The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents, Vol. 1: Acadia, 1610-1613

Part 18

Chapter 183,331 wordsPublic domain

THERE are two great rivers in New France. One, called by the natives Canada, a name thence extended to the whole country, is now called the river St. Lawrence, and flows in a very broad channel from west to east. The other, named Mississippi, flows from North to South, through vast regions, for the most part still unknown. The rivers of this land are remarkable because in certain places they are precipitated with a great uproar from the higher to the lower levels. The French call those places water-falls. You might justly call them cataracts, such as are famous in the case of the Nile. The water of an entire river often falls in the form of an arch, in such fashion that it is possible to walk dry-shod beneath the stream which rushes overhead. The savages, when they come to such a spot, shoulder their boats, which are constructed of light bark, and carry them, together with the baggage, to the calm portion of the river flowing below. The chief city of new France is called Kebec, and is situated on the St. Lawrence river. The whole country possesses a healthful climate, but is harassed by a cold and long winter. This is caused partly by the frequency of the rivers and lakes; partly by the thickness and great extent of the forests, which diminish the force of the sun's heat; finally, by the abundance of snow with which the land, in its most Northern regions, which lie upon the same parallel as old France, is continually desolated for three or four months. The soil is extremely productive of all sorts of trees and plants, especially where the clearing of the forest has furnished additional space for cultivation. The same quadrupeds are found as in Europe; some, as the moose, are peculiar to the country. The natives call it the "great beast." This name it receives because of the huge size of its body, for it is as large as an ox. Its head resembles that of a mule; its horns, hoofs, and tail, those of a stag. The savages hunt this animal with the aid of dogs; when it is worn out they dispatch it with spears and missiles. If hunting-dogs are lacking, they themselves go in place of them. Indeed, they proceed through the midst of the snow with incredible swiftness; and, in order that the weight of the body may not sink their feet too deeply into the snow, they place beneath their soles, and fasten to their feet, broad pieces of net-work, very similar to those with which players commonly strike the ball. These pieces of net-work, which cover a sufficiently large portion of the surface of the snow, readily support them while running. But the moose, planting their slender legs deeply into the snow, with difficulty extricate themselves. The savages eat its flesh, are clothed with its skin, and are cured by the hoof of its left hind leg. In this hoof there is a certain marvelous and manifold virtue, as is affirmed by the testimony of the most famous physicians. It avails especially against the epilepsy, whether it be applied to the breast, where the heart is throbbing, or whether it be placed in the bezel of a ring, which is worn upon the finger next to the little finger of the left hand; or, finally, if it be also held in the hollow of the left hand, clenched in the fist. Nor does it have less power in the cure of pleurisy, dizziness, and, if we may believe those familiar with it, six hundred other diseases.

Another well-known and common sort of animal there, is the beaver; its skins, which are exchanged for European merchandise, being the basis of almost the entire system of Canadian commerce. Its color resembles that of the chestnut; the shape of its body is like that of a small wether; its legs are short and formed for swimming; its tail, which it uses as a rudder while swimming, is smooth, thick and flat; two teeth, larger than the others, project from its mouth on each side; these, the beavers use like a sword and a saw in cutting down trees when they build their houses, for in the construction of these they exhibit wonderful industry. They locate them on the banks of lakes or rivers; they build walls of logs, placing between them wet and sticky sods in the place of mortar, so that the work can, even with great violence, scarcely be torn apart and destroyed. The entire house is divided into several stories; the lowest is composed of thicker cross-beams, with branches strewn upon them, and provided with a hole or small door through which they can pass into the river whenever they wish; this story extends somewhat above the water of the river, while the others rise higher, into which they retire if the swelling stream submerges the lowest floor. They sleep in one of the upper stories; a soft bed is furnished by dry seaweed and tree moss, with which they protect themselves from the cold; on another floor they have their store-room, and food provided for winter. The building is covered with a dome-shaped roof. Thus they pass the winter, for in summer they enjoy the shady coolness upon the shores, or escape the summer heat by plunging into the water. Often a great colony of many members is lodged in one house. But, if they be incommoded by the narrowness of the place, the younger ones depart of their own accord and construct homes for themselves. Upon the advent of cool weather in autumn, they devote themselves to this task, and lend mutual services in turn, both in cutting and carrying logs, so that many assist at one and the same burden, and thus carry down great branches and logs of forest trees. If they find any river suitable for their purposes, except in having sufficient depth, they build a dam to keep back the water until it rises to the required height. And first, by gnawing them, they fell trees of large size; then they lay them across, from one shore to the other. They construct a double barrier and rampart of logs, obliquely placed, leaving between them a space of about six feet, which they so ingeniously fill in with stones, clay, and branches that one would expect nothing better from the most skillful architect. The length of the structure is greater or less, according to the size of the stream which they wish to restrain. Dams of this kind a fifth of a mile long are sometimes found. But, if the river swell more than is safe, they break open some part of the structure, and let through as much water as seems sufficient.

