“Thus it is our daughters leave us,
Those we love, and those who love us!
Just when they have learned to help us,
When we are old and lean upon them,
Comes a youth with flaunting feathers,
With his flute of reeds, a stranger
Wanders piping through the village,
Beckons to the fairest maiden,
And she follows where he leads her,
Leaving all things for the stranger!”
--_Longfellow’s “Hiawatha.”_
An An-ko-me-num courtship, and the marriage which followed, differed
entirely from that with which we are most familiar. One heathen
wedding, which I witnessed early in my stay at Nanaimo, very perfectly
illustrates the difference between their customs and ours.
Chief Tsil-ka-mut lived in a large old heathen house about 150 feet
long by 40 feet wide. Tsil-la-meah, his eldest daughter, by his eldest
wife--for he had two wives--was a modest Indian maiden, who had been
strictly kept, as a chief’s daughter, according to heathen law.
On one occasion, when one of H. M. ships of war was anchored in the
harbor, a number of bluejackets were allowed out on leave. They filled
up with liquor in the town, and then marched down through the woods,
over a mile, to the Indian village, cutting clubs as they went. When
they reached the village they shouted and swore and acted like demons,
and began to drive the people out of their houses and insult their
young women.
Among them were two professedly petty officers, who made their way into
Tsil-ka-mut’s big house, where his daughter, Tsil-la-meah, was busy
with her needle, while her mother sat near her on the floor working
at a mat. These rough men sat down, one on each side of the innocent
maid, and began to push her. The child, for she was little more than
that at the time, became afraid of them, and the anxious mother cried,
“Klata-wah! klata-wah!” (“Go away! go away!”). They paid no attention
and still persisted in their insults, until finally the mother, in her
own language, called out for the chief, who was at the other end of the
long house, taking a meal with some of his clan. Leaping over the floor
Tsil-ka-mut dashed around the corner of the partition which enclosed
his family room, and in a trice was facing these ruffians. Immediately
he shouted, pointing to the door, “Klata-wah! klata-wah!” which in this
tone of voice meant “Get out, and hurry about it.”
“Oh, no! oh, no!” said the poor fools, grinning like gaping idiots as
they spoke.
With that he seized a paddle and smashed it over their heads, repeating
in a towering voice, “Klata-wah! klata-wah!”
Then these big fellows, who had been sent out with others from the Home
Land to help keep peace among the Indians, scampered out of the house
and away without further ceremony.
It was well that a paddle was the only weapon to hand. For had
Tsil-ka-mut used his old musket, or something heavier, they might
have paid the penalty with their lives. And then the cry would have
gone forth, “Those desperate, savage Indians, they should all of them
be shot.” Unfortunately, many of them have been shot for more paltry
reasons than that.
It is of the courtship and marriage of this same Tsil-la-meah, at that
time a pupil in our school, that I now propose to write.
A young chief who lived some distance to the south made his way
overland to her village, and began what seemed to be an old-fashioned
heathen courtship. No one knew of his arrival till he was found one
morning in the great long house, sitting by a post on the cold earthen
floor with a blanket around him.
On my rounds to gather up the children for school I noticed this
stranger, a slender young man, sitting there, looking very lonely.
I asked who he was, and they told me he was a young prince from
Qua-mit-son, some fifty miles away, and that he had come to see if he
would be accepted as a suitor for Chief Tsil-ka-mut’s daughter. He had
to remain there three days and three nights, according to custom, and
if during that time he was invited to partake of food with the family
of the young princess his way was all clear; if not, he could go about
his business.
However, during the last day he was invited to eat with the family. We
do not know that he had anything to say to the young maiden regarding
the state of his affections, or whether he ever saw her during his stay
there, but as soon as he had proved himself welcome to the family he
was off overland to his home.
Some months after this we heard that a whole tribe of people were to
arrive early one morning from the south, and that Chief Tsil-ka-mut’s
daughter was going to be married to the young chief who had been there
courting. The whole village was in excitement, when presently some
thirty canoes were sighted rounding a point about two miles away, and
a great cracking of musketry announced the coming of the strangers. On
they came, beating their drums and singing the marriage song as they
drew near the village.
In the lead came a band of the principal chiefs, old warriors and
musicians, gorgeously painted and feathered up, standing upon a
platform which was built on top of two large canoes lashed together. In
their midst was the young man himself, well dressed in European style.
