without hesitation, to the secret agency of malignant powers, or
spirits. The physician, therefore, must then invest himself with his
mystic character, and direct all his efforts against these invisible
enemies. His proceedings are various, and prompted, seemingly, by a
mixture of delusion and imposture. On his first arrival, he begins to
sing and dance round the patient, invoking his god with loud cries.
Then, pretending to search out the seat of the enchantment, he feels his
body all over, till cries seem to indicate the bewitched spot. He then
rushes upon it like a madman, or an enraged dog, tears it with his
teeth, and often pretends to show a small bone, or other object, which
he has extracted, and in which the evil power had been lodged. His
disciples, next day, renew the process, and the whole family join in the
chorus; so that, setting aside the disease, a frame of iron would appear
necessary to withstand the remedies. Another contrivance is, to surround
the cabin with men of straw, and wooden masks of the most frightful
shapes, in hopes of scaring away the mysterious tormentor. Sometimes a
painted image is formed, which the doctor pierces with an arrow,
pretending that he has thereby vanquished the evil spirit. On other
occasions, he professes to discover a mysterious desire, which exists in
the patient unknown to himself, for some particular object; and this,
however distant or difficult of attainment, the poor family strain all
their efforts to procure. It is alleged, that when the malady appears
hopeless, he fixes upon something completely beyond reach, the want of
which is then represented as the cause of death. The deep faith reposed
in these preposterous remedies caused to the missionaries much
difficulty, even with their most intelligent converts. When a mother
found one of her children dangerously ill, her pagan neighbours came
round, and assured her that if she would allow it to be blown upon, and
danced, and howled round in the genuine Indian manner, there would be no
doubt of a speedy recovery. They exhorted her to take it into the woods,
where the black-robes, as they called the Christian priests, would not
be able to find her. The latter could not fully undeceive their
disciples, because in that less enlightened age, they themselves were
impressed with the notion that the magicians communicated with, and
derived aid from the prince of darkness; all they could do, therefore,
was to exhort them resolutely to sacrifice any benefit that might be
derived from so unholy a source. This, however, was a hard duty; and
they record with pride the example of a Huron wife, who, though much
attached to her husband, and apparently convinced that he could be cured
by this impious process, chose rather to lose him. In other respects,
the missionaries suffered from the superstitious creed of the natives,
who, even when unconverted, believed them to possess supernatural
powers, which it was suspected they sometimes employed to introduce the
epidemic diseases with which the country was from time to time
afflicted. They exclaimed, it was not the demons that made so many
die—it was prayer, images, and baptism; and when a severe pestilential
disorder followed the murder of a Frenchman, who fell by their hands,
they imagined that the priests were thus avenging the death of their
countryman.
We have still to describe the most prominent object of the Indian’s
passions and pursuits—his warfare. It is that which presents him under
the darkest aspect, effacing almost all his fine qualities, and
assimilating his nature to that of fiends. While the most cordial union
reigns between the members of each tribe, they have neighbours whom they
regard with the deepest enmity, and for whose extermination they
continually thirst. The intense excitement which war affords, and the
glory which rewards its achievements, probably give the primary impulse;
but after hostilities have begun, the feeling which keeps them alive is
revenge. Every Indian who falls into the power of an enemy, and suffers
the dreadful fate to which the vanquished are doomed, must have his
ghost appeased by a victim from that hostile race. Thus every contest
generates another, and a more deeply embittered one. Nor are they
strangers to those more refined motives which urge civilized nations to
take arms—the extension of their boundaries, an object pursued with
ardent zeal, and the power of their tribe, which last they seek to
promote by incorporating in its ranks the defeated bands of their
antagonists. Personal dislike and the love of distinction often impel
individuals to make inroads into a hostile territory, even contrary to
the general wish; but when war is to be waged by the whole nation, more
enlarged views, connected with its interest and aggrandizement, guide
the decision. To most savages, however, long-continued peace becomes
irksome and unpopular; and the prudence of the aged can with difficulty
restrain the fire of the young, who thirst for adventure.
