The intellectual character of the American savage presents some very
striking peculiarities. Considering his unfavourable condition, he of
all other human beings might seem doomed to make the nearest approach
to the brute; while, in point of fact, without any aid from letters
or study, many of the higher faculties of his mind are developed in
a very remarkable degree. He displays a decided superiority over the
uninstructed labourer in a civilized community, whose mental energies
are benumbed amid the daily round of mechanical occupation. The former
spends a great part of his life in arduous enterprises, where much
contrivance is requisite, and whence he must often extricate himself
by presence of mind and ingenuity. His senses, particularly those of
seeing and smelling, have acquired by practice an almost preternatural
acuteness. He can trace an animal or a foe by indications which to
a European eye would be wholly imperceptible; and in his wanderings
he gathers a minute acquaintance with the geography of the countries
which he traverses. He can even draw a rude outline of them by applying
a mixture of charcoal and grease to prepared skins, and on seeing a
regular map he soon understands its construction, and readily finds
out places. His facility in discovering the most direct way to spots
situated at the distance of hundreds of miles, and known perhaps only
by the report of his countrymen, is truly astonishing. It has been
ascribed by some to a mysterious and supernatural instinct, but it
appears to be achieved by merely observing the different aspect of
the trees or shrubs when exposed to the north or the south, as also
the position of the sun, which he can point out, although hidden by
clouds. Even where there is a beaten track, if at all circuitous, he
strikes directly through the woods, and reaches his destination by the
straightest possible line.
Other faculties of a higher order are developed by the scenes amid
which the life of savages is spent. They are divided into a number
of little communities, between which are actively carried on all
the relations of war, negotiation, treaty, and alliance. As mighty
revolutions, observes an eloquent writer, take place in these kingdoms
of wood and cities of bark, as in the most powerful civilized states.
To increase the influence and extend the possessions of their own
tribe, to humble and, if possible, to destroy those hostile to them,
are the constant aims of every member of those little commonwealths.
For these ends, not only deeds of daring valour are achieved,
but schemes are deeply laid, and pursued with the most accurate
calculation. There is scarcely a refinement in European diplomacy to
which they are strangers. The French once made an attempt to crush the
confederacy of the Five Nations by attacking each in succession; but
as they were on their march against the first tribe, they were met by
the deputies of the others, who offered their mediation, intimating
that, if it were rejected, they would make common cause with the
one threatened. That association also showed that they completely
understood how to employ the hostility which prevailed between
their enemy and the English for promoting their own aggrandizement.
Embassies, announced by the calumet of peace, are constantly passing
from one tribe to another.
The same political circumstances develop in an extraordinary degree the
powers of oratory; for nothing of any importance is transacted without
a speech. On every emergency a council of the tribe is called, when the
aged and wise hold long deliberations for the public weal. The best
speakers are despatched to conduct their negotiations, the object of
which is unfolded in studied harangues. The functions of orator, among
the Five Nations, had even become a separate profession, held in equal
or higher honour than that of the warrior; and each clan appointed the
most eloquent of their number to speak for them in the public council.
Nay, there was a general orator for the whole confederacy, who could
say to the French governor, “Ononthio, lend thine ear; I am the mouth
of all the country; you hear all the Iroquois in hearing my word.”
Decanesora, their speaker at a later period, was greatly admired by
the English, and his bust was thought to resemble that of Cicero.
In their diplomatic discourses, each proposition is prefaced by the
delivery of a belt of wampum, of which what follows is understood to
be the explanation, and which is to be preserved as a record of the
conference. The orator does not express his proposals in words only,
but gives to every sentence its appropriate action. If he threatens
war, he wildly brandishes the tomahawk; if he solicits alliance, he
twines his arms closely with those of the chief whom he addresses;
and if he invites friendly intercourse, he assumes all the attitudes
of one who is forming a road in the Indian manner, by cutting down
the trees, clearing them away, and carefully removing the leaves and
branches. To a French writer, who witnessed the delivery of a solemn
embassy, it suggested the idea of a company of actors performing on a
stage. So expressive are their gestures, that negotiations have been
conducted and alliances concluded between petty states and communities
who understood nothing of one another’s language.
The composition of the Indian orators is studied and elaborate. The
language of the Iroquois is even held to be susceptible of an Attic
elegance, which few can attain so fully as to escape all criticism. It
is figurative in the highest degree, every notion being expressed by
images addressed to the senses. Thus, to throw up the hatchet or to
put on the great caldron is to begin a war; to throw the hatchet to
the sky is to wage open and terrible war; to take off the caldron or
to bury the hatchet is to make peace; to plant the tree of peace on
the highest mountain of the earth is to make a general pacification.
To throw a prisoner into the caldron is to devote him to torture and
death; to take him out, is to pardon and receive him as a member of
the community. Ambassadors coming to propose a full and general treaty
say, “We rend the clouds asunder, and drive away all darkness from the
heavens, that the sun of peace may shine with brightness over us all.”
On another occasion, referring to their own violent conduct, they said,
“We are glad that Assarigoa will bury in the pit what is past; let the
earth be trodden hard over it, or, rather, let a strong stream run
under the pit to wash away the evil.” They afterward added, “We now
plant a tree, whose top will reach the sun, and its branches spread far
abroad, and we shall shelter ourselves under it, and live in peace.”
To send the collar under ground is to carry on a secret negotiation;
but when expressing a desire that there might be no duplicity or
concealment between them and the French, they said that “They wished
to fix the sun in the top of the heaven, immediately above that pole,
that it might beat directly down and leave nothing in obscurity.” In
pledging themselves to a firm and steady peace, they declared that they
would not only throw down the great war-caldron, and cause all the
water to flow out, but would break it in pieces. This disposition to
represent every thing by a sensible object extends to matters the most
important. One powerful people assumed the appellation of Foxes, while
another gloried in that of Cats. Even when the entire nation bore a
different appellation, separate fraternities distinguished themselves
as the tribe of the Bear, the Tortoise, and the Wolf. They did not
disdain a reference even to inanimate things. The Black Caldron was
at one time the chief warrior of the Five Nations; and Red Shoes was
a person of distinction well known to Long the traveller. When the
chiefs concluded treaties with Europeans, their signature consisted in
a picture, often tolerably well executed, of the beast or object after
which they chose to be named.
The absence among these tribes of any written or even pictorial mode
of recording events, was supplied by the memories of their old men,
which were so retentive, that a certain writer calls them living books.
Their only remembrancer consisted in the wampum belts; of which one was
appropriated to each division of a speech or treaty, and had seemingly
a powerful effect in calling it to recollection. On the close of the
transaction, these were deposited as public documents, to be drawn
forth on great occasions, when the orators, and even the old women,
could repeat verbatim the passage to which each referred. Europeans
were thus enabled to collect information concerning the revolutions of
different tribes, for several ages preceding their own arrival.