PENINSULAR TRIBES OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
§ 1. SITUATION AND SOCIAL CONDITION.--Caloosas.--Tegesta and
Ais.--Tocobaga.--Vitachuco.--Utina.--Soturiba.--Method of Government.
§ 2. CIVILIZATION.--Appearance.--Games.--Agriculture.--Construction of
Dwellings.--Clothing.
§ 3. RELIGION.--General Remarks.--Festivals in honor of the Sun and
Moon.--Sacrifices.--Priests.--Sepulchral Rites.
§ 4. LANGUAGES.--Timuquana Tongue.--Words preserved by the French.
§ 1.--SITUATION AND SOCIAL CONDITION.
When in the sixteenth century the Europeans began to visit Florida they
did not, as is asserted by the excellent bishop of Chiapa, meet with
numerous well ordered and civilized nations,[182] but on the contrary
found the land sparsedly peopled by a barbarous and quarrelsome race of
savages, rent asunder into manifold petty clans, with little peaceful
leisure wherein to better their condition, wasting their lives in
aimless and unending internecine war. Though we read of the cacique
Vitachuco who opposed De Soto with ten thousand chosen warriors, of
another who had four thousand always ready for battle,[183] and other
such instances of distinguished power, we must regard them as the
hyperbole of men describing an unknown and strange land, supposed to
abound in marvels of every description. The natural laws that regulate
the increase of all hunting tribes, the analogy of other nations of
equal civilization, the nature of the country, and lastly, the adverse
testimony of these same writers, forbid us to entertain any other
supposition. Including men, women, and children, the aboriginal
population of the whole peninsula probably but little exceeded at any
one time ten thousand souls. At the period of discovery these were
parcelled out into villages, a number of which, uniting together for
self-protection, recognized the authority of one chief. How many there
were of these confederacies, or what were the precise limits of each, as
they never were stable, so it is impossible to lay down otherwise than
in very general terms, dependent as we are for our information on the
superficial notices of military explorers, who took an interest in
anything rather than the political relations of the nations they were
destroying.
Commencing at the south, we find the extremity of the peninsula divided
into two independent provinces, one called Tegesta on the shores of the
Atlantic, the other and most important on the west or Gulf coast
possessed by the Caloosa tribe.
The derivation of the name of the latter is uncertain. The French not
distinguishing the final letter wrote it Calos and Callos; the
Spaniards, in addition to making the same omission, softened the first
vowel till the word sounded like Carlos, which is their usual
orthography. This suggested to Barcia and others that the country was so
called from the name of its chief, who, hearing from his Spanish
captives the grandeur and power of Charles of Spain (Carlos V), in
emulation appropriated to himself the title. Doubtless, however, it is a
native word; and so Fontanedo, from whom we derive most of our knowledge
of the province, and who was acquainted with the language, assures us.
He translates it “_village cruel_,”[184] an interpretation that does not
enlighten us much, but which may refer to the exercise of the sovereign
power. As a proper name, it may be the Muskohge _charlo_, trout,
assumed, according to a common custom, by some individual. It is still
preserved in the Seminole appellation of the Sanybal river,
Carlosa-hatchie and Caloosa-hatchie, and in that of the bay of Carlos,
corrupted by the English to Charlotte Harbor, both on the southwestern
coast of the peninsula near north latitude 26° 40´.
According to Fontanedo, the province included fifty villages of thirty
or forty inhabitants each, as follows: “Tampa, Tomo, Tuchi, Sogo, No
which means beloved village, Sinapa, Sinaesta, Metamapo, Sacaspada,
Calaobe, Estame, Yagua, Guayu, Guevu, Muspa, Casitoa, Tatesta, Coyovea,
Jutun, Tequemapo, Comachica, Quisiyove, and two others; on Lake Mayaimi,
Cutespa, Tavaguemme, Tomsobe, Enempa, and twenty others; in the Lucayan
Isles, Guarunguve and Cuchiaga.” Some of these are plainly Spanish
names, while others undoubtedly belong to the native tongue. Of these
villages, Tampa has given its name to the inlet formerly called the bay
of Espiritu Santo[185] and to the small town at its head. Muspa was the
name of a tribe of Indians who till the close of the last century
inhabited the shores and islands in and near Boca Grande, where they are
located on various old maps. Thence they were driven to the Keys and
finally annihilated by the irruptions of the Seminoles and
Spaniards.[186] Guaragunve, or Guaragumbe, described by Fontanedo as the
largest Indian village on Los Martires, and which means “the village of
tears,” is probably a modified orthography of Matacumbe and identical
with the island of Old Matacumbe, remarkable for the quantity of lignum
vitæ there found,[187] and one of the last refuges of the Muspa Indians.
