Now for medicines or mysteries—for doctors, high-priests, for hocus
pocus, witchcraft, and animal magnetism!
In the last Letter I spoke of Pe-toh-pee-kiss (the eagle ribs), a
Blackfoot brave, whose portrait I had just painted at full length, in
a splendid dress. I mentioned also, that he held two medicine-bags in
his hand; as they are represented in the picture; both of them made of
the skins of otters, and curiously ornamented with ermine, and other
strange things.
I must needs stop here—my painting and every thing else, until I can
explain the word “_medicine_,” and “_medicine-bag_;” and also some
_medicine operations_, which I have seen transacted at this place
within a few days past. “Medicine” is a great word in this country; and
it is very necessary that one should know the meaning of it, whilst he
is scanning and estimating the Indian character, which is made up, in a
great degree, of mysteries and superstitions.
The word medicine, in its common acceptation here, means _mystery_, and
nothing else; and in that sense I _shall_ use it very frequently in my
Notes on Indian Manners and Customs.
The Fur Traders in this country, are nearly all French; and in their
language, a doctor or physician, is called “_Medecin_.” The Indian
country is full of doctors; and as they are all magicians, and skilled,
or profess to be skilled, in many mysteries, the word “medecin” has
become habitually applied to every thing mysterious or unaccountable;
and the English and Americans, who are also trading and passing through
this country, have easily and familiarly adopted the same word, with
a slight alteration, conveying the same meaning; and to be a little
more explicit, they have denominated these personages “medicine-men,”
which means something more than merely a doctor or physician. These
physicians, however, are all _medicine-men_, as they are all supposed
to deal more or less in mysteries and charms, which are aids and
handmaids in their practice. Yet it was necessary to give the word or
phrase a still more comprehensive meaning—as there were many personages
amongst them, and also amongst the white men who visit the country,
who could deal in mysteries, though not skilled in the application of
drugs and medicines; and they all range now, under the comprehensive
and accommodating phrase of “medicine-men.” For instance, I am a
“medicine-man” of the highest order amongst these superstitious
people, on account of the art which I practice; which is a strange and
unaccountable thing to them, and of course, called the greatest of
“medicine.” My gun and pistols, which have percussion-locks, are great
medicine; and no Indian can be prevailed on to fire them off, for they
say they have nothing to do with white man’s medicine.
The Indians do not use the word medicine, however; but in each tribe
they have a word of their own construction, synonimous with mystery or
mystery-man.
The “medicine-bag” then, is a mystery-bag; and its meaning and
importance necessary to be understood, as it may be said to be the
key to Indian life and Indian character. These bags are constructed
of the skins of animals, of birds, or of reptiles, and ornamented and
preserved in a thousand different ways, as suits the taste or freak of
the person who constructs them. These skins are generally attached to
some part of the clothing of the Indian, or carried in his hand—they
are oftentimes decorated in such a manner as to be exceedingly
ornamental to his person, and always are stuffed with grass, or moss,
or something of the kind; and generally without drugs or medicines
within them, as they are religiously closed and sealed, and seldom, if
ever, to be opened. I find that every Indian in his primitive state,
carries his medicine-bag in some form or other, to which he pays the
greatest homage, and to which he looks for safety and protection
through life—and in fact, it might almost be called a species of
idolatry; for it would seem in some instances, as if he actually
worshipped it. Feasts are often made, and dogs and horses sacrificed,
to a man’s medicine; and days, and even weeks, of fasting and penance
of various kinds are often suffered, to appease his medicine, which he
imagines he has in some way offended.
This curious custom has principally been done away with along the
frontier, where white men laugh at the Indian for the observance of so
ridiculous and useless a form; but in this country it is in full force,
and every male in the tribe carries this, his supernatural charm or
guardian, to which he looks for the preservation of his life, in battle
or in other danger; at which times it would be considered ominous of
bad luck and an ill fate to be without it.
