The Jesuits in North America in the Seventeenth Century
by Francis Parkman
France and England
in North America
A Series
of Historical Narratives
Part Second
BOSTON:
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.
1867.
Entered According to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by
Francis Parkman,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
Massachusetts.
CAMBRIDGE:
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY JOHN WILSON AND SON.
PREFACE.
Few passages of history are more striking than those which record the
efforts of the earlier French Jesuits to convert the Indians. Full as
they are of dramatic and philosophic interest, bearing strongly on the
political destinies of America, and closely involved with the history of
its native population, it is wonderful that they have been left so long
in obscurity. While the infant colonies of England still clung feebly to
the shores of the Atlantic, events deeply ominous to their future were
in progress, unknown to them, in the very heart of the continent. It
will be seen, in the sequel of this volume, that civil and religious
liberty found strange allies in this Western World.
The sources of information concerning the early Jesuits of New France
are very copious. During a period of forty years, the Superior of the
Mission sent, every summer, long and detailed reports, embodying or
accompanied by the reports of his subordinates, to the Provincial of the
Order at Paris, where they were annually published, in duodecimo
volumes, forming the remarkable series known as the Jesuit Relations.
Though the productions of men of scholastic training, they are simple
and often crude in style, as might be expected of narratives hastily
written in Indian lodges or rude mission-houses in the forest, amid
annoyances and interruptions of all kinds. In respect to the value of
their contents, they are exceedingly unequal. Modest records of
marvellous adventures and sacrifices, and vivid pictures of forest-life,
alternate with prolix and monotonous details of the conversion of
individual savages, and the praiseworthy deportment of some exemplary
neophyte. With regard to the condition and character of the primitive
inhabitants of North America, it is impossible to exaggerate their value
as an authority. I should add, that the closest examination has left me
no doubt that these missionaries wrote in perfect good faith, and that
the Relations hold a high place as authentic and trustworthy historical
documents. They are very scarce, and no complete collection of them
exists in America. The entire series was, however, republished, in 1858,
by the Canadian government, in three large octavo volumes. [1]
[1] Both editions--the old and the new--are cited in the following
pages. Where the reference is to the old edition, it is indicated by the
name of the publisher (Cramoisy), appended to the citation, in brackets.
In extracts given in the notes, the antiquated orthography and
accentuation are preserved.
These form but a part of the surviving writings of the French-American
Jesuits. Many additional reports, memoirs, journals, and letters,
official and private, have come down to us; some of which have recently
been printed, while others remain in manuscript. Nearly every prominent
actor in the scenes to be described has left his own record of events in
which he bore part, in the shape of reports to his Superiors or letters
to his friends. I have studied and compared these authorities, as well
as a great mass of collateral evidence, with more than usual care,
striving to secure the greatest possible accuracy of statement, and to
reproduce an image of the past with photographic clearness and truth.
The introductory chapter of the volume is independent of the rest; but a
knowledge of the facts set forth in it is essential to the full
understanding of the narrative which follows.
In the collection of material, I have received valuable aid from Mr. J.
G. Shea, Rev. Felix Martin, S.J., the Abbés Laverdière and H. R.
Casgrain, Dr. J. C. Taché, and the late Jacques Viger, Esq.
I propose to devote the next volume of this series to the discovery and
occupation by the French of the Valley of the Mississippi.
Boston, 1st May, 1867
Contents
The Jesuits in North America
PREFACE.
INTRODUCTION.
NATIVE TRIBES.
Divisions • The Algonquins • The Hurons • Their Houses • Fortifications
• Habits • Arts • Women • Trade • Festivities • Medicine • The Tobacco
Nation • The Neutrals • The Eries • The Andastes • The Iroquois • Indian
Social and Political Organization • Iroquois Institutions, Customs, and
Character • Indian Religion and Superstitions • The Indian Mind
CHAPTER I. 1634.
NOTRE-DAME DES ANGES.
Quebec in 1634 • Father Le Jeune • The Mission-House • Its Domestic
Economy • The Jesuits and their Designs
CHAPTER II.
LOYOLA AND THE JESUITS.
Conversion of Loyola • Foundation of the Society of Jesus • Preparation
of the Novice • Characteristics of the Order • The Canadian Jesuits
CHAPTER III. 1632, 1633.
PAUL LE JEUNE.
Le Jeune's Voyage • His First Pupils • His Studies • His Indian Teacher
• Winter at the Mission-House • Le Jeune's School • Reinforcements
CHAPTER IV. 1633, 1634.
LE JEUNE AND THE HUNTERS.
Le Jeune joins the Indians • The First Encampment • The Apostate •
Forest Life in Winter • The Indian Hut • The Sorcerer • His Persecution
of the Priest • Evil Company • Magic • Incantations • Christmas •
Starvation • Hopes of Conversion • Backsliding • Peril and Escape of Le
Jeune • His Return
CHAPTER V. 1633, 1634.
THE HURON MISSION.
Plans of Conversion • Aims and Motives • Indian Diplomacy • Hurons at
Quebec • Councils • The Jesuit Chapel • Le Borgne • The Jesuits Thwarted
• Their Perseverance • The Journey to the Hurons • Jean de Brébeuf • The
Mission Begun
CHAPTER VI. 1634, 1635.
BRÉBEUF AND HIS ASSOCIATES.
The Huron Mission-House • Its Inmates • Its Furniture • Its Guests • The
Jesuit as a Teacher • As an Engineer • Baptisms • Huron Village Life •
Festivities and Sorceries • The Dream Feast • The Priests accused of
Magic • The Drought and the Red Cross
CHAPTER VII. 1636, 1637.
THE FEAST OF THE DEAD.
Huron Graves • Preparation for the Ceremony • Disinterment • The
Mourning • The Funeral March • The Great Sepulchre • Funeral Games •
Encampment of the Mourners • Gifts • Harangues • Frenzy of the Crowd •
The Closing Scene • Another Rite • The Captive Iroquois • The Sacrifice.
CHAPTER VIII. 1636, 1637.
THE HURON AND THE JESUIT.
Enthusiasm for the Mission • Sickness of the Priests • The Pest among
the Hurons • The Jesuit on his Rounds • Efforts at Conversion • Priests
and Sorcerers • The Man-Devil • The Magician's Prescription • Indian
Doctors and Patients • Covert Baptisms • Self-Devotion of the Jesuits
CHAPTER IX. 1637.
CHARACTER OF THE CANADIAN JESUITS.
Jean de Brébeuf • Charles Garnier • Joseph Marie Chaumonot • Noël
Chabanel • Isaac Jogues • Other Jesuits • Nature of their Faith •
Supernaturalism • Visions • Miracles
CHAPTER X. 1637-1640.
PERSECUTION.
Ossossané • The New Chapel • A Triumph of the Faith • The Nether Powers
• Signs of a Tempest • Slanders • Rage against the Jesuits • Their
Boldness and Persistency • Nocturnal Council • Danger of the Priests •
Brébeuf's Letter • Narrow Escapes • Woes and Consolations
CHAPTER XI. 1638-1640.
PRIEST AND PAGAN.
Du Peron's Journey • Daily Life of the Jesuits • Their Missionary
Excursions • Converts at Ossossané • Machinery of Conversion •
Conditions of Baptism • Backsliders • The Converts and their Countrymen
• The Cannibals at St. Joseph
CHAPTER XII. 1639, 1640.
THE TOBACCO NATION--THE NEUTRALS.
A Change of Plan • Sainte Marie • Mission of the Tobacco Nation • Winter
Journeying • Reception of the Missionaries • Superstitious Terrors •
Peril of Garnier and Jogues • Mission of the Neutrals • Huron Intrigues
• Miracles • Fury of the Indians • Intervention of Saint Michael •
Return to Sainte Marie • Intrepidity of the Priests • Their Mental
Exaltation
CHAPTER XIII. 1636-1646.
QUEBEC AND ITS TENANTS.
The New Governor • Edifying Examples • Le Jeune's Correspondents • Rank
and Devotion • Nuns • Priestly Authority • Condition of Quebec • The
Hundred Associates • Church Discipline • Plays • Fireworks • Processions
• Catechizing • Terrorism • Pictures • The Converts • The Society of
Jesus • The Foresters
CHAPTER XIV. 1636-1652.
DEVOTEES AND NUNS.
The Huron Seminary • Madame de la Peltrie • Her Pious Schemes • Her Sham
Marriage • She visits the Ursulines of Tours • Marie de Saint Bernard •
Marie de l'Incarnation • Her Enthusiasm • Her Mystical Marriage • Her
Dejection • Her Mental Conflicts • Her Vision • Made Superior of the
Ursulines • The Hôtel-Dieu • The Voyage to Canada • Sillery • Labors and
Sufferings of the Nuns • Character of Marie de l'Incarnation • Of Madame
de la Peltrie
CHAPTER XV. 1636-1642.
VILLEMARIE DE MONTREAL.
Dauversiére and the Voice from Heaven • Abbé Olier • Their Schemes • The
Society of Notre-Dame de Montreal • Maisonneuve • Devout Ladies •
Mademoiselle Mance • Marguerite Bourgeoys • The Montrealists at Quebec •
Jealousy • Quarrels • Romance and Devotion • Embarkation • Foundation of
Montreal
CHAPTER XVI. 1641-1644.
ISAAC JOGUES.
The Iroquois War • Jogues • His Capture • His Journey to the Mohawks •
Lake George • The Mohawk Towns • The Missionary Tortured • Death of
Goupil • Misery of Jogues • The Mohawk "Babylon" • Fort Orange • Escape
of Jogues • Manhattan • The Voyage to France • Jogues among his Brethren
• He returns to Canada
CHAPTER XVII. 1641-1646.
THE IROQUOIS--BRESSANI--DE NOUË.
War • Distress and Terror • Richelieu • Battle • Ruin of Indian Tribes •
Mutual Destruction • Iroquois and Algonquin • Atrocities • Frightful
Position of the French • Joseph Bressani • His Capture • His Treatment •
His Escape • Anne de Nouë • His Nocturnal Journey • His Death
CHAPTER XVIII. 1642-1644.
VILLEMARIE.
Infancy of Montreal • The Flood • Vow of Maisonneuve • Pilgrimage •
D'Ailleboust • The Hôtel-Dieu • Piety • Propagandism • War • Hurons and
Iroquois • Dogs • Sally of the French • Battle • Exploit of Maisonneuve
CHAPTER XIX. 1644, 1645.
PEACE.
Iroquois Prisoners • Piskaret • His Exploits • More Prisoners • Iroquois
Embassy • The Orator • The Great Council • Speeches of Kiotsaton •
Muster of Savages • Peace Confirmed
CHAPTER XX. 1645, 1646.
THE PEACE BROKEN.
Uncertainties • The Mission of Jogues • He reaches the Mohawks • His
Reception • His Return • His Second Mission • Warnings of Danger • Rage
of the Mohawks • Murder of Jogues
CHAPTER XXI. 1646, 1647.
ANOTHER WAR.
Mohawk Inroads • The Hunters of Men • The Captive Converts • The Escape
of Marie • Her Story • The Algonquin Prisoner's Revenge • Her Flight •
Terror of the Colonists • Jesuit Intrepidity
CHAPTER XXII. 1645-1651.
PRIEST AND PURITAN.
Miscou • Tadoussac • Journeys of De Quen • Druilletes • His Winter with
the Montagnais • Influence of the Missions • The Abenaquis • Druilletes
on the Kennebec • His Embassy to Boston • Gibbons • Dudley • Bradford •
Eliot • Endicott • French and Puritan Colonization • Failure of
Druilletes's Embassy • New Regulations • New-Year's Day at Quebec.
CHAPTER XXIII. 1645-1648.
A DOOMED NATION.
Indian Infatuation • Iroquois and Huron • Huron Triumphs • The Captive
Iroquois • His Ferocity and Fortitude • Partisan Exploits • Diplomacy •
The Andastes • The Huron Embassy • New Negotiations • The Iroquois
Ambassador • His Suicide • Iroquois Honor
CHAPTER XXIV. 1645-1648.
THE HURON CHURCH.
Hopes of the Mission • Christian and Heathen • Body and Soul • Position
of Proselytes • The Huron Girl's Visit to Heaven • A Crisis • Huron
Justice • Murder and Atonement • Hopes and Fears
CHAPTER XXV. 1648, 1649.
SAINTE MARIE.
The Centre of the Missions • Fort • Convent • Hospital • Caravansary •
Church • The Inmates of Sainte Marie • Domestic Economy • Missions • A
Meeting of Jesuits • The Dead Missionary
CHAPTER XXVI. 1648.
ANTOINE DANIEL.
Huron Traders • Battle at Three Rivers • St. Joseph • Onset of the
Iroquois • Death of Daniel • The Town Destroyed
CHAPTER XXVII. 1649.
RUIN OF THE HURONS.
St. Louis on Fire • Invasion • St. Ignace captured • Brébeuf and
Lalemant • Battle at St. Louis • Sainte Marie threatened • Renewed
Fighting • Desperate Conflict • A Night of Suspense • Panic among the
Victors • Burning of St. Ignace • Retreat of the Iroquois
CHAPTER XXVIII. 1649.
THE MARTYRS.
The Ruins of St. Ignace • The Relics found • Brébeuf at the Stake • His
Unconquerable Fortitude • Lalemant • Renegade Hurons • Iroquois
Atrocities • Death of Brébeuf • His Character • Death of Lalemant
CHAPTER XXIX. 1649, 1650.
THE SANCTUARY.
Dispersion of the Hurons • Sainte Marie abandoned • Isle St. Joseph •
Removal of the Mission • The New Fort • Misery of the Hurons • Famine •
Epidemic • Employments of the Jesuits
CHAPTER XXX. 1649.
GARNIER--CHABANEL.
The Tobacco Missions • St. Jean attacked • Death of Garnier • The
Journey of Chabanel • His Death • Garreau and Grelon.
CHAPTER XXXI. 1650-1652.
THE HURON MISSION ABANDONED.
Famine and the Tomahawk • A New Asylum • Voyage of the Refugees to
Quebec • Meeting with Bressani • Desperate Courage of the Iroquois •
Inroads and Battles • Death of Buteux
CHAPTER XXXII. 1650-1866.
THE LAST OF THE HURONS.
Fate of the Vanquished • The Refugees of St. Jean Baptiste and St.
Michel • The Tobacco Nation and its Wanderings • The Modern Wyandots •
The Biter Bit • The Hurons at Quebec • Notre-Dame de Lorette.
CHAPTER XXXIII. 1650-1670.
THE DESTROYERS.
Iroquois Ambition • Its Victims • The Fate of the Neutrals • The Fate of
the Eries • The War with the Andastes • Supremacy of the Iroquois
CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE END.
Failure of the Jesuits • What their Success would have involved • Future
of the Mission
INDEX.
APPENDIX.
The Jesuits in North America
in the Seventeenth Century
by Francis Parkman
INTRODUCTION.
NATIVE TRIBES.
Divisions • The Algonquins • The Hurons • Their Houses • Fortifications
• Habits • Arts • Women • Trade • Festivities • Medicine • The Tobacco
Nation • The Neutrals • The Eries • The Andastes • The Iroquois • Indian
Social and Political Organization • Iroquois Institutions, Customs, and
Character • Indian Religion and Superstitions • The Indian Mind
America, when it became known to Europeans, was, as it had long been, a
scene of wide-spread revolution. North and South, tribe was giving place
to tribe, language to language; for the Indian, hopelessly unchanging in
respect to individual and social development, was, as regarded tribal
relations and local haunts, mutable as the wind. In Canada and the
northern section of the United States, the elements of change were
especially active. The Indian population which, in 1535, Cartier found
at Montreal and Quebec, had disappeared at the opening of the next
century, and another race had succeeded, in language and customs widely
different; while, in the region now forming the State of New York, a
power was rising to a ferocious vitality, which, but for the presence of
Europeans, would probably have subjected, absorbed, or exterminated
every other Indian community east of the Mississippi and north of the
Ohio.
The vast tract of wilderness from the Mississippi to the Atlantic, and
from the Carolinas to Hudson's Bay, was divided between two great
families of tribes, distinguished by a radical difference of language. A
part of Virginia and of Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Southeastern New York,
New England, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and Lower Canada were occupied,
so far as occupied at all, by tribes speaking various Algonquin
languages and dialects. They extended, moreover, along the shores of the
Upper Lakes, and into the dreary Northern wastes beyond. They held
Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois, and Indiana, and detached bands ranged
the lonely hunting-ground of Kentucky. [1]
[1] The word Algonquin is here used in its broadest signification. It
was originally applied to a group of tribes north of the River St.
Lawrence. The difference of language between the original Algonquins and
the Abenaquis of New England, the Ojibwas of the Great Lakes, or the
Illinois of the West, corresponded to the difference between French and
Italian, or Italian and Spanish. Each of these languages, again, had its
dialects, like those of different provinces of France.
Like a great island in the midst of the Algonquins lay the country of
tribes speaking the generic tongue of the Iroquois. The true Iroquois,
or Five Nations, extended through Central New York, from the Hudson to
the Genesee. Southward lay the Andastes, on and near the Susquehanna;
westward, the Eries, along the southern shore of Lake Erie, and the
Neutral Nation, along its northern shore from Niagara towards the
Detroit; while the towns of the Hurons lay near the lake to which they
have left their name. [2]
[2] To the above general statements there was, in the first half of the
seventeenth century, but one exception worth notice. A detached branch
of the Dahcotah stock, the Winnebago, was established south of Green
Bay, on Lake Michigan, in the midst of Algonquins; and small Dahcotah
bands had also planted themselves on the eastern side of the
Mississippi, nearly in the same latitude.
There was another branch of the Iroquois in the Carolinas, consisting of
the Tuscaroras and kindred bands. In 1715 they were joined to the Five
Nations.