Lake Mayaimi, around which so many villages were situated, is identical
with lake Okee-chobee, called on the older maps and indeed as late as
Tanner’s and Carey’s, Myaco and Macaco. When Aviles ascended the St.
Johns, he was told by the natives that it took its origin “from a great
lake called Maimi thirty leagues in extent,” from which also streams
flowed westerly to Carlos.[188] In sound the word resembles the Seminole
_pai-okee_ or _pai-hai-o-kee_, grassy lake, the name applied with great
fitness by this tribe to the Everglades.[189] When travelling in
Florida I found a small body of water near Manatee called lake Mayaco,
and on the eastern shore the river Miami preserves the other form of the
name.
The chief of the province dwelt in a village twelve or fourteen leagues
from the southernmost cape.[190] The earliest of whom we have any
account, Sequene by name, ruled about the period of the discovery of the
continent. During his reign Indians came from Cuba and Honduras, seeking
the fountain of life. He was succeeded by Carlos, first of the name, who
in turn was followed by his son Carlos. In the time of the latter,
Francesco de Reinoso, under the command of Pedro Menendez de Aviles, the
founder of St. Augustine and Adelantado of Florida, established a colony
in this territory, which, however, owing to dissensions with the
natives, never flourished, and finally the Cacique was put to death by
Reinoso for some hostile demonstration. His son was taken by Aviles to
Havana to be educated and there baptized Sebastian. Every attempt was
made to conciliate him, and reconcile him to the Spanish supremacy but
all in vain, as on his return he became “more troublesome and barbarous
than ever.” This occurred about 1565-1575.[191] Not long after his death
the integrity of the state was destroyed, and splitting up into lesser
tribes, each lived independent. They gradually diminished in number
under the repeated attacks of the Spaniards on the south and their more
warlike neighbors on the north. Vast numbers were carried into captivity
by both, and at one period the Keys were completely depopulated. The
last remnant of the tribe was finally cooped up on Cayo Vaco and Cayo
Hueso (Key West), where they became notorious for their inhumanity to
the unfortunate mariners wrecked on that dangerous reef. Ultimately, at
the cession of Florida, to England in 1763, they migrated in a body to
Cuba, to the number of eighty families, since which nothing is known of
their fate.[192]
Of the province of Tegesta, situate to the west of the Caloosas, we have
but few notices. It embraced a string of villages, the inhabitants of
which were famed as expert fishers, (grandes Pescadores,) stretching
from Cape Cañaveral to the southern extremity.[193] The more northern
portion was in later times called Ais, (Ays, Is) from the native word
_aïsa_, deer, and by the Spaniards, who had a post here, Santa
Lucea.[194] The residence of the chief was near Cape Cañaveral, probably
on Indian river, and not more than five days journey from the chief town
of the Caloosas.
At the period of the French settlements, such amity existed between
these neighbors, that the ruler of the latter sought in marriage the
daughter of Oathcaqua, chief of Tegesta, a maiden of rare and renowned
beauty. Her father, well aware how ticklish is the tenure of such a
jewel, willingly granted the desire of his ally and friend. Encompassing
her about with stalwart warriors, and with maidens not a few for her
companions, he started to conduct her to her future spouse. But alas!
for the anticipations of love! Near the middle of his route was a lake
called Serrope, nigh five leagues about, encircling an island, whereon
dwelt a race of men valorous in war and opulent from a traffic in dates,
fruits, and a root “so excellent well fitted for bread, that you could
not possibly eat better,” which formed the staple food of their
neighbors for fifteen leagues around. These, fired by the reports of her
beauty and the charms of the attendant maidens, waylay the party, rout
the warriors, put the old father to flight, and carry off in triumph the
princess and her fair escort, with them to share the joys and wonders of
their island home.
Such is the romantic story told Laudonniére by a Spaniard long captive
among the natives.[195] Why seek to discredit it? May not Serrope be the
beautiful Lake Ware in Marion county, which flows around a fertile
central isle that lies like an emerald on its placid bosom, still
remembered in tradition as the ancient residence of an Indian
prince,[196] and where relics of the red man still exist? The dates,
_les dattes_, may have been the fruit of the Prunus Chicasaw, an exotic
fruit known to have been cultivated by the later Indians, and the bread
a preparation of the coonta root or the yam.
