The intellectual character of the American savage presents some very
striking peculiarities. Considering his unfavourable condition, he of
all other human beings might seem doomed to make the nearest approach
to the brute; while, in point of fact, without any aid from letters
or study, many of the higher faculties of his mind are developed in
a very remarkable degree. He displays a decided superiority over the
uninstructed labourer in a civilized community, whose mental energies
are benumbed amid the daily round of mechanical occupation. The former
spends a great part of his life in arduous enterprises, where much
contrivance is requisite, and whence he must often extricate himself
by presence of mind and ingenuity. His senses, particularly those of
seeing and smelling, have acquired by practice an almost preternatural
acuteness. He can trace an animal or a foe by indications which to a
European eye would be wholly imperceptible; and in his wanderings he
gathers a minute acquaintance with the geography of the countries which
he traverses. He can even draw a rude outline of them by applying a
mixture of charcoal and grease to prepared skins, and on seeing a regular
map he soon understands its construction, and readily finds out places.
His facility in discovering the most direct way to spots situated at the
distance of hundreds of miles, and known perhaps only by the report of
his countrymen, is truly astonishing. It has been ascribed by some to a
mysterious and supernatural instinct, but it appears to be achieved by
merely observing the different aspect of the trees or shrubs when exposed
to the north or the south, as also the position of the sun, which he can
point out, although hidden by clouds. Even where there is a beaten track,
if at all circuitous, he strikes directly through the woods, and reaches
his destination by the straightest possible line.
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, to 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 others, 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 best
speakers are despatched to conduct their negotiations, the object of
which is unfolded in studied harangues. 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 caldron is to begin a war; to throw the hatchet to the sky
is to wage open and terrible war; to take off the caldron 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 caldron 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 afterward 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
under ground 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-caldron, 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 Caldron 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.