In my last, I gave some account of the village, and the customs, and
appearances of this strange people,—and I will now proceed to give
further details on that subject.
I have this morning, perched myself upon the top of one of the
earth-covered lodges, which I have before described, and having the
whole village beneath and about me (+plate+ 47), with its sachems—its
warriors—its dogs—and its horses in motion—its medicines (or mysteries)
and scalp-poles waving over my head—its piquets—its green fields and
prairies, and river in full view, with the din and bustle of the
thrilling panorama that is about me. I shall be able, I hope, to give
some sketches more to the life than I could have done from any effort
of recollection.
I said that the lodges or wigwams were covered with earth—were of forty
or sixty feet in diameter, and so closely grouped that there was but
just room enough to walk and ride between them,—that they had a door by
which to enter them, and a hole in the top for the admission of light,
and for the smoke to escape,—that the inmates were at times grouped
upon their tops in conversations and other amusements, &c.; and yet
you know not exactly how they look, nor what is the precise appearance
of the strange world that is about me. There is really a newness
and rudeness in every thing that is to be seen. There are several
hundred houses or dwellings about me, and they are purely unique—they
are all covered with dirt—the people are all red, and yet distinct
from all other red folks I have seen. The horses are wild—every dog
is a wolf—the whole moving mass are strangers to me: the living, in
everything, carry an air of intractable wildness about them, and the
dead are not buried, but dried upon scaffolds.
The groups of lodges around me present a very curious and pleasing
appearance, resembling in shape (more nearly than anything else I
can compare them to) so many potash-kettles inverted. On the tops
of these are to be seen groups standing and reclining, whose wild
and picturesque appearance it would be difficult to describe. Stern
warriors, like statues, standing in dignified groups, wrapped in their
painted robes, with their heads decked and plumed with quills of the
war-eagle; extending their long arms to the east or the west, the
scenes of their battles, which they are recounting over to each other.
In another direction, the wooing lover, softening the heart of his fair
Taih-nah-tai-a with the notes of his simple lute. On other lodges, and
beyond these, groups are engaged in games of the “moccasin,” or the
“platter.” Some are to be seen manufacturing robes and dresses, and
others, fatigued with amusements or occupations, have stretched their
limbs to enjoy the luxury of sleep, whilst basking in the sun. With
all this wild and varied medley of living beings are mixed their dogs,
which seem to be so near an Indian’s heart, as almost to constitute a
material link of his existence.
In the centre of the village is an open space, or public area, of 150
feet in diameter, and circular in form, which is used for all public
games and festivals, shews and exhibitions; and also for their “annual
religious ceremonies,” which are soon to take place, and of which I
shall hereafter give some account. The lodges around this open space
front in, with their doors towards the centre; and in the middle of
this circle stands an object of great religious veneration, as I am
told, on account of the importance it has in the conduction of those
annual religious rites.
This object is in form of a large hogshead, some eight or ten feet
high, made of planks and hoops, containing within it some of their
choicest medicines or mysteries, and religiously preserved unhacked or
scratched, as a symbol of the “Big Canoe,” as they call it.
One of the lodges fronting on this circular area, and facing this
strange object of their superstition, is called the “Medicine Lodge,”
or council house. It is in this sacred building that these wonderful
ceremonies, in commemoration of the flood, take place. I am told by the
Traders that the cruelties of these scenes are frightful and abhorrent
in the extreme; and that this huge wigwam, which is now closed, has
been built exclusively for this grand celebration. I am every day
reminded of the near approach of the season for this strange affair,
and as I have not yet seen any thing of it, I cannot describe it; I
know it only from the relations of the Traders who have witnessed parts
of it; and their descriptions are of so extraordinary a character, that
I would not be willing to describe until I can see for myself,—which
will, in all probability, be in a few days.
In ranging the eye over the village from where I am writing, there
is presented to the view the strangest mixture and medley of
unintelligible trash (independent of the living beings that are in
motion), that can possibly be imagined. On the roofs of the lodges,
besides the groups of living, are buffaloes’ skulls, skin canoes,
pots and pottery; sleds and sledges—and suspended on poles, erected
some twenty feet above the doors of their wigwams, are displayed in a
pleasant day, the scalps of warriors, preserved as trophies; and thus
proudly exposed as evidence of their warlike deeds. In other parts are
raised on poles the warriors’ pure and whitened shields and quivers,
with medicine-bags attached; and here and there a sacrifice of red
cloth, or other costly stuff, offered up to the Great Spirit, over
the door of some benignant chief, in humble gratitude for the blessings
which he is enjoying. Such is a part of the strange medley that is
before and around me; and amidst them and the blue streams of smoke
that are rising from the tops of these hundred “coal-pits,” can be
seen in distance, the green and boundless, treeless, bushless prairie;
and on it, and contiguous to the piquet which encloses the village, a
hundred scaffolds on which their “dead live,” as they term it.
[Illustration: 47]
[Illustration: 48]
These people never bury the dead, but place the bodies on slight
scaffolds just above the reach of human hands, and out of the way of
wolves and dogs; and they are there left to moulder and decay. This
cemetery, or place of deposite for the dead, is just back of the
village, on a level prairie (+plate+ 48); and with all its appearances,
history, forms, ceremonies, &c. is one of the strangest and most
interesting objects to be described in the vicinity of this peculiar
race.