Of the Algonquin populations, the densest, despite a recent epidemic
which had swept them off by thousands, was in New England. Here were
Mohicans, Pequots, Narragansetts, Wampanoags, Massachusetts, Penacooks,
thorns in the side of the Puritan. On the whole, these savages were
favorable specimens of the Algonquin stock, belonging to that section of
it which tilled the soil, and was thus in some measure spared the
extremes of misery and degradation to which the wandering hunter tribes
were often reduced. They owed much, also, to the bounty of the sea, and
hence they tended towards the coast; which, before the epidemic,
Champlain and Smith had seen at many points studded with wigwams and
waving with harvests of maize. Fear, too, drove them eastward; for the
Iroquois pursued them with an inveterate enmity. Some paid yearly
tribute to their tyrants, while others were still subject to their
inroads, flying in terror at the sound of the Mohawk war-cry. Westward,
the population thinned rapidly; northward, it soon disappeared. Northern
New Hampshire, the whole of Vermont, and Western Massachusetts had no
human tenants but the roving hunter or prowling warrior.
We have said that this group of tribes was relatively very populous; yet
it is more than doubtful whether all of them united, had union been
possible, could have mustered eight thousand fighting men. To speak
further of them is needless, for they were not within the scope of the
Jesuit labors. The heresy of heresies had planted itself among them; and
it was for the apostle Eliot, not the Jesuit, to essay their conversion.
[3]
[3] These Indians, the Armouchiquois of the old French writers, were in
a state of chronic war with the tribes of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia.
Champlain, on his voyage of 1603, heard strange accounts of them. The
following is literally rendered from the first narrative of that heroic,
but credulous explorer.
"They are savages of shape altogether monstrous: for their heads are
small, their bodies short, and their arms thin as a skeleton, as are
also their thighs; but their legs are stout and long, and all of one
size, and, when they are seated on their heels, their knees rise more
than half a foot above their heads, which seems a thing strange and
against Nature. Nevertheless, they are active and bold, and they have
the best country on all the coast towards Acadia."--Des Sauvages, f. 34.
This story may match that of the great city of Norembega, on the
Penobscot, with its population of dwarfs, as related by Jean Alphonse.
Landing at Boston, three years before a solitude, let the traveller push
northward, pass the River Piscataqua and the Penacooks, and cross the
River Saco. Here, a change of dialect would indicate a different tribe,
or group of tribes. These were the Abenaquis, found chiefly along the
course of the Kennebec and other rivers, on whose banks they raised
their rude harvests, and whose streams they ascended to hunt the moose
and bear in the forest desert of Northern Maine, or descended to fish in
the neighboring sea. [4]
[4] The Tarratines of New-England writers were the Abenaquis, or a
portion of them.
Crossing the Penobscot, one found a visible descent in the scale of
humanity. Eastern Maine and the whole of New Brunswick were occupied by
a race called Etchemins, to whom agriculture was unknown, though the
sea, prolific of fish, lobsters, and seals, greatly lightened their
miseries. The Souriquois, or Micmacs, of Nova Scotia, closely resembled
them in habits and condition. From Nova Scotia to the St. Lawrence,
there was no population worthy of the name. From the Gulf of St.
Lawrence to Lake Ontario, the southern border of the great river had no
tenants but hunters. Northward, between the St. Lawrence and Hudson's
Bay, roamed the scattered hordes of the Papinachois, Bersiamites, and
others, included by the French under the general name of Montagnais.
When, in spring, the French trading-ships arrived and anchored in the
port of Tadoussac, they gathered from far and near, toiling painfully
through the desolation of forests, mustering by hundreds at the point of
traffic, and setting up their bark wigwams along the strand of that wild
harbor. They were of the lowest Algonquin type. Their ordinary
sustenance was derived from the chase; though often, goaded by deadly
famine, they would subsist on roots, the bark and buds of trees, or the
foulest offal; and in extremity, even cannibalism was not rare among
them.
Ascending the St. Lawrence, it was seldom that the sight of a human form
gave relief to the loneliness, until, at Quebec, the roar of Champlain's
cannon from the verge of the cliff announced that the savage prologue of
the American drama was drawing to a close, and that the civilization of
Europe was advancing on the scene. Ascending farther, all was solitude,
except at Three Rivers, a noted place of trade, where a few Algonquins
of the tribe called Atticamegues might possibly be seen. The fear of the
Iroquois was everywhere; and as the voyager passed some wooded point, or
thicket-covered island, the whistling of a stone-headed arrow
proclaimed, perhaps, the presence of these fierce marauders. At Montreal
there was no human life, save during a brief space in early summer, when
the shore swarmed with savages, who had come to the yearly trade from
the great communities of the interior. To-day there were dances, songs,
and feastings; to-morrow all again was solitude, and the Ottawa was
covered with the canoes of the returning warriors.
Along this stream, a main route of traffic, the silence of the
wilderness was broken only by the splash of the passing paddle. To the
north of the river there was indeed a small Algonquin band, called La
Petite Nation, together with one or two other feeble communities; but
they dwelt far from the banks, through fear of the ubiquitous Iroquois.
It was nearly three hundred miles, by the windings of the stream, before
one reached that Algonquin tribe, La Nation de l'Isle, who occupied the
great island of the Allumettes. Then, after many a day of lonely travel,
the voyager found a savage welcome among the Nipissings, on the lake
which bears their name; and then circling west and south for a hundred
and fifty miles of solitude, he reached for the first time a people
speaking a dialect of the Iroquois tongue. Here all was changed.
Populous towns, rude fortifications, and an extensive, though barbarous
tillage, indicated a people far in advance of the famished wanderers of
the Saguenay, or their less abject kindred of New England. These were
the Hurons, of whom the modern Wyandots are a remnant. Both in
themselves and as a type of their generic stock they demand more than a
passing notice. [5]
[5] The usual confusion of Indian tribal names prevails in the case of
the Hurons. The following are their synonymes:--
Hurons (of French origin); Ochateguins (Champlain); Attigouantans (the
name of one of their tribes, used by Champlain for the whole nation);
Ouendat (their true name, according to Lalemant); Yendat, Wyandot,
Guyandot (corruptions of the preceding); Ouaouakecinatouek (Potier),
Quatogies (Colden).
THE HURONS.
More than two centuries have elapsed since the Hurons vanished from
their ancient seats, and the settlers of this rude solitude stand
perplexed and wondering over the relics of a lost people. In the damp
shadow of what seems a virgin forest, the axe and plough bring strange
secrets to light: huge pits, close packed with skeletons and disjointed
bones, mixed with weapons, copper kettles, beads, and trinkets. Not even
the straggling Algonquins, who linger about the scene of Huron
prosperity, can tell their origin. Yet, on ancient worm-eaten pages,
between covers of begrimed parchment, the daily life of this ruined
community, its firesides, its festivals, its funeral rites, are painted
with a minute and vivid fidelity.
The ancient country of the Hurons is now the northern and eastern
portion of Simcoe County, Canada West, and is embraced within the
peninsula formed by the Nottawassaga and Matchedash Bays of Lake Huron,
the River Severn, and Lake Simcoe. Its area was small,--its population
comparatively large. In the year 1639 the Jesuits made an enumeration of
all its villages, dwellings, and families. The result showed thirty-two
villages and hamlets, with seven hundred dwellings, about four thousand
families, and twelve thousand adult persons, or a total population of at
least twenty thousand. [6]
[6] Lalemant, Relation des Hurons, 1640, 38 (Cramoisy). His words are,
"de feux enuiron deux mille, et enuiron douze mille personnes." There
were two families to every fire. That by "personnes" adults only are
meant cannot be doubted, as the Relations abound in incidental evidence
of a total population far exceeding twelve thousand. A Huron family
usually numbered from five to eight persons. The number of the Huron
towns changed from year to year. Champlain and Le Caron, in 1615,
reckoned them at seventeen or eighteen, with a population of about ten
thousand, meaning, no doubt, adults. Brébeuf, in 1635, found twenty
villages, and, as he thinks, thirty thousand souls. Both Le Mercier and
De Quen, as well as Dollier de Casson and the anonymous author of the
Relation of 1660, state the population at from thirty to thirty-five
thousand. Since the time of Champlain's visit, various kindred tribes or
fragments of tribes had been incorporated with the Hurons, thus more
than balancing the ravages of a pestilence which had decimated them.
The region whose boundaries we have given was an alternation of meadows
and deep forests, interlaced with footpaths leading from town to town.
Of these towns, some were fortified, but the greater number were open
and defenceless. They were of a construction common to all tribes of
Iroquois lineage, and peculiar to them. Nothing similar exists at the
present day. [7] They covered a space of from one to ten acres, the
dwellings clustering together with little or no pretension to order. In
general, these singular structures were about thirty or thirty-five feet
in length, breadth, and height; but many were much larger, and a few
were of prodigious length. In some of the villages there were dwellings
two hundred and forty feet long, though in breadth and height they did
not much exceed the others. [8] In shape they were much like an arbor
overarching a garden-walk. Their frame was of tall and strong saplings,
planted in a double row to form the two sides of the house, bent till
they met, and lashed together at the top. To these other poles were
bound transversely, and the whole was covered with large sheets of the
bark of the oak, elm, spruce, or white cedar, overlapping like the
shingles of a roof, upon which, for their better security, split poles
were made fast with cords of linden bark. At the crown of the arch,
along the entire length of the house, an opening a foot wide was left
for the admission of light and the escape of smoke. At each end was a
close porch of similar construction; and here were stowed casks of bark,
filled with smoked fish, Indian corn, and other stores not liable to
injury from frost. Within, on both sides, were wide scaffolds, four feet
from the floor, and extending the entire length of the house, like the
seats of a colossal omnibus. [9] These were formed of thick sheets of
bark, supported by posts and transverse poles, and covered with mats and
skins. Here, in summer, was the sleeping-place of the inmates, and the
space beneath served for storage of their firewood. The fires were on
the ground, in a line down the middle of the house. Each sufficed for
two families, who, in winter, slept closely packed around them. Above,
just under the vaulted roof, were a great number of poles, like the
perches of a hen-roost, and here were suspended weapons, clothing,
skins, and ornaments. Here, too, in harvest time, the squaws hung the
ears of unshelled corn, till the rude abode, through all its length,
seemed decked with a golden tapestry. In general, however, its only
lining was a thick coating of soot from the smoke of fires with neither
draught, chimney, nor window. So pungent was the smoke, that it produced
inflammation of the eyes, attended in old age with frequent blindness.
Another annoyance was the fleas; and a third, the unbridled and unruly
children. Privacy there was none. The house was one chamber, sometimes
lodging more than twenty families. [10]
[7] The permanent bark villages of the Dahcotah of the St. Peter's are
the nearest modern approach to the Huron towns. The whole Huron country
abounds with evidences of having been occupied by a numerous population.
"On a close inspection of the forest," Dr. Taché writes to me, "the
greatest part of it seems to have been cleared at former periods, and
almost the only places bearing the character of the primitive forest are
the low grounds."
[8] Brébeuf, Relation des Hurons, 1635, 31. Champlain says that he saw
them, in 1615, more than thirty fathoms long; while Vanderdonck reports
the length, from actual measurement, of an Iroquois house, at a hundred
and eighty yards, or five hundred and forty feet!
[9] Often, especially among the Iroquois, the internal arrangement was
different. The scaffolds or platforms were raised only a foot from the
earthen floor, and were only twelve or thirteen feet long, with
intervening spaces, where the occupants stored their family provisions
and other articles. Five or six feet above was another platform, often
occupied by children. One pair of platforms sufficed for a family, and
here during summer they slept pellmell, in the clothes they wore by day,
and without pillows.
[10] One of the best descriptions of the Huron and Iroquois houses is
that of Sagard, Voyage des Hurons, 118. See also Champlain (1627), 78;
Brébeuf, Relation des Hurons, 1635, 31; Vanderdonck, New Netherlands, in
N. Y. Hist. Coll., Second Ser., I. 196; Lafitau, Mœurs des Sauvages, II.
10. The account given by Cartier of the houses he saw at Montreal
corresponds with the above. He describes them as about fifty yards long.
In this case, there were partial partitions for the several families,
and a sort of loft above. Many of the Iroquois and Huron houses were of
similar construction, the partitions being at the sides only, leaving a
wide passage down the middle of the house. Bartram, Observations on a
Journey from Pennsylvania to Canada, gives a description and plan of the
Iroquois Council-House in 1751, which was of this construction. Indeed,
the Iroquois preserved this mode of building, in all essential points,
down to a recent period. They usually framed the sides of their houses
on rows of upright posts, arched with separate poles for the roof. The
Hurons, no doubt, did the same in their larger structures. For a door,
there was a sheet of bark hung on wooden hinges, or suspended by cords
from above.
On the site of Huron towns which were destroyed by fire, the size,
shape, and arrangement of the houses can still, in some instances, be
traced by remains in the form of charcoal, as well as by the charred
bones and fragments of pottery found among the ashes.
Dr. Taché, after a zealous and minute examination of the Huron country,
extended through five years, writes to me as follows. "From the remains
I have found, I can vouch for the scrupulous correctness of our ancient
writers. With the aid of their indications and descriptions, I have been
able to detect the sites of villages in the midst of the forest, and by
time study, in situ, of archæological monuments, small as they are, to
understand and confirm their many interesting details of the habits, and
especially the funeral rites, of these extraordinary tribes."
He who entered on a winter night beheld a strange spectacle: the vista
of fires lighting the smoky concave; the bronzed groups encircling
each,--cooking, eating, gambling, or amusing themselves with idle
badinage; shrivelled squaws, hideous with threescore years of hardship;
grisly old warriors, scarred with Iroquois war-clubs; young aspirants,
whose honors were yet to be won; damsels gay with ochre and wampum;
restless children pellmell with restless dogs. Now a tongue of resinous
flame painted each wild feature in vivid light; now the fitful gleam
expired, and the group vanished from sight, as their nation has vanished
from history.
The fortified towns of the Hurons were all on the side exposed to
Iroquois incursions. The fortifications of all this family of tribes
were, like their dwellings, in essential points alike. A situation was
chosen favorable to defence,--the bank of a lake, the crown of a
difficult hill, or a high point of land in the fork of confluent rivers.
A ditch, several feet deep, was dug around the village, and the earth
thrown up on the inside. Trees were then felled by an alternate process
of burning and hacking the burnt part with stone hatchets, and by
similar means were cut into lengths to form palisades. These were
planted on the embankment, in one, two, three, or four concentric
rows,--those of each row inclining towards those of the other rows until
they intersected. The whole was lined within, to the height of a man,
with heavy sheets of bark; and at the top, where the palisades crossed,
was a gallery of timber for the defenders, together with wooden gutters,
by which streams of water could be poured down on fires kindled by the
enemy. Magazines of stones, and rude ladders for mounting the rampart,
completed the provision for defence. The forts of the Iroquois were
stronger and more elaborate than those of the Hurons; and to this day
large districts in New York are marked with frequent remains of their
ditches and embankments. [11]
[11] There is no mathematical regularity in these works. In their form,
the builders were guided merely by the nature of the ground. Frequently
a precipice or river sufficed for partial defence, and the line of
embankment occurs only on one or two sides. In one instance, distinct
traces of a double line of palisades are visible along the embankment.
(See Squier, Aboriginal Monuments of New York, 38.) It is probable that
the palisade was planted first, and the earth heaped around it. Indeed,
this is stated by the Tuscarora Indian, Cusick, in his curious History
of the Six Nations (Iroquois). Brébeuf says, that as early as 1636 the
Jesuits taught the Hurons to build rectangular palisaded works, with
bastions. The Iroquois adopted the same practice at an early period,
omitting the ditch and embankment; and it is probable, that, even in
their primitive defences, the palisades, where the ground was of a
nature to yield easily to their rude implements, were planted simply in
holes dug for the purpose. Such seems to have been the Iroquois fortress
attacked by Champlain in 1615.
The Muscogees, with other Southern tribes, and occasionally the
Algonquins, had palisaded towns; but the palisades were usually but a
single row, planted upright. The tribes of Virginia occasionally
surrounded their dwellings with a triple palisade.--Beverly, History of
Virginia, 149.
Among these tribes there was no individual ownership of land, but each
family had for the time exclusive right to as much as it saw fit to
cultivate. The clearing process--a most toilsome one--consisted in
hacking off branches, piling them together with brushwood around the
foot of the standing trunks, and setting fire to the whole. The squaws,
working with their hoes of wood and bone among the charred stumps, sowed
their corn, beans, pumpkins, tobacco, sunflowers, and Huron hemp. No
manure was used; but, at intervals of from ten to thirty years, when the
soil was exhausted, and firewood distant, the village was abandoned and
a new one built.
There was little game in the Huron country; and here, as among the
Iroquois, the staple of food was Indian corn, cooked without salt in a
variety of forms, each more odious than the last. Venison was a luxury
found only at feasts; dog-flesh was in high esteem; and, in some of the
towns captive bears were fattened for festive occasions. These tribes
were far less improvident than the roving Algonquins, and stores of
provision were laid up against a season of want. Their main stock of
corn was buried in caches, or deep holes in the earth, either within or
without the houses.
In respect to the arts of life, all these stationary tribes were in
advance of the wandering hunters of the North. The women made a species
of earthen pot for cooking, but these were supplanted by the copper
kettles of the French traders. They wove rush mats with no little skill.
They spun twine from hemp, by the primitive process of rolling it on
their thighs; and of this twine they made nets. They extracted oil from
fish and from the seeds of the sunflower,--the latter, apparently, only
for the purposes of the toilet. They pounded their maize in huge mortars
of wood, hollowed by alternate burnings and scrapings. Their stone axes,
spear and arrow heads, and bone fish-hooks, were fast giving place to
the iron of the French; but they had not laid aside their shields of raw
bison-hide, or of wood overlaid with plaited and twisted thongs of skin.