North of the province of Carlos, throughout the country around the
Hillsboro river, and from it probably to the Withlacooche, and easterly
to the Ocklawaha, all the tribes appear to have been under the
domination of one ruler. The historians of De Soto’s expedition called
the one in power at that period, Paracoxi, Hurripacuxi, and
Urribarracuxi, names, however different in orthography, not unlike in
sound, and which are doubtless corruptions of one and the same word,
otherwise spelled Paracussi, and which was a generic appellation of the
chiefs from Maryland to Florida. The town where they found him residing,
is variously stated as twenty, twenty-five, and thirty leagues from the
coast,[197] and has by later writers been located on the head-waters of
the Hillsboro river.[198] In later times the cacique dwelt in a village
on Old Tampa Bay, twenty leagues from the main, called Tocobaga or
Togabaja,[199] (whence the province derived its name,) and was reputed
to be the most potent in Florida. A large mound still seen in the
vicinity marks the spot.
This confederacy waged a desultory warfare with their southern
neighbors. In 1567, Aviles, then superintending the construction of a
fort among the Caloosas, resolved to establish a peace between them, and
for this purpose went himself to Tocobaga. He there located a garrison,
but the span of its existence was almost as brief as that of the peace
he instituted. Subsequently, when the attention of the Spaniards became
confined to their settlements on the eastern coast, they lost sight of
this province, and thus no particulars of its after history are
preserved.
The powerful chief Vitachuco, who is mentioned in the most extravagant
terms by La Vega and the Gentleman of Elvas, seems, in connection with
his two brothers, to have ruled over the rolling pine lands and broad
fertile savannas now included in Marion and Alachua counties. Though his
power is undoubtedly greatly over-estimated by these writers, we have
reason to believe, both from existing remains and from the capabilities
of the country, that this was the most densely populated portion of the
peninsula, and that its possessors enjoyed a degree of civilization
superior to that of the majority of their neighbors.
The chief Potavou mentioned in the French accounts, residing about
twenty-five leagues, or two days’ journey from the territory of Utina,
and at war with him, appears to have lived about the same spot, and may
have been a successor or subject of the cacique of this province.[200]
The rich hammocks that border the upper St. Johns and the flat pine
woods that stretch away on either side of this river, as far south as
the latitude of Cape Cañaveral,[201] were at the time of the first
settlement of the country under the control of a chief called by the
Spanish Utina, and more fully by the French Olata Ouæ Outina. His
stationary residence was on the banks of the river near the northern
extremity of Lake George, in which locality certain extensive
earthworks are still found, probably referable to this period. So wide
was his dominion that it was said to embrace more than forty subordinate
chiefs,[202] which, however, are to be understood only as the heads of
so many single villages. It is remarkable, and not very easy of
satisfactory explanation, that among nine of these mentioned by
Laudonniére,[203] two, Acquera and Moquoso, are the names of villages
among the first encountered by De Soto in his march through the
peninsula, and said by all the historians of the expedition to be
subject to the chief Paracoxi.
Soturiba (Sotoriva, Satouriona) was a powerful chief, claiming the
territory around the mouth of the St. Johns, and northward along the
coast nearly as far as the Savannah. Thirty sub-chiefs acknowledged his
supremacy, and his influence extended to a considerable distance inland.
He showed himself an implacable enemy to the Spaniards, and in 1567,
assisted Dominique de Gourgues to destroy their settlements on the St.
Johns. His successor, Casicola, is spoken of by Nicolas Bourguignon as
the “lord of ten thousand Indians,” and ruler of all the land “between
St. Augustine and St. Helens.”
The political theories on which these confederacies were based, differed
singularly in some particulars from those of the Indians of higher
latitudes. Among the latter the chief usually won his position by his
own valor and wisdom, held it only so long as he maintained this
superiority, and dying, could appoint no heir to his pre-eminence. His
counsel was sought only in an emergency, and his authority coerced his
fellows to no subjection. All this was reversed among the Floridians.
