speculate what it was the white men were asking, and then whether they were getting it. As the service continued beyond expectation, it was concluded they were _not_ getting it; and as the devotional duties still proceeded, they admired the perseverance with which this rejected suit was urged. At length, when the vesper hymn began, one of the savages observed to the other—“Listen to them now in despair, crying with all their might.”

The grand doctrine of a life beyond the grave, was, among all the tribes of America, most deeply cherished, and most sincerely believed. They had even formed a distinct idea of the region whither they hoped to be transported, and of the new and happier mode of existence, free from those wars, tortures, and cruelties, which throw so dark a shade over their lot upon earth; yet their conceptions on this subject were by no means either exalted or spiritualized. They expected simply a prolongation of their present life, and enjoyments under more favourable circumstances, and with the same objects, furnishing greater choice and abundance. In that brighter land the sun ever shines unclouded, the forests abound with deer, the lakes and rivers with fish—benefits which are farther enhanced in their imagination by a faithful wife and dutiful children. They do not reach it however, till after a journey of several months, and encountering various obstacles—a broad river, a chain of lofty mountains, and the attack of a furious dog. This favoured country lies far in the west, at the remotest boundary of the earth, which is supposed to terminate in a steep precipice, with the ocean rolling beneath. Sometimes, in the too eager pursuit of game, the spirits fall over, and are converted into fishes. The local position of their paradise appears connected with certain obscure intimations received from their wandering neighbours of the Mississippi, the Rocky Mountains, and the distant shores of the Pacific. This system of belief labours under a great defect, inasmuch as it scarcely connects felicity in the future world with virtuous conduct in the present. The one is held to be simply a continuation of the other; and under this impression, the arms, ornaments, and every thing that had contributed to the welfare of the deceased, are interred along with him. This supposed assurance of a future life, so conformable to their gross habits and conceptions, was found by the missionaries a serious obstacle, when they attempted to allure them by the hope of a destiny, purer and higher, indeed, but less accordant with their untutored conceptions. Upon being told that, in the promised world, they would neither hunt, eat, drink, nor marry a wife, many of them declared that, far from endeavouring to reach such an abode, they would consider their arrival there as the greatest calamity. Mention is made of a Huron girl, whom one of the christian ministers was endeavouring to instruct, and whose first question was, what she would find to eat? The answer being “nothing,” she then asked what she would see? and being informed that she would see the Maker of heaven and earth, she expressed herself much at a loss what she could have to say to him. Many not only reject this destiny for themselves, but were indignant at the efforts made to decoy their children after death into so dreary and comfortless a region.

Another sentiment, congenial with that now described, is most deeply rooted in the mind of the Indians—this is reverence for the dead; with which Chateaubriand, though, perhaps, somewhat hastily, considers them more deeply imbued than any other people. During life they are by no means lavish of their expressions of tenderness; but on the approach of the hour of final separation, it is displayed with extraordinary force. When any member of a family becomes seriously ill, all the resources of magic and medicine are exhausted in order to procure his recovery. When the fatal moment arrives, all the kindred burst into loud lamentations, which continue till some person, possessing the requisite authority, desires them to cease. These expressions of grief, however, are renewed for a considerable time, at sunrise and sunset. After three days the funeral takes place, when all the provisions which the family can procure are expended in a feast, to which the neighbours are generally invited; and, although on all solemn occasions it is required that every thing should be eaten, the relations do not partake. These last cut off their hair, cover their heads, paint their faces of a black colour, and continue long to deny themselves every species of amusement. The deceased is then interred with his arms and ornaments, his face painted, and his person attired in the richest robes which they can furnish. It was the opinion of one of the early missionaries, that the chief object of the Hurons, in their traffic with the French, was to procure materials for honouring their dead; and as a proof of this, many of them have been seen shivering, half naked, in the cold, while their hut contained rich robes to be wrapped round them after their decease. The body is placed in the tomb in an upright posture; and skins are carefully spread round it, so that no part may touch the earth. This, however, is by no means the final ceremony, being followed by another far more solemn and singular. Every eighth, tenth, or twelfth year, according to the custom of the different nations, is celebrated the festival of the dead; and, till then, the souls are supposed to hover round their former tenement, and not to depart for their final abode in the west. On this occasion the people march in procession to the places of interment, open the tombs, and, on beholding the mortal remains of their friends, continue sometime fixed in mournful silence. The women then break out into loud cries, and the party begin to collect the bones, removing every remnant of flesh; the remains are then wrapped in fresh and valuable robes, and conveyed, amid continued lamentation, to the family cabin. A feast is then given, followed during several days by dances, games, and prize combats, to which strangers often repair from a great distance. This mode of celebration certainly accords very ill with the sad occasion; yet the Greek and Roman obsequies were solemnized in a similar manner—nay, in many parts of Scotland, till very recently, they were accompanied by festival, and often by revelry. The relics are then carried to the council-house of the nation, where they are hung for exhibition along the walls, with fresh presents destined to be interred along with them. Sometimes they are even displayed from village to village. At length, being deposited in a pit, previously dug in the earth, and lined with the richest furs, they are finally entombed. Tears and lamentations are again lavished, and during a few days, food is brought to the place. The bones of their fathers are considered by the Indians the strongest ties to their native soil; and when calamity forces them to quit it, these mouldering fragments are, if possible, conveyed along with them.