They still used, too, their primitive breastplates and greaves of twigs
interwoven with cordage. [12] The masterpiece of Huron handiwork,
however, was the birch canoe, in the construction of which the
Algonquins were no less skilful. The Iroquois, in the absence of the
birch, were forced to use the bark of the elm, which was greatly
inferior both in lightness and strength. Of pipes, than which nothing
was more important in their eyes, the Hurons made a great variety, some
of baked clay, others of various kinds of stone, carved by the men,
during their long periods of monotonous leisure, often with great skill
and ingenuity. But their most mysterious fabric was wampum. This was at
once their currency, their ornament, their pen, ink, and parchment; and
its use was by no means confined to tribes of the Iroquois stock. It
consisted of elongated beads, white and purple, made from the inner part
of certain shells. It is not easy to conceive how, with their rude
implements, the Indians contrived to shape and perforate this
intractable material. The art soon fell into disuse, however; for wampum
better than their own was brought them by the traders, besides abundant
imitations in glass and porcelain. Strung into necklaces, or wrought
into collars, belts, and bracelets, it was the favorite decoration of
the Indian girls at festivals and dances. It served also a graver
purpose. No compact, no speech, or clause of a speech, to the
representative of another nation, had any force, unless confirmed by the
delivery of a string or belt of wampum. [13] The belts, on occasions of
importance, were wrought into significant devices, suggestive of the
substance of the compact or speech, and designed as aids to memory. To
one or more old men of the nation was assigned the honorable, but very
onerous, charge of keepers of the wampum,--in other words, of the
national records; and it was for them to remember and interpret the
meaning of the belts. The figures on wampum-belts were, for the most
part, simply mnemonic. So also were those carved on wooden tablets, or
painted on bark and skin, to preserve in memory the songs of war,
hunting, or magic. [14] The Hurons had, however, in common with other
tribes, a system of rude pictures and arbitrary signs, by which they
could convey to each other, with tolerable precision, information
touching the ordinary subjects of Indian interest.
[12] Some of the northern tribes of California, at the present day, wear
a sort of breastplate "composed of thin parallel battens of very tough
wood, woven together with a small cord."
[13] Beaver-skins and other valuable furs were sometimes, on such
occasions, used as a substitute.
[14] Engravings of many specimens of these figured songs are given in
the voluminous reports on the condition of the Indians, published by
Government, under the editorship of Mr. Schoolcraft. The specimens are
chiefly Algonquin.
Their dress was chiefly of skins, cured with smoke after the well-known
Indian mode. That of the women, according to the Jesuits, was more
modest than that "of our most pious ladies of France." The young girls
on festal occasions must be excepted from this commendation, as they
wore merely a kilt from the waist to the knee, besides the wampum
decorations of the breast and arms. Their long black hair, gathered
behind the neck, was decorated with disks of native copper, or gay
pendants made in France, and now occasionally unearthed in numbers from
their graves. The men, in summer, were nearly naked,--those of a kindred
tribe wholly so, with the sole exception of their moccasins. In winter
they were clad in tunics and leggins of skin, and at all seasons, on
occasions of ceremony, were wrapped from head to foot in robes of beaver
or otter furs, sometimes of the greatest value. On the inner side, these
robes were decorated with painted figures and devices, or embroidered
with the dyed quills of the Canada hedgehog. In this art of embroidery,
however, the Hurons were equalled or surpassed by some of the Algonquin
tribes. They wore their hair after a variety of grotesque and startling
fashions. With some, it was loose on one side, and tight braided on the
other; with others, close shaved, leaving one or more long and cherished
locks; while, with others again, it bristled in a ridge across the
crown, like the back of a hyena. [15] When in full dress, they were
painted with ochre, white clay, soot, and the red juice of certain
berries. They practised tattooing, sometimes covering the whole body
with indelible devices. [16] When of such extent, the process was very
severe; and though no murmur escaped the sufferer, he sometimes died
from its effects.
[15] See Le Jeune, Relation, 1633, 35.--"Quelles hures!" exclaimed some
astonished Frenchman. Hence the name, Hurons.
[16] Bressani, Relation Abrégée, 72.--Champlain has a picture of a
warrior thus tattooed.
Female life among the Hurons had no bright side. It was a youth of
license, an age of drudgery. Despite an organization which, while it
perhaps made them less sensible of pain, certainly made them less
susceptible of passion, than the higher races of men, the Hurons were
notoriously dissolute, far exceeding in this respect the wandering and
starving Algonquins. [17] Marriage existed among them, and polygamy was
exceptional; but divorce took place at the will or caprice of either
party. A practice also prevailed of temporary or experimental marriage,
lasting a day, a week, or more. The seal of the compact was merely the
acceptance of a gift of wampum made by the suitor to the object of his
desire or his whim. These gifts were never returned on the dissolution
of the connection; and as an attractive and enterprising damsel might,
and often did, make twenty such marriages before her final
establishment, she thus collected a wealth of wampum with which to adorn
herself for the village dances. [18] This provisional matrimony was no
bar to a license boundless and apparently universal, unattended with
loss of reputation on either side. Every instinct of native delicacy
quickly vanished under the influence of Huron domestic life; eight or
ten families, and often more, crowded into one undivided house, where
privacy was impossible, and where strangers were free to enter at all
hours of the day or night.
[17] Among the Iroquois there were more favorable features in the
condition of women. The matrons had often a considerable influence on
the decisions of the councils. Lafitau, whose book appeared in 1724,
says that the nation was corrupt in his time, but that this was a
degeneracy from their ancient manners. La Potherie and Charlevoix make a
similar statement. Megapolensis, however, in 1644, says that they were
then exceedingly debauched; and Greenhalgh, in 1677, gives ample
evidence of a shameless license. One of their most earnest advocates of
the present day admits that the passion of love among them had no other
than an animal existence. (Morgan, League of the Iroquois, 322.) There
is clear proof that the tribes of the South were equally corrupt. (See
Lawson, Carolina, 34, and other early writers.) On the other hand,
chastity in women was recognized as a virtue by many tribes. This was
peculiarly the case among the Algonquins of Gaspé, where a lapse in this
regard was counted a disgrace. (See Le Clerc, Nouvelle Relation de la
Gaspésie, 417, where a contrast is drawn between the modesty of the
girls of this region and the open prostitution practised among those of
other tribes.) Among the Sioux, adultery on the part of a woman is
punished by mutilation.
The remarkable forbearance observed by Eastern and Northern tribes
towards female captives was probably the result of a superstition.
Notwithstanding the prevailing license, the Iroquois and other tribes
had among themselves certain conventional rules which excited the
admiration of the Jesuit celibates. Some of these had a superstitious
origin; others were in accordance with the iron requirements of their
savage etiquette. To make the Indian a hero of romance is mere nonsense.
[18] "Il s'en trouue telle qui passe ainsi sa ieunesse, qui aura en plus
de vingt maris, lesquels vingt maris ne sont pas seuls en la jouyssance
de la beste, quelques mariez qu'ils soient: car la nuict venuë, les
ieunes femmes courent d'une cabane en une autre, come font les ieunes
hommes de leur costé, qui en prennent par ou bon leur semble, toutesfois
sans violence aucune, et n'en reçoiuent aucune infamie, ny injure, la
coustume du pays estant telle."--Champlain (1627), 90. Compare Sagard,
Voyage des Hurons, 176. Both were personal observers.
The ceremony, even of the most serious marriage, consisted merely in the
bride's bringing a dish of boiled maize to the bridegroom, together with
an armful of fuel. There was often a feast of the relatives, or of the
whole village.
Once a mother, and married with a reasonable permanency, the Huron woman
from a wanton became a drudge. In March and April she gathered the
year's supply of firewood. Then came sowing, tilling, and harvesting,
smoking fish, dressing skins, making cordage and clothing, preparing
food. On the march it was she who bore the burden; for, in the words of
Champlain, "their women were their mules." The natural effect followed.
In every Huron town were shrivelled hags, hideous and despised, who, in
vindictiveness, ferocity, and cruelty, far exceeded the men.
To the men fell the task of building the houses, and making weapons,
pipes, and canoes. For the rest, their home-life was a life of leisure
and amusement. The summer and autumn were their seasons of serious
employment,--of war, hunting, fishing, and trade. There was an
established system of traffic between the Hurons and the Algonquins of
the Ottawa and Lake Nipissing: the Hurons exchanging wampum,
fishing-nets, and corn for fish and furs. [19] From various relics found
in their graves, it may be inferred that they also traded with tribes of
the Upper Lakes, as well as with tribes far southward, towards the Gulf
of Mexico. Each branch of traffic was the monopoly of the family or clan
by whom it was opened. They might, if they could, punish interlopers, by
stripping them of all they possessed, unless the latter had succeeded in
reaching home with the fruits of their trade,--in which case the
outraged monopolists had no further right of redress, and could not
attempt it without a breaking of the public peace, and exposure to the
authorized vengeance of the other party. [20] Their fisheries, too, were
regulated by customs having the force of laws. These pursuits, with
their hunting,--in which they were aided by a wolfish breed of dogs
unable to bark,--consumed the autumn and early winter; but before the
new year the greater part of the men were gathered in their villages.
[19] Champlain (1627), 84.
[20] Brébeuf, Relation des Hurons, 1636, 156 (Cramoisy).
Now followed their festal season; for it was the season of idleness for
the men, and of leisure for the women. Feasts, gambling, smoking, and
dancing filled the vacant hours. Like other Indians, the Hurons were
desperate gamblers, staking their all,--ornaments, clothing, canoes,
pipes, weapons, and wives. One of their principal games was played with
plum-stones, or wooden lozenges, black on one side and white on the
other. These were tossed up in a wooden bowl, by striking it sharply
upon the ground, and the players betted on the black or white. Sometimes
a village challenged a neighboring village. The game was played in one
of the houses. Strong poles were extended from side to side, and on
these sat or perched the company, party facing party, while two players
struck the bowl on the ground between. Bets ran high; and Brébeuf
relates, that once, in midwinter, with the snow nearly three feet deep,
the men of his village returned from a gambling visit, bereft of their
leggins, and barefoot, yet in excellent humor. [21] Ludicrous as it may
appear, these games were often medical prescriptions, and designed as a
cure of the sick.
[21] Brébeuf, Relation des Hurons, 1636, 113.--This game is still a
favorite among the Iroquois, some of whom hold to the belief that they
will play it after death in the realms of bliss. In all their important
games of chance, they employed charms, incantations, and all the
resources of their magical art, to gain good luck.
Their feasts and dances were of various character, social, medical, and
mystical or religious. Some of their feasts were on a scale of
extravagant profusion. A vain or ambitious host threw all his substance
into one entertainment, inviting the whole village, and perhaps several
neighboring villages also. In the winter of 1635 there was a feast at
the village of Contarrea, where thirty kettles were on the fires, and
twenty deer and four bears were served up. [22] The invitation was
simple. The messenger addressed the desired guest with the concise
summons, "Come and eat"; and to refuse was a grave offence. He took his
dish and spoon, and repaired to the scene of festivity. Each, as he
entered, greeted his host with the guttural ejaculation, Ho! and ranged
himself with the rest, squatted on the earthen floor or on the platform
along the sides of the house. The kettles were slung over the fires in
the midst. First, there was a long prelude of lugubrious singing. Then
the host, who took no share in the feast, proclaimed in a loud voice the
contents of each kettle in turn, and at each announcement the company
responded in unison, Ho! The attendant squaws filled with their ladles
the bowls of all the guests. There was talking, laughing, jesting,
singing, and smoking; and at times the entertainment was protracted
through the day.
[22] Brébeuf, Relation des Hurons, 1636, 111.
When the feast had a medical or mystic character, it was indispensable
that each guest should devour the whole of the portion given him,
however enormous. Should he fail, the host would be outraged, the
community shocked, and the spirits roused to vengeance. Disaster would
befall the nation,--death, perhaps, the individual. In some cases, the
imagined efficacy of the feast was proportioned to the rapidity with
which the viands were despatched. Prizes of tobacco were offered to the
most rapid feeder; and the spectacle then became truly porcine. [23]
These festins à manger tout were much dreaded by many of the Hurons,
who, however, were never known to decline them.
[23] This superstition was not confined to the Hurons, but extended to
many other tribes, including, probably, all the Algonquins, with some of
which it holds in full force to this day. A feaster, unable to do his
full part, might, if he could, hire another to aid him; otherwise, he
must remain in his place till the work was done.
Invitation to a dance was no less concise than to a feast. Sometimes a
crier proclaimed the approaching festivity through the village. The
house was crowded. Old men, old women, and children thronged the
platforms, or clung to the poles which supported the sides and roof.
Fires were raked out, and the earthen floor cleared. Two chiefs sang at
the top of their voices, keeping time to their song with tortoise-shell
rattles. [24] The men danced with great violence and gesticulation; the
women, with a much more measured action. The former were nearly divested
of clothing,--in mystical dances, sometimes wholly so; and, from a
superstitious motive, this was now and then the case with the women.
Both, however, were abundantly decorated with paint, oil, beads, wampum,
trinkets, and feathers.
[24] Sagard gives specimens of their songs. In both dances and feasts
there was no little variety. These were sometimes combined. It is
impossible, in brief space, to indicate more than their general
features. In the famous "war-dance,"--which was frequently danced, as it
still is, for amusement,--speeches, exhortations, jests, personal
satire, and repartee were commonly introduced as a part of the
performance, sometimes by way of patriotic stimulus, sometimes for
amusement. The music in this case was the drum and the war-song. Some of
the other dances were also interspersed with speeches and sharp
witticisms, always taken in good part, though Lafitau says that he has
seen the victim so pitilessly bantered that he was forced to hide his
head in his blanket.
Religious festivals, councils, the entertainment of an envoy, the
inauguration of a chief, were all occasions of festivity, in which
social pleasure was joined with matter of grave import, and which at
times gathered nearly all the nation into one great and harmonious
concourse. Warlike expeditions, too, were always preceded by feasting,
at which the warriors vaunted the fame of their ancestors, and their own
past and prospective exploits. A hideous scene of feasting followed the
torture of a prisoner. Like the torture itself, it was, among the
Hurons, partly an act of vengeance, and partly a religious rite. If the
victim had shown courage, the heart was first roasted, cut into small
pieces, and given to the young men and boys, who devoured it to increase
their own courage. The body was then divided, thrown into the kettles,
and eaten by the assembly, the head being the portion of the chief. Many
of the Hurons joined in the feast with reluctance and horror, while
others took pleasure in it. [25] This was the only form of cannibalism
among them, since, unlike the wandering Algonquins, they were rarely
under the desperation of extreme famine.
[25] "Il y en a qui en mangent auec plaisir."--Brébeuf, Relation des
Hurons, 1636, 121.--Le Mercier gives a description of one of these
scenes, at which he was present. (Ibid., 1637, 118.) The same horrible
practice prevailed to a greater extent among the Iroquois. One of the
most remarkable instances of Indian cannibalism is that furnished by a
Western tribe, the Miamis, among whom there was a clan, or family, whose
hereditary duty and privilege it was to devour the bodies of prisoners
burned to death. The act had somewhat of a religious character, was
attended with ceremonial observances, and was restricted to the family
in question.--See Hon. Lewis Cass, in the appendix to Colonel Whiting's
poem, "Ontwa."
A great knowledge of simples for the cure of disease is popularly
ascribed to the Indian. Here, however, as elsewhere, his knowledge is in
fact scanty. He rarely reasons from cause to effect, or from effect to
cause. Disease, in his belief, is the result of sorcery, the agency of
spirits or supernatural influences, undefined and indefinable. The
Indian doctor was a conjurer, and his remedies were to the last degree
preposterous, ridiculous, or revolting. The well-known Indian
sweating-bath is the most prominent of the few means of cure based on
agencies simply physical; and this, with all the other natural remedies,
was applied, not by the professed doctor, but by the sufferer himself,
or his friends. [26]
[26] The Indians had many simple applications for wounds, said to have
been very efficacious; but the purity of their blood, owing to the
absence from their diet of condiments and stimulants, as well as to
their active habits, aided the remedy. In general, they were remarkably
exempt from disease or deformity, though often seriously injured by
alternations of hunger and excess. The Hurons sometimes died from the
effects of their festins à manger tout.
The Indian doctor beat, shook, and pinched his patient, howled, whooped,
rattled a tortoise-shell at his ear to expel the evil spirit, bit him
till blood flowed, and then displayed in triumph a small piece of wood,
bone, or iron, which he had hidden in his mouth, and which he affirmed
was the source of the disease, now happily removed. [27] Sometimes he
prescribed a dance, feast, or game; and the whole village bestirred
themselves to fulfil the injunction to the letter. They gambled away
their all; they gorged themselves like vultures; they danced or played
ball naked among the snow-drifts from morning till night. At a medical
feast, some strange or unusual act was commonly enjoined as vital to the
patient's cure: as, for example, the departing guest, in place of the
customary monosyllable of thanks, was required to greet his host with an
ugly grimace. Sometimes, by prescription, half the village would throng
into the house where the patient lay, led by old women disguised with
the heads and skins of bears, and beating with sticks on sheets of dry
bark. Here the assembly danced and whooped for hours together, with a
din to which a civilized patient would promptly have succumbed.
Sometimes the doctor wrought himself into a prophetic fury, raving
through the length and breadth of the dwelling, snatching firebrands and
flinging them about him, to the terror of the squaws, with whom, in
their combustible tenements, fire was a constant bugbear.
[27] The Hurons believed that the chief cause of disease and death was a
monstrous serpent, that lived under the earth. By touching a tuft of
hair, a feather, or a fragment of bone, with a portion of his flesh or
fat, the sorcerer imparted power to it of entering the body of his
victim, and gradually killing him. It was an important part of the
doctor's function to extract these charms from the vitals of his
patient.--Ragueneau, Relation des Hurons, 1648, 75.
Among the Hurons and kindred tribes, disease was frequently ascribed to
some hidden wish ungratified. Hence the patient was overwhelmed with
gifts, in the hope, that, in their multiplicity, the desideratum might
be supplied. Kettles, skins, awls, pipes, wampum, fish-hooks, weapons,
objects of every conceivable variety, were piled before him by a host of
charitable contributors; and if, as often happened, a dream, the Indian
oracle, had revealed to the sick man the secret of his cure, his demands
were never refused, however extravagant, idle, nauseous, or abominable.
[28] Hence it is no matter of wonder that sudden illness and sudden
cures were frequent among the Hurons. The patient reaped profit, and the
doctor both profit and honor.
[28] "Dans le pays de nos Hurons, il se faict aussi des assemblées de
toutes les filles d'vn bourg auprés d'vne malade, tant à sa priere,
suyuant la resuerie ou le songe qu'elle en aura euë, que par
l'ordonnance de Loki (the doctor), pour sa santé et guerison. Les filles
ainsi assemblées, on leur demande à toutes, les vnes apres les autres,
celuy qu'elles veulent des ieunes hommes du bourg pour dormir auec elles
la nuict prochaine: elles en nomment chacune vn, qui sont aussi-tost
aduertis par les Maistres de la ceremonie, lesquels viennent tous au
soir en la presence de la malade dormir chacun auec celle qui l'a
choysi, d'vn bout à l'autre de la Cabane, et passent ainsi toute la
nuict, pendant que deux Capitaines aux deux bouts du logis chantent et
sonnent de leur Tortuë du soir au lendemain matin, que la ceremonie
cesse. Dieu vueille abolir vne si damnable et malheureuse
ceremonie."--Sagard, Voyage des Hurons, 158.--This unique mode of cure,
which was called Andacwandet, is also described by Lalemant, who saw it.