The children of the first wife inherited the power and possessions of
their father,[204] the eldest getting the lion’s share; the sub-chiefs
paid to their superior stated tributes of roots, games, skins, and
similar articles;[205] and these superiors held unquestioned and
absolute power over the persons, property, and time of their
subjects.[206] Among the Caloosas, indeed, the king was considered of
divine nature, and believed to have the power to grant or withhold
seasons favorable to the crops, and fortune in the chase; a superstition
the shrewd chief took care to foster by retiring at certain periods
almost unattended to a solitary spot, ostensibly to confer with the gods
concerning the welfare of the nation.[207] In war the chief led the van
with a chosen body guard for his protection,[208] and in peace daily
sate in the council house, there both to receive the homage of his
inferiors, and to advise with his counsellors on points of national
interest. The devotion of the native to their ruler, willingly losing
their lives in his defence, is well illustrated in the instance of
Vitachuco, killed by De Soto. So scrupulously was the line of
demarcation preserved between them and their subjects, that even their
food was of different materials.[209]
§ 2.--CIVILIZATION.
The Floridians were physically a large, well proportioned race, of that
light shade of brown termed by the French _olivâtre_. On the southern
coast they were of a darker color, caused by exposure to the rays of the
sun while fishing, and are described by Herrera as “of great stature and
fearful to look upon,” (de grandes cuerpos y de espantosa vista). What
rendered their aspect still more formidable to European eyes was the
habit of tattooing their skin, practiced for the double purpose of
increasing their beauty, and recording their warlike exploits. Though
this is a perfectly natural custom, and common wherever a warm climate
and public usage permits the uncivilized man to reject clothing a
portion of the year, instances are not wanting where it has been made
the basis of would-be profound ethnological hypotheses.
In their athletic sports they differed in no notable degree from other
tribes. A favorite game was that of ball. In playing this they erected a
pole about fifty feet in height in the centre of the public square; on
the summit of this was a mark, which the winning party struck with the
ball.[210] The very remarkable “pillar” at the Creek town of Atasse on
the Tallapoosa river, one day’s journey from the Coosa, which puzzled
the botanist Bartram,[211] and which a living antiquarian of high
reputation has connected with phallic worship,[212] was probably one of
these solitary trunks, or else the “red painted great war-pole” of the
southern Indians,[213] usually about the same height.
In some parts they had rude musical instruments, drums, and a sort of
flute fashioned from the wild cane,[214] the hoarse screeching of which
served to testify their joy on festive occasions. A primitive pipe of
like construction, the earliest attempt at melody, but producing
anything but sounds melodious, was common among the later Chicasaws[215]
and the Indians of Central America.[216]
Their agriculture was of that simple character common to most North
American tribes. They planted twice in the year, in June or July and
March, crops of maize, beans, and other vegetables, working the ground
with such indifferent instruments as sticks pointed, or with fish bones
and clam-shells adjusted to them.[217] Yet such abundant return rewarded
this slight toil that, says De Soto,[218] the largest army could be
supported without exhausting the resources of the land. In accordance
with their monarchical government the harvests were deposited in public
granaries, whence it was dispensed by the chief to every family
proportionately to the number of its members. When the stock was
exhausted before the succeeding crop was ripe, which was invariably the
case, forsaking their fixed abodes, they betook themselves to the
woods, where an abundance of game, quantities of fish and oysters, and
the many esculent vegetables indigenous in that latitude, offered them
an easy and not precarious subsistence.
Their dwellings were collected into a village, circular in form, and
surrounded with posts twice the height of a man, set firmly in the
ground, with interfolding entrance. If we may rely on the sketches of De
Morgues, taken from memory, the houses were all round and the floors
level with the ground, except that of the chief, which occupied the
centre of the village, was in shape an oblong parallelogram, and the
floor somewhat depressed below the surface level.[219] In other parts
the house for the ruler and his immediate attendants was built on an
elevation either furnished by nature or else artificially constructed.
Such was the “hie mount made with hands,” described by the Portuguese
Gentleman at the spot where De Soto landed, and which is supposed by
some to be the one still seen in the village of Tampa. Some of these
were of sufficient size to accommodate twenty dwellings, with roads
leading to the summits on one side, and quite inaccessible on all
others.