The manner in which this curious and important article is instituted
is this: a boy, at the age of fourteen or fifteen years, is said to
be making or “forming his medicine,” when he wanders away from his
father’s lodge, and absents himself for the space of two or three, and
sometimes even four or five, days; lying on the ground in some remote
or secluded spot, crying to the Great Spirit, and fasting the whole
time. During this period of peril and abstinence, when he falls asleep,
the first animal, bird, or reptile, of which he dreams (or pretends to
have dreamed, perhaps), he considers the Great Spirit has designated
for his mysterious protector through life. He then returns home to his
father’s lodge, and relates his success; and after allaying his thirst,
and satiating his appetite, he sallies forth with weapons or traps,
until he can procure the animal or bird, the skin of which he preserves
entire, and ornaments it according to his own fancy, and carries
it with him through life, for “good luck” (as he calls it); as his
strength in battle—and in death his guardian _Spirit_, that is buried
with him, and which is to conduct him safe to the beautiful hunting
grounds, which he contemplates in the world to come.
The value of the medicine-bag to the Indian is beyond all price; for
to sell it, or give it away, would subject him to such signal disgrace
in his tribe, that he could never rise above it; and again, his
superstition would stand in the way of any such disposition of it, for
he considers it the gift of the Great Spirit. An Indian carries his
_medicine-bag_ into battle, and trusts to it for his protection; and
if he loses it thus, when fighting ever so bravely for his country,
he suffers a disgrace scarcely less than that which occurs in case he
sells or gives it away; his enemy carries it off and displays it to his
own people as a trophy; whilst the loser is cut short of the respect
that is due to other young men of his tribe, and for ever subjected
to the degrading epithet of “a man without medicine,” or “he who has
lost his medicine,” until he can replace it again; which can only be
done, by rushing into battle and plundering one from an enemy whom he
slays with his own hand. This done, his medicine is restored, and he
is reinstated again in the estimation of his tribe; and even higher
than before, for such is called the best of medicine, or “_medicine
honourable_.”
It is a singular fact, that a man can institute his mystery or
medicine, but once in his life; and equally singular that he can
reinstate himself by the adoption of the medicine of his enemy; both
of which regulations are strong and violent inducements for him to
fight bravely in battle: the first, that he may protect and preserve
his medicine; and the second, in case he has been so unlucky as to
lose it, that he may restore it, and his reputation also, while he is
desperately contending for the protection of his community.
During my travels thus far, I have been unable to buy a medicine-bag of
an Indian, although I have offered them extravagant prices for them;
and even on the frontier, where they have been induced to abandon the
practice, though a white man may induce an Indian to relinquish his
medicine, yet he cannot _buy_ it of him—the Indian in such case will
bury it, to please a white man, and save it from his sacrilegious
touch; and he will linger around the spot and at regular times visit it
and pay it his devotions, as long as he lives.
These curious appendages to the persons or wardrobe of an Indian
(+plate+ 18, _g_), are sometimes made of the skin of an otter, a
beaver, a musk-rat, a weazel, a racoon, a pole-cat, a snake, a frog,
a toad, a bat, a mouse, a mole, a hawk, an eagle, a magpie, or a
sparrow:—sometimes of the skin of an animal so large as a wolf; and
at others, of the skins of the lesser animals, so small that they
are hidden under the dress, and very difficult to be found, even if
searched for.
Such then is the medicine-bag—such its meaning and importance; and when
its owner dies, it is placed in his grave and decays with his body.
In the case of the portrait of which I spoke in the beginning
of this Letter, there are seen two medicine-bags in the hand of
Pe-toh-pee-kiss; the one was of his own instituting, and the other was
taken from his enemy, whom he had slain in battle; both of these he has
a right to display and boast of on such an occasion. This is but the
beginning or incipient stage of “medicines,” however, in this strange
and superstitious country; and if you have patience, I will carry you
a few degrees further into the mysteries of conjuration, before I
close this Letter. Sit still then and read, until I relate a scene of
a tragic, and yet of the most grotesque character, which took place in
this Fort a few days since, and to all of which I was an eye-witness.
