THE ARAUCANIANS.
DRESS--ETIQUETTE--GOVERNMENT.
DIVISION OF THE NATION INTO TRIBES -- THE MAPUCHÉS -- PECULIAR
STRUCTURE OF THE HEAD -- THE CHERIPA, PONCHO, AND BOOTS -- MODE OF
SHAVING -- DRESSING THE HAIR -- THE “PULLING HAIR” FIGHT -- DRESS OF
THE WOMEN -- THE ENORMOUS BREASTPIN -- SINGULAR USE OF THIMBLES --
ELABORATE HEADDRESS -- PAINT -- EXHIBITION OF FEMALE VANITY -- DRESS
OF THE CHILDREN -- ARCHITECTURE OF THE ARAUCANIANS -- THE CHIEF’S
HOUSE AND ITS FURNITURE -- LONG HOUSE OF THE MAPUCHÉS -- NUMBER OF
FIRES -- CODE OF ETIQUETTE -- THE SPEECH OF CEREMONY -- VALUE OF
ORATORY -- DEMAND OF TRIBUTE -- MODE OF GOVERNMENT -- THE GRAND TOQUI
-- THE COUNCILS OF PEACE AND WAR.
Passing northward from Patagonia, and taking a westerly direction,
we come to the ARAUCANIAN nation. This title was given to them by
the Spaniards, just as was the name of Patagonians to their southern
neighbors, and, although it is an incorrect one, it has been accepted
for so many years that it cannot be conveniently exchanged for the more
correct designation.
The aborigines of Chili and a part of the territory now occupied by
the Argentine Republic were formerly one great people, extending over
a very considerable portion of the land, and necessarily modified
in manners and customs by the influence of climate and geographical
position. Their general title was Alapu-ché, or People of the Land, but
they were separated into three great divisions, namely, Pehuen-ché, or
People of the East; Mara-ché, or People of the West; and Huili-ché, or
Far-off People, being those nearest to the Patagonians. Passing over
the wars with the Spaniards, as foreign to the object of this work,
we will describe the Mapuchés, or People of the Country, as they call
themselves.
* * * * *
These people are rather below the middle height, strong, thick-set,
broad-chested, and much inferior in point of form to the North American
tribes. The head is narrow, and low in front, broad and high behind,
and the back of the head falls in almost a direct line with the nape of
the neck, a peculiarity by which an Araucanian may almost invariably be
distinguished. The foot is as remarkable as the head. It is very short
and broad, and rises straight from the toes to the ankle with scarcely
any curve, so as to produce a very high but very clumsy looking instep.
The ordinary dress of the Mapuché men is mostly composed of two
garments, namely, the “cheripa” (pronounced _chĕreepah_) and the
poncho. The cheripa is a sort of compromise between a kilt and
trousers. It is a piece of stuff, mostly cotton, which is fastened
to the back of a girdle, passed between the legs, drawn up in front
there, and tucked then into the girdle. The poncho is nothing but a
large circular piece of stuff, with a hole in the centre, through which
the head passes. It is exactly similar in principle to the cloak of
Polynesia, and is at once a primitive, efficient, and graceful robe,
assuming with every change of attitude folds which delight the eye of
an artist.
Beside the poncho and cheripa, the Mapuché generally wears a pair
of boots, similar to those of the Patagonians, and made of similar
materials, the skin from the hind legs of a horse being drawn over the
foot while still fresh, so that it moulds itself to the leg of the
wearer. As with the Patagonians, it is open in front, so as to allow
the two first toes to pass through and grasp the small triangular
stirrup. The elaborate horse-accoutrements in which the Mapuchés
delight will be described when we come to the manners and customs of
the people. Men of rank wear woollen bracelets and anklets as marks of
their superior position.
Like most of the Araucanian tribes, the Mapuchés have but little beard,
and what they have they eradicate after the usual fashion of savages,
plucking out the individual hairs instead of shaving. Mr. R. E. Smith
had the opportunity of seeing the operation performed:--“At one house
where we stopped I saw an Indian, who at first sight seemed to be a
white man, from the fact that his beard was grown as though unshaven
for a week. He looked red and blotched, and was continually raising
his hand to some part of his face, wearing all the while an expression
of patient endurance. A close scrutiny showed that he was engaged in
shaving.
“These Indians pull out or nip off the beard with small steel tweezers.
This instrument was originally, as the Mapuché name signifies, a
clam shell, but, by intercourse with the whites, they have been able
to procure a more elegant article. Every dandy carries his tweezers
hanging from his neck, and at leisure moments amuses himself by
smoothing his face to the taste of his painted mistress. The arguments
they use in defence of their treatment of the beard are precisely those
used by shavelings the world over.”