(Relation des Hurons, 1639, 84.) It was one of the recognized remedies.
For the medical practices of the Hurons, see also Champlain, Brébeuf,
Lafitau, Charlevoix, and other early writers. Those of the Algonquins
were in some points different. The doctor often consulted the spirits,
to learn the cause and cure of the disease, by a method peculiar to that
family of tribes. He shut himself in a small conical lodge, and the
spirits here visited him, manifesting their presence by a violent
shaking of the whole structure. This superstition will be described in
another connection.
THE HURON-IROQUOIS FAMILY.
And now, before entering upon the very curious subject of Indian social
and tribal organization, it may be well briefly to observe the position
and prominent distinctive features of the various communities speaking
dialects of the generic tongue of the Iroquois. In this remarkable
family of tribes occur the fullest developments of Indian character, and
the most conspicuous examples of Indian intelligence. If the higher
traits popularly ascribed to the race are not to be found here, they are
to be found nowhere. A palpable proof of the superiority of this stock
is afforded in the size of the Iroquois and Huron brains. In average
internal capacity of the cranium, they surpass, with few and doubtful
exceptions, all other aborigines of North and South America, not
excepting the civilized races of Mexico and Peru. [29]
[29] "On comparing five Iroquois heads, I find that they give an average
internal capacity of eighty-eight cubic inches, which is within two
inches of the Caucasian mean."--Morton, Crania Americana, 195.--It is
remarkable that the internal capacity of the skulls of the barbarous
American tribes is greater than that of either the Mexicans or the
Peruvians. "The difference in volume is chiefly confined to the
occipital and basal portions,"--in other words, to the region of the
animal propensities; and hence, it is argued, the ferocious, brutal, and
uncivilizable character of the wild tribes.--See J. S. Phillips,
Admeasurements of Crania of the Principal Groups of Indians in the
United States.
In the woody valleys of the Blue Mountains, south of the Nottawassaga
Bay of Lake Huron, and two days' journey west of the frontier Huron
towns, lay the nine villages of the Tobacco Nation, or Tionnontates.
[30] In manners, as in language, they closely resembled the Hurons. Of
old they were their enemies, but were now at peace with them, and about
the year 1640 became their close confederates. Indeed, in the ruin which
befell that hapless people, the Tionnontates alone retained a tribal
organization; and their descendants, with a trifling exception, are to
this day the sole inheritors of the Huron or Wyandot name. Expatriated
and wandering, they held for generations a paramount influence among the
Western tribes. [31] In their original seats among the Blue Mountains,
they offered an example extremely rare among Indians, of a tribe raising
a crop for the market; for they traded in tobacco largely with other
tribes. Their Huron confederates, keen traders, would not suffer them to
pass through their country to traffic with the French, preferring to
secure for themselves the advantage of bartering with them in French
goods at an enormous profit. [32]
[30] Synonymes: Tionnontates, Etionontates, Tuinontatek, Dionondadies,
Khionontaterrhonons, Petuneux or Nation du Petun (Tobacco).
[31] "L'ame de tous les Conseils."--Charlevoix, Voyage, 199.--In 1763
they were Pontiac's best warriors.
[32] On the Tionnontates, see Le Mercier, Relation, 1637, 163; Lalemant,
Relation, 1641, 69; Ragueneau, Relation, 1648, 61. An excellent summary
of their character and history, by Mr. Shea, will be found in Hist.
Mag., V. 262.
Journeying southward five days from the Tionnontate towns, the forest
traveller reached the border villages of the Attiwandarons, or Neutral
Nation. [33] As early as 1626, they were visited by the Franciscan
friar, La Roche Dallion, who reports a numerous population in
twenty-eight towns, besides many small hamlets. Their country, about
forty leagues in extent, embraced wide and fertile districts on the
north shore of Lake Erie, and their frontier extended eastward across
the Niagara, where they had three or four outlying towns. [34] Their
name of Neutrals was due to their neutrality in the war between the
Hurons and the Iroquois proper. The hostile warriors, meeting in a
Neutral cabin, were forced to keep the peace, though, once in the open
air, the truce was at an end. Yet this people were abundantly ferocious,
and, while holding a pacific attitude betwixt their warring kindred,
waged deadly strife with the Mascoutins, an Algonquin horde beyond Lake
Michigan. Indeed, it was but recently that they had been at blows with
seventeen Algonquin tribes. [35] They burned female prisoners, a
practice unknown to the Hurons. [36] Their country was full of game, and
they were bold and active hunters. In form and stature they surpassed
even the Hurons, whom they resembled in their mode of life, and from
whose language their own, though radically similar, was dialectically
distinct. Their licentiousness was even more open and shameless; and
they stood alone in the extravagance of some of their usages. They kept
their dead in their houses till they became insupportable; then scraped
the flesh from the bones, and displayed them in rows along the walls,
there to remain till the periodical Feast of the Dead, or general
burial. In summer, the men wore no clothing whatever, but were usually
tattooed from head to foot with powdered charcoal.
[33] Attiwandarons, Attiwendaronk, Atirhagenrenrets, Rhagenratka (Jesuit
Relations), Attionidarons (Sagard). They, and not the Eries, were the
Kahkwas of Seneca tradition.
[34] Lalemant, Relation des Hurons, 1641, 71.--The Niagara was then
called the River of the Neutrals, or the Onguiaahra. Lalemant estimates
the Neutral population, in 1640, at twelve thousand, in forty villages.
[35] Lettre du Père La Roche Dallion, 8 Juillet, 1627, in Le Clerc,
Établissement de la Foy, I. 346.
[36] Women were often burned by the Iroquois: witness the case of
Catherine Mercier in 1651, and many cases of Indian women mentioned by
the early writers.
The sagacious Hurons refused them a passage through their country to the
French; and the Neutrals apparently had not sense or reflection enough
to take the easy and direct route of Lake Ontario, which was probably
open to them, though closed against the Hurons by Iroquois enmity. Thus
the former made excellent profit by exchanging French goods at high
rates for the valuable furs of the Neutrals. [37]
[37] The Hurons became very jealous, when La Roche Dallion visited the
Neutrals, lest a direct trade should be opened between the latter and
the French, against whom they at once put in circulation a variety of
slanders: that they were a people who lived on snakes and venom; that
they were furnished with tails; and that French women, though having but
one breast, bore six children at a birth. The missionary nearly lost his
life in consequence, the Neutrals conceiving the idea that he would
infect their country with a pestilence.--La Roche Dallion, in Le Clerc,
I. 346.
Southward and eastward of Lake Erie dwelt a kindred people, the Eries,
or Nation of the Cat. Little besides their existence is known of them.
They seem to have occupied Southwestern New York, as far east as the
Genesee, the frontier of the Senecas, and in habits and language to have
resembled the Hurons. [38] They were noted warriors, fought with
poisoned arrows, and were long a terror to the neighboring Iroquois.
[39]
[38] Ragueneau, Relation des Hurons, 1648, 46.
[39] Le Mercier, Relation, 1654, 10.--"Nous les appellons la Nation
Chat, à cause qu'il y a dans leur pais vne quantité prodigieuse de Chats
sauuages."--Ibid.--The Iroquois are said to have given the same name,
Jegosasa, Cat Nation, to the Neutrals.--Morgan, League of the Iroquois,
41.
Synonymes: Eriés, Erigas, Eriehronon, Riguehronon. The Jesuits never had
a mission among them, though they seem to have been visited by
Champlain's adventurous interpreter, Étienne Brulé, in the summer of
1615.--They are probably the Carantoüans of Champlain.
On the Lower Susquehanna dwelt the formidable tribe called by the French
Andastes. Little is known of them, beyond their general resemblance to
their kindred, in language, habits, and character. Fierce and resolute
warriors, they long made head against the Iroquois of New York, and were
vanquished at last more by disease than by the tomahawk. [40]
[40] Gallatin erroneously places the Andastes on the Alleghany, Bancroft
and others adopting the error. The research of Mr. Shea has shown their
identity with the Susquehannocks of the English, and the Minquas of the
Dutch.--See Hist. Mag., II. 294.
Synonymes: Andastes, Andastracronnons, Andastaeronnons, Andastaguez,
Antastoui (French), Susquehannocks (English), Mengwe, Minquas (Dutch),
Conestogas, Conessetagoes (English).
In Central New York, stretching east and west from the Hudson to the
Genesee, lay that redoubted people who have lent their name to the
tribal family of the Iroquois, and stamped it indelibly on the early
pages of American history. Among all the barbarous nations of the
continent, the Iroquois of New York stand paramount. Elements which
among other tribes were crude, confused, and embryotic, were among them
systematized and concreted into an established polity. The Iroquois was
the Indian of Indians. A thorough savage, yet a finished and developed
savage, he is perhaps an example of the highest elevation which man can
reach without emerging from his primitive condition of the hunter. A
geographical position, commanding on one hand the portal of the Great
Lakes, and on the other the sources of the streams flowing both to the
Atlantic and the Mississippi, gave the ambitious and aggressive
confederates advantages which they perfectly understood, and by which
they profited to the utmost. Patient and politic as they were ferocious,
they were not only conquerors of their own race, but the powerful allies
and the dreaded foes of the French and English colonies, flattered and
caressed by both, yet too sagacious to give themselves without reserve
to either. Their organization and their history evince their intrinsic
superiority. Even their traditionary lore, amid its wild puerilities,
shows at times the stamp of an energy and force in striking contrast
with the flimsy creations of Algonquin fancy. That the Iroquois, left
under their institutions to work out their destiny undisturbed, would
ever have developed a civilization of their own, I do not believe. These
institutions, however, are sufficiently characteristic and curious, and
we shall soon have occasion to observe them. [41]
[41] The name Iroquois is French. Charlevoix says: "Il a été formé du
terme Hiro, ou Hero, qui signifie J'ai dit, et par lequel ces sauvages
finissent tous leur discours, comme les Latins faisoient autrefois par
leur Dixi; et de Koué, qui est un cri tantôt de tristesse, lorsqu'on le
prononce en traînant, et tantôt de joye, quand on le prononce plus
court."--Hist. de la N. F., I. 271.--Their true name is Hodenosaunee, or
People of the Long House, because their confederacy of five distinct
nations, ranged in a line along Central New York, was likened to one of
the long bark houses already described, with five fires and five
families. The name Agonnonsionni, or Aquanuscioni, ascribed to them by
Lafitau and Charlevoix, who translated it "House-Makers," Faiseurs de
Cabannes, may be a conversion of the true name with an erroneous
rendering. The following are the true names of the five nations
severally, with their French and English synonymes. For other synonymes,
see "History of the Conspiracy of Pontiac," 8, note.
English French
Ganeagaono, Mohawk, Agnier.
Onayotekaono, Oneida, Onneyut.
Onundagaono, Onondaga, Onnontagué.
Gweugwehono, Cayuga, Goyogouin.
Nundawaono, Seneca, Tsonnontouans.
The Iroquois termination in ono--or onon, as the French write it--simply
means people.
SOCIAL AND POLITICAL ORGANIZATION.
In Indian social organization, a problem at once suggests itself. In
these communities, comparatively populous, how could spirits so fierce,
and in many respects so ungoverned, live together in peace, without law
and without enforced authority? Yet there were towns where savages lived
together in thousands with a harmony which civilization might envy. This
was in good measure due to peculiarities of Indian character and habits.
This intractable race were, in certain external respects, the most
pliant and complaisant of mankind. The early missionaries were charmed
by the docile acquiescence with which their dogmas were received; but
they soon discovered that their facile auditors neither believed nor
understood that to which they had so promptly assented. They assented
from a kind of courtesy, which, while it vexed the priests, tended
greatly to keep the Indians in mutual accord. That well-known
self-control, which, originating in a form of pride, covered the savage
nature of the man with a veil, opaque, though thin, contributed not a
little to the same end. Though vain, arrogant, boastful, and vindictive,
the Indian bore abuse and sarcasm with an astonishing patience. Though
greedy and grasping, he was lavish without stint, and would give away
his all to soothe the manes of a departed relative, gain influence and
applause, or ingratiate himself with his neighbors. In his dread of
public opinion, he rivalled some of his civilized successors.
All Indians, and especially these populous and stationary tribes, had
their code of courtesy, whose requirements were rigid and exact; nor
might any infringe it without the ban of public censure. Indian nature,
inflexible and unmalleable, was peculiarly under the control of custom.
Established usage took the place of law,--was, in fact, a sort of common
law, with no tribunal to expound or enforce it. In these wild
democracies,--democracies in spirit, though not in form,--a respect for
native superiority, and a willingness to yield to it, were always
conspicuous. All were prompt to aid each other in distress, and a
neighborly spirit was often exhibited among them. When a young woman was
permanently married, the other women of the village supplied her with
firewood for the year, each contributing an armful. When one or more
families were without shelter, the men of the village joined in building
them a house. In return, the recipients of the favor gave a feast, if
they could; if not, their thanks were sufficient. [42] Among the
Iroquois and Hurons--and doubtless among the kindred tribes--there were
marked distinctions of noble and base, prosperous and poor; yet, while
there was food in the village, the meanest and the poorest need not
suffer want. He had but to enter the nearest house, and seat himself by
the fire, when, without a word on either side, food was placed before
him by the women. [43]
[42] The following testimony concerning Indian charity and hospitality
is from Ragueneau: "As often as we have seen tribes broken up, towns
destroyed, and their people driven to flight, we have seen them, to the
number of seven or eight hundred persons, received with open arms by
charitable hosts, who gladly gave them aid, and even distributed among
them a part of the lands already planted, that they might have the means
of living."--Relation, 1650, 28.
[43] The Jesuit Brébeuf, than whom no one knew the Hurons better, is
very emphatic in praise of their harmony and social spirit. Speaking of
one of the four nations of which the Hurons were composed, he says: "Ils
ont vne douceur et vne affabilité quasi incroyable pour des Sauuages;
ils ne se picquent pas aisément.... Ils se maintiennent dans cette si
parfaite intelligence par les frequentes visites, les secours qu'ils se
donnent mutuellement dans leurs maladies, par les festins et les
alliances.... Ils sont moins en leurs Cabanes que chez leurs amis....
S'ils ont vn bon morceau, ils en font festin à leurs amis, et ne le
mangent quasi iamais en leur particulier," etc.--Relation des Hurons,
1636, 118.
Contrary to the received opinion, these Indians, like others of their
race, when living in communities, were of a very social disposition.
Besides their incessant dances and feasts, great and small, they were
continually visiting, spending most of their time in their neighbors'
houses, chatting, joking, bantering one another with witticisms, sharp,
broad, and in no sense delicate, yet always taken in good part. Every
village had its adepts in these wordy tournaments, while the shrill
laugh of young squaws, untaught to blush, echoed each hardy jest or
rough sarcasm.
In the organization of the savage communities of the continent, one
feature, more or less conspicuous, continually appears. Each nation or
tribe--to adopt the names by which these communities are usually
known--is subdivided into several clans. These clans are not locally
separate, but are mingled throughout the nation. All the members of each
clan are, or are assumed to be, intimately joined in consanguinity.
Hence it is held an abomination for two persons of the same clan to
intermarry; and hence, again, it follows that every family must contain
members of at least two clans. Each clan has its name, as the clan of
the Hawk, of the Wolf, or of the Tortoise; and each has for its emblem
the figure of the beast, bird, reptile, plant, or other object, from
which its name is derived. This emblem, called totem by the Algonquins,
is often tattooed on the clansman's body, or rudely painted over the
entrance of his lodge. The child belongs to the clan, not of the father,
but of the mother. In other words, descent, not of the totem alone, but
of all rank, titles, and possessions, is through the female. The son of
a chief can never be a chief by hereditary title, though he may become
so by force of personal influence or achievement. Neither can he inherit
from his father so much as a tobacco-pipe. All possessions alike pass of
right to the brothers of the chief, or to the sons of his sisters, since
these are all sprung from a common mother. This rule of descent was
noticed by Champlain among the Hurons in 1615. That excellent observer
refers it to an origin which is doubtless its true one. The child may
not be the son of his reputed father, but must be the son of his
mother,--a consideration of more than ordinary force in an Indian
community. [44]
[44] "Les enfans ne succedent iamais aux biens et dignitez de leurs
peres, doubtant comme i'ay dit de leur geniteur, mais bien font-ils
leurs successeurs et heritiers, les enfans de leurs sœurs, et desquels
ils sont asseurez d'estre yssus et sortis."--Champlain (1627), 91.
Captain John Smith had observed the same, several years before, among
the tribes of Virginia: "For the Crowne, their heyres inherite not, but
the first heyres of the Sisters."--True Relation, 43 (ed. Deane).
This system of clanship, with the rule of descent inseparable from it,
was of very wide prevalence. Indeed, it is more than probable that close
observation would have detected it in every tribe east of the
Mississippi; while there is positive evidence of its existence in by far
the greater number. It is found also among the Dahcotah and other tribes
west of the Mississippi; and there is reason to believe it universally
prevalent as far as the Rocky Mountains, and even beyond them. The fact
that with most of these hordes there is little property worth
transmission, and that the most influential becomes chief, with little
regard to inheritance, has blinded casual observers to the existence of
this curious system.
It was found in full development among the Creeks, Choctaws, Cherokees,
and other Southern tribes, including that remarkable people, the
Natchez, who, judged by their religious and political institutions, seem
a detached offshoot of the Toltec family. It is no less conspicuous
among the roving Algonquins of the extreme North, where the number of
totems is almost countless. Everywhere it formed the foundation of the
polity of all the tribes, where a polity could be said to exist.