Most of the houses were mere sheds or log huts thatched with the leaf of
the palmetto, a plant subservient to almost as many purposes as the
bread-fruit tree of the South Sea Islands. Occasionally, however, the
whole of a village was comprised in a single enormous habitation,
circular in form, from fifty to one hundred feet in diameter. Into its
central area, which was sometimes only partially roofed, opened
numerous cabins, from eight to twelve feet square, arranged around the
circumference, each the abode of a separate family. Such was the edifice
seen by Cabeza de Vaca “that could contain more than three hundred
persons” (que cabrian mas de trecientas personas);[220] such that found
by De Soto in the town of Ochile on the frontiers of the province of
Vitachuco; such those on the north-eastern coast of the peninsula
described by Jonathan Dickinson.[221]
The agreeable temperature that prevails in those latitudes throughout
the year did away with much of the need of clothing, and consequently
their simple wardrobe seems to have included nothing beyond deerskins
dressed and colored with vegetable dyes, and a light garment made of the
long Spanish moss (_Tillandsia usneoides_), the gloomy drapery of the
cypress swamps, or of the leaves of the palmetto. A century and a half
later Captain Nairn describes them with little or no clothing, “all
painted,” and with no arms but spears, “harpoos,” pointed with fish
bones.
§ 3.--RELIGION.
It is usual to consider the religion and mythology of a nation of
weighty import in determining its origin; but to him, who regards these
as the spontaneous growth of the human mind, brought into existence by
the powers of nature, nourished by the mental constitution of man, and
shaped by external circumstances, all of which are “everywhere
different yet everywhere the same,” general similarities of creed and of
rite appear but deceptive bases for ethnological theories. The same
great natural forces are eternally at work, above, around and beneath
us, producing similar results in matter, educing like conceptions in
mind. He who attentively compares any two mythologies whatever, will
find so many points of identity and resemblance that he will readily
appreciate the capital error of those who deduce original unity of race
from natural conformity of rite. Such is the fallacy of those who would
derive the ancient population of the American continent from a fragment
of an insignificant Semitic tribe in Syria; and of the Catholic
missionaries, who imputed variously to St. Thomas and to Satan the many
religious ceremonies and legends, closely allied to those of their own
faith, found among the Aztecs and Guatemalans.
In investigations of this nature, therefore, we must critically
distinguish between the local and the universal elements of religions.
Do we aim by analysis to arrive at the primal theistic notions of the
human mind and their earliest outward expression? The latter alone can
lead us. Or is it our object to use mythology only as a handmaid to
history, an index of migrations, and a record of external influence? The
impressions of local circumstances are our only guides.
The tribes of the New World, like other early and uncivilized nations,
chose the sun as the object of their adoration; either holding it to be
itself the Deity, as did most of the indwellers of the warm zones, or,
as the natives of colder climes, only the most august object of His
creation, a noble emblem of Himself. Intimately connected with both,
ever recurring in some one of its Protean forms, is the worship of the
reciprocal principle.
The Floridian Indians belonged to the first of these classes. They
worshipped the sun and moon, and in their honor held such simple
festivals as are common in the earlier stages of religious development.
Among these the following are worthy of specification.
After a successful foray they elevated the scalps of their enemies on
poles decked with garlands, and for three days and three nights danced
and sang around them.[222] The wreaths here probably had the same
symbolical significance as those which adorned the Athenian Hermes,[223]
or which the Maypures of the Orinoco used at their weddings, or those
with which the northern tribes ornamented rough blocks of stone.
Their principal festival was at the first corn-planting, about the
beginning of March. At this ceremony a deer was sacrificed to the sun,
and its body, or according to others its skin stuffed with fruits and
grain, was elevated on a tall pole or tree stripped of its branches, an
object of religious veneration, and around which were danced and sung
the sacred choruses;[224] a custom also found by Loskiel among the
Delawares,[225] and which, recognizing the deer or stag as a solar
emblem, surmounting the phallic symbol, the upright stake, has its
parallel in Peruvian heliolatry and classical mythology.
The feast of Toya, though seen by the French north of the peninsula and
perhaps peculiar to the tribes there situate, presents some remarkable
peculiarities. It occurred about the end of May, probably when the green
corn became eatable. Those who desired to take part in it, having
apparelled themselves in various attire, assembled on the appointed day
in the council house. Here three priests took charge of them, and led
them to the great square, which they danced around thrice, yelling and
beating drums. Suddenly at a given signal from the priests they broke
away “like unbridled horses” (comme chevaux débridez), plunging into the
thickest forests. Here they remained three days without touching food or
drink, engaged in the performance of mysterious duties. Meanwhile the
women of the tribe, weeping and groaning, bewailed them as if dead,
tearing their hair and cutting themselves and their daughters with sharp
stones; as the blood flowed from these frightful gashes, they caught it
on their fingers, and, crying out loudly three times _he Toya_, threw it
into the air. At the expiration of the third day the men returned; all
was joy again; they embraced their friends as though back from a long
journey; a dance was held on the public square; and all did famous
justice to a bounteous repast spread in readiness.[226] The analogy that
these rites bear to the Διονυσια and similar observances of the ancients
is very striking, and doubtless they had a like significance. The
singular predominance of the number three, which we shall also find
repeated in other connections, cannot escape the most cursory reader.