They do not content themselves with merely removing the hair from the
chin, cheeks, and upper lip, but pull out the eyelashes and eyebrows,
substituting instead of the latter a slender curved line of black
paint. They say that the presence of the eyelashes hinders them in the
pursuit of bee hunting, a sport of which they are very fond, and on
which they pride themselves greatly. Some of the younger warriors have
allowed a very slight fringe of hair to remain on the upper lip, but
the older chiefs think that it is an innovation on the ancient customs,
and discountenance it as far as they can.
The hair of the head is cut short at the top, but is allowed to grow
long at the sides, in order that it may be easily grasped, just as the
North American tribes leave one long lock on the crown of the head so
as to assist the enemy who slays them in getting off the scalp.
When two lads quarrel, they settle the dispute with a fight, which is
conducted, not by blows with the fist or with a weapon, but by pulling
the hair. “Let us pull hair, if you are not afraid,” cries one of the
disputants to the other. The challenge is never refused. Off goes the
poncho, if they happen to be wearing it, the cheripa is tucked tightly
into the belt, the combatants allow each other to take a fair grasp of
the long locks, and the struggle begins. Each tries to twist the head
of his opponent so as to bring him to the ground, and when he has once
fallen, they loosen their grasp, rub the backs of their heads, take
a fresh grasp, and repeat the struggle until one of them yields. The
combat over, all animosity vanishes, and they are good friends again.
The dress of the women is, like that of the men, composed of two
garments, though they are differently put on. One is an enlarged
cheripa, and made of the same material. It is first wrapped round
the body close under the arms, and then pinned together over each
shoulder, so that the arms are left bare. It is confined at the waist
by a very broad belt, and falls nearly to the ankle. This alone is a
very sufficient dress, but over it is thrown a second piece of stuff
which acts as a shawl or mantle, being fastened in front with a pin
having a most enormously flat head, about the size of a cheese plate.
Sometimes the head is globular, but the flat form is the favorite, and
it is adorned with engraved figures. The cloth is mostly of native
manufacture, and is either black or a very dark indigo blue.
Like that of the men, the hair of the women is divided into two long
tails, one of which hangs over each shoulder. The tails are wound round
with spiral strings of blue beads, and their ends are connected by a
string of twelve or fourteen brass thimbles, which hang side by side,
like a peal of bells. Besides these ornaments, the women wear a sort of
cap, made entirely of beads, and falling over the back of the head as
far as the shoulders. Its lower edge is decorated with a row of brass
thimbles, like that which connects the two queues of the hair. This
elaborate headdress is only worn on great occasions, while ordinarily
the queues are wound round the head, the two ends projecting in front
like horns, a fillet, usually studded with beads, being employed to
keep the hair in its place. These peculiarities of dress are shown in
the illustration of a Mapuché family on page 1201.
Ornaments are worn according to the wealth of the owners. Strings of
beads, silver dollars, and brass thimbles are hung in profusion round
the neck, which is further decorated with a collar made of leather and
inlaid with silver. Wide bracelets and anklets are also worn, similar
to those of the men, but made of variously colored beads instead of
wool.
Paint is worn by both sexes, but chiefly by the women, and is anything
but ornamental. It is invariably of two colors, red and black, which
are mixed with grease, so that they can be applied and removed at
pleasure. The usual plan is to have a broad red belt from ear to
ear, taking in the cheeks, eyelids, and nose, the lower edge of the
belt being sometimes edged and scalloped with black. The eyelids and
lashes are also edged with black, and a thin line of the same hue
takes the place of the eyebrows, which are all removed except a very
fine row of hairs in the centre. Some of the women further decorate
their faces by spots of black paint. The women are exceedingly proud of
these ornaments; and an amusing instance of their vanity is related by
Mr. Smith:--“Our conversation turned upon female dress; and, without
intending any disparagement to our fair entertainers, we compared them
to the women whom we had seen at the house of Chancay. The women, who
were at work near by, did not understand half-a-dozen words of Spanish;
but, with that intuitive perception which belongs to the sex, they were
not long in discovering that our conversation related to themselves and
their dresses.
“Immediately they held a council of war; and, entering the house,
they presently returned, each with a bag of trinkets. There were
coverings for the head and breast, composed of strings of beads of all
colors and designs, with brass thimbles and silver coins. There were
rings and pendants for ears and nose; bracelets and anklets, collars
and breastpins of colossal proportions. These were held up for our
admiration; and that we might more fully realize their wealth, the
ladies proceeded to deck themselves with all their finery. They were at
the same time jabbering at the top of their lungs, praising their own
superiority to all other women, and appealing to us for a confirmation
of their own good opinions.