The Franciscans and Jesuits, close students of the languages and
superstitions of the Indians, were by no means so zealous to analyze
their organization and government. In the middle of the seventeenth
century the Hurons as a nation had ceased to exist, and their political
portraiture, as handed down to us, is careless and unfinished. Yet some
decisive features are plainly shown. The Huron nation was a confederacy
of four distinct contiguous nations, afterwards increased to five by the
addition of the Tionnontates;--it was divided into clans;--it was
governed by chiefs, whose office was hereditary through the female;--the
power of these chiefs, though great, was wholly of a persuasive or
advisory character;--there were two principal chiefs, one for peace, the
other for war;--there were chiefs assigned to special national
functions, as the charge of the great Feast of the Dead, the direction
of trading voyages to other nations, etc.;--there were numerous other
chiefs, equal in rank, but very unequal in influence, since the measure
of their influence depended on the measure of their personal
ability;--each nation of the confederacy had a separate organization,
but at certain periods grand councils of the united nations were held,
at which were present, not chiefs only, but also a great concourse of
the people; and at these and other councils the chiefs and principal men
voted on proposed measures by means of small sticks or reeds, the
opinion of the plurality ruling. [45]
[45] These facts are gathered here and there from Champlain, Sagard,
Bressani, and the Jesuit Relations prior to 1650. Of the Jesuits,
Brébeuf is the most full and satisfactory. Lafitau and Charlevoix knew
the Huron institutions only through others.
The names of the four confederate Huron nations were the Ataronchronons,
Attignenonghac, Attignaouentans, and Ahrendarrhonons. There was also a
subordinate "nation" called Tohotaenrat, which had but one town. (See
the map of the Huron Country.) They all bore the name of some animal or
other object: thus the Attignaouentans were the Nation of the Bear. As
the clans are usually named after animals, this makes confusion, and may
easily lead to error. The Bear Nation was the principal member of the
league.
THE IROQUOIS.
The Iroquois were a people far more conspicuous in history, and their
institutions are not yet extinct. In early and recent times, they have
been closely studied, and no little light has been cast upon a subject
as difficult and obscure as it is curious. By comparing the statements
of observers, old and new, the character of their singular organization
becomes sufficiently clear. [46]
[46] Among modern students of Iroquois institutions, a place far in
advance of all others is due to Lewis H. Morgan, himself an Iroquois by
adoption, and intimate with the race from boyhood. His work, The League
of the Iroquois, is a production of most thorough and able research,
conducted under peculiar advantages, and with the aid of an efficient
co-laborer, Hasanoanda (Ely S. Parker), an educated and highly
intelligent Iroquois of the Seneca nation. Though often differing widely
from Mr. Morgan's conclusions, I cannot bear a too emphatic testimony to
the value of his researches. The Notes on the Iroquois of Mr. H. R.
Schoolcraft also contain some interesting facts; but here, as in all Mr.
Schoolcraft's productions, the reader must scrupulously reserve his
right of private judgment. None of the old writers are so satisfactory
as Lafitau. His work, Mœurs des Sauvages Ameriquains comparées aux Mœurs
des Premiers Temps, relates chiefly to the Iroquois and Hurons: the
basis for his account of the former being his own observations and those
of Father Julien Garnier, who was a missionary among them more than
sixty years, from his novitiate to his death.
Both reason and tradition point to the conclusion, that the Iroquois
formed originally one undivided people. Sundered, like countless other
tribes, by dissension, caprice, or the necessities of the hunter life,
they separated into five distinct nations, cantoned from east to west
along the centre of New York, in the following order: Mohawks, Oneidas,
Onondagas, Cayugas, Senecas. There was discord among them; wars
followed, and they lived in mutual fear, each ensconced in its palisaded
villages. At length, says tradition, a celestial being, incarnate on
earth, counselled them to compose their strife and unite in a league of
defence and aggression. Another personage, wholly mortal, yet
wonderfully endowed, a renowned warrior and a mighty magician, stands,
with his hair of writhing snakes, grotesquely conspicuous through the
dim light of tradition at this birth of Iroquois nationality. This was
Atotarho, a chief of the Onondagas; and from this honored source has
sprung a long line of chieftains, heirs not to the blood alone, but to
the name of their great predecessor. A few years since, there lived in
Onondaga Hollow a handsome Indian boy on whom the dwindled remnant of
the nation looked with pride as their destined Atotarho. With earthly
and celestial aid the league was consummated, and through all the land
the forests trembled at the name of the Iroquois.
The Iroquois people was divided into eight clans. When the original
stock was sundered into five parts, each of these clans was also
sundered into five parts; and as, by the principle already indicated,
the clans were intimately mingled in every village, hamlet, and cabin,
each one of the five nations had its portion of each of the eight clans.
[47] When the league was formed, these separate portions readily resumed
their ancient tie of fraternity. Thus, of the Turtle clan, all the
members became brothers again, nominal members of one family, whether
Mohawks, Oneidas, Onondagas, Cayugas, or Senecas; and so, too, of the
remaining clans. All the Iroquois, irrespective of nationality, were
therefore divided into eight families, each tracing its descent to a
common mother, and each designated by its distinctive emblem or totem.
This connection of clan or family was exceedingly strong, and by it the
five nations of the league were linked together as by an eightfold
chain.
[47] With a view to clearness, the above statement is made categorical.
It requires, however, to be qualified. It is not quite certain, that, at
the formation of the confederacy, there were eight clans, though there
is positive proof of the existence of seven. Neither is it certain,
that, at the separation, every clan was represented in every nation.
Among the Mohawks and Oneidas there is no positive proof of the
existence of more than three clans,--the Wolf, Bear, and Tortoise;
though there is presumptive evidence of the existence of several
others.--See Morgan, 81, note.
The eight clans of the Iroquois were as follows: Wolf, Bear, Beaver,
Tortoise, Deer, Snipe, Heron, Hawk. (Morgan, 79.) The clans of the Snipe
and the Heron are the same designated in an early French document as La
famille du Petit Pluvier and La famille du Grand Pluvier. (New York
Colonial Documents, IX. 47.) The anonymous author of this document adds
a ninth clan, that of the Potato, meaning the wild Indian potato,
Glycine apios. This clan, if it existed, was very inconspicuous, and of
little importance.
Remarkable analogies exist between Iroquois clanship and that of other
tribes. The eight clans of the Iroquois were separated into two
divisions, four in each. Originally, marriage was interdicted between
all the members of the same division, but in time the interdict was
limited to the members of the individual clans. Another tribe, the
Choctaws, remote from the Iroquois, and radically different in language,
had also eight clans, similarly divided, with a similar interdict of
marriage.--Gallatin, Synopsis, 109.
The Creeks, according to the account given by their old chief,
Sekopechi, to Mr. D. W. Eakins, were divided into nine clans, named in
most cases from animals: clanship being transmitted, as usual, through
the female.
The clans were by no means equal in numbers, influence, or honor. So
marked were the distinctions among them, that some of the early writers
recognize only the three most conspicuous,--those of the Tortoise, the
Bear, and the Wolf. To some of the clans, in each nation, belonged the
right of giving a chief to the nation and to the league. Others had the
right of giving three, or, in one case, four chiefs; while others could
give none. As Indian clanship was but an extension of the family
relation, these chiefs were, in a certain sense, hereditary; but the law
of inheritance, though binding, was extremely elastic, and capable of
stretching to the farthest limits of the clan. The chief was almost
invariably succeeded by a near relative, always through the female, as a
brother by the same mother, or a nephew by the sister's side. But if
these were manifestly unfit, they were passed over, and a chief was
chosen at a council of the clan from among remoter kindred. In these
cases, the successor is said to have been nominated by the matron of the
late chief's household. [48] Be this as it may, the choice was never
adverse to the popular inclination. The new chief was "raised up," or
installed, by a formal council of the sachems of the league; and on
entering upon his office, he dropped his own name, and assumed that
which, since the formation of the league, had belonged to this especial
chieftainship.
[48] Lafitau, I. 471.
The number of these principal chiefs, or, as they have been called by
way of distinction, sachems, varied in the several nations from eight to
fourteen. The sachems of the five nations, fifty in all, assembled in
council, formed the government of the confederacy. All met as equals,
but a peculiar dignity was ever attached to the Atotarho of the
Onondagas.
There was a class of subordinate chiefs, in no sense hereditary, but
rising to office by address, ability, or valor. Yet the rank was clearly
defined, and the new chief installed at a formal council. This class
embodied, as might be supposed, the best talent of the nation, and the
most prominent warriors and orators of the Iroquois have belonged to it.
In its character and functions, however, it was purely civil. Like the
sachems, these chiefs held their councils, and exercised an influence
proportionate to their number and abilities.
There was another council, between which and that of the subordinate
chiefs the line of demarcation seems not to have been very definite. The
Jesuit Lafitau calls it "the senate." Familiar with the Iroquois at the
height of their prosperity, he describes it as the central and
controlling power, so far, at least, as the separate nations were
concerned. In its character it was essentially popular, but popular in
the best sense, and one which can find its application only in a small
community. Any man took part in it whose age and experience qualified
him to do so. It was merely the gathered wisdom of the nation. Lafitau
compares it to the Roman Senate, in the early and rude age of the
Republic, and affirms that it loses nothing by the comparison. He thus
describes it: "It is a greasy assemblage, sitting sur leur derrière,
crouched like apes, their knees as high as their ears, or lying, some on
their bellies, some on their backs, each with a pipe in his mouth,
discussing affairs of state with as much coolness and gravity as the
Spanish Junta or the Grand Council of Venice." [49]
[49] Lafitau, I. 478.
The young warriors had also their councils; so, too, had the women; and
the opinions and wishes of each were represented by means of deputies
before the "senate," or council of the old men, as well as before the
grand confederate council of the sachems.
The government of this unique republic resided wholly in councils. By
councils all questions were settled, all regulations
established,--social, political, military, and religious. The war-path,
the chase, the council-fire,--in these was the life of the Iroquois; and
it is hard to say to which of the three he was most devoted.
The great council of the fifty sachems formed, as we have seen, the
government of the league. Whenever a subject arose before any of the
nations, of importance enough to demand its assembling, the sachems of
that nation might summon their colleagues by means of runners, bearing
messages and belts of wampum. The usual place of meeting was the valley
of Onondaga, the political as well as geographical centre of the
confederacy. Thither, if the matter were one of deep and general
interest, not the sachems alone, but the greater part of the population,
gathered from east and west, swarming in the hospitable lodges of the
town, or bivouacked by thousands in the surrounding fields and forests.
While the sachems deliberated in the council-house, the chiefs and old
men, the warriors, and often the women, were holding their respective
councils apart; and their opinions, laid by their deputies before the
council of sachems, were never without influence on its decisions.
The utmost order and deliberation reigned in the council, with rigorous
adherence to the Indian notions of parliamentary propriety. The
conference opened with an address to the spirits, or the chief of all
the spirits. There was no heat in debate. No speaker interrupted
another. Each gave his opinion in turn, supporting it with what reason
or rhetoric he could command,--but not until he had stated the subject
of discussion in full, to prove that he understood it, repeating also
the arguments, pro and con, of previous speakers. Thus their debates
were excessively prolix; and the consumption of tobacco was immoderate.
The result, however, was a thorough sifting of the matter in hand; while
the practised astuteness of these savage politicians was a marvel to
their civilized contemporaries. "It is by a most subtle policy," says
Lafitau, "that they have taken the ascendant over the other nations,
divided and overcome the most warlike, made themselves a terror to the
most remote, and now hold a peaceful neutrality between the French and
English, courted and feared by both." [50]
[50] Lafitau, I. 480.--Many other French writers speak to the same
effect. The following are the words of the soldier historian, La
Potherie, after describing the organization of the league: "C'est donc
là cette politique qui les unit si bien, à peu près comme tous les
ressorts d'une horloge, qui par une liaison admirable de toutes les
parties qui les composent, contribuent toutes unanimement au merveilleux
effet qui en resulte."--Hist. de l'Amérique Septentrionale, III. 32.--He
adds: "Les François ont avoüé eux-mêmes qu'ils étoient nez pour la
guerre, & quelques maux qu'ils nous ayent faits nous les avons toujours
estimez."--Ibid., 2.--La Potherie's book was published in 1722.
Unlike the Hurons, they required an entire unanimity in their decisions.
The ease and frequency with which a requisition seemingly so difficult
was fulfilled afford a striking illustration of Indian nature,--on one
side, so stubborn, tenacious, and impracticable; on the other, so pliant
and acquiescent. An explanation of this harmony is to be found also in
an intense spirit of nationality: for never since the days of Sparta
were individual life and national life more completely fused into one.
The sachems of the league were likewise, as we have seen, sachems of
their respective nations; yet they rarely spoke in the councils of the
subordinate chiefs and old men, except to present subjects of
discussion. [51] Their influence in these councils was, however, great,
and even paramount; for they commonly succeeded in securing to their
interest some of the most dexterous and influential of the conclave,
through whom, while they themselves remained in the background, they
managed the debates. [52]
[51] Lafitau, I. 479.
[52] The following from Lafitau is very characteristic: "Ce que je dis
de leur zèle pour le bien public n'est cependant pas si universel, que
plusieurs ne pensent à leur interêts particuliers, & que les Chefs
(sachems) principalement ne fassent joüer plusieurs ressorts secrets
pour venir à bout de leurs intrigues. Il y en a tel, dont l'adresse jouë
si bien à coup sûr, qu'il fait déliberer le Conseil plusieurs jours de
suite, sur une matière dont la détermination est arrêtée entre lui & les
principales têtes avant d'avoir été mise sur le tapis. Cependant comme
les Chefs s'entre-regardent, & qu'aucun ne veut paroître se donner une
superiorité qui puisse piquer la jalousie, ils se ménagent dans les
Conseils plus que les autres; & quoiqu'ils en soient l'ame, leur
politique les oblige à y parler peu, & à écouter plûtôt le sentiment
d'autrui, qu'à y dire le leur; mais chacun a un homme à sa main, qui est
comme une espèce de Brûlot, & qui étant sans consequence pour sa
personne hazarde en pleine liberté tout ce qu'il juge à propos, selon
qu'il l'a concerté avec le Chef même pour qui il agit."--Mœurs des
Sauvages, I. 481.
There was a class of men among the Iroquois always put forward on public
occasions to speak the mind of the nation or defend its interests.
Nearly all of them were of the number of the subordinate chiefs. Nature
and training had fitted them for public speaking, and they were deeply
versed in the history and traditions of the league. They were in fact
professed orators, high in honor and influence among the people. To a
huge stock of conventional metaphors, the use of which required nothing
but practice, they often added an astute intellect, an astonishing
memory, and an eloquence which deserved the name.
In one particular, the training of these savage politicians was never
surpassed. They had no art of writing to record events, or preserve the
stipulations of treaties. Memory, therefore, was tasked to the utmost,
and developed to an extraordinary degree. They had various devices for
aiding it, such as bundles of sticks, and that system of signs, emblems,
and rude pictures, which they shared with other tribes. Their famous
wampum-belts were so many mnemonic signs, each standing for some act,
speech, treaty, or clause of a treaty. These represented the public
archives, and were divided among various custodians, each charged with
the memory and interpretation of those assigned to him. The meaning of
the belts was from time to time expounded in their councils. In
conferences with them, nothing more astonished the French, Dutch, and
English officials than the precision with which, before replying to
their addresses, the Indian orators repeated them point by point.
It was only in rare cases that crime among the Iroquois or Hurons was
punished by public authority. Murder, the most heinous offence, except
witchcraft, recognized among them, was rare. If the slayer and the slain
were of the same household or clan, the affair was regarded as a family
quarrel, to be settled by the immediate kin on both sides. This, under
the pressure of public opinion, was commonly effected without bloodshed,
by presents given in atonement. But if the murderer and his victim were
of different clans or different nations, still more, if the slain was a
foreigner, the whole community became interested to prevent the discord
or the war which might arise. All directed their efforts, not to bring
the murderer to punishment, but to satisfy the injured parties by a
vicarious atonement. [53] To this end, contributions were made and
presents collected. Their number and value were determined by
established usage. Among the Hurons, thirty presents of very
considerable value were the price of a man's life. That of a woman's was
fixed at forty, by reason of her weakness, and because on her depended
the continuance and increase of the population. This was when the slain
belonged to the nation. If of a foreign tribe, his death demanded a
higher compensation, since it involved the danger of war. [54] These
presents were offered in solemn council, with prescribed formalities.
The relatives of the slain might refuse them, if they chose, and in this
case the murderer was given them as a slave; but they might by no means
kill him, since, in so doing, they would incur public censure, and be
compelled in their turn to make atonement. Besides the principal gifts,
there was a great number of less value, all symbolical, and each
delivered with a set form of words: as, "By this we wash out the blood
of the slain: By this we cleanse his wound: By this we clothe his corpse
with a new shirt: By this we place food on his grave": and so, in
endless prolixity, through particulars without number. [55]
[53] Lalemant, while inveighing against a practice which made the
public, and not the criminal, answerable for an offence, admits that
heinous crimes were more rare than in France, where the guilty party
himself was punished.--Lettre au P. Provincial, 15 May, 1645.
[54] Ragueneau, Relation des Hurons, 1648, 80.
[55] Ragueneau, Relation des Hurons, 1648, gives a description of one of
these ceremonies at length. Those of the Iroquois on such occasions were
similar. Many other tribes had the same custom, but attended with much
less form and ceremony. Compare Perrot, 73-76.
The Hurons were notorious thieves; and perhaps the Iroquois were not
much better, though the contrary has been asserted. Among both, the
robbed was permitted not only to retake his property by force, if he
could, but to strip the robber of all he had. This apparently acted as a
restraint in favor only of the strong, leaving the weak a prey to the
plunderer; but here the tie of family and clan intervened to aid him.
Relatives and clansmen espoused the quarrel of him who could not right
himself. [56]
[56] The proceedings for detecting thieves were regular and methodical,
after established customs. According to Bressani, no thief ever
inculpated the innocent.
Witches, with whom the Hurons and Iroquois were grievously infested,
were objects of utter abomination to both, and any one might kill them
at any time. If any person was guilty of treason, or by his character
and conduct made himself dangerous or obnoxious to the public, the
council of chiefs and old men held a secret session on his case,
condemned him to death, and appointed some young man to kill him. The
executioner, watching his opportunity, brained or stabbed him unawares,
usually in the dark porch of one of the houses. Acting by authority, he
could not be held answerable; and the relatives of the slain had no
redress, even if they desired it. The council, however, commonly
obviated all difficulty in advance, by charging the culprit with
witchcraft, thus alienating his best friends.
