Dans l’Amérique Méridionale quelque Peuples décharnent les corps de
leurs Guerriers et les mangent leurs chairs, ainsi que je viens de
le dire, et après les avoir consumées, ils conservent pendant
quelque temps leurs cadavres avec respect dans leurs Cabanes, et il
portent ces squeletes dans les combats en guise d’Etendard, pour
ranimer leur courage par cette vue et inspirer de la terreur à leurs
ennemis. * * *
[Illustration: FIG. 31.--Launching the Burial Cradle.]
Il est vrai qu’il y en a qui font festin des cadavres de leurs
parens; mais il est faux qu’elles les mettent à mort dans leur
vieillesse, pour avoir le plaisir de se nourrir de leur chair, et
d’en faire un repas. Quelques Nations de l’Amérique Méridionale, qui
ont encore cette coutume de manger les corps morts de leurs parens,
n’en usent ainsi que par piété, piété mal entenduë à la verité, mais
piété colorée néanmoins par quelque ombre de raison; car ils croyent
leur donner une sépulture bien plus honorable.
To the credit of our savages, this barbarous and revolting practice is
not believed to have been practiced by them.
MOURNING, SACRIFICE, FEASTS, FOOD, DANCES, SONGS, GAMES, POSTS, FIRES,
AND SUPERSTITIONS IN CONNECTION WITH BURIAL.
The above subjects are coincident with burial, and some of them,
particularly mourning, have been more or less treated of in this paper,
yet it may be of advantage to here give a few of the collected examples,
under separate heads.
_MOURNING._
One of the most carefully described scenes of mourning at the death of a
chief of the Crows is related in the life of Beckwourth,[86] who for
many years lived among this people, finally attaining great distinction
as a warrior.
I dispatched a herald to the village to inform them of the head
chief’s death, and then, burying him according to his directions, we
slowly proceeded homewards. My very soul sickened at the
contemplation of the scenes that would be enacted at my arrival.
When we drew in sight of the village, we found every lodge laid
prostrate. We entered amid shrieks, cries, and yells. Blood was
streaming from every conceivable part of the bodies of all who were
old enough to comprehend their loss. Hundreds of fingers were
dismembered; hair torn from the head lay in profusion about the
paths; wails and moans in every direction assailed the ear, where
unrestrained joy had a few hours before prevailed. This fearful
mourning lasted until evening of the next day. * * *
A herald having been dispatched to our other villages to acquaint
them with the death of our head chief, and request them to assemble
at the Rose Bud, in order to meet our village and devote themselves
to a general time of mourning, there met, in conformity to the
summons, over ten thousand Crows at the place indicated. Such a
scene of disorderly, vociferous mourning, no imagination can
conceive nor any pen portray. Long Hair cut off a large roll of his
hair; a thing he was never known to do before. The cutting and
hacking of human flesh exceeded all my previous experience; fingers
were dismembered as readily as twigs, and blood was poured out like
water. Many of the warriors would cut two gashes nearly the entire
length of their arm; then, separating the skin from the flesh at one
end, would grasp it in their other hand, and rip it asunder to the
shoulder. Others would carve various devices upon their breasts and
shoulders, and raise the skin in the same manner to make the scars
show to advantage after the wound was healed. Some of their
mutilations were ghastly, and my heart sickened to look at them, but
they would not appear to receive any pain from them.
It should be remembered that many of Beckwourth’s statements are to be
taken _cum grana salis_.
From I. L. Mahan, United States Indian agent for the Chippewas of Lake
Superior, Red Cliff, Wisconsin, the following detailed account of
mourning has been received:
There is probably no people that exhibit more sorrow and grief for
their dead than they. The young widow mourns the loss of her
husband; by day as by night she is heard silently sobbing; she is a
constant visitor to the place of rest; with the greatest reluctance
will she follow the raised camp. The friends and relatives of the
young mourner will incessantly devise methods to distract her mind
from the thought of her lost husband. She refuses nourishment, but
as nature is exhausted she is prevailed upon to partake of food; the
supply is scant, but on every occasion the best and largest
proportion is deposited upon the grave of her husband. In the mean
time the female relatives of the deceased have, according to custom,
submitted to her charge a parcel made up of different cloths
ornamented with bead-work and eagle’s feathers, which she is charged
to keep by her side--the place made vacant by the demise of her
husband--a reminder of her widowhood. She is therefore for a term of
twelve moons not permitted to wear any finery, neither is she
permitted to slicken up and comb her head; this to avoid attracting
attention. Once in a while a female relative of deceased,
commiserating with her grief and sorrow, will visit her and
voluntarily proceed to comb out the long-neglected and matted hair.