The scene I will relate as it transpired precisely; and call it the
story of the “doctor,” or the “Blackfoot medicine-man.”
Not many weeks since, a party of Knisteneaux came here from the north,
for the purpose of making their summer’s trade with the Fur Company;
and, whilst here, a party of Blackfeet, their natural enemies (the
same who are here now), came from the west, also to trade. These two
belligerent tribes encamped on different sides of the Fort, and had
spent some weeks here in the Fort and about it, in apparently good
feeling and fellowship; unable in fact to act otherwise, for, according
to a regulation of the Fort their arms and weapons were all locked up
by M‘Kenzie in his “arsenal,” for the purpose of preserving the peace
amongst these fighting-cocks.
The Knisteneaux had completed their trade, and loitered about the
premises, until all, both Indians and white men, were getting tired of
their company, wishing them quietly off. When they were ready to start,
with their goods packed upon their backs, their arms were given them,
and they started; bidding everybody, both friends and foes, a hearty
farewell. They went out of the Fort, and though the party gradually
moved off, one of them undiscovered, loitered about the Fort, until he
got an opportunity to poke the muzzle of his gun through between the
piquets; when he fired it at one of the chiefs of the Blackfeet, who
stood within a few paces, talking with Mr. M‘Kenzie, and shot him with
two musket bullets through the centre of his body! The Blackfoot fell,
and rolled about upon the ground in the agonies of death. The Blackfeet
who were in the Fort seized their weapons and ran in a mass out of the
Fort, in pursuit of the Knisteneaux, who were rapidly retreating to the
bluffs. The Frenchmen in the Fort, also, at so flagrant and cowardly
an insult, seized their guns and ran out, joining the Blackfeet in
the pursuit. I, at that moment, ran to my painting-room in one of the
bastions overlooking the plain, where I had a fair view of the affair;
many shots were exchanged back and forward, and a skirmish ensued
which lasted half an hour; the parties, however, were so far apart
that little effect was produced; the Knisteneaux were driven off over
the bluffs, having lost one man and had several others wounded. The
Blackfeet and Frenchmen returned into the Fort, and then, I saw what
I never before saw in my life—I saw a “_medicine-man_” performing his
mysteries over a dying man. The man who had been shot was still living,
though two bullets had passed through the centre of his body, about two
inches apart from each other; he was lying on the ground in the agonies
of death, and no one could indulge the slightest hope of his recovery;
yet the _medicine-man_ must needs be called (for such a personage they
had in their party), and hocus pocus applied to the dying man, as the
dernier resort, when all drugs and all specifics were useless, and
after all possibility of recovery was extinct!
[Illustration: 18]
I have mentioned that all tribes have their physicians, who are also
medicine (or mystery) men. These professional gentlemen are worthies
of the highest order in all tribes. They are regularly called and paid
as physicians, to prescribe for the sick; and many of them acquire
great skill in the medicinal world, and gain much celebrity in their
nation. Their first prescriptions are roots and herbs, of which they
have a great variety of species; and when these have all failed, their
last resort is to “_medicine_” or mystery; and for this purpose,
each one of them has a strange and unaccountable dress, conjured up
and constructed during a life-time of practice, in the wildest fancy
imaginable, in which he arrays himself, and makes his last visit to
his dying patient,—dancing over him, shaking his frightful rattles,
and singing songs of incantation, in hopes to cure him by a charm.
There are some instances, of course, where the exhausted patient
unaccountably recovers, under the application of these absurd forms;
and in such cases, this ingenious son of _Indian_ Esculapius will be
seen for several days after, on the top of a wigwam, with his right arm
extended and waving over the gaping multitude, to whom he is vaunting
forth, without modesty, the surprising skill he has acquired in his
art, and the undoubted efficacy of his medicine or mystery. But if, on
the contrary, the patient dies, he soon changes his dress, and joins in
doleful lamentations with the mourners; and easily, with his craft, and
the ignorance and superstition of his people, protects his reputation
and maintains his influence over them; by assuring them, that it was
the will of the Great Spirit that his patient should die, and when sent
for, his feeble efforts must cease.