The military organization of the Iroquois was exceedingly imperfect and
derived all its efficiency from their civil union and their personal
prowess. There were two hereditary war-chiefs, both belonging to the
Senecas; but, except on occasions of unusual importance, it does not
appear that they took a very active part in the conduct of wars. The
Iroquois lived in a state of chronic warfare with nearly all the
surrounding tribes, except a few from whom they exacted tribute. Any man
of sufficient personal credit might raise a war-party when he chose. He
proclaimed his purpose through the village, sang his war-songs, struck
his hatchet into the war-post, and danced the war-dance. Any who chose
joined him; and the party usually took up their march at once, with a
little parched-corn-meal and maple-sugar as their sole provision. On
great occasions, there was concert of action,--the various parties
meeting at a rendezvous, and pursuing the march together. The leaders of
war-parties, like the orators, belonged, in nearly all cases, to the
class of subordinate chiefs. The Iroquois had a discipline suited to the
dark and tangled forests where they fought. Here they were a terrible
foe: in an open country, against a trained European force, they were,
despite their ferocious valor, far less formidable.
In observing this singular organization, one is struck by the
incongruity of its spirit and its form. A body of hereditary oligarchs
was the head of the nation, yet the nation was essentially democratic.
Not that the Iroquois were levellers. None were more prompt to
acknowledge superiority and defer to it, whether established by usage
and prescription, or the result of personal endowment. Yet each man,
whether of high or low degree, had a voice in the conduct of affairs,
and was never for a moment divorced from his wild spirit of
independence. Where there was no property worthy the name, authority had
no fulcrum and no hold. The constant aim of sachems and chiefs was to
exercise it without seeming to do so. They had no insignia of office.
They were no richer than others; indeed, they were often poorer,
spending their substance in largesses and bribes to strengthen their
influence. They hunted and fished for subsistence; they were as foul,
greasy, and unsavory as the rest; yet in them, withal, was often seen a
native dignity of bearing, which ochre and bear's grease could not hide,
and which comported well with their strong, symmetrical, and sometimes
majestic proportions.
To the institutions, traditions, rites, usages, and festivals of the
league the Iroquois was inseparably wedded. He clung to them with Indian
tenacity; and he clings to them still. His political fabric was one of
ancient ideas and practices, crystallized into regular and enduring
forms. In its component parts it has nothing peculiar to itself. All its
elements are found in other tribes: most of them belong to the whole
Indian race. Undoubtedly there was a distinct and definite effort of
legislation; but Iroquois legislation invented nothing. Like all sound
legislation, it built of materials already prepared. It organized the
chaotic past, and gave concrete forms to Indian nature itself. The
people have dwindled and decayed; but, banded by its ties of clan and
kin, the league, in feeble miniature, still subsists, and the degenerate
Iroquois looks back with a mournful pride to the glory of the past.
Would the Iroquois, left undisturbed to work out their own destiny, ever
have emerged from the savage state? Advanced as they were beyond most
other American tribes, there is no indication whatever of a tendency to
overpass the confines of a wild hunter and warrior life. They were
inveterately attached to it, impracticable conservatists of barbarism,
and in ferocity and cruelty they matched the worst of their race. Nor
did the power of expansion apparently belonging to their system ever
produce much result. Between the years 1712 and 1715, the Tuscaroras, a
kindred people, were admitted into the league as a sixth nation; but
they were never admitted on equal terms. Long after, in the period of
their decline, several other tribes were announced as new members of the
league; but these admissions never took effect. The Iroquois were always
reluctant to receive other tribes, or parts of tribes, collectively,
into the precincts of the "Long House." Yet they constantly practised a
system of adoptions, from which, though cruel and savage, they drew
great advantages. Their prisoners of war, when they had burned and
butchered as many of them as would serve to sate their own ire and that
of their women, were divided, man by man, woman by woman, and child by
child, adopted into different families and clans, and thus incorporated
into the nation. It was by this means, and this alone, that they could
offset the losses of their incessant wars. Early in the eighteenth
century, and even long before, a vast proportion of their population
consisted of adopted prisoners. [57]
[57] Relation, 1660, 7 (anonymous). The Iroquois were at the height of
their prosperity about the year 1650. Morgan reckons their number at
this time at 25,000 souls; but this is far too high an estimate. The
author of the Relation of 1660 makes their whole number of warriors
2,200. Le Mercier, in the Relation of 1665, says 2,350. In the Journal
of Greenhalgh, an Englishman who visited them in 1677, their warriors
are set down at 2,150. Du Chesneau, in 1681, estimates them at 2,000; De
la Barre, in 1684, at 2,600, they having been strengthened by adoptions.
A memoir addressed to the Marquis de Seignelay, in 1687, again makes
them 2,000. (See N. Y. Col. Docs., IX. 162, 196, 321.) These estimates
imply a total population of ten or twelve thousand.
The anonymous writer of the Relation of 1660 may well remark: "It is
marvellous that so few should make so great a havoc, and strike such
terror into so many tribes."
It remains to speak of the religious and superstitious ideas which so
deeply influenced Indian life.
RELIGION AND SUPERSTITIONS.
The religious belief of the North-American Indians seems, on a first
view, anomalous and contradictory. It certainly is so, if we adopt the
popular impression. Romance, Poetry, and Rhetoric point, on the one
hand, to the august conception of a one all-ruling Deity, a Great
Spirit, omniscient and omnipresent; and we are called to admire the
untutored intellect which could conceive a thought too vast for Socrates
and Plato. On the other hand, we find a chaos of degrading, ridiculous,
and incoherent superstitions. A closer examination will show that the
contradiction is more apparent than real. We will begin with the lowest
forms of Indian belief, and thence trace it upward to the highest
conceptions to which the unassisted mind of the savage attained.
To the Indian, the material world is sentient and intelligent. Birds,
beasts, and reptiles have ears for human prayers, and are endowed with
an influence on human destiny. A mysterious and inexplicable power
resides in inanimate things. They, too, can listen to the voice of man,
and influence his life for evil or for good. Lakes, rivers, and
waterfalls are sometimes the dwelling-place of spirits; but more
frequently they are themselves living beings, to be propitiated by
prayers and offerings. The lake has a soul; and so has the river, and
the cataract. Each can hear the words of men, and each can be pleased or
offended. In the silence of a forest, the gloom of a deep ravine,
resides a living mystery, indefinite, but redoubtable. Through all the
works of Nature or of man, nothing exists, however seemingly trivial,
that may not be endowed with a secret power for blessing or for bane.
Men and animals are closely akin. Each species of animal has its great
archetype, its progenitor or king, who is supposed to exist somewhere,
prodigious in size, though in shape and nature like his subjects. A
belief prevails, vague, but perfectly apparent, that men themselves owe
their first parentage to beasts, birds, or reptiles, as bears, wolves,
tortoises, or cranes; and the names of the totemic clans, borrowed in
nearly every case from animals, are the reflection of this idea. [58]
[58] This belief occasionally takes a perfectly definite shape. There
was a tradition among Northern and Western tribes, that men were created
from the carcasses of beasts, birds, and fishes, by Manabozho, a
mythical personage, to be described hereafter. The Amikouas, or People
of the Beaver, an Algonquin tribe of Lake Huron, claimed descent from
the carcass of the great original beaver, or father of the beavers. They
believed that the rapids and cataracts on the French River and the Upper
Ottawa were caused by dams made by their amphibious ancestor. (See the
tradition in Perrot, Mémoire sur les Mœurs, Coustumes et Relligion des
Sauvages de l'Amérique Septentrionale, p. 20.) Charlevoix tells the same
story. Each Indian was supposed to inherit something of the nature of
the animal whence he sprung.
An Indian hunter was always anxious to propitiate the animals he sought
to kill. He has often been known to address a wounded bear in a long
harangue of apology. [59] The bones of the beaver were treated with
especial tenderness, and carefully kept from the dogs, lest the spirit
of the dead beaver, or his surviving brethren, should take offence. [60]
This solicitude was not confined to animals, but extended to inanimate
things. A remarkable example occurred among the Hurons, a people
comparatively advanced, who, to propitiate their fishing-nets, and
persuade them to do their office with effect, married them every year to
two young girls of the tribe, with a ceremony more formal than that
observed in the case of mere human wedlock. [61] The fish, too, no less
than the nets, must be propitiated; and to this end they were addressed
every evening from the fishing-camp by one of the party chosen for that
function, who exhorted them to take courage and be caught, assuring them
that the utmost respect should be shown to their bones. The harangue,
which took place after the evening meal, was made in solemn form; and
while it lasted, the whole party, except the speaker, were required to
lie on their backs, silent and motionless, around the fire. [62]
[59] McKinney, Tour to the Lakes, 284, mentions the discomposure of a
party of Indians when shown a stuffed moose. Thinking that its spirit
would be offended at the indignity shown to its remains, they surrounded
it, making apologetic speeches, and blowing tobacco-smoke at it as a
propitiatory offering.
[60] This superstition was very prevalent, and numerous examples of it
occur in old and recent writers, from Father Le Jeune to Captain Carver.
[61] There are frequent allusions to this ceremony in the early writers.
The Algonquins of the Ottawa practised it, as well as the Hurons.
Lalemant, in his chapter "Du Regne de Satan en ces Contrées" (Relation
des Hurons, 1639), says that it took place yearly, in the middle of
March. As it was indispensable that the brides should be virgins, mere
children were chosen. The net was held between them; and its spirit, or
oki, was harangued by one of the chiefs, who exhorted him to do his part
in furnishing the tribe with food. Lalemant was told that the spirit of
the net had once appeared in human form to the Algonquins, complaining
that he had lost his wife, and warning them, that, unless they could
find him another equally immaculate, they would catch no more fish.
[62] Sagard, Le Grand Voyage du Pays des Hurons, 257. Other old writers
make a similar statement.
Besides ascribing life and intelligence to the material world, animate
and inanimate, the Indian believes in supernatural existences, known
among the Algonquins as Manitous, and among the Iroquois and Hurons as
Okies or Otkons. These words comprehend all forms of supernatural being,
from the highest to the lowest, with the exception, possibly, of certain
diminutive fairies or hobgoblins, and certain giants and anomalous
monsters, which appear under various forms, grotesque and horrible, in
the Indian fireside legends. [63] There are local manitous of streams,
rocks, mountains, cataracts, and forests. The conception of these beings
betrays, for the most part, a striking poverty of imagination. In nearly
every case, when they reveal themselves to mortal sight, they bear the
semblance of beasts, reptiles, or birds, in shapes unusual or distorted.
[64] There are other manitous without local habitation, some good, some
evil, countless in number and indefinite in attributes. They fill the
world, and control the destinies of men,--that is to say, of Indians:
for the primitive Indian holds that the white man lives under a
spiritual rule distinct from that which governs his own fate. These
beings, also, appear for the most part in the shape of animals.
Sometimes, however, they assume human proportions; but more frequently
they take the form of stones, which, being broken, are found full of
living blood and flesh.
[63] Many tribes have tales of diminutive beings, which, in the absence
of a better word, may be called fairies. In the Travels of Lewis and
Clarke, there is mention of a hill on the Missouri, supposed to be
haunted by them. These Western fairies correspond to the Puck Wudj
Ininee of Ojibwa tradition. As an example of the monsters alluded to,
see the Saginaw story of the Weendigoes, in Schoolcraft, Algic
Researches, II. 105.
[64] The figure of a large bird is perhaps the most common,--as, for
example, the good spirit of Rock Island: "He was white, with wings like
a swan, but ten times larger."--Autobiography of Blackhawk, 70.
Each primitive Indian has his guardian manitou, to whom he looks for
counsel, guidance, and protection. These spiritual allies are gained by
the following process. At the age of fourteen or fifteen, the Indian boy
blackens his face, retires to some solitary place, and remains for days
without food. Superstitious expectancy and the exhaustion of abstinence
rarely fail of their results. His sleep is haunted by visions, and the
form which first or most often appears is that of his guardian
manitou,--a beast, a bird, a fish, a serpent, or some other object,
animate or inanimate. An eagle or a bear is the vision of a destined
warrior; a wolf, of a successful hunter; while a serpent foreshadows the
future medicine-man, or, according to others, portends disaster. [65]
The young Indian thenceforth wears about his person the object revealed
in his dream, or some portion of it,--as a bone, a feather, a
snake-skin, or a tuft of hair. This, in the modern language of the
forest and prairie, is known as his "medicine." The Indian yields to it
a sort of worship, propitiates it with offerings of tobacco, thanks it
in prosperity, and upbraids it in disaster. [66] If his medicine fails
to bring the desired success, he will sometimes discard it and adopt
another. The superstition now becomes mere fetich-worship, since the
Indian regards the mysterious object which he carries about him rather
as an embodiment than as a representative of a supernatural power.
[65] Compare Cass, in North-American Review, Second Series, XIII. 100. A
turkey-buzzard, according to him, is the vision of a medicine-man. I
once knew an old Dahcotah chief, who was greatly respected, but had
never been to war, though belonging to a family of peculiarly warlike
propensities. The reason was, that, in his initiatory fast, he had
dreamed of an antelope,--the peace-spirit of his people.
Women fast, as well as men,--always at the time of transition from
childhood to maturity. In the Narrative of John Tanner, there is an
account of an old woman who had fasted, in her youth, for ten days, and
throughout her life placed the firmest faith in the visions which had
appeared to her at that time. Among the Northern Algonquins, the
practice, down to a recent day, was almost universal.
[66] The author has seen a Dahcotah warrior open his medicine-bag, talk
with an air of affectionate respect to the bone, feather, or horn
within, and blow tobacco-smoke upon it as an offering. "Medicines" are
acquired not only by fasting, but by casual dreams, and otherwise. They
are sometimes even bought and sold. For a curious account of
medicine-bags and fetich-worship among the Algonquins of Gaspé, see Le
Clerc, Nouvelle Relation de la Gaspésie, Chap. XIII.
Indian belief recognizes also another and very different class of
beings. Besides the giants and monsters of legendary lore, other
conceptions may be discerned, more or less distinct, and of a character
partly mythical. Of these the most conspicuous is that remarkable
personage of Algonquin tradition, called Manabozho, Messou, Michabou,
Nanabush, or the Great Hare. As each species of animal has its archetype
or king, so, among the Algonquins, Manabozho is king of all these animal
kings. Tradition is diverse as to his origin. According to the most
current belief, his father was the West-Wind, and his mother a
great-granddaughter of the Moon. His character is worthy of such a
parentage. Sometimes he is a wolf, a bird, or a gigantic hare,
surrounded by a court of quadrupeds; sometimes he appears in human
shape, majestic in stature and wondrous in endowment, a mighty magician,
a destroyer of serpents and evil manitous; sometimes he is a vain and
treacherous imp, full of childish whims and petty trickery, the butt and
victim of men, beasts, and spirits. His powers of transformation are
without limit; his curiosity and malice are insatiable; and of the
numberless legends of which he is the hero, the greater part are as
trivial as they are incoherent. [67] It does not appear that Manabozho
was ever an object of worship; yet, despite his absurdity, tradition
declares him to be chief among the manitous, in short, the "Great
Spirit." [68] It was he who restored the world, submerged by a deluge.
He was hunting in company with a certain wolf, who was his brother, or,
by other accounts, his grandson, when his quadruped relative fell
through the ice of a frozen lake, and was at once devoured by certain
serpents lurking in the depths of the waters. Manabozho, intent on
revenge, transformed himself into the stump of a tree, and by this
artifice surprised and slew the king of the serpents, as he basked with
his followers in the noontide sun. The serpents, who were all manitous,
caused, in their rage, the waters of the lake to deluge the earth.
Manabozho climbed a tree, which, in answer to his entreaties, grew as
the flood rose around it, and thus saved him from the vengeance of the
evil spirits. Submerged to the neck, he looked abroad on the waste of
waters, and at length descried the bird known as the loon, to whom he
appealed for aid in the task of restoring the world. The loon dived in
search of a little mud, as material for reconstruction, but could not
reach the bottom. A musk-rat made the same attempt, but soon reappeared
floating on his back, and apparently dead. Manabozho, however, on
searching his paws, discovered in one of them a particle of the desired
mud, and of this, together with the body of the loon, created the world
anew. [69]
[67] Mr. Schoolcraft has collected many of these tales. See his Algic
Researches, Vol. I. Compare the stories of Messou, given by Le Jeune
(Relations, 1633, 1634), and the account of Nanabush, by Edwin James, in
his notes to Tanner's Narrative of Captivity and Adventures during a
Thirty-Years' Residence among the Indians; also the account of the Great
Hare, in the Mémoire of Nicolas Perrot, Chaps. I., II.
[68] "Presque toutes les Nations Algonquines ont donné le nom de Grand
Lièvre au Premier Esprit, quelques-uns l'appellent Michabou
(Manabozho)."--Charlevoix, Journal Historique, 344.
[69] This is a form of the story still current among the remoter
Algonquins. Compare the story of Messou, in Le Jeune, Relation, 1633,
16. It is substantially the same.
There are various forms of this tradition, in some of which Manabozho
appears, not as the restorer, but as the creator of the world, forming
mankind from the carcasses of beasts, birds, and fishes. [70] Other
stories represent him as marrying a female musk-rat, by whom he became
the progenitor of the human race. [71]
[70] In the beginning of all things, Manabozho, in the form of the Great
Hare, was on a raft, surrounded by animals who acknowledged him as their
chief. No land could be seen. Anxious to create the world, the Great
Hare persuaded the beaver to dive for mud; but the adventurous diver
floated to the surface senseless. The otter next tried, and failed like
his predecessor. The musk-rat now offered himself for the desperate
task. He plunged, and, after remaining a day and night beneath the
surface, reappeared, floating on his back beside the raft, apparently
dead, and with all his paws fast closed. On opening them, the other
animals found in one of them a grain of sand, and of this the Great Hare
created the world.--Perrot, Mémoire, Chap. I.
[71] Le Jeune, Relation, 1633, 16.--The musk-rat is always a conspicuous
figure in Algonquin cosmogony.