As soon as the determination has been formed, the war-chief, to whom the
voice of the nation assigns the supremacy, enters on a course of solemn
preparation. This consists not, however, in providing arms or supplies
for the campaign; for these are comprised in the personal resources of
each individual: he devotes himself to observances which are meant to
propitiate or learn the will of the Great Spirit, who, when considered
as presiding over the destinies of war, is named Areskoui. He begins by
marching three times round his winter-house, spreading the great bloody
flag, variegated with deep tints of black. As soon as the young warriors
see this signal of death, they crowd around, listening to the oration by
which he summons them to the field. “Comrades!” he exclaims, “the blood
of our countrymen is yet unavenged; their bones lie uncovered; their
spirits cry to us from the tomb. Youths, arise! anoint your hair, paint
your faces, let your songs resound through the forest, and console the
dead with the assurance that they shall be avenged. Youths! follow me,
while I march through the war-path to surprise our enemies, to eat their
flesh, drink their blood, and tear them limb from limb! We shall return
triumphant; or, should we fall, this belt will record our valour!” The
wampum, that grand symbol of Indian policy, is then thrown on the
ground. Many desire to lift it, but this privilege is reserved for some
chief of high reputation, judged worthy to fill the post of second in
command. The leader now commences his series of mystic observances. He
is painted all over black, and enters on a strict fast, never eating, or
even sitting down, till after sunset. From time to time he drinks a
decoction of consecrated herbs, with a view of giving vivacity to his
dreams, which are carefully noted, and submitted to the deliberation of
the sages and old men. When a warlike spirit is in the ascendant, it is
understood that either their tenor or their interpretation betokens
success. The powerful influence of the vapour-bath is also employed.
After these solemn preliminaries, a copious application of warm water
removes the deep black coating, and he is painted afresh in bright and
varied colours, among which red predominates. A huge fire is kindled,
whereon is placed the great war cauldron, into which every one present
throws something; and if any allies, invited by a belt of wampum and
bloody hatchet to devour the flesh and drink the blood of the enemy,
have accepted the summons, they send some ingredients to be also cast
in. The chief then announces the enterprise by singing a war-song, never
sounded but on such occasions; and his example is followed by all the
warriors, who join in the military dance, recounting their former
exploits, and dilating on those they hope to achieve. They now proceed
to arm, suspending the bow and quiver, or more frequently the musket,
from the shoulder, the hatchet or tomahawk from the hand, while the
scalping-knife is stuck in the girdle. A portion of parched corn, or
sagamity, prepared for the purpose, is received from the women, who
frequently bear it to a considerable distance. But the most important
operation is the collection of the manitous, or guardian spirits, to be
placed in a common box, which, like the Hebrew ark, is looked up to as a
protecting power.
The females, during these preparations, have been busily negotiating for
a supply of captives, on whom to wreak their vengeance, and appease the
shades of their fallen kindred; sometimes, also, with the more merciful
view of supplying their places. Tenderer feelings arise as the moment
approaches when the warriors must depart—perhaps to return no more!
and, it may be, to endure the same dreadful fate which they are
imprecating on others. The leader having made a short harangue,
commences the march, singing his war-song, while the others follow, at
intervals sounding the war-whoop. The women accompany them some
distance, and when they must separate, they exchange endearing names,
and express the most ardent wishes for a triumphant return; while each
party receives and gives some object which has been long worn by the
other, as a memorial of this tender parting.