“Finally, the belle of the lot, having ornamented her head, breast, and
arms to their fullest capacity, stepped in advance of the others, and,
raising her dress as high as the knee, displayed to our astonished gaze
a remarkably well-rounded piece of flesh and blood. Patting the calf
with honest pride, and turning it about for our inspection, she hung it
round with beads, adjusted the many-colored anklets, and, snapping her
fingers contemptuously, poured out a perfect torrent of Mapuché.
“Unfortunately, there was no one near to interpret this language; but
from her action, and the frequent repetition of the name ‘Chancay,’ we
gathered her meaning to be pretty much that, in whatever else the wives
of Chancay might excel, she would defy them or any one else to produce
a finer leg than the one in question.”
The dress of the children is simple enough. As long as they are
infants, and not able to walk, they are tightly rolled up in bandages,
so as to be unable to move. In this helpless condition they are put
into bamboo cradles, and hung up on pegs driven into the walls of the
house, or laid in baskets suspended from the roof, so that they can
be swung about by a cord tied to the cradle. The infants are perfect
models of behavior, never crying, and allowing themselves to be hung
on pegs without betraying any signs of life, except the movement of the
eyes. As soon as they can walk, they are allowed to run about without
the incumbrance of any clothing, which is not worn until they become
boys and girls of seven or eight years old.
The architecture of the Araucanians is very simple, but differs
slightly according to the district, and the position of the owner of
the house. The ordinary house of a common man is a mere hut, built
of wicker-work, about twelve feet by ten, carelessly made, and ill
calculated to withstand the elements. On a wet day the rain pours
into the hut on all sides, a circumstance which has its advantages to
counterbalance its discomforts. On rainy days all cooking has to be
done within the house, which would be absolutely unbearable if the
apertures which let the rain in did not let the smoke out. At night,
moreover, these huts are overcrowded with sleepers.
In one of these huts there were three rude bedsteads, for the
accommodation of two married couples and a pair of grown-up girls,
while on the ground lay sixteen or seventeen young men and children,
packed together like herrings in a barrel. Moreover, a whole troop of
dogs came sneaking into the house as soon as the inmates closed their
eyes; so that within this limited space some thirty living beings were
contained during the night. It is evident that, if the hut had been
weather-proof, the whole party would have been suffocated before the
morning.
A better kind of habitation, visited by Mr. Smith, deserved the name
of house. It was rectangular instead of rounded, and measured thirty
feet in length by fifteen in breadth. In the middle of the roof was a
hole, by way of chimney, the fire being made directly beneath it. There
was no window, the hole and the door being the only apertures for the
admission of light and air.
There was only one room, though a sort of loft was made in the roof.
This was used as a storehouse, where sacks of beans and similar
luxuries were kept. As might be supposed, the whole upper part of
the house was thickly encrusted with soot. One of the corners was
partitioned off with a sort of wicker-work wall, and served as a
granary, in which the wheat was stored.
From the sooty, cobwebbed rafters hung bunches of maize, pumpkins,
joints of meat, nets full of potatoes, strings of capsicum pods, and
similar articles; while earthenware pots, dishes, and spears were
scattered in profusion over the floor. In the middle of all these
articles hung two long lances, with their points toward the door; but,
although their heads were protected by being stuck into lumps of fat,
they were rusty, and had evidently been long out of use.
Two of the corners were occupied with the ordinary bedstead of the
country, _i. e._ a framework of cane, with a bull’s hide stretched
tightly over it; and near the beds hung the stock of finery belonging
to the owner, namely, spurs, stirrups, and bits, all of solid silver,
belonging to the men, and breastpins, necklaces, earrings, strings of
thimbles, and other adornments of the women. The usual basket cradle,
containing a swathed baby, was suspended from one of the rafters.
The house of a cacique, or chief, is very much larger than either of
those which have been described, and somewhat resembles the “long
house” of Borneo. One of these houses, belonging to a cacique named
Ayllal, looked at a distance something between a very long boat and a
haystack. Its height was about fifteen feet, its width thirty, and its
length about one hundred and forty.
The middle of the house was common to all the inhabitants, but the
sides were partitioned off so as to form a series of chambers, each of
which belonged to a married son of the proprietor, or to one of his own
wives. In cases where the family is not a very large one, each wife has
her own fireplace; but when the number of families under one roof is
considerable, one fire is common to two or three of them. In Ayllal’s
house there were six fireplaces, and over each was a hole in the roof.