The singing continued till they got to the beach. By this time the
crowd of villagers were all thronged around the canoes. The young man
and the painted warriors stepped out and quietly walked to the chief’s
house, all the rest following. The villagers busied themselves packing
up the visitors’ goods and hauling their canoes high up on the beach.
The day was then spent in resting and feasting.
In the evening a great reception was given, when all the great dancers
of the Nanaimos, by their dancing and song, welcomed the strangers.
Feasting and dancing were now the order for several days.
Finally the day of departure arrived. Early in the morning the whole
village was astir, and we were told that now Tsil-la-meah was to be
married. We were curious to see the ceremony, and made our way to the
chief’s house. Drawn up high on the bank in front of the house was a
very large and beautiful new canoe, gaily painted with their old Indian
paints, the bow and stern carved and ornamented in colors with animal
and bird-like designs.
Inside the house we found crowds of people, all painted up, dancing
and scrambling for goods. A great number of mountain goat skins were
gathered at one end of the house. Busy hands tied them together in a
long string, and when all was ready some of the young men took hold of
one end and rushed the long string of robes down through the middle
of the house. Immediately an excited scramble followed, visitors and
villagers each striving for a share. Sometimes half a dozen men,
getting hold of a skin, would tear it in pieces, eager to get their
part of the prize. At other times, when several were good-humoredly
struggling together to secure a skin, a quaint-looking old man came
along and, brandishing a large knife, would cut right between their
arms and each man got his part. Then followed blankets, calico and
other goods, which were dealt with in the same way, and thus went on
this scene of pleasure and potlatch.
Then came another part of the ceremony. The Cowichans, the friends of
the young man, made ready their canoes for departure, and some by the
side of the canoes and some already seated in them joined in singing
one of their marriage songs, which recounted the great deeds and wealth
of the ancestors of the young man, as well as his own wealth and good
qualities.
During this time a number of old women attendants were preparing the
young bride for the occasion. They put on her a number of calico
dresses and a new bright red blanket, and painted her face in the most
grotesque-looking manner. Her long flowing black hair was plaited, and
hung away below her waist. Attached by a head-strap to her forehead and
hanging down her back--the way they carry their burdens--was a piece
of wood, the token that her friends never wanted her, as a chief’s
daughter, to carry her own wood.
All being ready, she was led out by one of the women, the others, to
the number of six or eight, following in single file. Each had a new
red blanket hanging over her shoulders, the other end held by the one
behind. And thus they marched out of the house towards the new canoe
amidst the singing and shouting of the Nanaimos. Men piled their loads
of new blankets into the canoe, and then the bride was helped in and
seated a little astern of mid-ships. And still they piled in blankets
all around her, until her head was just in sight. Thus several hundred
blankets were sent off with her as a kind of dowry.
By this time a great array of canoes were strung along the shore, all
ready to leave, and hundreds of people were crowded in front of the
house between it and the beach. And now the Nanaimos beat their drums
and sang their songs, and great orations were made by both parties.
The first orator, who represented the older chief, the father of the
bride, in loud and boastful tone spoke on this wise: “Let all the
people in this great country know, you people from the south and
the people from the north, that this young woman is a daughter of a
great chief; she and her people have been in the line of chiefs for
generations. They were a great people. All the tribes feared before
them. And now her father is giving her into the hands of you people of
the south. Let all the Cowichans, the Saanich, the Songees and all the
people to the south know that this day the young chief takes her for
his wife. We charge you to take great care of her, and warn you that if
anything should happen to her, any of the wild people from the north
should come and take her, we shall look to you, or require her at your
hands.”
At once a rough, wild-looking old fellow jumped up in one of the canoes
which stood out in the water and said: “O great chief, we hear what you
say, but you must remember it is not only the Nanaimos who are a great
people. Our people, the father of this young prince, is a great chief
among his people. We will try to do as you say. We will take care of
the young princess whom he has taken for his wife. She shall be one
with us, and we will come and see you again.”
Then for a time the most exciting scene occurred. Several beautiful new
muskets, one after another, were thrown ashore, and in a very proud,
haughty fashion a short speech was made after each present, as much as
to say, “We’ll show you Nanaimo people we are not the poor people you
imagine.”