It is said that Messou, or Manabozho, once gave to an Indian the gift of
immortality, tied in a bundle, enjoining him never to open it. The
Indian's wife, however, impelled by curiosity, one day cut the string,
the precious gift flew out, and Indians have ever since been subject to
death. Le Jeune, Relation, 1634, 13.
Searching for some higher conception of supernatural existence, we find,
among a portion of the primitive Algonquins, traces of a vague belief in
a spirit dimly shadowed forth under the name of Atahocan, to whom it
does not appear that any attributes were ascribed or any worship
offered, and of whom the Indians professed to know nothing whatever;
[72] but there is no evidence that this belief extended beyond certain
tribes of the Lower St. Lawrence. Others saw a supreme manitou in the
Sun. [73] The Algonquins believed also in a malignant manitou, in whom
the early missionaries failed not to recognize the Devil, but who was
far less dreaded than his wife. She wore a robe made of the hair of her
victims, for she was the cause of death; and she it was whom, by
yelling, drumming, and stamping, they sought to drive away from the
sick. Sometimes, at night, she was seen by some terrified squaw in the
forest, in shape like a flame of fire; and when the vision was announced
to the circle crouched around the lodge-fire, they burned a fragment of
meat to appease the female fiend.
[72] Le Jeune, Relation, 1633, 16; Relation, 1634, 13.
[73] Biard, Relation, 1611, Chap. VIII.--This belief was very prevalent.
The Ottawas, according to Ragueneau (Relation des Hurons, 1648, 77),
were accustomed to invoke the "Maker of Heaven" at their feasts; but
they recognized as distinct persons the Maker of the Earth, the Maker of
Winter, the God of the Waters, and the Seven Spirits of the Wind. He
says, at the same time, "The people of these countries have received
from their ancestors no knowledge of a God"; and he adds, that there is
no sentiment of religion in this invocation.
The East, the West, the North, and the South were vaguely personified as
spirits or manitous. Some of the winds, too, were personal existences.
The West-Wind, as we have seen, was father of Manabozho. There was a
Summer-Maker and a Winter-Maker; and the Indians tried to keep the
latter at bay by throwing firebrands into the air.
When we turn from the Algonquin family of tribes to that of the
Iroquois, we find another cosmogony, and other conceptions of spiritual
existence. While the earth was as yet a waste of waters, there was,
according to Iroquois and Huron traditions, a heaven with lakes,
streams, plains, and forests, inhabited by animals, by spirits, and, as
some affirm, by human beings. Here a certain female spirit, named
Ataentsic, was once chasing a bear, which, slipping through a hole, fell
down to the earth. Ataentsic's dog followed, when she herself, struck
with despair, jumped after them. Others declare that she was kicked out
of heaven by the spirit, her husband, for an amour with a man; while
others, again, hold the belief that she fell in the attempt to gather
for her husband the medicinal leaves of a certain tree. Be this as it
may, the animals swimming in the watery waste below saw her falling, and
hastily met in council to determine what should be done. The case was
referred to the beaver. The beaver commended it to the judgment of the
tortoise, who thereupon called on the other animals to dive, bring up
mud, and place it on his back. Thus was formed a floating island, on
which Ataentsic fell; and here, being pregnant, she was soon delivered
of a daughter, who in turn bore two boys, whose paternity is
unexplained. They were called Taouscaron and Jouskeha, and presently
fell to blows, Jouskeha killing his brother with the horn of a stag. The
back of the tortoise grew into a world full of verdure and life; and
Jouskeha, with his grandmother, Ataentsic, ruled over its destinies.
[74]
[74] The above is the version of the story given by Brébeuf, Relation
des Hurons, 1636, 86 (Cramoisy). No two Indians told it precisely alike,
though nearly all the Hurons and Iroquois agreed as to its essential
points. Compare Vanderdonck, Cusick, Sagard, and other writers.
According to Vanderdonck, Ataentsic became mother of a deer, a bear, and
a wolf, by whom she afterwards bore all the other animals, mankind
included. Brébeuf found also among the Hurons a tradition inconsistent
with that of Ataentsic, and bearing a trace of Algonquin origin. It
declares, that, in the beginning, a man, a fox, and a skunk found
themselves together on an island, and that the man made the world out of
mud brought him by the skunk.
The Delawares, an Algonquin tribe, seem to have borrowed somewhat of the
Iroquois cosmogony, since they believed that the earth was formed on the
back of a tortoise.
According to some, Jouskeha became the father of the human race; but, in
the third generation, a deluge destroyed his posterity, so that it was
necessary to transform animals into men.--Charlevoix, III. 345.
He is the Sun; she is the Moon. He is beneficent; but she is malignant,
like the female demon of the Algonquins. They have a bark house, made
like those of the Iroquois, at the end of the earth, and they often come
to feasts and dances in the Indian villages. Jouskeha raises corn for
himself, and makes plentiful harvests for mankind. Sometimes he is seen,
thin as a skeleton, with a spike of shrivelled corn in his hand, or
greedily gnawing a human limb; and then the Indians know that a grievous
famine awaits them. He constantly interposes between mankind and the
malice of his wicked grandmother, whom, at times, he soundly cudgels. It
was he who made lakes and streams: for once the earth was parched and
barren, all the water being gathered under the armpit of a colossal
frog; but Jouskeha pierced the armpit, and let out the water. No prayers
were offered to him, his benevolent nature rendering them superfluous.
[75]
[75] Compare Brébeuf, as before cited, and Sagard, Voyage des Hurons, p.
228.
The early writers call Jouskeha the creator of the world, and speak of
him as corresponding to the vague Algonquin deity, Atahocan. Another
deity appears in Iroquois mythology, with equal claims to be regarded as
supreme. He is called Areskoui, or Agreskoui, and his most prominent
attributes are those of a god of war. He was often invoked, and the
flesh of animals and of captive enemies was burned in his honor. [76]
Like Jouskeha, he was identified with the sun; and he is perhaps to be
regarded as the same being, under different attributes. Among the
Iroquois proper, or Five Nations, there was also a divinity called
Tarenyowagon, or Teharonhiawagon, [77] whose place and character it is
very difficult to determine. In some traditions he appears as the son of
Jouskeha. He had a prodigious influence; for it was he who spoke to men
in dreams. The Five Nations recognized still another superhuman
personage,--plainly a deified chief or hero. This was Taounyawatha, or
Hiawatha, said to be a divinely appointed messenger, who made his abode
on earth for the political and social instruction of the chosen race,
and whose counterpart is to be found in the traditions of the Peruvians,
Mexicans, and other primitive nations. [78]
[76] Father Jogues saw a female prisoner burned to Areskoui, and two
bears offered to him to atone for the sin of not burning more
captives.--Lettre de Jogues, 5 Aug., 1643.
[77] Le Mercier, Relation, 1670, 66; Dablon, Relation, 1671, 17. Compare
Cusick, Megapolensis, and Vanderdonck. Some writers identify
Tarenyowagon and Hiawatha. Vanderdonck assumes that Areskoui is the
Devil, and Tarenyowagon is God. Thus Indian notions are often
interpreted by the light of preconceived ideas.
[78] For the tradition of Hiawatha, see Clark, History of Onondaga, I.
21. It will also be found in Schoolcraft's Notes on the Iroquois, and in
his History, Condition, and Prospects of Indian Tribes.
The Iroquois name for God is Hawenniio, sometimes written Owayneo; but
this use of the word is wholly due to the missionaries. Hawenniio is an
Iroquois verb, and means, he rules, he is master. There is no Iroquois
word which, in its primitive meaning, can be interpreted, the Great
Spirit, or God. On this subject, see Études Philologiques sur quelques
Langues Sauvages (Montreal, 1866), where will also be found a curious
exposure of a few of Schoolcraft's ridiculous blunders in this
connection.
Close examination makes it evident that the primitive Indian's idea of a
Supreme Being was a conception no higher than might have been expected.
The moment he began to contemplate this object of his faith, and sought
to clothe it with attributes, it became finite, and commonly ridiculous.
The Creator of the World stood on the level of a barbarous and degraded
humanity, while a natural tendency became apparent to look beyond him to
other powers sharing his dominion. The Indian belief, if developed,
would have developed into a system of polytheism. [79]
[79] Some of the early writers could discover no trace of belief in a
supreme spirit of any kind. Perrot, after a life spent among the
Indians, ignores such an idea. Allouez emphatically denies that it
existed among the tribes of Lake Superior. (Relation, 1667, 11.) He
adds, however, that the Sacs and Foxes believed in a great génie, who
lived not far from the French settlements.--Ibid., 21.
In the primitive Indian's conception of a God the idea of moral good has
no part. His deity does not dispense justice for this world or the next,
but leaves mankind under the power of subordinate spirits, who fill and
control the universe. Nor is the good and evil of these inferior beings
a moral good and evil. The good spirit is the spirit that gives good
luck, and ministers to the necessities and desires of mankind: the evil
spirit is simply a malicious agent of disease, death, and mischance.
In no Indian language could the early missionaries find a word to
express the idea of God. Manitou and Oki meant anything endowed with
supernatural powers, from a snake-skin, or a greasy Indian conjurer, up
to Manabozho and Jouskeha. The priests were forced to use a
circumlocution,--"The Great Chief of Men," or "He who lives in the Sky."
[80] Yet it should seem that the idea of a supreme controlling spirit
might naturally arise from the peculiar character of Indian belief. The
idea that each race of animals has its archetype or chief would easily
suggest the existence of a supreme chief of the spirits or of the human
race,--a conception imperfectly shadowed forth in Manabozho. The Jesuit
missionaries seized this advantage. "If each sort of animal has its
king," they urged, "so, too, have men; and as man is above all the
animals, so is the spirit that rules over men the master of all the
other spirits." The Indian mind readily accepted the idea, and tribes in
no sense Christian quickly rose to the belief in one controlling spirit.
The Great Spirit became a distinct existence, a pervading power in the
universe, and a dispenser of justice. Many tribes now pray to him,
though still clinging obstinately to their ancient superstitions; and
with some, as the heathen portion of the modern Iroquois, he is clothed
with attributes of moral good. [81]
[80] See "Divers Sentimens," appended to the Relation of 1635, § 27; and
also many other passages of early missionaries.
[81] In studying the writers of the last and of the present century, it
is to be remembered that their observations were made upon savages who
had been for generations in contact, immediate or otherwise, with the
doctrines of Christianity. Many observers have interpreted the religious
ideas of the Indians after preconceived ideas of their own; and it may
safely be affirmed that an Indian will respond with a grunt of
acquiescence to any question whatever touching his spiritual state.
Loskiel and the simple-minded Heckewelder write from a missionary point
of view; Adair, to support a theory of descent from the Jews; the worthy
theologian, Jarvis, to maintain his dogma, that all religious ideas of
the heathen world are perversions of revelation; and so, in a greater or
less degree, of many others. By far the most close and accurate
observers of Indian superstition were the French and Italian Jesuits of
the first half of the seventeenth century. Their opportunities were
unrivalled; and they used them in a spirit of faithful inquiry,
accumulating facts, and leaving theory to their successors. Of recent
American writers, no one has given so much attention to the subject as
Mr. Schoolcraft; but, in view of his opportunities and his zeal, his
results are most unsatisfactory. The work in six large quarto volumes,
History, Condition, and Prospects of Indian Tribes, published by
Government under his editorship, includes the substance of most of his
previous writings. It is a singularly crude and illiterate production,
stuffed with blunders and contradictions, giving evidence on every page
of a striking unfitness either for historical or philosophical inquiry,
and taxing to the utmost the patience of those who would extract what is
valuable in it from its oceans of pedantic verbiage.
The primitive Indian believed in the immortality of the soul, [82] but
he did not always believe in a state of future reward and punishment.
Nor, when such a belief existed, was the good to be rewarded a moral
good, or the evil to be punished a moral evil. Skilful hunters, brave
warriors, men of influence and consideration, went, after death, to the
happy hunting-ground; while the slothful, the cowardly, and the weak
were doomed to eat serpents and ashes in dreary regions of mist and
darkness. In the general belief, however, there was but one land of
shades for all alike. The spirits, in form and feature as they had been
in life, wended their way through dark forests to the villages of the
dead, subsisting on bark and rotten wood. On arriving, they sat all day
in the crouching posture of the sick, and, when night came, hunted the
shades of animals, with the shades of bows and arrows, among the shades
of trees and rocks: for all things, animate and inanimate, were alike
immortal, and all passed together to the gloomy country of the dead.
[82] The exceptions are exceedingly rare. Father Gravier says that a
Peoria Indian once told him that there was no future life. It would be
difficult to find another instance of the kind.
The belief respecting the land of souls varied greatly in different
tribes and different individuals. Among the Hurons there were those who
held that departed spirits pursued their journey through the sky, along
the Milky Way, while the souls of dogs took another route, by certain
constellations, known as the "Way of the Dogs." [83]
[83] Sagard, Voyage des Hurons, 233.
At intervals of ten or twelve years, the Hurons, the Neutrals, and other
kindred tribes, were accustomed to collect the bones of their dead, and
deposit them, with great ceremony, in a common place of burial. The
whole nation was sometimes assembled at this solemnity; and hundreds of
corpses, brought from their temporary resting-places, were inhumed in
one capacious pit. From this hour the immortality of their souls began.
They took wing, as some affirmed, in the shape of pigeons; while the
greater number declared that they journeyed on foot, and in their own
likeness, to the land of shades, bearing with them the ghosts of the
wampum-belts, beaver-skins, bows, arrows, pipes, kettles, beads, and
rings buried with them in the common grave. [84] But as the spirits of
the old and of children are too feeble for the march, they are forced to
stay behind, lingering near their earthly villages, where the living
often hear the shutting of their invisible cabin-doors, and the weak
voices of the disembodied children driving birds from their corn-fields.
[85] An endless variety of incoherent fancies is connected with the
Indian idea of a future life. They commonly owe their origin to dreams,
often to the dreams of those in extreme sickness, who, on awaking,
supposed that they had visited the other world, and related to the
wondering bystanders what they had seen.
[84] The practice of burying treasures with the dead is not peculiar to
the North American aborigines. Thus, the London Times of Oct. 28, 1865,
describing the funeral rites of Lord Palmerston, says: "And as the
words, 'Dust to dust, ashes to ashes,' were pronounced, the chief
mourner, as a last precious offering to the dead, threw into the grave
several diamond and gold rings."
[85] Brébeuf, Relation des Hurons, 1636, 99 (Cramoisy).
The Indian land of souls is not always a region of shadows and gloom.
The Hurons sometimes represented the souls of their dead--those of their
dogs included--as dancing joyously in the presence of Ataentsic and
Jouskeha. According to some Algonquin traditions, heaven was a scene of
endless festivity, the ghosts dancing to the sound of the rattle and the
drum, and greeting with hospitable welcome the occasional visitor from
the living world: for the spirit-land was not far off, and roving
hunters sometimes passed its confines unawares.
Most of the traditions agree, however, that the spirits, on their
journey heavenward, were beset with difficulties and perils. There was a
swift river which must be crossed on a log that shook beneath their
feet, while a ferocious dog opposed their passage, and drove many into
the abyss. This river was full of sturgeon and other fish, which the
ghosts speared for their subsistence. Beyond was a narrow path between
moving rocks, which each instant crashed together, grinding to atoms the
less nimble of the pilgrims who essayed to pass. The Hurons believed
that a personage named Oscotarach, or the Head-Piercer, dwelt in a bark
house beside the path, and that it was his office to remove the brains
from the heads of all who went by, as a necessary preparation for
immortality. This singular idea is found also in some Algonquin
traditions, according to which, however, the brain is afterwards
restored to its owner. [86]
[86] On Indian ideas of another life, compare Sagard, the Jesuit
Relations, Perrot, Charlevoix, and Lafitau, with Tanner, James,
Schoolcraft, and the Appendix to Morse's Indian Report.
Le Clerc recounts a singular story, current in his time among the
Algonquins of Gaspé and Northern New Brunswick. The favorite son of an
old Indian died; whereupon the father, with a party of friends, set out
for the land of souls to recover him. It was only necessary to wade
through a shallow lake, several days' journey in extent. This they did,
sleeping at night on platforms of poles which supported them above the
water. At length they arrived, and were met by Papkootparout, the Indian
Pluto, who rushed on them in a rage, with his war-club upraised; but,
presently relenting, changed his mind, and challenged them to a game of
ball. They proved the victors, and won the stakes, consisting of corn,
tobacco, and certain fruits, which thus became known to mankind. The
bereaved father now begged hard for his son's soul, and Papkootparout at
last gave it to him, in the form and size of a nut, which, by pressing
it hard between his hands, he forced into a small leather bag. The
delighted parent carried it back to earth, with instructions to insert
it in the body of his son, who would thereupon return to life. When the
adventurers reached home, and reported the happy issue of their journey,
there was a dance of rejoicing; and the father, wishing to take part in
it, gave his son's soul to the keeping of a squaw who stood by. Being
curious to see it, she opened the bag; on which it escaped at once, and
took flight for the realms of Papkootparout, preferring them to the
abodes of the living.--Le Clerc, Nouvelle Relation de la Gaspésie,
310-328.
Dreams were to the Indian a universal oracle. They revealed to him his
guardian spirit, taught him the cure of his diseases, warned him of the
devices of sorcerers, guided him to the lurking-places of his enemy or
the haunts of game, and unfolded the secrets of good and evil destiny.
The dream was a mysterious and inexorable power, whose least behests
must be obeyed to the letter,--a source, in every Indian town, of
endless mischief and abomination. There were professed dreamers, and
professed interpreters of dreams. One of the most noted festivals among
the Hurons and Iroquois was the Dream Feast, a scene of frenzy, where
the actors counterfeited madness, and the town was like a bedlam turned
loose. Each pretended to have dreamed of something necessary to his
welfare, and rushed from house to house, demanding of all he met to
guess his secret requirement and satisfy it.
Believing that the whole material world was instinct with powers to
influence and control his fate, that good and evil spirits, and
existences nameless and indefinable, filled all Nature, that a pervading
sorcery was above, below, and around him, and that issues of life and
death might be controlled by instruments the most unnoticeable and
seemingly the most feeble, the Indian lived in perpetual fear. The
turning of a leaf, the crawling of an insect, the cry of a bird, the
creaking of a bough, might be to him the mystic signal of weal or woe.