The fireplaces are nothing more than a few stones, so arranged that
the pots can be kept clear of the burning wood; and, as the ashes are
allowed to accumulate where they fall, or to be blown about by every
current of air, it is evident that the interior of such a house is not
a model of cleanliness.
In consequence of the custom of appropriating a separate fire to each
wife, the one is conventionally accepted as a metaphor for the other.
It is not considered polite to ask a man how many wives he has, but
etiquette permits any one to ask another how many fires he burns. In
front of the door hangs a cross-bar, beyond which no one ventures to
pass without a special invitation, unless he be an inmate of the house,
or an intimate friend of the family.
The Mapuchés exhibit in perfection that curious mixture of the savage
and the gentleman that is so often found among uncivilized people. They
have a most elaborate code of etiquette, which to a stranger is often
irksome, on account of the time which is consumed in going through the
requisite formalities. When two persons meet, it is necessary that they
should go through a set course of complimentary remarks, the omission
of which, except between relatives or very intimate friends, would be
held as an unpardonable offence. Let us take Mr. E. R. Smith’s account
of the ceremonial:--
“If the guest be a stranger, the host begins by addressing him with
‘I do not know you, brother,’ or ‘I have never seen you before.’
Thereupon the stranger mentions his own name and residence, and goes
on to ask the host about himself, his health, and that of his father,
mother, wives, and children; about his lands, crops, cattle, and
flocks: the chiefs of the district, the neighbors, _their_ wives,
children, crops, &c., are next inquired about; and whether there have
been any disturbances, diseases, deaths, or accidents.
“If the responses given are favorable, the questioner goes on to
express his happiness, and moralizes to the effect that health, wealth,
and friendship are great blessings, for which God should be thanked.
If, on the contrary, the answers should convey bad news, he condoles
with the afflicted, and philosophizes that misfortunes should be borne
with equanimity, since men cannot always avoid evil. The guest having
finished, the host commences in turn to ask all the same questions,
making such comments as the answers received may demand.
“This formality occupies ten or fifteen minutes. The questions and
answers are recited (by rote) in a low monotonous voice, with a
sing-song tone, not unlike the saying of the rosary or the chanting
of friars. At the end of each sentence, if the last word end with a
vowel, the voice is raised to a shout; but should the final letter be a
consonant, it is rounded off with a nasal grunt. The listener expresses
his satisfaction occasionally by a sound between a grunt and a groan,
or indicates surprise by a long-drawn “_Hué!_” With these exceptions,
he never interrupts until the speaker has given notice, by a peculiar
cadence of the voice, that he has said his say. During this palaver,
the speakers often do not look at each other, and frequently even sit
with their backs turned to one another.”
As soon as etiquette has been satisfied by these formalities, the
speakers assume their ordinary tone of voice, and converse freely on
subjects respecting which they really take an interest.
Oratory is highly valued by the Mapuchés, and should a young man have
some power of speech, and train it into eloquence, he is on the high
road to distinction, and will probably end by becoming a chief, though
originally of inferior rank. Such young men are always eagerly sought
by the chiefs as their messengers, inasmuch as etiquette requires that
such messengers should not only possess a retentive memory, so as to
insure, the transmission of the message correctly, but should also be
fluent of speech and choice of diction, the latter being a point in
which the Mapuchés are exceedingly fastidious.
A young man who shows himself to be a proficient in these three
requisites is sure to be taken into the service of an important chief,
and indeed he knows his own value too well to damage his prospects by
serving any except a man of very high rank. Acting as messenger, he
practically becomes a sort of ambassador, on whom the reputation of
his principal is reflected, and by associating with the chief men, and
speaking at their assemblies, he soon gains for himself that importance
which was formerly only accorded to his official capacity. Men of this
stamp have frequently become the masters of those whom they formerly
served, their abilities having raised them to their appropriate station.
To a stranger the eloquence of these men is utterly unintelligible.
They deliver their message in a sort of monotone, varied with
inflections, but without the least spirit or action. In fact, they very
much resemble schoolboys reciting a piece of poetry which they have
learned by rote without taking the trouble to understand it. Yet the
Mapuchés are held entranced during the delivery of such a discourse
by an accomplished orator, the purity of whose diction excites the
respectful admiration of his hearers.
Etiquette is so highly valued among the Araucanians that on one
occasion an English gentleman nearly lost his life by neglecting a
ceremonial. It seems that every chief, no matter how petty may be his
domain, expects that every stranger who passes through his territory
shall pay him a tribute. The amount of the tribute is of little
consequence, so that something is given as an acknowledgment of rank.