As the forests abound in wild beasts, so the rivers teem with fish. There is one in the lake of the Iroquois,[67] which is not mentioned by early authors. It is called by the natives "Causar," and is eight feet long, sometimes ten. It is as thick as the human thigh; it is dun-colored, approaching white; it bristles all over with scales, so hard and so firmly set together that they turn the edge of a knife or the point of a spear. The head is large, and protected by an exceedingly hard skull, like a helmet. Hence, the name of "armored fish" has been given it by the French. It carries on perpetual war with, and feeds upon, other fishes. For a weapon it carries an immense beak, of the length of a man's arm and furnished with a double row of teeth. With this hunting-spear it not only devours other fishes, but also, whenever it wishes to vary its diet, deceives and ensnares birds. For this latter purpose it hides itself among the sedge; it projects its beak from the water and opens it slightly. It thus remains motionless until the birds approach and thoughtlessly perch upon the beak, deeming it a reed or a bush; then the treacherous ensnarer seizes the feet of the unfortunate birds by closing its beak, and, dragging them into the water, devours them.[68]

The birds are fully as abundant as the fishes. During certain months of the year the pigeons sally forth from the woods into the open country in such great numbers that they overload the branches of the trees. When they have settled upon the trees at night they are easily captured, and the savages heap their tables with royal abundance. Besides this, in the huge gulf into which the river saint Lawrence flows may be seen a small island, or rather a double rock; they call it the isle of birds.[69] For so many congregate there from the neighboring ocean that it is impossible to count their numbers. The natives make an easy prey of them with clubs, or by trampling them under foot, and bring back their canoes filled with sumptuous food acquired without price. [345] Everywhere may be seen, sporting in the water, geese, ducks, herons, cranes, swans, coots and other birds whose habit it is to seek their living from the waves. A certain peculiarity attaches to one, which is about the size of a cock; its wings are black on the outside and white beneath. One of its feet is armed with hooked claws, the other has webbed toes, like those of a duck; with the latter it swims, with the former it seizes and disembowels fishes.

CANADENSIUM DOMUS & RES FAMILIARIS; MORBI; ÆGRORUM CURA & MORTUORUM.

JAM, si mores & indolem gentis requiras, partim vagi degunt, in silvis per hyemem, quò venationis uberioris vocat spes; æstate, ad amnium ripas, ubi præbet facilem annonam piscatus: aliqui pagos incolunt. Casas fabricantur infixis humi perticis: latera corticibus intexunt; pellibus, musco, ramis operiunt fastigia. In media casa focus: in summo tecto foramen, emissarium fumi. Is ægre eluctatus totam, ut plurimum, casam sic opplet, ut coactis habitare in hoc fumo advenis sæpe oculorum acies obtundatur, & hebescat: barbari, durum genus & his assuetum incommodis, rident. Domesticæ rei cura, & quidquid in familia laboris est, imponitur feminis. Illæ domos figunt, ac refigunt; aquam, & ligna devehunt, cibos apparant: vicem & locum mancipiorum, opificum, & jumentorum, implent. Venationis & belli cura, virorum est. Hinc gentis solitudo, & paucitas. Mulieres enim, ceteroquin haud infecundæ, his districtæ laboribus, neque maturos edere queunt fetus, neque alere jam editos: itaque aut abortum patiuntur, aut partus recentes destituunt, aquationi, lignationi, ceterisque operibus intentæ; vix ut trigesimus quisque infans adolescat. Accedit rei medicæ inscitia, cujus ignoratio facit ut è morbis paulo gravioribus raro emergant.