As long as the warriors continue in their own country, they straggle in
small parties for the convenience of hunting, still holding
communication by shouts, in which they imitate the cries of certain
birds and beasts. When arrived at the frontier, they all unite and hold
another great festival, followed by solemn dreaming, the tenor of which
is carefully examined. If found inauspicious, room is still left to
return; and those whose courage shrinks, are, on such occasions,
supplied with an apology for relinquishing the undertaking; but such an
issue is rare. On entering the hostile territory, deep silence is
enjoined; the chase is discontinued; they crawl on all fours; step on
the trunks of fallen trees, or through swamps. Sometimes they fasten on
their feet the hoof of the buffalo, or the paw of the bear, and run in
an irregular track like those animals. Equally earnest and skilful are
they in tracing through the woods the haunts of the enemy. The slightest
indications, such as would wholly escape the notice of a European,
enables them to thread their course through the vast depths of the
western forests. They boast of being able to discern the impression of
steps even on the yielding grass, and of knowing, by inspection, the
nation or tribe by whom it has been made. Various and ingenious
artifices are employed to entrap their foe. From the recesses of the
wood they send forth the cries of the animals which are most eagerly
sought by the rival hunters. Their grand object, however, is to surprise
a village, and if possible the principal one belonging to the hated
tribe. Thither all their steps tend, as they steal like silent ghosts
through the lonely forest. On approaching it, they cast hasty glances
from the tops of trees or of hillocks, and then retreat into the
thickest covert; but in total disregard of the most disastrous
experience, the obvious precaution of placing nightly sentinels has
never been adopted. Even when aware of danger, they content themselves
with exploring the vicinity two or three miles around, when, if nothing
is discovered, they go to sleep without dread.
This supineness is much fostered by a delusive confidence in the
manitous enclosed in the holy ark. If during the day the assailants have
reached unperceived a covert spot in the neighbourhood of the devoted
village, they expect the satisfaction of finding its inhabitants buried
in the deepest slumber in the course of the ensuing night. They keep
close watch till immediately before day-break, when silence and security
are usually the most complete; then, flat on their faces, and carefully
suppressing the slightest sound, they creep slowly towards the scene of
action. Having reached it undiscovered, the chief by a shrill cry gives
the signal, which is instantly followed by a discharge of arrows or
musketry; after which they rush in with the war-club and the tomahawk.
The air echoes with the sound of the death-whoop, and of arms. The
savage aspect of the combatants; their faces painted black and red, and
some streaming with blood, and their frightful yells, make them appear
like demons risen from the world beneath. The victims, too late aroused,
spring from their fatal slumber, and foreseeing the dreadful fate which
awaits them if taken prisoners, make almost superhuman struggles for
deliverance. The contest rages with all the fury of revenge and despair,
but it is usually short. The unhappy wretches, surprised and bewildered,
can seldom rally or resist; they seek safety by fleeing into the depths
of forests or marshes, whither they are hotly pursued. The main study of
the victorious party is to take the fugitives alive, in order to subject
them to the horrible punishments which will be presently described.
Should this be impracticable, the tomahawk or the hatchet dispatches
them on the spot; and the scalp is then carried off as a trophy. Placing
a foot on the neck of his fallen enemy, and twisting a hand in the hair,
the warrior draws out a long sharp-pointed knife, specially formed for
this operation; then cutting a circle round the crown of the head, by a
few skilful scoops he detaches the hair and skin, lodges the whole in
his bag, and returns in triumph.
At the close of the expedition, the warriors repair to their village,
and, even in approaching, announce its result by various signals well
understood among their families. According to the most approved custom,
the evil tidings are thus communicated. A herald advances before the
troop, and for every kinsman who has fallen sounds the death-whoop,—a
shrill lengthened note ending in an elevated key. An interval is then
allowed, during which the burst of grief excited by these tidings may be
in some degree exhausted. Then rises the loud and inspiring sound of the
war-whoop, which by its successive repetitions expresses the number of
captives brought home as the fruits of the victory. The barbarous joy
thus kindled banishes for the moment all trace of lamentation. The women
and children form two rows, through which the prisoner is led, having
his face painted, and crowned with flowers as for a festival. Then
begins the darkest of all the scenes by which savage life is deformed. A
series of studied and elaborate torture commences, in which ingenuity is
tasked to the utmost to inflict the intensest agony that can be endured
without actually extinguishing life. The first caress, as the French