Nor is this a rare or exceptional instance where it occurs in American
religions; it is bound up in the most sacred myths and holiest
observances all over the continent.[227] Obscure though the reason may
be, certain it is that the numbers three, four, and seven, are hallowed
by their intimate connection with the most occult rites and profoundest
mysteries of every religion of the globe, and not less so in America
than in the older continent.
In the worship of the moon, which in all mythologies represents the
female principle, their rites were curious and instructive. Of those
celebrated at full moon by the tribes on the eastern coast, Dickinson,
an eyewitness, has left us the following description:--“The moon being
up, an Indian who performeth their ceremonies, stood out, looking full
at the moon, making a hideous noise and crying out, acting like a
mad-man for the space of half an hour, all the Indians being silent till
he had done; after which they all made a fearful noise, some like the
barking of a dogg or wolf, and other strange sounds; after this one gets
a logg and setts himself down; holding the stick or logg upright on the
ground, and several others getting about him, made a hideous noise,
singing to our amazement.” This they kept up till midnight, the women
taking part.[228]
On the day of new moon they placed upright in the ground “a staff almost
eight foot long having a broad arrow on the end thereof, and thence
half-way painted red and white, like unto a barber’s-pole; in the middle
of the staff is fixed a piece of wood, like unto the thigh, legg, and
foot of a man, and the lower part thereof is painted black.” At its
base was placed a basket containing six rattles; each taking one and
making a violent noise, the six chief men of the village including the
priest danced and sang around the pole till they were fatigued, when
others, painted in various devices, took their place; and so on in turn.
These festivities continued three days, the day being devoted to rest
and feasting, the night to the dance and fasting; during which time no
woman must look upon them.[229] How distinctly we recognize in this the
worship of the reciprocal principle!--that ever novel mystery of
reproduction shadowed forth by a thousand ingenious emblems, by a myriad
strange devices, all replete with a deep significance to him who is
versed in the subtleties of symbolism. Even among these wretched savages
we find the colors black, white, and red, retain that solemn import so
usual in oriental mythi.
The representation of a leg used in this observance must not be
considered a sign of idolatry, for, though the assertion, advanced, by
both Adair[230] and Klemm,[231] that no idols whatever were worshipped
by the hunting tribes, is unquestionably erroneous and can be disproved
by numerous examples, in the peninsula of Florida they seem to have been
totally unknown. The image of a bird, made of wood, seen at the village
where De Soto first landed, cannot be regarded as such, but was a
symbol common among several of the southern tribes, and does not appear
to have had any special religious meaning.
Human sacrifice, so rare among the Algic nations, was not unknown,
though carried to by no means such an appalling extent as among the
native accolents of the Mississippi. The chief of the Caloosas immolated
every year one person, usually a Christian, to the principle of evil (al
Demonio)[232], as a propitiary offering; hence on one old map, that of
De L’Isle, they are marked “Les Carlos Antropophages.” Likewise around
the St. Johns they were accustomed to sacrifice the firstborn son,
killing him by blows on the head;[233] but it is probable this only
obtained to a limited observance. In all other cases their offerings
consisted of grains and fruits.