This aroused the Nanaimos, who ran in turn to their different houses,
bringing out muskets and blankets and either throwing them down towards
the canoes or handing them to individuals--the whole accompanied by a
running fire of boastful speeches and wild and frantic oratory.
This ended, the bridegroom called his young men to him, and rushing
up to the large canoe where the young bride sat almost covered with
blankets, they seized the canoe and with a merry shout gave it a heave,
when it bounded off the bank into the water, some of them holding it
back for fear it should launch out too far.
As a parting gift the young man took off his coat and hat and gave them
to Tsil-ka-mut, who was clothed in a blanket only. The gift, it seemed,
could be of little value, as the young fellow was quite slender, while
the old chief looked as large again.
This done the young man sprang into the canoe by the side of his
bride, and they were man and wife. In a moment some ten of his braves
followed him, and seizing their paddles swung the big canoe out into
the bay and the party was off. We on the beach shouted and waved our
good-byes until they rounded the point.
THE SAD STATE OF HEATHEN WOMANHOOD.
Polygamy, with all its dreadful misery and degradation, was prevalent
in former days all along the coast. Chee-at-luk, the old king of the
Songees, commonly known as King Free-zee, it is said had fifteen wives.
In the interior, also, I met a chief who claimed to have fourteen
wives. One or two of these were the chief or permanent wives, while all
the rest were treated like slaves, and possibly were slaves, purchased
and often held as such.
Years ago, it is said, a man’s own sister, or, worse still, even his
daughter or mother, might be among his wives. The more wives he had,
the less work he would have to do. A great chief is reported to have
said, “Women are made to labor; one of them can haul as much as two
men; they pitch our tents, carry our wood, mend our clothes, and cook
our food.”
Woman was always the slave or burden-bearer until the Gospel came and
lifted her into her true social position.
It was a common thing, in those first days of my work among them, to
see a man with his blanket on, painted up in great style, walking along
the road as if the whole creation belonged to him, while a poor woman,
with a heavy load of fish or food of some kind in a basket on her
back, trudged along, hardly able to bear up under the load, and perhaps
carrying a baby besides. If you said to the man, as I have said again
and again, “Take the baby. Why don’t you help her?” she would say, “Oh,
let him alone, sir; he is the chief,” as much as to say, “I am his
slave.”
It was very common for men to have from two to four wives, and there
was often a great deal of jealousy and quarrelling among them. This
custom worked great injury to many of the young men, who could not get
wives, and often led them to live reckless lives; while many a young
woman has gone off to ruin for fear she would have to go and live with
some ill-natured, dirty, lame old fellow whom she could never like.
It is wonderful, when the Gospel light came in and the Spirit of God
took hold of the people, how they themselves commenced to see the
evils of this custom and immediately endeavored to rectify it. It was
a matter that could not have been forced upon them, but gradually
they arranged it. The oldest one, perhaps, was put away with an ample
dowry. Another, who had no family ties, married another man who had
no wife, and, growing out of this system of polygamy, who never had a
chance to have one. The one whose growing family of little ones laid
heavy responsibilities upon her was usually retained. And thus, by the
blessing of God, this most difficult problem was solved, and polygamy
was almost entirely done away with.
FIRST CHRISTIAN MARRIAGE.
Very interesting to me was the first marriage I performed among this
people. It took place in the year 1871, on the Songees reserve, the
territory of the noted old King Free-zee, opposite Victoria, in the
home of Amos Shee-hats-ton (our first convert in that tribe), which
had been used for prayer and class-meetings. The couple had been
waiting till I should be ordained, so as to have it in their own
language. There were present about twenty of the natives, including
their teachers. The weather was warm and the door wide open, and the
contracting parties stood with their backs to the door.
As it was the first marriage I had performed, I was a little nervous,
and had to keep a close look at the book. Just when I reached the
point of asking the bride, “Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded
husband?” I glanced up, and lo! she was just slipping out of the door.
Taking in the situation, and seeing that the crowd were looking very
serious, I started up singing, “Shall we gather at the river,” a hymn
with which they were familiar.
We had nearly sung it through when she came peeping in at the door, as
if she had a lingering desire to have the thing finished up. So I got
hold of her hand and drew her towards him, placed her hand in his, laid
my hand over them both, and held on until I had finished the ceremony.
With this memory before me I have married many hundreds since, and
never failed to place my hand upon theirs, and hold on until the
ceremony was completed.