With a jealous eye a vigilant watch is kept over her conduct during
the term of her widowhood, yet she is allowed the privilege to
marry, any time during her widowhood, an unmarried brother or
cousin, or a person of the same _Dodem_ [_sic_] (family mark) of her
husband.
At the expiration of her term, the vows having been faithfully
performed and kept, the female relatives of deceased assemble and,
with greetings commensurate to the occasion, proceed to wash her
face, comb her hair, and attire her person with new apparel, and
otherwise demonstrating the release from her vow and restraint.
Still she has not her entire freedom. If she will still refuse to
marry a relative of the deceased and will marry another, she then
has to purchase her freedom by giving a certain amount of goods and
whatever else she might have manufactured during her widowhood in
anticipation of the future now at hand. Frequently, though, during
widowhood the vows are disregarded and an inclination to flirt and
play courtship or form an alliance of marriage outside of the
relatives of the deceased is being indulged, and when discovered the
widow is set upon by the female relatives, her slick braided hair is
shorn close up to the back of her neck, all her apparel and trinkets
are torn from her person, and a quarrel frequently results fatally
to some member of one or the other side.
Thomas L. McKenney[87] gives a description of the Chippewa widow which
differs slightly from the one above:
I have noticed several women here carrying with them rolls of
clothing. On inquiring what these imported, I learn that they _are
widows_ who carry them, and that these are badges of mourning. It is
indispensable, when a woman of the Chippeway Nation loses her
husband, for her to take of her best apparel--and the whole of it is
not worth a dollar--and roll it up, and confine it by means of her
husband’s sashes; and if he had ornaments, these are generally put
on the top of the roll, and around it is wrapped a piece of cloth.
This bundle is called her husband, and it is expected that she is
never to be seen without it. If she walks out she takes it with her;
if she sits down in her lodge, she places it by her side. This badge
of widowhood and of mourning the widow is compelled to carry with
her until some of her late husband’s family shall call and take it
away, which is done when they think she has mourned long enough, and
which is generally at the expiration of a year. She is then, but not
before, released from her mourning, and at liberty to marry again.
She has the privilege to take this husband to the family of the
deceased and leave it, but this is considered indecorous, and is
seldom done. Sometimes a brother of the deceased takes the widow for
his wife at the grave of her husband, which is done by a ceremony of
walking her over it. And this he has a right to do; and when this is
done she is not required to go into mourning; or, if she chooses,
she has the right _to go to him_, and he is _bound_ to support her.
[Illustration: FIG. 32.--Chippewa Widow.]
I visited a lodge to-day, where I saw one of these badges. The size
varies according to the quantity of clothing which the widow may
happen to have. It is expected of her to put up her _best_ and wear
her _worst_. The “_husband_” I saw just now was 30 inches high and
18 inches in circumference.
I was told by the interpreter that he knew a woman who had been left
to mourn after this fashion for years, none of her husband’s family
calling for the badge or token of her grief. At a certain time it
was told her that some of her husband’s family were passing, and she
was advised to speak to them on the subject. She did so, and told
them she had mourned long and was poor; that she had no means to buy
clothes, and her’s being all in the mourning badge, and sacred,
could not be touched. She expressed a hope that her request might
not be interpreted into a wish to marry; it was only made that she
might be placed in a situation to get some clothes. She got for
answer, that “they were going to Mackinac, and would think of it.”
They left her in this state of uncertainty, but on returning, and
finding her faithful still, they took her “husband” and presented
her with clothing of various kinds. Thus was she rewarded for her
constancy and made comfortable.
The Choctaw widows mourn by never combing their hair for the term of
their grief, which is generally about a year. The Chippeway men
mourn by painting their faces black.
I omitted to mention that when presents are going round, the badge
of mourning, this “_husband_” comes in for an equal share, as if it
were the living husband.
A Chippeway mother, on losing her child, prepares an image of it in
the best manner she is able, and dresses it as she did her living
child, and fixes it in the kind of cradle I have referred to, and
goes through the ceremonies of nursing it as if it were alive, by
dropping little particles of food in the direction of its mouth, and
giving it of whatever the living child partook. This ceremony also
is generally observed for a year.
Figure 32 represents the Chippewa widow holding in her arms the
substitute for the dead husband.