Being new to the country, the gentleman in question was passing through
the territory of a chief, when he was stopped and asked for tribute,
a demand which he refused to pay, on the ground that he was only a
traveller and not a trader. Thereupon a young man leaped into a cabin,
brought out a trumpet made of a horn, and blew a blast upon it. The
signal was answered in all directions, and from every side there poured
in a number of mounted and armed warriors. The traveller was not
daunted, in spite of the martial array, cocked his pistols, and awaited
the attack, when his guide ran up to him, and begged him to give them
something, _if it were only a pocket-handkerchief_.
The traveller saw at once, from the smallness of the suggested present,
that it was a mere question of etiquette, and munificently presented
the chief with a jack-knife. Enmity at once gave way to enthusiastic
friendship. The old chief was quite overcome by the splendor of the
gift, swore eternal friendship with the traveller, and sent a guard of
honor to accompany him for several miles on his way.
* * * * *
We naturally come to the mode of government employed by the Araucanians.
The four great divisions are subdivided into provinces, and these into
smaller districts, each of which is presided over by a chief, who
exercises a kind of patriarchal authority over his clansmen. He is
the judge and arbiter of the clan, and there is no appeal from his
decision. Yet he levies no taxes, and cannot force even the lowest of
his people to work for him. He can require the services of the men for
war or for business of state, but there his authority ends. No land can
be sold except by the chief, to whom it is by a sort of legal fiction
supposed to belong, and even he cannot sell it to any except a native
Araucanian, under penalty of death.
All these chiefs, or caciques, as they are often called, are considered
to be equals in point of rank, and independent of each other, though
one is chosen on account of his personal abilities to be the head chief
of the district, but merely as _primus inter pares_. The office of
chief is generally but not always hereditary. It mostly descends to
the eldest son, but the actual holder of the office may bequeath it
even to one who belongs to another family. Should a chief die without
sons, brother, or a recognized successor, the people have the power of
electing a chief for themselves, and it is on such occasions as these
that the eloquent messengers lately described find their opportunity of
being raised to the rank of cacique.
Up to this point the details of the government are simple enough. We
now have to consider a most singular arrangement, unlike that of any
other known nation. From the head chiefs of the various districts one
is chosen as the Toqui, or head of the province, and these Toquis form
the supreme council by whom the affairs of the nation are managed. From
among them one is selected as president of the council, and is called
by a title which signifies the Grand Toqui. He is the highest personage
in the state. He can summon councils whenever he sees occasion, he
watches over the welfare of the state, lays before his colleagues any
information that he considers important, and on special occasions he
can act on his own authority.
When Mr. E. R. Smith travelled in Araucania, the Grand Toqui was an old
chief named Mañin, who seems to have been worthy of the position which
he held. Mañin Hueno (“the Grass of Heaven”), as he was called by his
compatriots, or Mañin Bueno (“Mañin the Good”), as the Chilenos termed
him, was a very old man, his age being estimated as falling little
short of a century, though his general bearing was such that he might
have been taken for little more than sixty. His long black hair was but
slightly sprinkled with silver, his eye retained its brightness, and
his mien its uprightness; and though his many years had diminished his
strength, they had not affected his intellect.
He was held in the very highest respect, as indeed was due to his
acknowledged wisdom, by means of which war had many a time been
averted. Yet he was not a rich man, and in point of wealth the greater
number of the lesser chiefs were far richer than Mañin Hueno. His only
marks of wealth were the solid silver horse accoutrements--but even
these were not worth fifty pounds of our money; while his apparel was
of the simplest kind, a red and yellow handkerchief tied round his head
being the most costly article of his apparel.
When a council of Toquis is assembled, the members generally endeavor
to outshine each other in the magnificence of their appointments;
and after the day’s labor is over, they join in a general debauch,
which sometimes lasts for the whole of the next day, and prevents
the councillors from resuming their business until they have become
sufficiently sober.
Now comes the curious part of Araucanian government. The Supreme
Council treats only of the internal management of the nation, and is
technically called the Council of Peace. As soon as war is declared,
the Council of Peace falls into abeyance, and its place is taken by
the Council of War. This is headed by the Toqui of War, who, as long
as the war lasts, has unlimited power, except over life. He appoints
the officers, settles the number of warriors required, orders a
conscription to be set in operation in each district, and lays upon
each cacique the duty of levying a certain number of men, and raising a
certain amount of supplies. As soon as peace is concluded, he and all
his council retire from office, and the Council of Peace reassumes its
sway.