The veneration of the serpent, which forms such an integral part of all
nature religions, and relics of which are retained in the most
perfected, is reported to have prevailed among these tribes. When a
soldier of De Gourgues had killed one, the natives cut off its head and
carried it away with great care and respect (avec vu grand soin et
diligence).[234] The same superstitious fear of injuring these reptiles
was retained in later days by the Seminoles.[235]
The priests constituted an important class in the community. Their
generic appellation, _javas_, _jauas_, _jaruars_, _jaovas_, _jaonas_,
_jaiias_, _javiinas_,--for all these and more orthographies are
given--has been properly derived by Adair from the meaningless
exclamation _yah-wah_, used as name, interjection, and invocation by the
southern Indians. It is not, however, an etymon borrowed from the Hebrew
as he and Boudinot argue, but consists of two slightly varied
enunciations of the first and simplest vowel sound; as such, it
constitutes the natural utterance of the infant in its earliest wail,
and, as the easiest cry of relief of the frantic devotee all over the
world, is the principal constituent of the proper name of the deity in
many languages. Like the medas of the Algonquins and the medicine men of
other tribes, they united in themselves the priest, the physician, and
the sorcerer. In sickness they were always ready with their bag of herbs
and simples, and so much above contempt was their skill in the healing
art that not unfrequently they worked cures of a certain troublesome
disease sadly prevalent among the Indians and said by some to have
originated from them. Magicians were they of such admirable subtlety as
to restore what was lost, command the unwilling rain from heaven in time
of drought, and foretell the position of an enemy or the result of a
battle. As priests, they led and ordered festivals, took part in grave
deliberations, and did their therapeutic art fail to cure, were ready
with spiritual power to console, in the emergencies of pain and death.
Their sepulchral rites were various. Along the St. Johns, when a chief
died they interred the corpse with appropriate honors, raised a mound
two or three feet high above the grave, surrounded it with arrows fixed
in the ground, and on its summit deposited the conch, _le hanap_, from
which he was accustomed to drink. The tribe fasted and mourned three
days and three nights, and for six moons women were employed to bewail
his death, lamenting loudly thrice each day at sunrise, at mid-day, and
at sunset.[236] All his possessions were placed in his dwelling, and the
whole burnt; a custom arising from a superstitious fear of misfortune
consequent on using the chattels of the dead, a sentiment natural to the
unphilosophic mind. It might not be extravagant to suppose that the
shell had the same significance as the urn so frequent in the tombs of
Egypt and the sepulchres of Magna Græcia, “an emblem of the hope that
should cheer the dwellings of the dead.”[237] The burial of the priests
was like that of the chiefs, except that the spot chosen was in their
own houses, and the whole burnt over them, resembling in this a practice
universal among the Caribs, and reappearing among the Natchez, Cherokees
and Arkansas, (Taencas).
Among the Caloosas and probably various other tribes, the corpses were
placed in the open air, apparently for the purpose of obtaining the
bones when the flesh had sufficiently decomposed, which, like the more
northern tribes, they interred in common sepulchres, heaping dirt over
them so as to form mounds. It was as a guard to watch over these exposed
bodies, and to prevent their desecration by wild beasts, that Juan
Ortiz, the Spaniard of Seville, liberated by De Soto, had been employed
while a prisoner among the nations of the Gulf Coast.
§ 4.--LANGUAGE.
A philological examination of the Floridian tribes, which would throw so
much light on their origin, affiliation, and many side-questions of
general interest, must for the present remain unattempted, save in a
very inadequate manner. Not but that there exists material, ample and
well-arranged material, but it is not yet within reach. I have already
spoken of the works of the Father Pareja, the learned and laborious
Franciscan, and of the good service he did the missionaries by his works
on the Timuquana tongue. Not a single copy of any of these exists in the
United States, and till a republication puts them within reach of the
linguist, little can be done towards clearing up the doubt that now
hangs over the philology of this portion of our country. What few
extracts are given by Hervas, hardly warrant a guess as to their
classification.