The substitution of a reminder for the dead husband, made from rags,
furs, and other articles, is not confined alone to the Chippewas, other
tribes having the same custom. In some instances the widows are obliged
to carry around with them, for a variable period, a bundle containing
the bones of the deceased consort.
Similar observances, according to Bancroft,[88] were followed by some of
the Central American tribes of Indians, those of the Sambos and
Mosquitos being as follows:
The widow was bound to supply the grave of her husband for a year,
after which she took up the bones and carried them with her for
another year, at last placing them upon the roof of her house, and
then only was she allowed to marry again.
On returning from the grave the property of the deceased is
destroyed, the cocoa palms being cut down, and all who have taken
part in the funeral undergo a lustration in the river. Relatives cut
off the hair, the men leaving a ridge along the middle from the nape
of the neck to the forehead. Widows, according to some old writers,
after supplying the grave with food for a year take up the bones and
carry them on the back in the daytime, sleeping with them at night
for another year, after which they are placed at the door or upon
the house-top. On the anniversary of deaths, friends of the deceased
hold a feast, called _seekroe_, at which large quantities of liquor
are drained to his memory. Squier, who witnessed the ceremonies on
an occasion of this kind, says that males and females were dressed
in _ule_ cloaks fantastically painted black and white, while their
faces were correspondingly streaked with red and yellow, and they
performed a slow walk around, prostrating themselves at intervals
and calling loudly upon the dead and tearing the ground with their
hands. At no other time is the departed referred to, the very
mention of his name being superstitiously avoided. Some tribes
extend a thread from the house of death to the grave, carrying it in
a straight line over every obstacle. Fröebel states that among the
Woolwas all property of the deceased is buried with him, and that
both husband and wife cut the hair and burn the hut on the death of
either, placing a gruel of maize upon the grave for a certain time.
Benson[89] gives the following account of the Choctaws’ funeral
ceremonies, embracing the disposition of the body, mourning feast and
dance:
Their funeral is styled by them “the last cry.”
When the husband dies the friends assemble, prepare the grave, and
place the corpse in it, but do not fill it up. The gun, bow and
arrows, hatchet, and knife are deposited in the grave. Poles are
planted at the head and the foot, upon which flags are placed; the
grave is then inclosed by pickets driven in the ground. The funeral
ceremonies now begin, the widow being the chief mourner. At night
and morning she will go to the grave and pour forth the most piteous
cries and wailings. It is not important that any other member of the
family should take any very active part in the “cry,” though they do
participate to some extent.
The widow wholly neglects her toilet, while she daily goes to the
grave during one entire moon from the date when the death occurred.
On the evening of the last day of the moon the friends all assemble
at the cabin of the disconsolate widow, bringing provisions for a
sumptuous feast, which consists of corn and jerked beef boiled
together in a kettle. While the supper is preparing the bereaved
wife goes to the grave and pours out, with unusual vehemence, her
bitter wailings and lamentations. When the food is thoroughly cooked
the kettle is taken from the fire and placed in the center of the
cabin, and the friends gather around it, passing the buffalo-horn
spoon from hand to hand and from mouth to mouth till all have been
bountifully supplied. While supper is being served, two of the
oldest men of the company quietly withdraw and go to the grave and
fill it up, taking down the flags. All then join in a dance, which
not unfrequently is continued till morning; the widow does not fail
to unite in the dance, and to contribute her part to the festivities
of the occasion. This is the “_last cry_,” the days of mourning are
ended, and the widow is now ready to form another matrimonial
alliance. The ceremonies are precisely the same when a man has lost
his wife, and they are only slightly varied when any other member of
the family has died. (Slaves were buried without ceremonies.)
_SACRIFICE._
Some examples of human sacrifice have already been given in connection
with another subject, but it is thought others might prove interesting.
The first relates to the Natchez of Louisiana.[90]
When their sovereign died he was accompanied in the grave by his
wives and by several of his subjects. The lesser Suns took care to
follow the same custom. The law likewise condemned every Natchez to
death who had married a girl of the blood of the Suns as soon as she
was expired. On this occasion I must tell you the history of an
Indian who was noways willing to submit to this law. His name was
_Elteacteal_; he contracted an alliance with the Suns, but the
consequences which this honor brought along with it had like to have
proved very unfortunate to him. His wife fell sick; as soon as he
saw her at the point of death he fled, embarked in a piragua on the
_Mississippi_, and came to New Orleans. He put himself under the
protection of M. de Bienville, the then governor, and offered to be
his huntsman. The governor accepted his services, and interested
himself for him with the Natchez, who declared that he had nothing
more to fear, because the ceremony was past, and he was accordingly
no longer a lawful prize.