Such was the case, and such the extraordinary means resorted to in
the instance I am now relating. Several hundred spectators, including
Indians and traders, were assembled around the dying man, when it was
announced that the “_medicine-man_” was coming; we were required to
“form a ring,” leaving a space of some thirty or forty feet in diameter
around the dying man, in which the doctor could perform his wonderful
operations; and a space was also opened to allow him free room to pass
through the crowd without touching any one. This being done, in a
few moments his arrival was announced by the death-like “hush——sh——”
through the crowd; and nothing was to be heard, save the light and
casual tinkling of the rattles upon his dress, which was scarcely
perceptible to the ear, as he cautiously and slowly moved through the
avenue left for him; which at length brought him into the ring, in view
of the pitiable object over whom his mysteries were to be performed.
Readers! you may have seen or read of the witch of Endor—or you may
imagine all the ghosts, and spirits, and furies, that ever ranked
amongst the “rank and file” of demonology; and yet you must see my
painting of this strange scene before you can form a just conception of
real frightful ugliness and Indian conjuration—yes, and even more: you
must see the magic _dress_ of this Indian “big bug” (which I have this
day procured in all its parts), placed upon the back of some person who
can imitate the strides, and swells, the grunts, and spring the rattles
of an Indian magician.
His entrée and his garb were somewhat thus:—he approached the ring
with his body in a crouching position (+plate+ 19), with a slow and
tilting step—his body and head were entirely covered with the skin of
a yellow bear, the head of which (his own head being inside of it)
served as a mask; the huge claws of which also, were dangling on his
wrists and ancles; in one hand he shook a frightful rattle, and in the
other brandished his medicine-spear or magic wand; to the rattling din
and discord of all of which, he added the wild and startling jumps
and yelps of the Indian, and the horrid and appalling grunts, and
snarls, and growls of the grizzly bear, in ejaculatory and guttural
incantations to the Good and Bad Spirits, in behalf of his patient; who
was rolling and groaning in the agonies of death, whilst he was dancing
around him, jumping over him, and pawing him about, and rolling him in
every direction.
In this wise, this strange operation proceeded for half an hour, to the
surprise of a numerous and death-like silent audience, until the man
died; and the medicine-man danced off to his quarters, and packed up,
and tied and secured from the sight of the world, his mystery dress and
equipments.
This dress, in all its parts, is one of the greatest curiosities in the
whole collection of Indian manufactures which I have yet obtained in
the Indian country. It is the strangest medley and mixture, perhaps of
the mysteries of the animal and vegetable kingdoms that ever was seen.
Besides the skin of the yellow bear (which being almost an anomaly in
that country, is out of the regular order of nature, and, of course,
great medicine, and converted to a medicine use), there are attached to
it the skins of many animals, which are also anomalies or deformities,
which render them, in their estimation, _medicine_; and there are also
the skins of snakes, and frogs, and bats,—beaks and toes and tails of
birds,—hoofs of deer, goats, and antelopes; and, in fact, the “odds
and ends,” and fag ends, and tails, and tips of almost everything that
swims, flies, or runs, in this part of the wide world.
Such is a medicine-man or a physician, and such is one of his wild
and ridiculous manœuvres, which I have just witnessed in this strange
country.
These men, as I before remarked, are valued as dignitaries in the
tribe, and the greatest respect is paid to them by the whole community;
not only for their skill in their “materia medica;” but more
especially for their tact in magic and mysteries, in which they all
deal to a very great extent. I shall have much more to say of these
characters and their doings in future epistles, and barely observe in
the present place, that no tribe is without them;—that in all tribes
their doctors are conjurors—are magicians—are sooth-sayers, and I had
like to have said, high-priests, inasmuch as they superintend and
conduct all their religious ceremonies;—they are looked upon by all
as oracles of the nation. In all councils of war and peace, they have
a seat with the chiefs—are regularly consulted before any public step
is taken, and the greatest deference and respect is paid to their
opinions.
[Illustration: 19]
LETTER—No. 7.