The name Timuquana, otherwise spelled Timuaca, Timagoa, and Timuqua, in
which we recognize the Thimogona of the French colonists, was applied to
the tongue prevalent in the immediate vicinity of St. Augustine and
toward the mouth of the St. Johns. It was also held in estimation as a
noble and general language, a sort of _lingua franca_, throughout the
peninsula. Pareja remarks, “Those Indians that differ most in words and
are roughest in their enunciation (mas toscos), namely those of
Tucururu[238] and of Santa Lucea de Acuera, in order to be understood
by the natives of the southern coast, who speak another tongue, use the
dialect of Moscama, which is the most polished of all (la mas politica),
and that of Timuquana, as I myself have proved, for they understood me
when I preached to them.”[239]
This language is remarkable for its singularly numerous changes in the
common names of individuals, dependent on mutual relationship and the
varying circumstances of life, which, though not the only instance of
the kind in American tongues, is here extraordinarily developed, and in
the opinion of Adelung seems to hint at some previous, more cultivated
condition (in gewissen Hinsicht einen cultivirteren Zustand des Volks
anzeigen möchte).[240] For example, _iti_, father, was used only during
his life; if he left descendants he was spoken of as _siki_, but if he
died without issue, as _naribica-pasano_: the father called his son
_chiricoviro_, other males _kie_, and all females _ulena_. Such
variations in dialect, or rather quite different dialects in the same
family, extraordinary as it may seem to the civilized man, were not very
uncommon among the warlike, erratic hordes of America. They are
attributable to various causes. The esoteric language of the priests of
Peru and Virginia might have been either meaningless incantations, as
those that of yore resounded around the Pythian and Delphic shrines, or
the _disjecta membra_ of some ancient tongue, like the Dionysiac songs
of Athens. When as among the Abipones of Paraguay, the Natchez of
Louisiana, and the Incas of Peru, the noble or dominant race has its
own peculiar tongue, we must impute it to foreign invasion, and a
subsequent rigorous definition of the line of cast and prevention of
amalgamation. Another consequence of war occurs when the women and
children of the defeated race are alone spared, especially should the
males be much absent and separated from the females; then each sex has
its peculiar language, which may be preserved for generations; such was
found to be the case on some of the Caribbee islands and on the coast of
Guiana. Also certain superstitious observances, the avoidance of evil
omens, and the mere will of individuals, not seldom worked changes of
this nature. In such cases these dialects stand as waymarks in the
course of time, referring us back to some period of unity, of strife, or
of migration, whence they proceeded, and as such, require the greatest
caution to be exercised in deducing from them any general ethnographical
inferences.
What we are to judge in the present instance is not yet easy to say.
Hervas does not hesitate to assert that abundant proof exists to ally
this with the Guaranay (Carib) stock. Besides a likeness in some
etymons, he takes pains to lay before the reader certain similar rites
of intermarriage, quotes Barcia to show that Carib colonies actually did
land on Florida, and adds an ideal sketch of the _Antigua configuracion
del golfo Mexicano y del mar Atlantico_, thereon proving how readily in
ancient ages, under altered geological conditions, such a migration
could have been effected.
Without altogether differing from the learned abbé in his position, for
it savors strongly of truth, it might be well, with what material we
have at hand, to see whether other analogies could be discovered. The
pronominal adjectives and the first three numerals are as follows;--
na mine mile our
ye thine yaye your
mima his lama their
minecotamano one
naiuchanima two
nakapumima three
Now, bearing in mind that the pronouns of the first and second persons
and the numerals are primitive words, and that in American philology it
is a rule almost without exception that personal pronouns and pronominal
adjectives are identical in their consonants,[241] we have five
primitive words before us. On comparing them with other aboriginal
tongues, the _n_ of the first person singular is found common to the
Algonquin Lenape family, but in all other points they are such contrasts
that this must pass for an accidental similarity. A resemblance may be
detected between the Uchee _nowah_, two, _nokah_, three, and
_naiucha_-mima, _naka_-pumima. Taken together, _iti-na_, my father,
sounds not unlike the Cherokee _etawta_, and Adelung notices the slight
difference there is between _niha_, eldest brother, and the Illinois
_nika_, my brother. But these are trifling compared to the affinities to
the Carib, and I should not be astonished if a comparison of Pareja with
Gilü and D’Orbigny placed beyond doubt its relationship to this family
of languages. Should this brief notice give rise to such an
investigation, my object in inserting it will have been accomplished.
The French voyagers occasionally noted down a word or two of the
tongues they encountered, and indeed Laudonniére assures us that he
could understand the greater part of what they said. Such were _tapagu
tapola_, little baskets of corn, _sieroa pira_, red metal, _antipola
bonnasson_, a term of welcome meaning, brother, friend, or something of
that sort (qui vaut autant à dire comme frère, amy, ou chose
semblable).[242] Albert Gallatin[243] subjected these to a critical
examination, but deciphered none except the last. This he derives from
the Choktah _itapola_, allies, literally, they help each other, while
“in Muskohgee, _inhisse_, is, his friends, and _ponhisse_, our friends,”
which seems a satisfactory solution. It was used as a friendly greeting
both at the mouth of the St. Johns and thirty leagues north of that
river; but this does not necessarily prove the natives of those
localities belonged to the Chahta family, as an expression of this sort
would naturally gain wide prevalence among very diverse tribes.
Fontanedo has also preserved some words of the more southern languages,
but none of much importance.