_Elteacteal_, being thus assured, ventured to return to his nation,
and, without settling among them, he made several voyages thither.
He happened to be there when the Sun called the _Stung Serpent_,
brother to the Great Sun, died. He was a relative of the late wife
of _Elteacteal_, and they resolved to make him pay his debt. M. de
Bienville had been recalled to France, and the sovereign of the
Natchez thought that the protector’s absence had annulled the
reprieve granted to the protected person, and accordingly he caused
him to be arrested. As soon as the poor fellow found himself in the
hut of the grand chief of war, together with the other victims
destined to be sacrificed to the _Stung Serpent_, he gave vent to
the excess of his grief. The favorite wife of the late Son, who was
likewise to be sacrificed, and who saw the preparations for her
death with firmness, and seemed impatient to rejoin her husband,
hearing _Elteacteal’s_ complaints and groans, said to him: “Art thou
no warrior?” He answered, “Yes: I am one.” “However,” said she,
“thou cryest; life is dear to thee, and as that is the case, it is
not good that thou shouldst go along with us; go with the women.”
_Elteacteal_ replied: “True; life is dear to me. It would be well if
I walked yet on earth till to the death of the Great Sun, and I
would die with him.” “Go thy way,” said the favorite, “it is not fit
thou shouldst go with us, and that thy heart should remain behind on
earth. Once more, get away, and let me see thee no more.”
_Elteacteal_ did not stay to hear this order repeated to him; he
disappeared like lightning; three old women, two of which were his
relatives, offered to pay his debt; their age and their infirmities
had disgusted them of life; none of them had been able to use their
legs for a great while. The hair of the two that were related to
_Elteacteal_ was no more gray than those of women of fifty-five
years in France. The other old woman was a hundred and twenty years
old, and had very white hair, which is a very uncommon thing among
the Indians. None of the three had a quite wrinkled skin. They were
dispatched in the evening, one at the door of the _Stung Serpent_,
and the other two upon the place before the temple. * * * A cord is
fastened round their necks with a slip-knot, and eight men of their
relations strangle them by drawing, four one way and four the other.
So many are not necessary, but as they acquire nobility by such
executions, there are always more than are wanting, and the
operation is performed in an instant. The generosity of these women
gave _Elteacteal_ life again, acquired him the degree of
_considered_, and cleared his honor, which he had sullied by fearing
death. He remained quiet after that time, and taking advantage of
what he had learned during his stay among the French, he became a
juggler and made use of his knowledge to impose upon his countrymen.
The morning after this execution they made everything ready for the
convoy, and the hour being come, the great master of the ceremonies
appeared at the door of the hut, adorned suitably to his quality.
The victims who were to accompany the deceased prince into the
mansion of the spirits came forth; they consisted of the favorite
wife of the deceased, of his second wife, his chancellor, his
physician, his hired man, that is, his first servant, and of some
old women.
The favorite went to the Great Sun, with whom there were several
Frenchmen, to take leave of him; she gave orders for the Suns of
both sexes that were her children to appear, and spoke to the
following effect:
“Children, this is the day on which I am to tear myself from you
(_sic_) arms and to follow your father’s steps, who waits for me in
the country of the spirits; if I were to yield to your tears I would
injure my love and fail in my duty. I have done enough for you by
bearing you next to my heart, and by suckling you with my breasts.
You that are descended of his blood and fed by my milk, ought you to
shed tears? Rejoice rather that you are _Suns_ and warriors; you are
bound to give examples of firmness and valor to the whole nation:
go, my children, I have provided for all your wants, by procuring
you friends; my friends and those of your father are yours too;
I leave you amidst them; they are the French; they are
tender-hearted and generous; make yourselves worthy of their esteem
by not degenerating from your race; always act openly with them and
never implore them with meanness.
“And you, Frenchmen,” added she, turning herself towards our
officers, “I recommend my orphan children to you; they will know no
other fathers than you; you ought to protect them.”
After that she got up; and, followed by her troop, returned to her
husband’s hut with a surprising firmness.