call it, is to tear the nails from the fingers, the flesh is then
pierced to the bone, and fire in various forms applied to the
extremities. Blows are also given to the last degree that nature can
sustain; and sometimes an amusement is found in tossing, for a long
time, the victim like a ball from one to the other. Other contrivances,
peculiar to infuriated savages, are sometimes resorted to. One
missionary, for example, being made to lie on his back, had his stomach
covered with sagamity, on which hungry dogs were set to feed, which tore
his flesh with their teeth. The unhappy wretch is occasionally paraded
from village to village, kept for weeks in this state of suffering, fed
on the coarsest refuse, and allowed only a neglected corner of the cabin
to sleep in. At length a grand council is held to decide his fate, or in
other words, to determine whether all the furies of vengeance shall be
let loose upon him, and his life be taken away amid the most frightful
tortures, or whether he shall be saluted as one of themselves, and
treated as a brother. The decision is influenced by various
considerations. If he be a youth, or new to the field, a lenient course
may probably be adopted; but a veteran warrior, who has been the terror
of the nation, and on whose skin is painted a record of triumphs, has to
dread a sterner sentence. The women have much influence, according as
they either demand revenge for the loss of a husband or brother, or
solicit that the captive may supply the vacancy. The Iroquois, though
the fiercest of these barbarians, being the deepest politicians, were
always anxious to augment their numbers; hence, though they prolonged
and heightened the preliminary torture, they usually ended it by
adoption. This was carried so far that they are described as having at
length become less a single nation than an aggregate of all the
surrounding tribes. The stranger being received into one of the families
as a husband, brother, or son, is treated with the utmost tenderness;
and she, who perhaps immediately before exhausted all her ingenuity in
tormenting him, now nurses the wounds she has made, and loads him with
caresses. He becomes completely one of the clan, and goes with them to
war, even against his former countrymen; and so far is the point of
honour carried, that to return into their ranks would be branded as an
act of baseness. There are, however, many occasions in which the more
inhuman resolution is taken, and a fearful display is then made of the
darkest passions that can agitate the human breast. The captive is
informed of his fate by being invested with moccasins of black
bear-skin, and having placed over his head a flaming torch, the sure
indication of his doom. Before the fatal scene begins, however, he is
allowed a short interval to sing his death song, which he performs in a
triumphant tone. He proclaims the joy with which he goes to the land of
souls, where he will meet his brave ancestors who taught him the great
lesson to fight and to suffer. He recounts his warlike exploits,
particularly those performed against the kindred of his tormentors; and
if there was any one of them whom he vanquished and caused to expire
amid tortures, he loudly proclaims it. He declares his inextinguishable
desire to eat their flesh, and to drink their blood to the last drop.
This scene is considered, even when compared with the field of battle,
as the great theatre of Indian glory. When two prisoners were about to
be tortured by the French at Quebec, a charitable hand privately
supplied a weapon with which one of them killed himself; but the other
derided his effeminacy, and proudly prepared himself for his fiery
trial. In this direful work the women take the lead, and seem
transformed into raging furies. She, to glut whose vengeance the doom
has been specially pronounced, invokes the spirit of her husband, her
brother, or her son, who has fallen in battle or died amid torture,
bidding him come now and be appeased, a feast is prepared for him, a
warrior is to be thrown into the great cauldron; his blood will be
poured out; his flesh torn from the bones: let the injured spirit then
cease to complain. A game begins between the torturers and the
tortured—one to inflict the most intense suffering, the other to bear
it with proud insensibility. That there may be some appearance of open
contest, he is not chained, but merely tied to a post, and a certain
range allowed, within which, while the brand, the hatchet, and every
engine of torture are applied, he can do something to repel his
assailants, and even attack in his turn. He struggles fiercely in the
unequal strife, and while his frame is consuming in agony, still defies
his tormentors, and outbraves death itself. Some even deride the feeble
efforts of their executioners, boasting how much more effectively they
themselves had applied torture to individuals of their tribe. Yet there
are instances where the murderers at last triumph; the sufferer
exclaims, “Fire is strong, and too powerful;” he even utters loud
shrieks, which are responded to by exulting shouts of savage laughter.
Some few have been known by almost incredible efforts to break loose,
and by rapid flight effect their escape. The general result, however, is
death, after protracted suffering; when the scalp, if still entire, is
taken off, and deposited among the military trophies.