Duos maximè fontes morborum statuunt: unum ex ipsa ægrotantis mente ortum, quæ desideret quidpiam, ac tandiu corpus ægrum vexet, dum re desiderata potiatur. Putant enim inesse in hominum unoquoque innata quædam desideria, sæpe ipsis ignota, quibus singulorum felicitas contineatur. Ad ejusmodi desideria & innatas appetitiones cognoscendas adhibent hariolos, quibus hanc divinitus concessam facultatem arbitrantur, ut animorum intimos recessus pervideant. Illi, quodcumque primum occurrit, aut ex quo fieri quæstum aliquem posse suspicantur, ab ægro desiderari pronunciant. Nec dubitant parentes, amici, & consanguinei ægrotantis, quidquid illud sit, quantivis pretii, comparare ac largiri ægro, nunquam postea reposcendum. Ille dono fruitur, & lucri partem hariolis aspergit; ac sæpe postridie vita cedit. Vulgo tamen relevantur ægroti, quippe levibus tentati morbis: nam in gravioribus timidiores sunt isti præstigiatores, negantque inveniri posse quid ægrotus desideret: tunc eum depositum conclamant, auctoresque sunt consanguineis ut hominem tollant è medio. Ita longiore morbo vexatos necant, aut senio fessos; eamque caritatem summam interpretantur, quia mors ærumnis languentium finem ponit. Eandem benevolentiam adhibent erga pueros parentibus orbatos, quos nullos esse malunt, quam miseros. Alterum fontem morborum esse censent veneficorum occultas artes, & præstigias, quas ridiculis cærimoniis conantur averruncare. Sæpe noxios humores ejiciunt sudando. Certum casæ locum corticibus includunt, ac tegunt pellibus, ne qua possit aer aspirare. Intro congerunt lapides deustos & igne multo saturos. Subeunt nudi & brachia cantitantes jactant. Sed, quod mireris, ab his thermis egressi & sudore diffluentes, hyeme perfrigida, in lacum aut amnem se conjiciunt, de pleuritide securi.

Mortuorum cadavera nunquam efferunt per casæ januam, sed per eam partem, in quam conversus eger exspiravit. Animam putant evolare per camini spiraculum; ac ne moras trahat, casæ pristinæ desiderio, neu puerulorum aliquem discedens afflet, hoc afflatu videlicet moriturum, ut putant; crebro fuste tundunt parietes tugurii, ut eam citius exire compellant. Immortalem esse arbitrantur. Ne porro emoriatur fame, magnam vim ciborum infodiunt cum corpore; vestes, item, ollas, variamque supellectilem, magno sumptu, & multorum annorum labore conquisitam, ut iis utatur, inquiunt, ac decentius versetur in regno mortuorum. Sepulcra nobilium exstant paulum ab humo: iis perticas in morem pyramidis compactas imponunt: arcum addunt, sagittas, clypeum, & alia militiæ decora: feminarum vero tumulis, torques & monilia. Infantium corpora sepeliunt propter viam, ut eorum anima, quam ab ipsorum corporibus abire longius non putant, illabatur in prætereuntis alicujus feminæ sinum, & adhuc informem animare fetum possit. In luctu vultum inficiunt fuligine. Moniti de funere affines, vicini, & amici concurrunt in funestum tugurium. Unus aliquis, si mortui conditio ferat, verba facit, neque rationem ullam ex iis prætermittit, quæ ad leniendam ægritudinem à dicendi magistris afferri solent. Excurrit in demortui laudes: hominem eum natum fuisse admonet, atque adeo morti obnoxium: qui casus emendari nequeant, fieri patientia leviores; alia id genus in eandem sententiam edisserit. Tertio die funus ducitur. Epulum funebre apponitur toti pago, singulis suam symbolam, nec malignè, conferentibus. Hujus epuli causas afferunt maximè tres: primam, ut communem mærorem leniant: alteram, ut qui amici peregrè ad funus veniunt, accipiantur honestius: tertiam, ut gratificentur extincti Manibus, quem ea liberalitate delectari existimant, & appositis etiam dapibus pasci. Peracto convivio præfectus funeris, quem in singulis familiis clarioribus, certum atque insignem habent, adesse tempus exequiarum proclamat. Omnes continuo lamentari, & ululare. Effertur cadaver propinquorum humeris, intectum fibrinis pellibus, & in feretro, è corticibus juncisve confecto compositum, collectis in glomum artubus, ut eo modo terræ mandetur, inquiunt, quo in alvo materna olim jacuit. Deponitur feretrum in constituto loco, munera quæ quisque offert mortuo, præfiguntur perticis: & appellantur illorum auctores à funeris præfecto: instauratur planctus; denique juvenes ludicro certamine inter se dimicant.