A noble woman came to join herself to the number of victims of her
own accord, being engaged by the friendship she bore the _Stung
Serpent_ to follow him into the other world. The Europeans called
her the _haughty_ lady, on account of her majestic deportment and
her proud air, and because she only frequented the company of the
most distinguished Frenchmen. They regretted her much, because she
had the knowledge of several simples with which she had saved the
lives of many of our sick. This moving sight filled our people with
grief and horror. The favorite wife of the deceased rose up and
spoke to them with a smiling countenance: “I die without fear;” said
she, “grief does not embitter my last hours. I recommend my children
to you; whenever you see them, noble Frenchmen, remember that you
have loved their father, and that he was till death a true and
sincere friend of your nation, whom he loved more than himself. The
disposer of life has been pleased to call him, and I shall soon go
and join him; I shall tell him that I have seen your hearts moved at
the sight of his corps; do not be grieved; we shall be longer
friends in the _country of the spirits_ than here, because we do not
die there again.”[91*]
These words forced tears from the eyes of all the French; they were
obliged to do all they could to prevent the Great Sun from killing
himself, for he was inconsolable at the death of his brother, upon
whom he was used to lay the weight of government, he being great
chief of war of the Natches, i.e. generalissimo of their armies;
that prince grew furious by the resistance he met with; he held his
gun by the barrel, and the Sun, his presumptive heir, held it by the
lock, and caused the powder to fall out of the pan; the hut was full
of Suns, Nobles, and Honorables[92*] but the French raised their
spirits again, by hiding all the arms belonging to the sovereign,
and filling the barrel of his gun with water, that it might be unfit
for use for some time.
As soon as the Suns saw their sovereign’s life in safety, they
thanked the French, by squeezing their hands, but without speaking;
a most profound silence reigned throughout, for grief and awe kept
in bounds the multitude that were present.
The wife of the Great Sun was seized with fear during this
transaction. She was asked whether she was ill, and she answered
aloud, “Yes, I am”; and added with a lower voice, “If the Frenchmen
go out of this hut, my husband dies and all the Natches will die
with him; stay, then, brave Frenchmen, because your words are as
powerful as arrows; besides, who could have ventured to do what you
have done? But you are his true friends and those of his brother.”
Their laws obliged the Great Sun’s wife to follow her husband in the
grave; this was doubtless the cause of her fears; and likewise the
gratitude towards the French, who interested themselves in behalf of
his life, prompted her to speak in the above-mentioned manner.
The Great Sun gave his hand to the officers, and said to them: “My
friends, my heart is so overpowered with grief that, though my eyes
were open, I have not taken notice that you have been standing all
this while, nor have I asked you to sit down; but pardon the excess
of my affliction.”
The Frenchmen told him that he had no need of excuses; that they
were going to leave him alone, but that they would cease to be his
friends unless he gave orders to light the fires again,[93*]
lighting his own before them; and that they should not leave him
till his brother was buried.
He took all the Frenchmen by the hands, and said: “Since all the
chiefs and noble officers will have me stay on earth, I will do it;
I will not kill myself; let the fires be lighted again immediately,
and I’ll wait till death joins me to my brother; I am already old,
and till I die I shall walk with the French; had it not been for
them I should have gone with my brother, and all the roads would
have been covered with dead bodies.”
Improbable as this account may appear, it has nevertheless been credited
by some of the wisest and most careful of ethnological writers, and its
seeming appearance of romance disappears when the remembrance of similar
ceremonies among Old World peoples comes to our minds.
An apparently well-authenticated case of attempted burial sacrifice is
described by Miss A. J. Allen,[94] and refers to the Wascopums, of
Oregon.
At length, by meaning looks and gestures rather than words, it was
found that the chief had determined that the deceased boy’s friend,
who had been his companion in hunting the rabbit, snaring the
pheasant, and fishing in the streams, was to be his companion to the
spirit land; his son should not be deprived of his associate in the
strange world to which he had gone; that associate should perish by
the hand of his father, and be conveyed with him to the dead-house.
This receptacle was built on a long, black rock in the center of the
Columbia River, around which, being so near the falls, the current
was amazingly rapid. It was thirty feet in length, and perhaps half
that in breadth, completely enclosed and sodded except at one end,
where was a narrow aperture just sufficient to carry a corpse
through. The council overruled, and little George, instead of being
slain, was conveyed living to the dead-house about sunset. The dead
were piled on each side, leaving a narrow aisle between, and on one
of these was placed the deceased boy; and, bound tightly till the
purple, quivering flesh puffed above the strong bark cords, that he
might die very soon, the living was placed by his side, his face to
his till the very lips met, and extending along limb to limb and
foot to foot, and nestled down into his couch of rottenness, to
impede his breathing as far as possible and smother his cries.