Whenever a person dies in the Mandan village, and the customary honours
and condolence are paid to his remains, and the body dressed in its
best attire, painted, oiled, feasted, and supplied with bow and quiver,
shield, pipe and tobacco—knife, flint and steel, and provisions enough
to last him a few days on the journey which he is to perform; a fresh
buffalo’s skin, just taken from the animal’s back, is wrapped around
the body, and tightly bound and wound with thongs of raw hide from head
to foot. Then other robes are soaked in water, till they are quite
soft and elastic, which are also bandaged around the body in the same
manner, and tied fast with thongs, which are wound with great care and
exactness, so as to exclude the action of the air from all parts of the
body.
There is then a separate scaffold erected for it, constructed of four
upright posts, a little higher than human hands can reach; and on the
tops of these are small poles passing around from one post to the
others; across which a number of willow-rods just strong enough to
support the body, which is laid upon them on its back, with its feet
carefully presented towards the rising sun.
There are a great number of these bodies resting exactly in a similar
way; excepting in some instances where a chief, or medicine-man, may
be seen with a few yards of scarlet or blue cloth spread over his
remains, as a mark of public respect and esteem. Some hundreds of these
bodies may be seen reposing in this manner in this curious place, which
the Indians call, “the village of the dead;” and the traveller, who
visits this country to study and learn, will not only be struck with
the novel appearance of the scene; but if he will give attention to
the respect and devotions that are paid to this sacred place, he will
draw many a moral deduction that will last him through life: he will
learn, at least, that filial, conjugal, and paternal affection are not
necessarily the results of civilization; but that the Great Spirit
has given them to man in his native state; and that the spices and
improvements of the enlightened world have never refined upon them.
There is not a day in the year in which one may not see in this place
evidences of this fact, that will wring tears from his eyes, and kindle
in his bosom a spark of respect and sympathy for the poor Indian, if
he never felt it before. Fathers, mothers, wives, and children, may
be seen lying under these scaffolds, prostrated upon the ground, with
their faces in the dirt, howling forth incessantly the most piteous
and heart-broken cries and lamentations for the misfortunes of their
kindred; tearing their hair—cutting their flesh with their knives,
and doing other penance to appease the spirits of the dead, whose
misfortunes they attribute to some sin or omission of their own, for
which they sometimes inflict the most excruciating self-torture.
When the scaffolds on which the bodies rest, decay and fall to the
ground, the nearest relations having buried the rest of the bones,
take the skulls, which are perfectly bleached and purified, and place
them in circles of an hundred or more on the prairie—placed at equal
distances apart (some eight or nine inches from each other), with the
faces all looking to the centre; where they are religiously protected
and preserved in their precise positions from year to year, as objects
of religious and affectionate veneration (+plate+ 48).
There are several of these “Golgothas” or circles of twenty or thirty
feet in diameter, and in the centre of each ring or circle is a
little mound of three feet high, on which uniformly rest two buffalo
skulls (a male and female); and in the centre of the little mound is
erected a “medicine pole,” about twenty feet high, supporting many
curious articles of mystery and superstition, which they suppose have
the power of guarding and protecting this sacred arrangement. Here
then, to this strange place do these people again resort, to evince
their further affections for the dead—not in groans and lamentations
however, for several years have cured the anguish; but fond affections
and endearments are here renewed, and conversations are here held and
cherished with the dead.
Each one of these skulls is placed upon a bunch of wild sage, which
has been pulled and placed under it. The wife knows (by some mark or
resemblance) the skull of her husband or her child, which lies in this
group; and there seldom passes a day that she does not visit it, with
a dish of the best cooked food that her wigwam affords, which she sets
before the skull at night, and returns for the dish in the morning.
As soon as it is discovered that the sage on which the skull rests is
beginning to decay, the woman cuts a fresh bunch, and places the skull
carefully upon it, removing that which was under it.
Independent of the above-named duties, which draw the women to this
spot, they visit it from inclination, and linger upon it to hold
converse and company with the dead. There is scarcely an hour in a
pleasant day, but more or less of these women may be seen sitting or
laying by the skull of their child or husband—talking to it in the most
pleasant and endearing language that they can use (as they were wont
to do in former days) and seemingly getting an answer back. It is not
unfrequently the case, that the woman brings her needle-work with her,
spending the greater part of the day, sitting by the side of the skull
of her child, chatting incessantly with it, while she is embroidering
or garnishing a pair of moccasins; and perhaps, overcome with fatigue,
falls asleep, with her arms encircled around it, forgetting herself for
hours; after which she gathers up her things and returns to the village.
There is something exceedingly interesting and impressive in these
scenes, which are so strikingly dissimilar, and yet within a few rods
of each other; the one is the place where they pour forth the frantic
anguish of their souls—and afterwards pay their visits to the other, to
jest and gossip with the dead.
The great variety of shapes and characters exhibited in these groups
of crania, render them a very interesting study for the craniologist
and phrenologist; but I apprehend that it would be a matter of great
difficulty (if not of impossibility) to procure them at this time, for
the use and benefit of the scientific world.
LETTER—No. 13.