An Indian community swarmed with sorcerers, medicine-men, and diviners,
whose functions were often united in the same person. The sorcerer, by
charms, magic songs, magic feasts, and the beating of his drum, had
power over the spirits and those occult influences inherent in animals
and inanimate things. He could call to him the souls of his enemies.
They appeared before him in the form of stones. He chopped and bruised
them with his hatchet; blood and flesh issued forth; and the intended
victim, however distant, languished and died. Like the sorcerer of the
Middle Ages, he made images of those he wished to destroy, and,
muttering incantations, punctured them with an awl, whereupon the
persons represented sickened and pined away.
The Indian doctor relied far more on magic than on natural remedies.
Dreams, beating of the drum, songs, magic feasts and dances, and howling
to frighten the female demon from his patient, were his ordinary methods
of cure.
The prophet, or diviner, had various means of reading the secrets of
futurity, such as the flight of birds, and the movements of water and
fire. There was a peculiar practice of divination very general in the
Algonquin family of tribes, among some of whom it still subsists. A
small, conical lodge was made by planting poles in a circle, lashing the
tops together at the height of about seven feet from the ground, and
closely covering them with hides. The prophet crawled in, and closed the
aperture after him. He then beat his drum and sang his magic songs to
summon the spirits, whose weak, shrill voices were soon heard, mingled
with his lugubrious chanting, while at intervals the juggler paused to
interpret their communications to the attentive crowd seated on the
ground without. During the whole scene, the lodge swayed to and fro with
a violence which has astonished many a civilized beholder, and which
some of the Jesuits explain by the ready solution of a genuine diabolic
intervention. [87]
[87] This practice was first observed by Champlain. (See "Pioneers of
France in the New World." ) From his time to the present, numerous
writers have remarked upon it. Le Jeune, in the Relation of 1637, treats
it at some length. The lodge was sometimes of a cylindrical, instead of
a conical form.
The sorcerers, medicine-men, and diviners did not usually exercise the
function of priests. Each man sacrificed for himself to the powers he
wished to propitiate, whether his guardian spirit, the spirits of
animals, or the other beings of his belief. The most common offering was
tobacco, thrown into the fire or water; scraps of meat were sometimes
burned to the manitous; and, on a few rare occasions of public
solemnity, a white dog, the mystic animal of many tribes, was tied to
the end of an upright pole, as a sacrifice to some superior spirit, or
to the sun, with which the superior spirits were constantly confounded
by the primitive Indian. In recent times, when Judaism and Christianity
have modified his religious ideas, it has been, and still is, the
practice to sacrifice dogs to the Great Spirit. On these public
occasions, the sacrificial function is discharged by chiefs, or by
warriors appointed for the purpose. [88]
[88] Many of the Indian feasts were feasts of sacrifice,--sometimes to
the guardian spirit of the host, sometimes to an animal of which he has
dreamed, sometimes to a local or other spirit. The food was first
offered in a loud voice to the being to be propitiated, after which the
guests proceeded to devour it for him. This unique method of sacrifice
was practised at war-feasts and similar solemnities. For an excellent
account of Indian religious feasts, see Perrot, Chap. V.
One of the most remarkable of Indian sacrifices was that practised by
the Hurons in the case of a person drowned or frozen to death. The flesh
of the deceased was cut off, and thrown into a fire made for the
purpose, as an offering of propitiation to the spirits of the air or
water. What remained of the body was then buried near the
fire.--Brébeuf, Relation des Hurons, 1636, 108.
The tribes of Virginia, as described by Beverly and others, not only had
priests who offered sacrifice, but idols and houses of worship.
Among the Hurons and Iroquois, and indeed all the stationary tribes,
there was an incredible number of mystic ceremonies, extravagant,
puerile, and often disgusting, designed for the cure of the sick or for
the general weal of the community. Most of their observances seem
originally to have been dictated by dreams, and transmitted as a sacred
heritage from generation to generation. They consisted in an endless
variety of dances, masqueradings, and nondescript orgies; and a
scrupulous adherence to all the traditional forms was held to be of the
last moment, as the slightest failure in this respect might entail
serious calamities. If children were seen in their play imitating any of
these mysteries, they were grimly rebuked and punished. In many tribes
secret magical societies existed, and still exist, into which members
are initiated with peculiar ceremonies. These associations are greatly
respected and feared. They have charms for love, war, and private
revenge, and exert a great, and often a very mischievous influence. The
societies of the Metai and the Wabeno, among the Northern Algonquins,
are conspicuous examples; while other societies of similar character
have, for a century, been known to exist among the Dahcotah. [89]
[89] The Friendly Society of the Spirit, of which the initiatory
ceremonies were seen and described by Carver (Travels, 271), preserves
to this day its existence and its rites.
A notice of the superstitious ideas of the Indians would be imperfect
without a reference to the traditionary tales through which these ideas
are handed down from father to son. Some of these tales can be traced
back to the period of the earliest intercourse with Europeans. One at
least of those recorded by the first missionaries, on the Lower St.
Lawrence, is still current among the tribes of the Upper Lakes. Many of
them are curious combinations of beliefs seriously entertained with
strokes intended for humor and drollery, which never fail to awaken
peals of laughter in the lodge-circle. Giants, dwarfs, cannibals,
spirits, beasts, birds, and anomalous monsters, transformations, tricks,
and sorcery, form the staple of the story. Some of the Iroquois tales
embody conceptions which, however preposterous, are of a bold and
striking character; but those of the Algonquins are, to an incredible
degree, flimsy, silly, and meaningless; nor are those of the Dahcotah
tribes much better. In respect to this wigwam lore, there is a curious
superstition of very wide prevalence. The tales must not be told in
summer; since at that season, when all Nature is full of life, the
spirits are awake, and, hearing what is said of them, may take offence;
whereas in winter they are fast sealed up in snow and ice, and no longer
capable of listening. [90]
[90] The prevalence of this fancy among the Algonquins in the remote
parts of Canada is well established. The writer found it also among the
extreme western bands of the Dahcotah. He tried, in the month of July,
to persuade an old chief, a noted story-teller, to tell him some of the
tales; but, though abundantly loquacious in respect to his own
adventures, and even his dreams, the Indian obstinately refused, saying
that winter was the time for the tales, and that it was bad to tell them
in summer.
Mr. Schoolcraft has published a collection of Algonquin tales, under the
title of Algic Researches. Most of them were translated by his wife, an
educated Ojibwa half-breed. This book is perhaps the best of Mr.
Schoolcraft's works, though its value is much impaired by the want of a
literal rendering, and the introduction of decorations which savor more
of a popular monthly magazine than of an Indian wigwam. Mrs. Eastman's
interesting Legends of the Sioux (Dahcotah) is not free from the same
defect. Other tales are scattered throughout the works of Mr.
Schoolcraft and various modern writers. Some are to be found in the
works of Lafitau and the other Jesuits. But few of the Iroquois legends
have been printed, though a considerable number have been written down.
The singular History of the Five Nations, by the old Tuscarora Indian,
Cusick, gives the substance of some of them. Others will be found in
Clark's History of Onondaga.
It is obvious that the Indian mind has never seriously occupied itself
with any of the higher themes of thought. The beings of its belief are
not impersonations of the forces of Nature, the courses of human
destiny, or the movements of human intellect, will, and passion. In the
midst of Nature, the Indian knew nothing of her laws. His perpetual
reference of her phenomena to occult agencies forestalled inquiry and
precluded inductive reasoning. If the wind blew with violence, it was
because the water-lizard, which makes the wind, had crawled out of his
pool; if the lightning was sharp and frequent, it was because the young
of the thunder-bird were restless in their nest; if a blight fell upon
the corn, it was because the Corn Spirit was angry; and if the beavers
were shy and difficult to catch, it was because they had taken offence
at seeing the bones of one of their race thrown to a dog. Well, and even
highly developed, in a few instances,--I allude especially to the
Iroquois,--with respect to certain points of material concernment, the
mind of the Indian in other respects was and is almost hopelessly
stagnant. The very traits that raise him above the servile races are
hostile to the kind and degree of civilization which those races so
easily attain. His intractable spirit of independence, and the pride
which forbids him to be an imitator, reinforce but too strongly that
savage lethargy of mind from which it is so hard to rouse him. No race,
perhaps, ever offered greater difficulties to those laboring for its
improvement.
To sum up the results of this examination, the primitive Indian was as
savage in his religion as in his life. He was divided between
fetich-worship and that next degree of religious development which
consists in the worship of deities embodied in the human form. His
conception of their attributes was such as might have been expected. His
gods were no whit better than himself. Even when he borrows from
Christianity the idea of a Supreme and Universal Spirit, his tendency is
to reduce Him to a local habitation and a bodily shape; and this
tendency disappears only in tribes that have been long in contact with
civilized white men. The primitive Indian, yielding his untutored homage
to One All-pervading and Omnipotent Spirit, is a dream of poets,
rhetoricians, and sentimentalists.
CHAPTER I.
1634.
NOTRE-DAME DES ANGES.
Quebec in 1634 • Father Le Jeune • The Mission-House • Its Domestic
Economy • The Jesuits and their Designs
Opposite Quebec lies the tongue of land called Point Levi. One who, in
the summer of the year 1634, stood on its margin and looked northward,
across the St. Lawrence, would have seen, at the distance of a mile or
more, a range of lofty cliffs, rising on the left into the bold heights
of Cape Diamond, and on the right sinking abruptly to the bed of the
tributary river St. Charles. Beneath these cliffs, at the brink of the
St. Lawrence, he would have descried a cluster of warehouses, sheds, and
wooden tenements. Immediately above, along the verge of the precipice,
he could have traced the outlines of a fortified work, with a flagstaff,
and a few small cannon to command the river; while, at the only point
where Nature had made the heights accessible, a zigzag path connected
the warehouses and the fort.
Now, embarked in the canoe of some Montagnais Indian, let him cross the
St. Lawrence, land at the pier, and, passing the cluster of buildings,
climb the pathway up the cliff. Pausing for rest and breath, he might
see, ascending and descending, the tenants of this outpost of the
wilderness: a soldier of the fort, or an officer in slouched hat and
plume; a factor of the fur company, owner and sovereign lord of all
Canada; a party of Indians; a trader from the upper country, one of the
precursors of that hardy race of coureurs de bois, destined to form a
conspicuous and striking feature of the Canadian population: next,
perhaps, would appear a figure widely different. The close, black
cassock, the rosary hanging from the waist, and the wide, black hat,
looped up at the sides, proclaimed the Jesuit,--Father Le Jeune,
Superior of the Residence of Quebec.
And now, that we may better know the aspect and condition of the infant
colony and incipient mission, we will follow the priest on his way.
Mounting the steep path, he reached the top of the cliff, some two
hundred feet above the river and the warehouses. On the left lay the
fort built by Champlain, covering a part of the ground now forming
Durham Terrace and the Place d'Armes. Its ramparts were of logs and
earth, and within was a turreted building of stone, used as a barrack,
as officers' quarters, and for other purposes. [1] Near the fort stood a
small chapel, newly built. The surrounding country was cleared and
partially cultivated; yet only one dwelling-house worthy the name
appeared. It was a substantial cottage, where lived Madame Hébert, widow
of the first settler of Canada, with her daughter, her son-in-law
Couillard, and their children, good Catholics all, who, two years
before, when Quebec was evacuated by the English, [2] wept for joy at
beholding Le Jeune, and his brother Jesuit, De Nouë, crossing their
threshold to offer beneath their roof the long-forbidden sacrifice of
the Mass. There were inclosures with cattle near at hand; and the house,
with its surroundings, betokened industry and thrift.
[1] Compare the various notices in Champlain (1632) with that of Du
Creux, Historia Canadensis, 204.
[2] See "Pioneers of France in the New World." Hébert's cottage seems to
have stood between Ste.-Famille and Couillard Streets, as appears by a
contract of 1634, cited by M. Ferland.
Thence Le Jeune walked on, across the site of the modern market-place,
and still onward, near the line of the cliffs which sank abruptly on his
right. Beneath lay the mouth of the St. Charles; and, beyond, the
wilderness shore of Beauport swept in a wide curve eastward, to where,
far in the distance, the Gulf of Montmorenci yawned on the great river.
[3] The priest soon passed the clearings, and entered the woods which
covered the site of the present suburb of St. John. Thence he descended
to a lower plateau, where now lies the suburb of St. Roch, and, still
advancing, reached a pleasant spot at the extremity of the
Pointe-aux-Lièvres, a tract of meadow land nearly inclosed by a sudden
bend of the St. Charles. Here lay a canoe or skiff; and, paddling across
the narrow stream, Le Jeune saw on the meadow, two hundred yards from
the bank, a square inclosure formed of palisades, like a modern picket
fort of the Indian frontier. [4] Within this inclosure were two
buildings, one of which had been half burned by the English, and was not
yet repaired. It served as storehouse, stable, workshop, and bakery.
Opposite stood the principal building, a structure of planks, plastered
with mud, and thatched with long grass from the meadows. It consisted of
one story, a garret, and a cellar, and contained four principal rooms,
of which one served as chapel, another as refectory, another as kitchen,
and the fourth as a lodging for workmen. The furniture of all was plain
in the extreme. Until the preceding year, the chapel had had no other
ornament than a sheet on which were glued two coarse engravings; but the
priests had now decorated their altar with an image of a dove
representing the Holy Ghost, an image of Loyola, another of Xavier, and
three images of the Virgin. Four cells opened from the refectory, the
largest of which was eight feet square. In these lodged six priests,
while two lay brothers found shelter in the garret. The house had been
hastily built, eight years before, and now leaked in all parts. Such was
the Residence of Notre-Dame des Anges. Here was nourished the germ of a
vast enterprise, and this was the cradle of the great mission of New
France. [5]
[3] The settlement of Beauport was begun this year, or the year
following, by the Sieur Giffard, to whom a large tract had been granted
here--Langevin, Notes sur les Archives de N. D. de Beauport, 5.
[4] This must have been very near the point where the streamlet called
the River Lairet enters the St. Charles. The place has a triple historic
interest. The wintering-place of Cartier in 1535-6 (see "Pioneers of
France") seems to have been here. Here, too, in 1759, Montcalm's bridge
of boats crossed the St. Charles; and in a large intrenchment, which
probably included the site of the Jesuit mission-house, the remnants of
his shattered army rallied, after their defeat on the Plains of
Abraham.--See the very curious Narrative of the Chevalier Johnstone,
published by the Historical Society of Quebec.
[5] The above particulars are gathered from the Relations of 1626
(Lalemant), and 1632, 1633, 1634, 1635 (Le Jeune), but chiefly from a
long letter of the Father Superior to the Provincial of the Jesuits at
Paris, containing a curiously minute report of the state of the mission.
It was sent from Quebec by the returning ships in the summer of 1634,
and will be found in Carayon, Première Mission des Jésuites au Canada,
122. The original is in the archives of the Order at Rome.
Of the six Jesuits gathered in the refectory for the evening meal, one
was conspicuous among the rest,--a tall, strong man, with features that
seemed carved by Nature for a soldier, but which the mental habits of
years had stamped with the visible impress of the priesthood. This was
Jean de Brébeuf, descendant of a noble family of Normandy, and one of
the ablest and most devoted zealots whose names stand on the missionary
rolls of his Order. His companions were Masse, Daniel, Davost, De Nouë,
and the Father Superior, Le Jeune. Masse was the same priest who had
been the companion of Father Biard in the abortive mission of Acadia.
[6] By reason of his useful qualities, Le Jeune nicknamed him "le Père
Utile." At present, his special function was the care of the pigs and
cows, which he kept in the inclosure around the buildings, lest they
should ravage the neighboring fields of rye, barley, wheat, and maize.
[7] De Nouë had charge of the eight or ten workmen employed by the
mission, who gave him at times no little trouble by their repinings and
complaints. [8] They were forced to hear mass every morning and prayers
every evening, besides an exhortation on Sunday. Some of them were for
returning home, while two or three, of a different complexion, wished to
be Jesuits themselves. The Fathers, in their intervals of leisure,
worked with their men, spade in hand. For the rest, they were busied in
preaching, singing vespers, saying mass and hearing confessions at the
fort of Quebec, catechizing a few Indians, and striving to master the
enormous difficulties of the Huron and Algonquin languages.
[6] See "Pioneers of France in the New World."
[7] "Le P. Masse, que je nomme quelquefois en riant le Père Utile, est
bien cognu de V. R. Il a soin des choses domestiques et du bestail que
nous avons, en quoy il a très-bien reussy."--Lettre du P. Paul le Jeune
au R. P. Provincial, in Carayon, 122.--Le Jeune does not fail to send an
inventory of the "bestail" to his Superior, namely: "Deux grosses truies
qui nourissent chacune quatre petits cochons, deux vaches, deux petites
genisses, et un petit taureau."
[8] The methodical Le Jeune sets down the causes of their discontent
under six different heads, each duly numbered. Thus:--
"1º. C'est le naturel des artisans de se plaindre et de gronder."
"2º. La diversité des gages les fait murmurer," etc.
Well might Father Le Jeune write to his Superior, "The harvest is
plentiful, and the laborers few." These men aimed at the conversion of a
continent. From their hovel on the St. Charles, they surveyed a field of
labor whose vastness might tire the wings of thought itself; a scene
repellent and appalling, darkened with omens of peril and woe. They were
an advance-guard of the great army of Loyola, strong in a discipline
that controlled not alone the body and the will, but the intellect, the
heart, the soul, and the inmost consciousness. The lives of these early
Canadian Jesuits attest the earnestness of their faith and the intensity
of their zeal; but it was a zeal bridled, curbed, and ruled by a guiding
hand. Their marvellous training in equal measure kindled enthusiasm and
controlled it, roused into action a mighty power, and made it as
subservient as those great material forces which modern science has
learned to awaken and to govern. They were drilled to a factitious
humility, prone to find utterance in expressions of self-depreciation
and self-scorn, which one may often judge unwisely, when he condemns
them as insincere. They were devoted believers, not only in the
fundamental dogmas of Rome, but in those lesser matters of faith which
heresy despises as idle and puerile superstitions. One great aim
engrossed their lives. "For the greater glory of God"--ad majorem Dei
gloriam--they would act or wait, dare, suffer, or die, yet all in
unquestioning subjection to the authority of the Superiors, in whom they
recognized the agents of Divine authority itself.