Majori sepeliuntur apparatu & luctu, qui aquis obruti perierunt. Nam eorum cadavera laniantur: carnium pars cum visceribus in ignem projicitur. Id sacrificii quoddam genus est, quo placare coelum contendunt. Iratum enim esse genti non dubitant, cum in undis quispiam extinguitur: ac si quid rite atque ordine peractum in istis funeribus non fuerit, huic piaculo calamitates omnes, quibus postea conflictantur, acceptas ferunt. Indulgent luctui per annum integrum. Primis diebus decem jacent humi, diu noctuque in ventrem proni: nefas tunc vocem ullam, nisi quæ dolorem significet, mittere; aut accedere ad ignem, aut conviviis interesse. Anno reliquo luctus continuatur; at levius. Omittuntur omnia urbanitatis officia, colloquia cum vicinis, congressus amicorum; ac si conjugem amiserint; coelibes, donec annus fluxerit, perstant. Post octavum aut decimum quemque annum Hurones, quæ natio latè patet, omnia cadavera certum in locum ex omnibus pagis deportant, & in foveam prægrandem conjiciunt. Eum diem Mortuorum vocant. Is ubi de procerum sententia constitutus est, eruunt corpora sepulcris; alia jam consumpta, & ossibus vix hærentia; alia putri carne leviter amicta: alia scatentia foedis vermibus, & graviter olentia. Ossa, dissoluta in saccos abdunt: cadavera nondum dissuta componunt in sarcophagis, & supplicantium ritu deferunt in destinatum locum, alto silentio, & composito gradu procedentes, non sine suspiriis, & lamentabili eiulatu. Ne vero memoria nobilium, & arte præsertim bellica insignium, qui prole carent, intercidat, eligunt aliquem ætate ac robore florentem, cui demortui nomen imponunt. Ille militum statim delectum habet, ac bellum capessit, ut præclaro quopiam edito facinore, probet se non tantum nominis, sed etiam virtutis ejus, cui substituitur, heredem esse. Inferioris notæ nomina æterno silentio damnant. Itaque simul ac in pago quispiam è vita cessit, ejus nomen alta voce pronunciatur per omnes casas, ne quis illud temere usurpet. Quod si mortuum tamen appellare necesse fuerit, utuntur verborum circuitione, & præfantur quidpiam, quo mortis ominosa [346] memoria leniatur. Idque si omittatur, accipiunt in gravem contumeliam: neque atrociori maledicto vulnerari filium aut parentem posse putant, quam si huic filius, illi parens, mortuus exprobretur.

HOMES AND HOUSEHOLD ECONOMY OF THE CANADIANS; DISEASES; TREATMENT OF THE SICK AND OF THE DEAD.

NOW, if you inquire concerning the customs and character of this people, I will reply that a part of them are nomads, wandering during the winter in the woods, whither the hope of better hunting calls them--in the summer, on the shores of the rivers, where they easily obtain their food by fishing; while others inhabit villages. They construct their huts by fixing poles in the ground; they cover the sides with bark, the roofs with hides, moss and branches. In the middle of the hut is the hearth, from which the smoke escapes through an opening at the peak of the roof. As the smoke passes out with difficulty, it usually fills the whole hut, so that strangers compelled to live in these cabins suffer injury and weakening of the eyes; the savages, a coarse race, and accustomed to these discomforts, ridicule this. The care of household affairs, and whatever work there may be in the family, are placed upon the women. They build and repair the wigwams, carry water and wood, and prepare the food; their duties and position are those of slaves, laborers and beasts of burden. The pursuits of hunting and war belong to the men. Thence arise the isolation and numerical weakness of the race. For the women, although naturally prolific, cannot, on account of their occupation in these labors, either bring forth fully-developed offspring, or properly nourish them after they have been brought forth; therefore they either suffer abortion, or forsake their new-born children, while engaged in carrying water, procuring wood and other tasks, so that scarcely one infant in thirty survives until youth. To this there is added their ignorance of medicine, because of which they seldom recover from illnesses which are at all severe.

They believe that there are two main sources of disease: one of these is in the mind of the patient himself, which desires something, and will vex the body of the sick man until it possesses the thing required. For they think that there are in every man certain inborn desires, often unknown to themselves, upon which the happiness of individuals depends. For the purpose of ascertaining desires and innate appetites of this character, they summon soothsayers, who, as they think, have a divinely-imparted power to look into the inmost recesses of the mind. These men declare that whatever first occurs to them, or something from which they suspect some gain can be derived, is desired by the sick person. Thereupon the parents, friends, and relatives of the patient do not hesitate to procure and lavish upon him whatever it may be, however expensive, a return of which is never thereafter to be sought. The patient enjoys the gift, divides a portion of it among the soothsayers, and often on the next day departs from life. Commonly, however, the sick recover, plainly because their illnesses are slight; for, in the case of more severe complaints, these soothsayers are more cautious, and deny the possibility of ascertaining what the patient desires; then they bewail him whom they have given up, and cause the relatives to put him out of the way. Thus they kill those afflicted with protracted illness, or exhausted by old age, and consider this the greatest kindness, because death puts an end to the sufferings of the sick. They display the same benevolence towards children deprived of their parents, whom they prefer to see dead rather than to see them miserable. They believe that another source of disease is the hidden arts and the charms of sorcerers, which they seek to avert by means of absurd ceremonies. Often they expel noxious humors by sweating. They inclose a certain portion of the hut with pieces of bark and cover it with hides, in order that no air may enter. Within they pile stones heated to a high temperature. They enter naked and toss their arms while singing. But, strange to say, they will leave this heat, dripping with perspiration, and in the very coldest part of winter cast themselves into a lake or river, careless of pleurisy.