It has been made a question whether the Indian can be justly charged
with cannibalism. It is certain that all the terms by which they
designate their inhuman mode of putting a prisoner to death bear
reference to this horrid practice. The expressions are,—to throw him
into the cauldron—to devour him—to eat soup made of his flesh. It has
hence been plausibly inferred that this enormity really prevailed in
early times, but was changed, we can scarcely say mitigated, into the
present system of torture. Yet, as every action is described by them in
terms highly figurative, those now quoted may have been used as
expressing most fully the complete gratification of their revenge. Of
this charge they cannot now be either condemned or wholly acquitted. In
the excited fury of their passions, portions of the flesh are often
seized, roasted, and eaten, and draughts taken of the blood. To eat an
enemy’s heart is considered a peculiar enjoyment. Long mentions a
gentleman who came upon a party who were busy broiling a human heart,
when he with difficulty prevailed upon them to desist. There is little
hesitation amongst them, in periods of scarcity, to relieve hunger with
the flesh of their captives; and during one war, this fate is said to
have befallen many French soldiers who fell into the hands of the Five
Nations. Colonel Schuyler told Colden, that having entered the cabin of
a chief who had some rich soup before him, he was invited to partake.
Being hungry and tired, he readily agreed; till the ladle, being put
into the great cauldron, brought up a human hand, the sight of which put
an immediate end to his appetite and meal. Although war may be
considered as the ordinary state of those tribes, yet, after having for
a considerable time experienced its destructive effects, there usually
arises a desire for an interval of tranquillity. To procure this, a
regular form is observed. The nation which resolves to make the
overture, despatches several individuals, usually of some note, as
ambassadors, with at least one orator. They bear before them the calumet
of peace, which renders their character sacred, and secures them from
violence. They carry also a certain number of belts of wampum, with
which are respectively connected the several motives and terms of the
proposed treaty. The orator having obtained an audience of the chiefs on
the other side, expounds the belts, dancing and singing in unison, and
by actions expressing the peaceful purpose of his mission. If the
opposite party be favourably inclined, they accept the offered symbols,
and next day present others of a similar import. He then smokes in the
calumet, and the contract is sealed by burying a hatchet; if there be
any allies, one is deposited for each. This agreement is often
accompanied with professions, at the moment perhaps sincere, of
maintaining the sun always in the heavens, and never again digging up
the hatchet; but the turbulence of individuals, and the satiety of long
peace, to which the whole nation is subject, usually rekindle
hostilities at no distant period.
Some notice may, finally, be expected of Indian amusements; the most
favourite of which are smoking, music, and dancing. These, however, are
viewed in a much higher light than mere pastime; being ranked among the
most serious occupations, and esteemed quite indispensable in the
conduct of every important affair. Without them a council cannot be
held, a negotiation carried on, peace or war proclaimed, nor any public
or private contract entered into; for not one of these transactions is
accounted valid, till it has been smoked over, and sung and danced to.
The calumet is the grand instrument of their policy. No important affair
can be taken into consideration without the pipe in their mouths; and
hence, to call an assembly of the chiefs is said to be lighting the
council fire. This tube accompanies and is the guardian of every
embassy, and to smoke together is the chief cement of national union.
Music and dancing, accompanying each other, are equally indispensable to
every solemn celebration. Yet the instruments and performance are alike
simple and rude; for their song, though often continued for a long
period, consists merely in the perpetual reiteration of a few wild
melancholy notes. The words are usually of the minstrel’s own
composition, and record his exploits in war or hunting, and sometimes
the praises of the animals which he has killed in the chase. The song is
accompanied by performance on the drum, and on the chichikoue or pipe.
The former is merely a hollowed piece of wood covered with skin; the
latter is formed of a thick cane, upwards of two feet in length, with
eight or nine holes, and a mouthpiece not unlike that of a common
whistle. Those who know how to stop the holes, and bring out a sound,
consider themselves performers; yet they cannot play upon it even those
simple airs which they execute with the voice, though they will often
continue for hours drawing out wild irregular notes.